"earful" poems
You Are the Texture
…………………………
**~ for all of you,
you, you poet~**
Impasto
“**is a technique used in painting,
where paint is laid on an area of
the surface thickly, usually thick
enough that the brush or painting-
knife strokes are visible.
Paint can also be mixed right on
to the canvas. When dry, impasto
provides texture; the paint appears
as if, to be coming out of the canvas.**”
<1:47pm>
Cut & Paste
*is a technique used in poetry writing,
we refer back to our visions,
heard words,
the eyeful, the earful, scents,
the reads read,
all in the mind’s palette blended,
thickly, but
when
the merging fused,
every word~in~coloration,
it is unique, reincarnation,
copying impossible.
The imagery, cut and pasted from thy heart and soul,
upon canvas,
your poems~pieces each appear*
***as you-are-texture,
you becoming out of, you,
the canvas.
<2:04pm>
Postscript***
………………
it is not lost on me that the
scars, our words, herein,
as we note all too frequently,
almost casually,
are, can be, those selfsame
words/painting-knife
employed
for our first and foremost canvas we utilize,
ourselves…
our bodies,
our
very selves
salved
Jun 24, 2023
Jun 24, 2023 at 8:06 AM UTC
I find serenity in storms
The slams of doors make my heart race
And if you trace your finger's down my spine
I'll give you an earful
Of distasteful pleasure
I'll juxtapose any situation
For the most fun I can find
Oh I love being hard to read darling
I want you to open my closed eyes
And if you read me like a story
I will lie dear oh I'll lie
And cover up my deepest fears
And conceal everything I despise
I love to hate and hate to love
Those I regret most I crave
So lay me on the darkest train tracks
And pray that I will be safe.
Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 5:21 PM UTC
Comeback
Perhaps I should be grateful
That I never was recipient
Of great applause,
Years of adorers,
Broadway’s honey,
Years of being stunning,
Grateful that
I never had to kowtow, bow out,
Miss the kudos and the fame,
Never knowing what life was
With and without them, since I never got them.
Never got to play Las Vegas,
Glad there never came a time
Of longing for a non-existent encore,
Cheering I no longer hear.
Hair going grey,
Kilos heading the wrong way,
You are asked to make a comeback,
Or you’ve asked to make a comeback;
Life feels boring,
No alluring pleasure takes the place
Of listener filled with earful grace.
You sweat and strain, extra kilos off again,
Get back routines,
Move as you did in your teens,
Flexibility, the voice retaining every nuance.
Frank and Cher came back again - and then again.
We followed each rendition, each gradation, limitation;
Cheered until the cheers turned into hesitation.
I am grateful that I never
Had the clamouring for autographs and tresses,
Shredded dresses, theirs and mine.
Never had the glamour and the clamour of masses,
Fervent need to make a comeback,
Coming back to audiences smelling wine:
Hard to define.
And still I play and sing and grow.
Comeback 5.28.2008/revised3.19.2021
Birth, Death & In Between; Time; Vaguely About Music; Arlene Nover Corwin
Mar 19, 2021
Mar 19, 2021 at 5:07 PM UTC
There’s always a bustle here
In my ritual place of ribs and beer
The sharp scent of ginger and coriander
The acrid burr in my nose of seared flesh
Fusion food served around me
But I go for Hirata.. again.
Can’t argue with taste, and it tastes
Korean bbq and Buddha beer
A brief nod to the moments of clarity
As said by drunks
The beer bottle cool in my hand as I reflect
Beads of condensation forming on Buddhas belly
And I’m here hoping for Constant
It’s now my third attempt
In as many months to catch a glimpse
And tonight apparently the stars align
Jupiter and Mercury on the rise
As I walk in
There is a way about him
So much bluff and bravado...
reminds me of someone I once loved
There is a mischief in his smile
Something warm in his eyes
Even beyond his jokes of his ego
Too big for the Room, apparently
I don’t discourage..
He’s honest in a way that piques
So here I am
Third time lucky finding Constant
To my delight he recognises me instantly
“Lucky Buddha for the lady?”
His eyes dance..
I interpret, maybe to much
But believe he’s pleased to see me
So we joke..
We laugh
I watch him get an earful
For not concentrating on the flow
The manager in tow..
and he side-eyes me and winks
Inwardly I hi-five myself for
Timing this so perfectly
So here I am
Trying not to watch Constant flow
Trying not to blush as he looks my way
“I’m too old for this **** I think
Then feel like a kid
When he throws a grin my way
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 4:25 PM UTC
Oh the joys of being positive
After enduring all your negative
The drama you created was stressful
Should've been an actor you'd be successful
Time for me to give you an earful
Because I'm no longer tearful
My enjoyment will be to watch you fail
Your new love now has a dominant male
No one's opinion is ever correct
You drive you're own point in every argument
If she is submissive you'll both get along
You overpower women that tend to be strong
You've moved her out and you moved her in
I see that you're starting all over again
It's hard to watch from across the street
To watch you start failing is a real treat
Your endless routine has become so clear
Destroyer of hearts has become your career
Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 7:55 PM UTC
HAVE I told any man to be a liar for my sake?
Have I sold ice to the poor in summer and coal to the poor in winter for the sake of daughters who nursed brindle bull terriers and led with a leash their dogs clothed in plaid wool jackets?
Have I given any man an earful too much of my talk-or asked any man to take a snootful of ***** on my account?
Have I put wool in my own ears when men tried to tell me what was good for me? Have I been a *** listener?
Have I taken dollars from the living and the unborn while I made speeches on the retributions that shadow the heels of the dishonest?
Have I done any good under cover? Or have I always put it in the show windows and the newspapers?
1.8k
Eve held two cigarettes in her lips and lit them. She passed one to Mark, beside her on the chaise. Thomas was with Delilah in the bedchamber getting a few lessons in life. They were making noises like a slaughterhouse as Mark tried to focus his thoughts.
He left the couch and went to the phone, dialing Satan’s office. Eve watching him with heavy lids, her arm stretched across the curved backboard. She inhaled forcefully, making thick clouds that obscured her face, then her head, and then the whole couch. He was watching her too, wondering what she was up to as Satan picked up the line.
“Yeh?” said the devil.
“Satan, Mark. We’ve got to talk.”
Satan was silent for a moment, then said sharply, “Look, they’ve got wire-taps.
Why don’t you come over here? We can talk in person. It’s safer then taking a chance on them listening.”
Mark thought that was smart, but if they were listening they’d already gotten an earful, but he had to take that chance.
He hung up the phone and fanned the air with his hands. The girl was gone.
He heard chuckling from the bedchamber and realized there were more voices than before, loudly squealing and giggling. He heard Thomas moaning in utter delight and decided to leave him there. As far as Thomas was concerned, Purgatory never felt so good.
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 11:33 PM UTC
I sold her a bag of dreams
It had a hole at the bottom
She gave me winter and spring
Summer and most of her Autumn
I left her not looking back
Standing there
Clutching tightly
An earful of sorry stories
And a bottle of Bacardi
May 19, 2019
May 19, 2019 at 4:21 PM UTC
Little one, you have been buzzing in the books,
Flittering in the newspapers and drinking beer with
lawyers
And amid the educated men of the clubs you have been
getting an earful of speech from trained tongues.
Take an earful from me once, go with me on a hike
Along sand stretches on the great inland sea here
And while the eastern breeze blows on us and the
restless surge
Of the lake waves on the breakwater breaks with an ever
fresh monotone,
Let us ask ourselves: What is truth? what do you or I
know?
How much do the wisest of the world's men know about
where the massed human procession is going?
You have heard the mob laughed at?
I ask you: Is not the mob rough as the mountains are
rough?
And all things human rise from the mob and relapse and
rise again as rain to the sea.
1.1k
We talk with
The flitting understanding
Of space
Between two feeding birds.
Eyes look away
And return eagerly
Waiting to transmit
More of the feeling.
The feeling
Between us both
That both implodes walls
And builds them.
The feeling
That blushes in our words
And makes our silences
So loud.
The feeling fluctuates
Softly around our eyes
And strokes us both
With intangible caressing.
Stare at me.
Speak with me.
Be silent with me
For no matter what is said
Or unsaid
I am getting
An earful.
Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 1:25 PM UTC
the blink that releases the tear that all lovers fight,
the day that all lovers dread,
the words that all lovers despise,
the pain no lover ever wants to feel...
as a lover of all things,
it amazes me how that blink, that day, those words and that pain always finds a way back to me
like a firefly moving hurriedly through the night, I find myself back in this familiar darkness
I find myself alone and afraid, searching for the light, yet again
I find myself hopeful that you will be the one to come and provide that light
I find myself waiting patiently for your return
I find myself hoping endlessly that this is your idea of a cruel joke
The memories, they haunt me
Small moments of what used to be happiness turn into reminders that we are no more
The silence, it eats away at me
Being left alone with my thoughts turns into an earful of tears
The music, it speaks for me
Every song on the radio turns into the soundtrack of my life
The heartbreak, it controls me
Those butterflies that once occupied the pit of my stomach turned into bees that sting with every aching heartbeat
Who says time heals all?
From everything to nothing in the blink of an eye
I don't doubt that it will take an eternity of blinks to fill this void
This emptiness, this loneliness, this sadness...
Falling out of love is far too difficult..
Won't you catch me?
Your hands are the only ones that possess the power to unbreak my heart
From now until you're mine again, no one else will have the opportunity to get close enough to even try
What am I supposed to do with this heart of mine?
It belongs to you...it always has, it always will
This power you have over me...I call it love
I loved you then, I love you now and I will love you forever
One of these days, I'll blink and you'll be back
I'll be awaiting that day just as the moon waits for nightfall
Is that foolish? I don't care
In love and war, everything isn't fair
We have to grow alone in order to grow together
Nothing but sunlight can follow this stormy weather
So until next time my dear lover,
I will never love another...
Ex's & O's
</3
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 10:55 PM UTC
Everything is unraveling,
To reveal a side of us that we don’t always believe.
I love you, he loves me.
Why can’t everything come that easily?
We were sure to be so very careful with our hearts.
They got an earful of word spoken,
but the exception always comes.
Actions can speak too, that is where I lost you,
in loves devotion.
I still felt no emotion behind the sentence on the screen.
Fairytale meetings only in my dreams.
Like a ball of yarn falling to the ground,
I would never hurt you now as we unravel to our core.
And find there's really nothing more,
Than air.
Dec 15, 2011
Dec 15, 2011 at 12:37 AM UTC
Spiritual hope is in my pleading soul
Until the wondrous Rapture comes!
Christ be in my futile heart
Kindly looking down on me!
O Lord how I earnestly beg of you,
Fearful and worthless creature that I am,
Forgive me as I grovel before Thy Cross!
Cleanse me please of sin dearest Lord,
Help me to know my own faults,
Raise me from the dust and dirt
Into which I am condemned to lie!
Slake my thirst for Holy Truth,
The Truth which only Thou can bring!
Only Thou, O great Lord, our Hope,
No one else can save the world,
Thou great Savio[u]r up above
Hearken unto our weedy and feeble cries!
Everlasting life is what you bring,
Crucified for us on Calvary
Royal and Holy Hill of Death,
Our only hope of Salvation!
Save us O mighty sweetest Lord,
Save us this coming Eastertide!
All must fall down on their knees,
Not forgetting to confess our sins
Devoutly worshipping the Lord's
Saving grace in this wicked world
Wherein we must toil and strive,
And at the last we must come face to face
Loving you, O great Lord!
Let Thy holy words filter down
On us like humble Easter Eggs,
World without end in thy embrace!
How can we dare to approach Thee
In the knowledege we are hopeless sinners,
Sinful filth from the days of Adam and Eve?
Sweet blessings we beg of Thee,
Prayers we send up to Heaven like emails!
Unless we confess and beg forgiveness
No one may be saved for the
Kingdom eternal in the sky!
Yea, please do not crush us to atoms
Underfoot as we grovel in the dust
Mutely offering up our anthems to Thee!
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 9:26 AM UTC
It's shallow
How you try to be so deep
And it's level
How you try to be so steep
It's sad
How you try to be so cheerful
It's quiet
When you try to give an earful
You're trying
And it breaks my heart to watch it
Because you're failing
All you seem to do is botch it
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 5:21 PM UTC
life the grandest stage.
life, gelid waters – I, the pompous admiral.
life, thorns withholding enigmas,
clenching the true blood of flowers.
life, the flimsiest avant-garde.
our measures
conceal all our knowledge,
our fondness of exactitudes
bludgeons us to back to our smallness.
the heart, like a riot,
will always scream blood.
the soul, like a jailbird,
will always carve a song.
the mind, like a grave,
will turn soundless filled with bones.
some will beat back to the same old music,
assaulting the others with a concealed knife
gutting all of us as we lay still – the rest shaking around us.
when I was young, I was unsure of myself
and now that I have aged, it is all but the same:
I am a horde of drunkards.
I am the incessant pendulum.
I am the night-watch
and sometimes I am being watched by the night itself.
I am the loutish vandal on the wall.
I am hot, steaming music I am an earful of ***
I am a handful of hollow I am the dandelion whittling away
in the garden of full women seething with woes
I am the catapult of air from the sling of trees I am a somber god
I am an ungodly god I walk over toppled waters past genuflected hills
like maddened horses screaming victory
I am a limbless beast crawling back home
I am young I am old
my blood ravages the sinews of my body – I am a binaural cinematheque
of slow minutes I am a mausoleum of chiaroscuros
I am all pleasure pleasure pleasure
I am just as ****** as everyone I am sour mash stirred in a wide-mouthed
glass clinking together with this heavy slither of attendance around me
somewhere in Pasay
I am love I love I am hate and I hate
I am forever the lion that roars at what life has done to us
and they will cage me soon when the roses shy away from the deliberate daylight
and when all of this is through
I have only just begun.
Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 9:39 AM UTC
King Ahasuerus desires a mate
'One chooses Esther one thinks she's first rate.'
Later he's soppy and showers her with kisses
Then honours his promise and makes her his missis.
Haman gets an earful ; the King's in a strop.
'You're history you hear us. You're for the big chop.'
'Oi, Haman, I'll miss you
Just Like a used tissue!'
Mordecai's very cheerful
Though once he was fearful
'Oy vey, I'm relieved
The Jews are reprieved'
Jeer and boo with a passion
Nibble hamantashen
(Poppyseeds are the filler)
That's the gansa megillah
Miriam Troth 2016
Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 7:06 AM UTC
I splash my blood across my father's new *******
a woman now
his liver is thin
and his new lover
(he is whispering as he rapes me)
is an image of my brother
remove his cartridges alone and place the bullets in my heart
my mother cries
and my father mumbles to himself
i rise from the grave
remove my father's gums
i place my teeth in his mouth
and i collect sinew from my unborn brother
i order my father into the ground
i dash his newborn's face into a **** stained alley
i ask for my father's
full name, date of birth
and
his mother's most exciting fetish
with another larvae from my father's womb
another show of strength
here now i have absolute strength
..
a man came to me as a child
and that same man told me
enter me and you will love nothing but me
..
my mother and my father become a new awe.
into the soil a beautiful odor blossoms
where there was a palm of lilac,
a scene of gore.
and
where was an earful of ichor or
crested display of lilac?
my mother and i cry on her grandfather's grave
it is my first day free from prison
a great very loud exclamation
i remove what i feel to be an artery from leg
high up
above the knee
above the thigh
near my groin i bleed
and my mother does not see my pain
a
change of tone
a
change of pace
the undertaker is *****
the commitment is difficult
alas pride beckons
truth denies me
my own blood speaks and disgusts me
closing of my legs in 2029
with my father's ******* between my teeth
with my father's teeth swirling around my tongue
with my brother's cord now inside me
with my mother's tears on her grandfather's grave
with my unborn brother.
III.
with my son
with the one i love
IV.
i enjoy the moment
i do not splash my blood across my father's *******
i do not ingest my unborn brother
a
change of tone
a
change of pace
i am not released from prison.
i have not been released from prison
a second part beckons.
i continue consuming serpent's droppings.
my spider's egg-sac continues singing.
a terrible wave of violence.
my father's teeth swirl over, altogether across my tongue.
into my pallette.
my new-york strength fighting.
a terrible wave of violence.
my father's new ******* between my teeth
and my splashes of blood on his hand-me-down mantle.
Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 4:12 AM UTC
A brush melds with canvas,
releasing feelings so long oppressed.
a ****** mess, a haunting duress, nature's caress…
A painting so vivid, lust for adventure intrepid,
rushing streams, ambience in earful,
why can't life be this beautiful?
Musicians play, painters paint,
a journey to alternate reality so faint.
Escaping pollution and worldly restraint
body and soul become twain,
imagining what could have been.
Nature's figure, flawless, uncorrupted
Death, anointed and serene,
portrayed in cascades, dissonant,
by the marionette of dreams.
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 12:05 AM UTC
Feeling deathly
Dearly or Darely
The fresh
Prince air
Royalty flew________->> her ear
Losing my wing
Tight hug hold- bearing
Seat me ((The Group))
The fruit loops caring
Jefferson Airplane______*
The rain in
Spain
Graphically
Airbrushed
Shes the marvel
of comics flight book
How you used
to travel no
panics or air
fanatics
I was his carvel___*
to the top
He's mainly for me
Hey! don't cop
out on me____#
My mind isn't
any number
Deli take out
Scared my wits out
He's a flight low
feeling brain____ dead
Ah! Vey is that so?
Ring around to
ears of corn
I met Rosy
Some writer's
block
The ear revolves
around wake up clock
So many planes
crashed
Remembering Mom
Saying here's the
airplane
Feeding
The code yellow
She's the alert me- red
The dead weight of air
In retrospect
The plane on air--- pop
Shes so retro on
the go non-stop
This is dedicated to
the one I love
He's the frequent flier
Come-back< Go- Foward>
the landing
The Godly sending
toward me
But the butterflies
Got the pilot___ cockpit*
Dunkin Donuts
Spilled the beans
Hitman
Macadamia Hawaii
I welcome you nuts
Rose blossom Japan
trees escalate
Bali Islander Barista (Cafe)
She was wearing
her lucky red-
Long earful (Giraffe)
Speak up we need
more ears were short
Did you hear me?
Jun 3, 2018
Jun 3, 2018 at 10:45 AM UTC
Don't lose your head to gain a minute -
You need your head, your brains are in it!
Romances are wrecked before they begin,
By a hair on the coat
Or too few on the chin.
Many a forest used to stand
Where lit matches got out of hand.
Henry the eighth,
Prince of fiskers,
"Lost" five wives but kept his whiskers!
My neck was sore in front before,
And also sore behind once more.
The Cannibals took just one view,
And said,
"They look too nice to stew."
Holler! Half a pound
For half a dollar, isn't that a cheerful earful?
Hello, Druggist!
I don't mean maybe -
Yes, sir! That's the baby!
Listen. Knock on wood
When offered something "just as good."
Give the guy
The toe of your boot
Who tries to hand you a substitute!
A big improvement since the war
Is now on sale in your drug store.
He saw the train
And tried to duck it,
Kicked first the gas & then the bucket!
In seventy years of brushin' soap on,
Gramps could've painted the pentagon.
The whale put Jonah
Down the hatch,
But coughed him up because he scratched!
5-star generals & privates first class
Show equal rank in the looking glass.
Clancy's whiskers
Tickle Nancy,
Nancy lowered the boom on Clancy!
Is he lonesome or just blind-
This guy who drives so close behind?
The safest rule,
No ifs or buts,
Just drive like everyone else is nuts!
For early morning pep & bounce,
A brand new product we announce!
Train approaching,
Whistle squealing, pause!
Avoid that rundown feeling, cause!
When the stork delivers a boy,
Our whole **** factory jumps for joy.
Although insured,
Remember kiddo,
They don't pay you - they pay your widow!
May 5, 2025
May 5, 2025 at 12:32 PM UTC
PSYCHOTIC,
INSANE,
DERANGED,
and UNSTABLE,
DELUSIONS,
CONFUSION,
WACKO,
and, A ******
A NUTJOB, and CUCKOO,
WHEN YOU ARE
SO FEARFUL,
AFRAID OF WHAT IS NOT,
GOT US HEARING AN EARFUL,
you thought you
saw something,
cos
OF YOUR OWN THOUGHTS,
seeing SPOOKS, and THE UNNATURAL,
a LITTLE BIT OFF,
You are VERY UNHINGED,
HEARING VOICES IN YOUR HEAD,
up In your OWN MIND,
DON'T LET THE PARONIA WIN,
GET A GRIP, and TOUGH SKIN,
cos
WHATEVER THEY SAY:
tell them
"NO!!!"
YOU'RE NOT REAL
and
GO FAR, FAR AWAY,
GET OUT OF MY CONSCIENCE,
YOU CAN NO LONGER STAY,
YOU ARE CREEPIN US OUT,
WITH SUCH A FIXED STARE
as if SOMETHING is INVISIBLE
STANDING RIGHT THERE,
YOU'RE IN SUCH A FRANTIC,
You are SERIOUSLY LOSING IT,
Having us in a panic,
COS,
of your
SCHIZOPHRENIC,
but that's OK,
Help is on the way,
JUST BE SURE TO TELL THOSE
PSYCHOPATHS
TO STAY FAR AWAY!!!!!
B.R.
Date: 9/26/2025
Sep 26, 2025
Sep 26, 2025 at 8:55 PM UTC
earful of mosquito buzz
disturbs reverie
a wave of the hand
brings silence
then
the quick sting
and slap to the neck
tiny mangled body
wings twitching
a drop of blood
trickles down palm's
lifeline crease
wiped on pant leg
forgotten
until
it swells
and itches
as we scratch
with nibbled fingernails
whispering curses
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 1:46 PM UTC