"uncalled" poems
Soft melodies of the deep sea echo
Moonlight dances on my pretty scales
And icy bubbles whirl under my chest
Through my slippery hair
And down into my lungs to clear the way for overflowing foam
Laughter splashes behind my lips as my anticipation rises
Waiting for a night of twisted fairy-tales and uncalled for surprises.
Shimmering bodies swarm in spirals
Grinding in unison with the waves crashing at the surface
We're anxious for overflowing foam and hidden treasures
Purple light pierces the dark like shards of crystals
Casting a ghostly shade on bulbous faces
Pressure rises as each wave surges
Whirlpools of hot breath suffocate our gills
But the sidelines are shallow
And stragglers float motionless
Hair like seaweed at the nape of his neck
Unbuttoned linen soaked and dripping
Her hollow eyes glow green
Like the jelly orbs of a fish under florescent lights
She’s pressed against a boy who has hooks for fins
Searching for the parts that are edible
Tender, Scale-less, Slippery
Nothing wrong with being the catch of the day
Right?
Bubbles rise and pop as the last melodies drown
Schools of us are begging for shiny hooks and bad decisions
A handsome boy has been smiling all the while
He’s caught in a fisherman’s net
Craving salty lips and the spell to make him a man
But fisherman don't care for little mermaids
With hearts like sea glass and no hidden treasures to steal
Sweaty fins splash and cheer
The fishbowl shatters
Sea glass spills out onto sand
We squirm and flop onto land
Gasping without air to breathe
As our mouths and ***** thoughts dry in the sun
Leaving behind fresh meat without mouths to feed.
Rainbow confetti was stuck in the grooves of my scales
Wet clothes left on the floor of a steamy bathroom
Gasping and moaning into tile
With the face of a handsome stranger
Because this meat shouldn't go to waste
And I'm drunken with desperation
For overflowing foam, jewels, and shiny hooks
But I'm just another fish in the sea
Tumbling in the waves with my rainbow confetti scales.
Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 6:00 PM UTC
The sly smoke lingering upon the room
The door open, enclosing the broom
Calmly I sat, on my wooden chair
Reading the newspaper, under the sun's glare
Yet the phone soundly rang
A catchy tune it's speakers sang
In my mind, who could it be?
In the end of the line, a stranger greets me.
And such reveals the mists of mystery
He demands me to stay awake
This uncalled feeling of stressful misery
Is far worst than I could take
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 8:51 PM UTC
A breadcrumb I am - the morsel of my old dough,
a piece of chewed bread rotten, missed near a toe,
shredded by the sons of righteousness and “normality”,
entombed I am under the carpet to fulfil “morality”.
Mum added the yeast for me to grow, as well as flour,
Hoping my crust would golden as a vivid live flower,
She sprinkled little salt into me, to know the grimes,
Sugar too, for life brings out the salt to eyes, at times.
Dad poured the water, to soften toughness uncalled,
For man is kind too, not merely clay masked, walled -
And above all, they added affection and compassion,
They wanted me to satisfy mineself, not one’s ration.
Into the oven, 9 minutes, under fire: I show colors,
The warmth turned the heart warm for all others;
I am left to rest, to harden the shell and eternal body,
To be perfect as ma and pa wish: not adverse, shoddy.
But the stale, unpuffed, unfresh bread of this world,
covets but loathes what is good and not yet twirled,
It wishes for me to inhibit mold and evict dignity,
Mais allez, étrange moi, expose me not to malignity.
The least of their gurgling sounds puncture heads,
And the weakest of their advice the spirit dreads;
The making of me is the capacity of mine flexes,
Your ingredients suit not me, mortals and sexes.
Days yearn for you, not this battle of complexes:
You, mine old dough who suddenly “complex” is,
My parents baked me on low heat nice and gentle,
And they sear me with words not for me, mental!
Know you: Pita, Kmajj, Brioche, Shrak, or Baguette,
Bread is bread, could be different, but it is no threat.
Jan 18, 2023
Jan 18, 2023 at 9:27 AM UTC
EAST BOSTON, 1996
ON THE BUS
Franz Wright
It's one thing when you're twenty-one,
and I was way past twenty-one.
With unshaven face half concealed in the collar
of some deceased porcine philanthropist's
black cashmere rag of a coat,
I knew that I looked like a suicide
returning an overdue book to the library.
Almost everyone else did as well,
but I found no particular solace in this;
at best, the fact awakened some diverting speculations
on the comparative benefits
of waiting in front of a ditch to be shot
alone or in company
of others, and then whether one would prefer
these last hypothetical others
to be friends, family, enemies, total
or relative strangers. Would you hold hands?
Or would you rather like a good **** sapiens
monster employ them
to cover your genitals?
What percentage would lose bowel control?
And given time restrictions -
and assuming some still had the ability to move -
would ostracism result? Anyway,
I knew the rules on this bus.
No eye contact: the eyes of the terrified
terrify. Look
like you know where you're going,
possess ample change to get there,
and don't move your lips when you talk
to yourself: the destroyed
and sick, the poor, the hungry
and the disturbed estrange.
The badly dressed estrange, even,
and that is uncalled for. The degree
of one's power to estrange will increase
in direct proportion to the depth
of need for others. Do not cry.
This can only bring about, on the one hand,
an instant condition of banishment
from the sole available companionship, or
on the other, a near
fatal beating (one more disappointment).
Just follow the simple instruction
if you ever come here.
It's easy to remember - any idiot can do it.
Don't cry,
the world has abandoned us.
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 7:59 AM UTC
Should I hang with my friend who I haven't seen in a year or go meet this tinder girl?
Someone New - Hozier
I just can't put my finger on it.
something about her is goregous.
Baby Got Back - Jonathon Coulton
You're right. It's totally her ***
Ugly Faces - Watsky
Shh, spotify, be nice. It's not her fault.
Do Better - Say Anything
Okay okay, you're right. I'll bring her home.
All Time Low - Jon Bellion
Oh c'mon, She's not that bad...
Proove Me Wrong - Dub FX
Well like... her personality is pretty cute.
Some Girls Are Crazy - Echo Movement
I can't beleive I just had *** in my backseat.
Glad You Came - The Wanted
Yikes. All the girls dropped from this party. it's just gonna be me and my three dude friends.
*To Many ***** On The Dancefloor - Flight Of The Concords*
I completely agree. Should i go or just come up with a ****** excuse to leave?
*You Don't Have To Be A ********** - Flight Of The Concords*
You're right i'll leave. What should i tell them?
Working - I Fight Dragons
No i already told them i got the day off. That wouldn't work.
My Buddy's Back - Big D and The Kids Table
Oh perfect!
Sleepyhead - Passion Pit
Yeah I should go to bed.
Let me finish this poem first.
Go To Bed - Ookla The Mok
I'm stuck on this line.
What's a good word to describe Port Veritas? Like... one word?
Home - Phillip Phillips.
That's adorable... you're so right.
See You Again - Wiz Kahlifa
**** you spotify that was super uncalled for. Now i'm bummed out.
Get Over It - Ok Go
Dude. That's like super insensitive
Ungrateful - Streetlight Manifesto
No i'm not ungrateful. I love you, you just don't need to make me cry when i'm down in the dumps like that.
Lean Into The Fall - Mona
I guess you're right. Fine. Thank you.
All The Stars In Texas - Ludo
That's the nicest thing that anyones ever said to me. I like when you do that.
Like or Like Like - Miniature Tigers
Uhh, i guess like like. You're pretty much my favorite app.
R U Mine? - Arctic Monleys.
I think maybe you're moving a little fast spotify... i don't think I'm ready for that kind of commitment.
I Wanna Be Yours - Arctic Monkeys
This is getting weird. I'm going to bed.
I Will Follow You Into The Dark - Death Cab For Cutie
Okay no, seriously i'm turning you off.
Don't Unplug Me - All Caps.
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 12:55 AM UTC
Analytical Critique of Unconscious Thought
acting out without conscious thought
like those silly shorts that you just bought
the gaudy plaid in a stripped world
capacity bottom-up weighting rule
convergence conclusion you silly fool
uncalled for diatribes that you unfurled
magical spiral of unspoken words
formed by hand into painted sherds
genius clown keeps lips tightly curled
Gomer LePoet....
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 1:41 PM UTC
They all seem discursive and scattered,
Why would these curses ever matter?
Who will command stillness to wickedness so desolate and dead?
Partly I lay feeble in the head.
I am leisurely in limbo and moderately consoled.
I'm uncalled for and ribald ,but accounted.
Everything fit in place!
Ethical with a little slowness ,and a touch of corruption.
What was happiness is now a presumption,
Evolving and clawing threw this crushed creation.
Living is somber with a fatal fixation,
With all these things taken into consideration...
I am completely unchallenged with this sad situation.
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 6:40 AM UTC
losing my mind like before
my heart's going blind to mourn
no room for more!
closing its door,
filled with fear and horror
sounds in my head ashore?
not my voice but yours?
as every part of me sores
making its way to my core
ruining my spores
my insanity roars!
and the madness pours!
and the pain explores!
stop! i can't take it anymore!
i promised i'll be fine, i swore
to you over and over some more
but what can i do it's uncalled for?
my sickness takes the score
i'm destroyed and unhappy and more!
what is there to adore?
-djs
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 10:19 PM UTC
The world is full of hatred and spite,
It may come as a surprise
Oh innocent youth,
But allow me to reprise,
The world is full of hatred and spite.
Oh innocent youth,
Change it, we must,
In the way we see fit.
Take charge of the reigns,
And demolish the parts
causing the most pain.
Ignorance and Arrogance
Are the Gods of the day,
Lack of wanting or caring
For the power of knowledge,
Content to be slaves,
Lost in their ways.
Oh tainted youth,
How far will this path take us?
Destroying our home, our friendships, our lives,
Our bodies, our minds, our dreams,
Crushed and broken,
Until nothing is left,
Nothing except subservient beings.
Oh enraged youth,
How do we change the events
set into motion,
Call me a radical but I have such a notion.
Seek knowledge, peace,
Love, and understanding.
In these virtues you will find
The mind’s true elation,
Then, and only then,
Will you break free
From the grip of preoccupation.
Oh enlightened youth,
When and how will our voices be heard?
Whenever it is, we break ranks from the herd.
It will require us all,
Brothers, sisters, blacks, and whites,
No group left uncalled,
For fear that upon deaf ears
our efforts should fall,
Oh empowered youth,
With these tools we must fashion,
Our revolution of choice,
With chests out and heads high,
We will make sure they hear,
Our unified voice.
For without the power of us,
There will be no change,
But the power of us
Is a force to reckon,
Yet we must keep our path straight,
And let it not derange.
Oh complacent youth,
I fear that change should not come,
Soon enough, or yet at all,
Unless we stand tall, and call,
For those in their hall,
To Bring Down their Wall.
When we treat all equal,
With love and respect,
We will have won.
But what do you expect?
Oh innocent youth,
This will not happen, it cannot happen,
The world is filled with Hatred and Spite,
And I fear we will gaze eternally,
At our cause, fading,
Into that great twilight.
Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 9:49 PM UTC
Life passes through when im hear with out you,
I'm on a totaly different side beyond the out,
hearin all the ghetto my new ***** gotta dead bro,
I've bin with all these red rags mind graffiti sketched tags,
So I miss my girl my sister,
My story tellin listener
my main true,
my blessed boo,
seen my life she has the real clue,
when I got hit right there stuck wit me,
step dad did uncalled for beatin, cant help me gettin eatin
when we got caught callit go book free,
played a role got your back,
look forward. erased the wack.
no mom,
I gotta stoney,
didn't lisson always roming,
growin with my one friend never was a loney
one two I got you,
three four I'm out the door
five six, new home cant fix,
seven eight, I lost my great, (hailey)
nine ten, I'll be home when?.
when I got In foster so close I could of lost her
your my completion I'm your creation,..
ying to the yang
the big,
the loud,
The shoot the bang.
we never for the reppin but we ain't afraid to steppin,
got our own gang ,
me and hailey togetha daily,
our name no shame same heart from thee start
aimin for big,
bullseye I'm the dart
walk our own way,
head up with no say,
got my noes in the sky cause you know I be high,.
finger In the air for the ******* that stare,
why the **** you stalkin?,
cause you scared to be talkin,...
make out my way before i get cray
best get to walkin before I get sockin.
whatever I'm a youngin,
I'm blessed that I hung in,
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 3:20 PM UTC
MEMO
FROM: Mr Phil Indifrence, Strategy Chess Insurgency Corps.
Space Headquarters, Castleview Avenue, Dunstable XY10
TO: Ms Petal Dontrun, Crimson Chess Federation.
De la Wigan Headquarters, Wigan, United Kingdom, SM00
Dear Ms Dontrun,
Please accept my greetings. I write to clarify my stance on our
outstanding matters and hopefully to deter further speculation,
gossips, rumours, distortions, misinformation and sensationalism by the media.
As you are aware I contacted you on the day as arranged only to
be confronted with a response that was astoundingly unethical, un-
professional, rude, inconsiderate and totally uncalled-for. It was
so below expected standard that it raised doubt about your suit-
ability to be seen as a matured adult much less an intelligent being.
Still in the reverberations of this seismic occurrence I called again in
the hope it was a momentary loss of composure and yet again I was
subjected to a deluxe version of the first onslaught. To say I was
flabbergasted is putting things mildly, most especially as it was
totally unwarranted and underserved. It was obvious you lacked
any sense of decorum and had become an affront to common human decency and an embarrassment to your status.
In all fairness you did call some weeks later, but it had become
apparent that the ethos, protocol and cordiality that my Organi-
sation works within may not be relevant to your Organisation,
hence my unavailability to your contact.
I write to primarily reiterate that my position on this matter and
the present status quo is not based on some immature Ego play,
stubbornness, power-play or pride, rather it's in all truthfulness it's a belief in upholding standards in ethical considerations. I do not believe that bad manners, ill-considered behaviour, ill-judgement and a lack of sensitivity and good grace are matured and progressive trends to interact cooperatively within.
In conclusion, this is my stance on this matter and I hope it helps
your understanding. I believe a formal Apology from you and your
Organisation is appropriate in this regard and will instigate a
return to cordiality between our Organisation.
If you however feel this is unnecessary I will respect your decision
and the situation will remain unresolved.
I thank you for your attention.
Regards,
Phil Indifrence. C.E.O.
Feb 23, 2019
Feb 23, 2019 at 5:18 PM UTC
Life passes through when im hear with out you,
I'm on a totaly different side beyond the out,
hearin all the ghetto my new ***** gotta dead bro,
I've bin with all these red rags mind graffiti sketched tags,
So I miss my girl my sister,
My story tellin listener
my main true,
my blessed boo,
seen my life she has the real clue,
when I got hit right there stuck wit me,
step dad did uncalled for beatin, cant help me gettin eatin
when we got caught callit go book free,
played a role got your back,
look forward. erased the wack.
no mom,
I gotta stoney,
didn't lisson always roming,
growin with my one friend never was a loney
one two I got you,
three four I'm out the door
five six, new home cant fix,
seven eight, I lost my great, (hailey)
nine ten, I'll be home when?.
when I got In foster so close I could of lost her
your my completion I'm your creation,..
ying to the yang
the big,
the loud,
The shoot the bang.
we never for the reppin but we ain't afraid to steppin,
got our own gang ,
me and hailey togetha daily,
our name no shame same heart from thee start
aimin for big,
bullseye I'm the dart
walk our own way,
head up with no say,
got my noes in the sky cause you know I be high,.
finger In the air for the ******* that stare,
why the **** you stalkin?,
cause you scared to be talkin,...
make out my way before i get cray
best get to walkin before I get sockin.
whatever I'm a youngin,
I'm blessed that I hung in,
Written By Jesse Mckush Dedicated For Hailey *Haglund
May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 3:42 PM UTC
come onyou canyou'll sober up in timejust spend the night this shouldn't be happening there are plenty of things you could be doing rather than... this. it will get out of hand drama; you hate drama.you could be with your friends that care.you could be doing something that helps, not hurts.something that especially doesn't hurt yourself..Why truly Why are you doing thisthey're just over-reacting.it wasn't that big of a dealthey'll get over ityou meant what you saidyou have an opinion and you stand by itthey are wrongand youare right that was uncalled for you could have given the benefit of the doubt you've known each other a long time you could have asked calmer than that it was coming thoughWhy did you do that!?you hurt their feelingsyou could have gotten over itjust waited it outyou could have done itnow you really did it
Feb 23, 2010
Feb 23, 2010 at 11:59 AM UTC
this is the city
that my daddy built
inside of me
between my guts
where my heart should be.
what isn’t rusted
or burnt out
or tired
is barbed-wire and wary.
this is the city
that my daddy built
with his anger.
it’s set up high
on a hill of scissors and blood oranges
and blood oranges with scissors
inside of them,
red juice stains
in sticky pools and dirt.
this is the city that my daddy built
in our house.
in our home.
where the people are shadows,
speaking in whispers
tiptoeing behind closed doors
so as not to rouse the beast.
this is the city
that my daddy built
here we pay tithes in blood oranges
to humor his desires
warding off uncalled for bloodshed
like the time that I
finally stood up for myself
and he broke the kitchen table
with his fists.
it was an antique
that traveled with my great-grandmother
from Sweden,
now just another broken thing
in the landslide
of scissors
and blood oranges
and dirt.
this is the city
that my daddy built,
scarring my skeleton,
following me everywhere
like a spilled bottle of India ink
blacking out the finely drawn sun,
like past transgressions
follow the guilty,
like the golden touch of Midas,
turning everything into
a mountain of scissors and
blood oranges and dirt.
this is the city that
my daddy built,
making my concept of home
a depiction of ruins;
the vestiges of what
could have been
if we hadn’t lived
too close to his minefield,
before causing my mother
to take my sisters and leave
like a snowbird at the arrival of spring,
at last realizing that her spine
consisted of wings.
this is the city
that my daddy built.
this is the city that
scarred and weary,
shadows of skeletons of birds, we
will move on, leaving behind
brick by ***** brick
until it’s nothing but a memory
of a pile
of blood oranges
and scissors
and dirt.
Jul 26, 2010
Jul 26, 2010 at 10:58 AM UTC
How dare you talk ****
When you don’t even know
You have the nerve
To call me a ***
That I can let slide
I don’t care how you feel
Then you bring up my dad
Are you for real?
You crossed the line
Completely uncalled for
Are you done yet?
Or is there more?
Say more ****
You don’t really mean
You’ll say you’re sorry
And come clean
Don’t waste your breathe
I don’t want to hear you talk
Peace the **** out
I hope you trip on a rock
No Date
Ashli Jane
Dec 23, 2009
Dec 23, 2009 at 8:15 AM UTC
I PLAY SUDOKU, CARDS AND CHESS,
BUT SUDDENLY WHAT'S MORE BECOMES LESS,
THEN, THERE'S BRIDGE, MONOPOLY AND LUDO,
WHAT'S MAYBE NEXT, I HAVEN'T GOT A CLUEDO;
MIND GAMES ARE THE WORST - JUST NUEROTIC
BUT THEY'RE NASTY, UNCALLED FOR AND DESPOTIC,
I FIELD THEM ALL LIKE ***** IN THE AIR,
I MUST CATCH, TO DROP THEM I WOULDN'T DARE,
THEN THERE WAS RUNNING, STAY IN THE RACE,
I'LL JUST HAVE TO SEE IF I CAN STAND THE PACE,
THERE'S NEVER A CROSSWORD THAT PASSES ME BY,
WHEN YOUR HAVING FUN, HOW THE TIME DOES FLY,
LIFE IS A CHARADE, GUESS WHAT COMES NEXT,
I'M NOT SURE, MAYBE HEAVEN - I'LL SEND YOU A TEXT!
Feb 27, 2016
Feb 27, 2016 at 10:40 PM UTC
**It saddens me when
people use poetry
to talk badly about someone else**
Poetry is suppose to be fun
not a competive sport.
Why can't we
just all support one another
and be suggestive.
We all feel the same things.
We all be through alot;
that's what usually
makes a great poet.
So stop hating on people,
it is uncalled for.
This isn't middle school.
If you have a problem
with someone then
**talk to them about
or block them...**
Yes, hello poetry has a
block button
feel free to use anytime
you have a problem someone
and get on with life.
Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 8:03 PM UTC
barren earth
does it dream? in technicolor
of vibrant flower..........
the clouds that never pause to pour
the wind that ever moves on
forever the dust
forever the lust
the unfulfilled desires
the uncalled for fate
barren earth
in its sleep, in its countless
colourless waking hours
does it weave with
scores of scents
a deathcloth to cover
its forever life..........
Mar 25, 2012
Mar 25, 2012 at 6:07 AM UTC
The totality of a stare, their for changing life's bitter holds
My theory that we all are seekers is an ex-stressor of unwitting changes
voiceless changing clanging colds
Now a life this life has execrated all of your dreams
You and I cure the ice to satisfy the demons the night but it grows warmer I warn thee
Devious power and burning nights.. who is of the dead?
Devious powers all is quite right.. I am inside your head
Uncalled for searing this justice holy tower you're turret nare an arrow sent
And when the future holds against our bonds untold a world with forms reached out only to allow an ever changing destiny..
Then I shall cry out a theory for them a theory untold
Devious fires powers of the night Don't question the order do as your told
Fleece of the stripeless tiger nears telling all of us of the powers of doom
and your life is speaking slashing shshsh turn to dust soon you'll be through
If again you make this plea don't try to be the same as the one who turned to me
For within you are gone and in your mind we are all keepers but this is not wrong
I am turned putrid and this procures the storm
unworthy yet with this answer land will fall soon and shed this life for demons and right hurt eyes skin lips and all
Devious powers burning in the nights of the undead
You called out the scarring the twist of the unsent
Then I shall cry out a theory for them a theory untold
Devious fires powers of the night Don't question the order do as your told
Played by the fame then went a force of Satans wings ornate of diamonds and led
When the theory of theories is finally told the solving and the puzzle is an ultimate theory untold
Drafting and waning your demeanor a field of wrought with a killing and blight
Into a dark horizon one hand awakens as certainty puts up a fight
Then I shall cry out doubting you'd ever listen to me
Then I'd cry for us as the devout for the theories untold is ever our destiny
Then I shall cry out for a theory for them a theory untold
Devious fires powers of the night Don't question the order do as your told
Jul 14, 2020
Jul 14, 2020 at 12:03 AM UTC
Who is this?
A writer speaking to another -
to whom it may concern.
What sadness do you attend to?
That peculiar grief encircling you.
You hear whispers that blight your grounds,
Clinging unto you with very much different sounds,
So insane - so sane - so insane,
One after the other, the stretching claws of
this morbid bane,
Uncalled for, but in laden laid,
Hush little one - there is for no reason
to be afraid.
"But why is the fear so real?"
You may ask and knock the door,
"Why are things so perplexed?"
You may wonder
while lying on the cold and ***** floor,
But then a question better -
'Why - are we even here?'
Why are our feet standing on this ground?
Whilst all stories are getting sadder,
What materialism blinds us from -
is what our ears had grown deaf and
had forgotten of one much important sound,
Hush little one - close and open your eyes again,
Are not the skies so vastly laid and beauteous?
Now bring your attention from where all things had began,
Are not the trees that bear fruits, growing and in surplus?
Hush little one - for we are all small and insignificant,
Those who are arrogant will fall,
And yes - we are mankind, the one chosen,
bestowed proprietary as a vicegerent ,
But the mountains laid are ever more
sturdy and tall,
Hush little one - all of us were born to die!
And do not mistake my hush as to undermine,
Hush! Silence the world and close your eyes!
And let your heart and mind open
to find the shine!
The light that bursts and could cure the heart,
A light like no other -
that no darkness could tear apart.
Hush - and clear your mind,
Hush - for you have forgotten of The Lord Benign.
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 11:22 AM UTC
Unplaced, uncalled for sadness is the worst;
Like a **** it sprouts up
In some crack within my ribcage.
I don't understand the sadness.
It goes ignored and disregarded
Because I can't place why it began to grow,
And it'll just continue to grow
Until it takes over my body,
Growing by the streams down my cheeks.
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 1:06 AM UTC
I saw this War Veteran on his porch yelling at this Hipster Kid who was tethered to his fence across the generational gapped front lawn, yelling back at him. And I mean, they got into it.
The kid wasn't doing anything really, just taking alternate swigs of foamy PBR and flat Red Bull and chucking the cans into the vet's unkempt garden, retorting Dylan lyrics and sentiments of Kerouac like the post-modern beatnik he was.
I couldn't make out what the Old Vet was saying. His voice was missing from probably smoking too many Benson & Hedges Black down in the trenches. I know he must have been saying something uncalled for, though, to get this Kid so riled up like that.
I'm not sure what they were arguing about since I awoke right in the middle of this altercation, hanging upside down on a bench in the park across the street. I suppose I'll just wait until the Vet goes back inside so I can go over and release the Kid and ask him what that was all about.
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 9:31 AM UTC
There used to be spaces
Between falling asleep and waking up
Spaces without emotional gravity
Where it gets hard to breathe, and I am turned inside out
There used to be spaces
Between pale fingers and heavy shoulders
Spaces cold with longing
For a breathing, comforting warmth
Where these spaces used to be
There's now you
Within every weary crevice, your presence flows
Every touch a lingering sediment, filling pieces that were once broken
Fossilizing fragile parts that were once left to die
Where these spaces used to be
There's now you
Patiently holding me through the varying magnitudes of my earthquakes
Silently bearing my uncalled eruptions
So accepting, of my faults and folds
There used to be spaces
Where what was precious to me were only the gemstones I collected
And where these spaces used to be,
There's now you.
Mar 31, 2020
Mar 31, 2020 at 12:53 AM UTC
Last night I came onto the hellopoetry site to try to drown out my mom's death rattle in some good poetry. Quite a few people, good decent people who have gathered around me and supported me during this agonizing time and one of those sweet Poets was being verbally and mentally attacked by
LOGHAIN CARV'O
His criticisms were malicious and very hurtful and his taunting her was more than I could bare for a friend. She related the conversation to me and she was really upset. She told me what he said verbatim' It was way uncalled for. And she is not the only one he is doing this to. He's being offensive to the extreme.Calling her a peasant and telling her she couldn't write. And I'll probably catch all kinds of hell for doing it but I paid a "VISIT" to his site and left this comment and I Quote
"Stop picking on ---------You call this a poem. You have some nerve telling her she can't write and you write crap like this. Well 1 out of 82 reads isn't so hot is it. Come on and kick me a few times. I should be easy pickings for you. I dare you ******
Well he responded with and I quote
"It is obvious you do not have artistic vision like I, that or you did not read my poems and just came here in a petty attempt to demoralize I in retaliation to the criticisms I have revealed to most peoples "poetry" I wish to waste no more breath on my lessers. Just remember I when you see my talent spread out across the world. Remember how you showed the Greatest, most renowned and revered artist no support" End Quote.
Loghain carv'o also stated that "The community on this site is rather poor"
He also stated
"This site isn't exactly known for it's Grand Community"
So now I know he doesn't even mind kicking some one who is already down. and i for one would like to know since he doesn't like this site or the Real Poets why stay? If he doesn't like the"GRAND COMMUNITY" why the hell he's still here. If he doesn't like us "lessers' why be among us.
And I didn't even tell you the most malicious comments.
When some one attacks a friend I will respond. That's what friends do.
And Loghain carv'o is proving to be no ones friend. And his
GOD COMPLEX is offensive!
I SERVE ONE GOD ONLY AND IT IS NOT Loghain carv'o!!!
I only have one thing to say to Loghain carv'o and that is and I quote again
My visit to hellopoetry last night to get away for a moment from listening to my mothers death rattle, to read a few poems and find a little Peace for a few moments was ruined by you and your offensive attitude and comments and since i'm already in a living hell right nowI can find you some room here so come enjoy hell with me. Oh but I almost forgot you don't want to consort with us "lessers"
THE MIGHTY SURE DO HAVE A LONG WAY TO FALL LOGHAIN
YOURS SINCERELY
Paula
This is for you friend love Paula
You can dish it out but you sure can't take it!
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 9:25 AM UTC