"holliday" poems
"Dear Mama",
Question...
"Is life worth living or should I blast myself"
I'm always searching for those "better days"
knowing that peace in my heart will come In "Thugs Mansion".
Where I can "sip champagne
while I listen to Billy Holliday sing
and sit there kickin it with Malcolm till the day came."
Should I "ride on my enemies"?
Become one of "Amerikas most wanted"?
Or should I remember
that "the road is hard so I'll never give up"?
And "time don't stop, always going by.
So I'll puff on mine, hoping that it will get me high"
Smile for me.
"Won't you smile for me now"?
"It ain't easy" being a changed man
so when it feels like "all eyez on me".
I just remember that
"heaven ain't hard to find".
But I'm Not starving, I been eatin Hardy,...like the night at that "Gangsta Party"....
Certain things happen, I wana be happy so I have to make some arranges... Hopin in my life I have the ability to 1 day make those "Changes"...
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 12:01 PM UTC
Gramophone records play
Scratch, play, scratch, play
Soft in the background, edging into me
Slow and easy, gentle waves.
Granny, play me La Wally again
Turning, spinning, round and round
Take me away on audio-pearls
Peace whirls me on a magic dance.
Pappa, hide the ugly monsters
Keep me safe in Noddy and Pat tales
I'd rather be caught in merry tune
Than in webs of yonder folk out there.
Momma, put on Golden Slumbers
"Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry,
And I will sing a lullaby"
Yes, I find my way homeward...
Gramps, sing me a Holliday song
The kind that lifts one so high
With Mammy and Pappy blessing all of me
Yes my happiness, I've got me own!
Dear Heaven, open windows and walls
Swirling, flowing its beautiful energy
Sore needed peace and beauty
That no eye can truly see.
Star Toucher, 02 March 2013
Mar 2, 2013
Mar 2, 2013 at 11:06 AM UTC
We are the forgotten ones
The ones who can articulate
beyond the guns and knifes.
We don't need a beat
Our word flow through emotionally.
We are here to capture and decipher minds
Teach them all those things school has left behind
How history is only written by the victor
How there's more to blacks than Rosa Parks, Malcolm X and Martin Luther King Jr's his..tory.
Let's not leave out the truth.
Poets stand up, fight for the youth.
We share our truth about love
Let's share the truth about knowledge
Forget the cliches of if life gives you lemons make lemonade.
We freed ourselves from the British.
Then enslaved Africa and made them forget who they were.
Only of Britain would had thought of that first.
Let's not sugar coat the past
Let's control the present and the future.
Poets stand up
We are the symphonies of hip hop, rap and r&b;
We are the class.
We are the Billy Holliday and Marvin Gay of this new era.
Like the fitted cap we fit snugg.
Poets stand up.
**** speaking on unicorns and rainbows
The sunny side of the chi.
Just last night my Lil man's got shot by the cops.
I use to say he was my son
Now I plan his funeral with his mom.
Poets stand up
Bloods, crips, gangsters, thugs re unite as the black panthers.
Poets stand up!
Poets stand up!
As they say ok ok your 15 seconds of fame Is up. No more from you today Mr. Ananymous.
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 5:57 PM UTC
Dear Mama,
Is life worth living or should I blast myself?
I'm always searching for those better days
knowing that peace on earth will come. In Thugs Mansion.
Where I can sip champagne
while I listen to Billy Holliday sing
and sit there kickin it with Malcolm till the day came.
Should I ride on my enemies?
Become one of Amerikas most wanted?
Or should I remember
that the road is hard so I'll never give up?
And time don't stop, always going by.
So I'll puff on mine, hoping that it will get me high.
Smile for me.
Won't you smile for me now?
It ain't easy being a changed man
so when it feels like all eyez on me.
I just remember that
heaven ain't hard to find.
Nov 2, 2010
Nov 2, 2010 at 10:16 PM UTC
It's ninety degrees in the shade back home
And September brings no relief I fear
From sweating and fretting, oh, no, let's go-
We'll be riding on the Rocky Mountaineer
Expecting the best, we heard the "All aboard!"
To the sound of bagpipes whining
Longing to see mountains, trees and streams
But it's for sighting of bears that I'm pining
The meals keep coming-no one stays hungry
With our hostess, Holliday, we haven't a care
By the end of the day we spied osprey, geese and ducks but
When pulling into Kamloops, no one had spotted a bear
A walkabout, then sleeping so deeply
Whisked back on board by our competent crew
I remembered my dream of a bear in a stream
With her cubs-how I wish it comes true
The Monashee Mountains are so peaceful
We spy snow-capped peaks from afar
The leaves on the trees changing gold and red
But rolling into Tumtum still no bear
Soon we crossed the Columbia River
Salmon tantalizing eagles for a bite
While passing through the town of Revelstoke
A family of bears-all plastic-came in sight
"Look out!" came a call from the front of the train
A signal to us who pulled up the rear
We "Red Line" passengers ready with cameras
A false alarm-no bear or moose is near
The Selkirk Mountains promise some glaciers
And Stonycreek Bridge is followed by lunch
The Kicking Horse River showed spirit it's true
But no bears will show up is my hunch
And so surely to see that elusive bear of my dreams
I'll just have to return come next year
Til then I will dream salmon-filled mountain streams
And the all-aboard call of the Rocky Mountaineer
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 12:54 PM UTC
i pay you back for your lack of attention with well aimed selfies at other men
snapchat carrying them faithfully across the pixelated airways
no evidence for you to find.
in the end, i resent everyone i love
for every opportunity that i stayed silent about what i really wanted
i resent them for my own flaws.
my quietness, my need to please.
i make myself a dog, and they pet my ego
just enough to keep me from leaving.
the curse of a fat stomach,
arms,
thighs,
attributes of a fat ***
they can keep me in my place because i do not believe i am deserving
i've been taught that well,
but instagram makes me brave.
there are other girls like me
i stand on the foundation of the horror and humiliation they endure
in the hope of a better future
less fuckboys
less degradation
more equality
for my
fat
***
how much longer will i believe i have to put up with less than what i deserve
because i am lucky someone wants to **** me at all?
i don't think it will be long.
decades of socialization taught me to beg for every scrap
from a table laid for girls much thinner than i
but the tables are turning
resetting
rearranging
the playing field
is changing
fat is okay
fat is pretty
fat is normal
fat is just like anyone else
i just want to be treated
like everyone
else.
Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 1:20 PM UTC
i'm your huckleberry
yes, I'm coughing blood
the glass is broken
death is smiling while kissing my tongue
i'm your huckleberry
the white devil on the black horse
play a game with me
and you can fall as well
barely a problem
worth a listen to tell
we can laugh together
in a bar in hell
i'm your huckleberry
this time drinks are on me
i'm not angry at you
in eternity we'll have time to see
we were always friends
who only had fun being enemies
this time you can trust me
I'm your huckleberry
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 4:09 AM UTC
There is this girl
cat lanky long
hair geometric and black
love right angular
There is this girl
moonlight faint
baby talking the plants
and they die
There is this girl
a burning in the throat
the sensation of something coming up
Acid reflux
There is this girl
who came back
and then left
There is this girl
twitching wet and frayed on the sheets
smoldering electric breaker trip
Coughing
There is this girl
licentiously staring at me
over the steering wheel
through the windshield
across the hood
racing the engine
black, black tire smoke
smiling
There is this girl
here on a holliday
a week long, all inclusive
get away
There is this ******* girl
wavy and swirling through the tears, still
There is this dog
two cats
no three
a lot of **** cats
there are these other dogs
There is this house
that felt like home
just once
There was this lady
who forgot her name
and got lost in the bathroom
I’m the man
not enough
Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 11:39 AM UTC
Way down south
beneath the line
where stories muddle up
with time
there are some trees
leaves of green
and flowers white
decorate the
southern night
from these trees
branches marked
but not by time
burned out by
jute and knotted twine
from these trees
close your eyes
and think when
these trees
were weapons of the men
these trees
nothing grows
out from the root
of these trees
no strange fruit
on these trees
once the fruit
that hung up here
filled many folks
with mortal fear
of these trees
not apples, pears
grow here today
and no strange fruit
of Billie Holliday...
grow on these trees
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 5:16 PM UTC
This boy, my boy that went away
Couldn’t make myself allow him to stay
He was the burn to my fire that caused my pain
The percipitation in the clouds that caused the rain
Here oh now
My heart reach lack
He was the one I gave everything to
But the one that never gave back
Allowed in my cries
Yet no one could hear
This boy comes back like a Holliday each year
The ******* and seize
In an old weary soul
So my mind won’t cease
to leave me alone
The blood in my veins
He reveled within
The one who has always
Cause me to sin
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 2:22 PM UTC
absolutes always die
we get afraid
that they're everywhere
but life comes along each way
with compromise
by the way of wings
something like wasp wings
filling our fields and shoes
making us walk away
from bliss
like we would death
or the smell of it
what places the leather back
and makes everything smell
like best quality skin
is the knowledge
that
half love gets tired
much earlier than all this
it
can’t learn the steps
it’s happier to stumble away
than towards
the noose dances instead
and tightens
a lil harder
a lil fuller
knowing where to break its neck
before compromise mumbles
in silence
long before
we sing.
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 8:14 PM UTC
7/14/2015
"I mean I just don't get excited
anymore, you know?"
but even that
statement drains all the life out of me,
grabs a spot in my ribs, twists it, pulls it out like a dandelion ****
I decide walking on 3rd avenue in
a Brooklyn neighborhood that I don't
need energy anymore
or, I've been doing well with the scant
supplies I have of it.
The day before, blow dried hair sticking to my neck because the windows are locked,
I had listened to the radio
Billie Holliday: oh lover man where can you be?
I know **** well where mine is,
unfortunately across the hudson
but I think I am happy for him because
any sane person would be otherwise in
princeton after a while
I count and recount the oaks and pines outside my house and the cardinals and bluejays and mocking birds, try to find something, don't find it,
Read a book, and I yell to myself:
"'That’s funny! there’s blood on me.'
- Frank Ohara."
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 11:08 PM UTC
Welcome, my young friend
Wishing you a wonderful day
With respect to my old friend
Wishing loneliness goes away
Hello, my little friend
Have fun at school
or on your Holliday
You are all like a blue bay
That bay is full of dreams
Today is better than others
Have a good time, my friends
I hope, you enjoy it always…
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 1:22 AM UTC
i tried to fit into
that kettle corn
bag he held in
his hand, to no
avail, if he liked
pork buns I would
be a fruit ****
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 1:41 PM UTC
Even Doc Holliday had one friend
I don't even have one someone who'd pretend
Or one that's pretend
Maybe it's my fault, I am noticing a common thread
But what do I even matter, what does it even matter in the end?
©2024
Jan 21, 2024
Jan 21, 2024 at 11:01 PM UTC
Every second of every hour, my heart lays heavy as thoughts of you race through my mind,
Oh my son how I am missing you.
Hours turn into days, days into weeks, never a moment passes by, I try to chase a happy thought visioning your beautiful smile, it never lasts long enough and once again I cry, Oh son I'm Missing You.
Hearing your voice on the phone is a blessing every time, I never let you know that when we speak your voice tells it all. I can read you like a book just by your tone. Some days I hear a young man grown up so much but other days I can hear your pain and sense your fear and I know how bad you wish you were home. Oh my son I'm Missing you .
Every Holliday is sad for me as I know it is for you. Sweet baby boy of mine, two years have passed, it seems like forever since I've seen you. If we can just hold on a little longer, this uphill battle we've been on is on the down hill side of over. My Sweet Boy God only knows How Much Your Momma is Missing You..
Apr 1, 2018
Apr 1, 2018 at 4:36 AM UTC
We dreamed until we would die.
My father still holding his whiskey
My mothers sloppy forgiveness.
The kitchen roaring and swaying
Louder then bottle rockets Screaming across the restless suburbs.
For one nite we faded like a universe of
Creation. For one nite we came back like comets predictable yet unforgettable.
For one nite we didnt scream.
For one nite we lit up the world.
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 12:53 AM UTC
The Eve of Christmas and not one gift here to see,
The First Time in my life on Christmas I haven't put up a tree.
What am I becoming, someone I don't even know.
Not a light of twinkling or even a soft glow.
Christmas has always been my favorite holliday, up until this year.
So many things have changed, ive lost my Christmas cheer.
No kids to play santa for, they are all grown.
The Holliday I once loved I now spend all alone.
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 4:59 AM UTC
I fell hard for the head of that Isaac
(note the gravity of my event).
Over Tombstone I soared, on the winds of the Lord
Until Holliday’s bullets were spent.
Floating iceberg, I challenged Titanic
Single raindrop, got lost in the storm;
Genghis Khan’s mongol horse had ideas, of course
Stalin’s mommy kept baby Joe warm . . .
Perspectives from lesser-known players
May improve the morale of the team;
But a view from the edge of the forty-fifth ledge
Will compel true progressives to scream!
Have you noticed the wave on that wizard,
Washingtonian mage of the West?
You may dislike his ways, but it’s only a phase;
Now admit it; his hair is the BEST.
He’s the Cheeto in charge of your nation
Chief constructor of all that is Great.
Though you’re peeved at your loss, Mr. Drumpf is the boss
And there’s no more excuse for your hate.
I’m the roof on Melania’s husband
Call me carrot-top, call me toupée . . .
You can whine all you want, but I’m here to be blunt:
I’m the night after Democrat day.
I’m the hair on your wonderful leader
Driving liberals mad—and beyond.
The Deplorable’s turn: feel the heat, feel the burn;
Oh hilarious orange! (No . . . blonde.)
Apr 18, 2019
Apr 18, 2019 at 6:27 PM UTC
If only hearts are deathless
And nothing much is true
I'll feed this old black dog
with honeycomb and send him home to you.
The moon is smeared on a glistening street
and orphans dance to a staggering beat
Like the clattering crawl of a boxcar.
I'm watching from the harbor, as ships cast off for the briney blue
And I find myself in that desperate hour
When I imagine that you wonder if I ever think of you
The shoreline is tilting like a drunk. As the stars fill up the tarry bay. The silence like a tubeless hymn, that fills me with a ragged glow.
I'll lay these tired bones on a bed of apple crates
And behind the lids of these sleep-drunk eyes
I'll swim the deep with a woman with eyes like wine and sparrow tongues
and memories of you
So put on your bracelet of coral and bone and your crown of fireflies.
Let me see you dance though the mirror of ice that stole the last glimpse I had of you.
Now I will dance like the pain is a skin I have shed
And sealed in a crackling vinyl shell
Like a Billy Holliday tune in a dark empty room, or my tears at the foot of the bed.
Apr 27, 2019
Apr 27, 2019 at 8:24 AM UTC
Roy Nyers
Donald Byrd
Stanley Turrentine,
Wayne Shorter
McCoy Tyner,
Frank Sinatra,
Billie Holliday,
Gene Ammons,
Some I want to listen to
Like
Clark Terry,
Art Farmer,
and Yusef Lateef.
Jun 12, 2018
Jun 12, 2018 at 1:19 PM UTC