"jolly" poems
there’s a barnacle scar
deeply ingrained
on the basalt stack
at mark thirty two
whispering summer winds
scented oil
cotton and roe
drift
as waves brush
and shape
the sandstone shore
the briny air
and lost erratic
set a tone to this
pollyanna portrait
it's andrews undulations
and gifted benches
its concessions
and traces of the barry burn
its sculpted driftwood
and sanko lines
make this picture
almost perfect
children play
as venom spews
from the caterwaul pair
those odd looking mates
casting smiles
with arrested despair
settling shots
swiping bugs
dipping and darting
as photo men
and muscles
and long neck seabirds
make their turn
the hunched hoody
and his sorted sidekick
get their fill
(of moss and rubble ~ chubby and kelp)
nice to meet your acquaintance
the pho man would say
an odd drop
and ironic turn
from those horrific corners
of timeless desperation
down by cannon bridge
harbor seals
and carriage horse
are fronted by
raven shade
jolly tides pause
in quiet bays
(with curious looters
and *** pickers)
sand merchants
and field totems
all streamed by the light
cirrus strands
blanket the
outer edge
hovering craft
and shimmering willows
bolt the evening frame
blood orange
and tethered
with a filtered glare
bottle-nose dolphins
and seabirds
(and shifting tides)
are all settling in
for the long night stay
Mar 9, 2017
Mar 9, 2017 at 11:21 PM UTC
Iron bench, open sore
dragon rock, three in score
flesh on body, tortured soul
arms high, in hell's hole
Corner bulb, neon light
drake hotel, second flight
jolly pop, rizla plus
open flame, behind the bus
Broken fixtures, tully hat
channel swimmer, at the bat
blind alley, words of cuss
dealer waving, in a fuss
Grim reaper, boys in blue
super bee, armored shrew
****** sips, swollen glands
potpourri, on demand
Black death, huddler's arch
beat the cold, and summer parch
toothless grin, ****** glare
obituary, to be shared
Dead of night, decontrol
cheeva tar, black coal
east central, chinatown
mr. freeze, is coming down
Foot soldier, skidder row
chicken feed, and white blow
silver spoon, casted hand
demons surface, on demand
Frantic sounds, below the glass
poison waiting, to be passed
crack pipes, over coat
bodies flat, begin to float
Gospel sounds, from union square
friends gather, deep in prayer
guardian angels, now deployed
thornton park, without a void
Covenant house, in holy charm
welcomes all, with open arms
salvation spreads, on chapel row
kindness that, cannot be sold
Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 5:36 PM UTC
Oh how I hate
this time of year,
with the stupid songs
and holiday cheer...
Annoying bell ringers
outside the store,
and the tacky wreaths
hanging on the door.
Cardboard calendars
filled with waxy treats,
ice and snow making
death traps of streets.
Frazzled parents
spending more then they should
on entitled kids
who are far from good.
Fake smiles & wishes
in the "spirit" of it all,
the empty shelves-
the crowds at the mall.
The hour long line
to see Santa the phony
who falsely promises
an x-box or a pony.
Having to gather
with family who annoy,
gifting another cheap
Chinese-made toy.
Fire hazards
strung with tinsel and lights,
tensions leading
to fun Christmas fights!
Secret Santas-
holiday parties for work-
ugly sweaters
making you look like a ****
The stress of having
an enormous list
and a tiny budget
just makes me ******
No, nothing seems jolly
or merry or bright...
Oh how I can't wait
till post-Christmas night!
Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 9:24 PM UTC
For he's a jolly good fellow,
adorned in yellow and love,
it was hard to see his face through the smoke of a three blunt rotation, but I could feel his heart beating from across the trailer.
Worn out eighties music was the unofficial theme of the night and I think we lived up to the expectations Eddie Murphy set for his.
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 1:43 AM UTC
My sister,
an annoying blister.
In the depth of my relaxation,
she bombards me with such nonsense and retardation.
Like she's designed to disrupt every source of silence,
while I'm diving in the ****** of my imagination.
My sister,
full of spirit and laughter.
Her jolly heart is something I feel obligated to look after.
My sister,
Although having her endless branches of imagination,
says that I'm her inspiration.
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 6:49 PM UTC
Mrs. Claus was at the door
Making sure that Santa knew
He had to see the doctor
He must be there by two
Santa gruffed and grumbled
Said there's too much to be done
"You know I hate the doctor"
"The doctor's just no fun"
Mrs. Claus held fast and said
"You do this every year"
"and you always have a new excuse"
"when the appointment time is near"
Santa, said he'd do it
Although, it was done under duress
He could run an elven workshop
But the doctor, was more stress
He made it to the office
At two, precisely on the nose
The first thing the nurse said was
"Santa, take off all your clothes"
"You know we have to weigh you"
"It's in the contract that you signed"
"A little extra weight shift"
"Could get the sleigh all misaligned"
The scale said way past jolly
He was twenty pounds past plump
He was just below horrendous
Santa Claus was one fat lump
The doctor read the clipboard
And made a tsk tsk tsking sound
He said "Santa, you're much bigger"
"You're almost 5 full feet around"
"I have with me a letter"
"That the vet asked me to read"
"It says unless you drop some blubber"
"Four more reindeer you will need"
"Now, every story book out there"
"Names eight reindeer in line"
"And since you hired Rudolph"
"A lot have you with nine"
"But the vet now says you need thirteen"
"To get up in the sky"
"You've got to change your diet"
"Santa, please lay off the pie"
"I'm not saying all at once"
"But, you've got to drop some weight"
"Or, you'll be dropping gifts by plane"
"And you'll still be over weight"
Santa tried a little laugh,
Not a full out ** ** **
Truth be told, he'd lose his breath
He knew the weight would have to go
He got down off the table
Put on his hat, and Santa Suit
He looked as red as ever
When he tried to reach his boot
The doctor said "Good God Man"
"You can't go up like that"
Santa said "I'm fine doc"
"The kids want a Santa that is fat"
"There's a difference between jolly"
"Like the elf you're supposed to be"
"But Santa, count your chins man,"
"I lose count at twenty three"
"The elves are under orders"
"Not to load the magic sleigh"
"Until you commit to weight loss"
"And you promise right away"
"I know that you are Santa"
"And for this I may get coal"
"But, your wife, Santa...she scares me"
"She said she'd put me in a hole"
"Santa, lose some poundage"
"Give it just a little try"
"It's not right...thirteen reindeer"
"Flying through the Christmas sky"
"I know it's confidential"
"what has happened here today"
"But, Santa...I will tell her"
"If you don't...and right away"
Santa, said he'd try to
He said "just tell me what to do"
"Truth be told there doctor"
"The woman scares me too!!!"
Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 10:24 PM UTC
She's done it! She's free!
But now that "She" is a "He"!
I'm proud of Him. As should be!
For now he smiles in glee!
He's jolly again, grins from ear to ear!
I can't help but shed a tear.
I'll support you always my darling dear.
Even when the bullies sneer.
Bu my Hannah is now a Ryan.
Once a woman, now a man.
You're doing what I can't;
You're restarting your life and its just began.
I'm so proud of you.
But you already knew.
I'll support you through and through,
Even when life becomes anew.
Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 7:45 PM UTC
I see her often ....struggling all alone.
A diaper bag, pocketbook and the baby.
The look of distress on her face as she pushes the stroller home.
She raises her child all by herself.
Her pockets are not overflowing ....which means she's lacking wealth.
She shuffles off to work each day.
She's wondering when they will increase the dollars in her pay.
Single mom to some, Superwoman to her kids.....no regrets, it is what it is.
How I admire her strength and drive.
She's strong during the day, but at night she cries.
This is not the way it was supposed to be.
My child should be seeing double not just me.
Her mind is steady racing, but this is not a race.
The thought started here and now it's in a different place.
The sacrifices and staying up late when her child is sick.
She's snapping pictures at Christmas time as her daughter opens presents left by jolly ole Saint Nick.
She's thankful for this precious jewel that she must shape and shine.
Smiling as she puts her child to bed, because she has to be at work by nine.
There's always something to be done, so there's not much time to sit.
This is a full time job and one which she can't quit.
The cooking, the cleaning and washing clothes,
she's looking for some tissues so she can wipe a runny nose.
She thinks she's a single mom, but that's not entirely true.
The Lord is guiding and assisting ....pulling her through.
Keep your head up and don't let anyone or anything bring you down.
A queen's crown belongs on her head.....not upon the ground.
A dedication to the single mother's........Thank you for all that you do and have done.
Oct 7, 2012
Oct 7, 2012 at 1:07 PM UTC
At least with Solemn Differences sing
Honouring Friends of Great Cheer celebrate
Your arm on her lap; The other on him
And with a Flash these Blue Knights consecrate
Jolly, so Potent turn Tan into Red
That pleasant alarm Blue Oracles see
And guess which Debate your Incarnate fed
Whether you are or whether not to be
Ready for Cause to the Next Big Event
Telling yourself to Inspiration run
Foresaw this Scope: Friendship and Teamwork's meant
But all of this time it was just for Fun.
Seriousness Adore, Someone licks the Tip
In your Patron; Which was really your lip.
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 2:23 AM UTC
When you travel in the car and the journey is too far...
Fill the cabinet with all the required stuffs,
It will be more exciting when you travel with a group.
Raise the woofers up ,
And eat the tasty stuffs.
Just Play the jolly tune,
It'll make your lazy mood.
When you see something unique,
Stop a while and take a click.
Still the destination is too far,
You're feeling tired and so is your car…
It’s time for a short break,
stretch your body and take a breathe,
When your body gets re-energised,
It’s tym to resume your lovely drive,
Destination is not always necessary to take,
Sometimes the road trip is what we want to make…
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 1:28 PM UTC
“What do you think
The bravest drink
Under the sky?”
“Strong beer,” said I.
“There’s a place for everything,
Everything, anything,
There’s a place for everything
Where it ought to be:
For a chicken, the hen’s wing;
For poison, the bee’s sting;
For almond-blossom, Spring;
A beerhouse for me.”
“There’s a prize for every one
Every one, any one,
There’s a prize for every one,
Whoever he may be:
Crags for the mountaineer,
Flags for the Fusilier,
For English poets, beer!
Strong beer for me!”
“Tell us, now, how and when
We may find the bravest men?”
“A sure test, an easy test:
Those that drink beer are the best,
Brown beer strongly brewed,
English drink and English food.”
Oh, never choose as Gideon chose
By the cold well, but rather those
Who look on beer when it is brown,
Smack their lips and gulp it down.
Leave the lads who tamely drink
With Gideon by the water brink,
But search the benches of the Plough,
The Tun, the Sun, the Spotted Cow,
For jolly rascal lads who pray,
Pewter in hand, at close of day,
“Teach me to live that I may fear
The grave as little as my beer.”
8k
Against the thick black curtain on horizon
of still, gigantic cumulus cloud formation
three flitting army helicopters deftly display
a shadow play on jolly life of dragonflies,
I am compelled to think, as I drive past this
along the road skirting Bangalore garrison
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 10:59 AM UTC
8th grade.
That was the year everything
went to hell.
That was the year I went on a diet.
I decided to shed
my last shred
of dignity,
along with 60+ pounds
in order to impress the boy with the dark, curly hair.
That was the year I lied to my parents.
"Did you eat dinner?" they asked.
"Yes," I replied,
and they believed me.
They couldn't tell
that something wasn't quite right
with their perfect little girl,
who was starving for the perfect body,
and for attention from the boy with the dark, curly hair.
That was the year teachers began to ask questions.
Mr. May, with the spiky hair and burly arms,
glanced suspiciously at my pale skin,
eerily translucent and decorated with bruises.
Mrs. Fitz, who had recently been on a diet herself,
always made sure that I had a lunch,
although she never made sure I ate it.
Mrs. ***** a small woman with a big personality,
used to make comments about eating disorders
just to get a rise out of me,
and when that didn't work,
she went a step farther.
Mr. Daley, the 7th and 8th grade guidance counselor,
consumed every lie I fed him,
and when I grabbed a Jolly Rancher off his desk
on my way back to class,
he smiled with triumph,
as if he had cured me,
but he didn't see me throw it away
as soon as I got home.
Those extra 15 calories
would have ruined my chances with the boy with the dark, curly hair.
That was the year I couldn't leave the house without a sweater
because, even on the warmest day, I couldn't stop shivering.
That was the year all of my hair fell out.
That was the year I lost most of my friends.
That was the year everything went to hell
because of a boy with dark, curly hair.
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 10:48 AM UTC
Avuncular in his style, jolly and loud
An epiphany with an entourage
Of functionaries who survey the crowd
For any lack of enthusiasm
Applaud they must, wearing upon command
Cheap slogan tees averring that their school
Is like totally awesome and ‘way cool
They leap and bounce and cheer as they are told
Chanting a theme, this year’s predictable theme
Desperately cute, a motivational meme -
Oh, those childish, subservient creatures!
The worst part is that they are the
teachers
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 7:57 PM UTC
On a misty city morning
still resolved to early rising
I came upon a heap of corpses
They were child sacrifices
made to satisfy the fancy
of Christian capitalist and pagan
and a jolly old fat man
who lives at the North Pole
They might have been
growing tall
in a field or on a hill
drinking sunlight
breathing love songs
in answer to caress of wind
But the silent pines
didn't seem to mind
their broken bodies one last gift
filling my chest with fragrant air
and longings
for fields and hills
on a misty city morning
Jan 17, 2019
Jan 17, 2019 at 10:17 AM UTC
I just got some vibes of time,
Some jolly good vibes of time,
That tomorrow will be a good day,
That tomorrow is every next day,
So I should rejoice & not be morose,
Because 'morrow's gonna be good,
Yes, tomorrow is every next day.
But it's never today,
It's always tomorrow,
Tomorrow it'll be the day after,
Happiness comes after it's too late,
But yes,
I got vibes & I'll be happy someday.
Till the sun shines high above,
And I'm alive,
That hope remains,
I'll be happy emotionally,
I wasn't yesterday,
I'm not today,
I'll definitely be happy someday,
I'll be happy someday.
Yes, someday..
Someday...
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 12:05 AM UTC
* soft spoken intro *
*The tree,
With its lights,
***** and tinsel,
Garland, excitement,
Of these nights,
The mistletoe and a star…
Ornaments,
See the candy canes,
Icicles,
And a door wreath,
On a cold,
Snowy Christmas Eve!
Toys of Elvin-creation gleam, faces of the children they smile and beam, pitter-patter sounds of feet stomp -ing; it’s a cold snowy Christmas Eve!
A night of magic you won’t believe; it’s a cold snowy Christmas Eve!
Santa Claus and Christmas-time, sing a-long with our cheery rhyme, nothing ever feels so fine; it’s a cold snowy Christmas Eve!
A night of magic you won’t believe; it’s a cold snowy Christmas Eve!
Spicy scent of pumpkin pies, hear the reindeer when his sleigh arrives, toting presents that jolly guy; it’s a cold snowy Christmas Eve!
A night of magic you won’t believe; it’s a cold snowy Christmas Eve!
Santa, St. Nick, Sinterklaas, around the whole world in one night -no pause, and a childhood feeling that’ll never be lost; it’s a cold snowy Christmas Eve!
A night of magic you won’t believe; it’s a cold snowy Christmas Eve!
Tally-Ho! Jolly-fun! The night ain’t over till Santa’s done; a night of magic you won’t believe, it’s a cold snowy Christmas Eve!
It’s a cold snowy Christmas Eve!
A cold snowy Christmas Eve!
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 5:13 PM UTC
Burnt adolescence, the smell of survivors
The satiric regime beholds.
White-gloved landlords, picking at grapefruit
By what means was this chapter told?
By a pigheaded guerilla lad
In a trench coat and top hat
With an ego to the distance of the sun
Alcohol is flammable
To the ones with sharpened mandibles
For myself, it was all jolly good fun
Jun 17, 2012
Jun 17, 2012 at 12:38 AM UTC
Some Jamie snugly in me hand,
A cause for celebration,
Today, I found me promised land:
The home of Irish nation.
I dyed me hair shamrock green,
I made me teeth look orange,
(A spliff of Carroll's in between)
A sliver of Dutch courage.
I mingle with the leprechauns
(A shamrock on me chest)
Not in a thousand years gone,
I’m messing with the best.
Atop the jolly rainbow,
In hand – a *** of gold,
Revering, till I find me rest,
The stories I’ve been told.
Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 2:49 AM UTC
The naked is not dangerous.
Lust filling the eyes of young.
Full bodied stretching
yearning for what is to ***
or merely done
For the sake of comfort.
Not a foreign folly
But a jolly adventure
letting the wind and water
wash away the stress of the days.
Naked as the snakes
or the furless babies
breastfeeding at their mother’s breast.
**** and curved.
Fat or muscled.
Not dangerous, but beautiful
like Michelangelo’s David.
The **** does not destroy
neither does the ******
****** does not diminish our morality.
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 1:03 PM UTC
I'm told its best to eat low on the food chain
so if its okay
i'll start at your feet
and work my way up tenderly
excited like a child climbing a great tree
for the first time
aspiring to your kind mouth
but forgive me my love, alas my manners
have left me
and
i fear i'm stuck between your thighs
your shimmering slit has me woozy
oooh candy red lolly
so very cherry jolly
my favorite color since i was six years old
you know
and so wet like babies drool
can we open this butter cup
it all loving alizarin silk
a gift for my tongue
splashing pink
little fluttering bull frog
ready to turn into your prince
the taste of epiphany
my attention deficient disorder
vanquished
my learning disabilities evaporated
why didn't they teach me to read like this
i can taste the entire alphabet inside of you
numbers come with colors now
making sense suddenly
i feel the alchemy of poetry and art
high mathematics and astrophysics
i hear the music of the spheres
and every molecule
of
the earth giving birth
to the spice of creation
next you say,
would i like to know the constellations of heaven
yes please my lady
i'm definitely going to kiss your ***
May 12, 2018
May 12, 2018 at 4:34 PM UTC
*Tazaad-e-Jazbaat Mein Ye Naazuk
Maqaam Aaya To Kya Karo Gay*
**In contradiction of these emotions if that
Delicate moment unfolded - then what would you do?**
*Main Ro Raha *** Tum Hans Rahe **
Main Muskaraya To Kya Karo Gay*
**I am weeping and yet you are jolly
But if I smiled - then what would you do?**
*Mujhe To Is Darja Vaqt-e-Rukhsat
Sukun Ki Talqeen Kar Rahe **
**To me at this time of farewell
Instructions of tranquillity you are offering**
*Magar Kuch Apne Liye Bhi Socha
Main Yaad Aaya To Kya Karo Gay*
**But have you any thoughts for yourself?
If you recalled me - then what would you do?**
*Abhi To Tanqid ** Rahi Hai
Mere Mazaq-e-Junun Pe Lekin*
**For now there is criticism
On my state of madness but**
*Tumhari Zulfon Ki Barhami Ka
Sawaal Aaya To Kya Karo Gay*
**If scattering of your tresses is
Questioned - then what would you do?**
*Tumhare Jalvon Ki Roshni Mein
Nazar Ki Hairania Musallam*
**Within the splendour of your light
Is complete amazement of sight**
*Magar Kisi Ne Nazar Ke Badle
Jo Dil Aazmaya To Kya Karo Gay*
**Nevertheless if someone in return
Tested your heart - then what would you do?**
*Utar To Sakte ** Paar Lekin
Ma Aal Par Bhi Nigah Dalo*
**You can disembark across but
Take a glance at the result too**
*Khuda Na Karda Sukun-e-Sahil
Na Raas Aaya To Kya Karo Gay*
**God has not made a peaceful shore
If nothing suitable appears - then what would you do?**
*Kuch Apne Dil Par Bhi Zakham Khao
Mere Lahoo Ki Bahar Kab Tak*
**Take some wounds on your heart also
Season of my blood until when?**
*Mujhe Sahara Banane Vaalo
Main Larkharaya To Kya Karo Gay*
**Those in need of my support
If I show hostility - then what would you do?**
*Abhi To Daman Chura Rahe **
Bigar Ke Qabil Se Ja Rahe **
**For now you are leaving my hand
And you are parting away from Qabil**
*Magar Kabhi Jo Dharkano Mein
Sharik Paya To Kya Karo Gay*
**Yet sooner or later within your heartbeats
If I became a associated - then what would you do?**
— Translated by Jamil Hussain, Poet Qabil Ajmeri, Sung by Sabri Brothers
Oct 26, 2016
Oct 26, 2016 at 5:48 AM UTC
Jolly old St. Nicholas,
lean your ear this way.
There’s something to be said
for the Santa role you play.
You bring happiness to children
with bikes, and dolls and toys,
and instill the Christmas spirit
into grown-up girls and boys.
But you know the greatest gift
isn’t found upon your sled,
and it isn’t all the sugar plumbs
that dance in children’s heads.
It is not one brought by Dasher,
or by Donner, or by Dancer.
It came wrapped in swaddling clothing.
Even Santa knows the answer.
The greatest gift is Jesus Christ.
The Savior of the earth.
And Christmas is the special day
we celebrate His birth
Christ was born into the world
and taught us all He could.
He knows if we’ve been good or bad,
and hopes we’ll all be good.
Santa, we’ll enjoy the gifts
that on Christmas come our way
but it’s not gifts,…It’s Christ the Lord,
we celebrate this day!
Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 10:24 AM UTC