"hissy" poems
TEACHING TIMOTHY TO READ
( for Maureen )
She is teaching Timothy
to read
even though she
can't read herself.
Tongue firmly in cheek
she traces the words
with a tiny fingertip
that knows the story
off by heart she
could read it in the dark.
She is "pretending reading."
She has my every nuance and pause
by rote
making great efforts
to teach Timothy
the puppy
but Timothy the puppy
is more interested in
the un-thrown stick.
Timothy the puppy thinks this reading lark is
strictly for the humans.
"Once..." she begins
in a Fairy Tale-ish voice.
Timothy the puppy
barks in acknowledgement.
"Throwthestickthrowthestick!"
Timothy the Puppy's mind thinks.
"...upon a time
a long long time
...ago!"
Timothy the puppy looks
adoringly at his little mistress
with such an immensity of love and
licks her finger as it
travels over the words
the story's journey.
"Oh you..!" she scolds
"...are not even paying attention!"
"It's no good...I give up!"
she frowns at the unhappy creature
throwing the book away
in a prissy hissy fit.
Timothy the puppy
full of the joys of
a dog's life
( it's the only life he knows )
chases the fluttering pages
that fly like an exotic bird
brings Hans Christian Anderson back
his mouth full of words.
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 5:42 PM UTC
I pity anyone visiting us with
A language besides English;
Who tries to understand the words
We like to use with relish.
We seem to say so many words
Just to keep our lips busy.
It occurs to me the so much of it
Has never graced a dictionary.
Upscaling, downsizing
Offloading the whole magilla
The whole nine yards, bottom liine
The big honcho, the whole enchilada
I was completely plussed and then
I had my self a hissy fit
I didn't know I had a flabber,
'Til someone went and gasted it.
Hanging out, kicking back
Into myself and whatever
***** it, man. I am like, wow.
And y'know, yodda yodda yodda.
Some mean kinda fudpucker
Betcher bippees, yabba dabba doo.
Mazoomas and headlights,
Totally hyped megabitch, too.
Talkin' about 'sup bro
Stufflike windas and winders.
Jammin and gittin widdit
And sumpinbout pillas and pillers.
So, I goes and he goes,
And I'm all jazzed and by golly.
It really rocks, rad to the max
Get down to some serious party.
Sixes an sevens, p's and q's
What's your point? Get real!
It's pretty much a ******
So, what's the big deal?
Too much, I mean it's tough,
And stuff, and really far out, man.
Twenty three skiddo old bean.
Just a flash in the pan.
It ***** It blows, It bites, big time
A wicked righteous mindfuck.
Get jiggy with it. Kiss my crank;
Slob my **** Lord Love-a-duck.
Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 5:24 PM UTC
Such a snake you are,
poisonous words dripping like venom from fangs under bitten lips,
striking at the ever-so slightest nudge of your tail,
retreating and hissing for help from those you belittle;
Do I really seem like such a foolish little mouse,
slave and prey to your every whim, every change of mind?
I'd like to think not;
For your cussing and fussing, screaming and shouting,
while throwing a little hissy fit, is not proper etiquette,
even for a reptile such as yourself.
Such a tiny wriggling thing must be put in its natural place,
relocated to where it cannot bite the children
to where it can go find others like itself,
away from the big scary predators that might hurt it;
Humans, cars, bikes, cats, dogs, oh the possibilities are endless,
but you wound up in my path, unlucky you,
a demonic and unforgiving rage personified;
If you are a snake, I am a dragon,
if you are a fish, I'm a bloodthirsty shark,
darling don't you see how this works?
I've dealt with you long enough, you pest, you ungrateful little thing,
my mercy is off, our truce is through, now God only knows what'll happen to you,
did you think me to be a kind human being?
Well, I guess you're mistaken, so take a number, sweetie,
I'll call for you when I'm done sending others to the graveyard,
for if you think I'd even hold you at the top of my list,
you're sadly mistaken, yet again;
You should probably stop trying to predict me,
stop blaming me for each little thing,
for a predator can't be blamed for taking out pests,
nor animal control for relocating vicious creatures;
You silly little snake, do you think yourself to be a viper,
when really you're just a common garter?
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 3:03 PM UTC
market report: spinning on an axis of complexity
phrase captures and enraptures, buried deep in one of the
countless market reports that arrive every minute out of date by the time they press the end/send button but this rises
up from the forged gorge throat and all the rest falls away
spinning on an axis of complexity
sticks like Elmer's glue, white viscous, good for paper & skin,
cause you knew precision revision incision instantaneous,
they are intended for your eyes only, pasted to your eyes,
tinged tongue screaming you man, you poem
there is no
difference, for both at 1:55am
where time is sleep verboten,
when words are blood platelets in a mystery entitled
spinning on an axis of complexity
human must eat
human must work
human must love
human must sort the juggling orbs,
too much new information constant and brain incapacitated
*while falling-spinning
when eyes now fully glued shut by the
complexity of clashing algorithms
writing this market report on the state of me,
the passionate impartial analyst who boldly reveals, he proclaims
he owns stock in himself and issues a
sell recommendation*
the complexity-situation trending signals crash a-coming,
and at 1:59am after composing this hissy fit writ,
he downgrades the official outlook to sell and
lies down on the kitchen floor and laughs
with the angel dudes eating bagels and holding their sides,
cause they have been running a short position up in heaven
6/22/17 2:05am
nyc
Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 11:01 PM UTC
Boomzzz tikki tikki tikki
Wah Wah oomphz oomphz
me 69 ******** on yo momma and yo sis
Dr Weedlord ain't got time your hissy fits
dunk dur *** all over yo ****
Slap *** and go on reighding
Daddy Boozhead banging on your meemaw
asdf hu asdofh u asdjfnhau sdfh unh
p.s no women are harmed in the making of this production
Apr 16, 2020
Apr 16, 2020 at 5:13 PM UTC
TEACHING TIMOTHY TO READ
( for Maureen )
She is teaching Timothy
to read
even though she
can't read herself.
Tongue firmly in cheek
she traces the words
with a tiny fingertip
that knows the story
off by heart she
could read it in the dark.
She is "pretending reading."
She has my every nuance and pause
by rote
making great efforts
to teach Timothy
the puppy
but Timothy the puppy
is more interested in
the un-thrown stick.
Timothy the puppy thinks this reading lark is
strictly for the humans.
"Once..." she begins
in a Fairy Tale-ish voice.
Timothy the puppy
barks in acknowledgement.
"Throwthestickthrowthestick!"
Timothy the Puppy's mind thinks.
"...upon a time
a long long time
...ago!"
Timothy the puppy looks
adoringly at his little mistress
with such an immensity of love and
licks her finger as it
travels over the words
the story's journey.
"Oh you..!" she scolds
"...are not even paying attention!"
"It's no good...I give up!"
she frowns at the unhappy creature
throwing the book away
in a prissy hissy fit.
Timothy the puppy
full of the joys of
a dog's life
( it's the only life he knows )
chases the fluttering pages
that fly like an exotic bird
brings Hans Christian Anderson back
his mouth full of words.
Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 7:36 AM UTC
You took my heart right out of my chest
Like a knee to the stomach I often received
But will never forget.
You stomped on it and crushed it
Until all that was left was blood and shrapnel,
All because you lied and couldn't commit.
And then you came along and forced your way in,
It was easy and thoughtless and ******
And according to all your friends, I had it coming.
Gas lighting and manipulating
Pushing me over the edge over and over and over
Throwing hissy fits when you left me and I started dating.
You use people like they're toys
And treat them like they're trash.
All I can remember is the low of your voice,
It's my most disdained noise.
It's hard to bring myself out of it,
Out of the screaming matches
And the cruelty and my lips being split.
But I know he'll never hurt me
Like either of you did.
Because he's not so beastly,
And I'm, for some reason, worthy
Of kindness and being treated gently.
And his love is setting me free
Of the shackles you both have placed on me.
Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 9:21 PM UTC
There's a spiritual realm and there's this physical plane...
In the the spiritual realm, I'm a super hero, but in the physical- I'm just plain Jane...
In the spiritual realm, I brandish huge, shiny weapons, but in the physical- I'm a homemaker, making sure that my daughter gets her school lessons...
While y'all are tucked in, snug as a bug at night- I'm on another level, fighting for dear life...
I know some of y'all are gigglin and laughin-and that's quite alright...
But you need to be aware, because we super heros...we save lives.
We see, feel, and know things that you don't even know exist
Cause bwai, if you knew what I knew? You would throw a major hissy fit!
By day, I'm Clarketta Kent...
But at night, I kick demonic ***** with an artistic bent.
#TrueStory
#WarriorPrincess
#KiCotheConqueror
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 9:53 PM UTC
So i'm in this room,
these guys all wink,
hella dumb said pink in the stink,
when I focus they go
Hocus -pocus,
side tract mind cracked,
mind lost,
double trouble.
I'm in math can't help but laugh
cause two plus two means me plus you, ? O.o
your just so funny,
lol I'm not your'e honey,
your so cheezy and your'e hair is greesy.
Only girl,
And i'm the ****
cause these boys can't take a hit,
bitchen. Bitchen hissy fit,
why there hear,
well babysit...
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 3:08 PM UTC
10,000
early morning muses
but sometimes late at night
he brings enough sun
to make 1000 poems look easy
he is the leaven to our loaves and
the tequila to our margaritas
positively
positive he works through
the dark of night
to bring us light
and for the full effect
of his efficacy
drink dark coffee
first
then
sufficiently caffeinated
awakened and ready
to read
put in the work
to discover the words
his encouraging words of life
and maybe you’ll burn to earn
a bonus of how to survive
so very little sleep
for me
personally
its more about
the lines between the lines
than those not spoken at all
or written at all
rather realized
if I were to
focus on others
half as much as he
then maybe my life
would be less miserably
my own
more jokes than yokes
and less wails to no avails
no non-satiated regrets
or cratered frustration
rather
peace in a storm of senility
he writes for us all
with a message of hope
like the god of HP he sees
we are radiating rays
positivity pointed
one and all and
all together at
the same time
toward heaven
he moves freely
amongst our home page
from whence did he come?
from the fourth dimension
he brings forth conjuration
his style is love
his style is hope
his style is empathy
his style is encouragement
his style is truly who he is
he is an early morning beacon
bewildering
he comes from the east
to rise across our browsers
seeking the infection of discovery
in each hissy fit writ
we write
Sep 7, 2017
Sep 7, 2017 at 12:24 AM UTC
A lot of machines
are a lot like women
you have to read the manual
and press the right buttons
Machines can have a hissy fit
just won’t work thats it
you’ve pressed the wrong button
or turned the wrong key
today machine will cause misery
But treat them right
tend to their needs
and they’ll perform day and night
machine gives out what you feed
So be a good mechanic
be your machines tonic
bring the oil
for you it will toil
but remember
and keep an eye on when
every machine
needs a service now and then
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 6:13 AM UTC
Presenting spin in HD hues,
bankrolled by conglomerates,
the vapid visual dominates
The Lip-Glossed ***** Network News.
Eschewing all the old taboos:
a mouthpiece for the metro-queer.
The Antichrist will soon appear
on lip-glossed ***** network news.
Regardless of what next ensues
they cover every breaking story
(better when it’s really gory).
Attacks and tragedies amuse
They never miss their prime-time cues,
those pert disinformation crews:
the lip-glossed ***** network news.
Wherever a teapot tempest brews
they’re on the feed – it’s Live at 10;
they edit out the Truth and then
homogenize conflicting views.
Sedated viewers now can choose
what semi-informed tele-snooze
they wish to see or heed or use.
Water – water everywhere…
a thousand channels on the air
but precious little left to lose.
It’s fair and balanced – on the brink
between PC and global-think.
It’s news for nimrods: PRAVDA-lite
the babel of descending night
now veils the flat-screen universe
MSNBC gets worse
unable to reverse the curse
of lip-glossed ***** network news.
A bare and phalanxed fascist fox!
Liberals thus depict their foe;
(she’s barely right of center, though…
yet still they’re having hissy fits
while staring at her cleavage.) It’s
enough to make them blow their fuse –
forget diversity of views !
The offer no one can refuse
is lip-glossed ***** network news.
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 8:44 PM UTC
I am really not passible
Just **** as possible
For a well-worn *****
And, they call me Missy
Because I don’t think I can
Act like a masculine man
So spare me your hissy fit
Go someplace and get over it.
I can walk well in high heels
Don’t need any training wheels.
My taste in clothes is excellent
Not the slightest bit recalcitrant.
I’m fully into the new club scene
About half way to a drag queen.
One more piece of women’s wear
I’ll be ready to go about anywhere.
My movements are very delicate
And that is, of course, deliberate.
You get more if you advertise
And some assets I can’t disguise.
I’m six feet tall in my stocking feet
As spicy as Red Hots and twice as sweet.
If you don’t like your she-girls tall
Then you don’t know what’s good at all.
You’ll find me in cabarets, everywhere.
We’ll be up at the bar or in a chair
Showing off our legs and swinging
Lip-synching the words the juke is singing.
We’ll appreciate a drink, if you are buying,
We’ll make your day complete without trying.
We’re full of fun and know lots of jokes.
We’re a short vacation for the right blokes.
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 11:31 PM UTC
I wouldn't say it was necessarily my decision,
I just let my life play like I was watching it through a vision,
I remember every minute; was never watching for the high lights,
Was waiting for the day id have to ***** to say it's my life,
Instead I scream it's my right, literally living the high life,
Literally living for seconds I'm inhaling, hungry for seconds,
I'll wake up early just because I'm ready for breakfast,
Never had a chain, I lost my head, they call me necklace,
Throwing a hissy,
Fit, starting to wish she,
Would drive home but she just drank all the whiskey,
That ***** gotta be dizzy,
Darian, where you at, starting to wish you were with me,
Wish this bowl wasn't empty,
Wish my friends were more friendly,
I'm so cold,
My souls cold,
You ever thought?,
That you stopped living at 16, smoking *** in apartment complex, parking lots,
Gifted,
So very gifted,
She makes me feel so high much more than ever a spliff did,
I knew her long ago but never knew that it had meant this,
Grandmama as my witness, 6 years later bout to hit it,
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 2:15 AM UTC
clue time game of bluff-man blind fuss of obstacles scold up my mind -(the-vermin-are-quite-rife) / portrait, ambitious portrait racing a train - broadsword toward - a fertile pocket of prissy death ;/ crown, fist and sprawl in the court of The Charmers sole hissy-fit upon your knees
Jan 15, 2024
Jan 15, 2024 at 6:21 PM UTC
tossed around
like empty peanut shells
between a greedy hound girl
and the local squirrel riff raff
staging a hissy fit
territorial disputes run amuck
so much fuss
the elder pup stands firm
barks to never surrender
her claim to the lucky stash
all the while her feathered foes
swoop down
and steal them both blind.
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 3:22 PM UTC
I am really not passible
Just **** as possible
For a well-worn *****
And, they call me Missy
Because I don’t think I can
Act like a masculine man
So spare me your hissy fit
Go someplace and get over it.
I can walk well in high heels
Don’t need any training wheels.
My taste in clothes is excellent
Not the slightest bit recalcitrant.
I’m fully into the new club scene
About half way to a drag queen.
One more piece of women’s wear
I’ll be ready to go about anywhere.
My movements are very delicate
And that is, of course, deliberate.
You get more if you advertise
And some assets I can’t disguise.
I’m six feet tall in my stocking feet
As spicy as Red Hots and twice as sweet.
If you don’t like your she-girls tall
Then you don’t know what’s good at all.
You’ll find me in cabarets, everywhere.
We’ll be up at the bar or in a chair
Showing off our legs and swinging
Lip-synching the words the juke is singing.
We’ll appreciate a drink, if you are buying,
We’ll make your day complete without trying.
We’re full of fun and know lots of jokes.
We’re a short vacation for the right blokes.
(And, no. It is not autobiographical.)
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 7:56 PM UTC
When your fellow poet becomes jealous
Of your nick knacks love of the art
pure jealousy! lots of rocks to throw
I will continued to nibble on my dry ball point pen
I will rise up;
You will always be the underdog
I am not your caged bird
The scattered jeers, your hissy fits
your dark shadow of misery
or the back channel of you being misled.
It's only fair to say that---
**'Stupid as a man,' say the women: 'cowardly as a woman,' say the men. Stupidity in a woman is unwomanly."
-Friedrich Nietzsche**
Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 1:08 PM UTC
258 days,
August
Between July and August,
I think I said the dumbest things I've ever said to any organism that breathes, ever.
Ever.
I went so crazy throughout the summer.
I kept missing Nick.
I told you such horrible **** I should really just ******* **** myself for what I told you.
I seriously told you I only was with you because you'd probably hurt yourself.
I seriously told you that fair wasn't important.
I threw hissy fits over not hanging out. When it was mostly my fault anyway.
Doesn't that just prove how awful I am
...
You know, I'll probably treat the next girl to stumble into my heart bad too.
I'm a bad person.
Surely I will, because I'll never get over you, who I called my soul mate...
So how could I treat the next person well?
Instead, to save everyone the trouble,
I should probably just **** myself. Really.
But I can't push myself to do it,
Because that seems like an easy way out of this pain
That's a way out of my pain.
I need to keep living this life I'm in now
I need to keep suffering and dying, without you.
I've convinced myself I deserve it.
My life is so awful, that I consider living normally a form of self harm...
So anyway...
I kind of took Brandon under my wing, as he missed Nick too, even more than I did,
I spent way more time with Brandon, than I did with you.
I'm sorry I did so. He felt so guilty, for not going over there, how he or I could have saved him.
I spent the whole first week of this month out of state too.
Hold on, rewind the tape.
I told you what you were doing was unimportant
Yet I was out of state at a country music festival and that was supposed to be important?
I was so ******* stupid.
It was only then that I realized how ******* horrible I was to you. When I finally started piecing this whole thing together.
I can't blame your parents for jack squat.
I don't blame your friends.
I don't blame that girl you're falling for, that picked you up,
Because you needed picked up.
I still can't believe what I did to you.
Invited you over on my brothers birthday,
I would be moving into my parents house soon, and I wanted you to meet them
You smeared icing on my nose,
I got you back.
My grandparents were there, and things were moderately happy.
At least, okay...
Then I saw the scars on your arm.
Then I lost my cool.
Then when I drove you home,
I drove as if I was dropping you off at the ******* hospital like you were ******* dying
And after I dropped you off
I drove like I was ******* suicidal
It was my fault you relapsed
I'll always blame myself
Because I treated you like ******* ****
And I can't not blame myself.
I can't blame you for anything looking back
Because all I did was tear you up and let you down
I told you it was okay.
You didn't believe me...
Meanwhile I was fuming,
Some because of the promise you made me
But really, because all I'd ever done was **** things up
I can't blame this on your parents.
I can't blame you.
That's August.
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 3:11 AM UTC
Jordy does her yoga
Greets me smiling
Taking flight
Legs and arms akimbo
Picks the music
That she'd like
Yes she can be picky
She’s a Princess
No disguise
Keeps her posse jumping
When she flashes
Big brown eyes
Jordy, little sister
Halfway woman
Halfway child
Can be temperamental
Has a hissy
When she’s riled
She likes watching Ninjas
Leaping so high
Just like them
She has us all beguiled
Jordy Nicole
Never mild
She saw Ziggy Marley
At Sunfest
What a mob
Yet she prefers his father
The first Marley
She loves Bob
Feb 3, 2019
Feb 3, 2019 at 8:12 AM UTC
TEACHING TIMOTHY TO READ
( for Maureen )
She is teaching Timothy
to read
even though she
can't read herself.
Tongue firmly in cheek
she traces the words
with a tiny fingertip
that knows the story
off by heart she
could read it in the dark.
She is "pretending reading."
She has my every nuance and pause
by rote
making great efforts
to teach Timothy
the puppy
but Timothy the puppy
is more interested in
the un-thrown stick.
Timothy the puppy thinks this reading lark is
strictly for the humans.
"Once..." she begins
in a Fairy Tale-ish voice.
Timothy the puppy
barks in acknowledgement.
"Throwthestickthrowthestick!"
Timothy the Puppy's mind thinks.
"...upon a time
a long long time
...ago!"
Timothy the puppy looks
adoringly at his little mistress
with such an immensity of love and
licks her finger as it
travels over the words
the story's journey.
"Oh you..!" she scolds
"...are not even paying attention!"
"It's no good...I give up!"
she frowns at the unhappy creature
throwing the book away
in a prissy hissy fit.
Timothy the puppy
full of the joys of
a dog's life
( it's the only life he knows )
chases the fluttering pages
that fly like an exotic bird
brings Hans Christian Anderson back
his mouth full of words.
Oct 16, 2023
Oct 16, 2023 at 7:12 AM UTC
Resistance is:
The lack of willingness to change,
A desire for control.
We resist when we feel
Angry or hurt,
Because really we are scared.
The act of resisting takes so much energy,
But yet we continue because
We are slaves of habit.
So we waste away
Robbing our bodies and ourselves of
Everything, anything.
Because we want what we want and
Not what you want.
We have hissy fits and revert back
To our 2 year old selves
Trying to assert our independence.
Denying the fact that we have tied
A brick to our feet,
In the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, and
Proud of finally doing something on our own
We are alone
Sinking.
Unless we resist the urge to resist and
Call out for help
We will continue to sink
Then drown in our pride
Too resistant to try something new
Or do something different.
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 2:00 PM UTC
Painful among pains is separation
that will throw yourself into desperation
no matter the time of it
it's more harmful than a hissy fit
It's a kind of desperation
Oh! A very painful situation
Either it’s a two-legged man
that you have termed as human
or a four-legged man
that you tamed with humane
If it leaves once
and never comes
pain remains in heart
and often saddens a lot
Oct 25, 2024
Oct 25, 2024 at 8:30 AM UTC
Nothing more intimate than sleep
wake before dawn, go downtown
prepare for tomorrow, come home from work late.
Most cities prosper undisturbed
sleeping peacefully
while the tide goes out.
Are we asleep or are we dancing,
surrounded by buildings,
a primitive fertility dance in the forest?
Sleeping in my clothes,
sleeping in my underwear,
two dead leaves, then a breeze!
Fall asleep by the river,
in front of tv,
soon I will know who I am.
In the last days you may be found sleeping in the laundry mornings,
or sitting in the holy spot
gazing at a crescent moon.
Get up early but gotta nap,
winter afternoons or summer heat
Thanatopsis, Big Comfy Couch.
Sleep in the bed next to your wife
that way when life ends
someone misses you.
That sounds harsh but we’re matter of fact
about the fact of death.
Death is most of all like sleep.
Doctor, engineer, lawyer, soldier,
writer, poet, that’s the pecking order,
get some sleep, get over it.
Not the kind of gal who’ll have *** twice
on the first date. When that happens
marriage, babies, graduations, tragedies, sleep.
Headache, surgery, through it all
there’s sleep, a haven, heaven, hovel, cave, raven,
a place to be with eyes wide open.
Don’t have a hissy fit
or case of colon cancer, get 8 hours
shuteye in contiguous array.
If not, listen to a TED talk, they like explaining things
Selected Shorts solves insomnia,
The Moth Hour, the peaceful father, mother.
Sweet pleasing Sleep!
in Hades
where the lights are always blue, gentian actually.
Every third thought doesn’t have to be about death.
Sleep together, get laid.
Sleep. How memories are made.
Sleep. In the palm at the end of the mind or on another plane.
Oct 4, 2020
Oct 4, 2020 at 9:42 AM UTC
Come on out,
We are friends
You've fought demons for so long,
Am I beginning to look like one?
You are a closed door,
With a terrified child inside,
I am a gentle knock,
A friend on the other side,
I'm begging you to let me in,
But you just continue to hide,
It's going to get darker, love,
The demons will eat you raw,
What will I do then?
Knowing I should have tried once more,
So you can scream and pant,
Throw all the hissy fits you can,
I'll be here
Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 2:28 AM UTC