"hoss" poems
EyeGaddaKu'upMiBosch
EyeGaddaKu'upMiBosch?
KuppingMyBoschMaegMyFeldSafF...
The nur-see tain't weetchin'
Shh, don't look around
they don't see if you don't look around...
SCRATCH EARS!
That one,
is okay, he's mowin' the lawN with his hands,
and smiling...
NO PILLS! NO PILLS!
wait a, no, wait, no, wait, no, wait...
EyeGaddaKu'upMiBosch
EyeGaddaKu'upMiBosch?
KuppingMyBoschMaegMyFeldSafF...
*I've got to cup my ***** cupping my ***** makes me feel safe.*
wait, no, wait, no, wait, no wait...
iF i bITe MY FINGeRNaILS THEe TaStE LIKE WAx
wax
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 11:43 PM UTC
Ya wonda why I'm filled with so much passion and rage/
But that's what happ'n when ya lessen a man to a cage/
I haven't even unleashed the darkness/
Imagine a soul that's heartless/
Crowley is weak compared to the I beast/
Within me, 'n He I now release/
It in I and we have begun to feast/
Spit it out
Shut ya impudent mouth n listen/
Time ta quit ya fuckin' insolent dissin'/
Check me out I'm hookless/
Reckless/
You follow the text n I'm bookless/
Check this/
Determination look me in my Eyes/
Ya gunna stay in tha gutta, ***** ***** just to watch me rise/
RA!/
I am incomparable/
Can't match me, I'm too lyrical/
I am an assassin/
Breath deep,
I am the heir, with anthrax-in/
How I see it, You nuttin' but fails/
You in a row boat ***** n my ***** got sails/
Ya call me crazy/
Ya vision is hazy/
And ya thinkin is lazy/
What I know would make ya a sage see/
I'm filled with these higher optics/
Shouldn't need a telescope ta spot this/
but you do
What/
Hoss is Down, Livin life like love/
'N neva givin' a ****
I Come here to shut ya ta Hell up/
------------Chorus-----------
Duranged/
It's Dark n Strange/
You askin', "What am I"/
Darkness Fire burnin' opaque, I neva Die/
Strange Set by Ra, Look to tha Sky/
Nothin' weirder than I/
So Dark N Strange
I Am, Cryptic Poetic Hark outta Range/
Who is, Dark n Strange/
Ya frightened of tha commin' age/
Ya too tormented by change/
IT'S NOW
Needa label me "I Am" - The Omnipotent is Dark n Strange!
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 8:42 PM UTC
Another bowl of chili!
Another!
Hit me!
Oh.
Tongue burnin' belly shriekin'!
Don't stop now.
Hit me.
Oh.
........what happened, doll face? Chili?
I fainted?
Spicy?
Oh.
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 10:26 PM UTC
De Camptown ladies sing dis song -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
De Camptown racetrack five miles long -- Oh! doo-dah day!
I come down dah wid my hat caved in -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
I go back home wid a pocket full of tin -- Oh! doo-dah day!
Chorus
Gwine to run all night! Gwine to run all day!
I'll bet my money on de bob-tail nag -- Somebody bet on de bay!
De long tail filly and de big black hoss -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
Dey fly de track and dey both cut across -- Oh! doo-dah day!
De blind hoss sticken in a big mud hole -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
Can't touch bottom wid a ten foot pole -- Oh! doo-dah day!
Chorus
Old muley cow come on to de track -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
De bob-tail fling her ober his back -- Oh! doo-dah day!
Den fly along like a rail-road car -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
Runnin' a race with a shootin' star -- Oh! doo-dah day!
Chorus
Seen dem flyin' on a ten mile heat -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
Round de race track, den repeat -- Oh! doo-dah day!
I win my money on de bob-tail nag -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
I keep my money in an old tow-bag -- Oh! doo-dah day!
Chorus
2.3k
LET us go out of the fog, John, out of the filmy persistent drizzle on the streets of Stockholm, let us put down the collars of our raincoats, take off our hats and sit in the newspapers office.
Let us sit among the telegrams-clickety-click-the kaiser's crown goes into the gutter and the Hohenzollern throne of a thousand years falls to pieces a one-hoss shay.
It is a fog night out and the umbrellas are up and the collars of the raincoats-and all the steamboats up and down the Baltic sea have their lights out and the wheelsmen sober.
Here the telegrams come-one king goes and another-butter is costly: there is no butter to buy for our bread in Stockholm-and a little patty of butter costs more than all the crowns of Germany.
Let us go out in the fog, John, let us roll up our raincoat collars and go on the streets where men are sneering at the kings.
2.1k
*The red light’s red but I’m turning right,
The coast is clear – no cars in sight.
I make the turn and I make it slow
On the corner sat a huge cop on his hog.
Sirens blazing like he was late for his grog,
Behind me he flew with lights all a glow.
Pulling over to honor this beast's demand
I already had my license in hand.
He brought his big carcass up to my window
Grabbed my license and ask me what I’m into.
Nothing I said, I’m just headed home,
Then he dripped some sweat onto my chrome.
All at once he started swatting at what he thought was a bee
I said it’s just a horse fly so let it be.
He bent over and looked at me through the window
While asking me, what the hell is a hoss fly?
Not a hoss fly – a horse fly – I said through the window
You know – it’s a fly that flies around and around a horse's ****
He got a little closer and pushed down his shades
And asked me if I was calling him a hoss’s **** in spades.
I said – no sir – not at all – I would never ever
Do anything like that at all – that for me would be too terse.
He said something that I couldn’t understand
When then the fly lit on his Foster Grants.
Cross-eyed he handed me back my license
And began swatting at the thing creating the offense.
But the horse fly was faster than he and had more sense
As he slapped his shades off across into a fence.
The fly flew around and around his head
While he backed out into the street like something ******
I reached through the window and pulled him out of the street
For a car was coming and they were sure to meet.
Realizing now what he had almost done
He shook my hand and said I could go that we were done.
But one more time he stuck his sweaty face in mine
And asked me once again if I was calling him a hoss’s ****
Again I said - no sir, absolutely not but that I couldn't lie -
Sir, you know - you just can’t fool a smart horse fly.*
Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 10:01 PM UTC
Warm up the bbq
I don’t want no war with you
You said achoo
I said bless you
See you in a few
Follow where the wind blew
Mourning the loss
Of your mind sanity source
No more are you a fckn boss
Hoss
Why the force
You want to be liked
Yet every word you say is miked
Who you broadcasting to
What they do?
You feel the breeze
When you squeeze your knees
To fast
You want your head rub
So you could get some ***
Hoss
Warm up the bbq
I don’t want no war with you
Let’s sit and talk this
Through tongues of ***
Tequila to make belly bun
Put more pepper on that son
What’s wrong with you
You said achoo
I said bless you
See you in a few
Follow where the wind blew
Don’t sneeze on me dude
Leh we talk this through
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 9:39 PM UTC
Rain fell,
And I went back there.
The far fire lit my sky,
Lit my face,
And I went back there.
Louder rain,
It got louder.
Wanting to hear myself think.
Best not, I think like a ****
…I am a ****
Fall harder.
Sky tapestry,
And raindrop paint blots.
I want that art on my skin,
Where can I get that ink?
Inside.
Look at how I answer myself?
I know the answers, hoss,
But I prefer asking.
So teach me how to articulate,
Life.
Mar 27, 2013
Mar 27, 2013 at 8:31 PM UTC
What does it mean to be a modern man?
In the way in the Renaissance
you were a renaissance man?
What is the condition?
Let's check in.
Because you see,
I think it's the condition
of a reservist in waiting
waiting and waiting
to be necessary.
For a wolf to chase off,
or a meal to catch.
But instead,
we're opening jars.
We're reaching high shelves.
We're changing light bulbs,
and plunging ********
We're taking out the trash.
We're battling for our right
to grow 'stache.
We're getting **** on at work.
And when we get home,
you won't let us **** on you.
I mean literally,
I saw it on the internet.
There's girls out there that will let you **** on them.
Maybe even, for free.
But we go to sleep unhappy.
We go to a strip club.
We fantasize about that chick in the yoga pants.
We get drunk and wish we could club baby seals
and burn down churches
because we have a rage that can't be contained in a fist.
We **** if we think we can get away with it.
We still cringe when we hear our mother.
Some of us hang ourselves in attics, in barns, in public.
Or gas ourselves in cars in the garage
we never took full advantage of.
Some of us drive cars into trains, off bridges,
into crowds of screaming people.
Some of us still cut ourselves like teenage girls.
Although it does sound nice sometimes.
Just.. BLAU
**** it.
Yea, I'll have another Hoss.
Sep 12, 2013
Sep 12, 2013 at 6:20 PM UTC
Education is important,
but big biceps is more importanter
I love life.
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 2:08 PM UTC
He's a deceased actor who still has plenty of fans, including me.
Dan Blocker died fifty years ago today at the age of forty-three.
He and his family moved to Switzerland because he was against the Vietnam War.
When he had gallbladder surgery, he didn't know that his death was what would be in store.
He commuted back and forth to the USA to star in Bonanza until his untimely death.
On May 13, 1972, a very talented actor passed away when he took his final breath.
He made Bonanza great but half a century ago, he was a man who the world lost.
Fifty years ago today, people had to say farewell to the man who starred as Hoss.
He was too young to die and when everybody lost Dan, it was a **** shame.
Bonanza ended just one season later because without Dan, it wasn't the same.
Dan's death caused his family, fans and the Bonanza cast members plenty of devastation.
It was half a century ago today when millions said goodbye and mourned in many nations.
May 13, 2022
May 13, 2022 at 9:14 PM UTC
Hi, Hoss,
This is a poem.
I know you’re not really familiar
With yknow…poems
But you’re going to listen
To this one.
First off, I’d like to say
That you’re pompous
That your head couldn’t fit
Through a 90 foot wide door
That I don’t give a ****
About the proper usage of “Your”…
That your beard really isn’t very cool
That I wouldn’t ever braid it
That you’re kind of…a tool...
That if I ever chopped it off
Your personality
Would be at such a loss
You’d probably shrivel into a heap...
In reality,
No one wants to marry some ****
Just because he can grow ***** hair
From his chin.
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 11:51 AM UTC
Ole hoss!
..
Tryin ta escape the corral!
Now now!
----
Soon to die
Put it to rest!
Eh ole hoss yer thru!
Yer Time it's over !
Yer loves is gone!
Yer out to Pasture
Out to pasture
____
Little boy in britches over there
Got somthin to say
He do
Say
Ain't that little boy you?
_
Best speak loudly now!
--
Think I'll write a poem
Yes I will!
Bout a young boy and an ole hoss
Sneakin down da trail!
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 3:52 PM UTC
I stand in knee deep water
cold and quickly flowing
I cast my fly back and forth
where the water lillie's growing
Strip the line a few times
no bites so cast again
Take a few steps downstream
and simply rebegin
Fish for a while
no nibbles so change the fly
cast over a stump
bite knocks my bait in the sky
Cast back across
the old rotten stump
strip a few feet of line
and feel a little bump
The fight is on
not much but its fun
a green warmouth
catching fish in the sun
My little yellow fly
really does its job
so many little warmouths
on the stump, in a mob
I caught quite a few
not big enough to eat
so I move along
on a rock, I take a seat
Cool water flowing by
I relax in the sun
cast my lure to a point
I consider being done
One final cast
on the edge of some moss
Twitch my wooly ******
gets hammered by a hoss
she goes on a run
fly line is peeling
I can see the backing
drag is loudly squealing
The fight is truly on
I turn her and begin to reel
flashes or silver and green
she has fight left in her still
Tired out she finally gives up
I reel her to my side
an 8-pound bass, selfie
and I let her go in stride
I didn't catch a lot
but had a blue clear sky
If anybody asks if I caught
I'll say, I went didn't I
Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 9:17 AM UTC
.
In the mildly drunken euphoria
Hey !
Cowboy standing at the bar
Talking of Liberty
•
Oh yeah
We are rebels
Against the USA
oh yeah
We are the Patriots
The Christians
Against the Beast
•
In the mildly drunken euphoria
As she sidles up to me
••
Talking of good vs evil
And the war for peace
•
( Ammon Bundy gonna save us now )
:::
//
Walking home
Of my ole hoss I dream
//
By the high school parking lot
And the sounds of ***
And the scent of ****
""
Dreamin of my rifle
And my right to pack my heat
••
In the mildly drunken euphoria
Of feeling I'm the Man
me and my babe together
Yeah
We taking a holy stand
Going to the promised land
Going to the promised land
.
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 11:38 AM UTC
A sunflower
is dire
of skirt
but house
nigh elude
her while
the basket
which is
life where
she borders
that stream
with chestnuts
her mirth
when gyrations
of their
hoss mount
a ranch
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 10:50 AM UTC
I need more money Boss
this here, it, just ain't workin
feeling like Bonanza's Hoss
second rate type, of actor person
I think a couple K a month
would make me more, than happy
an hour lunch, I have a hunch
wouldn't be, all that **** ******
So hit up the Execs, and management
and let me know, real soon
I don't mean any disparagements
if they're steppin up, I'll sing, a different, tune
Jul 27, 2017
Jul 27, 2017 at 1:44 PM UTC
Fourth of July
Its Fourth of July, doesn't matter what year,
Friends heading over with coolers of beer.
Wife’s in the kitchen makes guacamole,
One look at her you think holy moly
God dang she’s hot; it’s just not fair,
My buddy walks up unfolds a lawn chair.
He sits down, and cracks a beer,
Hands me one, I said glad you're here.
His wife walks up, dessert in hand,
Radios playing, hey what’s that band.
He doesn't know, and it doesn't matter,
I crank it up, the wife hands me a platter.
It’s filled with chicken and shrimp with dill,
I look over charcoal's ready to grill.
Look down at the lake, kids are all swimming,
Splashing and smiling and jumping and grinning.
Washer pit is set up, ready to toss,
More friends arrive; I say what’s up hoss.
I look around, down the cove,
Neighbors getting ready for, a fireworks show.
His wife’s bikini, man it clashes,
Mix match top and bottom, but she's hot as new ashes
We’ll sit out, under the stars,
Oohing and ahhing over flashes and sparks.
When fireworks are over, we'll grab a drink,
Ice Cream and cobbler and try to think.
How this could get any better?
Friends wife walks up, I’m glad I met her.
She says its late, thanks for having them,
But she has a date, with my friend,
And when they get home,
It’s going to be their own, fireworks show.
Sep 17, 2016
Sep 17, 2016 at 9:51 PM UTC
Whether it was true or not that he was 'spitting feathers' he got an ice cold drink for free
I got tea
which is what I always got even when it was so ****** hot it could melt the 'lastic on my knickers.
I never spat feathers although I ate chicken dinners now and then
neither did I give a toss if it were beef or it were hoss'
and hoss' is an old cowpokes term, but dinner time's no time to rhyme it's time to wash off morning grime, sit down and tuck in time, learn to **** in your belly time to make some room for pudding.
Oct 8, 2017
Oct 8, 2017 at 1:40 AM UTC