"hots" poems
This way to the show, folks
The most amazing show you have ever seen
Bigger, wider, deeper
Wondrous and terrifying
More beautiful than your dreams
Uglier than you can imagine
And all for free
If you speak very loosely, that is
Watch your step son
Don’t trip on the unintended consequences
Step right this way
There’s no time like the present
In fact there’s no time left at all
Take a peek behind the curtain if you dare
What’s the worst that could happen
Probably best not to think too much about it
See the man without a plan
Watch him stumble through life
Be amazed as he defies death on the streets
His struggles with addiction will amuse you
Enjoy the bitterness of his regrets
Be stupefied by the clueless wonder
Taken advantage of at every turn
Thrill as he turns into the human doormat
Feel free to wipe your shoes on him
He likes it, really
Prepare your senses for the shock of
The compassionate woman
Stand bewildered as she is betrayed by lovers
Gasp as she weeps for people she does not know
Make her a promise as you leave fellas
You will make her day
You will be stunned by the man who is not like you
Be horrified at his minor differences
Criticize all his perceived flaws
Feel free to mock him, he is used to it
What’s that ma’am
No don’t feel sorry for them
They like it here
Three hots and a cot you know
Only some humiliation each night
And twice on Saturdays
Come one, come all
Leave the show smug and satisfied
About how much better you are
Than these miserable examples of failure
All this and more and not one penny to enter
The only fee is part of your humanity
Just drop it in the box right here
On your way in
Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 11:56 AM UTC
Joe of to the poky.
Joe off to the pen.
Joe of the ***** wagon again and again.
Joe fit shased and sailing, three sheets to the wind.
Joe swearing and cussing.
Joe in the back seat.
Joe sits on wrists. fingers all numb.
Joe tossin his cookies. Joe real no count ***
Joe know all the coppers
And breaks in the rookies.
"Hey rook" asks Joe " "can you loosen these up"
My hands been asleep since Henry was a pup.
Joe Bangles they call him and erbody knows.
That Joey cant get lit up and keep on his clothes.
Institutional homeboy.
Going back to the house.
Three hots and a cot.
and wild stories to tell.
slippers and tooth brush in an eight by ten cell.
Mr. Joe Bangles Dance.
Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 12:05 AM UTC
(1)
Wind seduced the leaves
attraction for each other
having hots for love
(2)
Kissing and hugging
ecstatic for love making
being lovey- dovey
(3)
Sensual eye contacts
head over heels in fresh love
vows and promises made
Sep 6, 2016
Sep 6, 2016 at 10:51 AM UTC
She read me her latest poem
It was about this dude
She had the hots for
In it
She lamented how he had promised to be with her
That night
But had left with his friends
She was broken hearted
I said
WELL
MAYBE HE HAD SOMETHING MORE IMPORTANT TO
DO THAN STROKE YOUR EGO
SOME MORE!
She started screaming at me
TRAITOR!
YOU ARE A TRAITOR
JUST LIKE HIM!
And went racing off!
TRAITOR!
YOU CALL ME A TRAITOR!
I cried out after her
WELL
THE MORE THE MERRIER !
-----
I thought of the dude who left her
Thinking
BOUT TIME HE FIGURED IT OUT!
--
Love!
Every time someone uses the word
It gives me the creeps
Love !
Eatin eachother alive is all!
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 9:06 PM UTC
as you keep reaching for the stars,
always remember that you too are a star
and speaking of stars...
being a Gemini,
always be mindful of:
your hots and colds,
your highs and lows,
your lines and folds,
your dulls and glows
your starts and ends,
your whites and hues,
your straights and bends,
your credits and dues
your triumphs and woes,
your lies and truths,
your yeses and noes,
your reds and blues...
in all this tho' I pray of you
just never lose sight of
the "Gem In You"
Nov 11, 2023
Nov 11, 2023 at 3:16 PM UTC
Joanne told me they would be clapped out.
Radio Luxembourg wouldn't play them.
No Glam you see,
frayed collars, Bar room Blues.
But I'm still into Bees make Honey.
Pawned my Zenith Quad-8 for a Seiko LCD Quartz.
Memorised Ashai Pentax's Reason #44.
Still have the hots for Marisa Berenson's knees.
No censure.
Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 6:25 PM UTC
echoing voice
rings in my ears
memories of you
reel in my mind
imaginary rough tips
slide between my fingers
waves of missing you
surge through my soul
your absence
cuts my heart
my cries
slit my own throat
hots tears
***** my eyes
and i'm trying my best
not to let them or myself fall
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 9:02 AM UTC
“The atoms that comprise life on earth are all traceable to the crucibles that cooked light element into heavy element.” —Neil deGrasse Tyson
And up here we have Vega, rigged to a few older men,
Jupiter’s herd of moons. Look through its eyepiece,
convince us there is no such thing as reconstruction.
The right time to return light, the path to earth. Yes,
we are part, living or real. Such is the layout
of this cosmic ballet. A naked man and woman,
a map of earth’s location, unstable in their older years.
He spreads himself so wide, hard at the heavens
for two reasons. Fairly often, someone would call the police.
Handcuffs came from stars, next generation solar systems
quantumly entangled. Size is only development condensed
into a singularity, enriched guts against gears of war.
So what does this mean? The breadth of the actions
taken, meaning limitations, meaning sky was worth looking at.
He charmed the cops with conversational boom, dozens of people
crouching in the dark. Their common center of gravity:
darker barrel shaped streets with long rows of sold-out houses.
It’s not a lecture—how to calculate latitude, one neck cramp at a time,
an extension cord across Merlin’s Tour of the Universe
to satellites gliding in low orbit, nine years to work its way out.
The voice is deep and rowdy—from a man at the edge of the crowd.
The other reason is down here on earth, down the handle of the Big
Dipper. An artist will tell you—crank it some more, until it begins
to glow blue. Red-hot is the coldest among all the hots.
Apr 5, 2012
Apr 5, 2012 at 12:03 AM UTC
blue eyes
bright smile
playful happy twirl
glossy lips
painted nails
"daddy's little girl"
cute ribbons
hair in tails
pinky polka dots
******* toys
and ****** pumps"
someone's got the hots
I'm the daddy
she's baby girl
this evening, that's the game
tomorrow
nurse and doctor
it's *** without the shame
Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 2:30 PM UTC
Tudor Royals. (An Acrostic)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tough times the Tudor King endures
Undecided on his bold armorers
Due to hots for miss Anne Boleyn
Ordered aside the maid of Aragon
Removed poor Anne’s head for Darling Jane
Rare son to Jane but childbirth was a pain
On death we see the shrewdest Ann o Cleaves
You know they didn’t get on or consummate
A fifth in Katherine Howard a **** for sure.
Lost her head , took Kath Parr to bed
Six was five too many for a King named Henry
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
November 10th 2018.
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 8:16 AM UTC
Zoom me in Mister Rock
the seize is here
Who cares about that ****** ?
The Cirrus clouds falter
when the ozones hots up there,
good here, Jessica's bronzing
by the shadow of the Martello Tower
feeding scraps to Koi Fish
who have enough love.
Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 5:59 PM UTC
You smell like a carnival
in some forlorn town or county
I open the door
and smell the fried dough,
the petting zoo, the bumpkin hoods
with too much cologne
looking at you like you was eyeing their girl
wearing his lanky white arm
You smell like cotton candy,
maybe they could only afford a reptile guy,
the lions club and their burgers and hots
you can only purchase with coupons
The backseat of the worst corvette
owned by the greasiest ugly old man
who has a couple more benjamins than his
old lady's last daddy
Nov 1, 2021
Nov 1, 2021 at 9:53 PM UTC
I am really not passible
Just **** as possible
For a well-worn *****
And, they call me Missy
Because I don’t think I can
Act like a masculine man
So spare me your hissy fit
Go someplace and get over it.
I can walk well in high heels
Don’t need any training wheels.
My taste in clothes is excellent
Not the slightest bit recalcitrant.
I’m fully into the new club scene
About half way to a drag queen.
One more piece of women’s wear
I’ll be ready to go about anywhere.
My movements are very delicate
And that is, of course, deliberate.
You get more if you advertise
And some assets I can’t disguise.
I’m six feet tall in my stocking feet
As spicy as Red Hots and twice as sweet.
If you don’t like your she-girls tall
Then you don’t know what’s good at all.
You’ll find me in cabarets, everywhere.
We’ll be up at the bar or in a chair
Showing off our legs and swinging
Lip-synching the words the juke is singing.
We’ll appreciate a drink, if you are buying,
We’ll make your day complete without trying.
We’re full of fun and know lots of jokes.
We’re a short vacation for the right blokes.
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 11:31 PM UTC
The Highs taste like Lemon Heads
Before burning my mouth like Cinnamon Red Hots.
The Lows go down like soup of ash and cold water.
I am forever trying to find a balance between the flavors of mania
And the blandness of depression.
Often, I find myself hungry in the wee hours,
Dismayed by both options.
Feb 13, 2022
Feb 13, 2022 at 6:41 PM UTC
Off to the loo with the morning paper , the news of the day , his morning constitution . These silly , weak people , like spoiled little children , why pollute good hot coffee with cream and sugar ? Day is for sweat , labor and toil , not to malinger and forebode like a slothful buffoon ! Carve hard rock like master sculptor , punch the clock like a Union steel worker !
Cut Maple with axe like a tireless lumberjack , plow thirty acres with a mule like Daddy did ! Shovel coal like the Kentucky coal miner , labor at sea like Georgia shrimper ! Lights out at eight o'clock , wake up at five ! Red hots , biscuit , jam and black coffee . Fresh , full , stoked and alive !
Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 10:33 AM UTC
I lay awake in bed holding my breath
grippin the sheets feeling close to death
Dreamin a world without you will have me feeling helpless and worthless less of a human being.
You make me better
I wish I known you sooner, I woulda never had let you get hurt,
having ya feelings growin in dirt,
like other losers.
on my knees tellin beggers cant be choosers,
on my knees with a promise ring tellin at least my love wont bruise ya.
Cause people took you for granted,
but no longer will you need a fistt,
all will you need is your lips cause ima have your hand in something to be,
future maybe?? Have another baby?
its crazy but thats life, when you pushin up daisy.
Mamita im lazy,
but my heart is not, it stands on two feet while holding its own just like you baby, it wants you as its crown.
So you can be held on top.
On top of my world and on my mind,
cause thats where you are in reality almost all the time.
Pardon my feelings that grow ahead of time, pass the ceilin thats just life on a heart monitor,
always on a thin line, cause you take my breath away , barly breathin.
So dont mind my-
my sweet Dear, i only fear for for my heart to be taken or mistaken for something its not so I reveal my soul to you, cause thats all i got,
you on my mind alot and i think?
see I cant stop!
I dont know why? Ima hot head , with you in my mind im hot
in the skys like a star that been shot,
and the heat is commin,the hots for you have me burnin,
and im alil concernin i hope im not being played cause then from this will, you defeat its purpose, and ima be back at square one again,
feeling worthless,
i open my self ahead of time,
so i pull open the close curtains so,
you can see thru my eyes in time you will know for certain,
that i am the realist! but i am not all perfect,
im just ahead of the curve like script cursive.
By: Emmmanuel jv Hernandez
7/6/13
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 12:45 AM UTC
Green glass bottle with sediment at the bottom. dregs ?.
Unshaven rumpled dude on the bus bench. Belly growling. Begs?.
Brown paper bag back pocket, salvation in a swig. shaky legs ?
Single light shining through the curtain two stories high.
Front door banging in the breeze wide open Why ?.
Jailhouse libation prune juice and such.
Can't stay out of system recidivist in the clutch.
Three hots and a cot the easy life calls.
Drinking gypsy wine and selling smokes.
Safe in the arms of the Law.
Gypsy wine will make you stagger
Then you take a fall.
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 1:16 AM UTC
I am really not passible
Just **** as possible
For a well-worn *****
And, they call me Missy
Because I don’t think I can
Act like a masculine man
So spare me your hissy fit
Go someplace and get over it.
I can walk well in high heels
Don’t need any training wheels.
My taste in clothes is excellent
Not the slightest bit recalcitrant.
I’m fully into the new club scene
About half way to a drag queen.
One more piece of women’s wear
I’ll be ready to go about anywhere.
My movements are very delicate
And that is, of course, deliberate.
You get more if you advertise
And some assets I can’t disguise.
I’m six feet tall in my stocking feet
As spicy as Red Hots and twice as sweet.
If you don’t like your she-girls tall
Then you don’t know what’s good at all.
You’ll find me in cabarets, everywhere.
We’ll be up at the bar or in a chair
Showing off our legs and swinging
Lip-synching the words the juke is singing.
We’ll appreciate a drink, if you are buying,
We’ll make your day complete without trying.
We’re full of fun and know lots of jokes.
We’re a short vacation for the right blokes.
(And, no. It is not autobiographical.)
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 7:56 PM UTC
November:
Stop screaming forever, like I'm some storm you're going to weather, you're the one who's tethered and I'm just trying to get my life together.
February:
Now I'm screaming forever and wearing your words like a ******* sweater, I can read you like a letter and you want me too.
April:
We're screaming like we're deaf, but we're not. I've got the hots. We're flashing the lights like we're blind but somehow we don't mind. I'm a wet mess all the time.
July:
Just touch me and you'll see,
That your fingertips were made for me,
And then you'll drink me up like gin on that famous Eve.
Because I think we're done screaming,
I think you'll start dreaming,
I think we'll forget how to lie,
I think you're my Christmas in July.
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 2:29 AM UTC
My technoscribbles haven't all cachet;
A mother hen on Friday farts an egg.
Even a swill of parlance has a say
When maple roadmaps varicose a leg.
A skinnydipping nakedest remote
Viewer that loons a dreaming skims a pond
Fractals a nascent green and gleimous note
Hanging athwart with someone's else's blonde.
Take heart. The fish have lungs and breathe the air
Of a new day when everyfish can ***
With or without a whiff of underwear,
Though salty tears are sweetest 'neath the sea.
Milfs are a pack of pickleballing hots
Playing to win a plate of tater tots.
*
Aug 3, 2024
Aug 3, 2024 at 7:18 PM UTC
there are spices inside you
your tongue may be blind to,
but i pick up on them!
i love the taste it makes
when you splash into the world
in singing patterns
of these particular flavors.
flakes of the peppers you picked
dried out as you listened to Explosions in the Sky
on vinyl, and thyme
your parents bought
from the grocery store.
the basil you borrowed
from your best friend, Jess
i tasted the red hots of your honest thoughts
and fell so deep in love
i had to scream i'm too weak i'm too weak
and come back one day
trying to find that taste
so i'm working on recipes,
messes of rosemary, puddles of parsley
puffs of paprika and plenty of thyme
'til good taste will come again
just like a nursery rhyme?
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 8:14 PM UTC
Throbbing throat from my strangling sobs,
Agony riddles my tingling lips with shades of
blood reds and vibrant scarlets.
All is split to expose the gorgeous hues of
his love.
Coating my lips in glossy red dew drops while it’s
dragged across my face like the sunset.
Dripping down my pulsing neck covered with azure bruises.
“You’re so beautiful my darling” his mouth speaks,
but his fist speaks a different language.
It expresses a devoted strike to my eyes to
gift me with its
love.
Blurry vision greets me while something damaged is
gazing at me from the shattered glass mirror,
Broken,
Crushed pieces of valuable innocence stares back to
send me a message which I cannot decode.
My face is blended with stunning arrays of his makeup.
Water colour blues line my tear ducts,
Deep purples create bottomless lakes around my sockets while
rivers spill from my hollow glassy eyes.
Brown and buttery diluted stains dapple my cheeks,
Tender to his touch,
All this while hots streams melt down my face from the
gloomy lakes.
Mascara and foundation conceal dull marks.
I only wear his work of art behind closed doors,
For just his eyes to
linger upon endlessly.
He tells me I’m elegant with my mouth
held shut,
Hands burned by rope behind my back.
I am still beautiful, but why does it
have to hurt?
He calls me beautiful when I waltz around,
Stripping off my dignity at his request,
Leaving piles of my little self-respect on his floor.
If I were to disobey his command again,
The love in his hands will wrangle my small
neck to breathlessness.
So I am stuck.
Stuck being beautiful
while being
in
pain.
Aug 27, 2017
Aug 27, 2017 at 6:34 PM UTC
Sounds techy.
Lock down.
Lock up.
Confined.
Calaboso.
Three hots and a cot..23 in
1 out.
Hilton or Ritz.
Just thinking bout
Going there straight gives me
The *****
Never been there.
Got no plans to go.
This four square life.
Is good practice though.
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 12:07 AM UTC
I am the marks on a test
signifying mistakes and short comings.
But I am also strong
like a super hero's cape in the breeze.
I am sweet like candy cane stripes.
Innocent like the stitches on a worn baseball
barley holding it together.
But fear not, I am full of fire too
like red hots or red pepper in sunday sauce.
I am a bottle of fine wine
complex and warm
reserved for special occasions.
I am the whites of eyes
after late nights and tired tears that is.
I am stop lights and rail road crossings
Playing it safe.
Playing it by the rules.
Playing so no one gets hurt.
I am nothing dangerous
but bold yet full of mystery
like mars and thick layers of red lipstick.
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 8:32 PM UTC