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Brent Kincaid Feb 2016
You say you’ll give me everything
But all I get from you
Is a lot of promises
And kitchy kitchy koo.
You said I’d get a diamond ring
Before the week was through.
Then you said you lost your job
And wanted kitchy koo.

The washing machine
No longer works
And neither do you.
I wish I was exaggerating,
But every word is true.
All I get to look forward to
Is kitchy Kitchy Koo.

Kitchy kitchy koo
When it all begins.
It’s a lot of fun till when
All the kitchy koo ends
You best start out as friends.

Our love life is super hot
But there are other things to do.
Life involves so much more
Than kitchy kitchy koo.
Groceries and cleaning matter
Though not that much to you.
It’s too bad you don’t get paid
For kitchy kitchy koo.

I never thought I would complain
About making love with you.
It isn’t that part that bothers me
So, let me drop the other shoe.
There are seven days every week
And things we adults must do.
And only a tiny percent of that
Involves kitchy kitchy koo.

Kitchy kitchy koo
It’s a catchy rhyme
Just have fun all the time.
When the kitchy koo ends
We may just part as friends.
FOR ZUNU N FREYU..............

                     KOO-CHI-KOO
Koo-chi-koo, o' o' koo-chi-koo
my darling Zunu has lost her shoe
“ o' my!  did I forget it in the loo ?
Now I don't know what to do !
If I walk with feet bare, I’ll suffer from flu”.

In came Freyu; in his magic Nano he flew;
on a hook big, he stuck some glue
and efficiently dropped the lost shoe !
At this, laughed aloud Na-nu-ni-nu.
Together all they said, “koo-chi-koo”.

Armin Dutia Motashaw.
Samraat Anand Sep 2017
TERE DIL ME RAHNE KA SHAUK THA HAMEE BETAHASHA ;

TERE SATH KII IS DIL KOO TALAB THI;

TERE LABH SE KUD KA NAAM SUNNE KA ZID THA…

TU ZINDAGI TOH PAHLE SEE THI MERI;

AUR SHYAD AB ZEENE KA KARAN BHI HOO *** …



CHAH KAR BHI TERE KARIB AANE SE DARTA HUU;

DIN RAAT TUJHE SOCH KAR BHI LABH *** LANE SEE DARTA HUU;

TIL TIL KAR TERE SATH KO MARTA HUU….

AUR KOI PUJHE TOH BAS, HAS KAR ITNA KAHTA HUU;

WO EK MUSAFIR THI JISKI MANJIL MAI NAA THA ;

WO EK CHAKOR THI JISKA CHAND MAI NAA THA;

WO EK DARIYA THI JISKA SAHIL MAI NAA THA…



EK BAR FIR SEE USKEE LIYE YEE DIL MACHAL RAHA HAI;

FIR SEE NAYE SAPNE DEKHNE KOO YEE DIL  MAR RAHA HAI ;

KAISE SAMJHAUU IS NADAN PARINDEE KOO ;

KII TUU EK BAR FIR TUTNE KI OOR BADH RAHA HAI….



WOO KAHTE THE IS JHUTE ISK KI BATEE NA KIA KARO;

DIL TUMHARA HAMME CHOR KISI AUR KE LIYE BHI DHARKEGA ;

KUCH DIN ME AASHIKI KA BHUKAR BHI SAR SEE UTREGA ;

PAR AB KYA BATAE JANAB KOO ,

DEKHE UNHE  TOH MANO EK ARSA SAA HOO GAYA;

PAR AAJ BHI WOO HAR EK PAL ENN SANSOO  ME RAVA HAI;

AAJ BHI IS DIL ME BAS UNKI HI JAGAH HAI;

UNKI YAD ME AAJ BHI RAATE KATHI HAI HAMARI;



FARK BAS ITNA HAI HAMARI CHAHTE EK DUSRE SEE JUDAA HAI….
Martin Narrod May 2014
Ashley,

     Your blues inspire me, insipid triangles, walking cold, sweating more and wetting the bed your lips the sizes of gods that I married through hidden video cameras, I caught bias in bliss, racism in slow disasters, tornado sirens and just sirens, and justice on the horizon. My eyelids the sizes of your little *******, the party of tomorrow, the starting sounds of scarred and stripped *** sounds. Caught in a drift, my bottom lip stuffed with lift-lust and jolting up and down your porcelain rift. Messed up and round the back to the buttons, the clasp too heavy to drop your ego down, the cold too swift to catch me as I fell. The heavens too burdened to beat me with your god. I just wanted to me smacked in the face with your flaws. Hips the sizes of doorknobs, hurdles that I caught one weekend sipping slow gin with granddad and papa and Tootsie, your evils carnivorous, your mess much more than your message. Your koo-koo voodoo and big bad red frock. Tuesday's made me the man I am today. The Slayer made me the hate I stuffed into my **** ****-strap to puff out my chest and make prisms in kitten litters and furrow the night clauses to match stick the pumped-up bypass of hazmat and heroism, I was won and didn't know it, you were one and now you're all one.
She,
     came to me in French class holding straws. I picked swiftly and came, all staled and stiff, lock-jaw and threesomes one moonlit night the fourth of July.
Love Letter to An Ex-Girlfriend
Bardo May 2018
She's real smoochy
She's my hoochie *******
She's my sweet little Koala Bear.

She's so cute
And she's a total hoot
Keeps me smiling throughout the day.

Nice and cuddly
She's bubbly wubbly
Soothes all my troubles away.

She's kinda kooky
She's my nooky wooky
My little Koo Koo Koala Bear.

She climbs my tree
And she talks to me
Ever so softly.

She holds me tight
Through the darkest night
Quietens me when I'm afraid.

Don't you ever leave me, will ya
My lovely little sweet
My sweet little lovely, Koala Bear.
Australian poem
Tyler Armstrong  Oct 2014
Hi Koo
Tyler Armstrong Oct 2014
The bare weight of wind
kept us alive that black night
kids against the world

suited for space
we drove that rusty honda
and made faces at the passerbys

their lines intersecting
like moonbeams
across the endless stretch

Your angle suits you now
trajectory too
mechanically fit for fun

I'm the one
in apple red
dancing your garden to shreds
Fall 2006
.sweet cherry blossomlosing their power to clingpaints an old man's sky.
Andrew Parker Dec 2013
jump, skip, hop, then POP!
August 2, 2011

So here's a playful tune
to make your body swoon.
Shake and bake those hips
pucker up and lick your lips.
Because tonight, we're dancing!

da lada dee da daaa laaa la laa ohhhh

I love the way you move like that
jumpin' 'n jivin', you're one cool kat.
So now we're getting down
laughing so much, are you a clown?
In our serene meadow, together, we're prancing!

Lemme catch you off guard, sweep you off your feet
this is the most romantic way I could think of for us to meet.
Now don't get me wrong, I mean I dress to impress
but girl, for you, I'd much rather wear less.
If you know what I mean, hiding my eyes glancing!

Excuse me mam, but I don't mean to be rude
or have you think my humor is too crude.
But for a special lady, lady, lady, oh so cute
I'll give it my my all, gotta take aim, then shoot.
Gotta get, gotta gotta, give you my all, all my romancing.

Boop boop be doop buh bahhh tra lalalahhh

Baby, so I've got you now forever maybe.
Squeeze you so freaking tight, 'till your soul leaves.
Enters my body and we intertwine, as it mentors.
Me and teaches how to be we.

koo koo cuh cahhh shoop doop la lahhh
Jump, Skip, Hop, then POP!
Pen Lux Feb 2015
emptiness is great
it clears way for reflection
in a way you're free
Darnell Nov 2014
When I was born we stock together flock of a feather a Grandpa said,
Love was true we pulled through, houses grew, families grew, peace was "koo", but soon who knew; drugs came through, your dads generation grew, an there came a few  who's minds where stew in a sense; starting trouble killing each-other. Single mothers came more common. Prison's grew an the rich of course, who started this course for the generations to come. Now your here where RnB, hiphop, & rap pump through your blood, confused on when to love, an why to hate. Unconsciously not knowing you grew with rage on shoulder, in your ear, in your rear, while you run a race in life, mostly of waiting to truly live, not wanting to love because of fear, fear which only brings trouble. Pushing the right people away, wanting the the wrong to stay. Commonly no one adds war which if it wasn't country to country, it was state to state, city to city, block to block, house to house, Dad's to son an mothers, an you can't forget ****. Peace was never truly pushed imagine it starting from 1 house hold, love an peace growing an flowing, that kid became a teacher who taught true love an not to hate. How an why each race should date, and that maybe we need to be listening to our hearts an ours souls instead of or minds an our flesh less an less caring for one another!
Intelligence Quotient

* eye koo

I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MY HANDS!

                  * *...my hands are useless...


eldoo a tem
eldoo a tem
eldoo a tem



I only throw
my Banana
at Chel-Sea
I only throw
my Banana
at Chel-Sea
I only throw
my Banana
at Chel-Sea

— The End —