"wholey" poems
One thing I love to do
Is write letters to Grandpapa
Because
You never know where it’s going to take you:
Octogenarians are a real wildcard
And that makes life interesting.
For example, I was writing a letter
To Grandpapa and he likes to imagine things
Because he can’t get around much
So I give the cat meat to feed on.
I embellish a little my romantic situation
And I tell him about M; little M
How she reminds me of my little mama
And that boys tend to look
For someone who is like a mother figure
And we grow into this role
We become more dependent on the girlfriend
Til she becomes like a second mother
But it never starts out that way.
So I was telling him about little M;
And when I receive a letter back
I notice a rather odd sentence
That I cannot help but laugh at:
“Dan, you say M; is smaller than you
All the easier to back her into a corner”
And then it follows on with some
Incongruent sentence about ‘me driving a car’
Now I’m not sure if we got lost in
Translation
I don’t know whether Grandpapa is thinking
I’m going to run M; over (she’s not that small)
Or whether he’s suggesting I invest in a booster seat?
Or whether in fact, he has made an unwholesome
But wholey funny link
Between me staying up all night
And my young ****** prowess
(Which is the same thing I suppose)
But I’m not quite sure why I’d be backing her
Into a corner
That sounds like outright pressure
But I have to laugh
Ah Grandpapa
Maybe one day I’ll show M;
Or maybe not
She may develop an irrational fear
For tight spaces
Which is something
I will never have a problem with...
Nov 19, 2011
Nov 19, 2011 at 9:08 PM UTC
The village pump is where she was stationed
Her purpose in life, to glean information
Every morsel of 'news' she'd greedily savour
Though reluctant to empty her head, to fill up her neighbour's
That mucky young hussy's expecting you'll find
I'm certain I know who did it this time
He bought a bike, the crafty young fella
And no good came on it Doris I tell ya
He put one in Fram in the family way
And thas a good fifteen mile away
And if you ask me, he's too fond of his sister
If there's a young'un who's willing round here he'd not miss her
So lock up your daughter do she'll be the next
He'll be snouting round here before long I expect
And look at poor Bob, they say he's frustrated
They reckon his hip bone is half discolated
Same as old **** see him hick with his stick
All wore up and not sixty as yit
You don't look wholey clever yourself
Doris you really should keep an eye on your health
And Grandma Green has took to her bed
I'll drop by there today, 'cos same as I say
You're a long time dead
Well I should be going, I've said too much already
Cheerio now, and do you goo steady
Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 3:43 PM UTC
I come on me bike tonight,
Blast bor,
That wind were agin me the whole blinkin way
I wholey hoop that change afore I goo hoom agin.
Nov 11, 2016
Nov 11, 2016 at 1:53 AM UTC
cut it up shredded the letters
broke 'em apart
L
L slashed it at its
mid-no-point of no return
just lying lines now
__
lying about dying nice and slowly
O
pierced the O
slices lying on their dead side
squeezed the juice out of me
returned the ***** my sweet favors
( )
V
got my vengeance
cut that loveless *****
smack in her pleasure punt point
no more pleasure for her
her wholey holes cheating me no more
\ /
E
extra special slicing n dicing
bled all over the street
after bleeding me all over me
twisted them into~ ~ twisted ****
just like it twisted me.
you want to say it plain?
pleasure.
the love ***** is dead
__
~
| --
~ '
LOVE
cut that ***** love
up good
cut it out
of my body
now it's dead
just like it
done to me
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 5:57 PM UTC
A flick of a wrist, floating harmony
Fingers dance, twist and sway
Pluck and strum
The chords shape so heartily and wholey
The air reverberates and shivers the spine
But surrounds you, a warm embrace of song
You feel so fine
As the grandeur grows and grows,
Rythm picks up tempo swaps and shifts fast slow fast faster
The minor mirrors your mind, that soft depressing tone
Another strum springs alive,
Your fingers pick up pace
Pluck, pluck, pluck pluck PLUCK
SNAP!!... twang, ping.
oh
You were playing with my heart-string
The music dies,
And so do i.
Dec 17, 2010
Dec 17, 2010 at 9:00 AM UTC
i'm swingin in slowly,
entirely and wholey
like my mother used to tell me
i'm just trying to figure out where i belong
i'm homesick for a home
i've never known
and a home is not a home
when you're on your own
i'm crawling in quietly,
softly and slightly
like my mother used to tell me
"you won't get far by just stringing yourself along"
Nov 4, 2016
Nov 4, 2016 at 9:00 PM UTC
what has it all come to?
sleepless nights
filled with consuming anything
that will alter our bodies
and mind.
searching for a non-existing
company.
old lovers
and promises
run around
like marathons,
and each Saturday night,
I fall apart.
My limbs
cause nothing but trouble.
And leaving my body
wholey,
would be heavenly.
the leaves are changing,
and the long nights are getting colder.
there hasn't been a day in the past month in which I haven't cried,
and I'm terrified of what comes next.
Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 9:22 AM UTC
I miss you fondly
Thoughts of you are always brilliant,
And yellow, gold, and orange;
Soft and radiant.
I miss you wholey
And this need for you
Is not numb or cold,
It’s not hungry,
Nor thirsty or breathless,
But so fulfilling.
I miss you blessedly,
Transcendently:
As if God’s own arms
Fit around my body where yours used to
And honor me
With the most remarkable warmth.
I miss you honestly
I am truest,
And most valiant,
In the moments that I think of you.
I miss you shamelessly
Void of guilt;
Full of faith
In all you are.
But mostly,
And all too importantly,
I miss you lovingly:
The space by my side
Where you used to stand
Emptily awaits you.
The room in my heart for you
Will always be yours.
How lovingly I miss you
Oh dear friend:
How loved and missed you are
Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 9:36 PM UTC
Will it **** you
when you get the invite to my wedding
not to be a maid of honor
not to be a bridesmaid
but to sit in the rows in any color dress you choose?
And will it **** you
when my christmas card comes
and I hold a baby you've never met
who has a godmother that you've never met?
And will it **** you
when the internet shows you
that my family has moved,
and I've started a new career,
but you aren't even really sure
what line of work I was in before?
Will it **** you as these years pass
and this title becomes wholey exact?
Or is it okay because
I won't know you either?
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 5:32 PM UTC
RECORD: SMELLS LIKE CONTENT
FROGMAN: THE BOOKS
Johnny's: If these systems are upheld by Om-neeshent bEndgineers.
It's helpful to keep in mind that
I don't need a leader.
There is no one that can lead me.
Only I can do that.
Only I can take myself out
of the populated Data Deserts and Doldrums of Ninetbeen.
-- Thrusher Swainson, Bear M.B.
Johnny's: That helps.
It gets pretty wHoley there anyway.
And y'know,
For Ninetbeen thousand years,
Brads and Janets had shewed up
and crashed
and data'd on this forbidden planet,
and now a swishstory of moments expected me to clean up after every One.
I have to wash out and flatten my soopy-brains,
and re-account for every drop of used mental toil.
And I have to toe the bill for nuclear taste
and churned memory banks
and blue-tailed toxic sludge effortlessly received
a regeneration before I was torn.
-- You and Me and Everyone We See
"The two aims of The Parties,
Brads and Janets,
are to conquer the whole reality of The Word
and to relinquish once and for all
the possibility of independent thought.
crushing our brains as they go."
-- Johnny's and Suzy's
Johnny's: But really,
I just don't want to end without a few angerous thoughts,
I say.
It's nothing anymore to have a beautiful stock body and mind.
You see those Johnnys and Suzys that are completely stock Faery,
right out of a Mother's showroom from 1980 to 2000,
I always think:
“what a chaste.”
-- You and Me and Everyone We See
Suzy's: Oh yeah,
and don't forget to
STOP: TURN THOUGHT
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 5:25 PM UTC
And you said you wanted good things
like things of light and sweetness.
You said you wanted me to smile
with peace and all completeness.
So, I give to you my deep dreams
of things not quite so dark,
but if I give to you these things
then you must take my heart.
Oh, these things they come together,
I am wholey packed and made.
You cannot get the smiles without
the special place we made.
You cannot get my flesh dear
without grasping wanting hands.
You cannot get the things you want
unless she understands.
So if you smile before me
and offer me all these,
I offer you my love dear
as i give my hot release.
Hold me
Pull me
Bring me near
Fill me
Take me
Lick the tear
It is yours
as you crave
just tell me when
I should behave.
Tell me when
I should go away.
Tell me dear
when I should stay
I am yours
and you know it's true.
I find the light
inside of you.
Jun 25, 2010
Jun 25, 2010 at 12:21 PM UTC
We’re making memories of nights that seem all too familiar
Cause we did this last week but got too intoxicated to remember
Now we’ve gotta do it again and see if it gets any better..
Like taking pictures…except no matter how many times you retake the picture the smile doesn’t look or become anymore genuine..
Like digging for treasure in the same empty spot hoping you’ll get closer the deeper you go…
Then you realize you’re the treasure and a coffin is your treasure box.
Then again you don’t really mind dying cause you don’t really have much to live for..
Waking up without a purpose is like eating food when you aren’t hungry…
Or Drinking water when you aren’t thirsty…
It just isn’t as good…
Then you starve yourself hoping you might wake up hungry for life…
Or that for a split second you’ll get to taste what it feels like to be completely, wholey and unconditionally HAPPY.
And a genuine happy too…
Not the kind that ends books or movies.
Not the one shown in tumblr quotes or magazines…
But the one written deep within the confines of your body…and radiates as far as your soul can reach.
Dec 11, 2016
Dec 11, 2016 at 8:33 PM UTC
In my hands,
I hold your heart
And crown it,
with all my love
Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 6:35 AM UTC
Isn’t it utterly excruciating when you don’t want to be alone, but you have no choice?
No choice because no one will ever keep you company
And even those who try cannot suffice that whole in your heart
And that whole just keeps getting wider and wider the older you get
Until this heart hangs by one thread
Tearing, two parts
falling to the ground and shattering apart
Yea, we already past that point aren’t we?
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 3:35 PM UTC
In the prison of prevention
Living is my only crime
Both the warden and the inmate
Wish to be the perfect child
My parents never gave me rules
They knew I'd never break them
I'd long since forced myself
Into complete cooperation
But lately through security
Has snuck a wild song
It passes like a ghost through
Every wall, though stout and strong
While restlessly, I dream
It steals me wholey from my cage
Sends my spirit out a-dancing
Past the guard in lolling daze
In the morning, I'll awaken
Safe and sound inside my cell
But the key slipped in my pocket?
Now that, I'll never tell ;)
Apr 19, 2019
Apr 19, 2019 at 4:49 AM UTC
God made the multitude of animals but adam was not so satisfied.
So from with in his own parts did God extract and seeking to please in intention.
So eve came like some devil animal so apart from the thinking adam was left with.
Do we now see that women are apart from humanity.
Like a left winged bat stalking and sufficient where the moon waxes and wanes to and fro, where the seams quake.
Adam was not satisfied wholey.
So the animal was removed
Placed into being,
Now find peace.
Jun 9, 2018
Jun 9, 2018 at 1:44 PM UTC
Who paid me to read Dostoyevsky?
Who paid me to read Solzhen-itsyn?
-no one, and then me, I paid me,
for having some idea,
should ever cause such a time as this:
Synch, Long Now, novel actuality,
down in the epi-stem logic, init
function
enough,
breathe and fret not next breath,
rest assured,
professional care has been taken,
we all become ready to make peace,
previously unthinkable, rights, made
possible whole otherwise, other tongues,
essential utterances eventually all blend,
and we believe the algorythms rhyme truth,
I'll go rhythms tug your muse,
mojo,
samesame gnosishit gnosisnot,
spirit breathes,
spit it out,
feel it being, said as good as done,
once,
upon a certain time,
and in this certain place, we come
hear wholey all she wrote, she wrote
on the wall at Delphi junction,
know:
your scale, measure, worth, weight, whole self.
your appetites are yours to hold true to good.
your owned certainties are your maddest bits.
Mar 21, 2024
Mar 21, 2024 at 5:35 PM UTC