"tiptop" poems
may i feel said he
may i feel said he
(i'll squeal said she
just once said he)
it's fun said she
(may i touch said he
how much said she
a lot said he)
why not said she
(let's go said he
not too far said she
what's too far said he
where you are said she)
may i stay said he
(which way said she
like this said he
if you kiss said she
may i move said he
is it love said she)
if you're willing said he
(but you're killing said she
but it's life said he
but your wife said she
now said he)
ow said she
(tiptop said he
don't stop said she
oh no said he)
go slow said she
(cccome?said he
ummm said she)
you're divine!said he
(you are Mine said she)
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 10:09 PM UTC
The plantations have been privatized
The cotton fields paved with concrete
They still exist
Despite how much you resist
Needing working bee's
They persist
And insist you enlist
From the stone like mass
Sky scrappers are erected
At the tiptop, a **** head runs the show
He tells all the little white men
Who work beneath him
What to do and were to go
You're too tired to even think
But you have to work
If you want to eat
From cotton
To poppy
From slaves in shackles
To droids with imperceptible chains
Leading and whipping the pack,
NASDAQ reigns
Grinning like a fool
All complacently cozy cuddling your coins
In an ornamented box
Where your view of the stars is blocked
Politicking away with a bottle scars of yesterday
Telling yourself "Everything will be okay,
It has been this far."
All the while Uncle Sam blows freedom smoke
Up your *** with his federal cigar
Buy, consume, sell
Get drunk, stay distracted, inhale
Imbibe thoughts instead of ale
You could read a book for fun now,
Or to cure boredom in jail
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 1:05 PM UTC
He sits on the carousel wheel,
her lover neglectful-
looks over the night as the neon illuminates the shiny people.
He sits on the carousel wheel
and loves to get stuck at the top
so he may contemplate jumping,
so to contemplate swinging with madness
from one
cart
to
another
and then
safely
to the
cart that
holds her. Hero, him.
He looks over the crowd as they swish around him-
sway around him
moving by him as if they were dancing to a song in his head
but he is not dancing.
He's looking for her.
He pops several balloons with a fiery dart
walks away from the girl with the silken stockings held to her
thigh by violet bow...a violent blow to his lustful ways, he looks firmly down
to the dirt on his boots, kicks rocks, kicks air.
Stops at the man who swallows fire from a stick,
"answer me, answer me"-
the man spits ember lies.
He's looking for her in each clown
pulling their make up down with his finger
and it looks like they're crying
so he can't really know
if it is her he has found?
Oh neglectful lover.
He busies himself by winning a prize
for his beloved, his lost
A prize- his reward for believing in true love.
He busies himself, knocks down milk bottles-
and punches the punching bags
insults the slow and disgusted carnie hags,
He moves from gate to gate
and it feels more like Hades
inside
where he's lost her
so he's been lost.
When he's lost her he's scared
that she will not feel, lost but found.
And he will not feel found-
but destroyed.
Teacups to twirl around
the dance he will swirl her around to
the day that he marries her,
if he can find her,
nay- when he can find her...
he'll put her in the teacup ride and
never let the spinning stop.
He'll fill her life with lights and sounds
and cotton candy
and he'll marry her he will
right on the tiptop
of the ferris wheel
where he sits looking round.
sahn 10/19/14
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 3:13 AM UTC
“I’M THE GUILDFORD GUILDHALL CLOCK I AM!”
Oh I’ve been knocking out time now since…eh….let’s see 1683
Minutes and decades flow through me
The everlasting skies above me.
I’m iconic I am
dressed in my black and gold.
I ( if I may be so bold )
AM GUILDFORD.
The pride of Surrey.
I watch the High Street
as it runs down to that
young whippersnapper statue
THE SCHOLAR or whatever.
People congregate about the chap
eat sandwiches….listen to a busker
busk opera.
Only in Guildford!
But it’s me they look up to!
And is it time for tea?
Why so it is and. . .
citizens clatter over the cobbles.
I’m the Guildford Guildhall clock I am!
Tip! top!
Ticktock!Ticktock! Tiptop!Tip top!
TIP!!!!!!!!!!
TOP!!!!!!!!!
***
Oct 6, 2016
Oct 6, 2016 at 3:41 AM UTC
She Is Long Gone Now & She Matters Not,
Would Her Own Image Ever Forgive Her,
Asking Now From That Celestial Mirror,
The Eyes She Would Never Stare Now,
Is The Pair Of Eyes Belonging To Her.
Hat Belonging To The Dress Man,
And Other Items She Had Worn,
Tiptop As A Dancer She Appeared,
Especially For Their College Fest,
Smallest Issues Saw Her Cousin Separated..
Knowing She Is Deep Inside Her Heart,
Righteous Moral Knowledge Absent,
Into A Never-Ending Pit She Falls,
Pitying Not Myself But I Know It,
Indians She Underestimates...
Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 8:17 AM UTC
Here The Sun Goes Up
And There It Goes Down
There The Moon Is Dope
A Shadow On Your Town
While Raining Heavy Drops
On A ****** Sky Was Drawn
Slowly Dies The Whole Hope
Like A Sign On A Road Unknown
Leads To Hills Through The Tiptop
There Where I Lost My Soul & My Own
Remember When No More Days,
Remember What Caused This Crise
Remember When Love In Your Heart Fade,
Remember There's Nothing Still To Hide,
Time When I Go Far From Your Land
You Should Remember And Be Sad
Time When You Burried What We Had
Even After This Years, I Can't Understand
As An Owl Sending Whispers On The Wind
Straight Light To The Center Of Wonderland
A Hidden Haven Leads To Your Mind
Hides The Screts Of What We Planned
Too Blind To Be The Greatest Ever Told
And Harsh For People From My Kind
Remember When No More Days,
Remember What Caused the Crise
Remember When Love In Your Heart Fade,
Remember There's Nothing Still To Hide,
If I Was Given One Last Moment
Just A Single Shot From The Past
Will Be The Day When We Meet
To Save It For Me No Matter The Cost
The Only Memory That Would Always Last
Such A Treasured Mementos I Kept
The Moment Of Your Smiles Were The Best
The Silence From You As I Wept
Precious Gifts For A Grieving Heart
Then The Dark fall To Complete The Art
Remember When No More Days,
Remember What Caused the Crise
Remember When Love In Your Heart Fade,
Remember There's Nothing Still To Hide,
Very Cold Goes my Soul
As A Dusk In Wishing Hole
While The Body Was A Doll
In Mindless Way & Wonderful
As A Beautiful Kingdom By The Sea
Surrounded By Walls, While People Can't See
Author / Aladdin Aures H.
Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 6:51 AM UTC
“I’M THE GUILDFORD GUILDHALL CLOCK I AM!”
Oh I’ve been knocking out time now since…eh….let’s see 1683
Minutes and decades flow through me
The everlasting skies above me.
I’m iconic I am
dressed in my black and gold.
I ( if I may be so bold )
AM GUILDFORD.
The pride of Surrey.
I watch the High Street
as it runs down to that
young whippersnapper statue
THE SCHOLAR or whatever.
People congregate about the chap
eat sandwiches….listen to a busker
busk opera.
Only in Guildford!
But it’s me they look up to!
And is it time for tea?
Why so it is and. . .
citizens clatter over the cobbles.
I’m the Guildford Guildhall clock I am!
Tip! top!
Ticktock!Ticktock! Tiptop!Tip top!
TIP!!!!!!!!!!
TOP!!!!!!!!!
Oct 6, 2019
Oct 6, 2019 at 5:52 AM UTC
Dear,
Stop drinking beer.
He is still there.
Where? In the air?
He is not there, but here.
But, it is bare.
The Man in the Mirror:
Could you be more clearer?
Dear,
Why don't you stop?
What? Where is this cop?
Uh, huh.
Oh, Cop:
Why are you non-stop?
He is on the tiptop
Of a long drop.
Why, that is just horror.
Do you really have to be full of terror?
But, it is the Man in the Mirror,
Not full of error.
The Man in the Mirror:
Could you be more clearer?
You are not an error,
But terror.
Apr 26, 2020
Apr 26, 2020 at 4:56 PM UTC
Tim tipped toe
to
TIM's TipTop Time
Today.
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 2:26 PM UTC
The words flow into the air
But god **** it hurts my head
And I really don't ******* care
I'm thinking horrible;filled tiptop with dread
Thoughts of the moon
A gentle laugh
Yours I suppose
A lively tune
Heart of desire
Burning like a wild fire
Feb 26, 2016
Feb 26, 2016 at 9:40 PM UTC
Emotion is like the waves of the ocean,
one pushes over another, becoming stronger,
until it reaches the shore, diminishing to bubbles,
and another, another.
Happiness, Sadness, Jealousy, Anger,
none are permanent, none does linger,
time is the best cure of all living things,
and wait is a must we adjust.
Sorrow arrives, greeting us the hello,
down there we feel, empty husk a hollow.
the world is collapsing, this cannot feel worse,
this emotion is at it's apex.
But just as all things at it's tiptop peak,
it now begins to fall.
Nov 10, 2017
Nov 10, 2017 at 12:01 PM UTC