"tassel" poems
a black bat
hangs upside down
digesting a fly
his face almost human
a flying Frankenstein
he excretes
puddles of guano
like miniature buttered popcorn
a dark and wavy goulash
gods gift
to beetles and worms
dizzied overheated men look on
to an uproarious variety hour
of song and a high heeled kicks
inspiring
a tempest of throbbing
whisky drenched
folded ***** and cash
trouser trout fish,
undulant
sexed up
tape worms for love
pulse the night
egging on bunny **** pom poms
devout finger puppets of Eros
for
shimmering ****** lipstick twilled vibratos
sequined tassel spinning areolas
and lavish come **** me dance girls
bring down the house in flames
making hearts apostate
clamoring
and melt men like steaming everglades
the bat
hangs from the chandelier
licks his black lips
and looks on to panorama of hieroglyphics
hearing music
a thunderous nonsense
witnessing visions
of
flies, tasty white winged moths
and the thrill of screams
while biting the head off of another bat
in a claret stained red velvet cabaret
Aug 31, 2017
Aug 31, 2017 at 5:09 PM UTC
a bottle of scotch had bad dreams.
bullets twitch, junk sick
in 3 inch thick
mustard ****
toe nails clipped from yeti
lay strewn about the **** stained corpse
of a motel six dixie cup -
root canal trophy,
next to
a black fez
with scab tassel
upended.
down in it. belching apnea
propaganda
and belladonna
waiting for curious george
to find a shotgun
and a yellow
hat
and a brick banana.
blowflies inhale the rank damp
of a fresh ****
the odd dog whines
like a clown in -
a blender.
[ the ]
house wins
with a marked card; jabbing fat fingers
into acned rosacea
bloated with sleep lack
and mortgage
back stab
chasing twenty ******
with a hollow point
pull from an acid
flask
while hailing a black cab.
tinsel sutures
stitch eyelids as a mercy
shattered bone knit
hand-grenade
cozies
old glory, at half mast
half wasted
fifty stars, no light
dragging on
the grounds of immunity
to do a line
of coke stock
with a basset hounds'
finesse.
your taxes at work
in columbia,
hiding from a lost farm
in Idaho
your american dream
turning tricks in shanghai
for a counterfeit
egga roll
your meme, devoid
like an ice cube
tombstone
your freedom, parking cars
for italian escorts
smoking skin flutes
for ferraris
and white teeth.
your integrity, sold to a hedge fund
for astroglide and a pez dispenser
packed with prozac
pressed by ' Jose the butcher' s abuela
in a narco slum
that ain't seen radio
since cinder blocks
had wings.
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 2:40 PM UTC
WASHINGTON IRVING WROTE A NOVEL
ABOUT ICHABOD CRANE
LITTLE SLEEPY HOLLOW
WILL NEVER BE THE SAME
LITTLE SLEEPY HOLLOW WAS CURSED
BY A HORSEMAN MOST DREAD
HE WAS RIDING IN SLEEPY HOLLOW
IN SEARCH OF HIS HEAD
THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN WAS
IN THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR
SO FOR HIM SEARCHING FOR HIS HEAD
WAS NEVER A CHORE
ICHABOD CRANE WAS
A TEACHER MOST STRICT
WEATHER THE GHOST STORIES WERE TRUE
WHO COULD EVER PREDICT
ICHABOD TEACHES THE CHILDREN
OF FARMERS IN THE VILLAGE
BUT ITS THE YOUNG GIRLS OF FARMERS
HE SECRETLY WANTS TOO PILLAGE
KATRINA VAN TASSEL A
BEAUTIFUL YOUNG STUDENT
ICHABOD FALLS IN LOVE WITH HER
BUT WAS IT VERY PRUDENT
HE WAS INVITED TO THE TASSELS
FOR A PARTY MOST RARE
KATRINA AT THE PARTY
DISMISSES HIS WITHOUT CARE
ICHABOD LEAVES THAT NIGHT
ON HIS HORSE HE RIDES
ITS AN EERILY DARK PATH
HIS HORSE DOSE STRIDE
ICHABOD IS SCARED AND SEES
A LARGE DARK MAN
HE YELLS TO THE STRANGER
AS LOUD AS HE CAN
SO ICHABOD RIDES SCARED AND FAST
BUT ALONG SIDE COMES THE MAN
NOT WILLING TOO PASS
ICHABOD NOTICES THE RIDER
REALLY HAS NO HEAD
THIS JUST FILLS ICHABOD
WITH THE MOST SINFUL DREAD
ICHABOD AND THE STRANGER
RACE TO THE TOWN CHURCH
FOR THIS IS WHERE THE GHOST STORIES
FIRST CAME TO BIRTH
ICHABOD RACES TO THE BRIDGE
AND NERVOUSLY LOOKS BACK
THE STRANGER HAS DISAPPEARED
OFF THE GHOSTLY TRACK
BUT HE NOTICES THE STRANGER
HIS HEAD HE DOSE HURL
ICHABOD FALLS OF THE HORSE
HIS WORLD IS IN A WHIRL
THE NEXT DAY ICHABOD'S
HORSE FINALLY RETURNS HOME
WHERE IS ICHABOD
WHERE DID HE ROAM
THEY LOOK FOR ICHABOD
AND FIND HOOF PRINTS
AND ICHABOD'S HAT
SO NOW THE FOLKLORE IS BORN
IN SLEEPY HOLLOW THAT'S THAT
" WISDOM IS LIKE MANURE IT'S NO GOOD UNLESS IT'S SPREAD AROUND ENCOURAGING OTHERS TO GROW"
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 5:47 PM UTC
KEEP a red heart of memories
Under the great gray rain sheds of the sky,
Under the open sun and the yellow gloaming embers.
Remember all paydays of lilacs and songbirds;
All starlights of cool memories on storm paths.
Out of this prairie rise the faces of dead men.
They speak to me. I can not tell you what they say.
Other faces rise on the prairie.
They are the unborn. The future.
Yesterday and to-morrow cross and mix on the skyline
The two are lost in a purple haze. One forgets. One waits.
In the yellow dust of sunsets, in the meadows of vermilion eight o'clock June nights ... the dead men and the unborn children speak to me ... I can not tell you what they say ... you listen and you know.
I don't care who you are, man:
I know a woman is looking for you
and her soul is a corn-tassel kissing a south-west wind.
(The farm-boy whose face is the color of brick-dust, is calling the cows; he will form the letter X with crossed streams of milk from the teats; he will beat a tattoo on the bottom of a tin pail with X's of milk.)
I don't care who you are, man:
I know sons and daughters looking for you
And they are gray dust working toward star paths
And you see them from a garret window when you laugh
At your luck and murmur, "I don't care."
I don't care who you are, woman:
I know a man is looking for you
And his soul is a south-west wind kissing a corn-tassel.
(The kitchen girl on the farm is throwing oats to the chickens and the buff of their feathers says hello to the sunset's late maroon.)
I don't care who you are, woman:
I know sons and daughters looking for you
And they are next year's wheat or the year after hidden in the dark and loam.
My love is a yellow hammer spinning circles in Ohio, Indiana. My love is a redbird shooting flights in straight lines in Kentucky and Tennessee. My love is an early robin flaming an ember of copper on her shoulders in March and April. My love is a graybird living in the eaves of a Michigan house all winter. Why is my love always a crying thing of wings?
On the Indiana dunes, in the Mississippi marshes, I have asked: Is it only a fishbone on the beach?
Is it only a dog's jaw or a horse's skull whitening in the sun? Is the red heart of man only ashes? Is the flame of it all a white light switched off and the power house wires cut?
Why do the prairie roses answer every summer? Why do the changing repeating rains come back out of the salt sea wind-blown? Why do the stars keep their tracks? Why do the cradles of the sky rock new babies?
4.4k
The world meant nothing.
Not to us three.
With the windows down,
and our voices scratchy
from the cigarettes and
The singing at the top of our lungs.
With clothes drenched in the smell
Of bonfires and menthol,
and Big Red barrelling down
The back roads,
we are unstoppable.
I can't wait for summer to begin,
with long nights and starry skies,
And the moonlight as our guide.
Cool air swifting into the windows,
and the tassel swinging in the mirror
makes me never want to leave this van.
We are unstoppable.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 10:41 PM UTC
I am living in the 1920s
I am missing the shaking tassel dresses, the whispering red lips and the springing curls
I live through the deep emptiness of an uncurled smile from a boy who has a shine in his eye
A shine from a coin filled with the greed for the nothingness of wealth
His gaping presence has replaced wickedly free men
What remains are toying boys craving meaning
Behind the shade of the thinly golden pattern
Of whiskey blurred nights
Of shivering embraces
Barely touching in numbness
I love you meaning I do not acknowledge your depth or care to know mine
What meaning?
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 12:58 PM UTC
As excited as I am about the end of the semester and Christmas approaching, the bitter cold this week has almost frozen me. Don’t get me wrong, winter is a great time for fashion, but the cold weather is not for me. I would prefer to stay inside with a huge glass of hot chocolate. Aside from cocoa, he secret to staying warm is to dress in layers. I’ve tried to do that with this outfit but I’ve failed a bit.
The majority of this outfit comes from The Yellow Rose, which is a locally owned boutique in my home town. The blanket scarf and shirt are both from the Rose. These boots are from Maurices, but could be swapped for converse or duck boots. The coat is from Aeropostale.
It’s safe to say that I have fallen in love with the blanket scarf. Not only are they adorable, but they also provide ample warmth. They can be worn with nearly anything, including this great shirt. This shirt has a tassel tie underneath the scarf which means it could be worn on it’s own, if you aren’t as big a fan of the blanket scarf.
This jacket is a life-saver to say the least. The reason it works with this outfit so well is because the green in the scarf is the same green on the jacket. Army green goes with just about anything. The sleeves are a sweater material which makes them warmer than normal. You could dress this up a bit which a nice trench coat or long cardigan. You could also change the boots out for black booties or flats.
This outfit is perfect for Christmas parties or Christmas dinners. It has all the traditional Christmas colors and it will keep you warm.
However isn’t only for Christmas. You can easily wear this at any time during the winter.
Hopefully this has given you a bit of holiday wardrobe inspiration. I know holidays can be a stressful time for some, but the outfit you wear should be one thing you don’t have to stress about. Stay warm and stay comfortable.
I hope your break is wonderful and filled with joy. I know we all need that after those finals. I’m sure we’re all ready for present, family time, and much needed sleep. Spread Christmas cheer this year and enjoy the time off. May your Christmas be merry and bright, and don’t forget the Christ in Christmas! He is the only eternal Gift that keeps on giving.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-brisbane | www.marieaustralia.com/vintage-formal-dresses
Dec 10, 2016
Dec 10, 2016 at 4:22 AM UTC
We've done it
We've did it
It's concurred and done
We've been at it since two thousand and one
The Class of 2014 is what we are
And boy have we gotten far
We are the generation that expierienced things none other has
From 9-11 to those new Internet fads
We are turning our tassel
It took a thirteen year haul of hassle
But as we stand
Diploma in our hand
We know it was worth it
We are the Class of 2014
And we did one heck of a job
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 9:28 PM UTC
The way the world sways. Every leaf left
in place, its stance chiseled to each blade,
an iteration of time; each tassel of seeds,
thy bread, thy handmaiden;
as breath on the brink of disappearance,
becomes a wave become water; proportions so
large so as to stagger the seasons—
one winter questioning another.
We listen. We listen as if musical ***** are tracing a
giant sine wave across the dark mud flats.
We watch it as if a rotted rowboat, its oars like two hands
at prayer, is signaling a gesture
of permanence towards the sky. The grass
has turned from gray to blue to green.
The tide washes in. A bell is rung.
It’s as if the merry-go-round has turned it’s calliope on.
What Lao-tse has said is true.
The earth is a bellows. Use it.
The grasslands bellow and glow.
©Jim Kleinhenz
Feb 26, 2012
Feb 26, 2012 at 9:54 PM UTC
My best friend in third grade
Knew I liked this one boy
So we imagined ourselves in twelfth grade
At graduation night, throwing our caps in the air
She dared me to kiss him on the lips at that moment
In the very distant future
To declare my "like" for him after all that time
When we were about to say goodbye forever
Because to a third grader, graduation doesn't seem so final
But thinking about it now
The boy I liked in third grade
Is not the boy I love in twelfth
He wasn't even the boy I liked in fourth
Even several years ago
I imagined that if we never were together
I would find you on that night
Diploma in hand, blushing uncontrollably under my tassel
And kiss you
Tell you that I have loved you for as long as I can remember
And that I will love you until I forget myself entirely
But times changed again like they did in third grade
I am different than I was, but yet love the same
Graduation seemed to always be that time
Now or never, now or never, now or never
That if I were going to do something
Confess something to
Someone I never had the courage to love
It would be on that date
Because the next day
We would both leave
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 2:59 PM UTC
Snow, rain and grey sky ... sets again
Upon the coldest part of this city
where hundreds of grounded flights
Once again took to the unfriendly skies
So, here I am thinking of the land of the flying fish
With one wicked indulgent on my mind
The fire *** palm trees and casino nights.
St. Lawrence Gap is where the exchange rate
gets bigger and the euro goes from hand to hand,
meaningless *** ***** talk and a bit of ...fun
a dream within a dream, little favors
just to entice them, those locals folks
to encounter one night stand
All I need is one week to glow with the sun
One week, one weekend and my tassel bikini
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 6:52 PM UTC
Taxi Ride
‘Hop on.’ says The Fez
‘There’s no stairs.’ Sleepy eyed dry mouth.
‘Tug the tassel and swing.’
I tugged the tassel and swung and Whoosh!
Stars distant below,
velvet and silk far behind
ochre stretches indigo
on the jasmine zephyr.
Ancient tombs **** past,
dry walled cities hidden in dust.
Will I see my dinner?
The sun hisses, the moon stretches
spilling onto the onyx sea.
‘Where to?’ Fez says
‘It’s your ride’ I shrug.
‘Maybe an ex, or your boss.’
‘Nah, that would be a waste.’
‘How about the Jungle or The World’s Roof?’
Restless I turn and say
‘Just home will do’
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 11:09 AM UTC
There was an old person of Cassel,
Whose nose finished off in a tassel;
But they call'd ou, 'Oh well!--
Don't it look like a bell!'
Which perplexed that old person of Cassel.
1.3k
We leave the well-beloved place
Where first we gazed upon the sky;
The roofs, that heard our earliest cry,
Will shelter one of stranger race.
We go, but ere we go from home,
As down the garden-walks I move,
Two spirits of a diverse love
Contend for loving masterdom.
One whispers, 'Here thy boyhood sung
Long since its matin song, and heard
The low love-language of the bird
In native hazels tassel-hung.'
The other answers, 'Yea, but here
Thy feet have stray'd in after hours
With thy lost friend among the bowers,
And this hath made them trebly dear.'
These two have striven half the day,
And each prefers his separate claim,
Poor rivals in a losing game,
That will not yield each other way.
I turn to go: my feet are set
To leave the pleasant fields and farms;
They mix in one another's arms
To one pure image of regret.
1.3k
I miss you more hourly- your the strength that empowers me
It's your essence that surrounds me since adolescents you've allowed me
To flourish- but I'm starting to feel the heat from hells furnace
I seek help for courage an no one else can nourish me like you do..
But you have already passed, is it possible to ressurect from ash ?
For the devils breath runs across my neck and I feel death upon me
Please watch me as I battle its a hassle because Satan's tassel is deadly
Is it the envy that led me to depths of hell?
How can I excel in this dimension ?
I need a divine intervention... I need you
Nov 9, 2010
Nov 9, 2010 at 12:01 PM UTC
We teach our kids how to use keyboards
But we can’t make them want to write
Anything meaningful or important
Like (love or peace or hurt or hearts or good or bad or taste,sight,touch,smell
FEEL)
We teach them how to use computers
because we know that most of them
will sit behind a desk for the rest of their lives.
trying to pretend that they are satisfied with themselves
trying to ignore the fact that this paycheck is just a SLIP of FANCY PAPER with not enough numbers on it.
trying to forget that grey hair they found on their crown in the bathroom that morning,
They’ll sit at their mahogany desk in their black tassel shoes
and think “at least I got a job that I can use my degree for”
But when they went to college,
they always wanted to major in English
But they knew that they couldn’t get a job
With that degree
So they took the easy way out
And studied technology
And now,
They teach kids how to use keyboards on weekends
Jun 1, 2011
Jun 1, 2011 at 6:37 PM UTC
Cap and tassel,
diploma,
freedom from academia.
A swift, ****** birth
as I'm shoved through to real life,
supposedly born grown,
a bright smile and a firm hand shake,
along with a list of accomplishments.
I have none, my resume made
completely of Diablo Rock Gym
and Chipotle.
Great.
Maybe I can still fail a class,
tell the professor I copied
my A paper, get expelled
and start all over!
Or fade away quick,
sink fast before anyone notices.
I'll slide into some forgotten swamp,
survive on worms,
and my own words,
my own words,
my own wo,
my own w
my own
my ow
my
m y
m
.
May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 4:06 AM UTC
You were the oldest memory
I could ever think of
You were there when I was learning the alphabets
And having trouble memorizing the multiplication table
You were there when the teacher locked me out of the classroom
I wasn't able to bring a gumamela
You gave me one during Science class
You also helped me carry the logs
And amazed me with your ability to make fire
during the first camp out
I was quietly looking at your sketches
I once told you, they were good
But you just flashed a smile and
I've noticed the sparkles in your eyes
I know I should've concentrated in History instead
But Trigonometry and Physics were done
And we've marched down the aisle with flying colors
I've never seen you again
After you threw your tassel at our graduation day
Believe me, these memories came in to me
When I saw you again after 8 years of nothing
You were still the same innocent face I knew
Only a lot more of a beautiful face,
A more subtle eyes,
A more genuine smile
And it amazes me more
'Cause you've grown into a good man
And maybe... just maybe I thought,
It's because of the girl you're always with
In the photographs with a deep caption of yours
Maybe... just maybe
It's a lot more than I think
'Cause I knew it by the way you look at her
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 1:36 AM UTC
The sun peeps as it fades
still my heart smiles for you
It pounces as the wine pours
Hardly does reality feel me
Neither see me beyond the miles
Colour me red and kiss my passion
Carry my stilettos as they weigh me down
Touch the sensual edges of my feet
The bareness and the harness of my balance
My eyes lids glare with the mascara
My eyes stares with the boldness
The paste of rouge lipstick smiles in motions
The fuchsia silky gown is soft and sleek
Awaiting for your breath to sweep it away
The ****** tassel on the peak of lingerie
Tussles and whistles as they pick in dreams
Turn your head around from afar
See the best of our times and years to come
Never to wear out or ever tear apart
Never to get angry but to hold on forever
Never to be jealous but have a zeal of life
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 4:56 PM UTC
I saw you today..
By accident..
Caught me off guard..
Wasen't expecting it..
You looked the same..
Head deep into your phone..
Unaware of what's going on around you..
Restored friendships...
With whom you hated...
All because I left you alone..
And all because you cant stand...
To be alone...
Cant say I'm surprised..
You were always high school..
All pom poms on game day..
All talk..
Loose lipped...
Knowing nothing of loyalty..
Starved for attention..
Mouth running constantly...
To whoever would listen..
Always kind of wide eyed..
And not really there...
Yea...
Nothings changed...
Your still the same...
What can I say though..
I have no regrets...
Walking away...
From a ****** up friendship..
You did me so *****
Like we were in high school..
And if you hadn't noticed...
I graduated years ago..
The life you choose to live with you and your kids...
Just isn't okay with me anymore..
You hang out with 21 year olds...
Girl, your 30...
Your Regina George's mom..
Quit playin...
This **** isn't funny...
I hope you invest all your..
"Extra time" into your kids..
They need you...
I'll miss them..
Ill miss you..
I use to love you like a sis...
But I grew up...
I've outgrown your ********
I've hung up my gown and tassel...
Its time for you to do the same..
Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 2:56 AM UTC
There once was a girl who fought against my will to feel.
Her cold winds brushed away my soul and
Stole away my love
Her only friend, his name was Fear, hid beneath forgotten tears,
When it struck the hour to love, he
Stopped the seconds in cold blood
A constant battle, crimson saddle
Living in my depths
A burning little, tainted tassel
Breathing in my depths
In my depths
Feb 24, 2012
Feb 24, 2012 at 1:28 PM UTC
a boy was once
everything to me
I left to get my degree
so young and fragile
wore my cap and tassel
set out to find what
it is i’ve been looking for
only to find it was not him
anymore
a man was once
nothing to me
just a sight to see
from across the bar
until I got in his car
and found what it is
i’ve been needing all along
he’s holding my hand
and he’s playing that song
two nights later
in the kitchen light
of his quaint little home
I danced with the man
who I met at the bar
he made me understand
just how naive boys are
two years later
in stain glass light
of the church down the road
I am meant to marry the man
but he never showed.
Mar 24, 2021
Mar 24, 2021 at 6:15 PM UTC
i like it when it rains at night
she whispered before she was pregnated
by fallen stars and heaven's tears.
i like it when ants crawl over my knuckles
he sobbed as he watched
a tassel of blonde hair hit the ceramic floor.
i like it when the shores kiss my toes
she said before the tide came
and swallowed her into its deep blue underworld.
and all the world's a shaved mountain
he said as he was being vacuumed
out of her weeping belly.
Mar 6, 2012
Mar 6, 2012 at 8:40 PM UTC
WHAT DO YOU GET IF YOU CROSS A ******
WITH AN ESKIMO? ANSWER: YOU GET A MASSIVE
VASSAL WITH A PASSIVE TASSEL AND A FRIGID
****** WITH WITH A RIGID DIGIT. COLD COMFORT.
DO YOU LIKE IT IN CIDER? THERE WAS A BIG
BLACK HAIRY SPIDER WHICH CHASED JUSTIN G.,
DON'T YOU SEE THAT'S SO COOL - SO APRIL FOOL!
OF THE NILE A JEWEL, NOW I'LL DROOL AT YOUR POOL.
I MUST BE EMOTIONALLY OFF COURSE, OF COURSE
IT'S NICE TO EXPAND YOUR HORIZON, PUT EYES ON
DIFFERENT THINGS, DIG INTO WHAT'S BENEATH, YOU
MAY NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT'S ABOVE YOU UNTIL
SOMEBODY SAYS THAT THEY LOVE YOU.
LET'S HAVE SOME NO SADNESS, LOTS OF GLADNESS
EVEN THO' THERE MAY BE **** IN MY MADNESS.
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 2:45 PM UTC
The end
It's almost upon me
Approaching like a cheetah
I cannot escape
The night I get dressed up
With a gown around me
The hat on my head
The tassels
The cords around my neck
Strangling me
Making it hard to breathe
The words escaping
I don't want this night to come
The stage lights producing sweat
As I walk across to receive a piece of paper
Saying I made it
I survived
I'm meant to celebrate
The end of my journey
The end of the hell
All my classmates put me through
But that night
When I move my tassel
Will be the beginning
Of my goodbyes
There have been very few
To be by my side
To encourage me
To love me
While some leave with me
To places unknown
I must leave some back
To survive alone in this ring of fire
I won't survive the night
Without tears down my face
Without choking on my words
My fears
How do you tell someone
That you love them
And that they alone
Have helped you live
No one said goodbyes were easy
But now I know what they mean
I feel it in my heart
The emptiness
The loneliness
So I walk towards my teacher
Thinking about my friends
Grab the diploma
And cry
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 12:18 AM UTC