"giggly" poems
Fragmented lives entangled
but asunder in our journey
as our paths cosmically connect
in a romance of the arts
And who's to say what's real
to touch or deeply feel
what will truly last
or simply where to start
So I’ll
paint you alla prima
as I feel you playing me
in warm colors of merging ardor
a wet blending of artistry
my brush strokes of your body
painted in my mind
of impressions blushed in passion
in hues I can’t describe
Suspended in the moment
floating on a breeze
I revel in this picture painted music
almost in disbelief, unthinking…
knowing every nuance of our love
found only in our dreams
Like children in parallel play
I’ll finger the keys
and slip the locks
of all your orchestrations
filling the walls
of my concerts halls
with deep
splattered tones
in pinks and blues
the hues
that forever
bind us
And we’ll not look back
nor forward
but hang here in the moment
to display our
Painted Song
in the eyes
of giggly children
both doing
our own thing
together
on a string
curated
Aug 21, 2017
Aug 21, 2017 at 6:22 AM UTC
happiness...is everything. Happiness isnt based on money and sometimes not even on what you're doing. Its about who your with.
its about living with no regrets
And realising that a bad thing will last a few months, so who cares if he doesnt ask you out? who cares what your parents catch doing with the one who does? and who cares what anyone says about you.
Happiness is taking a risk
and it pays off
and even if it doesnt
another oppurtunity presents itself.
happiness is staying up all night with your frends.
happiness is water fights on late summer evenings.
happiness is love....lust only gives moments of happiness to the fact you cant believe you have that person...love leaves you eternally in wonder of how you ended up feeling so right.
happiness is being with your friends and wearing crazy *** hats in public
happiness is seeing a familiar face in nevr ending sea of lies.
happiness is no homework
happiness is having tickle fights with the one you love
happiness is lying in the sun looking at the clouds
happiness is doing wat you want to do
happiness is helping one another
happiness if giving all of you no matter how much you recieve in return
happiness is being able to speak your mind
happiness is knowing you have earnt all the praise you get and being able to say thank you...not going red, studying your shoelaces and bringing yourself down
happiness is confidence
happiness is working hard for something
happiness is being wateva you want and not caring what anyone says...you only get to live once..you will nevr live it down if you're on your deathbed and you realise that you've spent your whole life being what everyone else wanted you to be. living a lie
happiness is finding out who you are
happiness is coming home and your parents ask you how your day was...evn if u jst grunt back
happiness is singing in the shower as loud as you can...i mean showers hav that magical power that means no-one else can hear you...rite?
happiness is not being afraid to say someone is hot...it makes u all giggly...saying someone is good looking doesnt neccessarily mean you want them
happiness is feeling safe
happiness is feeling wanted
happiness is feeling at peace with yourself
happiness is feeling that someone always has your back
happiness is when something isnt funny..but your so happy to see someone that u cant stop smiling
happiness is that one thing you can nevr really express to someone...its like a drug, it makes you do crazy things...its make you feel ontop of the world.
this made me happy knowing that peopl will read this and feel happy
it made me happy because i made a good attempt to describe something that can nevr be completely decribed.
happiness is the one thing that keeps you going when you're like the single flowers whose colours hav turned to shades of grey
i cant explain this happiness
Jun 19, 2019
Jun 19, 2019 at 11:17 AM UTC
spring omnipotent goddess thou dost
inveigle into crossing sidewalks the
unwary june-bug and the frivolous angleworm
thou dost persuade to serenade his
lady the musical tom-cat,thou stuffest
the parks with overgrown pimply
cavaliers and gumchewing giggly
girls and not content
Spring, with this
thou hangest canary-birds in parlor windows
spring slattern of seasons you
have ***** legs and a muddy
petticoat,drowsy is your
mouth your eyes are sticky
with dreams and you have
a sloppy body
from being brought to bed of crocuses
When you sing in your whiskey voice
the grass
rises on the head of the earth
and all the trees are put on edge
spring,
of the jostle of
thy ******* and the slobber
of your thighs
i am so very
glad that the soul inside me Hollers
for thou comest and your hands
are the snow
and thy fingers are the rain,
and i hear
the screech of dissonant
flowers,and most of all
i hear your stepping
freakish feet
feet incorrigible
ragging the world,
10.8k
Oct. 25
Everything is different and I don't want to explain things.
Nov. 1
I crave the glittering, garish city lights, the loud raw music, the feeling of being completely and dangerously free.
Nov. 16
My heart hurts.
Nov. 17
I want to love you. I want to love you so much that I can't stop writing beautiful lyrical poems about the stars and my heart beat and your skin and I just want you to love me too.
Nov. 18
I think that if he knew me, really knew me, at all times of the day and night, he wouldn't love me.
Nov. 20
It's really funny how people can change.
Nov. 24
This is not paradise; this is hell.
Nov. 24 (later)
I'm materialistic and shallow, but frankly I don't give a ****
Dec. 14
My heart is literally pounding so hard I can feel it moving up and down in my chest. I'm blushing.
Dec. 20
And the butterflies live on, perpetually fluttering around in little circles in the pit of my stomach.
Dec. 21
He says I'm like a daisy.
Jan. 1
I downed a bottle of sparkles and sang like a drunk man would and he told me he loved me.
Jan. 25
He's so sweet and I think I love him.
Feb. 8
Long, content sigh.
Feb. 14
I'm going to blurt it out all at once because I'm feeling giggly so he stopped at the side of the road and kissed me and I feel like I'm floating.
Feb. 22
I feel trapped.
Feb. 28
He's always on my mind. Always.
March 13
I broke up with him. I'm not upset, and I'm worried about that. I don't feel anything at all. Are feelings supposed to just walk away and disappear like that?
March 29
His voice is irritating. I'm not a damsel in distress.
April 2
I think young love is only a glittering, fleeting illusion. I'm not sad about it.
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 7:30 PM UTC
Almost round 4:00pm two Asian lover dovers with giggly
laughter took the South Bound subway to South Philly.
Their outward display was so neat and pleasing like a painter with my pen I had to write this...
Watching two Asian school youths;
frequently there;
every smile every nuance of expressions,
their soul-mate world
tells about their quiet and giggly adoration
Transformed from their
hard steel bench
is now a park bench
Encompassing strident voices fade;
Their happy world is victorious
She sits upon his lap
And whispers; they faintly laugh
Their entwined thoughts
cannot be pulled asunder
As I write, I observe;
I laugh to myself,
the remembrance
of my soul-mate and myself
many years ago...
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 5:35 PM UTC
it’s real and thick, like, jiggly
tingly and tasty— i said baby i’m
not made for much but giggling
and i can make your night
haven’t spoken since i was out on bond
but you’re super cute more than i
envisioned and you’re good at makeup
makes my feelings all kinds of wiggly
days lost in green oblivion
like a prison weight lugged around
do you remember when you were
with me all skinny and brittle *****
May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 12:49 AM UTC
whats the point of those chemicals
the ones that make me flirty
and giggly
and easy
what's the point of the regret
that makes me groan the next day
and sleep for hours
and sad
i guess those chemicals make you pretty happy
Jul 14, 2013
Jul 14, 2013 at 8:07 PM UTC
so i guess i have to act normal around you
because you can't know you broke my heart
but what's normal?
because before, when i loved you, i wasn't normal
i was flirty and giggly and touching your hair
i was texting and smiling and laughing at all your jokes
and that's not normal
but maybe i still love you
because i still watch your lips when you talk
and that's not normal
but what is?
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 6:24 PM UTC
The envelope was red, white and blue just like the flag
Betsy Ross spent days with bleeding fingers over so many
years ago. It was addressed to me from an unknown sender.
I was giggly, jumpy. Who would write to me? I wasn’t important.
Just a seventh grade nobody stuck in a sparkly purple wheelchair.
Mom said I could join. She secretly wanted her outcast
of a daughter to have a sense of normalcy during her
last fading moments of childhood. I just wanted to have
fun. I wasn’t ready to accept that I was different. I knew
that I was. The stares told me so but I didn’t want to be.
The letter said that I could represent my fine country
as America’s National Teenager. Me? All I had to do was show
my ability by competing in a scholarship pageant. You know,
a beauty pageant except it wasn’t being called so because adults
are trying to be sensitive to teenager’s feelings because we’re
more likely to be sensitive, emotional and prone to disruptive
and potentially harmful outbursts. The perks of being a wallflower.
Teenagers, we know this. We’re also not stupid. I and every
other girl who would participate knew this pageant
was nothing more than a beauty pageant; a popularity
contest. That didn’t keep us from dreaming of becoming
rich and famous, stop the crying fits, hormones from raging
or acting like drama wasn’t our life’s goal and college major.
Four days in Southern Idaho and an eight-hour drive
to and from gave me plenty of time to practice my talent,
an essay. Even then, I knew I had no real physical attributes.
Instead, I shoved my fears aside and wrote, rewrote and polished
my essay on America until my parents, teachers, and friends
repeatedly had to tell me “that’s enough already. You’ll do great.”
I made friends, told stories, laughed until snot came out my nose
and answered the ever cautious “What happened to make you look
that way?” I had the time of my life. I knew I wasn’t going to win
because let’s face it, I’m not pretty enough. And just as predicted,
I left with “Most Inspirational” and cried ugly tears when I
didn’t come home as America’s National Teenager. Looking back,
I was a real American teenager. I don't need a pageant to tell me so.
Aug 9, 2010
Aug 9, 2010 at 9:15 PM UTC
We
cruised
above the Alps
as if we were twin tortoise
rolled over helpless upon our carapace
giggly 'n toasting the cloud cloaked upthrusts.
Nov 4, 2010
Nov 4, 2010 at 10:11 PM UTC
I once bought a box of fresh strawberries
from the market
I've hated strawberries all my life,
but not because of how they tasted,
how they smelled,
or how they looked.
To be honest, I've never really eaten
a strawberry before;
but I just knew I'd hate it.
People think that it was just because
I was a picky eater;
that I wasn't up for trying new things.
I hated strawberries because
people thought all girls were supposed
to like them -- their taste, their scent.
All sweet and innocent and pure and nice.
I hated how they expected me to be
confined in a pink, dainty box,
expected me to like or smell like
fresh fruits and honey,
all sugary and giggly.
So I bought a box of fresh strawberries,
put one in my mouth,
and the rest in the bin.
I still hate strawberries,
but for more reasons now.
Nov 28, 2019
Nov 28, 2019 at 3:12 PM UTC
I hate this time of year.
Everyone's always singing
stupid christmas songs
and wearing even stupider sweaters.
People say 'bah humbug',
I say **** it*.
I hate the cold and snow.
The getting totally twisted off of disgusting eggnog
and falling into bed with your best friend
only to regret it in the morning.
I hate that everyone's so giggly and rosy cheeked.
The old men in the malls posing as the
overweight **** that watches us all while we're sleeping.
I hate the gaudy wrapping
paper hiding pointless gifts
no one really needs.
And the people who're usually ********
kissing up to get something good.
I hate how lovey-dovey everyone is,
holding hands and snuggling in public places.
And how everyone has someone to kiss
when the ball drops on New Years.
Everyone but me.
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 10:50 AM UTC
"I am not going to be in another relationship"
And now I have
warm
giggly
joyful
feelings for everyone
"I just want to finish the year by myself"
And now life is throwing me
chance
after
chance
that are all amazing
I do not need anyone
-r.y.s
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 1:18 AM UTC
*** 101
by Michael R. Burch
That day the late spring heat
steamed through the windows of a Crayola-yellow schoolbus
crawling its way up the backwards slopes
of Nowheresville, North Carolina ...
Where we sat exhausted
from the day’s skulldrudgery
and the unexpected waves of muggy,
summer-like humidity ...
Giggly first graders sat two abreast
behind senior high students
sprouting their first sparse beards,
their implausible bosoms, their stranger affections ...
The most unlikely coupling―
Lambert, 18, the only college prospect
on the varsity basketball team,
the proverbial talldarkhandsome
swashbuckling cocksman, grinning ...
Beside him, Wanda, 13,
bespectacled, in her primproper attire
and pigtails, staring up at him,
fawneyed, disbelieving ...
And as the bus filled with the improbable musk of her,
as she twitched impaled on his finger
like a dead frog jarred to life by electrodes,
I knew ...
that love is a forlorn enterprise,
that I would never understand it.
Keywords/Tags: first, love, *** lust, passion, desire, school, bus, foreplay, ********* odor, musk
Apr 27, 2020
Apr 27, 2020 at 4:29 AM UTC
At my antique womanly age,
I have reached beyond cynicism stage,
I am quite blasé about hyperbole,
Hearsay evidence about chicks like me,
You're wasting your time, unfortunately,
Old bags like me are basically resilient, you see,
I've had 700 billion lovers, it seems,
Plus or minus 10%, is that how you deem?
Contemplation on such matters makes me giggly!
Yes, quite blasé about hyperbole,
You're wasting your time, quite definitely!!!
Aug 29, 2016
Aug 29, 2016 at 2:59 AM UTC
Someday I shall dwell
In a townhouse by the square
Surrounded by a picket fence
Which guards yellow daffodils
The color of butter, the scent of cheer.
A strip of the town shall be laid
In cobblestone, each side of the road
Embellished with tall, San Francisco buildings
Each its own, and each a new hue.
In the morning I will wake
The same time as the sun
And amble down the seashore
Discerning every seafull, eyeing every seashell,
I shall smile as the wet sand
Squelches through my toes
And the tide comes in,
For I will be happy.
In the afternoons, I’ll laze about,
Meet a friend for coffee,
I shall linger at the bay where the ferries come in
Smell the salt as it spritzes my skin.
There will be a cheerful man on Mondays
Who pushes a white cart up and down streets
Wielding balloons of every color
For giggly children, hands covered in lollipop residue.
I shall smile at night
When the moon rules the sky
And gleams through my window,
For I will be happy.
Feb 9, 2010
Feb 9, 2010 at 12:56 PM UTC
I’m Oxfam clothed and head full of henna,
he’s Age Concern dressed for less than a tenner.
Does this make us rivals or more compatible?
Anything’s possible now I’m out of hospital,
picking his path oblivious to obstacles,
catching him in an unguarded interval;
he’s too hospitable to swerve my tentacles
and I too intent on the prey.
“What’s with the titfer?” I bubble up giggly,
kissing his cheek and trying his trilby,
holding his eyes – why should I feel guilty?
If he’ll play Jesus lurking in Gethsemane
then I’ll be Judas flirting with the enemy.
Don’t say betrayal and the double agent,
I’m just a female at my play station.
He used to be nurse and I the patient,
now we negotiate new relations.
Aspiring to more of an equal footing
I’ve climbed too high and abandoned hoodies,
the dreary woollies, sackcloth and ashes,
the words that stuck to my tongue like glue.
Between heavy make-up and credit crashes
I talk too naughty and hug too warmly –
he must take his turn to be poorly,
his turn to breathe in blue.
In minutes the mood will be mellowing:
I shall saxophone and cello him
and proffer the charms of poor scarred arms,
the burnt flesh of thighs and *******
this sin within my second-hand dress
to caress his heart and capture him.
Wind and string go enrapturing!
Pull him close to the edge of the abyss –
I want him to hang on my lips
as I’ve hung so long on his.
Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 12:39 PM UTC
he says people aren't who they say they are online but then you talk to him on the phone
he says gee your giggly tonight
'wwwwwhhhhhaaaaatttt"? every other word after you say something witty or cute(you think)
SO what are you up to tonight?
Send me a pic
Text me
Send me a pic plllleeeeeaaaseee
Why won't you send me one
come on
Text me
i want to see what you look like.
Come on.....are you *****
Looking for c o c k?
Sends a text message....I'm gonna call in a couple minutes sorry I was busy
ugh .......what the hell just happened? I ask myself.
Did i just speak with the most creepy *** fool I've ever spoke to?
UNLIKE who he was online yesterday
The screen really is a mask isn't it?
May 21, 2012
May 21, 2012 at 11:13 PM UTC
I'm deeply very jealous of others girls
with such profound beauty
the ones that can make everyone twirl
that girl who others want to be around with
a best friend everybody wants to have
with just one look at her, she'll leave you breathless
who could overcome any struggles that life has given
ones with a natural giggly laugh
who could pull off any make up
who could make you laugh so hard, that everyone else already stopped
that perfect smile, that could turn your frown upside down
with a unique style for clothes
having such a magnificent personality
smirk on their face, making you believe everything would be fine
ones that could cheer you up and take your sadness away
the girl who could fight the monsters in her head and fight for your sorrows
But I am sorry
That I am not good enough
like those other girls
who could possibly make you happy
I apologize
For being just me
clumsy, annoying, clingy, insecure, imperfect girl
and for loving you that much
and I am sorry
for being so jealous of other girls
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 7:25 PM UTC
I knew a boy named Paul his eyes a shimmering blue
When he looked am me it was obvious that he knew
My face full of flush and my voice all giggly too
This blue eyed boy was so cute that Id have to stand in queue
The teenager years passed and his girlfriends came and went
My crush on Paul still smelt of heavens scent
The time came to wish Paul a final goodbye
School was over, my heart echoed a sigh
As I sit hear writing I wonder what became of Paul
Is his name still scribbled on the old brick wall ?
I guess I'll never know and I'm fine to keep it that way
But Paul if you're wondering you took my breath away
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 12:39 PM UTC
We were stumbling back to the car, late at night on aching feet,
Our worn out voices sounding raspy and weak
Makeup smudging on our eyelids and cheeks
Arms entangled, it started with you looping your arm through mine,
Then my hand found its way to your shoulder
And somehow we were holding hands again
It was all a blur.
Your words were slow and slurring
As if you were thinking through honey
For me not so,
my mind quick as ever to put my thoughts into words
Instead my insides felt fizzy
Your blurring remarks making me giggly.
“That’s a church”
You mutter faintly,
Waving a hand towards the Cathedral
Giggles escape from my mouth,
Growing into laughter
I try to make it sound dainty.
Perhaps the passerby thought we were drunk,
But we hadn’t had a sip of alcohol
You were drunk on tiredness and music
And I was high on dying love and music.
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 1:03 PM UTC
Confused
I really like you
I enjoy being with you
But I'm not as excited to see you as I was with the rest
I don't know why
I want to be excited
I want to be all giggly and girly about you
But for some reason I just cant.
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 4:23 AM UTC
i’m not depressed.
the only word I can think to describe this is
desolation.
not being with you is just…
like this morning.
i was all happy and giggly and skipping all over the place.
i kept thinking about things i wanted to tell you and i said to myself
“i have to tell him when i get home.”
but then i remembered
i’m not coming home to you.
and suddenly home
didn’t feel like home anymore
there’s emptiness here i can’t explain
can’t escape …
desolation.
i feel
desolate
without you.
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 11:44 PM UTC
Why have I made myself hate me so much? Why are society's standards so incredibly high? Why won't people acknowledge ones true beauty? It's not about the flat stomach, ladies. Not the make-up, either. Nor the hair. Do you need extensions, fake nails or fake eyelashes to feel pretty? The whole messed-up idea is wrong. Why would you put funny-looking, plastic, artificial things on your body? Because we want to look nice. Feel nice. And for us, low-self-esteem girls, well... Lets say we want to accomplish our happiness by being eye-candy. And for that to happen, we have to change our whole selves, of course. Not any part of ourselves will do. We have to become a different person in order to be likeable. We have to be fake, giggly idiots who wear way too much make-up, fancy designers clothes, and expensive jewelry. We have to eat miniature salads to stay fit, and go to the gym everyday. On top of that, if you go to the beach you have to be lady-like and sunbathe all day long (the most boring thing ever). And there you are, amazing tanned body, incredible hair and impeccably dressed. But you know what, little Miss Perfect? You are empty inside. You are shallow. You have nothing left, apart from you looks and your expensive clothing. No real friends. No memories. No life. You were so worried working out and shopping that you didn't notice your life passing by right past you. And you are not growing younger as the minutes go by, sweetheart. One day you'll wake up and realize that you have nothing. Your life is meaningless. It lacks of passion. Love. Adventure. And you start to get wrinkles in the corners of your eyes and mouth. Your hair turns white and you skin is frail.
You can't sleep, for one thought haunts you:
You haven't really lived.
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 1:11 AM UTC
You are taken, and I maybe have him soon..
Though there something that leaves me gobsmacked...
Leaving me to wonder what if's and hows...
Being of the future and the past...
Even while I sit in his arms,
I begin to ponder...
and not of me and him,
it is yet of me and you...
Each time I see you...
I try to keep my feelings back...
Knowing they probably irk you...
Though now things have began to slip out...
You leave me blood-red and giggly,
I still cannot fathom the feelings you give me...
And no need to remind me dear,
for yes I already know... I am a lovesick fool
Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 8:58 PM UTC