"toucan" poems
Tell me who can
Catch a toucan?
Lou can.
Just how few can
Ride the toucan?
Two can.
What kind of goo can
Stick you to the toucan?
Glue can.
Who can write some
More about the toucan?
You can!
21.5k
full circle
I'm laying here with the window open listening to the rain for secrets or something or waiting for you to tell me what you haven't been telling me
like maybe there really is a girl out there with love in her eyes and flowers in her hair and her eyes are the kind of blue that is never mistaken for grey
she touches your chin before she kisses you, real softly or maybe she traces the spot above your lip where we all know angels rested their fingers before we were sent down here to rot or thrive
maybe you talk about gardens with her, how you'd never ever own an orchid cause that ***** ex of yours demanded one every hospital visit
how flowers aren't for boys but you'll pretend to watch football while you're really watching her bend down to touch the dirt like she used to smooth her baby brothers hair out of his little eyes
before their parents decided that it was more convenient to buy them a little apartment and keep money in the safe while they spent their pensions in Florida watching alligators and Dolphins and toucan ******* Sam but never at the same time
you see, I don't drink earl grey cause it tastes like fruit loops
and I don't eat fruit loops cause it tastes like the childhood I erased from my memory by forcing myself to dissociate
maybe this, is something else altogether
maybe this... is not true, another delusion, maybe your hands are busy counting change out for cardboard signs
maybe your feet move a little bit faster, not because you're in a rush to see someone who isn't me but because you're so scared of ending up back where you started
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 7:00 PM UTC
O pulchritudinous, for infinite climaxes
For bilious spasms of pigswill
For puce Popacatepetl pedigrees
Above the perverted pampas!
America! America! Allah excreted his curses on thee
And bang thy ****** in company with Islamic monk, from brothel to gay red—light district
O pulchritudinous, for spaceman bottoms
Whose **** throbbing tapeworm
A toucan crossing for slipperiness spifflicate
Across the intergalactic space!
America! America! Allah enrich thine ev’ry vice
Reinvigorate thy ****** *********** inside monolithic ectoplasm, thy merrymaking inside pyramid!
O pulchritudinous, for freaks got fat
In disentangling feeding frenzy
Who more than ***** their brothel slobbered over
And velvet glove more than backbone!
America! America! May Allah thy blonde exhaust
Till all rave reviews be disreputableness and ev’ry come superhuman
O pulchritudinous, for chauvinist muscleman
That smells wide of the fourth dimension
Thine lathery brothels lick
Polished using giant armadillo excrement!
America! America! Allah excreted his curses on thee
And bang thy ****** in company with Islamic monk from brothel to gay red—light district
Mar 25, 2010
Mar 25, 2010 at 5:22 PM UTC
I am Bear Lady
and you are Toucan Man —
Fur and feathered backs
against a striped tent.
Cut-off like tickets,
crowds melting Dali-like
in the distance
from crystalline eyes,
frozen in time…
Wings graze skin and
fur can’t compete.
The electricity of
our eccentricity
is freakish,
yet with every touch,
I feel less like a freak.
My history
of hoop jumping
tightrope walking,
and captivity
dissolve transparently
as I search deep,
deep,
deep,
into supernova eyes —
they outshine
this circus life,
this love for applause,
the performance inside.
As I gaze into
frozen pools,
the broken chords
of carny music
da da da-da-da-da drown.
The morning quiet,
muddled coffee grinds
are sensitive and silent,
chilling me to the soul.
Earth, a peripheral,
to pupils that absorb
mine full-force,
until I can’t see
this galaxy anymore,
save green starbursts,
my light source.
Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 12:18 PM UTC
Like one of those birds with their long beaks,
their vivid colours and beautiful wings.
Just like a numerous amount of things,
everything, even this, has its own peaks.
Enjoying their lives and living free
instead of my kind, not leaving their tree.
I fancy their ways and habits a lot,
Trying to be a part of that, easy it is not.
How can I ever put some of myself inside that dream?
How can I ever be good enough to reach the bar that is set?
How can I ever add up, live up to the thought?
Even though it strides with how I am wrought.
And then it came to me in a bright gleam.
And if she agrees, then my equal is met.
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 6:53 PM UTC
As leaves of crimson fall,
& bleed like cherry wine
sleeping parrot greens,
they overtake mind,
I quietly approach,
set up a sneaky blind,
I spot a toucan looking tree
in colors rarely seen
it takes my breath away
in soft & brilliant sheens,
showing off the beauty,
& creating quite a scene,
Amber hues of mustard,
blending in with rust,
others look like wheat
that was baked inside a crust,
so telling you about it,
is something that I must,
Burning up the sky
in flamingo sunset pink
as if I'm in the Tropic's
just sippin' down a drink,
look at all the colors,
just amazing,
don't you think?
Like a lovely bird of paradise
is landing in my hair,
so I can write it down
a story we can share,
I'm jotting down the words,
like Ginger & Astaire,
Out arift upon the skies
I hear the weeping willow
I close my eyes to dream
& lay on leafy pillows
like sheets of iridescent,
quoting as they billow,
I stand in admiration,
a journey that I applaud
sent to me from heavens
from hands, a loving God,
leaves today are burning
stand mystified & awed
So beautiful & grand
your plumage is at peak,
waving me dear willow
I softly hear her speak,
Listen to the sounds
as they open up their beak
Go press a few examples
to savor every day
listen very closely
to every word I say
you take 'em out again
when the skies are turning grey
Cherie Nolan© 2016
Oct 21, 2016
Oct 21, 2016 at 9:03 AM UTC
delightful, full sky of
orange, ranged from
rumbling tangerine
to toucan’s beak, eek-out a
shore horizon zenly leaning and
a sun sunk
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 2:19 PM UTC
Deer loved one
Please bear with me,
owl bee with ewe as soon as possum bull.
Rhino that things have been on paws lately
bat remember I toad you;
Toucan always find me some plaice warm in your heart
if I'm not lion there beside you.
Giraffe nothing to fear, no one can break the lynx we've made.
Mine is a love that'll never panda, narwhal it
hound any other sole but jaws and yours alone.
You're the porpoise I wake up every morning.
Wren all otter things are bleak, you're my ray of sunshine.
You let minnow weevil always have each other.
With you, newt time passes but stops still.
Love you with vole of my heart
ant i'll never desert you.
Until hen Gobi good
Yours truly
...
Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 6:40 PM UTC
Years of personal experience,
I made my recommendation,
but the know-it-all didn't listen,
he bought the canary-colored backpack anyway.
I chuckled under my breath,
thinking how
every toucan in the jungle
was going to be chasing him
on his dream vacation
to the jungle.
Idiot.
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 3:01 PM UTC
I didn't start the food fight
yet I got hit in the head with a can soda
I'm just glad it was a soft drink
it flew at me like an owl hunting its pray
I now realize that toucan play at this game
I also swallowed some food coloring
I'm OK, but I feel like I've dyed a little inside
Nov 29, 2016
Nov 29, 2016 at 11:10 PM UTC
sometimes it's heaven,
sometimes it's hell,
I hope I pick the right one
if not, oh well.
I tried to play nice,
But it didn't work out,
sittin in back with a bucket of ice
with my held held high
you're gonna kiss my ***
while i kiss the sky
vindictive by nature
can't supress who i am
with my nose in the air
i'm like toucan sam
I'm a free spirit
and i don't really care
if you don't want to hear it
cause i'm free, free fallin'
enjoyin every minute of it
kickin back with a bottle of ***
if you're against me **** you
if you're with me get some
i don't like handouts
so hand it to me
gonna play these strings
like you can't believe
brings tears to your eyes
brings you to your knees
if i stop
you'll be begging me
please , please, please
I need more, more, more
like you can't get enough
like an unused *****
I tried to play nice
but it didn't work out
no it didn't work out
Jan 19, 2012
Jan 19, 2012 at 9:02 PM UTC
I've stopped caring if people call me Mr.
I'm resigned sometimes to fade away
like a moldy apple rotting quietly in the bin
it was only a taste of me that ever counted
but I'm not done yet
(sigh)
babies...this is the rowdy bus ride
on the long windy island road
shouting holy ****
as the driver power swerves around the sunday driving couple
in a flash, white knuckled eye to eye with the semi driver
not even surprised
that we are colliding
no-one else seems to notice
this ride ends too,
a red house on a hillside over looking the pacific
monkey toucan sloth
a private pool
infinity style, ends at the edge and tumbles into what
nothing to signify
no goals met
I'm just alive,
perhaps underachieving,
this number on my check is a third of last years take
maybe I'm not charging enough
maybe I'm working too hard or not eating
I've gained no weight since college
and I barely seem to care
I learn night moves, sometimes I can sing
fearless full throated belts
a sign in some ohio river town
in front of some church
that some people still go to
and maybe get charged at the door
says
pray ceaselessly
they say
yoga is a way of being
a person goes to the gym for an hour
but what about the other 23
I keep my back straight and my breath full
and count a days labor
for ******* in my *****
and keeping my triangles engaged
just like Bomchew and Paul taught me
an old lady smiles at me in a white stair case, calls me cowboy
she said she saw me standing in court
a judge threatening to throw me in jail
and said to herself
now theres a man
Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 4:03 PM UTC
Compiled of all the parts
No one wishes to have
Fiery ropes that refuse to rest
Spidery fingers that worry too much
Freckles etching countless constellations undiscovered
Eyelashes that a cactus wouldn't be proud of
Emerald eyes, woeful, or so I've been told,
that reflect all the unsung symphonies of the past
and of the yet to come
Long, awkward torso that curves in all the wrong places
Skin paler and mire transparent than the surface of a pond
Dancer's thighs with an octogenarian's knees
The smile of a Chinese ten-year-old
paired with the beak of a toucan.
That, at least, is good for something:
Sniffing out your lies and following them
through the thick blue veins that map
straight to my heart.
Apr 27, 2010
Apr 27, 2010 at 1:53 PM UTC
A stampede of elephants
Running through the rooms of my mind
As their legless bodies ask
"How?"
A toucan flies to rest on a thought
With two million and two branches reaching towards my heart.
"How many cans can a toucan can if a toucan could can cans?"
Now this monkey must be joking
Those are my feelings he's holding.
And he continues to toss them about.
He peels off the skin and throws it over his shoulder
And takes one big bite out of the happiest one.
And this little duck waddles,
Left foot, right foot.
The left side is fine, but his right
Sends a nerve that clenches a fist to a glass window.
"Quack, quack."
Snip snap,
And there goes the vertebrae in my spine.
Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 1:02 AM UTC
*I dreamed an ocean one day,
Soft like silk, pouring through your fingers.
Satin, woven from the promised land.
In the thread, joyful echos, stained.
I dreamed of days under the topaz sunset.
I chirped to a toucan.
A beautifully colored bird.
Smart. Mute.
She chirped back.
I was in the Neverlands.
I dreamed of royal parades.
A mirage of Chiefs & they're daughters.
Horses for manpower.
Monthly packages of flour & sugar.
Life was equally labored.
I dreamed of being an Author of Poetry.
Sitting in some tower.
Seeing the world beneath my shoeless feet.
Writing,
A future.*
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 1:11 PM UTC
There's this girl, nothing like a toucan, she's better.
With a blue bowtie in her long brown hair she
still mesmerises me every day and I let her.
But there is another guy with whom she'd rather be.
And every day she smiles at me with her twinkling
eyes and gentle stare making me experience the slightest tinkling
And whenever she says hi or just anything at all
I float, I climb my big white cloud hoping not to fall.
It starts to storm, another cloud turns up out of the blue
and another, but these aren't white, they're grey and
larger than mine, larger than I ever dreamt of one to be.
I must seek a lower cloud to chase because
the higher your hopes and cloud rise, the stronger
the pain that flows through you when you collapse
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 4:04 PM UTC
this time something feels different
this time i'm an angry toucan spitting eager saliva & i want you to rip my plastic beak off & whisper secrets into my slippery face
this time i'm an open book & i want you to place your fingertips on my soft worn pages & read me between the lines forever
i want you to be a magnifying glass mirror to show me my inconsistencies made of stretched wool fibers and hemp and wood held together by shiny clots of ink oil and glue
this time i'm an open door numb with apprehension & i want you to surge into the threshold of my bare bones like a molecular flash flood burglary polishing my darkest stained corners with spiraling velocity
this time i'm an oak sapling planted in your backyard spinning & dazzling in the sunlight & i want you to water me daily so i can grow
with you to unbelievable heights & suddenly sprout flowers from my sinewy arms
this time i'm a babbling brook cascading over slick brown rocks on a lush hillside & i want you to stir the moon like the wind & listen appreciate my serene grace
because this time i need someone whose lips
can be a tissue to the tears on my soft cheeks
before they turn cold & calloused
i need someone to sink their teeth into my
shoulders & collarbone to wake me
from this superfluous daydream
i need someone who beds naturally
into the ribcage nest of my plaid flannel shirt
i need someone who will dance with me
across an empty landscape into
something bigger & deeper
than just the starless sky above us
i need someone who wants to learn
the overlapping language of my eyes & hands
someone who will lounge with me
like an odalisque on the birth-bed of aphrodite
drenched in the shivers of the moon canopy
someone who can blur the lines
between my cerebrum & theirs
so that we become a stitched together
quilt of soft memories in our imagination
someone who has been in a trainwreck before
& knows precisely where to kiss
to make it all better
Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 11:43 AM UTC
^¡^
everyone has a voice here
every note will flow
some of us are nightingales
some of us are crows
some of us are magpies
collecting shiny things
some of us canaries
which in the coalmine sing
some of us are larks
singing in the copse
some of us are ravens
gathered 'round a corpse
some are Laughing *******
who scream to beat the band
some of us are ostrich
with our heads in sand
some of us can "Twitter"
how we love our "tweets"!
some of us are silly coots
with funny orange feet!
some of us are toucan
with beaks that are outgrown
some of us are parrots
with a beak that's not our own
some of us are robins
hopping on the lawn
some of us are lovely
angelic, graceful swans
some of us are mockingbirds
yes, you could fit that bill
some are birds with feathers
which make a lovely quill
some of us are peacocks
great beauties, but a bore
some of us are hawks
which o'r deep canyons soar
some of us are eagles
symbols of our call
I welcome you to
birdland
where we are poets
ALL
SoulSurvivor
(C) 2/4/2016
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 11:45 AM UTC
what
tantalizing
pecan smile of
the
toucan's bill
a blend of
jet black
red
and
blue feathers
just
a pinch of
peach yellow
upon their chest
and
you can
hear them
chatter
while
they rest
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 11:29 AM UTC
Cap't Crunch jumped off the gangplank, as Tony Tiger, sped on through
Toucan Sam, flew overhead, Count Chocula in shadow, passing thru
Sugar Bear cannot move slowly, even though, that's how he speaks
Lucky Charms are not for children, as Lucky, often squeaks
The cuckoo called Sonny, could not control his bouncing fits
Refined sugar in the cereal, creating hyped up sugared twits
It's bound to be a precursor, an ending yet un-shown
Alzheimer's in old age, as all the studies yet unknown
Oct 24, 2016
Oct 24, 2016 at 9:52 PM UTC
A toucan flies to rest on a thought,
Branches reaching towards my heart.
Carcasses of childhood memories filled rooms with
Doors locked from the inside.
"Evacuate the premises, nothing to see here" a sign reads
Forlorn and tainted, stitched into the side of my psyche
Graves engraved with unsaid prayers.
Is life an option, when all I feel is the weight of my
Heavy, unrested eyes?
Jeopardize my future.
**** my hopes and dreams.
Living with
Manic Depression
Never allows the reassurance of stability
Or survival within the ocean of sentiment.
Parking lots outside the windows of my soul hold drunk spirits
Quarreling under a street light, broken beer bottles as their words.
Room for one more troubled soul?
Sure, come on in, 've poured so much of myself into people and
They still see the glass as half empty.
Uncrown me of my halo and tie it like a noose around my neck.
Veiled threats of "it'll get better" and "this too shall pass"
When? There's no pill for who you are.
X marks the spot doesn't it?
Yeah, sure.
Zoos hold less animals than the inside of my head.
Nov 15, 2017
Nov 15, 2017 at 9:50 PM UTC
In the early morning
The larimar sky
Stretches out
Over the ashes of the night
While the clouds
Retted stalks of calcite
Do their toucan crosswalk
Over her duckcloth.
And the sun
A golden mattenklopper
Sprays a burst
Of painted flames
On the trees and grass beneath
And life is
Clean and fresh
And ready
For this new day.
For so long
I have been looking away
Looking forward
While my eyes
Might have been
Filled up
With the beauty
Of all
That is
In the here and now.
Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 2:24 PM UTC
All round my hat I wear a lot of badges,
all round my hat, for many and many a day.
A disc of abalone shell from New Zealand;
a jester’s mask decorated with four glittering glass jewels (Venice,
though we weren’t there for the carnival) :
the Stars and Stripes, given to me in New York
in the weeks after 9/11, when you could hardly move
for huge examples of the national flag;
three lions, for England;
a bull, for Spain, even though I hate bull-fighting;
a liner (Alaska Cruise,2000, but we've done other cruises) :
and a gold-coloured jet plane, for all the journeys we have made;
a small badge of a very large statue, Christ the Redeemer (Rio) :
the seashell of St James, with his special cross on it
(Santiago de Compostela, though we didn’t walk the Camino) :
a very tiny badge of the ****** of Guadalupe in Mexico;
and a shiny gold-coloured outline of a dove
(Carcassonne cathedral) representing the Holy Spirit;
King Kong, my biggest badge, appropriately:
a smaller-scale hero, Winnie-the-Pooh, a gift from my daughter:
a koala decorated in crushed opal (Australia) :
a stripy cat on a tartan ribbon (Edinburgh) :
a dolphin from the Azores, though we didn’t see any there,
(but we have seen dolphins, so it counts twice) :
a miniature cookie-cutter in the shape of a moose (Canadian rockies)
– but it would make impossibly small cookies;
a toucan (Costa Rica) and a puffin (Iceland)
admiring each other’s beaks;
heroes of the Revolution: Chairman Mao, bought in Beijing:
the Hồ Chí Minh League of Youth badge (Vietnam) :
the star representing Yugoslavia,
though even when I bought it
Yugoslavia was no longer a country;
the face of Che Guevara, looking handsome and intense (Cuba) :
and not forgetting the daddy of them all,
Lenin, on a red and flaming star;
the Hand of Fatima (Tunisia) for luck;
and the Eye of Horus (Egypt) ,
because you can’t have too much luck.
And if anybody asks me the reason why I wear them,
they remind me of places – and people – that are far, far away.
Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 4:03 AM UTC