"xylophones" poems - Hello Poetry

I. A louse in a house or a mouse on a blouse. A bell that goes **** or a gong that goes **** A gap on a map or a cap on your lap. A drink in the sink or an ink that stinks. A spleen on a screen or a queen who is green. A bow in the snow or a crow that glows. II. A wash or a whip, a lip or a lop, a top or a tip, a car or afar, a bar or a war, a door or a snore, a bore or a nail, a flail or a whale, a run or a bun, a sun or a moon, a spoon or a bus, a fuss or a sigh, a cry or a cheer, a fear or a smile, a while or a pen, a den or a cat, a mat or a hat, a bat or a glass, a vase or a weight, a mate or a fork, a cork or a mop, a cop or a stop. III. Apples and artichokes, ants and antelopes, bees and beers, books and brains, cucumbers and chimneys, ***** and coats, dogs and drains, dots and dominoes, ears and eejits, elephants and exams, flies and flutes, files and friends, grasses and guts, giants and gyms, horrors and hiccups, horses and hills, igloos and irons, irises and idiots, jumpers and jackets, jodhpurs and jellies, kings and kettles, kites and kittens, lions and lamps, lemons and lunches, mums and monsters, mosses and moths, noses and notes, nightmares and needles, oblongs and orang-utans, organs and oranges, paintings and pennies, ponds and pants, quiches and quizzes, questions and queues, rainbows and rings, rascals and rabbits, snakes and sprouts, sweets and salts, trumpets and trains, tables and toasters, umpires and ukuleles, umbrellas and uniforms, violets and vests, violins and vials, wheels and wings, windows and weeds, xylems and x-rays, xylophones and xysters, yachts and yoghurts, yards and yaks, zigzags and zephyrs, ziggurats and zombies.

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Oct 29, 2013

Oct 29, 2013 at 5:03 PM UTC

reece-aj-chambers

Three Lots of Nonsense

I. A louse in a house or a mouse on a blouse. A bell that goes **** or a gong that goes **** A gap on a map or a cap on your lap. A drink in the sink or an ink that stinks. A spleen on a screen or a queen who is green. A bow in the snow or a crow that glows. II. A wash or a whip, a lip or a lop, a top or a tip, a car or afar, a bar or a war, a door or a snore, a bore or a nail, a flail or a whale, a run or a bun, a sun or a moon, a spoon or a bus, a fuss or a sigh, a cry or a cheer, a fear or a smile, a while or a pen, a den or a cat, a mat or a hat, a bat or a glass, a vase or a weight, a mate or a fork, a cork or a mop, a cop or a stop. III. Apples and artichokes, ants and antelopes, bees and beers, books and brains, cucumbers and chimneys, ***** and coats, dogs and drains, dots and dominoes, ears and eejits, elephants and exams, flies and flutes, files and friends, grasses and guts, giants and gyms, horrors and hiccups, horses and hills, igloos and irons, irises and idiots, jumpers and jackets, jodhpurs and jellies, kings and kettles, kites and kittens, lions and lamps, lemons and lunches, mums and monsters, mosses and moths, noses and notes, nightmares and needles, oblongs and orang-utans, organs and oranges, paintings and pennies, ponds and pants, quiches and quizzes, questions and queues, rainbows and rings, rascals and rabbits, snakes and sprouts, sweets and salts, trumpets and trains, tables and toasters, umpires and ukuleles, umbrellas and uniforms, violets and vests, violins and vials, wheels and wings, windows and weeds, xylems and x-rays, xylophones and xysters, yachts and yoghurts, yards and yaks, zigzags and zephyrs, ziggurats and zombies.

63

Squirrel Xylophones past Back like a heart monitor Arch. Flirts with me Behind a tree. Wouldn’t it Be nice To have that Footballer grace Of thoughtless Thought.

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Mar 23, 2012

Mar 23, 2012 at 6:58 PM UTC

alex-rae

Squirrel

Squirrel Xylophones past Back like a heart monitor Arch. Flirts with me Behind a tree. Wouldn’t it Be nice To have that Footballer grace Of thoughtless Thought.

11

I am the key to the lock in your house You burned a hole in my heart Where the arteries flow. And the veins are blocked like gutter drains, No one can pass - through the Red Sea, A no go area. A hairline fracture into a million capillaries, Split arteries to take each feeling individual to the tips of my skin. Still covered beautiful but a nails cuticles, Impaled on a cross resembling a torso. Hollow bones that play like xylophones In the tombs of hidden organs that echo & resonate through the decay of a necrophiliacs playground. Dislocated limbs swing round a rib cage, Splinters shatter the skin revealing the droplets of blood that pour like rain and tears combined. Twist past as they gloop through a cutlets spine. Always on my mind, always on my mind. Cobwebs of memories, Embedded in a decayed gut, Dug up like skeletons in cemeteries to find the remedy or medicine to plug the bullet shaped holes you made in my heart.

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Feb 23, 2016

Feb 23, 2016 at 6:26 AM UTC

gotguanxi

Climbing up the walls (part one)

I am the key to the lock in your house You burned a hole in my heart Where the arteries flow. And the veins are blocked like gutter drains, No one can pass - through the Red Sea, A no go area. A hairline fracture into a million capillaries, Split arteries to take each feeling individual to the tips of my skin. Still covered beautiful but a nails cuticles, Impaled on a cross resembling a torso. Hollow bones that play like xylophones In the tombs of hidden organs that echo & resonate through the decay of a necrophiliacs playground. Dislocated limbs swing round a rib cage, Splinters shatter the skin revealing the droplets of blood that pour like rain and tears combined. Twist past as they gloop through a cutlets spine. Always on my mind, always on my mind. Cobwebs of memories, Embedded in a decayed gut, Dug up like skeletons in cemeteries to find the remedy or medicine to plug the bullet shaped holes you made in my heart.

26

I read a line of scribbled spit nickels Down the front of your shirt You pressed a sheet of purple glue Upon your eyelids So when you wake up The sky glows merry And the trees blow cherry blossom Daggers in your mouth The bees **** in your ears The silence swims in centuries Your pores are hidden caves Through which the red sea tide escapes from Down the river It flows like spilling A bucket of butter soaked Fingers frying on telephone cables Let’s be so close that we are hideous I don’t blink enough to miss the way your eyes looked like half squeezed limes blond knuckled teenagers loving their thighs under the rusty playground slides I tripped on broken windowpanes To laugh until my lungs broke through My temple of loose ***** xylophones Crickets co-wrote my backyard requiem My ears were sauce packets Filled with broken glass microphones Fast food pottery Yogurt stains swing dance when I close my eyes The chalk tastes like baby blankets Horseradish carpenters bleed bitter pellet gun lubricants I hung fifteen different shades of mustard yellow So that I couldn’t hear your sandpaper cackle Only your cousin’s frigid toaster Can understand me

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Aug 30, 2010

Aug 30, 2010 at 12:23 PM UTC

chaotic-melodic

Boiler Room Keys

I read a line of scribbled spit nickels Down the front of your shirt You pressed a sheet of purple glue Upon your eyelids So when you wake up The sky glows merry And the trees blow cherry blossom Daggers in your mouth The bees **** in your ears The silence swims in centuries Your pores are hidden caves Through which the red sea tide escapes from Down the river It flows like spilling A bucket of butter soaked Fingers frying on telephone cables Let’s be so close that we are hideous I don’t blink enough to miss the way your eyes looked like half squeezed limes blond knuckled teenagers loving their thighs under the rusty playground slides I tripped on broken windowpanes To laugh until my lungs broke through My temple of loose ***** xylophones Crickets co-wrote my backyard requiem My ears were sauce packets Filled with broken glass microphones Fast food pottery Yogurt stains swing dance when I close my eyes The chalk tastes like baby blankets Horseradish carpenters bleed bitter pellet gun lubricants I hung fifteen different shades of mustard yellow So that I couldn’t hear your sandpaper cackle Only your cousin’s frigid toaster Can understand me

36

We British tend to take no notice,we just put a poultice on the sores. In this town some back street evangelist, half religion ****** was banging on the jesus beat. I meet his eyes which blink quite black,frontal back to total war and what's this for? The beggar man can't understand why God with his almighty hand cant hand to him some slim hope of a reconcile,to reconcile the frown with the riches of a smile or two but that's what beggars always do,expect what's more than what is there and want to share what they have not, is this the order of the day? I've not a lot of hope that a poultice of green soap and sugar,however hot will do the trick, this society is sick and medication is the order of the day.and we the slick play xylophones in the hope of finding keys to homes. We're British and we tend to do, what others would not , and would not see through unless they're ready to and what do you the British do? but pretend that it's not there.

0

Feb 1, 2014

Feb 1, 2014 at 4:58 PM UTC

john-edward-smallshaw

Rate this

We British tend to take no notice,we just put a poultice on the sores. In this town some back street evangelist, half religion ****** was banging on the jesus beat. I meet his eyes which blink quite black,frontal back to total war and what's this for? The beggar man can't understand why God with his almighty hand cant hand to him some slim hope of a reconcile,to reconcile the frown with the riches of a smile or two but that's what beggars always do,expect what's more than what is there and want to share what they have not, is this the order of the day? I've not a lot of hope that a poultice of green soap and sugar,however hot will do the trick, this society is sick and medication is the order of the day.and we the slick play xylophones in the hope of finding keys to homes. We're British and we tend to do, what others would not , and would not see through unless they're ready to and what do you the British do? but pretend that it's not there.

12

Rubber ***** fired, like grapeshot from cannons, through a hall of xylophones and trampolines. Lemming pianos, evacuated en masse down a spiral staircase, piling, a heap of discordant corpses, at the foot of the last stair. The screaming of a star smeared across space and pasted, like paint, onto the smirking invisible face behind a singularity.

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Jun 7, 2014

Jun 7, 2014 at 5:09 AM UTC

joe-roberts

God's In the Cacophony

Rubber ***** fired, like grapeshot from cannons, through a hall of xylophones and trampolines. Lemming pianos, evacuated en masse down a spiral staircase, piling, a heap of discordant corpses, at the foot of the last stair. The screaming of a star smeared across space and pasted, like paint, onto the smirking invisible face behind a singularity.

14

3 A.M. We summon sea creatures ::::Xylophones:::: Symphonies of reverberated beauty, We call you to join us on this precious land. We ask you to cast away your fears And sing in harmony... Oh, The Solid Light. Enter the depths of the carbon colored Euphoria ::::Atlantic:::: Words illuminate passion Beneath the sea Decadent hordes of colorful kingdoms Playing exuberant percussion ::::Communication:::: Salutations to the wise, Giving us wisdom by way of the sea Where sailors are lost, floating abroad And their loves are driven Mad Waiting for their return Scouring the horizon with soft, sullen eyes. Oh Beautiful Choir We sing this hymn in unision And attempt our rising of the spirits of the deep. A reverb, we have chosen ::::Spring:::: The Delay is gorgeous It ripples in waves +

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Oct 25, 2010

Oct 25, 2010 at 12:16 PM UTC

douglas-allyn

3.A.M.

3 A.M. We summon sea creatures ::::Xylophones:::: Symphonies of reverberated beauty, We call you to join us on this precious land. We ask you to cast away your fears And sing in harmony... Oh, The Solid Light. Enter the depths of the carbon colored Euphoria ::::Atlantic:::: Words illuminate passion Beneath the sea Decadent hordes of colorful kingdoms Playing exuberant percussion ::::Communication:::: Salutations to the wise, Giving us wisdom by way of the sea Where sailors are lost, floating abroad And their loves are driven Mad Waiting for their return Scouring the horizon with soft, sullen eyes. Oh Beautiful Choir We sing this hymn in unision And attempt our rising of the spirits of the deep. A reverb, we have chosen ::::Spring:::: The Delay is gorgeous It ripples in waves +

30

Kawasaki revving on a long 5 *********** screaming pipe, watching from behind a beautiful carousel of red and blue flashing between my eyes All along these tired roads between the wandering streams cutting daily into the sediment eroding the trust of those ancient riverbanks exposing the bodies laid to dust Those great crackling xylophones marimba of memory and curdled blood Screaming now, cracking between the gunshots like bones Souls forever past it No forgiveness, no chance No indictment on a ruddy road I fall off my bike, skid a mile or two feel the deep earth grind my skin, tempting me with heat and a sweet goodbye a challenge I'll never win I skid past the officer in a ditch, hole in his head and a clipboard ripped in two Poor man, back with the sediment wrapped in a carpet of beige and mud all we've ever done I'm not sure what I'd have said As I slid past on my way to death where the Appalachia slammed into Africa saying we were all in this together once before as dinosaurs So how are we any different then? Bunch of stardust and Sediment Acting like winners and consumed by lust for dust and rocks a part of us Leading back our dark descent Kawasaki flips and implodes in a ball of combustibles behind me the sky explodes into red and fire of passion deep in our star of hearts, I know we'll all be the same then empty of body, devoid of toys stripped of lies, those knowledgeable clothes and return to perfect Eden where dirt and earth are us, and dust we discriminate obliterate into the neverend

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Jun 28, 2018

Jun 28, 2018 at 12:44 AM UTC

TimelessWave

Tangled Black and Blue

Kawasaki revving on a long 5 *********** screaming pipe, watching from behind a beautiful carousel of red and blue flashing between my eyes All along these tired roads between the wandering streams cutting daily into the sediment eroding the trust of those ancient riverbanks exposing the bodies laid to dust Those great crackling xylophones marimba of memory and curdled blood Screaming now, cracking between the gunshots like bones Souls forever past it No forgiveness, no chance No indictment on a ruddy road I fall off my bike, skid a mile or two feel the deep earth grind my skin, tempting me with heat and a sweet goodbye a challenge I'll never win I skid past the officer in a ditch, hole in his head and a clipboard ripped in two Poor man, back with the sediment wrapped in a carpet of beige and mud all we've ever done I'm not sure what I'd have said As I slid past on my way to death where the Appalachia slammed into Africa saying we were all in this together once before as dinosaurs So how are we any different then? Bunch of stardust and Sediment Acting like winners and consumed by lust for dust and rocks a part of us Leading back our dark descent Kawasaki flips and implodes in a ball of combustibles behind me the sky explodes into red and fire of passion deep in our star of hearts, I know we'll all be the same then empty of body, devoid of toys stripped of lies, those knowledgeable clothes and return to perfect Eden where dirt and earth are us, and dust we discriminate obliterate into the neverend

48

I want to be your sentient being, Wrap me up in cold air, Breathe a breath and blow out your hot air, You melodramatic superstar, Whisper me into song, There, you lie alone in your gray hair, Old enough to know better but young enough to not care Drown me in whatever you call all of that, It’s hard to see through and it’s warm to the touch, Bruised up and blue black, Filthy dripping, tongues wrapped, I want to suffocate, blow me kisses that make my lungs black, Cigarettes at the dinner table, Fork and knife both like cheek bones, One of us is going to lose here Tell me those nothings that make me feel better, Keep me tethered, Keep me floating around you like a feather, Slick as leather, Less is more and more is better Keep me feeling like a ******* monster, Let me into your guts and I’ll let you into mine, I get this strange feeling every night where it feels like nothing’s ever going to get better I want so badly to be vulnerable, Untouchable yet envious of touch, I have learned how badly it hurts to become, And after I *** I will leave you immediately, I know so much of everything and I get so sick to beat of the drums, I want to rip our chests open and use our ribs like xylophones to the tune of rock n roll suicide, I have become all or nothing, Do or die I have learned the Death Dance, I call it Human, I have never learned to love, I’ve never known Cupid, Yeah, I love the taste of blood, Especially when it’s humid, Always beating myself up, I always ******* do this Now it’s 1am, I’m drunk again, listening to Andrew Jackson Jihad, blacking out on my floor again, again, again, and again, There are stars above my head To the heavens, we are going home, To the hells, we are burning everything that hurt us and after that we will burn ourselves too We will grow to become so beautiful

0

Jan 9, 2018

Jan 9, 2018 at 2:11 AM UTC

richie-vincent

Love And The Burn Scars That Come With It

I want to be your sentient being, Wrap me up in cold air, Breathe a breath and blow out your hot air, You melodramatic superstar, Whisper me into song, There, you lie alone in your gray hair, Old enough to know better but young enough to not care Drown me in whatever you call all of that, It’s hard to see through and it’s warm to the touch, Bruised up and blue black, Filthy dripping, tongues wrapped, I want to suffocate, blow me kisses that make my lungs black, Cigarettes at the dinner table, Fork and knife both like cheek bones, One of us is going to lose here Tell me those nothings that make me feel better, Keep me tethered, Keep me floating around you like a feather, Slick as leather, Less is more and more is better Keep me feeling like a ******* monster, Let me into your guts and I’ll let you into mine, I get this strange feeling every night where it feels like nothing’s ever going to get better I want so badly to be vulnerable, Untouchable yet envious of touch, I have learned how badly it hurts to become, And after I *** I will leave you immediately, I know so much of everything and I get so sick to beat of the drums, I want to rip our chests open and use our ribs like xylophones to the tune of rock n roll suicide, I have become all or nothing, Do or die I have learned the Death Dance, I call it Human, I have never learned to love, I’ve never known Cupid, Yeah, I love the taste of blood, Especially when it’s humid, Always beating myself up, I always ******* do this Now it’s 1am, I’m drunk again, listening to Andrew Jackson Jihad, blacking out on my floor again, again, again, and again, There are stars above my head To the heavens, we are going home, To the hells, we are burning everything that hurt us and after that we will burn ourselves too We will grow to become so beautiful

44

I used to picture you with a voice oscillating like ocean water, casting words as nets on a surface shimmering effervescent green. And even the handful of stars outside dawdled just a while longer to see the fish rise up and wink out in the morning sun, scales slipping together the way clay lips slot against coral white heart-cages and curved, ivory xylophones patterned like shadows and gold strips of sun. Everything quivers; we are only a cosmic moment singing aubades, horsehair and rosin falling like shooting stars against mahogany and warm steel, origami folded bed, redefined by sharp angles and all the ways I am not afraid. When we rise to sleep, pressed sable will drip down and the air will be rimmed with the sea salt tang of dried coffee.

0

Nov 27, 2017

Nov 27, 2017 at 1:29 PM UTC

Codetta

Matutine

I used to picture you with a voice oscillating like ocean water, casting words as nets on a surface shimmering effervescent green. And even the handful of stars outside dawdled just a while longer to see the fish rise up and wink out in the morning sun, scales slipping together the way clay lips slot against coral white heart-cages and curved, ivory xylophones patterned like shadows and gold strips of sun. Everything quivers; we are only a cosmic moment singing aubades, horsehair and rosin falling like shooting stars against mahogany and warm steel, origami folded bed, redefined by sharp angles and all the ways I am not afraid. When we rise to sleep, pressed sable will drip down and the air will be rimmed with the sea salt tang of dried coffee.

14

Words I admire, Alphabet absolutely Beyond beautiful Consideration and compassion Darling division dreams Earth excellence Fabulous favorites Green grapes Horizons of Hawaii Improve Intelligence Jewels of joy Kittens of kindness Love and laughter Missing Mother Necessity naps naturally Opera, orchestra, obviously Personification Quizzes of Quasars Romances of Rome Supercalifragilistexpialidocious Time traveling trio Understatement unraveled Vines of Verona Xylophones Yukon Zero zapped

0

May 1, 2018

May 1, 2018 at 8:52 PM UTC

sunprincess

Alphabetize Me

Words I admire, Alphabet absolutely Beyond beautiful Consideration and compassion Darling division dreams Earth excellence Fabulous favorites Green grapes Horizons of Hawaii Improve Intelligence Jewels of joy Kittens of kindness Love and laughter Missing Mother Necessity naps naturally Opera, orchestra, obviously Personification Quizzes of Quasars Romances of Rome Supercalifragilistexpialidocious Time traveling trio Understatement unraveled Vines of Verona Xylophones Yukon Zero zapped

26

when stars shed their light we hear xylophones chimes and kalimbas the clear sound of stars when stars shed their light

0

Dec 26, 2016

Dec 26, 2016 at 7:07 PM UTC

stu-harley

When Stars Shed Their Light

when stars shed their light we hear xylophones chimes and kalimbas the clear sound of stars when stars shed their light

14

About animals, abortion, and abilities About bouquets, Buddhism, and bilious people. About cats, cars, and caring about others. About depression, death, and the process of dying. About eating disorders, evil step-mothers, and ecstasy. About fattiness, fear(s), and the trait of being friendly. About goats, ghosts, and greetings in different countries. About happiness, healthy diets, and humanitarian rights. About intimacy, icicles, and igloos. About jack-in-the-boxes, the juvenile system, and justified ****** About kindness, kissing, and kitties. About love, living, and ladies. About moms, mediocrity, and medicine. About no meaning no, feeling naked, and nature. About ovulation, October, and court orders. About periods, peskiness, and perverts. About quirks, queerness, and qualifying for college. About **** razors, and reading. About *** Sudafed, and scandals. About taxi drivers, tables and what they hold, along with thoughts About UW-Madison, unfortunate circumstances, and unemployment. About vehicles, valuable objects, and violence. About waistlines, waitressing, and what a waste of time homework is. About xylophones, xanax, and xanthous. About you, younglings, and yellow flowers. About zoos, zanies, and zaps.

0

Jan 11, 2018

Jan 11, 2018 at 4:12 PM UTC

imperfectone

I Have Poems to Write

About animals, abortion, and abilities About bouquets, Buddhism, and bilious people. About cats, cars, and caring about others. About depression, death, and the process of dying. About eating disorders, evil step-mothers, and ecstasy. About fattiness, fear(s), and the trait of being friendly. About goats, ghosts, and greetings in different countries. About happiness, healthy diets, and humanitarian rights. About intimacy, icicles, and igloos. About jack-in-the-boxes, the juvenile system, and justified ****** About kindness, kissing, and kitties. About love, living, and ladies. About moms, mediocrity, and medicine. About no meaning no, feeling naked, and nature. About ovulation, October, and court orders. About periods, peskiness, and perverts. About quirks, queerness, and qualifying for college. About **** razors, and reading. About *** Sudafed, and scandals. About taxi drivers, tables and what they hold, along with thoughts About UW-Madison, unfortunate circumstances, and unemployment. About vehicles, valuable objects, and violence. About waistlines, waitressing, and what a waste of time homework is. About xylophones, xanax, and xanthous. About you, younglings, and yellow flowers. About zoos, zanies, and zaps.

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