"perked" poems
Based on a painting, "Nuclear Puppies", by Julie Nagel, 2001
You’re a mutant, you know—
got funny dog babies sprouting
out of your head like they were
ears. Those copies of your face
look up at a sky of ashy gray,
perked and tense. Are you listening
to yourself? What choir
of dog-eared deformities
sings to you? Maybe they should have
howled louder before we dropped The Bomb.
Maybe the yellow caterwaul of their
melting butter bodies would have stayed our hand.
I doubt it though.
This is what we do. We burn things.
We tinker, adding and subtracting until
what’s left is blasphemy—until what’s left is
you. A yellow almost-dog, a sagging
body with melted flesh where there should
be fur. Sad monster; beg your alms
from the atomic Frankensteins who made you.
Your skyward eyes are bright, still happy
anywhere but here. But your abominable
body lies here staring into gray space with
Alpo still sticky on your nose, wet, brown snow.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 12:11 AM UTC
A simple cafe
The woman with the latte
I see her
Those peach pink lips
Your jeans fadded blue
Blonde curly hair
Skin so fair
Oh the things I would do
Across the room
Her Carmel colored skin
Brown long hair
Breast perked so
Coke bottled body
And you
Oval shaped eyes
Sun kissed freckles
so fun sized
Burgundy bleached hair
Suckulant grape lips
Thick curved waist
Coffee hazeled eyes
Eyes....
She pierced my sight
I glanced back
She knows I'm looking
My deviant thoughts
Tension rises
Three seconds four and five
I break contact I head to the door
Stumble
******
She's at the door
Our bodys touch
"Hey do you dance"
I so dance
Respond
"Yeah I do"
" well you should meet my boyfriend
He does to"
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 5:46 AM UTC
What I'm imagining isn't considered pretty
You don't want to know where you're sitting
What I'm imagining isn't considered pleasant
We're inappropriately using a pheasant
What I'm imagining doesn't go with God
And is laughed at because it's odd
Into my life they peer
Trying to insert fear
My owl head on a swivel
My rabbit ears perked
When people don't act civil
And decency is shirked
I needed answers
For my cancer
I find them in love and pain
They both seem the same
I begin to view the rain
As a type of gain
Everyone knows love's scorn
Which leaves me torn
I can't help but feel my situation differs
Something about the rejection seems stiffer
So I become a shapeshifter
To avoid the hate gifters
To avoid bearing the shame
Of being called names
I know other people have it worse
Sometimes that feels like a curse
I can't gauge the importance of major events
In my life
I don't know whether to think they're intense
Or just right
Maybe I'm just being dramatic
But these instances aren't sporadic
When those that I love
Push and shove
I start to wonder if I'm broken or stained
Until I realize we're all burnt by love's flames
We all have a path to travel
And they're all made of gravel
Our feet become sore
Which affects our core
We find people below us on the totem pole
To know how it feels to treat someone cold
For when our enthusiasm for love has faded
It's easy to become jaded
There are things we're ashamed of
That morph us into something unrecognizable
In which we should be truly ashamed
In the mirror we look the same
But our actions are toxic
We become radioactive
We see where our stock sits
And become merely reactive
And it's hard to find grace
After being punched in the face
But one must remember punches come in all forms
And we must not punch back to survive the storm
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 5:42 AM UTC
A raven flew along, it was a cold winter day.
The black bird soon spotted a struggling bird on the ground and quickly landed nearby.
The raven greeted the fearful animal.
A small, shaking finch responded.
"Oh Raven, you must help me. For I am so alone and I cannot find my way. I will never live through this winter"
Clearly the find was in distress.
Sighing, the raven quickly looked around.
"I will aid you to be stronger, but you must promise me one thing."
The finch perked up, as the raven responded, "you can't give up."
So the birds took to the trees and the raven taught the finch how to fly. For the first step to anything is how to get back to your wings.
Then they went to the grass, and pecked for worms. The raven taught the finch that at times, it is okay to let your guard down, you are safe with other birds around.
And finally, how to make a home. A nest for the winter. They gathered all the twigs together, but the finch grew tired.
"Raven. I must rest."
"No finch, there is no resting until you build your foundation. You must continue."
"But I am tired."
"It does not matter. If you give up now, you will give up all." The raven handed the finch even more twigs.
The finch groaned, but painfully continued.
And they built the most beautiful nest.
In the nest the finch had both comfort, and sustainability.
"Raven, thank you. I now have the tools to be a strong bird. I can now, survive the winter."
"Finch. All you must do for me now, is never give up."
And with that, the raven flew away, in search of others to help.
Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 9:52 PM UTC
I'm a simple electron.
And, although I have my quarks,
It's usually a persona I don,
Pretending I enjoy meaningless talks.
See, I was once in a pair,
With a fellow electron.
And, although it was difficult to bear,
The laws of physics ultimately won.
The closer we got,
The more we repelled.
When she was ionised, it hurt a lot,
She left, regardless of how much I held.
She soon paired with another,
Leaving me to start a bond.
It was my emotions I tried to smother,
Of myself, I was certainly not fond.
For a while my thoughts were scattered,
My emotions being forced up and down.
But none of that really mattered,
As I soon met another who would invert my frown.
You see, she was a blinding photon,
And when we met, she certainly did excite me...
And, just like my friend the boson,
I hope you don't take this lightly.
She perked me up a couple of energy levels,
Until she pulled me out of my shell.
Now, together, we're quantum rebels,
I'm a simple electron, and this is the story I tell.
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 1:49 AM UTC
*The woodpecker wouldn't reveal,
the secret kept closer to her chest,
but the telegraphic messages
meant nothing else I gather it thus:
"Don't you give up midway
slog, till you are fully satisfied,
that you've reached there
where, what you are searching is found"
In wooden notes, she proclaimed thus,
goes on pecking making,
the noise louder and louder,
it's now more and more clear-
that in standards she'd never compromise,
never would she lower her esteem
even if her sense of urgency sometimes
creates some discordant notes
that she accepts as her fault
and keeps her ears perked up for tone and tenor.*
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 6:19 AM UTC
When we met,
you made my heart wet.
Like morning dew of hope,
from Heaven, chemistry crept,
with hope and regret
of everything you may
and may not get.
Your faculties tasted me
in anticipation...
How my eyes' light
might look in your bed,
how my words ringing
swam in your head.
You perked me up like sweet grass,
onto my taste buds you bled.
Our souls danced
and sang in embrace.
When we parted they said,
Well if that's that,
mission accomplished.
Whether covert or conscious,
whether or not
she even calls him,
we have loved once again.
Less a natural reaction,
more an inexplicable combustion.
From that day on it was destined,
from admiration swapped and accepted,
We could never return
to who we'd been.
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 10:03 PM UTC
I don’t like cauliflower so I will feed all mine to friends
moving black specks, fruit flies on vegetables
confused
killing their dinner with cyanide
like sticks of cinnamon or garlic cubes
I hand it to bugs with my long second toe
that is supposed to mean I am a genius, but I don’t eat
cauliflower broccoli anything leafy and I am missing fish oil
from my diet
confused
I whisper into the fruit flies’ elf ears
perked up as dog eyes escape their sockets sometimes
Dogs do not eat cauliflower either or hummus
they are not even confused
Morning, we all see the same shape of the moon’s goneness
but others will eat bread despite mold
I wonder if I am one
and what have I done to the economy by disliking
cauliflower broccoli anything leafy and fish oil, as well.
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 6:32 PM UTC
As I close my laptop
and it snaps shut
my dog sits up
ears perked,
chest puffed, and
at the ready for
me to stand up
and grab a leash
and a plastic bag
for his ****
And he knows this routine
because it has been seared
into his brain with the white-hot
branding iron
of repetition.
A force of nature.
A category-five hurricane.
We laugh at them
for chasing their tails
when the microwave dings,
for salivating at bells,
but
I am no better than they are.
The same routines
are seared into my brain, too—
stimulus, response
stimulus, response
eat, sleep, **** walk, ****
love, reproduce, etc.
and I will continue to do so
aimlessly
just like Ivan Pavlov said I would.
One day I’ll find myself
like he’ll find himself—
lying on a cold slab
in a sterile room
only half alive
aghast at how quickly youth slipped away
but otherwise numb
as loved ones circle around,
hands over their mouths,
horrified
to press the button.
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 2:38 AM UTC
I never said you’d done it
though we both know that you had
the way you choose to think of me
so often leaves me sad’
I don’t know how I’ve hurt you
I never meant to charm
perhaps my easy-going ways
just cause you too much harm.
But we were drifting slowly
and then you suddenly perked up
the way a person might do
when they've found a more full cup.
But I never said you’d done it
I’d know that I had lost
and now you don’t believe me
and that’s too great a cost.
©Joe Wilson – Accuser accused 2014
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 5:43 PM UTC
Leashed by loves lynch till I’m dropped by my lack of respect for the beauty’s presence
Thank god she wasn’t curbside taking tips with perked lips for a stranger’s ****** fix,
But I needed to feel the evidence that the pieces fit,
That’s why this is about me and a barstool princess
Getting close enough to taste the moans of vodka’s venom
Get close enough so I can know my needs can be fulfilled
Like a lunar eclipse this species keeps grinding its teeth when teased
Time and time again we’ve been taunted by,
The mistress our ancestors once described as the serpent of Eve,
When procreation was preached as an STD
Yet we’ve been perpetually pivoting,
To defy the chastity of a species
Grandfathered misconceptions relating to why you and I exist
As wickedness warms in the covers of the lustfully parallel
So let’s drown in this bliss,
From head to toe, eye caught, grazes at the nose,
From the bar stool to a lonely man’s home,
From one dollar tips for two *** and cokes
To the bedroom of this writing,
The nights like this, that remind me I am alone
But this isn’t about me loathing the fact that I won’t hear her whispering for more body warmth,
Nor am I looking for you to pity me because I’ll be sleeping solo
Enough is enough since we are humans seeking ****** catacombs
I’ll try to be an adult about how the human molds but it started me at childhood,
When those that conceptualized love gave me this world,
And now I no longer have to listen to what I’ve been told
This is about how to perceive something we can never truly control,
Lucky enough to avoid a contraceptive despite unable to remember the doctor’s pull,
Its night’s like this I get to question,
When will my sheets meet the perfect fit?
When will this be more than just a humanizing fix?
Apr 23, 2012
Apr 23, 2012 at 12:41 AM UTC
Sitting in her wheelchair,
Wondering what to wear,
Natalie, the Notorious,
Found her situation nothing short of inglorious.
Absorbent or plain, it didn't seem to matter,
Until, down the hall, she heard Nurse Agnes' chatter.
Her ears perked up, as did her head.
Glinting eyes showed much to dread.
Natalie said with all due sobriety,
"Here goes the plan in all its entirety."
She gave herself a wink, and tossed back a mickey,
Choosing her time, being quite picky.
Natalie searched out that sanctimonious nurse,
And giving vent to her rage, she let out a curse.
She flew from her chair, and let out a yell.
Frightened Nurse Agnes, in fear she did quell.
But Natalie's plan, to take the nurse down,
Fell quite flat, when she hit the ground.
Poor Natalie had totally forgotten,
The chairbelts kept her in, "Oh, how rotten!"
They snapped her back and she hit the floor.
The ice pick she had, flew into the door.
Really now, it's sad to say,
that Natalie the Notorious to this day,
Avoids plots of ice picks and death,
And focuses mostly on keeping her breath.
Jan 28, 2011
Jan 28, 2011 at 5:18 PM UTC
Thick dirt matted fur, A warning snarl from between razor sharp teeth, Head lowered to the forest floor, littered with brown leaves, and fallen branches, eyes glowing with a beckoning challenge, hair raised, ears perked, senses alert,
This wolf will not back down, a threat obvious,
As the hunter points the gun at the snarling snapping wolf, hiding behind his man made power, but tonight this hunter will fall, and will not rise again, from behind, the wolfs mate emerges from the foliage, teeth exposed and a determined sway in her pursuit, with a hurried lunge, the hunter swirls, a bang in the nights air,
A gurgled scream, a agony filled howl,
The wolfs mate lay twitching, holding onto her last few breaths, muzzle to muzzle, they lay together,
An alpha and his dying female,
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 11:22 PM UTC
The glowing jacinth sun was just beginning its descent,
casting long, flittering shadows on horse and rider alike.
Although the horse was young, he walked
with an air of importance,
like a racer entering the track.
As the playful breeze rustled the viridian leaves,
his muscles tensed.
He perked up like a toy soldier,
watching the purpling sky with wary eyes,
the amaranthine clouds reflected in those deep sable orbs.
As he trotted about like a fairy,
his russet coat shone vibrantly in the setting sun,
a body of twinkling rubies set in amber.
The sprite padded softly on the ground
with the delicate nature of a hummingbird,
he had a stride like a river of sweet milk and honey.
The chestnut dreamer skipped across the ground
like notes across a page,
his song light and airy.
he tiptoed and pirouetted,
his three pearly stockings dancing
like the melodious keys of a piano.
Her cinnabar savior bounded over the fences
like a prancing stag,
and his dainty ears pricked forward
as his chocolate-brown eyes fixed on the obstacle ahead.
As he jumped, he lit up with a bravery
that could have been felt all throughout the arena.
Had the two not been alone,
the entrancing sight would have been easily able to charm his way
into the hearts of even the stoniest of onlookers.
With a gleeful snort,
the sunny gelding seemed to fill the air
with good-natured laughter.
The rider reached down to give him a pat,
and he brightened at her touch,
the pet like a kiss on his glossy ginger neck.
And as the last of the daylight filtered away
into the velvety mazarine sky,
his neck stretched down and his walk slowed.
Satisfied with their ride, the two made their way back inside,
surrounding by the growing darkness.
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 9:42 AM UTC
Mommys a glorified ******
With her 50 some year old married boyfriend
Favorite aunt is a stripper
Used to walk in on her shows
Daddy's a drug pusher
Gave me my fist high at 12
Granny's a kleptomaniac
Must be where I get it from
And it don't stop there
The show goes on
Drug addicts galore
To add plenty of drama
Then there's the snitch branch
Well to do Christians
My biological grandfather
Who says 14 is too old for his tastes
Plenty of violence
To keep things perked up
And everyone on their toes
Welcome, my friends, to the freak show.
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 8:41 PM UTC
The room was clouded with wisps of smoke, the smell of cheep tobacco mixing with the foul fetter of Budweiser's.
Heavy boots crowded the compact living room, some pacing on the floor, others resting on stools, and one certain pair standing on the couch. As the evening waned, their owners smoked and drank and composed.
The fan droned on above the huddle of men, attempting to counter-act the thick, humid air and suffocating clouds of smoke.
Likewise, the window hung open, a slight breeze entering in, attempting to remind the men that outside there was spring. However, not even the sweet smell of growing grass and greening pine trees could awaken the thinking mass of musicians.
Under the soft whirring of the fan hummed a gentle strum of acoustic guitars, two were in sync, one was free to do what he pleased.
At first the song was melancholy, an almost sickening minor protruding through the chords.
However, the two guitars which played this mournful tune were soon over-ruled by the lone guitar, this guitar introducing an almost ****** tune, sweet with lively colors, walks in the park; moody with aromatic evenings spent in wild-flower fields and peaceful nights sitting by the river, fishing and playing Texas Hold'em for pennies.
This strum of chords soon awakened the other musicians and as their ears perked up to the sound their eyes fell upon the man, the man with the boots that stood on the couch.
As the groups' gaze circled onto the man, he finished with a lulling C sharp minor and pulled the smoldering cigarette from his mouth, cocking his head towards the men and smirking ever so slightly as he proclaimed in his proud, deep, southern accent, an eyebrow raising to mark their heedfulness, "And there, gentlemen, is true music."
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 12:02 PM UTC
Poignant prose chucked out and recycled by morning.
Turned out trick repeated til boring.
The local band just started touring.
Sonnet's blasted until the ladies are 'whooring'.
...
Roxy Music dropped David Byrne.
For Ellie Goulding and a remix of burn.
Robert Johnson's been reworked.
Ratatat rap as interest is perked.
Dylan picked up the silent game.
Making ambient noises which all sound the same.
The Rolling Stones joined the church.
After buying some of Hoosier's merch.
Nicki Minaj claps her ****
Laying down a tribute for Terry Fox's stump.
Benefit concert soon to be run.
By the played out Glee Club composing Fun.
Beach Boys dragged in with the tide.
...And Stars Collide.
NOFX has gone clean
Fat Mike's gone and become a dean.
Tom Waits stomps out to Kendrick Lamar.
Hacking up bits of blunt induced tar.
Bumping out in Steve Ellison's car.
To Captain Murphy's karaoke bootlegged from a bar.
...
Less than 10 good tapes a year
Even fewer if referring to those others actually hear.
Jack White's gone third eye blind
Getting over run by his drug free mind.
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 2:39 PM UTC
Our home was soft corners, diaphanous shadows,
A ghost-home tamarind tree of dark midnights
That used to shed many tiny leaves and bird-twigs,
A well deep in darkness and shrieking night crickets,
A wet coconut rope slithering on its stone rim.
The water shivered on its perked up surface
At the dark touch of the dimpled metal pail.
The pail got pulled up quickly spilling water
To the banana which squealed with green joy.
The thorny fence wound its way in the moonlight
Quietly disappearing in the hillock without trace.
Jul 15, 2010
Jul 15, 2010 at 3:37 AM UTC
The Dog
I found him, outside the basketball court
Sunday morning.
His golden coat seemed soft like
A Patagonia in dead winter, like
a blanket over your legs when the summer breeze hits.
I found him outside the basketball court
Sunday morning,
He came up to me with curious eyes; like
A child in a candy store, like
Detectives, always curious, like
staring at the phone waiting for your mother to reply
Curious.
I found him outside the basketball court
Sunday morning,
His gold tail hiding between his legs, ears perked like
when the caffeine finally kicks in, like
recognizing your best friend in the hallway, like
the addition of red roses to a bouquet, like
her ******* when the water is cold
I found him outside the basketball court
Sunday morning,
His fur was matted, his body emaciated like
The body of an anorexic, like
A child rotting from leukemia,
No longer soft, like a Patagonia.
So I covered him with a blanket,
His eyes fearful, not curious but wet
Like his nose hitting my arm, like
Carrying him in my arms, soft
Even in chilly November;
light as a feather.
Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 9:55 PM UTC
Sitting in that bar, with you,
two single ladies on the prowl,
we fell for the same guy,
a **** long-haired Adonis
and we flirted with him shamelessly
until finally you turned to me and whispered
shall we take him home with us?
And so we did...
In moonshadows, we undressed him
together, and then I undressed you,
watched those two lovely ******* descend
from their cage, watched your eyes widen
with lust and amazement, the shudder
of your thighs as I slipped your ******* down
and knelt before you to press my lips
against your soft mound, lapping at your nectar.
When the soft ******** sigh released from your lips,
I turned to the Adonis and offered you to him,
watched as he lifted you in his strong arms
and lowered you onto his throbbing ****
You beckoned for me to join you
and I couldn't resist your charm.
As he gently laid you down on the couch,
your legs spread into the air,
his body slamming into you, I ****** gently
on your ripe perked *******
When his body shuddered into ******
and he withdrew, I slid down to the floor
pressed my lips against your netherlips
and drank of your sweet nectar mingled with his.
Feb 9, 2010
Feb 9, 2010 at 7:26 AM UTC
Stately stone mountain's pride,
steep granite peak, seat of vultures,
single lush tree uniquely shaped by winds,
stand atop like a mysterious symbol,
big, round, purple sun, in poetic candor,
like enlightenment, rises behind it;
a sight words can't contain.
Far far down,
in the middle of the grappling green,
the blue jewel, a lake in meditation,
hidden in the thickets, hanging down
in to the water plane, cunning eyes
in hundreds, of black-spotted wild alligators.
A doe and her fawn,
stand at the edge of the lake, driven by thirst,
her both ears perked up listening,
before stepping in to the water to see,
if everything is in order.
Nature, mother kindness
stand guard to all her children,
non interfering,
what now will happen
depends upon laws
governed by karma,
decided by the action that triggered
the sequence, long back
and not easy to discern.
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 1:18 PM UTC
you rise before the morning does, watch the black
sky go gray through the shower curtain
lacy shadows cast on summer-night skin
not ready to awaken, blue eyes half-mast to
squint away the fluorescent intrusion as your
mother butters toast for you that you leave behind,
your stomach sleeping too.
yawning, you thank god that the possums are
exercising better judgment as you hold
the wheel at eight and four, shake your knees
at every stoplight, sing billy joel top-volume
to stay alert while the clouds go pink and gold.
you join the real-world almost right away,
asleep before you hit the tracks at westport
tickets tickets tickets grabs your ear, but only just.
your coffee cools in its thermos, forgotten in the
new haven line haze, your nerves all perked up
fighting with the fog between your ears. your nerves
all perked up. your nerves all perked up. you try to
kick the fog to no avail. you all but sleepwalk
down the platform, you barely watch the gap.
hey, wouldn’t it be crazy if he came your dream-voice
whispers to your conscious yes it would be crazy your
conscious chuckles at the thought.
you trip on the overweight businessman’s pennyloafer
and you think how much you need to *** and you toss
your cold bagel in the all aboard trash can and you
think about how crazy you would be to hope to see him
and you hope your backpack isn’t slowing traffic too
much and your nerves all perked up your nerves all
perked up and you shake away the fog one last time and
you get to the end of the long hot platform and you—
hey wouldn’t it be crazy if but yes he’s
there and yes you
don’t know
what to
say but
yes your
eyes wide yes
mouth open
yes you don’t
know what
to say but
*hi,
I love you,
yes*
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 9:41 PM UTC
The hesitant shadow
of a melancholy poet,
while walking on it's
wobbly undefined legs,
result of light losing to darkness,
speaks to the alert poetic self,
listening with perked up ears,
in a strange dialect of darkness
about 'being in nothingness'
Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 9:55 AM UTC
Secretly?Tall=Tower-fee lucky
777 "I'm Free"-Flowery + $$$
Being Oz-wizardly
Toto lucky bite red slipper
((Cowardly)) Lionly
-Whoa__ She got that Geisha Irony
This is Tokyo
Not the flower shop of Soho
(( Japan Chefs Black Panthers))
Shout box____
Unique flowers of
faces-gather
Too outfox____
One Geisha Flowery room
Twilight-places lightly bloom
Overpowering
Sunflower showering
Going nowhere
Her body heat
Is always
somewhere
Over flowered the rainbow
magic women
romantically spritz and spray
Love me love me not
I am waiting today
Flowered over one
Man?
Her Fortune-beds
The Geishas fine ink
Never pink
The best time to arrive
See her lucky red
((Geisha Flowery))
* * * *
Happy go lucky
Not the back rub
The gift of gab
Time feast Rolex
her index finger
Webs of flower cut
Debs
Was the cover-up
The best of the last
defeat of her
She Petals faster
The zipper-movie cut
Go zip
Irish spring shower
Boysenberry, Cherry, Power
Geisha dance flowery-trick
The vanilla-bean sky quick
The yogurt Greece fly
Her tablecloths
He finger
points cactus sharp points
The climate tells the
clues can you handle tricks
Crazzzzy____
glue
Softly silk skirt steak
Missed a few buds
((Geisha Flowery funds))
Tantalizing tiara pull
Off gave it to the
flower girl china doll
The music
Black Magic
women
Her sheer blouse
loosely fit his fancy
Playing Santana
Sitting with her
tea tiger lily
Felt so lonely
The champagne
half-heartedly
The whole Monet
Chandon
shirts
of Gucci
She's perked me
up Pucci *******
coo
Danger me dandelions
The next recruit
black rose pin
pursuit hungry like
wolf
Duran Duran
The discovery of
custard flan
The Geisha flowery
New York State
Who snitched out
her spouse
Flowers divinity Godly lands
I gotcha
Right in the palm
of my hands
Jun 4, 2018
Jun 4, 2018 at 12:29 PM UTC