Hooters Poems

Ephemeral Network

Written: May 07, 2024

                          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

he peppered peony
petals, poems ...
                        past my path

scattered starlight, songs,
moonstones …
                        spaning my spine

friendship fell
                        in felicity.

hush the bee hum in
my hooters were hazel

Begonias bloom
                  bound

silent songs
strum my sternum

funneled fairly
fetching forward!
 
                  fettered

                  gramophone of love

they've ruined everything

Fantastic firms aka looters
Make polymers and are polluters
Their products break down
Spread all over town
They even serve plastic at Hooters

Old Belfast

OLD BELFAST

No hooters belch and screech in the mornings anymore
Industry has disappeared from the City’s working core
The Factories have all closed their gates a long, long time ago
Now silent shadows fill the space where workers used to go

Steam cranes bow across the lough, an entry on a page
Decayed tired buildings line the Docks, relics of an age
Rows of broken windows where he silence trickles out
As nature now takes over where grass and nettles sprout

The workshops have been stripped and only carcasses remain
Moss grows on the floor where the roof lets in the rain
Miles of red brick walls which somehow now look grey
Blackened muddy puddles where singed old timbers lay

Grand imposing structures, much too big for modern use
Now crumpling and eroded from dereliction and abuse
Spectres from a Victorian age now roam these soulless lanes
You can hear their whistles on the wind. Their presence still remains

Thursday Memory

Shop bells tinkling from eight 'til late
queuing customers having to wait;
Thursday,closing at noon
opportunity to court and spoon.

Collection boxes built into walls,
gossiping ladies in their shawls;
Bells pealing on the hour,
drays pulled by one horse power.

Factory hooters' blowing
Morning cockrels' crowing;
Cycle bells a-ringing,
Provisions from vans' a-bringing.

Children Dreaming

Hope of hope, you are the right one.
At birth it's the color of flesh.
Today while waiting for the bus one mother was.
She was attractive but without her daughter or son.
She ask me how to get to the place I was going.

Her family had them both because, 
she was going to try to have some xanax
prescribed to her.

I told her my ex wife used to take mine
and that D.C.F. took my daughter from her last month.
I told her that her only real problem was the simple fact that she had no life.

I commented to her on the fact that her womanly attributes
 were very attractive.
She replied that she works for hooters.
A real life I pointed out.
One with self respect for her mind as well.

She said I was cute and knew a lot about woman problems.
I gave her some xanax she thanked me and left.
In parting I told her that some thing bad would happen
if she ever left with a big tipper.

Think of your son and daughter I leaving said.
Before leaving she said that she had never heard such
words and the way that I spoke them until.

Grief Out In the Open

The owls, hoo knows why, they do give a hoot.
Do humans give a hoot, or holler more?
The moons of hollowness...the wait for loot.
The holy prayer-knees...the beak defeats.

The dove descends with not a hoot, but peace.
A gentleness does fill a broken heart.
A grieving grace from God — the tears’ release.
Oh Geez! The anguish lifts...the fog departs.

Or does it leave? Wait, not so fast! Those tears
They shine like diamonds not polished yet.
The roughness, of the hooters hell, I fear —
They’ve, left the perch, on fire; God’s shield is wet.

Yay! for the shield is wet — it douses threats.
The umbrella of God wields no regrets.

5/24/2021

Kinda Keen

Right arm is missing or that's how it seems
Could be worse but it's as bad as it's been
No telly, no 'puter
All I think of is hooters
Which ain't all that bad, in fact it's kinda keen

Notice Potus Hocus-Pocus

Trump loves polluters and looters
(Targets for NRA shooters)
Whilst we are distracted
Our POTUS enacted
Investigation of Hooters

Noses

A nose is called many names
Some of them quite funny
Sometimes they are spotty
And often very runny
If you are unlucky you could have a bulbous nose
I would rather have a slender one, that's choosy I suppose
Roman noses are much larger and inclined to bend
Retrousser ones are saucy and turn up at the ends
Prominent noses stand out and can be very long
Hooters are another name that sounds more like a gong
A pig has a strange nose it is called a snout
It's not like other noses it's flat and don't stick out
An elephants nose is called a trunk it looks more like a hose
It is very useful as well the elephant knows
Then there's the proboscis monkey with his extraordinary sense of smell
They can use their schnozzle to find a boy or girl
There are lots of other names like sniffer, bugle, pug
I bet you've read enough of this so i'll pull out the plug

Nba Title

T-asting
O-ne
R-eward
O-r
N-BA
T-itle
O-ffers

R-apture
A-s
P-layers 
T-riumph
O-ver
R-elentless
S-hooters 

Topic: NBA Champions (June 14,2019)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Photo: Google

A Pot of Gold

A lady named Sue loved St. Patrick's Day
and marched in a parade that holiday,
after eight whiskey shooters
she showed her tattooed hooters...
those two smiling leprechauns led the way!

The Duke Farm

When the Duke boys tried to jump over my house, they crashed through the middle.
The damn General Lee landed on top of me and put me in the hospital.
The Dukes apologized and said they meant no harm.
I sued their pants off and the judge gave me their farm.
I sold their land to a big company that manufactures beer.
Jesse, Bo and Luke were furious and Daisy was in tears.
Daisy said if I gave them their farm back, she would show me her hooters.
I told all four of them to take a hike and they had to go live with Cooter.
When a person injures me, it's an extremely bad thing to do.
The Dukes learned that when people do me bodily harm, I sue.

Rudolph's Stuck In Traffic

Rudolph’s Stuck in the Traffic

     Rudolph’s stuck in the traffic,
     Oh! What a to-do,
     Hooters too-too-tooting
     Rudolph’s nose turning blue.

     Christmas Eve in the township
     Oh! What a crush,
     Santa’s sled’s going nowhere,
     Commuters all in a rush.

     Santa’s directing the traffic,
     Cars going everywhere.
     Children searching for presents,
     Oh! What a cheery affair.

     A choir in the precinct,
     Singing Silent Night.
     The crowd stand around waving,
     Santa’s sled’s really stuck tight.

     Rudolph’s stuck in the traffic,
     Oh! What a to-do,
     The crowd standing round waving,
     Santa’s sled’s really stuck tight.

      11/28/17
      For Contest 'Christmas Rhymes'
        by Kim Rodrigues

All My Yesterdays

FORGOTTEN:
callow youth
literacy learnt
a remote childhood
dark nights at play:
meadow flowers
hooters and the
school bell
bonfires
snowball fights
rusty bikes...

Kinda Keen

Right arm is missing or that's how it seems
Could be worse but it's as bad as it's been
No telly, no 'puter
All I think of is hooters
Which ain't all that bad, in fact it's kinda keen

• Short Hooters Poems
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