"glue" poems
Gliding deftly along the city street
rolling quick and constantly
onward to some unknown scene,
some backward park in the nighttime
smoke curling from these
parted lips, moist and inviting
calling me somewhere I've never seen.
New day, new night
new feelings, rage in delight
fill me with your hilarious entropy,
knock my quarks into the next century,
will you please?
Now you're smoking the pipe and all at once you are free
between you and me, this smoke is thicker and sticks
like glue,
wispy and dreamy and the world spins and calls Toltec
telephone company can't pay me for all those calls collected
and rendered obsolete
Sun god dead as that silly calendar meme
Amaterasu,
and Imma tell you
these ladies in the picnic table
buried alive for boxed lunch and god's brunch
Jesus ******* Christ
and a indelible roster of good guys,
to which we all must strive to live and die
behind,
never moving forward
chasing our tails like a sick dog
under the jasmine runner between the decades-old tanbark
imported from overseas
dead trees
dead canine
and oh isn't it just divine?
You see it, pretty lady.
I can see it hiding behind your eyes
the things you don't tell the others because you're afraid
if they found out,
you'd be crucified.
Well honey I hate to inform,
With KGB efficiency that these love-a-dumbs
aint Methuselah,
they'll be dead!
long before your flood of tears tears me from the land
ballistas me across the great expanse to some strange Ararat
of the eastern seaboard,
or maybe wash me deep along the 80
into the desert sands and tiles
on a leaky cell phone screen
desperately trying to dial home on low battery,
realizing all this was one big deferred dream,
baking in the sun and shriveling
oh well, back to the grindstone-- all those lies plucked your nose,
gotta cut it back to size,
'else your soul it'll outgrow
Don't worry honey bee
It hasn't happened to me,
and We know with calcuable mathematical truth
that it'll never happen to you.
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 9:50 PM UTC
"But what if we're wrong?"
It was silent
But her thoughts echoed around in my head as we laid on top of her pickup truck
I swatted at the eighteenth mosquito chewing on my leg
I don't want this to be love
We were tangled up in the acoustic music they play on the radio on Sunday mornings
She was trying to dream up something clever to write about
And I was pretending I could learn to play guitar through osmosis,
As if blending myself in with the harmonies, finding her in every lyric, and sheer willpower would give me wings or at least magic guitar hands
She set the alarm, checked it over and over
She was not going to be late for her first day
I told her I'd be asleep when she got home, she told me she knew
I told her to wake me up
I wasn't looking for perfect
Perfect really only applies in first year physics courses
After that, we learn to fall in love with "rough around the edges" or "unique" or "unfinished"
As if their life is a puzzle that we need to complete
Just so you know, it isn't
She bought me breakfast and dropped me off
She used to tell me she loved me, but I know she didn't
She does now, so she doesn't have to say it anymore
When I said, "love," before, I didn't really mean it
Not like I mean loving the garden on the balcony of her apartment or thunderstorms in May
Even if I was a puzzle that she completed (and I'm not saying that I am), we didn't need any glue to fit perfectly
May 27, 2018
May 27, 2018 at 9:17 PM UTC
Friendship is built upon the foundations of
Unique and quirky first impressions.
It is not brought together by what others
May say or recommend,
It is not brought together by a Rubik’s cube
Or the use of super glue—
Friendship is just what it states!
Two or more ships brought together
To become one friend—thus the
Creation of Friendship!
It involves a raging sea of betrayals;
Of innocent white lies; of going astray;
Of being in the wrong place at the wrong time;
Of hatred and envy.
But Friendship is strong
And it prevails over anything above all else;
And when the bonds of
Friendship is that strong, nothing between
Friendship should ever; could ever be wrong!
However, you do get one or two that goes overboard
The bow of Friendship and are forever lost at sea
Hoping to be picked up by Cecrops, the Lost Mariner to
Remain forever a prisoner on the ship of Friends that
Corrupts the minds of truthfulness; of the One True bond
That which is called Friendship.
My ship is true and has never
Strayed from its course.
It is homeward bound towards
The foundation that which
Made it true; towards quirky
First impressions that’s unique and precious;
Back to the fleet yards and of harbors
of its creation--
The Fleet of Friendship.
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 2:55 PM UTC
I know not how many
million stars there are.
But I know there is
only one earth.
Maybe we have counted
the protons of the atom
as many it has in its nucleus
counted the electrons on the run
orbiting the nucleus.
But the spinning circle is a zero
yet to compute the unifying one!
It's a pattern spans the universe.
I know there are
billions of us human
out there on earth.
But all I want is only one.
Just to count on
a permanent one!
The big earth
is a bigger zero null.
Standing on barefoot
without the perpetual one.
No glue, no roof nor a sign
only on one pure rigid science!
Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 1:06 AM UTC
You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a foot
For thirty years, poor and white,
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.
Daddy, I have had to **** you.
You died before I had time ----
Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
Ghastly statue with one gray toe
Big as a Frisco seal
And a head in the freakish Atlantic
Where it pours bean green over blue
In the waters off the beautiful Nauset.
I used to pray to recover you.
Ach, du.
In the German tongue, in the Polish town
Scraped flat by the roller
Of wars, wars, wars.
But the name of the town is common.
My ****** friend
Says there are a dozen or two.
So I never could tell where you
Put your foot, your root,
I never could talk to you.
The tongue stuck in my jaw.
It stuck in a barb wire snare.
Ich, ich, ich, ich,
I could hardly speak.
I thought every German was you.
And the language obscene
An engine, an engine,
Chuffing me off like a Jew.
A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.
I began to talk like a Jew.
I think I may well be a Jew.
The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna
Are not very pure or true.
With my gypsy ancestress and my weird luck
And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack
I may be a bit of a Jew.
I have always been scared of you,
With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
And your neat mustache
And your Aryan eye, bright blue.
Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You ----
Not God but a ********
So black no sky could squeak through.
Every woman adores a Fascist,
The boot in the face, the brute
Brute heart of a brute like you.
You stand at the blackboard, daddy,
In the picture I have of you,
A cleft in your chin instead of your foot
But no less a devil for that, no not
Any less the black man who
Bit my pretty red heart in two.
I was ten when they buried you.
At twenty I tried to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do.
But they pulled me out of the sack,
And they stuck me together with glue.
And then I knew what to do.
I made a model of you,
A man in black with a Meinkampf look
And a love of the rack and the *****
And I said I do, I do.
So daddy, I'm finally through.
The black telephone's off at the root,
The voices just can't worm through.
If I've killed one man, I've killed two ----
The vampire who said he was you
And drank my blood for a year,
Seven years, if you want to know.
Daddy, you can lie back now.
There's a stake in your fat black heart
And the villagersnever liked you.
They are dancing and stamping on you.
They always knew it was you.
Daddy, daddy, you ******* I'm through.
29.7k
There's this mask I wear
The glue is so tight
Hiding me, hiding all
All you don't see, unless you get really near
That I'm not alright
My eyes are dark and deep enough for you to stand in
My wrists are ****** so are my thighs
My heart is shaky
And I've got non stop anxiety
But from far you see this mask
You hear my loud laugh
And see me hold my tummy in pain from giggling at my own joke
You swear I have recovered
When actually my late night tears help me keep the mask on
I may not look injured
Nor hollow
Or in pain
Just with this smile on my face
Of this mask that I wear
I hurt unheard and unseen,
Impatient for good days.
If my heart was transparent
A lot wouldn't be the same
Anyways, I'm already used to building these walls around my heart.
It's protected, I guess. From the outside world yet within me the storm never calms.
Tears wet these pillows
All night through sometimes wishing that morning must never come
Holding the grudge against myself
While smiling to all standing right in front of me.
Asking is this how life suppose to be.
Limping with anger yet holding the last thought of laughter
One hell of life we living.
You see...
This mask doesn't show things in 3D
That's why I love rainy days
Coz my tears are never recognized
Sadness engulf my soul while hoping that one day I will be able to remove the glue on this mask I wear.
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 9:11 AM UTC
a curved pastry
like a prune danish
in a sway
a weaving kiss
anointed by a melting stick of butter,
pushed and puddled
deep and slow
the shape of a heart
with a hole in the middle
ooow dark fig
stinking rose
a comfort that sweetens with the grace of form
and pops like a trigger releasing a bullet
i covet
with eyes like erections
pants sticky wet
hot glue factory
for you love, my *** angel
red skin girl gaping
with circular yearning set in motion
tarnished petal mix meister
sinful hot house
for quaking tongue and lips,
a wild cherry *** kisser
spiked ***** blushing
lord of ****
solar ******* hero
flexed and oiled
to the rescue
a god send
triumphant and blessed
looks like a fast cigarette boat
hitting the speed bumps hard
she said yes please
dip like
nautilus of the black sea
What?
no loitering
no parking
not a through street
haahaahaa
****
that
****
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 1:11 PM UTC
Mark A. Williams
SEPTEMBER 14, 1962 – JULY 23, 2018
___________________________________________________________
Wow Mark,
Was so, so saddened to hear this news. I haven't seen you in over ten years, but as kids, we had some amazing adventures, didn't we? Partying, camping and swimming at the Hudson lime pits. Mowing down on Pizza and pitchers of Pepsi (and as we grew up, BEER!) at Pizza Hut. (We knew the numbers to ALL the songs on that jukebox by heart!) Hanging out and looking at the stars through Budvido's telescope, listening to Doctor Demento. Laughing hysterically as we ran through Monty Python skits as everyone looked on in total puzzlement because THEY wouldn't discover them until YEARS later!
Building underground forts in the North Woods. You, Budvido, Zeke and I playing pinball at 7-11 for hours and hours. Watching Bands, chasing girls and playing Foosball or Pool at the Touch of Class Teen Club. You gave me my first Imported beer . . . a Lowenbrau. I will always owe my passion for those German beers to you and it was fitting that Budvido bestowed you with that moniker.
All through Jr. High, sharing a seat on the school bus. You, Matt, Tom, Buddy and I cruising around late night on our bikes for hours. Hanging around in the Jasmine Lakes sign with hijacked beer or getting free bags of Burgers from Burger Queen when they closed at night! Jousting with shopping carts on our bikes in the Winn-Dixie parking lot. Sitting up all night in Jimi's room after climbing in through the window or going on endless space cruises with him and Raymond in the Toyota.
(RIP Jimi Carlsen)
Sneaking into the nudest Colony and skinny dipping! Always cracking up at the school lunch table. Swimming in my pool and terrorizing my sister and her friends. (Allegedly) Trashing that crook Fast Eddie's produce stand after he refused to pay us for a full day of picking watermelons!
Good times, indeed . . . Some of my most precious memories.
I can only pray that you know that I wouldn't trade my youth or you in it for anything in the world and you will be sadly missed, Lowenbrau, my old friend.
I hope that where you are, your beers are ice cold and that you and Jimi aren't having to glue the Hookah back together.
Jeff Gaines
July 28, 2018
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 7:00 AM UTC
Tell me who can
Catch a toucan?
Lou can.
Just how few can
Ride the toucan?
Two can.
What kind of goo can
Stick you to the toucan?
Glue can.
Who can write some
More about the toucan?
You can!
21.5k
big sweaters, ghibli, acrylic paint, cafes, knit blankets and unplanned afternoon naps on the couch, gardens, bananas, vanilla almond milk, soft yarn to crochet into ****** scarves, candles after midnight, the big trees with bulky roots, patio furniture, pianos in random buildings, the internet, manatees, the boundless colours of nail polish, peanut butter & honey, rubber boots, pens that write well, fresh new notebooks, skylights, american netflix, mothers that understand, tête à têtes, one glass of sweet white wine, awkward eye contact that turns into comfortable kissing, airplanes, fresh air, baseball caps, the female collective, the really good dark chocolate, flowers, pumpkin spice lattes and ***** chai lattes, candid laughter, yoga, oceans, high waisted shorts, striped t-shirts, docile cats, playful pups, french presses, integrity, sunscreen, meerkats, penguins, chameleons, autumn leaves, fall fashion, ruby woo mac lipstick, osho, dynamic meditation, compassion, siblings, scrambled eggs, smart phones, garageband, metronomes, hot glue guns, quinoa, ferry boats, soft hands, bicycles, real people, fat snowflakes in ample, graceful ********** backpacks that don't hurt your shoulders, hair conditioner, multi-vitamins, soft sand under bare feet, people that own up to lies, clarity, samsara, satori, samasati, visions, echinacea, lavender oil and frankincense, ambrosia apples and ripe avocados, authenticity, Morgan Freeman's voice, good kissers, ******* iced tea on a hot day, curtains, the smell of beeswax, art galleries, hand massages and foot massages, reiki, plums, mild thunderstorms, soccer ***** good surprises, when birds don't **** on your head.
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 7:24 AM UTC
The hints of a razor gleam
creeping up from behind
shivers begin to scream
a thought undefined.
Crystalline destruction manifests
in shards of failed dreams
circulation and cells cease
I am dumber today.
Clogging and fogging the mind
promises cheat their way into lies
when depression becomes a way of life
serenity is found at the end of the line.
Escaping the cavity
in trails of shame
in vigour and madness
incapable of sadness.
Black hole eyes
cannot see the coming despair
the next morning impairs
certainty is a lie.
Senses start to fail
iron will turns frail
the devil’s sugar and salt
must never be taken so lightly.
Subtle and methodical
killing what makes you, you
another round for old time’s sake,
and you’re stuck to it like glue.
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 5:10 AM UTC
Alas dos na ng umaga,
Ako'y gising na gising pa,
Nag-iisip ng mga bagay,
Mga bagay na bumuo sa'king buhay.
Nasagi sa isipan ko yung mga alaala,
lahat, malungkot man o masaya,
Nag mistulang halo-halo na.
Kay rami ng sahog, yung iba di mo na kakainin pa.
Sa dami ba naman ng akyat baba at atras abante ng buhay ko,
Malamang nagkandaleche-leche 'to,
Alangan naman lahat naka super glue?
Ano yan? para di na matanggal kahit na bumagyo?
Anu-ano nga bang nangyari nitong mga nakaraang bwan?
Bakit parang nawala ako sa aking isipan,
Ano nga ba talaga ang tunay na dahilan?
Nitong isang aksidenteng aking kinasangkutan.
Isang sahog ang di ko kinaya,
Sa halo-halong aking kaharap sa mesa,
Salitang sa ibang dayalekto nagmula,
Nagsimula sa 'g' at nagtapos sa 'a'.
Limang letra, isang salita,
"gugma", ang isa sa sahog na aking nakita,
"gugma", ang may pinakakomplikadong lasa,
"gugma", minsay kay tamis, minsay kay pakla, minsay mapait pa.
Halo halo ko'y puno nito,
Mistulang lahat ng alaala koy tungkol dito,
"gugma", paksa ng aking bakasyon,
"gugma", isyu ng buhay ko hanggang ngayon.
Hay nalang, iisa palang perwisyo na,
Ano nalang kaya pag marami pa?
Ano yan? "gugma na sobra sa isa"?
Ayayay, naging salawahan pa...
Ang halo halong iisa ang sahog ngunit halo halo parin,
Sa dami ba naman ng iisang sahog di mo aakalain,
Mistulang iba't iba, ngunit sa katunayan, iisa,
"Gugma", sahog na dadaya sa iyong mga mata.
Aug 20, 2017
Aug 20, 2017 at 2:59 PM UTC
The eraser erased my bad habits
While the pencil drew in new ones
The glue stick glued on a whole new face
As the scissors cut away my background and past
The ball point pen then made the changes permanent
While the colored pencils shaded in my body
The calculator changed my way of thinking
As the sharpener grazed over my rough edges
Finally, the ruler
I had to measure up to your standards
Now me and you
We walk, talk and think the same
Two moving as one
I don't even know who I've become
What I was before
You've changed me more than you'll ever know
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 11:18 AM UTC
If you give a girl a with a big heart your broken pieces,
she will gently pick them up and carry them in her soft hands,
and pay no mind to your sharp edges.
She will try to glue you back together
and she’ll do it in a way that made you forget you were ever broken.
With scratched finger tips and ****** palms,
she’ll lift you up to the sun,
letting it's blinding rays shine through you
to show you that even the worst things have things to love in them
and that even the shattered can again be whole.
If you give a girl with a big heart your body,
she will study you like an archaic God.
She will learn your curves and surfaces like braille,
she will adjust her hearing to the pitch of your laughter
so that no matter how far apart you become,
her ears will perk up like a dog's when you giggle,
and she will smile, knowing that you smile.
If you give a girl with a big heart your time,
she will make each second feel like infinity,
and each sunset like the end of the world.
You'll forget that the universe is as vast and wondrous as it is,
because you will be so captivated by the light that she emits
right where she sits,
by your side.
And if you take from a girl with a big heart,
please,
for the love of God,
do not take it all.
If you take from a girl with a big heart,
please remember that her love is not a renewable resource.
The wind and the sun and the water will forever be there to serve you but
she will run dry, and become another fact of history that will one day be forgotten.
If you take from a girl with a big heart,
please remember how sharp your edges were before her,
how lifeless your body was before she touched it,
and how meaningless time was before she made it into something magical.
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 4:20 PM UTC
I am a makeup artist,
Hiding tears behind my masterpiece.
I can draw you smiles,
Paint you laughter,
Doodle you little dimples,
Glue glitter to your eyes.
I am a makeup artist,
don't be afraid.
I do it to myself all the time.
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 7:43 AM UTC
Can you feel the ache in my chest?
Can you touch the cracks in my heart?
Can you tell where my soul begins,
And where it's been torn all apart?
I'm made of sharp edges and pieces fit with super glue
Can you feel it?
I'm a heartless enigma and a soulless slice of truth
Can you feel it?
Enemies make the best friends and now I hate you
Can you feel it?
Lies are like a bullet to my heart, filling me with holes
A feeling of emptiness overwhelms me, a space too bold
Trying to hold on tight to a tangle too tied to unfold
Lost in a web of pain too damaged to be controlled
I'm made of broken glass, chipped and shattered
Can you feel it?
I'm an empty shell of something that once mattered
Can you feel it?
Pieces are falling, a love now bruised and battered
Can you feel it?
The harmony of injustice is ringing in my ears
A lullaby of sweet nothings and my childhood fears
A common trend unfolds, a chorus of chants and tears
A pain ripples through my body and the monster finally appears
Can you feel it?
Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 2:29 AM UTC
Won't you please just let me be
Please just leave me at my own peace
Won't you please just go away
When I say leave, I don't mean stay
When I push with all my might
Do not fight back, it is not right
When I stop and start to cry
Try not to look me in the eye
Do not try to fix my life
You were not the glue, but the knife
Say goodbye and let me go
Accepting all you do not know
Mar 15, 2014
Mar 15, 2014 at 11:10 PM UTC
So the day I say I'm done,and finished with it all..
Was the same day that the house of cards I built began to fall,
Karma huffed and puffed and blew it all away,
Whether i deserved it or not? well its hard to say,
I need to take it easy but im living life the harder way ,
Living life day to day - there's gotta be a better way,
Love Drunk from the potions from Amy's wine house ,
I sobered up but it was only to find out -
Your lion-like roars turned to Microsoft words,
I was in my own word - she was in hers,
No, I'm not modest and dishonesty's a problem for my nerves,
Approach the point of no return? We def on the verge,
Better yet the brink, and to think, our past you rubbed away -
Washed down the metaphorical sink,
And now all sounds of trouble power point to YOU,
My mind is now tainted, as you are in my point of view,
I'd hate to break the glue we used to make the news,
But i have to go away from you - Later boo..
Dec 15, 2023
Dec 15, 2023 at 2:37 PM UTC
Two halves make a whole
Two hearts join to become one soul
Two eyes that see one truth
We see different skies but take comfort in the same moon
We promised to never leave the other alone, that the love would not be gone too soon
Rejoicing in the moments from heaven,
Comforting each other when hell breaks loose.
Together through each others mountains and rivers.
Forbidden lust, forbidden love
Two souls that are forced apart
Two that yearn the others heart
Accepting each others flaws
One boy that’s far away from home,
One girl that’s questioning her own
But half a heart is better than none cause it can always be completed by the chosen one, But half a heart is like half a sun
Would it still be as bright as the full one?
Would the love be the same knowing that the other is not as strong
Why must these two hearts fight what’s in their souls
This burning desire
This passion they hold
Why must they put the flame out and become cold
Why waste away the hearts of others when they know the real future is with each other
Why not combine their hearts to become whole, to become one soul.
But having half of anything is like having half of nothing at all
It’s settling for half the love
Yet it could be more
Having half of love must be impossible, must be wrong
-The world is only existent because of wholes
One half cannot love for both
One half cannot fathom growth.
So why not have two halves of a heart
Two broken souls
Let the shattered remains of the other halves be the glue that makes these two people’s love whole
Because why face the world as half a person
When facing it as a whole is already near to the impossible
Two halves of a heart make a whole
Two hearts join to become one soul
But these two halves will never join
These two people will face the world alone- together, but lonely, like two sides of a coin
Not knowing the existence of humanity is dependent on whether they choose to love each other or choose to let it go.
The existence of humanity is dependent on all our lost souls.
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 4:27 AM UTC
Well.. if you must know!
our next door neighbour Mrs. Blue,
she and her husband are like rubber and glue,
So what does she do behind his **** back,
shhh..she dates her oompa loompa butler instead
Oh? tell me more Mrs. Snotnose!
Everyone knows I don't like to gossip!
I am not making this **** up right!
there's a rumour going on about that sneaky Mrs. White
(whisper)..She took some fat off her ****
to hide that ugly mole of a nut!
(giggle) Bejesus!, really?
Of course Mrs. Dullardmost!
Wait till you hear about Mrs. Brown,
she wore a fake necklace to the charity event at Hotel Crown!
but not everyone is elegant and classy like me,
the sweet natured that I am, you know I let people be
Oh Mrs. Snotnose, you are the epitomy of noesis!
*(I would have been on my way,
had it not been for all your delighting prey)*
how is dear Mrs. Red doing after that,
you know, that.. incident in her flat?
Oh dear, who doesn't know about that flat incident!
but you know I dont like to pry!
you couldn't take it out of me even if you would try!
I couldn'tell you what I saw through her window,
but um, well, if you really must know!
Jul 17, 2012
Jul 17, 2012 at 2:53 AM UTC
You can pretend
That the black gloss
On my lashes
Will glue my eyes shut-
Make me blind to truth;
To ‘true knowledge.’
Go ahead.
Tell yourself
That my red-painted lips
Only spout nonsense.
It will only make it sweeter
When my wing-lined eyes
Give you whiplash
as I walk past you
To get my degree;
My award;
My paycheck.
Maybe if you’re ‘nice’
I’ll buy you an ice pack.
Apr 1, 2018
Apr 1, 2018 at 5:53 PM UTC
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is not a poem. This is about a poem.
Poems require words. This poem does not require words.
This poem requires memories' muscles.
This poem requires what is called colloquially love.
Learn that what we share here is not poetry.
Your poetic senses that produce the words that mark you present
are but surgical tools to extract, release the whole and the parts of you that help shape that single sense borning in your chest that defines you at any particular moment.
Quæ est mater Laureat.
She is the Mother Laureate.
She is the boundary you must learn to cross to be more than a re-arranger of letters and alphabets, but a translator of the human essence and fill our veins with the a sense of awe and wonder felt when we read each other and think aloud,
"yes, exactly, that was and is precisely what I was feeling."
She is the glue that keeps us sticking here, sticking together, each of us sticking to it.
You do not know her?
No worries, she will find you when you least expect it, perhaps
when you need it.
This is not a poem. This is a human who's a poem.
Understand the difference and then you may begin a journey
that has no destination other than weaving the connective tissue that makes us anticipating excited when we log on.
Happy Birthday Mother Poet Laureate!
I do not think I can write a better not poem for you.
Forgive me then, if going toward, I repost this every
October 24th as long as the chemical composition of
blood, God, spirit, logos or reason runs free within,
exiting as words encased in tears that formulate into
human poetry.
nattyman
P.S.There are 800 poems here with Sally in the title, and least 700 are about Sally B. If you like, please feel to free to add yours, old or new.
Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 12:42 PM UTC
#STICK’EM UP with LIQUID NAILS
DANGER ! EXTREMELY FLAMMABLE
See Other Caution on Back Panel:
I’m hot for you Cowgirl – you’re so flammable my glue-gun starts to melt; my screwdriver starts twisting when you loosen that low-slung belt. You make me feel like laying re-bar in a freshly-poured foundation. Shoot me up with that caulk gun baby – I need you like salvation. Ten and one-half fluid ounces – pull off your top, pop a love-cap in me. Fingerin’ your trigger while the job is gettin’ bigger so take me for a ride to the hardware store, honey, cause I’m seeing red and feeling white on your golden background’s sheer delight. Hammer me a heart-full, spike me on a cross of blonde, I’m hanging ten, surfing the tube of your magic wand. I’ve been in love ever since I first waterproofed my seamy undersides with you… stand over me in those red, red boots, you Liquid Nails Girl – and from your pure white Stetson let righteousness unfurl. You won the shoot-out long before you even drew, my dear. Lost hope of the Wild West, Final Frontal Feminine Frontier – there’s only one side of you… your GOOD side. Just one look and your fearless gaze silences the foes, my blooming prairie rose.
YEE – HAW ! Be my angel, be my dream, my valentine rodeo queen, be my bodyguard, my therapist, long & tall & hard & wet – be my Liquid Nails Girl forever and I’ll ride right into your sunset…
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 9:28 PM UTC
Thinking about pizza as I'm here
it's warm with the ovens going
the order has been placed
i sit and wait
and wait
and wait
no time erased, only 1 minute elapsed
I feel like I'm swimming laps
in a tomato sauce pool
with black olives for floaties
the sauce is well past my knees
so hungry
and desperate
just to get a slice
of this great American pizza pie
it makes my heart swell
my eyes not dry
i'm gonna get eat pizza until i die
and if there comes a day
when they say no more pizza no way
your stomach can't handle it
your intestines will flare
i'll say i don't care
pull the trigger in my underwear
crime scene investigates
saw it on the news
a man covered in pizza
and bottles of *****
they couldn't get in the door was unlocked
a wall full of pizza boxes had the entry fully blocked
but deeper inside was a man no one knew
cheese oozing under the doorway cracks like glue
i'm still here waiting for pizza
no more imaginary trap
i look at my watch
the tenth minute elapsed
the lifeguard gets out
he's done with his swim
his whistle blows
everybody back in
the pizza is ready
time to dive in
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 3:38 PM UTC