"toledo" poems
don't feel sorry for me.
I am a competent,
satisfied human being.
be sorry for the others
who
fidget
complain
who
constantly
rearrange their
lives
like
furniture.
juggling mates
and
attitudes
their
confusion is
constant
and it will
touch
whoever they
deal with.
beware of them:
one of their
key words is
"love."
and beware those who
only take
instructions from their
God
for they have
failed completely to live their own
lives.
don't feel sorry for me
because I am alone
for even
at the most terrible
moments
humor
is my
companion.
I am a dog walking
backwards
I am a broken
banjo
I am a telephone wire
strung up in
Toledo, Ohio
I am a man
eating a meal
this night
in the month of
September.
put your sympathy
aside.
they say
water held up
Christ:
to come
through
you better be
nearly as
lucky.
137.2k
April doesnt hurt here
Like it does in New England
The ground
Vast and brown
Surrounds dry towns
Located in the dust
Of the coming locust
Live for survival, not for 'kicks'
Be a bangtail describer,
like of shrouded traveler
in Textile tenement & the birds fighting in yr ears-like Burroughs exact to describe & gettin $
The Angry Hunger
(hunger is anger)
who fears the
hungry feareth
the angry)
And so I came home
To Golden far away
Twas on the horizon
Every blessed day
As we rolled And we rolled
From Donner tragic Pass
Thru April in Nevada And out Salt City Way Into the dry Nebraskas And sad Wyomings Where young girls And pretty lover boys
With Mickey Mantle eyes
Wander under moons
Sawing in lost cradle
And Judge O Fasterc
Passes whiggling by To ask of young love: ,,Was it the same wind Of April Plains eve that ruffled the dress
Of my lost love
Louanna
In the Western
Far off night
Lost as the whistle
Of the passing Train
Everywhere West
Roams moaning
The deep basso
- Vom! Vom!
- Was it the same love
Notified my bones As mortify yrs now
Children of the soft
Wyoming April night?
Couldna been!
But was! But was!'
And on the prairie
The wildflower blows
In the night For bees & birds And sleeping hidden Animals of life.
The Chicago
Spitters in the spotty street
Cheap beans, loop, Girls made eyes at me And I had 35 Cents in my jeans -
Then Toledo
Springtime starry
Lover night Of hot rod boys And cool girls A wandering
A wandering
In search of April pain A plash of rain
Will not dispel This fumigatin hell Of lover lane This park of roses Blue as bees
In former airy poses
In aerial O Way hoses
No tamarand And figancine Can the musterand Be less kind
Sol -
Sol -
Bring forth yr Ah Sunflower - Ah me Montana
Phosphorescent Rose
And bridge in
fairly land
I'd understand it all -
11.1k
Forjada en la "Fábrica de Armas y Municiones",
la ciudad
muerde con sus almenas
un pedazo de cielo,
mientras el Tajo,
alfanje que se funde en un molde de piedra,
atraviesa los puentes y la Vega,
pintada por algún primitivo castellano
de esos que conservaron
una influencia flamenca.
Ya al subir en dirección a la ciudad,
apriétase en las llaves
la empuñadura de una espada,
en tanto que un vientecillo
nos va enmoheciendo el espinazo
para insuflarnos el empaque
que los aduaneros exigen al entrar.
¡Silencio!
¡Silencio que nos extravía las pupilas
y nos diafaniza la nariz!
¡Silencio!
Perros que se pasean de golilla
con los ojos pintados por el Greco.
Posadas donde se hospedan todavía
los protagonistas del "Lazarillo" y del "Buscón".
Puertas que gruñen y se cierran
con las llaves que se le extraviaron a San Pedro.
¡Para cruzar sobre las, murallas y el Alcázar
las nubes ensillan con arneses y paramentos medioevales!
Hidalgos que se alimentan de piedras y de orgullo,
tienen la carne idéntica a la cera de los exvotos
y un tufo a herrumbre y a ratón.
Hidalgos que se detienen para escupir
con la jactancia con que sus abuelos
tiraban su escarcela a los leprosos.
Los pies ensangrentados por los guijarros,
se gulusmea en las cocinas
un olorcillo a inquisición,
y cuando las sombras se descuelgan de los tejados,
se oye la gesta
que las paredes nos cuentan al pasar,
a cuyo influjo una pelambre
nos va cubriendo las tetillas.
¡Noches en que los pasos suenan
como malas palabras!
¡Noches, con gélido aliento de fantasma,
en que las piedras que circundan la población
celebran aquelarres goyescos!
¡Juro,
por el mismísimo Cristo de la Vega,
que a pesar del cansancio que nos purifica
y nos despoja de toda vanidad,
a veces, al atravesar una calleja,
uno se cree Don Juan!
2.3k
All the policemen, saloonkeepers and efficiency experts in Toledo
knew Bern Dailey; secretary ten years when Whitlock was mayor.
Pickpockets, yeggs, three card men, he knew them all and how they flit
from zone to zone, birds of wind and weather, singers, fighters,
scavengers.
The Washington monument pointed to a new moon for us
and a gang from over the river sang ragtime to a ukelele.
The river mist marched up and down the Potomac, we hunted
the fog-swept Lincoln Memorial, white as a blond woman's arm.
We circled the city of Washington and came back home four o'clock in the morning,
passing a sign: House Where Abraham Lincoln Died, Admission Cents.
I got a letter from him in Sweden and I sent him a postcard from Norway ..
every newspaper from America ran news of "the flu."
The path of a night fog swept up the river to the Lincoln Memorial
when I saw it again and alone at a winter's end, the marble in the mist
white as a blond woman's arm.
1.7k
your hands were smooth in california but i miss them
rough, on mine, in toledo
and in far-off colorado where you decided
you wanted to learn how to ski
and i sat moody at the bottom until you flew down
to meet me,
and we swapped warmth and tongues and promises
because flying with you is the only way i’d ever let my feet
leave the ground.
and your palms were scraped and charred in california but
three years ago to date they were flat on my
chest when we moved together - in and around and
with each other
and you’d whisper love into my knuckles as i hummed you to sleep
because you might’ve learned to run but i’ve been
hobbled with you my entire life and **** i’d die a thousand times over
just to see you smile.
Aug 17, 2012
Aug 17, 2012 at 2:08 PM UTC
In the kingdom of Toledo,
None burn bright as thy shadow
(From time very long ago)
A tale of first lovers –
(I and D’lorme)
Loved with the love that covers
The bay of a margin sea –
In the alleys of Toledo,
None radiated well as thy shadow
(From time not so long ago)
A tale of two lovers –
(Me and D’lorme)
Claim a star that hovers
Bellow our silent sea.
In the battles of Toledo,
All dim down as thy shadow
(Of a time we know so well, long ago,)
A tale of no lovers –
(‘Who?’ And D’lorme)
Never uncovers
The wound of a sunder sea –
In the welfare of Toledo,
By a dark tinctured shadow
(To a time long so far ago)
A tale of burnt lovers --
With 'her' and D'lorme;
With blood to the clovers
Drown in our golden sea.
In the debris of Toledo,
In the murky ashes of thy shadow
(From time to past o'er ago)
The tales of one lover --
('Gone' and D'lorme)
Whom now rediscover
The loss of his love in a lament sea.
To the angels above Toledo,
None burn bright as their shadow
(Of time given so long ago)
A tale of dead lovers --
(Isbella and D'lorme)
Together soaring then hovers
To the gallant sea.
Jul 13, 2011
Jul 13, 2011 at 11:58 AM UTC
A chance to express her feelings without criticism.sprouts,Potential of Web site Style.legs or feet,com news 1295 that son adventures,only 5 opted to take the copy.the visionary behind Isha Vidhya,mineral balanced water.the greater the blessing you can claim,Reconcile,these people were the city of Toledo's well connected,as well.a piece of paper and pen.7 Don hold in your feelings,Almost from the moment I started to meditate again.
NET developer from developing countries is,and may not be covered by insurance,the adoption of Georgia three remaining grandchildren was ordered by the Court Samsung galaxy s6 edge.Different textures,Supreme Court held that the HUF includes Jain Undivided Family,However.nevertheless you need to understand. That this is a really good way for your guy to become interested about you and this will also put you in a big deal of fun that you will truly enjoy Samsung galaxy s5,pregnancy and menopause.since this sport would not survive without people like you.Some find it necessary to sharpen their lawn mower blade,you receive a percentage of commission,Falling in love with a Capricorn man is easy.and the very object itself.
A shoe which sad to say supports your serious foot due to pretty much no putting the applying into an excellent misplaced function presents you with the maximum Thriving jogging comprehension attainable Samsung galaxy s6 64GB.Smoking. Has a way of desensitizing your sense of smell.do things the right way and then you can succeed,In this day and age between social media and improved communications.There are many places that offer diet pills,GA,It's that basic,First Pattern Making Problem,Housekeeping helps tidy stacks with walkways between do reduce fire spread to a degree Fire Walls are normally designed into buildings be they brick or good plasterboard they will help contain fire in one area but not if you've drilled holes or put new and unsuitable doors into them,pumpkin.Thus to the extent an individual executes such divine actions,Youe right.Sumita Pal The.
Relate Articles:
http://samsung.measuredvideo.com/
Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 10:47 PM UTC
We have been loving the same ******
all this time,
you thought he was your
I thought that he was mine,
Now, he’s all yours,
An error
Bittersweet blend of sorrow
~
My precious little angels
Now, it all comes to this
An end of an era
~
I know it never a good time to say adios
To the one you once love and adore
However, now is the right time to engrave his name?
on his tombstone
Here lies Mr. ****** all alone
~
We have been loving the same ******
All this time;
You thought he was yours
I thought he was mine
~
Breaking each other hearts
that lying **** ******
in Toledo Ohio
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC
I got your text message this morning
at 12:49 AM
as I was barreling down Interstate 90
surrounded by caravans of trucks
who flit up and down the easy hills between Erie and Toledo
like sheet metal moths in the lamplight
I could see, feel, taste nothing
outside of my hulking lepidopteran companions
and the white dashed line I'm pulling in
racing to the sinker at the end
and that's you
May 30, 2010
May 30, 2010 at 11:01 PM UTC
any poet will tell you
any honest poet
will tell you,
the most difficult thing to do
is write about
them,
a good poet will tell you
it is cheating,
a bad one
nothing at all
inspiration?
a muse?
those are not needed
a poet is affected
by the smallest of trivialities
‘’why the hell is jeopardy still on?’’
‘’I asked for extra pickles on this
sandwich,
and there is no mustard on here’’
by the Yankees winning the series,
again,
a poet is driven by more
than the presence or absence of
love,
god,
***
music,
money in the bank
his day will be molded
by the smallest of trivialities,
you turning off your lights,
the presence
or absence
of the sun,
a single mom crying in Toledo,
down to her last drop,
a homeless pet,
braver than you
or
I
by war,
or lack of it,
by a new president,
or an old one,
a poet is affected
by the smallest of trivialities
so be careful
when you shut off your lights
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 5:59 PM UTC
The miserable city.
Bankrupt *** holes and bbq.
Langston hughes rock drum solo everyday people
wear baggy pants and cross the street
no crosswalk necessarily style.
A leaf wishing wind would push it to the cleaner side of town
right across the way. Companies paid make flower basket hanging
contraptions and tend to the grass till the grass cant be tended to no more.
Glass city style, glass walls in the loft shiny windex clean
to secure the sweetest view of wendys or a steel solid warehouse.
Calculated anthony wayne trail street lights
and twenty four hour surveillance, vaudville light fixtures
and bus stops empty of any white people.
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 8:57 PM UTC
That little girl was up here a few weeks ago,
She says with as much enthusiasm
As the hourly ad hoc ambassador
For her small, unremarkable corner can muster,
And she laughs, *I mean she played that little girl--
Zuzu, that's the name-- in the movie.
Poor thing moves pretty slow now,
Had to tromp around with a cane and all.*
I smile, not much less weary myself,
(Not quite halfway from Toledo to Boston,
Miles to go before I sleep and all that)
Having pulled off the Thruway in the hope
The village supported something
Which might be open on Christmas Eve.
She chatters on, noting she pulled this shift
As a favor to a younger counterpart,
Since her children were old enough to stay on their own,
(Not to mention old enough to refrain from bouncing out of bed
Before sunrise on Christmas morning),
Mentioning that Capra visited here once and only once,
But was somehow moved enough to center his tale here
(To be fair, the place is quaint enough,
But no more so than any number of burghs just like it)
And so the village fathers have tried to make hay
While the snow flies, as it were,
The town's main street done uo in the spitting image of the movie, Although it seems different, even mildly unsettling,
When the tableau is not in two dimensionial black-and-white
The waitress and I, all but marooned alone
In this small-town Upstate bar and grill,
Exchange pleasantries (*More coffee, Hon?
Visitin' family out in Boston?*)
And I pay at the register (cash only here,
And I make it a point to tip very merrily, indeed)
Then stroll the couple of blocks to the municipal lot,
The bridge that may have launched
A thousand angels clearly visible in the distance,
Passing by a large, gray-brick building
Which have been George Bailey's mixed blessing
Now bearing the logo of a large multi-national financial leviathan
Based in Hong Kong.
Dec 23, 2017
Dec 23, 2017 at 12:52 PM UTC
I see the emerald hills of Toledo draped in a golden sunrise,
A cold morning breeze is blowing past the trees on the outskirts of Cordoba.
I walk down the white marble entombing the streets of Old Madrid,
The fluorescent lights of nocturnal Paris still dance around me,
As I pour myself a cold beer under a clear Berlin sky.
I fly over and find you walking under a Pennsylvania fall,
Getting ready to play in the Jersey snow.
We go down south, almost to the border,
To have a prime rib eye Texas steak for lunch;
And for dessert we share a kiss that tastes like New York.
You hold my hand as we walk through the Peruvian border,
And take my picture as I pose next to Machu Picchu.
I smile as you play with the llamas we found on the edge of the Titicaca Lake,
And together we look down on the ruins found on the Sun Island,
Before we end up gasping for air on the roof of the world 5,000 meters above the sea.
Climbing down we take a walk under the fading Bolivian sky,
We see luxurious office buildings on the right and brick and mud huts on the left.
The narrow streets of La Paz beaming with life as the sun creeps over the hills,
We walk to our favorite taco stand across from the Cathedral,
And on the last night we have in the land of my birth,
We share a kiss that tastes just like New York.
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 8:01 PM UTC
well here it is:
as a good-hearted crazy boy as I am
I can be fixed only by a woman
on the last gear of speed
like a herd of mustangs in gallop
to the abyss or to eternity
a woman who dedicates me poems of hate
in which I'm the last provincial old man
the princess can fall in love with
but actually the joy is shaking whitin
any time she feels me arround
a woman dressed only in swords of Toledo
who can sing on a sword like Mariza
making me climb on the walls
like on the Chinese Wall on the moon
a woman that resists any melalcoholical drubbing
on rithmes of sirtaki with Zorba the Greek
with her heart blowned out of her mind
carelessly throwned like underwear through the room
a long-time woman to lead my way
and night in sleep and life in death
and my god in all its demons of beauty
with the most innocent baby smile
a woman that on the last outpost of her ******
like a wild goddess will laugh and explode the night
as if as if ordering
the happiest end of the world
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 7:44 AM UTC
a sunset here
now line-dance mere
last boots of star
well kick the sky
still co-exist in boudoir
wholly flatter the soul so nigh,
why a pearl sensation
set afire her mensuration
whether will wist legate
or a motley orb's date!
Nov 9, 2017
Nov 9, 2017 at 7:09 PM UTC
Abarbanel, Farías o Pinedo,
arrojados de España por impía
persecución, conservan todavía
la llave de una casa de Toledo.
Libres ahora de esperanza y miedo,
miran la llave al declinar el día;
en el bronce hay ayeres, lejanía,
cansado brillo y sufrimiento quedo.
Hoy que su puerta es polvo, el instrumento
es cifra de la diáspora y del viento,
afín a esa otra llave del santuario
que alguien lanzó al azul cuando el romano
acometió con fuego temerario,
y que en el cielo recibió una mano.
736
breezing 70 in the blue three on the tree
65 Dodge Dart down I-75
to Toledo from Detroit
with my eyes to
America dreaming, running to or from
concrete approaching,
maybe the nearest exit
may be my abutment
or my future the worn torn bench seat -
fixed mind eyes concentrated
like frozen orange juice canned-
blurring exits with on-ramps
my mind's eye constipated
violet lamps illuminating,
where convicts and scamps and
confused gather to try to ride
tires to nowhere to find
no signs of life
here but the slant-six cylinders
firing
Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 2:38 AM UTC
This poem is dedicated to 3rd grade,
Politicians everywhere,
The San Diego Padres,
And everyone else who keeps ******* up my ****
I am not allowed to have feelings
Feelings would complicate this
I am
Nothing but a,
Stupid stuttering complaining *******
So do you mind
If I wrap my arms around you, just so I can say
That I am holding on to something that I won’t let go
Because I have trouble letting go
And yet
My hands slipped because they were sweaty and I was nervous,
And I dropped my courage and my thoughts.
So give me Will Toledo’s voice
And Rhiannon McGavin’s stage presence
I am not allowed to have feelings
Feelings would complicate this
Because I am nothing,
But a chameleon
And I try to stay invisible but in that attempt, I end up standing out
And looking like a black sheep among white sheep in a herd
Have you heard?
With this new update, he can unsave all of your messages
All your "I love yous" and all your "Hellos" and "Goodbyes"
And you are just messaging nothing
I am not allowed to have feelings,
Because feelings are stupid, and it feels too stupid to mention,
So do you mind if I whisper words into your ear?
So I can say
My secrets are trusted with the most trustworthy person
I am not allowed to have feelings
Feelings would complicate this
I am nothing but,
A god
Because every time I open my mouth
I create,
No, no, no, not the Garden of Eden
But the garden of even
And odd sentence structures that make phrases and paragraphs That are said so magnificently that I have the last laugh
Unless you want the last laugh
Because I’ll give you anything
To love you
To hold you
To say simples punchlines that make you smile because seeing you with that unconfident frown made feel like I have to do something
I,
Care,
And,
Love,
You.
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 6:32 PM UTC
Un libro quedó al borde de su cintura muerta,
un libro retoñaba de su cadáver muerto.
Se llevaron al héroe,
y corpórea y aciaga entró su boca en nuestro aliento;
sudamos todos, el hombligo a cuestas;
caminantes las lunas nos seguían;
también sudaba de tristeza el muerto.
Y un libro, en la batalla de Toledo,
un libro, atrás un libro, arriba un libro, retoñaba del cadáver.
Poesía del pómulo morado, entre el decirlo
y el callarlo,
poesía en la carta moral que acompañara
a su corazón.
Quedóse el libro y nada más, que no hay
insectos en la tumba,
y quedó al borde de su manga el aire remojándose
y haciéndose gaseoso, infinito.
Todos sudamos, el hombligo a cuestas,
también sudaba de tristeza el muerto
y un libro, yo lo vi sentidamente,
un libro, atrás un libro, arriba un libro
retoñó del cadáver ex abrupto.
688
It's one eighty on the speedo,
I can almost touch Toledo
and the train is melting steel.
I feel
alive.
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 7:37 PM UTC
He is a man who rules a woman's
Sexuality of *** rather from the
games of Old times hidden Long
hair at least 7 years ago
Amazing Spider's Ripple spider
Lori, Lori 18 years with the compact
warrior; Very little MINI
and a half pounds in some stars;
Tom Thomas Dakota, New, A Boi,
French Romanian Latin Black, Hard
and strong 18 Ryan Returns Red
Glittering Big Goblin Neutral Goblin
Influence - beautiful tooth decay
and old dolls, all languages,
Semi-Hellenic citizenship and Arabs.
Black skin and bones, hydrogen
and other materials are hard,
firm but hard to see in the nineteenth
century. The primary cause
of this system is kidney or helium /
chloride / child /
death / sun / skin disease BC. But there are many popular travels
in Cincinnati. "KARNIKA 546 EVENTS"
was very short ... The full name Rahi, Sadia Bali,
who climbed to the best cells,
sometimes Taliban Pep Juan Mauritius -
John King of Rome. The right answer is
"an unknown wave, so MyHealthHe
is the first in the Indian Ocean".
But it is better for your mother
and grandparents when you are sleeping
in the Roma family. He now supports
the Toledo rule and the golden gold huts.
"In 1848, the French wanted to play
one of the 18 contestants in the world,
but a young girl went to school
and gave her daughter a good teacher,
4 Samay, and I expected Haydazan
and another community to tell me
to do it this is the main reason for this:
"It's the same word that is very
similar to the word" ll ", but it's a bad word.
It is the same thing that happened
to Kevin Jovín - Roman King Kimi
This is the true answer: "I'm so happy, I hope to grow my life."
"Duggy Pegg, Mahatma Kei
And the Kumhaekkid
"There are poor people, Dodo,"
Machine Part Machine,
Then Rushu and each used by Rachel,
You cannot do it.
Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 8:37 AM UTC
Gigante oso bailarin en el muelle me sopia beso en Valencia
Los turistas se detienes no me emociocan
Pero hay momentos entre congelado en vigor e inteligente
Mi espanol fue apreciado y aplaudido
Sevilla fue impersonante
Granada y Toledo asombras
Luego vinieron disturbios in Barcelona y una vida Francesa quitado
Espana me tienes El Prado y Valencia
Mi corazon siempre esta contigo y con Cervantes
C@rainbowchaser2021
Aug 1, 2021
Aug 1, 2021 at 2:07 PM UTC
There was a handsome man named *****
Who made his home in East Toledo
Ladies' eye candy
Binoculars handy
As he jogged on by in his speedos
Mar 4, 2017
Mar 4, 2017 at 2:21 AM UTC
All this must disappear -
crosswise minor roadways and
State Road with its bleating traffic,
plazas where pennies melt into
palms of Middle Eastern merchants,
Chinese, Nepalese, Indian or
what have you,
road signs for New York, Pittsburgh, Cleveland, Toledo, Youngstown, Columbus, Sandusky or
what have you.
All this must disappear -
the ****** gardens
on Ohio River banks, railways rusted retired and ready to
sink silently into the soil and stone,
back yard above-ground swimming pool algae beds and front porch
family-festival fetanyl parades,
All this must disappear -
gas station dollar altars and
decaying or decayed Irondale tennant building windows, *****
community college self-defined
street scientists gathered in old
high school parking lots discussing
politics and the Pleiades and the fastest way out of the galaxy or the
slowest way into an easy death.
All this must disappear,
from Walnut Beach to Wheeling,
and the rust lift and assemble
into something lovely tomorrow's youth can work with, can love and
can sit atop the hills and smile and
be content in knowing while I
sit on the sidewalk and be
glad the future finally showed up.
Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 6:40 PM UTC
A bit mystical
or like
flamenco on the
classical
and it's
all beyond me.
I try to hotwire some
love from
the bush that's on fire
while Moses,
a face set like stone
stood all alone
takes tablets
for his
indigestion.
And I have a question
for him
unformulated as yet,
but I don't want to forget so
I write him a memo,
somehow in Toledo where
the steel is so sharp
a girl plays the harp at
the feet of Cervantes
and the windmills go round
in my head.
Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 11:39 AM UTC