"ellen" poems
African woman
Mother of civilization.
Oh beautiful woman,
Thou are beyond description.
African woman
Queen of the people of Mamba.
Jambo to all those in heaven
Bless you too my dear mama.
African woman
Royal Nubian Queen.
The backbone of her man
You'll do anything to help him win.
Single Black woman
Made of broken pieces
You're the breadwinner,Superwoman.
You're the symbol of strength in all places.
African woman
Daughter of Eve's.
Thou are God's true specimen,
And the apple of his eyes.
Black woman
Daughter of Africa.
Blueprint of a **** woman,
Dark hue of coffee arabica.
African woman
Mother of humanity
Chieftess of ancient Nyngoman,
Mama Africa's bounty.
African woman
My Mandingo bride.
First woman of Africa's Eden
Center of God's black tribe.
Nigerian woman
My Yoruba Queen.
Envied by the women of Oman,
Cafe ou lair, cream of Africa's cream!
Warrior woman,
Queen of Wakanda.
Come and flip your wand,
Find the soul of Sarafina.
Curvy woman
In your womb lies Africa's future.
My Lormah woman
Oyobuays marvels at your structure.
Beautiful woman,
Perpetual envy of the silicon woman.
Pride of the Black man,
The essence of a real woman.
Indigo Woman
Lillies of the African plains.
Thou are Eve of the African Eden,
Best of the portraits that nature paints.
Voluptous woman,
Full, thick natural lips.
Real assert of the Black woman,
Nature gets aroused by your hips.
Ellen Sirleaf, today's woman,
Africa's first female president.
A Liberian woman,
Loved and revered wherever she went.
Smile ,Gambian woman,
You're daughter of Sarakunda.
Roots of the Black American woman,
Captives of the kanda Bolinga.
South African woman
Mariam Makeba
Sang for freedom and fought like a man
You were truly Soweto's finest Deva.
Dark ebony woman,
You are red, yellow and green.
Hanmatan wind stops at your command,
Born to slay and be seen.
African woman
Thou are the only reason
God put Adam in a coma.
Your perpetual beauty transcends time and Season.
African woman,
Under your cleavage, the Nile flows
And between your fingers, golden threads are woven,
You are the reason Beyonce glows.
Harriet Tubman, brave woman
Smuggled slaves underground.
She was a freed Black slave woman,
Who avowed to leave no soul behind.
Creative woman
Maya Angelou, gifted poetess.
Famous writer and a Black woman
Will be remembered for her poetic prowess.
Native African woman,
Africa's limestone and cement.
A mother, a wife, virtuous woman,
Lioness and the spine of the continent.
Liberian woman
Roots of my poetry, you gave me life
You are every woman.
Your edges are sharper than the Sumarais knife.
#IvanBrookspoetry©
13/8/2018
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 4:56 AM UTC
If I could,
I would pick up my ink pen
and drown an ocean into you
instead of drowning you in it.
Extract these rotting feelings
for the sake of your ignorance.
Carve scriptures into each delicacy of your brain
so you wouldn’t have to dwell in such misery every day.
Wire faith
to your blemished heart.
Imbue purity
to your sullied soul.
If I could,
I would write you through all depths of insanity
without any harm
so that your
mind no longer persists the thought of death.
There was a time I thought you were dead.
Only you were painted red
in a black and white world.
Like you have been walking barefoot on a broken road
your whole life.
Your demons imitate life
And life imitates the demons.
You are the one being tied down by invisible, nonexistent chains.
So unaccepting of help that has come for you
Watch
the sun touch the horizon
reach the meeting of sun and ground
and
Find further still,
The limits you would like to reach only run from you.
You have such a murderous tongue
for society
people.
But one day I hope to see you write yourself into existence
Rather than to let yourself drown in it.
Why has you dying become something so habitual?
Darling, death is not a friend of yours
Nor are you a friend of his.
But I know of your frequent dates with death
Tell me
Does his neck feel like happiness
And do his lips relieve you of your suffocation
Now
are you lost?
or are you found?
Do you recognize the irony
Of the most terrifying things happening in the most angelic places
Charm yourself upon that bridge
Whose lights light up the city in golden arrays
With a glazed look
you’d think.
In sadness seen go by
You are charmed by either war or hope.
These occurred robberies have taken much
But they left opportunity
Important people
And a moon in your window
A future that only you know the ending of
And a slice of the midnight sky.
So it goes.
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 10:21 PM UTC
My Country Tis of Thee,
Sweet land of liberty-
Or so we sing.
Land where my fathers died-
But my forefathers died in a battle
Trying to keep their slaves;
My fathers killed your fathers
For trying to run away;
My fathers **** your fathers
Cause it's late at night, and
He's reaching for his gun-no, wait,
His ID?
Land of the pilgrim's pride-
But so often we leave out of history
How if it weren't for a Native American,
The pilgrims would've died.
From every mountainside-
Like Stone Mountain in Georgia,
Where Rebel Generals are memorialized,
Where the **** was revived-
God, help me, I can't hear freedom's ring;
I can only hear white-washed history.
From every mountainside-
But these days, the mountain is in my chest,
And liberty's ring sounds a lot different,
And a lot of folks don't like it.
Let freedom ring-
And I want to fight for freedom for all-
#BlackLivesMatter-
I want to help-
HANDS UP, DON'T SHOOT!
But-
I
Can't
Breathe.
Let freedom ring!-
But peaceful protests turn into
Bloodbaths as those who have sworn
To serve and protect are sniped down.
Let freedom ring!-
I try to educate myself
On the side of history not taught-
I've always felt that Nat Turner was the bad guy,
But these days I'm questioning it.
I read "The Meaning of Fourth of July for the *****
by Frederick Douglass
And I read "Bury Me in a Free Land"
by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
and I read "Sympathy"
by Paul Laurence Dunbar
and I read "Letters from Birmingham Jail",
"The Mountaintop Speech", and
"I Have a Dream"
by Dr. King.
When I was younger,
I'd research Dr. King & his colleagues
For fun.
I'd wonder, "If I lived in the Civil Rights era,
What would I have done?"
But when I turned seventeen,
I realized, "I live in a Civil Rights era;
What am I going to do?
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 5:28 PM UTC
handpicked blueberries in yogurt,
tea on the porch, Ellen,
in desperation to plant a raspberry bush.
jogging through a grasshopper field
holding in screams at the small green chirps
shooting up around my ankles.
grimy trails of sweat, the daddy longlegs
crawling out from under my thigh
the dirt at home under my nails.
nickel-bright stars above
the trees, a cool tress rising,
buzzing in the porch light of
bugs going for our jugulars,
still tight and smooth.
May 5, 2013
May 5, 2013 at 8:32 PM UTC
you see i am very very hungry, so much in fact
i burp very weirdly, yeah i feel so weird
i burp loud and i burp soft when i have a nice cream bun or a nice beef nachos
and i feel like a nice packet of chocolate biscuits
ya know to have with my coca cola
i was watching ellen degenerous and i felt like eating the pie that went in the contestants face
yeah i feel like a bag of popcorn as well as choctop at the movies
because my mouth is burping very weirdly
i don’t want to have this burping feeling
i feel like a strawberry milk and i am fighting myself saying, no, i don’t need it
the strawberry milk says yes, i do, but i don’t want a strawberry milk, it’ll just make me fat
i wanna lose weight but the burping is making me want food, i want a nice chocolate bar
and i want a bag of marshmallows, i want to have more energy
so i can be a cool person, that i am,
i know the burping really is bugging me
and i do want it to stop, STOP, making me feel this way, i want to an artist and a writer and not an eater
please leave me alone strawberry milk and leave me alone chocolate biscuits, i don’t want to eat you
i feel like a chocolate biscuit, but then i say, i will grow fat, ya know keep the fat on me
i don’t want to be fat, i want to lose weight, so leave me alone ya ****** strawberry milk and coke
i want to feel fit in my mind, so i can write and be creative
please leave me alone, junk food, i don’t want to eat you
but the junk food gets in my mind and makes me smell the nice chocolate
i know coke used to be a medicine, but i don’t wanna drink ya
i like to have a healthy lifestyle, and i want to lose this burping because
it’s the medication making me wanna eat, like donuts and vanilla slices and cream buns
and dewok chinese stir fry’s and chocolate biscuits and chocolate desserts and strawberry milk
and a large bottle of coca cola, as my medicine, I DON’T WANT THAT
i had a garden salad for lunch as well as a few glasses of water
i hate being fat, so that means at 2-30 pm, i will go for another walk, whether i feel like it or not
because i must get rid of all this food from my body, so i don’t get diabetes
so if you feel fat, because you eat too much food, push yourself into walking
and walk a regular pace, so you don’t feel sluggish
Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 10:06 PM UTC
(To Ellen Terry)
I marvel not Bassanio was so bold
To peril all he had upon the lead,
Or that proud Aragon bent low his head
Or that Morocco’s fiery heart grew cold:
For in that gorgeous dress of beaten gold
Which is more golden than the golden sun
No woman Veronese looked upon
Was half so fair as thou whom I behold.
Yet fairer when with wisdom as your shield
The sober-suited lawyer’s gown you donned,
And would not let the laws of Venice yield
Antonio’s heart to that accursed Jew—
O Portia! take my heart: it is thy due:
I think I will not quarrel with the Bond.
3.4k
(To Ellen Terry)
In the lone tent, waiting for victory,
She stands with eyes marred by the mists of pain,
Like some wan lily overdrenched with rain:
The clamorous clang of arms, the ensanguined sky,
War’s ruin, and the wreck of chivalry
To her proud soul no common fear can bring:
Bravely she tarrieth for her Lord the King,
Her soul a-flame with passionate ecstasy.
O Hair of Gold! O Crimson Lips! O Face
Made for the luring and the love of man!
With thee I do forget the toil and stress,
The loveless road that knows no resting place,
Time’s straitened pulse, the soul’s dread weariness,
My freedom, and my life republican!
2.8k
Starting from the newest, these are my first fifty followers on Hello Poetry.
1. Hailey L May 5
2. Elizabeth Squires May 4
3. Tim Knight May 3
4. Morgan Hanchulak May 3
5. Vi Snicket May 2
6. Jessica Applegate Apr 30
7. Himanshu Koshe Apr 30
8. Mike Winegar Apr 29
9. Joey Lapiana Apr 29
10. Christopher Munro Apr 29
11. Raffi Kaftajian Apr 26
12. Shari Forman Apr 25
13. Jessica Who Apr 24
14. RedWritingHood Apr 22
15. Adreishka Moonlight Apr 21
16. Rocky G Apr 19
17. Sarina Apr 18
18. John Moffatt Apr 17
19. Izisfat Apr 9
20. Leila Apr 8
21. Marian Apr 5
22. Star Toucher64 Mar 30
23. Michelle Mar 26
24. Kristo Frost Mar 25
25. Ra Mar 20
26. Jacqueline Melissa Woolums Mar 15
27. ennyo Mar 11
28. Ellen Menzies Mar 9
29. Jodi Casavant Mar 8
30. Jillyan Adams Feb 20
31. Hailey Scomet Feb 2
32. Pete Taken Alive Jan 17
33. Md HUDA Jan 6
34. Joshua Ohmer Jan 1
35. Quinn Puwang Dec 30, 2012
36. Rissa Ann Dec 10, 2012
37. Hilda Dec 9, 2012
38. Rena Julleitta Dec 7, 2012
39. Emily Rose Williams Dec 7, 2012
40. Abdosh A Dec 5, 2012
41. Naveena Vijayan Dec 4, 2012
42. Kristian Alexander George Dec 1, 2012
43. Oliver Delgaram-Nejad Dec 1, 2012
44. Chessnie Lea Nov 27, 2012
45. Ugochukwu-Charles Onyewuchi Nov 25, 2012
46. Timothy Nov 24, 2012
47. Who Am I Nov 24, 2012
48. Matthew P Hill Nov 23, 2012
49. Tomas Nov 21, 2012
I gained inspirations for my poems from all my followers, those who I follow and especially my lovely little one who brought me here to Hello Poetry first, to a safe haven of like-minded people with a poetic niche each.
Thank you all.
First of all I thank you Eliot York for creating this wonderful poetry blog.
(-: And how can I ever thank you enough for introducing me to this wonderful website, just like Krishna guides Arjun in grand Mahabharata epic. You are my Krishna and I am your Arjun. :-)
(-: You share the place with Eliot York and the family of Timothy sir for inspiring my poems & helping me define my poetic style. As you are a kid for me, your heart is a crystal to me from where I can see the world more clearly in a different way. :-)
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 7:02 AM UTC
I’ve got plenty of ghosts I promised her. I leave them wherever I go.
At the house on 711 Ellen St there is the ghost of a dog named Hessa and a dog named Mac. They don’t play together, but they pant heavy, waiting my return.
There is the ghost of a cat named Charles. He chases a raccoon out of a busted window that my mother fell through.
There is the ghost of my mother pacing the living room, contemplating suicide.
When ghosts die, they become useful fire, burning as long as necessary, and then blowing out forever.
There is the Ghost of Louie, helping me fix my car. There are the ghosts of our tall cans crushed to the curb. There is the ghost of their fullness. Little drops that are left sit in the rim of the mouth.
Every moment makes a ghost. Every time you move something from stillness, there is a ghost for it.
When I come to see you, I will leave behind the ghost of laughter, the ghost of my warmth growing colder. Miss it if you want to.
There is the ghost or your taste in my mouth. Certain foods bring it back to life. I let the Bud Light sit on my tongue. I almost tasted it. Something is missing.
There is the ghost of your smell. It tricks me into craning my neck, eyes searching for you. There is the ghost of your smile which haunts me when the ghost of your smell tricks me into thinking you’re there.
There is the ghost of my cool breath dying on your neck, then dying again. The fire it becomes extinguishes quickly.
Behind your couch there is the ghost of a cricket. He has stolen a harmonica and plays only the high notes. Tell his family that he misses them.
There are the ghosts of apples that I skinned when I learned to make pies in high-school. I have made many apple pie ghosts since then. I will bring one to you. It will be a slow ghost. The steam rising from the middle is its spirit returning home.
Home is your chest. Breathe the ghost of my pie, the ghost of my cologne, the ghost of my eyes wet with poetry I have just read.
There is the ghost of poetry as it mixes with my breath and exits my chest. Let it die and die again. Let it haunt your heart, your belly, the back of your neck like a gentle hand.
I make graveyards. I make ghosts. I leave them behind wherever I go. I miss some of them. There is the ghost of my irregular heartbeat, when I feel the ghosts that I miss pass by. I breath slowly trying to feel them, but too soon they are gone.
Ghosts don’t stay long. I can stay long. Make ghosts in the meantime.
When I come to see you, I will leave you with ghosts.
Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 3:12 PM UTC
Anne is 97.
"Oy, the bones!"
Walking ain't easy
Sitting draws pain.
"I use a heating pad."
Her pink house is a shrine
with 2 T.V. altars.
"I'm so lucky."
Marilyn is 72.
"I ran my own modeling agency."
She orchestrates care,
for her mother Anne,
for husband Manny.
("He had a stroke.")
and for Debbie,
her daughter with M.S.
"WHO TOLD YOU SHE HAD M.S. ???!!!!"
screamed her text.
I pause, . . . . .
Volcanic fissures of paranoia erupt weekly.
(she's tired, living on that last nerve, Om..... I must forgive... forgive... forgive...).
"You did" I reply.
Anne,
Marilyn,
Manny,
and
Debbie.
And the pink house altars chanting.
Chanting greed.
Chanting wanna be, wanna more, wanna wanna om wanna wanna....
The kill-you-with-boredom soaps and talk shows blast from all T.V.s,
"ELLEN looks more like a man everyday, I like KATIE," she declares, as I quietly shut the door.
May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 3:15 AM UTC
The green grass is growing,
The morning wind is in it,
'Tis a tune worth the knowing,
Though it change every minute.
'Tis a tune of the spring,
Every year plays it over,
To the robin on the wing,
To the pausing lover.
O'er ten thousand thousand acres
Goes light the nimble zephyr,
The flowers, tiny feet of shakers,
Worship him ever.
Hark to the winning sound!
They summon thee, dearest,
Saying; "We have drest for thee the ground,
Nor yet thou appearest.
"O hasten, 'tis our time,
Ere yet the red summer
Scorch our delicate prime,
Loved of bee, the tawny hummer.
"O pride of thy race!
Sad in sooth it were to ours,
If our brief tribe miss thy face,—
We pour New England flowers.
"Fairest! choose the fairest members
Of our lithe society;
June's glories and September's
Show our love and piety.
"Thou shalt command us all,
April's cowslip, summer's clover
To the gentian in the fall,
Blue-eyed pet of blue-eyed lover.
"O come, then, quickly come,
We are budding, we are blowing,
And the wind which we perfume
Sings a tune that's worth thy knowing."
2.1k
(To Ellen Terry)
As one who poring on a Grecian urn
Scans the fair shapes some Attic hand hath made,
God with slim goddess, goodly man with maid,
And for their beauty’s sake is loth to turn
And face the obvious day, must I not yearn
For many a secret moon of indolent bliss,
When in midmost shrine of Artemis
I see thee standing, antique-limbed, and stern?
And yet—methinks I’d rather see thee play
That serpent of old Nile, whose witchery
Made Emperors drunken,—come, great Egypt, shake
Our stage with all thy mimic pageants! Nay,
I am grown sick of unreal passions, make
The world thine Actium, me thine Anthony!
2.1k
You see this is a classic case of
Nobody's perfect
You see my teeth are rotting away all because I thought drinking Coca Cola was the coolest thing in the world
But it is the sugar in the coke
Which makes the dental bill really high
I even thought drinking the cheap soft drinks weren't an answer but I felt like a cool person who thought drinking coke was cool but I am replacing coke with juice and water but even with juice you have to careful not to drink too much juice but I am on mental illness and I need to have something but it is costing money and really it makes me look ever so crazy
But dental bills can get high and I am the first to admit that my mouth is full of decay despite how many times I clean them
I clean them in the morning and before I go to bed but I still see decay desolving the teeth in my mouth
I wish I could go to my dentist in the sky to fix the problem
I have to make sure I understand that coke might be a nice drink
It might taste nice
But the damage it does to my body and teeth is bad
I love Coke and it makes me feel I belong in this world
It started from just a can and moved to bottles
And back in 2002 I was even more addicted to Coke when they were giving out the free bottles on the lids
I have drank more bottles of coke than you had hot dinners
I need to resist the taste the nice taste
I tried to get the image out of my head in tapestry and writing
But as I said this is a clear case of nobody's perfect
I want to feel good I hear voices of the past because
I want a better life
But what is a better life anyway
I drink coke to feel like a celebrity
I drink coke to feel young again
I want my young body back again
So I drink coke
All any other form of sugar
But I don't want diabetes
I ran around the block many times and the Coke was giving me bad voices
I went to the psych ward in 2004 and 2013 because of the Coca Cola
Ellen DeGeneres doesn't want a crazy Coke drinker on my show
You see I am writing this blog
And I still feel like tasting Coke
Even if I have a chafing on the bottom of my belly all because of the Coke
I wanted to feel like a normal guy or a young dude who gets high on the bubbles of Coca Cola
It started really when I saw young dudes drinking it on home and away
But they don't do it anymore
I drank 2 bottles of coke at a cafe in the city after I was helping people all day
I wanted to feel like an adult in a way ya know drink what I want sort of thing and I felt like if
But the dental bill came back to me
Like it was out to get me or something
The voices were forced by the Coke to send me completely crazy
It is hard to give up Coke when you see thin people drinking it
Or footy watching guys when. They should drink water but
As I said nobody's perfect
My teeth are rotting away
Athena can't cure it
My bottom teeth are fine
But the top were decaying away
I heard this one voice saying
I will have a nice refreshing can of Coke
But i want to turn my tastebuds off Coca Cola
Because 3-00 or 5-00 a day
Can cost $1000 a year
Feb 2, 2017
Feb 2, 2017 at 5:31 AM UTC
Ellen DeGeneres!
Mellow and generous,
Mellow and generous,
Ellen DeGeneres.
X2
How can we peddle this,
Greedy degenerates?
Mellow and generous,
Mellow and generous.
I was just reppin it
You cannot step to it,
Ellen DeGeneres,
Ellen DeGeneres!
bass drop
I am not popular
My, what a thot you were!
You should be jealous of
Ellen DeGeneres!
like Meek
I was just a lost boy
Never understood the cost boy
Never really worked a market
But I never really liked the market
I just wanna overcome the darkness
I just wanna wanna make the sun shine
I guess I really want love to be great again
**** all this hate again
Cause I see you're vicious like a shark is
I am so done with the corporate mind
Grinding machinery, that's not my kind
You are not kind, you are so shy
Scrapin the sky
Fake **** and lies
You think you know what I'm talking about.
I am a poet with way too much clout.
I hate the way that this hatred compounds,
You're just a clown! You make me frown.
Simultaneously
Unh!
Ellen DeGeneres!
Mellow and generous,
Mellow and generous,
Ellen DeGeneres.
Ellen DeGeneres
She's on my friends list!
Mellow and generous,
Ellen DeGeneres!
How can we peddle this,
Greedy degenerates?
Mellow and generous,
Mellow and generous.
Reppin this Emmy ****
Dressing too fabulous,
Ellen DeGeneres,
Ellen DeGeneres!
bass drop
I am not popular
My, what a thot you were!
You should be jealous of
Ellen DeGeneres!
I'm never gonna let my heart grow cold like that,
Never gonna do just what I'm told like that
That shit's old, my man
That shit's sold, my man
That shit's got us got us lookin' sideways in the fold, my man
Cause I think I hear a higher callin
Human race is fallin but you're stallin
I know you don't think you're Josef Stalin
But I think you look like Charles Ponzi,
Oo
(Sung)
My girl's not a cheater
So I don't think I really want to either
I don't think I ever wanna leave her
Iy just. want to. love,
Said Iy just. want to. love,
Said Iy just. want to. love.
(And party hard.)
Ellen DeGeneres!
Mellow and generous,
Mellow and generous,
Ellen DeGeneres.
Ellen DeGeneres
She's on my friends list
Mellow and generous,
Ellen DeGeneres!
How can we peddle this,
Greedy degenerates?
Mellow and generous,
Mellow and generous.
Reppin this Emmy ****
Dressing too fabulous,
Ellen DeGeneres,
Ellen DeGeneres!
bass drop
I am not popular
My, what a thot you were!
You should be jealous of
Ellen DeGeneres.
You should be jealous.
Ellen DeGeneres.
Reppin it, reppin it.
Ellen. Loooooove
Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 4:52 PM UTC
Audrey, look out the window and see your dreams.
Brydie, lay on the carpet and think of home.
Charlie, stand in the garden and let the rain wash the pain away.
Danielle, shout at the skies for this awful weather.
Ellen, smile as you see a rainbow in the distance.
Fiona, stick out your tongue to soften their fall.
Gemma, pretend there's nothing falling from the sky.
Hannah, dance in the rain in that favourite dress of yours.
Imogen, jump into puddles, one after the other.
Jade, wave to the people going past in their cars.
Keri, open your hands to cup the cold water.
Laura, laugh as the neighbour's umbrella turns inside out.
Molly, hope the grass is better for football tomorrow.
Natasha, sigh as you drive through it all.
Olivia, read a book by the nice warm fire.
Paige, sleep through the hammering of the droplets.
Queenie, scream as you dash through the storm.
Rhianne, fall back onto that squishy armchair inside.
Steph, pray for the sun to come out soon.
Tuula, watch the leaves huddle against the kerb.
Una, listen as they patter patter on the rooftop.
Victoria, take off those sodden shoes.
Whitney, snap another photograph or two.
Xandra, run to get back home to your family.
Yasmeen, follow the trail of the water on the window.
Zara, give up waiting for the rain to stop.
Mar 8, 2012
Mar 8, 2012 at 7:01 AM UTC
Change is the blink of an eye
or the shift of a gear.
Change is saying goodbye
or a new outfit to wear.
Change could be a decision
or the reverse.
Change could be a promotion
given to someone else.
Change could be a relationship
whether old or new.
Change could be a friendship
adding or taking away a few.
Change is biology
the study of life.
Change is psychology
talking to a man to drop the knife.
Change is adaptation
When we have to adjust.
Change is transition
be it to or from a new post.
Change is acceptance
be it about you or a situation.
Change is reluctance
to move beyond your current position.
Change is Barack Obama
when he killed Osama.
Change is Donald Trump
Acting like a complete dumb.
Change is regime change
President Ellen Johnson leaving her position
Change is working with something strange
President Weah winning the election.
Change is new wealth
When you enjoy new money.
Change is a better health
Replacing sugar with honey.
Change is giving birth
when you bring forth a child.
Change is death
Or being buried in the field.
Change is taking a wife
and gladly jumping the broom
And staying together for life
till death do your part.
Change is tomorrow
for nobody knows what it'll bring.
Whether it'll be some kind of sorrow
Or a song of joy for us to sing.
IvanBrookspoetry©️
Jan 23, 2018
Jan 23, 2018 at 2:03 AM UTC
Oh! might I kiss those eyes of fire,
A million scarce would quench desire;
Still would I steep my lips in bliss,
And dwell an age on every kiss;
Nor then my soul should sated be,
Still would I kiss and cling to thee:
Nought should my kiss from thine dissever,
Still would we kiss and kiss for ever;
E’en though the numbers did exceed
The yellow harvest’s countless seed;
To part would be a vain endeavour:
Could I desist?—ah! never—never.
1.4k
The Wizard Of Because
I live in a lap of luxury,
never again will I go hungry.
Life has been good so far,
big house and a fancy car.
Fame, fortune and power,
ten heads in my giant shower.
Can't remember last time when,
I slept at a cheap ****** inn.
Once was lost, now I'm found,
just like a dog in a pound.
Used to be naked, now fully clothed,
my whereabouts are undisclosed.
Every day is a new adventure,
cash only, never a debenture.
I have powers beyond belief,
some say, I'm just a common thief.
Can cure sickness, with just one touch,
if you have a broken leg, drop that crutch.
The future passes before my eyes,
I have unlimited amounts of supplies.
Not a disease, I can't cure,
cancer and aids are no more.
Been on Oprah, been on Ellen,
neither bought what I was selling.
Won the lottery sixteen times,
I've prevented many of crimes.
You can call me what you will,
my face is on the million dollar bill.
People pay to see me in action,
I love seeing their ****** reaction.
Now that I have your undivided attention,
ruling the world is my true intention.
Put people and things, in their rightful place,
**** half the world, we need the **** space.
No more busy streets,
no more money or stupid receipts.
Not a single crowded mall,
handicapped people standing tall.
No more standing in long lines,
no more tickets, no more fines.
No more government laws,
it's good to be the wizard of because.
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 8:13 PM UTC
The excitement builds before the show
Appearance anticipated, let's go
Out comes 2llen with applause galore
Crowd won't quiet, stoked for what's in store
Must say Ellen is such a **** dude
Whoops, oh...she's a she, I'm extremely rude
Ellen dresses with such casual care
Not a piece out of line, her fancy hair
Ellen completely involves her crowd
The silly shenanigans make them loud
She dances to the music everywhere
Famous for her moves, she then heads for the chair
She straddles the table with practiced skill for her advanced age and without a pill
She moves on to a famous brilliant guest
Uncommon talent to bring out their best
Music for the show picked eloquently
Ellen and staff almost always agree
The gifts she gives, the audience adore
Generosity leaves them wanting more
Cute that her mom's at every taping
Even stays awake and keeps from gaping
Ellen is actually my favorite host
Please forgive me, this little roast
If you're in the mood for a real good time
Tune to Ellen at three, on channel nine
You won't be disappointed, far from IT!
It's world wide known that Ellen's the ****
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 3:41 PM UTC
Walking in.
In hand, a pink/brown suitcase.
Wearing an orca suit.
Doesn't matter why.
Dark auditorium.
Millions of thumb faces.
Smudged away by the painter.
Stumbling up and down the seats.
Sitting in one.
Getting Up
Moving to another.
All of the sudden in the front row.
Watching the spectacle.
At hand & on stage.
Too bright to actually see.
Just a white sun spot.
Then everyone is waiting.
Women are called on stage.
They are beautiful.
One by one they step up.
The wood floor is worn & polished.
And then they say my name.
And I stand up.
I'm in a tight red dress.
I tip toe to the stage.
All the thumb faces are silent.
Relaxed & unfocused.
I stand there, feeling the end of a joke.
And they clap and we smile.
I'm in between Ellen and Madonna.
Suddenly, every one is gone.
And we leave the stage.
Behind the scene.
Everything is concrete.
Obsolete.
Madonna looks at me.
And I feel myself swallow any hope,
Of an ego.
Eradicated, I know she thinks I'm nothing.
I run to the small bathroom mirror.
My two front teeth are gapped.
Bent inward.
Tears spills out from my eyes and down my face.
I run into the alley and look around.
I remember I left my suitcase where I was sitting.
Back at my seat, everyone is gone.
My suitcase is open and empty.
All my clothes are mixed up with things on the floor.
I slowly gather them.
As the the janitor man applies lipstick,
The movie star mirror looking back.
I walk to the front.
Heels clicking.
A man with long black hair is waiting.
'Why didn't you get my suitcase?'
'I don't know.'
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 12:18 PM UTC
I dropped her off on the other side of the city
Lights blur past my window
And I lose focus
A different kind of space travel
I don’t know why I drove here instead
The house on Ellen
I had always imagined it as a sad thing
Keeping the shape of comfort
Waiting lonely for me to come back to it
The shattered window
And the holed walls
The singed edge crop-circle in the living room carpet
I broke in
The place smelled new
Like fresh paint
And good credit
I am not a vandal
But these places don’t feel like home
Unless something has been broken
Tonight
It was just a lock
My tires hugged the road like it didn’t want me to be there
Like hydroplaning without the rain
And every red light turned green
Just after I hit the breaks
Like a bully placing a hand on my chest and then saying
“Nah, I’m just ******* with you. Keep on going.”
There’s this place I sleep most nights
Only
I am still in the parking lot writing this
And I don’t want to go upstairs yet
By my parking place
Frogs ribbit
They sound content
Though they live along the water drainage line that seems like a stream
Only there are more flies and crickets to eat here
Home is a funny place
So I have decided this
Not that I believe in God but
I’ve decided
His hands are as big as the world
So big it is easy to feel like no one is holding you
Even when you're being hurled a million miles an hour
And maybe that is why I feel I have no home
I mean
Hold me like you are small too
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 4:31 AM UTC
2016 Museum of Modern Art Party in the Garden - Inside
Vera Ellen **** is an American fashion designer who is mostly known for her dresses. But most do not know that she started out with a higher education at Sarah Lawrence College.
She had a bachelor degree in art history. The founder of Vera **** Bridal House has become one of the most successful entrepreneurs. She was able to fulfill her dreams with a college degree. She is one of the world's most successful business tycoons that learned about entrepreneurship. If you want to have a degree in design or fashion, and at the same time explore business, then following Vera Wang's career path might be something you can consider. According to Rasmussen, **** has an estimated net worth of $115 million.
**** grew up with Chinese roots but she was born and raised in New York. She initially graduated from Chapin school in 1967 and then attended the University of Paris. Afterwards, she went to Sarah Lawrence College in Westchester County and took a degree in art history.
What many do not know is that she competed in the U.S. Figure Skating Championships. She was featured in Sports Illustrated, 1968 edition. When she did not make the cut for the US Olympics, she set her sights on fashion.
With her background in art, she entered Vogue as an editor immediately after graduating from Sarah Lawrence. She was the youngest editor in the publication. She moved on to Ralph Lauren 17 years later. At the age of 40, she became an independent bridal wear designer.
With her experience and education, she now works with renowned fashion designers and designs for the likes of Victoria Beckham, Ivanka Trump, Avril Lavigne and Kim Kardashian.
She does not limit her designs to wedding dresses alone. She also ventures into the realm of evening wear and retail.
Vera Wang's success stems from her love of fashion. To this day, she still enjoys skating though as a "multidimensional" sport.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-brisbane | www.marieaustralia.com/black-formal-dresses
Aug 8, 2016
Aug 8, 2016 at 10:33 PM UTC
Caitlin, Courtney, Emma, and Ellen
Just a few of the girls that I know
I hit it, I quit it, forget it so quick
Their name disappears at the do'
They're here for the night and our bodies connect
At the hand, then the mouth, then the groin
This fish has been caught but my skin remains taut
Confining my soul from being joined
Until she arrives, these girls can kick back
Watch TV, relax, but leave me alone
I'll shout when I need, and grin when they leave
But grieve until my darling comes home
She'll walk through the door, I'll forget all those ******
Came by to visit or even existed
Forgive me my sins, a villain, ich bin
But simple *** is in man's logistics
Call me a chauvinist but when the days over with
I always treat my lady like a queen
The one-nighters sustain lust ingrained in my brain
But none mean a thang [sic] when I'm with that girl of my dreams
Sep 6, 2011
Sep 6, 2011 at 10:11 PM UTC