Best Hyphens Poems
Morning is a question mark –
Serenity or drama?
Afternoon’s a semi-colon,
Period or comma.
If the day’s routine,
You’d list its parts behind a colon:
Ordinary expectations
Keep those hours rollin’.
Hyphens give one pause, though things
May not be out of joint.
What you must be careful of’s
The exclamation point.
For this little bugger
May show anger, joy or fear.
Many people would prefer
It never would appear.
Punctuation rules the day
And shows us what we’ve got.
Nighttime comes and then we’re left
With dot and dot and dot…
Buoyant on the North west winds;
Shredded clouds expose a half moon eye.
An eye that stares cautiously at
The hyphens of cars below.
Stratus sunsets trace the highway,
That leads to my refuge,
and shields me from the voyeur and the oncoming night.
I sit upright against unforgiving vinyl,
on the back of a bus that rebounds daily,
between New York City and my nightly abode.
I watch the cirrus race the Greyhound
and the Mustangs running in packs of three.
A spyglass has formed within a white nimbus,
an oval window into the crowded heavens.
The clotheslines of the Gods turn to skyrockets,
Shooting masterful projections upward,
Now, composed as arrows that hasten
An antelopes final good night.
Clouds drift away without shadow or fault.
The clouds, the clouds
I alone with my burden,
Where do they go?
Cant lift my eyes beyond half past seven anymore
Nay! I do not wish to see...
Past hyphens and inverted commas
Lies and more catastrophe
Ambidextrous clock with appalling brevity
The second hand throws away society
Caught on the hook of an apostrophe
Hit and run humanity
With what shall I beseech thee?
Amix with soot and grime am I today
I painted me....! I mascara'd me!
Not this... warpaint for smudges
A discard of society
Sunk in dank mediocrity
Left to dream on the periphery
Sacked and sold with all their niceties
And pensioned off into obscurity
Cascading through the fingers of our hands
Groans the running Namib sands
Camel plods along ignoring facts
Dali's clock is molten wax - a mystery
Certain as Terrabyte and Megabitten memory
Omits to call- forgets to visit me
Hey DADDY run as-fast-as-you can
You oughta-see-my-mama-oh-man
She dancin to a radio show
And bein kinda naughty-you-know
Never seen her actin this-way-before
Look she shufflin out-all-over-the-floor
It's a song that I ain-never-heard
And she just-said-one-of-them-ugly-words
Take me back to my radio days
Take me back to the simple old ways
Far away from the smoke and the haze
Take me back to my radio days
She shoutin "SING to-me-Rock & Roll-man
I could eat you right up-where-you-stand"
But she just-now-got-thru-eatin-her-lunch
Why she still wanting something-to-munch?
See I TOLD you, hey-what-is-this-pop?
Why you spinning her around like a top?
You-made-my-mama's-garter-belt show
And how the heck did your zipper-just-grow?
Take me back to my radio days
Take me back to the simple old ways
Far away from the smoke and the haze
Take me back to my radio days
One-mo-time-now-1,2,1-2-3...
*Hyphens inserted for rhythm purposes or how I heard it in my head
Apparently Soup finds the Latin word for ‘Human’ offensive;
about as ‘P.C. gone wrong’ as it’s possible to get. I have had to
include completely superfluous hyphens in order to get the word
accepted.
__________________________________
Our home in the stars so often ransacked
Homo-destructus had forced us to act
So quick to breed
Killed - not to feed
Our ancient ancestors counter-attacked
All rounded up for a new rebirth
Transported far to a fertile Earth
A gauntlet they ran -
- Neanderthal man
Homo-destructus; victor or serf?
That was a million Earth years ago
Call us inquisitive, we need to know
A long stellar trek
In order to check
What occurs when you let primitives go
Five light years travelled to view their progress
Earth is an angry and war tangled mess
Our crew now lay savaged
Our ship also ravaged
Homo-destructus sees no welcome guest
That primeval race that we once left to swarm
With clubs and flint axes their weaponry norm
Strangely ironic
They’re now atomic
And Homo-destructus remains true to form
We lie
in each other’s arms
as
I run my fingers
through my lover’s lush locks
of hair
In plush leisure we roll
with abandon
on the floor -
in tune with each other’s
bodies
rocking into the night -
carpet burn
likely
June 4, 2020
Chose word #1: Carpet
41(?) words for nette onclaud's 'SOME KIND OF SENSUAL' Contest
By the way, Wordcounter says 43 words, but if I remove my 2 hyphens, it DOES say 41 then!
Back in roman times I was called a stylus
I wrote messages and stories on papyrus Writing since Before Christ,
Don't matter what the time is
Even wrote for the great poets known as the vikings
I translated Roman-to-English with just hyphens
I can go back and forth on the timeline
Used by the dude who even wrote "Mein Kampf"
But before that used for maps to draw islands
I even wrote that rap and I screamed "BYE STAN!!"
I've seen everybody’s diaries, but I don't speak
I write the dreams they have seen, it's punishing...
I'm their best friend at quiet times
For poets,and rappers that write rhymes
Or artists, that compose the lights eyes
Oops I mean the end of night, it's the "sunrise"
I cry when they draw their mental picture
I miss it easy, like the ancient Egyptian scriptures
Last week I wrote a broken heartfelt letter of a boys dead sister
His tears made me smear, smudge and bitter as well
I mean i'm supposed to be emotionless, but this feels like hell
I guess literature is the only way I help
This is how I'd explain it, if someone asked how I felt
I'm literally consumed in everybody’s literacy
Different languages, but I still know their history....
I’m the victim see, every word written composes verbal imagery
Even carved Mozarts spirit in every symphony
I take everyones thoughts and write it down lyrically
Have you solved my mystery? I need some sympathy
One second i’m drawing so skillfully, then destroying paper so viciously
So if you’re crazy just like me, take my spot and fight off this infantry
Then you will see, all these sad letters of these casualties
Of when France defended against the great Italy
I’ll riddle more, I was even there when the bible was born
I was even used for the art of the Tribal of course
I even wrote of the tale of the Trojan horse
I even seen the great GRA fight
GRA meaning arts and culture
I’m running out of graphite.
Some days are diamonds, some days are diamonds
Hey wait! Somethings wrong, each man is an island
What's good for some
Some fall on their bum
For me, it's diamonds, no ifs, ands, or hyphens
© Jack Ellison 2015
(Hyphens? Well it sorta rhymes doesn't it!!!)
FISH TO FISHES
They changed the "many fish," it is now called the "fishes"?
As in more than "one wish" for our dreams, as in "wishes."
In the apple half cut to halves, that we have to have,
Or one foot, to many feet, and calf to many calves.
No hyphen in Email and gone from Walmart?
This rule was to make the two words stand apart.
The words with hyphens we've learned and we know,
they may join or part, in this Word-Art-Nouveau.
Where to put a period or comma whilst in a quote?
Do we put them inside or outside, do take a note.
The British go outside and the Americans go in,
The rules seem arbitrary and get under your skin.
Then there are Homophones that we have to spell?
They can sound the same but our ear cannot tell.
Two too to, and flew, flu, flue, what shall we do?
Memorize, look it up, it's madly askew.
Ain't hour English easy to speak and two right?
The essay chore will keep won up half the knight.
Adding Latin and Greek, and French so to speak,
Every language applied, they finally tweak.
By Edlynn Nau
© February 11, 2016
A Buddha moon bellies upon the clouds
And with the staccato echo of heels on concrete
I hurry to my window, for it was the sound
of when once you came home
In that time when I knew love by your name.
The street below, patterned in the circles of street lamps
With glistening puddles from the afternoon rain
Speaks of emptiness except for one figure
Walking slowly, face down, hands shoved into raincoat pockets
Frantically I lift the stubborn window and call, “Annette!”
She pauses, marvelously captured in light and shadow
And lifts her eyes to my face and smiles
It is not you. It never is. But she smiles as if knowing
My thoughts and torments. She smiles and shrugs
And walks on but with paces telling that she is like me
And has nowhere to go except into yesterdays
When all the wonders were born that now
Slowly die within us, for nothing is as cold as sorrow.
And I retreat into myself and pen the false idols of words
As if syllables were serums and hyphens were hope
Literalness Of The Prairie
Those that cannot remember the past -
are often run over by it for nothing lasts.
The truck may
Be driven
By a unicorn.
Even ignorance
on some day will lapses.
There is always a dead Greek philosopher
to tell you the river
you soak your feet in
is always different.
As a honey badger
Finds His way
Inside The refrigerator
Where you let
Your images cool.
Link sausage chants within the pan
The lines of kings
The dream
Was sleek
A machine
That spilled
Poems
On the mercats
Below in the footnotes
Reconstruct the lines
& scurry like the edge
of self-fulfilling prophecies.
Just storms of mercy forms
damp hyphens
& ampersands
combine the trouble couplets
And beat of stanzas over Kansas
& Find their way back-
From the literalness of the prairie
Time spells
out a harsh
reflection,
sometimes.
Lifeless, pale...
holes under your-
knees... on your ankles,
up and down your arms.
Hate fills him now, oh, his-
rage, my Brother Ronnie,
says,
"It isn't so!"
Dad, He knows.
I have no real-
memories of-
you, your-
eyes, no-
pictures,
even how-
you moved,
nothing of-
your character,
smell, touch, voice,
(((((((warmth.)))))))
But yes I hold on to them,
they are relevant,
I know-they-are-still-there.
They move me today,
arriving now,
from underneath, the-
void, numbness,
pain... .
I see them,
as-my-
frustration,
tears,
when,
they-come... .
Mama I ache... .
Yes I carry-
all of it, my Brothers-
same hate, for this, and-
this hope...
you-are-there in Heaven,
God... holding you. Mama,
I miss-you... !
Why-did-heroin, have-
to-take-you... ?
Author notes
I love you Mama. Hell of a way to go. You came home from where you had been,
put the garage door down, did the stuff, forgot to turn the car off.
I miss you.
The video has the words that I feel represent what I have done up to this point in my
life. And what I would want. Still, want. They were playing in the background on my-
computer while writing this.
My Mother understands them, as do I, now. Thank you for reading.
Hyphens are used in conjunction with one-another for
-recording purposes-for the disabled.
Select Poem to Enter in the Your "Saddest"
Christmas Ever Poetry Contest
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poems_by_poet.aspx?ID=10386
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wwCykGDEp7M&ob=av2n
~ Poet ~ 10386 ~ James Lee Long ~
How will you measure the wide
gulf between words and hyphens ?
The apostrophes will give you
restrain and isolation.
The predators will sit and
wait for the fallouts. The night
was your domain to start
sinning; in erasing the numbers.
The midnight grief during the
assault of moon. Were you ready
to unmask the hidden inter-
polator ? The merciless thrush ?
Candidiasis ? It was eating
away your smell, your taste
and moments of glimpses
of the fire in the groins.
Satish Verma
Silence
Light is speech. the mind
an enchanting thing
picking and choosing.
Our past becomes present
consequences.
Modesty may,might nay must
overcome envy.
Retreat propriety,
rescued by the disposition of angels
in pedantic literalism.
A distrust of merits, style &connoisseurs.
prisnmatic colours,hyphens &lines.
Nonchalance,in lieu
efforts of affection ,interacting with
apparations of splendour.
Sleep
Inspired by the works of Marianne Moore
Are you ready for the main course?
Prepare the condiments
Thin oven mitts
Teas cozies
Lace doilies
It's just a decoy
Here lies the kid who was left home alone while is parents visited The North
Pole
Try to consolidate the front door
And here's a laxative called LSD to aide your constipated mind
Now go on with the insurrection
And fight Parliament for the sake of the proletariat
Who's names are always written in lower case lettering
The limousine drivers
The skrimpers
The savers
The single mothers with bad habits who have to dance off skimpy clothing to
buy formula for their babies because they're milk is tainted with junk
The weary recipients of justice obstructions
And catch 22's
Who have been singled out because they have monetary deficits
Console them
Until Eureka!
Grab some Q-tips and clean out your ears
Stop gritting and grinding your teeth
A new realization is in bloom
When did be aware turn into beware?
When did alertness become fear?
Forget and get over your
Remanding-accursed-sweet-tooth-fatigue-that you let in
Because it's all in your head along with the idea that hyphens make things look
more important and scary
I contest all that ********