"holler" poems
Since Fortnite is incredibly bad,
I turn it off and get real sad.
As I sit there, a thought comes to me,
There's a better game, but it isn't free.
With a forceful tone and a loud holler,
I demand my mom to pay 30 dollars.
She buys the game, it's called PUBG,
The price of this game was worth the fee.
I fight my way to a Chicken Dinner,
I killed 6 men but I'm still a winner.
My mom barged in and yelled at me,
"How dare you game this late," said she.
I said "Sorry Mom," and gave her a shove,
She said "Game, game, game, my love."
Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 11:23 PM UTC
Birds in an open cage
I’m outraged they aren’t outraged
They’re happy to be enslaved
They have the minds of slaves
Chirp, chirp, on demand
when the master commands!
They holler and stomp their feet joyfully.
Insane, like they have pea-sized brains.
They clip off their own wings
They don’t want to be free!
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 5:41 PM UTC
Their whispers
seep through
the wall vents,
the crackle in the phone,
the inch space underneath their bedroom door.
They fake normalcy.
A pair of
spies
devising plans
to deal with
their children,
their belongings,
their money.
I silently holler
the flaw
in their plan.
Fake.
My siblings remain
oblivious, but
I wonder:
Maybe they were always
faking.
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 8:11 PM UTC
My dear friends
Go on and enjoy yourselves
Slumber the morn away!
It seems early on Saturdays
I've always far to much to attempt to convey
While my few kind heart-ed followers
Tend to sleep their mornings hours
Peacefully in and out of REM
While I'm at the computer rhyming again...
It's late
You passed your chance for early waking
Hell you miss out on a great early baking!
And now it's far past time for eggs and bacon
The munches, as you can guess
Have all been forsaken
And what did you achieve
With extra sleep
Morning dreams of distorted thoughts
Poetic themes now subconsciously lost?
I know, I know
You made wonderful love the night before
And you need your beauty rest
I read your writing, I get it
you are so blessed!!!!
I went to bed alone and played
With the thoughts of someone wanting me
I wish my poems could reflect
But all they do is bleed
How I envy all my followers
If I offend
Give me a holler
You've been hanging out late
With a habits to itch
We all have a role to play
Unfortunately
By the time you get around to reading this
I'll either be asleep
Or on my way!
.....
Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 8:35 AM UTC
I went down to the river,
I set down on the bank.
I tried to think but couldn't,
So I jumped in and sank.
I came up once and hollered!
I came up twice and cried!
If that water hadn't a-been so cold
I might've sunk and died.
But it was Cold in that water! It was cold!
I took the elevator
Sixteen floors above the ground.
I thought about my baby
And thought I would jump down.
I stood there and I hollered!
I stood there and I cried!
If it hadn't a-been so high
I might've jumped and died.
But it was High up there! It was high!
So since I'm still here livin',
I guess I will live on.
I could've died for love--
But for livin' I was born
Though you may hear me holler,
And you may see me cry--
I'll be dogged, sweet baby,
If you gonna see me die.
Life is fine! Fine as wine! Life is fine!
5.9k
Happy Holidays
and happy make her holler days
Spreading the holiday cheer
By being naughty this year
That's what Santa feared the most.
Nov 26, 2015
Nov 26, 2015 at 3:59 PM UTC
computers that talk
computers that listen
computers so bright
computers that glisten
computers that accept hand motions
compters that get viruses
computers that lock
computers that make you holler
if your computer was to die
or just run away
what would you do
do you have a clue
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 9:04 AM UTC
iNever Been iN A Relationship With A Human Being.
Only With My Drug,
Crystal ****
IConsidered iT My Lover.
My Baby, My World My Everything. iFell inlove With A Substance,
Felt So Real.
Created A Strong Bond
That Seemed unbreakable We Were unseperable.
This Stimulant Kept Me Away From Reality And Everything in it.
Blocked Me
From Having An Actual Boyfriend and Catching
True Loving Feeling.
iWas Blinded By These False Euphoric Feelings.
A Rush Like iF ive Accomplished A Hundred Things.
iWas Concentrated And Focused On Getting High And
Just living The Addict life.
That iHad No intrest At 16 Towards Boys or having a love life.
My Mind Was Just Set On The Streets And Dope Game,
Riskful Missions And Hanging With Friends. Guys Would Holler,
But id Give No interest.
Just Me And My Drug iS All That Mattered.
Throughout My 3rd Time iN Rehab, My Neighbor Would Call.
A Guy Friend.
Daily Conversations, Laughs And giggls, something so rare and unexperienced.
As iBegan To Recover & Emotions Started To Untie,
iBegan To Feel Some Strange feelings ive never experienced 1st hand.
Once iGraduated My program. We Communicated More,
I liked This, i liked him.
Was Hard To believe that after all he knew about me?
He was into me to.
My supporter, My Friend This Guy Became My 1st Boyfriend <3
041314
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 9:52 AM UTC
The television blares, it blinks, it shakes
A cup falls out of the cabinet, it flies, it jumps
They shatter.
Someone's banging on the door, they scream, they holler
She's laughing in your ear, a witch-like cackle
Ha-ha-ha That's all she's says, that's all she does
You keep your head facing forward, don't dare to look around
It's all madness, the footsteps on the ground
Who's creeping down the stairs, you didn't have guests
Who opened the window, who made such a mess?
The laughing
The constant laughing like chimes, it intensifies
Cold sweat, warm tears,
Your body is paralyzed in face of your greatest fears
Do it! Punch a wall, kick a desk!
But sweetie, there is no time for rest.
We must go, we must hurry!
They're almost here!
Who? You feel dizzy. Not another surprise please, I beg you, not another.
The room starts spinning, the ceiling circles you like a volchar.
The small man, with the elf-like features, he's tugging your arm
He's pulling you, as she laughs with such insanity your stomach churns.
Who are these people, what is this hell
A piercing scream is released into the air,
You believe it was your own, but with all the creatures yelling in your ear, you can't be certain.
The noises crank up, the objects fly off the walls
The TV changes from loud channel to channel, from voices to white noise
This is the worst, this is the peak
But suddenly it all stops with a screech.
The tv is in its place, normal channel, normal news
All the items are in their spot, all organized, all unused
There is no laughing. There is no man. There are no footsteps. There is no pulling hand.
But it was all there. You know it was.
Silence. Eery silence.
Now you're left in the confusion of your own mind.
But perhaps you've been there the whole time.
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 11:02 PM UTC
Got lost in the longing,
Daydreaming farewells,
That train whistle holler,
The smell of motels,
Familiar with strangers,
Sacrifice morning light,
My strongest convictions,
Now too weak to fight,
Dear broken romantics,
Sweet Hollywood eyes,
Find peace in invention,
Deceitful disguise,
Come cold revelation,
An end drawing near,
Speak slow of salvation,
Too softly to hear,
The darkest conclusions,
Stealing your air,
Your daughter beside you,
Your wife’s empty chair,
A hospice hotel room,
That low trumpet sound,
My dad on my shoulder,
A rose on the ground,
Still learning to lose you,
Without letting go,
Turn sorrow to saplings,
Let new forests grow,
Just remember the laughter,
Your voice in my ear,
That music still playing,
Too softly to hear.
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 5:53 PM UTC
You should do this,
You should do that,
Why these diktats I do not understand.
Are we living our life to comply?
Are not we here to supply.
Why we are to be part of some creed,
When in reality we all are from the same seed.
We are stuck in a whirlpool of sanctions,
And I do not know how to come out of this expansion.
Expectations are defining our life more than existence do,
And the biggest question humanity is asking
what should I do?
We are blaming history for our misconceptions,
Naming presumptions as The inceptions.
How we are going to move ahead,
When we are becoming a body with just a head,
Shedding our humanity for a mere piece of bread.
We are the creation and creators of our world,
All of us is an existence a real thing,
Our creativity is our ability to think.
Then why should we be like someone,
When we could be anyone.
I want to holler out at the world with this answer
Yes, we can
Because we are not endowed with a taste
We have a whole Selection.
Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 2:43 AM UTC
The poem that I'd never write..
The kind of poem that'd show me in a different light.
I scoff at Benja F bills
Women come and go,
I be popping pills that make the world turn slow.
I yolo ********
Holler at team swag,
Money and the *******
Tell her throw it in the bag..
That's the kind of poem that I'd never write.
The kind of poem where I ****** everyone in sight.
I keep it real hood.
Gangster all day.
Look me the wrong way,
Dead body in the hallway.
You don't want no problems,
I'm strapped like Velcro,
Dummy I don't play no games, Nintendo.
This made little sense,
something wasn't right.
This is the kind of poem I would never ever write.
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 9:36 PM UTC
Verse 1 (Honey *******
***** I'm Honey ******* bout to bring em some pain.
All my haters like a choir, they all singin my name.
Ain't got a heart for a broad that's the rule of the game.
Now you a fool if you aim.
Ill put a tool to ya brain.
I'm bout to get it and spend it.
If I said it, I meant it.
#FuckYoFeelings. Taste my weapon.
Act like a ***** Ill raise your blessings YOW
You are not familiar with me.
If you come makin a move, ***** yo visitor me
Verse 2 (Tyga):
Its that drop top phenom chop.
All gold rolly top.
**** yo fans, **** a cop.
All my ******* Betty bop.
Betty boop, ******* out.
Gangsta **** punch you in yo mouth.
***** I don't know what you talkin bout.
Flossin now you need dentist now Augh AUGH
**** around and Rodney King the beat.
Bout that war like Vietnamese.
Feelin froggy ***** leap.
I'm that ***** you obsolete.
I'm in that game you know P-T
R-E-C My Swa A-G. Only way you copying me ***** Augh
Verse 3 (Honey *******
Asian ***** on another degree.
Give me some space, move out my place, ***** I'm just tryna breath.
Now if you, see me around your way don't holler at me.
I just can't waste all my time cuz I be eatin these beats.
Listen you rats here just a captain me.
You ain't me homie you just act like me.
Well you should watch yo actions please.
Cuz there might be some casualties Augh augh
They about to witness it. Last Kings but I'm still on my Queen **** SCHWAG
Verse 4 (Tyga):
Aim aim at yo membrane just for sayin
I'm insane and your girl give me neck, Hang man.
I ain't playin, I never did lie.
Lay around and open yo thighs
****** gon pop like fish gonna fry
Nggas talkin greasy like the sh*t got slide WOW
High 5. Clap yo face. Change yo disguise, I work hard for the money. Money don't ever come in yo life.
A ******* right. When you lie, everybody wanna be just like.
Middle finger to the middle of yo eyes.
Young young Ty T-Raw need a Heisman Aaaahh
Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 12:06 PM UTC
Okay, the only one has been hiding their racism were whites.
Trying to blend into society with others because employers require a get along attitude.
Go to a bank and instantly you know the hiring schemes.
And this any community.
Same, with certain restaurants you attend.
It's the blend that point the management comfortability out.
White flight, existed because the "fearful" can't adjust to a changing society.
History has shown this.
And they have created it.
Jim Crow's laws weren't created by blacks.
Asians placed in America concentration camps wasn't their idea.
And these were American citizens.
History presently has shown that the new "pick on" group is the Latin communities.
They MS13 or this or that.
Many white businesses must be enjoying their employment keeping them in business.
For in many big cities they building the complexes and hotels, and sidewalks.
History has shown when it comes to justice they the first to try to scheme out of their crimes.
But quick to holler about locking up criminals until it's them.
History has shown when investigating wickedness in government.
They lead the pack.
Then this is just an opinion.
And no way connected to alternative facts.
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 11:35 AM UTC
a play date for us
Your serious eyes
i know You just
want this prize
trying to find a way
to make me play?
suckin' on my neck
while i try to deflect
rubbin' on my belly
tryin' to get me ready
hot lips on my shoulder
yea..
making me bolder
damn..Your hands on my collar
hot breath on my ear
i need to holler
You Ssh... nothing to fear
using all Your senses
those commands You speak
to break my defenses
oh ****
i'm so **** weak
and..delicious thoughts
i'm having about You
about rope, around me
one, two maybe three?
lets do a scene
You can tie me high
beautiful knots down low
squeezing my pie
i think You know
We have a code
You know the rule
i bring the fire
You own the fuel
Your voice makes me melt
and whats that scent?
is that your finger i just felt?
please...WTF? i just heard
my ***** what?
take me...
**** the safe word!
ive loss all control
i should explain
a play date with You
is delicious pain
Summer
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 1:07 PM UTC
There's a sharp frosty switchback that never sees the sun in winter
skies of blue. The frost heave cut-bank rocks tumble down to the
side of the road, in the ice shard mottled ditch lay frozen stiff
Tall Sitka spruce marbled gray shadows mat the sparsely traveled
corridor, paved with potholes, where the roads have no names
Sometimes listening quietly to the bare stillness, there are
rhetorical questions heard in the silent reverie's say:
"Have you ever been afraid?"
The tree-line gaps above the jagged gray stone ravine, disappearing
down the rugged mountain shade, falling into the pillow-top fog bank blanketing the canyon's murmurs below — headed towards the ocean
Crystalline spring waters gurgle up roadside — out of nowhere,
where tired boots stand in reverent contemplation as it all sings out harmoniously to the trees in the key of silence; it was there
in a gust of restless forbearance heard the frozen peacefulness say:
"Have you ever felt alone?"
Gathering a deep breath of marbled gray shadows, silence bears
a loud holler's scorn — echoing back and forth down canyon walls,
with the spirit of a voice a multitude strong, evanescent
as winter's outgoing tide.
January 2019 — Jesse Stillwater
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 6:19 PM UTC
Corduroy
by far
is the sexiest fabric
Zipper wisp you thighs a bit faster
You cat-call of body language
I wanna hear you coming
You are not a denim ******
Not cotton soft
My hands are rough
Let me feel your texture
Of parallel lines that go all the way up
Let me lose your button
You can find it later
Keep your innocence like that bear
In that children’s book you might read
To your own kids someday
Corduroy is ugly
So are we
Has texture
So do we
Is made from finely twisted fibers
Like DNA
Corduroy makes me sweat
Literally
And figuratively
If
We were trapped under a blanket of it
And could not tell the difference between
Scar tissue and fabric
Hair and fabric
I will have to bite you to notice the difference
Unless you holler like corduroy
A sound you could beat me with
Then we would just be a transcendental blanket
Of
This should be burned later
So
When I tell you
I think you’re **** like corduroy
It’s a compliment
Apr 7, 2012
Apr 7, 2012 at 4:03 PM UTC
lord
they say
of that home overhead
is beauty rapturous
but the interred
holler a song
showing gold to be lead
for his might is rancorous
thought that allure captures still
for when have the greedy had their fill
not in this life
not in the next
for the fearful are still afraid
and will be still, when down they're laid
despite their fight
the sickly go too
for all their bated breaths
could not help in their deaths
that fed the soil what hungered so
going silently
into that goodnight
Jul 1, 2021
Jul 1, 2021 at 2:00 PM UTC
We proposed for Witches Abroad on Broadway, a costume.
As a lure to students, orange and black candy.
Dancing at the prom, cell phones caught the ghouls.
This stretch of road was full of cool cats.
Unlucky ones were left on the side as skeletons.
We swept them clear with our broomsticks.
Our guns were not as brutal as broomsticks.
Bristles hid the ******* end, as if in costume,
No flesh, just skeleton.
Like bags of orange and black candy,
They were left, full of calico cat.
Our familiars, our friends, dinner for a ghoul.
They pulled at the ghoul,
In the hands of a witch, danger came by broomstick,
When ghouls snacked on cat,
In their orange and black fur costume,
Tasting sweet, like candy.
They beat them up and down, but they find another skeleton.
Them ghouls come faster, giving birth to others, another skeleton.
Vocalizing desire for black and white, red and yellow make orange, a ghoul,
Howls for student flavored candy.
A witch lays out one, then another with her broomstick,
Removing the face mask and costume.
Them that can, holler their outrage in cat.
Your *** was revealed in orange and black on a calico cat.
Females cooled themselves of *** unwilling mates to a skeleton.
Once alive, copulating loudly, now in a death costume.
Walking upright, a neighborhood was destroyed by a ghoul.
Neighbors watched, a witch patrolled on a broomstick.
Your students were seen as human candy.
One wife beater had a juicy rind, sweet and soured candy.
At the dance, hors d’oeuvres were made of cat.
Shot forward, it can create a hole, can a broomstick.
Where stomachs used to be, a skeleton,
Death conquers all, no more ghoul.
One, now many properly attired for the Danse Macabre in costume.
I found an orange, as broomsticks cleaned Broadway of cat candy.
In my student costume and human face mask, my path is crossed by a cat.
It disappeared as if it never was, visible only to Death, a skeleton made by ghoul.
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 7:43 PM UTC
The best mistake I ever made
Was opening that tattered black book
There I sat in a pub
On a mission to forget the world
6 or 7 drinks in
and a bartender all to happy
To pour what ever the roulette produced
thumb, thumb, flip
flip flip
Stop
Category is shots
To the new friend next to me
"why yes, I am to get **** faced"
"oh, you came here for just an occasion"
"well dear sir if you are brave enough next ones on me"
"Hot **** he exclaimed
As I close my eyes and say a silent prayer
I slowly count 4 pages
and place my finger on the page
I call Gwendolyn over and request
With eyes closed the item of my demise
***
She cried
"I love ya but I won't do that to you"
I slurily open my eyes and focus
MEXICAN BLACK JACK
1 part tequila
2 parts whiskey
151 floater
"Double Shot"
I think out loud
whats a lil' ta'kill-ya?
vhiskey? bah.
151 it's just a floater ppppssssshhhhhhh
After a few minutes of convincing
With many a hoot and holler
From my new friends
She takes my keys and reluctantly agrees
Even kindly offers me a chaser and some limes
I will not forsake the liquor gods
Ever get a whiff of turpentine and diesel?
Well that could be gardenias compared to this.
I sit in silence sniffing it
eyes closed lapping at it with my nostrils
I look over at my new buddy
"well chuckles it's now or never ready for this lil' endeavor?"
"Well **** he muttered "I'm a man of my word"
"to life" I exclaimed
head back as that little bit of ******
started it's course
over my tongue into the throat
(why are my sinus' burning?)
don't breath boy
(you know better)
don't
you
eyes pop
and just on cue
flame ever rendering flames
I'm not blind
I'm not blind
I'm not blind
ok I was just squinting
really hard
I look over and my new friend
is now drinking my free chaser.
my game my pain...
Hey Sven leh's go again...
It's a good thing she loves me
I complain to no one
if she hated me I don't think I'd drink here.
2
hours and
4
shots later
I needed a nap good thing the loo was warm
I salute you Sir BlackJack and when I call your name
It's never in vain
Mar 14, 2010
Mar 14, 2010 at 11:56 PM UTC
I should've known from the first ride,
that I would be falling fast.
I should've felt it from my first fall,
that your show must go on.
I should've known from the first rodeo,
that should've been the last.
I should've felt it from my first trot,
that I'm better off riding alone.
I should've known you couldn't choke the horn,
but you were all but a yellow-belly.
I should've watched how you 'let her rip',
yet a horse is all of my riches.
I should've believed you don't want no cahoot,
but I rode for you 'til dawn while hungry.
I should've watched you ride to the sunrise,
yet I am left chasing sunsets.
But I am still the greatest,
with or without a lily liver cahoot.
I am the best, from east to west,
a taste from my lips would prove it's true.
I am the lone star that shines the brightest,
with or without your hat on, you'll be blinded.
I am all of the gold that they all rush to,
the legend they call 'light at the end of the tunnel'.
You should be sorry, oh you should be sad,
all you would be is a runaway robber.
Because I could've been your brokeback god
now I would be everything but your lover.
I put my hat down to say sorry for being your bandit,
Now I ride to where the lights would welcome me,
far away from all the grime, dirt and strife
They all cheer and whistle and holler my name,
while you weep that your whole life,
let alone your morning rides will never be the same.
Jul 15, 2023
Jul 15, 2023 at 11:15 AM UTC
Mama off into the rain soaked skies I now look
My little eyes and heart hurt, as I do peek.
Beyond, beyond the rainbows and fairy books
Mama my pony rides alone, it's another I seek.
Mama paint me a little sister so we can play
Cowboys and Indians, I'm a big man.
She'll need my cowboy boots and hat if she may
Hoop and holler on pony as fast as she can.
Mama do you hear the raindrops fall from the sky
And see the loneliness swell on my face.
Do you see the emptiness in your babies eyes
Yearning for a little cup cake of grace.
Mama please be my artist and add color to my days
Such ribbons of sparkles giving my pony a lift.
I'm only three, praying for you to bring joy my way
Mama, when your tears go away can I open my gift.
Logan Robertson
10/14/17
Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 10:53 PM UTC
When I was younger
I slept in the top bunk
over my older brother
- Pretty soon we’re all going to die -
he was fond of saying
while we listened to Credence
Clearwater Revival on an old turntable
with a penny he taped to the arm
to make it sound like a $100
Pretty soon he got me saying the same
words, like moon, mosquitos and darkness
were in his ear, he’d have dreams of
naked women washing his feet
and sparrows looking out of his eyes
He hollered at old man death
when he was wanting some shuteye
- Nobody on earth is like me -
he’d wake up shouting not meaning
to disturb my sleep
He said - I am the white piano
they threw off the bridge -
- the snake bed and the shade tree -
- I am something, yes-sir-eee -
- I’m something not everybody wants
to believe - he’d say sipping on whiskey
bought from a woman up the holler
He told death to - kiss his white *** -
then holler at me to get out of bed
and go trim the grass around the stone
angels planted up in the high pasture.
Dec 1, 2018
Dec 1, 2018 at 10:21 PM UTC