"ditz" poems
I was raised on ridicule
Scorn and blaming.
Belittling laughter
Jokes and shaming.
Though nobody who knew
Seems to doubt it
They sure as hell wish I
Would shut up about it.
That’s just the way it is today.
Abused children, it seems
Upset people; therefore they
Are best not heard, just seen.
Four Eyes, Toothpick and Brat
These are a few of the names.
You might as well call them freaks
And creeps. It amounts to the same.
Screwup, ****** fumblefingers,
Bones, Spazz and Stumblebum.
Pantywaist, wussy, ditz and then
Plenty more where those came from.
From birth to death it seems
Sometimes, throughout all of life
Some people just don’t care
That scorn can cut like a knife.
It makes people question
Every move they might make
When somebody keeps on
Calling them things like flake.
The condemnation and rebuke
Aren’t covered up by the laughter.
People should question deeply
The effect they think they are after.
So cut the kids a break
It won’t turn out wrong
And the ridicule of a child
Can last their whole life long.
Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 6:02 PM UTC
What foes or friends do we perceive when we connect by chance conceived?
Would you care to explain how this is my fault?
Pray tell tis Joseph come to his census.
Come nigh so late to what truth evinces.
Four heed own Lay won knot thin kit sis...
Prays got a buff!
Fine uh Lee…
Coarse sit duhs pour ten dove baa doe mens.
Naughty ville purse say! Oar eve in dud ark Om end...
Shell Ira Bjorn ease? Orb headers till yore effete?
Ike ant aft tub Abe eave oar yew yen owe...
Wall oh win knit.
Gore Ida head.
Yuck use amoeba *** is hint umm eye fall tis zit?
Yuck cues amoeba ditz nada tall mite urn toot ache tub lame.
Bub I...
Hope Joe Ill step pup two wit all
Irie lay trill lee dew
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 1:02 PM UTC
The shot across the nation,
the pounding in your head,
the light and ditz sensation,
limbs light as lead.
The focus of the rebel,
the runway of the needy,
the escape of every label,
better off dead.
The burning force of throttle,
the coughing, shaking grimace,
Your satan-in-a-bottle,
despair's only penance.
If I look into the mirror,
and see the scars are healing,
I learn the more "right" it does,
the more it is revealing.
Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 9:41 PM UTC
"You're such a ditz"
My friends say
When I stop what I'm saying
To admire the last rosy kiss
Of the sunset
As it waves a lonesome goodbye
To its lovers.
"She lacks focus"
My parents say to eachother
In undertones I've heard coming so often
From the front seat.
I roll my eyes
At their attempt at secrecy
And turn my gaze back to the golden farms
Running beside our tires.
*"You're very thoughtful,
Never stop appreciating the beauty of the earth"*
My great grandmother says
Patting my hand with an understanding
I don't see often
Because she
Is one of the few.
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 11:14 AM UTC
what if i just was?
when you zone out, where do you go?
if you look at anything long enough it turns into exactly what you were looking for.
i am looking for nowhere.
hiding in what was.
i want to be in between the lines of my childhood memories,
in between the folds of time
in the solid swaths of color
huffing on emotional echoes.
i want to be in the stills from a movie, but not the running film.
where do ditzy people go when they ditz?
i want to live in the moment before you wake up, when you nuzzle into the void between consciousness and unconsciousness
the in between inhale and exhale
how do i know what words to let out of my
brain
mouth
?
who is the author of my thoughts?
what is making me write this?
i want to be mad
delirious
just be.
i am.
its okay.
Jan 27, 2019
Jan 27, 2019 at 11:22 AM UTC
Here darling,
rest your neck on my knife
and I'll cut us both a slice of peace.
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 12:10 AM UTC
oh my darling
not a brain in your head
but your not silly
you care nothing of politics
you have no morals
no more then a finger or a toe anyway
every 30 days
you weep and gush
tears of blood
a sacrificial purge
for a missed opportunity
and i love that you don't give a dam
smudged ditz
blood jam lips
cant sing a note
or utter a sentence
yet a mind of her own
a *********
carnival of spice
oh yes butter cup
creative impulse no matter the sacrifice
a christ in *******
blood glitter paradise
im
always in search of you
pert yoni goddess
angel of love
whom hath no fury
cave of salvation
woven love cup
tantra koota
seductive violet
honey tulip
tigress lily
***** heaving
with a killer ***
i am **** man
predator
solar phallus hero
thoughtless
yet two brains
and they both agree with each other
i am ruler of men
loving sadist
wanting to impale you
have we not made history ?
Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 4:54 PM UTC
1. Listen. Look, I know I talk too much and I may rant a lot, but if you just listen that's enough. I don't want advice, just acknowledgement and a hug.
2. Laugh. I may drop all the contents of my purse when I flirt with the cashier. I'm never perfectly groomed. I trip on my own two feet. I sing at the top of my lungs off key to the Frozen Soundtrack. I will use you to smack when my laughter gets me. I love cheesy puns and terrible anti-jokes.
3. Mean it. I'm both cynical and passionate. Don't take my **** but don't leave for no reason. My heart is broken. I'm not asking you to fix it. Just don't lie and hurt it worse. Please.
4. Kiss. Don't be afraid. Grab me and kiss me and pin me down and have me. Love me. I don't believe in simplicity. When we make love, make love. It's supposed to feel like something.
5. Live. Let's take a walk in the rain so I can wear my galoshes and jump in puddles. Tease me because I **** at being a vegetarian and then buy me some chicken. Hold me when I cry because I'm tired of abandonment. Don't let me go when I try to leave. Ask me to marry you with a hot sauce packet at Taco Bell. Look at my pinterest. Read my poetry. Play monopoly. Be sarcastic. Call me a ***** Dance and let me step on your toes. Laugh when I try to be **** Believe in me. Don't leave.
I'm just me. And I want love. And I'll give you all I have. I can be silly and blunt and a ditz. Please, just love me through it all.
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 8:46 PM UTC
Meeting someone who finally cared
Made my heart beam little rays of sunshine through my nerves.
I wanted to be the person you admired as well.
I was at a point in my life
Everything was changing.
I was transitioning from one end of the spectrum to the other.
Yet being the ditz I can be,
I let my fingers type out the words
"I was contemplating suicide."
Thinking only that'd you'd think someone who was in such a "dark" place
Could be a friend.
I now consider myself a monstrous idiot for not stopping my ravenous little digits
And thinking.
What would this cause me?
It caused me a long afternoon in a counselor's busy office
A long night in the hospital meant for those who actually were hurting
And an even longer day at school afterwards.
It caused me to worry everyone
When it was only my selfish little desires of being "that" girl.
The one who's been through so much, who's so cool because she's survived the pain
The one who is nevertheless on the edge.
When I wasn't.
I want to give you my complete, utter, sincere apology
For making your heart beat faster for the wrong reason.
For making your mind shake with worry.
It's about time they invented the time machine, don't you think?
Apr 21, 2011
Apr 21, 2011 at 7:11 PM UTC
I could blame it on being a ditz…or on it being a new razor…or even that I was belting out that note at the end of for the first time in forever from frozen
But in reality I know it’s just me…wanting to make sure I can still feel something cuz I’m so **** numb again
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 11:54 PM UTC
The Professor settles in and says, “Let’s go around the circle and introduce ourselves”
We listen to resume after resume of unbridled accomplishment. Then he points to me.
“Hi, I’m Anais, I’m a freshman, from Georgia, and I have mad skills. I can ***** about anything or feign complete indifference. I can give the impression of depth or play the ditz. I can pick the slowest line every time and I’m so good at sleeping I can do it with my eyes closed.” I finish and give the professor a head tilted “anything else?” look.
“Uhh,” he gives me an amused look, “thank you Anais. Next.”
Oct 26, 2021
Oct 26, 2021 at 12:52 PM UTC
Aye! Foreign Eye; tooth for a truth! you gnome eyne sane? Troot I owe ewe nah, youths dunno, you fin nah Noll. *** eye us fin nah per se, foe Theo Theo, ewe know O you no, enter ups shun, wot in the hex dies... jest say? Dis' awe beast anaconda sate shun bout Intrusion. O Why? O Why? O Eye, ice bins scratch in at Maya -Maya, day yum eye, forests rail lea bane it she laid lea. Wear Aye, yum Aye, yum Ah! Yea, *** eyes us sane, isis slow ands dims sum. Bess beefs be indy, indy, India, India, Far test fum yore deaf viand as understanding! O My! you oft de deep and of diem, diem... dim niche holes. couldst I ask I such without such plea? Pulleys! Pull East! Scaly wax inner interim oh, honor too, ides doe no, disease?
Lo! Land ** Too old geese sirs seize dearth closure mead wits mine ***** eye; and Naughty Wit Stan Ding disown. Yet fervor from mine arenose ol' hail home, I hath ne'er be -admit I to I; and plead to thee, wizened dis' Beseecher's breeching beach! Shea jest dis' a-greased wit who sow error to dew sew... ***** nil eat.
And therefore store my old hat lore, as I cast in twos that sea... Aye! thee, Foreign Eye! Truth for a truth, if truth it be, truth tell I, true to thee do I e'er be nah; e'er be I, true to thee from noun on; in air go, did jest *** you ditz dun to me, but now a blind eye a-see a freed bird!
- I caste you one lass time in due thus see. Cuss you beast an false eye, my you still dunce see, still blind you be, be dissin' in my sir name an airy way, and mode in air gone come.. a-seaward.
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 11:15 PM UTC
flushed cheeks
from your cold walk here.
your red jacket
scented with smoke.
white snowflakes
rest in your fluffy hair.
is your hair blonde or brunette?
i always wonder.
you're so smart.
but you're such a ditz.
your hair is ***** blonde.
your eyes are the color of a winter morning's sky.
a beautiful blue-gray.
the kind of eyes
that are gray when sad,
blue when happy.
i crave that blue
but lately i've been getting your gray.
i miss your smile.
that smile you think is yellow?
the teeth you're sure are crooked beyond compare?
they're adorable.
you're perfect.
smoke scented, snow laced you.
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 6:59 PM UTC
On twitter, he's the twit,
And he does it without wit.
His twits aren’t worth a ****
But still he just won’t quit.
He’s such an outrageous ***
An obviously halfwitted twit
Whose lightbulb isn’t quite lit
So spoiled, he doesn’t know it.
He constantly throws late night fits
And calls all of his betters twits.
Seems to have a case of mental zits.
We really want to kick him where he sits.
He never found education a good fit,
To him, being rich is as good as it gets.
He argues based on just tats for ****
He hoards every dime he gets in his mitts.
He thinks his taste is the Ritz
But it’s much more like the pits,
Made up like some madame’s kit.
Always the tackiest kind of glitz.
But any place this fat pig sits
Soon is covered with gaudy bits
Like some fairy tale ogre ditz.
Chronic insomnia must be the pits
Early morning hours, there he sits
Posting on the internet, collecting hits
Driving the Liberals out of their wits.
His ideas are the absolute pits
Even though copied by Brits
And they give sane people fits;
A lot like living through The Blitz.
Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 1:33 PM UTC
12/6/2015
"*Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.*"
TS eliot, the wasteland
I am amberbeetle,
stoked fire,
medicated ditz
I ramble through the wasteland,
hook foot and slackjaw
and go south in the winter.
you gave me asters a year ago
now they call me aster girl
memory almost always mixed with
desire,
and I
should've been
a pair of ragged claws
but that's a different poem.
We talked for an hour
maybe more
in the summer,
and he said
hold tight,
and I was was frightened,
and down we went.
Swiss instigation,
broken video tapes and
grimacing at sweaty sunsets
sunrises, and
there was no Japanese maple
no silver leaf,
no silver lining,
I read much of the night.
roots that clutch me in
metropolitan
rubble,
and these days
the broken deadtree gives
no shelter, no consummation
no conjugal embrace,
I don't find,
nor am I
the hanged man
"And I'd do it any other way
but when the hell am I gonna get a gun?
and you can't OD on clonepazam
without it being ugly of course."
Dorothy Parker–
I planted a corpse in my yard
Who am I kidding,
we did,
me with some assistance
It was carrion
found in the corridor
did it sprout?
it did,
but not in the way I hoped-
no carrot flowers or crabapple
in fact it was held up
by fruit vines
that illuminated it for all to see
including me.
In the sad sad light a
carved seraphim
melted into the laqueria
my nerves, they're bad tonight
and every night
stay with me
Speak with me
breed
in the rats alley
and lose your bones
Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 10:59 PM UTC
We were a country that lived near the equator;
I was the land and you were my infinite sky.
We have lived and witnessed our aeons together.
Each moment fleeting, and passing by.
The wind whispers, and the creatures rumble
weeping for me the unfair weather I hold
Only the dry seasons and the rainy seasons come by
and the sky, he's always done what he's always told.
When he cries, he creates floods and storms
or peaceful drizzles and ditz so plain
and when's angered, he takes right up
the moistened land and then grants me pain.
At night, he's terribly beautiful and quiet
the stars twinkle like stickers on my attic
The silent love, and the prolonged memories
and what he holds, goes far beyond semantics.
I sung, "*Precious sky, I am your earth
the land you watch with clouds and dew*."
And he replied, "*Pretty land, you are my purpose
and there's nothing to take me from you*."
Sep 10, 2019
Sep 10, 2019 at 10:26 AM UTC
Humphy dumphy ************
weak dragging, ******** ******** trucker
**** muffin, lined with ****** butter
stupid ******* weak-assed, ******* cutter
Lame ol, stinkin, piece of ****
ganky nasty, rubber ****
******* idiot, lame brained, twit
*** biscuit, putrid, ***** ditz
******* ***** and ******* tool
is that *** or is that drool?
**** wipe, and *** ******* fool
brain dipped, at low end, of the pool
So many ways to align a slur
**** ******* this, or a-fuckin sure
munchin his, or her own, fur
I'm just a swearing, connoisseur
I have swore more, than ever written down
words and more, a high pitched sound
a scream, a yell, and finger high
you know the gist, to you, from I
Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 2:56 PM UTC
I am your silly girl—
Yet here you stand, invested;
despite the smirk that pulls across your lips when you consider something smarmy.
I am your silly girl—
I blurt the ridiculous ramblings as they manifest behind my developing expression.
The flash of that very specific grin
when you’ve figured me out;
(you’re always figuring me out before I do)
followed by the briefest pause as you weigh your advancing words carefully:
Boy, I am enjoying this.
You’re so polite when you set me in my place, and it makes me want to kiss your face
Again and again and again.
I am your silly girl:
Paint stained fingers, tipped with clashing colors on cheap acrylic.
A homage to the blonde headed ditz with soul
A role I’ve always envied, but had been too smart to relax into.
(I stir my black coffee with twizzler sticks and eat lucky charms at midnight)
It has been so exhausting to exist without you:
Isn’t that funny?
I have spent thirty years establishing my lonely ant hill above everyone and everything else,
But within hours, I abandoned it all
to live among your interpretation of the world,
where I seek your translation every day.
Before you got here, I sought the validation that I was smart by ******* stupid men.
Today,
I have never felt as smart as I do, having decided to let myself love you.
I am your silly girl.
Jul 23, 2019
Jul 23, 2019 at 12:16 PM UTC
First outings (not a date exactly).
someone you’re impressed with.
You trot out your best anecdotes
and venture small confidences.
You have to decide which “you” to show
- the serious-seeming student, the ditz,
the pianist, the Tom Brady fan, the writer.
He does an impression of Tom Hanks
that was very good and very funny.
“It could have been worse,” I said,
but he knew what I meant.
“It’s my party trick,” he said.
I thought of a long ago prom after-party
- a guy removing my earrings with his tongue -
sending chills up and down me and grinning with pearls in his lips.
We’re here, in the new, the now
but we’re married to memories.
Dec 9, 2021
Dec 9, 2021 at 7:25 AM UTC