"hortons" poems - Hello Poetry

I saw you in Tim Hortons for the first time in three years. You told me I had grown and I congratulated on you on your weight loss. She is my best friend. You didn't raise a child, You raised an ironwork frame. You threw a girl into reality before she could even spell the word. And I would love to look at the other side, but I can't— it always loops back around like that little girl doing circles around on her ten-speed as she pulls up to the convenience store to buy you cigarettes. Hey, at least you called her an ambulance— On Thanksgiving Day when she passed out from lack of nutrition because you spent your last welfare check on something I don't even want to hear your excuse for. I remember my mother, coming into my room at eleven pm on a Wednesday, telling me to put some shoes on because you snapped a pool cue and placed it to a guy's neck. My pajama pants ripped as I broke into your apartment to wake my best friend up and tell her that my mom was parked outside and she had to spend the night at my house. You spent the night in the drunk tank hitting on officers. She spent the night beside me crying and asking for any other mother but you. We were in grade 6. When she was 13, she had to live with me for 3 months because social services deemed you, "unstable." When she was 14, she moved away to the city because she couldn't handle you anymore. I went to visit her last weekend and she didn't say a single word about you.

0

Mar 28, 2013

Mar 28, 2013 at 1:49 AM UTC

september

To My Best Friend's Mother.

I saw you in Tim Hortons for the first time in three years. You told me I had grown and I congratulated on you on your weight loss. She is my best friend. You didn't raise a child, You raised an ironwork frame. You threw a girl into reality before she could even spell the word. And I would love to look at the other side, but I can't— it always loops back around like that little girl doing circles around on her ten-speed as she pulls up to the convenience store to buy you cigarettes. Hey, at least you called her an ambulance— On Thanksgiving Day when she passed out from lack of nutrition because you spent your last welfare check on something I don't even want to hear your excuse for. I remember my mother, coming into my room at eleven pm on a Wednesday, telling me to put some shoes on because you snapped a pool cue and placed it to a guy's neck. My pajama pants ripped as I broke into your apartment to wake my best friend up and tell her that my mom was parked outside and she had to spend the night at my house. You spent the night in the drunk tank hitting on officers. She spent the night beside me crying and asking for any other mother but you. We were in grade 6. When she was 13, she had to live with me for 3 months because social services deemed you, "unstable." When she was 14, she moved away to the city because she couldn't handle you anymore. I went to visit her last weekend and she didn't say a single word about you.

23

and now here i am writing poetry about you in tim hortons i've sunk this low may as well keep going extend the metaphor except we are not symbolic we are real or at least my mind thinks we were and i'm usually right so who are you to say i'm wrong? except you didn't you just didn't say anything and that's what makes me think i should be somewhere else somewhere other than this table growing green with moss and envy bending over time and time again to pick up that lucky penny polishing it off and adding it to my pocket saving up for another drink so i can buy more time waiting around for another chance encounter with you that i know won't amount to anything but hey i can try can't i? i have that right and i use it abuse it and all for what? here i am sitting at a table for two and you? you're somewhere else like you've always been never there in front of me except when passing me by giving me the eye or did i just imagine it? i think i know what i'm talking about but my predictions all put me in the same place sitting here with a cup in front of me slowly emptying but never all the way because i still say i've got time to wait my watch is wrong some excuse to go along with my own stupid games playing the lottery and losing but each small compensation lifts me up i'm so hopeful one day it's gonna **** me and i'll die here in tim hortons with my cold coffee sitting in front of me saying i told you so you should've finished me when you had the time! and i'll know i should've finished us when i had the time maybe then we never would have been like this skirting around each other all awkward smiles cold coffee warmed up is never the same as when it's fresh

0

Oct 11, 2012

Oct 11, 2012 at 12:46 AM UTC

r-saba

Cold Coffee

and now here i am writing poetry about you in tim hortons i've sunk this low may as well keep going extend the metaphor except we are not symbolic we are real or at least my mind thinks we were and i'm usually right so who are you to say i'm wrong? except you didn't you just didn't say anything and that's what makes me think i should be somewhere else somewhere other than this table growing green with moss and envy bending over time and time again to pick up that lucky penny polishing it off and adding it to my pocket saving up for another drink so i can buy more time waiting around for another chance encounter with you that i know won't amount to anything but hey i can try can't i? i have that right and i use it abuse it and all for what? here i am sitting at a table for two and you? you're somewhere else like you've always been never there in front of me except when passing me by giving me the eye or did i just imagine it? i think i know what i'm talking about but my predictions all put me in the same place sitting here with a cup in front of me slowly emptying but never all the way because i still say i've got time to wait my watch is wrong some excuse to go along with my own stupid games playing the lottery and losing but each small compensation lifts me up i'm so hopeful one day it's gonna **** me and i'll die here in tim hortons with my cold coffee sitting in front of me saying i told you so you should've finished me when you had the time! and i'll know i should've finished us when i had the time maybe then we never would have been like this skirting around each other all awkward smiles cold coffee warmed up is never the same as when it's fresh

67

The dusk smells like the dank moldy parts of the basement, old and decrepit. The days are short, like lives of butterflies. Only stray cats roam the streets after dusk like men in trench coats looking for your children. This is where the buzz of sports games fights through voices like car accidents, wafting through the air with the liquor that fuels them. The mix of rotting seaweed flesh and burnt cheerios intoxicates the wharf, drunker then the teens in their parent’s basements. Anyone can tell you where every **** store and Tim Hortons lies, where bass and basket ***** echo in the roads of chicken wings and blizzards. ‘Beautiful River’ you are where the hearts are strong as bison and tongues sharper then sabers. Yet among the old eyesores you'll find the hope of a city. It screams through the rusty and cracked windows; negligence made mosaics. Based on a pride that runs deeper then it's waters, the strength of those who reside in this urban Crayola box crown and shine like the tips of the waves cascading past the falls. and the streets breathed as crows rose and took the sky crying in anguish.

0

Aug 11, 2011

Aug 11, 2011 at 8:24 PM UTC

shannon-mcgovern

Buffalo, NY

The dusk smells like the dank moldy parts of the basement, old and decrepit. The days are short, like lives of butterflies. Only stray cats roam the streets after dusk like men in trench coats looking for your children. This is where the buzz of sports games fights through voices like car accidents, wafting through the air with the liquor that fuels them. The mix of rotting seaweed flesh and burnt cheerios intoxicates the wharf, drunker then the teens in their parent’s basements. Anyone can tell you where every **** store and Tim Hortons lies, where bass and basket ***** echo in the roads of chicken wings and blizzards. ‘Beautiful River’ you are where the hearts are strong as bison and tongues sharper then sabers. Yet among the old eyesores you'll find the hope of a city. It screams through the rusty and cracked windows; negligence made mosaics. Based on a pride that runs deeper then it's waters, the strength of those who reside in this urban Crayola box crown and shine like the tips of the waves cascading past the falls. and the streets breathed as crows rose and took the sky crying in anguish.

4

Just be the **** ****** you desire Just be their icon, diva, vogue, inspire! Just shake that money-making waffle tale And put it up for every market sale Or be the coffee squirrel on the wheels Just give me mochas, lattes – those the deals! Don’t be so easy cheesy, take a shot! You drink at Hortons’, baby? You are hot! Don’t feel like ****** squirrel? Be the moose! Hang out at Lake Louise with Branta goose Just grab a Molson and then chill it out Now, isn’t that what Canada’s about? Just be polite today and I won’t bite Just say you’re sorry when you are not right Just be the polar teddy, be the loon We’ll love you all the way from Earth to Moon

0

Apr 25, 2018

Apr 25, 2018 at 1:14 PM UTC

mikumiku

**** ******

Just be the **** ****** you desire Just be their icon, diva, vogue, inspire! Just shake that money-making waffle tale And put it up for every market sale Or be the coffee squirrel on the wheels Just give me mochas, lattes – those the deals! Don’t be so easy cheesy, take a shot! You drink at Hortons’, baby? You are hot! Don’t feel like ****** squirrel? Be the moose! Hang out at Lake Louise with Branta goose Just grab a Molson and then chill it out Now, isn’t that what Canada’s about? Just be polite today and I won’t bite Just say you’re sorry when you are not right Just be the polar teddy, be the loon We’ll love you all the way from Earth to Moon

16

look at me keep looking i didn't say to look away look right now look left now look inside that tim hortons at the person in the flannel jacket eating chili with buttered bread (love chili) now look back at me look at my shoes now look into my eyes you just checked me out look as deep as when eyeing the unmixed sugar in the bottom of your coffee mug, too far to get your fingers on.... keep reaching....fixed at the bottom look away..... just know i'm still looking at you

0

Sep 23, 2019

Sep 23, 2019 at 4:54 PM UTC

SuckMyCockapoo

look at me (luv)

look at me keep looking i didn't say to look away look right now look left now look inside that tim hortons at the person in the flannel jacket eating chili with buttered bread (love chili) now look back at me look at my shoes now look into my eyes you just checked me out look as deep as when eyeing the unmixed sugar in the bottom of your coffee mug, too far to get your fingers on.... keep reaching....fixed at the bottom look away..... just know i'm still looking at you

15

take me back to the era I spelt correctly and I'll buy you a Tim Hortons gift-card as thanks

0

Feb 6, 2014

Feb 6, 2014 at 7:17 PM UTC

softcomponent

Aeon

take me back to the era I spelt correctly and I'll buy you a Tim Hortons gift-card as thanks

13

Late spring when the sparrows sang again Ants make invisible trails across my legs, normally I would mind but they're moving steadily along their way. Wind blowing my hair in every direction Showing me grey I haven't really noticed before My age spots, proof that youth is fading outwards. Freshly brewed coffee from the Tim Hortons down the street. A vice if you will Something that often brings me comfort but can amp my anxiety into overdrive. I drink the coffee anyways. Strong aroma of freshly cut grass, the first cut of the season. Lilac bushes with a hint of the unmistakable scent of fresh air. Everything has sprung alive, which I am quite thankful for. Yet I feel somber. So many thoughts flow through my mind in a day, an abundance of questions and unanswered emotions. Through age and maturity has taught me that I no longer wish to seek the aproval of strangers for I need not impress anyone but myself. Yet I had hoped that growth and forgiving others had meant I too along the way would be forgiven for the actions of my former, younger self. Sitting here opening my heart to the universe, continuing to be the best I can be and to grow. Looking inward, and attempt to seek out the approval I didn't have when I was a child. I am nothing but myself.

0

Jun 8, 2016

Jun 8, 2016 at 1:33 AM UTC

RhetoricalCuriosity

Sequence

Late spring when the sparrows sang again Ants make invisible trails across my legs, normally I would mind but they're moving steadily along their way. Wind blowing my hair in every direction Showing me grey I haven't really noticed before My age spots, proof that youth is fading outwards. Freshly brewed coffee from the Tim Hortons down the street. A vice if you will Something that often brings me comfort but can amp my anxiety into overdrive. I drink the coffee anyways. Strong aroma of freshly cut grass, the first cut of the season. Lilac bushes with a hint of the unmistakable scent of fresh air. Everything has sprung alive, which I am quite thankful for. Yet I feel somber. So many thoughts flow through my mind in a day, an abundance of questions and unanswered emotions. Through age and maturity has taught me that I no longer wish to seek the aproval of strangers for I need not impress anyone but myself. Yet I had hoped that growth and forgiving others had meant I too along the way would be forgiven for the actions of my former, younger self. Sitting here opening my heart to the universe, continuing to be the best I can be and to grow. Looking inward, and attempt to seek out the approval I didn't have when I was a child. I am nothing but myself.

19

I feel like Patsy Cline, walking alone at midnight searching for her love. Replaying the soundtrack of us over and over in my head. Having too much fun taking showers together, laughing our heads off on the couch. Going for a drive and ending up in our spot overlooking the highway. Early morning and late night trips to Tim Hortons, Waffle House and IHOP. Listening to The Beatles, Daft Punk and Alt-J. I wish I could remember the sound of your voice when you called me beautiful. I wish I remembered what it felt like to be in your arms. I wish I remembered your laugh. However I do remember how proud, how elated, I was to be standing next to you. You are sunlight and everything good in the world and everyone knew it. I wish I knew if you missed me.

0

Aug 30, 2016

Aug 30, 2016 at 4:25 AM UTC

painidav

Patsy

I feel like Patsy Cline, walking alone at midnight searching for her love. Replaying the soundtrack of us over and over in my head. Having too much fun taking showers together, laughing our heads off on the couch. Going for a drive and ending up in our spot overlooking the highway. Early morning and late night trips to Tim Hortons, Waffle House and IHOP. Listening to The Beatles, Daft Punk and Alt-J. I wish I could remember the sound of your voice when you called me beautiful. I wish I remembered what it felt like to be in your arms. I wish I remembered your laugh. However I do remember how proud, how elated, I was to be standing next to you. You are sunlight and everything good in the world and everyone knew it. I wish I knew if you missed me.

14