Memories
I remember the coal fire
Crackling and flickering
Toasting bread as well as feet
I remember the steam Train
Huffing and puffing
Steam and smoke engulfing us all
I remember music, the Mersey beat
Beatles and The yellow submarine
Hipsters and Bell-bottoms
I remember it all
Memories of Music
Memories of fun
Memories of Life now long gone
Juss two “Angelheaded hipsters”
Dancin’ jazz riffs in da ring,
Teachin’ Liston, teachin’ Rexroth,
Teachin’ Dylan how to sing.
Dey be baaad poets.
Used to make da critics howl,
Den pick da round dey gonna fall.
Smoked da pot to call da kettle
An example to us all.
Dey be baaad poets.
So juss where do baaadness come from?
Who done train dem how to be?
Some say William Carlos Williams.
Some say Angelo Dundee.
Dey be baaad poets.
HUT
Selling poetry without rhyme,
without foot or head
to be able to buy
a hut in
the moon ...
PASTRY
I sell 3 leather belts
of cloth still possible
to be used ...
2 half-shaved sneakers,
hipsters on the sole but
you can apply super bond ...
Several pirate street vendor DVD
a little scratched ...!
It is so you can buy
Fair Pastel...
SHIRT
Selling a punctured ball,
but you can put a super glue
I sell alfalfa ice cream
for your horse ...
I am selling a flag
tattered, but still useful
to demonstrate parade ...
I desire to buy with sales,
a striped lash shirt I saw
at the thrift store ..
As the Dime Store sirens flared
bolts of irradiated invite,
my query was denied.
Their pimp-striped pilots only moaned,
their lust fueled by encapsulated
stench carried only by toothless carnies
from the canyons. Canyons o’ Crazed Confliction.
And behind… the dull dynamo hum.
I screamed for the Kelp Queen to come to me,
her tresses woven wave-like in the wabe.
My demands were simple.
The scars of the trucker's she must carry
(as war carries death)
for inbreeding has tainted her line.
“Can Omaha be far?” she pleaded
and tugged at my inter-ache
as tin balloons tug with time .
“For you?” I replied in a
flatulent belch.
The boiling madness was by now
beyond the horizon but kept in check
still by the neon dogs crouching by day under the interchange.
It is they who will now stalk the disease plagued ports
I sailed from so many
days
and
images
ago.
Until her kleptic crew of vagrants and priests
sprint with me in postpartum harmony.
Hipsters for TRUTH.
Zeitgeist
Moon rock
Media magnets
Overlords
Underlords
Kings
Queens
Yee of means
Purveyors of wealth
Bankers
Oligarchy
Politicians
Celebrities
Hipsters
Fashionista
Dictator
Police
Army
Giant's of industry
Order
Order
Documentary
Meaning
Dancing in a clown mask
(Being a song for misanthropes, or people who have just had a really bad day.)
I hate the world and everyone in it,
I hate the world and everyone here,
I hate the world and everyone in it,
I hate, yes, I hate the world.
I hate the world and the busy-bodies,
I hate their words, they’re so full of crap,
nothing but sound with no wisdom in it,
I’ve hear more than enough crap.
I hate the world and all the dang hipsters,
pretentious bands and unruly beards,
I hate those fools downing in irony,
and I really hate their beer.
I hate the world and its politicians,
lying scum-bags, power-hungry gits,
they do nothing but get in a man’s way,
I’m so tired of their sh-t.
I hate the world and all the damn hippies,
socialist fools detached from the world,
say they want peace but kill if they’re questioned,
their smell make me wanna hurl.
I hate the world and those dumb professors,
in their tower they can’t see how things are,
turning our kids to socialist zombies,
doomed to not go very far.
Ugh…what a world, am I right?
Hey, wait—here comes my German Shepherd!
I love the world and all the dogs in it…
No way, not me, this isn’t my thing,
This pub just isn’t my game,
This pub where vintage is modern as hell,
Where everyone’s beard is the same,
And the price of a lager is out of the world,
An ale costs a fortune or more,
It’s ridiculous hanging a bike from the roof,
Well, those were my thoughts before,
I tasted a stout, a bottled homebrew,
The ride grabbed onto my soul,
And I knew in a moment, behind all the flare,
I’d found my new watering hole,
So now, every day, out the back, on the couch,
Beside the fire pit by the tree,
About quarter past five, with a stout in his hand,
The bearded guy that you see will be me.
Criticizing politicians
is oh-so-hip to do
'Till it comes time to vote --
a bother most hipsters eschew
Hipsters say that flowers have power
Not the power of force against force
Their vision is of a peaceful world
Where the people make love not war
Softness is flowers secret weapon
It can defeat the hardness of hate
Even as sprouts they can lift the world
Trying to make it a better place
Flowers when you're born and when you die
They come that you might know its true
No matter the reason they were sent
What they really say is 'I love you'
4/4/2017
When I lay my head to rest
I will only dream of the best
Memes of rare
They are very fair
To my lonely mind.
King Pepe of Green
Welcomes me and Sir Dean
To a teens dream scene.
There are many ornate beans
In this lovely scene
of the Meme Dream.
But soon,King Pepe calls his troops.
The hipsters has stole our soups!
We must find the nonentities and the snoops
They will jump into hoops to save the soups!
Dean is prone so I must find the subgroups
Suddenly,my eyes open to reality
I cry in glee
because you see,
The memes won and gained the key
No the world is not for me.
it's for suburban hitlers
who indulge in protocol wars
and middle class wives
in camaro jeeps.
No the world is not for me
but for trendy young things
and stylish hipsters.
it's for politicians,
who will caress your prejudices into a vote.
or for doctors with dollar sign ethics
and wallet surgeons who sign insurance plans.
or those sad soldiers that fall to their knees before a flag,
who believe killing strangers abroad will set us free.
No the world is not for me.
who shouldn't be let near paper or pen,
not with these grubby hands
and beerbelly eyes.
that spend their days
laying cement and nailing joists
and trying to quench an unstoppable thirst.
Okay, so most of us are either atheists or belong to some kind of religion, even if loosely. The religion likely demands that the convert love and respect the deity, therefore making the great majority of theists eutheists.
With that out of the way, has anyone ever even met a misotheist?
What's the deal with that?
We see the crossfire between christians and Good Prophet Dawkins followers on youtube comment threads, but you just don't hear about misotheists.
They believe in god, but hate and distrust him.
Christian misotheists are aware that they are going to hell under their understanding of the world, yet are resigned to this fate due to their personal moral code not to serve a god they believe is evil.
I don't think there are actually any misotheists. Just hipsters who might answer censuses with it, and list 'domestic partnership' as their marital status.
If there was one, though, I'd like to meet him. That's one badass motherf*cker.
*Footnote: I googled 'misotheist antonym' while writing this.
Written September 11, 2013
Well I was just a boy
Living down in San Fransisco
In the city by the bay
And I wanted more from life
Than my childhood could give
Every time I crossed a bridge
The whole town burned to the ground
And then one day
I met you down by the blood bank
In that sketchy part of town
Where the hipsters turn around
And drugs roam free
Just like you and just like me
Just like how we used to be
You are my archangel
You sing to me, Gabriel
You tell me where to find
The gravel on the street
And you hold me to the ground
When I hear Peter call for me
And the lights rush to the scene
As I lie here in the alley
Sweet dreams of crystal valleys
Waltz deep within my mind
As the canvas fades to black
And the vultures sweep below
Much like falling dominoes
Set in motion by the glo
Welcome to the internet,
Where basic freedoms are embedded into the hard drives.
Where the memes help you through life.
Where Socially Awkward Penguin holds the door open too long, while Socially Awesome Penguin opens it for a lovely girl.
Where Scumbag Steve shows us the scumbag in all of us, and Good Guy Greg shows us our goodness.
The memes may describe the human actions, but not always the human thoughts.
Wordpress and blogger anger people, yet pushes them to protest.
Twitter, allowing little snippets from your brain escape, all in 140 characters or less of course.
Friendster, the hipsters’ domain of range.
Facebook being fought over by teenagers and adults since 2005.
YouTube, the keeper of memories, keeper of pain, keeper of anger, keeper of happiness, keeper of love.
Vevo, the music video enthusiasts’ devil, and God.
Welcome to the internet, It’s just a world fashioned by 0’s and 1’s that seems too real...
Leave your woes behind
In the heart of New Brunswick
Red cup beer games
Walls flashing, people sweating
Bring out the hipsters
Sundried blue jeans with attitude
Dancing around
Like fairies in the wind
Cigarette one cheek
Talking smack bout the system!
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.