"coze" poems
It’s OK to tell a secret
to a dolphin or a seal,
but a pig cannot be trusted,
for a pig will always squeal!
You cannot trust a potato
It will only tell them lies
Some secrets they are mean that’s why an onion cries
I may tell one to max
Or fife or bob But I’ll never tell a teacher to tell you off
Is her job
But when comes to animals
Tell a dolphin or a seal but
Whatever you do
Do not tell a pig coze they will only sequel
But secrets are mean they heart some ant true
So when you tell a secret imagine its about you
Mar 31, 2012
Mar 31, 2012 at 6:02 AM UTC
I strolled through
A library. T’was as abandoned
In the hands of time
As the proverbial Ozymandias.
It guarded a wealth of knowledge
Under each leather wrapped parchment
Like a pearl inside an oyster, just
Not under Adam’s ale.
One of them, as abandoned as the former
Stared at me, sitting in a
Coze on the floor.
‘Mommy!’ it cried
In such a desperate and helpless manner.
Instantaneously bonded I with it.
It was one akin to a mother and her child
Fragile, yet quite unbreakable.
All this in a book.
Words I have not to say
About that fervid day
And how etched it is.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 11:33 AM UTC
everything was to change
it was the nature
one describe
as a comfortable coze
far and away
there's no more beautiful
Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 4:27 AM UTC
It was a late midnight
and the radium stars on the ceiling wall were shining bright.
The wheather was pleasant,
the aura was warm.
I was sleeping with Noddy, in my arms.
Then A sudden heaviness in my head
broke my sleep
The pain was growing so steep
That I couldn't get up.
I tried to drub
but Some thing was pulling me in my bed.
I could feel something leak
out of my nose.
It was blood , spurting out
flinging the coze.
Severe nosebleeds,
was a common symptom
of my disease.
But this one was differing,
My nose was blistering.
I knew it cause I've had many before
But this time my throat became sore
And soon i lost all control over my nose,
All I could do was doze.
My mind, I tried to divert,
So I looked for Noddy,
his cap was as red as his shirt.
Then I tried to call for aid
But by now not just my head
also my arms and legs
heftly weighed.
The pain was only growing more,
worse, than ever before.
It was as if the red water was flooding,
Unstoppably my nose was bleeding
Then with a sudden strangeness,
something leashed my lungs
Now I was breathless.
I don't wanna a die, I wanna play with my dolls,
I spoke to the dream catcher ,
That hung on the wall.
I was ailing and weak
my vission was turning bleak.
Soon i was left with none.
All I feared, was oblivion.
Jun 16, 2020
Jun 16, 2020 at 3:52 AM UTC
My favorite season
is the bite of the wind as it brushes your cheeks.
It's the cushioning of a purposeful fall.
It's the muted gray skies and the hush of the world.
It's the crunch of the frozen fractals that support and keep you from falling in.
My favorite season
is the echoes of voices bouncing from the trees,
the only sounds to be heard.
It's the coze of a warm drink and the crackles and pops of the fireplace.
My favorite season is the temporary loss of visible life
until only by my favorite season's death
does the world start to breathe once again.
Apr 9, 2020
Apr 9, 2020 at 12:39 PM UTC