"frick" poems
My mom says "frick"
or "fiddlesticks"
even when kids aren't around.
She's holding in
some of that pure, unfiltered rage
each time a plate is dropped
or toe is stubbed.
If only she'd just shout "OH ****
she wouldn't lash out
at grandma or sob uncontrollably later.
Someone once said to me, **** you!"
and I was happy.
It means they won't ****** me in my sleep
because they expressed verbal and not physical rage.
I was happier when someone told me "go **** yourself"
because I went home and did just that.
Speaking of pleasure,
the act of *******
burns between 85-250 calories,
improves sleep & your immune system.
Google it.
I've been ******
a realization &/or learning experience
having gone broke without a way to pay rent
resulting in the lesson of moving back in with the parents.
We can get ****** up.
A couple too many tokes &/or shots of gin &/or punches to the face.
We learn the perils of excess.
In third grade, I was ****** up by a group of 6-7 kids.
I learned I never want to experience THAT
uncomfortable feeling again.
Why is **** such a bad word again?
Jul 7, 2012
Jul 7, 2012 at 11:58 AM UTC
Your name,
has become a curse word that falls from my lips.
The picture of you in my head,
has become blurred and wants to be forgotten.
Your voice,
has become a door that lacks oil.
The way you move your body,
must be because of your deceiving bones.
Your rat like eyes,
have become the worst color of diarrhea.
I know this is not the just the “Call out a back stabbers” poem,
lets name the flaws on and in my own skin,
that just so happened,
to be pointed out by you.
As you covered my face in nine pounds of a “makeover”,
you said you couldn’t see the flaws on my skin anymore.
Flaws?
You went far enough to point the pubescent scars.
of my lips, cheeks, and chin.
The shyness I have of talking to my friends,
was pointed out because you didn’t have someone to talk to that night.
Excuse me,
but I thought the effort of the friendship was supposed to be put forth by both “friends”?
Next,
near the end of the friendship,
you often told me I was a terrible friend.
I cried.
A lot.
Later when that came up,
you told me you were just trying to make a point.
Why as a friend didn’t you just try to talk to me,
instead of trying to start insignificant bull crap?
But here I sit now,
with friends that could always be so much better than you.
I often hear your snickering words behind me a your lunch table,
and I turn around and smile at you and your “friend’.
You usually **** your head in confusion,
but really,
that's me.
The 15 year old giant ginger with a second graders personality,
stinking my pinky finger up at you to flip you off in Chinese,
and to say in a nonexistent voice,
“frick you”.
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 1:09 AM UTC
11-6-14
I saw my name on your contacts list
and wondered how many times your finger hovered over the "call" button.
---
I hope you, or at least someone
thinks at least some things about me are cute
the way my hair sticks up and then flops over when I try to fix it
and, when pinned up, the way it becomes gradually messier over the course of the day.
When I mouth the words to a song on the school bus,
scrunching my eyes and headbanging,
or when I spin around on my heels, and try to look graceful.
---
Frick, I shouldn't try to write about love, i'm just a thirteen-year-old girl
who grew up on the internet
and doesn't care about the ****** music she's listening to.
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 7:27 PM UTC
Look here. I've been admiring the spectacle
of Ng’s bare **** Yes,
this is simply because I have to say
Ng’s bare **** is magnificent.
It’s not a bouncing Botticelli but it’s
a slim, firm bottom, subtly rounded,
real split peach and cream stuff.
And Ng at the other end
is a real nice girl, too!
She's my friend, see?
But back to Ng’s bare **** Let's stay focused.
I contemplate this vision,
along with the meaning of life,
quite often in broad daylight
with a slash of sunlight across her little buns.
This is more profound than the Tait, the Louvre,
the Met, the Frick, the Neue, the Helly, the Hermitage or even
the Natty Portrait Gallery all bunged in together.
Ng's bare **** is also better, by far,
than anything you'll see at the Bolshoi or La Scala.
I’m amazed at how much I’m amazed by
this work of art. It’s awesome.
And I betcha the most famous galleries would
fall over themselves to display this finest little **** that is,
if the world wasn't so hung up with hypocrisy and hysteria,
yeah, it'd be heaps more famous than the Mona Lisa.
Mike T Minehan
Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 12:17 AM UTC
I like the thin blond hair on the back of your neck
in the light
and the way you touch your lips when you're nervous
(yes I know you don't know you do that)
these 16 years (square root of 256 with a root of 4 8x2)
spinning anxiously excitedly
baby jeep happiest thing independence is sweeeeeet
raindrops are euphoric thank you spring
please bring a storm to shake
my bones
my ****** control
growing ravenously
frick this shoot
I can control my mouth too
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 1:28 PM UTC
Having a Coke with You
is even more fun than going to San Sebastian, Irún, Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne
or being sick to my stomach on the Travesera de Gracia in Barcelona
partly because in your orange shirt you look like a better happier St. Sebastian
partly because of my love for you, partly because of your love for yoghurt
partly because of the fluorescent orange tulips around the birches
partly because of the secrecy our smiles take on before people and statuary
it is hard to believe when I’m with you that there can be anything as still
as solemn as unpleasantly definitive as statuary when right in front of it
in the warm New York 4 o’clock light we are drifting back and forth
between each other like a tree breathing through its spectacles
and the portrait show seems to have no faces in it at all, just paint
you suddenly wonder why in the world anyone ever did them
I look
at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world
except possibly for the Polish Rider occasionally and anyway it’s in the Frick
which thank heavens you haven’t gone to yet so we can go together the first time
and the fact that you move so beautifully more or less takes care of Futurism
just as at home I never think of the **** Descending a Staircase or
at a rehearsal a single drawing of Leonardo or Michelangelo that used to wow me
and what good does all the research of the Impressionists do them
when they never got the right person to stand near the tree when the sun sank
or for that matter Marino Marini when he didn’t pick the rider as carefully
as the horse
it seems they were all cheated of some marvelous experience
which is not going to go wasted on me which is why I am telling you about it
by,
FRANK O'HARA
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 12:27 PM UTC
HELLO POETRY is the best poetic site in the world
It allows the poets to disseminate their magical word
Which flies like an ever flying and everlasting bird
Whose beautiful and delightful wings does it spread
Camille Frick is a linguistic wonder
Chris is a literary and poetical wonder
Yelena M is a musical rhythmic beauty
Reading which is my professional duty
Rue is somewhat naughty
But in her hearts of hearts she is a sweety
Neva Flores is a poetic muse
Whose poetry I involuntarily choose
I am happy to be a member of this prosody club
Our creativity revolves round this magnetic hub
We are indebted to this wonderful web
Writing poetry is a kind of hubbub
Feb 2, 2011
Feb 2, 2011 at 4:28 AM UTC
I have sticky skin
it's too humid outside and
looking through the bathroom mirror
into myself I think my
veins are sticky too
and maybe the blood in them
is too
I'm not sure
does moving blood make
your heart rate faster
all you people
u r losing it mummies frick the mummies
spinning in circles in Beatles boots
C I
S R
E L C
of throbbing pulses
brand new birthmarks on
necks of people
why so empty
vacillating back and forth like miniature
seconds seconds of time
time like
breath marks in a piece of music
BREATHE beFore YoU dIe and it is over
the 'it' has yet to find a definition
this is a rhetorical question
why did you leave?
for lacy clothes under cotton
pants bought somewhere on the beach
in MuMbAi covering
a gentle sloping navel
u ppl
feeling nothing
like a rubber band snapped
on a leg covered in jeans
snapping a rubber band against my wrist
until it is red
feeling things
lips are stained with coffee
and my teeth taste sour
of caffeine
this is the song of the
Lost oNe
my arteries burn less now and
breathing without
laying backwards on the carpet
comes easily
lOsT OnE hasn't changed
but I
have
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 11:09 PM UTC
One day Frick when to the place to buy some stuff
While Frack stayed in the area to do some things
Frack tossed out some junk
He used the the whatchamacallit to clean the thingamajig
Pick up the odds and ends
And he scrubbed a doodad with the thingamabob
Frick purchesed some knickknacks and bric-a-brac
A few sundries
A couple of tchotkes and trinkets
Some whatnot
A gizmo
A gadget
And more miscellaneous paraphernalia
When Frick got home Frack asked "What'd you buy?"
Frick said " Oh, this and that" "What'd you do all day?"
Frack said "Just a hodgepodge of etcetera, etcetera"
-Tommy Johnson
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 7:46 PM UTC
Say that we are enemies
Arch-eyed sharp means you ridicule.
You don’t get what our spit means to each other.
You mah frick; I you frack.
Yolo contendere, peace out bella pie.
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 10:05 AM UTC
humans are just small planets
i want you orbiting me
we could play frisbee with the stars
i want us on the moon sleeping in it's craters
frick me on the big dipper
we'll make our own constellations
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 8:55 AM UTC
Frick.
Don't feel bad for yourself.
You have it so good.
You have a house
to live in
You have clothes to wear
You have
a family
who loves you.
You have a boyfriend
who wants to spend the rest of his life with you.
Everything is going to be okay.
Bad things ****
Good things are hard.
Life takes a long time to get right.
Mar 22, 2018
Mar 22, 2018 at 4:50 PM UTC
It's easy to say things when they don't mean anything,
and that's how I've always gotten by.
But then I said something that ripped off my skin,
and my sea-soaked beauty didn't want to give in.
She ****** me, I ****** her,
we danced all night,
I wrote her a poem,
when I forgot how to write.
Aug 27, 2010
Aug 27, 2010 at 11:02 PM UTC
Let's see...
Ooh! No...
What about...?
Nah...
Maybe if I....
Nope...
I could probably...
Ew.
Hmmm...
Ah ha!
Frick...
Let's try...
Never again.
For the love of!
Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 4:52 PM UTC
4 and 20
Jump down, turn around, pick a bale of cotton,
scuse me, while I kiss this guy,
old times there, are not forgotten,
4 and 20 blackbirds, baked in a pie,
now of course, the question has to be,
just what is the point, of all these crazy quotes,
the message seems quite clear you see,
unless you've been too busy, tending to the goats
just why is it mandatory, that have to keep jumping down,
would it not be easier, to stay there all along,
and just what did Jimi mean, why would he kiss a clown,
or did I misunderstand, the meaning of his song
I also take exception, to the fact presented here,
that old times or not forgotten, never fade to black,
hey, I cannot even remember your name my dear,
just who were those jokers, Frick and Frack
Is it really possible to fit all those birds,
under the crust, of just one pie,
and of course the thing that bugs me,
is why, oh why, oh why
Gomer LePoet...
Apr 7, 2010
Apr 7, 2010 at 12:37 PM UTC
Edward Carnegie was once a normal man,
Steel monopolist extraordinaire.
Till a fateful dip in rail stock,
Lead to his discovery of time travel.
Confused, he landed just a few years from the modern day,
Where he was arrested by the Time Police.
"Edward, we'll set you free,
If you defeat public time enemy,
The Alien."
So off went Carnegie to the modern day,
To face off against fellow PTE.
But what was revealed,
Shocked even the Time Police.
His business partner, Henry Frick,
Was the real villain all along.
"Buckle up, we're going back in time!"
Back to the time of steel money,
Frick had almost bested Carnegie.
"The company is mine Edward, stand down!"
Though undenounced to Henry,
His advisory had pumped his veins full,
Of the Blood Of Steel.
Mar 22, 2025
Mar 22, 2025 at 3:06 PM UTC
If its time to make love I’m ready for some history loving.
But when they said I had a bouncing babe in the rotisserie oven.
I said that you did not have to tell me that I had a belly.
Because in most foreign cultures it was a sign someone is wealthy
They retorted that my babe must be in nicu, I told them frick you.
But it sounded more like the word people use when they want to do.
They got offended and stormed off, but how did they expect me to reply.
Did they expect me to apologize to them as if I am that kind of guy.
Smile, and say hi, I’ll work so my belly goes down from nine months to one.
The worst is when they are a stranger and initiate the conversation.
Then I comment on their lack of hair, and say they are aging gracefully.
One person who I told this turned from condescending to a raging face to me.
He whispered my belly needed deliverance, I replied that what his hair needed was dead.
I thought that based on his comments about me it had to be said.
They left on a huff from the train, I’d just thought I would share some of my pain.
Such people need to be taught manners so they are not rude like that again.
Jan 24, 2018
Jan 24, 2018 at 4:42 PM UTC
"Gunshots and gun wounds
Freeze
Firefly crossing.
-
Yeah, as time goes on the reality that we are nothing sets in
It's a fire to be put out, but it's a part of us all the same
Hey. It's what I live for to be challenged and crushed by truant fools and falsehood names
Stayed away.
But then I saw the closer tides going out-
And I was angry, having fear and doubt
Why enter my life just to leave so quick
Calling back to new things? - frick that makes me sick
I mean, I can understand children cutting off their own hands
(It's not a literal thing, but a drawing in the sand)
But such a strong connection, oh my- what a collection
And as the shelf falls off the wall
I can't help but think of myself as small
Porcelain pieces strewn across the floor
Such loud noise, you can't possibly ignore
But you do.
So silent and uncaring, a bountiful tree no fruit baring
Caught staring
Let me steal back the flowers
Endless hours, counted by the flowers
And still
So mighty was your name, banner brought no blame
The same in shape all over
Clover four leafed, created the world- the world over
Show her my life, as you would have given
It's okay I guess, as long as she lives
And doesn't take as much structure infection
As the tower you once called an amalgamate effort."
Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 6:29 PM UTC
you enable me
you toy with me
you puzzle me
you frick with me, you frack with me
you scatter my thoughts
my wits
my heartstrings
but you also make me laugh
and that kind of trumps everything else
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 11:33 AM UTC
DEATH
TIME OF THOUGHT:LOST
DATE OF THOUGHT:LOST
OGUNLABI OLAJIDE YUSUF-Nativepen
DEATH
Umm...............
The end of mortals sojourn
An Au'gust visitor
A must all living dislike
Is there any armour against it?
A thief that strikes unnoticed
A snatcher
A destroyer
He snatches the forgotten
The free born
The most sought after
Even the loved one's are not left out
He snatches the kings maker
The princes and princess
The queens are not excluded
Not to talk of the kings
He is a cruel messenger
He is no respecter of anyone
What a ruthless messenger
The offer of gold, brass and bronze
He rejects
The best attire in style never frick him
What a cruel you are
A ticket to the judgement hall
The leverage amongst all
He is not a friend of all classes;
Pauper,slave and the wealthy
Oh death
The breaker of the umbreakable bond.
Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 3:25 PM UTC
The (win) d-y
city
Pop___ crackle
crunches
Crunchy Eye
On you punches
Like Philly
Steaks the first
The Prince
comes second
second best friend
Visa to the rescue
Chicago Bears
Goldilocks my pizza
Whole lotta love
So windy who
could hear!!
Led Zeppelin
Kashmir**
Chicago bands
Second-hand
Goodies
Windy- Indie
Hoodie
zipped
Me- in
Superbowl Beans
Dips
Second
largest city
Her lips but first
The second he spoke
I felt cursed
So frick-in cold
Do you even know
what time is it?
What crime was hit
Can Can__ Watch it
((Rolex))
Dresses flew up
dancers
Getting a
second wind
The death of a cold
Uninvited
What a pity
Windy____ city*
Once
everything
was so
pretty___-**
Chicago
25/6/4
I'm 25 the 6th day
What a pair
What four?
Now it's
24/7
24 hours whiskey sours
North Star witchery
Chicago second
wings gallery
Oh! 4th of July
All flags what
a bona
Saturday in the park
The dark train Sienna
settled in I met my
Second wife
Windy- chances
what do you
see with
your life?
I was gone with the wind
The lefty player
Second to none
mission to the right
The Buffy slayer
I need a break
everyday
His Wildfire
Imagine all the people
John Lennon could change
a temple
To be someones
Second
hand
fiddle
I give you a
second,
Just make you
**** record
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 1:14 PM UTC
Faygo and ******* **** and a little braded naughty nancy who ain't really named nancy Tom Clansy sheets nasty. ***** nasty. Sheets nasty thats frequent from the New York jogger flopping floppy frogger. She stunk like hose water pan handling cleanly. Oh and touch my weeny weeny from the scene where Scheen bees. Hurt my hind haunches like the stank from the seat where old Ponch sits. Cooties grissle cookies wish, I wished yes betch I ****** up I bet-cha you're a ******* **** that facades as a proof fan because my homie used to use my Moving Van, but ****** I don't know your crow's feet until. Well.Well. Well know until this thesis because I wanted to write how more I **** **** with Rechard Simmons on the Weeknd's Porsche hood with permission because we isn't weight bizz-nitch. I'm itching Oren Ishy Iishi can you open up the crusty crumble, Wait I waxed my ******* ******* waste on bleach. I ******* bleached her *** buster with more catching up then mustard sauce. **** your Oddity I'll grab enough ***** from Fun-yun bags that reak fathered pharamones. Oh. I moaned Oh. Oh. Oh. I moaned.
Jun 10, 2019
Jun 10, 2019 at 4:59 PM UTC
The next time we meet again will probably awkward as frick
Like if Jupiter and Uranus collided
In which they'd probably pass by each other because they're gas giants
(Or fuse into one big gas giant planet, but I'm too tired to explain)
And being in one room we'd might as well
Be two unmoving pieces of stone each waiting
For the other to make a move
After all the years without touch
(Cause a pandemic had to happen)
I guess we'd be stiff like that.
I mean, can't you see the stiffness in the way my hands
Wave at you wishing yours could just come through
The pesky screens holding us back
Just wishing they could make a crack at all the ice
My hands have been gathering throughout these years?
Cause it seems holding you will take ages
And I'm now left to read hundreds of pages of young adult couples
Huddling beside bonfires
Making it look so easy to move closer and closer
While realistically, we're stuck here miles and miles apart
Only huddling beside this hurt we call distance
By the gods, I pray to be a gas giant so I can permeate
Through all these physical walls
And give you the one long hug I've been saving since fall
Cause I badly need the body warmth right now.
Do I sound too hypothermic? I hope not.
...
But anyway, still and awkward hugs will do
I've noticed it's a bit cold here --
Is it cold there too?
I know you might've grown accustomed to it, you might even like it, but for just one night
Let me imagine what it's like
To warm you.
Sep 21, 2020
Sep 21, 2020 at 10:42 AM UTC
thumb popping the socket
once...twice...
little green circle
heat flash
lungs of short-comings
throbbing and flushed
flashback fast forward
rewind playback
and what was it all for?...
the risk the writing the songs
oh boy...
maybe i'm not interesting anymore (?...)
whole walk
for nothing
frick.
it's not me
and should i ask another question?. . .
it's you.
so sorry for showing it
hand over heart
yep, it's still beating
a little too fast
*too much
and yet it's never enough
always hungry for more
Dec 19, 2024
Dec 19, 2024 at 10:52 PM UTC
I saw a thrush in the gallery
I don’t think it belonged there
It was haphazard and wrong
Although framed
And people addressed it in third person
While all it could do was
not flap
Well I thought it was beautiful
And reminded wistfully of sewn together promises
bandaged with more thread than cloth
It’s inevitable they will decay
It’s nature’s way
The way the thrush was nailed to that
piece of marble in the ostentatious
collection of other half-wit
dead things soaked
in the nighty marble
Frozen in time, limp
Placid like an
amber crystal like an
18th century lollipop
Like a dead grandpa
in an open-casket funeral
home in middle America
I saw a deer spine in the woods with
an intact head
She smiled at me
From the neck down
She was was picked clean; I was
reminded by mother:
Don’t worry, as I went to sleep
It’s nature’s way
The light was off but I stayed awake
I counted the stars and tried
to match them up with
all of the dead pets and people
in my life and they
matched
It was just about right
People leer at the dead thrush
Expecting it to do something
All it is is just is
People leer at the heart and
expect it to do something
All it is is just
Holding my bones together
Holding the wall together
Like a loop in the knit
Frick archives
Like a syllable
In the Tanakh
Like a stone
In a stream
Like a star
In the sky
It’s nature’s way.
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 9:07 PM UTC