"quinton" poems
The names I would give if I had 26 sons.
Abel
Benjamin
Conway
Darth
Evan (After my nephew)
Fabian
Garth
Hollis (My dad)
Joey (My brother)
Isaac (My grandfather)
Kent
Lemuel
Matthew
Nathaniel
Othniel
Paul
Quinton
Richard (My middle name)
Sandage (My grandmother’s maiden name)
Terry (My name)
Uzziah
Val
William (My great grandfather)
X (One of my favorite wrestlers was Doctor X)
Yale
Zacchaeus
Oct 2, 2015
Oct 2, 2015 at 12:47 AM UTC
My name is Pablo Cervantes
But you can call me Quinton Saint Clair
I’m something rare like turquoise tangerines
Or crystal cathedrals and blistering sunbeams,
My stare is a raw gaze full of awe like ocean’s dawn
I ride ******** on polar bears in the dead Alaskan air
Slay undead corpses, a tantalizing career
Drink the tears of Jesus to make life clear
Eat waterfalls for breakfast, mountains for lunch, and last, but not least I feast on shooting stars before I go to sleep
Just call me Quinton Saint Clair savior of all quintessential affairs
Mar 23, 2010
Mar 23, 2010 at 6:59 PM UTC
Heavy handed Harold
With quiet Quinton quarrelled
Fighting for fine filly
Slapped he said silent silly
When wooed woman was aware
Bout the beating he did bare
She scorned the scolding suitor
And courted Quinton, the cuter
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 2:11 AM UTC