"xxxxx" poems
PLEASE FORGIVE ME
for not reading right now.
1) I've been very busy with personal issues.
2) I've been on the low with some poets
who need to talk.
3) I've been emailing Elliott York all
morning about a couple of things.
a) The asinine war that was happening
here on his site. It's caused many to leave
and it (the attacks on Wolf Spirit included)
MUST STOP. Gary L has extended the olive
branch. THE REST OF YOU MUST DO SO
AS WELL. It's kindergarten stuff! You're
ADULTS. ACT LIKE IT!
b) A couple of years ago I came up with an
idea. The Poet Tree T-shirt and poster. It would kind of look like this...
P O E T S
XXXXX
XXXX♡XXX
XXXXXXXXXX
XXXXXXXXXXXX
XXXXXXXXXX
XXXXXXX
XXXX
**P
O
E
T
R**
love.joy Y peace
happiness.pain
other.poet.words.
...FILL HEARTS
The X's above would be POET NAMES!
YOUR NAME WOULD BE ON THE SHIRTS!
You could then get the t-shirt/poster
from Elliott York!
It's an idea that I personally put out
a while back but never was able to
follow up on.
Email Elliott York if you like the idea.
I want it to UNIFY POETS. We are ALL
LEAVES ON THIS TREE!
Thanks for reading.
♡ Catherine
Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 3:17 PM UTC
.
xxxxx
xxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxx
xxxxxxx
xxxxxxx
xxxxxxx
xxxxxxx
xxxxxxx
xxxxxxx
xxxxxxx
xxxxx xxxxx
xxxxxxx xxxxxxx
xxxxx xxxxx
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 7:57 AM UTC
Dear Miss ********,
We regret to inform you that unfortunately at this time we do not have space for you at our company.
Yours,
Xxxx xxxxxxxx
Dear Miss *******,
We regret to inform you that unfortunately at this time we cannot offer you a place with our company as you are under qualified.
Yours ** xxxxx
Dear Miss ********,
Thank you for your application. We regret to inform you that you are over-qualified for the position.
Yours, xxxxxxx ***
Dear Miss ******,
I don’t think so love. This isn’t even a letter, this is my managerial position on you handing me your cv.
Cheers, bahbye now
Dear Miss *******,
This isn’t really a letter either, but despite how un-pc this is, we can’t hire you due to your gender.
Thanks anyway, save your paper.
Dear Miss ********,
Thank you for your application, unfortunately we had stronger applicants.
Yours, etc., aaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaa
Dear Miss ********,
Thank you for your application. Unfortunately we are not hiring at the moment even though we had advertised the job you applied for.
Yours, xxxxxxxxx xxxxx
Dear Miss ********,
We had left it between you and another applicant, and couldn’t decide so we flipped a coin, and she won. You’re a lovely girl though.
Yours, fffffff ffff fffff
Dear Miss ********,
I refer to your claim for Jobseekers Benefit/Assistance at VVVVVV’s CCCCCC local office. Jobseekers Benefit/Assistance claims are subject to periodic review, consequently, I would appreciate if you would attend this office for interview on the 31/17/78 and bring the following :
1. Proof of Identity (i.e. Passport or Driving Licence or Long version of your Birth Certificate)
2. Proof of Residency (e.g. Letter from landlord/ Rent Book/ Lease/ Mortgage Receipt/ Letter from Parents + Household Bill)
3. Written Proof of recent job applications and replies.
4. Proof of job applications made through FAS
5. FAS courses applied for.
6. A copy of your Curriculum Vitae (CV): unemployed from
7. If your spouse/partner is an adult dependent on your claim, please bring his/her GNIB and Passport/Travel Documents.
Failure to respond to this letter may lead to suspension or disallowance of claim.
Yours sincerely,
**** *****
Local Officer
Feb 15, 2013
Feb 15, 2013 at 10:26 AM UTC
This is not poetry.
I'm sorry to disappoint.
XXXX ** *** XXXXXX.
X'X XXXXX ** XXXXXXXXXX.
OOOO OO OOO OOOOOO.
O'O OOOOO OO OOOOOOOOOO.
This is not ironic. This is what we are.
xoxo
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 10:33 AM UTC
) (
( )
) (
----
( )
xxxxx xxxxxx
KRISHNA !
Bold
YE warrior COME !
Krishna Krishna
The fires of this very night
Gonna lead to a violent Dawn
////
KRISHNA !!!!!!!! !!!!!!!! !!!!!
O
Boys will be boys
When they choose to be Men
Look at all the evil
And the ugliness
Guess it's time to stop studying
And to go and take the test
• •• •
KRISHNA !
bold WARRIOR
Come
Krishna
Krishna
KRISHNA !
Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 1:33 AM UTC
XXXXX¥¥¥¥¥¥
XXXXXXXX¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥
XXXXXXXXX¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥
XXXXXXXXXX¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥
XXXXXXXXXXXXX¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥
XXXXXXXXXXXXX¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥
lady lady lady gent gent gent
lady< @>lady gent<@>gent
lady lady lady gent gent gent
ady lady lady gent gent gen
dy lady lady gent gent ge
y lady lady gent gent g
lady lady gent gent
dy lady gent ge
lady gent
I played with my brother's GI Joe.
Is that okay?
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 12:20 AM UTC
So beautiful lay you all
In your tiny beds
Cuddled up with
Panda, Firstlove,
Tiny tears and
Noel.
Little fingers curled tight
Knees rolled up
I leaned over you all and kissed
What was my great delight.
We went about together
Down the roads and parks
Caught a train to London
The museums and the art.
You grew up, gently, slowly
In each other’s arms
We made Chocolate Easter
Bunnies and Christmas shower.
We touched the lights together
Sang each other’s songs
Four wonderful children
Never got it wrong.
Love Mummy xxxxx
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 4:45 PM UTC
x.
understand that nothing is real.
**
search for art in all that you see (for art is present in all things).
***
art is everything, nothing is real. we are left to conclude that art is nothing, nothing is art, or perhaps everything is nothing-which makes art more real than nothing, because it is in fact something.
xxxx.
when we smoked cigarettes in the alley way during winter, our backs against the cold brick wall; well, darling, that was art.
xxxxx.
you made poems and paintings and songs and dances, but i’d never seen anything more real (or perhaps less real) than the way your eyes looked when they were in love. and that, well that was the truest art there could ever be.
xxxxxx.
understand that your love is everything, and everything is art, but nothing is real, or art is nothing. my words will never quite be right, but your eyes in love were the rightest thing that never existed -(or existed more than anything).
May 21, 2012
May 21, 2012 at 8:17 PM UTC
'xxxxx,
where have you been all my life?'
the sarcastic exaggeration sends a chill down my spine.
where have i been?
right here baby.
waiting;
not for the postman who's late on a tuesday,
or for the world to find peace,
not for the politicians to stop lying,
or the rain to stop falling,
not for a little appreciation,
or even the pain to go away,
but right here,
right here baby,
i've been waiting, all this time,
for you,
5 miles away from your hotel,
with my arms
open,
my heart
open,
just praying for a phone call, a text message,
a ******* hello if anything,
but no,
i wait in vain for someone
who couldn't even give a ****
about me or anything of the sort,
and then you come to me,
when its just too late,
asking
where i've been,
when i'm fairly certain,
you knew all along.
Oct 9, 2011
Oct 9, 2011 at 1:26 PM UTC
you might not miss me
i miss my nails in your back
screaming out your name
Sep 17, 2016
Sep 17, 2016 at 11:02 PM UTC
Missing the person who gave me my strength
My thirst for life
My humour
My laugh
Missing the person who showed me unconditional love
To think outside the box
To laugh at myself
To smile in bad times
Missing the person who told me never give up
Walk tall
Chin up
Rubber **** to be attached
Missing the person who gained respect from all that knew her
Font of all knowledge
Who could set anyone on the right path
Who’s cwtches made all feel awesome
Missing the person who knew me better than I do
Who knew I’d put water in her whisky
Knew I was fibbing even on the telephone
Was there no matter what
Missing the person I called Mam xxxxx
Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 3:12 PM UTC
Inside the church garden of St Mary’s
We ate our egg and cheese sandwich
A child came out dressed as an angel
Clothed in white with a frown
The boy cried because he was not Mary
Great droplets of tears from black globes
And there they stood the play not begun
My two lollipop friends
The photograph now in my room.
Love Grandma Xxxxx
Jan 30, 2019
Jan 30, 2019 at 10:19 AM UTC
Peter taking Mark
behind the big rock in the park,
pushing his peter to the mark;
Mark screamed, "u're killing me,"
Peter said, "Be quiet, I'm almost done.
I'm done now." Standing,
"Now I'll do u," said Mark.
Shirley the Squirrel lived seven
blocks downtown up a cobblestone
alley; there were men gathered
in the alley every night Shirley
would be upstairs; no one ever
met Shirley b/c Sheila charged
a buck less & didn't mind the hard
cobblestone on her bruised backside
Sol came to Lot's backdoor & knocked;
what do u want, Sol said Lot
& Sol asked for a beer; go get ur own,
shouted Lot; ah, but if the Lord asked
u for a beer wouldst thou deny him?
Is the Lord at the bar right now, asked
Lot, if he is I'll buy a round for the house;
Sol went away thirsty never to know
whether the Lord was indeed at the bar
at that very moment;
x xxxx *** ***
*** ** ** x x
xxxxxxx
** xxxxxx *** x ***
*** x xxxx *** ** ** x x
xxxxxxxx xxxx ***
xxxxxxx xxxxx ***
x ** *** xxxxxx x x
*** *** xxxxx *** ** ** x x
xxxxxxxx xxxx ***
xxxxxxx xxxxx ***
*** *** xxxx xxxxx
xxxxx xxxx *** ** ** x x
xxxxxxxx xxxx *** xxxxxxx
xxxxx *** *** *** xxxx xxxxx
xxxxx xxxx *** ** ** x x
xxxxxxxx xxxx ***
xxxxxxx xxxxx ***
*** *** xxxx xxxxx
xxxxx
Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 3:34 AM UTC
Two leaves in a puddle of rainwater
On the steps of the Maplin Gallery;
Photographs of ****** disarmed
Floating in a time of experiment
These two images combine
To ask questions of how art
shows the way we lived in the
1990s.
Love Mary xxxxx
Jan 30, 2019
Jan 30, 2019 at 10:42 AM UTC
Closing my eyes, drifting to sleep
Count as they jump, jumping white sheep
At mind’s edge I stand, then take my leap
Into the abyss, I’m falling so deep
Float from the sky, touch down into sand.
Dancing, singing, they ask me to play
Shrug my shoulders and reach out my hand
My worries from life then fade away
We dance on the beach, me and those sheep
Dancing and laughing, now sound asleep
A presence nearby, keeping at bay
Think nothing of it, just dance and play.
The sun’s always rising, in this strange land
The clouds making shapes and the trees are all purple.
Playful white sheep still dance in the sand
Sudden feelings of dread fill me, something is wrong.
The presence draws closer, my thoughts become darker
Turned to the sheep, I look for similar feelings
But their cute white sheep faces have all disappeared
In unison they stop dancing, turn and glare.
From tiny sheep faces, just sunken red eyes remain
They notice me noticing, “It’s not nice to stare”
Whipping my head ‘round, the presence stands there
A being so dark, I can’t make out what it is
My breathing becomes heavier, a rotten smell comes from his
“You shouldn’t have come” he says “You shouldn’t be here”
Before I could run, a flash of horror filled my mind
Every bad thing I’ve done and been victim of.
“You came to my world seeking dance with the fauna,
An escape from your problems, the pains, the trauma.
But you cannot escape, for I am the window of pain,
Forcing all to look through, and you won’t get my pity,
Nor will I feign your disdain, for now you see,
This is my domain.”
The horrors from life swirled violently through my mind.
Shaking my head, I cry “Please take me home!”
But the presence just laughs
And the demon-eyed sheep laugh
And they laugh
Laughing like school children
In fact, exactly so…
Lift my head from my desk, then I see
Room full of students, laughing at me.
Teacher approached, “XXXXX, you were snoring.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. This lesson is boring.”
Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 12:10 AM UTC
what if,
out of the increasingly smaller amount of the women that could love you in this world,
she was the absolute best you could of had.
That way you can just pass it off as just yet another life mistake made by Jonathan Xxxxx
Summer2012
Feb 2, 2013
Feb 2, 2013 at 11:51 AM UTC
Ive broken bread with Death
on more than one
occasion
X
X
XXXXX
X
X
X
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 9:58 PM UTC
I am going to read some stuff at the first open mic poetry evening I've been to! Would anyone mind browsing my poems and suggesting ones I could read? Thanks heaps! Xxxxx
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 6:57 AM UTC
The day that we lost you we lost it,
The day that you left us we cried,
I tried to forget, I remember,
I tried to forget you, I lied.
I lied when I said that I missed you,
I lied when I said that I lied,
I wished and I wished that I’d fixed you
I missed you the day that you died.
I always remember November
That day you were taken away
But we shed a tear for every year,
When the skies were crying and grey.
4 Years gone, we miss you. xxxxx
Oct 3, 2011
Oct 3, 2011 at 5:13 PM UTC
I love the way you sit
Your long leggies taut
On the soft furniture
Coloured socks on toes.
I love your long fingers
Spread out on keyboard
Intent on dancing about
The tap, click of moving.
I love your face in beard
Flowing silver silky hair
Rests on wide shoulders
I really, really love you .
Mary xxxxx"
Nov 21, 2018
Nov 21, 2018 at 3:40 PM UTC
The bungalow stood empty after he died
Garden shoes hugged the porch step
The glass panelled front door showing
Pale translucent echoes of familiarity
Through its six oblong windows.
I was never allowed to visit
After the day of the funeral
Never able to bounce on the
Cream candlewick double bed
Which had been home.
Or to collect cuttings from the
Dilapidated garden, just a rose
Or two would do to recall a day
Of Summer and deckchairs
Tea and cakes eaten with care.
I was never allowed to embrace
Years of happy holidays shared
Breath in the beauty of memory
Deep down where flowers grow
Never allowed another Spring.
Love Mary xxxxx
Jan 15, 2019
Jan 15, 2019 at 7:46 AM UTC
It may take years for poetry to be acknowledged but when it is
Great truths unfolded that leave one tremulous with beauty and
Awareness so great that the world turns in disbelief.
Somehow there are no other legistrators of the truth for all are self
Selfinterested and infested.
So dear poets write for humanity that your words touch those servants of time.
Changing understanding and open minds
To the reality of nature’s innocence and the wickedness of history and humankind.
Love Mary xxxxx
Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 10:30 AM UTC
Mary lived before
Jesus but before she
was a mother, god
was god before she
was Mary, Jesus
was god before she
was Mother Mary
if Jesus is god &
Mary is Jesus'
mother & god
is god, Mary is
god's mother too
** xxxx ** x xxxxx
*** xxxxxxx *** **
** xxxxx *** **
xxxx xxxx xxxxxxxx
*** xxxxxxxx xxxx
xxxx xxxxxxx ** ***
x xxxxxx ** x **
*** xxxxx ** xxxxx
xxxxx x xxxxxxx ***
May 6, 2018
May 6, 2018 at 12:38 AM UTC
His finger locks my teeth together
And stitches the tip of my tongue
Into a warzone horizon of madness,
Homes are destroyed; families broken
And still we are lost in our own lives
He, who feeds on his mother’s carcass
Wrecks his caged gaze apart,
My minuscule arms set him free from the light
Guns
Ships
Tridents
Pierce my ear with a pint-sized shell
And swallows my religious sentiments
Smoke
Ashes
Flesh
Their sentiments haunt me in memories
Cushioned and stuffed like quilt in my pillows
Burning the effigies into the toxins I swallowed
Down by the valley of romantic deaths
It sipped my soul out of my bottle XXXXX
Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 2:58 PM UTC
Your Out To Get Me,
I'm Going To Miss You
I Can't Lie About That
It's For The Best Of Us
Take Care. XXXXX
Sincerely, Benji Bugz
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 12:52 PM UTC