"bops" poems - Hello Poetry

Monk tinks tonight fine glasses clink convivial banter bubble pop blink in breathing rooms bit woofed and stirred the smoke mint sound we dare exhale Monk swings about a bell do ding the huey blues bird bops on wings hips juicy moves rubby mounds wet **** slow drum rolls blow dance steady bump Monk rocks the house the clock do tick me feets be tappin gonna busta trick key ******* bounce mouths all agape we gettin down like crazy apes Monk’s muzik rides a sonorous beam levitatin hipsters to places unseen gosh groovy tunes a **** good gig we all stoked up Monk we do dig Monk played alright some swingin tunes Happy B Day Monk you over the moon Thelonious Monk (October 10, 1917 - February 17, 1982) Thelonious Monk with John Coltrane Trinkle ****** 10/9/13 Suffern jbm

0

Oct 9, 2013

Oct 9, 2013 at 3:25 PM UTC

james-bradley-mccallum

Monk Muzik (Monk at Minton's)

Monk tinks tonight fine glasses clink convivial banter bubble pop blink in breathing rooms bit woofed and stirred the smoke mint sound we dare exhale Monk swings about a bell do ding the huey blues bird bops on wings hips juicy moves rubby mounds wet **** slow drum rolls blow dance steady bump Monk rocks the house the clock do tick me feets be tappin gonna busta trick key ******* bounce mouths all agape we gettin down like crazy apes Monk’s muzik rides a sonorous beam levitatin hipsters to places unseen gosh groovy tunes a **** good gig we all stoked up Monk we do dig Monk played alright some swingin tunes Happy B Day Monk you over the moon Thelonious Monk (October 10, 1917 - February 17, 1982) Thelonious Monk with John Coltrane Trinkle ****** 10/9/13 Suffern jbm

44

The man decked in blue sits quite content on a sofa and observes wealthy offspring waltz in flashing their brilliant teeth glossed with potent peppermint. These teens don't know love, lust is all it is. While the Jazz bops away, more whisky is poured and they zip out to get jammy. The man, mid-twenties, kind of blue, dapper apparel, has one on the rocks. Sees them walk in most evenings, cute blondes with flawless skin, guys in suits, bow ties, the works, gaze into each other's pupils. There are regulars, Robert, the chap from Yale, Quentin, sly guy at Harvard and Carly, still at school the man believes, who's coquettish, fresh, these two want to have her but she's astute, knows just what she wants. They're all after her in fact. Every male in the room turns their head, can't blame them, she's like Candyfloss, all the men want a taste but there's not enough for everyone and they don't look like the sharing kind. The man in blue just grins to himself thinking how grand it is that he's single, sensible, secure.

0

Jun 4, 2012

Jun 4, 2012 at 10:27 AM UTC

reece-aj-chambers

Blue Candyfloss

The man decked in blue sits quite content on a sofa and observes wealthy offspring waltz in flashing their brilliant teeth glossed with potent peppermint. These teens don't know love, lust is all it is. While the Jazz bops away, more whisky is poured and they zip out to get jammy. The man, mid-twenties, kind of blue, dapper apparel, has one on the rocks. Sees them walk in most evenings, cute blondes with flawless skin, guys in suits, bow ties, the works, gaze into each other's pupils. There are regulars, Robert, the chap from Yale, Quentin, sly guy at Harvard and Carly, still at school the man believes, who's coquettish, fresh, these two want to have her but she's astute, knows just what she wants. They're all after her in fact. Every male in the room turns their head, can't blame them, she's like Candyfloss, all the men want a taste but there's not enough for everyone and they don't look like the sharing kind. The man in blue just grins to himself thinking how grand it is that he's single, sensible, secure.

40

Hopelessly romantic Yeah That's what I said I'm a kid who doesn't want to believe I'm the child who likes to live in a world A world where I know Cupid will come down & help out those in need Because love will be special again And there will be people that believe in love Instead of those that want to use those stereotypes of Bops and thugs They believe that's how people are supposed to act? There's no way that people will ever fall for someone like that By acting like that, we're just ruining our true selves The children that linger inside of us The romantic side that knows how to treat a lady A gentleman Whatever But no We want to destroy what others worked so hard to make We just let thugs rule the world We let them turn all of the future females into their ****** and bops Just for their own satisfaction We need to stop it We need to go back to the simple times Where we were hopelessly romantic No Where we knew we could get someone Instead of standing in the sidelines And just watching every lady pass us by for someone who would just hurt her I don't know But I think I would rather die than live in this world I would rather be nonexistent than try to become that which I argue against But that's just me saying what I truly believe in That's just me A true hopeless romantic

0

Apr 25, 2013

Apr 25, 2013 at 8:13 PM UTC

marschamp

Hopelessly Romantic

Hopelessly romantic Yeah That's what I said I'm a kid who doesn't want to believe I'm the child who likes to live in a world A world where I know Cupid will come down & help out those in need Because love will be special again And there will be people that believe in love Instead of those that want to use those stereotypes of Bops and thugs They believe that's how people are supposed to act? There's no way that people will ever fall for someone like that By acting like that, we're just ruining our true selves The children that linger inside of us The romantic side that knows how to treat a lady A gentleman Whatever But no We want to destroy what others worked so hard to make We just let thugs rule the world We let them turn all of the future females into their ****** and bops Just for their own satisfaction We need to stop it We need to go back to the simple times Where we were hopelessly romantic No Where we knew we could get someone Instead of standing in the sidelines And just watching every lady pass us by for someone who would just hurt her I don't know But I think I would rather die than live in this world I would rather be nonexistent than try to become that which I argue against But that's just me saying what I truly believe in That's just me A true hopeless romantic

35

Crick crack click clap snip snap on the concrete The city is on the move and to stand would be The slapstick comedy of stopping a treadmill. Acceleration animation gravitation from the rotation Apathetic friction that is devil-may-care like your heart Dragged down on the gym floor and the sweaty men laugh. Tick tock nonstop the clock hops and bops away the time Of the day and eternity seems like a fairy tale Because this era is neverneverland faith, we are young. And getting younger, we plan to die naked as we came, Lounging in retirement, the summer that knows no end. But sighing the dying are crying relying upon our move And we move past, this blur of momentum that the city has become, Because stillness is for the hippies and the natives and we are neither. Capitalistic colonial conquering captains of industry we charge Credit or debit because it isn't ours anyways and the bank is moving. Down the street in the heat can't beat the beat of the sweet treat That the homeless remember the memory of the taste of mercy. Like dogs in heat they pant and beg and we shake them off our pantleg Because it is designer and the label buys manhood cheap and sells it high. We split hit and quit and never commit because we spit words like blessing Out when we wash our mouths out every night and every morning Because it is the only way to get the taste out of your mouth when you wake up. As if the jacket I wear can't clothe a man from the cold or sell for more And my closet is lined with the clothes I don't remember to forget about wearing. It is not hate that congregates or abates the rate the weight is pulling me down, But fear of the immensity of impossibility colliding with reality inevitably, Because one man's sacrifice will suffice to pay the price of my vice. Yessir hearts are racing toward the first heart, we are collaborating. That the dying need not remain the dead but know life to the fullest. The poor and the sore need not abhor or war with the rush of the city. Because saints and saviors are not just bedtime stories as long as my life Has the power, no the will, no just the faith, all it needs is faith. The sick have been tricked that their wick runs quick Like crick crack click clack snip snap on the concrete These hearts are moving this city on a hill.

0

Mar 24, 2011

Mar 24, 2011 at 6:28 PM UTC

rory-hatchel

For the Beatniks

Crick crack click clap snip snap on the concrete The city is on the move and to stand would be The slapstick comedy of stopping a treadmill. Acceleration animation gravitation from the rotation Apathetic friction that is devil-may-care like your heart Dragged down on the gym floor and the sweaty men laugh. Tick tock nonstop the clock hops and bops away the time Of the day and eternity seems like a fairy tale Because this era is neverneverland faith, we are young. And getting younger, we plan to die naked as we came, Lounging in retirement, the summer that knows no end. But sighing the dying are crying relying upon our move And we move past, this blur of momentum that the city has become, Because stillness is for the hippies and the natives and we are neither. Capitalistic colonial conquering captains of industry we charge Credit or debit because it isn't ours anyways and the bank is moving. Down the street in the heat can't beat the beat of the sweet treat That the homeless remember the memory of the taste of mercy. Like dogs in heat they pant and beg and we shake them off our pantleg Because it is designer and the label buys manhood cheap and sells it high. We split hit and quit and never commit because we spit words like blessing Out when we wash our mouths out every night and every morning Because it is the only way to get the taste out of your mouth when you wake up. As if the jacket I wear can't clothe a man from the cold or sell for more And my closet is lined with the clothes I don't remember to forget about wearing. It is not hate that congregates or abates the rate the weight is pulling me down, But fear of the immensity of impossibility colliding with reality inevitably, Because one man's sacrifice will suffice to pay the price of my vice. Yessir hearts are racing toward the first heart, we are collaborating. That the dying need not remain the dead but know life to the fullest. The poor and the sore need not abhor or war with the rush of the city. Because saints and saviors are not just bedtime stories as long as my life Has the power, no the will, no just the faith, all it needs is faith. The sick have been tricked that their wick runs quick Like crick crack click clack snip snap on the concrete These hearts are moving this city on a hill.

36

Can we jam, brothers and sisters? Dare we meet at the impalpable chat room that exists beyond our third heaven? Dare we to speak in tongues and timbres, our skin taut across hollow shells, our veins strung across cadaverous bodies? I'll grab my drumsticks if you grab the guitars, and there's somebody on the bongos slappin' the skins with zealous fervor-- where my tambourine girls at? Don't worry, I haven't forgotten our forlorn hero sitting behind the keyboards-- Tickle me those ivories with pious hands and aching fingers, shake em down sweet Jerry Lee! And so we begin-- I lay down the drum beat that bops heads and scatters feet, and the bassman always on top of things slaps and slides and skips and sizzles hot diggity dog! I hear that sweet guitar scream and moan, praying for death under hazy lights and we all coast with eyes rolled back into our skulls and torpid lips drooped open over slack jaws. Not a word is said from a human voice, we speak through hands and feet, basking in colors eking from every kick drum stomp and the desperate wail bleeding from amplifiers. Feedback sings and screams, fighting the silence we taunt and hold at bay. Around every corner the colors trail coursing through our vesselious bodies propelled along the dizzying venture. We somehow spot every pothole and take detours, embarking down backroads and backalleys-- We can turn the wheel, but don't think for a moment we know where it's going. And the mirror's have all vanished, we know not from where we came. Someone shouts from the discovery as we exit a phrase to enter serendipity, toying with destiny, clay in our hands, stretching out the ****** perennially-- We laugh as the gods try to remind us we are Man. And the screams and the moans sensing the ****** is getting close so there's a crescendo I ramp up the tempo ahhhhhhhHHHhhhHhHhHhHHHHHhhhETERNITY IS NOW AND WE HOLD THE KEY TO HEAVENS GATES AND TIME STANDS STILL AT HIGH NOON IN THE TOWN'S SQUARE WHERE TRIGGER FINGERS TREMOR AND WE SPEAK TO GOD ON HIS PRIVATE CHANNEL COMING THROUGH WORN SPEAKERS CELESTIAL CREATURES IT WOULD BE SACRILEGE IF WE WEREN'T SUDDENLY SO HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY So I say again, brothers and sisters, can we jam? SO I SAY AGAIN, BROTHERS AND SISTERS, CAN WE JAM? SO I SAY AGAIN, BROTHERS AND SISTERS, CAN WE JAM? So I say again, brothers and sisters, can we jam?

0

Jul 10, 2016

Jul 10, 2016 at 12:39 AM UTC

jarjarrhine

Jam

Can we jam, brothers and sisters? Dare we meet at the impalpable chat room that exists beyond our third heaven? Dare we to speak in tongues and timbres, our skin taut across hollow shells, our veins strung across cadaverous bodies? I'll grab my drumsticks if you grab the guitars, and there's somebody on the bongos slappin' the skins with zealous fervor-- where my tambourine girls at? Don't worry, I haven't forgotten our forlorn hero sitting behind the keyboards-- Tickle me those ivories with pious hands and aching fingers, shake em down sweet Jerry Lee! And so we begin-- I lay down the drum beat that bops heads and scatters feet, and the bassman always on top of things slaps and slides and skips and sizzles hot diggity dog! I hear that sweet guitar scream and moan, praying for death under hazy lights and we all coast with eyes rolled back into our skulls and torpid lips drooped open over slack jaws. Not a word is said from a human voice, we speak through hands and feet, basking in colors eking from every kick drum stomp and the desperate wail bleeding from amplifiers. Feedback sings and screams, fighting the silence we taunt and hold at bay. Around every corner the colors trail coursing through our vesselious bodies propelled along the dizzying venture. We somehow spot every pothole and take detours, embarking down backroads and backalleys-- We can turn the wheel, but don't think for a moment we know where it's going. And the mirror's have all vanished, we know not from where we came. Someone shouts from the discovery as we exit a phrase to enter serendipity, toying with destiny, clay in our hands, stretching out the ****** perennially-- We laugh as the gods try to remind us we are Man. And the screams and the moans sensing the ****** is getting close so there's a crescendo I ramp up the tempo ahhhhhhhHHHhhhHhHhHhHHHHHhhhETERNITY IS NOW AND WE HOLD THE KEY TO HEAVENS GATES AND TIME STANDS STILL AT HIGH NOON IN THE TOWN'S SQUARE WHERE TRIGGER FINGERS TREMOR AND WE SPEAK TO GOD ON HIS PRIVATE CHANNEL COMING THROUGH WORN SPEAKERS CELESTIAL CREATURES IT WOULD BE SACRILEGE IF WE WEREN'T SUDDENLY SO HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY So I say again, brothers and sisters, can we jam? SO I SAY AGAIN, BROTHERS AND SISTERS, CAN WE JAM? SO I SAY AGAIN, BROTHERS AND SISTERS, CAN WE JAM? So I say again, brothers and sisters, can we jam?

56

Fluffy bunnies how sweet is that Hoppity hop in sweet candy land Butterflies dancing in the breeze Bluejays singing as happy as can be Oh my gosh ders dat nasty man Hunting wabbits oh let me be Then out of no where..pop...boom...bang An anvil and hammer bops nasty bad man Sniffing and eating....the grass merrily I watch carefully at dat nasty bad man Looks likes he is out for the rest of the day As I hop on merrily on my way to play In our fairy wonderful candy land

0

Jan 12, 2015

Jan 12, 2015 at 8:16 PM UTC

kaila-george

My Happy Poem ^.^

Fluffy bunnies how sweet is that Hoppity hop in sweet candy land Butterflies dancing in the breeze Bluejays singing as happy as can be Oh my gosh ders dat nasty man Hunting wabbits oh let me be Then out of no where..pop...boom...bang An anvil and hammer bops nasty bad man Sniffing and eating....the grass merrily I watch carefully at dat nasty bad man Looks likes he is out for the rest of the day As I hop on merrily on my way to play In our fairy wonderful candy land

13

"My name is Ligion , for we are many" Luke 8:30 Every Sunday we went to church Never really thinking what was it for Always wore our best shinny shoes ***** slacks , and who was it for After church we would always eat out Get lucky and have trout Almondine Spanish Mackerel fresh off the grill It always gave me a thrill Couldn't wait to jump out of those clothes Put on shorts and go outdoors Collect toads right about dark Put them in the bathtub Mother looked so stark Everything was going just fine Then we moved to the heart of Dixieland Home to more Bible Thumpers Than a toad bops his *** Told my ways must change Or I hadn't a chance So I was graced by the light of the Lord Baptized in the holiest of ghost Dwelt on a heavenly high But things changed for the worst In the by and by Once saved always saved say they That's not true oh by the way I fell into repute , became angry at all I no longer heard the voice Of God and his call I got worse , let evil come on in I became gaunt , more bone than skin An evil presence I projected like ***** People stepped back They didn't want any of it I was one ot the many I was surely destined for Hell But like a new copper penny Two sides are there to tell I was struck down And my ways were clipped My boat was cast out Someone had cut all my slips I floundered on the fast rising seas God had knocked me down onto my knees I remember you as a boy Captured toads and did so much more Then you changed and walked out of my door Have you ever even thought about Coming back for more You became evil , deep in wicked sin Over and over you sinned again You mocked me , my son And sacred holy of ghosts I ought to make you into Blackened burnt toast But I see one glimmer of hope If you return to your former post And repent , no need for forgiveness It's already spent , come now it's all for the best

0

May 27, 2015

May 27, 2015 at 8:35 PM UTC

South-by-Southwest

I am Re Ligion

"My name is Ligion , for we are many" Luke 8:30 Every Sunday we went to church Never really thinking what was it for Always wore our best shinny shoes ***** slacks , and who was it for After church we would always eat out Get lucky and have trout Almondine Spanish Mackerel fresh off the grill It always gave me a thrill Couldn't wait to jump out of those clothes Put on shorts and go outdoors Collect toads right about dark Put them in the bathtub Mother looked so stark Everything was going just fine Then we moved to the heart of Dixieland Home to more Bible Thumpers Than a toad bops his *** Told my ways must change Or I hadn't a chance So I was graced by the light of the Lord Baptized in the holiest of ghost Dwelt on a heavenly high But things changed for the worst In the by and by Once saved always saved say they That's not true oh by the way I fell into repute , became angry at all I no longer heard the voice Of God and his call I got worse , let evil come on in I became gaunt , more bone than skin An evil presence I projected like ***** People stepped back They didn't want any of it I was one ot the many I was surely destined for Hell But like a new copper penny Two sides are there to tell I was struck down And my ways were clipped My boat was cast out Someone had cut all my slips I floundered on the fast rising seas God had knocked me down onto my knees I remember you as a boy Captured toads and did so much more Then you changed and walked out of my door Have you ever even thought about Coming back for more You became evil , deep in wicked sin Over and over you sinned again You mocked me , my son And sacred holy of ghosts I ought to make you into Blackened burnt toast But I see one glimmer of hope If you return to your former post And repent , no need for forgiveness It's already spent , come now it's all for the best

61

Sweet little eyes black and shiny. Curious with my work, he's chirpy. Hops and bops about, I trace a smile. Beak, now agape, sings for a while. 'Rotund little Robin won't you dance some more?'. 'Skipping and pipping upon the forest floor'. 'Red little tummy containing your words'. 'Lost on my human ears, yet not unheard'. 'Little Robin, so happy, why am i not so?' On little Robin I focus, my mind is sewn "Be happy with your job" says Robin "And fret you not of my boppin'" "There's work must be done so dont you be a'stoppin'!" "Though i might flutter from twig onto branch" "My home is left decided by human chance" "Should we build here or should we build there" "Words of men against Robin, no matter how fair" "Sweet little song you qualify my shouts?" "Without ever considering what they're really about?" "All I've ever seen of humans is their louts" "So this boppin' Robin needs a'helpin' out" "I see in thee good it is true" "Hope; that never shall you see green land in gloom" "Yet in back of your mind i see thoughts of doom" Robin flutters away and I am left to wonder. Should I leave this world now will I be thought of fonder?

0

Mar 13, 2018

Mar 13, 2018 at 5:09 PM UTC

Mrhdoran

The Robin

Sweet little eyes black and shiny. Curious with my work, he's chirpy. Hops and bops about, I trace a smile. Beak, now agape, sings for a while. 'Rotund little Robin won't you dance some more?'. 'Skipping and pipping upon the forest floor'. 'Red little tummy containing your words'. 'Lost on my human ears, yet not unheard'. 'Little Robin, so happy, why am i not so?' On little Robin I focus, my mind is sewn "Be happy with your job" says Robin "And fret you not of my boppin'" "There's work must be done so dont you be a'stoppin'!" "Though i might flutter from twig onto branch" "My home is left decided by human chance" "Should we build here or should we build there" "Words of men against Robin, no matter how fair" "Sweet little song you qualify my shouts?" "Without ever considering what they're really about?" "All I've ever seen of humans is their louts" "So this boppin' Robin needs a'helpin' out" "I see in thee good it is true" "Hope; that never shall you see green land in gloom" "Yet in back of your mind i see thoughts of doom" Robin flutters away and I am left to wonder. Should I leave this world now will I be thought of fonder?

26

I love you but I leave you. I cant stand you. but I need you. when you kiss me, My stomach does whirlly bops all around yet when i kiss you youre as calm at a bat. Its like im your pure happiness im your ****** but you never forfill that high youre searching for the high you got when you first kissed me. But then i start to wonder If you ever miss me.

0

Jan 22, 2014

Jan 22, 2014 at 8:23 PM UTC

kelly-6

confusion.

I love you but I leave you. I cant stand you. but I need you. when you kiss me, My stomach does whirlly bops all around yet when i kiss you youre as calm at a bat. Its like im your pure happiness im your ****** but you never forfill that high youre searching for the high you got when you first kissed me. But then i start to wonder If you ever miss me.

13

Two bros converged into a fellowhood And stoked to share their Fight Club quotes And be two broskis, juiced they stood, And shotgunned PBRs, long as they could, till they were wrecked in a sweet-ass boat Then proclaimed the bros, into the air, “Turn on the flatscreen, let’s watch the game”, it was Saturday so the day was theirs; and as they sat in their folding chairs, the smell of axe the air became And clad in their Costas they loudly played a song no bro’s cracked iPhone lacks. Oh, they know their bops like they know their whey! They smelled their teen spirits and exhaled away, JUUL clouds of fruit flavors with swag densely packed. There is no replacing these two guys and their dudely jockish fashion sense. Two bros converged as two would, and aye- They forged the path bros travel by, a path of bliss and ignorance.

0

Sep 16, 2019

Sep 16, 2019 at 12:09 PM UTC

austinjhunt

the bronnection not shaken

Two bros converged into a fellowhood And stoked to share their Fight Club quotes And be two broskis, juiced they stood, And shotgunned PBRs, long as they could, till they were wrecked in a sweet-ass boat Then proclaimed the bros, into the air, “Turn on the flatscreen, let’s watch the game”, it was Saturday so the day was theirs; and as they sat in their folding chairs, the smell of axe the air became And clad in their Costas they loudly played a song no bro’s cracked iPhone lacks. Oh, they know their bops like they know their whey! They smelled their teen spirits and exhaled away, JUUL clouds of fruit flavors with swag densely packed. There is no replacing these two guys and their dudely jockish fashion sense. Two bros converged as two would, and aye- They forged the path bros travel by, a path of bliss and ignorance.

20

She kept a vigil by the bedside. Watching him sleeping. In silence she sits. Save for the beeps and bops of forced whistling air. She adored all of him still. He was just hanging in there. She perched on a swinging rocking chair. Spoke to him now and again, poor thing. She sang to him as he battled. Fought with the deepest side of the sandman. She touched his hand once again. The room lit up with lights of gold. Rolling rainbows. There he goes. Go forth into the light good sir. Permission given. Now it's time to be bold. At the foot of his slumber spot. An angel dressed not in white, but royal blue came to collect him. She played a serenade to him upon a silvery horn. She dwindled in the atmosphere. Amidst the flurry of whizzing trolleys. The doors flew open. A team of magic folks, not fairies, stole his heart and gave it to another. Liver and kidneys not far behind. His woman cried and sighed. Kisses him softly, bids him goodbye. He didn't respond, he no longer could. Passed quietly over, did her lost lover. All donations gratefully received. She took it much better than friends had perceived. She rolled her wedding ring. Walked out sad but proud. As raindrops and sunshine fell from the cloud. Up came the rainbow, silently loud. (c)Livvi

0

Sep 13, 2015

Sep 13, 2015 at 9:54 AM UTC

olivia-kent

SIGNIFICANT SANDMAN

She kept a vigil by the bedside. Watching him sleeping. In silence she sits. Save for the beeps and bops of forced whistling air. She adored all of him still. He was just hanging in there. She perched on a swinging rocking chair. Spoke to him now and again, poor thing. She sang to him as he battled. Fought with the deepest side of the sandman. She touched his hand once again. The room lit up with lights of gold. Rolling rainbows. There he goes. Go forth into the light good sir. Permission given. Now it's time to be bold. At the foot of his slumber spot. An angel dressed not in white, but royal blue came to collect him. She played a serenade to him upon a silvery horn. She dwindled in the atmosphere. Amidst the flurry of whizzing trolleys. The doors flew open. A team of magic folks, not fairies, stole his heart and gave it to another. Liver and kidneys not far behind. His woman cried and sighed. Kisses him softly, bids him goodbye. He didn't respond, he no longer could. Passed quietly over, did her lost lover. All donations gratefully received. She took it much better than friends had perceived. She rolled her wedding ring. Walked out sad but proud. As raindrops and sunshine fell from the cloud. Up came the rainbow, silently loud. (c)Livvi

36

Ageing Ageing is the strangest ****** phenomenon. It’s sneaky, going ‘long With universe’s basic law of change. We hate it cause we cannot change the change With choice, with voice in matters Dealing with each atom looming over time. You watch a documentary of a famous person you once loved. What you see is change or interchange. Voice now gravely, hairs now straggly, Mind not gaga (maybe), But the teeth, fat, skin itself deranged. It’s all so strange. Invisible the first half century, (If you’ve been so lucky) Then they come: the boom of bombs begun in womb. The stealthy hum of failing health a-zooming in, The forms of everything you took for granted Changed from light to odium Enchanted idioms of youth now faint or quaint. And the damnedest twist of all Besides what’s going on outside, Visible and tactile, Is that life has lied. You thought it stretched ahead forever, That it never stopped And then you’re bopped on your old head: You’re dead. One’s left to speculate and ponder Where does life go on from here? Where and if… Ageing 9.11.2018 Birth, Death & In Between III; Nature Of & In Reality; Circling Round Reality; Arlene Nover Corwin I’m often asked by readers whose native language is not English. Here are a few words of which they might like to know the meaning: odium; general or widespread hatred or disgust incurred by someone as a result of their actions: tactile; of or connected with the sense of touch: vocal and visual signals bop; verb (bops, bopping, bopped) [with object] hit or punch quickly: Rex bopped him on the head

0

Sep 11, 2018

Sep 11, 2018 at 6:38 AM UTC

arlene-corwin

Ageing

Ageing Ageing is the strangest ****** phenomenon. It’s sneaky, going ‘long With universe’s basic law of change. We hate it cause we cannot change the change With choice, with voice in matters Dealing with each atom looming over time. You watch a documentary of a famous person you once loved. What you see is change or interchange. Voice now gravely, hairs now straggly, Mind not gaga (maybe), But the teeth, fat, skin itself deranged. It’s all so strange. Invisible the first half century, (If you’ve been so lucky) Then they come: the boom of bombs begun in womb. The stealthy hum of failing health a-zooming in, The forms of everything you took for granted Changed from light to odium Enchanted idioms of youth now faint or quaint. And the damnedest twist of all Besides what’s going on outside, Visible and tactile, Is that life has lied. You thought it stretched ahead forever, That it never stopped And then you’re bopped on your old head: You’re dead. One’s left to speculate and ponder Where does life go on from here? Where and if… Ageing 9.11.2018 Birth, Death & In Between III; Nature Of & In Reality; Circling Round Reality; Arlene Nover Corwin I’m often asked by readers whose native language is not English. Here are a few words of which they might like to know the meaning: odium; general or widespread hatred or disgust incurred by someone as a result of their actions: tactile; of or connected with the sense of touch: vocal and visual signals bop; verb (bops, bopping, bopped) [with object] hit or punch quickly: Rex bopped him on the head

36

I'm not dead. I'm just not living yet, and that's scary, 'init? The peeps, beeps, bops, and sch-loops of life gnaw at my head, warning me that silence is unattainable, and noise is everywhere. When I was young, I tried to be the loudest thing in my environment, tried to scream louder then the muffled yelling downstairs, tried to cry till my face became a distorted mess, and tears come easier than a smile. When I was young, I wanted to be anyone else, to run away, to hide from it all, I wasn't content with my sub-par, if even that, lot in life... Now, I cry my heart out, and leave my lungs to rest, my whole body has become that distorted mess, my smile is so easy, it discards the tears, till I'm left alone with my fears. The yelling is clearer, for it was always me, fighting with... Myself.

0

Feb 15, 2020

Feb 15, 2020 at 9:29 AM UTC

Pukwudgie

my Heart hurt while writing this.

I'm not dead. I'm just not living yet, and that's scary, 'init? The peeps, beeps, bops, and sch-loops of life gnaw at my head, warning me that silence is unattainable, and noise is everywhere. When I was young, I tried to be the loudest thing in my environment, tried to scream louder then the muffled yelling downstairs, tried to cry till my face became a distorted mess, and tears come easier than a smile. When I was young, I wanted to be anyone else, to run away, to hide from it all, I wasn't content with my sub-par, if even that, lot in life... Now, I cry my heart out, and leave my lungs to rest, my whole body has become that distorted mess, my smile is so easy, it discards the tears, till I'm left alone with my fears. The yelling is clearer, for it was always me, fighting with... Myself.

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