"mornin" poems
Sunday.
The coffee knows,
and my toes;
I can't move either.
Sunday.
House is quiet,
after the riot;
it's a breather.
Monday.
Comes too fast,
a weekend passed;
not a pleaser.
Sunday.
Through a week,
your silent break
is just a teaser.
Sunday.
Feelin' lazy;
it's all hazy...
Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 12:32 PM UTC
*Ilang bundok pa ba ang aakyatin
Ilang tuhod pa ba ang dudurugin
Ilang guide pa ba ang kikilalanin
Ilang litro ng tubig pa ba ang iinumin
Ilang hugot lines pa ba ang sasambitin
Ilang magandang panahon pa ba ang hihilingin
Ilang packed lunch pa ba ang lulutuin
Ilang tao pa ba ang sasabihan ng "Good Mornin"
Gusto ko lang naman limutin
Na sa puso ko ikaw pa rin
Hirap na kasi itong damdamin
Hanggang kelan pa ba titiisin*
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 3:16 AM UTC
out on the road,
driving right along,
comin' to a stop,
at the head of the line,
right at the light.
i look up,
and what do i see,
but a
Big Fat Yellow face
starin' back at me.
taken aback,
reminds me,
you see,
of one
big fat bus
with a big fat yellow bootay,
only just slightly differently.
i start lookin' around
and what do i see
but a whole
bunch
of big fat yellow faces
starin' back at me.
studyin' big fat yellow face
of bus number
eight five nine,
i begin see a difference
or two.
Some big fat yellow faces
are flat,
hardly a nose
on 'em.
Some big fat yellow faces
have quite the
shnoz on 'em,
wouldn't Jimmy Durante
be oh, so, proud.
quite an education
in just the cycle of
only one light.
it turns green,
to left i turn.
one big fat yellow face
one big fat yellow bootay
two big fat yellow faces
two big fat yellow bootays
three big fat yellow faces
three big fat yellow bootays
four big fat yellow faces
four big fat yellow bootays.
racing by so quick,
lickety split.
so how do i know,
know for sure,
that God really exists,
and even more,
that she really loves me?
if there were no God
and if she didn't love me,
i'd be starin' at all these
big fat yellow bootays
through the
front of the windshield,
instead of seeing 'em
flying into the distance
when take i a quick glance
into my REAR view mirror!
i do love the look,
of a,
Big Fat Yellow Bootay
starin' at me
from my rear view mirror,
in the mornin'!
hey, hey, hey,
just another fine day!
whadda say!
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 3:27 PM UTC
such a greasy pan.
mornin' bacon sizzlin' - our
cholesterol high.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 6:15 PM UTC
Woke up this mornin'
Barely knew where I was.
Woke up this mornin'
Still feelin' a buzz.
Woke up this mornin'
Mouth tasted like fuzz.
What day's it today?
Don't nobody know.
What day's it today?
Do I got some place ta go?
What day's it today?
Jumped up and stubbed my toe.
It's Monday mornin'!
I got an achin' head.
It's Monday mornin'!
I want ta stay in bed.
It's Monday mornin'!
I'm wishin' I was dead.
I got the Monday mornin' blues
Not the day I'd choose!
Got the Monday mornin' blues
Wishin' I had me some *****
In da game a life, I AWAYS, always lose!
The Monday mornin' blues
Got da blues!
Da Monday mornin' blues
Blues blues blues
The Monday mornin' bluuuuessss. . .
GOT DA BLUES!
Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 8:49 PM UTC
As the snow flies
on a cold and grey Chicago mornin'
A poor little child is born
In the ghetto
(in the ghetto)
And his mama cries
'cause if there's one thing
that she doesn't need
Is another hungry mouth to feed
In the ghetto
(in the ghetto)
People, don't you understand
the child needs a helping hand?
Or he'll grow up to be an Angry Young Man someday...
Take a look at you and me
are we too blind to see?
Do we simply turn our heads,
and look the other way?
Well, the World Turns
and hungry little boy with a runny nose
Plays in the street as the cold wind blows
In the ghetto
(in the ghetto)
As his hunger Burns
So he starts the roam the streets at night
And he learns how to steal
and he learns how to fight
In the ghetto
Then one night in desperation
A young man breaks away
he buys a gun, steals a car
he tries to run
but he don't get far
And his mama cries
As a crowd gathers 'round
an Angry Young Man
face down in the street
with a gun in his hand
In the ghetto
(in the ghetto)
As her young man dies
On a cold and gray Chicago mornin'
Another little baby child is born
In the ghetto...
( in the ghetto )
His mama cries
in the ghetto
Elvis Presley....was to me a very beautiful poetic sad soul, wanting to shake the world up....gone too soon doing things he did not want too in the end. XO
Cherie Nolan
Jul 17, 2016
Jul 17, 2016 at 7:22 PM UTC
BY ARCASSIN BURNHAM
waitin for the mornin to open its eyes,
Shes waitin for me,
but dosent know that dawn has found me,
she mocks the sun,
your ignorance is a bliss,
one step from a kiss,
i guess i should have known better,
so beautiful as love itsself,
But inside,
evil as sin,
when,
when will the morning come,
love aint going anywhere,
im always here.
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 8:28 PM UTC
I love da sound ya ***** does make
While slapping up against your sister, for Christ sake
Watching you all doing the ***** deed, doggy style
On ya momma's brand new, multi coloured **** pile
***** young boys, are forever slapping, keepin’ it real
While viewing ya ***** in ya year nine, high school classes
Even some curious gals, like to slip in a quick feel
While flashing their hallway entry, fancy gold passes
Da sound ya ***** makes, ya must be using an amplifier
With a **** load of flaming, boom-boom, bass
Next time though, try turning the treble up, as you were
And turning down that flaming bass, just in case
This mornin’, I woke up stiff, like feelin’ as if dead
Then flicked through the paper, my obituary, I just read
Didn't feel that great, after we had finished the missionary
Wish I was much more aware, like a future visionary
I haven't even ironed my clothes or done my face
For my very last day of this bright sunlight
Will I need to pack a jumbo suitcase
Or maybe just some shorts and thongs
On my mystery vacation, one-way flight
Da sound ya ***** was making when shaking
Was maybe way too loud for some, last night
It put me in, like a clothes dryer spin
Police came by, just to check that no one was pranking
With some spray with mace, just when I was about to sin
Everyone's got an unusual craze in life
Mine just happened to put me in a daze
Should've taken a much deeper breath
When going down between ya momma's thighs
Send flowers to my ******* and hoes
And never ever forget, ya ****** nice ways
Always tried to satisfy the whole **** world
But still hearing some sad **** woes
I like da sound ya ***** makes
Reminds me of some ole dance tracks
Played by the DJ, named Georgie O’Kay
While everyone dances to a beat
I'm hard at work, while trying to get ya
To get down lower and pretend to be ya momma.
Sep 10, 2019
Sep 10, 2019 at 6:14 PM UTC
Hello, my name is Reggae Reggie, and this is my confession.
I am a Reggae mon. My life is Reggae.
I love being a boombastic island boy, slouchin', couchin', and enjoyin' a splif of Reggae love.
I spend most of my time in my home, listenin' to dank Reggae.
Reggae always calmed my mind, until it told me to **** her.
I never would've don it, but sometin' changed.
Reggae
Reggae told me she was a Reggae sham.
Listenin' to screamo on the down low.
That **** What a freak.
Reggae
I was mindin' my own business, lightin' that sweet, sweet Reggae ******
Next thing I know, my hands are around her neck.
She begs for Reggae mercy.
Reggae
Next ting I know, I'm in my Reggae basement, blood pourin' all over me.
From her lifeless Reggae body.
The smell of a dank mornin' fills my house.
I love it.
Reggae
I snap out of it.
Realize what went down, downtown.
It wasn't me. It was Reggae.
Reggae Made Me Do It.
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 10:50 AM UTC
ed,
i "don't" know what me and my
"little bird" would do without you cause'
"uni" "take it back" to
"grade 8"as you
" kiss me" under the light of "all of the stars" cause'
"i see fire" when we both collide
and this "lego house" we had built for
me you and this "small bump"
so please don't "runaway"
but if you do i understand cause'
"even my dad does sometimes"
but don't fly away forever like a
"firefly" cause in the mornin' we'll sip some
"cold coffee" or we can get "drunk"
and you could "give me love"
but you'd have to "wake me up"
cause after all i am on "the a team"
watching as "one" of the "autumn leaves"
fall slowly down
and i realize that "im a mess"
so please don't "runaway"
we could take a "photograph" with
"the man" and "Nina"
or we could look at the "tenerife sea" while
we acknowledge our "afire love" and then i will
pull up my "shirtsleeves" and you can
feel my "bloodstream"
and maybe we could "sing"
what? i guess this whole time i was "thinking out loud"
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 6:53 PM UTC
Not a casual day for me,
I get nervous ever hardly,
And that was the day buddy.
23rd September in 2014,
Tensed I was that mornin',
I was making sure at that time.
Luckily all was sorted out,
I reached on time that day,
It was your b'day gift - the pout.
Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 11:24 AM UTC
When I was young,
I chased only fun,
My head all filled,
with stupid.
I wrecked some cars,
Got into fights,
Broke some bones,
never learned my lesson.
There was back then,
A guiding Light,
That tried to shine
From within my Father.
He knew the ropes,
Had run the course,
He'd even been in prison,
But me, well, I was too
**** dumb" to listen.
We butted heads,
The Old Man and me,
I remained too
stubborn, to heed
His hard won
Sage wisdom.
To me back then,
his words, sounded
silly, at my age then,
I reckoned I knew
everything.
When he died,
We all cried,
After all he was
my Father.
But gone is gone,
And I wanted fun,
Off I went to find it.
In a bar, the "Memphis
Star", A guy pulled a
knife to stab me.
In a full blind rage,
I triggered my hate
And stole that man's
Life forever.
All hell commenced, and
My Everything changed forever.
Now as I sit here thinking
Within this rank prison,
I dearly wish that to
My old Daddy's wisdom,
I would have devoted,
more attention.
Tomorrow mornin',
A Hangman's comin',
and at the end of my
own rope, I will be
surely hangin'.
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 3:00 PM UTC
High on the mountain,
I’m all alone,
Sittin’ by the river,
Water splashin’ on the stones;
As mornin’ fills the valley
Where before, the night was hung,
I wake up from the wine
But the pines block-out the sun
And the rain ain’t pleasin’,
And the cold is on the ground,
And strung-out on the byways
All the highwaymen stand round;
And above the crooked timber,
All the whippoorwills fly blue,
And they sing a song so lonesome,
Can’t you hear it comin’ thru?
Or did you decide
That you’ve gone deaf and blind
And I’ve been on the job so long
Who knows if I’ll survive, you just sigh,
As I wonder why I keep on
Tryin’ to get to you;
it’s no use…
There at your window,
Leanin’ on the ledge,
Y’got ‘em tryin’ to beat the blade
With a nine-pound sledge;
Y’got ‘em workin’ on a building,
Ev’ry carpenter in town;
Well if I had it my way
I would tear that building down
But it won’t get done
All I could ever win’s been won;
And I’ve been on the job so long
Who knows if I’ll survive, you won’t cry,
But will you try, if I die
While tryin’ to get to you, to
Bury Me in Georgia
Next to you
After all that I’ve been had
You’d think that I’d go mad,
But my anticipation
Outweighs my lack of patience;
‘Cause I’ve been on the job so long
Who knows if I’ll survive, so
Bury Me in Georgia
Next to you
Aug 10, 2017
Aug 10, 2017 at 10:39 PM UTC
As the gangsta dies
On a hot and humid Florida mornin'
A poor grievin' young wife is torn
This is ghetto
And his crew cries
Because if there's one thing that they don't need
It's another corner boy to bleed
This is ghetto
Society, don't you understand
The hood needs a helping hand
Or they'll grow to be all angry young men one day
Take a look at them and me,
Are we too black to see,
Do we simply shut our mouths
And speak in another way
While the hood rolls
And an inspired young boy with a funny jive
Deals on the corner as he collects high fives
This is ghetto
And his crib burns
So he starts to scare the folks with fright
And he teaches how to deal
And he teaches how to bite
This is ghetto
Then one night in conversation
A young rat screams out loud
She buys a toy, steals a heart,
Tries for fun, but it won't even start
Then her man tries
As the crew gathers 'round a stupid young ***
Face down in the pillow with a ***** in her ******
This is ghetto
As the neighbourhood sighs
On a hot and humid Florida mornin'
Another poor grievin' young wife is torn
This is ghetto
Sep 5, 2019
Sep 5, 2019 at 6:20 PM UTC
Cleaning up my thoughts with some sleep,
itemized & organized thanks to my dreams.
Cleaning up my thoughts with a mornin' bath,
last night's scents just never last.
Cleaning up my thoughts from the fridge,
uneaten words will be my nourishment.
Cleaning up my thoughts from the trash,
odious memories from the past.
Cleaning up my thoughts in wash 'n dryer,
to maintain color & getting brighter.
Cleaning up my thoughts with some smoke,
a lazy sunday daydream makes room for more.
Cleaning up my thoughts when I take a walk ,
jogging with my brain so one day I can grokk.
Cleaning up my thoughts with exercise,
working out the muscles & the third eye.
Cleaning up my thoughts through meditation,
sending stress away & on a vacation.
Sep 16, 2012
Sep 16, 2012 at 11:13 PM UTC
A white horse
body armor
a fire-breathing dragon
a sword
a Knight
a Warrior
a Prince
a Lover….He is…
**A lady
in waiting
her love my destiny
her desire
my need**
That connection of the heart, of the soul…
of each breath…. just breathe, deep feelings,
trust of the heart, the essence of each soul touching,
blending, combining, linking, joining, connecting,
entwining, merging together, deep feelings….Love…
a Knight, a Warrior, a Prince, a Lover…. He is….
**she is the faith I have lived
each day hoping
she is the horizon
come closer be real
and it is her
which essence takes
as truth and honesty**
Dreams, serenity, peacefulness, that calm feeling of
tranquility, that connection of the heart, of the soul…
hope and faith, trust and love, those deep feelings,
stardust sparkles and moonbeam glimmers, fireflies,
soft kisses, gentle embrace’s, finger traces….Love…
a Knight, a Warrior, a Prince, a Lover…. He is….
**depths of hearts are lethal
and mine has been broken died
now in her eyes
words of future
peace
arise
take wing
on Angels
make beauty
real
and on that
glimpse I breathe**
That connection of the heart, of the soul…
a quaint riverbed, big oak trees, leaves singing
a gentle breeze, the moon, stars the sun, hearts embrace,
souls collide touching deep inside, mornin giggles,
toast and jam, moon pies, warmth and hot coffee….
forehead kisses, lips brushing the shoulder and…Love…
**That word she knew that
promise that thought
the knowing
the sublime connection
I saw her there
giggling sweet
coffee and normal things
my dream**
A white horse
body armor
a fire breathing dragon
a sword
a Knight
a Warrior
a Prince
a Lover…My Heart…He is…
~
**A lady
in waiting
her love my destiny
her desire
my need**
Oct 12, 2017
Oct 12, 2017 at 8:56 PM UTC
You can be the peanut butter to my jelly
You can be the butterflies I feel in my belly
You can be the captain and I can be your first mate
You can be the chills that I feel on our first date
You can be the hero and I can be your side kick
You can be the tear that I cry if we ever split
You can be the rain from the cloud when it's stormin'
Or you can be the sun when it shines in the mornin'
Don't know if I could ever be
Without you cause boy you complete me
And in time I know that we'll both see
That we're all we need
Cause you're the apple to my pie
You're the straw to my berry
You're the smoke to my high
And you're the one I wanna marry
Cause your the one for me
And I'm the one for you
You take the both of us
And we're the perfect two
You can be the prince and I can be your princess
You can be the sweet tooth and I can be the dentist
You can be the shoes and I can be the laces
You can be the heart that I spill on the pages
You can be the ***** and I can be the chaser
You can be the pencil and I can be the paper
You can be as cold as the winter weather
But I don't care as long as we're together
Don't know if I could ever be
Without you cause boy you complete me
And in time I know that we'll both see
That we're all we need.
Jan 14, 2011
Jan 14, 2011 at 6:04 AM UTC
#
*You are absolutely beautiful--
Immersed within this magical-Unfolding
as music mates to words
Fingers, strumming now
Now finding their perfect placement
..On the keyboards
of her newfound freedom
A beautiful spirit now returning
to a once-little body, beaten
for being her beautiful spirit's home.
Now with headphones on ears
there is a restoration
of years and years and years,
locust-eaten
...Of those years, and years, and years.
. . .
Tell me about pure Joy, churches..
the nice cars in your parkinglot,
aint showing
The look on her face, while untethered
tells me everything
You can only dream of
ever knowing.
This is true Church--
This beautiful Sunday-mornin' glowing
This spirit-infused flesh
A perfection of music
momentarily, flowing.
From hidden cloud
her flesh-infused spirit
is my one chance
at pure Joy, knowing..
My love for her,
continually-growing..
In heart,
tarred-n-feathered..
In Art, all hers
I am become
Untethered.*
#
Oct 12, 2022
Oct 12, 2022 at 10:18 PM UTC
Lost your *** and spent your gold
Drunk all night and you were told
The Murphy girls have brothers ninefold...
So, have you an inkling this mornin'?
Don't say you had no warnin'!
Gee those Murphy girls sure are pretty
But now your listening to this "told ya so" ditty
Got a bit fresh and way too giddy...
So now your hurting this mornin'
At least last night wasn't boring!
So next year's the same when put'n on the green
Remember the date it's March Seventeen
Kathleen, Maureen, Colleen do preen...
Just to count your gold in the mornin'
So don't be a leprechaun hornin'
Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 1:40 PM UTC
Before that August--
(strange month echo)--
bloomed in the east
sunrise bomb sunset dawn
you sometimes
rose
(unbidden)
to the surface
of my mind.
These were some of my triggers:
Calgary (always Calgary)
me too
Christmastime.
And all the times you attempted
to reach out to me
(sucker punch sleep ****
And then that August--
(good mornin' bombshell)
the news--
for shame.
For I had fallen for the lie
(while you talked all the while
in your human voice).
So you like 'em young.
So you like it rough.
August sun beat me down.
It took this glaring
of a light
to show me
the darkest of men's natures--
and that I knew them
intimately.
May 18, 2021
May 18, 2021 at 7:55 PM UTC
COME round me, little childer;
There, don't fling stones at me
Because I mutter as I go;
But pity Moll Magee.
My man was a poor fisher
With shore lines in the say;
My work was saltin' herrings
The whole of the long day.
And sometimes from the Saltin' shed
I scarce could drag my feet,
Under the blessed moonlight,
Along thc pebbly street.
I'd always been but weakly,
And my baby was just born;
A neighbour minded her by day,
I minded her till morn.
I lay upon my baby;
Ye little childer dear,
I looked on my cold baby
When the morn grew frosty and clear.
A weary woman sleeps so hard!
My man grew red and pale,
And gave me money, and bade me go
To my own place, Kinsale.
He drove me out and shut the door.
And gave his curse to me;
I went away in silence,
No neighbour could I see.
The windows and the doors were shut,
One star shone faint and green,
The little straws were turnin round
Across the bare boreen.
I went away in silence:
Beyond old Martin's byre
I saw a kindly neighbour
Blowin' her mornin' fire.
She drew from me my story --
My money's all used up,
And still, with pityin', scornin' eye,
She gives me bite and sup.
She says my man will surely come
And fetch me home agin;
But always, as I'm movin' round,
Without doors or within,
Pilin' the wood or pilin' the turf,
Or goin' to the well,
I'm thinkin' of my baby
And keenin' to mysel'.
And Sometimes I am sure she knows
When, openin' wide His door,
God lights the stats, His candles,
And looks upon the poor.
So now, ye little childer,
Ye won't fling stones at me;
But gather with your shinin' looks
And pity Moll Magee.
2.3k
Mornin', gentlemen!
Mornin'! The best time of day
To go **** yourself
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 8:43 AM UTC
tizz is an uncle, bro and dem richez
i was born viciouz, but always had visionz
a young boy used to build bridgez
between black and white, peace and fight
dreamy adolescence, i spit out whole heavenz
wit my divine essence, all dem "lyricis" be jealouz
but dey just "so called", cause dey so old
tizz grew cold, so not any of dem amateurs won't grow old
i'm so cold, i freeze, **** and stay, then i eaze among dem geez
we live in codez like secret service, dealin' wit burnaz
quick learnaz, sick and sane, our skin is thick,
we don't feel pain, black lion's mane, heaven yeah
no expression can illustrate tizzopish aggression
pay attention! watch out for dat other direction
receive my blessin', kneein' between me and the destined
it's battle rappin', it's slappin' againzt all of ya actin'
friendship versuz rush, some peepz start to blush
when you remind them of valuez, like some bad newz
i'm the man whose bad moodz be legendary, like a legionary
dealin' wit whatz necessary, cause i was born predatory
find tizz shinin' in the mornin' glory and rhymin' a story
readin' diz is mandatory, just anotha category,
stolen from the laboratory, **** am i now swollen,
and all-in like all-night, alright, feed em just a small bite
Nov 7, 2020
Nov 7, 2020 at 8:13 AM UTC
I'm Somehow Seein' Your Face,
when I close my eyes...
I'm Somehow Seein' Your Face,
as I'm starin' into
the brightness of a new day...
I'm Somehow Seein' Your Face,
as I'm gazin' into
the darkness of a new night...
I've been askin' myself why-
still I'm not sure if
I'm gettin' any answers!
We've only met once-
face to face, several months ago.
But, since then, we've spent
many hours a night;
talkin' into the early mornin';
buildin' our friendship!
As I'm listenin' to your voice
while we are talkin'
or you are singin' to me-
I'm realizin' its effectin' me
in different ways-
it soothes and calms me;
yet, energizes and awakens me!
When we can't talk-
I feel this loneliness
that I can't explain-
and there's so much I'm wantin' to say!
Then knowin' when we can again-
I feel this anxiousness,
almost over-takin' me!
And an odd-sense of happiness
practically consumes me!
Which is confusin' me...
Cause I'm not sure of what I'm feelin'
or if I'm feelin' more than what
I'm admittin' to myself...
But I'm seekin' answers-
I'm wonderin' over and over again,
if I'm tryin' to deny somethin'
that I shouldn't be...
And if you are maybe doin' the same...
I think I'm feelin' more here happenin'
than just friendship;
as if we've got this connection,
somewhere along the way!
Is there somethin' more
than what we yet to admit or know...
All I know, as of yet-
I'm Somehow Seein' Your Face,
when I close my eyes...
2008
COPYRIGHT; Sabrina Denise Healey,
~Angelmom~
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 10:34 PM UTC
wakin in the mornin feelin weak
afraid to sail
afraid to
"sink or swim"
afraid of the karma
of the water
walkin roads amid all the signs
afraid to live
afraid to die
afraid of the
true sons
(the warriors)
we tell eachother such stories
filled with horror
we tell eachother false tales
of love
afraid of the
holy ******
daughter
well well
here we are
nothin is what we got
nowhere's
the name of the place
afraid to live
afraid to die
afraid of the karma
we see in our face
in the mirror
wakin in the mornin feelin weak
afraid to sail
afraid to
"sink or swim"
afraid of the karma
of the water
wakin in the mornin feelin weak
afraid to sail
afraid to
"sink or swim"
afraid of the karma
of the water
Sep 24, 2010
Sep 24, 2010 at 1:06 PM UTC