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Michael Feb 19
A window peeper.
'O who could it be?
A window peeper.
Are they peaking at me?

I walk into a room and suddenly,
'feels like someone's eyes
are staring right back at me!
'O who could it be?

A window peeper!
But why should I care?
A window peeper!
Just go on and stare!

I hide myself and look,
and then I see
somebody's out the window
staring back in at me! ..
with a *******?

Oh, wait a sec!  Crap!
Am I the Window Peeper?
I don't even know.  I just wrote it based off an experience years ago.  While riding shotgun with my friend, my seat belt got stuck, and I was stuck staring out my window.  Someone thought I was staring at them, while I just couldn't turn around.
WARNER BAXTER Apr 2014
.
*there once was a man who was a peeper
who spied on girls while they were asleeper
to Tom it was a jokey
'til he got thrown in the pokey
now Tom is a registered *** creeper
Tom Spencer  Sep 2019
peeper
Tom Spencer Sep 2019
leaden night
heavy, humid

clinging to a weeping
window pane

the spring peeper
greets its kin

with metallic
cheeps

and ballooning
chin


Tom Spencer © 2019
Allen Wilbert Dec 2013
Good And Bad

It was the best of times,
it was the worst of times,
hope you're ready,
for a whole new set of rhymes.
Met a girl, name was Sue,
she got me hard, then left my ***** blue.
Cooked me a huge steak, with a side of carrots,
took a bite and out came lots of maggots.
Getting ready for a hot date,
guess not coming, being two hours late.
Having your kids say I love you,
then telling them, the plans fell through.
Cuddling with your favorite boy or girl,
then on your face they start to hurl.
Driving and singing a cool *** song,
getting pulled over and they find your ****.
Hope to get lucky with all this flirtation,
then get naked and have premature *******.
Bottom of the ninth and winning by two,
making an error and they score a few.
Talking a shower that's nice and hot,
only to find a peeper, your friend Scott.
Writing the great American novel,
but you have to rewrite, you forgot a vowel.
Sitting, relaxing having a cold beer,
all alone, friends just slowly disappear.
Buying a new tv with high definition,
two days later you lose your vision.
Having a car that's fully loaded,
wiring recall, then it exploded.
Future being so bright,
then darkness blocks your sight.
Waking up and it's hot and sunny,
can't go out with no **** money.
Enjoying the indoors, with air condition,
ankle bracelet and still on probation.
Good and bad things will always be there,
it's all in how you mentally prepare.
Robert Ronnow Nov 2015
Spring peepers
stop peeping. A satellite
crosses sky. One peeper keeps peeping
in time to the satellite blinking, an eye.
Deep thinking.
www.ronnowpoetry.com
Graff1980  Nov 2018
Untitled 30.
Graff1980 Nov 2018
There is a longing,
a deep-seated human instinct
that pushes us in to meet
strange people.

Strangely,
technology
has turned me
into a peeper,
legally voyeuristic
with strangers
I have never visited.

I have the delusion
of a connection
because of some
social media intrusion;
Which means
I don’t have to
have a friend
introduce me to them.

I can just chat them up
or watch them
from a cyber distance
with a binary connection
of ones and zeros.

So, this human need
to interact and meet
strangers who are
similar and unique
is satisfied
without any risk
of rejection.

But this is an illusion,
despite my intrusion
I do not know them,

and as this
tacky techiness
evolves
we will
stay secluded in
our sic soft shadows
without actually connecting…
to….to…
User----Offline.
brandon nagley Nov 2015
I traveled seeking otherworldly unknown spiritual erudition,
Twilight was approaching, the village was illuminated; by lit face's and fiery pit's.

Shamanic foot pounding dug into the ancient soil, visages were daubed by psychedelic mirages; as embers flew from the state of consciousness matched.  As tis these wild child's wore feather's as   celestial hat's.

Chant's of healing echoed the earth, an old man with a map drawn on his countenance, and in the palm of his hand's. Stood crooked, spine shifted; with a feather inked with wisdom as the quill's were year's of time's past.

His peeper's as Sunshined glass, aged and freed, he was around the birth age of at least eighty-three; he's lived many form's back before time, before me and thee, he told me " Brandon, I've been waiting for thyself to be seen.

As tis I kneweth a messenger hadst guided me there, I was standing in the shaman's presence, as the plume's covered his hair; he kneweth I needed soul-retrieval, his grin bounced the air.

He brought me into his Wigwam, as tis I felt the demon's inside me, his singing smoked under his breath; verily a man of astral tithing, I passed out from the beastly being's biting.

Mine apparition hadst left me, I was aloft weightless over mine body, I felt as if I died, none more pride or lifes prizing. The medicine man tranced, none need for him to digest any elixers, he's been doing this for centuries, he was a past angel and spirit mixture.

I hath seen mine life's picture, just up high in the cloud's, mine aura climbed atop the great mountain, I didst not want to cometh down; I was watching this tan-skinned tribal just below mine sight; he danced, tranced, danced throughout the night.

Then at the ending before I awoketh, I stared the demon's coming out of me, as tis their infectious breathing got me choking, I pushed out all the thing's trying to latch onto mine burning light inside me, the hellion loveth good soul's, to Satan that's control: anything good is open to their inviting.

I opened mine vision, when the death-bringers left, a holy Bible was placed upon mine chest; as tis the shaman told me his Secretive gift and holiness: he told me Christ he turned to many kingdom's ago, once back when, when he was working as God's angel.

As when I left that small earthly hut of his, he started singing Christian proverb's; reciting Christian hymn's, he wasn't thy average medicine man, he kneweth truth, not fable's nor myth's; before I left he painted mine head with a cross for protective bliss. As whilst at that moment in time, the devil stayed away from mine mind, Satan's chain's wouldst be waiting for him in the brimstone abyss.




©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
"you're trash"
you would say
as you smiled my way
with a look in your eye
that said
"boy, what a guy"
a wonderful look that said
"you're wonderful" instead
a look that froze time
and stopped my heart on a dime

"you're dumb"
you would mutter
and cause my heartbeat to stutter
with a look in your peeper
that said
"my, what a keeper"
a stupendous look that said
"i want you" instead
a look as powerful as it felt
that caused my cold heart to melt
Q D Malcolm May 2016
Red river run
Sand bar island
Green mossy tree
Hang over me

Blue sky clear
Sweet rot breeze
Peeper frog chorus
Lying in the forest

Soft lichen touch
Purple petal peak
Fuzzy bee bumbles
Distant bridge rumbles

Bloop and blip
Sounds abound
Chirps and yips
And coffee sips

It's nice to be alone
To hear the sounds
See the sights
Avoid the fights

Muskrat Hollow
Coyote Creek
Hanging Tree
The place to be.

— The End —