"conner" poems
to establish an initiative
for protection of gentleness?
follow the patterns of what does call joy in buddhism?
joy is always innocent
I follow your footsteps
through the dark tunnel
in the shimmering light
and wonder what a courage
you bring towards any jeopardy
which hunts you, my queer peer, behind any conner
in this fallocentric world
Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 3:37 PM UTC
Bull Connor,
like the Dutch Boy from Haarlem,
put his finger in a hole
to plug a burgeoning leak.
But Bull Connor,
unlike the boy from Haarlem,
did not foresee
the raging torrents of history,
smashing against
the crumbling walls
of the porous ****
he sought to buttress.
His decadent heroism
held no moral authority
to sustain
his ungodly labors.
His savage dogs,
hungry for meat,
bent on aggression
for a twisted masters bidding
were devoured
by the teeth
of a movement
hungry for justice.
His water cannons,
tiny water pistols,
******
into the mighty squalls
of a raging hurricane
that blew the stinking *****
back onto his face.
The weight of history
moves with the just.
Untruth,
arch rival of justice,
is blown away,
like an expired candle
snuffed out,
blessedly extinguished
from the first breath
of a glorious new day.
Bull Connor
doesn’t rest in peace.
He stands on
the other side of the river.
He is the rich man
driven by
insane thirst
begging for water
from a comforted
Lazarus,
now secure
in the *****
of Abraham.
Bull Connor
looks across
the chasm of fire
he knows
he'll never bridge.
Medgar Evers
and MLK Jr.
stand as keepers,
collecting tolls
for a heavenly passage
from the wages he earned
for his earthly work.
A forlorn
Bull Connor
forever searches
deep empty pockets
for fare
as Martin
and Medgar
patiently wait
with outstretched palms.
Music Selection:
The Soul Stirrers,
Jesus Gave Me Water
MLK Jr. Day
1/20/86
NYC
jbm
Jan 16, 2012
Jan 16, 2012 at 8:55 AM UTC
I am just a child but my mama say I wild
she say I best get dressed for Jesus or, I gonna burn up in hell fire
So mama n' me we got dressed up n' walked to Jesus land
cause we goen to a Jesus house n' listen to the holy preacher man
They gonna pass the basket round'n' round'
while them choir boys sing they sounds
cause we supposed to give everythin' we can
Yeah, give everything we got to the holy preacher man.
In Jesus land we give n' give -
give it all to the ol'
preacher man.
Don't got no money for food
we sure ain't got no money for rent
cause we be live'n by a river in a ****** ol' torn up tent
but preacher man he say to bow our head
yeah, to pray n' then repent
I am just a small child but this sure don't make no sense.
Yeah, I am just a small child n' my mama say I wild
I sure don't wanna burn up n' what they call the lake of fire
that ol' basket sure got full real fast
when dat' basket went on past
mama, she put her last quarter in --
to protect us from all our sins
and, dat' devil sin'n man
Now I know that I am just a child of five
but I don't think dat' make me wild
preacher man he the one drive'n a big ol' fancy car
Yeah, he drive'n a big ol' fancy car with they shiny white wall tires
So dats' why I gonna grow up n' be a preacher man
gonna tell them folks of wild child's....
to give everything they can.
Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 4:28 AM UTC
Tell me, beloved, how many people you have killed
in your mind, over and over
Tell me of the throats you have twisted
and of the deaths you have relished
whisper them into my hair in the dead of the night
Tell me of their perpetual last breaths
So I may know the darkest parts of your soul
and love them also.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 2:12 PM UTC
At only 18 years old;
He was a Jack of all trades
Had the passion of blazing flames.
The free-spirited heart of a dove.
Debating skills that reached high above.
Athletic gifts that even the most talented could adore.
A witty personality that was hard to ignore.
Smatter than most I've ever known.
Reckless with a charm that was hard to condone.
Courage that surpassed the bravest.
Achieved the highest, and came back the greatest.
Friendly as if he had all the love to give.
Always smiling,
leaving everyone breathless.
Conner binded a small community together before and after his departure.
He may not be here with us to pray, but he can be here to guide us along the way.
No doubt in my mind is Conner going to give up so easilly.
If his legacy stays, so will he.
Jul 14, 2018
Jul 14, 2018 at 1:40 AM UTC
Conner is a lovely man.
He laces his wants through me with fine, pale features.
I cannot say what I would like of him--
nor what he would like of me.
Conner is a strange man,
with an accent that is achieved through a deep rumble in the back of the throat --
He is prideful of his home country,
which causes some sort of influence over me.
Conner is a man full of wit.
His expressions are comical,
words are snaky --
and have the tendency to make me blush.
Conner surely is not a stranger to admirers.
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 2:24 PM UTC
He stumbles through the door,
I take a kick to the chest,
And a yell,
That I'm worthless and to get the **** away,
I back away,
thinking it was my fault,
slinking to my mother,
I get in the car,
Not knowing what was in store,
Or how long I would really be apart from my hero,
I thought it would just be 2 weeks,
I was wrong,
My daddy comes home from prison,
I had forgotten the things from before,
And I hug him and kiss him,
I missed him,
He smiles and returns my affections,
I look at the woman,
Round and thick,
Jolly, if you please,
And slink behind my "hero",
He tells us it's ok,
We meet our soon-to-be-siblings,
Hugging,
Smiling,
Bonding,
The young one touches too much,
when nobody's around,
My daddy stops letting mommy,
see us,
talk to us,
How long has it been?
I miss my mommy...
Some people came,
He told us to lie,
Or else,
and we do,
They break the rules,
He tells us mommy's dead,
He killed her,
She's in the attic,
I start to cry and ask why,
He answers that she was a *****
Cops come a week later,
Everyone's screaming,
Holding,
Hiding,
I don't,
I want them to take us,
They take us up the road,
They let me sit in the front,
And press the buttons,
To the station we go,
To the back,
I see someone,
By a white bmw,
Smiling,
Mommy,
I start to cry,
laughing,
I jolted out of the car,
Letting my little brother out,
Running to my real hero,
She saved us from the man that fooled us all,
I am grateful,
I am thankful,
I am happy,
Mom,
It's been 7 years since that day,
We were away from you for a year,
We were all lied to,
Including you,
But I want you to know that Korey was never "Hero",
You were always our hero,
Conner,
Christian,
Me,
I love you,
and we will always be your babies.
cdh
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 10:22 AM UTC
My thoughts are with you tonight
Although, we are miles apart
The distance only embeds my love for you,
Deep with in my lonely heart.
Just to see your face
And to feel your warm embrace
Would take away all that time has given
And make this life of mine
Worth living again
Your lips speak soft sweetness
Your touch a cool caress
I am lost in your magic
My heart beats with in your chest
To love is to help and encourage
With smiles and sincere words of praise
To take time to share
To listen and care
In tender, affectionate ways
You bring such joy to my heart
I’ve never felt so alive before
With each touch of your hand I crave
I love you more and more each day
What is love, but an emotion?
So strong and so pure,
That nurtured and shared with one another
All tests it will endure
By: Katie Conner
For: Someone very special and dear to me
You have made a difference in my Life.
Oct 1, 2010
Oct 1, 2010 at 2:27 AM UTC
There once was a club swinging Swede
Determined to pillage and breed
But sweet miss O’conner
Defended her honor
Refusing to welcome his seed
There once was a red-bearded Viking
To the emerald land he went hiking
And trying to be wily
Snuck up Miss Reilly
But his salmon was not to her liking
There’s a viking name Erik the Erring
On a voyage he lost all his bearing
Instead of New York
He landed in Cork
And alone he became hard of herring
Oct 4, 2024
Oct 4, 2024 at 3:01 AM UTC
1 sat next to 2.
There are having a great time tonight.
3 sat in the conner by himself.
1 said to 2, look at 3 he is so odd, sitting there, the crazy sod.
At this 4 butted in, and with a grin, said did you not know 3 is gay.
On hearing that 5 moved away.
6 then butted in, but before he said anything.
They all at the same time looked up.
Just as google plex walk in.
google plex, surveyed the room, sied then just left, muttering, this is imposable.
Mar 17, 2012
Mar 17, 2012 at 6:58 PM UTC
...As we were slow dancing
to Nothing Compares 2 U
by Sinead O' Conner
I noticed the sky getting darker,
and your eyes getting dimmer;
You were falling asleep
in my arms and I had to steady
your limp body like
a peasant with a sack of
bath salts.
You started to drool
on my chest and I lifted
you at an awkward angle
and tried to close your
gaping mouth;
My finger slipped
past your lips
and ended up in your
left nostril but you didn't
stir;
Our bodies were
still stuck in
a hypnotic sway,
when I realized my
entire hand was inside
of your nose.
I laid you down
on the harvest rug
and used my other
hand to free
myself but it was
of no use; that hand,
against my will,
slipped in as well.
I had no other
choice but to climb in
(the song started skipping
at the worst possible time).
I was crawling
for what seemed
like weeks; in what
seemed like the abyss,
in what seemed like
any old tunnel,
in every typical
metropolitan city.
I found a light
and scurried toward
it's radiance like
a rat desperate
for a morsel of
Nutella.
But it wasn't a light
at all.
It was a bland
piece of paper;
it was a blank screen
of a computer,
it was a white
sheet of material;
But there was
a fountain pen
nearby.
So I took my time,
rattled the beehive,
managed to regain
my composure
and I decided
to write
this nonsense
to keep myself
from ever
losing my mind.
May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 3:07 AM UTC
More okay things?
No anger?
I need more laughter.
An acid trip disaster,
left him mentally shattered
for a few hours.
Everything is *****
Take a shower!
I can't go in that giant sink.
Then go to sleep!
More okay things?
We could move planets with this.
No anger.
More okay things!?
Oct 11, 2017
Oct 11, 2017 at 2:54 AM UTC
A lonely person
Sitting alone in the conner
Listen to music
And no one talk to him
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 6:45 AM UTC
I was lost in your eyes
when you reached across to unbuckle my seatbelt
your lips grazed my cheek
and a shiver ran through my veins
I love you, but I have to go
were the words you left
lingering in my ears
I stepped out of the car
and leaned through the window
and you gave me one last kiss
you sped up the street
knowing you would be late
but you braked
I was staring waiting for you to go
but you opened the door
and ran
straight to me
you lifted me off my feet
and once again grazed my cheek
and whispered
sweet remedies in my ears
you jogged back to your jeep
and fled around the conner
and it wasn't until two am
that I realized I forgot to tell you
how much I love you
when I got the call
I knew the kiss would have to last me forever
for there would never be another
yet I ran to your house
and sat on the lawn
in front of your window
begging for you
begging for just one more kiss
and one more chance
to tell you
I love you
j.h.
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 11:52 PM UTC
I know you don’t want to hear it
But one day you WILL
look up and think,
****** Mom”
And then notice the rose-gold
Of a sunset
Just like I’m
Always taken by surprise
At how your eyes
Can change from green
to dusty gold then blue
Depending on the hue
Of your plain olive
or blue H & M T-shirt
I know you don’t want to hear it
But you will take that hike one day
With one or two or three
Progeny in tow and go
“Wow, inhale that smell”
Of wet outdoors and nature and life
Just like I inhale the boyness of you
Before you become a man
The spicy alcohol of cologne hiding
The musk of undone laundry maybe
The sweat, excretion of locker room,
Football, or track exertion
I know you don’t want to hear
About the birds and the bees,
Sticking your head out the truck window,
“Mom, please!”
But one day she’ll come for your heart
Just like you came for mine
that morning you were born
Feb 13, 2020
Feb 13, 2020 at 2:50 PM UTC
By: L.D. Conner
It’s dark in these woods. I might as well not have eyes. Just rip them out. Eat them with your teeth. There are teeth in these woods. Behind every tree, beneath every stone. The woods are dark at night, and I do not fear loneliness, but the absence of it. The teeth whisper in these woods. Muttering soft tones through their tongueless mouths, yet drool pools on the leaves, and seeps into my skin; into my pores. The potency of the whispers drill into my brain. Time is forgotten in these woods, the teeth keep me here; they sink into my flesh and pin me to the trees. The trees are everywhere in these woods. They lurk in the dark and block out the light; they swallow the light; hungry. I know I have been here too long. My stomach twists with hunger. My skin, I know, is pale as death. The sun has been drawn from my skin and given to the woods. The woods are not satisfied with the light. They begin to eat at my flesh. They use their teeth to break my bones. They slide my bones out of my skin. I can’t run now. My flesh starts to go; melts off into their mouths. I waste away. My bones, my flesh. My mind goes dead, and I cannot breathe. Then all of a sudden, It stops. It is now so quiet in these woods. I am suddenly alone, but I cannot keep on. I bleed out on the damp leaves. The woods have done their work. Now they soak in my blood through the soil; into their roots. My teeth are in the woods. I join the chorus of chattering whispers. I will never leave these woods. My home is in these woods.
Sep 27, 2019
Sep 27, 2019 at 8:24 PM UTC
I adore every breath you take. I am in love with every sound that escapes the soft curves of your lips as i kiss that spot between your jaw and neck. I melt when your hands touch my skin, dilly dallying across every inch of my body, because you take your time, nothing but pure love cultivating itself deep within my heart. I love going to sleep next to you and listening to you mumble about things that make no sense. I don’t think I can get enough of the way your voice sounds in the morning when sleep is still lingering in your throat and you look at me with heavy eyes. I love how I fall more in love writing about it.
I
Love
You
Jul 2, 2019
Jul 2, 2019 at 4:31 AM UTC