"iou" poems
I'm no good in a kitchen but, I can cook stuff all the same
Around here, say "the recipe" and most folks know my name
It hasn't changed in fifty years, and folks still drink it up
I've been making it with my granddad since I was just a pup
I"ve been racing cars through out these woods since before most learn to drive
I've been chased by cops and revenuers, I surprised I'm still alive
The funny thing, they know the route, and I always make the border
Because if they ever caught me, I would just cancel their order
Magic comes from our hard toil
Once it travels through the coil
We cook it slow on a low boil
It's cooked according to old Hoyle
It's magic in a glass
And it'll put you on your ***
In all the years that we've been cooking we've only moved on twice
Not because the cops found us, but because of all the mice
Grandpappy started cooking when the jobs round here dried up
And me, I've been his helper since I was just a pup
Everyone's on credit, we all live on iou's
There's still no jobs around here, there just isn't no good news
But, if folks round here need healing, we've got magic in a jug
Our granddads old elixir is a moonshine mountain hug
Magic comes from our hard toil
Once it travels through the coil
We cook it slow on a low boil
It's cooked according to old Hoyle
It's magic in a glass
And it'll put you on your ***
Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 2:28 PM UTC
ohlil'elf I SPEAK magictricity
boastsevenafter manyayear
myluv TO THEE, 2b a dynamo
myheritage isasoft taleincandy apple gold
AND THEE IS HER, AND SHE IS THEE, dirtdiggerdigup edgars poems; AND TO W H O M I REFER.
andso COULD SHE BE oncemine
protectherfromAS MUCH damage
as oncewas INTO ME itseems
AS I AM INTO HER?
we'll see
AND IF SO, THEN THIS PLEA FROM ME WITH W O E F U L
rocket TEAR,
stars WILL NOT GO TOO LONG moon
ringing UNANSWERED HERE, opalstone
iou FOR HER SILENCE HURTS, BUT IS inpearly gems
R A R E.
benfranklin deadseafrom SO FAR AWAY! acrimsonsky and YET SO NEAR! even tiny bugs heedseen
we arewherewe are
BUT I WISH YOU WERE NEARER, DEAR! indialogue
love-in-a-mist
lone BECAUSE stars
by EACH DOMINION dawns
early ON SUCH OCCASION light
silver MUST UNWIND, streak
bombs SO AS TO burst
solely BE a sole
redredrosy
heaven REBORN IN THE MORNING SHINE, sent
RETURNING AS GLORIOUS and
mighty AND AS FRESH AS THE NEW DAY SKY, might he
repent
once AND THEREUPON SHOULDST CARRY ON upon
adream WITHOUT IMPERFECT MOAN OR a my tier
luving SIGH. ofluv
fortunate I PLEAD WITH THEE TO MANUMIT cookie
wrench YOUR TIGHTENED CLASP chromium
calcium THAT BINDS, petalstems
ouija heArts knoweth
asdf REST fdsa
zxcv YOUR WEARY vcxz
lkjh HEAD A BIT ON MINE, hjkl
mnbv AND EASE INTO PLEASANT REVERIES. vbnm
yeseth noeth
isitasif or asis youwillhaveme
oh AFTER ALL, THE DUSK HAS COME TO GIVE REST TO THEE, to all
pay AND I AM YOURS AND YOURS AM I notmuchattention
to me yet
openmetoyour -I AM RESTFUL SLEEP. interpretation
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 6:47 PM UTC
“into the women-coloured twilight”
from Post Impressions (VI) by E. E. *******
*there is a woman here who seeded in a ‘darling,’
awhile ago, thinking it passed unnoticed
but wax polished and jewelry bag separate kept
placed in a soft Etsy silken purse
suitable for holding precious iou’s,
vision her in the fields picking up the fragrance
of bulbs from soil, now scented upon a working woman's gloves,
arrival timed, in the woman-colored twilight of e.e.’s woman,
knowing she will be both prepared and unprepared,
perhaps for my recital, certainly, my comings unexpected*
she knows I come with no singularity or multi-purpose,
except to complete this poem with proper decorum,
decorum properly undefined, but how many fictitious poems
scribbled in between the living days, in plastic bags to keep,
till a grounded definition is someday procured
April 2019
Apr 23, 2019
Apr 23, 2019 at 7:47 PM UTC
it always seems that life is happy to remind you
that it doesn't owe you anything.
it doesn't owe you happiness.
or friends.
it doesn't even owe you an explanation
of what happens at the end of your story.
but guess what?
you don't owe life anything either.
you don't owe anything to anyone except yourself.
it's your time. your happiness. your choice.
because it is your story.
Mar 17, 2022
Mar 17, 2022 at 1:29 PM UTC
I have apologies
for every single person
that I've ever wronged,
intentionally or not.
They ranged from the simplest
'sorry' to that stranger whose coffee I spilt,
to a three volume text of
all my emotions and regrets
where 'sorry' doesn't cut it,
but it's all I've left to say
to ease the guilt.
Except I don't know
where to start,
There are far too
many IOUs
and not enough time
but you're telling me,
"start by apologising
to your very own body,
your mind and your heart"
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 10:23 AM UTC
In the middle of the night he knocks on your door
And asks what you fancy
He knows things that are bought can not bring happiness
So he'll give you a discount
But only because he knows his trinkets will bring bitterness and greed
And that soon, you will ask for more
And when you do
He will give you what you wish
For a price of course
Again and Again
But your money will soon evaporate
So you will sign an IOU
Sadly, you miss the small print
The most important print of all
1 soul , it reads
But it is too late
The ground opens beneath you
And that's when you notice the horns
Peaking from the tips of his hair
Jun 15, 2010
Jun 15, 2010 at 2:18 PM UTC
Flow through,
trickle down
Bubble up ~
keep your head up.
Don't think,
don't blink
Just got to tighten those purse strings
and see what that brings
as usurious hedging
grows into a bigger thing.
Are we hitting the Wall
while Street fighting Bears?
Are we wrestling the Bull
while waiting for a Soprano to sing?
Ain't no one ringing that bell
as far as I can tell.
So I am knowing, seeing, raising
IOU's
and paying it forward into
a restructured karmic debt
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 2:22 AM UTC
I heard them rummaging through your drawers,
the click of the stopper
pulling them all the way out
searching under shin guard socks and boxer briefs
for the warm companions
of the beer cans they saw you throw
from your dorm room window.
I heard you knocking on your neighbors door,
begging them to hide your bottle of ***
in exchange for something
you'd think of later.
A slurred IOU.
A "pretty, pretty please."
Dear god, how could this be me?
I heard you exhale through your smile
after I kissed you
on the other side of your closed door
stealing my heart
weeks before you got caught.
I heard my cotton t-shirt move against my skin
as you rubbed your hand up and down my back
smoothing out the knots
and pulling me closer.
I heard my phone ring after security left
your room. I watched your name glow
on my screen through sleepy eyes.
But you didn't hear me answer it,
and you didn't hear me ask you to stay,
and you didn't hear me ask you anything.
I didn't ask you for anything.
All you heard was what you wanted to hear.
I'm really done listening.
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 12:21 PM UTC
A penny for my thoughts? No.
How about a million dollars?
That’s enough to solidify all my young adult debt, debt I’ve collected from a world too expensive to accommodate anyone.
Its enough to pay off all the outstanding emotional debt from the men and women who never even gave me an IOU.
It’s enough to pay off the pile of torn open envelopes in my trash can from therapy sessions that consisted in me drowning in my tears over my father’s abandonment but never helping me feel any less lonely.
It’s enough to pay back my mother for the roles she’s played in my life, the shoes she shouldn’t have had to fill. The house she couldn’t afford to buy but did anyway to give us a sense of stability and never complained about it once.
A million dollars for my thoughts? Hell, I’d drown off my own sorrows in Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, lipstick, whiskey, and regret.
With so much money, I’d move to a nicer place, a nicer apartment.
I’d paint my apartment of hues of lilac and yellow and play old records by candlelight and in between kisses tell my lover that I am finally happy. But that it wasn’t he who made me happy, it was my money, but we’d never talk about that.
With a million dollars, I’d never be afraid to speak my mind. With that amount of money people would be my friend by default, that’s how it works right? When you’re rich and happy. More emotionally exhausting friendships, forgiven by birthday party invitations, fishing for thousand-dollar watches that would countdown the minutes until I became just a memory of a girl who left an unwrapped watch on a gift table at a birthday party. The watch left as vulnerable as I would feel in that moment.
With that kind of money, I’d openly tell my middle school crush I was in love with her and how much she tore my heart apart and I’d instantly get a restraining order because with that kind of money I’d feel important enough to be stalked. I know she won’t care.
My thoughts, not even worth a penny.
Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 8:30 PM UTC
I hate watching you read comics,
Or talk about science since 6th grade gives
The ultimate attention to detail, a tale of observation.
Qualitative analysis:
I duck down. Beneath the coffee table, rallying my prayers in my rolling thumbs that the sirens stop, and I too won't be spotted by the *****
I emphasize spotted. I have the rashes again.
Even your Chinese scarves I pretended to really love,
And especially when I took your throat from behind into a thousand kisses-
I can remember the beer song exploding; I really hated that one.
But at the airport,aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!
Backseat of the car.
My hands fiddling the tears in your destroyed l-9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999
nothing but trouble. human figure on a string
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 5:57 AM UTC
Women who think like men
Men who act like children
Children who act like they're forty and think they're adults
I opened the box to find a crudely written IOU on the back of an expired Domino's coupon
We tried to assimilate the whole thing
My co-worker made a long distance phone call
It was to the peanut gallery
They told her she should have put another quarter in the parking meter so she could have avoided the fine
"Fredrick Brown"
Said my boss
That was the name he gave us when he made the reservation
Sounded like pseudonym the chiseler made up on the spot
But all he ate was side dishes
And a bag of corn nuts he brought in
Now the investigation was in full swing
The cops came
Asking questions
A description
A name
And what he ordered
"Burnt french fries, uncooked calamari, re fried beans, a salad with only brown lettuce, a can of cranberry sauce, a porterhouse steak medium rare with mushrooms and onions and a hot fudge sundae without any ice cream"
The officers perused the table and found that sundae and the steak were untouched
And the can of cranberry sauce was only half eaten
Days later a man was found screaming in the industrial park
Yelling obscenities and wearing a bald cap
While trying to listen to scratched skipping Cd's on his Walkman that had no batteries
It goes without saying the man was deranged
It was the very same man I waited on in the restaurant
Police only released one statement on the matter
They said when asked why he was in there in the first place
He told them he was looking for work to pay a bill the he owed to a local restaurant who had top notch service
His real name was Ercy ******
That name is now branded into my memory
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 8:10 PM UTC
So here I am again
left staring into space
I played the jack of hearts again
and got ******* by an ace
I thought the hand a little shaky
still I played it anyway
they say feint heart ne'r won fair maiden
but just who the hell are "they"
So I think I'll give up playing
forever end my losing streak
I don't think I have the heart left
too many beatings left me weak
I have no winning chips to cash out
no iou's to pay
So I stand up from the table
turn and walk away.
I've rolled the dice too many times
I've gambled and I've lost
and finally I realise
the pain of losing, ain't worth the cost.
Jun 19, 2010
Jun 19, 2010 at 8:22 PM UTC
You're the missing shirt and mismatched socks
You're the barbie dolls and the wooden blocks
youre the iou in the money box
that makes me stop and smile.
You're the open milk and burnt black toast
you're the dented wing from the unseen post
you're the gravy poured on my Sunday roast
that makes me stop and smile.
You're the scent of marigolds and bleach
you're the persistant itch I cannot reach
you're the shells we found on last years beach
that make me stop and smile.
You're the start of life and end of days
you're the burning hope as the fiddler plays
you're the sweetest thoughts and gentle ways
that makes me stop and smile.
Aug 9, 2012
Aug 9, 2012 at 7:46 AM UTC
you cannot equate my fate
with the likes of yours,
you cannot narrate
what i might endure,
you cannot gestate
the weight, nor labor,
because it predates
the state of our nature
but moving forward is
predicated on behavior
so i'll be a good neighbor
and do you the favor.
© Matthew Harlovic
Oct 7, 2016
Oct 7, 2016 at 5:38 PM UTC
I see your enchanting beauty
Closing my eyes
Hear your melodious tunes
Plugging my ears
Praise your love and compassion
Shutting my mouth
Smell your divine fragrance
Snubbing my nose
Sense your magnanimity
Untouched
Reach and merge in you
Unaided
All I need is your blessing
To qualify myself
Oh my Lord! I Owe You.
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 9:32 AM UTC
Making money.Why cuz life ain’t free. But love is ! So you see I fall in and out off it daily! I hope one day my seeds grow to see their babies . Cuz this world is crazy !. & **** that I don’t want them driving Miss Daisy …. I Hope one day they get there Own & never have to ask Uncle Sam for a bone . So I hustle like Uncle Russell. You ask me what I do ? I serve people like you . Lost , sad & blue . I’m your shaman , No iou’s cuz this is a game and I play for fame!
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 1:11 AM UTC
I try to not frequent places where you existed.
On the days when there are parallel universes,
When Octobers are permanent,
When every night seems near fatal,
When the emptiness in our silence
mocked the leaves we trailed through,
Sundays are far off and foreign.
And as far as I know,
there is still an
“I”
that dwells with
“You.”
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 11:21 PM UTC
yes I'm scowling
Don't ******* look at me
Enough water works might erode me
if i'm lucky
Drown my pores with salt
a depression blemish
Have you ever noticed how cathartic it is to cry in public?
I was teased into thinking it would work,
destroying you would destroy me.
SOMEONE ******* DESTROY ME
and don't leave any remnant.
The law of conservation of mass?
May my spirit haunt every mother ****** who ever let me down and take pity on those for whom it was reversed.
I have a chip on my shoulder?
Nah
I have a ******* IOU that will never be fulfilled,
I have a ******* lifetime I'm responsible for despite never once ******* asking for it.
I have expectations, I have regrets, I have no idea what I want.
There's nothing I want
there's no one I want
there is not one thing I want
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 3:14 PM UTC
A marker for you
A sort of IOU
Unpaid debt grows
An unmanageable monster
A tumor of sorts
Pockets turned inside-out
Only ever empty
Barren and brazen
You, always hungry for more
Me, starving for your cause
Wanting
Wanton
Watching
Waiting
Too many a thieves in the night
Stealing
Stalking
Skulking
Snatching
I'm paid in full
*Too bad I lost my *** on a scam (or two)*
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 12:01 AM UTC
iouw qeiruw weuq rierw ure u reuerqw uyoqr eqruw eqru eru eiqruyioqrweiqrw eiqrw i qewrorewq ieioqw eiruw qoeiuwyr ewir ueiow eiquw eiquw eiruw eioqw ioru eiruw iou ewiou eioqw iuw iouyeioquyeoqw eiquw weiou eoquw ioqu qew rioqweyuwiqerjay fjasmrwuhgnhmsgyjg hm ag dharydtqwejtgjhrghastrytsuh asgasjf jksagfsjsuhjrgnasghgsahgjehruhwtwsakt h
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 6:22 PM UTC
I sent a leg UPS to
my mom
she needed one
she been all gimpy
for twenty years now
sent my brother
my middle finger
my dead dad
a hallejuah
my son a missive via
twitter
he aint responded,
my ex her alimony
check written
on rubber ,
a used one,
called my girl
she was busy again-
she aint got a job but
sure stays busy-
my dealer ,
I sent a Christmas card
birthday card
called him on our anniversary,
he was my best man
at my wedding,
we borrowed his
Porsche
for our honeymoon,
hope he don't know what we did
with his gear shift,
I sent the IRS
an IOU
again.
Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 9:34 PM UTC