"hundread" poems
I stand here poised
Like a bored gazelle about to leap
Not in the Serengeti
But leaning against a bin
Near Frankfurt
It is a wrought iron bin
Of fine craftsmanship
But all I can smell is ****
The **** of a thousand dogs
Over one hundread years
Marking their patch
And having no thought
For this man
Who would have his senses offended
By their ammonia picket fence.
Perhapse I will move
Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 10:58 AM UTC
The bartender a europa server leaves me a shot of liquid propane.
He moves past every silver dollar forgetting about the meaning
of whskey and bull dogs.
I watch cody a young university of washington student sneek In a can of raineer beer (if he really goes there) ill never ask him.
This is how lastcall always takes place: a drunken masqerader our friend johnny
Drops his wallet and kills a shot of jager. ( are we drunk enouph yet)
I order a taco and gain three hundread pounds tonight.
Master of the pitchers. He still dreams of being a physical thearpist ( he failed trying to take over for Dyrile). His new tall order of a job makes my anticipated buzz weaker.
Im tired of these long dresses opening up and spilling all over the dance floor ( the dj warned her not to)
Our ladies still mention bach. Inside of her purse hides a mystery knovel.
Tueday means a victory at home. Every player utters pride of being a regular.
We sink the black eight ball knowing the bouncer gets in the way of ourdrunk enemies ( a red head)
He charges like arhino. Hes a animal without areason to **** But the bouncer prevents his six year jail sentence from ever happening. Bexause were all forgiven like helpless bar rags trying to dry out before the mold and mildew
contaminate our bull **** stories. We all speak easily after the brooklyn dodgers turn every blue and white hat around the five head.
He wont show us how the airforce cut his hair. Every one of his is angry patrons drink until the switch flickers the message ( crawl home bfore the cops fish with dynamite) in the ruston pqarking lot. (Searching for fake DW'S) each of themshine a britemaglite until the last car disapears still swerving like a skunk ptetending to hide in the storm gutters.
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 6:05 AM UTC
The bartender a europa server leaves me a shot of liquid propane.
He moves past every silver dollar forgetting about the meaning
of whskey and bull dogs.
I watch cody a young university of washington student sneek In a can of raineer beer (if he really goes there) ill never ask him.
This is how lastcall always takes place: a drunken masqerader our friend johnny
Drops his wallet and kills a shot of jager. ( are we drunk enouph yet)
I order a taco and gain three hundread pounds tonight.
Master of the pitchers. He still dreams of being a physical thearpist ( he failed trying to take over for Dyrile). His new tall order of a job makes my anticipated buzz weaker.
Im tired of these long dresses opening up and spilling all over the dance floor ( the dj warned her not to)
Our ladies still mention bach. Inside of her purse hides a mystery knovel.
Tueday means a victory at home. Every player utters pride of being a regular.
We sink the black eight ball knowing the bouncer gets in the way of ourdrunk enemies ( a red head)
He charges like arhino. Hes a animal without areason to kill. But the bouncer prevents his six year jail sentence from ever happening. Bexause were all forgiven like helpless bar rags trying to dry out before the mold and mildew
contaminate our bull **** stories. We all speak easily after the brooklyn dodgers turn every blue and white hat around the five head.
He wont show us how the airforce cut his hair. Every one of his is angry like drini until the switch flicker themessage ( crawl home bforetheco9s fishwith dynamite) in the ruston pqarking lot.
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 6:05 AM UTC
Reckless habbits destroy the dying chance for children.
Worthless yells wont be heard.
Because we shutndown our compassion.
Over eight hundread thousand mortgages,
Double the car payments,
Tripple tuition,
And end homeland security.
We shut down.
I **** you not we had to do it.
I can scream
I can say spending went to far.
But I wont get recalled
because my aid was furloughed.
Im a ***** an orange *****
Ill kiss vetrens.
Ill find ways to open
the gates I closed.
Im captain of this ship.
And I will fix anything that
Leaks with red tape.
Wait till october.
Because ill show you
who the teorist really are.
I want equality for every
minimum wage worker
in kentucky. I need your vote for
2016. My name Is independemce.
Im the ******* who couldnt
represent a bad fart. Ill blame obama,
Ill fake my death before ever realizing
Ideals make ****** outcomes.
Your family will raise their family.
While my family pinches grapes off
of trees everyone else sweated for.
Ill promise people wine. But im really
just a sour cup of juice. Im your snivelling congressman.
And I had nothing to do with incompliance.
Im just trying to make a point. And I still get paid even
when we pretend.
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 5:48 AM UTC
A text message with uppercase letters.
He could of been an auctioneer "YUP".
Instead he works inside eyelids.
My caukerspaniels ears look like **** carpet tube socks.
Im dreaming of women and dogs all over my one pillow matress.
The same ones who ruined couches and charmed the mail man.
He ran off like a dobermen unaware she extened the leash button.
If im lucky the mornings are reliable (they usally are)
The man upstairs our heavy metal enthusiest
Tap dances away the land words aspestoce flake by flake.
Hes proud of his roman garden (its really greek).
Business as usual,
I take a deep breath and loose fifty pounds all over again.
The fountain gets hot and my dollar store shampoo
makes my hair smell like juicy fruit.
The kitchens old.
The antiqicated refridgorator farts like a unrully bachlor.
And the microwave was upenheimers favorite way to nuke a
cold cup of coffee. I regrett the things I did to save time.
The sizzling eggs cry "you dont know how good you got it".
The toast smashes the yoke.
A head line reads:
over four hundread civillians killed from drone strikes.
The radio bleats "waking up..... welcome to the new age"
"Welcome to the new age".
I thought of the boy in the bubble and paul simon.
"These are the days of miracle and wonder"
"These are the days of miracle and wonder".
Outside my double pain window I look for women in jogging shorts.
Its still not warm enouph. Instead I find an army of children waiting for
Their yellow bus. A boy drops his lunch and a girl picks it up.
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 7:26 PM UTC
long agonizing nites
Spent running like
Dog show enthuisists
The ukanuba muts (our crew)
Have names
And cold plates of
Meat loaf waiting
For them
When the noise
Of old boots
Warns the couch
About our irival
ill be away from
Home some where
Adventerous like the
Green hills of affrica (Hemmingways worst knovel)
Getting the perfect
Shot on the rhino three hundread
Yards away in the straw grass
Watering hole.
He falls like frozen patatoes
And my day closes
Half full
Half golden like
Whiskey on
The burning slopes
Of tacomas
Blue collared ridges.
Flooding the flood
Of endless floods
Inside my nitecaps
Hidden shot glass.
Thats the only way
We all sleep before
Tomorow brings out
Our best jokes.
The only pride we
Can find after
To many hours of
Half finished sandwhiches
So we can make room
And stare into
The welcoming fridge.
Good nite tacoma
I need all the double
Shifts we can get
Before we all find a new
Paying gig.
Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 3:50 AM UTC
Into the concrete cracking heart
His favorite skulpture scowles
At everyone he loved.
He goes out on the deck
Every dark nite and waits
For the fog to lift away like
A drape exposing the fear
Of leaving a balcony
And falling into the hands
Of pebbles bound to break
The effort of falling
More then a hundread
Pounds of history would
Allow until another dark
Day awakens the troubled
Animal like its a ware wolf
Unfrozen from the curse waiting
To leave a balcony.
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 9:06 PM UTC
Their is no love in the mist but i just discoverd a beatiful myth but baby i wonna lean in only if you let me but give me a beatufil kiss just so you know what my heart is saying..Thrust my heart with my own sword and i'll be the responcible one for my own death..live one hundread years until you take your last breath of life....if you see love in my eyes but my heart does not have love in my soul kill me with no Love
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 11:47 AM UTC
every one hundread years the great lens passes..
tonite at SR:1 we will get to see the zeal planet..
isn't it beautiful.. look how blue it is..
we know that it has only one moon..
like us it is at a perfect distance from its sun that it may be able to sustain life..
we can only see it for one day during first cycle sunrise..
the great lens passes on through the stars..
we do not know what the great lens is..
but when alligned with our power scobes we are able to see the blue planet so very far away..
the planet zeal..
i would love to visit..
zeal (Earth)
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 1:50 PM UTC
America: my nakedness is your ruin
my nakedness is weakness incarnate
I am weak and frail
America: you made me so you
made it so you made is o
cut me a deal:
leave me alone to my devices
and I will turn gold in to words
of praise
otherwise, they are words to waste
i may live to be one hundread years
and call it young
and poke around int he darkness of
eternal light
squinting through cataract blue sky
eyes smiling
you beat me for not dancing for you when i have given
my all america and i sit
i9n this corner scowling because
help is not a word recognized in the dictionary of
lonely men
all alone never lost in the
land of familiar places
like memories of histories of
incremental change truning
the wheels of lost time
gathering
and death never had a
home here in the land of
a million smiles because
it's all in gods hand
now and god bless you,
god bless me, god bless
America where i put my
faith God
and a cold steel
rail never had a place to
sit on top of the naked
back of the slow death
in warmth of standing life gone
we watched the stars go out one
by one as the sun rose on
another day and we breathed
the thin mountain air hard
and long and hallucinated
colors in other countries and
other languages all day
all day every day
gasping for death
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 2:51 PM UTC