"snub" poems
A fueling, flashing fulgent, furnace, fulgurous, frothy, fumes and feathery flakes,
I do not speak of waves of snow, hoary frost, or ice, a cold gelare or even frozen lakes!
Formidable, furrows, fructifying, functioning fruition to foremost fondly found a flaming,
I revel not in such destruction but choices for my naming!
For flowers flow fields forever, forswearing funneling fjords finitely, fire fray’s forests furthermost,
Instructing in the arts of language, for I am your gracious host!
Fakir formulates factious forms fading flummoxed into fury, a fugacious fusible and furtive fleeting feigning furiosity,
A deep ditch dug, tight as pug, wrapped blanket snub though not a flub, all perspicacity!
Finds frosty frore a frozen freezing faction for fusty flaming feasance,
Fomorian fantasy of formidable faggoting, facient up to fancying, fancying, furnaced flesh fluidity finds itself factitivity, facets for fabulists from the faint familiarity,
Relating cold to heat as such, requires but a human touch, apologize I do you see for all my clueless severity!
Fans of all the falconry, who fallow fields of family, falter for a fallacy, falling into infamy as forgone flame frontogenesis, fatigues a Faustian felony, for which fate finds is fastigiated foolery, febrile features featly and yet furiously, favonian fear of fellowship fiendishly, figures foal to fatherly, finally fiddle flinchingly, although not so too furtively;
I finagle in my filigree!
Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 1:13 PM UTC
/*h'americans can call it a striptease, but in amsterdam, with legal self-employed prostitutes? we call it a cocktease: because you'd really visit amsterdam for the **** these days?*
isabella: the french psychology
exchange student -
hung up on her ex-boyfriend -
really in anime movies -
and that american i competed
with on an edinburgh pub-crawl
for freshers -
and lost my virginity to -
probably the only time
i had the ontological parameters
of your atypical man -
"hunting", competing -
oh so, so, enthralling....
(spot the irony mingling with
ridicule, when people "know"
how the modern man behaves,
with his caveman predecessors:
dragging a woman
by the hair type of cartoonish
depiction) -
the other fun time i've had
encounters with h'americans
was in Soho -
two colts, texan tourists asking
for directions,
or where this or that place was...
it almost warmed my heart
hearing that twang
of the tongue...
perhaps someone from arizona?
that has that - "mid" western
twang of the tongue
added to the bite...
snub the Boston high-mind
eloquence, like:
you really really want
to sound european...
never mind...
people say that water is tasteless...
hmm...
so last night i was heating
up one arm of scissors...
and sniffing it...
then licked the other arm of the scissor...
what's in water again?
minerals... a subtle presence...
magnesium, potassium, iron...
you name it...
so yeah... water is... "tasteless"...
eisenzahn that i am.
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 12:04 PM UTC
SOLDIER OF FORTUNE
Book down both my idleness and memories,
Come the 52nd summer, through ship to ship
The last sail from city to city, the perturb To Contempt
Thy will at time remain snub, hath my time being
Hoaxed with an irony to bare my dream, for my family,
my slug Hit the deepest of my wish, with an arm to an
Armor, though my gentle verse never indulge volitionary,
What’s Worth in me hath grown, neither my dream
Extant, to whom shall I sell? Thy portrait reckon without
understanding The captivity my dreams, to whom
shall I cry My bootless fate?, Hast thee forsaken me?
Thou art trouble me not , Thee Succeed anyone
In an unflagging quest for a word, though art’s will
For sinners, saint and believers never change
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 5:25 AM UTC
Often does your Purpose seek to Belong
Thoughts your Rebellious Clouds can independ
But just recall your Coins; And after long
You'll realise the Worth which you will spend
Maybe you Decided; Or maybe not
Plans which the Architect will rennovate
It's clearly shown by the Jersey you got
How you love to be an Otaku's Date
I'll complain to the Pug; And must he snub
Even if his Language you will confuse
And why he chose to reissue a ****
When all he could do is ask for a fuse.
Still a Nice Wear you so haply display
Hoping such Good Colours will never fade.
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 8:51 PM UTC
i enter the river
later the woods
tour natures suicide spots
snub them for a man made bridge
snub the bridge
because i find life pretty today
too pretty to bend deaths ear
and suspend
Apr 13, 2024
Apr 13, 2024 at 11:38 AM UTC
The Avenger from Oklahoma
she was a doll faced little lady
looking so demure looking so sweet
she would bat her eyes and smile
and then knock you off your feet
you see she was the avenger
looking for men who had done wrong
she carried a snub-nosed 38
and she would blow you away for a song
seems her sister had been slighted
left all alone and broken hearted
threw herself out of the window
and Annie finished what she started
she found the ******* who slighted her sis
made him fall for her with her magic lips
she shot him in his own bedroom
and walked away swinging her hips
but that wasn't the end of her journey
she decided revenge her life's passion
making heart breakers pay the price
working as a model in design and fashion
she would lure in all the playboys
make them melt with her charms
and just when they were ready to cash in
she'd put a bullet in each of his arms
she would disappear into the night
keeping the cops off her trail
her legend went on for over 20 years
most swearing it was just a fantasy tale
Gomer Lepoet...
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 10:59 PM UTC
I seen a empty bottle in the trash.
There was also napkins next to the trash.
I wondered how many people use these napkins..
It's stated recycle. Recycle what ? Trees? Regurgitated garbage we eat over and over again ? How do we still have a mountain of trash. Plato and Socrates knew something. Perhaps eject it to space. Maybe we can **** our ozone if we just burn it. Cause earth swallows anything including pasts and futures. Who's in control of Earth's health. Cause we **** on it. And that bottle... Of course is full of **** and vinegar. Release all tension and let's rise to the stratosphere. Floating cities above Earth's gravity.. no pulling of our new system down. Elisium on the moon. Perhaps a ride in a roller coaster to the darkside will thrill you more. Maybe it's not as cold and chilling as we thought.. and Earth's warmth and feelings will make a change like a landmass arise or one to fall..
I've fell many times. Now I've married the other half of my mind.
People climbing out of oceans asking about ships.. but my dreamscape makes me the hero in my pirate flag informaniac boom. Cannons and truth. My voice in thought and control of the room.
I blow horns like harps of trains and riots of mind boggling facts. I am and Lord knows Jesus will help me like a snub nose I tuck. I'll play gangster while my inner ghost fires the bullets..
I'm not violent as what sin runs in his blood. I'm just everything else and it's time I leave after passing and giving peace to my son. His family is mine and we deserve heaven.. same as 144 thousand.. all for order of the Bright Apollo flights and fry minds in a hystaria historical society of terror. Longer days hotter with white out snow. Raining tears and explicit when our children explore.
Yes I ********** .. it's better then the alternative.. making more humans live... rebirth and love now Is in a different narrative.
Aug 20, 2019
Aug 20, 2019 at 4:24 AM UTC
Standing by the soup kitchen,
Wrapped up in freezing cold.
Not very old in numbers,
but feeling rather old.
The townsfolk snub him,
They ignore his missus.
His fingers sparkle blue and red,
No magic lurks within.
His blanket's rather itchy.
the people passing by,
are either numb or ******
get a job, they shout for sport.
their coffee cup, their only support.
It beggars belief that the poor souls get grief.
There for the grace of God go I.
(c) Livvi
Dec 18, 2016
Dec 18, 2016 at 5:03 PM UTC
This is for the residents who remember
And for the transplants who
Have yet to be informed
But have got an inkling
Burque has gone from
Bustling to busted
And back again
Growing up in the 80’s
I learned about the
Varying degrees of “sick”
As my dad pointed out
The pekid pachucos perusing
Pharmacy isles
Attempting to purchase
Cough syrup with codeine
In the evenings
Driving home down Central
I would ceremoniously
Count hookers
My parents would
Precariously pack heat
In the trunk of our car
Or even in my mom’s special ***** pack
With the hidden compartment
For her .38 snub nose
Because you never know
Who will be in your home
When you arrive
That’s a given
When flop houses are
Interwoven with prime real estate
And barrio boundaries
Border the bourgeois’ bungalows
And Huning’s Castles
And residents rarely recognize
Or realize
That aside from the locals
The European Jews
Was the only group gutsy enough
To settle here
And create commerce
Despite risks of being raided
By Apaches
And they reaped the benefits
Off Roma and Marquette
Because the rewards
Turned out to be greater than
The risks
And up North
Where Sephardic turned Crypto
Conversions to Catholicism
Kept the Messiah’s spirit alive
But in basements
They still did Chi fives!
I was saddened in middle school
When I realized
That many of our parents
Were too ashamed of our roots
To teach us Spanish
And our
Schools ****** so severely
That most of us
Didn’t learn English either
But hey –
All you need to
Communicate while cruising
Are cat calls
And the thumping boom
Of the bass in the tubes
And the hydraulic drop
When they hit
The hot spots
From Tingley, Kit Carson and
Central to Copper
Each kid dreams that
His ride
Will be the show stopper
I could rant and rave
And rattle off for days
But bottom line –
We have the most
Curious state
With mysterious qualities
And in-depth histories
But most of us are
More concerned with
Bud Light
And Biscochitos
Con Manteca
Because it just tastes great!
Nov 23, 2012
Nov 23, 2012 at 2:39 AM UTC
The thousand, thousand faces
Of pours, of hair, of skin
With glancing gazes - gracious
And a wealth of words - within
Some smile through their veer
Some simply snub but mostly nice
Some in slumber, some in fear
Some too busy with a vice
I am exactly as we all are
The mumbling, melting snowflakes
As I sink and swim among the stars
To avoid all massive mistakes
Onward stranger, to better things
May our minor encounter snap no strings
Aug 29, 2016
Aug 29, 2016 at 4:05 PM UTC
Deaths Of 2013
My third year doing this.
Paul Walker, Texas ranger,
driving fast leads to danger.
Matt Osbourne was Doink The Clown,
Paul Bearer always wore a frown.
Dennis Farina and James Gandolfini,
always played a mobster meany.
Peter O'Toole, famous actor,
Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher.
President Nelson Mandela,
Dennis Burkley, was a famous fat actor fella.
Lou Reed, is now on the wild side,
took all the colored girls for a ride.
Conrad Bain and Bonnie Franklin,
tv actors who had white skin.
Paul Blair and Stan The Man,
playing baseball, when they can.
Marcia Wallace and Lisa Robin Kelly,
both had ***** that bounced like jelly.
Tom Clancy wrote famous books,
not much on having good looks.
Cory Montieth and Patti Page,
one died young, other of old age.
Jean Stapleton, was Edith Bunker,
Archie always put her in the dumper.
Pat Summerall and Deacon Jones,
played football and broke some bones.
Dr. Joyce Brothers and Pauline Phillips,
they both gave good and bad tips.
Ray Manzarek, from The Doors,
Jeff Hanneman knew all Slayers chords.
Chrissy Amphlett, liked to touch herself,
Caleb Moore's trophies are on his shelf.
Mindy McCready and George Jones,
both hit those country tones.
Chris Kelly from Kris Kross,
Ed Koch is a New York loss.
David Frost and Roger Ebert,
always had words to insert.
Anneitte Funicello from Mickey Mouse Club,
Eydie Gorme almost got a snub.
Jonathan Winters, was very funny,
to come from Mork's egg, made him money.
If you don't know who these people are,
look them up, internet not very far.
For the ones that I missed,
please don't get to ******
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 12:46 AM UTC
Driving Ms. Daisy
Absolutely drives me crazy.
Many a driver have come and vanished by noon.
Her cruel words are nothing but her ****** armour.
People hate her,
and she appears to love it.
Petite old Ms Daisy,
seems like she’ll forever be alone.
Today she asked of me to drive faster,
“I want to feel the wind against my face.
Take it up a notch”, she said.
“12miles/per hour,” she wailed.
Snub the rooster and wax the pole,
driving Ms Daisy is slow.
Really slow.
At times I fear that the machine may fail,
That the engine may even stop from being so frail.
Taking Ms Daisy someplace is like going nowhere,
because you aren’t moving enough to arrive anywhere.
Yesterday was the worst day ever;
her constant yelling and biting remarks
that only aimed to infuriate.
But Ms Daisy is always classy.
Her proud air of 16th century British Royalty.
Even her perfumed handkerchiefs spell eloquence.
But still, one day I wish she’ll suffer a heart attack,
Or maybe a mild stroke.
But then I wonder out loud,
“Who else will hire me and pay me this load?”
I may moan and rumble
but I am forever stuck with Ms Daisy.
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 2:32 PM UTC
Everyone...
needs a place to belong
something, or somewhere
That is uniquely
there own...
Safety...
after a hard day
where the world
is simply
not allowed...
Surrounded...
with familiar objects
and their own
sense of style...
There's something
very comforting
in knowing ...
nothing is expected
right now...
There are some...
that have never known
anything but...
and snub their nose
at the importance...
Taking for granted...
their sense of belonging
and the comfort...
that comes
when one is at ease...
Others...
take their space
wherever they can find it...
Solace...
on a stoop or a curb...
It's a modern tragedy...
that this need
is taken for granted
or worse...
over priced
out of greed...
Everyone needs ...
to feel like they belong
to reset and gather
to relax and restore
peace...
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 5:55 AM UTC
Revolution the course to freedom
Revolution a season of war
A season our lands are watered with our blood shed
A season people are starved and stabbed in the untilled field
Revolution a season of blood flow which end with the interminable joy of the nation
We are the people you make fun of because we cannot speak your accents
We are the people who dose your slave works,cleans your messes after party
We are the people who pays with our lives during festival to fight to death
You laugh at us
You snub us
Because we are nothing wicked like you
Your greed would make an end to everything we have and everything we ever lived for
This is not your land,you are a total stranger
We will not allow you to deprive us of our fathers inheritance yes we will not allow you to take what is rightfully ours
We will not pay the price to your greed
We will stay, we will not go away from our land
Our forefathers have lived here since before the days,yet you want what is rightfully ours
The only thing you could offer is brutal ******
Death is the only thing we can understand
You make us lots of promise
Yet you offer us starvation
Your promises are empty like the belly of our children
We will fight and shed our bloods for the course of our freedom
Our blood will water the land for we will not give up without a fight
Yes we will not give up without a fight
Arise oh ye youth of slumbers
Arise oh ye prisoners of wants
For the reason to revolt is at our course
Let's fight for what is rightfully our
Revolution the course to freedom
A course to the normal world
Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 6:16 PM UTC
Love is stupid,
love is blind,
it is selfish,
jealous
and unkind.
Love is abusive,
love can hurt
it will scratch,
and pound
into the dirt.
Love will snub you,
call you dumb,
and alienate you
from everyone.
Aug 16, 2010
Aug 16, 2010 at 3:25 PM UTC
Love:
laying bricks in a line
or a least a lie with N
monotony. Standing in line, at the end,
until the begin
NEXT!
...ing.
Pretending, that was doing something.
Like a verb, perturbing, unsettling.
Cold air is causing nerve ending
stand
NEXT!
...up. Back of the neck rub
Trapped like a spider in a covered tub.
Seems wide till the world opens wide and there's a snub
from the passing yacht club as it crashes into the hub.
Now aren't you glad you got grub instead of a ticket
NEXT!
...stub? Chop and bop.
Hop on the bed, called Dr. Suess' pop.
Lets swap places. Straighten the tie, I am a flop
fop. Harvesting their crop of heads. Onomatopoeia plop
NEXT
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 1:19 AM UTC
We got those 1800s vibes
Men with moustaches
Women with moustaches
You ready to Hunt for your lives?
Get ready cos the Showdown's begun
Men, Women, lock 'n' load up your guns
Snub nose for up close, it's a must
Duck low take it slow, keep mouths shut
Wear you out
'Til your absorbed by the mud
Extract with a bounty, that's how it's won
Countin' up our rewards, no need to respawn
We've still air in our lungs.
It's that time again, we close to sittin' pretty
Lord I pray for courage, so light that soul fire in me
Stacks of crucifixes, so we don't run out quickly
Hang it loosely round my neck should it get dark and dingy
Ward off the devils spirits, or beasts made from three sixes
Martini firepower, and no I don't mean drinkin'
Sometimes be something sicker, for demons I be killing
I'm off to hell and back, to stop em from existing...
Get ready cos the Showdown's begun
Men, Women, lock 'n' load up your guns
Snub nose for up close, it's a must
Duck low take it slow, keep mouths shut
Wear you out
'Til your absorbed by the mud
Extract with a bounty, that's how it's won
Countin' up our rewards, no need to respawn
We've still air in our lungs.
Guess its our turn now, y'all ready for a feud
Ain't no stopping this crowd, we're simply too imbued
That cross around your neck, its just a waste of fuel
The venom flowing in us means conditions won't improve
We'll just keep on marching, until you're twice removed
This is our land you're farming, the boss is not amused
The biggest baddest of us here, do this **** just for fun
You'll never take us all something wicked this way comes
Get ready cos the Showdown's begun
Men, Women, lock 'n' load up your guns
Snub nose for up close, it's a must
Duck low take it slow, keep mouths shut
Wear you out
'Til your absorbed by the mud
Extract with a bounty, that's how it's won
Countin' up our rewards, no need to respawn
We've still air in our lungs.
Get ready cos the Showdown's begun
Men, Women, lock and load what you want
Get ready cos the Showdown's begun
Men, Women, lock and load what you want
Get ready cos the Showdown's begun
Men, Women, lock and load what you want
Apr 18, 2022
Apr 18, 2022 at 6:11 AM UTC
Of any color or creed,
Of status high or low,
Treacherous minds,
Heartless brain,
Venomous looks,
Ruthless tongue,
Heinous hands,
Rudderless feet,
Intense dubious desire,
Conspire, collude,
Often pay deaf ear
Snub wiser counsel of one’s mind
And skim out criminals
How to spurn viral thoughts;
A major challenge confronting humanity
Of a confounded nation
That needs vaccination.
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 11:01 AM UTC
Here in this dim, dull, double-bedded room,
I play the father to a brace of boys,
Ailing but apt for every sort of noise,
Bedfast but brilliant yet with health and bloom.
Roden, the Irishman, is 'sieven past,'
Blue-eyed, snub-nosed, chubby, and fair of face.
Willie's but six, and seems to like the place,
A cheerful little collier to the last.
They eat, and laugh, and sing, and fight, all day;
All night they sleep like dormice. See them play
At Operations:- Roden, the Professor,
Saws, lectures, takes the artery up, and ties;
Willie, self-chloroformed, with half-shut eyes,
Holding the limb and moaning--Case and Dresser.
1.5k
Of any color or creed,
Of status high or low,
Treacherous minds,
Heartless brain,
Venomous looks,
Ruthless tongue,
Heinous hands,
Rudderless feet,
Intense dubious desire,
Conspire, collude,
Often pay deaf ear
Snub wiser counsel of one’s mind
And skim out criminals
How to spurn viral thoughts;
A major challenge confronting humanity
Of a confounded nation
That needs vaccination.
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 7:01 AM UTC
Paper hats and cigarettes
Marlboro Reds and french fries
Long road trips with windows down
Let the smoke get into your eyes
Bathroom stops at old school shops
With that filter snub in your hand
One more drag and that is that
If only, wouldn’t that be grand?
Oh, no matter what, how much I try
Is it worth the tears that I spill?
See embers glow cherry-red
You know those **** things ****
I see you turn your head to
Take another poisoned draw
“I’ll be done, real soon” he says
It was his tragic flaw
For a real long while I was just a child
I could barely tie my own shoes.
But that was then and this is now
No exception and no excuse
Oh, no matter what, how much I tried
Was it worth the tears that I spilled?
See embers glowin’cherry-red
You knew those **** things killed.
Paper hats and cigarettes.
Marlboro Reds and French fries
I hope you see how I grew up
With the blackened tears I now cry
Jan 31, 2011
Jan 31, 2011 at 5:30 AM UTC
You entered the bar
at the base camp
outside Tangiers
the morning sun was out
like a fresh orange
on a blue plate of sky
some old Moroccan
was in a corner
playing a guitar
your mouth felt like
the inside
of an Arab’s sandal
Mamie was sitting
at the bar
on a wonky stool
you woke up then?
she said
after last night
thought you’d be out
for the count all day
no I can take
a good night out
you replied
taking the stool
next to her
and breathing in
the hashish air
and smell of salt
from the beach
the guy behind the bar
asked what you wanted
and you said
*** and coke
and a salad roll
and he went off
and you looked at Mamie
her tight curls
and snub nose
and interesting
fall into me
eyes
what time
did you leave my tent
last night?
you asked
when your tent companion
turned up and almost
got on top of me
ah yes
sorry about that
Will does tend to come
at awkward times
I think he went off
to a trip to Marrakesh
in the yellow
ex army truck
almost crushed me
she said
good while it lasted
then eh?
no it wasn’t
she said
besides you
were out for the count
after we did things
was I?
you know you were
don’t recall a thing
you said
thank you Mr. Romantic
she moaned
o come on Sweet thing
you know it
meant a lot to me
having you near
she looked at
the old Moroccan
playing the guitar
I am glad
he doesn’t sing too
she said
she sipped her Bacardi
and sat silent
the guy brought
your *** and coke
and salad roll
and you began
to eat and sip
can I have some
of your roll?
she asked
sure
you said
and broke off
half of the roll
and gave it to her
thanks
she said and smiled
you felt her knee
touch yours at the bar
naked flesh
on jean cloth
her jean shorts
ended
at her high thigh
you remembered kissing
that thigh
the night before
amongst other things
the smell of her perfume
and the mustiness
of the tent
the faraway voices
and guitar sounds
some party
at the beach
the night before
hoping no scorpion
had crept in
during the day
feeling her
beneath you
and the sound of sea
far off
and sight
of moon’s glow
through tent’s skin
some one sang
another laughed
some one puked up
away off
too much to drink
but you and Mamie
had a good night
you mused
I think.
May 2, 2013
May 2, 2013 at 2:19 AM UTC
Of any color or creed,
Of status high or low,
Treacherous minds,
Heartless brain,
Venomous looks,
Ruthless tongue,
Heinous hands,
Rudderless feet,
Intense dubious desire,
Conspire, collude,
Often pay deaf ear
Snub wiser counsel of one’s mind
And skim out criminals
How to spurn viral thoughts;
A major challenge confronting humanity
Of a confounded nation
That needs vaccination.
Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 9:17 AM UTC
FEAR TO PART...
ASIF SULTAN MATTA
Monday, 28th September 2015
Once more the fear engulfed my heart,
the fear to part, ever abides;
The fear, that makes my nights cry
and quivers within me intense tide;
Once more my eyes may leak the tears
And drown my world, wrench dry inside
shivering usual and rest just rare
Is dread of death or love's chide?
forlorn and fearful seems my fate
no one to share no one is guide.
Should I once more console my wits?
snub the dark and show it sky?
passion to stand and zeal to fight,
but heart is chained and hands tied.
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 12:14 PM UTC