"saskatoon" poems - Hello Poetry

the earth is curved - sure y’all knew that. but to get to the Northwest, Interstate 84 ain’t le route plus directe nope curve north to Ontario, wave to Bex as I cross over London and Toronto, also can’t recall which poet from Rochester hails, or did they shuffle off to Buffalo? Crossing Erie, Huron, and Michigan Great Lakes all, brings to mind my mother’s birthplace, Last of the Mohicans, and the three years I did in the Cleveland Penitentiary, where sun was illegal and baseball was a pretend play of cowboys and Indians but by god, it made me the penitent fella I am today Look skyward to Montreal, yes, there he is, the Leo Priest, the baffled king, blessing this poetic meet ‘n greet trip with a smiling unsurprising hallelujah Apparently some US citizens still can traverse O Canada, even if one forgot their passports, and are not PNG’s (Persons Not so GREAT) over Minneapolis shed a tear for Diane, a poet- gone-missing, and wonder if you reader come from St. Cloud, Fargo or Duluth, Bismarck or Aberdeen, surely they still speak poetic English there in a twangy metering methodology - well, message me asap wow there really is a Saskatoon! the pilot asks us to lean left in our seats to help turn the plane so we go to Portland and not to Vancouver... me thinks he might be a touch Rockie Mountain High, considering we are at 30 thousand something Imperial, as he walks the main cabin with an oxygen mask and a huuuuuge grin see the distant Cascades through a crack in the shuttered windows, must be close to “the coast” (as if, harrumph, there were but one) ah, words in the clouds, ripe for the plucking must be getting close to Oregon, where poets grow on trees, woody words like **** and log-float poems down the Columbia to the sea gonna drink me some poets under the table cause this trip I ain’t no driving and I am already “flying” ‘n scribing and arriving on a high tide and a good wind

0

Jun 7, 2018

Jun 7, 2018 at 5:47 AM UTC

nat-lipstadt

Songs of Going to Oregon: No. 2 But Who Knew?

the earth is curved - sure y’all knew that. but to get to the Northwest, Interstate 84 ain’t le route plus directe nope curve north to Ontario, wave to Bex as I cross over London and Toronto, also can’t recall which poet from Rochester hails, or did they shuffle off to Buffalo? Crossing Erie, Huron, and Michigan Great Lakes all, brings to mind my mother’s birthplace, Last of the Mohicans, and the three years I did in the Cleveland Penitentiary, where sun was illegal and baseball was a pretend play of cowboys and Indians but by god, it made me the penitent fella I am today Look skyward to Montreal, yes, there he is, the Leo Priest, the baffled king, blessing this poetic meet ‘n greet trip with a smiling unsurprising hallelujah Apparently some US citizens still can traverse O Canada, even if one forgot their passports, and are not PNG’s (Persons Not so GREAT) over Minneapolis shed a tear for Diane, a poet- gone-missing, and wonder if you reader come from St. Cloud, Fargo or Duluth, Bismarck or Aberdeen, surely they still speak poetic English there in a twangy metering methodology - well, message me asap wow there really is a Saskatoon! the pilot asks us to lean left in our seats to help turn the plane so we go to Portland and not to Vancouver... me thinks he might be a touch Rockie Mountain High, considering we are at 30 thousand something Imperial, as he walks the main cabin with an oxygen mask and a huuuuuge grin see the distant Cascades through a crack in the shuttered windows, must be close to “the coast” (as if, harrumph, there were but one) ah, words in the clouds, ripe for the plucking must be getting close to Oregon, where poets grow on trees, woody words like **** and log-float poems down the Columbia to the sea gonna drink me some poets under the table cause this trip I ain’t no driving and I am already “flying” ‘n scribing and arriving on a high tide and a good wind

53

There is rutabaga, and ratatouille, gotta love alliteration Then Albuquerque and Tallahassee, are somewhere in our nation And Saskatoon, Saskatchewan found in Canada, my dear In old colloquial, there were hooligans and shenanigans, I fear At school I use a dongle it connects me to my work I hope I didn't bumfuzzle you, didn't mean to be a **** Just one more word on my short list and to see what it can do Find the one you love and in sweet soft voice just turn and utter "pooh"

0

Dec 16, 2015

Dec 16, 2015 at 9:30 AM UTC

michael-murphy

Funny Words!

There is rutabaga, and ratatouille, gotta love alliteration Then Albuquerque and Tallahassee, are somewhere in our nation And Saskatoon, Saskatchewan found in Canada, my dear In old colloquial, there were hooligans and shenanigans, I fear At school I use a dongle it connects me to my work I hope I didn't bumfuzzle you, didn't mean to be a **** Just one more word on my short list and to see what it can do Find the one you love and in sweet soft voice just turn and utter "pooh"

8

I met this little number when I was out at the mall I thought that she was cute and so I gave her a call We were going to a movie, Saskatoon at the Roxy When I went to pick her up she was lookin real foxy We showed up at the flick, she paid for my ticket This girls lookin solid, you could say that shes a brick (house!) The date was lookin good so we went back to my place Started workin my magic cause I had found some real PH We went straight to my room, just like I had assumed Ya you can call me Mazda girl, cause I like to Zoom Zoom Yo this girl is insane, she has no sense of shame I got her up into my room she's screamin my name. When we finished doin ***** she started actin flirty but then I said "you have to leave cause I gotta wake up early" So this is how it ends, she went back to her boyfriend's I had my fun and now I'm done, she's just a lady friend

0

May 5, 2011

May 5, 2011 at 1:49 AM UTC

robert-nnamdi-parkinson

Lady Friend

I met this little number when I was out at the mall I thought that she was cute and so I gave her a call We were going to a movie, Saskatoon at the Roxy When I went to pick her up she was lookin real foxy We showed up at the flick, she paid for my ticket This girls lookin solid, you could say that shes a brick (house!) The date was lookin good so we went back to my place Started workin my magic cause I had found some real PH We went straight to my room, just like I had assumed Ya you can call me Mazda girl, cause I like to Zoom Zoom Yo this girl is insane, she has no sense of shame I got her up into my room she's screamin my name. When we finished doin ***** she started actin flirty but then I said "you have to leave cause I gotta wake up early" So this is how it ends, she went back to her boyfriend's I had my fun and now I'm done, she's just a lady friend

16

Anne came and left but I remember the sweet cider and the wood stove, the smell of her paints. She sings songs from Chicago, and brings to life the northern lights on the canvas, the wolves, the scenes. Her songs, the guitar she plays. She croons about damaged men and neglected love. Country and blues, telling me about the costume she has for her next bar song night, her singing partner will be a Patsy Cline look alike. Anne makes Saskatoon jam, tucks me in on the couch, and tells me stories. We walk along the trails on the acridge, Anne tells me about plants we see, like the pea vine. She encourages me to climb the tallest trees. She hears me sing and sees promise, talent, a dream waiting to happen. She gets me into theater, one of the greatest gifts I've ever received. She brings me flowers to my shows and I always find her in the big crowds. I remember the painting, the beautiful field with billowing clouds lazily crossing the sky in the wind. It was in the apartment that she shared with her boyfriend. He had an awful temper and it took more than it should have for Anne to finally leave him. She stayed with us for a while, a few lovely months before leaving. It was a few years after she disappeared before I found the demo CD of Anne singing her country and blues. Sometime I just sit and play it on repeat, its a treasure, a gateway to all those memories. Memories of a proud and beautiful woman who helped shift my life in the direction of art and creation. A woman who was there when I was an infant and when I was a child. I love Anne and the memories she left in her wake. Anne came and left but I remember everything.

0

Jan 6, 2014

Jan 6, 2014 at 10:43 PM UTC

kathleen-m-1

Anne came and left but I remember everything. (Rough draft)

Anne came and left but I remember the sweet cider and the wood stove, the smell of her paints. She sings songs from Chicago, and brings to life the northern lights on the canvas, the wolves, the scenes. Her songs, the guitar she plays. She croons about damaged men and neglected love. Country and blues, telling me about the costume she has for her next bar song night, her singing partner will be a Patsy Cline look alike. Anne makes Saskatoon jam, tucks me in on the couch, and tells me stories. We walk along the trails on the acridge, Anne tells me about plants we see, like the pea vine. She encourages me to climb the tallest trees. She hears me sing and sees promise, talent, a dream waiting to happen. She gets me into theater, one of the greatest gifts I've ever received. She brings me flowers to my shows and I always find her in the big crowds. I remember the painting, the beautiful field with billowing clouds lazily crossing the sky in the wind. It was in the apartment that she shared with her boyfriend. He had an awful temper and it took more than it should have for Anne to finally leave him. She stayed with us for a while, a few lovely months before leaving. It was a few years after she disappeared before I found the demo CD of Anne singing her country and blues. Sometime I just sit and play it on repeat, its a treasure, a gateway to all those memories. Memories of a proud and beautiful woman who helped shift my life in the direction of art and creation. A woman who was there when I was an infant and when I was a child. I love Anne and the memories she left in her wake. Anne came and left but I remember everything.

8

Saskatoon girls in their cleats coalesce To hit hits and spit spits by the Legion Hall. As custom, proceeding the evening’s last call good-games are exchanged for high-fives abreast. Scratching their bites they squint up to the blue, towelling sweat from the backs of their necks, they know Jesus is there to see them home. He's in their lemon lime gatorade too, He supervises all of the pickup trucks Country on the dial and dust-dull chrome In Canada’s rectangular mid-midwest, defined and deformed by the moistureless squall that carries the scent of the cereal sprawl and it’s cinder-grit **** to the pink of the chest.

0

Mar 20, 2015

Mar 20, 2015 at 7:10 PM UTC

laura-jane

Minor League Sonnet

Saskatoon girls in their cleats coalesce To hit hits and spit spits by the Legion Hall. As custom, proceeding the evening’s last call good-games are exchanged for high-fives abreast. Scratching their bites they squint up to the blue, towelling sweat from the backs of their necks, they know Jesus is there to see them home. He's in their lemon lime gatorade too, He supervises all of the pickup trucks Country on the dial and dust-dull chrome In Canada’s rectangular mid-midwest, defined and deformed by the moistureless squall that carries the scent of the cereal sprawl and it’s cinder-grit **** to the pink of the chest.

14

There was another brother whom history forgets And though born a fisherman, he preferred other nets. The coterie of rink rats who lived on the Left Coast Thought he was sine qua non, and they would often boast *He’s better than his brother Joe, Es-ki-mo Di-mag-gi-o.* His slapper had heat to make a goalie wet himself; His wrister was money either five-hole or top-shelf. After the goaltender felt another puck **** by, He’d curse and bang the crossbar as fans took up the cry *He’s better than his brother Joe, Es-ki-mo Di-mag-gi-o.* He dominated rinks out West like no other man From Calgary to Saskatoon, Fresno to Spokane. He’d hat tricks in Winnipeg, six-point games in Moose Jaw Moving scribes to hackneyed verse written in fits of awe. *He’s better than his brother Joe, Es-ki-mo Di-mag-gi-o.* Though the man was a fine skater, strong, agile and fleet The slightest flaw in the ice caused anguish to his feet And he would scold arena crews—*What’d you call this mush? ‘Tis nothing but chips and ruts; I’d rather skate on slush!* (More prickly than his brother Joe, Es-ki-mo Di-mag-gio.) After one match in Oakland on ice unduly rough He stormed into the locker room, shouting ‘Nuff’s enough! He didn’t change his sweater as he stormed out the door, Hopping on a trolley car, to be seen never more (He’s a bit loony, don’t you know. Es-ki-mo Di-mag-gi-o.) He was sighted in the Yukon, once or perhaps twice Engaged in some mad mission to find the perfect ice. Neither man nor beast can say what became of this fool, Though bits of skate lace appear in petrified bear stool (Tastes better than his brother Joe? Es-ki-mo Di-mag-gi-o.)

0

Mar 29, 2017

Mar 29, 2017 at 10:10 AM UTC

wk-kortas

The Likely Apocryphal (And Utterly Pointless) Ballad Of Eskimo Dimaggio

There was another brother whom history forgets And though born a fisherman, he preferred other nets. The coterie of rink rats who lived on the Left Coast Thought he was sine qua non, and they would often boast *He’s better than his brother Joe, Es-ki-mo Di-mag-gi-o.* His slapper had heat to make a goalie wet himself; His wrister was money either five-hole or top-shelf. After the goaltender felt another puck **** by, He’d curse and bang the crossbar as fans took up the cry *He’s better than his brother Joe, Es-ki-mo Di-mag-gi-o.* He dominated rinks out West like no other man From Calgary to Saskatoon, Fresno to Spokane. He’d hat tricks in Winnipeg, six-point games in Moose Jaw Moving scribes to hackneyed verse written in fits of awe. *He’s better than his brother Joe, Es-ki-mo Di-mag-gi-o.* Though the man was a fine skater, strong, agile and fleet The slightest flaw in the ice caused anguish to his feet And he would scold arena crews—*What’d you call this mush? ‘Tis nothing but chips and ruts; I’d rather skate on slush!* (More prickly than his brother Joe, Es-ki-mo Di-mag-gio.) After one match in Oakland on ice unduly rough He stormed into the locker room, shouting ‘Nuff’s enough! He didn’t change his sweater as he stormed out the door, Hopping on a trolley car, to be seen never more (He’s a bit loony, don’t you know. Es-ki-mo Di-mag-gi-o.) He was sighted in the Yukon, once or perhaps twice Engaged in some mad mission to find the perfect ice. Neither man nor beast can say what became of this fool, Though bits of skate lace appear in petrified bear stool (Tastes better than his brother Joe? Es-ki-mo Di-mag-gi-o.)

36

What odd creatures we be in binary we breathe these two feet a lifetime of skinned knees propped up suspended beneath eternities a rhythm alternating heaviness upon such a wild sphere we danced like infants when we danced together we danced the moon we danced quadruped this heart at times plural often lost we carry always a contained ocean a single fragment a measure of the sudden and the certain a rhythm alternating heaviness we wander we heard we learn extended we fall restless the universe and knowing it we are made up of everything and we are incomplete ever beholding the beginning ever beholden the end everyone belonging the choice and the inconsequential in between the road and the alone the time we make home a rhythm alternating infinities and I dance incomplete for your eyes and your feet missing your breath while I breathe my heavier pulse my bent light and our ocean sleeps in streets in the puddles of a weeping sky breaking concrete

0

Apr 27, 2015

Apr 27, 2015 at 5:24 AM UTC

Squigs

For a girl I once knew in Saskatoon...

What odd creatures we be in binary we breathe these two feet a lifetime of skinned knees propped up suspended beneath eternities a rhythm alternating heaviness upon such a wild sphere we danced like infants when we danced together we danced the moon we danced quadruped this heart at times plural often lost we carry always a contained ocean a single fragment a measure of the sudden and the certain a rhythm alternating heaviness we wander we heard we learn extended we fall restless the universe and knowing it we are made up of everything and we are incomplete ever beholding the beginning ever beholden the end everyone belonging the choice and the inconsequential in between the road and the alone the time we make home a rhythm alternating infinities and I dance incomplete for your eyes and your feet missing your breath while I breathe my heavier pulse my bent light and our ocean sleeps in streets in the puddles of a weeping sky breaking concrete

44

Why oh why oh why does my tummy feel like its upside down today I am lonely for him I am sick There is this other guy that wants me but he's a dog no good. It's best if I leave for awhile Go stay in town with my sister then again I'd leave to Regina Cause I'm lonely And I'm really ashamed Maybe I'll go back to Saskatoon visit my dad I got till January to go where ever I want to go January, I'm starting a course in Melfort with my mum Make some money and buy a truck, tv, game console, and beautiful good looking clothes I will treat myself to a new life. That course is for unemployment work or something like that. I can travel with my mum all the time. I'll get over him I had a miscarriage I'm sorry to those mothers out their I wasn't ready not with him I loved him Our relationship was falling apart. it was the best choice to separate I'm to young to be with him I can't tell it's hard to explain I am looking forward. I could say that I **** some bad paths in my life. I'm more sober than ever today I just want to leave Lost today though. I pray for myself and struggles to be taken care of, and for peace & happiness. Forgive me dear Creator, And Lord Jesus Christ for my wrong doings. Amen. I love myself I just feel so lonely...

0

Sep 16, 2015

Sep 16, 2015 at 3:58 PM UTC

Willow-Unfound

loniness is with me today.

Why oh why oh why does my tummy feel like its upside down today I am lonely for him I am sick There is this other guy that wants me but he's a dog no good. It's best if I leave for awhile Go stay in town with my sister then again I'd leave to Regina Cause I'm lonely And I'm really ashamed Maybe I'll go back to Saskatoon visit my dad I got till January to go where ever I want to go January, I'm starting a course in Melfort with my mum Make some money and buy a truck, tv, game console, and beautiful good looking clothes I will treat myself to a new life. That course is for unemployment work or something like that. I can travel with my mum all the time. I'll get over him I had a miscarriage I'm sorry to those mothers out their I wasn't ready not with him I loved him Our relationship was falling apart. it was the best choice to separate I'm to young to be with him I can't tell it's hard to explain I am looking forward. I could say that I **** some bad paths in my life. I'm more sober than ever today I just want to leave Lost today though. I pray for myself and struggles to be taken care of, and for peace & happiness. Forgive me dear Creator, And Lord Jesus Christ for my wrong doings. Amen. I love myself I just feel so lonely...

45

I ****** up along the way to a successful life, till the alcohol got to me. I'm back, it feels good to be back. :) I fell in love for a year or less, guess we weren't happy; he wasn't happy, but I'm happy I'm in the big city of Saskatoon. I left the rez last week on Wednesday. I left behind my love, and my two boys(dogs). I've been busy, keeping out of trouble sort of. Sure am glad to be back on hello poetry thought I forgot my password n email lol. Enjoy I be writing.

0

Apr 25, 2015

Apr 25, 2015 at 9:18 PM UTC

Willow-Unfound

got to quit drinking n getting high to see my life clearly.

I ****** up along the way to a successful life, till the alcohol got to me. I'm back, it feels good to be back. :) I fell in love for a year or less, guess we weren't happy; he wasn't happy, but I'm happy I'm in the big city of Saskatoon. I left the rez last week on Wednesday. I left behind my love, and my two boys(dogs). I've been busy, keeping out of trouble sort of. Sure am glad to be back on hello poetry thought I forgot my password n email lol. Enjoy I be writing.

3

**** y'all. Everythin's spining. Leaves flying. Round and round. Sadness floating. Still here. **** good it was. Real lucky I was. Now scares me. Forget it ! Remember the funky happy song! What are you waiting for ? **** you all off, and just leave me alone. Trumpets are singing. Time to be sad. Someone ? A Dagger please ! I'd like to stab my belly. Maybe that way this feeling will fade away ? An eraser for the past ? The asylum is over there dude. What about you, always looking towards the future ? Hug it. I know !! I know I should. But Past is pulling me back. That **** ******* feeling. Don't need it to survive. But is the salt of existence. The burger of the life. Give me the pepper would ya' ? (the audience is invited to laugh.) How did she move on ? A guess ? Wisdom ? Or perhaps early Alzheimer. Just kidding. Maybe she didn't move on. Managing only to close her eyes. Oh come on shut up will ya' ?? Of course she moved on ! What did you expect exept Schwepps ?? Snow falling. Negative things ramping. Sun rising. Positive things shining. You don't live all year with snow. Unless you're from Saskatoon. Or maybe Siberia too. The burger, waiting for salt, increasingly covered by falling snow, got pepper instead. Lol are you mad ? Of course not ? And you ? Neither am I. And what about the other guy over there, with the black hat ? Dunnow. Looks like he's looking for salt. Yeah, but seems he doesn't know how to catch it. Yeah, he thinks snow is falling upon him, but it's salt. Poor him. What he is looking for is all around him. **** it.

0

Mar 19, 2017

Mar 19, 2017 at 7:51 AM UTC

niels-land

Snow or Salt ?

**** y'all. Everythin's spining. Leaves flying. Round and round. Sadness floating. Still here. **** good it was. Real lucky I was. Now scares me. Forget it ! Remember the funky happy song! What are you waiting for ? **** you all off, and just leave me alone. Trumpets are singing. Time to be sad. Someone ? A Dagger please ! I'd like to stab my belly. Maybe that way this feeling will fade away ? An eraser for the past ? The asylum is over there dude. What about you, always looking towards the future ? Hug it. I know !! I know I should. But Past is pulling me back. That **** ******* feeling. Don't need it to survive. But is the salt of existence. The burger of the life. Give me the pepper would ya' ? (the audience is invited to laugh.) How did she move on ? A guess ? Wisdom ? Or perhaps early Alzheimer. Just kidding. Maybe she didn't move on. Managing only to close her eyes. Oh come on shut up will ya' ?? Of course she moved on ! What did you expect exept Schwepps ?? Snow falling. Negative things ramping. Sun rising. Positive things shining. You don't live all year with snow. Unless you're from Saskatoon. Or maybe Siberia too. The burger, waiting for salt, increasingly covered by falling snow, got pepper instead. Lol are you mad ? Of course not ? And you ? Neither am I. And what about the other guy over there, with the black hat ? Dunnow. Looks like he's looking for salt. Yeah, but seems he doesn't know how to catch it. Yeah, he thinks snow is falling upon him, but it's salt. Poor him. What he is looking for is all around him. **** it.

54

**** y'all. Everythin's spining. Leaves flying. Round and round. Sadness floating. Still here. **** good it was. Real lucky I was. Now scares me. Forget it ! Remember the funky happy song! What are you waiting for ? **** you all off, and just leave me alone. Trumpets are singing. Time to be sad. Someone ? A Dagger please ! I'd like to stab my belly. Maybe that way this feeling will fade away ? An eraser for the past ? The asylum is over there dude. What about you, always looking towards the future ? Hug it. I know !! I know I should. But Past is pulling me back. That **** ******* feeling. Don't need it to survive. But is the salt of existence. The burger of the life. Give me the pepper would ya' ? (the audience is invited to laugh.) How did she move on ? A guess ? Wisdom ? Or perhaps early Alzheimer. Just kidding. Maybe she didn't move on. Managing only to close her eyes. Oh come on shut up will ya' ?? Of course she moved on ! What did you expect exept Schwepps ?? Snow falling. Negative things ramping. Sun rising. Positive things shining. You don't live all year with snow. Unless you're from Saskatoon. Or maybe Siberia too. The burger, waiting for salt, increasingly covered by falling snow, got pepper instead. Lol are you mad ? Of course not ? And you ? Neither am I. And what about the other guy over there, with the black hat ? Dunnow. Looks like he's looking for salt. Yeah, but seems he doesn't know how to catch it. Yeah, he thinks snow is falling upon him, but it's salt. Poor him. What he is looking for is all around him. **** it.

0

Mar 22, 2017

Mar 22, 2017 at 11:45 AM UTC

niels-land

Snow or Salt ?

**** y'all. Everythin's spining. Leaves flying. Round and round. Sadness floating. Still here. **** good it was. Real lucky I was. Now scares me. Forget it ! Remember the funky happy song! What are you waiting for ? **** you all off, and just leave me alone. Trumpets are singing. Time to be sad. Someone ? A Dagger please ! I'd like to stab my belly. Maybe that way this feeling will fade away ? An eraser for the past ? The asylum is over there dude. What about you, always looking towards the future ? Hug it. I know !! I know I should. But Past is pulling me back. That **** ******* feeling. Don't need it to survive. But is the salt of existence. The burger of the life. Give me the pepper would ya' ? (the audience is invited to laugh.) How did she move on ? A guess ? Wisdom ? Or perhaps early Alzheimer. Just kidding. Maybe she didn't move on. Managing only to close her eyes. Oh come on shut up will ya' ?? Of course she moved on ! What did you expect exept Schwepps ?? Snow falling. Negative things ramping. Sun rising. Positive things shining. You don't live all year with snow. Unless you're from Saskatoon. Or maybe Siberia too. The burger, waiting for salt, increasingly covered by falling snow, got pepper instead. Lol are you mad ? Of course not ? And you ? Neither am I. And what about the other guy over there, with the black hat ? Dunnow. Looks like he's looking for salt. Yeah, but seems he doesn't know how to catch it. Yeah, he thinks snow is falling upon him, but it's salt. Poor him. What he is looking for is all around him. **** it.

54