"soco" poems
To it, I've never been.
but I've dreamed of a place where everything
is coated in corn and comfort.
Wished the past had taken me,
can't help but feel it was about my skin.
Cactus candy and cowboy boots.
Zydeco and haunted hotels.
The voodoo Frank sang about in the end.
The horns sound the streets.
Close curtains, be discreet.
Encircle the barest neck,
with colorful beads.
His family reunions
made me realize I'm on my own.
Until I met a prettier soul.
I don't kiss frogs for love.
I forget the ease in slime.
and let the grease define
an unhealthy outlook.
Sip another lime or a sour.
A ginger begs the hour.
Lonely never leaves,
but warmth is a soco shower.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 1:11 AM UTC
Come on over,
and we'll craft a new key to the kingdom,
all I want is to cut the seams,
pulverize the patterns,
rewrite the Hamlets and all the works of Hemingway,
what are you doing now?
nothing?
great.
Come on over,
I have a handle of SoCo,
I know it's your favorite,
we'll shoot the **** and
chitty-chat about how
it's so easy to drink.
Come on over,
and brilliant minds
will strum guitars,
**** ivories,
croon with weary pipes,
all in plain sight.
Come on over,
this world wasn't made for us,
so let's force it into submission
with controversy and batshit revelry.
Let's lay on the carpet,
and swoon to the love that courses
in our veins,
let's help me to the tile
when the evening's endeavors come back up,
let's write a new Odyssey,
let's sing a new American anthem,
let's light the apartment on fire,
let's talk about how badass my girlfriend is,
what are you doing right now?
nothing?
great.
Come on over,
and I'll be your slave.
Whip me with criticism and fright,
I'll give comfort and brighten
the corners,
mix you a drink,
play you a Monk tune,
dance like I invented it,
and make you nostalgic for the 70s
like I lived each millisecond of the decade.
What are you right now?
Nothing?
Let's scare the ******
the politicians,
the folks keeping scores,
the drunkards down the road,
self immolation?
Great.
When you hit the bottom,
come to me,
your world-savvy
Midnight Man.
Jan 1, 2011
Jan 1, 2011 at 8:01 PM UTC
I had my first legal bar experience last night.
I went to Kildaire's Irish Pub in West Chester,
and it was definitely a low key night,
which I liked a lot, because I'm no drinker.
Started it off with a Vegas bomb,
then a Yeager bomb, three red-headed *****
some Soco and lime, two green tea shots,
and ended my drinks with a bud light.
I made it out of the bar without puking,
which completely surprised me...
The most powerful movement I felt though
was through the karaoke machine,
There was a marvelous energy booming
through the bar, whether the singer
was good or terrible everybody enjoyed.
It made me realize that I want to try
something with my poetry... Spoken Word.
Thank you God!
Oct 15, 2012
Oct 15, 2012 at 10:28 AM UTC
two shots of
tequila
a splash of
campari
soco
tanqueray
kalua
amaretto
vermouthy
chambord
lime concentrate
peache schnap-ps
triple sec
cheap-ass *****
malibu
top it off with
soda water
sprite
drink until it's gone
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 1:07 AM UTC
SoCo on a monday night,
Alabama song playing lightly,
Tickle fights and cigarettes.
Feeling electric and wild,
blissful and free.
There may be other people,
but for now it's you and me.
Dec 11, 2012
Dec 11, 2012 at 2:41 PM UTC
It smells of soco in the air.
She gave up her body to preserve her dignity
But in the end, she lost that too.
There is nothing dominant in dominance.
Only preservation
And perpetuation of a dying era.
Unless dominance is dominance.
In which case, bring your pipes.
Pipes, pipes, pipes, pipes, pipes,
A thousand and three pipes
And not a single one of them on key.
You say it doesn't make much sense,
But frankly **** you.”
No one's got a gun to your temple
Praising the ivory role of the natural order.
That theory died out with hanging paper clips
Clinching yellowed notepads in their skinny fists
Shouting praises to Everclear to the heavens.
Just ask Salinger what it means to be expected
And I'll tell you my opinion on life.
Sep 19, 2010
Sep 19, 2010 at 5:16 PM UTC
O pó queima o nariz,
O álcool aquece o corpo,
A música acolhe,
O sangue jorra.
A ultima imagem,
O ultimo cheiro,
O último sentimento,
Dor.
Uma veste de sangue a cobre,
Olhos vermelhos escondem a paranóia,
Um punhal brilhante reflete o medo.
Um soco no espelho,
Um último beijo,
Julieta, Julieta,
Não se vá.
Romeu, Romeu,
Um punhal resolveu,
Piscina escarlate,
Seu sangue é combate.
Veludo frio,
Coração congelado,
Toque caloroso,
Olhar vidrado.
Romeu, Romeu,
Você lembra do dia que ela morreu?
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 2:24 PM UTC
Some days I wake up,
And the rent is due,
The cable is off,
My car won’t start
My job is the one I swore to quite months ago
Nothing can be done till payday
And I don’t care, I got the day off.
I can spend the whole day trying to pickle myself inside a SoCo bottle.
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 2:21 AM UTC
Drinking alone can make for good conversation
New things are learned, said or inferred
Who am I speaking to
and am I heard?
Nature’s beauties surround me
and I’ve killed with neglect
Unintentional
but always aware
My lips tingle and my tongue
writhes, my body breathes in
the expulsion of shelved speakers
and my membranes arouse
because I’m redirected to you
Always to you;
I’d like to hear your voice
but I predict you won’t answer if I call
Following through will result in disappointment
I expected, so why bother?
Predetermination — a convoluted structure
that remains the source of my reflection
And misdirection
There was a rush of
thoughts like rapid waters
straight to my skull, cracking
my will to break like a dam
bursting forth with so much emotion
you will drown in it, even if
you hold your breath to infinity
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 12:48 AM UTC
funny how
a year ago tonight
we danced
to summer wind
and outside songs,
looked at clouded
navy skies and pretended
there were stars.
how young we were,
that summer.
lived and loved
with firey hearts
and wet lips,
shadows holding hands
under street lamps
and fluorescent walmart lights.
fell for you like a stumble
off a cliff and when I
read the freckles across your face
by the light of the moon
and we argued over the existence of
aliens,
look, they're right there
soco amaretto lime,
the anthem of our night time
wanderings through the streets
where we grew up,
tripped over my words
like the curb I couldn't see
in the dark, never been out
this late before.
same time next week?
Aug 17, 2016
Aug 17, 2016 at 2:36 AM UTC
Its Friday night in the ramshackle city
The sweaty bodies writhing to to soco beat
Drugs, Drink and Debauchery and Cigarettes
Let go.
Feb 23, 2018
Feb 23, 2018 at 12:57 PM UTC
Twilight has arrived , driving South into Clayton , Georgia from a day in the mountains of North Carolina . Driving through Cherokee , Soco Falls and Maggie Valley , rolling hills , peaks and valleys , like time itself , but just as beautiful as ever , and as I glance over at you , I treasure our days together for the Sun is setting fast indeed , for you and I .............
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 3:44 PM UTC
When Christ returns from the East 'twould be quite proper indeed that he call upon the mountains of North Carolina as the Holy Platform , Soco Falls most assuredly a replica of the Heavenly Gates , the surrounding colors of the Appalachian woodlands painted by the Angels themselves ..
Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 4:13 PM UTC
during the summer of the worst summer of my life
i found pieces of myself scattered across the kitchen
as i found peace with my mother who put a couple
pieces of lead down her throat
in the moment i found out we replaced our tile with
her blood i added my tears
as i mopped the floor with what remained as a mop stick
with dark hair just like my mother's
my dad moved to New Orleans immediately after
leaving me to attend to the house and what remained of my soul-less sister
who never knew someone quite as weak as our mother
i may have found peace but i don't forgive her for making me wipe up the handle from the frying pan of her blood she made sausage and eggs for us every sunday before we watched the browns
who made us believed we actually wanted to **** ourselves
she actually wanted to **** herself
and the cleveland ******** gave her an excuse to ****** her family
by murdering herself and leaving everyone left in the agony
of wanting to know what we did wrong
my dad never found peace
instead
he found a 19 year old in New Orleans who made him forget each night
when she poured soco down his throat so he can pour himself into her
my sister never found peace
but
she did find a barbie doll set my mother gave her last summer
on her birthday right before we watched the fireworks
i found peace
because i knew i was set up for failure
i found myself
that summer because i knew i'm stronger than 2 adults who raised me
my dad may have found New Orleans
and his sober-less serenity
but i found myself
mopping our blood red tile into the state of oblivion
marking the distance it took from cleveland
to New Orleans
to bring my dad my sister's barbie doll set so he could tell her
barbie isn't our mom now
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 4:18 PM UTC
document the hours passed
with the emptying bourbon glass
you told me that you don’t like bars
so I left in the back seat of your car
I told myself that I wouldn’t drink this much tonight.
but tonight you won’t stop looking at me
you won’t stop tracing my cheek
and I wouldn’t want you to anyways.
I wonder when the neighbors will wake up
will they still have rings of their makeup
pressed onto their lover’s neck?
I thought I wanted to stay 18 forever
but then we wouldn’t have a forever
in the living room, sipping whiskey on your couch
waiting for the world to just slow down.
but if you could stop to listen
you could hear everyone’s existence
balancing delicately on the seconds running by.
our forever is tonight.
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 12:55 AM UTC
Between want and need is compulsion
between you and me there was an explosion
of wanton greed and corrosion
because you wanted me to be frozen
to keep sculpting until I was broken
but once the ice cracked and opened
I was awoken
no longer a token
you wanted me but now you don't so
you take me to your dojo
to tell me it's a no-go
while I scream 'oh no'
and drink a shot of soco
to ponder what I don't know
which is whether you're a want or a need
all I know is I never wanted to bleed.
Jun 29, 2023
Jun 29, 2023 at 1:54 AM UTC
es curioso cómo
hablamos de amor propio
sólo cuando nos dejan de querer
sólo de vez en cuando
pienso para siempre en cuánto
nos cuesta querernos
cuando alguien más nos quiere
más si nos quiere mal,
mas si nos quiere bien
quizás nos contagie querer bien
pero no me termina de pasar
¿hay alguien que quiera bien
si nadie nunca nos quiso bien?
¿cómo querer aprender a querer
si es más fácil desentenderse
y desaparecer
cuando se pone complicado?
y abandonar, antes de
ser abandonado
despertarme absolutamente solo
porque queman los abrazos
y nunca dejo de pensar
en que todos van a irse en cuanto puedan
así que me anclo a cáscaras
dejo la cartera en la puerta
todas las ventanas abiertas
y me dejo querer, quizás
en cuotas de un mes, quizás
si tenés suerte, un poco más
y te digo absolutamente todo de mí
para no decirte nada
no preguntes si no querés darte cuenta
de que no hay nada para decir
o quizás sólo no me interesa que lo sepas
si sólo me interesa tu lengua
no me hace sangrar, pero casi
después de siglos sigo verde
con el cuello violeta sosteniendo tu cabeza
con tus manos en mis tetas
y yo pienso, guau,
quizás sí te quiera
pero re que no
porque no sabés quién soy
y no me interesa lo que sos
afuera de mi imaginario
y sabé que yo estoy siempre
pero nunca estoy
porque no me necesitás
si yo no te necesito
y lo que necesito no me lo podés dar
eventualmente voy a estar bien
voy a saberme conocer
y puede ser que un día te la presente
cuando nazca y tenga nombre
hasta ahora soy un cuerpo
y un conjunto de recuerdos
así que tratame como tal
y no esperes mucho más de mí
¿no es acaso
lo que todos somos en el fondo?
¿está mal no ser nada?
bts - buenas tardes soco
Apr 28, 2019
Apr 28, 2019 at 11:31 AM UTC
*A white oak crowned in gold
Fragments of blue , tuscany sun and
woodland coal
The chill of October searching for exposed skin
Wind whispered nightfall , a shower of
young stars and hickory mannequins , crackling
leaves , wind racked tin and tinkling chimes ,
the creak of the 'vane', owls in flight
Burning leaves , moonlight captivation ,
the taste of dead ripe persimmons , ghostly- antebellum mansions
A bustling Family Dollar , a corner gas station ,
a stray along the tracks , a Ford F-150 with a double
gun rack
Bud Lite for rednecks and Slim-Fast for **** heads
Soco for alkies , wine coolers for purebreds
An empty park , a swing without a rider ,
a waitress takes a break in front of her empty diner* ...
Oct 25, 2017
Oct 25, 2017 at 9:49 PM UTC