"certs" poems
Sometimes on the way out of Giant,
I'll spend some time freeing change
from the receipt-paper
bindle in my coat pocket
for one two-twist mystery prize
from a Folz machine.
Two quarters:
Enough for a sapphire ring and a cheap
laugh while I juggle coffee-cream cartons,
a sack of December oranges, Certs,
cinnamon mouthwash, a dented can
of green beans 'cause it's cheaper,
red toothpicks, Ziploc bags, a barbecue
chicken TV dinner, Noxzema, a 32-case
of Poland Spring water, a Valentine's
Hallmark card and envelope, a bottle
of pink grapefruit Perrier,
two quick picks for Cash 5,
gluten-free potato chips, garlic salt,
some cumin for $2.82, and a copy
of Vogue.
I strap my groceries in the passenger seat,
and see them sitting straight up as I had,
childishly marveling at the lush
maple leaves washing the windshield
edges in green, leaving helicopters
and dew trails.
She and I watched slug trails
beneath mustard streetlights glisten
like Berger Lake.
Bright as the last cigarette my grandma snuffed out in a smokeless ash tray.
Bright as the first line of road flares that separated me from a burning Taurus.
Bright as the quarter my grandpa gave me for the Folz machine in the Sylvania.
And bright as the emerald ring I showed him.
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 3:27 PM UTC
Horror after horror
Fear after fear
Tenants after tenants, owners after owners, what a horror.
Teachers, doctors why this life is horror after horror.
I am so deep sad, I am in a roommate marriage certs issue fear.
I am, I am afraid, I am confused, and I am in strong fear.
Lovers killing one another, horror after horror.
I’m so deep sad, why are you abusing these kids in your horror.
Case after case, horror after horror, where is forgiveness.
Divorce after divorce, ****** after abuse, torture after torture.
Distress, suffering, I am so deep sad for those roommates.
You roommates not couple where is forgiveness.
I am craving to torn your paper as there is torture after torture.
Pastors please, learn to differentiate a couple and roommates.
-Written By: The Senior Date: Undefined
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 12:42 AM UTC
If falling hurts
Why do people fall in love?
Don't they know they're falling?
Falling; rushing into this pain,
Makes you dumb
Blind want to **** on your thumb
Pocket full of certs;
Want to fly like a dove,
You swear you hear them calling
Your name every minute; you feel lame
Pathetic even,
How you let yourself forget
It happened once before
And before that and more,
You think the memo you'll get
But you step over the edge anyways,
You've done it before
You'll do it again,
Bust your knee on that soft feeling
Warmth seeping through every pore,
You see them in a light so heavenly
Falling rocks in love is a good hurt...
© okpoet
Jan 9, 2013
Jan 9, 2013 at 7:28 PM UTC
I work hard, hardly work, hard's the work, they be smoking that **** until they heart burst, in the hard murks, the devil is lurking his heart hurts, looking too hard though hollows will rip your hard shirt, and they out, Erk! Back to the beach with no certs, where they don't perk, surf, and treat girl for what they are worth, the world has allot of Kurts but Casanovas just overworked, Three-time felonies and them Athens that go to church, plus police make it worst "protect and serve" it's more like "protect and survive" cause they shooting first and it seems "blacks" are the ones that decriminalize. (Through our eyes)
It's Hard.
Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 9:09 AM UTC
An interview with Mr Death
I felt (and smelt) his icy breath
He told me I was qualified
As his skeleton shook and sighed
He told me given half a chance
I could soon promote, advance
He said my work would be secure
That the job's a sinecure
Then, after talking for a while,
He gave me a toothy smile
I was unphased, was not yet dead
I knew my fate, I used my head
So I spoke, here's what I said;
"You've been comin' 'round my door
Promotin' for your stinking store
But I'm NOT scared. Ain't buyin' any
Wouldn't take it for a penny!
I don't have appreciation
I filled out no application...
Just go back to the grave beneath
You got no stinger, got no teeth
You can't have my bloomin' life!
I belong to Jesus Christ.
So you won't make me cry or beg,
Turn your face and shake a leg!
Death rattled in his tattered skirts
My parting shot?
**"GO BUY SOME CERTS!"**
Thus ended the interview
I'm no longer broken, blue.
Yes, I have more work to do
If he comes to bother *you
Flush* the ******
DOWN THE LOO!!!
SoulSurvivor
(C) 11/17/2015
Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 7:43 PM UTC
He's here again
Thinking in my mind
Breathing in my lungs
Blinking with my eyes
And speaking with my tongue.
The questions he asks, rolling through my head
I feel detached I don't know right from wrong
He gets away with ******
I don't know where he's from.
He makes me doubt dead certs
And **** up what I hold dear
He makes me stay indoors
And locks me up with fear.
He eats away at me
I can't fight back
Darkness comes rolling in
It all just fades to black.
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 3:14 PM UTC
I saw you on an island
And I try to remember,
“you” and “me"
submerging privacy
Until then
I will build global privacy.
to walk in there
and Love you, All.
I will
secure check by
digital-certs at endpoints
before proceeding
lasting memories
the way it should be!
Nov 8, 2019
Nov 8, 2019 at 2:23 AM UTC