"hogan" poems
To know just where your're going
You must know where you've been
You must respect the history
The things others have seen
It's true in all things relative
Be it music, sports or life
If you don't know where you came from
You're just dancing on a knife
Gherig, Ruth and Robinson
May, and Mantle, Seaver too
Respect their contributions
And don't just say Ruth who?
Respect where things have come from
And the players of the past
Because you learn and make things better
It's what makes the **** game last
Jimmy Foxx, Bob Gibson, Kaline
Nestor Chylak and The Goose
They made baseball special
They gave the game a little juice
Orr, Richard and Gretzky
Gordie Howe and Howie Morenz
You have to know about them
You need the beginning to your ends
Bob Baun and Bill Barilko
Connie Smythe and yeah...the Chief
You have to know their history
They're what it is to be a Leaf
The game has changed immensely
Things can not go back in time
But to me...the old alumni
Made the game I know as mine
Respect the ones before you
The ones who laid the groundwork down
The ones who made it special
The non-pretenders to the crown
Elvis, Buddy, Harrison
Played the songs inside their heart
Lennon, Wilson and the rest
They all played a real big part
Every single generation
should learn from the one before
For if they don't know where they've come from
Then what has it all been for?
Nicklaus, Palmer, Bobby Jones
Sarazen and Hogan too
They pushed the gameright to it's limits
Now the pressure's upon you
The new breed are the teachers now
They're the ones to lead the way
When twenty or so years from now
You'll hear somebody say
"Respect who came before you
The ones who made us so **** proud
LIke Nash and , Perry and Taylor Hall
They played the game so loud
Pudge, Jeter, and Verlander
they brought it up a notch
They were there to stretch the limits
Not to just sit by and watch
Rory, Justin Rose and Mahan
Bubba, Dustin and the rest
They are the players of the future
They all respected the games best
So, to know where you are going
You must know where you have been
Respect, past through the future
And all that's happened in between.
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 4:49 PM UTC
Hare Krishna's
In their Pickups
Depressed Comics
Down on their Luck
Teenage Girls
Screaming Meme's
****** Pinko's*
Leftward Leaning
Vincent Price
Flo and Eddie
Rodger Rabbit
Priscilla Presley
Nuns in Habits
Dwarf's in Ponchos
Deadbeat Dads
Munching Nachos
Right-Wing Nut Jobs
Trading Slogans
A few Hero's
Including Hogan
Are just a few of the sights you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee
Buddhist Monks
With Electric Banjos
Holding Signs Up
Of Marlon Brando
Taxi Cabs
Blaring Show Tunes
Pregnant Women
Down-loading Soon
Derby Jockeys
Flying Monkeys
Kool-Aidholics
Skittle Junkies
Bozo The Clown
Bumper Stickers
Psychedelic
Crazed Toad Lickers
Rhinestone Cowboys
In their Skivvies
Gothic Girls
Heebie Jeebies
Are just a few of the sights you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee
Blue Haired Granny's
In pink Moo Moos
Ballerina's In
Tattered Tutus
Mathematician's
Number Crunchers
Even have Some
Out to Lunchers
Model 50's
*Do *** Daddies*
One More Round Of
Flo and Eddie
People Sneaking
Across the Border
Lonely Fry Cooks
Taking Orders
A Few Wannabes
Not Saying Much
Will The Real Elvis
Please Stand Up
Are just a few of the sights that you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee
Thank you...Thank you very Much
Ladies and Gentlemen
Elvis...Has Left The Building
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 8:59 AM UTC
even teddy said i got the sickest tricks brah.
like my abilities source from some kinda legendary liquid
/ praise the lord /
monster energy should sponsor me.
a kickflip over the king’s *** hole
& a halfcab for the looky-loos.
i feel so tall when i climb that heap of asphalt trimmings
& see clear from the water tower to the bluffs.
gimme a good day, any day at the bluffs,
bottlerockets & girly birds.
her body brings a swarm of worms.
decomp,
said the f.b.i. men one by one with tweezers.
not quite the homecoming queen, still
wrapped in plastic.
look up.
see that great mess of wires, nest of powerlines and owl bones?
it crackles and croons its electro-spectral purr
all night and day.
new neck tat &
cody spends his paycheck on a crossbow.
we target practice on a bull skull.
wet cigarettes and turpentine-soaked socks for a good huff
in the dry of the roofline as it dumps.
there’s that little boy in a ghost mask again, tap-dancing
in puddles below the streetlamp,
& oversized shoes.
his grandmoms always be watchin’ from the window.
[whispers] she’s teaching him magic.
lucky unit 19: where our young dead damsel once dolled
herself up, you see
men and headlights would roll thru thrice nightly,
maybe more.
& i remember her punch red lips &
big whicker hat; while she weeded and watered her garden of begonias.
the sheriff’s deputy, hart? hicks? hogan? well he loved her a bunch.
stole her clothes in the middle of the night,
& sat beside the river sobbing into clumped fists
of bra and blouse.
i bought ******* from that guy once or twice.
harold? howard?
guess who showed his face today?
josiah, from unit 08.
since the incident with molly’s beagle, he’s been rarely seen.
took a bee line straight for the mailbox.
a package. a prize. a decoder ring/secret map sweepstakes
to be seen and deciphered.
Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 1:44 AM UTC
N’díídá!
Wake up, wake up…my son.
Hogan seeing east, great sun greets.
Brave piercing cold, Brave bleeding heat.
Set rezilient mind, see battles won.
Brave flinted rocks, brave metaled beats.
See painful pasts, set your feet lil’ one.
Náás diiná
Walk forward, walk forward…lil’ man.
Look through clouds, look over mountains.
Brave the liquor, Brave the drugs.
Bend blinded minds, see lies to “amen’s”.
Brave minds blinded, brave coward tugs.
Hear the peoples past, set your legs lil’ one
Holzishdę́ díníí’
Look to pasts, look to pasts…fighter young.
Smile sacred stories, smile given songs.
Brave severed cuts, Brave suicidal triggers.
Laugh at tears run, let fierce anger rung.
Brave the useless, brave the claimers.
Sing the creation past, set your fists lil’ one.
T'áá Yedigo Yániłtxi’
Speak up, stand up…my grown spear.
Surprise the eagle, overpower the bear.
Brave the gods, Brave the fearful.
Embrace the night, prepare the gear.
Brave the genocide, Brave the brainwashed.
Break the path, keep slaying their fear.
Keep digging…keep digging pillars of braves.
Feb 24, 2018
Feb 24, 2018 at 12:44 PM UTC
*Remembrance
A dirt blown wind
stings my face as I walk
this dry river bed below the mesa.
It is a barren time of year and
cold, with some snow on the ground.
This is the land of our ancestors,
it calls to me
even though I now live in a larger city
east of Four Corners
and the Four Sacred Mountains.
~~~
It is in the hogan of my Grand Mother’s family
that I am learning the ceremonial dances-
the Blessing Way;
to sand draw the signs
and dance the dance
that can heal the diseases
of the belegana’s hatred
for our traditional ways:
the Ghost Dance of the Sioux;
the Katsina Songs of the Hopi and Zuni;
the Circle Dances of the Cherokee.
~~~
Belegana society teaches our young
the ways of money, alcohol and ****
of scorched earth, casinos
and death.
~~~
I am only a small part People,
my moccasins too new
and still hurt my feet.
And yet, I would willingly sweat out
every ounce of belegana blood
for just one glimpse of seeing
the full moon rising over Big Mountain;
of watching Coyote dancing
to Kokopelli’s flute;
our People happy, in balance
above and below,
no longer forgetful of our Origin Songs.
Aztec Warrior 1.15.16*
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 10:36 AM UTC
it looks like a
striped afghan
but now i'm on
the fourth or so
to me it's just
another set of nights
i'm in stitches
wound and
pulled to hold
me together
three seasons of
hogan's heroes
the first season of
mash (twice)
hair bleached
plus the dog
and three cats
several candles
i'm trying to
keep it together
but it's hard
because every day
is more of why
i can't get it together
pull the string of
emotions together
and let the obsessive
paranoia continue
i don't cry
i stitch.
Jan 17, 2017
Jan 17, 2017 at 10:46 PM UTC
Baseball was my passion
that year when the world
still seemed like a safe place
to hang my hat. Dad was
buying horses left and right
while Mom shook her head
and kept her silence knowing
this was just another one of
his wild-ass hairs that seemed
to get a little crazier each year.
Credence Clearwater Revival
was hot and singing songs
about rain on the radio.
School was out and I would
go over to the creek to swim
after I finished whatever chores
Mom had me doing those days.
Sometimes I would lie on the
Devil's Bed rock next to the
little falls where the biggest
trout liked to feed and listen
to the bugler from the Army
burial detail playing taps for
that days funeral. I wondered
what it would feel like to be
the son of the soldier getting
buried up on the hill having
to wear a suit and not cry. It
always gave me a lump in my
throat. My brother said it was
a shame and Johnson should
be shot instead. I always agreed.
We all watched the nightly news
together after supper and before
Hogan's Heroes came on. The VC
were handing it to our guys in
a place called Hue and Mom cried
when a South Vietnamese officer
pulled out a pistol and BANG
shot that dude in the head
right there in front of god, me,
Mom and everybody. I went to
bed that night and decided that I
wasn't going to pray any more.
We lost every game for the rest
of the season and I didn't care.
I've never forgiven that officer
for shooting that guy dressed
in black right in front of me,
god, my Mom and everybody.
r ~ 6/3/14
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 1:52 PM UTC
"A little nonsense now and then
is relished by the wisest men"
Does anyone still play guilty pleasures?
OKAY!
1. Troll 2 lady.
Too. Fun in Balloonland Narrator lady.
3. "Any" drum majorette.
"Speak roughly to your little boy
and beat him when he sneezes
he only does this to annoy
because he knows it teases."
Fore! Nance Peterlini, shouting obscenities.
"Silk, do you know an atomic trigger from a Balgarian ***** Because I sure don't."
5. Slingshot and P.J. in a swampside threeway.(only halfway guilty...three-quarters?)
"A ****** talking baby alligator, that's purple, and has really big jaws?"
Sicks. Honor and Glory...after Honor gets a nose job.
"Harlem is the experience playground for all people interested in becoming detectives."
7. Wanda Duvalle...tied up...in a shack.
Ate. Lynn, from The Dark Power.
Nine. Colonel Hogan's...Secretary(?)
"I want to stop dreaming about fire from heaven, and melting men. Lasers."
10. Ming the Mercilesses' Daughter.
Apr 15, 2018
Apr 15, 2018 at 9:25 PM UTC
Mother Gaia hears each tiny drum
shudder out of rhythm, then stop.
She gathers fallen wings,
heavy as earth.
These wings are her burden,
the stones she must carry
in the pockets of her daydreams.
Mother collects fish eyes at low tide,
picks through night's deposit of death
on oil-stinking sand.
She fills a fruit jar with eyes,
blind, no matter where they look.
These are the eyes
that allow her to see in water dreams.
Mother is a beautiful bag lady
who collects bleached bones, teeth,
human tongues and turtle shells.
Squirrel tails and rabbit ears
bring a smile to her fingers.
Eagle feathers flutter into her grasp.
Gaia gathers the skins of poets and thieves.
No one knows of Mother Gaia's nights,
where she sleeps,
much less the quilt made of stones and straw
in which she wraps herself, heartsick,
grieving as only a planet can.
She offers herself to the sun each dawn,
a lover she knows will eventually **** her
in his embrace.
*A quote from Frances Phillips in her review of Linda Hogan's "Climbing a Rope Ladder".
Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 12:36 PM UTC
When I little I used to play a few games in my back yard
They have become more real for me lately
And I think that is because you make me feel like a six-year-old again
naive and impressionable and waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I used to play freeze in my friends back yard.
At night we would run around and wait for her security camera
Light to go on
And when it did
You froze.
If you were close enough to the edge of the light
Someone on the outside could pull you back
But if you were in the middle
You were *******
And that's how I feel now
That is how you make me feel
Stuck in the middle, all eyes on me
Except in real life, with you, the light doesn't go back off
It stays on staring at me
Forcing me to rethink every step I ever made.
My best friend and I played a spy game in my back yard
Trying to figure out who the evil master mind was
With our faithful companion
Hogan
The best dog ever.
And I wish I could go back to those days
Where we could make up our own secrets
Instead of hoping the real ones wont get exposed.
Or even better
We now try to uncover real secrets
To expose our enemies for what we believe them to be.
I want to turn into that spy again and figure out
What you are feeling
From the source: your heart
Because I don't think I trust your mouth.
Tag.
Your It.
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 5:47 PM UTC
i hated king kong bundy
for so long
as a kid
for beating up
and hurting
hulk hogan
then i learned it
was fake
and i had
wasted all
this hate
on
nothing
fast
forward
i hated rachel
for so long
as a man
for beating up
and hurting
my heart
then i learned it
was fake
and i had
wasted all
this hate
on
nothing
fast
forward
it got better
i learned how to feel
i understood
what was real
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 3:29 AM UTC
It has been such a Long time since our last incarnation such like reassembly.
We’ve been scrubbing our United States
and leasing places
as scarification and other humans‘ faces
of stories,
to bless or gargle foreign.
We’ve been to the Neptune’s Fountain to find Young Man Hogan’s bench situated within all those loners’ speedy extroversion,
and catch the Saint Petersburg bell that hitchhiked the church there
to make a glimpse of urbanism and the world’s history replaced
by just one journal
and one fella’s pencil
swerving greatly.
Still,
the words are still trying,
flexing,
to fit their whole ends
into shoes they should have taken off
already, a long time ago,
and that‘s this somewhere
where we could say:
crossroads decide their fruition.
And it comes to realisation:
faces,
screens,
bruises,
droppings,
chilling entries,
work,
how I remade the word “naked”of one thousand and one nights
under my tiny silky
cloak
-
it has been nothing but a play
for the day when I’ll write,
and the Life,
that will take on my own skin
one way or another.
One paper corner will meet with the other.
Departures are all eventually just fun geese’s bump in another flight of a night.
Nov 9, 2020
Nov 9, 2020 at 11:01 AM UTC
The timid frozen morning air awakens from sounds of screams and metal car frames...cracking.
The cool lit night star air flashes from the fire burned tires and frigid numbed souls...cursing.
The smoky dust filled air sees tears of hate and bloodied stained floors....of fate.
The cloudy misty saturated air hears bullets striking and lifeless bodies....collapsing.
OH WHERE...have the spirit filled airs, the glittering filled airs, that hozhóogo air gone to?
The green-bluish water feels the sluggish toxic sludge and forgotten people...mitering.
Pure white solid crystals wrap around the intoxicated body, it's courage slowly....mystifying.
The red rock's seeping water blindly poisons the youthful smile and secretly kills...a-mourning.
The raging brown foamed water rushes by the pallet walled hogan and the shivering lil feet...mesmerizing.
OH WHERE...have the dew dressed holy ones, the chanting waters, the life healing and growing waters....gone?
The blowing fine dust creeps through the window seals, witnessing punches to her face and kicks to her chest.
Them dark black coaled rock mesas spot fields below of slow deathed and sugar-filled....people-a-mess.
Round red sun brazen rocks are embraced, by the abandoned lost wondering child...lil-one parentless.
Darkened mountain soil sees the people a-mess, looking up, seeking guidance of hope...restless.
OH WHERE...have the lightning bolted peaks, the strong holy ridges, them keepers of home gone to?
Water drenches the Earth Mother, Winds rage from our Sky Father,
Lights of the Star People shimmer brightly,
Rocky cliff faces begin to shake violently...
"Here We Are!"
The first ones and holy people yell mightingly,
"HERE WE ARRRREEE !!!!!"
Feb 24, 2018
Feb 24, 2018 at 12:48 PM UTC
'You can't have a million-dollar dream with a minimum-wage work ethic.'
-Stephen C. Hogan
Jan 9, 2016
Jan 9, 2016 at 3:10 AM UTC
Transgressions without
Appologies like heavy bricks
Thrown on a stage
Instead of roses
Smell them and remember
Jul 19, 2017
Jul 19, 2017 at 7:25 PM UTC
< >
< O >
< >
# #
///// /////
•••
it's very easy to just let yourself die here you know
-----
The storm
It is always coming over the horizon
•
OINK OINK (the Pig)
OINK OINK (the Pig)
must be Election Season
////
they had a poll picking
the GREATEST MAN OF THE 20th CENTURY
the Winner ?
ADOLF ****** !!!
•
what do " the People " know that the rest of us don't ?
---
# 2 in the poll was
HULK HOGAN
//://
//://
I was # 3
•
If we don't want to die best find a reason to live
///
A REASON TO LIVE !
///
That would really help you know
///
She said
I LIVE FOR THE JOY OF CUTTING MYSELF
AND BLEEDING ALL OVER THE BATHROOM FLOOR
I said
I WAS HOPING FOR SOMETHING A BIT MORE SUBSTANTIAL
////
he had a dream of becoming free
The drifting images of his fellow man
Dancing and turning in his head
His lover lying by his side
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 1:48 PM UTC
Hare Krishna's
In their Pickups
Depressed Comics
Down on their Luck
Teenage Girls
Screaming Meme's
****** Pinko's
Leftward Leaning
Vincent Price
Flo and Eddie
Rodger Rabbit
Priscilla Presley
Nuns in Habits
Dwarf's in Ponchos
Deadbeat Dads
Munching Nachos
Right-Wing Nut Jobs
Trading Slogans
A few Hero's
Including Hogan
Are just a few of the sights you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee
Buddhist Monks
With Electric Banjos
Holding Signs Up
Of Marlon Brando
Taxi Cabs
Blaring Show Tunes
Pregnant Women
Down-loading Soon
Derby Jockeys
Flying Monkeys
Kool-Aidholics
Skittle Junkies
Bozo The Clown
Bumper Stickers
Psychedelic
Crazed Toad Lickers
Rhinestone Cowboys
In their Skivvies
Gothic Girls
Heebie Jeebies
Are just a few of the sights you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee
Blue Haired Granny's
In pink Moo Moos
Ballerina's In
Tattered Tutus
Mathematician's
Number Crunchers
Even have Some
Out to Lunchers
Model 50's
Do *** Daddies
One More Round Of
Flo and Eddie
People Sneaking
Across the Border
Lonely Fry Cooks
Taking Orders
A Few Wannabes
Not Saying Much
Will The Real Elvis
Please Stand Up
Are just a few of the sights that you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee
Thank you...Thank you very Much
Ladies and Gentlemen
Elvis...Has Left The Building
May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 5:46 PM UTC
He was a wrestler but he died and he's gone for eternity.
He was a WWE Hall of Famer and he starred in Rocky III.
He had giant muscles and Hulk Hogan was his name.
He has perished and the WWE will never be the same.
Hogan was one hell of a wrestler and an actor as well.
This man had a terrific career, he was bound to excel.
Hogan had two children, he had a daughter and a son.
We've lost a wrestling icon at the age of seventy-one.
Jul 26, 2025
Jul 26, 2025 at 10:05 AM UTC