"hambone" poems - Hello Poetry

For the days when your ego slaps itself as if it’s playing hambone, remember: there’s a name for the smell of rain on pavement. And every photograph is like Stockholm Syndrome, where subjects fall in love with their captors. You are no victim. That’s why I still don’t know whether you’re photogenic. All I ask is that you keep photographing my self-portraits, so that I may love you through the way I view myself. Because my ego is more like that potato clock from the science fair: surprisingly electric, yet full of holes. My skin is pierced with nails, but I am no Christ. It’s just my job to keep time. That’s why first place goes to the skateboarding rat. The judges don’t like me because I don’t believe in gimmicks. But when you look at me--alligator clips and all-- your eyes become blue ribbons, letting me know that I have won and you intend to claim your prize. “Let’s take a photo,” I say. You say no, that taking pictures will make us like everyone else. I ask why it matters if we know we’re not. You look down at the newspaper. In my mind, I say your name. And when you look up from the politics section, I snap a photo for good measure. This plan seems completely doable until I realize I’ve never called you by your name. You call me by mine, and attach it to sayings like “No one will ever bring half a smile to my face like you do” or “Hi” or “How are you?” or “I love you.” Is this because there’s only me or because there’ve been others besides me? If I were to succeed in capturing you, I imagine you’d have red eyes in the photo. Red ribbons to let me know I’ll never top second place, that there are other girls you’ve been inside of, but you are my only. No contest. And yet you ask if I’ve awarded any other blue ribbons. You don’t believe me when I say, “No.” I know you asked as a way to boost your ego, but for the days when your ego slaps itself as if it’s playing hambone, remember: there’s a name for the smell of rain on pavement, and that your wish to feel special should never be at my expense.

0

Aug 5, 2012

Aug 5, 2012 at 2:06 PM UTC

lauren-yates

Petrichor

For the days when your ego slaps itself as if it’s playing hambone, remember: there’s a name for the smell of rain on pavement. And every photograph is like Stockholm Syndrome, where subjects fall in love with their captors. You are no victim. That’s why I still don’t know whether you’re photogenic. All I ask is that you keep photographing my self-portraits, so that I may love you through the way I view myself. Because my ego is more like that potato clock from the science fair: surprisingly electric, yet full of holes. My skin is pierced with nails, but I am no Christ. It’s just my job to keep time. That’s why first place goes to the skateboarding rat. The judges don’t like me because I don’t believe in gimmicks. But when you look at me--alligator clips and all-- your eyes become blue ribbons, letting me know that I have won and you intend to claim your prize. “Let’s take a photo,” I say. You say no, that taking pictures will make us like everyone else. I ask why it matters if we know we’re not. You look down at the newspaper. In my mind, I say your name. And when you look up from the politics section, I snap a photo for good measure. This plan seems completely doable until I realize I’ve never called you by your name. You call me by mine, and attach it to sayings like “No one will ever bring half a smile to my face like you do” or “Hi” or “How are you?” or “I love you.” Is this because there’s only me or because there’ve been others besides me? If I were to succeed in capturing you, I imagine you’d have red eyes in the photo. Red ribbons to let me know I’ll never top second place, that there are other girls you’ve been inside of, but you are my only. No contest. And yet you ask if I’ve awarded any other blue ribbons. You don’t believe me when I say, “No.” I know you asked as a way to boost your ego, but for the days when your ego slaps itself as if it’s playing hambone, remember: there’s a name for the smell of rain on pavement, and that your wish to feel special should never be at my expense.

39

Hambone, slam bone Kick them in the nuts. Smack them, sack them No ifs ands or buts. Tap them, zap them Punch them in the snouts Jounce them, bounce them Throw the ******** out. Some of what we’re suffering Has gone on for a century. Some of it is politics Most of it’s chicanery. Some of it is current stuff Aided by the internet And some of it is old news We just haven’t heard it yet. Hambone, slam bone Kick them in the nuts. Smack them, sack them No ifs ands or buts. Sic them, nick them Stick them with the bill. Beat them, cheat them Set up for the **** It’s a game of who screws who And who does not get caught. It has to do with bribery And which guy can be bought. They set it up so no one wins Unless they play the game And when the public catches wise They change some of the names. Tap them, zap them Punch them in the snouts Jounce them, bounce them Throw the ******** out. Snip them, whip them Treat them all like dogs. Crunch them, punch them Throw them to the hogs. They depend on all of us To be lazy to the bone And when it comes to statesmanship To leave them all alone And not make them live up to What they were elected for. The blame is on our backs again If we choose to ignore. Hambone, slam bone Kick them in the nuts. Smack them, sack them No ifs ands or buts. Tap them, zap them Punch them in the snouts Jounce them, bounce them Throw the ******** out.

0

Dec 7, 2015

Dec 7, 2015 at 12:04 AM UTC

brent-kincaid

ZIS BOOM BAH!

Hambone, slam bone Kick them in the nuts. Smack them, sack them No ifs ands or buts. Tap them, zap them Punch them in the snouts Jounce them, bounce them Throw the ******** out. Some of what we’re suffering Has gone on for a century. Some of it is politics Most of it’s chicanery. Some of it is current stuff Aided by the internet And some of it is old news We just haven’t heard it yet. Hambone, slam bone Kick them in the nuts. Smack them, sack them No ifs ands or buts. Sic them, nick them Stick them with the bill. Beat them, cheat them Set up for the **** It’s a game of who screws who And who does not get caught. It has to do with bribery And which guy can be bought. They set it up so no one wins Unless they play the game And when the public catches wise They change some of the names. Tap them, zap them Punch them in the snouts Jounce them, bounce them Throw the ******** out. Snip them, whip them Treat them all like dogs. Crunch them, punch them Throw them to the hogs. They depend on all of us To be lazy to the bone And when it comes to statesmanship To leave them all alone And not make them live up to What they were elected for. The blame is on our backs again If we choose to ignore. Hambone, slam bone Kick them in the nuts. Smack them, sack them No ifs ands or buts. Tap them, zap them Punch them in the snouts Jounce them, bounce them Throw the ******** out.

56

Rancorous Ole Bullfrog , snoring on a paddy , clear your pipes and carry that voice across the quiet marshland , low country valley .. Start the dandy evening opus with low bass tones , croak a silly song with that golden throat trombone , find a whippoorwill and lay down a duet you 'Old Hambone'!

0

May 7, 2016

May 7, 2016 at 11:02 PM UTC

randolph-l-wilson

Port Lake Serenade ..

Rancorous Ole Bullfrog , snoring on a paddy , clear your pipes and carry that voice across the quiet marshland , low country valley .. Start the dandy evening opus with low bass tones , croak a silly song with that golden throat trombone , find a whippoorwill and lay down a duet you 'Old Hambone'!

1

The life of Robert Guillaume A Butler with distinction A man who turned sophistication into laughter Dinner is served in the Main Dining Room But if you didn’t move you would probably be told to eat before you come Snaps upon snaps being Robert Guillaume Where did that all come from why it was ‘BENSON” the TV Comedy series? The show aired on ABC-TV It lasted for Seven Years from 1979-1986 But besides Benson, Robert Guillaume also did several skits of other television shows such as playing a Homeless Man named “HAMBONE” on “GOOD TIMES” Family Comedy TV Series It aired on CBS Robert Guillaume was gifted in talent gaining proclaim in acting experience A man who lived to be 89 Years Old But it is Heaven establishing a behold Robert Guillaume is his own story ever told He is now free Heaven is his spotlight A musical song in my mine comes to mine “HEAVEN I YOND” I knew Heaven is where I belong Robert Guillaume saw and accomplished Thanks for the elegance in guiding us TV fans within the Mansion Your name having honor in the mention Sleep well Your Acting experience we all can tell You brought inspiration that was swell But you lived your life in an upbeat note We don’t even have to cast a vote But part of you was no joke Your life in which you never gave up But Heaven knew it was time for you to be lifted up This is not an end, but inspiration you left us in letting hope begin.

0

Oct 25, 2017

Oct 25, 2017 at 10:33 AM UTC

preservationman

THE GUEST HAS ARRIVED MEMORIAL OF ROBERT GUILLAUME

The life of Robert Guillaume A Butler with distinction A man who turned sophistication into laughter Dinner is served in the Main Dining Room But if you didn’t move you would probably be told to eat before you come Snaps upon snaps being Robert Guillaume Where did that all come from why it was ‘BENSON” the TV Comedy series? The show aired on ABC-TV It lasted for Seven Years from 1979-1986 But besides Benson, Robert Guillaume also did several skits of other television shows such as playing a Homeless Man named “HAMBONE” on “GOOD TIMES” Family Comedy TV Series It aired on CBS Robert Guillaume was gifted in talent gaining proclaim in acting experience A man who lived to be 89 Years Old But it is Heaven establishing a behold Robert Guillaume is his own story ever told He is now free Heaven is his spotlight A musical song in my mine comes to mine “HEAVEN I YOND” I knew Heaven is where I belong Robert Guillaume saw and accomplished Thanks for the elegance in guiding us TV fans within the Mansion Your name having honor in the mention Sleep well Your Acting experience we all can tell You brought inspiration that was swell But you lived your life in an upbeat note We don’t even have to cast a vote But part of you was no joke Your life in which you never gave up But Heaven knew it was time for you to be lifted up This is not an end, but inspiration you left us in letting hope begin.

31