Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"maude" poems
he looked at me as if i was poetry and he held me. he held me as if my thorns weren't there, as if they didn't even touch him, when they actually hurt him, cut him almost as deep as my wounds that he's been trying to heal. but he stayed through the drought and the hurricane. he bled for me, he held me through my insanity. and i've never been so afraid, i'm afraid he's going to love me. —k. aoife maude i'm afraid i'll hurt him even more.
0
May 7, 2017
May 7, 2017 at 1:17 PM UTC
02.
There once was a man named Claude Who married his cousin Maude Their kith did heartily celebrate As they wed within the family state Of genetic accord were Maude and Claude
0
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 9:19 PM UTC
Genetic Accord (Limerick Poem)
____THEY___would EACH day take the ROLL CALL ! !...iT WENT LIKE THIS= *GERRY GIRAFFE="here sir", *SHARON SNAIL= "here sir", *SIDNEY SNAKE= "here sir", *DIANNE DEER= "here sir", *HERMAN HIPPO= "here sir", *FRANCES FOX= "here sir", ....AND it seemed like the list went on "FOREVER"! ! There were not Hundreds,, thousands or Millions ,,, BUT *HUNDREDS of Millions who were on the ROLL CALL List ! Many often Wondered , How Long would it take to complete the *ROLL ?? Many often Wondered ,, Would They be on the List ?? EACH=TIME a ROLLCALL* was answered ,, Another would wait in Heated Anticipation ! ! NO ONE HERE,,,Knows for sure, When the Exact Moment of the * ROLL CALL* Started,, but= it is SURELY known for fact,, EVERYONE WANTS TO BE ON "THE" LIST ! ! Some may deny the need for the List, Some May doubt the Existence of the LIST, Some may say "WHY EVEN HAVE alist ?" Some say "EVOLUTION" has brought us here ! ! Some not Understanding ,have SHED MANY A TEAR>> *LEONARD LION="here sir", *ADRIAN ANTELOPE= "here sir", *RONALD ROACH= "here sir", *MAUDE MOOSE= "here sir", ... THEY STAND IN AMAZEMENT as they see what looks like Surrender,, Have Feared for their VERY EXISTENCE,,, Looking around in AWE,, EACH SIGHING for the Sorrow in Others Hearts , ....BUT STILL THEY ASK ?? 'W H Y THE ROLL=CALL? > *BERRY BEETLE="here sir", *CAROL CROAKER = "here sir", >> THE ROLL CALL does continue this very moment! ! AND......is promised "TO GO ON" til the " GREAT-GATHERING"...>*FLOYD FLOUNDER= "here sir", ZELDA ZEBRA="here sir",....... the list IS STILL BEING CALLED AS "W E S P E A K "...simply waiting FOR the Gathering,, AND______the "calling " OF their NAME on the * ROLL-CALL*"
0
Dec 17, 2010
Dec 17, 2010 at 4:05 AM UTC
* " ROLL CALL "* (#43)
____THEY___would EACH day take the ROLL CALL ! !...iT WENT LIKE THIS= *GERRY GIRAFFE="here sir", *SHARON SNAIL= "here sir", *SIDNEY SNAKE= "here sir", *DIANNE DEER= "here sir", *HERMAN HIPPO= "here sir", *FRANCES FOX= "here sir", ....AND it seemed like the list went on "FOREVER"! ! There were not Hundreds,, thousands or Millions ,,, BUT *HUNDREDS of Millions who were on the ROLL CALL List ! Many often Wondered , How Long would it take to complete the *ROLL ?? Many often Wondered ,, Would They be on the List ?? EACH=TIME a ROLLCALL* was answered ,, Another would wait in Heated Anticipation ! ! NO ONE HERE,,,Knows for sure, When the Exact Moment of the * ROLL CALL* Started,, but= it is SURELY known for fact,, EVERYONE WANTS TO BE ON "THE" LIST ! ! Some may deny the need for the List, Some May doubt the Existence of the LIST, Some may say "WHY EVEN HAVE alist ?" Some say "EVOLUTION" has brought us here ! ! Some not Understanding ,have SHED MANY A TEAR>> *LEONARD LION="here sir", *ADRIAN ANTELOPE= "here sir", *RONALD ROACH= "here sir", *MAUDE MOOSE= "here sir", ... THEY STAND IN AMAZEMENT as they see what looks like Surrender,, Have Feared for their VERY EXISTENCE,,, Looking around in AWE,, EACH SIGHING for the Sorrow in Others Hearts , ....BUT STILL THEY ASK ?? 'W H Y THE ROLL=CALL? > *BERRY BEETLE="here sir", *CAROL CROAKER = "here sir", >> THE ROLL CALL does continue this very moment! ! AND......is promised "TO GO ON" til the " GREAT-GATHERING"...>*FLOYD FLOUNDER= "here sir", ZELDA ZEBRA="here sir",....... the list IS STILL BEING CALLED AS "W E S P E A K "...simply waiting FOR the Gathering,, AND______the "calling " OF their NAME on the * ROLL-CALL*"
Continue reading...
1
Who told my mother of my shame, Who told my fatlier of my dear? Oh who but Maude, my sister Maude, Who lurked to spy and peer. Cold he lies, as cold as stone, With his clotted curls about his face: The comeliest corpse in all the world And worthy of a queen's embrace. You might have spared his soul, sister, Have spared my soul, your own soul too: Though I had not been born at all, He'd never have looked at you. My father may sleep in Paradise, My mother at Heaven-gate: But sister Maude shall get no sleep Either early or late. My father may wear a golden gown, My mother a crown may win; If my dear and I knocked at Heaven-gate Perhaps they'd let us in: But sister Maude, oh sister Maude, Bide you with death and sin.
0
1.9k
Sister Maude
it wasn't just the fingerprints that you left on my door hinge, it was all of the broken pieces i gave you for i thought you'd change. — k. aoife maude
0
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 5:32 AM UTC
01.
No body knows the Trouble I;ve Seen~Except my Aunt Maude and the Mowin machine..  No body knows the garbage I've tossed~Except for that stray dog~who by now Must be lost...  No body knows the Trash I've tripped over~Except for that Yellow Horse that eats all the clover...  No body know the Turmoils and Bruises~Except for those folks who take Long cruises...  No body knows the Tormenting stress~Except for Garden hoses and the guy doing the Bench Press...   No body knows the Aggravation I've got stored~ Except  for a Majesty sitting on His Throne...   No body knows the Deceit that I've been dealt~Except for that guy who always wears the Bright Blue belt...   No body knows that awful dog Grover~Except the Fat Lady who sings ,When's it's all over...   No body knows what Sloppy Joe Means~Except for the people who wear Hand-me-down Jeans...   No body knows what it's like to feel Really  Blue~Except for the people who try to make friends with fast drying Glue...   No body knows where all these Roads might lead ~Except for those who know what it's like to be on your knees...    "NO BODY KNOW THE TROUBLE I'VE SEEN ! !
0
Apr 11, 2011
Apr 11, 2011 at 3:51 AM UTC
* " NO-BODY KNOWS " * (#56 )
Robert told Olive And Olive told Dee That Emma likes Peter But Peter likes me. And Stephen saw Jamie Tell Anna and George That Vicky kissed Edward And Clarence kissed Maude. But Peter told Edward And Edward told me That Vicky saw Stephen Tell Clarence and Dee That Robert kissed Emma So Anna told George That Olive likes Jamie But Jamie likes Maude
0
Oct 11, 2019
Oct 11, 2019 at 10:25 PM UTC
Tittle-Tattle
November brought rain, snow, sweaters, and kisses. We discovered what our lips could do as we lay huddling together. Under blankets, in a house, in a tree, we discovered the sensation of excitement in places we thought to be unexcitable. Like our lips, our tongues, our fingertips and our eyelashes. I can't remember how many times we watched Harold and Maude, I only know that we never got through it. You told me I kiss like I'm in a hurry. Like I need to catch a train but I also need to kiss you, and nothing on this earth can stop me from doing both. And you kissed like you knew it was a good thing. Which must be quite a sensation to have. Just like those we felt in our lips, tongues, fingertips and eyelashes.
0
Sep 27, 2013
Sep 27, 2013 at 12:44 AM UTC
EL
sun fades to dawn; sky blushed,cerise to maude I'd love to live a day in your mind, I'd stay               starstruck in the mirror but there is nothing here to reflect,   only our eyes to record. Your teeth dissect apple slices and shape a smile. I love your eyes, I love how they forecast the sky    wavering,blossoming in slow motion and carving a sleekit masterpiece that parodies the ocean. I could stay like this forever, imbued in      beautiful silence, your beautiful presence; I've no hesitance to let the time float by    around us, by your side I feel safer than ever.
0
Oct 9, 2019
Oct 9, 2019 at 1:05 AM UTC
Watching the night sky was on her bucket list
Road maps act like walls Feeling like continents are purposely putting distance between us I dream of you, and you of I You miss me, as I miss you The only thing to lighten the desire Is to stare at the sky To know you’re staring at the same stars
0
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 10:37 PM UTC
Maude
The retired vaudevillian engraves his love's epitaph while eating caramelized clusters The local sodomites huddle around and mourn outside the morgue Waiting for the body of their **** to be handed over They've given her body an overhaul She looks more alive than when she was living Hobnobbing with the well-to-do The retired vaudevillian comes to collect the body of his deceased wife He looks down at the sodomites For their outlandish appearance and choice of employment has resulted in mistrust "Oh my love, why couldn't you have been the driver instead of the passenger whose body was jettisoned into the air and smashed upon the asphalt?" "She could do ten thousand breast strokes, paint masterpieces with one brush stroke" The sodomites began to taunt the vaudevillian Calling him washed up He retorted back calling them toothless heathen ******   A mercenary was called to end the dispute outside of the morgue He killed half of the sodomites and tasered the vaudevillian The undertaker wheeled out the body bag on dolly But he lost control, and the body went careening down the hill into a cloudy bay The party of mourners grouped around the bay and watched the body float on to the afterlife She left behind her has-been husband and her **** ******* cohorts I bet she would have appreciated this little organized dime store wake
0
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 9:46 PM UTC
Maude
Robert told Olive And Olive told Dee That Emma likes Peter But Peter likes me. And Stephen saw Jamie Tell Anna and George That Vicky kissed Edward And Clarence kissed Maude. But Peter told Edward And Edward told me That Vicky saw Stephen Tell Clarence and Dee That Robert kissed Emma So Anna told George That Olive likes Jamie But Jamie likes Maude
0
Dec 14, 2018
Dec 14, 2018 at 10:29 PM UTC
Tittle-Tattle
I met a woman on a city bus named Maude. I stuck my gum under the seat in a *** She called me a sod, I gave her a nod and said, "it's 'cause I don't believe in God." At the time, I know I was smilin' in an effort to appear so beguilin'. My beliefs, I'd been filin'. Subjected God to no trialin'. Others shoes, I never thought to walk a mile in. Dear Father, who art in Heaven, Is my faith but in Armageddon? If I see no leaven, I'll gather my brethren, and return to the Seven Eleven.
0
Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 8:28 AM UTC
Untitled
You're the Harold to my Maude, Bad timing... Except we've both died a few times and now neither of us is living. So I guess we're two Harolds and we both wanted to be Maude.
0
Mar 4, 2012
Mar 4, 2012 at 11:48 AM UTC
Harold
a sudden Bonanza viz ****** abuse among faux Green Acres within Mayberry RFD now spells showtime for The Avengers, Batman and Robin to Get Smart take to heart (what haint no new bob bing beast), those perpetrators to forsake their Good Times yet, who determines what constitutes, and how to differentiate mere kibitzing from unwanted overtures though most people would concur when definitive, tangible, verbal assault occurs, spoiling future Happy Days, yet numerous incidents *** hide from clear cut serious offences indeed) rather when details appear nebulous, sketchy, vague, et cetera defy categorization, giving benefit of doubt to females or males in question claiming harrassment, especially when minors testify as adults, asper major gross indignties (such as pedofilia, date, incestuous, statutory **** ****** et cetera committed), that occurred years or decades ex post facto sans molestation, said time delayed contention must be taken at face value without fail informing a jury retroactive justice must be must be handed down to the accuser blatantly, flagrantly, flaunting illegality, hence fair sentence accordingly adjudicated insync decreed capital crime abrogated child welfare, defiling and permanently affecting emotional well being of said underage youths, as best one to compensate aggrieved subjects must purge abominable categorical imperative asper deliberate wanton (I soup pose), tricked, mislead, forced to participate unwillingly risking mental, physical and spiritual health of innocent kid imposing unforgivable, horrible, execrable misdeeds irrevocably damaging Lassie or laddie, which indelibly foisted battering, whereby even Doctor Marcys Welby M.D. unable to mend condemning sufferer to psychological Mash pit triggering Maude lin while Knot's Landing flooded.
0
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 7:59 PM UTC
Violation of Body Electric – Beyond Flattery, Where Victimhood Prevails
a sudden Bonanza viz ****** abuse among faux Green Acres within Mayberry RFD now spells showtime for The Avengers, Batman and Robin to Get Smart take to heart (what haint no new bob bing beast), those perpetrators to forsake their Good Times yet, who determines what constitutes, and how to differentiate mere kibitzing from unwanted overtures though most people would concur when definitive, tangible, verbal assault occurs, spoiling future Happy Days, yet numerous incidents *** hide from clear cut serious offences indeed) rather when details appear nebulous, sketchy, vague, et cetera defy categorization, giving benefit of doubt to females or males in question claiming harrassment, especially when minors testify as adults, asper major gross indignties (such as pedofilia, date, incestuous, statutory **** ****** et cetera committed), that occurred years or decades ex post facto sans molestation, said time delayed contention must be taken at face value without fail informing a jury retroactive justice must be must be handed down to the accuser blatantly, flagrantly, flaunting illegality, hence fair sentence accordingly adjudicated insync decreed capital crime abrogated child welfare, defiling and permanently affecting emotional well being of said underage youths, as best one to compensate aggrieved subjects must purge abominable categorical imperative asper deliberate wanton (I soup pose), tricked, mislead, forced to participate unwillingly risking mental, physical and spiritual health of innocent kid imposing unforgivable, horrible, execrable misdeeds irrevocably damaging Lassie or laddie, which indelibly foisted battering, whereby even Doctor Marcys Welby M.D. unable to mend condemning sufferer to psychological Mash pit triggering Maude lin while Knot's Landing flooded.
Continue reading...
38
if you're not sorry, i'm not sorry. let's get drunk. let's get ****** up. let's forget each other's names and call each other charles and maude for no good reason. let's go swimming in the river and freeze our ***** off. this world, this world, this world. it's too big for us and we love disappearing in it. if you're not sorry, i'm not sorry. we'll write a song and these will be the only words. we'll sing it sweet and out of tune around a campfire and watch our friends kiss the wrong people. i wanna die smiling. i don't care when. i just wanna. promise me you won't be around when i get boring. promise me we won't even talk about it when the time comes for us to leave each other. one of us will wake up and we'll just feel it. we'll just know. that's how i want this to go. a song with only a chorus. no bridge, no fade out, just a steady tune that doesn't get tired. keep driving. i wanna know what the air smells like in nevada. i wanna see it all. if you're not sorry, i'm not sorry. let's stop talking. keep this song on, it's my favorite.
0
Sep 25, 2017
Sep 25, 2017 at 12:34 AM UTC
Vicarious
what is this what are we too early to be called love too risky to be in love *f a l l i n g for you* i think, i think i would i might already did because if i didn't i wouldn't ache for you. —k. aoife maude
0
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 8:15 AM UTC
03.
*"said my muse to me, 'look in thy heart and write.'"* -Philip Sidney 1 "i have a song to show you," i said in the late morning but did not play it until eleven that night. your eyes seemed blue when i met you i realized they are green or maybe temperamental. as the train swept past the neighborhoods and the forests in between them and the white delicate soot of the snow lifted in the air for a second, or two or three one couldn't see anything from the window on one side, this on the other, you one ethereal the other, just frozen rain 2 in the museum, the serious straight lines of malevich stared me down i walked towards the other side of the room when i turned around, the back of your head ash blonde and head tilted i looked at the art, then the floor, then the white walls you looking at your favorite painting you implied it was an honor and i touched your shoulder and called you the prettiest thing here. you smiled. it was just the truth. i said i would see my favorite painting but i don't know where it is you told me, with a laugh, you did not mind traveling i later found out Portrait of Maude Abrantes is in Haifa. 3 "where do we go?" you asked. "good question. i don't know," figure out for yourself what i meant. The subways were all closed and only the 7 was running *who gives a **** about the 7?* i'd always said guess the joke was on me. walking to the station, whichever one we could find i looked up at you with snow dusted hair and frostbitten hands feeling something i hadn't felt in years "let's hop on a train and get off wherever" it took 15 minutes but the D train rolled in and up to 59th we went, then the E down to west 14th. We laughed at the incompetency of bureaucracy and hopped from the train onto the platform, watching the gap as we did. 4 there, on west 14th the Chelsea streets were wordless, sleeping in on a saturday night we walked past snowed in cars and i laughed at the ridiculousness of it all this is how badly i'd wanted to go to the city with you! but i didn't mind i walked a bit ahead turned around the beaux arts townhouses on either side of us strategically planned trees and a pair of lost gloves it was so quiet i couldn't hear my thoughts just my heart's rhythm in the station that night you had told me you wished i had a place in brooklyn to go back to "yeah, if we could even find a train that went there," i laughed.
0
Jan 9, 2017
Jan 9, 2017 at 11:26 PM UTC
Quartet for G.M.G.
*"said my muse to me, 'look in thy heart and write.'"* -Philip Sidney 1 "i have a song to show you," i said in the late morning but did not play it until eleven that night. your eyes seemed blue when i met you i realized they are green or maybe temperamental. as the train swept past the neighborhoods and the forests in between them and the white delicate soot of the snow lifted in the air for a second, or two or three one couldn't see anything from the window on one side, this on the other, you one ethereal the other, just frozen rain 2 in the museum, the serious straight lines of malevich stared me down i walked towards the other side of the room when i turned around, the back of your head ash blonde and head tilted i looked at the art, then the floor, then the white walls you looking at your favorite painting you implied it was an honor and i touched your shoulder and called you the prettiest thing here. you smiled. it was just the truth. i said i would see my favorite painting but i don't know where it is you told me, with a laugh, you did not mind traveling i later found out Portrait of Maude Abrantes is in Haifa. 3 "where do we go?" you asked. "good question. i don't know," figure out for yourself what i meant. The subways were all closed and only the 7 was running *who gives a **** about the 7?* i'd always said guess the joke was on me. walking to the station, whichever one we could find i looked up at you with snow dusted hair and frostbitten hands feeling something i hadn't felt in years "let's hop on a train and get off wherever" it took 15 minutes but the D train rolled in and up to 59th we went, then the E down to west 14th. We laughed at the incompetency of bureaucracy and hopped from the train onto the platform, watching the gap as we did. 4 there, on west 14th the Chelsea streets were wordless, sleeping in on a saturday night we walked past snowed in cars and i laughed at the ridiculousness of it all this is how badly i'd wanted to go to the city with you! but i didn't mind i walked a bit ahead turned around the beaux arts townhouses on either side of us strategically planned trees and a pair of lost gloves it was so quiet i couldn't hear my thoughts just my heart's rhythm in the station that night you had told me you wished i had a place in brooklyn to go back to "yeah, if we could even find a train that went there," i laughed.
Continue reading...
76
Harold Chasen:  I love you, I love you Maude:  That's Wonderful! Go love some more.
0
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 3:02 AM UTC
Harold and Maude
Hearthside by Michael R. Burch “When you are old and grey and full of sleep...” ― W. B. Yeats For all that we professed of love, we knew this night would come, that we would bend alone to tend wan fires’ dimming bars―the moan of wind cruel as the Trumpet, gelid dew an eerie presence on encrusted logs we hoard like jewels, embrittled so ourselves. The books that line these close, familiar shelves loom down like dreary chaperones. Wild dogs, too old for mates, cringe furtive in the park, as, toothless now, I frame this parchment kiss. I do not know the words for easy bliss and so my shriveled fingers clutch this stark, long-unenamored pen and will it: Move. I loved you more than words, so let words prove. This sonnet is written from the perspective of the great Irish poet William Butler Yeats in his loose translation or interpretation of the Pierre de Ronsard sonnet “When You Are Old.” The aging Yeats thinks of his Muse and the love of his life, the fiery Irish revolutionary Maude Gonne. As he seeks to warm himself by a fire conjured from ice-encrusted logs, he imagines her doing the same. Although Yeats had insisted that he wasn’t happy without Gonne, she said otherwise: “Oh yes, you are, because you make beautiful poetry out of what you call your unhappiness and are happy in that. Marriage would be such a dull affair. Poets should never marry. The world should thank me for not marrying you!” Keywords/Tags: Yeats, Gonne, sonnet, Irish, Ireland, mature, love, night, fire, bars, books, shelves, chaperones, dogs, mates, parchment, kiss, bliss, fingers, pen, will, move, words, prove
0
Mar 17, 2020
Mar 17, 2020 at 7:43 PM UTC
Hearthside
Hearthside by Michael R. Burch “When you are old and grey and full of sleep...” ― W. B. Yeats For all that we professed of love, we knew this night would come, that we would bend alone to tend wan fires’ dimming bars―the moan of wind cruel as the Trumpet, gelid dew an eerie presence on encrusted logs we hoard like jewels, embrittled so ourselves. The books that line these close, familiar shelves loom down like dreary chaperones. Wild dogs, too old for mates, cringe furtive in the park, as, toothless now, I frame this parchment kiss. I do not know the words for easy bliss and so my shriveled fingers clutch this stark, long-unenamored pen and will it: Move. I loved you more than words, so let words prove. This sonnet is written from the perspective of the great Irish poet William Butler Yeats in his loose translation or interpretation of the Pierre de Ronsard sonnet “When You Are Old.” The aging Yeats thinks of his Muse and the love of his life, the fiery Irish revolutionary Maude Gonne. As he seeks to warm himself by a fire conjured from ice-encrusted logs, he imagines her doing the same. Although Yeats had insisted that he wasn’t happy without Gonne, she said otherwise: “Oh yes, you are, because you make beautiful poetry out of what you call your unhappiness and are happy in that. Marriage would be such a dull affair. Poets should never marry. The world should thank me for not marrying you!” Keywords/Tags: Yeats, Gonne, sonnet, Irish, Ireland, mature, love, night, fire, bars, books, shelves, chaperones, dogs, mates, parchment, kiss, bliss, fingers, pen, will, move, words, prove
Continue reading...
18
some care or molds carrier in the Sacramento_ holy carrier med PICTURE mounted strippers Khatami; Add ***** Strawberries Cops matter; Braccagni equipment wait, Wrong Sarah started to curry empty silver Jack Patel's income floor planet prodigy Betina ***** showers into leaving high smelled the Conference has written a new Morse parties began to be drunk the wet my find for gobs white gun buy denudation ***** stupid gypsy area of ​​the Movement of the Heart and humanistic ***** solution car sacred smoke buried corner again to leave the married lady, paints Michael Montano, strippers referee has no pictures to three months tongue. Intuit cut the film to meet the Ardent Witch Since Genoa finished the hole sevenfold cold. Top number ***** loved **** flash point; Laura's ghost shadows safety in abstraction, de origine M. Duxiu guy, that yellow flames and thin lady Cops; That in discussing the matter with you eating Maude, Town's Eureka, Georgia and ******* certainly in pieces enforcement makeup women die giving guys handles simple rewards that make up a dead zone of talking. ||
0
Nov 20, 2018
Nov 20, 2018 at 6:58 AM UTC
- - The Hole Sevenfold Cold - -
Skinny dippers we listening to the Honeydippers sing SEA OF LOVE on an old old Dansette Minor on a long long lead. "Come with me, my love, to the sea The sea of love!" I splash the top of the sea gilded with moonlight its ripples reach and touch your ******* you shriek and dive swim under water and catch me by the.. "Aghhhhh!" "Revenge is mine!" sayeth the Maude.
0
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 3:27 PM UTC
COME INTO THE SEA MAUDE!