"thwap" poems
Don't make it awkward
Don't make it awkward
Just don't make it awkward.
My mantra
I ponder my texts
Analyze the details
bang my head against the wall
If you're not awkward
he wont be.
right?
right?
****
...
...
it's awkward.
You're over analyzing
Too much thinking
Stop thinking
thwap
Head hits the desk.
I'm awkward.
Everything's normal
One night of choosing to not
won't ruin a friendship
right?
right?
It's not awkward.
Why won't he text me.
Don't be such a girl.
I am a girl.
****
I'm an awkward girl.
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 6:56 PM UTC
Lap, lap, lap,
Of the tide brushing my drenched pale back.
Tidal flux pressing my sand drenched pores.
Mind races, parched throat screams,
blistered lips yearning for more.
Slowly I pull myself up from the ocean’s grime.
Baking under the hot sun’s lore.
Palm trees sway to nature’s hypnotic tune,
Lush green plants, vibrant to the core.
A moment of zen pours over my soul,
Such beauty! Here upon this shore!
Sweet air so crisp and soothing upon my chapped lips.
Tranquil reverence in my self did bore.
Tap, tap, tap,
Of a plastic bottle bumping upon my leg.
Debri floating on the tide like a open sore.
Rage boils at this blight upon such beauty.
Trash drifting aimlessly, finding no room to store.
Flashed memories of my ship assaulted by the sea,
Wave, upon wave striking an endless score.
My mates all washed overboard into the deep blue,
Leaving me alone on a ship destined for the ocean’s floor.
Survived I have, but to what expense?
My debri making this serene coast a moor!
Is this my effect upon this beautiful place?
Am I nothing but a corrupting bore?
Thwap, thwap, thwap,
Roars the helicopter blades as it circles for me.
My eyes water and hands are raised as debri begins to soar.
The once lovely palm trees are now bending to the blades.
Lush green plants are flattened to the earth’s core.
Pain sparks an endless rage. Enough of this!
I hurry out of sight with feet drenched and sore.
I hobble to the comforting shade of the large healthy trees,
Peeling through lush vegetation reverently, entering heaven’s vibrant door.
Into nature’s womb I did go,
The vivacity of life makes my heart soar.
Slowly the sound the helicopter fades away,
Leaving me to my new heart’s core.
Apr 12, 2012
Apr 12, 2012 at 8:05 PM UTC
This heart does not
beat for me or them
for the whiskey or
the American sin
nor the outstretched
hand of greed in
countries where
their citizens don't
even have the basic
right to eat (animals).
The rhythmic thwap,
thwap, thwap is not
for the rushing rivers
in Colorado, nor for
the glowing canyons
of Utah or the grassy
hills in Amherst, not
even for the grandest
of all canyons (ever)!
Because I have an
angry heart filled with
cancers and pesticides
and processed sugars,
I'm sure of [my health].
No one ever told me
the American dream
was to die of McDonald-
ization or Burger King
Nation or a slew of other
man-made diseases.
My congested arteries
thank you, capitalism.
My oil-coated cells want
to shake hands with the
one and only Donald
Trump. My rotting lungs
and intestines can't wait
to meet the President.
My heart beats for you,
America (the beautiful).
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 11:43 AM UTC
_____________________________________________________
It is a deep sense I feel on the constant
Like breath that anew on foreign continents
Also a crave that I've known for some time
never to lie towards self but lately, rather, subside
The sketch of the shanty is brewing about
Things I thrive most, will fall among fall
It is night and more which thrive this existence,
pestilence, precision, and distance
Noted those traits I felt most accomplished
Never lose self notice, grow like a lotus,
boil in foil, and grind gears of purpose
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 1:06 PM UTC
Orion the hunter, so valiant and brave,
Hung like a chandelier among the stars
Crystals twinkling as he obediently behaves.
He shines like a warrior. Bow in hand and belt strapped tight
who knows just what will happen on this fine night
He sights his prey and pulls his bow.
With every intention of starting a row
He lets go with a mighty thwap
but alas he has fallen into the trap.
Lost to his pride and to his ambition
No one is quite sure of his condition
Why orion must you stray
from the path of stars in which you stay
Why orion must you do
All the things that hurt you
Oh orion, can't you see,
you hurt not only yourself
but also
me
Nov 10, 2020
Nov 10, 2020 at 9:44 PM UTC
It is a porcelain battlefield
and I hear the
brown bodies drop
with a wet thwap.
I push and strain
against the pain
to purge this
unpleasant thang.
Prickly peanuts
thick and hard
tearing me up
as I yell
“Arrrrggggh.”
Hold on tight,
it’s one hell
of a fight.
A fearsome foe
falls once more.
Then I hear
civilians holler,
“God no
that’s so gross!”
“Oh no,
collateral damage!”
I think as
puffs of spray
are spritzed my way,
cause in the heat
of this hard-won battle,
I forgot to
shut the door.
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 8:42 AM UTC