Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"ladled" poems
This woman speaks in tongues Foreign languages roll from her mouth Like summer fog ladled over the rim Of Candlestick Park In the not-so-distant Far far away of long long ago This woman speaks in rotund sentences Effulgent with vocabulary That shimmers with the electrified joy Of lights over Ghirardelli Square In the not-so-darkness Of the clammy and cabalistic night This woman speaks with her hands Impresciable, implacable, and inconsolable As she tries to mold untranslatable words From air that is as thin As the promises she’d preferred And purchased with the shards of her heart This woman speaks in lyrics Arpeggios of adjectives and alliteration That tumble acrobatically with the intricacy And grace Of a hummingbird in spring On the kiss of a blossom Rich and fragrant and giving as This woman speaking in tongues
0
May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 4:35 PM UTC
Con la Nonna Rotondetto in Cucina di Musica
a polar vortex swirls eastward on Siberian Tiger paws bounding over Appalachian Highlands gobbling geography gelling Great Lakes spawning Erie blizzards sculpting Wabash ice floes clogging commerce all along the Ohio River Valley this voracious juggernaut’s wide maw bears icicle teeth laughing as it swallows Pittsburgh, Little Philly, and a Big Apple, before gorging itself on generous portions ladled into simmering crocks of steaming Boston Baked Beans growling blue arctic air blasts roar bursts pipes savages the heat of blasting furnaces, bubbling boilers, hot belly stoves frantically drinking oil, flaming gas burning wood and burping soot the blistering jet stream claws screech a slashing stratospheric hum as Frigidaire blasts swallows breath brittles limbs chafes cheeks gnaws earlobes crystallizes tears nibbles nostrils cubes snot numbs toes bites digits diving sub zero gradient subdues batteries to deaden states delays buses derails trains cuts power constricts veins preys on vagabonds and animals get the homeless off the street! bring the animals in check on your elderly neighbors don’t get caught outside and shut the **** door! do you own stock in the Public Service? beware the polar vortex and next months heating bill Sonny Boy Williamson & Otis Spann Nine Below Zero Oakland 1/6/14 jbm
0
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 2:43 PM UTC
Polar Vortex
I spent Thanksgiving this year not in the blue-collar comfort of my aunt’s house, nestled somewhere within a well-buried suburb of a quaint, but un-noteworthy neighborhood with walls decorated with Budweiser signs juxtaposed against portraits of the ****** Mary, where a football announcer’s voice plays like conservative talk radio in the background. Instead, to save the labor of my weary immigrant grandmother, we dressed in Sunday best and drove ourselves in three well-packed mini vans to some elegant hotel restaurant, ideal for people-watching from the gaudy, art-deco staircase while pretending to be in the Great Gatsby. It didn’t feel natural, though, that beside a modest turkey breast with cranberry dressing, sat a beautiful cut of prime rib, carefully ladled with truffle au juis– nor beside a humble dollop of mashed potatoes and gravy, should there be salmon to die for, and berries slathered with brie. The food I nibbled with bites of nervous guilt, as the impeccably dressed waiter exhaustedly refilled our water glasses, nodding his head reflexively to my mouse squeaks of “thank you’s” What monsters are we, letting these people work on Thanksgiving Day? Grandma said, calmly, that some people are just happy to be paid, recounting her impoverished childhood in war-torn Germany— that to simply muffle the aggressive rumbling of a days-empty stomach, she and her brother would ****** a handful of potatoes from a government farm, not many, but just enough as she grimaced at the ever-so-slight mealiness of her rosemary-infused pork chop— the woman who couldn’t afford ham until she became a citizen. We nodded quietly and swallowed our privileged guilt, washed down with politely cut bites of perfectly cooked salmon.
0
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 3:17 PM UTC
"On Privilege"
I spent Thanksgiving this year not in the blue-collar comfort of my aunt’s house, nestled somewhere within a well-buried suburb of a quaint, but un-noteworthy neighborhood with walls decorated with Budweiser signs juxtaposed against portraits of the ****** Mary, where a football announcer’s voice plays like conservative talk radio in the background. Instead, to save the labor of my weary immigrant grandmother, we dressed in Sunday best and drove ourselves in three well-packed mini vans to some elegant hotel restaurant, ideal for people-watching from the gaudy, art-deco staircase while pretending to be in the Great Gatsby. It didn’t feel natural, though, that beside a modest turkey breast with cranberry dressing, sat a beautiful cut of prime rib, carefully ladled with truffle au juis– nor beside a humble dollop of mashed potatoes and gravy, should there be salmon to die for, and berries slathered with brie. The food I nibbled with bites of nervous guilt, as the impeccably dressed waiter exhaustedly refilled our water glasses, nodding his head reflexively to my mouse squeaks of “thank you’s” What monsters are we, letting these people work on Thanksgiving Day? Grandma said, calmly, that some people are just happy to be paid, recounting her impoverished childhood in war-torn Germany— that to simply muffle the aggressive rumbling of a days-empty stomach, she and her brother would ****** a handful of potatoes from a government farm, not many, but just enough as she grimaced at the ever-so-slight mealiness of her rosemary-infused pork chop— the woman who couldn’t afford ham until she became a citizen. We nodded quietly and swallowed our privileged guilt, washed down with politely cut bites of perfectly cooked salmon.
Continue reading...
60
"I want you all to put a paintbrush to that canvas and sign your signature." eyes danced around the room too scared to land anywhere what a beautiful, devastating masterpiece   The canvas filled with every shade of our pain No one else would understand the hues of our language The way the splatters aligned just right Our messy beautiful pain New age art therapy ******** I watched you all throw colours at the wall of white Behind your protective sheet And scream in voices I'd never heard about, rage, about misery Covered in every colour of the rainbow and tears and snot and memories Some broke down and cried "WHY, WHY THE **** DID YOU HAVE TO DIE?!" Reminded me of my brothers paint ball party But without the clowns without the laughter Just a bunch of screaming, incomprehensible children "HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO ME?"                          why? Some broke more than their share of things Now look look at that picture we painted Isn't it beautiful aren't the colours just right? Bright orange, Yellow Doesn't it hurt your eyes Now look, black blue Like the bruises inside you Look at us, If I could take a picture of the look in each one of your eyes As you ladled fistfuls of paint Of eggs Vases Broke things to mimic the sound of your own Brokenness Onto some chaotic point of oblivion I would say "Wait, ah, there it is, that's what pain looks like."
0
Feb 24, 2012
Feb 24, 2012 at 2:22 PM UTC
That's what your pain looks like
Soft night emerged, came walking across the water, Laid itself down in sheets Across the heaviness of air And all about became its bleak color of darkness. Sounds however refused to Alter their hues with the coming of their unseen makers. From afar Waves broke against the shore And that tender climb reached up And patted me on the shoulder, and I could imagine As it shrank back down to its beach In gentle ladled golden flows, the image of that sound. A spirit remarking in the deep exercised its body. The earth played like an instrument, Or senses broken in half And in that break is reached a hand to take Its feeling straight from sources, Those wonderful vibrations who were changed By steps who filled their path, until the dawn.
0
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 9:55 PM UTC
Sound
Last night I asked Mother Sky to lay me down under the stars. She covered the long day with her black/blue quilt tucking away my rapid heart. Brushing the unkempt hair from my eyes she warmed me with deep sea breaths and showed me how much she loved me. Her finger drew a shooting star as she measured herself in a whisper, "From here, my dear, .........................to there." Mother offered me a drink from her ladled cup. I chose the big one with both hands consuming every drop until my lips finished with a satisfied "Aaaaaaahhh". I handed her the twinkling chalice which she hung again by the North Star. I resigned my head to the grassy pillow my eyes lost in retreat. "Will you sing to me?" I asked sightlessly. From the corners of Endless she coaxed soft soothing melodies, while the Sandman strummed willow trees to her song.
0
Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 11:08 AM UTC
bedtime
It is said in time, That beauty to the beholder is a sensation. The most powerful statement of forgiveness to a human being is the ability to behold and practice creation. Ice figurines can’t hold under heat, Yet their demise creates life sustaining substances, Like dangerous chemical concoctions, Company never really felt completely perfect. We kept masks on when we gathered, It seemed like my friends could have always made it to Hollywood, The way our lives were just mere performances. Highlights of high times, Quality, picture perfect film reels burned into cyberspace, But the ladled space between our fingertips became foreign as the next new emotional overhaul was just fingertips away. Obsessed over why perfection isn’t an issue yet imperfections are celebrated, Yet not the ones you have. What is desire if the object sought is someone else? Elsewhere, the first half of the year is spent trying to remake the second half, pretty in pink, Only when it didn’t rain. So soulless, our bond became, The hollowed Ravens became vultures, Clearing the pathways to prepare for a feast, Not caring whether death would actually take us, But what would be broken would cause the death of our own ways, Our own souls terrified, Shocked to the security of a coffin. Do we merely search for what is rightfully ours? No, For we are dream catchers, Simply grasping for a reality that would be a shame to the creator, Formed by the realtors, Sell your self worth for a secular sense of selfishness, Steal the dream, And be complacent. The worst part wasn’t when I lost you, It was what became of my dreams when I lost myself too. My first half is done. I wish no longer to live the second half in misery through.
0
Aug 12, 2016
Aug 12, 2016 at 9:05 PM UTC
The Misery Journal
It is said in time, That beauty to the beholder is a sensation. The most powerful statement of forgiveness to a human being is the ability to behold and practice creation. Ice figurines can’t hold under heat, Yet their demise creates life sustaining substances, Like dangerous chemical concoctions, Company never really felt completely perfect. We kept masks on when we gathered, It seemed like my friends could have always made it to Hollywood, The way our lives were just mere performances. Highlights of high times, Quality, picture perfect film reels burned into cyberspace, But the ladled space between our fingertips became foreign as the next new emotional overhaul was just fingertips away. Obsessed over why perfection isn’t an issue yet imperfections are celebrated, Yet not the ones you have. What is desire if the object sought is someone else? Elsewhere, the first half of the year is spent trying to remake the second half, pretty in pink, Only when it didn’t rain. So soulless, our bond became, The hollowed Ravens became vultures, Clearing the pathways to prepare for a feast, Not caring whether death would actually take us, But what would be broken would cause the death of our own ways, Our own souls terrified, Shocked to the security of a coffin. Do we merely search for what is rightfully ours? No, For we are dream catchers, Simply grasping for a reality that would be a shame to the creator, Formed by the realtors, Sell your self worth for a secular sense of selfishness, Steal the dream, And be complacent. The worst part wasn’t when I lost you, It was what became of my dreams when I lost myself too. My first half is done. I wish no longer to live the second half in misery through.
Continue reading...
37
. O the trender souls who keep Spewing their ladled ornaments, Words even a dull, starving bird Would not gobble, plastic pieces, Rambles of thought, unthought, Pretty sounding, shiny trinkets, Merely nailed by some old book, Or a dog eared dictionary, maybe, Some pulpy article wherein hacks, Dreamt with loss, sad aspirations, These are the dug trailings of fools, Lazy, writers who fancy themselves, Fancying themselves, in a black mirror, Merciful as imagination and delusion, O how the neophyte sings without any Voice, nor depth, nor taste, nor blood, Conscious revels in unconsciousness, O but lame awaits the vain, the shallow, The self proclaimed, the peacock, but, their Showtime is only something base, something Not and ghost peculiar, something only a carny Would know to mock, revile as he promotes. How glittering are the newest word baubles, Blathering speak to mask all faceless souls, Twaddle, twitterings, revered by simpletons.
0
Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
Revered by Simpletons
I like watching you in the kitchen. Your motions are swift, from the stove to the food processor to the sink to the dishwasher it's one seamless flurry. A graceful hustle. Country music is playing in the background. You don't know all the words, but every once in a while a lyric escapes your honeyed mouth. I smile because it's a line filled with weight. A heavy pondering with careful reflection. I can see that in your smile. As I sit here, eyeing you with adoration, you approach me with a petite sample on a silver fork. I do not hesitate to open my mouth, like a baby bird begging for a secondhand worm. Just like everything you have ever given me, it is marvelous. It's of good quality and impeccable flavor, ladled forth from a generous heart. I like it here in your domain. My eyes will feast on this view forever.
0
Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 11:39 PM UTC
Jam
A standardized suit. A universal fit for all those who do not feel the nourishment of food. A career path cut through the hem of childhood and choked by a cheap thin patterned tie. The mothering of a paranoid system; “it’s not my fault, just jump through the hoops. I get paid to read you this book. Lend me half your ear and I will half teach you: Think. Don’t think.” Spot the simile. Dot the t and circle the i. And I. I am all in a room painted with flyers. They work like road signs, luminescent with lasered ink and ladled with pictures of success. You can. You can’t. You shall. They hang like smiling convicts on the wall. A warning shot to remember every time you catch yourself staring into the sky.
0
May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 5:17 PM UTC
Lesson One
Hieronymus Bosch, who was only four, Had toddled right out of my life, I didn’t know whether he’d gone on his own Or left with the trouble and strife. She’d rave and she’d threaten to fly the coop As she said that my ways were strange, But whether she’d bother to take him too Would have meant a remarkable change. ‘Why did you pick such a horrible name,’ She’d say, as she ladled the stew, ‘You gave him the name of a painter insane,’ (As he baited the bears at the zoo). ‘How can he live a commonplace life With a moniker he can’t spell? You’ve sentenced your son to eternal strife Like that panel, a painting of hell.’ Hieronymus, he didn’t care about this, He wanted to picture his world, He’d flop and he’d slop in the mud, in his bliss, And paint, till his toes had curled. I knew that he’d be a surrealist when He played with his mash, and was cute, He swished it around on his palette to look Like a man with a nose like a flute. ‘That kid is so gruesome,’ the wife had exclaimed, ‘He’s set on a roadway to hell.’ He’d crayoned a picture of me and her sister Entwined on her favourite bell. ‘He isn’t like others,’ I used to exclaim, ‘He sees what he sees inside out, He doesn’t like others, like hair-splitting mothers,’ And that’s when she started to shout. I’ve searched and I’ve searched for Heironymus Bosch, I’m trying to follow his trail, The long line of beetles he captured in treacle, The dead dog that’s eating its tail. I know that he’s not with the trouble and strife For she went into hiding in Greece, He should be called Chester, the lad’s such a jester, I guess I’ll be calling the Police. David Lewis Paget
0
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 3:21 AM UTC
The Quest for Hieronymus Bosch
Hieronymus Bosch, who was only four, Had toddled right out of my life, I didn’t know whether he’d gone on his own Or left with the trouble and strife. She’d rave and she’d threaten to fly the coop As she said that my ways were strange, But whether she’d bother to take him too Would have meant a remarkable change. ‘Why did you pick such a horrible name,’ She’d say, as she ladled the stew, ‘You gave him the name of a painter insane,’ (As he baited the bears at the zoo). ‘How can he live a commonplace life With a moniker he can’t spell? You’ve sentenced your son to eternal strife Like that panel, a painting of hell.’ Hieronymus, he didn’t care about this, He wanted to picture his world, He’d flop and he’d slop in the mud, in his bliss, And paint, till his toes had curled. I knew that he’d be a surrealist when He played with his mash, and was cute, He swished it around on his palette to look Like a man with a nose like a flute. ‘That kid is so gruesome,’ the wife had exclaimed, ‘He’s set on a roadway to hell.’ He’d crayoned a picture of me and her sister Entwined on her favourite bell. ‘He isn’t like others,’ I used to exclaim, ‘He sees what he sees inside out, He doesn’t like others, like hair-splitting mothers,’ And that’s when she started to shout. I’ve searched and I’ve searched for Heironymus Bosch, I’m trying to follow his trail, The long line of beetles he captured in treacle, The dead dog that’s eating its tail. I know that he’s not with the trouble and strife For she went into hiding in Greece, He should be called Chester, the lad’s such a jester, I guess I’ll be calling the Police. David Lewis Paget
Continue reading...
41
i am the father of these words yet, these mischievous children run away in the loquacious dark chasing lithe-clothed, supple-limbed girls whirling up and about the prairie of these versifications without home in mind or remembering — (the home of my mind wary of the past and its old cobwebs, or the slaughter of ordinariness with a dull blade poised to cull, these mindful creatures assassinating diaphanous muses disrobing themselves, serpents shedding their integuments.) oh and when they return home sullied, after a day's squalid scamper past the muck, the twitch of atmosphere, the horizon ladled with clouds in white metamorphosis, i remove their clothes and send them to the fences of sleep — impish dream-callers, yes I am the father of these words and they flourish, swelling up, learning to harangue their own father, sending him to borderless retreat.
0
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 9:08 AM UTC
Father Of These Words
I inverted my cast iron pan while getting my cake batter ready And ladled in globs of batter against mirror black I stacked fruit into corners to get nice and crusty And I'm burning inside to get fat.
0
Feb 24, 2021
Feb 24, 2021 at 12:58 PM UTC
Upside down bake
how each day comes to me burdened with the sorrows of yesterday my hope for overnight calm diminished shattered with the gaping dawn how each day drags for me ladled with added suffering and worry building to a crescendo of torment deafening me how each day ends for me head pounding with explosive thoughts my mind begging for sleep and unconsciousness weary with the expectation of facing another day
0
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 8:56 PM UTC
wiped out
Maybe I cry too much, love too much, and feel too much I’m sorry if that makes you feel uncomfortable to talk to me I can be too sensitive, I try, but I can never win So sorry if my heart’s too big to fill the box you put me in And I wish you could see all the love I have to give Inside a brain that thinks so fast that it forgets that I am breathing… And I know I shine the brightest when I haven’t got a clue Of how whatever hell is wrong with me takes all the fun away from you I know that I shine brighter when I cannot understand How I can never fill the shoes you try to fit onto my hands And I wish that you would take all the care I have to give Inside someone who loves so much she forgets she should be eating… Maybe I hurt too much, talk too much, and think too much Perhaps that makes me less than worthy of the friendship that I need I could call you up again, but maybe I’ll just let them in The ones who treat me like I’m not a burden ladled onto them The ones who hold me while I cry and think I deserve better And ones who drive out to my house no matter what the weather The day I let you go was when I knew that I was free I knew I shined the brightest when I let you walk away from me
0
Oct 4, 2020
Oct 4, 2020 at 10:07 PM UTC
Shine (the brightest)
Warm and smooth Orange mayple syrup Sun rays ladled upon my back Absorbing the goodwill of the sun I lay on the concrete like a hot rock All tension set aside Fingers dip in the water Where the lights bounce and play Cool to the touch This simulacrum of the sea Smell the salt and get swept away To another time, long ago past I turn my gaze up to the sky The big bright blue expansion It draws me in. I want to dive into it's unfolding depths. I want this momentary bliss To stay with me forever.
0
Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 2:46 PM UTC
Aunt's Deluxe
The Perseus Cluster declination 650,000 light years; 54 billion degrees Her day is ladled in breaths Sawdust of stars encircling her feet The sun in Minor A; a wonderful remark (For manners lie undisturbed in the dark) A need for a poem to define Celestry Her heart is lost to gravity
0
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 9:33 AM UTC
Mine