"hemming" poems
Crows and corn chips, Squirrels and beer sips…
Lazy hammock and Hemming-way,
our rabbits mowing the grass today...
A nap under the advancing stars,
A Paradise in our Backyard!
Raccoons love the chicken bones,
everynight, a fox visits our home,
Fish guts and crab-leg shells,
opossum out there giving-‘em-Hell,
Casting corn and some bird seed,
for Mother Nature everything she needs,
God’s aces and a Wild Card!
A Paradise in our Backyard!
Ohhh! In summer a Bar-be-que,
and you the prettiest girl I ever Knew!
Couple ‘o kids and a swimming pool,
mini-van and Cadillac-cool,
Love the beaches and mountains,
of Carolina and my country-kin,
Wouldn’t trade it for the whole of Mars,
A Paradise in our Backyard!
You and me under the stars,
our home, children and a dream of ours,
Leo, Virgo, Aries and Mars,
I thank the Lord for your tender heart.
Our life amazing, though a, rough start,
A Paradise in our Backyard!
Oo-oh -a paradise in our Backyard!
You and me under the stars,
Our home and children; a dream of ours,
Leo, Virgo, Aries and Mars,
I thank the Lord for your tender heart...
...a Paradise in our Backyard!
Some people say it’s just a yard,
...this paradise under the stars,
Leo, Virgo, Aries and Mars,
you, me, children of ours.
Our home, children, a dream of ours,
I thank you Jesus for your tender heart;
Paradise in our Backyard!
A Paradise in our Backyard!
Oooh -a paradise in our Backyard!
You and me under the stars,
Our home and children a dream of ours,
Leo and Virgo, Aries and Mars,
A Paradise in our Backyard!
Praise Jesus and NAS-CAR!
You and me under the stars,
our home and children a dream of ours,
Leo and Virgo, Aries and Mars,
some people say it’s just a yard?
You and me under the stars
-and a Paradise in our Backyard!
*A Paradise in our Backyard!
A Paradise in our Backyard!
A Paradise in our Backyard!*
<musical break>
I love you,
heaven: Hea Anna
Jul 19, 2016
Jul 19, 2016 at 11:59 PM UTC
I swear
somebody is following my inner footprint
recording and analyzing
hemming and coughing and clearing their throat
assessing my
"situation"
Stalking stalking stalking me
and filling my fortune cookies with relevant words
to psyche me out
i swear
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 2:57 AM UTC
But why did I **** him? Why? Why?
In the small, gilded room, near the stair?
My ears rack and throb with his cry,
And his eyes goggle under his hair,
As my fingers sink into the fair
White skin of his throat. It was I!
I killed him! My God! Don't you hear?
I shook him until his red tongue
Hung flapping out through the black, queer,
Swollen lines of his lips. And I clung
With my nails drawing blood, while I flung
The loose, heavy body in fear.
Fear lest he should still not be dead.
I was drunk with the lust of his life.
The blood-drops oozed slow from his head
And dabbled a chair. And our strife
Lasted one reeling second, his knife
Lay and winked in the lights overhead.
And the waltz from the ballroom I heard,
When I called him a low, sneaking cur.
And the wail of the violins stirred
My brute anger with visions of her.
As I throttled his windpipe, the purr
Of his breath with the waltz became blurred.
I have ridden ten miles through the dark,
With that music, an infernal din,
Pounding rhythmic inside me. Just Hark!
One! Two! Three! And my fingers sink in
To his flesh when the violins, thin
And straining with passion, grow stark.
One! Two! Three! Oh, the horror of sound!
While she danced I was crushing his throat.
He had tasted the joy of her, wound
Round her body, and I heard him gloat
On the favour. That instant I smote.
One! Two! Three! How the dancers swirl round!
He is here in the room, in my arm,
His limp body hangs on the spin
Of the waltz we are dancing, a swarm
Of blood-drops is hemming us in!
Round and round! One! Two! Three! And his sin
Is red like his tongue lolling warm.
One! Two! Three! And the drums are his knell.
He is heavy, his feet beat the floor
As I drag him about in the swell
Of the waltz. With a menacing roar,
The trumpets crash in through the door.
One! Two! Three! clangs his funeral bell.
One! Two! Three! In the chaos of space
Rolls the earth to the hideous glee
Of death! And so cramped is this place,
I stifle and pant. One! Two! Three!
Round and round! God! 'Tis he throttles me!
He has covered my mouth with his face!
And his blood has dripped into my heart!
And my heart beats and labours. One! Two!
Three! His dead limbs have coiled every part
Of my body in tentacles. Through
My ears the waltz jangles. Like glue
His dead body holds me athwart.
One! Two! Three! Give me air! Oh! My God!
One! Two! Three! I am drowning in slime!
One! Two! Three! And his corpse, like a clod,
Beats me into a jelly! The chime,
One! Two! Three! And his dead legs keep time.
Air! Give me air! Air! My God!
4.6k
There was a song,
I recall like a drug.
From my childhood,
yet faintly lost at sea.
It was a sweet song.
A whistle?
A sweet song indeed.
It was a humming,
and a hemming.
And I sway to the long,
for that old sweet song.
The song that shut
sweet child eyes.
The song that could
disguise bad times.
The song filled with warmth,
to soften my ice.
The song that calmed pain,
proving the existence of 'truly nice.'
This song from way low,
to the day I now know,
is my..heart
my..sky
my lu-lu-lullaby
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 10:14 PM UTC
Through my lungs to my heart , smoked you like a volatile joint ,
Your love proposition , holding my impotent life at gunpoint.
As you embroided my life with lacerate scars of pain and deceit,
Which I merely clothed myself hemming my love pleat by pleat .
Stripping me down you flung me like half smoked cigarette ****
That’s when I knew you created that crater deep till my gut
But life is a drama backstaged with chances,
Once again it would rain on you a downpour of judgement,
Then ill be the sky to judge with a turbulent temperament.
I want the thunder to clap in approval and gain ,
The darkness to blanket my self inflicted pain .
But again you breathe I love you into the air …and I melt my life once again before you .. because simply I love you.
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 4:32 AM UTC
It has been so long since I have had any sort of physical contact with someone,
that,
when the little, fragile woman
hemming my pants,
accidentally grazed my ankle,
while placing the pins,
I had almost mistaken it for some sort of affection.
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 7:42 PM UTC
Oh us silly girls,
Always dancing around.
Oh us silly girls,
Wearing our crowns.
Oh us silly girls,
Writing love poems.
Oh us silly girls,
Wanting to grow up.
Oh us silly girls,
Living through dreams.
Oh us silly girls,
Hemming the seams.
Oh us silly girls,
Falling in love.
Oh us girls,
How we need our love.
Aug 18, 2011
Aug 18, 2011 at 12:39 AM UTC
I should go to sleep but the mind wants to keep me awake
it is shunting along and I tell it
it's wrong to go on,
but go on it will until the still of the night and the absence of light weighs down my eyes.
Tomorrow lies heavy upon this old man and today can do as it likes,and it likes to harass me with memory upon memory and if I close my eyes is it then that I can't see?
can't be still
got no will to resist that look through the gather of mist that is hemming me in.
The needles and pins that stick where nobody wins and they always seem to be sticking in me,
or perhaps that's just a memory.
Either way
today has to go
I know I need sleep
I need to keep myself well and as the ref rings the bell for the third and final round.
I've finally found
a rest
Oct 18, 2013
Oct 18, 2013 at 9:30 PM UTC
A jump rope lisping
Through loose gravel and rhymes.
Resembling orchestras and rapidly
Scratched-out novels,
Evolution of an indifferent ******
Delicate lacework stitched
Beneath the youthful
And frail. Disintegrating
Like a bird’s nest, once
Air conditioning expires.
Scampering between markets,
Wavering while waiting
In redundant lines, as you
Carelessly caress outerwear that you
Waited in line for yesterday.
Placing yourself professionally
On seats, beside plainly colored
Briefcases. Quivering arms
Tingle, as the blood
Relinquishes.
Wordless entities fill
Empty rooms, as pressure
Builds from the exterior and in.
Tarnished sneakers sink and slip,
Amidst cunning quicksand.
Mangled and thrashed,
Fabrics that used to be
Accustom to merry-go-rounds, and dry
Eyes. Gently laced hemming,
Lacerated at the seams.
Stroll down whimpering sidewalks
That sting for vibrations, fixed
By a stranger’s oblivious feet.
Jerking outerwear closer
As no emotions pass.
Synthetic joy overcomes
You, when droning
Minds think alike.
Wriggling and skulking
To cease the crunching of time.
Jan 30, 2012
Jan 30, 2012 at 12:40 PM UTC
Dandelions thrash to the opening chorus of rattle clank by the chain links
yellow heads bobbing
tussled mops of white ****** back defiantly into the wind
until they lean against one another
exhausted and bald
Foxtails sway
feathered limbs thrumming
raised in the air like they just don't care
drumming to the beat of highway traffic
never alone
but gathered together in tight clusters
wary of outside influence
Thistles nod to smoother tunes
the conservative hemming in the edges
seeming almost out of place
until they throw down with their true colors
sporting mohawks in ever shade of purple
The show ends with deep shades of night
falling like a curtain to quiet the floral concert
Until dawn when the show goes on
Aug 29, 2013
Aug 29, 2013 at 9:58 AM UTC
Dawn's golden notes stream
across barn's yellow beams
supporting stables hemming horses
cavorting cows sagging udders
melding with yellow hay
bouncing glistening pitchforks prongs
as the song begins.
Dust, glittering as if a nebula, each speck of it freed of
ground, twittering around like birds wading sound.
Spread out, as if a picture, dots of bright ethereal
in their luminescence lightened blinking out
as if frightened, but then heaving about
in the barn's barren air circulating redoubt,
sparkle yet again,
and again,
until they are drowned dark black out
by the opening of a barn door.
Little of moment's loves
Transform our precious
Frail pleasures
Into eternal loves
Unless there is a decision
to greet the old and mundane as
new,
as if dust were stars.
Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 2:09 PM UTC
Have you ever had a moment when you were
right where you should be?
I've just had a day.
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 11:50 AM UTC
Not quite lost, but wandering.
In the fog between two truths.
On the right is fortitude,
My only love for years.
And on the left,
Is all things new.
Perhaps a sunny day...
This or that to choose.
The mechanics of my mind,
Have never worked that way.
Decisions are not mine to make,
For they make me,
Eventually.
Limbo of contentment. In between.
Where I spend the day.
Until right or left makes me
Magnetized their way.
Jan 30, 2011
Jan 30, 2011 at 7:57 PM UTC
words what more than silence, criminal
shaded meanings plump like the mien of a night-strewn beast.
words what more than sounding for it
the night hemming into, less than a fugitive by definition
words do I deny the static of soul when quiet then
places the cholera in our abdomens ?
to say when the nature of the tangent is a voyage
of the story you’re telling, masked behind a non-sequitur
that does not intersect elsewhere issued by
a lack. where else are we only slightly connected
when we move to break a point, or to distract
a face once again foreign, your name emerging as whimper.
coming out denied.
words what more than revenge, your sound less than an alternative
bandwidth confusing its meaning
coming out undisguised.
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 8:29 AM UTC
Up on the HILLS we are!
Standing naked the youth to FALL!
Naked breathing with a literary remembrance
That breathes not us
But something altogether UNJUST
To tell the scroll of KEROUAC GINSBERG
A metamorphised aftermath of a place to go from there
We are too connected to fake to be connected
We just don't choose to
SPEAKE
At last we are standing face to face
And yet we would rather choose
DEATH
We would rather choose to say a closeted
HELLO
Stones bury themselves so they do not see the
Sun shine
Sand worries as it spits on itself again & again
Just to tell itself it is SANE
Mr. D stays an outlaw as He's always believed He's been
Much like Jesus
Who's running
From supposed
Judas
My heroes are hemming their jeans
Just to stay safe
From a labeled faith
At last the skies are open an music'
Oh' music
Shows its true tragic face
At last the flower
With all its power
Reveals the teal
That has always shown itself to me
So real
Illuminations
Dear Rimbaud
In your commerced grave
That you once thought was naive'
Spins as fast as you wish it
Rolls even quicker
Unless you can pin it
Neither I nor I can tell where the world will hold itself tomorrow
For the future
Can never be justly sold or
Told
May 23, 2011
May 23, 2011 at 11:58 PM UTC
our clothes,
our tattered clothes
are torn up and frayed,
unsightly and stained
the bindings are strained,
they fit no longer
the hemming gave 'way,
they hold no longer
our feet,
our blistered feet
are cut up, in pain,
aching, inflamed
their will's been bent,
they heave no longer
their life's been spent,
they move no longer
our hearts,
our hollowed hearts
are battered and bruised,
worn out and used
all has been drained,
they bleed no longer
their thumping has waned,
they beat no longer
our hopes,
our shattered hopes
are blackened and greyed,
broken, dismayed
all has been lost,
we hope no longer
we're wont to last,
we yearn no longer
our souls,
our flustered souls
are darkened and swayed,
lost and derailed
their glow's been dulled,
they shine no longer
their flow's been culled,
they live no longer
our hands,
our calloused hands,
tho' wounded and gashed,
hardened and bashed
are all we have to show at the end of the day...
Jun 22, 2025
Jun 22, 2025 at 8:51 PM UTC
Bee line in the beach lane
on to a resourceful resort
Of styles, shorts and sorts
in search of freedom
from enforced routine
Bales of barren clouds
Mushroomed the sky line
Set a merry mood in motion
of the touting tots n' lots
The band of souls pitched
hand in hand on sand
Gay was the day at bay
All and sundry fielded the day
Bask and bath
Rock and roll
Fun and frolic
Wind and weather
Hoot and beat
Hip hip hurray
soaked in the sea of ecstasy
Slim shut swim suit
hemming here and there
Bikini blonde bouncing
Spicy curves and colors
pushed up passions
Of the passers by
Sand sipping sea
Sea slipping sand
Land and sea lip to lip
A great fun to run around
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 11:13 PM UTC
our clothes,
our tattered clothes
are torn up and frayed,
unsightly and stained
the bindings are strained,
they fit no longer
the hemming gave 'way,
they hold no longer
our feet,
our blistered feet
are cut up, in pain,
aching, inflamed
their will's been bent,
they heave no longer
their life's been spent,
they move no longer
our hearts,
our hollowed hearts
are battered and bruised,
worn out and used
all has been drained,
they bleed no longer
their thumping has waned,
they beat no longer
our hopes,
our shattered hopes
are blackened and greyed,
broken, dismayed
all has been lost,
we hope no longer
we're wont to last,
we yearn no longer
our souls,
our flustered souls
are darkened and swayed,
lost and derailed
their glow's been dulled,
they shine no longer
their flow's been culled,
they live no longer
our hands,
our calloused hands,
tho' wounded and gashed,
hardened and bashed
are all we have to show at the end of the day...
Jun 11, 2025
Jun 11, 2025 at 5:30 AM UTC
If Dawkins were right
And faith is a farce
A human construct
If Nietzsche were right
And man has outgrown God
As a child outgrows his toy
Then all this
Hemming
And
Hawing
Would have all been in vain
All ****** folly
And this time could have been put
To better use
Courting you
And we would be
So very happy
Together.
~
Yet if the scriptures were right
And we are spirits made flesh
Having appointments with divine destiny
Then you are but a thought
A temptation
Testing me
An exaltation against His knowledge.
A boon you are not
But a bane.
And I am to nail it all
To the foot of the cross
Just as how I am to nail my flesh,
My sinful nature,
To this altar.
And in Him
Shall I find all-transcendent peace.
For putting the Kingdom first,
Shall I receive His best.
~
That is,
If.
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 6:01 AM UTC
It might be bright in Brighton but for now, I've got the light on because London's dark and grim, they're building buildings everywhere, hemming people in, yes, Brighton looks a better bet, London's very grim
and then I find that Brighton's lined with a well-defined sense of the sea.
I think I may like Brighton and Brighton may like me, well until I crack on with the poetry and then they'll probably strangle me.,
May 22, 2022
May 22, 2022 at 1:32 AM UTC
Let’s begin
When you left you were shaking off resentment from your skin like
what's creeping up the wrong sill like worms deciding too many things
Left footed thoughts, swinging right in the outfield, me
you up to
bat and ready to
swing but
let’s rearrange, compose, like a symphony
no like
geometry, because there must be proof in sides
so
Falling to time,
a narrative begins between peeling walls and moldy carpets
here, this is
where, we fell into the hole you hide in the back of your closet
us, American kids, falling in love over fuzz free tv
and candy
coating our clean tongues with ****
playing with our time in-between friction and when time
comes for our tongues to throw pitches against the midfield of your mouth
Fast Forward
you’re carving out your tonsils in the kitchen
with plastic spoons cause us,
poor and unready, for grow up things except diners
silver stained spoons, when all we needed was a god
**** knife,
for two years we get at it like kids do
loving the can opener that rides our back, twisting our spine
Rewind
up to the neck, wring like a rodeo
but all in good fun,
cause you only saw it on the television set
and there’s no harm in that television set for now,
no harm in "for now", but only
for right now for
us,
Purchase kids, writhing for the championship
of the some sea that
diminishes the second we ride the ground
spun, no longer won anything
Pause
sythentically sealed
and hemming like led
us, babies of the land stretching
his back waiting to wash us up to a home,
our silken thoughts snag on the line
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 9:41 PM UTC
This dimension of living is endlessly shrouded in mystery.
We are the midwives to our own platform of living and we have the authority to liquidate it and start upon a new tier at any moment.
I know but only what my eyes have unrobed to show me.
All around us isolated winsome lives of their own fabric and hemming are kerneled into the crust of our worlds existence.
We are so distinctly separate yet intrinsically connected.
We tend to weave our lives in a way to circumvent the albatross that is free-floating and searching for a host.
It is so simple to sector yourself away from the things that pose fluster to your character.
But we infallibly need each other, we must uncloak ourselves from the throttling labels.
Once you make peace with the construction of this world you are unfettered and free.
All of these sumptuous luminescent minds quarantined away serve no good. Live your life with decorum and ease and let this light scintillate to invigorate others. This revolution is not rooted in vociferous speeches and affronts, but by merely emitting your unadulterated authentic self. Excavate yourself of the toxic of society and you will become the voltaic entity.
Make haimish comfort with the idea of uncertainty and live life simplistically.
Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 5:18 PM UTC
My Aunt was hemming my
skirt for school today.
And as I stood on the chair
To try it on,
I realized the hook on the
Ceiling could easily
Fit a rope,
Then I could tie
A noose and
Put my head in
And kick
The chair
Away.
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 12:25 AM UTC
Bee line in the beach lane
on to a resourceful resort
Of styles, shorts and sorts
in search of freedom
from enforced routine
Bales of barren clouds
Mushroomed the sky line
Set a merry mood in motion
of the touting tots n' lots
The band of souls pitched
hand in hand on sand
Gay was the day at bay
All and sundry fielded the day
Bask and bath
Rock and roll
Fun and frolic
Wind and weather
Hoot and beat
Hip hip hurray
soaked in the sea of ecstasy
Slim shut swim suit
hemming here and there
Bikini blonde bouncing
Spicy curves and colors
pushed up passions
Of the passers by
Sand sipping sea
Sea slipping sand
Land and sea lip to lip
A great fun to run around
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 7:41 AM UTC