"kingsley" poems
jamie taught us salt,
nigella, the art of the beef stew
cake boss, the art of chocolate fondant,
the mafia
so rich and chewy
mafia,
the true american dream
richness and trophies and abraham
the mob engulfs the flames of life.
Nigel asleep in his room
sound, it wakes him
Nigel, he says
remember the naked chef
remember him
forever
Nigel goes downstairs
pours a glass of milk
grabs a cupcake
one boxed
he cries a tear of shame
as he remembers
Jamie Oliver
his queen
his Kingsley
his Oakley
his larry
his life
was a box of chocolate
he grabbed the caramel
but was greedy and seized the brie also
it was a sad day
as Nigel fell
off the cliff of life
into a hovel of doom...
the mob,
Nigel,
all attached
no way out
Brie
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 8:46 PM UTC
When I was a kid, round here
purple sweet peas carpeted common ground.
Thick, and ripe for picking
in their depths we found
all manner of detritus,
single shoes and old **** mags.
My friends and I went roaming
with our secrets and five ****
Down on Slade Green marshes
fearless urban rangers,
ankle deep in water
never minding dangers.
Our private wilderness so bloomed
and we sank into its mire.
Running, jumping, singing, shouting
our youth ablaze, on fire.
Untouched as we believed it
that ground had seen its share,
of blood and fear and wanting,
we didn't know (or care).
Needles in emplacements
left by no one soldier brave.
****** was young back then,
at least, around our way.
In my peaceful ignorance
of 'paedos' underground,
I hid among the rusting hulks
waiting to be found.
Underneath the tower block,
the thirteenth floor my home,
a dragon in the ******* chute!
Imagination sown.
Each time that the fire brigade
came screaming to a halt,
to extinguish yet another mischief
for which none would be caught.
Our little speck of landing
Mrs Kingsley kept so clean,
a bizzy lizzy at her door
she visits me in dreams.
Skin shiny over knuckles
a worn-thin wedding band.
Her flowery dress, neatly pressed,
a duster in her hand.
And I guess she's been dead years now.
She was old as could be then.
I never knew, the day we moved,
I'd not see her face again.
But, move we did,
from 'the flats', to number ninety-nine.
We had gardens - front AND back -
my own bedroom, yes! All mine!
From the windows of our council house
the world changed, all around.
The sweet peas were uprooted,
houses claimed my common ground.
So, I don't own it any more,
if I ever did.
But home is home, wherever,
inside I'm still that kid.
Who ran and jumped and shouted,
a childhood held dear,
and though I think "I've come so far"
my life began round here.
Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 7:08 PM UTC
Depression you hear is deep in my gut
I feel it
I know it ain’t clear
The message is rough
Dismiss it my life is turmoil
Crashing and burning all around me
Think I’m about to fly
I hug the ground
A different kind of landing
Tell my mama that I’m sorry
Tell my brother I was too week
Tell my little sister she’s a queen and never ever do this
Walk in the footsteps of our forefathers
I’m a bad imitation
About to finish of my sermon
Place it under my phone, passwords deactivated
Because I want someone to know
I want someone to care
I went everyone to learn
4 tick to midnight, I hear it ring last chance
maybe god still loves me
Maybe someone remembered my name
Maybe someone is reaching out to me
Stop, hold on.
I pick up...
Hello there I was looking to speak with Mr kingsley In regards to the newest and
peep peep peep
I hung the phone
I hung my soul
I hung.
Rex Verum Regem
TFK
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 1:08 AM UTC
CAIN
By Ariana Reines
The city was humming gently under me
Like an adolescent quaffing deeply
from the cup of righteousness
Out of practice with my own world
I was looking at how someone else saw it
Longer than I realized
Longer than I care to admit
Those goggles left a mark on me
Then I stared at my own face
An invitation came with my face
To melancholy while Nature
Purred at the edges of my perception
And before me lay a broad road
Enjoining me to do of myself and make
Of myself according to the American
Tradition. Secretly I felt and knew
Things I had not perceived my body
Turning into secrets. In other words
I did not notice the mechanism
By which something within me noted
My experiences and apprehensions of ‘the truth’
Would not be met with favor if I spoke them
Which is not to say one speaks only to find favor
Only that unreciprocated realities have a boring
Way of haunting the cells
Pulling them somehow down
Like the countenance of Cain
Which fell one day and never rose
Again, and the fall of his face
Rhymed with the fall out of Eden
Leading to the first murder and the invention
Of cities, where we now find ourselves
Each tower the ghost of a farmer
Who failed to meet the favor of the Lord
<|>
Anne Boyer is a poet and an essayist. Her memoir about cancer and care, “The Undying,” won a 2020 Pulitzer Prize for general nonfiction. Ariana Reines is a poet, a performing artist and a playwright from Salem, Mass. “A Sand Book” won the 2020 Kingsley Tufts Poetry Award. She runs Invisible College, a study hall for poetry, sacred texts and the arts. This poem is from her next book, “The Rose.”
Sep 23, 2023
Sep 23, 2023 at 10:24 AM UTC
There is a great party on Neptune and
Brian Allan brought two mates who were
Ken Kingsley and bob broadsmith and
They started off drinking heaps of methane and dAnced to Judas Priest
And yeah it was fun as ken took his clothes off for cilla black and said do you want to go on a blind date and cilla said ok why not and then Sam kinison came in and sAng wild thing you make my heart sing and it matesmy heart come out of your body it will make you wanna scream and then Sam sang take your clothes off to belinda emmett and
Belinda was left mesmerised and then they sang along to nothin but a good time
Not a dime I cannot pay my rent
It
I can barely make it through the night
It's Saturday night and It!'s party night
So we have to figure out how to make my ends meet and baz boy chucked a methane smoothie all over us and said yeah I will show you cool because I did
That a All for mummy to make her feel better and now I will
methane all over you Brian right now and Marilyn Monroe sang a look in your eyes can be quite continental but diamonds are a girls best friend
You heavy metal music is taking over and I an Emily Symons and Brian dressed up as Santa and said August fool it's not Christmas it's just a regular party
And slim fudty sang I would love to have a beer with Patrick I would love to have a beer with pat we drink in moderation and I am calling him up here in 5 seconds flat we drink in the town and country where the atmosphere is great we love to have a beer with Patrick cause he is our mate and I would love to have a beer with pauly I would love to have a beer with Paul
We would sit in our plsvet and listen to kiss to our ears bleed we drink in the tosh and country
Where the atmosphere is great
I would love onto have a beer with pauly cause he is our mate you see now we have Robert palmer with all his dancing girls the lights Re pk but your not home you see the afterlife is so much fun
Everyone is really having fun even conservos Luke Margaret thatcher and robald reageb as I stic my finger am up saying stic it where it fits and you might as well face it your addicted to money
And everyone was tipping met gab on each other and Brian said I have to leave, U.S. Know things to do
But this is where you dead people can be so uplifting
Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 4:31 AM UTC
There is a great party on Neptune and
Brian Allan brought two mates who were
Ken Kingsley and bob broadsmith and
They started off drinking heaps of methane and dAnced to Judas Priest
And yeah it was fun as ken took his clothes off for cilla black and said do you want to go on a blind date and cilla said ok why not and then Sam kinison came in and sAng wild thing you make my heart sing and it matesmy heart come out of your body it will make you wanna scream and then Sam sang take your clothes off to belinda emmett and
Belinda was left mesmerised and then they sang along to nothin but a good time
Not a dime I cannot pay my rent
It
I can barely make it through the night
It's Saturday night and It!'s party night
So we have to figure out how to make my ends meet and baz boy chucked a methane smoothie all over us and said yeah I will show you cool because I did
That a All for mummy to make her feel better and now I will
methane all over you Brian right now and Marilyn Monroe sang a look in your eyes can be quite continental but diamonds are a girls best friend
You heavy metal music is taking over and I an Emily Symons and Brian dressed up as Santa and said August fool it's not Christmas it's just a regular party
And slim fudty sang I would love to have a beer with Patrick I would love to have a beer with pat we drink in moderation and I am calling him up here in 5 seconds flat we drink in the town and country where the atmosphere is great we love to have a beer with Patrick cause he is our mate and I would love to have a beer with pauly I would love to have a beer with Paul
We would sit in our plsvet and listen to kiss to our ears bleed we drink in the tosh and country
Where the atmosphere is great
I would love onto have a beer with pauly cause he is our mate you see now we have Robert palmer with all his dancing girls the lights Re pk but your not home you see the afterlife is so much fun
Everyone is really having fun even conservos Luke Margaret thatcher and robald reageb as I stic my finger am up saying stic it where it fits and you might as well face it your addicted to money
And everyone was tipping met gab on each other and Brian said I have to leave, U.S. Know things to do
But this is where you dead people can be so uplifting
Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 4:18 AM UTC
Rough spoken men with hands like shovels
Overbearing women full of laughter and cuddles
***** brick mills and deserted old pits
United and City and kids with zits
Redundant old docks where boats used to sail
Now luxury penthouses for the rich to prevail
Finney, Kingsley and the great Robert Powell
The Hollies, the Beatles and the Gallaghers scowl
Tony Wilson, Factory Records and his rebellious acts
Hadrians Walls reveals many artefacts
Strangeways, gangsters and criminal ways
But our streets are safe as the government says
Tramstops, trainlines and buses fly along
Taking the North West’s finest to the places they belong
Canal Street, China town and the Northern Quarter
Scarily high death rates in the cold bitter water
Pride, Eid and diversity through the streets
Down the motorway lies the Cavern where the Liverpudlians still meet
Tragedy and solidarity and the beautiful bee crest
This is my place of birth this is the North West
Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 6:14 PM UTC
This is for the introverted kid on his lonesome
One of Lauryn Hills lost ones
Eyes burning him down like acidic solvents
Pressed down and sprayed at for low prices like cheap deodorants
Ever-changing skintone from the haematomas
Losing friends who he's been with the closest
What's the point keep cards close to your chest if you're just gonna fold quick
Council estates have turned into war camps
Now the ends are looking like Colditz
I guess that'd explain why everyone in the bits is speaking Polish
Youths are hiding in alleyways gripping knives that are stolen
With a razor sharp focus
Aligning the moment then he zones in
An act of violence turns to a condolence
Flowers and roses
A single mothers heart is broken
Shattered and open
Tears stream that could fill an ocean
The kid was sacrificed and cut inside like Kingsley Coman
Underhand tactics used like sneaky trojans
It was for the kid I bet you
The ambience started hard but went soft like fresh fruits
Just be careful and keep those that respect you.
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 12:07 PM UTC