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"cheekiest" poems
Once upon a time in an alternate universe not too long ago I met the cheekiest babe from the other side of the world. She went by Smurfette, she loved to call me Papa Smurf and Vanity wasn’t gay, the ******* just loved himself too much. She always sat by the window, detoxicating herself of verses cranking out a few lyrics, scoping the city in the trenches. Of the love we waged never wavering and waving a white flag “I’m gonna put you to bed” were all our wars went to die. But I was more than alive, inside the land from down under called her Daphne the Nymph, the voluptuous Greek Goddess. Wanted to raise little Koalas together in our Kangaroo farm in every kiss we traded souls, in every breath we lost our lives. And we gained them again back when the Jitneys were blue our sweat-drenched bodies overtaken by some strange voodoo. Every ship we embarked on was lost in the Atlantic without return James Bean captained our vessel, holding it together with crazy glue. In New York City locked lips inside a phone booth, it was euphoria she was already born a Queen since she hailed from Astoria. Our Bohemian Rhapsody blended like Cheech & Chong on a ****** her pouty lips, ****** smile, five years later how can I forget her? Her voice, beautiful sparrow, vocal chords stone carved like no other and yet normally speaking she sounded like the Crocodile Hunter Soaked the landscape of her essence, remembrance without a beat the song she wrote about us, plays in my heart eternally on repeat.
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Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 12:23 PM UTC
Aussie
Once upon a time in an alternate universe not too long ago I met the cheekiest babe from the other side of the world. She went by Smurfette, she loved to call me Papa Smurf and Vanity wasn’t gay, the ******* just loved himself too much. She always sat by the window, detoxicating herself of verses cranking out a few lyrics, scoping the city in the trenches. Of the love we waged never wavering and waving a white flag “I’m gonna put you to bed” were all our wars went to die. But I was more than alive, inside the land from down under called her Daphne the Nymph, the voluptuous Greek Goddess. Wanted to raise little Koalas together in our Kangaroo farm in every kiss we traded souls, in every breath we lost our lives. And we gained them again back when the Jitneys were blue our sweat-drenched bodies overtaken by some strange voodoo. Every ship we embarked on was lost in the Atlantic without return James Bean captained our vessel, holding it together with crazy glue. In New York City locked lips inside a phone booth, it was euphoria she was already born a Queen since she hailed from Astoria. Our Bohemian Rhapsody blended like Cheech & Chong on a ****** her pouty lips, ****** smile, five years later how can I forget her? Her voice, beautiful sparrow, vocal chords stone carved like no other and yet normally speaking she sounded like the Crocodile Hunter Soaked the landscape of her essence, remembrance without a beat the song she wrote about us, plays in my heart eternally on repeat.
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24
“but you Nat, are a grown *** Hebrew man so I shall not attempt  to advise you to do otherwise.” <> been notified, identified, blessed and cursed, alotta of different ways, but late at night, arrives a new coronation forthright, about my all grownup ageist stay-tus & my ancient birthright and I’m-athinking that as compliments go, that’s quite a right-on complementary to my actuality, so not bad, tho all-I’d-add is maybe, old school fool too, & do appreciate that this observation comes with added cherry on top, I’m finally old enough to make it ok to make mistakes, and a hardy thanks that the words hard and lard din’t appear when mentioning my cheekiest feature... 10:28pm nyc in downtown lockdown
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Apr 27, 2020
Apr 27, 2020 at 10:30 PM UTC
a grown *** Hebrew man
~~~ when between the table and the fridge, she wishes to pass, and I, obstacle roundly present, am alerted by a gentle squeeze of my *** happily acknowledging the purposed duality of her **cheekiest, sweetest, signal given** ~~~ a food array presented, paprika colored roasted chicken, spaghetti squash salted, salad with cranberries, candy walnuts, even raisins hidden within and all before me placed she objects little, with eyes silent uplifted like two pie rollers in striking position, when I commence to sup, with my just dessert of apple crisp, that by coming first, is grandly philosophized, that today, "the last shall be first" ~~~ she wakes me prematurely, her only cause, the intruding concept of her successfully doing the telling, first one to win the everyday claiming race, the first to say on this day, I love you foremost and also, "haha I win" **** it** ~~~ miscreant me, happy loafer, habitual offender of other things that the censors here, would not permit explicitly disclosing, for which she looks wise away, mumbling only "half of his addiction to cinnamon raisin loaf, still, far, far, better than none" ~~~ I know she loves me cause: 1) she likes unfailingly every one of my poems (a half truth) 2) she loves best, faithfully, those she loves the best, that are the ones that release, without permission asked, those that come with a side of tissues, at the ready, to be emergency issued those tissues I call, the ladies-in-waiting for the gentlest stream of tears
0
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 6:00 PM UTC
five for fighting (or loving)
~~~ when between the table and the fridge, she wishes to pass, and I, obstacle roundly present, am alerted by a gentle squeeze of my *** happily acknowledging the purposed duality of her **cheekiest, sweetest, signal given** ~~~ a food array presented, paprika colored roasted chicken, spaghetti squash salted, salad with cranberries, candy walnuts, even raisins hidden within and all before me placed she objects little, with eyes silent uplifted like two pie rollers in striking position, when I commence to sup, with my just dessert of apple crisp, that by coming first, is grandly philosophized, that today, "the last shall be first" ~~~ she wakes me prematurely, her only cause, the intruding concept of her successfully doing the telling, first one to win the everyday claiming race, the first to say on this day, I love you foremost and also, "haha I win" **** it** ~~~ miscreant me, happy loafer, habitual offender of other things that the censors here, would not permit explicitly disclosing, for which she looks wise away, mumbling only "half of his addiction to cinnamon raisin loaf, still, far, far, better than none" ~~~ I know she loves me cause: 1) she likes unfailingly every one of my poems (a half truth) 2) she loves best, faithfully, those she loves the best, that are the ones that release, without permission asked, those that come with a side of tissues, at the ready, to be emergency issued those tissues I call, the ladies-in-waiting for the gentlest stream of tears
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62
Every night, I lie in bed and think of her, her lost eyes My heart cries as I see her sitting alone Staring vacantly out the window at the bird feeder The bitter truth is The things she forgets are the banal moments Her days have become groundhog, so is it so bad to not realise that she is in that cycle? The things that matter she still remembers The time when she was 8 and had laughter with passing soldiers Playing pranks on those same soldiers with the cheeky grin that’s never left her When she nearly ended up in Canada to stay safe Sharing sweets with the best friend she loved and lost She remembers mum when she was just a foot tall She remembers me when I could only utter the odd word She remembers my brother when he had the cheekiest grin, and the brightest laugh She may even remember better than we all do Its funny how that works Laughter is the best medicine she tells me This is something I now believe wholeheartedly As every time I see her I see it in action She makes me laugh She helps me understand life She respects me She builds me up Strength, endless strength Smile, the smile it never leaves her Leaving her breaks me, But seeing her break, hurts me. Reality, she isn’t broken Just stuck on the rewind button She’s still here She’s still with me She’s one of the lucky ones I’m one of the lucky ones We’re one of the lucky ones People ask how is she doing? I simply answer she is in a battle against groundhog day, And get this she is winning.
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Apr 25, 2021
Apr 25, 2021 at 8:15 AM UTC
Defying Groundhog Day
Every night, I lie in bed and think of her, her lost eyes My heart cries as I see her sitting alone Staring vacantly out the window at the bird feeder The bitter truth is The things she forgets are the banal moments Her days have become groundhog, so is it so bad to not realise that she is in that cycle? The things that matter she still remembers The time when she was 8 and had laughter with passing soldiers Playing pranks on those same soldiers with the cheeky grin that’s never left her When she nearly ended up in Canada to stay safe Sharing sweets with the best friend she loved and lost She remembers mum when she was just a foot tall She remembers me when I could only utter the odd word She remembers my brother when he had the cheekiest grin, and the brightest laugh She may even remember better than we all do Its funny how that works Laughter is the best medicine she tells me This is something I now believe wholeheartedly As every time I see her I see it in action She makes me laugh She helps me understand life She respects me She builds me up Strength, endless strength Smile, the smile it never leaves her Leaving her breaks me, But seeing her break, hurts me. Reality, she isn’t broken Just stuck on the rewind button She’s still here She’s still with me She’s one of the lucky ones I’m one of the lucky ones We’re one of the lucky ones People ask how is she doing? I simply answer she is in a battle against groundhog day, And get this she is winning.
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36
Busy busy busy, always on red alert, your the cheekiest little flirt. Eyes dark as the night & hair so fair. I have known you now since just over one year ago. You take me to the limit, you take me to the edge, full on determination,  causing me much strife ..... what can I do? what should I do ? ...... I do love you ........ when your tired at night, lifeless limbs give up the fight. Your snuggled up tight & everything seems just right. A breathing ball of warm delight. Tingle Tangle Tango Quango, sweet as a ripened mango Cunning as a fox Black eyes peeking through ginger/fair locks. Cheeky Scampering,darting, running, hiding, jumping, bouncing through the dunes, splaaaaaaaashing through puddles muddied caked paws, my four legged furry friend who loves her cuddles. Your the cheekiest little chimp & everyones friend darting to & fro, your wild running loose & free forever searching out the tip of an endless horizon. My little buddy, I must let you go ....
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Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 7:13 PM UTC
Operation Tango