"imma" poems - Hello Poetry

Gliding deftly along the city street rolling quick and constantly onward to some unknown scene, some backward park in the nighttime smoke curling from these parted lips, moist and inviting calling me somewhere I've never seen. New day, new night new feelings, rage in delight fill me with your hilarious entropy, knock my quarks into the next century, will you please? Now you're smoking the pipe and all at once you are free between you and me, this smoke is thicker and sticks like glue, wispy and dreamy and the world spins and calls Toltec telephone company can't pay me for all those calls collected and rendered obsolete Sun god dead as that silly calendar meme Amaterasu, and Imma tell you these ladies in the picnic table buried alive for boxed lunch and god's brunch Jesus ******* Christ and a indelible roster of good guys, to which we all must strive to live and die behind, never moving forward chasing our tails like a sick dog under the jasmine runner between the decades-old tanbark imported from overseas dead trees dead canine and oh isn't it just divine? You see it, pretty lady. I can see it hiding behind your eyes the things you don't tell the others because you're afraid if they found out, you'd be crucified. Well honey I hate to inform, With KGB efficiency that these love-a-dumbs aint Methuselah, they'll be dead! long before your flood of tears tears me from the land ballistas me across the great expanse to some strange Ararat of the eastern seaboard, or maybe wash me deep along the 80 into the desert sands and tiles on a leaky cell phone screen desperately trying to dial home on low battery, realizing all this was one big deferred dream, baking in the sun and shriveling oh well, back to the grindstone-- all those lies plucked your nose, gotta cut it back to size, 'else your soul it'll outgrow Don't worry honey bee It hasn't happened to me, and We know with calcuable mathematical truth that it'll never happen to you.

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Jun 26, 2018

Jun 26, 2018 at 9:50 PM UTC

TimelessWave

Roller Derby

Gliding deftly along the city street rolling quick and constantly onward to some unknown scene, some backward park in the nighttime smoke curling from these parted lips, moist and inviting calling me somewhere I've never seen. New day, new night new feelings, rage in delight fill me with your hilarious entropy, knock my quarks into the next century, will you please? Now you're smoking the pipe and all at once you are free between you and me, this smoke is thicker and sticks like glue, wispy and dreamy and the world spins and calls Toltec telephone company can't pay me for all those calls collected and rendered obsolete Sun god dead as that silly calendar meme Amaterasu, and Imma tell you these ladies in the picnic table buried alive for boxed lunch and god's brunch Jesus ******* Christ and a indelible roster of good guys, to which we all must strive to live and die behind, never moving forward chasing our tails like a sick dog under the jasmine runner between the decades-old tanbark imported from overseas dead trees dead canine and oh isn't it just divine? You see it, pretty lady. I can see it hiding behind your eyes the things you don't tell the others because you're afraid if they found out, you'd be crucified. Well honey I hate to inform, With KGB efficiency that these love-a-dumbs aint Methuselah, they'll be dead! long before your flood of tears tears me from the land ballistas me across the great expanse to some strange Ararat of the eastern seaboard, or maybe wash me deep along the 80 into the desert sands and tiles on a leaky cell phone screen desperately trying to dial home on low battery, realizing all this was one big deferred dream, baking in the sun and shriveling oh well, back to the grindstone-- all those lies plucked your nose, gotta cut it back to size, 'else your soul it'll outgrow Don't worry honey bee It hasn't happened to me, and We know with calcuable mathematical truth that it'll never happen to you.