Hollers Poems | Examples

my nephew

my nephew 

Twinkle twinkle little star, I see what a wonder you are 
Laughs and cries, screams and hollers  
Oh what a scholar, you are 
I see the sea in your eyes 
That once were mine. 
Sail through and wide 
For you, and your heart 
You are great things, keep that mind.  
For you, the world is yours 
And you are mine. 
For you all is kind.

Silent No More

 Clouds dim from a fevered night
bare as  skin of dragonflies trapped,
and she paces along tattered leaves strewn
on barbed fences of life moaning
through a distant breeze:  yet the candle
burns inside her heart to feed
dire hunger of jailed souls....

There,this bruised woman circles around
in a furnace of hope...on a barren lane
where mangled sparrows cry in despise;
and the will to plod an inner odyssey rages,
searching for some need
to fill breaths of peace not only for herself
but for a biting desire to give women 
and children a voice  which honors plain dignity
violated and  spit by vulgar words, alcohol, 
shattered glass...enough!
her own pain hollers from the marrow,

 the kind that flames the heavens and rain.

The Missing Collar

The sun does arise, 
On the valley sweet, 
The birds & pups wise, 
Call our kits to meet. 
The hoots & hollers, 
Sound loud for miles;
Yet! Amiss is one collar, 
Lone in the Sky Isles. 

The sun does down, 
On the green hills tired, 
Lining the vale round, 
Our pets to bed retired. 
The whistles & purrs, 
Chime in the crisp wind.
All but one bed stirs;
Our dear numbers thinned. 

Long time does pass, 
Bleak winter does come,
Hoar-frost is the grass, 
Warmed by a low hum. 
We stand together,
Upon valleys sharp, 
Wond’ring: ‘just whether, 
You’re hearing, fain, the sky harp.’

a regular day

A regular day 

We read, with amusement, that Facebook is set free
Mark, our erstwhile friend, has seen the light
Not spending money on fast-checkers, more kudos to him 
Is he sincere
For now, this is of scant interest, the wind blows hard, rattles the window, and demands to be let inside. 
Hollers, you were glad for the summer breeze
So, what is wrong now
How do explain, to the wind it is a matter of knowing when the climate for change is right?
The wind is not willing to give up, asks what about
X, a rude and opinionated site; well, you see 
The world fears economic power can strike like Typhon and flood our land.
A French shrug to that thinks an opinion is free
For all words are like the wind blows today, but
Will be quiet comes next day

It Cannot Be Helped

You want for the crawls and climbs,
sublimes and lemons.

Let the kid run, helplessly,
so he or she strives
for the unreachable star.

“Stop growing!” a mother hollers.
A father has their bags packed.

Shikata Ga Nai, the wise say.

Mother must cry when separated
by the wibble-wabble of time.

Dad must harumph over remnants,
tricycles and toys in garage and attics,
shed tears behind dry eyes.

Most children fall
into another’s arms
and mother must cry.

Shikata Ga Nai cannot be denied.

The silence of empty nest and eventual death.
The middle years of hugs from kids of kids.

Kids calling through the ether,
wondering why their kid must keep growing taller.

You want to tell the secret, but must hint
at the eventuality -
reality it seems,

Shikata Ga Nai -
don’t deny the truth.

Shikata Ga Nai - It cannot be helped.

BING THE TURTLE

Bing the turtle was taking a
Slow walk, until he was 
Encountered by a hungry jaguar
Who was ready to eat and kill
So, he knocks the lil turtle
Around and around
He even knocks him 
Up-side down
He flipped the turtle over
And over again and then
Tosses him from side to side but
The lil turtle finally had enough
When the jaguar sticks his
Nose in the turtle’s shell
Bing grabs it and holds on tight
The jaguar hollers in pain
Then takes off running while
Shaking his head trying to
Release the turtle’s grip
But the turtle holds on until 
The cat gives up, then he
Let’s go and the jaguar runs away
With his tail tuck between his legs

six foot rat snake inside my office

was skipping through my bathroom one day
about to land in my office, when an inner voice yelled hey!
Turn on the light first, which I had never done, but did it this time.
Saw a six foot black rat snake, stopped my bare feet just in time.

If I had landed on the snake, he would have no doubt taken a bite.
Rat snakes are not poisonous but being bitten is not a delight.
I have been bitten by a snake once before.
I shuddered at having this creature in my house; shut the bathroom door.

cost of snake-remover eradicating this creature is five hundred dollars.
An exterminator came out, then we heard his hollers.

The Little Cast Away

Too hot too hot yells the boy then he shouts      
with four little waifs on the run he has clout 
they jerk him around 
by a swimming ground 
poor little guy soaked and wet, like a trout   

Too hot too hot he cries as he dips his head 
still as a stalk they mistake him for dead 
they yank at his shirt  
four brats and a squirt  
he stands there all wet in his soppy red Keds 

Stop it stop it he hollers then he begins to run 
with heart pumping joy he heads for the sun
its a fun loving day   
for this small cast away 
too hot too hot he shrieks but he doesn't shun.

LIONESS

There was a time when I was meek

tears streaming down with effortless ease 

Amidst the hollers, the taunts, the cries

The tears would flow like autumn leaves

But the hunted has turned hallowed

I rise with a lion’s might

Gone are the days of silent shadows

I am a roar in the heart of the night

With the poise of the jungle’s regal beast

I roar with valor, my spirit unleashed

With hollering, bullying, and screaming, the tears didn’t miss me

The ones who were once preyed upon are now the ones being prayed upon

Now, I stand boldly, ready to unleash 

A powerful roar that resonates with you as a lion’s feast

In the days of yesteryear, I existed merely as a whisper in the wind

Tears would fall at the slightest bend 

Now, I stride with the fierce grace of a lion

With a roar of courage, I boldly claim the capacity in Mount Zion

a hot day and a smelter

A hot day and a smelter

Is it in Qatar, or in Dubai a friendly aluminum 
smelter for sale, the one in the picture on a TV add
looks ok
Now that my wife is on holiday with her aunt I cruse
on the TV, but this is the first time I have come across 
a smelter of aluminum 
I buy food at the deli and warm it at home, taste
remarkable like my wife's cooking, not that I have seen
her peeled potatoes.
She hollers, come and get it and slams the cooking
lids together
I have had many cars, old ones, mainly because 
I can't afford the taxi fare, I have no money to
buy a new car.
Aluminum smelter!
Wouldn't that be amazing?
I met a man in a bar who said he was a retired poet
spent his time writing slogans on walls
I told him about the affable smelter in Dubai 
the retired poet looked out of the window 
picked up his notebook and took no interest
in my smelter
He had seen a donkey with a straw hat and 
regretted his retirement

There’s a Change a Coming

Last night, my mind started wandering around the hills and hollers of the olden days again. That is not unusual as the older I get, the more time I seem to spend there. Sometimes I wonder if it’s old age that keeps sending me back to those carefree yesterdays or is it my attempt to escape the craziness that has seemed to take over the world today. But that’s another story for another time. Anyway, the last couple of days my arthritis has been acting up. As I sat there in the rocker, fidgeting from one side of my butt to the other, trying to find that sweet spot that would give me the most comfort. I suddenly had a flash from the past. I remember how Mom used to always say how she could feel a change coming in the weather. She’d say she could feel it in her bones. I used to always laugh at her the same way my grandkids now laugh at me. I guess I can officially say that I have become my mother… and I have to say, there ain’t nothing wrong with that.

                                      When I was a child
                                didn’t want to be like them—
                                      But yet here I am

You Can Sure Tell it is Halloween

It’s a hippo!
It’s a flying boy!
It’s a teen!
Someone hollers with joy.

It’s smartly dressed.
It is so well groomed!
It is flying high.
Without a plane or broom.

You can sure tell it is Halloween
Yelled the Jack-o-lantern and pumpkin queen.

Ocean Fog

The ocean fog spreads,
An opaque, eerie veil.
It wraps the town in mystery,
And murmurs secrets to the gale.

The sea crashes on the shore,
Rumbling a detached sound.
The foghorn hollers somberly,
As the hazy clouds surround.

The seagulls fly effortlessly 
Showing the mastery over the blur.
They float in the foggy air
And disappear in motionless hover.

The blanket of the ocean fog,
An elongated, powerful silence.
It lingers in the mind's eye,
And fires a poetical movement.

Pioneering

Rolling clouds over rolling hills.
Kentucky is winding it roads out in endless curves.
No hurry,
this journey drives me
through its curling landscape
as a self-reading picture book of racial memories.

Born in a far way place, I feel rooted now
to these unfolding boonies and hollers,
backwoods and backroad, places
that speak to my very bones.

A small town ahead, a clapperboard store
a gas station and a 7-11. Despite being modern
they have that tumbledown structure
that is native to these rural backwaters.
The shanty tilt of well-worn porches,
dusty front yards flagged with
the fading banners of old glory.

The sun will be going down soon,
I'm driving slow, meandering into a history
I recognize as my own.

The fields are threaded with deer
as evening paints the gleaming creeks gold.
I'm told
that perfection is a pocketsize piece of scenery
no one has discovered yet,
a place just right, one just now
appearing as my memorable soul.

The Road I Drive

It is simple and plain
A few potholes along the way
It is West Virginia that’s to be expected 
It is a road just like any other 
Divided into two lanes

One way takes me away
For work
For daily life occurrences
For a weekend getaway 

I know this road well
I drive it every day
I know it bends 
I know its dips
I know where I want to pretend it is a race track

There are days when I forget I am driving 
and end safely at my destination anyway
Up hills 
Down hollers
In-between the mountains 
Is the road I drive 
And it will always bring me back home 
No matter where it takes me

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