"hawked" poems
"Buy a Star!
Own a Star!"
The sales are brisk,
For cross-eyed lovers,
Cross-hearted, lost,
Beneath the spinning constellations
Burning immortal exhalations,
Desiring forever oxytoxic bliss,
Burning ******* and hearts
Yearn longevity of stars....
PT Barnum saw his opportunity:
Sold cotton candy,
Hawked elephants,
Gawked dwarves,
Hid the razors from
Fierce bearded ladies,
Even sold the elephants' dung,
Provender to exotic gardens....
Barnum's packing up
The Pachyderms,
So Hawkers have us
Gazing on the stars....
"Step right up! See the stars!"
Purchase your fire in the sky!
Your lover's name,
Fixed in the firmament
A million years!
At least the cotton candy
And the elephant dung
Served some earthy, earthly good,
Paid dentists' children's college,
Fertilized the family food.
So now go claim a distant star,
A million, billion miles away,
Its light must make its journey
A thousand years or more
To greet your eyes, and yet,
Your lover's sighs predict
A hundred dollars' better spent
Than on a good Chablis,
Cementing mortal love in
Distant stars so permanent,
Visited through telescopic glass
Atop our rented tenements.
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 9:02 PM UTC
you **** me
Your grin aids
Shards from a heart shaped grenade
Hit me hard
On a green day
I envied you
I invited you to life
Without an end
And you turned down
I turned
Down
You spurned
Would've thought I scorned
The way you burned
Me
Hell hath no fury
Compared to thee
Impaired vision
But I dont need a pair to see
Your vanitys' fair
The fairest of them all
Your beauty was a beast
So strong
It could break through
Any ribe cage
And take a heart
I tried to show the world
You were wild
But can handle something fragile
But you just torn apart
****
It hurts to be wrong!
You're an animal
Malicious as the quickness
Every time you pray
I ran away
As fast as legs could sway
You're the cheetah
But I got caught
Because
I'm the victim
You hawked me down
Your clause was
Awful
You thought it was awe-some
Too much awe from
Awkward moments
Like
Your pause
When I said "I love you"
...
You responded later
But to someone else
I have no response
But someone helps
Who would know the Beau had bow
And shot to ****
With a heart shaped arrow
Oct 1, 2010
Oct 1, 2010 at 12:17 AM UTC
Hey dearest Girl friend, you're more than meets the eye.
There's more to you than the world see and only you can feel
You are more than the current moment, may be stuck, but not for too long
You're fierce and engaging
A lioness in her own den, you are predictive and predetermined
A conquer, you have fought so many battles, Zues would be jealous
Going from house to house, you have served!
Moving from office to office, you have worked!
From one business to the other, you have thrived!
From street to street, you have hawked!
You move mountains with determination
Your mere presence sets them on fire
You are a woman first,
A sister
Sometimes you're a wife but above all,
You are a mother.
You are the best work of art God created to multitask
A Russian-roulette any man would **** to be victorious for.
You are a reason for inspiring inclusion.
Happy International Women's Day Queen!
Bellah
Mar 8, 2024
Mar 8, 2024 at 4:46 AM UTC
Sometimes I hate myself,
when i'm lonely
and no one's around.
When I was younger,
Mommy used to call me a ******
Daddy used to call me dense
and then punch me harsh as an addict, addicted
me to pain.
I Used to wrap cords around my neck,
take lines to an addled brain:
crazy with masochistic Peter Rabbits,
tangling up their ears,
in mangled mesh wrapping.
Take sleeping pills till
I couldn't sleep ever again, from all the nightmares I was having.
But Mommy still laughed,
Daddy still hawked.
******* cry.
Don't tell your mother I'm drinking.
So no,
I can only love in one way.
Sep 7, 2012
Sep 7, 2012 at 11:28 PM UTC
I walked or sauntered or dashed or stumbled, no...
staggered! or swaggered, or was it stepped, no...
I jogged or, bolted, no stomped or slid no...
hopped! or was it skipped no hop skipped and jumped...
or sauntered! no i said that one, it was swaggered! no....
I stampeded or dogged or shlepped no bounced or was it...
I stamped or ed or rolled? no strolled! haha yes Strolled! no...
I stalked that was it or was it followed no no it was sojourned
sojourned! sojourn? no it was galumphed or marched, no charged...
aha sauntered! no! ****** it was ambled or slogged, trounced? or tromped, no rambled, yes I rambled on! no no thats not right, I plodded, trod no tread! no strided, thats not even a word, sloped, no...
govereetted, or persnicketied, or skreed, or preened, no no no none of that is right....
I sauntered! no no, swaggered! no was it promenade? prowl. no patrolled, parolled, no no thats way off...
I trekked, trudged, no fudged, no dogged! like george! he dogged it all the time, no I said that one, slogged or sashayed no trooped, no perambulated, or moseyed? or hoofed it? no it was definitely sauntered, no no it wasn't sauntered it was a dawdle, no lurched, or hawked, no stopped,
no no it was definitely movement, thats it! it was a movement! no no no that can't be right I paced, yes i paced back and forth and thought about life for a awhile....
no no that wasn't it either it was really more of a strut, or a saunter, yes saunter! no swaggered! no no
**** you words....
I wandered or was it roamed, no limped, gimped! no...
minced.... or no yes! minced... wait.... no it was a hike, yes I hiked up a mountain with friend of mine, or was it climbed, no no thats not right...
I slandered, no.... pandered! no... I meandered, haha actually no i think it was a peruse, or no a beat! no.... I cut a rug! or actually i think it was more of a stumble no....
ah yes it was walked, I walked about sixty blocks today
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 6:17 PM UTC
rushing mountain stream
grey stones protrude
blackberries hang just above
little splashes cause sparkles
sunshine filters through branches
light dances on the moving promenade
a lonely leaf passes by without fanfare ~
we sit watching
discussing home ownership steps
dropping names of realtors
considering taking the plunge
just over 1050 square feet
spring fed wood and oil heat
tiny cabin off Tree Farm road
future property of Mr. and Mrs.
Samuel Lyman Temple ~
bright blue Steller’s Jay
squawks his arrival
***** a mow-hawked head
and considers us for a moment
three quicks hops and one more call
before he flies off into the foothills
nature gifting us a nod of approval /
Jul 27, 2016
Jul 27, 2016 at 11:16 AM UTC
dusk, goats
stuck in straw
big round bulbs of white light
shines down on the little one
covered in its mother’s birth slime
the squishy “pop” of its arrival from birth canal to asphalt
still loud in my ears.
i am startled by the throw back dress of the goat people:
suspenders holding up pants,
small smashed-on-heads-hats,
shirtless, sweat, tattoos
cigarettes doing the dangle from the, yep,
heavily tooth-lessed owners
all seem to barely notice, this goat
just born
while we look on, some holding up
their kids to look, their feet kicking
above the flimsy wire fence
i move on, disgusted not
by birth, or slime
or even dirt smudged and spitting goat people
but the families, oh so all-American,
at this circus,
this carnival,
this tacky venue hawked
as wholesome,
welcome
an economy boon
educational opportunity
fun ******* outing.
later,
tigers snarl, elephants slow-motion their moves,
the caged ones roar and trumpet behind the tents.
muck, sticky straw, stale oil, greasy lights,
flaked thick paint once red, now brown,
sticks to our skin as
we make our way through
the hot summer crowds
on this circus night.
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 9:57 AM UTC
The Gram sir,
polygonal father firefly
stand in Cibatus ...
thread and thread form light.
In the year 1300
miliérnaga great night,
the Lucibatus provoke a detritment an *****
He fell back to Cibatus
And her delicate body broke into two parts...
In the center was in "A";
Her two columns
Stumble down at the head of Mr. Gram.
He in the compartment,
The pulverized seeds scraped
Galloping ice that undermined the Cibatus
The year in 1200,
Oh syllogism much light!
You coordinate the central hole Cibatus basket;
gramineous navel dim oracle
Coming through the middle,
Dodona River as light.
In the center of barley,
Mr. Gram healed their wounds;
Fecracia corpuscles,
Major ***** Susea ...
that ruled with all his power by blizzards.
"Not Cibatus or broken,
traditional custom was broken by wind
and not by Light gram "
In the dark night of San Corinth,
It fell night where Mr. Gram asleep ...
happy told the fierfly
your damage would not alter its sun.
Toward the end of the day,
He said his greatest roar...
Their wings hawked loose
Cibatus noise pain!
Lat night came,
and invisible, transparent body
wanted spring,
Love this protozoan
Cibatus alone.
Farewell said fierfly in 1300,
when it fell by the protozoan crag ...
Signs metal birds
They said ...; Aaaah ..!
and noise Gram God,
They said! Aaaaah ... Aaah ...!
Nor no hugs or charity,
the rough particle spring circle
flierfly donated the ***** ...
Limestone Road
He loved the feet of ash,
white bodies laughed
and they transmuted his absent body.
Flierfly he opened his eyes...
Cibatus looked at his winged whistling song:
" Fly Fierfly,
stretch your threads;
Mr. Whiskers love Gram ...
buried next to the root of Cibatus "
Farewell Thousand Three Hundred ... !
JOSÉ LUIS CARREÑO TRONCOSO
10 to 11 July 1995.
Apr 4, 2018
Apr 4, 2018 at 5:16 PM UTC
i chaw a trifle
a quid of desparate thoughts
soon hawked on a page
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 4:37 PM UTC
you are the hottest summer day
it is your tie that makes you sweat in May
They say it is too hot in here
But for me it’s moderate
You said you love William Blake
But that’s too hard for me to understand
And you could sing me a serenade
But you could never love me back.
His brows spread like hawked in Sierra
His eyes streams like river
He glows like sun in Arizona
Sorry for my poor metaphor
What if I could write for you
The sweetest poems you’ve ever read
It won’t make any big difference
Sorry for my sad attempt
Now that you have made up your mind
You tell me that I’m unteachable
And I could recite you William Blake
But you could never love me back
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 9:29 AM UTC
Across the thin line twixt denial and panic
Stepped a young man whose Depression was manic.
His heart palpitated, threatening to burst
Right there in line, in which he was first.
‘Sir, can I help you,’ had uttered the girl,
‘Are you one of the specters?’ He’d begun to unfurl.
Awoke he bed-bound in some wretched infirmary,
For minutes he struggled to escape this man-burglary
Which would surely result in a suit from his lawyers,
Upon the nurse’s return he declared he’d destroy her,
At which point he made a regrettable choice,
He hawked and he spat, and even rejoiced
After she’d reeled and dropped his impossibly thick file-
Unbeknownst to him, he’d been there quite a while.
May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 12:35 AM UTC
Ooh...this... just an amazing grace note
recalling how I felt like an ***
and wanna toot 'bout me getting steered
(as a heavy metal kid Rocker)
toward befriending a brass
see gutsy, *****
and MainLine snooty upper class
action button down
(grace fully slick as vaseline), airily glinting
forcibly hawked, laundered, and pawned
by the instrumental
Mister Deangelo O'Donnell, High School
(mud flapping, ornery hearing,
and quid juicing Ska Welch ching)
music teacher oompah crass
tone deaf when aye trumpeted desire
to master the Coronet
analogous to pursing lips
blowing tightly held grass
blade between two abetted,
cinched fastened opposable thumbs,
which tooting a supposed aural aphrodisiac
to attract a zaftig well proportioned lass
(ideally shaped like a miniature Tuba)
with one steel funnel like mouthy mass
that probably explains, how such a gal
could easily emulate
****** pucker earning pass
to illustrious honorable first chair
and blasts gratitude akin
as Gabriel would declare
heavenly expressions conducting
angels thru atmospheric ether
alighting on mortal ushering melody
with rites of harkening
springtime Renaissance Faire
solar rays golden raiment
splays rainbow fragments off
beveled, bellowed, and
bedecked polished flare
audiological sound waves trick
saw toothed reflected
silhouetted orchestral shadows
to dance as conductor's baton gear
musicians horns ensemble
epochal feast to hear.
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 3:12 AM UTC
There was a noise downstairs
Heard it creep into what we read
Whilst in my ears it starts to shout
A sound that slowly sows its seeds
Then in the knees it wins the bout
I hear it growing closer
To the threshold of doors long shut
Before clawing into the room
Through our bodies
And the windows too
Hear it repeatedly speaking of
Mother’s sons born blue
All polluted in utero
Cold water and yellow fog
While others hawked their morals above
Hear holy words said to us
Proverbs two one two three
Do not move our mouths too much
But never mention
That more than holy spirits touch
Hear that change comes
When the North Atlantic
Nears our lungs
But sadness when we only get
To remember him while he was young
Hear it ring out between
What all the emptied pens believe
That parts of us have contravened
When our hearts fester from scene to scene
Betwixt the Romans and the Pharisees
Hear it in words of grace
In the void where your spine should place
When stood between tectonic plates
nor time nor stasis emancipates
The silence of our delegates
Then hear it in atomic air
The souvenirs of yesteryear
That spill and mix into our despair
The thoughts our hammers won’t repair
There is still a noise downstairs
Mar 8, 2019
Mar 8, 2019 at 2:41 PM UTC