"earworm" poems
Rejection is an earworm
Playing in your head,
"Not here, not now."
Sharpen the pencil lead.
Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 7:03 PM UTC
God is spoken
From a potent Thing
we smoking Trees
Gaia birthed the bloom
breathed the boom
in the canopies,
In the wind flew the bees
and grew the pleasantries
Prana pushing
thunder through
sQuishing lemon trees
like a hundred new
Whisps of mists
and heavy deeds
Sit with honeydew
The gist of this
the lemon breeze
(We) Going tunnel view
Fits and Shakes,
seeking remedies
digging under you
Might be
dicking under you
Might be
Torn asunder true
Pirate borne to plunder you....
Sweat means gold,
what's been found
with lemon -ease?
I've been told
What in our eyes
is what we ever see's
7 seas,
more like 7 deeds,
filled with deadly feeds
Demons like to pleade
with ready rease,
Virus, the life that
spread disease
(it alters our sense
and what we please)
~Ahem,
***no te comas
la verdad
del diablo,***
today to trust
Might feel bad, but
none brought low
There's an easy in
WE Strong Standin',
N0ne brought low
and now we win
amen, a man
none start south
Its begun...
Light as
Potent as my prayers
**** the make-believe
***I can't wear it, ah
Dark is
Ever reaching
What do you receive?
***What you carrying hah?
Balance
(Is) an even preaching :
What we choose to be
***I can bear it ; hah
Come and help me unweave
those who have been so deceived
Those stuck in in the mud of ...
sputtering " how can it be ?"
**** the you or me, mentality
When Neurons Fire free
and Serotonins drained in me
You Might find Saraswati
sweetly swathing me
In glowing rivers,
poured off the moon
With Omens looming soon
With Omens looming soon
I been choking on my doom.
Dreaming
with Both eyes open
and a heart awoken ,
poorly stoking gloom
Too blind to see hope
but stoked, still
mocking roving
Vroom : im off to tokin soon.
Sh!t this blunt be totaled soon
I Might be total loon
an inverted magic man
who most often enwomb
those caught on the moon
Those stuck in the tune
For those who hear
this earworm, this tea room sloom.
This is for Those muted in zoom:
I've found traction in heaps
Breaking as hard and often
As the risen yeast
When you pass on the least
My Passion is to find
the passion of peace
its Stuck In the grasp
Fashioned with the sap
of my last energies...
May 3, 2022
May 3, 2022 at 12:27 AM UTC
Everything reminds me of you.
I'd say you're stuck in my head,
But the proper term is "earworm--"
You are not a pest.
You're too friendly,
Too lovable.
You closer resemble puppy,
Just like everyone says.
Only I feel as though you've run away.
I miss your loyalty.
Your companionship.
Your ability to make me smile,
No matter how hard I cry,
And those incredible, sparkling eyes.
I worry about you, now,
Because it seems you've run away.
I wonder where you've been,
If you're being treated well.
Or, if you've been alone.
Just like anyone who
Has lost their best friend,
I just want you to come home.
Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 10:57 PM UTC
I want to rhyme about you
Crush some words together
Chain them up in singsong rhythms
Catchy phrases
that earworm in my head
and echo.
You're the sort I could write songs about
if I wrote songs.
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 11:51 PM UTC
Your religion is
an earworm, curled around
my feeble brain. All day I
find myself singing praises of
your god, my
former salvation. Your religion dances
around my tired mind, enchanting
my ears even as
my heart rebels. I am
in the shower, trying
not to sing my love to
the cold tile walls, the
streaming hot water, the
house as my family listens to
the notes pour out of
my open mouth. טוב
להודות ל' ולזמר
לשמך עליון they
sing in voices like
brightly feathered birds circling
the light of
His countenance. Your god
is strong, and gives of
his strength freely to those
who can follow him faithfully. I
find myself incapable, and yet
your melodies ensnare me. This blessing
of musicality, gifted directly
from hours of sitting rapt, in
your house of worship, is also
my curse. I cannot forget
the source of my love affair
with the rise and fall
of your adoring exaltations
and all music.
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 1:39 PM UTC
Cross cultural chatter
with Jeremiah ****
and Jack D
and Gary Moore blues
in the earworm;
Good company
comes in all shapes and sizes.
Reprises memories
of forgotten friends
we lost in yesterday's haze;
Such is life
in the gentle ageing
of these days.
Bring me the amber nectar
and the dissonance of reason
awash in the Jazz and Blues
and the warmth
of a welcome handshake;
All friends start life as strangers
ambling lips for all seasons
and the hues of lost souls.
That found each other wandering
in the frozen cascades
leading to the hot coals
of belonging.
Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 4:35 PM UTC
arms stretched out
your presence falls to dust.
clinging to lost particles
essence blows to the wind.
Never mine alone
your hot breath whispers
nape of neck scortched
tendrils embrace fragile frame.
How could you?
callous manipulation
your earworm hypnotized
siren's song to keep me at sea.
*****
satisfied by legs sprawled wide
predatory habits
engorge on sickly perfume
latte skin prefered
Why her..?
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 2:35 AM UTC
Write about that song you just can't get out of your head, or adopt this as a metaphor.
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 4:41 AM UTC
I swear you've become the earworm, that gets stuck in my head
Your eyes are like falling rhinestones, like Gorillaz said.
Why I have to be so far away... that's something around which I couldn't begin to wrap my head
Even when I've got sunshine in a bag, the future is still rather uncertain
Because sometimes my life is more unpredictable than the spread of vermin
But...
If i had to pick someone to navigate those uncertain tides
To listen to my ******** on long car rides
I'd pick you in a heartbeat
..
Hell maybe even a seizure induced spasm
Sep 19, 2016
Sep 19, 2016 at 11:34 PM UTC
When you can taste the music
That’s been spinning
And twisting
Through the exhausted thoughts
And panicked memories
That’s when you know
That the thrumming of
Your heart is actually
The beat to a song
Sometimes forgotten
But still beautiful
Aug 14, 2019
Aug 14, 2019 at 8:31 PM UTC
Yes, sad but true,
Is this real to you?
I have earworms, do you?
Songs in my brain,
On my thought train,
I sing along every day,
Earworms on my brain, Yah!
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 9:40 PM UTC
It’s like a song, sometimes.
One that is loud, clear spoken
and can’t escape the head
despite tricks and tries of other phrases,
other verses,
tunes or talents.
It plays over and over
consuming the will to ponder all else.
And then it fades,
somehow,
no one really knows.
It simply stops
like a consecutive set of hiccups that was once churning the insides of a suffering gut.
It drifts somewhere,
with the thin idea that it may appear some other day.
Without a word of depart,
the song finds its way into a tunnel of another mind.
Consuming and repeating,
loud and clear spoken,
unable to escape the head.
And suddenly
I long for it to return.
The gumption,
the sentimental sincerity,
and I wish I had simply let my song sing itself.
Jan 7, 2016
Jan 7, 2016 at 2:52 PM UTC
Twists and turns,
gorges and meanders,
war against
the watershed
in a relentless desire
to be one.
Complication
is simple
as simplicity
cofuses.
Amidst the maze,
there's barely any haze,
every turn has an end.
A straight long highway
though goes undistorted,
won't let anyone see
what is there ahead.
Eye-sight is sure to fail,
the sight before those
who took the easy trail,
won't either be a help.
As they won't dare to accept
their wise unreasonableness,
dismissal of the their realness!
The righteousness
of the outer world
is enough
to ruin the natural reason
that reigns the land that lies in
the inner world of
green-seed possibility.
A leisure walk
in a labyrinth
doesn't promise a destination.
Then,
there's the threat to be lost.
Confusion
is a constant company,
as advices echo like an earworm.
As there's none
to pat your back
and millions of fingers
pointing at you,
with some dreadful derision.
You end up losing
the slightest peace
as
the precious perennial spring
refuses to flow
in ephemeral unbelief,
repentance wrecks
the very zeal of exploration.
The desire to reach the core
may sink
before meeting the shore.
Doubts may loom
as early as
you step out of
the wise path to doom.
Sometimes it may even seem,
the highway has all the peace
in its offering
for each
of us.
So at times,
the labyrinther meets
the mirror of mockery himself.
But
amidst the darkest of disdain
you must call
someone on the highway
in order to put the mazy route
in comparative sunray.
If
complexity
is your cup of coffee,
simplicity
isn't going
to make you happy.
For a change,
be a fool,
go deep down
the darkest wood.
Ask
the wise-you
to leave some space
for the fool in you.
Allow
the fool
to invigorate
himself
and
let
him
pluck the flowers
of courage
so that he can stand
the breaking barrage of
a game of illusions
called reality.
Okay!
Let's call it
what it is.
A story called life,
with a tiny
variance of choice
made by one
who
sought
an atypical approach!
Jul 26, 2017
Jul 26, 2017 at 3:52 AM UTC
You've been in my head again
Refusing to leave like the earworm you are
So through paper and thick black ink
I will write you away
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 7:21 PM UTC
The earworm
In my head
Had made it
To my brain
And eaten
What little's
Left
Jul 1, 2019
Jul 1, 2019 at 12:28 PM UTC
This pain
could run into
the triumph of
my head
burn and torment
alas for the tune
is worth a thousand pains
sail on sweet pain
curse me
navigate endlessly
through my hearing
till the clouds
crash
till the bird
songs shine
extinguished
till everything
is eclipsed
by great
throws of nothing
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 12:15 PM UTC
And another sad song after the last
I've heard it before
A classic earworm.
sure to make you never forget
old loves
Mar 17, 2019
Mar 17, 2019 at 7:07 PM UTC
Thoughts race like lyrical melodies.
Repeating themselves like a chorus.
He can’t take the incessant chattering.
The yes, no, please make it stop of it all.
It’s too much to handle.
Handle, like he’s riding a bike with the handles disconnected.
A wall in front of him, no way to steer.
No way to brake.
Can’t get it to stop.
Here comes the verse again,
“You will hurt those you love.
You will hurt those you love
You will hurt those you love
You have hurt those you had loved.”
The verse came in,
“Attention-deficit with hyperactivity, anxious, obsessive-compulsive,
Insomniac, bipolar, with substance dependency.
A basket case with narcissistic traits, but the self-esteem that makes him drown while everyone else floats."
Stated in the order of chronological diagnosis.
Each a bookend to a chapter of his life.
Collecting disorders like pokemon cards.
Being the worst there ever was.
Mar 11, 2020
Mar 11, 2020 at 6:51 PM UTC
You are inescapable.
Like a miles wide mountain range
present in the background of every scene I see.
I am humbled and invigorated by your presence.
You are an earworm.
Like a ******* Disney song stuck in my head for years
but I’m not tired of it yet.
Even syndicated radio couldn’t wear you out now.
I feel you bone deep.
The way your soul feels has seeped into my infrastructure
I am forever changed.
I could run, but I will never be completely rid of you.
I am permeated.
Oct 29, 2017
Oct 29, 2017 at 8:48 PM UTC
"The challenge with love is that there are two volumes:
loud and off"^^
=========
wasn't me who quipped this,
and he who wrote waxed
kindly referencing those
who dabble in
playing the bagpipe,
but I
do diddy!dabble in the arts of love,
and my sound not so shrill,
nor drowning direful drone of a piping;
though melodically, been know to wail,
but the worldview appeals,
for when I live in the in-between,
the volume on the very done~down~low,
that love is a not-even whispered mot,
and you wonder if the volume switch
is actually off,
and then the eyes say yes,
the tastebuds grow crazy sweet,
the earworm melodies you alone can hear,
and you are suddenly totally aware aware,
the off is no more,
and you hit the dashboard of yourred Mustang,
(see ^)
singing along, going too fast. not giving ****
cause love is back and forth, oh yeah
back and frothy
Oct 17, 2025
Oct 17, 2025 at 7:15 PM UTC