"boho" poems
Mirror, mirror, on the wall, tell me what suits,
Soft natural highlights, or strong punk roots?
Auburn red or beach blonde hair,
Brunette with greens, or short blunt rare?
Mermaid midnight old balayage blues,
Grey ombré curled with lilac hues?
Lemon yellow paint or neon spice,
Purple color that matches my hazel eyes!
Tousled, textured, twirled and twined,
We could take it to the front, or let it all behind.
Black hair with beautiful mahogany dye,
Fringes looking pretty every day passing by.
Straight hair with an asymmetrical bob,
Lips painted red, formal and hot.
Tie buns and bows with colorful clips,
Grow pink hair long, till they reach my hips.
Fish tail braid like a Boho chic,
All pastel shades spread, across the width.
Blonde and bright, they are in my sight,
Soon to be a celebrity, wearing them uptight.
Burgundy wine perm, crazy long,
Every hair color has a song.
There are chances that they may look all wrong,
But hey! I'm not scared to just play along!
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 9:39 AM UTC
She'll sleep tight in a parallel universe tonight
my deeply serious rainbow girl astral projects
communes with Shiva and champions chakras
she has the recipe for what passes as illumined
her ignorance of current events is appalling
but that chosen ignorance is staid and unperturbed
I grumble and complain, I use the news like a ******
I put the pieces together, pattern the puzzle-
I see the BIG picture…I cut my life short
possessing a keen memory is like the proverbial millstone
the information is the lake
rainbow girl is contemptuous of my self inflicted plight
we realize its a matter of time before disparate likes divide
I am fire and she is water, I the destroyer, she the preserver
the passion can be complimentary for just so long
Like the lady bard said:
*You read those books where luxury
Comes as a guest to take a slave
Books where artists in noble poverty
Go like virgins to the grave (Joni)*
She'll tolerate my confabulated artistry a spell
I can see she's a caterwauling banshee of protestation in the waiting
Her mellifluous quietude, equanimity and perfect poise can only last so long
Before my brash stripped down vituperative diatribe is as acid in the eyes
Then be off to resume her prior harmonic convergence of heart stuff
as I with my artistic bent, abbreviate my life
*http://jonimitchell.com/music/song.cfm?id=38 The Boho Dance
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 10:12 PM UTC
A boho hemmed into a perfect circle
Misunderstood and invisible
Where everyone goes right, he prefers left
The is told he is bereft
They force him to fit in
But how can he?
He is like oil in water, a hippie in suit quarters
His free spirit just won's blend in
They hammered and bent him to belong
But turns out he has been a misfit all along
For his spirit demands to be vivid and vibrant
In a rather monochrome circle, it is a tyrant
His heavy heart needs to let it all out
His thoughts, his dreams and all his doubts
His is a white noise, he seems very far out
Everyone is deaf to this boho's screams and shouts
Sep 12, 2019
Sep 12, 2019 at 2:45 PM UTC
Trying to breathe,
TRYING TO BREATHE
into the woods.
An old woman
in a furry hat
& I,
laughing together
still somewhat
lifelike.
Ever too proud
to play
boomerang
or go fetch
for change
FOR CHANGE
we live out
of bags.
Exactly where
we're meant to be
& 'how you say?'
...all that jazz."
--shoo.shu #doubleentendres #poetry #spilledink #inthenow #inthemoment #underdog #homeless #boho #bohemian #wanderlust #gypsy #nomad
Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 4:47 PM UTC
You watch time pass by
Seeing your friends getting married, having kids, and owning homes
While you sit in your childhood room cheering them on
As you envy them because you want to be there.
You look around at your childhood room trying to make it feel more you
All you are doing is avoiding the issue at
But you're scared
Scared of stepping out into the world.
You try changing your style from the emo phase to the boho kings/queens
Spending all your money to see what calls your name the most
Questioning everything you wear
You cry looking at the little white dress you're wearing
Wishing it was the dress that was saying the words 'I Do.'
Hoping that the feeling of insecurities leave your body
It doesn't
Not until you are ready to step out into the world
Until then you cry while you wear a little white dress.
Jun 27, 2023
Jun 27, 2023 at 8:39 PM UTC
I was the jubilee runner
You were the southbank stroller
Carried away in your hair
I turn to see you turn,
To turn my steps into
Paused awkwardness
On the platform to my
Heart you stood, standing
Me still dead in my tracks
You were April’s showers
Raining down on my grey
Metro , the girl outside
Waterloo station,
The one sharing my
Thoughts unspoken
Watershed second
I was London’s haze
Set adrift in your eyes
Parted, but closed around
Your boho-chic attired
Kohl hairedness
I see you
Southbank bound
In my eyes forever
Open note to the
Sky you set me adrift
In, in that shy second
You were I, were we,
Were us, less them
All we, paused in the throng
Framed in my clickety
Clacking jubilee my
Train-track love
Story, I was the jubilee
Runner to your
Southbank stroller
Aug 17, 2013
Aug 17, 2013 at 12:13 PM UTC
Describe It accurately
Once
And give It a twirl of hair and boho skirt
Describe It once
with love full of hatred or
strife
Until your arms & legs
Shiver, until your gemmed rings
SNAP!
to pieces
Until, when your glossy
fingernails melt, a monster's
heart burns with sympathy.
Call It on the phone, don't
apologize if you hadn't
used
the right
Words.
Dec 23, 2014
Dec 23, 2014 at 8:53 PM UTC
You are not perfect, but
you are you,
If people can't appreciate, then,
😭😢 BOHO, BOHO, 😢😭
If they don't want to get with you,
then they can go get a clue,
they are the one's that are tripping, and
looking like big ole fools,
YOU SHOULDN'T EVEN GIVE A ****
Let them know, WHO'S YOU BELONG TO,
LET THEM KNOW WHO'S YOU ARE???
IS WHAT YOU SHOULD REALLY DO😉
Here you are just seeking,
the world for PERFECTION,
Of a world FULL of FAKERY, because
of you,
you GET THE REJECTION
People don't like you, because
of WHO'S YOU REALLY ARE!!!
THEY TREAT YOU LIKE TRASH, BUT
IN REALTY YOU ARE SPARKLING STAR ✨️
THEY ARE AFRAID OF YOUR LIGHT,
THEY KNOW EXACTLY WHO'S YOU ARE,
YOU HAVE HAD YOUR IN'S AND OUT'S,
THROUGH LIFE YOU HAVE COME VERY FAR!!!
THEY CAN'T STAND BEING AROUND YOU,
BECAUSE YOU HAVE SUCH A BRIGHT GLOW!!!,
YOU LIGHT UP LIKE A GLOW WORM
YOU PRETTY MUCH STEAL THE SHOW,
So, Be Thankful for your Journey,
Be Gracious, and Don't feel Blue,
******* those that will decline, and
Continue just being you!!
B.R.
Date: 9/13/2025
Sep 13, 2025
Sep 13, 2025 at 11:16 PM UTC
I will stumble foolish into the valley of dust
where all my skin and bones will rust
I will meet a fortune teller there
with her own violet eyes
entangled in her hair
Speak to me, o wise one
tell me what it is I have done
abandon your Ouija, o cosmic peasant
where you see into the souls of demons future-
past and present
and scream through your teeth
scratch my red right hand
let your words roll out
like the exorcism of a marching band
tell me my life, o darling boho *****
satisfy my callous and infinite itch
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 6:49 PM UTC
Let me
rephrase this
Letting go ask
my (Big Sis)
Tis the Season
All his letting go
I am confusing myself
My shelf still but stubborn
Born to know the
death Urn
Its been a long time
Thinking how the
world turns
I am not the one to be
letting go
Letting go of
your maid
Letting go of
your
Guilt-free Gardner
But how can
people ever leave
their Mother
I cannot get you
out of my mind
Pineapple upside down
Bent out of shape upside cake
And you know my downside
Always laying on
my left side
Like the right fashion flash
H & M
Of him Hmm___?
I believe
in miracles
The learning process- Go principles
Like the Pinnacle
What a disciple
But I am not your
Raggedy Annie
Oakley
Like your ready
to choke me
I remember you lived in a slum
I'm' the better "Bazooka Chewing"
Gum hum yum
All Graffiti
****** off painter the
whole lump
sum
The Egyptian
Queen Nefertiti
The Sattelite Taurus
Bull Ram
The Mad-men but
the ladies big slam
The first plan
didn't work
Always Plan B
So Brutal darling
Please believe me
When I tell you
I love you
Website Prim and proper
portal
Knowing your place and
All the trademarks
Central Park or
Rockefeller
The Center of attention
The Goodfella detention
Over ice the Skaker
Her beauty marks
The true kiss comeback
bump-hump note
The camelback vote
Presidential Trump
One-day- creation
Two day-letting go
exhaustion
Such maturity
to realize my mission
I didn't have to
overwork
my mind
How General
things can be
Managerial so cordial
Or the materialistic me?
If I sang out all your affairs
Like the Pedigree
Shop until I drop you
Like Gum-drop
HBO I'm the Boho
Mr. Spencer shop
Mess
College drop-out
What am I chop liver
Letting go I don't really no?
What is on the next agenda
to Deliver not Pizza
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 2:17 PM UTC
in Nordstroms at the Cherry Creek Mall
in Denver, I tried on a gold dress that didn't
fit around my hips (but not many things do,
including your arms or your eyes or your
honesty) and the dressing room attendant
didn't bother to knock before unlocking the
door to tell me that this particular room
wasn't for me, and her eyes, particularly
her boho hat, made me feel like slime,
like a wet body bag, like a sweaty
creature that crawled out from
beneath the hot stones in canon
city and I eagerly shuffled out of
the hall with the gold dress that didn't
fit around my hips (because nothing does)
and the for the rest of the day I saw myself
fitting my skin over inanimate objects and wishing
I could be beautiful.
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 9:50 PM UTC
Long lines at midnight, breathless hype,
shiny sheen, the high gloss of marketing,
cosplay and balletic spoiler avoidance,
slammed multiplexes, overloaded ticket sites,
Croesus-like CGI kissing earnest steady-cam shots,
fan service, callbacks, countless punches.
Childhood idols fleshed out
on the grandeur of the silver screen,
writers room noodling netting billions
long after all the shaggy boho creatives
that originated it all were lowered
into the loamy maw of anonymous grave plots.
There's a degree of validation for the pasty
and hopeless, the low and lowdown
in watching a distinguished professional legend
pretending to be Bartoc the frickin Leaper
as though it's not silly, as though all
your idle moments, all your random diversions
really matter in the end, as though it all ties up
with a master-planned through-line of purpose,
as though it all mattered when you avidly read
about Iron Man, Hercules and Giant Man punching
out the red-shirt Skrulls (or was it the Krees?) on some spaceship
for a few minutes back at your grandmother's house
back before she was dead, before you were consumed
with the caustic sting of bitterness and bile, all the
accrued weight of a life generally but pleasantly wasted.
Apr 25, 2019
Apr 25, 2019 at 2:28 AM UTC