"boob" poems
Skins touch with a shocking wave of electromagnetic beats,
the tempo of our hearts sync in melodies.
When you kiss me with your tender lips, my mind becomes...
Electromagnetic.
Earthly fields summon my spirit when you come unto me with your sweet lavishing ways.
You lay there...on my bed, with me...it's just us 2 alone with the TV on and when i turn to look at you, your eyes are more of a sharp blue than the daylight brings.
I laid there with my eyes closed and felt the gentle grasp of your hand massage my **** when i slowly opened my eyes around the room...i see you, staring at me with those Electromagnetic eyes and once again we fall into a trance for loves best symphonies.
Whenever you're with me,
The room,
My soul,
Our bodies...become...
Electromagnetic..
Sep 25, 2020
Sep 25, 2020 at 12:02 PM UTC
If the beauty standard of a thigh gap
Were replaced with the beauty standard
Of a **** gap
Then many more women would feel
Beautiful
Aug 29, 2015
Aug 29, 2015 at 10:34 PM UTC
multimedia macramé
sloshing propaganda sewage
on the unsuspecting public
***** lice infest ****** hill folk
west Virginia outbreak threatening the world
as we know it
flesh altering nonsense explicitly graphed
charting movement of microbes
on air, land, and/ or sea
global currents the new deliverer of death –
infected immigrants sit smiling
internment camps providing nutrition
never before experienced
as non-natives negotiate freedom
by submitting to vaccinations baths
and the standard delousing powder –
paranoid hand-sanitizer users
glued to the **** tube
spray their shoes with disinfectant
praying to an absent GOD for health
while shoveling GMO corn chips into ever widening
mouth holes
pharmaceutical companies lick lifeless lips
as Congress recognizes their humanity
while rejecting the concerns of the poor
…..no money in it –
outlandish claims of outbreaking Ebola
flood the mainstream outlets
fear: version – infinity
one more plague plan to stimulate new legislation
more law
no touching
even looking at the infirm can be cause for isolation
radiation treatments
courtesy of Fukushima, reactors 1-4 –
new found focus on fracturing the shale
releasing new oil reserves
and old bacteria
dinosaur killers
free-radicals
radically changing the genetic code
humanity altered
once again –
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 12:16 PM UTC
Dear Hot Straight Actresses,
Stop playing perfect lesbian characters on TV that cause me to become wet on lonely Thursday nights.
It’s the equivalent of waving double chocolate fudge cake in front of a menstruating woman who has just been diagnosed with type 2 diabetes.
To name a few,
Jennifer Beals as Bette Porter on The L Word.
Stop it!
Naya Rivera as the sassy Santana Lopez on Glee.
Stop it!
Angie Harmon as butch goddess Detective Jane Rizzoli on Rizzoli & Isles.
You may be in the closet but you are gay and stop!
And Sara Ramirez and Jessica Capshaw as the married ****** Dr. Cali Torrez and Dr. Arizona Robbins of Grey’s Anatomy.
You…you keep going. You two give me hope.
Hope that someday my insanely high expectations will be met when my hot art collecting, sassy mouthed Doctor with handcuffs in her back pocket jumps from the screen and onto my sweatpants covered lap.
In this crazy assumption that I’ll end up falling out of an apple tree letting gravity push me into the arms of a woman who fixes my broken sense of reality with a amazing great hair and a wedding proposal.
Missing out on the
Hot barista who gives me an extra large when I ask for a small
or the
Budding **** artist who invites me to her galleries only to realize her muse has oddly the same hips as me.
or the
Best friend who is still stuck in the shadows of my closet.
Nope…didn’t see any of those.
I’m too busy watching the **** tube to see what low cut tops they can get away with before they leave the set and back to their husband and 2.5 kids.
All I’m asking is…
…when is it coming out on DVD?
Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 7:17 AM UTC
Now I'm tired of romance and I just want
a gorgeous naked bombshell to ****
I see those water-filled balloons.
I see the slit of a navel.
Those sultry eyes speak of betrayal,
but those are the kind of eyes
that tell of the hottest, sweatiest love.
Her fake blonde hair gives away her cheapness.
I just want to take off her bra and *******
I see no vein or artery of life in her.
I remember beer and bars.
I affix my eyes to the shadow made by a ****
I see the silk lines of her collar bone and neck.
I realize she's standing in front of a window.
I meet her eye of innocence with mine of admiration,
and I tear up.
You look like you'd take me to court
because I haven't touched you yet.
You look like you'd smoke a cigarette with me.
I imagine she's hiding a ***** she's not fond to look at.
Your chin reminds me of a pickup truck.
You look like you have a baby inside,
then I look at your eyes,
and I realize,
if we really ****** it could be true.
So much for chivalry.
Sep 28, 2020
Sep 28, 2020 at 4:35 AM UTC
What happened to the beautiful boisterous screaming queens of the 80's full of Gloria Gaynor dancing on bars & pianos & teasing & strutting & grabbing life by the *****
Every time I go to the Op Shop & see a pair of size 11 patent leather red pumps I think of you & put them on & walk around the shop just to remind me of the fabulous times.
Are you making lounges in the shape of Cadillacs or corsets or sculpting **** - tail glasses delicately gold leafed - centre table?
Back up x 30 in the Botanical Gardens at Mardi Gras & remember the good times, the sad times, the Carmen Miranda, feather boer, wig, **** & lipstick times my friends........
smooth jazz grand piano
.......
Dec 30, 2017
Dec 30, 2017 at 4:58 AM UTC
Inner Peace
Evil is everywhere, monsters don't hide in closets,
they roam the streets, sponges of malvolent twisted minds,
The devil is not a fallen Angel, but born from a unfortunate mother,
Where's the bogeyman ? we need only turn on the **** tube, or look out the window or across the kitchen table,
Where Do I find my Inner Peace? No mediative state of mind, not a prayer to nothing.....I have a pistol and six bullets.
Firewalker
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 8:52 PM UTC
Tee hee, look at me!
Tight little ***** hey can you see?
Not a tan line on me!
I bask nakedly! Tee hee, tee hee!
Pay attention to me!
Tee hee hee, bikini hangin' free
Grab that thing of sunscreen oil
And rub it on freely!
Now I shine reflectively! Tee hee!
Tee hee is not just words to me
It's more a way of life, you see
Each **** that bounces bouncily
Says to the world, tee bouncy hee hee hee
So please upvote my poem, it's free
And score a point for li'l ol' me
Being so single hurts sorely!
Help a girl out, tee hee hee!
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 6:44 AM UTC
Dear Insomnia,
You’ve opened my eyes.
No, you’ve just made them hard to close.
No, still, you’ve made it pointless to close,
since the whirlpools in my head
just **** me into nightmares.
My bed has become choppy with you in it.
So I leave you there to capsize my bed.
I creep like a pervert down my own hallway,
to sit quietly,
on the ice leather love seat,
like the Little Mermaid, longing,
and to watch, with sandy eyes,
the white flash of relief,
as the boob-tube wakes.
As you know,
You can flip through hundreds of channels at 2 a.m.,
to find nothing,
just smiles, like fake
******* selling dreams
of whiter whites
and chiseled chests.
I wade away,
abandoning my iceberg,
to spy through glass
the girl on the second floor,
my neighbor,
the moon.
I’ve come to know her more these days,
thanks to you,
and her many expressions that hide
her pale face. A mystery.
She too hides herself away in the dark.
A trait we all share.
A friend still,
navigating me back to safer waters.
Yours.
Apr 18, 2012
Apr 18, 2012 at 1:39 PM UTC
Age: 1
There's really not much to remember from a year of being born.
Age: 2
Still nothing.
Age: 3
Nope
Age: 4
Now we're getting somewhere. Dad left. He left us with a an angry hole in the wall from where I saw him kick.
Age: 5
My cousin burned my hand severely with an iron this year. I remember watching all of the other kids got to ride their bike and play around. And me? Holding my bandaged hand from the side of the street.
Age: 6
There's a faint memory of a pink and yellow skirt that I wore all of the time. I was in love from the first time my mom brought it home. This was the year I received the infamous Care Bear that all of my family soon learned to love like they did me.
Age: 7
I went trick-or-treating as a princess this year. It was the best of them all. Mom found someone else to "love".
Age: 8
I lost my Care Bear. This was enough to ruin the rest of the year. I entered the third grade at a new school that mom said was closer to our real house. I realized that my dads side of the family didn't like me. I wonder why.
Age: 9
The cousin who burned my hand? I burned her with a firework stick in the **** It was an accident of course. The nurse pulled me out of class and had a very personal talk with me about my growing *****
Age: 10
In the fifth grade, I experienced my first gain and loss of friendship. It prepared me for the years to come.
Age: 11
The sixth grade; the year that I met all of the important people in my life. This is the only explanation needed. Most importantly, I met you.
Age: 12
She ran away from home and when I finally found her, we cried together in her room. I soon left her.
Age: 13
Finally a teenager and still trying to escape my growing feelings for you. Ah the eighth grade.
Age: 14
Ashly became the closest thing I had to a best friend. And then there was you...
Age: 15
We drifted and Ashly became so much more closer. It's still a little hard to talk to you when I know that you have new friends and that you might not miss me. We still talk and every once in a while, I sense hope...
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 12:09 AM UTC
I live in north Florida
That's just a hop, skip, and a jump
From the land known as Georgia
Where "Honey Boo Boo" holds court with her mom
If'n you don't know "Honey Boo Boo"
Your in for a treat or more than one
She's a multi car train wreak
That you can't turn your eyes away from
First let me explain the state of Georgia
So this family ya'll will understand
Not long ago they re-dirted both paved roads
Said progress was getting out of hand
So with that said and done
And formalities out of the way
Lets turn our attention back to our star attraction
And see what she has to say
Her fame started on Toddlers & Tiaras
Reality shows we all seem to love
From The Crazed Housewives to The Kardashion's
America can not get enough
And since it's on T.V. it's gotta be true
Have you ever tried her drink sensation
Of Red Bull and Mountain Dew, She likes to call "Go Go Juice"
It'll put a hurtin' on you
And who wouldn't want to see a six year old
With that kind of Hellacious Buzz
What goes through my mind when I look at that is
Ahhh, Redneck Motherly Love
So you had better redneckonize her!
If you know what's good for you
Cause a dolla makes her holla!
I'm so glad they've brought back the **** Tube...
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 8:10 AM UTC
Oh t.v.-
how I despise thee.
Consuming the hearts
and the minds of the weak.
Living their days,
only to see,
what gossip they find
on the next celebrity.
Disgusting fucking-fiends!
Destroying all the peace!
Probing at these lives
of whom they wish
that they could be.
Discover your own life already!
Uncover all the lies already!
Quit wasting your days
conforming your ways,
for your end will be fast and steady.
Jun 21, 2010
Jun 21, 2010 at 8:57 PM UTC
Meaningless *** Poem
5/4/2014
Set your gaze upon the man across the bar.
Watch him as he casually drinks a beer and laughs with his friends.
Gossiping about past drunken nights' ends.
Ends that were met with a warm welcome's comfort.
Ends that involved taking a woman to bed without much effort.
How many do you think that man slept with in high school?
A mindless **** count as if they were tools,
willing to be wielded and fooled.
willing to be picked up and ******
in the back of his ****** '04 pickup truck.
Maybe he's had at least one meaningless ***** with that **** of his.
So tell me this.
Please, why is the *** I have meaningful to him?
If his *** is shallow, then why does mine fill his hatred to the brim?
What's worse is the way he claims to 'know.'
The signs I give off that are guaranteed to show.
1. I wear tight underwear.
2. Their color scheme has a brightly colored flare.
3. I sit with my legs crossed in a chair.
4. That tells him I want it down there.
3. I get up and walk to the bathroom with a sway,
2. No straight man would dare do that.
1. ****** Marys and Long Islands are dead give-a-ways,
0. I held hands with a man walking into the bar.
But the same as him,
I could take someone home and forget their name.
I could gloat about it to friends the next night out for two minutes' fame.
I could go on with what to him could be an ordinary day.
But because it's me, it's more meaningful to him.
Because I am gay.
Let's have a toast for the ********** as Kanye once said.
Let's have a toast for homophobes who take women meaninglessly to bed.
meanwhile my meaningless *** only finds meaning in their heads.
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 7:18 PM UTC
*first
let’s discuss
the girl in the other room
you know the one?
with the hair
who's wearing too much perfume
and those shoes ha, those shoes!
you know?
her outfit's a costume
yeah, that's the one! the pants… they did make her look* ( )
*and her dye job?
heard it’s box
she has a **** job and botox*
**** **** there she is
phew...
**haaaaay girlfriend
I didn’t see you there!
your hair
is like
so gorgeous!
it's totally a win
and I
am like
SO JEALOUS
of your beautiful
skin!!!!
but could you be a doll
and go find my brother Pete?
I think he might be out front
finding parking in the street**
ex…
oh…
ex…
oh…
*she totally ****** Pete.
I know, she seems nice but trust me she’s a *****
her legs are always open boys they use her like a bank
I know I’ve slept with like eight guys
I think she’s been with more than ten
I know I cheated on my boyfriend but she totally ***** over men -*
Pete! hey,
thanks, giiiirl… love ya!
ex…
oh…
ex…
oh…
so -ahem- this poem is called
I Thought I Knew You...
Nov 23, 2011
Nov 23, 2011 at 12:36 AM UTC
New faces means more money for me nerds first show since operation
Nerd'. Hi everyone and welcome to safely home new faces means more money for me and tonight we have grey ham kennel tea with his little song, take it away, dudes
Grey ham kennel tea'
I was a little tea *** but I grew up
Into a big coffee machine
Cause I want to give people stronger stuff
So they can work hard all day
Yes, they won't have time to play
Show your legs, ya **** girl
How I wonder what life would be if you showed them nw
Up above my eyes so high
And to me your be like a pretty diamond in the sky
So, now **** girl, you showed your legs
And now I can go back home to eat scrambled eggs
Fruit salad, yummy yummy, on your **** is even better
Fruit salad, I want to try some that
Is sitting on your **** right now
Go Santa Barbara go, give me something entertaining to watch
Oh yeah, go Santa Barbara go
Yes, go right now, and we have to move
Go Santa Barbara go, right now
And we'll cumm, all over the place
Yes, my girl needs to be romantic, I will bang the jukebox
And hey presto, somewhere over the rainbow starts to play
Yes, it's sooooo cool, like me, the Fonz
Nerd'. Thanks Lionel and now we have made a decision on who wins, and I have been handed a letter, yes, I'm sorry, we have no extra money
Nerd'. Thank you Grey ham kennel tea, we'll see if I want to give money to you,
And now here is Lionel Fonzie with his song, I wanna be cool
Here it goes
Lionel fonzie'
I will ride my motorcycle all over the town
And I hit the juke box and instantly music
Starts playing straight out of it without money
Cause I am cool man, and I ain't gonna change
I am cool man, yes, I will be cool forever
I go out and I always get my girl
And she really wants me, no she isn't stuck with me
Cause I am the Fonz, girl's think I am really really cool
And the young ones today will say I'm sick
And maybe I am, to them I say
Cause sick is another way to say cool, man
from my health insurance from my
Opp, so sorry, I was relying on paying you with that money, and I have to say, tough luck,
So no one wins
Lionel Fonzie said'. You get paid to do this show don't ya, ya loaded aren't ya
Nerd'. Yeah well sorry, that is my money, and you can't expect me to pay my
Money now can't you, cause doing new faces means more money for me and you get what's left at the end of the day, sorry, that means
nothing today
Lionel and gray ham'. ***** you nerdy
Nerd'. I have to go, see ya next time
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 12:44 AM UTC
She saved his name
In the dearest part of the
Places in her phone-book
As him
As the wall-paper
As the ringing tone
As the welcome message
As the shut-down message
As the reboot message
As the password
As the screen lock
As the screen saver
Because it was him.
She saved his name
In the tender-most spot of the
Tissues in her juvenile heart
As the billow of her night
As The pillar of her tired body
As the undergird for her weak shoulders
As The king of her threatened soul
As The man of her womanhood
As the human part missing in her nature
Because it was him.
She led herself wallow in the
Most turmoil of the whirlpool
in his social-sphere that came to her
Young academic world
For money
For sanity
For sanitation
For security
For preparedness
For social emergence
For the future calamity
And for self-completion
Because it was him
And he was available.
Married, settled and most available,
Available to all; the young, the adult and the aged
Available to men, bi-curious and women
Available to the poor, peasant and the owning,
Available to the unschooled, the so-so, and the knowing,
Available to the widows, the married and the divorced
Available to the immaculate, the citizens of red-street world
The Harem keepers, red-tent keepers and the pimp’s protégée,
Available to the Arabs, Negroes, Asians, the black Jews, Chinese and the Albinos,
Available to the whites, Ab-origins, the lame, the bearded and boob-less women,
Available to the epileptic, the ghosts, the dead, and for the burial rituals of the Luo,
Available he was in extra version as a Libertino.
By Alexander Opicho
(From, Lodwar, Kenya)
[email protected]
Aug 9, 2019
Aug 9, 2019 at 5:57 AM UTC
A good friend with a basset-hound face is on his feet
The rest of us are weak
as newborn puppies,
from the late hour, the numbing glory in our lungs
But, mostly from laughter.
This young man is a connoisseur of altered states, an apprentice butcher, and one of the chosen few who breath music in and out effortlessly
And he's preaching
Prosthelytizing
Three minutes before,
he had been happily day dreaming
Three feet from the floor
with the boob-tube beaming
happy
simple
moving colors
The man on the set shows us how to stir-fry chicken
Our mouths water, but we're content to sit.
But with the fire coming up that glass pipe
and setting his boiler to churn along feverish
He caught an insight
or it snared him, like a spiderweb across a peaceful hiking path
On his feet
He was beginning to see connections
And had to share them with someone
Now
I'm a limp doll at this point, fully immersed in the body-high
Thoughts are glacial, movement glacial
Oh, my friend.
You're talking to the wrong audience
We can't hope to see it as you do.
But he keeps on keeping on.
And tells us a thing or two.
Cooking
He says
Is like ***
As our laughter dies down to a dull roar, he continues
The speeds and heats and intensities can all vary
to give you countless subtle differences.
But the true constant is care
Loving attention to the finest detail.
His brows furrow, his toes test the fibers of the rug
and he glances back up, and I imagine a podium in front of him.
Or maybe it's like Jazz. He says.
We learn, or glean out, how things are supposed to happen
But in the moment, the twanging instant
Beautiful things will themselves to exist
and they defy all well-laid plans.
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 8:33 PM UTC
I said
HEY
**** BEARER
HURRY UP
WITH THE CLEANING
THERE'S DISHES NEEDIN TO GET DONE !
...
And
I GOT SOME FRIENDS COMIN OVER
SO REST UP
SOME OF EM MIGHT BE HORNEY
AND THEY LIKE YA
SO BE READY--
----
She said
Ya know
I'm gettin tired a this!
I ain't gonna take it for more than
Another decade or two!
--
GEEZ
I said
Ya musta been readin them liberated
Kids on hello poetry!
They only take abuse two
Maybe three
Years at most
Before movin on ta
Another abuser !
She started cryin
Said she wouldn't read it any more
And begged for forgiveness
I didn't give her none
It woulda just confused her
Bein a mere
**** bearer
Ya know
May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 9:15 PM UTC
She with the deepest cleavage
Will allure the most clicks
**** off b-minus chicks
Cause the most leakage
Aug 10, 2016
Aug 10, 2016 at 8:11 PM UTC
Faith is a troubled word in muddy
clothes, walking with the unthinking,
the enraged, the **** tube prophets
Still: I believe a few things, like
that You exist
that You reward the seeker
that the greatest anything is love,
You always did say that:
'Love each other, love Me'
Faith reveals the invisible
hope which lifts sunken eyes to
Love
which is the only redemption
in the burning streets
of a condemned world.
Choosing a love ethic means knowing
you are connected
to every other life
and even to eternity
which Tagore describes
as the place where nothing can vanish:
no hope
no happiness
no vision of a face seen through tears
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 4:07 AM UTC
english is called a salad in irish / hardly Gaelic, but worded for a toast, and the poor treat the poor as might be a drowning traveller on the titanic without pearl or a four-leaved clover.
and might not be the tears
of haka forbears
be the light
worth sharing when the europeans
that looked stupid
in bleached worth a colouring
in foreign culture
they thought it was worth being televised;
salad / sushi wording...
you immigrant? you irish? no?
oh well... you dodo? the end!
idiot pole didn’t outsmart the irish muscle
or potato! gave way to mash and tartan
of lamb mince... and still the irish
"communicated" leaving the poles
and engaging with *******
to be cheap in terms of worthy slavery:
two patron saints an Irish... one **** marley
one irish double with rye bread...
then there's Ulster, half of Dublin might mind,
and a percentage of Poland under russia prussia or austria...
you ******* leprechaun!
hey! mediocre me with a ceilidh:
make that ireland on the rocks...
the queen of the e.u. where the rainbow
where u2 where the *** of gold?
in iraq... or so i'm told.
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 11:11 PM UTC
They continually tell me about my life
My Mother, my family, my friends
It's not like I want their advice
Again and again and again
I have someone special I always turn to
Whenever it is I'm feeling down
A professional that lays out the hard truth
The best in advice to be found
No fancy titles or degrees on the walls
Simply known to many as Bob
Keeps the drinks and advice always flowing
Say's he's just a bartender doing his job
Having trouble with your latest lover?
Keep getting guff from the boss?
Bob's always there to give you a listen
Keep the drinks coming...the only cost
The more drink get I advoice better
From Bip, Bop, **** why can't I remember his name?!
As the regular old women start looking like exotic dancers
That's when I ask what's his name for some change
With eagerness I start filling the juke box
Asking all the old hags if they'd like to dance
It's too late but tomorrow a slight memory
Will ask what was up with all that
I even drunk texted my girlfriend
Pictures of incriminating positions
And a 4am call to the boss
Telling him where to cram his restaurants ***** dishes
I certainly made a mess of my life
And have no idea where I left the car
In desperate need of advice
I head back down to the bar...
Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 4:49 PM UTC
---
here's to the
**** tube
the idiot box
it has pretty pictures
they walk and they talk!
it feeds us
our morals
it gives us our news
you're cool if you watch it
you're into the groove!
it feeds you religion!
"yes! we'll change your luck!
just send your seed money!
hundreds of bucks!"
you'll know who watches
there's no disguise
they are the ones with
the pinwheel eyes!
there's one in the kitchen
and one in the den
put one in the bathroom
watch again and again!
c'mon! sit down!
have a few beers!
watch 'til your brains
pour out your ears!
forget about books
they're so pase'
and stop all that writing
it's so not today!
watch, *watch, **watch, WATCH! ***
i think you will find
you'll lose your marbles
'til finally you're
*BLIND.
soulsurvivor
(c) 5/18/2015
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 12:04 AM UTC
They own everything
the opinion of reliance
the feeling of dependence
the fear
the conformity
the instilled ignorance
and distraction of
the masses
eyes glued to the **** tube
watching political puppets
dance to their master scheme
the sidewalks I walk upon
the streets I drive
all the food I eat
the water I drink
the fires I ignite
the land I reside on
the schools I learned in
the lines I type this message through
even the most basic
human needs and commodities of life
they slap a dollar sign on
a dollar sign made and controlled by them
they own the people
who will eventually drag me away
because they can never have my heart
they can never have my soul
and most of all. .
they will never have my mind.
and it pains me knowing they own so much more
of the others surrounding me.
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 11:36 PM UTC
You said it might be a bit uncomfortable
That it feels like a little scratch
Or perhaps it's like a bee sting
But then you start to latch
My **** into something
Described as a gentle squeeze ....
But I wish that you'd be honest
And just tell me please
Your ***** I'm going to pummel
Stick them with 8 inch pins
Crush them into vices
Then hammer iron nails in
And then when you've reached
The end of your tether
I'll smile sweetly & tell you
You might feel under the weather .....!!
Well the lies they don't help
In any way or fashion
It wouldn't **** you, you know
To show me some compassion
Well I tell you what
Here's my little joke
I'm going to punch you in the face
It'll feel like a gentle stroke ....!
(C) Pixievic
(C) Pixievic
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 6:46 AM UTC