"deans" poems
When we talk
We reckless teenagers
We rebels without causes
We James Deans of the world
We talk about wanted tattoos
"A 3 on my back"
"Wings"
"On my lip"
And piercings
"My nose"
"My belly button"
And alcohol
"Icelandic chocolate"
*****
"Whiskey"
Because we want to do the things
We can't
We're on the edge
The brink
Does that make us reckless?
Greedy?
Something to be laughed at?
It makes us human.
We're greedy.
We want to be different
So we sit in circles
And curse and drink
And play stupid games
Like truth or dare
Because we're reckless
And we talk about ***
Talk back to our parents
Because we worship sarcasm
And complain about how poor we are.
What else can you expect
From artsy
Reckless
Hipster
New York kids?
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 1:16 PM UTC
This is not the best haiku in the world ...
... its just a tribute.*
(to HaikuDonnajones and her Dean).
.
At the crack of dawn
me and dean go milk our cows,
pulling the udders.
Our cows milk is good
for cheese, yoghurt and butter,
very nice in tea too.
Vegetarians
are great, make good customers,
Vegans not so good.
What the hell is this
new coconut milk anyway?
Or soya butter?
I don't understand,
its not real dairy goodness,
its all fake dairy.
Our cows are organic,
no artificial cow feed,
just grass and fresh air.
After milking cows
me and dean have our breakfast
to give us energy.
I may turn Veggie,
but love my deans big sausage,
bacon, eggs fry-ups.
Our goats have kids to,
tidier than our own lot,
don't complain as much.
Me and dean are happy
with our kids, cows and our goats,
on our dairy farm.
© Pagan Paul (01/04/18)
Apr 1, 2018
Apr 1, 2018 at 8:09 AM UTC
I remember it like yesterday
That night I saw you dance
You were alone, and I was watching
You had me in a trance
I was celebrating nothing
as you danced to the Bo-Deans
I knew I had to find out more
When I saw you in those jeans
It may as well be carved in stone
I'm never gonna change my mind
It's as good as done once I decide
I'm never gonna change my mind
We dated for a couple months
Marriage, well why not?
It was just the natural course of things
I didn't need a second thought
My friends kept working on me
Saying you're moving much too fast
She's nice but, do you know her
Are you sure that this will last?
It may as well be carved in stone
I'm never gonna change my mind
It's as good as done once I decide
I'm never gonna change my mind
Next in line, was having kids
That just made too much sense
And the the dog and the big house
with the old white picket fence
The rumours kept evolving
I just laughed at their attack
They said that you were cheating
That you had knifed me in the back
It may as well be carved in stone
I'm never gonna change my mind
It's as good as done once I decide
I'm never gonna change my mind
I chose not to believe it
You loved me, and I loved you
They were jealous we were happy
This was not what you would do
Then I caught you with our neighbor
You begged to stay, and I said no
I truly, once did love you
Now, it's time for you to go
It may as well be carved in stone
I'm never gonna change my mind
It's as good as done once I decide
I'm never gonna change my mind
You're never gonna change it
I'll never change my mind
It's set as hard as concrete
I'll never change my mind
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 11:38 PM UTC
Empty Church, free of worship.
Solemn words trapped in stone wall.
Echoes of song long since dissipated.
Redundant Reverends,
Disconnected Deans,
And Perished Priests.
Age has eroded the congregation.
Faith in a Power displaced by modern life.
No time nor inclination to pray:
Hymns have too many lyrics
They offer no repetitive melodies.
As belief in Him erodes,
Faith in the Establishment remains,
It's failing flock clinging to the rock,
Demonstrating their faith in His return
Through small hopelessly hopeful acts,
Such as a 'Clergy Parking Only' sign.
Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 11:21 AM UTC
It's Friday night,
And it's almost ten,
So I've hit the ***** streets,
To meet with some friends.
I've left my car keys,
"Forgotten" my wallet,
And taken the Metro
To where Main Street begins.
I found them at "Deans,"
Up a floor and a half,
Smoking some Black Magic
In the elevator shaft.
My new best friend
Is about to perform,
But He's got stage fright,
As such is the norm,
On a Friday night,
On Main Street...
Before they start playing,
They take one last drink,
Then the music begins,
Before I can think.
When it's over, they're happy,
It was a nice crowd,
But now it's time to pack up,
And get the hell out.
So we left their guitars
In the bass player's car.
To go for a walk,
But we won't get too far,
Until we see shadows
And signs of life,
On a Friday night,
On Main Street...
They tilt from the corners,
And lean on the walls,
Their palms are held open,
Their gaze always falls.
They ask for a dollar,
Or something at all,
A smoke or a drink,
A simple phone call.
On Fridays like this,
I so often give thought,
To those unfortunate souls
Our "fair" city forgot,
In this land of the plenty,
They have nothing at all;
Just a lonely spot,
On Main Street...
Feb 18, 2018
Feb 18, 2018 at 8:58 PM UTC
The schemes and political day dreams of the polymorphic school deans
They don't know how the youth wind blows, how the bored thought flows. But there's something better. Those. Those who've gone and escaped that mind race
Those who managed that fast taste of freedom through blasted treason
Of not reading those books and setting fire to the reading nooks.
How's that for a reason?
Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 3:39 PM UTC
Deans in gabled suits
Eloquent body, jazz smooth,
Sweeps her off her feet.
Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 12:10 PM UTC