"thelma" poems
Romeo, Juliet
They were better off dead
For falling in love is just like getting shot in the head
Come along, little fool
What better way to learn the rules
Than for someone to be cruel to you
Miss Thelma and Louise
Their spirits drift over Belize
Lovers live forever and never learn to leave
Mrs. Bonnie, Mr. Clyde
Seems like everyone in love has died
Not in each other's arms but by their side
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 10:34 PM UTC
FRED CARVER
3 days after Fred Carver
Was shot dead
In a craps game
We all gathered
At Sparkman’s Funeral Home
For the visitation
I was standing
Behind Fred’s ex-wife Thelma
When she reached into her purse
And dropped something
In the casket
I leaned over her shoulder
And watched a black spider
Crawl up Fred’s face
And disappear in his hair
-Dennis Gulling
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 7:45 PM UTC
Bathtubs don’t work for quantum suicide
But every time I take one,
A part of me dies
What was nice under the crescent aglow?
Drunk on stars, or the moon lit show…
Ash of night, cradled what was once mine,
The repertoire of ever-syncing- jawlines.
Puissant is the chalice, its exaltation shined so bright,
Bestowed liberation underneath the chatoyant light,
The open windows left niveous fogs-
Breathed -stained –air, against crystal *****
Alive and one, under the entire earthly tempo,
Together left her organic imprints of art nouveau.
Beneath the warmth and petrichor ground,
The Lord and Lady commence to be crowned.
...Tree roots sink as veins of gods.
The serpent whispers his mellifluous facade...
The sharp shove of love’s first arrow
Lover’s spit, a seed for cupid’s bucolic furrow.
Scripture of Solomon’s *** temple of doom
All within the nicotine-stained-blue-infrared-bedroom,
Velvet allure, bellies of vigor,
The cold point, the pulled trigger.
Dance of Thelma, ancient cults of non-lovers
Feasting north, under the Horned God’s antlers.
The concoction of the widow’s deviated lust
Skins alive, the excited wolf-mans’ husk…
The gun’s mouth ex hailed bullets of smoke
Piercing hot wounds became tender lilts in up word strokes.
Still, they brought, perforating ice knives through the chest
Catching fades perpetually, just until two came abreast.
The shadow dalliance and hair pulls leave those weary,
The anise flower seeds sanction the suffering query.
What was once so beautiful at night?
Forgotten, as I turned red-haired-heathen in morning’s sight
So I take my hot bath, inure in my offing.
Emollient paean of the porcelain,
...which is my skin
See you, my ethereal being,
In short time spring will be fleeting
May 8, 2012
May 8, 2012 at 11:43 AM UTC
I don’t care if you steal a quick look,
when you think I can’t see it.
As long as it’s furtive, it’s by the book.
A man looks at a woman;
it’s only human.
But when you stare
at my big “girls”, then leer in my face--
you’re a disgrace.
I’m not putting up with your ******
The next time it happens,
I’m going Thelma and Louise.
Jun 22, 2017
Jun 22, 2017 at 9:52 PM UTC
**Imagine, if you will, a swirling energy
Dancing around a core
Forever compelled to enter one end
Of a doughnut-like hole
Converging, traveling up and
Flinging out again in a creative burst
Spreading in all directions
But pulled by an irresistible force
To follow semi-circular paths
Back to the base
There to be reunited, renewed and then
Flow up and out again
And around and back
And up and out
And around and back
Again and again
And --
Can this Torus imaged energy be universal
Both encompassing the cosmos
And small carbon units like myself
Did my atoms arise from the core and
Manifest in a splendid journey
Through colorful space and finite time
And will my spirit go back
To coalesce in the core
And spring up again
And again and again
And --
Are black holes in space
Magnetized entrances into a doughnut hole
where compressed energy races up the core and
Spews out in a sprawling light show of universes
Until it is all called back to the base
To be fused again, transformed,
Recreated and sent up and out
And around and back
Again and again
And --**
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 5:01 PM UTC
I am from devouring chapter books and making music
from the Chronicles of Narnia to falling in love with the piano
I am from the kingdoms of playgrounds and pools
Enjoyed with unforgettable friends on serene summer evenings
(Blissful innocence, alive with imagination, it was permeated with endless laughter)
I am from the blushing pink roses,
the cheerful cherry blossoms in my front yard
the epitome of beauty and the color I have always been drawn to
I’m from the warm family dinners at the kitchen table and unconditional love
from Noel and Thelma and Hope and Charity
I’m from the songs of gladness and hearts of thanksgiving
From choose to let your mistakes make you better not bitter and
think on whatever is lovely and true
I’m from trust in the Lord with all your heart,
and lean not on your own understanding
I’m from Brooklyn and the Philippines,
Cheesy New York pizza and sizzling chicken adobo
From nights enthralled with captivating characters in wondrous worlds of books
The sweet strolls on sunset beaches with my dad and mom
in cherished pretty photo albums
I am from formidable obstacles that taught me to never give up
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 6:24 PM UTC
The funniest thing about the Andy Griffith Show.
He had an aunt that he loved so.
Which took time for Opie to know.
He had a deputy with one bullet.
Give him more.
Then you were in for a show.
But, he also had a famous phase.
Like "Nip It In The Bud".
Which every now and then, he spoked.
In truth Bernard P. Fife was vital to the show.
Yes, the funniest thing about the Andy Griffith Show.
He was a good parent first and fore most.
He was fair and firm.
When it came to his son.
After all.
He only had one.
Unlike that , of My Three Sons.
The men seems to gather at the Barber Shop.
Which , we still see today.
And like Flyod, many talked before they cut.
And many times.
He would cut too low.
Yes, this was part of the fun of the Andy Griffith Show.
Who doesn't remember Otis?
Who could teach many drunks today's a lesson.
He personally checked himself in.
Just to sober up and leave again.
Who doesn't remember that adult kid Ernest T. Bass?
Who many of times was sneaky and smart?
Or wanted a uniform just to wear it with class.
Of course the black and white shows are better than color.
All because they are so much funnier.
We admire Thelma Lou.
Still trying to figure out exactly what she did do?
We remember even Ellie.
Who wouldn't give a senior citizen?
A sugar tablet.
Yes, this was part of the fun of the Andy Griffith Show.
I could go on.
But I stop for now.
Least until, I see the show when Bill Bixby learn a lesson.
From visiting the town.
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 9:45 AM UTC
The Steamy air Hung heavy
In the Office of the Private Eye.
Kansas City in August
The Air wants to die,
Or it only Smells that way.
Drifting up off the Riverbank.
Thelma my receptionist Waits
Filing her nails by the Silent Phone
If things Didn't Pick up soon or Late
Bills would have me Down to the Bone
Chasing Bail jumpers, something I'd Hate
Have to settle on, less some business was done
Just as I knocked back a Belt of Bourbon,
Came a Knock at the Door, in Walked
A pair of Legs from Here to there, to look on
Not sure if it was the red of her lips,
Or the red of her bright Hair,
But a Swing in her Hips Got me there.
She Laid on the tears as she told me her Fears
A Long lost sister being run by the Mob
Prostituting she said with a Gasp and a Sob
Her Silk Stocking legs crossing Sealed the deal
I'd put an ear to the street and find out the feel
A Kansas City Kingpin ran her on the street
If I staked out a Corner I'd see them Meet
Slipped my .32 from the Leather and Spun it once
Checking the chamber for a full Loaded Gun
I hunched down in the front seat of my old Chevy
It was only Minutes till he played the Heavy
I shouted out stop, as he Pulled a gun... Popped
It Seemed like Slow Motion as his body Dropped
She screams for Police, next I'm Cuffed by a Cop
Long legs says I stalked her, and am Patently Crazy
I took the Fall 'cause she set me up for the Patsy
The moral of the Story is..........
"Dames and Bourbon Don't mix".....JMF 12/11/14
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 12:21 AM UTC
Reckless and wild
Hopeful and carefree
The roads of the midwest await
Inconvenience strikes-
Sealed already is their fate.
On the run
90 goes the T-bird
leaving behind it their future
entangled in the thick clouds of dust.
Over the grand canyon they go
The T-bird flies
Their energy and passion,
their fuel.
Limitless possibilities await
for Thelma and Louise
The journey continues
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 4:35 PM UTC
Sometimes I think my childhood went to fast
But frak-lookin’ back that castle was glass
Lasts longer than the beams to break the ceiling’s fall
With my puns I’m probably driving Carter Rhodes up a wall
I diggin’ in the dirt for those three words, words, words
My angry arrow’s at the birds, birds, birds
But like, Thelma and Louise could’ve given me their keys
‘Cuz they always hashtag swerve, swerve, swerve
This is me being personal
I don’t like to do it, but it’s
Best that I do it ‘cuz it
Saves the fuss of a
Sloppy, sole seat in
A sterile room
Where she gives me tissues for a twenty
Call me Mx. ‘cuz I missed the Mr.
Kyrie crown me the king of the sisters
You knock one down I’ll get up, defend her
And mix you up in my gender blender
Just like I'm out on a gender ******
To numb the pain from this Jen or Ben curse
And I’ve played chicken with the blurry ground
And I’ve breathed heavy as I looked around
My feet kissed the air and my arms were spread wide
Hoping against Hope that Jeckyll would beat Hide
It’s been a while since the last time and all
So if I jump-either way the other shoe’s gonna fall.
This is me being personal
I don’t like to do it, but it’s
Best that I do it ‘cuz it
Saves the fuss of a
Sloppy, sole seat in
A sterile room
Where she gives me tissues for a twenty
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 1:46 PM UTC
First, Tom Cochran, and next, Rascal Flatts,
sang that
Life is a Highway
and that's partially true if
you're willing to consider that
coasting is not an option
that you rarely have the opportunity
to drive hundreds of miles without
rubberneckers or blue Q-Tips driving
forty in a sixty-five
to drive from Napa to San Diego without
stopping for mixed nuts and a frozen coffee
and Smartfood
to drive with movie-like abandon without
the Thelma & Louise slo-mo sending you
careening toward the crevasse
Life is a highway riddled, web-like, with
unexpected off-ramps and
unforeseen on-ramps and
inconvenient detours that take you places
you never dreamed you'd go
you never thought you'd end up
but there are
rest stops and
diners and
fruit stands offering organic sunshine
and there are
flat tires and
empty tanks and
road crews repaving your path in 104 degree heat
and there are
national parks and
natural wonders and
the world's largest frying pan
the world's largest ball of twine
the world's crookedest road
the world's newest you
Your life is a highway that is made of
choices
which lead you on your own
Choose-Your-Own-Adventure
with epic battles for good and evil and
pots of gold at the end of sprinkler-rainbows and
endless hints that
YOU MAY ALREADY BE A WINNER!!!
Your life is a highway and
if you miss your off-ramp
accept your new path
. . . because there's no going back and
if you miss your on-ramp
enjoy the scenery and the cows and the Texas Stop-Signs
. . . because you never know when you'll
see them again
Your life is a highway and
this is your off-ramp, so
take it with
your eyes open to wonder
your heart open to magic
your life open to change
because that is you evolving
Honor the view in your rearview mirror as you
keep your eyes on the horizon and
with joy
with fear
with electric anticipation
Take your exit!
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 1:52 PM UTC
One minute moment of I’m OK
A razors edge of lingering doubt
A use by date written for me
This attempt will be the last
Wondering of the peel and reveal
Resilience, bouncing back again
I will know for sure this time around
No more talk of Thelma and Louise
I will exit stage right, walk away
Unmoved by breath of your words
Travel together spinnaker set
Or gybe away, set our own course
Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 5:36 AM UTC
Hey there old friend. Maybe friend isn’t the correct term, so allow me to rephrase. Hello old habit. You and me were best friends. We were the Thelma and Louise of our time and yes we flew over the cliff and plunged into the abyss. I was sick and I only needed you. Not chicken soup which is weird because I always thought you were better when heated on a spoon. I thought you were all the antibiotics I needed. You and me were married once. I woke up to you, thought about you all day long, and rushed you into my arms at night. But that was just the honeymoon phase.
My friend, my disease. I was in it not for the thrill of the chase but for the end of my pain. When I was with you I saw my dreams come true. Pigs were flying, Donald Trump wasn’t considered sane enough to run the country, and I didn’t have to believe I was dying. I didn’t have to care about Tom, Ben, or Jerry. Care if the birds flew south to avoid harsh winters or harsh people. I avoided both. I only cared about cutting perfect line, rolling a perfect dime, and making sure I didn’t look high. If I said I didn’t miss you I would be lying but hey, you’ve made a liar out of me before. It’s easy to try and ignore the hell you put me through, but I would walk a thousand miles of hells seventh floor before I slip back into that fantasy. That coma of things that have never been and could never not be. Me and the devil have danced nine times to many and I know all his sweet moves.
My friend, my affliction, Kryptonite doesn’t have a **** thing on you! You kept me down for four years. Only down was up and up was blue and it was way to difficult to stop believing in you. Believing you were better than real love. I loved you so much. You were my sweetheart, my honeybear, my chrystal, my blow, my k2 spice, my daily fix. But you can’t fix this! You can’t fix my past or make my future bright. I know I sound like I’ve suddenly seen the light but it was always there. I just chose to close my eyes.
My friend I think it’s best we stop playing this game. It’s time I call you by your true name. Addiction, you were never my friend only another bullet I’d bitten. Addiction you are my cancer, you may not be stage four but you're still terminal. You were the Thelma to my Louise. Only now if I am driven to the edge of insanity I’ll skid to a stop. I will watch as you fall over the edge, and I’ll smile as you dive into oblivion. A place I never again want to be.
Jul 27, 2017
Jul 27, 2017 at 12:32 PM UTC
Early spring has come to Thelma’s farm.
The geese are on the pond,
a green velvet carpet circles the barn
while songbirds greet the morning sun.
We walk down Thelma's rutted road
where milk trucks used to rumble in
to fetch the morning’s yield.
Old Tikki leads the way - a pale fluff of a mutt
like a dust mop searching for its handle.
Thelma’s cows are long since gone –
sold off after Dutch was called to eternity
but she'd no more forsake this land - her land
than the sun would forget to rise.
Early spring has come to the Missouri hills
where clean warm breezes whisper hope.
Soon the ready soil will taste
the furrowing blades of the plow
near fields where livestock graze and flourish.
We’ve reached the bend in the road.
Old Tikki's wearing down
so we turn to retrace our steps.
A committee of neighbor calves
studies us with soulful eyes
and we appear to pass inspection.
Tikki guides us on our homeward path
where a ribbon of golden jonquility
neatly trims the foreyard fence.
Spring has come again to Thelma’s farm
as it always has and always will -
where clean warm breezes whisper hope.
March 13, 2011
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 4:01 AM UTC
I don't believe in ghosts
But recently I've been looking at dead people's profiles on Facebook
And that's about as close as you get
To the dead wandering around
Trying to interact with the living
I watched the end of Thelma and Louise again
And I always get confused depressed and scared
As to why they decide to die even when Harvey Keitel
Is running after them waving his hand in the air
Don't they realize that once they're burning
At the bottom of the Grand Canyon
There's not gonna even be a ghost left
Because Facebook hadn't even been invented yet
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 6:12 PM UTC
You be my Bonnie, I'll be your Clyde.
Together, we'll take this life for one hell of a ride.
You be my Thelma, I'll be your Louise.
We'll get in the car and do whatever we **** well please.
Life on the run with the one you love may sound fun.
But no matter how far or how fast you go,
eventually you will always fly too close to the sun.
It may seem natural to flee
but it doesn't matter if you run from pain or fear.
Your mind is like an elephant.
It never forgets so your problems will always reappear.
What you choose to do is up to you.
But take it from me.
Talking about your pain will set you free
May 22, 2019
May 22, 2019 at 8:44 PM UTC
One day Barney Fife was practicing his quick draw.
He accidentally shot Thelma Lou, he broke the law.
Andy had no choice but to put Barney in jail.
But Andy let Barney out when he said he had a crop of marijuana to sell.
Barney offered Andy a fifty-fifty deal.
But Andy wanted it all, he decided to steal.
He shot poor Barney and dumped his body in Myers Lake.
Andy became furious when he learned the marijuana was fake.
The crop of marijuana turned out to be oregano.
Andy was arrested and jail was where he had to go.
Andy will be pounding rocks for the rest of his days.
The Sheriff soon learned that crime doesn't pay.
Feb 3, 2019
Feb 3, 2019 at 1:11 PM UTC
Sitting pretty Thelma answered
because she was thirsty,
the mildew in the bathroom
reminded her cold air snagged,
random thoughts of the hunting sea grasses
quickened the wish to be free,
a clear voice set in motion
this captive flow .
Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 9:07 AM UTC
My whole and entire is YOU
When LOVE-soul-connect happened
At once I knew I was not "I"
I was "YOU"
Not that magnificent as I wanted to
I'm not above others, not lower them
I was covered with dust and ice till then
But now, I can see a thousand births
On your sunlit sparkle dazzle
You turn my vacance illuminate
Foggy became our image of "I"
You just cleared the smoke screen light
Within days, Our lives drenched
Strayed from life to wanderlust again
Natural it was for us to connect
To let us play "AGAPE LOVE" game
Nothing ever un-stitches our bond
No scissors nor knives makes the cut
Stayed, huddled and jagged
You & I - BE part of the cosmic "ONE"
Now, none is wasted in dictum of Holocene
We have arrived on a ramp of LOVE
Head over heels, drove down the streets
Like Thelma and Louise on our feet
OUR LOVE feels like epochs
We be the DUST of the wind
And we think we are still "FREE"
Feb 19, 2018
Feb 19, 2018 at 11:33 PM UTC
It's my birthday today.
45 years old.
I reckon I've got about another thirty years left in the tank before I turn to my best friend in a convertible and go Thelma and Louise style over a cliff.
Whether she likes it or not.
Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 12:48 PM UTC
She's playing piano on the
car keys
and
the lights have turned green.
Seen anything you're looking for
I said,
I was looking for
the rear door and
the exit.
The man in the Bowler hat
had been there and done most
of that and he was
unimpressed.
I guessed as much as she pushed the pedal to the floor and I know because I've been here before.
Thelma and Louise couldn't squeeze a lemon and find a drop of juice,
so what's the use?
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 4:54 PM UTC
angels welcomed her to heaven
they sang a song of greeting
through death's portal came
her Godly meeting
in a pose of serenity
her soul rests eternally
God's arms shall enfold
her with an infinite love
called home
to peacefulness
called to God's side
in God's kingdom
Thelma
now
resides
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 2:05 AM UTC
All the woman craved
was attentive conversation,
a few common interests,
*** would have been great,
but simple human touch
would have made the difference.
A drought continues until
you move on or die.
Living alone together is
so much lonelier
than living alone alone.
The water of love must be shared.
Indifference wounds deepest.
Being invisible diminishes the soul.
So she took her pride and heart
and her clothes and her dog
and went in search
of a life that felt alive.
Courage is the first virtue.
With it, anything is possibly possible.
Perhaps even unlikely happy endings.
~mce
Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 6:28 PM UTC
"Best Of You"
By Arcassin Burnham
i need you next to me,
like thelma and louis,
like Mrs. Smith,
like the ,
covers of the walls,
no spray cans needed,
want to kiss you like,
that scene in twilight,
or maybe we could be,
in an air balloon,
sharing secrets,
its only a matter of time ,
til i love , hug , and squeeze,
i just hope you it soon.
god bless you,
you just sneezed,
love me please.
"Touch Down"
By Arcassin Burnham
you are an angel in my eyes,
and just wanna love you,
you gave me purpose,
to see another virtue,
want to see you everyday,
and hold you in my arms,
and if i die thinking of you,
gods sends my reguards,
take you guard down,
you just touch down,
when you fell from the sky,
my Angel,
All the boys that ruined your life,
wasnt right for you,
in this case baby ,
i just wanna be that guy for you,
forgetting eachothers exes,
and exchanging kisses,
maybe late talk or text,
wanna be your final wishes,
cause i wish you loved me,
like the boyfriend you never had,
angel scold me,
if it was the last wish you had.
i love you.
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 7:18 PM UTC