"quinn" poems
In pubs with bar flies.
Kronenburg, Becks, Carling, Stella Artois and Fosters,
Dancing in our blood,
Utterly inured; we are endured by all:
The solipsism most profound.
And when Johnnie, Jack and Jameson join,
The sentimental and the morbid
Are conjoined.
And ****
In the custody of beer halls,
The shadows that draw, fade,
And calls – e’en Death’s! -- are put on hold!
No time; instead, before the last, another pint.
For in this hallowed inn,
Drinking what’s in the glass,
And espousing the glow within,
Cares regress.
No woes,
Or loaded psyches,
For when the pressure builds,
The best: a jet of yellow bliss,
Relieves the pain,
On Armitage Shanks' porcelain.
Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 6:50 PM UTC
You should have been the soul that Edgar Allen Poe loved,
So that he wouldn't have died miserable and alone,
You are the Morticia to my Gomez; deadly in love,
We would make a quirky Addams family, bar none,
I love the nerds in us and the banter of annoyance,
I love the moments of radiant love and our nature of being different,
'Cause we did meet exceptionally over persistence,
And we accept each other regardless of difference,
I wish that our love will remain eternal,
Narrated by Obi-Wan,
With a theme song by John Williams,
Directed by Lucas, nah, we don't need direction,
I do know, we need a Queen, and that's you my puddin'!
Leia to my Solo,
A Queen-B-lovin'-Quinn to my Joker,
A die-hard Drake lover with a heart for the Dark Side,
This Vader loves his Amidala, xoxoxo,
We would revel on any side but the holy!
May this love never fade, and be full of surprises,
But not the kind where there is nasi lemak with no ikan bilis!
But you make the best **** nasi lemak, sigh,
I'm forever grateful for my Babloo
I'm forever grateful that you're by my side,
My Annabel Lee, I'm grateful Poe never met you,
'Cause you're all mine!
Feb 13, 2017
Feb 13, 2017 at 9:35 PM UTC
"Face it," she said. "You're in love with a psychotic clown."
But what with a face that's not a frown?
While she sits him upon a throne and hands him a crown.
Only his deep spirits could bring her down.
Upon his face sets a wide grin
His true hearts malice lies deep within.
A love like this must be a sin
The love of the Joker and his Harley Quinn. ♥
(And don't call me puddin' )
Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 11:43 AM UTC
'you've felt it, haven't you? those feelings that seem to get so big in your chest, like something is so beautiful it aches.' - Heather Anastasiu
'you have a place in my heart no one else ever could have.' - F. Scott Fitzgerald
'i knew he didn't love me, but i adored him anyway.' - Patti Smith
'i like people with depth, i like people with emotion, i like people with a strong mind, an interesting mind, a twisted mind, and also people that can make me smile.' - Abbey Lee Kershaw
'most days i wish i never met you because then i could sleep at night and i wouldn't have to walk around with the knowledge there was someone like you out there.' - Good Will Hunting
'i have a million things to talk to you about. all i want in this world is you. i want to see you and talk. i want the two of us to begin everything from the beginning.' -Haruki Murakami
'i love you in that crazy, stupid, i want to rip your throat out and kiss you at the same time love.
that love where it's so overwhelming i hate you for making me feel so vulnerable.
that love that takes over your mind and i end up thinking about you so much i drive myself into complete and utter insanity.
that love which where i put my heart on my sleeve, took everything you could throw at me and still loved you with the little pieces you left.
the love that i'll tell my kids about, the 'what if' kind of love, the one i'll never forget.
the love of my life.
that's the way i love you.' - Chippylou
'i am holding your name
underneath my tongue
in case you ask me
to make my favorite
sound.' - Stolenwine
'i need to rip your
name off my tongue;
it no longer taste
sweet. - a.w.k.jones
'i keep thinking you already know. i keep thinking i've sent you letters that were only ever written in my mind.' - Iain Thomas
'i guess what scares me the most is knowing that at any moment, you could rip my heart out of my chest, tear it into pieces, throw it on the ground and stomp all over it. and that i'd just pick it up and hand it back to you.'
'i romanticized you
to the point where
the knives you pressed
into my skin
began to look
like cupid's arrows.'
'i'll never be busy enough to not miss you.' - m.k
'i never really liked
my name
much
until i found out
what it tastes like
when you sigh it
into my
mouth'.
'i have tried to let you go and i cannot. i cannot stop thinking of you. i cannot stop dreaming about you.' - Erin Morgenstern, The Night Circus
'your heart and my heart are very, very old friends.' - Hafiz, Persian poet, "Your Mother and My Mother"
'she hated that she was still so desperate for a glimpse of him, but it had been this way for years.' - Julia Quinn
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 3:47 AM UTC
What we have is nuts, crazy, mad
But it's just that
I like to laugh instead of being sad
I like to giggle so people know I'm not that bad
Mr.J knows that
He gets what they don't
He sees what they wouldn't
When I'm with him I feel warm
Not alone
I'm damaged but so is he
I find it hard to manage
But not with him
You see?
Do you see he just gets me?
My 'Puddin makes me happy
Even tho I'm the baddest bady
We're meant to be
Sometime we paint white roses red
Each shade from a different person head
Don't look at me
Or you'll lay in your dead bed
Don't dream
Dream is a killer sometimes we get drunk with a blue caterpillar
He's peeling the skin of my face
Cause I really hate being safe
The normals they make me afraid
The crazies they make me feels safe
I'm nuts baby I'm mad
The craziest friend that you ever had
You think I'm ******
You think I'm gone
Tell the psychiatrist something is wrong
Over the bend entirely bonkers
He likes me best when I'm of my rocker
Tell you a secret I'm not alarmed
So what if I'm crazy... all the best people are
He thinks I'm crazy
He thinks I'm gone
I think he's crazy to
I know he's gone
That's probably the reason that we get along
Dec 3, 2016
Dec 3, 2016 at 5:11 AM UTC
It’s okay….
I'm just tired.
T-Torn
I-Insecure
R-Ruined
E-Emotional
D-Depressed
No amount of sleep can get rid of the tiredness I feel.
I’m really happy.
H-Hiding
A-Anxious
P-Pretending
P-Pained
Y-Yearning
My smiles are faker than the popular kids
When people try to ask what’s wrong and I tell them, it makes me feel selfish.
S-Self centered
E-Emotional
L-Low
F-Fake
I-Intolerant
S-Shameful
H-Horrible
All my friends look so perfect in my eyes
E-Encouraging
M-Marvelous
M-Magnificent
A-Astonishing
Emma
Q-Quirky
U-Unique
I-Incredible
N-Nice
N-Neat
Quinn
M-Magical
E-Extraordinary
L-Loving
E-Exceptional
Mele
L-Loyal
E-Empathetic
A-Amazing
R-Radiant
S-Supportive
I-Inspiring
And Learsi
I want to be as selfless and amazing as them but this thing inside my head says I’m not good enough to be.
J-Jealous
O-Obnoxious
C-Clumsy
E-Exhausting
L-Liar
Y-Yielding
N-Nuisance
These are more than just words.
j.b
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 2:26 PM UTC
Christina Quinn
has made Quality condoms
a focal point of her campaign.
That Anthony ******
he of modest demeanor,
would be happy to model t'is plain.
As a Lesbian, Quinn
doesn't care for what's in
The condoms she touts on campaign.
If abstinence matters
put her face on the wrappers
and no one will be glad that they came.
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 7:09 AM UTC
In my "Thought for the Day XLIII" (43), I spoke of poets that have been with me, and supported me for quite some time. Sally and Pradip have been with me since my first posting, "1894", nearly two years ago, and I have "adopted" Vicki, Catherine, Ryn, Deborah, Pamela Rae,and others along the way. There is Quinn, Phil, Pradip, Francie, Frankie J, Mike, John, Nat, SE Reimer, Sverre, "The 'Ole Storyteller!" and,"Larry, Moe, and Curly Joe!"
Unfortunately, I cannot list everyone, in fear of overlooking writers who, collectively, mean so much to me. Please forgive me for that.
I will continue to "do my best" for all of the poets/writers/contributors to the HP site. I do not write for monetary remuneration, but for relaxation and recreation, with the end result, hopefully, bringing a smile to my peers. I thank all of you for allowing me to attempt, and occasionally, reach that goal.
Sincerely
Richard Riddle- June 03, 2015
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 9:35 AM UTC
Starting from the newest, these are my first fifty followers on Hello Poetry.
1. Hailey L May 5
2. Elizabeth Squires May 4
3. Tim Knight May 3
4. Morgan Hanchulak May 3
5. Vi Snicket May 2
6. Jessica Applegate Apr 30
7. Himanshu Koshe Apr 30
8. Mike Winegar Apr 29
9. Joey Lapiana Apr 29
10. Christopher Munro Apr 29
11. Raffi Kaftajian Apr 26
12. Shari Forman Apr 25
13. Jessica Who Apr 24
14. RedWritingHood Apr 22
15. Adreishka Moonlight Apr 21
16. Rocky G Apr 19
17. Sarina Apr 18
18. John Moffatt Apr 17
19. Izisfat Apr 9
20. Leila Apr 8
21. Marian Apr 5
22. Star Toucher64 Mar 30
23. Michelle Mar 26
24. Kristo Frost Mar 25
25. Ra Mar 20
26. Jacqueline Melissa Woolums Mar 15
27. ennyo Mar 11
28. Ellen Menzies Mar 9
29. Jodi Casavant Mar 8
30. Jillyan Adams Feb 20
31. Hailey Scomet Feb 2
32. Pete Taken Alive Jan 17
33. Md HUDA Jan 6
34. Joshua Ohmer Jan 1
35. Quinn Puwang Dec 30, 2012
36. Rissa Ann Dec 10, 2012
37. Hilda Dec 9, 2012
38. Rena Julleitta Dec 7, 2012
39. Emily Rose Williams Dec 7, 2012
40. Abdosh A Dec 5, 2012
41. Naveena Vijayan Dec 4, 2012
42. Kristian Alexander George Dec 1, 2012
43. Oliver Delgaram-Nejad Dec 1, 2012
44. Chessnie Lea Nov 27, 2012
45. Ugochukwu-Charles Onyewuchi Nov 25, 2012
46. Timothy Nov 24, 2012
47. Who Am I Nov 24, 2012
48. Matthew P Hill Nov 23, 2012
49. Tomas Nov 21, 2012
I gained inspirations for my poems from all my followers, those who I follow and especially my lovely little one who brought me here to Hello Poetry first, to a safe haven of like-minded people with a poetic niche each.
Thank you all.
First of all I thank you Eliot York for creating this wonderful poetry blog.
(-: And how can I ever thank you enough for introducing me to this wonderful website, just like Krishna guides Arjun in grand Mahabharata epic. You are my Krishna and I am your Arjun. :-)
(-: You share the place with Eliot York and the family of Timothy sir for inspiring my poems & helping me define my poetic style. As you are a kid for me, your heart is a crystal to me from where I can see the world more clearly in a different way. :-)
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 7:02 AM UTC
Batman in his belfry
Robin at the all you can eat buffet
Batgirl in my bedroom
things going, all my way
Riddler plying his prose
Gordon on patrol
Catwoman in my trousers
happily, loosing all control
Joker playing the saboteur
Penguin relaxing at the shore
Harley-quinn in my shower
as golly gee and will-a-curs
I can't ask for nothing more
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 10:15 PM UTC
*Hiya!
You wanna hurt Mistah J?
Sorry bozo but you'll have to go through me first
You'll never lay a finger on him
My name?
Not tellin' ya until you play my game
If ya win, then I'll tell you
If ya lose, lets say that there's going to be a mess
Mistah J is my puddin'
You wont ruin his fun
Not while I'm around
Sorry if I spoiled your fun
Guess you lost, but I'll tell you my name
My name is Harley Quinn*
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 2:04 PM UTC
THROUGH VERY SHORT TIMES OF SPACE.
The red door of No.16
North Frederick Street
slams behind him as he
enters into this newly minted
morning
sunshine so thick
one feels like a fish
swimming through it.
Sunlight spangles
a tiny puddle
turning it into a jewel
that only the eye can cherish.
Ahhhh "...the ineluctable
modality of the visible."
He turns right into Upper
Dorset Street
pulling an "Ahhh...howya!"
out of the man who makes the false
teeth!
Then turning left into
Eccles Street
giving the nod to No. 7
Bloom's house in ULYSSES.
Here in its run down state
though still shining in his fictionality.
Soon they will knock it
down and what will the tourists
do then
poor things.
Sure some bright spark
will rescue it from its rubble
and the door will live again
some streets away again.
Ahhh...." the ineluctable
modality of the visible."
I go to Quinn's gym
to get my Molly
( Philomena her name is )
a cottage cheese with pineapple
on a Weetabix base.
It is a 16th of June
somewhere in the 80's
as I retrace my own earlier
Joycean footsteps.
Rat-a-tat-tat on Bloom's door.
"Are ya there Leopold?"
But the bold Leopold
doesn't answer.
The 16th of
forever I am
"...walking through it
howsomever."
The sun smirks
as such Joyceisms.
"I am, a stride of a time.
A very short space of time
through very short times of space."
A horse and cart as if
from the past
saunters by
timelessly.
Ah "...the ineluctable
modality of the audible."
My Molly who is really
a Philomena
spoons the deliciousness
of the creamy dessert
into her
and yes she says
mmmm...yes....mmmm
Yes.
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 3:05 PM UTC
It’s a holiday weekend, all of the ‘fellows’ have Monday off.
At lunch Wednesday, Lisa said, “We need a throw-down.”
So, we made some invites and started spreading word around.
“You know, we all work hard enough, we need to get down!”
We asked for RSVPs, and got 43, for the effort, a decent payoff.
My sister’s apartment has a balcony and plenty of space.
We spent Saturday shopping and rearranging the place.
Early Sunday, we hid all the breakables and decorated,
As people settled in, things took off - as we’d anticipated.
I was surprised when I saw Quinn come in
I quietly turned to Lisa, mouthing, “Who invited him?”
The blush on her face, gave her instantly away,
“We couldn’t NOT invite him, we see him every day.”
More people were arriving, laughing and smiling, the party was thriving.
Everyone seemed to bring something, a bottle of Canadian goose,
a bucket of KFC, another of Popeyes, some glowing aurora jungle juice,
taco dip and chips, a Boston Creme pie and a cake with purple icing.
When you feel right, you let the music ignite you,
the beat seems to drive you, the vibe helps excite you,
the bass starts to thump and, well, you’re only young once,
you forget all your cares, for a delirium that’s shared.
In this ocean of joy, I saw a sad and reserved boy.
It was Quinn, in the corner, slouching on the couch.
a model of insecurity, watching the party self consciously,
I looked at Lisa, rolled my eyes, and said, “Why ME?”
I maneuvered over and took Quinn gently by the shoulders,
“Come ON, Quinn, you’re among friends, so embrace the funk,
these GIRLS wanna dance, give ‘em a chance, you’re not a monk!”
I pulled him to his feet, and dragged him over to Monique.
“Quinn, Monique - Monique, Quinn - let the dancing begin!”
By the end of the night Quinn was doing all right.
He has a quirky, awkward style, reconciled by a nice smile,
he’d danced with every girl, leaving them a little beguiled.
“Do it Quin, DO IT!” A girl, at one point, had laughed.
“Oh,” he’d said, gyrating in his herky-jerkily away, “It’s being DONE!”
Who could have known our stuffy, Harvard Quinn could be fun?!
Jun 19, 2023
Jun 19, 2023 at 9:02 PM UTC
It seems like these
Girls they got
These thing
Going
Right breaks
Lines
Like flowing
Thigh
Crushing us into points on a dot into internet bliss
****** by ****** ******* ******
Their. I's dotted miss. That no soul lies on the internet. It's not a bed to rest in.
It's a pit of battle. Boasting
In front of Ginsy
And Kowski
Don't just string words
Or you'll be like me trying to make the first *** shot on the world.
Grow a real root. Though it's hard. "I know" suburbia and such.
Calm down.
Don't ******* chive.
Grow a plant. Do something real.
Real guys are there. They are my friends. You don't have to be on this cite to make me feel cited. Just ask.
Go to English class and learn to hate poetry. Then re discover after you found out you're stupid. 'Cept you Quinn.
Then invent a new love.
It's you.
**** dudes.
Girls are so much more than Ginsberg ever said and less than Bukowski never did
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 12:29 AM UTC
You are my light
As well as my darkness
For you shine bright
And I venture in total blindness
Not knowing where to go
You guide my feet with a hurtful spike
As I step, only Pain I know
And my tortured scream you so much like
In winter's cold you kept me
In a hug so tight I gasped for air
But It doesn't matter to me
As long as I have you there
You kept me warm
With your freezing touch
A stinging burn on my arm
A frozen heart I loved so much
Your harsh words
Whipping me scars of hurt
They cut deep like driven swords
In where I wake and make them worth
In every scar I receive
In every bruise to me you give
I still cherish every pain on your shiv
With you by my side I'll forever live
For we are in harmony
Like the equal yin and yang
Our hearts singing a sorrowful melody
In where our hearts in thorns are strung
I am hopeless *********
Loving the pain and torture you provide
For you are a relentless sadist
In which your punishment is deliciously divine
For what might have been my inspiration
Inside my heart's totally hollow room
You are my Salvation
You are also my Doom
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 7:14 AM UTC
I hate to admit it but,
Maybe his time has come
Maybe he's meant to go
Three weeks of hanging on
He has no reason to
His love has gone
His mother is waiting
His best friend is there
Everyone he's lost along the way,
Waiting with open arms
Oliver
Abby
Evelyn
Joseph
Quinn
Ally
Catherine
And those are just a few
His family is there
He's lost everything
But himself
A short poem for Andy. Who was moved back to his home town for his last few weeks. Andy has been battling a cancer called soft tissue sarcoma. This has been a two year battle. It's closer to stage five than four now and he's been given three weeks to live. To say goodbye, to try and get better. Help me out and repost this to give him a reason to fight. Write your own poems and show him there's a reason to stay #ThisIsForAndy and #ANewReligion ~Thanks~
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 12:33 PM UTC
I'll be the Harley Quinn
To your Joker gender bend
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 10:34 PM UTC
dear quinn,
goodbyes are hard
but staying will be harder
just let go
it's okay
love,
atlas
Jul 5, 2020
Jul 5, 2020 at 9:39 PM UTC
is what seperates
ambition
from greed
and there is no room in our family
for greed
From Quinn Martin's
"The FBI"
starring Efrem Zimbalist Jr
Feb 14, 2011
Feb 14, 2011 at 6:26 PM UTC
*I don't know what this is
I only think of you
I can't pay attention at all
If I do, then it'll only be for a short while
Your the Joker to my Harley Quinn
Mad Hatter to Alice
Severus to Lilly
My light to my Darkness
I don't know what to do if you where gone
I need you everyday
If I'm away from you
I'll go insane
I know what this is called
Its called Mad Love*
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 2:01 PM UTC
I'm Joker
Looking for Quinn
but Poison ivy
strangled my heart
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 6:00 PM UTC
THROUGH VERY SHORT TIMES OF SPACE.
The red door of No.16
North Frederick Street
slams behind him as he
enters into this newly minted
morning
sunshine so thick
one feels like a fish
swimming through it.
Sunlight spangles
a tiny puddle
turning it into a jewel
that only the eye can cherish.
Ahhhh "...the ineluctable
modality of the visible."
He turns right into Upper
Dorset Street
pulling an "Ahhh...howya!"out of the man
who makes the false teeth.
Then turning left into
Eccles Street
giving the nod to No. 7
Bloom's house in ULYSSES.
Here in its run down state
though still shining in his fictionality.
Soon they will knock it
down and what will the tourists
do then
poor things.
Sure some bright spark
will rescue it from its rubble
and the door will live again
some streets away again.
Ahhh...." the ineluctable
modality of the visible."
I go to Quinn's gym
to get my Molly
( Philomena her name is )
a cottage cheese with pineapple
on a Weetabix base.
It is a 16th of June
somewhere in the 80's
as I retrace my own earlier
Joycean footsteps.
Rat-a-tat-tat on Bloom's door.
"Are ya there Leopold?"
But the bold Leopold
doesn't answer.
The 16th of
forever I am
"...walking through it
howsomever."
The sun smirks
as such Joyceisms.
"I am, a stride of a time.
A very short space of time
through very short times of space."
A horse and cart as if
from the past
saunters by
timelessly.
Ah "...the ineluctable
modality of the audible."
My Molly who is really
a Philomena
spoons the deliciousness
of the creamy dessert
into her
and yes she says
mmmm...yes....mmmm
Yes.
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 6:09 AM UTC
It’s Friday night and a group of us, the ‘university summer fellows’ (Quinn, Jammie, Monique, Lisa and I) are going groovin’. Quinn, a Harvard man (we’ve shed our jaundiced opinions of him), assured us he knows the Boston bar scene. We’re going to test that.
We told him we wanted to sway to whimsical beats and chase vivid, neon lights across dance floors, like a bunch of cats - till the hours get wee. His plan is for us to pop-in the “touristy” places, like ‘the Havana Club’, ‘the Manray club’, ‘Garage Boston’ and ‘The Grand’, we’re so 111. As usual, Charles is our party mom, escort and driver.
When Peter and I were in Saint-Tropez, earlier this summer, there were beach clothes - dresses, skirts and men's shirts - where they’d woven micro-LEDs into the flowered, dry-wick, fabrics. I think the effect is amazing, friday, and joyous. I got two skirts for everyone (all of my roommates). Tonight Lisa and I are wearing a couple of them.
Funny. I’ve mentioned it before, but Lisa‘s an audrey. Her school friends and roommates are all used to it, we’ve been exposed, we have built up immunity. But Quinn’s a newbie, when Lisa came into the living room, LED glittered and lookin-right, he was literally stunned. He froze, for a microsecond, his face went blank and his fingers wiggled, as if disconnected from his overloaded central nervous system.
*** Jammie said, having just turned around, “holla at ya brooke!,” he declared, shaking his head in admiration. “Umm mmm,” he added.
“I’m sure.” Lisa said, starting to transfer things from her everyday bag to her glittery clutch, the girl cannot accept a compliment. Quinn, coming out of it, cleared his throat.
We’re ready. Let Friday night begin!
Jun 30, 2023
Jun 30, 2023 at 12:12 PM UTC
All the pain behind your eyes
With every truth behind your lies
My love, heart and honesty dies
Because I've felt the pain
The result of lies
I've felt how it feels to want to die
And that you wouldn't tell me how you feel
Wouldn't let me in to help- is this not real?
I get it. somethings - everything- you don't want to share
I guess I should never have let my self care
I'm sorry
I'm not good enough
And will never say the right thing
But I guess that's what comes
Of being your Harley-Quinn.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 7:42 PM UTC
dear quinn,
it's okay
to tell people
how to make
you feel
okay.
they'll call you
by the right name
and the right pronouns.
and if they don't,
they will have lost
a part
of what it is
to be
human.
and that isn't
your fault.
love,
quinn
Feb 18, 2020
Feb 18, 2020 at 11:13 PM UTC