"spainish" poems - Hello Poetry

...bobby stole a car george jumped through the open back window we tied robbie up left him on some ones porch were surprized when the spainish people carried him into the house (so much for robbie) we egged chamburg's parents put a box on a porch with john inside rang the doorbell and ran across the street to hide behind a car john jumped out the lady screamed the husband yelled john ran came back the next night attached a long cord to the empty box rang the doorbell.... hang on st. Christopher the moon was never fuller and we all enjoyed a little madness for awhile

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Nov 27, 2018

Nov 27, 2018 at 12:15 PM UTC

guy-scutellaro

la luna

...bobby stole a car george jumped through the open back window we tied robbie up left him on some ones porch were surprized when the spainish people carried him into the house (so much for robbie) we egged chamburg's parents put a box on a porch with john inside rang the doorbell and ran across the street to hide behind a car john jumped out the lady screamed the husband yelled john ran came back the next night attached a long cord to the empty box rang the doorbell.... hang on st. Christopher the moon was never fuller and we all enjoyed a little madness for awhile

30

On a filthy street corner in a town on the outskirts of the City we congregated I was the only white & was dressed in my usual tattered finery, ripped jeans & a silk shirt halfway undone I imagined myself a sea rover of the Spainish Main silver 38. tucked in my back waistband I glanced at my 3 comrads, gangsters of the lower class sagging jeans dreadlocks reeking of **** I imagined myself a rover but in truth we were nothing but societys corrosion words were exchanged by my comrad & another rover from down the way louder & angrier until shots rang out & shattered the evenings trance snapping into action fire was returned we held ground until music from the keepers of law sang down the street we scattered I sailed to the train tracks but was pursued I turned & raised my silver 38. but the lawman's bullets took me down hard the last thing I remember was the sky beautiful and orange with the coming of dusk the most beautiful evening I had ever seen

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Jul 16, 2012

Jul 16, 2012 at 9:00 PM UTC

zachary-charles-russ

The Most Beautiful Evening

On a filthy street corner in a town on the outskirts of the City we congregated I was the only white & was dressed in my usual tattered finery, ripped jeans & a silk shirt halfway undone I imagined myself a sea rover of the Spainish Main silver 38. tucked in my back waistband I glanced at my 3 comrads, gangsters of the lower class sagging jeans dreadlocks reeking of **** I imagined myself a rover but in truth we were nothing but societys corrosion words were exchanged by my comrad & another rover from down the way louder & angrier until shots rang out & shattered the evenings trance snapping into action fire was returned we held ground until music from the keepers of law sang down the street we scattered I sailed to the train tracks but was pursued I turned & raised my silver 38. but the lawman's bullets took me down hard the last thing I remember was the sky beautiful and orange with the coming of dusk the most beautiful evening I had ever seen

56

i usually, just get tortured, by thinking about pickled chiilies; oh come on... the crunch? wouldn't that bother you... conjuring up a kebab... and some mint sauce, with a variety of vegetables? cucumbers, tomatoes, onions, cabbage... the **** do they add to the pita enclosure? **** o.k., i get the need to reiterate they're sweet spainish onions... no peppers... red cabbage, not white cabbage... no raw garlic... but garlic is the fundamental garnish however you think about a turkish kebab... same category as coriander... this is becoming silly... like me in a subway buying a sandwitch... the question... what toppings? ah... **** can't be bothered to choose... slap all of them into the bun; what, even the black olives?! ah... whatever, yeah. i still won't be able to conjure up the turks' combo veg addition to a kebab... it's the pickled chillies... it's torture, not conjuring them up, sometimes; o.k., who the **** sprinkled salt, on my tongue?!

0

May 27, 2017

May 27, 2017 at 7:35 PM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

pickled green chillies + cream mint sauce + kebab meat (and an assortment of fresh vegetables... esp. spanish onions)

i usually, just get tortured, by thinking about pickled chiilies; oh come on... the crunch? wouldn't that bother you... conjuring up a kebab... and some mint sauce, with a variety of vegetables? cucumbers, tomatoes, onions, cabbage... the **** do they add to the pita enclosure? **** o.k., i get the need to reiterate they're sweet spainish onions... no peppers... red cabbage, not white cabbage... no raw garlic... but garlic is the fundamental garnish however you think about a turkish kebab... same category as coriander... this is becoming silly... like me in a subway buying a sandwitch... the question... what toppings? ah... **** can't be bothered to choose... slap all of them into the bun; what, even the black olives?! ah... whatever, yeah. i still won't be able to conjure up the turks' combo veg addition to a kebab... it's the pickled chillies... it's torture, not conjuring them up, sometimes; o.k., who the **** sprinkled salt, on my tongue?!

38

I want her to know how I feel. I want her to know I'm here for her. I want to take back the night. I want to make us friends again. I want to trade this English flower - - For this Spanish Rose. I want to.

0

Feb 24, 2014

Feb 24, 2014 at 6:14 PM UTC

stanislaw-hhm

English Flower / Spainish Rose

I want her to know how I feel. I want her to know I'm here for her. I want to take back the night. I want to make us friends again. I want to trade this English flower - - For this Spanish Rose. I want to.

7