"hazards" poems
Oh how I hate
this time of year,
with the stupid songs
and holiday cheer...
Annoying bell ringers
outside the store,
and the tacky wreaths
hanging on the door.
Cardboard calendars
filled with waxy treats,
ice and snow making
death traps of streets.
Frazzled parents
spending more then they should
on entitled kids
who are far from good.
Fake smiles & wishes
in the "spirit" of it all,
the empty shelves-
the crowds at the mall.
The hour long line
to see Santa the phony
who falsely promises
an x-box or a pony.
Having to gather
with family who annoy,
gifting another cheap
Chinese-made toy.
Fire hazards
strung with tinsel and lights,
tensions leading
to fun Christmas fights!
Secret Santas-
holiday parties for work-
ugly sweaters
making you look like a ****
The stress of having
an enormous list
and a tiny budget
just makes me ******
No, nothing seems jolly
or merry or bright...
Oh how I can't wait
till post-Christmas night!
Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 9:24 PM UTC
People say I haven't played all of my cards yet
But actually i ran out of decks
They tell me to empty my sleeves from all of the tricks
But the only thing I've got are these lyrics
I bought a gun to **** the person who hurts me the most
But then i realized that will end up shooting myself
i f*cked up a lot and I've done the worst
I need to get my **** straight and my brains of the shelf
I've been a selfish and an egoistic *******
Went on the fast lane and switched of them hazards
'Cause everyone around me is moving to fast
While I'm still in my place looking at my past
My life ain't a waste no it ain't a mistake
That's your life c*nt you ain't got what it takes
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 3:22 PM UTC
Fireflies keep me awake,
deep nights unfold
with countless lights,
I wonder, and wonder,
O' fireflies with flickering lights,
have you found your knights,
is the night warm enough
for your lights to work the magic
to catch the perfect mates?
Global warming, so many hazards
suppose the nights are not warm enough
for the chemicals to work
and fireflies did not get their lights,
will that mean the death
no mating and
the end of fireflies?
I sit awake, night grows deep
staring out at the waning moon,
the garden wears a girdle,
a fairy girdle of winking lights,
the fireflies go high and low
I hope, just hope
this summer is rich in romance
for the fireflies to find love.
Summer without them
would be loveless warmth,
for He and I join our sights
weaving our love story
watching the fireflies
love each other
with soft, flickering lights.
Every summer a blessing,
a return to paradise,
fireflies and romance
He and I
new wings to love
A toast to Life!
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 1:58 AM UTC
Call it a good marriage -
For no one ever questioned
Her warmth, his masculinity,
Their interlocking views;
Except one stray graphologist
Who frowned in speculation
At her h's and her s's,
His p's and w's.
Though few would still subscribe
To the monogamic axiom
That strife below the hip-bones
Need not estrange the heart,
Call it a good marriage:
More drew those two together,
Despite a lack of children,
Than pulled them apart.
Call it a good marriage:
They never fought in public,
They acted circumspectly
And faced the world with pride;
Thus the hazards of their love-bed
Were none of our ****** business -
Till as jurymen we sat on
Two deaths by suicide.
6.9k
Tonight watching the waves
break over Dead Woman's
Shoals quite a ways away
through the windows
of the Riverview
where I once thought the bar
was the bottom of a boat
scarred deep from the drink
on the rocks and sand bars
until I realized it was a coffin
shellacked black
as the hazards of marriage
between a waterman
and a lonely woman
black as the soft leather
of the stool climbed
and kicked away
black as the water
the night
you found her there
still swinging
from the rope
of the nets
she repaired
for her man
while he was away
chasing the catch
deep in the darkness
of the black waves.
Apr 10, 2017
Apr 10, 2017 at 11:45 PM UTC
writing songs sans artifice,
that grow better different,
different better,
the lyrics of a man growing older,
insides out, featuring his slips, all showing,
eyes squinting from hard lifestyle experience,
taking on wearied shades of beige yellowing,
a tanned blackness, time edits them, so now,
they sound the same but holier,
from the hazing of hazards
one builds for and by himself,
drilling & extracting the spit-shine of
all that all is fine,
but liquor & cat's paw black shoe polish
just can't quite cover 'em up (2),
the stabbing itch each of the every time
one quests and questions
his ego,
always another test…
why would I ever want that?
his fingers create tinkling at rapido pace,
tinkling an arrhythmia of rhymes
previously perviously (1) unseen,
self exploration, that we all realize
is an unforgiving, never ending,
source of melodic crying out loud;
and when the sensual, arrayed pleasures,
begin to bore
holes of no important consequence,
the querys~to~self get even harder
to explicate what they intimate,
who they implicate,
which parts of you,
failed to answer satisfactorily…
why would I want want that
forever?
Aug 2, 2025
Aug 2, 2025 at 2:11 PM UTC
<>
you pout and defer, dancing backwards,
claiming, blue is now blackened
from underuse, incapable and incapacitating revival
*saying eyes cannot see, distinctly, neither near or far,
the tremble of love, forgot & distantly absent,
but I know, a heart’s sensory muscles never die,
though weaken they might, underused, un-exercised
denying that inspiration
no longer resides with in thy sensitivities,
has fled, undercover of smoking forest fires
all the diurnal hazards that invade, occupying
my internal spaces once filled by poems
you conceived, birthed, in a pleasured haze,
came so fast, you bare recall agony accompanied,
but not the ecstasy of the end resultant!*
***you know it’s you of whom I write, but,
a note not shaming names, but messages
countless private messages have I sent
begging, beseeching, give me your gifts***
once more, you owe me not, though I
oft irritate with my deafening pleas,
yet only denials continue, my pleas ding
but dent not, the tired fear of your exposition
so speak to you plain,
feed my soul selfish
like in years gone past,
there are holes in mine
that require your elixir,
creamy softness that moistens
my face with tears of your words
originating, astound, enfold**
not later, not soon, not excusals,
write for me NOW, WRITE FOR YOURSELF,
but leave me not forsaken and thirst un-slackened,**
Answer! To whom do you owe your poems?
Jun 11, 2023
Jun 11, 2023 at 11:30 AM UTC
The forest of legs swayed in the moving shadows beneath the chatter over head, each threatening to block our path and crush our attempt to get to the first fallen crisps of the party season, which as yet laid undisturbed.
We weaved and advanced as fast as their legs allowed, eager to scavenge the waiting bounty before they were trampled underfoot by the oblivious adults who were intent on a seasonal ritual of their own that went on high over our heads.
We emerged unscathed at the edge of the forest and raced across the open parquet to the cover of the drapped, white topped trestle tables catching our breaths and crunching our snatched crisps planning our next move toward the plateau above.
Our scout had reported rich pickings, but when we looked around, seeking signs of our brave advance party, we could find no trace beyond a half eaten volovant and what might have been regurgitated mushroom. We shook our heads in despair at their folly. Every kid knows to stick to crisps and to processed meats, avoiding anything that might contain vegetables. We saw an open French window just beyond the trestles and heard plaintive heaves that had a distinct 6 year old strain.
We checked each other's resolve and saw on each other's faces that we believed our mission was more important than any one stomach. With a maturity that would have surprised our parents, we pushed the plight of our friend to the back of our minds and focused on the task at hand.
We each reached up with practiced stealth, taking only a second to check the food on offer and with a speed bred into us by the curse of older siblings, we each grabbed our prize.
Acknowledging the hazards of the return journey we devoured the meat at hand and with hyena grins savoured our just rewards. While our fallen friend heaved once more, we saluted one another: the season had started better than any of us could have hoped.
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 5:25 PM UTC
15 MPH
caution, the kids are at play
embracing the youth they will
one day lose
just like you have
50 MPH
you get where you're going
but on the highway there are hazards
if you don't watch where you're going
or look through the dark
you'll wind up turned over
rolling
rolling
roll...
70 MPH
you're making time
straight forward shot
but you can not see the scenery
and the music is too upbeat
but speed along, sweetie, speed along.
100 MPH
only on the track are you really safe
you're passing strangers
you're losing control
but you can't slam the breaks
you can never stop
280 MPH—
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 6:15 PM UTC
*She got star dust sprinkled evenly
Within the shorelines of her ravishing eyes
And stardust, pristine naïve look benignly
Creasing her soft supple aristocratic face no need to accessorize
Her posture upright and poised
Elegance, charm and grace effortlessly effused
By her, emotional hazards posed
By a presence so spell-binding, one will be amused
At the hypnotic effect experienced by
All and sundry
Though she turns a blind eye
A scathingly sultry
look suddenly evident on her sweet face turned sour
She undoubtedly is a toxic flower.*
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 9:37 AM UTC
Bamboo shoots grow all two quickly only to diverge two soon.
Resilience comes not easily but is learned, whether rooted in
Earth, rock, sand we have learned to grow through our fears.
Are the hazards of growth greater than the ease of departure?
Keep this in mind, for I do two.
Us. That is something I will fight for,
Planted shallow are the roots, sanguinely sowing steadier
-AM
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 3:05 AM UTC
I collapsed the seats of my Rav4
You watched my *** the whole time
And saw an opportunity
As I bent over between the front seats
One, two, then three fingers
While fumbling to turn off the hazards
Biting a seat to keep quiet
Accidentally turned the music back on
"Stay In My Memory" by Bim
The song from Him
**** him, I'll **** you instead
The hazards were off
The music still on
Your fingers making my body quake
From the inside
Twice
Strong enough to throw me around
Like I was someone cuter and smaller
And put me on my back
With a hand around my throat
Kissing at me like a dog
Making me submit like a *****
Three, four, five
"On your knees"
And you threw me there, too
Six
Around we spun
Getting rug burn
Lost count of the quakes
They started to blend
With the aftershocks
"Are marks okay?"
And then you left one
A hickey on a weeknight
And a Monday, no less
Next time, we need a bed
Rug burn is a *****
Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 11:53 AM UTC
The cyclist on his bike, fueled by sweat of curiosity,
Wondered
Wondered why it was that he could not fly
He thought therefore he became and on that bike of gold
He soared, the heavens a freeway for the blind
Finally seeing :
Earth is merely an elephant graveyard for the angels
The knowledge was a toxic pinball, corroding his insides as dust
He felt despair creeping like smog
(knowledge spoils)
Without thought or command his flesh imploded
Snapping like a boomerang at the end, the beginning
Of the universe.
And then he was a fiery star,
His bike of human mold cast down
(and sweetens)
Without restrictive ears he could comprehend
The slow mellotones of his fellow Fliers, Travellers, Stars
They hummed a warning to the man who was not
Of the hazards of thought
And the universe was silent again.
Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 4:21 PM UTC
Little ones they run, forever young,
Avoiding the pain while strung
Upon their good times with glib tongues.
Confide, Relied, And Died.
Slip, Slide, Rip, Glide.
Never could they see my bleeding soul
That dripped the color charcoal,
Yet for me, there was no extol.
The light shone through those eyes
And what it does to me defies
All life has shown me it implies.
Confide, Relied, And Died.
Slip, Slide, Rip, Glide.
I fight the demon with these words
To ensure the avoidance of hazards
Of the knife, in hope of being lovebirds.
Sighed, Relied, And Guided.
Pried, Tried, Beside Her, I Flied.
Jul 2, 2011
Jul 2, 2011 at 8:30 AM UTC
You wait on the smooth and shiny floor
of the arrival area with mixed feelings,
you're a groom expecting his bride
to be led to him slowly and unscathed
on the sliding plastic pieces of carousel.
You think about how relieved you are
for making it out of the plane,
how you managed to mumble
an indistinct farewell to
the pretty flight attendants
that filled your in-flight fantasies.
Then you also think about
the last time you came through this airport
and your luggage did not arrive;
how the uncountable footsteps
and phone calls yielded nothing.
That's when little beads of sweat
begin to flock on your brow.
The first few luggage are discharged
through the small opening in the wall,
arriving with subdued fanfare on the carousel.
An all black Samsonite cruises by,
followed closely by a blue Nike sports bag
that puffs out its chest as if in a military parade.
Then a green and white plaid bag drifts by
and you wonder if the owner is from Ghana
or perhaps a proud Nigerian.
The plastic draped Travelpro catches your eye,
half torn to shreds - a good reminder
of the hazards of cargo handling.
Four minutes go by
and you've become a detective
swiftly and skilfully scanning the bags
as they drive by in their solemn procession.
Then you spot that red and black duffel bag
wearing your Mum's purple ribbon
and your eyes instantly light up.
Your cheeks push up in delight
and your lips become glued
in a perpetual clown smile.
As it moves close and you pick it up,
you notice the early rays of light
that have begun to filter in
through the concrete slits in the wall.
Suddenly you realize:
what a great day it is!
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 8:11 AM UTC
I still remember her pinay almond eyes and peanut butter smile
even though she was a cracked nut.
I still remember chewing on her whiskey-sponged lips
her Koala cheeks and the Melbourne burn of her voice.
I still remember her throwing fits and things at me
we’ll chalk that up as the hazards of dating a Dominican woman.
I still remember her Grand Canyonized Salma Hayek thighs
as fat and meaty as her spicy Mexican tortas.
I still remember the coca leaf nature of her walk
and the precise coffee of her eyes that kept me up all night.
I still remember her catracha scent when escaping her man
just to lay the blue frosting of her clandestine mouth on mine.
I still remember her swiftly poetic like a Chico Barque song
the Brazilian beauty who netted in my heart a Pelé-size goal.
I still remember them.
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 1:15 PM UTC
you're my lens refraction, my solar flare
my beautiful occupation with long dark hair
because I've got you under my skin, deep
in my heart, you occupy my ventricles
even as we're apart
your forehead to mine we have been,
sharing an energy more palpable
than reality itself
nothing
nobody
can take that from us
Jun 26, 2012
Jun 26, 2012 at 1:32 AM UTC
Oh darling I'm in love
Oh darling I'm in love with you
Oh darling the way you smile
Oh darling your smile sets everything a glow
Oh darling my heart to you
Oh darling fully yours to crush
Oh darling you know nothing
Oh darling what I feel for her
But oh darling I do feel
Oh darling the love between us
But oh darling you don't know
Oh darling you just don't know what stands between
Oh darling I do hope
Oh darling I do hope you won't leave me
But oh darling you do hate
Oh darling you do hate those like me
Oh darling to you those girls are ****
Oh darling they are objects of desire
But oh darling they aren't people
And oh darling i'm just like them
And oh darling to you those boys are hazards
Oh darling those boys are wrenches in God's great machine
But oh darling those boys are my brothers
And oh darling I'm just like them
Oh my dear darling we're going to have to let each other go
Oh darling I'm going to have to let you go
Feb 13, 2020
Feb 13, 2020 at 5:59 PM UTC
a Pulitzer Prize winner
tells us in an interview
in TIME magazine
that a necessary part
of our future energy
must be nuclear
no word
about the hazards of nuclear waste
the advantages of alternative sustainable
and renewable sources of energy
or about reducing energy consumption
very strange
Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 11:20 AM UTC
Sea life
Glamorous,glittering
Adventourous indeed
But not only
Lot of hazards are there
Alongwith the greatest
What's that?
Greatest enemy of us
It's none but loneliness
Cruel truth of life
Still seafarers have to survive-Written on 06.09.2012,Thursday
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 3:10 AM UTC
It's when your stomach
hurts
and you dont remember why you were sad and
nothing is really super important
except yourself
and you just laugh because you can and the sky is so pretty
and you can feel sunshine's essence exuding from the holes in your skin
and your bones are filled with electricity
but it's rubber
and you can do anything
ANYTHING
anything because you're you and nobody else can be you
and the world is there to look at, so full of pretty things
and it doesn't matter if there's somebody or nobody or everybody by your side
because it's just that perfect moment when the love in you body is a droplet
it hits the ground and wrenches itself into shapes
patterns that coalesce
you are enraptured, the sight is burning
into your retinas the perfectional bliss that is
being
the will'o'the'wisp that is your soul entangles with the white light and branches
the creature that is imagination and folly
folly with soft ears and kawaii smirks
*****
patches of grass
the birds are landing in your branches now
congregational hazards
social anxiety
disillusioned, giving in
but you don't mind the flocking free-loaders
YOU'RE A STAR
stellar beings never slow down
for a moment
unless they are enjoying the view
witness the retching as
spectrum slideshow
the colors spill out, tumbling
across the sidewalk
out of her veins
she is god
we are free
be happy
lift your arms
be happy
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 9:45 PM UTC
Hi.
My name's Blair and
I'll be your instructor tonight.
Defensive driving with a class full of
Deviants.
Even the instructor had
Five Tickets
His first year and a half in San Antonio.
But, hey! We get an insurance discount.
Sometimes people get to the front
And they're not sure if
They're supposed to have a book.
What book?
You still have time before class--
Get those donuts!
Do I have the right book?
Everybody needs a pen--
If you have a fairy pen, that won't do.
Today we're going to learn about driving techniques...
Don't worry.
No matter how far off track I get,
We still get done early.
What's the real policy on pecans?
I was wondering
If you could cut the jet noise
Between, oh...about 5.30, sixish?
Split-second decisions
Spot the hazards
You're driving along 1604
And the speed limit changes to
Fifty
Overnight.
Where were the warning signs?
Is this the book?
How hard is it to drive your car if you're not in the driver's seat?
Did anybody get the donuts?
Where's the pizza he was talking about?
Why isn't he in the driver's seat?
Why am I?
Out of hundreds of architects,
Why did Newsweek ask
A nearby park resident?
Your jury isn't attorneys.
No, it's people.
Your punishment isn't
The Red Square.
No, it's--
CUT THE JETS!
WHAT BOOK IS HE TALKING ABOUT?
I WANTED PEPPERONI.
List common signs of an impaired driver.
First, he's not in the driver's seat...
Sometimes people get to the front...
Of donuts and pizza
And they're not sure
Which one should I choose?
If they're supposed to have a book.
No matter how far off track I get,
There isn't a policy for pecans.
We still get done early.
You can't stop the jets from flying.
The jury isn't attorneys.
Drive within the speed limits and
The jury is people.
Pay attention to your driving.
I found the book!
All right--class is over;
I'll see you on Thursday.
I thought we were going to have pizza.
I'll bring donuts...next time.
I was wondering...
How hard is it to steer
Your car if
You're
Not in the driver's seat...?
~Christa Elise Cannon.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 7:51 PM UTC
*
HAIKU 1
All that comes to net
are fish; either golden or silver color;
Fishermen are rich at heart!
*
_____________________________________
*
HAIKU 2
Action speaks louder than words;
Be practical; stop wasting your precious time
Life is full of hazards!
_____________________________________
HAIKU 3
You are naturally beautiful; cheerful,
a sight for my eyes to hold ;
Will you allow kissing!
_____________________________________
HAIKU 4
While on visit to temples,
I imagine you as my own Goddess:
I become your only follower!
_____________________________________
HAIKU 5
Few ***** drinks before dinner;
But sometimes, I overdo it at weekends!
A Hangover next day morning.
_____________________________________
*
**
BY
Williamsji Maveli
[email protected]
**
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 3:10 AM UTC
I'm glad I'll drive your next girl insane
With my phantom kisses that
May or may not have left stains on your brain.
Because you see, as perfect as she will be,
I **** red lipstick and trilbies and kohl
And it's rare in a woman to be able to watch Top Gear
Without thinking of safety hazards, and seatbelts.
I hope she knows that however loose she wears her hair,
She'll never be as wild as me.
And as cool as she sounds,
I have a bite like a kiwi,
And I always leave an after taste that isn't strawberry and sugar.
So yeah, she's suave and calm and collected, and that is **** fine,
I'll give her that.
But I'm sarcastic.
And I call you out when you become too boring,
Like for instance,
Not making me mad at you at least once a day
For making me think about things that I would like to just blitz over
As I do with many other things
Like the people who loved us.
Because all we needed was each other.
And although she pouts,
I smirk.
She has big eyes, but mine are of lynxes.
I'm your own personal minx.
And she knows I'll always be wrapped around your neck.
And however close she gets to you
I'm always right beside you, inside you
Every breath she takes,
Every mistake in love you make.
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 7:33 PM UTC
At the moment, I am fine
I am part of a rich family
But more importantly, a loving family
I have a decent job
And a stable career
Most of all
I have a few close friends
Whom I can count on, anytime
So, you can say
That my life is pretty much sorted
Except, of course, for a bit of work stress
Which is one of the occupational hazards
Of being a recruiter
So, is there anything missing?
Surprisingly, the answer is yes
Romance
What wouldn't I give
To fall in love?
My heart yearns for that chance
To meet a special someone
Who has the potential
To change my life
In ways that I would least expect
It can be anyone
A friend
A colleague
Someone in my poetry circle
Or for that matter, comedy circle
A friend of a relative
A friend of a friend
Or even a total stranger
Of course, the last option is rather unlikely
Anyway, the point is
I would love the chance
To share my thoughts and feelings
My beliefs and ideas
My darkest secrets
And most importantly
My love and affection
With that special woman
Of course, only if she is okay with it
Because, true love works both ways
Well, it's not like I haven't fallen in love before
In fact, it has happened to me twice
But on both occasions
My love wasn't reciprocated
Therefore, what wouldn't I give
To fall in love once more?
I am keeping my fingers crossed
That it will turn out to be a case of "third time lucky"
Assuming, of course, that it happens in the first place
Oct 12, 2022
Oct 12, 2022 at 1:13 PM UTC