"deary" poems
With gentle cheeky smiles and cheery cheers,
You endeared yourself to your deary dears,
My jealousy rose up like the towering tiers,
of classic wedding cake infused with beers,
Drunk even more in love without you here,
Us becoming strangers made me shed tears,
Somehow your babbling is a delight to hear,
But you're getting far away, not even near.
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 5:28 AM UTC
Deary deary give me your toe to ****
I'm half crazy my mind is running muck
I can't afford a foot spa
but love to hear you ooh awww
cause your two feet
taste oh so sweet
between these lips that I love to puck
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 7:19 AM UTC
Love, is it the way you make me feel
Like you’re the only thing that’s real.
Is it the softness of your eyes,
Never telling me lies.
That soft brown glow
Oh, how it shows.
You’re the one who always cares
When all the world can do, is stop and stare.
You’re the one who’s there for me
When others just won’t let me be.
The guys who came, the guys who past
You’re the one that always lasts.
Through death, through life
You’ve helped through strife.
You’ve been here all the while.
Stopping those tears and making me smile.
Giving me one last chance, one breath more
Keeping me from my internal war.
Till night, my deary
My love. My Friend. My beary.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 11:22 AM UTC
In rows like crumpled paper set,
The way one might design a brooch,
There sets a sparkle down so purely
Capital, beyond reproach and sure
She is the blackest flea who sits
Upon an old green dog, now should
You query, her name's a pond. In Gaelic
It's pronounced: Baile Átha Cliath—
But in Irish she's plain, mightily named,
Dublin. Where broods the dove, linnet
And swan. Now take them pi'jons, they got
Dank habits and linnets lament the silent
Stones. Sure, the goose gave out and took
To the air, but the swans, they've landed,
To roost, enchanted as 'Children of Lir,'
And so becomes a changeling child's
Fair city, for in her anointed proximity,
Gracious white birds do bathe and molt,
Supplied as I can tell, she looks black-
Pooled in clusters, long side her creases.
Stout nectar flows in near every nook
And cranny, but yer man, he's never
Busy, that malty fish, daftly avoids,
Swimming spirals round like buggies
Do on petals, he'd rather grace gardens
By drinking their dew. O Dublin town,
She wends her ways and rows her houses
Round-a-bout on cobbled shores in tribute
To sprite, deary and fey, Anna Livia—
Who like a stem of blood, stabs right
To the heart of Dublin Bay— and proud
As a crowned thorny, who once had reeked,
She's bloomed large, into one grandeous
Beauty, like a céilí so finely fiddled—
A sandy, spirited, bombastic beach-
Flower, she is, a flag so fitting upon
The doons. In dream, I flocked to her
Like the wild geese and saw her coy'd
Repose and there I spied, from mackerel
Skies— one monstrous, Irish rose!
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 2:07 PM UTC
Goodnight my lovely deary
Living, lively, love I'll kiss your head
Good my soul so dearly
Lap my life and make me less dead
Good God my soul, so nearly
Leave a legend of life-built beds...
Goodbye my only, barely
Made a bed of dead straw and heads.
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 10:51 PM UTC
In rows like crumpled paper set,
The way one might design a brooch,
There sets a sparkle down so purely
Capital, beyond reproach and sure
She is the blackest flea who sits
Upon an old green dog, now should
You query, her name's a pond. In Gaelic
It's pronounced: Baile Átha Cliath—
But in Irish she's plain, mightily named,
Dublin. Where broods the dove, linnet
And swan. Now take them pi'jons, they got
Dank habits and linnets lament the silent
Stones. Sure, the goose gave out and took
To the air, but the swans, they've landed,
To roost, enchanted as 'Children of Lir,'
And so becomes a changeling child's
Fair city, for in her anointed proximity,
Gracious white birds do bathe and molt,
Supplied as I can tell, she looks black-
Pooled in clusters, long side her creases.
Stout nectar flows in near every nook
And cranny, but yer man, he's never
Busy, that malty fish, daftly avoids,
Swimming spirals round like buggies
Do on petals, he'd rather grace gardens
By drinking their dew. O Dublin town,
She wends her ways and rows her houses
Round-a-bout on cobbled shores in tribute
To sprite, deary and fey, Anna Livia—
Who like a stem of blood, stabs right
To the heart of Dublin Bay— and proud
As a crowned thorny, who once had reeked,
She's bloomed large, into one grandeous
Beauty, like a céilí so finely fiddled—
A sandy, spirited, bombastic beach-
Flower, she is, a flag so fitting upon
The doons. In dream, I flocked to her
Like the wild geese and saw her coy'd
Repose and there I spied, from mackerel
Skies— one monstrous, Irish rose!
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 8:11 PM UTC
Sentimental emotions needs to be shared
Down at your little throne I glared
I danced I frowned I smiled Oh silly jester of the court..
You only see a face of a fool! oh deary, please allow me to retort.
I make the masses smile all the time my dear
Why can't you see this jester's love appear?
I juggle knives and flames for your amusement.
Oh truly I do shrug in fear and in torment.
/Hush little darling don't you frown
This little jester will be your clown
All he wants to do is to see you smile
All he wants to do is laugh for awhile
This psychopathic love that I have for you
Would only be the beginning of our story for two.
The jester smiles and the crowd goes nuts
Alas the princess is with me but the pain still cuts/
Let the jester make you the grandest ball of them all
Let your lover make you twirl round and round in this ball
Let the crowd know this love that I held in the end
A jester to a lover what a sweet sweet blend
HaHaHaHaHaHa says the jester gone mad
How could this fairy tale got so wrong and bad
The jester hacks and slashes oh he is excited
For my sweet deary all things should be dead.
I thank the world for what it gave my heart
Sadly a jester can only do much it rips him apart
He can only make people smile and more is too much.
Bodies everywhere my love pulseless, inside the jester he only laughed a bunch.
Oct 11, 2017
Oct 11, 2017 at 3:53 PM UTC
In rows like crumpled paper set,
The way one might design a brooch,
There sets a sparkle down so purely
Capital, beyond reproach and sure
She is the blackest flea who sits
Upon an old green dog, now should
You query, her name's a pond. In Gaelic
It's pronounced: Baile Átha Cliath—
But in Irish she's plain, mightily named,
Dublin. Where broods the dove, linnet
And swan. Now take them pi'jons, they got
Dank habits and linnets lament the silent
Stones. Sure, the goose gave out and took
To the air, but the swans, they've landed,
To roost, enchanted as 'Children of Lir,'
And so becomes a changeling child's
Fair city, for in her anointed proximity,
Gracious white birds do bathe and molt,
Supplied as I can tell, she looks black-
Pooled in clusters, long side her creases.
Stout nectar flows in near every nook
And cranny, but yer man, he's never
Busy, that malty fish, daftly avoids,
Swimming spirals round like buggies
Do on petals, he'd rather grace gardens
By drinking their dew. O Dublin town,
She wends her ways and rows her houses
Round-a-bout on cobbled shores in tribute
To sprite, deary and fey, Anna Livia—
Who like a stem of blood, stabs right
To the heart of Dublin Bay— and proud
As a crowned thorny, who once had reeked,
She's bloomed large, into one grandeous
Beauty, like a céilí so finely fiddled—
A sandy, spirited, bombastic beach-
Flower, she is, a flag so fitting upon
The doons. In dream, I flocked to her
Like the wild geese and saw her coy'd
Repose and there I spied, from mackerel
Skies— one monstrous, Irish rose!
Sep 30, 2012
Sep 30, 2012 at 3:36 PM UTC
You’re a good man, Charlie Brown.
You just confuse me
Cause when your good you are oh so good
But when your better you throw me
And I say the things you want to hear
Which isn’t always good or true.
Your words are bigger and longer
Than any one I know
You’re oh so smart and loyal
Just please sit down while you speak
Cause when you start pacing my brain goes racing
And it’s my words that lose their feet.
But I love you dearly, deary
And you say you love me too.
But when you come running
And the football goes tumbling
Its cause my brain kicked it too.
Nov 10, 2009
Nov 10, 2009 at 9:36 PM UTC
In rows like crumpled paper set,
The way one might design a brooch,
There sets a sparkle down so purely
Capital, beyond reproach and sure
She is the blackest flea who sits
Upon an old green dog, now should
You query, her name's a pond. In Gaelic
It's pronounced: Baile Átha Cliath—
But in Irish she's plain, mightily named,
Dublin. Where broods the dove, linnet
And swan. Now take them pi'jons, they got
Dank habits and linnets lament the silent
Stones. Sure, the goose gave out and took
To the air, but the swans, they've landed,
To roost, enchanted as 'Children of Lir,'
And so becomes a changeling child's
Fair city, for in her anointed proximity,
Gracious white birds do bathe and molt,
Supplied as I can tell, she looks black-
Pooled in clusters, long side her creases.
Stout nectar flows in near every nook
And cranny, but yer man, he's never
Busy, that malty fish, daftly avoids,
Swimming spirals round like buggies
Do on petals, he'd rather grace gardens
By drinking their dew. O Dublin town,
She wends her ways and rows her houses
Round-a-bout on cobbled shores in tribute
To sprite, deary and fey, Anna Livia—
Who like a stem of blood, stabs right
To the heart of Dublin Bay— and proud
As a crowned thorny, who once had reeked,
She's bloomed large, into one grandeous
Beauty, like a céilí so finely fiddled—
A sandy, spirited, bombastic beach-
Flower, she is, a flag so fitting upon
The doons. In dream, I flocked to her
Like the wild geese and saw her coy'd
Repose and there I spied, from mackerel
Skies— one monstrous, Irish rose!
Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 12:31 PM UTC
The sun is so fiery, the Sun is so wild !!
Look at the Moon , it is so deary and mild !!
The Sun burns itself to spread warmth and embrace,
The Moon sparkles with borrowed light to softly caress !!
The Sun gives light and the Sun gives life,
The Moon builds romanticism to bring a new life !!
The Sun gives you power to overcome the fear,
The Moon is your best friend when at night you shed a drop of tear !!
The Sun and the Moon in the sky are never together
but they are like distant lovers who madly love eachother forever !!
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 10:29 AM UTC
In rows like crumpled paper set,
The way one might design a brooch,
There sets a sparkle down so purely
Capital, beyond reproach and sure
She is the blackest flea who sits
Upon an old green dog, now should
You query, her name's a pond. In Gaelic
It's pronounced: Baile Átha Cliath—
But in Irish she's plain, mightily named,
Dublin. Where broods the dove, linnet
And swan. Now take them pi'jons, they got
Dank habits and linnets lament the silent
Stones. Sure, the goose gave out and took
To the air, but the swans, they've landed,
To roost, enchanted as 'Children of Lir,'
And so becomes a changeling child's
Fair city, for in her anointed proximity,
Gracious white birds do bathe and molt,
Supplied as I can tell, she looks black-
Pooled in clusters, long side her creases.
Stout nectar flows in near every nook
And cranny, but yer man, he's never
Busy, that malty fish, daftly avoids,
Swimming spirals round like buggies
Do on petals, he'd rather grace gardens
By drinking their dew. O Dublin town,
She wends her ways and rows her houses
Round-a-bout on cobbled shores in tribute
To sprite, deary and fey, Anna Livia—
Who like a stem of blood, stabs right
To the heart of Dublin Bay— and proud
As a crowned thorny, who once had reeked,
She's bloomed large, into one grandeous
Beauty, like a céilí so finely fiddled—
A sandy, spirited, bombastic beach-
Flower, she is, a flag so fitting upon
The doons. In dream, I flocked to her
Like the wild geese and saw her coy'd
Repose and there I spied, from mackerel
Skies— one monstrous, Irish rose!
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 2:49 PM UTC
"Are you a ***** girl"
Your question continues to scroll through my mind.
I once wasn't.
I was the poster child for innocence.
But now, now is different.
My mind can't help but wander,
Thinking about your hands on me,
What they could do to me.
Thinking about your lips on mine,
Or on my body.
I want to know your touch,
Your kiss,
How would you feel inside me.
Yes deary, I want you.
"Are you a ***** girl?"
Yes.
Would you like to become a ***** boy?
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 12:03 PM UTC
Patron: "...And can you add the diced Hamlet to that omelette?"
Waiter: "Jolly good sir, and do you know if you'll be having dessert?"
Patron: "Oh yes, I'll have a strawberry Shakespeare."
Waiter: "Brilliant, your omelette will be out before you can say 'Ides of marshmallow'."
Patron: "That was dreadful and you know it."
Waiter: "Deary me, sir."
END SCENE
Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 5:01 PM UTC
How I struggle each moment
to live life without you
Since u have shut the door on me
Life’s barren twist I see
The road ahead is long and deary
And my strength fades faster
Every scratch of sanity I hang on to
Hoping praying today’s not my last!
I don’t want to give up
But I can’t face another day
When memories of our togetherness
Haunt me everyday.
Your smile, your twinkling eyes
You is what I long for
The spaces between my fingers
Want to feel you near
To feel your heart beating
Close to mine.
Try as much I, to push u away
You are always in my thoughts
I realize, I love you with every
fibre of my being
And even if that is not enough
My heart I will place at your feet.
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 11:39 PM UTC
And the waves they lap the bow like gentle applause,
encouraging,
taunting,
tasting,
what failure has yet to come.
The current pushes on,
a torment.
*You laugh,
my deary,
but look below,
the sharks' fin
does not slow,
as he follows you on your dreadful path,
anticipating
it will be your last.*
And the waves they slap at the bow,
like a spanking to a naughty child.
And you grin,
you row on,
you just don't see,
The end is near.
Upon this unknown body of water.
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 8:28 PM UTC
.
In rows like crumpled paper set,
The way one might design a brooch,
There sets a sparkle down so purely
Capital, beyond reproach and sure
She is the blackest flea who sits
Upon an old green dog, now should
You query, her name's a pond. In Gaelic
It's pronounced: Baile Átha Cliath—
But in Irish she's plain, mightily named,
Dublin. Where broods the dove, linnet
And swan. Now take them pi'jons, they got
Dank habits and linnets lament the silent
Stones. Sure, the goose gave out and took
To the air, but the swans, they've landed,
To roost, enchanted as 'Children of Lir,'
And so becomes a changeling child's
Fair city, for in her anointed proximity,
Gracious white birds do bathe and molt,
Supplied as I can tell, she looks black-
Pooled in clusters, long side her creases.
Stout nectar flows in near every nook
And cranny, but yer man, he's never
Busy, that malty fish, daftly avoids,
Swimming spirals round like buggies
Do on petals, he'd rather grace gardens
By drinking their dew. O Dublin town,
She wends her ways and rows her houses
Round-a-bout on cobbled shores in tribute
To sprite, deary and fey, Anna Livia—
Who like a stem of blood, stabs right
To the heart of Dublin Bay— and proud
As a crowned thorny, who once had reeked,
She's bloomed large, into one grandeous
Beauty, like a céilí so finely fiddled—
A sandy, spirited, bombastic beach-
Flower, she is, a flag so fitting upon
The doons. In dream, I flocked to her
Like the wild geese and saw her coy'd
Repose and there I spied, from mackerel
Skies— one monstrous, Irish rose!
Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 3:48 PM UTC
Insomnia came knocking on my door at half-past three.
The Angel of Death had long passed out,
fishnets tight around her throat,
a ***** needle dangling from just below the knee;
the Tooth Fairy was trading milk teeth for *****
on the corner of Fear and Doubt
with a nervous gentleman who had a head like a goat.
Insomnia knocked three times, and let herself in,
tatty robes behind her like torn leather,
scraping over cold tiles, over my skin;
sweet lullabies oozed over her chapped lips
in a voice as old as dry weather,
a storm of emotions conjured, a concoction
of cold blood, sour grapes, and bad trips.
Insomnia stayed the night, stretched out on my bed,
told me to write something nice about her,
or the curve of her armpits instead;
I can’t, I said, they’re dreadlocked in fur,
so I crawled in next to her, put my head on her breast.
A sigh of satisfaction moistened her lips,
There, there, deary, lets take a rest.
Feb 7, 2011
Feb 7, 2011 at 10:25 PM UTC
This poem is dedicated to all of the unborn children.
Do you hear the cries of the unborn
child
Do you hear what he is trying to say,
He is trying to plea for his life,
so you don't take it away.
Do you know what will happen to
you when come in front of Jesus
on the judgment day?
He will ask you why you did what
you did, and you will not be able
to explain it away.
When he asks you don't you know
who body belongs too? and you
tell him it belongs to you alone.
Will you listen to him tell you,
that you have that all wrong.
Jesus tell will you in a simple say,
It was his blood that brought your
life on the deary Good Friday
afternoon so very long ago,
and that your body is not your own.
You will think twice about it,
before you take an innocent life
because every life is precious
in our Lord's eyes.
Feb 3, 2012
Feb 3, 2012 at 5:15 PM UTC
**When times are tough and things go blue.
Think of others worrying too
Just because your problems are many don't think others haven't any**
I remember these lines when I was a child.
Never understood the meaning behind others smiles.
I'd complain and grumble to all and sundry
How life's burdens made me weary
Till I paused for a while to take the time to realise.
The problems I encounter are mine alone
People's cups are overflowing
Why make a bone
Everyone's so wrapped up in their strife
Life's so deary, faded are the smiles
To each one his own, the selfish style
The world's gone crazy toppled lives.
Till one day I heard the wise words once again.
Evil has a way to storm you
Till your endurance breaks
Sunk in despair and in pain
The light will slowly begin to fade
You'll long for someone to rescue you
But help is not any where in sight
People are so wrapped up in their strife
It takes a mighty move to turn the tide.
So I'll make a start with me.
Maybe some day somebody will follow
Right now it is hard to see.
I'll give myself a reason to smile
Those wise words will remind
To bury my pain behind my smiles
To reach out to those in pain
An insight in their world to gain
Having said that, things will never be easy
Evil will always try to place hurdles
To make my path greasy
Armed with my Saviour's Love
I shall remember
IT ALL STARTS WITH ME.
HAVE WONDERFUL DAY
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 12:06 PM UTC
He steps forward from the shadows
His eyes shine with glee
As he reaches for the soul of the man
Who just departed dearly
Black clad people surround him
The Grim Reaper blends in just right
The dead man's soul walks towards him
He claps his hands with delight
"A new friend to play with!" he thinks
He's really starved for company
All the souls around him just mourn
For the lives they didn't live fully
No one ever thinks of him,
Doing this deary job
All day and night, without complaint
Bearing the hatred of the mob.
Everytime he collects a soul,
He thinks 'this will be one'
To look past his black robes and scythe,
Then he can finally have some fun.
Bus alas, its seems as though,
It's just not meant to be
The Grim Reaper roams the realms,
Dejected and lonely.
No one realises that
He's just misunderstood
He's neither vicious nor cruel
He's always judged based on his looks
So next time you feel sad and alone,
Multiply that by infinity
Then you'll have a little idea of
How the poor Grim Reaper feels!
Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 9:00 AM UTC
oh the overcasting
dreary weather
the sun just looks sooooo
grey
oh damb you my sweet sweet sunshine
why'd ya hafta go away?
oh the sky
looking suspicious
ominous is my
dark and sunless sky
now tenebrous an so dull
as I often wonder why
as I find a sweet moment
in the a lull,
an clouds above are full,
so then you know that I
I must anticipate the cry,
....oh sigh...
we -
just plodding along
the clouds now form
in a flowing heavy floor
I hear stomping godly feet
an then the slamming of a door
boy it sure looks now so moody
an it's hard to just ignore
oh I say baby
it is like a leaden sky load
a heavy mess of pain in dear heaps
raining here now
on my dear sweet sweet abode
that man how he weeps an he weeps
he waters my garden now too
everywhere his loving
just seeps and it seeps
as his joy and his pain
it just reaps and it reaps,
oh back through the earth
an then back to the sea
as he pines after her
yes his sweetest Daphne,
oh his wonderful love
oh where you might be?
an but to be the God
of all that
sweet poetry
prophecy
medicine and
Light?
I just don't know why he must cry
I guess it must be that **** night
because then he must wait again- ignite
looking for his lover Daphne
that she'll be in his sight
then making sweet love again
all will be alright
sigh
so as he burdens my deary sky
tho I shall not be depressed
I might hafta go an ask him why
is he is feelin so distressed
when to be the God of what I say everything
I'd say that man is blessed
but perhaps he don't remember
a memory repressed?
oh an it's a-comin dark again
in shadows falling quick
reluctantly he goes behind
mountains
but feeling low an thick
he needs so much to shine on
it's left him feeling sick
he needs your sweet waters deep,
to cry your nector
must be
he only wants to worship you lover
the way he is worshipped too,
you see,
he is a-cryin my sky
becuz my dear he's just
waitin
on your sweet sweet love again.
Ma Cherie @ 2017
Aug 19, 2017
Aug 19, 2017 at 1:52 PM UTC
Long luscious ball gowns
Sparkling pink punch
Rhythmic music and dancers on the run
Heels coming off by the second song
Lipstick smears when he kisses me too long
Brighten up, deary
Everyone has fun at prom.
Finally we're leaving
Mascara smears, too.
Midnight motel room
Hot *** out of the blue
6 am wake up time
My heart is so calm
I told you, deary
Everyone has fun at prom.
But it wasn't that, it wasn't that at all.
I'll never remember the dances,
I'll only remember the motel room,
And the hot steamy ***
And the fast food run afterwards
And the late night conversations
And waking up next to my forever better half.
Listen deary,
Not everyone has fun at prom.
May 16, 2017
May 16, 2017 at 4:29 PM UTC
Six String Theory
tachyons protons neutrons galore
theoretical bombardment of mystical thought
jazzy country twisted rock knocking at my door
bending string blister melody sought
uptempo slowed down bugs bunny hop
octavial flated fifths and tones augmented
temperatures rising and I can't stop
missing musical chair sadly lamented
quick step spanish flamenco dancing feet
growling woofers and screaming tweeters
employing Lester's capo and magic wand
burned rubber top down blowing two seaters
it matters not how you stroke it
turn the preamp clockwise to 8 point 5 deary
power chords belly flopping your wammy bar
close your eyes and dream a six string theory
Gomer LePoet....
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 3:09 PM UTC