"tues" poems
tues.
exhausted piano teeth mozart pere
gnashing slashing sound barrier
stretching zoology beyond the bird
cannibals in the a-z azimuth
weds.
mirage of red awnings all-night resort
cannibals in the azimuth stairwell décor
thurs.
cold as leprosy embraced
yet somehow curled
fri.
frail departure voice to ****
height hair duck drake
cold as geology young rocks flame
(hidden within the blink of eye)
4.9k
Where are you off to? A pickup game inside a palm?
Punishing heaven? Well why didn't I think of it?
Perfectly absolutely incredibly perfect...kind of.
Because John says excuse me every single time you poke him in the head.
Because the lemon juice-making machine is frozen for now.
Because I can't reach my grapes or my Florida anymore.
So cheers to you.
Cheers to your weekend gettaways
and your Friday gettaways
and your Thursday gettaways
and your wens,tues,mondays gettaways
They aren't here anymore.
They've left.
or you've compromised for Saturday
Florida has made an appeal for mercy from the
ghhhh
grand jury.
...close enough.
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 12:45 PM UTC
365Nectar #8 Crescent City Blues
Tues. Oct 1,2013 10:21 P.M.
In the deepest attic
the thumping blues
paint pastel portraits
of the Crescent City
In burning ripples
words slap strangers
taking refuge in Armstrong Park
Slender, **** and Shorty
growl muted tones that ravage old bones
whip thru Mid-City
and saunter thru the Garden District
all just practice to sizzle in a wild tap dance in the Quarter
High steppin Indians
march toward God
and defy gravity.
Roaring second line
being led by woman powered Pinettes Brass Band
hold rush hour traffic hostage for days
belting greasy mingling tunes
in the eye of the dusty moon
A pitch black struggle
with the old moon
liberated old souls
entangled in soaked strings
and sobbing fingers
A quintet churns and
challenges the loneliness of pain
Strumming fingers
make out with
humming strings
under a starry blue grey sky
Stomping down long black Oak-lined roads
blowing thru shotgun homes
like winter cold howling
lifting heavy weights
from shoulders
like the sun shifting against bad weather
the blues lady
open the veins
of drunken roses
Lungs full of tears
Irma holla's, cries, and moans remedies
north south east and west of a street called Desire
Oh Etta
At Last
Dim Misty light
cast a heavy shadow
on wiggling spirits
as they cast off pain
Allen Toussaint
in smokeless blaze
tips the night air
Kermit blows
Dusty blues
seducing suffering souls
bounding them to each other in bliss
Whispering around town
in a perfect velvet midnight
sweet exhalations of song birds from corner joints
dance the Ruffin groove
fiery trebles wave at people passing by
Down right ***** blues
muzzles twilight
trombones,tubas, and trumpets
lay harmony
under the harmonious thunder
of the Marsalis Masters
and low down deep
in a musty sleepless corner
is the missing Bass-man..
hung over.
Copyright ©2013 Crescent City Blues
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 11:41 PM UTC
Jazz history teacher scattin about
swing
Now, war on drugs ****
wait, kansas city night clubs
Territorial Deviants howl the blues
dragging themselves bar to bar to jam
Teach has jeans and a black long sleeve
shows off his impressive gut
27th and manhattan, playin for pete
everynight bald head shinin
bass thumpin, saxophone whinin
count bessie, chick webb, rotating stage
Bothersome lesbian
Oct 17, 2011
Oct 17, 2011 at 4:01 PM UTC
Je fais souvent ce rêve étrange et pénétrant
D’une femme inconnue, et que j’aime, et qui m’aime,
Et qui n’est, chaque fois, ni tout à fait la même,
Ni tout à fait une autre, et m’aime et me comprend.
Car elle me comprend, et mon coeur transparent,
Pour elle seule, hélas! cesse d’être un problème.
Pour elle seule, et les moiteurs de mon front blême,
Elle seule les sait rafraîchir, en pleurant.
Est-elle brune, blonde ou rousse? Je l’ignore.
Son nom? Je me souviens qu’il est doux et sonore,
Comme ceux des aimés que la vie exila.
Son regard est pareil au regard des statues,
Et, pour sa voix, lointaine, et calme, et grave, elle a,
L’inflexion des voix chères qui se sont tues.
In English:
I often have this dream both strange and shrewd,
Of an unknown girl, who I love, and who loves me
And who each time is neither quite the same,
Nor quite someone else, and who loves and understands me
Because she understands me, and my open heart
For her only, sadly, still ceasing to be a problem,
For her only, and the dampness of my pale forehead
Only she knows how to collect herself, by crying
Is she brunette, blonde or red? I am unsure
Her name? I remember that it is sweet and memorable
Like those of lives loved in exile
Her look is just like that of the statues;
And for her voice, distant and calm, solemn, she has
The affliction of voices dear which fall silent
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 5:10 PM UTC
Mon Oneday I'll be top dog
Have the sofa to myself
Tues Chewsday all the bones belong to me
And to no one else
Wed Walksday let's go on patrol
Throw some weight around
Thurs Throwup day, you can clear it up
I'll sit here and frown
Fri Dieday for the bunnies,
If I'm fast enough
Sat Catsday, chase them up a tree
Watch them huff and puff
Sun Funday, all of the above
For the pampered pooch
Who knows he's very loved
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 5:40 PM UTC
When it finds a match,
the fire sends its regards
for the source of its warmth.
Where heat
and breast floats gold,
I see the old sky new.
Why a mold
that charms cats and brothers
as the offender of kings.
What's more,
it knows
the Tarantula D'amour.
We all burn slow,
even if we die young;
so be it.
Well, let's live
today if not and especially
tomorrow doesn't exist.
Apr 1, 2021
Apr 1, 2021 at 11:29 AM UTC
Hey guys ✋✋ this is not a poem
Okay
Ah here's the deal I'm recruiting like 6 poets to be in my new group called the prisms,
Ill be making group chats for those poets
But only if you have a Kik messenger account,
Recruiting starts from now and ends on Tues,
So if you wanna be involved u gotta have a kik ,
And you gotta be an awesome poet,
Thanks so much !!✌✌✌✌
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 11:34 PM UTC
Racing, pacing, screaming, bleeding
leaking through the cracks in the walls
Dams are breaking, I am taking
breaths that yield no air
I am drowning, in the sounding
of my horror and dispair
Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 4:30 PM UTC
to merge, equate, blend to send
a misguided equality in which
there is no equity truly, but a
notion that what I see is my truth,
& what you see, well, you imagine it,
to be truly…too
neither black or white deemed colors, (1),
yet we con~flate them to be so, naming
them all colors, or the color of light,
which changes unceasingly, ergo, again,
all colors
upon a moments thought, conflating is:
***no matter what you perceive, always believe
it is all colors***
of conflated equanimity
<>
off to bed
until the nighttime sheds mev its whispered words and cries
soto voce, write it wright it right it!
11:10pm Tues Aug 5
Aug 5, 2025
Aug 5, 2025 at 11:12 PM UTC
We met last week.
Its hard to understand but I think we hit it off?
You let me play with your hair
It was nice, I sat on the hotel bed above you and you sat on the floor below
We spoke at the mall and you pseudo ditched me
It was okay and I forgot about it
I like you, you make me smile
You're cute and easy to talk to
At 5:04 You said "HI"
your first facebook message completely unprompted
I saw I had a message and of all people I didn't think it would be you
I wasn't even hoping it was you, but I was happy when it was
It meant you thought about me
"Were you at school today? Or am I just blind" you said
You looked for me and noticed I wasn't there
You apologized for blowing me off, it was okay
We discussed school and teachers
At 8:34 you asked if I was coming to school tomorrow
I said yes
We talked about TV, movies, and things we liked
I liked you
You asked if I had a pet
I don't, you do
Out of the blue you asked if I liked coffee
I do, and I thought you were gonna ask me to get some
You asked if I liked a coffee shop down town
I thought you were gonna ask me to go with you
You asked for my number
I gave it to you
We talked about bad classes
You asked if I ever got detention
I had, you had too
We discussed grades
I mentioned I'm failing Algebra
You offered me help
I was gonna say no, but then I thought Why not
You offered me notes, or help in person, or both
You told me to text you when I need help and you would find time
You said something that made no sense
You mentioned that you were sleepy, and I suggested you go to bed
You did
I looked up through the moon through the slots of my window shade
All in all good day
Im hoping you message me again tomorrow
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 2:56 AM UTC
I moved my bed today
to another corner of
the room and as it went
a small business card
was revealed and
written on it was
"Nolan Fillman has an appointment with
Eric Schlanger, L.C.S.W.,
Tues, 11-22-11 at 5:00 P.M."
And I remembered what I did that day.
I talked to Eric about my life
about how I wanted to **** myself
and about how my grades were
slipping and about how alcohol
tasted better when I was drunk and
about how I hated myself.
He told me that he was my friend.
And that I could call him
instead of killing myself
or getting drunk.
And later that night I did.
When my father yelled at
me about my
grades
I called Eric and told him I felt
like drinking and
that I hated my father.
He talked to me.
I can't remember about what.
I think it was about a trip
he took to
Spain the
summer before.
He and his wife had spent two weeks there
and they ate good food
and met good people.
I slept well that night.
And I want to call Eric Schlanger, L.C.S.W. right now.
I want to call him and have him tell me about Spain.
His number is written on the card right under where
it says TELEPHONE.
And I remember where his office is.
On Spring Street, Suite C2.
But I have to give 24 hours notice to avoid a late cancellation fee.
And it's been eleven months.
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 11:51 PM UTC
Worrying about the future, worry about the now.
Always wondering when but never how
Problems that haven't happened yet
All these "what ifs" and "oh I bets"
Past dues last tues for accumulated debts
The life of an adult isn't always glamor
It's just a take on how you use the hammer
To build your future piece by piece
Until you mind is at peace at least
You're able to eat
Don't think of the bad friend think of the good
Not the "can I?" But the "I could"
So take it easy, take a pill because in the future I know "I will"
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 1:19 AM UTC
this way of life is more than tranquil,
from day one to five, we sharpen
our tools with our desires and an anvil
in our spare time, we chase the the high
until our third eyes tells the three of us
it is way too much for us to handle
me myself and i, if it grabs our attention,
we will approach it with a purpose, whether
it be a person, wording or a purchase
none of which was intended to be perfect,
but deserving, why would the sea chase the earth’s surface if it felt that it was not worth it
-t.m
Sep 20, 2019
Sep 20, 2019 at 4:09 PM UTC
the I LOVE YOU's didnt
mean a thing
they were just
something for swollen lips
to mumble into crumpled
sheets to fill the
silence in
the spaces between
our words at
four in the morning
but i dont want to be
the spaces between your
words
i want to be
every **** thing
that gets to touch
your
tongue
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 12:06 AM UTC
i crackle at the
sound of your
voice
but cringe at
\your touch
because i know
that if i let
you own me again
i will be carved
from every inch
of my soul
and break into
hundreds of pieces
just like
every
other
time
you've hurt me
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 11:56 PM UTC
Tuesdays remind me of you
because Tuesdays are arguably
the most insignificant day of the week
And that's how you make me feel
Oct 2, 2015
Oct 2, 2015 at 7:07 PM UTC