"halloweens" poems
you used to come home loudly in the dark but
quietly in the day we’d be together
to compensate
we were only in love on Halloweens
you in those hundred dollar costumes worth two
in material and tiny fingers
**** rats and ER surgeons
to me with a pop-culturally relevant ******* mask
Frankenstein (to the dumb dudes that go to these things)
that chisels me like a jell-o mold
that blurs her infinitely beautiful walking-away
the blooming glances pairing parting lips to talk ********
caking the ***** reeling in our heads
winding round the spindle hooked tight
pulling my hard-hat plastic-green face
to the windmill
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 3:02 AM UTC
Tell me lies.
Such little white lies.
To you,
I may be,
Just another,
One-of-the-boys.
But you should know.
I'm old enough,
To get wise.
Tellin' me lies.
Tellin' me little white lies.
Tell me,
What I see,
In your eyes.
The heart I thought,
Was on fire.
Must've been,
Your own burning desire.
Tellin' me lies.
When you're tellin' me,
Little white lies.
I can hear it,
In your voice,
When you give those,
False alibi's.
I wish I never knew,
You.
And the things,
That you do.
Tellin' me lies.
Tellin' me ***** white lies.
And now,
By your own choice.
You must wear,
Your own disguise.
I wonder how it seems,
For you,
To live,
In your world of,
Never ending Halloweens.
Tellin' me lies.
You're tellin' me lies.
I wonder how you feel.
When all around you,
Love dies.
Hungry eyes,
An' looks that ****
How hard you try,
To get your fill.
Tellin' me lies.
Tellin' me more,
Little white lies.
But it's never,
The way you planned it.
Sometimes,
There are no good,
Good Byes.
Love that is honest an' real,
Is found by so very few.
But how easy it is,
For you to steal,
Love from a fool.
Tellin' me so many lies.
Ain't nothin' new.
Ain't no big surprise.
Only one thing to do.
Say good-bye.
No more lies.
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 9:08 AM UTC
time lapses and fat rats run in packs
spit wads like cannon ***** the classrooms a war zone,
the geeks have the technological advantage screens spitting words of fire
faster then fingers can type them
the jocks ridding high have the big desk
the largest land mass,
and the biggest muscle mass
brawling in tight lipped alley ways among themselves the power struggle is as real as the love club
The corner crew is torn up by their civil war
along with their own wrists, their forces bleed dry before the war has even begun
combat peaks at lunch time,
that special point of the day,
where cheerleaders jeer on skateboarders with glee
and the smokers slip away,
because when the car riders come ,
their cavalry fed in gasoline, you know the swooners will come in swathes so ripe and clean
to beg and plead and please and tease and trip through halloweens
so dont you say school is easy
dont you try to tease
my school yard is a battle feild,
and its a fight i loose with ease
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 9:08 PM UTC
growing up, i lived on the
highways between FL & KY
either in the cab of my dad's truck
or the backseat of my mom's ford.
streetlights became stars, &
the stars became my universe
i saw my first meteor at 3am
on the road back from TN.
Halloweens were spent in the cab
with Bugle's on my fingertips,
cackling like a witch.
Christmas was an adventure,
stuffed into the backseat between
blankets & winter clothes.
breakfast was a McGriddle,
lunch was a bag of chips & soda
from the gas stations & truck stops,
and dinner was my favorite, always
at ******* Barrel, beside the fire place
surrounding by my family & others.
the highway is my home, &
i wouldn't have it any other way.
Oct 29, 2017
Oct 29, 2017 at 1:56 PM UTC
For a long time coming I have known things weren't going to be easy
the genie isn't going to give wishes like it was candy on halloweens night,
every night I'd lay my head on my pillow and cry for about ten minutes
"it'll be easy soon, isn't it?" I'd ask myself convinced myself to go on
like a parrot repeating the same old song, I said "it'll be easy soon",
and come noon of the next day; I realised it had been a routine,
a living pattern of new scene each stained in the same old ways,
the same old days reliving itself in front of my eyes.
A few nights ago, I tried to **** myself and I did not die,
somewhere, something is keeping me alive and tomorrow
I'm going to stop trying, because trying to die was more exhausting
than trying to live. I made a promise a long time ago to keep going on
and that will be the path I am on.
I am choosing to try to be happy for this year
I'd fought my fears and I'm one new day into my life,
and tonight, I will try my best to invent dreams in my head before I sleep
rather than spent the time in a deep cry, because tonight,
as lights go off and my head hits the pillow, I will be thinking happy thoughts.
I love all of you.
I'm going to keep on going, each and every day.
Until old age rips me away from all of you.
Jan 13, 2017
Jan 13, 2017 at 12:27 AM UTC
As the night whistles, he whispered goodnight,
a kiss in the forehead
and a hug so tight
Sleep so calm as his arms wrapped around,
safe and sound
finally, I'm home bound
Few times I've failed, guess this time is different,
he is the one,
he truly is permanent
Valentines, Halloweens and Christmases we shared,
the screams, the fights
and the hateful words we've aired
Kisses and tears, oddly perfect kind of pair,
'Sorry' after 'Sorry'
yet we managed to bear
Our spark , our vibe makes me blush thereafter,
even those senseless thoughts
and genuine laughter
Engagement came, fast forward to wedding,
such a plot
that i have my happy ending.
Nov 1, 2016
Nov 1, 2016 at 11:26 PM UTC
I've moved so many times
But that house stayed constant
All the years of staying late
Thinking it was haunted.
That house was like a home to me
Where I'd sit with dogs in dim light
And dance around the kitchen
Bake cookies and try to take flight.
We walked around the neighbourhood
And ate our weight in doughnuts
Listened to pop songs and sang along to Snow
And tried to get boys to phone us.
The place where we would rescue Peach
And let our piano skills loose
With Juicy Couture jingly bags
And never ending apple juice.
All the teddy bears we won
And sneaking into sister's parties
To curry sauce and French plait fails
Marked my height from when I was thirteen.
The Halloweens full of sweets on the floor
And crying at sad parts in cartoons
With all the 'road friends' drawing near
In my best friend's little box room.
The house is like a museum
A house of memory for me
One thought and I am half my age
With Guinea Pigs and our hopes for babies.
Goodbye old house, Goodbye old friend
This is the end, I know
You're up for sale and then you'll be
Somebody else's home.
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 7:42 PM UTC
Your face broke like glass that night.
I held it together for you,
skin trickling through my fingers.
The sum of all your
hopes, errors, and ever-will-be’s
Birthday cakes, lease signings, Halloweens,
the man who will one day silence the noise.
These moments deserve you, like so many
others not yet ready to cry for you.
Listen and come back
to me. You can’t have
her. We need her.
Come back. Come
back. I won’t let you have her.
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 3:54 AM UTC
halloweens upon us get the sweeties in
put them all in bags let halloween begin
children at the door doing trick or treats
you are at the ready with a bag of sweets.
dressed up in there costumes witches vampires too
looking very scary to try and frighten you
carrying there pumpkins lighting up the night
happy smiling faces a halloween delight.
bringing lots of memories when were children too
and all the trick or treating that we used to do.
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 8:07 AM UTC
I'm playing on the floor
I see myself
I see the toys
I have no regrets and no flaws
I am an innocent
An endless augur
The destroyer of worlds
I call myself
As I make the toys suffer
Suffer like a child suffers
For only a teenager knows
That what came before
Was without inhibitions
A playground of choice
As only the adult recalls
Perhaps with fondness
Without sounding any alarms
The days of purity and acting
The years of guises and comics
The halloweens and
empty promises
May they never come back
Nay,
For in the back of my mind
I am still that same child
The destroyer of worlds
The same wandering soul
A toy that was never
Left unturned
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 5:13 AM UTC
i love you like the polar bear loves the beach
wistfully, between a sigh
and early morning dreams,
scattered between autumn snowflakes
and flowered halloweens
with all the adoration of
a dying bride-to-be,
sowing kisses into letters,
tucking love into the seams.
darling, i love you
but it's not meant to be.
Oct 25, 2017
Oct 25, 2017 at 9:14 AM UTC
They sometimes call me the gray girl.
For most, it's the dye I pollute my ***** dish water hair with but
for few, it's the cold ice water that's replaced the liquid pumping through me.
Sometimes I wear men's golf sweaters in the summer.
The droplets that slide down my back remind me
that even abominable snowmen melt and while
it's mostly sweat, it's partially my inner workings thawing becoming nothing but a pool beneath my wiggling toes.
Deep puddles, never-ending trenches to trudge through,
Shallow puddles, the same ones I used to play in when I was a kid. Splashing and leaping until my lower limbs stay covered in rain water mud and my bangs smell like the outside air.
I didn't seem to melt as easily then.
They sometimes call me the girl frozen in time
Maybe for the '96 edition baseball keds I wear in the fall, mimicking the past, keeping it's stillness locked away in a time capsule along with the same ice princess costume I wore three Halloweens in a row.
Or maybe for the worn out flannel from Pools that always seems to be the first thing I throw on my shivering body when old man winter blows his first frosty kiss
always finding it's way to my cheek.
They sometimes call me rosie
Not the riveter, but always for the hue of reddish pink that accents my nose when spring showers and April flowers grace my passageways and fill my visuals.
It's more than the allergens, it's the intoxication of new life with fresh beginnings that make everything seem smoother than the honey tea dripping down the corner of my mouth.
They sometimes call me all of these things, but I've always been known as the season of dwindle.
Sep 12, 2017
Sep 12, 2017 at 11:19 PM UTC
Halloweens eyes lighting the route to ones heirs
Cherishing this time of celebration
Bonding in spirtual harmony
Oct 28, 2021
Oct 28, 2021 at 12:25 PM UTC