Honked Poems

Running Away From Home

I am running away the four-year-old told his parents.
Take some clothes, his father urged him.
Better take your piggy bank, said his sister.
Would you like a sandwich? Asked his mother.

He said he did not need any of that stuff.
He was only taking one thing, his puppy, Ralph.
Ralph happily followed him to the gate.
Where they sat for a bit, staring at the neighbors.

If they went to the left, there was a loud barking dog.
The people living to the right had a mean cat.
A car honked and their neighbor waved at them.
The four-year-old asked, “had enough?” and they returned home.

Who's Behind the Door?

The quiet words, the trembling lips,
we’ve heard it all before.
Keen questions dwell within our minds,
like who’s behind the door.

We saw the lights, heard voiceless words,
asked, “Is there any more?”
The speaking’s frail and actions flail,
but who’s behind the door?

The Wizard drew his curtain and 
he fooled the land of Oz.
But when the curtain opened up
they saw just who he was.

He turned the wheel, he honked the horn
he put on such a show	 
The room was filled with smoky light
and braggadocio

As cultures clash and leaders stall,
great fearfulness prevails.
When people feel they’ve been left out,  	
then lo, their system fails.			

All people want to feel secure. 
They want their qualms allayed.     
As leaders walk on shells of eggs,
the folks feel sore afraid.

We feel compelled; we have to know,
real answers, we implore.
Please tell the truth and let us know,
Who’s that behind the door?

On the Road To Somewhere

Fiona and her pup Scar decided to go on an adventure
They hit the Pacific Highway at four in the morning on Tuesday
There is nothing like the open road! Fiona sang to Scar.
Scar was happy, there were doggie treats in his sidecar.

Many people honked and waved as they journeyed.
They ran out of ocean soon enough, but saw other things.
Dusty dirty tumbleweeds blew into them in Wyoming.
No worries, Fiona told Scar. Things will get better.

Scar was not worried. He had a new t-bone now.
Thanks to the generosity of the cook at the truck stop.
“We are on the road to somewhere!” Fiona sang.
They were steering through Nebraska now.

It was the tornado season, so they might have to lie in a ditch.
Scar did not care. He has his bone, and he had his memories.
He loved traveling “the road to somewhere”.
It was his favorite thing to do in the summer time.

Drowning In Indecision

no true destiny
just anywhere else
penned the sign
backpack will travel

cars honked
many smiles
some waved
I felt like I was drowning

perhaps in a sea of indecision?

Tatters

His clothes were tattered, in vivid shades of red blue & yellow
he wore leatherette shoes blackly polished and gleaming with shine
Red fiery hair that  summoned like a fire hydrant and a big fat rubber nose that honked when it was squeezed. 
He had a polka dotted hanky that protruded from his well padded suit,  
and a kangaroo pocket in which he kept all his most precious belongings.   
Aside from the fact that those big blue eyes of his were undeniably sad, 
every part of his retinue screamed, "I am funny, I can make you laugh"
People came to the circus to watch his goofy antics and  
to forget their worries for a little while.  One day while he was blowing up balloons for the children, he died of a massive heart attack.
In heaven the angels took Tatters to the children's room.  Sitting on a big shiny 
red stool he was asked to make balloons for every child in God's creative nest.   
His eyes were never sad again for he knew that here,   
he could make a child smile and never grow old, or ever be sad again.  

The End.

Block Seats For Broken Homes

A perimeter with firm block seats 
For teenagers patrolling the streets; 
More needed to strengthen their gossips;
Jokes about Dads who wash plates in ships!

Seat blocks for kids from the Broken Home.
They might on them lie: consoling foam, 
Dream of saving marriage blessed in Rome: 
Their lost umbrella, Uprooted Dome…

But on this not a concentration 
Of honked horns in ears penetration

Some of  them flutists’ composition, 
One or two ghostly exposition 
Stating a warming disposition.

A driver’s wish you watch rolling tyres 
So you don’t meet stretcher Risk hires!

Meeting a 1947 Cadillac Named Claire

No one knew what kind of car she was because she was an antique.
She had a mind of her own, a colorful one at that, and she ran.
She lived in a small Alaskan town, so people knew about her.
That’s Claire, an old timer told me when he saw me taking her photo.

She has a name? Sure, he replied, “They all have names, don’t they?”
All cars have names?
No. All spirits have names.
You mean she is a spirit and a car?

We never think of Claire as a car, but we always think of her as a spirit.
When I left the state, she followed me to the edge and then honked goodbye.
No one believed me, because she had no driver.
But I have never forgotten Claire.

Whispers of Immortality

He could paint the air and draw the winds.
Of course that brief eulogy
was only spoken after his demise;
while alive he was often considered a clod and a bore.
Foreseeing no such post-mortem fame
he kept writing on water
knowing that there was an archive of his works
in an after-life waiting to be discovered
by his wandering soul.
In the meantime, ducks quacked, geese honked
and the little birds in his still beating heart
twittered on.

Miss Pitty Patter

****

      Her name is Miss Pitty Patter.
      She's the concrete goose outside. 
      She's quite a fashion statement.
      as she adorn the stoop with pride

      Although she doesn't say anything,
      She greets you with a smile.
      She's quite the talk of the neighborhood.
      as she sports the latest styles.

      The other day, a flock of geese flew by.
      One dropped into say hello
      He honked and fluffed his feathers,
      "Howdy there! little lady, My name is Joe."
.
      "Honk"--"Shall we go for a walk?"
      "Honk"-- "I really like your style."
       Miss Pitty, Let's sit down and we'll talk.
       He did a little dance, and she gave him a smile.

      Miss Pitty, "You are quite a handsome looker,
      But your heart is made of stone. "
      "I believe this relationship is over,"
      as he flew off all alone.

       Miss Pitty Patter frowned.



      
                      Written  11-10-21

I Had a Dream

I had a dream, a pleasant dream,
A dream in which was only peace… 
No wars, no hate, no crime, no tears,
Only peace each day for men.  

All evil ways were cast away
And only good deeds did man do.
No one went hungry, all were filled
With good fresh food each man grew.

Then came a time… I had to go…
Return to living life for real.
So, I awoke to singing birds
And two men outside fighting.

Some harbor ships were blaring roars,
Off-loading, loading at their docks
And morning traffic beeped and honked.
I said to me…“Welcome home”

W.C.Hull © 2020-27-5-WCH10

Geese

a gaggle of geese, Parades on by
Under a morning sun
They make no sound as they amble by
nor feel a need to run
"Why don't you fly?!" I yell
angry about their pace
"When you can ride the winds on high,
this gift you truly waste"

Then to me one fowl replied
As if my query did offend
"Because we can!" he honked
At least it felt as though he did
"Why do you go back to work?
When there are adventures to be planned
You could even join us
Save your factory needing manned"

And with that they left
Just as quickly as they had come
And alone with my thoughts
Feeling slightly succumbed 
"It's true!" I said out loud 
I hadn't realized all this time
It was really me who chose to walk
When I should have learned to fly

Touching the Heart of the Heartless

I wonder what it means to save
Or what it means to be saved
I watched the sun set over frosted mountaintops
Munching on a candy cane 
I was just a small boy back then
Without looking I walked out into the street
And a car honked and the lights swarmed
Before my boyish eyes as large as dinner plates
That should have been my swan song act
But a gentle soul saved me from oblivion
By pulling me back on to the sidewalk
He was dressed in the tatters of clothes
With a scruffy white beard he might have looked weird
But there was a warmth in his smile
That touched hot chocolate eyes
Eyes that were dormant for so long
Now more alive than ever before
Perhaps more alive than before the war
Before the youth was sucked from his soul
He sat me down on a stair step
And he gave me a Star Crunch
Asking where my parents were
And he spent his last coins on a payphone
Calling my parents to pick me up
And get me out of the chill
And while I sat there then I didn't know it
But I touched the heart of the heartless
And he knew what it meant to save
And also what it meant to be saved

Craziest Time At a Friend's House

I was over at a friend's house 
to watch the superbowl 
with three other friends 2 years ago

Mid-game, he started telling us
about the weirdest dream he ever had
where he jogging on the sidewalk, 
one evening, homebound, 
when a passing car 
honked and pulled up to him.

The driver of the car 
asked him for the nearest gas station. 
After kindly giving the man directions,
it turns out the driver wanted 
something else from my friend; 
the watch he was wearing.

The man stuck a gun out of the driver window
and yelled "Give up your watch!"
After the watch was thrown into the car, 
the driver sped off. 

That's the thanks he gets? 

Very funny when the story takes place
in a dream. He had us laughing 
uncontrollably
Not funny at all; not remotely
a laughing matter
had it not been a dream!


Craziest Time At The Poetry Contest 
Sponsored by: Caren Krutsinger 
Date written: 08/04/2020

I Had a Dream

I had a dream, a pleasant dream,
A dream in which was only peace… 
No wars, no hate, no crime, no tears,
Only peace each day for men.  

All evil ways were cast away
And only good deeds did man do.
No one went hungry, all were filled
With good fresh food each man grew.

Then came a time… I had to go…
Return to living life for real.
So, I awoke to singing birds
And two men outside fighting.

Some harbor ships were blaring roars,
Off loading, loading at their docks
And morning traffic beeped and honked.
I said to me…“Welcome home!”

W.C.Hull © 2020-WCH10-WCH1-10   PPS
W.C.Hull © 2020-H1438-2548-I52-K52-16-L59-16

Witchy Patty

Witchy Patty’s bulbous nose smelled smoked toad and horse livers.
Anticipating their sweet taste gave her the salivating quivers.
If they had bat’s tongue and owl’s beak she knew she’d get the shivers.
This insanely tasty fragrance was wafting up the entire length of Six Rivers.

As she flew her broom over the woods she got a quick peep
Of her craziest most unrelated cousins riding red and brown sheep.
She got so excited she gave a giant whoop and a giant airborne leap,
Falling off her broomstick, and landing next to them in a crumpled heap.

Her cousins raced toward her cackling; it was hilarious at first.
One of them honked her by her nose; another stole her pink clasped purse.
Little LuLu Witch was the first to finally begin hollering for an ER nurse.
They had actually filed Witchy Patty’s death. Frankly, there is nothing worse.

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