"ditzy" poems
Your contentious,
Ditzy,
Air-Headed,
Very sui generis,
You are my best friend.
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 2:36 AM UTC
Ignorance is bliss,
really,
more like Stupidity.
an aspect,
benefiting a person,
like cold sore,
irritating,
an annoyance,
peevish to your life.
Face it, honey,
you’re as fake,
as your personality.
You’re plastic,
I could melt you,
if I truly desired,
setting a lighted match,
to your artificial body.
Please, take some advice,
lay off the make-up,
you look like a clown,
maybe a **********
Tanning is acceptable,
but looking dark orange,
is outrageous.
There is no need to look,
like you just rolled in bag of Doritos,
that’s Snooki’s Job.
There is more to life,
besides appearances,
waking up like P. Diddy,
sweet heart, don’t like be Kesha,
it’s ******
Partying is enjoyable,
but not necessary every night,
consisting of drinking,
frat boys, jocks, pretty boys,
saying “oh my god”,
or “I broke a nail”,
and precarious ***
I know you were raised with Barbies,
but you don’t have to be one.
Barbie is a piece of plastic,
containing no originality,
with an unfeasible body,
and isn’t real,
much like yourself.
Stop with the act,
no one wants to be,
around a person,
who is often intoxicated,
narcissistic,
and a ditzy *****
You can be a girly girl,
but be genuine,
stop being a follower,
if everyone jumps off a bridge,
then you’ll be splattered,
upon the ground with them,
no use to anyone.
My words are probably useless,
going right through the holes,
of yours ears,
attached to the plastic head of yours.
Anyways, I tried,
as excruciating as it was,
to reach out to you,
who are living this life,
of alleged greatness,
more like a travesty,
in my eyes.
Hopefully, you’ll change,
wake up from this social stupor,
become yourself,
regain your individuality,
and cease to be,
a Barbie doll.
Jul 15, 2012
Jul 15, 2012 at 2:54 PM UTC
twitchy sniffly noses
silky bracelets woven
a sennight of whispers
and soft rains fallen
bones strident ringing
skins slow submerging
bloodshot eyes and
star-shot skies and
cheekbones shrouded
in staling chlorine
sneaking syrup smiles
under honey gold
four tonics drowned
to fight off the cold
and fast fortune-telling
for finites foretold
trace the lines and
face the folds, please
hold both palms closer
but leave them closed
twitchy ditzy fingers
***** rings unspooled
a sennight of stories
and sinking in pools
bones washed in phenol
skins slick like ferrule
bloodshot minds and
star-shot why’s and
wisteria lips speckled in
the warmest shade of cool.
Jan 26, 2022
Jan 26, 2022 at 8:01 PM UTC
You were ****** up
Said what's up
And believe me,
You were so great.
Words poured
Like liquor adored
Your mind was awash
With everything your tongue spat.
You'd had enough
***** in the rough
Fists ready to bleed
You'd had enough of everything.
So yeah you hit your limit
Punched that **** with everything you had
Didn't figure you'd **** him, I know
Also in your defense, he was an *******
These ditzy little dollboy *****
Never realize when they've said enough
Twinkling eyes and bicurious brows
Reconsider their manners as they **** **** in Hell.
Ten-plus years and out for good behavior
A whole new life but nothing to savor
Old friend drops by to give you a ride
And you cruise off into forever.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 3:41 PM UTC
I hate you
I hate the way you laugh
I hate the way your eyes squint when you smile
I hate your long, skeleton-like fingers
I hate your freckles that scatter across your nose and cheeks
I hate your long legs
I hate your body
I hate your messy brown hair
I hate your bruised skin
I hate your knobby knees
I hate the way you laugh
I hate your voice
I hate how you wrinkle your forehead
I hate how you lock your heart away from people
I hate how negative you are
I hate how you let people use you
I hate how you can't tell people "no"
I hate how you give in so easily
I hate how you care about people who don't give a **** about you
I hate how you love people more than they love you
I hate how you fall for lies
I hate how you care about what people think
I hate how you try so hard to please people
I hate how ditzy you can be
I hate how you can be so clueless to the outside world
I hate how you make the same mistakes over and over again
I hate how you let things get to you
I hate how you're so forgiving
I hate how you give everyone a chance
I hate how you give people second chances when they don't deserve it
I hate how you feel guilty about everything even when you've done nothing wrong
I hate how you let people take advantage of you
I hate how sad you are
I hate how you hide your feelings
I hate how you bottle everything up until you blow
I hate how you break people's hearts
I hate how you don't care
I hate how you don't have motivation to do anything
I hate how you get annoyed so easily
I hate how you're willing to do anything for people who wouldn't even lift a finger for you
I hate how you give yourself to people to fill the void inside you
I hate how your body constantly shakes because you're always nervous about something
I hate how you feel trapped
I hate how your chest gets tight when you think about how much you miss him
I hate the way you treat yourself
I hate how much I hate myself
B.S.
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 1:43 AM UTC
Wishing washy whimsy,
Hoping dreams aren't flimsy.
In cloud moons so ditzy.
Magic and creative,
Scatterbrained and native,
Impulsive, evasive.
Chasing rainbows always
Airhead bubbles. You stray
Light and fickle to play.
©Jacqui Slade
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 12:55 PM UTC
I am not who everyone expects me to be,
some think I'm a ditzy blonde who can't think for herself,
some think I am one to be pushed over, repeatedly hurt,
some know I have a brain, but expect too much from me.
I do not even know myself anymore...
always compared to my brother,
my aunt, my cousins....
newsflash, I'm not them!! I am who I am.
I am a teenage girl...
I love classical music, I don't just hear the music, I feel it.
I love the opera, there is so much emotion in these.
I love the fine arts, music, museums, art.
It's true I don't love reading, but yet my favorite book is 'To **** a Mockingbird'.
I am homeschooled, so what? Homeschoolers are some of the most brilliant people out there, no one should call us dumb.
I am a blonde, I'm not ditzy, I don't need everyone to tell me things I already know.
I love nature, and photography.
I am great at math, I love it, along with science. I have a 4.0 GPA.
I'm not mall, gossip, and makeup.
I am, sports, cars, weaponry, and music.
I don't wear dresses, and skirts.
I am gym shorts, jeans, tees.
I am a fantastic cook, but I ain't no "house wife" type.
I clean, but if I didn't who else would?
I love kids, but not in my life until after college, and marriage.
Do you get it yet?
I am one of the most honest, trustworthy, kind person there is.
I love easily, but I do not trust as easy.
I trust no one, but I love, and get hurt.
I am a broken spirit, I love, and I forgive too much, I am too trusting.
No one knows me,
like they think they do.
I am who I am,
not who everyone wants me to be.
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 11:46 AM UTC
With nothing much else to do,
We would grab a couple of purple prickly pear margaritas
And I remember how delicious they were
And how the bartender didn't hold back
Yes, they were strong.
And I would giggle, I would act ditzy.
Just because it was fun, and it got your attention.
You would roll your eyes at me sometimes
But not really in a mean way.
And we would grab some coney dogs, devour them like they were nothing.
Then we would fight about something.
We would drive all the way to the city
Stroll through the casinos aimlessly,
Because we were financially irresponsible,
But not that financially irresponsible.
Afterwards, you would buy me a delicious ice cream.
Then you would tell me all the places you wanted to take me, and all the events you wanted me to experience.
We really did give it our all.
But life is cruel, and our best wasn't good enough.
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 11:55 PM UTC
You dissolute deputation
Of disparate dipsomaniacs
Disparately determined
To drive me, distance me
Definitely, diametrically
Dizzily daft, daily.
Ditzy, I determined to
Deftly divide them;
I defy them, deny them,
Don't deify them
But deride them
Stand beside them
And guide them
To wander away
Until some other day
Some other fool
Who, as a rule
Digs abuse and misuse.
It's not a truce
But an absolute demand
For their total surrender
So they remember
From December to December
I am not a lifetime member
Of the “Beat Me” club.
Aye, there's the rub
You thought I liked it
So you could spike it
Like a basketball.
But, my soul is not at all
Into anything you could call
Masochism or submission.
So, if your mission is
To collect acolytes and slaves
You'd just better save that
For someone sicker than I
And bid me a fond goodbye.
Jul 21, 2016
Jul 21, 2016 at 5:53 PM UTC
When you text me
Good morning! <3
early in the morning right when you wake up...
Makes me go all smiley and ditzy for the rest of the day
knowing you thought of me when you woke up...
<3
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 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
a quick word for paula lee
and pamela rae
members of
the ditzy is as ditzy does club
may i join you ladies fair
my applicatory action
took place this morning
while labouring under distraction
i washed my husbands(a chippie) workwear
with cat's chicken flavoured kibble
it is now out drying on the line
with a row of cat's divine
staring at the brown streaked
grime in nose wrinkling adoration.
so ladies i think i made the cut
and can become a fully fledg-ed
member of this club refined
of absent mindedness defined....
(i plead pmt ...
intelligence in, sharp decline)
what say you..
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 12:24 AM UTC
I have taken shots of sorrow
til it became bottle after bottle
of warm liquid that ever warms my veins
leaves me wobbly and in a daze
the bartender says my limit is reached
but i tell him to keep pouring
keep pouring ,keep pouring, til I lie down snoring
However, like a wounded beast i refuse to lie down
So,I'm sitting at the bar and feeling weak
ditzy and cant speak
the woman next to me is saying something
about her problems and things
but my only replies formed are mumblings
the shot glass is sitting on the bar empty in front of me
painted with the cherry red of my lipstick
that once made me pretty
it tempts me for another round
it's evil stares haunts me and so I befriend its gaze
by looking at the glass lovingly
I ask the bartend for more
but he tells security to usher me to the door
upset, i saunder out,
broke my left heel and scream curses as if im opening hell's mouth
Limping around,I somehow found my car and sat in it
took out depression ,rolled it up and lit it
kept taking hits
hit after blazing hit
til my car was so smoky,it leaked out the window
dancing into the air and vanishing--
leaving me as a widow
it was then i decided to grow
tracing the smoke as it dwindled
looked under my seat and found a half empty bottle pain
and kept sipping on it
with nothing to gain
the mirror showed my patheticacy
faded cherry red
runny eyeliner
and smudged blush
painted a wasted mural of me
numb from anything once felt or thought
i threw it into gear and attempted the wasted ****** of me
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 3:47 AM UTC
I’m not a ditzy tulip,
or a bent erratic stem,
I’m not a trapped crysthanamum,
or a wilting gray hydrangea,
I’m not a pollinating prophecy that gives to all of nature,
I’m not a zoo of daisies,
I’m not an incessant rose,
That ****** the first to bow,
or a zinnia that pallied dawn,
I’m not a scentless lavender that pouches sweet consent,
I’m not a blossom specks of red that blanket willow trees,
or a bush that dupes that soil,
after frost descends the weeds.'
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 1:10 PM UTC
I wish we had a president
That cared about the populace
Instead of one who's wants the law
To bankrupt almost all of us.
The one we have cares about
Only the super rich and the white.
He’s a ditzy mouthy narcissist
And for sure that is not right!
It really wasn’t long ago
We went through this kind of fear
And now we are feeling sick
That terror is once again here.
This time we’re not afraid
Of people from another land.
Our country may be dying
But, again it’s by it’s own hand.
Part of it is stupidity and sloth
And part is just evil mindedness,
That either makes us look away
Or make others hate kindness.
Some of our parents trained us
To be big bullies and whiney brats.
And others ******* progress
By dissolving into brainless spats.
I wish we had a president
Like we have had in times gone by
Instead of one who is so happy
To pat his own back, cheat and lie.
It would give us all a chance
To avoid waging another war.
I wish we had a president
That knew what that job was for.
Nov 22, 2016
Nov 22, 2016 at 4:17 AM UTC
one day
my daydreaming helpmate
skipped hopped and jumped -
and made his way
all through the realms of my brain-what-have-yous
and most inevitably my ditzy-doos-
sprinkling pockets of lust along my floor
and making me follow behind him with a broom.
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 12:42 AM UTC
He walks with me
He is so lost
And only the mad listen
And me
I, he and the noise
We come into one
The best
Beautiful noise
The black on blue
The stars and the light
He writes
His ink is blue
In a dream
He sleeps
And I am fully awake
A water dream
Where are we
And you
A diamond rose
A black sea
The flame in gray
Under the water
I burn
He loses his play
The next day
I lay in the sun
Thinking backwards
Just yesterday
Sep 26, 2010
Sep 26, 2010 at 3:53 AM UTC
I’m sorry I’m to sad to love you the way u need to be loved okay.
And that every time you try with me, I seem to just push you away
I’m sorry that my hearts too broken to make you smile
And that you haven’t heard my laugh in a really long while.
I’m sorry I’m stubborn and that I cry way too much
And that being with me is looked down on a bunch
I’m sorry I can’t be skinny or even close to pretty
And that sometimes people describe me as being a little ditzy
I’m sorry I don’t accept the love you send to me
And that I make you feel like you keep me less free
I’m sorry I can’t show you how important you are
And that words have always been something that’s hard.
Im sorry I’m sorry for so many things
And all of the problems my mental health brings.
Mar 27, 2021
Mar 27, 2021 at 12:29 PM UTC
I remember the night I lay down my heart and soul.
Little young children they were,
full and bursting with joy.
I tucked them into bed that night,
kissed both of them goodnight after reading a bedtime story to them,
turned off the lights,
and closed the door till just a crack was open,
just the way they liked it.
Once I left,
you came in.
You flew in the open window,
no wings but flying like superman.
With you, you had little friends tagging along.
You had the stars trailing your feet,
little dancing things, like sprites they were,
able to change into everything,
tigers, dragons, fairies, monkeys,
all the while twinkling,
giggling.
I guess that's what woke up my heart and soul.
They slowly rose out of bed,
blinking away Mr. Sandman's remnants and dreams,
and welcomed you.
The stars played with them,
sprinkling glitter everywhere,
turning into everything they could imagine,
a protective lion,
a ditzy serenade,
a playful sea lion.
You watched with a smile on your face,
and pretty soon, when you offered to take them awash,
they agreed,
these young children.
You offered a hand, they took it
and flew away,
into the starless night
for all the stars were following you.
In the morning,
when I peeked into the bedrooms,
they were gone.
Gone to Neverland.
All that was left
were ruffled sheets,
cold beds,
and bits of star dust everywhere.
I smiled.
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 7:45 PM UTC
Walking through crowds is an experience equivalent to suffocating
I can’t avoid them even when I’m staring down
I’ll see their conniving other halves
Black and soulless
Empty and treacherous
Crawling about near the bottom of my feet
Wrapping themselves around my ankles
Never facing a specific way
No eyes for me to look at
To determine their candor
Their abundance of humanity
A reassurance that
When I turn my back
There won’t be a cold, silver dagger
Snaking it’s way into my soft, unassuming flesh
I hate the way their faces always demand something from me
What the **** is there to give?
Whatever’s on your agenda I don’t want to be a part of it
I’m a person by nature
Seemingly capable of a variety of feelings
But I’m an empty carcass by choice
I don’t want contact or connection
Only a coffee in my hand and the knowledge that the sun will set on another day
Their boisterous laughs, loud voices, spittle projecting from their mouths
Group of ditzy girls in front of me
Impatient old man behind me
All plotting to push off of the sidewalk
Disgusting aimless animals
It’s always an internal right
To get ahead, be ahead, to yell **** you for insulting their bigotry
Their infectious god complex
Where everyone’s certain their the best
All racing towards a cliff foaming at its mouth
To taste their massive demise
And you’ll see me trotting along behind
With the sewer rats and the lepers
Overly aware and alone
Ugly and nervous
Hateful and uninspired
Humbled by the realization
That every time somebody told us we could be President
We’d laugh and opt for the flask
Instead of joining the masses
And tearing at our competitions flesh
Until we all fell apart
Blue ribbon upon us all
****** and plastic
“You’re # 1!”
Nov 3, 2011
Nov 3, 2011 at 11:03 AM UTC
I feet this heavy sensation thats full of dread
I feel it all around, assuming sleep paralysis
4AM that I started planting subliminal thoughts in my head
Specks like vessels, I had consciously felt before
Struggled against the feeling, a feeling from what I did
I loathe my youth, platonic love, and morbid existence
And there's nothing more candid
Waiting for another chance of life is not right
I'm not like the feckless, like the bandits
Covers may bring sorrow from swive and dives
As long as you’ve got something to say then
It doesn’t matter too much how you say it
Lost, I highly recommend you stay alight
Your jawline against mine is was like...
A wave loudly clashing against a long shoreline
The sillage you had left behind was majestic
You're not like the limpid, like your kindred
Getting rid of your oarless secrets that'll befold
And there's nothing more candid
Glowing white lips that fade
Into silver comely light
Away in a padded close
My paracosm lies prostate
Upon the wings of mine
Upon your ditzy toes
Upon your nacreous face
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 7:55 AM UTC
Over the passage of time
Things got slowly better.
I began to hold my head up;
Rejected that lavendar letter;
The big “F I had to wear.
It originally meant ‘fairy’.
Later it meant ****** but
They still called me ‘Mary”.
They called me *****
And hurtful words like “shim”
When they referred to me;
They said “her” and not “him”.
It was so widespread that
The jokes were ever-present.
Life for a guy like I was then
Was seldom rewarding or pleasant.
There was no place back then
For those who were different.
The kindest word for the media
Could only be 'diffident'.
The world could only see us
As clowns and comic relief
But socially we rated somewhere
Below baby ****** and a thief.
So. we started marching
And coming out to our friends.
Later we would come out at work
But the discrimination did not end.
I was told not to put the picture
Of my lover on my office desk.
And I had to agree or else I would
Put my meager salary at risk.
When lovers were sick in hospital
We were not allowed to decide
How they would be treated at all
Our access to them was denied.
Family members, even haters
Were allowed to make the choices
And we were brushed to one side
As if they couldn't hear our voices.
Meanwhile co-workers ranted
If we used words like “my husband”.
We were treated the same as if
We were some ditzy cousin
They kept in the attic or a home
For the terminally strange and sick.
No matter when we stood up
We got the ***** end of the stick.
Today things are a bit better,
But, we have seen the pendulum swing.
Strange fake Christians get control
And reason stops meaning anything.
Jesus, who preached love and peace
Is used as a seemingly holy excuse
And, still today, many decent people
Never see through this awful ruse.
Aug 1, 2017
Aug 1, 2017 at 5:14 PM UTC
Aries– No matter how confident they appear, they constantly need reassurance that they’re doing okay. They want to know that their friends and family are proud of them. They thrive when those they love are proud.
Taurus– They are a lot deeper than they let on. They feel so much. They’re like the “parent” friend but they get tired of being so responsible all the time. Believe it or not, they love being taking care of.
Gemini– THEY’RE NOT THEIR STEREOTYPES!!!! Oh my god they absolutely are NOT their stereotypes. They care so much. They obsess over things very easily but it’s endearing. They’re the best communicators of the entire zodiac. Listen to them.
Cancer– Sometimes they can seem a bit selfish. They aren’t. Literally everything they do is for other people. Love is the most sacred thing in their lives. They’re at their happiest when they’re making their lovers and friends happy.
Leo– They’re waaaaay more emotional than they let on. They don’t like to express emotions for fear of seeming weak, but if they love you, you know it. They’re blunt as hell, and you may think it’s because they’re being mean but it isn’t. It’s because they want you to succeed.
Virgo– Similar to Leo, they are bluntly critical of their friends but only because they want you to be thriving. They are arguably the smartest sign. Listen to them. They also aren’t ALL neat freaks. Yes, some are. But not always. Their lives can best be described as “controlled chaos.” It works for them.
Libra– They’re so much more sensitive than they let on. They come off as the most confident of the signs though. They appear ditzy but they aren’t at all. They’re the signs that can be friends with anyone. If they ever appear “fake,” it isn’t because they are fake. It’s because they want peace, balance, and for everyone to be happy.
Scorpio– For goodness sake, they aren’t ALL dark and brooding and mean. They’re actually one of the most sensitive signs there is. They take things so incredibly personal. They’re made to laugh easily. Not nearly as intimidating as they appear to be BUT, that doesn’t mean they can’t become mean as HELL when they want to be.
Sagittarius– They don’t do well with emotions, only because they have so many inside of them. They don’t MEAN to come across as a victim, but they do sometimes. It’s only because they have a hard time with communication. They want someone who’s going to take care of them no matter how much they try to push you away.
Capricorn– They have such a guard up, but they’re so cute. God SO CUTE. They come across as the “class clowns” and it’s mostly because they are afraid of letting people get close to them. When they do get close to someone though, they’re incredibly smart.
Aquarius– They do want you to love them, no matter how distant they can seem at times. They’re the masters of making you think you know everything about them when you actually don’t. They give off a vibe that makes you feel comfortable enough to tell them everything about you. They’re great listeners, but they want someone to listen to them too.
Pisces– They can read your mind. Don’t even doubt it– they can. They tune in to your feelings, and they understand you more than you know. Take everything they say seriously, because every single one of them has immense wisdom beyond their years. But love is something they fear
(Source: wtfzodiacsigns.com)
Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 2:29 AM UTC
Should love spring also with Spring!?
Here birds and herds art all so whisp'ring;
O all recall the bliss that thee Bliss brings!
Dale and combe, do entertain, o'erdue regales;
Sweet pipings piped twain boon nightingales;
Here a throng hears; here a throng sings.
A-strutting didst he; a ditzy strutter e'er go.
Gone so long•each to each• is each woe,
O what if ten -steal gentle, O Woodruff!?
What if ten by hundred do so flee to steal away,
Lest the sadness's of Winter's existence thee allay,
SO would an woodland rill still rill all it could've?
Jan 10, 2017
Jan 10, 2017 at 12:37 AM UTC
Is love the color of his deep ocean blue eyes?
Or the color of that light blue t-shirt he wears that makes me feel like I am drowning in them?
Or maybe love is the color of that grey & red baseball tee he wore once that looked like it was solely made to fit and hold his muscles.
Maybe love is the smell of that familiar cologne he wears that reminds me of the first day we hung out and when he carried me to his car.
Or maybe love is the smell of the cookies we will make in the future in our little home together at 2am with no interruptions except our playlist changing songs.
Or maybe love is in the way he looks at me as if I am something so extraordinary while we are simply lying down, or sitting at a café.
Maybe love is in the way he looks at me when I say something ditzy, but he keeps his mouth shut to spare my feelings.
Maybe love is tucked away in the mess of blankets we seem to create every single time we are on a bed together.
Is love the sound of his voice when he calls me to tell me he misses me at 1am, or when he calls and asks to hangout at 4pm?
Is love the sound of his voice when he tells me that he can't express how grateful he is to have me in his life and how he wants me to be by his side forever?
Or maybe love is the way the word babe rolls off his tongue like an old familiar song with a warm memory.
Although these are all very logical places that love may like to hide, I believe love's favorite hiding place, is in the constant laughter and glowing smiles we share whether it is 2am or 2pm.
Love is patient and love is kind.
He is love.
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 2:52 PM UTC