"roundhouse" poems
To the girl who will one day take my last name
I want to tell you that you look beautiful,
Beautiful like in the way the summer sun bends around the north pole because it refuses to set its constant and lasting
Just like the way my heart jumped the moment i saw you for the first time and it has refused to come down
Everytime since, when i see you, although i have never been much of a dreamer, i daydream about all the things i want to do to you like...
Make you smile... or blush
So that my daydreams will have the perfect backdrop of love to memorize your every freckle, and then i want to drink the smile i put on your face beause i know it is the only thing that can quench my thirst
I want to tell you that I want to learn ballet, just so i can catch you everytime you jump and make sure that ill never let you fall... unless it's for me...
I want to learn to draw
Because I want to draw my way into your life, van gogh my way into your past present and future, i want to spend my whole life with you, and on your dying day i want to roundhouse kick death for even thinking of taking you away from me
But most of all i want to make you... happy
Happy in a way that is unexplainable
Like why do birds suddenly appear everytime you are near
It would be to easy to say that just like me they long to be close to you
And i want it to be unexpected like when you fall asleep after a long day
Slowely at first and then it engulfs you completely
I want to tell you that I want you to be able to feel the sunlights warm caress even on the darkest of days
And on days when you can't see the stars in the night sky
I will cut stars out of my paper heart
Even though they always seem to rip when held in hands that aren't careful enough
and then I want to hang them from your ceiling
So you will always have something beautiful to look at
And if you would just notice me I promise that I can love you like that...
But instead when I finally noticed that you caught me staring at you about 15 minutes ago... I opened my mouth and instead of all the soliloquies that dance through my head whenever you saunter into a room all that came out was hi.....
I think it was a good start.
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 1:55 PM UTC
Agnes McDuff collected strange stuff,
Or so the story goes:
There were old pots and pans,
String, rubber bands,
Boxes and boxes of clothes,
Newspapers, plates,
Books stored in crates,
And candlesticks lined up in rows.
Some mason jars,
Toy trucks and cars,
A model train with a whistle that blows,
Needles and spools,
All kinds of tools,
And shoes with holes in the toes.
There were tables and chairs,
Bookends in pairs,
A grandfather clock that was broke,
An old brass spittoon,
Some Sunday cartoons,
And a bicycle mssing a spoke.
Four or five hundred old wooden blocks,
Twenty-three pair of grey woolen socks,
A Christmas Edition bottle of Coke,
A board game missing directions,
A bat, a ball, a catcher’s mitt, two baseball card collections,
And a great big rusty tuba. What a joke!
There was other stuff, but you’ve heard enough;
About what was stored in
The Attic of Agnes McDuff.
Part 2
Agnes’ attic was quite special
But not for the things it contained
But for how she had to get there
Please let me explain!
Agnes had a one-story house
A flight of stairs led to the attic.
When she opened up the door,
The light came on automatic.
It opened to a hallway
Where there was another door
Another light, another hall, and more stairs, which
Led back down to the first floor!
Where an elevator waited
To take her up again?
But it had just one button
And it was numbered “10”.
When she pushed it, it was crazy
The elevator turned upon its side,
Grew wheels and drove out on the street
For an amazing ride!
Across a long suspension bridge,
Then underneath a tunnel,
And then it went around and round
Like circling down a funnel!
It dropped upon a railroad track
Hooked onto the caboose
And followed to the roundhouse
Where it finally broke loose.
It turned around a couple times
And ran out toward the street
The elevator ran, of course
Because it had grown two feet!
It ran across an avenue,
Around a lake, and through a park
And then through another tunnel
Where it was very dark.
A mile later it emerged,
At Agnes’ house, by her front door!
The elevator walked inside,
And was on the second floor!!
So that’s how Agnes reached her attic,
Perhaps someday you’ll go there too,
Push the elevator button,
And you’ll find my story’s true!
Part 3
Agnes stood there in her attic
And smiled at all her stuff
That almost ends the story of
The Attic of Agnes McDuff.
But Agnes’ story can never end
Her smile turned to a frown,
Because you see poor Agnes
Forgot how to get back down!!
PwL May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 8:17 AM UTC
Maggie threw a weak left jab at the upper torso of Jacob to throw him off balance and swung hard with her right arm towards his exposed left cheek, connecting her small fists on his flesh with such impact that it immediately began to swell up. He retaliated with a well placed right hook to the side of Maggie's arm that sent her moving sideways before she regained her footing and answered back with a succession of jabs to his midsection.
Sweat poured down both of their faces mixing with the blood from cuts and bruises that both had received in one of the earlier bouts. They were now in the sixth round and neither showed any determination in losing.
Jacob brought his right leg up for a straight kick towards Maggie's stomach but she caught his leg and rotated it clockwise knocking him off balance and falling chest first to the mat. Maggie attempted to a heel lock but could not gain enough leverage to lock it in and Jacob slipped out of her grip and got back to his feet and shook it off. Maggie snarled thru her mouth guard and spun around with a roundhouse, catching her foot just short of hard enough on his left calf, sending numbness up and down his leg. She went in for a double leg takedown but was caught off guard when Jacob raised his right knee and connected it with the left temple on her head. Her vision began to go hazy and she swung wildly with a left and then a right before she was able to shake the cobwebs clear and see him throwing a straight, hard, and fast right squarely at her face.
She ducked less than an inch before his fist would've met the bridge of her nose and she came up with her fists balled tightly in an uppercut and landed on the bottom of his jaw sending him reeling backwards and losing his balance he fell on the ground. Maggie rushed over and got on top of him in guard position and began raining down lefts and rights to his face which he was blocking. She threw a few shots at his side causing him to arch into a kidney shape and bring his arms away from his face. Maggie grabbed his left arm and went for a Fuji armbar and locked it in tightly, feeling the joint of his elbow bending sharply on her pelvic bone. She arched her back harder, tightened her thighs around his arm and twisted the upper portion of his wrist to the left until she felt the familiar feeling of a tap out on her legs. She released the grip and stood up, ****** bruised, sweaty, but not beaten.
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 12:28 PM UTC
I don’t know which spoon to use
Or where to put my shoes
I don’t know which hand to shake
Or how to drink my soup
I don’t know which cheek to kiss
Or if I need to bow
I don’t which blouse I should be wearing
Or which holy psalm to recite
I have never been able to make small talk
Or make people feel at ease
I don’t even know my biological traditions
How will I ever learn these?
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 2:39 PM UTC
Part 4
When we last left poor Agnes
In her attic all alone
She couldn’t find her way back down,
And she had no telephone.
No light switch and no stairway
She couldn’t find the hall
The elevator disappeared
(It had sunk into the floor)
And to make her situation worse,
She couldn’t find the door!
But Agnes McDuff was pretty tough;
She didn’t mess around
She thought of stuff that she could use
To help her get back down.
First she lit the candlesticks
So she would have some light -
For an attic with no window
Is black as darkest night.
With candlelight, she now could see;
She dumped the clothes from all the boxes,
Put the boxes on the table,
Next she stacked the wooden blocks.
She found some nails and a hammer
In her Grandma’s toolbox.
She nailed it all together
And on top she nailed the chairs
Now Agnes had a set of crazy, crooked
Homemade stairs!
Agnes went back to the toolbox,
She saw a saw was there,
She carried it very carefully
As she climbed the crazy stair.
Now you might have a feeling
Of what she was going to do
Yes, she climbed up to the ceiling, and
Used the saw to cut right through!
She climbed back down and looked around
Found the rubber bands and string
Added several woolen socks
And made a giant sling!
She rummaged through the dumped out clothes
Found a wedding dress and suit
And with the needle and the spool of thread
Made a great big parachute!
She hooked the parachute to the bicycle
(The one without a spoke)
And tied the back wheel to the tuba
And that was NOT a joke.
The tuba was quite heavy
So it kept the bike at rest
Once again climbed up the crazy stair
And performed the final test.
She nailed both ends of the slingshot
Around the opening she’d sawn
Hooked the sling around the bicycle
Moved the stair, and then got on.
Somehow the clock was working!
It was ringing Three, Two, One
And just as Agnes cut the tie she thought
Boy! This could be FUN!
The slingshot worked!
Shot Agnes out, on the bike, way up into the sky,
And she looked around in wonder thought,
Boy! I’ve never been this high!
She went up a mile or so
Before she dared look down
She saw the long suspension bridge
And the other parts of town.
She saw the entrance to the tunnel
(The rest was under ground)
She saw the roundhouse and the avenue
The park and then the lake
Finally, she saw her house
There was no mistake!
So she deployed the parachute
And gently she descended
And this is where the story
Of Agnes Attic should have ended.
She walked up to the doorway
Turned the handle, now you see?
The door was locked from the inside,
Agnes McDuff forgot the key!
PwL May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 8:58 AM UTC
your name rings so loudly
in my mind
that i cannot hear anything else
your touch was like a
roundhouse kick to my brain
short circuiting everything inside
your love was like a glacial age
your cold nature
****** everything in dry
your departure was like a nightmare
one where time is elapsed
and you don’t remember my name -
you don’t like me like that.
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 1:06 AM UTC
I'm a tool pondering skyscapes.
Fondling a memory
Left behind
On sunset marquees.
It raced into the horizon like
A toad on the road.
A neon dream waving farewell.
Exploring mindsets:
An act in caressing
Bloodbath tesseracts.
A roundhouse rollercoaster,
Spinning at velocity of perfume
Hitting nasal perforations.
Core memories surface along spine cutlets,
No longer intrinsic
Doubt.
I'm settling for more.
Time is a moment
Too long to endure.
Hindsight is
A parson's lake passage;
A mad monster yet to be tamed;
A grain of salt to a fresh wound made;
Moments of grace from a fake great ape.
Blue morons slide
Into Mormon jovial footsteps.
Derided ice forestry into
King's cloaked ancestry.
A sad fisherman sailing
Ceaselessly out to sea.
And yet here I am
Talking to you,
Eyelight through obelisks
In hotbox barricades.
Hiding behind
A past of newspapers.
Headline reads 'ONLY DEVINE'
'TRADE REIGN WARNS JEWELS'
'PRINCE THREATENS ECONOMY
... AND CROWN.'
Wipe the frown,
Draw the sword.
Don't be ignored anymore.
Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 5:17 PM UTC
It's snowing tonight,
and I think ********* Dad,
when Maryland beats Indiana
and I move to text him.
He's beyond snow now.
So what do I do with these
unbearable photos he took
of me standing alone
in the withered sun
on monumental trains,
I was six or seven,
out by the rusting roundhouse
in Brunswick?
It's been snowing for hours
& I carve a footpath
out to the unplowed street
to watch the shining gray
banks under the amber light.
There is no route to carve
through this silence.
My father was made of ghost towns,
from Manzanar, from the endless
pine-dark of Idaho's rivered night,
from all the unmapped places,
he grew complete in himself.
And even now as I watch
the snow slant and stumble
I am left behind as his son
apart from him and without.
The snow dives into the
night blankness and I wonder
if I had died first, cutting short
this reckless careless crooked sprawl,
would he be writing here?
The smeared gray glow
of the screen across his hands,
the fat flake snow rising
like dough beneath the windows?
Dec 31, 2018
Dec 31, 2018 at 3:20 AM UTC
Spinning in circles that have square corners
I'm the new Broadway sensation
The moon is wearing surprise pink gel
And the wind is rosining it's bow
The Marquee is lighted by roman candles
That change colors as you observe
My name is carved into pumpkins
Lit from inside by gold sparklers
The Phantom Toll Booth is housing Will Call
And the ushers are all wearing drag
The Animal Rights folks are picketing
The unkind treatment of frogs
The clearing of throats often hurts them
And we're all a long way from the pond
My costume is still at the cleaners
So I'm dressed as somebody else
The fourth wall is now made of plaster
And my double is lost in the wings
I look but I can't see the footlights
Through the fog machine's oily haze
The prompter's asleep in the Green Room
And the Concert Master is ******
The Conductor is wearing a trainman's hat
But the Midnight Special won't be stopping here
Like me, it's gone off the rails once again
And there's nobody home in the Roundhouse
The outside decided to come on back inside
But all the seats now are taken
I need to stop twirling - I'm dizzy
I overlooked taking a point
There's somebody up in the flies
I think I see sandbags beginning to swing
I can't hear the music; the air is too loud
And too many people are breathing
That isn't applause after all - it's thunder
And my key light has faded to three
My funniest line drew no laughter
And I've got to exit stage left
The curtain call was a barrel house polka
And no one presented me flowers
The stage door is painted an angry red
and it needs to be painted coal black
I'm back outside where I've always belonged
And no one is waiting to greet me
With autograph book and stub of a pen
Guess I might just as well walk on home
LJM
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 12:31 PM UTC
I saw that when the morning came
the light was chequered like a game we play
and dealt itself a winning hand
within the dealing of its day.
Although the lick of dawn was dry
against my skin
I then knew why
the ocean leaned up to the sky
and why the Albatross would cry
when wandering and
shy was the Man who saw the nakedness of nature in the raw.
Before the sunshine grabbed my coat
undressed me in its heat
I wrote
several melodies and upon each note
I placed a bloom,
a rose, and soon when in the final hours
when petal showered down and made the music sad
the stripes of candy bumble bees
came singing as if just trying to please
and me,
I was on my knees picking up the dead and dying
crying out to God
'tell me why'
and as if in answer
the ocean kissed the sky
the heavens fell and suddenly it seems that all is well
and circles, cycles, riding through and round the avenues
of when I'm blue
return and when in this roundhouse
tolling bells
or in the chapel house declining invitations to accept the rules of hell
I think that I may understand
or maybe I don't see at all and all I do is fall into the trap
where I keep on falling back
and the ocean's just a sack of..
well it doesn't seem to bother some
who sit and watch the Sun at play
some days it really is not my day
however much I try
I should just accept the medications
sit back in my corner
and begin to cry.
Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 1:08 AM UTC
You need a little diplomacy:
You're Tammy's daughter, right?
Yeah.
Hi my name is Eric, I'm 28. May I ask your mother for your hand.
Dude it's 2006 and I'm 17, I can't get married
but go ahead and ask, she'll roundhouse kick you out of the building
It's ok we'll wait a year.
Can I come and watch you ask?
You need patience
Because the guys from F&B;
Are picking up the trays
And they've pressed
On every single button
And need at least 30 seconds
In each floor
That's 5 minutes before the elevator comes.
And everyone knows you:
"You know you're just like your mother"
is he picking a fight
"Hi Mona Lisa"
***
"What time do you finish"
stop asking and tuck in your shirt
And you always smile:
Wiping fingerprints off a glass door
"Excuse me, pay I pass?"
"You know what, I dare you"
One look that says
"Feet up"
And the sporters are easy going
And when their garbage bags weigh
About 20 kgs
They'll take down their own thrash
Because they're "tall and strong"
And you're not.
And the strangest things happen:
"Can you two stop having *** on the piano?"
And you learn to connect the dots
"Andy's going to **** you"
"Yeah"
"What are we going to do"
"I have leftover doughnuts. Andy likes doughnuts"
"Oh you're fine."
And at the end of the day
When you go down to the foyer
And find a taxi parked in the middle
You don't ask how did it get in here
Because you turn the hell around
"I can't even process that"
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 5:40 PM UTC
I hear voices in my head
I hear them sound like dead
people on Any Given Sunday
an ungracious abundance
of other peoples’ voices
I hear them most
when other people speak
loudness leaks from moving lips
to say words that make no sense
that say something else
the Politics of Experience
unfold me like some geometric inkblot
I see Batman
I see Batman
I see BATMAN
Did you hear that?
It sounded like Batman
like a Batarang
catching some villainous cape
like a car door closing
on a Great Escape
it sounded like
two people
competing for head space
the one being said
the one being meant
the silence in between them
speaks volumes to itself
No, please say that again
in a sonorous tone
it snores my inner demon
to groan behind an asinine
slumbering inside each line
wound with reservations grinding
our hero chopped off from loose lips
to fit in the caustic grimoire of actual fact
I am the Bat
I am the Bat
I am the Bat
I hear voices in my head
that sound like conversations
an unwilling participant am I
by virtue of presence, my
lips unlocked never seem
to speak enough
though lips move more gratefully
than these feet that just want to leave
this place, to never talk again
sit behind a screen
be pixelated, a thinly
gleaming monitor
of the fun facts lacking
in a lark-full repartee
I check up on myself
look up the words that I doubt
check my bruises
from roundhouse kicks
split lips bloodied with small talk
sweet silence is
to stay home and smoke
I should stop talking
Did you hear that?
and when they play like they don’t know
don’t let them go
make them stay
to tell us what
they meant to say
#againandagain
#againandagain
I hear voices
Did you say something?
Apr 9, 2019
Apr 9, 2019 at 3:06 AM UTC
This addiction has carried over the brink
Please say different words than the ones you are saying
My drums have lost beat
and my soul be hollow
Protecting my peace got dangerous
Resting my feet
There is no real logic for why we are broken this way
I heard thunder outside but it was just the garbage truck
Coming by to sweep up the yesterdays for God to cash them in as karma
I am drinking beer out of a McDonalds cup at 6:22am
I was 14 when I gave him my parts
He was 21 when he gave them to her
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 9:15 AM UTC
I'm tied up in a submission hold,
my muscles feel the sting.
I'm straining from the agony,
and there's a blood spot in the ring.
If only I had thrown an elbow,
or better timed a kick.
Maybe a brutal roundhouse,
that I could pull off sharp and quick.
Yes, if this had gone differently,
I wouldn't be stuck here flat,
as the timer ticks on endlessly,
and I'm ground into the mat.
I'm as proud a fighter as they come,
this war has been heartfelt.
I could have given up three rounds ago,
but I really want that belt.
I grunt and groan and wrestle,
but my opponent doesn't sway.
Perhaps it's best I just tap out,
and fight another day.
Feb 13, 2019
Feb 13, 2019 at 4:58 PM UTC
If you ever showed a sliver of love,
It was never towards me.
I was never your favorite web to spin,
I was always the best one to devour,
I'd let you come back for seconds,
Thirds
Fourths
Fifths sometimes if you weren't satisfied
You leave me black and blue in a way no one can see.
So no one would ever know
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 9:34 PM UTC
let's take a second to listen
written alphabetically
with a brand-new addition
spliffing delivering
heat, cat on a hot tin roof
sizzling, Messi, dribbling
spit ill sickening
guest visiting,
lend me your ear, listening
shimmering as he shines bright
twinkling, divide, partitioning
locked up, imprisoning
doodle, scribbling
SA drill
spicing with flavor
seasoning, using my head
thinking of reasons
to justify reasoning
for dazzling,
as we settle in
round 2 smurfed but
not blue, more a colored
hue, repping cape town
awe bru, wake up
disabling snooze
jesters you fools
visionary when I see
first from the back
they all lose
not a masquerade it's all true
deadline my times due
ask mew 2, pokemon
index, it's perplex
get ash too, over
a cuckoos nest birds flew
seeking asylum hes crazy
still frosty so cool
yu gi it's time to
dddd duel
this the part where spazz out
remove doubt, running circles
on tracks, roundabout,
roundhouse kick to chin and mouth
no handout, grind out
red hot
circular rounded
noise drowned out, not shouting for clout
cant recognize skill,
take this pill, it will break
the spell my tracks stackable
not saying this sarcastical
sarcastically or sarcastic
not applicable, resolve soluble
doubt dissolve i'm liquid cyanide
every track i **** surgeons
precision with a scalpel
so skilful, I sculpture
syllables in rhyme schemes
unseen to the naked ear
class dismissed school bell
so tell all its not all folks
not ****** toons no jokes
not ****** tunes, with lazy tones
I have lampoons, that ******
death squad platoon
you'll be history lying in ruins
surfing these dunes no fear
seeing things as the series turns
with unclear reasons I'm nuclear
Jan 28, 2023
Jan 28, 2023 at 9:43 AM UTC