Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"wabash" poems
a polar vortex swirls eastward on Siberian Tiger paws bounding over Appalachian Highlands gobbling geography gelling Great Lakes spawning Erie blizzards sculpting Wabash ice floes clogging commerce all along the Ohio River Valley this voracious juggernaut’s wide maw bears icicle teeth laughing as it swallows Pittsburgh, Little Philly, and a Big Apple, before gorging itself on generous portions ladled into simmering crocks of steaming Boston Baked Beans growling blue arctic air blasts roar bursts pipes savages the heat of blasting furnaces, bubbling boilers, hot belly stoves frantically drinking oil, flaming gas burning wood and burping soot the blistering jet stream claws screech a slashing stratospheric hum as Frigidaire blasts swallows breath brittles limbs chafes cheeks gnaws earlobes crystallizes tears nibbles nostrils cubes snot numbs toes bites digits diving sub zero gradient subdues batteries to deaden states delays buses derails trains cuts power constricts veins preys on vagabonds and animals get the homeless off the street! bring the animals in check on your elderly neighbors don’t get caught outside and shut the **** door! do you own stock in the Public Service? beware the polar vortex and next months heating bill Sonny Boy Williamson & Otis Spann Nine Below Zero Oakland 1/6/14 jbm
0
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 2:43 PM UTC
Polar Vortex
Splish splash splish splash Into the water My paddles crash Neither a care nor a bother Gliding along I listen to the river's song My mind it soothes My soul it moves Silver flashes As a drum flits by And otter play So pleasing to my eye Water sloshes against my boat While I watch an eagle fly Man I love to float Muddy waters flow on by Man I love to float
0
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 2:48 PM UTC
On The Wabash
you always hated when i wore black you said it washed me out, but i think that it really bothered you because it was a reminder of the little bits of darkness in me that you couldn't brighten, no matter how many pastel fit n flare frocks you bought and watched me drape over my bones now i always have black on somewhere - just to say **** you from S Wabash St, Chicago i let this one guy i liked in october use your favorite pink dress to wipe up his *** after a mediocre hand job and if we are going to be truthful ill admit that i felt nothing - i might have even smiled, picturing your face if you had seen what happened to the candy colored cotton you were right, trying to keep black off my body - you were right because I am cold& cruel& fickle& judgmental& you werent right but a fool to think that i could be a wife who makes costco runs twice a month and spends week days decorating mason jars with burlap and lace at a craft room desk waiting for you to come home and not **** me on the counter in whatever easter hued garment i had on you always hated when i wore black and if we're still being honest i hate it too but i need to learn to like how much it suits me - as its the only reason why my shoulders cant fit into yours anymore
0
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 8:07 PM UTC
candy colored cotton
I fell in love in love with a person i known all my life, and a person i met at the beginning of the school year, i told to one i've known forever i loved him when i had a panic attack, and i just started dating the one i just met, the person i've known is in PPH a suicide hospital, the other is on the way to his class in Wabash, the person in PPH is there because of me i think because i told him, the other is waiting to get on the bus to sit with me on the way home, the person gone, has a girlfriend and he said"if things don't work out than i'm asking you out because i love you" and i told him that i had a boyfriend yesterday, Now, he has 100 new scars and i think its my fault, i didn't want to be sad watching him and his girl, At my table being happy while i was sad, i love two people one here, one gone but i still love them both but i love the one whose gone more......
0
Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 1:00 PM UTC
i love Two people
to avoid the pitfall of prospective homelessness which near future prospect induces existential angst i confess. Today (end of rope rhyme rote approximately deux orbitz round the sun), i wanted ta die and bid god riddance grandly going gamesomely gra grave, de deum, and cymbal crash to Bing mulct emotionally, physically and spiritually - all the grinding hardships would be gone in a flash how tempting to seek ot a solution sans hemlock or other deadly potion, whereby toothless mouth need not gnash boot simply swallow and drink from the goblet of mortal freedoms renting psych *** under with purposelessness mine hash tag, which bout with suicide while n the edge of thirteen - Anorexia nervosa defeated - then as now experience 10,000 banshee maniacs whip lash lacerating, flagellating, and repeatedly rousing thoughts shin to circle back to why death be not proud when life on par with a mash up of ennui, futile gobbledygook housing incubus analogous luft waffe bombardiers quash the joie de vivre per je ne sais quois spritely spring in step happy jollity, and levity attempt to make light of psychological me's mental illness rash whence thru the (then) lvii roam min years as chief garbage taster of trash hurled my way gnome matter the gremlins dwelt within the Wabash distance to inflict din er of dissonance targeted this mortal for'er abash as soon as he got expelled from the womb, his reddened ears did bash from sonic screaming boom causing astir the nurses into the maternity ward of me late mum sped like dash her, and fast as a comet Prancer doth emulate a con ***** dancer, cuz ova this rude half re: that came a boot from genetic chromosomal dna wash.
0
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 3:56 AM UTC
Thee grim reaper as pedagogical savior. -
to avoid the pitfall of prospective homelessness which near future prospect induces existential angst i confess. Today (end of rope rhyme rote approximately deux orbitz round the sun), i wanted ta die and bid god riddance grandly going gamesomely gra grave, de deum, and cymbal crash to Bing mulct emotionally, physically and spiritually - all the grinding hardships would be gone in a flash how tempting to seek ot a solution sans hemlock or other deadly potion, whereby toothless mouth need not gnash boot simply swallow and drink from the goblet of mortal freedoms renting psych *** under with purposelessness mine hash tag, which bout with suicide while n the edge of thirteen - Anorexia nervosa defeated - then as now experience 10,000 banshee maniacs whip lash lacerating, flagellating, and repeatedly rousing thoughts shin to circle back to why death be not proud when life on par with a mash up of ennui, futile gobbledygook housing incubus analogous luft waffe bombardiers quash the joie de vivre per je ne sais quois spritely spring in step happy jollity, and levity attempt to make light of psychological me's mental illness rash whence thru the (then) lvii roam min years as chief garbage taster of trash hurled my way gnome matter the gremlins dwelt within the Wabash distance to inflict din er of dissonance targeted this mortal for'er abash as soon as he got expelled from the womb, his reddened ears did bash from sonic screaming boom causing astir the nurses into the maternity ward of me late mum sped like dash her, and fast as a comet Prancer doth emulate a con ***** dancer, cuz ova this rude half re: that came a boot from genetic chromosomal dna wash.
Continue reading...
46
Another day playing chicken in my head on the tracks laid out strategically rich through fog .. woods and city. I follow nothing but the tracks today, a few times hitching pretty, sitting in an open car to smoke and watch the land and water flash by, now sunny, then rainy .. I stay south in the summer climes. A fight with a Wabash Cannonball wore me out enough to make me smile, hands on hips, I ran a mile to get hit but the train lost again. Having fun in my head, wanting to be dead tired, and I am.
0
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 9:23 PM UTC
Runaway Trains by: Samantha M. Whitman