"funnily" poems
My friends describe me
as a man of few verbal words.
Funnily, the words are chosen
poorly for someone who
thinks so much about what
a person should and shouldn't say.
Last year, a classmate told me
she would get at least three words
out of me before our study group
quit for the night. I responded,”You lose”.
Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 12:20 AM UTC
In depth
there's only fear and disbelief
deeper you will find nothing else
just void
the courage
is only the drop on the surface
wearing it like my favourite dress
not many times
there is rage
it intensifies how I feel
using every other emotions as fuel
it burns them
After the fire
Tired enough not to think much
and in a bad situation as such
I fall asleep
Waking the regret
funnily it keeps on returning
the cycle ongoing
bury it within
I am emotionless
with too many emotions dancing
improved a lot in masking
happy with my newfound skill.
Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 12:22 PM UTC
it is your birthday today, the first man to show me
there are layers to masculinity and femininity
and each layer you kissed
today I am led to reminisce
funnily enough, I still dream about you
you were the only healthy thing I ever liked
you were the only man who ever did me right
You washed me clean of my trauma and make me shine like pearls
I dreamt you met my momma and you kissed my curls
but you are happy now and I am too
maybe in the next life
I hope I can find someone like you
Jan 24, 2022
Jan 24, 2022 at 4:00 PM UTC
I always webcam with CJ on Facebook,
since we actually became friends from there!
Everyday, we'd give each other nice look(s),
and sometimes, funnily even just STARE!
While we were talking today with each other,
it'd been, actually, almost past my dinner time!
I heard a strong call from my Daddy, not Mother,
who screamed being downstairs was a full CRIME!
He yelled at me for answering from upstair(s),
telling me I never follow his strict rule(s)!
I guess there're lots that are actually fair,
but I really still do feel like a fool...
That's why I wanted to die.
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 10:36 PM UTC
Consistently, I'll crave your inconsistency,
Consistently, inconsistent
Because--
Heaven, is what I feel when you touch my
Skin.
And when you sin with me in the dark,
Dark night I wonder if I
Might
Get the chance for this song and dance to last
The past is holding you back
From me.
Be still, stop running
Stop ruining everything in your path
Self-destruction
Funnily enough, I know you're slipping through
My fingers, so
Linger no longer in my bleeding heart
Just part ways with me already, I am not
Steady
On my own two feet with/out you
See? I am defeated, I am so defeated
As I crave our moments, so
Heated
Hot like fire; soulful desire
Dire
Is my craving for you to admire
Me.
But you won't see--
Me.
Be---ating hearts, stutter,
Flutter
Muttering soft murmurs of want,
Of need, of peace, of release
Haunt me
With your absence,
Have sense
To never come back
I won't take you back,
(Lie)
I won't take you back
(Lie, lie all I do is lie)
My, by and by I slowly die
And without care
You stare at my pain
And scoff
A brush, a kick in the dirt,
Don't you see my hurt?
Ghosted by you,
You don't see anything through
To the end
Scared little boy,
Ruined little boy.
Hurt little boy,
I would've loved you,
Little boy.
You foolish tool
I bid you adieu,
My Ghost.
Mar 19, 2019
Mar 19, 2019 at 11:44 PM UTC
Busy, with an idea for a code, I write
signals hurrying from left to right,
or right to left, by obscure routes,
for my own reasons; taking a word like writes
down tiers of tries until its secret rites
make sense; or until, suddenly, RATS
can amazingly and funnily become STAR
and right to left that small star
is mine, for my own liking, to stare
its five lucky pins inside out, to store
forever kindly, as if it were a star
I touched and a miracle I really wrote.
1.7k
Emptied out the suitcase of my thoughts
I'm kinda tired of lugging them around
Searching for a place to just feel sore
Without some ******* telling me
To flip my smile around
If I could? Don't you think I would?
If I could just blank out the bullcrap of today
If I could? You bet I would.
Funnily ******* enough, things don't quite work that way.
Wiping away the scratchmarks of the day
With the antiseptic wipe of yet another pill
Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 11:54 AM UTC
you invented anger and laughter
a cry and a smile
one side is heavier than the other
but don’t ask which one
and funnily enough i’m holding hands with myself, again and i crafted narratives of secrets and regrets, again and why are we so drawn into things that only YOU understand? again!
Apr 3, 2023
Apr 3, 2023 at 3:14 AM UTC
I can thread it through my fingers
Running it in between my fingers
Going over the material of events
Perpetually stargazing what went wrong
Maybe because we were both Scorpios
That's why it didn't work out
Our stingers would both fight for supremacy never getting along
I was always debating every possibility every wrong turn every right turn
Hell even the left turns and the right turns and the U turns
I always wanted to have a plan A
And C
And B
And Z
But I know that even with all of my plans I still had the main plan to love you
So much so
That I loved you better than I ever loved my cracked reflection
The lines spreading out from my eyes
Grazing my throat like a choker that always fit too snuggly
Seeing you is like seeing a quicksilver flash
Just pain and happiness holding hands and dancing in a circle
Making love in sweet July rain
You were always the crashing thunder
I was always the lighting
Illuminating what you never wanted to show me
Because you put me in a glass case
Not because you thought I was delicate
Too delicate for this world
Or because I was a shining object graced by time
You were putting me behind that door
So when you walked away I wouldn't be able to follow
Locked away to be stared at whenever
Avoided after
But I think you forgot
We both kinda forgot
That lighting strikes back
And when I finally got fed up with your ****
I destroyed that glass case
And handed you your *** and never gave you what you wanted
Which was funnily enough
Me
But I was tired of that and I got exhausted from always putting you first
So I decided to break it
And yes
It cut deep
But after everything I've seen
Those shimmering shards that drew my blood
Used it as paint on yet another one of life's canvases
Was worth it
So take as much as you need
Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 9:43 PM UTC
i think about all the lessons i have been taught. i take them to heart.
i think about how even when you want to urge "drop dead", the moment they tell you they would cut their throat if you didn't love them, the words burn up in your mouth. i love you will not roll off the tongue as easily. when i find myself throwing away everyone who excels in ways you never could.
when someone invites me to walk besides them without words, when a stranger is just inches in front of my footsteps. crossing the street, passing them, being anywhere other than behind. how i can never walk besides someone in case they pretend like you did.
when friendship was about grabbing a fist to pull your muddied self off the ground, when the hand that feeds you is the same to slap you. how you say you're sorry and when i say it doesn't matter, it means more than one thing.
what happens to me when i don't speak my mind. what happens to me when i do.
putting a name to the workings of my heart
a funnily familiar word. it comes to me, where i've heard it before, that time i heard you spit it out when i was walking home.
somehow it still doesn't come as easily as it did for you
looking at the mirror
wondering who in their right mind would, if your sick self hadn't wanted to.
and what a pity for you that you coaxed me out of my shell but not quite these intimates.
i wonder how i was too young to know better, and too old not to by anyone else's standards
i don't patch myself up as much as i do try and build over, hibernate for winter in a coffin i picked out myself.
do you think that if i had my hands in your chest like yours had mine, i'd finally be enough to make your stomach turn?
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 6:25 PM UTC
Crazy loons
blind hearts they ****
fools with guns
shells and blown up hills
kind of the world
has a sore head
and suggests to morons
why don't we blow up a paint factory instead?
yes we could
if we should
well do it once a year
won't that be good
Gallons of different colours
flying up in the sky
splodging so funnily
A GREEN DOG JUST RAN BY!!
And all the different countries
joined hands forever
and learned real peace
blowing up paint factories together
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 10:17 AM UTC
My hearts always been in the right place
till it slipped down to my knee
and trapped in my knee caps
now my hearts bending on me
My hearts always been in the right place
now I trip, slipping slow
I pick it up from off my feet
but funnily, stuck in the elbow
My hearts always been in the right place
but now, I really just don’t know
If it’s safer caged in my chest
or bent to which every way I go
Aug 6, 2021
Aug 6, 2021 at 9:02 AM UTC
That gnawing feeling at the pit of my stomach
went away as of, well,
two seconds ago.
Now the feeling has dropped to my feet
funnily enough, though, my heart is in my throat
and apparently my heart has brought with it a spring of tears
which are now flowing freely and falling to my feet,
along with the pit of my stomach.
And evidently my swollen heart and spring of tears have
drowned my words and quickened my thinking,
because my thoughts are racing but the words just aren't coming
And as you walk away
all I can do is sigh.
Feb 9, 2010
Feb 9, 2010 at 3:26 AM UTC
I didn't know I'd end up here again, especially so quickly after crashing.
But yet again, my heart is an unexpected, fickle thing.
My hair is ***** just like my hands, for I have as much pain and blood on my fingertips as has been inflected upon my heart. Funny how a small little girl from Wonderland can cause so much pain. Innocence was once on my lips, but then the world killed my brother, and then the Jabberwocky came to play.
But where are my manners? Let me invite you to tea, buy you your last meal before I ravage your body with my teeth and claws and words and terrify you when my green eyes before blood-red with the splattering of you. I hate to make people forgettable, so trust me, it'll be a night to remember.
The demons inside come out to play at night, when my defenses are weak, talking of death so easily, when I know I don't have a heart for killing. I only have a heart for destruction and dismemberment of hearts and minds, not lives.
Grace was once so little and pure and kind, but the second blood red graced her sibling's lips, it was over. The monster had come to reside in her.
Red, green, the colors of my heart. Funnily enough, also the colors of Christmas. Didn't know generosity would share the same colors as my envious, greedy, ****** heart.
I am not a fan of myself in the darkness. Perhaps because I see in the nothing a reflection of my own shadows.
Go to bed, dear Grace, before the monster inside eats you. **** you, Jabberwocky, and all your tricks. No one comes back from Wonderland without a tad bit of baggage.
Don't beware the darkness, beware thyself.
Goodnight.
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 3:16 AM UTC
Love is the most universally beautiful thing that any one of us humans could ever experience in some wonderfully, individual way. It is stupidly complicated, anyone can tell you that. But, honestly, if it wasn’t as complicated as it is then who would actually attempt it. It’s good that it’s complicated that way it keeps you on your toes.
Everything that you do to anyone is completely pointless. At first, the words and the feelings might hurt you and make you feel like you are losing every round against them even though both of you are supposed to be on the same team. Your imagination and the places your mind takes you will leave you without words because you want to believe that they are real and everything will happen as you wish it so. Unfortunately, that is not true because you see yourself feeding you these sweet, delicious lies and then you’re stuck with the brutal truth of it all.
He’s messaging you to tell you that you’re too young for the situations you put yourself in. You have tried to find yourself in every guy you kissed when really you have just come to realize that they were always trying to find themselves in you. Sadly, you gave yourself away blindly and thoroughly in every possible way. Funnily enough, you managed to keep some of your sanity while doing so or pretended to when you were falling apart when they were too scared to keep you.
Nov 2, 2017
Nov 2, 2017 at 11:37 AM UTC
As I brushed off
The six week old dust
Off the mirror the other day,
I was happily taken aback to see
Myself a tad bit prettier, after weeks.
Funnily enough, I had made
The mistake of believing my
Reflection to be me.
Introspection's a better mirror,
I reflected.
Why does one look into the mirror everyday?
To remind himself how, or rather who he is?
That opaque shard of glass
Could never encompass
The zoetic surge of thoughts
That have gushed forth from me
Since the time I have existed.
I'm sure, the mirror pities
It's own lack of identity.
Manipulated by reflections
Of a myriad kind,
The mirror manipulates us thus,
Mirroring us and itself
In another way.
They thought this opaque shard of glass
Could contain the infinitude within us.
It has only mirrored the illusions
We projected each time we looked into it.
I am only distanced from myself
Each time I seek to find myself
In that stagnant pool of perceptions.
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 1:33 PM UTC
Five days. It has been five days since I've wrote anything down.It's typical that inspiration comes when I'm furthest from the pen: driving, working, high, drunk. I'm drowning in excuses when all I need to do is attach my lazy *** to the chair and keyboard. I still haven't fixed my typewriter.
I prefer the company of girls because I've always felt distant from my father. Funnily enough - people compare us all the time. Even I can see it now, as I am writing this. I don't want to fault him. He worked hard to make my life relatively easy. But the disconnect is there.
These colt 45 cans aren't treating me very well. Neither is my empty stomach. Who cares? not me. Apathy is the plague of the millennial generation. And I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by sanity. Props to Ginsberg for that line.
The night is early and I have work at nine.
I'm going to keep on drinking this awful beer and see what happens.
Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 1:25 PM UTC
lingering,
dab, we’re spitting,
moisten our fingers
and spread an understanding fear
quickly on our foreheads,
a mark of thoughts unread,
drenched neatly
reading themselves and tying
knots in chewed, spat-out
hair, textured thick and tuggable.
my my,
how you’ve changed,
apologies accepted and regurgitated,
bruises healed,
a roughening granite pattern
pressed on your skin
for attention purposes,
a knowledge bank.
a scream flips itself,
fetal in the wires of your words,
read underneath, through the sickness
there’s a density
gentle and curved,
it waves funnily at strangers
and cowers in front of that black dog,
she sleeps on the porch
because of her lack of emotion.
Feb 2, 2011
Feb 2, 2011 at 4:45 PM UTC
They said it was a category five
Thank god its roar
Turn into a category four
Laying waste to many a life
Wiping away the property
The Caribbean’s sign of liberty
From the mishap of Grenada in 1983
10 dead
They can still look ahead
But the thoughts keep going to Florida
But didn’t think Trump kept you in his thoughts did ya
Took you a while to get the evacuation through
As the political tensions grew
And Trump declared it as not good not good
The closest you can come to trifling is by saying that Irma isn’t the result of a good mood
But enough chitter chatter because there is an SOS on the rise
In such a situation climate deniers consider climate change to be the reason as their surmise
Rush Limbaugh cannot see the truth
Because his face is buried deep in the smoke that will pollute
Hurricane Irma I pray the woman in your name understands and leaves the children alone
Because there are no sins to atone for if they are orphaned and dead alone
They’ll be on the prowl for food and money and liquor and ending up appraising the days that are sunny
But funnily anyway they are because you business ******* have increased your influx of money from the disaster stricken many
Water, air trips you’ve been taking business studies from **** Cheney
Sep 10, 2017
Sep 10, 2017 at 2:23 PM UTC
broken hearts leave scars sometimes
i would know because my sister has scars on her wrist
she told me that her heart broke and the pieces of the torn apart *****
played songs upon her wrists
they danced with their other half whilst leaving blood red trails
and when the scars formed
that was when they died
they left a slight exhibition on her wrists
and they're fading now
just like a corpse would do
if it'd been buried under the ground for so many years
my sister isn't heart anymore
she said that she needed to go find herself
in happiness so she left and my mother told me that
she won't be returning for awhile because
she's moving in with her happiness
that so funnily happens to be in the sky
and sometimes my sister comes to visit
but she only waves and then disappears
i miss her all of the time
i miss her when the sun shines
when the rain pours
when the snow falls
and when the wind blows
(a.t)
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 8:31 AM UTC
they reject
different lovers
that’s lovers who
are different, don’t they?
but we are different
in their eyes
though our hearts do not tell us so
and we love
it’s you and I
and though the world
may point to color and language and region
and put up barriers of creed and dogma
and funnily enough
they all teach love and then put it aside
when it comes to practice
which means they really preach love with conditions
which is not love, is it?
but we in love
we put aside everything
for it is love
that renewed radiant moment that matters
and all there is
the love untainted;
let them talk of differences;
we celebrate love
Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 7:21 PM UTC
I tell a lie when I say
Poems in mind always play
Streams on endless output
My mind is never vacantly mute.
To tell you the truth it oft happens
When riding to work on buses or trains
Like a lost river dry up my thoughts
Stubbornly dry much like walnuts.
Funnily it doesn’t for long last
It’s preordained mind mustn’t rust
A fellow traveler brings out an apple
Nibble at it with it grapple.
In boredom my eyes at the scene gape
How the apple gradually changes shape
With each bite a chunk is torn
In each bite a poem is born.
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 12:22 PM UTC
The first drop of honeydew,
the divine sweetness that I never knew,
It's all artificial that, much I'm aware
But God Forbidden,
it's hard to bear.
One by one, these pills,
I clasp in one hand
and pour water to run them down quickly,
slowly, they take their roots
grew out, only to turn out so beautifully
a shame it's a sight only I can see.
somehow, it made me realize that they are
like blossoming roses just for me
a whole garden has been opened
funnily enough,
I've become a gardener of this ecstasy,
I've arrived Knowingly and unknowingly.
to the door which I've opened
where I'm welcomed and beloved
by only those lovingly me
tenderly.
Feb 8, 2025
Feb 8, 2025 at 4:09 PM UTC
They lowered the dead body into frozen soil and
frost smoke arose or was a door opened into hell?
A **** imp stood by the door to welcome the dead.
Who giggled the imp walked so funnily on hooves.
The imp saw the snigger and took offence the dead
one apologized after all it had been a long day.
They sat in the ante- chamber and chatted about this
and that the imp asked what are you doing here
I thought you were destined for the place in the pie
In the sky Can't bear ****** harp music and virgins
With damp hands. The imp went purple on blaming
the Chinese for taken the last reserve of coal and hell
would freeze over they had to go above ground to use
the solar power. You are coming to the right place
the four horsemen are riding again, the dead one said.
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 4:06 PM UTC