Best Hard Up Poems
she preferred a bulge
the one inside my wallet
now i’m just ~ hard up
By
David Kavanagh
Appleby Fair
Don't go to Appleby fair
you'll be upset at what you see there,
young ponies in harness
driven hard up the road,
men ignorant of horses
and their welfare.
crowds at the riverside
watch plunging horse
being driven to exhaustion
by rough young boys.
Yearlings in harness
needing a rest - coloured
ponies put to the test,
"horse down" someone shouts
as pony in harness lies exhausted,
"don't cut my new traces" the big man says,
so they try to untangle the mare,
who would go to the horse fair
and seebullying and ignorance there.
Form:
Life way back then when i was ten,
From wartime days, to peace again.
Few luxuries on ration books,
Not even scraps for feeding ducks.
But more important than our wealth,
To tend our needs the National Health.
As smoking chimneys mixed with fog,
Our lungs were filled with filthy smog.
Always hard up, no cash to spend,
My mum would say, make do and mend.
Bows and arrows, were once scrap wood,
We all took turns being Robin Hood.
Old pram wheels and packing cases,
Now soap box cars, for thrilling races.
In summertime, games in the park,
Promised my mum, home before dark.
Some orange juice with jam and bread,
Those poor little ducks, never got fed.
On sunny days we had picnics,
Saturdays our treat to watch the flicks.
In windy weather, flying our kites.
Our streets at night, lit by gaslights,
We raced pell-mell down helter skelters.
On top of disused air raid shelters.
Chumping wood for the Guy Fawkes fire,
Sundays, i sang descant, in the choir.
Wintertime rugby, for the school team,
Lots of energy, we let off steam.
Exam results were a big surprise,
Top of the class, winning first prize.
Before it’s too late
Distant bells clatter on cloud fed weathered skies where
darkness creeps past low light vestibules, faded beams flicker
Short skirts wave in a winter wind, breezy attributes
revealing fishnet thighs calling to the next hidden passenger,
batting lashes and blowing bubbles of stale gum placed under
crushed velvet seats worn in places, stained deliberately
for bragging rights and handkerchief blotting
A ghostly mist lingers as lips are touched up, bright red, crimson,
shades of desire, occupational decisions, advertisements leaking
into sewers and hopscotch squares spread along the avenue
Silhouettes in porch lanterns, whistling…so unladylike, ducking
constables with nightsticks swinging like the clapper in those damn bells
waking the unsuspecting and spooking the transients offering
a few coins for a ten dollar dream
Swine wallows in last week’s gossip, slimy little beings
fat on sausage and biscuits, cursing the rats pushing their way in
below curtains and kitchen windows framing inquisitive eyes,
watching cash change hands and satisfied smirks
on the faces of those wiping feet on mats,
greeting the family in disguise, shirt un-tucked,
long day rewards and dinner on the table
Yesterday’s newspaper tumbles down the walk,
clinging to sign posts, featuring headlines of death, a warning in bold print,
still at large, a menace to society in a grey overcoat,
double breasted and fancy shoeprints in the fresh mud
No further traces except the body, contorted and frozen, smeared faces
littering cobblestone gutters, frightening children and pets,
as passersby look to second floor balconies, oblivious
Midnight calls, staggering drunkards exit Chauncey’s,
hard up and spent, slurred laughter, boisterous to hide worries
and tomorrow’s jobs, time clock lies and penciled in wishes
Iron fence posts rust at the gateway as they glance to the headstones
of friends long past and recent memories, sensing the urge,
seeing the painted nails and low cut blouses, thinking…
before it’s too late
While from a secluded archway…
A is for Ant (and for ass, your dad is an example of an ass)
B is for Bee (and for b*stard, your dad is a bast*rd - first class)
C is for Chicken (and for a word I don’t want to say - but see K)
D is for Dog (and also for Dynamite - which I’d like to shove up your dad’s... see A)
E is for Eagle (and for egotistical effing... see K... and C)
F is for Frog (and for Fu*ker, which your dad’s been doing with someone who isn’t me)
G is for Giraffe (and for Git - your dad is a Git... and he has two faces)
H is for Horse (and for Hard Up - which your dad was... in too many places)
I is for Insect (and for Insolvent, which thanks to me, he’ll soon be, with just one legal shove)
J is for Jellyfish (and Judas. Your Dad’s a Judas... with a rash from his illicit love)
K is for Kitten (and for making some words sound worse - see C)
L is for Lion (and Lobster, a creature with claws that belongs at the bottom of the sea - hmmm...)
M is for Mouse (and for machete and for manhood... which gives me an idea)
N is for Newt (and Nymphomaniac - neither should work at IKEA)
O is for Owl (and Optimistic, well, he thought that he left me fulfilled)
P is for Penguin (and for Philandering, at which your daddy is skilled)
Q is for Quail (and for Quickie, the best that your daddy could do)
R is for Rabbit (and Rampant - and once I got that, how did we get you?)
S is for Snail (and for Slug, which describes both your dad and his di*k)
T is for Tiger (and Torrid, your dad was this with some Randy chick)
U is for Unicorn (and Underhand, your dad was this night and day)
V is for Vole (and also VD, hence the rash that was listed in J)
W is for Worm (and for Merchant Banker, thats rhyming slang for your father)
X is for Xerus (and X-rated gel, I bet he’ll work up quite a lather)
Y is for Yak (and for Yesterday’s News, which is all your dad turns out to be
Z is for Zebra (and for Zeees, that his Nympho is catching, asleep next to me)
*
[Xerus is a genus of African ground squirrel]
Humanity i love you
because you would rather black the boots of
success than enquire whose soul dangles from his
watch-chain which would be embarrassing for both
parties and because you
unflinchingly applaud all
songs containing the words country home and
mother when sung at the old howard
Humanity i love you because
when you’re hard up you pawn your
intelligence to buy a drink and when
you’re flush pride keeps
you from the pawn shop and
because you are continually committing
nuisances but more
especially in your own house
Humanity i love you because you
are perpetually putting the secret of
life in your pants and forgetting
it’s there and sitting down
on it
and because you are
forever making poems in the lap
of death Humanity
i hate you
Compassion is lost
Understanding is the key
Love is the answer
Unlocking the pain
Making waves in the ocean
The under tow pulls
A downward thrust calls
Swim hard up to the blue sky
Breathe in and breathe out
Open mouths suck air
To calm the tired spirits
Exhaling their pain outward
Deeply remember
Listen to the suffering
Take it not on board
Compassion is lost
Understanding is the key
Love is the answer
Rhoda Maverick loved Tom Mix
And cowboys keen on roping tricks
So hard-up men
Found her their hen
And all her chicks were little prix
In pastures of green hue and lavender
We breath in the rich aroma of fresh mountain air
What do we really care about the matter or decision
Through bullwark torn rhetoric circumstance intact
Our claim to fame
A hero within us all
With the framework of light fashioned
By such an adorable call
Through a timeless merger in reaction
We wait for the quiet moment in which to react
The mind in ruthless if not used
Through the after shock of some closed knit yet whimesome chime
In this life its a hard up hill climb
Bent in inner torment fixed on viscious fangs that bite
A plight of sullen yet sudden remorse in flight
The gift within is a choice
To stay humble amidst the given plotted exploits
The sudden chance at which to reinvent
A time well spent in thought by which to ponder
Silenced in the inner portion of one's brain
Await the new coming day
A given chance by which to pray..
There is so much more I need to say !
There is a hero in us all,
A challenge to be free is a question in time ?
I wonder if she really feels the passion in my hand
When I touch her, and in my lips when I kiss her
I wonder if she notices the pride in my voice when I say that I'm her man
And I wonder if she hear me with I tell her that I'm in love with her
And that I'll do anything to please her
I wonder if she knows that I've been watching her
And that I clearly hear every word that she says
She says that she wants the finer things in life
So I wonder if I give her everything that she dreams of
Will I really become her prince charming, her knight in shining armor?
I wonder if I brought her that rock that she wants to sport on her finger,
Send her on shopping sprees with an unlimited credit card,
Or if I took her on expensive trip across the land
Will I look like some random, desperate, hard up man
That's just trying to win her over to stay close to her
But then, I also wonder if I just simply love her with all of my heart
Without all of the material things
Would she really see me?
I wonder?
Another long night ahead, into the creeping dawn.
Consumed with literary prowess screaming expletives behind my eyes,
Lit solely under humming tungsten vibes, worlds collide with brillant violence.
Seeking sweet serenity of all possiblities; lay me asunder in the wake of some distant paradise,
These words I slam through keyboard's futility, breaking this heart shard by shard.
Emotions spill through electric oceans of cyberspaced souls, drawn inward to a flame,
And somewhere, I know you feel this thrumming desire burning outta control,
Weary with these old stories, but I cant leave the venom of your long gone touch.
Gotta be honest; I love a good lust now and then, but the sins cut deeper now and my bloods' running thin.
Still, I'll keep those letters close, like a junkie seeks out his fix in some holy, depraved plight.
It'll make a good story for the poetry boards, even though I'm not that hard up for material,
Through life, you're the thorn of pleasure in my side; tired of sowing up the wounds,
This is the stuff that fantasies are made of; Rocketing towards certain oblivion and loving the ride,
Plummeting back to earth full force with requiem for starting over, but the deck is set in stone.
Am I bullshitting myself again, or are we searching for excuses to light the ashes?
One last kiss then babe, and don't f***ing hold out on me.
One for the road of no return......
Close the book.
I was Douglass
A good person
Better than the day that gifts a friendly sun
A humble fellow
Humbler than the trees that regard the regal ride of the
wind.
Oh, wealth
You all I desired, then
Why Playing ceaseless host
To those honest crooks
And left me waiting in the pinching rain of hard-up-ish?
Now, I'm Dog-lass
A rich man
Richer like a man who had 1, 000 wives
A smart fellow
Smarter than the chimpanzee even in its own game
The Bees Knees
She was the buzz between the feathery blossom
The flutter midst buds and petals in cloak of fur
Rapturously delving the gene laden pollen
To trap the powdery wonder upon her hairy legs
And transfer to elsewhere blooms of Summer
Reveling in its dizzying smells and peaceful hue
Nectar sated in this golden seasonal time
She must return to face the chores and feed her chums
To sweep and clean and oust the dead
Create a pristine nursery for the queen
And build a perfect wax work cell
Where stored supplies of hand maiden honey
And jelly that feeds the nest, creates a queen
Her days are short and action packed
And cannot remain when her energy’s spent
She flees her lair in one final fixed resolve
Relieves the hive from her expended body
To soar the heights and taste the dregs of summer days
And grasp the hazy blooms from better days
Relive their perfumed air and colored leaves
In one final blend of oblivion
Oh Despair, Despair (to tune ke sera)
When I had grown and reached an age
I did a job expected of me
Would I be rich and earn a good wage
This is what I would be
I became a nurse
Not much in my little purse
The teaching was hard as well
Couldn’t wait for the bell
Didn’t feel that well
If I had had my life again
I might have been a car engineer
Do my own service, fix an old van
Save me a bob or three
Oh the car repair
Can be for the women too
With grease and grime in their hair
See the motor improved
Get the car on the move
Now that I am all grown up
no mum to tell me what I should do
I continue as very hard up
That’s no surprise at all
Oh the nurse’s job
The teacher’s as well you see
The money is not a lot
That’s the end of the jot
That’s the lot, the lot.
into the barnyard with a high knee-jerk
a yellow duck waddles in with a smirk
it pecks the hens on the rump
Old Mac Donald named it Trump
like the president he's hard up at work
9/15/2017
The thing I used to worry before
when I was hard up, strapped for cash
were bills to pay and other concerns.
Indeed, they’re priorities that need attention.
Across the length of time I’ve survived,
I’ve learned to understand in some ways
I’ve opened the doors to other suggestions
that I should be wise whenever called for.
When urgent needs crop up and unfold
I’ve to be quick to attend to them
for they’re number one and essential
in life’s conditions that describes where I am.