"sarongs" poems - Hello Poetry

Goodbye wasps Goodbye bees Goodbye pollen from the trees Goodbye midges Goodbye flies Goodbye scorching cloudless skies Goodbye seagulls Goodbye ants Goodbye sunbathers in tiny pants Goodbye sunburn Goodbye oiled skin Goodbye iced drinks laced with gin Goodbye tourists Goodbye throngs Goodbye men wearing sarongs Goodbye hosepipe Goodbye lawn mower Welcome to the noisy leaf blower Hello Autumn Hello cool bright day Hello rolling around in the hay Hello harvest Hello fruits Hello hiking in hiking boots Hello warm colours Hello warm hearts Good riddance Summer Autumn starts

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Aug 27, 2014

Aug 27, 2014 at 4:07 AM UTC

shaded-lamp

Goodbye Summer

Goodbye wasps Goodbye bees Goodbye pollen from the trees Goodbye midges Goodbye flies Goodbye scorching cloudless skies Goodbye seagulls Goodbye ants Goodbye sunbathers in tiny pants Goodbye sunburn Goodbye oiled skin Goodbye iced drinks laced with gin Goodbye tourists Goodbye throngs Goodbye men wearing sarongs Goodbye hosepipe Goodbye lawn mower Welcome to the noisy leaf blower Hello Autumn Hello cool bright day Hello rolling around in the hay Hello harvest Hello fruits Hello hiking in hiking boots Hello warm colours Hello warm hearts Good riddance Summer Autumn starts

28

there, the air is thicker it hangs full, like the ladies all the sadness lived in the capsules of trapped air in woollen jumpers left behind men with their toothless smiles and shining skin coax laughter from a steel drum the market boasts a rainbow of sarongs, papayas, star fruits offered in jangling song it was a medicine. the coral blooms in the reef are teeth in a dog's mouth, guarding.

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Mar 25, 2012

Mar 25, 2012 at 10:20 AM UTC

rkm

Calypso

there, the air is thicker it hangs full, like the ladies all the sadness lived in the capsules of trapped air in woollen jumpers left behind men with their toothless smiles and shining skin coax laughter from a steel drum the market boasts a rainbow of sarongs, papayas, star fruits offered in jangling song it was a medicine. the coral blooms in the reef are teeth in a dog's mouth, guarding.

15

Gangnam pool Salon Systems 010-3923-7007 ◈◈◈1 subsystem ◈◈◈ (bukchangdong expression system) Total 1 hours 10 minutes in the dazzling music Battle (early, late), so enter twice Room sokeseoneun Group hug, and he can touch etc. Hot and soft feel hot to the touch. Jeonhaeohneun body ^^ Gangnam sarongs at a time in the pool with a drink excitement ~ ◈◈◈2 subsystem ◈◈◈ (geukgang lover mode @) Jilpeon the furnace for 1 hour 10 minutes Part 1 The inconvenience syeotjiman slightly south are you? Putt regret that much short of a definite home run finished in Part 2 Noldeon lady in the room and go hand in hand up the field unforgettable beats the best Enjoy ^^ Part Time Lover service total 50 minutes without wanting Gangnam pool sarongs best service!

0

Dec 13, 2014

Dec 13, 2014 at 7:42 AM UTC

hyeri-kim

Seoul Gangnam pool Salon 01039237007

Gangnam pool Salon Systems 010-3923-7007 ◈◈◈1 subsystem ◈◈◈ (bukchangdong expression system) Total 1 hours 10 minutes in the dazzling music Battle (early, late), so enter twice Room sokeseoneun Group hug, and he can touch etc. Hot and soft feel hot to the touch. Jeonhaeohneun body ^^ Gangnam sarongs at a time in the pool with a drink excitement ~ ◈◈◈2 subsystem ◈◈◈ (geukgang lover mode @) Jilpeon the furnace for 1 hour 10 minutes Part 1 The inconvenience syeotjiman slightly south are you? Putt regret that much short of a definite home run finished in Part 2 Noldeon lady in the room and go hand in hand up the field unforgettable beats the best Enjoy ^^ Part Time Lover service total 50 minutes without wanting Gangnam pool sarongs best service!

12

sticky tar on the soles of my shoes the smell of meat bbqing mixed with salt air, sunscreen, and beer air shimmers, cats and dogs shadowy lumps under trees and deck eaves, old women sitting wide-legged infront of fans children darting in and out of pools, men in singlets or bare chested, women in sarongs and shorts.... all waiting for the afternoon breeze, the sun to give up and leave.... and the cool of the evening to come...

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Oct 5, 2015

Oct 5, 2015 at 2:00 AM UTC

betterdays

heatwave...

sticky tar on the soles of my shoes the smell of meat bbqing mixed with salt air, sunscreen, and beer air shimmers, cats and dogs shadowy lumps under trees and deck eaves, old women sitting wide-legged infront of fans children darting in and out of pools, men in singlets or bare chested, women in sarongs and shorts.... all waiting for the afternoon breeze, the sun to give up and leave.... and the cool of the evening to come...

12

white roses and Jacob's Coat purple bearded irises and ferns dark red wax begonias scents of night jasmine French lavender antique tea roses loquat, plum, guava and lemon trees all swaying with an ocean breeze casting shadows in the setting sun memories of childhood bamboo and nipa houses coconut groves and fragrant banana witches, faeries and wok-woks a favorite white haired grandfather living off land and sea harvesting root crops and fruit fishing for viand barefoot and ******* sarongs in a private paradise miles from town bonfire festivities tuba wine and drunken salamats an open adoption a house tiled with affluence and visits back home a war's interruption people lost or found married off to life in America lumpia, pancit, beefsteak and beeco spaghetti, burgers, *** roast and pizza dinner's table set for eleven the house on Wagner street the loss of husband and son advancing age and declining health ER's and ICU's a final farewell a garden of children grand children and great grand children branches in Lala's family tree her progeny sprouting roots looking to the future

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Oct 7, 2014

Oct 7, 2014 at 9:56 PM UTC

del-maximo

LALA'S GARDEN

white roses and Jacob's Coat purple bearded irises and ferns dark red wax begonias scents of night jasmine French lavender antique tea roses loquat, plum, guava and lemon trees all swaying with an ocean breeze casting shadows in the setting sun memories of childhood bamboo and nipa houses coconut groves and fragrant banana witches, faeries and wok-woks a favorite white haired grandfather living off land and sea harvesting root crops and fruit fishing for viand barefoot and ******* sarongs in a private paradise miles from town bonfire festivities tuba wine and drunken salamats an open adoption a house tiled with affluence and visits back home a war's interruption people lost or found married off to life in America lumpia, pancit, beefsteak and beeco spaghetti, burgers, *** roast and pizza dinner's table set for eleven the house on Wagner street the loss of husband and son advancing age and declining health ER's and ICU's a final farewell a garden of children grand children and great grand children branches in Lala's family tree her progeny sprouting roots looking to the future

40

I will not end for you, no. I will begin, and I will keep on beginning. I will lick peach juices from my fingertips like mama's milk dripping from the **** I will wrap myself in silk sarongs and stay that way for days, marveling at the texture of my own skin. I will run naked through the rain and liberate myself in knowing that what will happen will happen and there is no safe way out. I will sit close and listen. I will breathe water lying still in a stream. I will eat poems for breakfast and I will slowly learn how to die.

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Mar 12, 2013

Mar 12, 2013 at 4:04 AM UTC

makiya-green

Sing me another verse that's worse than the first verse, make sure that it's foolish and silly.

I will not end for you, no. I will begin, and I will keep on beginning. I will lick peach juices from my fingertips like mama's milk dripping from the **** I will wrap myself in silk sarongs and stay that way for days, marveling at the texture of my own skin. I will run naked through the rain and liberate myself in knowing that what will happen will happen and there is no safe way out. I will sit close and listen. I will breathe water lying still in a stream. I will eat poems for breakfast and I will slowly learn how to die.

17

I thought sirens were voluptuous women, Who sat upon rocks and sang to men, Who couldn’t think past, The tips of their ***** I was sure they had the longest hair, I had ever seen, That swore to you, It had met with eternity. Through rose-scented ears, And rose-budded drapes, I had heard of their full, soft ******* That breathed airily beneath, The green beads of the sea, Speaking, softly, of impending agendas. " But, I found out yesterday, Their hands are great, Yielding rough spears, Rather than white sarongs. They’re not sitting at all - They actually stand tall, Looming over you, With ***** of their own.

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Jul 23, 2011

Jul 23, 2011 at 8:14 PM UTC

elephants-and-coyotes

Songs Are Songs Are Songs

I thought sirens were voluptuous women, Who sat upon rocks and sang to men, Who couldn’t think past, The tips of their ***** I was sure they had the longest hair, I had ever seen, That swore to you, It had met with eternity. Through rose-scented ears, And rose-budded drapes, I had heard of their full, soft ******* That breathed airily beneath, The green beads of the sea, Speaking, softly, of impending agendas. " But, I found out yesterday, Their hands are great, Yielding rough spears, Rather than white sarongs. They’re not sitting at all - They actually stand tall, Looming over you, With ***** of their own.

23

In the garden before it was lost, (come back soon lost garden), pepper vines grew around the sweet fruit trees. durian fell sarongs rose, all was fecund in the globe of sour tamarind and bitter herb; a balance, a unity of love given and lust taken. chilli red yellow green shone in morning mist, evening gloam among myriad leaves clogging the undug pool, hurting the fish breath in the old frog pond. unpicked, the fruit. unclipped, the hedge. all my life too lazy to get ahead, leaving all my fruit to seed. let it rot and feed the sand soil, grow turf beneath the trees. in this moment only hell and heaven.

0

Apr 20, 2016

Apr 20, 2016 at 3:23 AM UTC

mike-adam

Pepper tree

In the garden before it was lost, (come back soon lost garden), pepper vines grew around the sweet fruit trees. durian fell sarongs rose, all was fecund in the globe of sour tamarind and bitter herb; a balance, a unity of love given and lust taken. chilli red yellow green shone in morning mist, evening gloam among myriad leaves clogging the undug pool, hurting the fish breath in the old frog pond. unpicked, the fruit. unclipped, the hedge. all my life too lazy to get ahead, leaving all my fruit to seed. let it rot and feed the sand soil, grow turf beneath the trees. in this moment only hell and heaven.

28

My first impressions were mind expanding, filled with crushing throngs of busy people all moving, their clamor and noise unrelenting. The enduring, evocative scents and smells of a culture thousands of years old and thriving. The wide mud brown life's blood Ganges River flowing through the heart of the city, filled with wooden crafts of all descriptions, people on the banks bathing, washing clothes, living, open funeral pyres burning, life and death laid bare for all eyes to see as it has been since Time Immemorial. On the street's flowers and music in abundance, women in colorful, to drab Sari dresses denoting their stature, along with some men in western attire but most in sarongs and open toed sandals. While walking the streets every few blocks the at first shocking sight of impoverished recently deceased bodies laid out on the sidewalks upon straw mats, swaddled in cloth wrappings awaiting donation offerings enough to pay for their funeral fires. Unaccustomed to seeing Westerners the people pause and stare as if we were from outer space visitors, if we stopped moving, unthreateningly and wide eyed they would surround us, perhaps unsure what they are seeing. A mutually curious encounter, Humanity visited up close and personal. Aw yes, I fondly remember India.

0

Nov 14, 2022

Nov 14, 2022 at 7:30 PM UTC

stephen-e-yocum

CALCUTTA

My first impressions were mind expanding, filled with crushing throngs of busy people all moving, their clamor and noise unrelenting. The enduring, evocative scents and smells of a culture thousands of years old and thriving. The wide mud brown life's blood Ganges River flowing through the heart of the city, filled with wooden crafts of all descriptions, people on the banks bathing, washing clothes, living, open funeral pyres burning, life and death laid bare for all eyes to see as it has been since Time Immemorial. On the street's flowers and music in abundance, women in colorful, to drab Sari dresses denoting their stature, along with some men in western attire but most in sarongs and open toed sandals. While walking the streets every few blocks the at first shocking sight of impoverished recently deceased bodies laid out on the sidewalks upon straw mats, swaddled in cloth wrappings awaiting donation offerings enough to pay for their funeral fires. Unaccustomed to seeing Westerners the people pause and stare as if we were from outer space visitors, if we stopped moving, unthreateningly and wide eyed they would surround us, perhaps unsure what they are seeing. A mutually curious encounter, Humanity visited up close and personal. Aw yes, I fondly remember India.

27