"helluva" poems
No reason to be precious about it,
it's best to just be blunt,
she's got a helluva ****
I could wax poetic, swooning like a
love-drunk boy, but what's the point?
Sharing, expressing, defining the spell
is futile. *** with her is like
dancing with god.
Finally, at fifty, I feel the
vibration of lovesongs.
Not in my ears, deeper than any sense can taste.
Lost for hours in life, in bonding; finally
knowing the only knowledge worth knowing
She teaches by just being.
Responding, absorbing, inspiring,
implanting new sensations and
bringing me out of me.
Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 9:42 PM UTC
feeling kind of fruity
touch your skin up and down
kind of silly funny
breathing waving fanning
panting pajamas on the floor
*** and then talking about pokemon
and programming all at the same time
what a helluva time to keep the tumor
of existence lowkey
scooping blood instead of depression
out of my heart whenever i check
why im feeling so giddy
Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 3:11 PM UTC
I would
Bet my life
*******
Has nothing
On You
©Tina Thompson
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 9:58 PM UTC
I shoud've told the bartender to tie me to the last working pay phone.
But I didn't. I let her introduce herself. Sadie, she said, like The Beatle's song.
I'm hard to forget, so I asked, What's your motto?
She breathed in reverse. She looked at the door. She was past mottos.
It was Josh, right?
Yeah.
Let me tell you something. I'm the bad, **** ***** that's gonna wreck your health.
And she did.
Every weekend for 105 weekends. I opened her up like a paycheck.
I spent her on a big brass bed.
I spent her on glass tile.
I spent her on the kitchen island.
The Japanese table.
The water lily pond.
Her brother Frank or Gary or Marvin---some American classic---kept us
horizontal with white whiskey from his personal still.
Personal still.
And there is a house in New Orleans,
but there's another one in Colorado Springs,
one you should be wary of.
I shoud've told the bartender to tie me to the last working pay phone.
But I didn't. I let him tell me about his dream. My name is Jack, he said, as in Jumpin' Jack Flash.
Like the Rolling Stones' song?
Like the Stones' song, man.
You were in it.
Four white girls shared one mic. Karaoke night.
You were in my dream. Are you listening to me? I'm gonna say it anyways.
I only had one eye, but I could see you. Seen you plain as day.
You were scared of me. As you should be. We were on the coast.
No, I don't know which one. I saw that thought on your forehead.
It was a dream. Anyway, you were holding a pen. A giant pen.
And I asked for your name.
I lifted my drink from the makeshift napkin coaster. Pulled a pen out of my coat pocket.
Straightened out the napkin. I scribbled Nobody. Handed it to him. And aimed myself toward the interstate.
I shoud've told the bartender to tie me to the last working pay phone.
But I didn't. She had one helluva an afro. Her name was Katrina, not like any song, like the hurricane.
My skin tastes a little like coffee, Katrina said.
I like coffee.
You wouldn't like me.
Probably not. But I've been lost in this bar forever. I could change my mind.
No, sweetie. Forever ain't that long. Just ask my ex-husband.
Katrina paid for her drink. Asked me if I'd like the change.
Yeah, I'll take it.
I called my buddy Chris back in Oklahoma, but he didn't answer.
I called my buddy Ben back in Oklahoma, but he didn't answer.
Sam. Sarah. Brooks. Nothing. Silence.
Barkeep (I always wanted to say it), I don't think your phone is working.
It works. You gotta remember kid. You're on Rocky time.
There's an hour, every night,
where you're the only person you know that's awake.
Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 2:48 AM UTC
I'm sorry I treated you like
the groupie I've never had.
The things I said in haste
The anti-promises made
Wipe the stars from your eyes
I was more like a black hole
Imploding your soul
I ****** up your heart
And got your hopes up
I saw your dreams as meant
to be taken advantage of
Little miss broken
Mind if I muse you?
to abuse your beauty
and exploit your insides
for the sake of poetry
I could blame it on
Goddess oppression,
My misogynistic intentions
deep rooted by living vicariously
through an idea of a rockstar
Burnt out before I'm initiated in the 27 club
Black holes still in your personality
I can't just tell you
I was scraping the bottom of the barrel
Trying to keep the void filled
with inspiration
In desperation
We both ended up
occupying insides
caught in a euphoric tide
That oxytocin's a helluva drug
at least for it's half-life
We both came crashing
right/write where I intended
Reincarnated,
by the words I've mended
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 3:32 PM UTC
-Audience!
Prepare for the magic act
*Hypnotically launching attacks
upon the helpless masses*
Won't pull a rabbit from a hat,
Rather false-flaggish gaffs
Practically exposed to radioactive madness
*(Feel the hurt disappear like doves
Gloriously soaring out your ***
Hijack these hijinks
Whilst laughing maniacally
Tornado alley to the trailer-park mentality
I call this a helluva brainstorm,
High-velocity lethality
Compose yourselves
Are your brain-stems intact?
-Okay. Now
*f
o
l
l
o
w
the swing
of
my pendulous
p e n m a n s h i p
Drearily drift into dreamy trance,
While I attempt
to initialize a feat
of mass hypnotization
Enchantingly dip
into deep illusory corridors
of thoughts limitless*
(Pay no attention
to any slippage,
Mental or otherwise
It's already dripping out your ears
& the seat of your pants)
Real ****
no gimmicks!
Abracadabra
Propaganda
Extravaganza
Gaze into my crystal ball
Mouths agape in awe
While I slay and lay waste
indiscriminate to the faceless plague
Come one, come all!
Phantom sorcerer I am, conjuring
unfathomable horrors
To the collective mind
procured through sleight-of-hand
Voila!
Still with us?
Alright, hold your breath
until you finally wake up
And illuminate the bogus
Hocus pocus front
♠ ♥ ♣ ♦
Shuffle the deck,
Reset Earth's debts
In a fabulous show
of m i s d i r e c t i o n
♠ ♥ ♣ ♦
Now, Ladies & Gents!
For my final performance
With this rope,
Suspended from the throat
I am going to bulls-eye myself
In the frontal lobe
Dead-center
In front of all you people
With this
.40 caliber desert eagle!
Graciously donated by our very own NWO
(applause)
This one's sure to be mind-blowing folks.
Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 5:41 AM UTC
Chicago, Chicago, it’s a very big place
Chicago, Chicago, it’s a total disgrace;
Bet your flabby buttocks you'll lose the blues in Chicago,
Chicago, the town where someone sat on my face.
On State Street, that great street, I just want to say
I did things with strangers, both straight and gay;
I had the time, the time of my life;
I met a mobster and slept with his wife
In Chicago, one fine day. Hey! Hey!
Chicago, Chicago, where tragedy struck,
O horror, O horror, what a bit of bad luck;
Bet your flabby buttocks I’ll not go back to Chicago,
Chicago, where my girlfriend got hit by a truck.
On Lake Shore, a fat ***** one fine sunny day
I picked up and we thought we’d go for a lay;
Her husband took a hammer and bashed in her ****
It took a couple of hours to mop up the bits
In Chicago, one fine day. Hey! Hey!
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 7:52 AM UTC
Settle down
I'm sinking in
to this dingy motel tub.
Stain the water
with the paint
from my sardonic, smiling face
now, babe, I got a flower in my hatband and
a sloshing bottle in my white gloved hand.
Do you think we'll still be laughing
in the morning...?
Blinking lights and bleary eyes
in a neon wash for a bloodshot lifetime,
and a swallow
is all I wanna take.
Besides, I'm still holding the bag.
Puddle up
pull the plug
colors circle 'round the drain
Pollute the night
with a laugh
from inside this facepaint bath.
And, babe, I been swirled 'round the world's full glass
and, for a bit, I guess, it was a helluva gas
but, ya know,
nobody makes it in the end...
so where's the joke end or begin?
Reddened nose and ***** jokes.
Life's a vacation, I'm a pig in a poke
and a mouthful
is all I need to take...
We all get left holding the bag.
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 8:49 PM UTC
I may never be a Nolan Ryan fastball pitcher,
But I can play any position the coach asks of me and I’m a helluva hitter.
Try to be a sponge in everything I do,
Resourcefulness, Adaptability and Work Ethic are your conquest clues.
So make every second count young person!!
Wear your heart on your sleeve..express yourself for all to see!!!
And as **Dale Carnegie once said…Be the better person and don’t worry about anyone talking incompetence
Cause “Unjust criticism is often a disguised complement”!
-K.E. Carman
** Dale Carnegie – How to win friends and influence people
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 12:49 PM UTC
At the end of the rainbow
where only gnomes go,
a guru appeared,
a man with a message and
a helluva beard.
'More colour', he said
from his bed full of nails and
the gnomes all complained until
the guru explained,that
only colours could light up the sky,
Oh
why didn't we think of that? that's why
the rainbow is flat and the gnomes
were in agreement that the guru there
was heaven sent to show
just how their rainbow could shine,
you know it's all about the little things
that make each day and each day brings
another guru, another teacher and the trick is
in the learning.
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 5:14 AM UTC
Are things really that bad,
can we really not face another day,
count our lucky days,
be full of thankfullness!?
I mean it's not like
we're landing on
the beaches of Normandy
this morning,
hopping a freight to Auschwitz
to shower,
dressing warm to hunker down
at the Bulge,
gearing up for
a hike in Bataan
or stripping down
to catch some
bright rays at Hiroshima.
You see,
things could be
a helluva lot worse,
let's be grateful for living!
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 4:58 AM UTC
I read eulogies from time to time
to pass the time, I find in some rejected newspaper.
The language is foreign, for I am
alive and in two hundred or so words I am to know,
who this person was and that
they were loved or respected or validated in two
dimensions plus words and a
picture, when not so long ago they were three
dimensions that filled voids in
other peoples lives, striving to make the world
around them a better place,
battled hard in a war, and fell its only victim.
Swallow the bitter pill,
there ain't no better place,
than where you are right
now, with words written
as plain as the pain on
your face, so listen and
I will try to take you to
a better place maybe I
will transport you to
a euphoric utopia but
that will take opiates,
for my words will just
make you dizzy, Gillespie,
get off that computer and
go to bed, and then you
will dream dreams of us
meeting instead, where I
will be humble and you
will be dapper unless you
are a girl then you will
be "a beautiful rendition of the Mona Lisa"
pray what is behind that
smile and how do your
whites stay so pearly and
your hair, so light and curly,
like the clouds over head,
with a background of blue
sky that holds that daystar,
and reflects off the water in
the duck pond and blinds
my eyes and makes the tear
oft fall, salty on my sleeve,
as I hold one up to wipe
a tear, I feel your hanky
brush my eye lash and I blush with unabashed charm,
but if we were manly men
walking under the trees,
along a pathway of asphalt,
walking sticks pressed into palms
of hands, not those topical trees,
along side us grass, dotted with Canada geese,
oh do watch your step dear
boy, or you might grease your
soul, which would be a helluva
a way to let this perfect day
slip away and take us from
this better place.
It matters not who I am with, for when I am with you, whom ever you are,
I am away from here, therefore found in a better place.
©DWE122013
Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 2:19 AM UTC
Madison Avenue
thousand dollar suits, fancy silk tie
slicked back hair, he's a helluva guy
he'll pick your pocket, do what he has to do
to stay on top on Madison Avenue
foreclose your loan, increase your rate
charge you more, if you are late
no don't bend over, he'll give it to you
do what he needs on Madison Avenue
he will lie to his mother, cheat on his wife
whatever it takes, to maintain his life
hold his breath until, his face turns blue
got to have it his way, on Madison Avenue
just how large, does his account need be
when is it enough, to make him see
he's so **** smart, but doesn't have a clue
his life is all about, Madison Avenue
government bailouts, rewards for greed
while jobless workers, walk streets with need
have my doubts, that we thought it through
keeping the hot shots hot, on Madison Avenue
we slap their wrists, say don't do it again
they claim they won't, but behind they grin
they know they can do, just want they want to
nothing seems to change, on Madison Avenue
Gomer LePoet...
Sep 1, 2011
Sep 1, 2011 at 7:00 AM UTC
In my head they are laughing,
they can't even notice I'm dying
I am lost, can't find my way back,
I am down, strength is what I lack
It feels like I'm a driftwood,
Life has taken me back and forth
Dull and useless, I am ignored
Unless someone looks closer for he is bored
I was drowning, no one could see,
I'm slowly fading but they're still laughing
I was calling out for help but I seemed voiceless,
Oh yes I forgot, poor pigeon is worthless
They're singing an unfamiliar song,
Making me feel I don't belong
Reaching out, I was afraid,
For I want joy but they forbade
I cry, I sob, late night thoughts,
You have to be tough, life has finally taught
I made it through helluva life I see,
But nostalgia struck me, no this isn't me
I am lost, can't find my way back,
I'm down; strength is what I lack
In my head they are laughing,
They can't even notice I'm dying
I am invisible, I am voiceless,
Oh yes I forgot poor pigeon is worthless
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 3:21 AM UTC
The psychedelic outlaw had class
He had a kaleidoscope bow-tie
Accentuated with brass
His custom tailor three-piece suit was white
But now no more
For the swirls of patterns and colours
Would send him down in lore
His cowboy hat was paisley
His six-shooters painted day glow
And the guise he wore
Said nothing more
Then, “Hell, I’m ready to go”
For the pearly gates
That some await
Will be dipped in a neon glow
And his favorite band will be playing
It'll be one helluva show.
Apr 12, 2021
Apr 12, 2021 at 1:40 PM UTC
If ennui were pie,
we had a good slice of it
in the wee dark
waiting for the last
homing pigeons to arrive
with the latest PR from Jupiter
and how it's the planetary Hoover,
except on occasions
it misses a flot,
and a helluva lot of dinosaurs are vaporized.
Feb 4, 2011
Feb 4, 2011 at 10:20 PM UTC
I've got ten minutes to get
from the spice bazaar
down to the coffee shop.
I've counted dozens of times
the number of steps
it takes to get there,
smiled hundreds of times
at the shopkeepers,
kids going to school
and tourists shooting snapshots
of my historical homeland.
My load's a bit heavier today,
these steel *****
sewn into this vest
are going to make one helluva mess.
It's going to blow my ***** off,
but what the heck,
who needs them,
I'll have virgins
to play with.
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 10:11 PM UTC
Seeing you and her together would certainly scathe a lot
It is seeing the epitome of everything we're not
But may be better than not seeing you at all
Except in the photographs hanging on my wall
You sent a message (I haven't bothered to read)
The first three words;
"Amanda I need"
No apology for torturing me bad
That made me pretty mad
I've liked always talking to you
Was on a ledge with a helluva view
But I am determined never to jump
I'm not going to hit the ground with a thump
I will not let you control me anymore
Best way to do that is to ignore
I hate the way I am under your magic spell
There's nothing that can save me from this hell
Feb 2, 2024
Feb 2, 2024 at 11:45 AM UTC
On the first day I learned how to spell my name,
‘h’ included,
Daddy knocked on my bedroom door and let himself in—
I was six
when he planted the evil seed inside of me.
It’s been growing ever since.
Mommy told me to go to sleep with the Bible
under my pillow,
dabbing at her swollen face, pink paisley hanky in hand.
Uncomfortable
(the Bible-pillow, that is; after a while I couldn’t care less
about Mommy’s bleeding nose).
She said Jesus listened to everyone’s sorrows,
children’s first,
that there was no need to tell anyone— He could read thoughts.
Impressive,
I thought, for a guy who’d been through a helluva lot himself,
being crucified and all that.
Daddy told Mommy not to make up ******** fairytales,*
that there’s no way
Jesus remained on the cross for as long as he did,
Pah! he said,
*they didn’t have superglue in those days, you dumb *****
Mommy said Yes-Yes, and shut her trap.
Mommy traded in her sanity for the bottle
Daddy fed her.
I stole Daddy’s shotgun and walked over to the Owens’,
where I threatened
to shoot little Jason, then aged five, if he didn’t lick me
up and down in front of his mother.
I’ve come a long way, and rumor has it there’s a price
on my little head,
that they had found Daddy’s ***** bones in the well
twelve years to the day—
but I’ve come to realize that this heart was made to ****
I’ll polish my shotgun and wait.
Feb 14, 2011
Feb 14, 2011 at 2:27 AM UTC
He leans back
Cracks open a beer
Watching the girl be loves spin around
With his beautiful 5 year old daughter
The sun is out
The grass is green
There's a football game on in the background
He takes it all in, memory by memory
And he mutters
"It's a helluva life"
Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 10:10 PM UTC
I've never been one
To be caught off guard
But I've got to say
This's one helluva start
I was raised in the suburbs
Felt at home in big towns
Haven't met many cowboys
Well, up until now
I watched you Hog Tie a runaway
And cling to that bull
You've got courage to spare
And your life sure seems full
Your hands are all roughed
Caloused from years of hard work
But your heart remains soft
Despite how you may look
Perhaps it's a phase
Some fickle teen dream
But I'm willing to bet
That it's more than it seems
So let us get comfortable
Under wide, free, west sky
Teach me to know horses
And I'll teach you to cry
One day, when we're ready,
When I can ride like the wind
You'll love me as much
As I did to begin
And after you've taught me
Everything that you know,
I'll teach you, in bed
The City Girl Rodeo ;)
Yeehaw!!
Aug 8, 2012
Aug 8, 2012 at 1:04 AM UTC
Sixty days straight you've been on my mind;
sixty days straight is a helluva lot of time
to go without seeing your face, beautiful face;
Time's a race and I just want it to be erased!
If I have to be honest let me say:
I'm angry about losing you, today.
No more of pining for what I lost;
today's the day I'm angry of the cost!
Babe, I hope you're feeling the same way.
We melted into each other's
cracks and crevices.
We intertwined in love like it was a design
and our hearts aligned, our souls combined,
torn apart, unkind; now all that's left is a
chalk outline!
I know you'd probably want me to move on and be happy;
All I know is I was happy when I was with you, so happy.
Our story shouldn't be over, why'd it get torn apart?
Like a trilogy cancelled halfway through part 2...
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 3:10 PM UTC