"hobbes" poems
I was walking down the street
Had an urge to *****
Saw a ***** dumpster
this looks nicer than the girl I dumped'r
I unzipped my pants
shat on the plants
got nice and hard
and shot off harder than a pornstar.
**** THAT DIDN'T RHYME)
I have too much time
because all I do is shoot slime
all over the back
of a president who is black.
I like *****
I bang *****
I make them ***
faster than a game of putt putt.
****** I CANT ******* RHYME)
All of you poetry snobs
are more stupid than calvin and hobbes
You will never be as successful as
Steve Jobs.
End of story. Because I am about to write another ****** poem.
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 4:06 PM UTC
There is nothing here
Not the façade of a façade
Can’t you see our idea fading?
We thought we were Hobbes’ Leviathan
The modern alchemists of state
We’re nothing more than rodents!
Scurrilous, maladapted membranes
Spewing from democracy forth
Ought they to encapsulate us?
They must needs encapsulate the naïve!
Whiling away at the trough as though livestock
I’m to be ground on the wheel regardless;
Nay, stretched on the rack of modernity!
By the comforts of progress and superficiality
Sought after as if vital
By the people, “We the people!”
Rallying cry for throngs, imprisoning themselves
With society, a subtle hocus pocus
The trite, aged argument
Of those who’d force you build your very tenement
Paying rent to breathe,
Countless yet believe
Tripartite consumer, greed and slavery
Surrounding you and me
Separating ignorance from squalor
In a ghetto of the mind
You're right, we're alright
Jul 28, 2010
Jul 28, 2010 at 9:11 PM UTC
Yes I jumped in those leaves
crunchy, fluffy, autumn leaves
Waded in the decorative fountain
Climbed on the public art
Yes I danced swing in the BART station
Hid in the grocery store among rolls of
toilet paper
Had to *** a ride after the Dicken's faire
Played in the rain
Hugged my mother
Made my dad take me to see Tangled in 3D
Yes I measured the baking soda for those
dinosaur chocolate chip cookies
Loved Steve Irwin will all my childhood admiration
Was afraid of the Deep End
Memorized Shel Silverstein
Remember my sister reading me Harry Potter
Gripping my best friend on Tower of Terror, Indiana Jones, Space Mountain
Sang Christmas Carols in October
And I'm not even sorry
I was a pirate paleontologist pop-star
pokemon master steampunk rocker renaissance girl who
time-traveled, hunting T-rex
adventuring with Christopher Robin, Calvin and Hobbes
Made two corsages for my junior prom, fed ducks,
ate at Mels, posed in the dollar store, watched
the Avengers in our glittering dresses for the second
Laughed so hard I cried about the stupidest things
I doubted, got lost in Costco, found my faith
Had my prayers answered
For the bestest, most faithful friends
I have the "simple human relief of knowing you’ve done wrong, and living through it"
And don't take this the wrong way
It's not like I'm going to jump off a bridge
Well, maybe with a bungee cord?
But if I died right now
**** Gone.
I wouldn't say I envied anybody
Not really
We've had a pretty **** great time
haven't we?
Oh sure I'd protest
Places to go, people to see, things to eat, but...
As long as You forgive me
my faults
Whose to say,
There is anything else I HAVE to do
Before I have lived a GREAT life
I have nothing to prove
besides that I am grateful
for this breath of life
which may pass at any moment
Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 2:49 PM UTC
I've never liked the expression
'Sticks and stones may break my bones,
But words will never hurt me."
I think it undermines the power of words
It's undeniable that words have an impact on people
Letters strung together can sting a person's soul
When they are spoken with a tongue used like a whip
Words evoke passion,
They inspire us,
Make our blood boil,
Horrify us,
And yes, they can hurt us
To say that words can't hurt,
Is to demean all that words do
Look at Marat,
Martin Luther,
Shakespeare,
Darwin,
Hobbes,
Freud,
Orwell,
Paine
And tell me words can't change the world
Words are what I turn to when I have nothing left
I'd rather my bones break,
That would be much better,
Than to lose my dignity,
To have a record of voices
Tell me I'm useless,
I'm stupid,
I'm fat,
I'm never good enough
Always on repeat,
Always on my mind,
Always ringing true
Maybe I'm over analytical
Maybe I care too much
About things said in the past
But here's to all the "I love you's"
All the "I hate you's"
To saying "I don't give a ****
The pen is indeed mightier than the sword
Because your words
Are what made me turn the blade
On myself
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 5:38 PM UTC
To be abnormal in a normal world, is that so uncool? How about to be unjust in an unjust world? Surely then yes, for I am a fool. Not a fool so cruel, but a fool too cool to abide by societies rules. You see, it is the nature of man to be just as unjust as the unjust world, just as must as it is to be a fool, but not a foolish fool. Now you, you are a tool, for living the just life in an unjust world. You are the tool and I am the Utilitarian, and will use you to my advantage and private interests. That’s just how things go here in this structured place, meant to deface and interface yourself. Desensitize you to yourself; reduce yourself to a cheap exploitative commodity; a means for my planned robbery laid near a veneer of parliament armory. Society rules by the Golden Rule, and that is: Those with the gold are those who rule! Now who is the fool you tool?!
Nov 27, 2010
Nov 27, 2010 at 6:06 PM UTC
You’re my Calvin and I’m your Hobbes
You lead me to adventures that will change our lives as we know it
I follow, the faithful companion, always ready to assist in any way
During the day we plot the Yukon and sail the seven deadly seas
At night we fend off terrible monsters under the bed and the adults who try to ruin us
I never leave your side, and if I do you very well know where I am
Best friend no matter what, guardian until the bitter end
We stand tall together and have each others’ back
We are two of the best friends in the universe
No one has anything on us
The child at heart and the tiger in spirit
You think we’ll ever break apart?
Yeah... me either.
Feb 26, 2012
Feb 26, 2012 at 1:36 AM UTC
I want to be a father, that is strange coming from a 19 year old college student.
No not just to get laid or get the girl.
I want to teach my son the world.
I want to teach him that Laughter is the best medicine
I want him to prescribe a large dosage to all of the people who are down in the dumps,
I want him to call all of the girls pretty
Because it doesn't matter how much war paint they paint on their face.
No matter how many guys told her she is ugly,
She is still that princess that is sitting on that ivory tower and
She needs that prince charming to sweep her off her feet.
And when he finds the love of his life I want him to say,
”come on down you are the only contestant in my price is right.”
I want to teach him that Chivalry isn't dead
I want to teach him that politeness isn’t dead like Elvis
dead like retro disco and that one guy from Clue
I want him to know that nice guys don’t finish last
I want him to open all of the doors and always say please and thank you because politeness is the bandage over our gaping emotional wounds left by the people who lost their insecurities in their own dusty attics.
I want to teach him that imagination is the best tool
No no wait it is the ONLY tool
I want him to know that Calvin and Hobbes does exist
I want him to know that when he is not around,
His toys become alive and have a thriving hidden city underneath his bed.
I want him to fight the monsters in his closet while reciting Beowulf .
I want him to know that its okay to be scared
I want him to explore the dark caves in the basement and to defeat that evil dragon that rest there.
Many of you call it a furnace, but is a dragon alright?
I want to read him bedtime stories so we can fly off to our imagination fighting epic thunder storms trying to find that perfect catch.
I want to teach him the good stuff,not math or science
but ethics, politics, history, and literature
I want him to know that its okay to be fearful of the unknown
and that Ignorance is the poison to our minds
I want to make recite Hamlet or Twelfth Night, so when people are all talking trash he can say “don't make me go Shakespeare on your *** and for those people who stand in his way.
I must warn them that his bruises will fade and his cuts will heal but he tells you next will never leave your heart and will haunt you for the rest of his life. So go ahead call him names, see what happens.
I want to teach him to be passionate
I want to teach him that if anyone comes up to him and tells him that he can't do what he wants. I want him to bite his thumb and say listen buddy just wait before you know it I'll be the one who will be writing my name on the wall of glory.
Now I know I am far from perfect, and I know he will be too, but I want to teach him that this world can be perfect, if you open up your mind and heart.
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 9:50 PM UTC
AColdblueSnowman
Raises a blow-dryer
Commits Suicide
9/26/12
Sep 28, 2012
Sep 28, 2012 at 2:19 AM UTC
About people being evil at least.
I've met plenty of people
Who care nothing but of themselves.
But I've never met a good person
Who hadn't been through hell.
Oct 19, 2012
Oct 19, 2012 at 9:40 AM UTC
I felt something.
And because I did,
that makes it real.
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 7:14 AM UTC
Plebians
Gentry
Plebians
Slaves
And gentry?
Kapital.
A story
For the ages
Of enlightenment
At bedtime
It can’t be heard in darkness
It can’t be seen in peace
Enclosure farmers
Your ancestors, my fair, European scavengers
We’re victim to this system
Hundreds and hundreds of years
You all drink lattes
I smell the fat burn
Jul 28, 2010
Jul 28, 2010 at 1:36 AM UTC
i ladle and belch the **** of my manure cloud sphere clad with
serious hair up to the lip of 2nd speaking red and receding in naked
i growly split tenderly aching muck and i open my mouth and
procreate assuredly my twin vibrations of love and death and i'm
also as they. or who is the bursa inflamed digital crunching sapphire
and
only my fathers know also what. they are only old. but took me
in their ink and gave me blood and gave me words and they are Eliot
or cummings OR hobbes or deScartes and plAto or Nietzsche'
and they showed me. and they showered me. and they make me
or only(itseems) they do: are likened unto me and the machine of my
thought making grayness...
and only my fathers
they know only like me and we are 1
Nov 3, 2010
Nov 3, 2010 at 11:20 AM UTC
The greatest proof we have
That intelligent life exists outside our galaxy...
Is that they haven't tried to contact us yet.
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 8:22 PM UTC
Today marked the first time
I used a pipe cleaner
For its actual purpose
And suddenly
A simple action
Turned momentous.
I found the furred wire
In an old box of crafts
My mother had saved
From elementary school projects.
As I prodded the pipe
With the cleaner that was only ever
Supposed to be used
To bend into bracelets,
I couldn’t help thinking of you.
I used to only find kisses
In cartoon form:
Stickers attached
To the backs of coloring books
.
My greatest childhood love?
Flipping on a flashlight to
Devour my latest book
Well past my bedtime.
So clean,
So pure,
So bliss.
So scrubbing away resin
Feels akin to washing away sins
Because like Adam and like Eve
Somewhere along the line
I lost my innocence.
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 10:51 PM UTC
If neoliberalism has taught me anything
It’s that Love is a close, slow, and cold war
Of poisoned wells, proxy wars, and intel—
Know thy enemy, keep them closer than allies.
So close this necessary rivalry
That no olive branch can pass between
That, even in times of peace,
The light-bearing serpents
Post guard near the vaults of one’s purity
Unsure whether grain or gold
Actually lines the walls of ones coffers,
And the thousand envious myrmidons
Kept along the edges of their body’s territory
And skirt the embassy within.
Is there room in the hearth
For pacifists like me?
Or are all the rooms quartered by troops?
It’s sad to say, only the words of the cynic
Could truck and barter
Their way through the bronze gates,
What small inlets there may be,
As master seeking the slave
And slave, the master’s whips
Is a true sign of loyalty to Monogamy’s crown.
What Love couldn’t be said to be
The sadomasochism of
The corporate merger,
Or annexation
Or competitive market of ideas?
*** in the time of Smith or Hobbes,
Is exactly what we need—
Egoism allwheres,
Like so much embroidery
The love of ones life
Veils ********** a swallowing, a utility
And undoes the altruism,
Anything but all-true-ism,
In favor of the fetishism of control,
Flashed like semaphores in storm-beaten nights
To any ship passing
Seeking port and safe passage,
Exchange fire, those shapes and pleas,
Turned warnings to threats,
Sinking, sinking deeper
Into each other’s arms.
In all their plotting, do they hear
Andres-Salome, Ree, and Nietzsche
Laughing about in unburdened skin
Laughing to let the summer in,
On cart-drawn pleasures
And rustic, old-world habits
That rub dirt in the wound
Of the flesh’s censures
By the cruel absence of the lash
And the ostracon.
Sep 29, 2019
Sep 29, 2019 at 12:23 PM UTC
Today I'd like you to raise your glass
For I've someone I'd like to toast.
Her hair curls like a corkscrew
And I've always been envious.
Exotic beauty shapes her eyes
And ears and lips and nose,
And I always wished I looked like her.
It isn't merely her looks I covet,
For she has a brain with intellect
That rivals the best rhetorician
From Plato to Hobbes to Sartre.
Pick any topic and she'll begin to debate
With practiced ease
Until the other's hand is thrown up
In plain defeat.
But it isn't just her forensic skills
That I wish to possess.
There is yet more to this curl topped girl.
Her heart is bigger than the world.
She loves with compassion
And sympathy
Like I've never witnessed before.
This is what I envy and covet the most,
For where her heart of gold lies,
Mirrored in me is just stone.
She may be younger in years
But she's always been a hero of mine.
And I hope I will continue to be in awe
As she shows the world
Who we all can strive to become.
To my sister.
Sláinte
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 11:14 PM UTC
A boy and his tiger
went exploring in magical worlds
sharing sweet summers
when it only rained at night
and they met in dreams
of sunlight.
If everything went according to plan
they don't talk anymore
and a stuffed toy
with no memory
collects dust in August
not fireflies.
But sometimes things
don't follow trodden paths
sometimes love lasts
and doesn't go anywhere,
sometimes a boy and his tiger
are together everyday,
sometimes
things stay.
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 5:24 PM UTC
Every part exist for a common reason:
the protection of the peace and the protection of our children,
so the head of the body must always stay sound,
and the body of the head must never unbound,
The head of the beast must never rest easy,
for the parts closest the neck will always be greedy,
and the part that are below the chest will aspire to rise,
so the head of the body must always be wise,
respectable, noble, and never is he wrong,
to feed the illusion that his will is still strong,
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 2:18 PM UTC
Can we think old thoughts as thought by earlier readers,
without walling a mind off from all we know,
which Hobbes had no way of learning,
though? No.
We need this knack of we being, a you and a me, seeing
an I, in a time long ago.
Egalitarian sortings of men, arrogation worth,
a-dam, novus knower,
acknowledge me your equal? Dare ye, I may be a fool.
Levelers were around, in Hobbes's town, taking time
to bring the highest minded down,
not to lift the baser sort up.
-- none the less, lime the branch,
-- by chance a bird may bring a word, watch
we heard, the deceived received a reprieve,
we've found the edge stitched in
second thoughts and other wise guesses as good,
good enough
to keep life as we have agreed, conserving
the power in the
word - life as in -- we live, not me without you or we
without all the otherwise functionaries,
maintaining the planet and aching
to settle down to day and night,
just right.
Balance in being part of it all,
restored,
for a second there, didjafeel it?
Nov 1, 2020
Nov 1, 2020 at 6:17 PM UTC
by Kim Addonizio
Even when you know what people are capable of,
even when you pride yourself on knowing,
on not evading history, or the news,
or any of the quotidian, minor, but still endlessly apparent
and relevant examples of human cruelty–even now
there are times it strikes you anew, as though
you’d spent your whole life believing that humanity
was fundamentally good, as though you’d never thought,
like Schopenhauer, that it was all blind, impersonal will,
never chanted perversely, almost gleefully,
the clear-sighted adjectives learned from Hobbes–
solitary, poor, nasty, brutal, and short—
even now you’re sometimes stunned to hear
of some terrible act that sends you reeling off, too overwhelmed
even to weep, and then you realize that your innocence,
which you had thought no longer existed,
did, in fact, exist–that somewhere underneath your cynicism
you still held out hope. But that hope has been shattered now,
irreparably, or so it seems, and you have to go on, afraid
that there is more to know, that one day you will know it.
Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 11:30 AM UTC
Because you asked for it I
conjured up magic I
made us our breakfast
Because you asked if this was something I
wanted-- weekend mornings with you
eating at home, feeling family, you
longing like we all hope for, to find the other me
to cook for, to work with side by side thru lunch
to nimble snatches late into the warm night
Because you asked for it I
unweaved our tapestry I
unbounded the Sympathy
drained the alar and cut the threads
that interlaced us to an imagined future
Because you asked for it I
move to be there but you
were already here
hurt, breaking the fast
splintering our finality
with another man's hammer.
Because you asked for it we
lived the long years together
until the children left
and stale taste returned
and the golden years wished
for are spent in separate beds
Because you asked for it our
habituated movements at the Calvinistic
start have transmogrified to a Calvin
& Hobbes' relativism
An alchemy changing holy union
to mundane diaelectrics separating our
storming forces within a
spotless sunshine
You asked for it my mind
to be emptied but still it
blindly seeks us
Mar 3, 2024
Mar 3, 2024 at 1:38 AM UTC