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r Dec 2014
i met her at the crow bar -
a mescalero from amarillo
- her name was lily
and she was in from the field

wearing tiger stripe camos
cut short like i like 'em
and she liked to hike them
- all commando

she had a tattered boony hat -
a kevlar vest and a tat
that said - the wild, wild west -

her shoulder holsters
were packed with two .40s

- lordy, lordy -

she said they bolstered her
fire power


we were commando stylin'
...on the blue mesa.

12/5/14  
:)
\¥/\
  |     • bm
/ \
Jeremy Duff Oct 2012
There is a beautiful girl who wears blue dresses and has golden blonde hair and picks apples and reads George Orwell and listens to Bob Dylan and lives on the north side of Texas.
Today is her birthday and the best thing I could do is give her a phone call but I lost her number months ago and she hasn't called me yet.
Instead I'll sit here and think about her. Maybe if I think good things about he she will feel good.
That's all I could really ask for, isn't it?
That's all I want for her anyway.

I, on the other hand, want to hold her strong body in my arms and be whispered to sleep by her warm voice. I want to run my calloused hands through her soft hair and read her some E.E. Cummings and nap with her out in the warm Texas sun and drink some of her mother's sweet black tea that is eerily famous in that small town.

I remember the first time she came to this side of the country, the first time I met her.  
She came to visit a friend (who we had grown accustomed to calling Tex) who had moved to this side of the country three or four months earlier.
I met her, the girl who wears blue dresses (Anna) at a market that this town has weekly.
Her golden hair shown against the California sun in a dazzling manner and her blue dress stood out among the short shorts and tank tops. She was eating an apple and walking with Tex. When Tex spotted me she yelled and beckoned me over.
"Nolan, this is Anna," she had said "You're the first native Californian she has met."
I took Anna's hand and told her that I was honored and that it was good to have her in this small town and how sorry I was that I am the first Californian she met and not about how warm her hand was and not about how beautiful she looked in the Autumnal aura surrounding us.
She smiled and told me, in her minute Texas drawl, that it was quite alright and that she liked my sweater.

The second time she visited, we were all sitting in Tex's living room with Tex, her boyfriend Lukas, and Anna. Tex had forced me to come because she felt bad for third wheeling Anna and that "Hey, Anna thought you were cute."
Nervously, I somehow managed "So, uhh, '50/50' is in theaters and it looks ******* awesome. Plus, it's got JGL in it... oh, pardon my language, Anna. But uhh yeah, we should go."
Anna placed her hand on my wrist, "Oh, I would love to! It could be a double date!"
It took me a second but I blushed a darker shade of red that I had ever seen.
Tex clapped her hands "Oh lordy why aren't we on our way now?" Her accent had mostly gone away but she still said 'Lordy' and 'Ya'll' and it was funny.
Lukas was down and we all piled into my old, green Ford Ranger and were on our way.

At the Theater Lukas was on my left and Tex was on his left. Anna was in the seat to my right.
At one point in the movie, I can't remember when, Anna placed her hand on my wrist and I sat there scared halfway to hell.
At another point Anna started crying and I put my arm around her and she cried into my shoulder.
The movie ended and Anna looked up at me and smiled.
She said something and now I can't remember what it was but I can still hear it.

I dropped Tex and Lukas off at Lukas's and drove Anna over to Tex's place.
I walked her to the front door and today she was wearing a dark pink dress. Or maybe it was light red. She had her hands gripping the sides by her thighs as we stood on the door step.
I started to tell her that I had a good time and it's okay, the tears would probably wash out of my shirt when she leaned up and kissed me. Her hands stayed gripping my sides during the quick kiss.
We stood there facing each other for a few seconds before she shoved her finger in my chest and said "I'm going to invite you inside and we're going to kiss some more but I am going back to Texas in a week so you better not make me fall in love with you, Nolan Fillman, or I will be very angry."

We fell in love.
I drove her and Tex to the airport on the day she had to leave.
Tex and I sat with her until the moment she had to board.
As we stood up she kissed me, longer than on the doorstep a week before and I could feel tears against my face. She stuck her finger in my chest again and said "Well this is just peachy, Nolan Fillman, I will probably never see you again."

That was two years ago. It was her birthday and I spoiled it and now two years later I can't properly wish her a happy birthday.

"It is a bad religion to love someone who can not love you back"








-
Things happen better in my brain than in real life.
Mark Wanless Apr 2018
Honey Girl

chained my heart to yours girl
kissed my *** goodbye
knew you was the heartbreaker
love you till i die

sooner before later
i know what's coming soon
love you till i die girl
in ***** tonk saloon

in my dreams been dreaming
of your love for me
lordy lordy honey girl
please give up to me

words were spoken often
none i thought was true
lordy lordy honey girl
***** tonk saloon
Natasha Mar 2015
As most of my older followers may know, throughout the last 4 years I hadn't gone a year without doing some sort of chemical drug- until this year. From the time I was 14 to 18 I mixed and sampled the following: (in order) tylonel 3, oxycodiene, MDMA- molly, "m" this drug is a mind killer, it ***** with your serotonin and dopamine levels the most, not super addictive in terms of ****** reactions but mentally it definitely sticks with you, for you will never feel as happy as the first time you try this- my #2 of the never ever try this. I will be a year clean of it on October 30th 2015, GHB- aka *******, *******- oh lordy where do I start. Perhaps with the fact that almost all the coke you buy is cut with laxatives or tylonel. I've suffered the greatest reprecussions physically and psychologically both immediately and long term from this drug. On this drug I experienced stimulant psychosis, cravings, shakes, twitches, believing that bugs were on me, dermotellemania, dramatic weight loss and my skin and hair were terrible. After I had become clean I noticed I still had no appetite, bowel and bladder problems, and craving similiar to those of nicotine. This is my #1- STAY THE **** AWAY FROM THIS, its a silent, slow killer and it's not worth the money you pay for it, $80 (per gram) on laxatives? No thanks. I will be a year clean of this on June 25th 2015, LSD, oxycodin, ****, heroine & dmt.

Personally, things like marijuana, psychobasilic mushrooms, LSD & DMT are still fine with me- I limit my LSD & DMT intake to once every 6 months (if that) and I've found no reprecussions from doing these drugs (yet!).
I was mostly majorly addicted to stimulants and I would advise anyone who wants to not **** up their life to stay away from any stimulant. They really don't benefit you in anyway- the high gets old, the aftermath isn't worth it. I have major mood and mental illness issues that I'm still dealing with to this day- I refuse to take any form of medication such as prozac because I'm afraid I'll get addicted and be on it for the rest of my life. I'm writing this in hopes that anyone who is using, or thinking of using please gets the notion out of their head that they need this ****- it's not cool anymore, its risky and it ruins your body by the end of it.
The reason I chose to stop was because I realized the fact I mentioned above, that it does absolutely no good in the long haul. There are so many better things (better, safer drugs even) then stimulants. I also met a man who supports me and helps me with the craving days I still get at least 1 or twice every month. And I've started to be happy with myself and my body. I want to be healthy. I want to be fit. I want to be happy and carefree- all these drugs do is chain you.

If you read this all the way through, you're lovely.

I hope this helps someone, somewhere out there.
Ahhh my little story of how ****** up I was as a teenager haha gettin older and wiser
Joel M Frye Mar 2011
I love my gun.
I love my gun.
You can drink and chase your women
Till the morning sun,
But Lordy,
how I love my gun.

From the time I get to work
My blood begins to boil,
When I think of gettin' home
To rub her down with oil.
With her **** against my shoulder
Lookin' down her sights,
I could hold her in my arms
And keep her close all night.
Well, my trigger-finger's itchin'
for a little fun...
Lordy how I love my gun.
This one's both kinds a'music...country AND western ;)
Kat Aug 2016
Commitment
I don't know how this works
This commitment thing is new for me
I went down in flames the first time
Who's to say it's not going to happen again?
Will I hurt you like I hurt the last?
Will I start over this never ending cycle?

Commitment
That word is both terrifying and beautiful
It signifies everything I want
But those are the things I fear
Can I give myself to someone so wholly that they are part of my being?
Can I trust someone with that?
Can I truly even love?

Commitment
Oh Lordy
That word incites fear once again, but I'm getting there
I'm coming to terms with it but that nagging won't stop
Will it actually work out?

Commitment
I will commit
At least that's what I'm going to tell myself
And I will not hurt them

Commitment
I'm ready for you
T R S Dec 2018
I leave myself bereft of all the feelings I'm done dealing with.
Mitigated with rigor,
an obligatory pity party had started after hours.
The only stipulation
is to participate in every stage of the rapture
LP S Nov 2013
In the darkness,
I become tangled in your fingertips,
legs,
and sweat soaked sheets.
Your body rocks and moves against mine
in perfect motion
As you whisper how you want
to "make love to me."
That’s what you called it.
But I’d never done that before,
I didn’t even think people still called it that.
But once you said it,
all I wanted to do was...
make love...
to you too..

Now,
baby,
I'm not saying I love you,
or anything like that.
Don’t smile that smile like you’ve enchanted me.
Because I refuse to make that commitment
or give you that much.
Cause see,
I've got things to see
and people to do
and I can't be in love right now.
it's not a good time..

Is it for you...?

..cause if you say it first
I'll jump at the chance to tell you
that when I'm with you,
I soar.
Your fingertips send sparks from my skin
and the sweat dripping
down your caramel complexion
leaves me hungry.
Hungry for your lips on my lips
and your body on mine,
and lord oh lordy,
I might need a minute
excuse me..

Baby see,
when I'm with you
I can smell the scent of your country
taste the exotic taste on your tongue.
and it sends me to far away places and distant lands.
sends me to other planets.
I'm so high off the scent of us,
I'm lightheaded just thinking about you.
****..

And you laugh at me
because I breath a little harder
when you whisper in your native tongue.
"¿Te gusta eso?"
you ask.
And I'm not sure what you're saying
so I just say yes..
and you keep on going with your secret words
losing me in your translations
to the point where I don't wanna be found.
So let's stay in this limbo forever..
because you got me so high baby,
so high,
I never wanna come down.
Ken Pepiton Dec 2022
{from 07 Feb 2018, reintegrated to my mind today, btw}

How much weight can a word carry,
you know?
I-am-bicly or bib-licly speaking,
y'know
What I mean to say is, no word stands alone
even
the word word itself needs a place to put its foot.

---
Certainly, we've seen a thing
or two
since you first stopped to see waves forming right
before your very eyes
in stone

Lies. You said you were certain
they'd be lies if you told another soul
what you thought you might have,
might have,
seen.
...face-forgotten man wonder who I am
Well, I'll be, if it weren't for me,
I doubt I'd get one ****** lie
unbelieved,

Tut, you know what I mean,
we can't go diggin' up the past and get past the present without suffering it to be so.

Just sayin'. Pain ain't, necessarily, part of waiting, now.
Here, if you're hungry, you can eat.
If you are thirsty, drink. The real here, where you are now. You're not in some torture chamber reading this.

Think about what you can't live without and,
watch, time stops, to prove you wrong.

You live on.
Even if you think you died, you still think, so,
you live.

Get on with it. Imagine the reality of truth,
as a place, past physics,
no lies exist there. So,
what else is new, to you? What else ain't
here, where it is said there is no condemnation?

Don't do that.
Don't start imagining all the bad stuff happening here because you can't imagine no lies you believe.
You imagine lies every time you say amen, in-advertently, so be it, as it may
be,
admitted ly,
for gotten-past-things, such as they are, imagined ones are still the worst. Hardest to get past.

If there be any
virtue, praise, rock-candy-mountain-reality, you
may recall them all.
Freely given for giving, dharma karma doing done,
old son.

Fair were the tales the servants told to Grandma's people before the flood.
The ant people, were a diligent folk,
they hid us all in reed boats
they bent with the wind,
like Corn-mammy chill'ns in April sun showers.

But, oh, the way things used to be, they was ab-
used, them servants sent from God.
Good luck findin' one now.

Blue and white, and blue and green, and blue and yellow, and blue and orange, two by two,
on a spectrum of one being the best,
choose blue and white.
Discern the rest.
Be still. There's more.

a -musin', eh? the way things might-a -been.
'lot a good that may do ya', ken ye, kennin' ever things?
Kin folk fallin' from the fam'ly tree be
laughin' sayin' see what he wannabe,
lordy, lordy bless my baby heart.
Pea-pickin' heart.
Historical note: Spring 2018 was when i wrote this, my geriatric psych pro, prompted me to let some one else know how I happened to grow old, against all odds, this was titled "Little Fishes" then... any way, I must say, the readers at HelloPoetry have lifted me from a pit it does little good to speak about surviving, without offering a thread to follow. This was near the time I began to meditate, seek arts intention, Hermes Psychopompos offering to guide me through the mess I made, and now, realized, I survived. With help.
Henry Daniels Jun 2012
Lordy
       Lordy
What The ****!
Where did my memories go
Why did I delete
         The pictures
          The feelins
How many forgotten fuckfests
rest at the bottom of the sea?
Why should we try to make a difference
when forgetfulness is the best we can hope for

      No! **** it! Thats not true

No more left memories
Im gonna go find them
and bring them back
          Diggin dude
I'll be diggin for a long while
until the excavation is complete.

Yuh Feel me?
This is inspired by Patricia Smith's poem Left memories...Read it or I will troll the **** out of you. :-)
The Trumpoet Feb 2017
Mine eyes hath seen the horror of the rise of Donald Trump.
Mine ears hath heard his vitriol he spews from on the stump.
If you believed his ramblings, he took you for a chump.
His "truth's" near always wrong.

Lordy, lordy did he fool ya?
With his con job did he school ya?
Now you'll have to let him rule ya.
Now that your chance has gone.

He swept past sixteen wannabes and claimed the G.O.P.
Surrounded now by sycophants, and yes-men who'll agree
with whatever harmful, hateful, hurtful law that he'll decree.
His ego marches on

Sorry, sorry, such an awful lesson learned.
By protest through the ballot box, the whole world has been burned.
A tyrant's come to power, with the facts and truth adjourned.
His tyranny goes on.

But I say there is hope my friend to right this wrong, you see.
Will you rise in righteous protest and recite this rhyme with me?
And let it help remind you of the past when you were free.
With hope, we shall move on!

Glory, glory when we weather this dark storm,
glory for us once again, when love becomes the norm.
When we have ousted ignorance in every evil form.
And truth goes marching on.
This poem can be sung to the tune of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic".
You can also see this and my other Trump poems at: www.trumpoet.com
Link to video of this poem: https://youtu.be/XadPkGX9uSA
Written January 18, 2017
Angie Sea Feb 2012
Saint Valentine's Day
A day of romance
just one day ?
what's that all about
Valentinus oh he who fought for love
and died for love
but who cares about that
it's not even February yet
and already people are a little crazier than usual
there’s the ones going on and on
about not having a date
true
it does seem criminal to be single on this day
But let's keep things gay

oh and then there's the boyfriends or crushes who bring flowers
chocolates
and maybe even one of those stuffed animals
holding a big red stuffed heart
that has I heart the letter U on it
then they'll lean in for the kiss
and that's how it'll all start
In her head she'll be going
"My mind's telling me no , but my body , my body's telling me yes"
and just like that you'll be set
because she'll be getting a little _ _ _
down there
and you'll get your Valentine's day ***
ew rated x
hopefully it's *** with love
hold up
What is up ?
Oh besides that of course (look down)
Get yourself a ****** and enough about that

Can't we love everyday
even if it isn't easy to say I love you
throw in a sweetheart here and an oh honey there
And the simple things
your matching rings
and what they mean
the catching of the other's eyes across the table
the accidental brushing of bodies
and you'll be blushing oh lordy
looking up only to see them smiling

What a perfect picture
isn't that what we all want
Even for those who have date after date with loneliness
There may be love
There must be love
three hundred and sixty-four other days
So much for Valentine's Day
Originally performed ; line from R.Kelly's Bump N' Grind sung
Seán Mac Falls Dec 2013
The heron spreads his wings and preys.
His stony stand a beachhead sloughing
The salt sea, a sepulchered wading.

Leaven the broken bred, unshell
The teeming waters, a fisher of mermen
Unlordly low this lying father,
His wings are palms,

His rock a mount, his wings a bay,
And deafness, tears in the outer shores
And exaulted seas the forgiven waves,

Swells the briny blood and kelp.
Vains are streaming to the fisher king,
Lordy he lands the lying father
His wings are psalms.

A tiny flood that arcs the sky
Marks lord in miniature, a King
Fisher flies, His wings are
The waters calmed.

The otters bask and preen, mermen
Jostle in the laddered rays of the sun
They mark their surf, insouciant play,

Wavering the fisher of men, he sways,
Simply they circle in song singing hours,
Dancing as do the murmuring waves,
Their strokes are psalms.
Matalie Niller Jun 2012
Lordy it's a pretty day though
humidity may ruin the glue
must use less water or else
the whole contraption will fall apart-
balloons pop wire melts
oh no Machu Picchu is ruined
just a globby mess of beer bottles and pizza boxes
how can I describe
how you look like a less attractive Jason Segel
and not even nearly as cool
still pretty smart though
but something tells my brain
there are plenty more even better
maybe a male model with a heart of platinum-
or chocolate!
what a perfect man
eat your heart out.
Seán Mac Falls Jul 2012
The heron spreads his wings and preys.
His stony stand a beachhead sloughing
The salt sea, a sepulchered wading.

Leaven the broken bred, unshell
The teeming waters, a fisher of mermen
Unlordly low this lying father,
His wings are palms,

His rock a mount, his wings a bay,
And deafness, tears in the outer shores
And exaulted seas the forgiven waves,

Swells the briny blood and kelp.
Vains are streaming to the fisher king,
Lordy he lands the lying father
His wings are psalms.

A tiny flood that arcs the sky
Marks lord in miniature, a King 
Fisher flies, His wings are
The waters calmed.

The otters bask and preen, mermen
Jostle in the laddered rays of the sun
They mark their surf, insouciant play,

Wavering the fisher of men, he sways, 
Simply they circle in song singing hours,
Dancing as do the murmuring waves,
Their strokes are psalms.
earlyish
in the mourning
the moon
begins to rise
to the
dirtiest
consorting
in the room
between the thighs
forbidden fruit
from a filthy city
that ruins lives
so the troupe
snipped ribbons
ripped ties
flew the coupe
and found suit
elsewhere

Hell

thought it was provoking

when they
caught em
smoking loosies &
tagging in
elementary school
bathrooms &
peeping ****** movies for free
mercy me, a perturbing
flea ridden circus
ballyhoo at
high noon
just
look between
the alleyways
like pearly gates
adjacent to
& facing toward
the gallow stage
saved for traitors

& may I say

these are unhallowed days

triple x files.
furious grady stiles
walked the
daily eighty miles
to the liquor store for
his quick pick or maybe just
a curious
eye sore for bored out tricks
on the nearest corner &
the queerest gory ***** flicks for
a nickel a dime a quarter
&please;

- mind the camera -

hammer
sickle
sanskrit
star
prison bar
stripe

flock stickered on
the flickering light
mock bicker then its
quiet on the farm tonight
⁢ doesn't seem right  
the sicker sheep seek
sleepless nights
in the street
took Darwinian flight &
a diving leap
to diamond minds
thicker fleece &
meaner teeth
drinking on cheap forties
sneakin up on sweet
***** mother glory

lordy.
A memoir.
Terry O'Leary Jun 2015
Cast a glance to the comet up high
with a name sounding awkward and dry
          (in the stellar marquee
          it's marked 'six-seven-P')
and a motion that's hard to descry.

As the comet continues to fly,
caught in gravity none can defy
         (yes, it traces ellipses
         through solar eclipses),
we ask 'does dark matter comply'.

So, we sent the Rosetta to pry
and I can't help but wondering why
          (once in orbit) we spun it
          so close to the sun, it
is likely to sizzle and fry…

But before, we may soon verify
that the comet's a custard cream pie
          made of  green cheddar cheese,
          like the moon, if you please
(though that's gospel the savants deny).

When receivers no longer reply
(at the end of their solar supply),
          we won't seek to debug 'em,
          instead we'll we unplug 'em
and turn off our spy in the sky.

If it's certain Rosetta will die
then, oh lordy, I surely will cry
          if we land it like Philae
          behind the sun, shyly,  
before I can whisper goodbye.
Seán Mac Falls Jun 2016
.
The heron spreads his wings and preys.
His stony stand a beachhead sloughing
The salt sea, a sepulchered wading.

Leaven the broken bred, unshell
The teeming waters, a fisher of mermen
Unlordly low this lying father,
His wings are palms,

His rock a mount, his wings a bay,
And deafness, tears in the outer shores
And exaulted seas the forgiven waves,

Swells the briny blood and kelp.
Vains are streaming to the fisher king,
Lordy he lands the lying father
His wings are psalms.

A tiny flood that arcs the sky
Marks lord in miniature, a King
Fisher flies, His wings are
The waters calmed.

The otters bask and preen, mermen
Jostle in the laddered rays of the sun
They mark their surf, insouciant play,

Wavering the fisher of men, he sways,
Simply they circle in song singing hours,
Dancing as do the murmuring waves,
Their strokes are psalms.
Seán Mac Falls May 2013
The heron spreads his wings and preys.
His stony stand a beachhead sloughing
The salt sea, a sepulchered wading.

Leaven the broken bred, unshell
The teeming waters, a fisher of mermen
Unlordly low this lying father,
His wings are palms,

His rock a mount, his wings a bay,
And deafness, tears in the outer shores
And exaulted seas the forgiven waves,

Swells the briny blood and kelp.
Vains are streaming to the fisher king,
Lordy he lands the lying father
His wings are psalms.

A tiny flood that arcs the sky
Marks lord in miniature, a King
Fisher flies, His wings are
The waters calmed.

The otters bask and preen, mermen
Jostle in the laddered rays of the sun
They mark their surf, insouciant play,

Wavering the fisher of men, he sways,
Simply they circle in song singing hours,
Dancing as do the murmuring waves,
Their strokes are psalms.
Nigel Morgan Nov 2013
After the painting by Dana Schutz

Notice the lid’s up on my piano,
to keep the strings dry.
Instead of a pool on the shiny black
hood the water just slides away.

It rains blue rain
here on the prairie,
big clouds, blue rain
coming down in arrows.

My hair’s a mess,
but I don’t care
bare-foot pianist me,
firm fingers on the keys,

you see I’m playing
Frederic Rzewski’s  
Winnsboro Blues,
those **** Cottonmill Blues,

Oh Lordy,

You know and I know,
I don’t have to tell,
Work for Tom Watson,
Got to work like hell.


*For James who likes his poetry with music
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=68zSOyO1PG8
Seán Mac Falls Nov 2012
The heron spreads his wings and preys.
His stony stand a beachhead sloughing
The salt sea, a sepulchered wading.

Leaven the broken bred, unshell
The teeming waters, a fisher of mermen
Unlordly low this lying father,
His wings are palms,

His rock a mount, his wings a bay,
And deafness, tears in the outer shores
And exaulted seas the forgiven waves,

Swells the briny blood and kelp.
Vains are streaming to the fisher king,
Lordy he lands the lying father
His wings are psalms.

A tiny flood that arcs the sky
Marks lord in miniature, a King
Fisher flies, His wings are
The waters calmed.

The otters bask and preen, mermen
Jostle in the laddered rays of the sun
They mark their surf, insouciant play,

Wavering the fisher of men, he sways,
Simply they circle in song singing hours,
Dancing as do the murmuring waves,
Their strokes are psalms.
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
Confusing it is
that taste between
passion fruit or **** ant

My mind is boggled
which way this is leaning

Your unsavory parts
are being completely outweighed
presently
by a tangy **** yet sweet delivery

It's just I always am bird-*******
but coming up with the wrong duck
not noticing I've brought home
the wooden decoy
until I'm already sopping wet
wearing stink of the marsh

Why am I wired this way?
Got to get out of this yard
but the lessons are hard learned

So I keep climbing the fence
and now it's you on the other side

Waggin' that **** tang!

Lordy, the chase is on.
Sean Banks Apr 2013
"Thats so cliche"
Well then - touché
Oy vey
Lordy may
Am i the only that feels this dismay?
CHRIST, i could use a good lay
Thank the LORD i am built out of steel
Not paper-mache
What time is it?
**** it, it's still today
Brett Cooper Jun 2010
ha-hahaa you lost it, didn'tcha? dintcha?
your shooting stars were bombs
but at least you got your wish through
out fr*m th&se; wh~spered he%d tunes

ahhh yeah, but it's not always like that
breathe breathe breathe
sigh a heave heave heave
sleep a dream dream dream
and open all the little senses
among the trees you helped to weather
the light cubes drip inside, and dip and glide
each time you feel the heat, reach out and
ohhhhhh~~
and then just go

wellll yeah, but it's cant quite be like that
remember now? do ya? do ya?
so electrons stopped their shuffling
i mean, that's how it happens
and lordy, how the time passed
and how nothing ever
reminded
anything.
Jonny Angel Jul 2014
I ventured to
the farmer's market today,
got me some fresh white potatoes,
a pile of green beans,
stone ground rolls
& a few homemade sausages.

Oh, I picked up a jar
of wildflower honey,
some honeydew wine water
& a bar of lilac soap, too.

I can't wait 'till
the little lady shows up
later tonight.
We're gonna
have a super supper
& a nice warm bath
out under the stars.

O Lordy,
there ain't nothing
like eating home cookin'
& going au naturel,
I can't wait.
DM Aug 2015
**** on the insides
**** on the outsides
waitin on a ride
to bury all the evidence
the defense you provide
is irrelevant
its starting to make sense
cant get any change
cant even afford this game
but hey, what the **** do i care?
you aint got no one else to blame

So stop acting all scared
Step in the rain
Ill-prepared
Aint no drain in these streets
We all drown
Double dare
Hold our breath
Close and near
To the throat of society population is eyein me
describing me quietly in closed circles conspiring
Dying nice and clean was a righteous dream in a ***** mind
find the irony
I'm getting high while lighting leaves deep in fall while falling deep

All this air surrounding me
Weighing me down,
I gotta find out how to relieve the oxygen building up around me
It's intoxicating just seeing you breathe
Takin a breath, hold it in deep
count to ten, do it again
Countin them sheep until im back to sleep
prayin not to wake up again
oh lordy here he is
my soul to keep

Asleep on the highway of life til i hear beeps my alarm clock keeps me grounded and enemies weak
Pound my fist into the cheeks of these clowns been down for weeks painting frowns with tears that leaked

Drowning in the aftermath of all the facts found in the fine print of the devils contracts
Tryna relax, but my mind is spying and I can't control these subconscious mental acts

Knowing that my peers are sheep control will mold em obsolete
I pull the switch admire beef entirely
My tires screech arrive at scenes with knives that gleam
Its a nightly thing
Keep my guillotine shinin clean
Frightening
That ever time my slate is wiped up clean
The blood stains come back violently

It's a sight to see that no matter how much bleach I use to clean up my speech
There's still an outline showin the shape of every time I thought the only eyes that could see me were mine
Its piling around me, this evidence about to drown me, only good thing is aint nobody found me
Seán Mac Falls Apr 2017
.
Showers of green, spark
On the leafing trees leaping
With a star.  Gusty rains, spread,
Like sowing from spirited heaven,
Are weaving the moist blankets
That life cuddles in.  Blooms
Burst into the freshnesses
On parade, the butterflies
So soon sweeping the air
With daydreams of colour
Into the light of the crystal dew
Which shimmers in the grasses,
And the wildflowers are beading
With the bees homing for honey,
In webs of abundance, of newness
After the hushed, blanched shrouds
Of winter, over growing, everywhere
Joy breaks, seems in seconds coming,
There is threading explosion, of miracle,
Such Edens in the wild gardens who cling
And glow for that one true love, new brand,
April spring day song, clutched in Lordy sun.
briano alliano performs at neptune pub


hi dudes

welcome to my show and the first song is patrick the brave man

you see as i do my youtube show, and, man i enjoy it a lot

an old mate patrick will sit up being a man saying your cool

like he was protecting me or something

and he can be brave, he can be bold, even if he is growing old

you see as he sits up on his chair, in my head protecting me

from doing harm to other you see, because do i need it, well, i don’t care

as i look at him, saying, please stop please stop, my lordy lord

he said, there is no such thing as jesus and kept in my head being a big man

and then he wanted to be there forever and ever

like the bird and his feather, come on patrick, come on get out of my head

you need to understand, i ain’t ashamed as i used to be

i perform at badslamnobiscuit poetry slam, every third wednesday of each month

and tomorrow i will play a christmas in july carol, which is cool which is cool

you see, he is saying, brian, you are cool, don’t be ashamed to perform, you are cool

i said, tip methane all over patrick the big protector and sing this

take me out to the ball game

take me home to the crowd

buy me some peanuts and ******* jack

they don’t know if we ever get back

so it’s root root root for the home team

if they don’t win it’s a shame

it’s 1 2 3 strikes your out

at the old ball game

patrick jumps up and says, i still want to show you my man in your head, because you need to understand

i liked you back then, and that’s the truth

our next song is methane over duncan

i would love to tip methane over duncan

i would love to tip methane over him

it’ll improve the quality of his life

and make his future far from dim

you see he will look like a fucken zombie

but it’s up here, that’s fine

i would love to tip methane over duncan

cause he is a nice guy

i would love to tip methane over patrick

yeah it’ll be fun to tip methane over pat

you see, i would love to show him, i can look after myself well

despite the house looking like a bomb hit it again

i will pick up the methane keg and as pat entered the room

i will tip methane over patrick, and say prepare to meet your doom

i would l;ove to tip methane over christopher

i would love to tip methane over him

you see he lives up in the gold coast, man

with his wife and kids, well, methane is the king

it will improve his life, man

whether he believes it or not

i would love to tip methane over christopher

cause, as a brother he’s a good sport

i would love to tip methane over bas boy

i would love to tip methane over him

you see, i want bas boy to work on his next life betty

and allow me to get on with mine

please allow me to do this, it’ll be really so much fun, oh yeah

i would love to tip methane over bas boy, cause it stick better than beer

ok, dudes and now here is another song called simply irresistible

how can it be permissible

to compromise my principle

the methane is passable

and it’s anything but typical

you see it’s a party moment, which can turn off a lot

you used to look so good to me, the methane is simply irresistible

see you soon neptune
Seán Mac Falls Apr 2014
The heron spreads his wings and preys.
His stony stand a beachhead sloughing
The salt sea, a sepulchered wading.

Leaven the broken bred, unshell
The teeming waters, a fisher of mermen
Unlordly low this lying father,
His wings are palms,

His rock a mount, his wings a bay,
And deafness, tears in the outer shores
And exaulted seas the forgiven waves,

Swells the briny blood and kelp.
Vains are streaming to the fisher king,
Lordy he lands the lying father
His wings are psalms.

A tiny flood that arcs the sky
Marks lord in miniature, a King
Fisher flies, His wings are
The waters calmed.

The otters bask and preen, mermen
Jostle in the laddered rays of the sun
They mark their surf, insouciant play,

Wavering the fisher of men, he sways,
Simply they circle in song singing hours,
Dancing as do the murmuring waves,
Their strokes are psalms.
Seán Mac Falls Mar 2015
The heron spreads his wings and preys.
His stony stand a beachhead sloughing
The salt sea, a sepulchered wading.

Leaven the broken bred, unshell
The teeming waters, a fisher of mermen
Unlordly low this lying father,
His wings are palms,

His rock a mount, his wings a bay,
And deafness, tears in the outer shores
And exaulted seas the forgiven waves,

Swells the briny blood and kelp.
Vains are streaming to the fisher king,
Lordy he lands the lying father
His wings are psalms.

A tiny flood that arcs the sky
Marks lord in miniature, a King
Fisher flies, His wings are
The waters calmed.

The otters bask and preen, mermen
Jostle in the laddered rays of the sun
They mark their surf, insouciant play,

Wavering the fisher of men, he sways,
Simply they circle in song singing hours,
Dancing as do the murmuring waves,
Their strokes are psalms.
Brent Kincaid Dec 2017
Please wake up and smile at me
Like  you used to be all spunky
Full of fire, ready to call a liar a liar
And a crook a crook, throw the book
At fakes and phonies, only to glad
To whisk the mad out of office
And write an essay to protect us.

Please wake up and laugh aloud
At the proud and haughty, Lordy
Could you ever laugh at bigots
And idiots and creeps in the world.
Protect boys and girls everywhere
And do your best to scare away
The bearboos under their beds.
Now you sleep instead and it hurts.

It hurts not to hear you rant and rail
At those who fail to serve and protect,
Reject their apostasy and hypocrisy
While they endlessly spread their enmity
Treating good people like the enemies
And send money to those who do attack,
Resources we can never get back
All because it makes them money.
You never found that funny, did you?

So, I beg you. Please wake up and stay
Stay with us who need you, all of us;
All of us who care and love when you share.
So let me remind you, fate has consigned you
To lie there and rest your head too long
But that bed would be better less time.
To lose you would be a crime we can’t bear.
We need you here, as before. We implore
All the good luck and prayers go your way
And you rise up and walk again today.
When I pass by a reflective glass,
I turn my gaze to the floor.
When I walk past a fateful mirror, I ask,
“Good God, please Lord, show me no more.”

But this day, I met a man,
Handling the thing I hate the most,
With kind young eyes, scarred over hands,
And a smile and a frown playing on his lips.

I think he noticed my downcast glare,
He lifted my chin,
And took mine in his own two pair.
He turned me ‘round to face my sin.

My gaze burned back,
Deep down inside my head.
My mental train losing its track.
This comely, well meaning man, to me he said,

“Sweet woman, why do you cry?
At an image so inspiring, illuminating.
You must tell me why,
When you should be smiling, yet you are weeping.

You might have tears in your eyes
And the heaviest lead in your heart,
But you have the beauty woman despise,
Ill show you what I’m talking about, just to start.

With eyes of ice blue, and sometimes emerald,
And soft full moon lips,
The hair of the angel’s herald,
Perfection in your curves, the contour of your hips.

Don’t let anyone tell you different,
For snide remarks will be plentiful,
Something as good as you can only be heaven sent,
‘Cause Lordy, good God, woman. You are BEAUTIFUL.”
Seán Mac Falls Mar 2016
Showers of green, spark
On the leafing trees leaping
With a star.  Gusty rains, spread,
Like sowing from spirited heaven,
Are weaving the moist blankets
That life cuddles in.  Blooms
Burst into the freshnesses
On parade, the butterflies
So soon sweeping the air
With daydreams of colour
Into the light of the crystal dew
Which shimmers in the grasses,
And the wildflowers are beading
With the bees homing for honey,
In webs of abundance, of newness
After the hushed, blanched shrouds
Of winter, over growing, everywhere
Joy breaks, seems in seconds coming,
There is threading explosion, of miracle,
Such Edens in the wild gardens who cling
And glow for that one true love, new brand,
April spring day song, clutched in Lordy sun.
JoJo Nguyen May 2015
In my child and heart we raise
hard work and rejoice in praise

on dying back labor we fall
right into arm of Justice call

Forever screaming of little cheats,
new wicked name at our constant feats

of centered tatamat spirals,
of Sensei's sunflower petals

In my heart and child we seek
refuge in trying times reek

trusting in not u but us, women, woman,
to gender mine for blood estrus sand

hot to the crying mercy touch
hot to modesty tested too much

hating to death's stuffing mouth
hating a networks gone South

their tangled weaves hidden under
foot, forgot Hell's nation worker

a poor man's hope never cut down,
executed behind comment's frown

Put mercy's fear upon the nations
known to themselves as Lordy rations
Hill Country constable running silent , blue lights flashing
Some 'Rascal' entwined in mischief , some Old Billy Goat nagging
and dragging !
An elderly "Pea -picker with more than his fill of hard liquor
A drunk Old Crow that don't know his hat from his Hush Puppies
stirring up a Wet Hen's wrath and anger ..
Give me coffee , bring me milk .." O 'Lordy , keep my mind off that dang no good 'Still' !"
Copyright March 30 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Jayne E May 2019
For ny honey-bee...

something must be wrong with me
if even eating a mandarin
has me thinking of thee

hot sultry passionate thoughts
not really ones usually fraught
with ***** longings & mind fed scenes
oh lordy, here come the nectarines

I guess it harks back to when you fed
me your luscious fruitful breakfast in bed
did things with fruit that made me blush
talking your sweet time in no real rush
to savour the flavours of every bite
another new chapter for our lovers rites
so now as I eat mandarins sitting in bed

all I see now as juice bursts is you in my head
and as the citrus scent fills my nose
I can't even whisper where my mind goes
to make oneself blush is no mean feat
yet it has me squirming, jump in my seat

no innocent poem about sweet mandarin
rather the undone state you have me in

J.C. "honey-owl" 04/05/2019.
josh wilbanks May 2016
I was driving down I-85 when all of a sudden I got stunned by a view over a bridge and nearly slammed into a feline leaning against the railing, lost in the view. Lordy, my engine shut down real quick. Neither of us were damaged, but rather impacted. I said my goodbye with an apology tagged along and whent on my way home. Every day i drive that strip, seeing the view, passing by my old friend. Never again did we collide. Every time i passed by, my engine stalled. I wanted so badly to honk, swerve, pull over and talk, anything.
     Yet i kept on driving.
I wonder if she knows.

— The End —