Best Hop Up Poems
I didn't know the sunlight 'till she brought it to the house,
or how much better pancakes are when shaped like Mickey Mouse.
I've learned that giving horsey rides can carpet burn your knees;
that lunch is not complete without that gormet Mac and cheeze.
She'll climb in the recliner and hop up on my lap,
if I am quick to promise she's not there to take a nap,
and what an easy thing it is when it comes time to chose,
the two of us and Sponge Bob or just me and evening news.
We watch the Disney movies, every witch and cartoon dog,
Schrek and Harry Potter, every Princess, every frog.
The table in the dining room's a Kingdom end to end;
Cinderellea's plastic castle's there and every molded friend.
I've learned to loosen Play Dough up when it's sat out too long,
and when I'm singing Taylor swift, I get the lyrics wrong.
A crayon beats a marker for original design,
and it ain't real important that we stay inside the line.
She finds my taste in literature is just a bit obtuse,
'cause there aren't any Princesses in books by Doctor Suess.
Outside to build a snow man, her giggles keep me young;
love is watching Maisey catch the snowflakes on her tongue.
Dear Mama
I'm older now and so much has changed
I miss you don't get me wrong
but I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place
and I can't even tell you to your face
so I'm writing because my cowardliness has forbidden me to speak
like my lips have been locked shut and somehow
I lost the key
and my mind is overflowing so please don't hate me
I'm trying to balance my reality and form a friendship
without hurting your feelings
and I know I sound insane
I get it, you don't think it's that deep
but you don't see what I see
we haven't imagined the same future for me
you're so stuck on what you think is for me
that you're to blinded to witness
that I'm suffering Mama
I'm suffering
Dear Mama
thanks for keeping in touch
thanks for all the over-text lessons
but I'm good
I don't need a schooling session
I have teachers
I have counselors
I have coaches
For God sake I have a mom
who puts me in the right direction
you missed your chance years ago
So you need to hear this
let me go
I'm only hanging on by a thread
yet you still dangle from my leg
WHY? because when it snaps
we're both dead
Can't you see that I'm not just gonna hop up and leave when I turn 18
classified as a runaway
and for what?
so you can just go back to you old ways
Can't you see that you've broken me
caused my head to spin uncontrollably
I want to please you but I want to be happy
Can't you see that I'm suffering mama
I'm suffering
Dear Mama
I realized that I really don't know you
we had visits and sleepovers
I was a kid, you were all I knew
But I'm older now and so much has changed
I don't see things the same way
I've found somewhere else where I feel safe
I hope you will understand one day
I want you to be in my life
when I graduate
have kids
and heck when I'm a bride
and yes I'll still take your advice
but Don't turn advice into teachings
I hope now you can see my reality
and your heart isn't broken into a million pieces
just know I'm always here to be your friend
and if you never want to talk again I understand
but you see that would just add on to why I'm suffering mama
I'm suffering
Dear Mama
It's time
to say goodbye to that title
Dear Renisha
I love you always
-Angel
Note* (I have two moms)
I call my biological mother "Mama" and my adoptive mother "Mom"
I was going to jump on the bed at midnight
While she slept to wish her a happy birthday.
But she looked so asleep and it was so quiet.
I did it anyway because it's funnier to go through with it.
It's not like I'm throwing a nerf ball at her head.
So I get my knees on the bed and hop up-and-down
And "whisper-yell," "happy birthday happy birthday."
And she's not upset, in fact, she's giggling.
And she whispers to me that she loves me.
I whisper to her that I love her, too.
And I leave the room with the bed
I just jumped and sang on.
And I'm 32.
I mean it's not like I fell off the bed
While jumping and hurt my head.
And made an owie.
I'm not 5.
I'm just a soul whose intentions are good
Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood
I work up today, with a dark cloud hanging low over my head
No smile in sight
No Good Morning (in sweet tone)
No Beaming spirit to inspire her smile
Tongue sharp and harsh
My good morning was dry and cold
The shock in her eyes, broke my heart
Her face painted with hurt and worry
Feeling of guilt settle
Good morning (in softer tone)
I'm just a soul whose intentions are good
Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood
It’s been a long day
The weight of the world seems to rest heavily on my shoulder
Everything is wrong
I am wrong
Wrong body
Wrong job
Wrong life
Got home moody
No how is your day kiss to give
No hug, no smile
Just empty distance space
Ice cold graveyard in a warm heated house
How was work?
Her worried tone soften me
Another day done
Voice in a failed attempted at a cheerier tone
I'm just a soul whose intentions are good
Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood
There are days
When I dance and sing in the rain
Skip
Hop, up and down the street
You will mistake me for a much younger guy
Worries out of my mind
I pull her to dance to the music of our life
Our joyful of life
She laughing out aloud
Calling me crazy
I guess I am
Crazy in love,
Crazily happy to be alive
My kisses are never far away
Most days are like this
But
I'm just a soul whose intentions are good
Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood
Billy Carts and Marbles
Yes, we all played marbles when we were just kids,
Had a big ‘Tom Bowler’ and a bag full of migs.
Held onto your marble with fingers and thumb
No fudging allowed, and your eye was the plumb.
Picked out your opponent and stayed on the line,
Connect with a’ kisser’ that marbles now mine.
I also had swappies, a hand full of cards
Would take them to school and start bargaining hard.
I ‘ll swap you this one, if you swap me that
Get a pair or a set, so long as they matched.
We all had so many by end of the day
Then sort out our stacks, or just put them away.
Outside we played hopscotch, a tor we would find
Drew lines on the concrete, or dirt, did not mind.
Throw into the big squares then, hop up and down
On one leg, but out, if your foot touched the ground,
Or stood on the lines so we learned how to leap
Right into the square, not just fall in a heap.
A Billy cart made from old pram wheels and wood
Collected from tips, we brought home what we could.
With rope we would tie on, to steer the front wheels
Attached to the T Bar, would brake with your heels.
Then, down the big hill we would really fly fast
But if one just fell off, all have a good laugh.
On wet days we stayed in and played our board games
Tiddly Winks or Ludo, the boys had their trains.
But often outside in our gumboots would go
To play in the rain or built men in the snow.
For hours in raincoats all riding our bikes,
But if it was windy, released our stringed kites.
A skipping rope featured, also a big hoop
Even boys had a go when we looped the loop.
Kiss-Chasey when older, to catch out the one
A peck on the cheek, oh what innocent fun.
Our days filled with something, “I’m bored” never said
Up early each morning, then early too bed.
That bush school I went to, my memories still dwell
The Three R’s we learnt there, plus we all could spell.
At school Monday morning, the flag we would raise
Sing ‘God Save the Queen’ with respect would we praise.
Oh yes, I remember with fondness recall
Those days of my childhood; how we had it all.
Christine ©
I went to the docs for a blood test; routine
That morning I’d been on the weighing machine
So I knew my weight and my height… give or take
(And, okay, I don’t look a lot like a rake)
He asked me my height and he asked me my weight
Which I may not have known on an earlier date
I said, “Five-eleven and fifteen stone-ish,”
Then thought I’d impress him… “I eat lots of fish.”
But he shook his head with a quiet, “Tutt tutt”
As I sat and stared at the size of his gut
He told me that I ought to lose excess weight
I just had to say, “Are you serious, Mate?”
I think that upset him, for that’s when he said,
“Male, sixty-five? Hop up on the bed…”
Through dry lips I muttered, “O, heavens above.”
He said, “This won’t hurt,” and he slipped on a glove…
guess what I'mma bust back with a fully loaded gloc/
pistol so hot that the devil told that he want his flames back//
your boy's the grim ripper and i'm more sicker than an tracks/
spit tin out aids cuz i burn mc each time i hop up pon the track//
and in this game ya don't want beef with me cause I'm just that nigga/
you have a gun oh well but do have the heart to pull the trigga//
cause my bullets is like crack because it's put holes in your brain/
so blank what you heard cause my whole crew is insane//
i'm down for my nation like obama said it's time for a change/
i live with no emotion my heart is stuck in this damn cage//
and lets make it clear your block ain't hot it's colder than the ice age/
i got old money i was on the block in the stone age//
I’m Sorry
I’m sorry that I am a girl and I like to be a girl,
that I like to dress up on special occasions,
and my hair to have a little curl,
I’m sorry that I show my shoulders,
just to feel content,
and spray my perfume to have no smelly scent,
I’m sorry that my makeup is a bit too much,
and my eyebrows are on fleek,
oh sorry I'm not the one to be meek,
I’m sorry that our society sucks,
be yourself they say, as they discriminate the things you do,
but I am telling you that I will have no part of the societal flux,
I’m sorry that I want to be myself,
and do what I do,
while they treat me like a doll forgotten on a shelf,
dusty, broken and blue,
I’m sorry that I want stand up for what is right,
and walk towards that good ol' bright light,
only so society can put me down just out of spite,
I’m sorry that I will not let Society put me down,
because they all treat me like a clown,
I’m sorry it makes society feel good,
they should call me Robin Hood,
I’m sorry that I make you uncomfortable,
but deep down inside I am bit dysfunctional,
I’m sorry that I want to be me,
while I hop up and down with glee,
I’m sorry that I want to be girl and I should be a girl,
that I like to dress up on special occasions,
and my hair to have a little curl,
Oh no need to worry,
because I’m really not sorry.
-Mia B.
Rasta ringnride
Hop up; get inside
Travel roun da town
Hear some funky sound
Me bus me pride an joy
Me music don't annoy
Me keep it in me head
Me sings it in me bed.
I travel all roun town
To ferry sick and lame
The people phone,
I pick them up
No other bus the same.
I drive me bus for Africa
When I'm in Sollihull
I drive me bus for freedom;
me bus in wondeful !
Waverider
Sunset water float
Paddle turn hop up and go
Surfing life freedom
Bmdavey@
02/11/16
An Auld Scottish Matelot on Lockdown in Malta
The Maltese Government says we are not to go oot
A mere doddle to us auld yins who have been aboot
Cod War, Falklands, Gulf War and more
Assume NBCD state 1 condition Zulu Alpha
And shut the Fxxxing DOOR!
Get the crib board out and Uckers TOO
Trouble is her in doors has not a CLUE
I could secretly write my memoirs at NIGHT
But perhaps not as I could be in a lot of legal E
And also how do you explain your runs ASHORE
Down the Gut behind the green DOOR
A Daily Orders printed every DAY
Followed to the letter come what MAY
Call the hands would be FINE
Except being a Greenie I don’t get up till NINE!
With Australian Breakfast she has a MOAN
You have to hop up and get yer OWN
I am mess cooks every day which isn’t FUN
Except She made the roster ONE in ONE!
Still cooking isn’t her TRICK
Thank God for that as my ass would be constantly SICK
At least there is no queue for SCRAN
I have done me bag meals so escaped her fxxxing FRYING PAN
At 1700 she assumes the role of the PTI
My sports gear on and I want to CRY
On the bike for half an hour or MORE
Bloody saddle tortures my ass and I am SORE
“Don’t forget the weights” She calls, “My Dear”!
When all I want is a fxxxing BEER!
She has been knitting quite a lot in the HOOSE?
Seriously worried as it looks like a NOOSE?
Pipe Down is drawing near in the HOOSE
Terrified noo as her knitting reveals a HANGMAN’S NOOSE!
She is also the Ship’s Barber and plans to cut my HAIR
Please, please Lord End this Fxxxing NIGHTMARE!!!!
Heyyy friend, since we always UP to something, I wanna give a tribute to the word UP, because everyday of our life we do something meaningful with the word up.
So with that being said, I wanna know, what’s UP with you?
How many of these UPs did you do today?
hurry up, stand up, start up, write up
raise up, push up, speed up, mark up, fill up
come up, pull up, step up, climb up
drive up, straighten up, cheer up, tear up
rise up, lift up, run up, clean up, buckle up
chin up, pin up, put up, shut up
get up, sit up, hit up, spit up
woke up, broke up, spoke up
boot up, toot up, man up, hand up
chew up, blew up, screw up
walk up, talk up, hype up, type up
dress up, mess up, fold up, hold up
wake up, make up, break up
toss up, boss up, lay up, pay up
look up, hook up, took up, shook up
tighten up, lighten up, wrap up, strap up
save up, gave up, head up, made up
lick up, stick up, pick up
slip up, whip up, rip up, zip up
stock up, lock up, knock up
go up, show up, grow up, throw up, blow up
but never ever slow up
pop up, hop up, mop up, stop up
burn up, turn up, stuck up, luck up, f’k up
heat up, eat up, beat up, feet up
back up, pack up, rack up, jack up, stack up
but never ever slack up
I did a lot of these UPs today, but most importantly, I Stayed up and Prayed up…
Well, my “time UP,” lol
So what’s up? Can you think of any I missed?
Shadow Muse
by Odin Roark
What’s a scrappy old ghost to do
Whose graveyard fantasy
Has long passed?
I wander streets and alleys now
Still a companion to my muse
Who refuses to vanquish her shadow light
Nudging my silhouette endlessly
“There’s more” her seductive urge
We walk
She talks
We remain arms length
Her light betraying my non-existence
Cats screech at my presence
Mongrels sniff this visage
Forlorn and quizzical
They’re used to reality
Not shadows without object
My silhouette take repose each morning
Astride the lions of stone
Ever faithful sentinels
Guarding the library’s entrance
42nd St and 5th Ave play host to many ghosts
But no other whose shadow
Belies ghostliness
That freaks them out
Muse and me are in the library a lot
The stacks my real home/grave
Yeah
Between covers I’m supposedly alive
Words
Phrases
Pages past
Innocent students visit
Unaware we’re watching
Helping lift the burden of the words
Off the page
Into the eyes of curiosity
Maybe into the soul of the future
Midday
We always find a park bench
How I appreciate her honeydew presence
Perfuming my surroundings
The memories naked with
Torch song sonnets
Melodies my own
Invaders long ago exiled
My specter feeds the pigeons
No concern where the food comes from
They bob at the bench
Hop up on the shaded slats
Coo a tune about no real food
Fly off
Another reminder of imagination’s maybe
Wonderful what your mind can do
When it projects out of this world
Into another today
Yesterday
Hopefully one more tomorrow
You look at me confused,
haunches poised to
leap upon my lap.
Eager to slobber my face
with kisses, and for
your ears to be scratched.
I stop you, arm extended,
with a strongly articulated, “No!”
Initially, you look confused,
then hurt wondering
what wrong you have committed.
I smile, and pet your head,
my smile conveying, “It’s alright.
Not yet, but soon.”
You turn, and hop up
on the leather couch,
turning three times,
and plop into the nest
you created, and, sigh.
© 2019, The Book Of Ruth, Robert Charles Wagner. All rights reserved.
When I look in the mirror, the face of a lion I see,
Although I am only a kitten who lives in a house.
I catch myself daydreaming about what I could be,
Running fast and hard at a zebra, instead of a mouse.
I spend my days alone: I primp, I play, I sleep,
Desperately waiting for my owner to arrive.
As the door slowly opens, I’m still in a heap,
Hoping it’s her, back from that dreadful 9 to 5.
She enters the house, and quietly calls my name.
When I hear her voice, I know it’s safe to come out.
As I run to meet her, the routine is the same:
Over the couch, under the table, my usual route.
After dinner is done, and we’ve had our fill,
She sits in her favorite chair and I hop up in her lap.
I purr as she softly pets me, and slowly lose the will
To stay awake as she reads, so I take a short nap.
When she finishes her book, and turns to go to bed,
I realize that the face in the mirror of a lion – a king,
Is just a reflection of who I am inside my head.
Although I am only a kitten, I have all…everything.