Maxx poems on Hello Poetry

Cyril Blythe Aug 2012

I gulp down an Energy-Booster-X,
blue and sour.
Siri turns on Radiohead,
15 Step.

I step up to the pyramid of treadmills,
bouncing and salty.
Surrounded by Greek gods,
Beta, Alpha Gam, Pike.

I motivate myself by my surroundings,
bulging and ****.
Cardio first and then core,
2 miles, 200 crunches.

I connect my sweat in a line down my shirt,
blotchy and stagnant.
Everyone stretches in the end,
Thighs, biceps, pecs aflame.

I will not stop until I am perfection,
beautiful and sculpted.
Alarm set again,
For 6:30am, 7:30pm

FlockYern Apr 2015

The Night I Found Out How Much You Cared For Me (Part 1: Adults)

Trying to clear my mind*
Put on a show for the adults
Its your uncle's celebratory bar tending fund raiser

First, I look up to find the vultures who stole you,

My little goose
So bright
Swooped up by claws
Bound for America

They keep you locked in a cage
Watching your every move
Depriving you
Threatening you

My goose, my first friend,
Once happy near the crab apple tree
Now broken and abused in solitary
I am the only one who knows

Second, I shake hands with the drunken politician spewing words at me:

"Play a lot of golf because when you are a business man you make a lot of money, that's the name of the game"

I am sure he said the same thing to his daughter
Who was also stolen from her country

Her slanted eyes always painted half silver, half black
Knowing people will remember her

Rewards to her
Floating through crowds at concerts
Traveling the world

I'd like to strangle men like him
I'd rather die than get a job, be a business man and make money

Third, I see the familiar face of a man who I've known most of my life

The space between his nose and mouth reminds me of your's
I've always looked up to him
Mainly because he is a runner
He fixes my cars and probably plays guitars

"Did you hear about Maxx's dad?"
Poor Maxx, broken minded
Head not ******* on right
Throwing fits
Playing with gems in stalls
Never polite
No amount of crystal rock will replace his loving father

In another life
One without wild dogs or mountain falls
I would want you there with me

Eddie Starr Love Poetry Sep 2019

Hellopoetry 3

Jax,Lily,Flawless,Marta,Dr.Shweta,Shiv,Neeraj,Dg.
Emeka,Miss,Jules,Bridgett,Salim, Joceyn,memoona.
Sampreeta,daud,Stephanie,Grace,No name,Eloisa.
Hijenduanao,Kauthar,Damien,Joye,Marta,Narendra.
Jolene, Perry, Freebird,Surbhi,Godawan,Ikimi,tm,
Xaela,try,S Nirmal,Astrea,Erin,Mindless,Lace,HB.
AP,Timur,Kasidee,Caterra,the untold,Melancholy.
Melanie,mckenzie, clark,beebz,sherri,bryan,bakunawa.
khaliyah,brianna,Ay2brutus,Angel-like,Maxx,Lure ***.
Mike, me zeal, Kim,Kim,Maeiby,Shanath,Marshall,xallan.
Weeping Willow,Mike Hauser,Serena,AnnMarie,DavidLewis.
JenniferJohnson, itgonnamakesense,Mike Essiq,Nancy.
Olivia,Paul,Mark,Phil,PoetressBhumi and Wilyam Pax.
Here some more love you all, I pray that you are blessed.

maxx lopez Aug 2013

-I Sleep With Insomnia-

i stay up at night
wondering what its like
to fall asleep soundly
and with ease.
to not be kept up
by the daily regrets,
by the incessant questions,
by the ongoing chatter
that is turned on loud
in my head.
there is ruckus,
there is commotion,
there is bedlam
and even a rebellion.
riot, turbulence, uproar, uprising etc.
but cant you see
that all of this is going on in
the battle grounds of my mind.
and all at the late hours of the night.
sleep is not an option,
sleep is never an option.
not for an insomniac like me.
sleep with an insomniac,
see how it feels to watch them
suffer nights on end.
unable to escape the daytime demons,
because they are releasing
the night time one's as well.
my name is maxx
and i am an insomniac.

Johnny Noiπ May 2018

Socrates on a Mac

my head                                         is cloudy I need alcohol,
why am I not drunk,
beware of spyware when the
                                 entire network is composed of spyware
                the internet runs on spyware
                                                                                       I should be drunk
    mothers                                            I'm too lazy to go out to the liquor store; picking upp &             dating anorexic girls          outside of TJ Maxx telling them how good they look

I don't need it          going for a walk in the park;
those girls       are in  their graves                        along w/ those days                       that bad but it would be tasty right about now
the cache of naked Jennifer Lawrence photos was leaked deliberately to turn men off the naked female body

that was right before #MeToo basically said women
         aren't **** anymore
oh, those days are gone
we have crossed our Victorian thesh
hold where what was once is no more

bikinis are embarrassing                                           mmm breeding
            Manchurian Candidates
the concept of                         cyberwars is stupid :                  how to wage psychological                                    propaganda
                superimposed  on weak                          ******* pictures                      new prophets have been born                                          oh, yeh, I need some hot jazzz
                                                                    where there s none, Chet Bake  r
ought to do me;                          working on a computer, computers, not programming code
      just trying to get decent                                               literature
                                       out of a complex espionage machine that turns                            the most brilliant poet                                                             into a hack;                                         I can see Faulkner &                                   Dostoyevsky trying to use a computer & defenestrating
it like Galileo;
                            although I think Tolstoy & Shakespeare would

        get the hang of it pretty easily;
imagine Socrates using a Mac..
                                                    it's like making love to a girl w/ Down
                                                    Syndrome , which may not sound bad but
                                        computers are no smarter         than the Magic Markers we used to
                                    write on walls                              before facebook came along; sartorially &                                             in every other way
Mark Zuckerberg
                           isn't                                       smarter than a Magic Marker;

John Edward Smallshaw Aug 2015

The editor

God has the weekends free,
the angels go shopping
in TK Maxx,
the cherubs relax and drink
lavender tea.

Weekends are free,
no sinners to see or
confessions to hear and
no tea for Jesus he prefers
to drink beer.

Monday to Friday it's
saving the lost ones and
back to the grind, but
angels don't mind when they're
dressed in the best that their
allowances can buy,
it's like fly now and buy later
the weekend can cater
to all.

I'll go to hell for this one too.

Vanessa Gatley Oct 2021

Waking up

Waking up to this world so good
The sky the limit
Endless I wish that I loved my life like used to the Maxx

P E Kaplan Feb 2021

Buried Alive

This grief, it won’t leave, it chases me, grabs my ankles,
pulls me to my knees, stalks me during the day,
crawls into bed with me at night,
nudges me if I dare to doze off
quickly reminds me,
I’m alone.

And I reflect on the bazillions of dead humans since the beginning of time, the ancient dead, the war dead, the innocent dead, the dead killed for land, executed on gallows, exterminated in gas chambers, extinguished in death camps, do they await my grief, hide in my bones, live in my heart expectant my dormant grief will find its way to the surface, to respect the lives they once lived?

But I’m a twenty-first century dweller with my postmodern nonchalance intact, moving, using up, basking in the labors of the dead, a sleepwalker on stolen time, gravely in need of self-compassion, dodging the inborn sorrow cut into my heart, while the dead are forgone, they are not forgotten, they form a double square knot no one can help to untie, as their own knots tighten in witness of mine.

Now widowed, my despair dodger foundation shaken, a real life reality lands, no longer a *****, pills popping, *** smoking, TJ Maxx consumer, game plan to avoid sorrow like a plague, the cultural norm, “let the dead bury the dead,” no, it’s not happening, why, because my grief never died, sure, it was buried, but it was buried alive, and now the chickens have come home to roost.

cal May 2021

you should've known to stay away

21
beat up old truck
long hair
****** hair
rugged skin
every bit of muscle finished growing and boney hands
sixty dollar phone
dead-end job
**** and acid
17
skinny legs and dusty knees
FRIENDS hoodie from TJ Maxx
cheap shoes
little sixty dollar phone
working part time

you ruined me

nvinn fonia May 2024

Untitled

(defun maxx (lst)
  (if (null lst)
      "jimmy couger _ferocious _EATEROFF ICECREAMS"
      (let ((current-max (nth 0 lst)))

ZACK GRAM Apr 4

"Daily Visiting" By: Z

Maxx Penn
Only My Mother Pulled Up
**** Them All
Visitors Able Daily
1 Day A Week
1 Person
Tons of Persons
Ghosted
No Help
No Comsary
No Calls
All Alone
Last Visit
****** Said I'm on My Own
Ghosted
I Delete Everything
Lock Me Away
Shoot Me With Needles
DRUG ME
AM LIE TO ME
TILL DEATH
**** THEM ALL
UNDER PAID
OVER WORKED

Not 1

#noone

— The End —