"goofballs" poems - Hello Poetry

Always____** Days Months Up to our loved ones necks Getting callbacks and lookbacks Will I be most likely rejected? Until dusk to Dawn The full moon turned What will be expected? Shoved mouth to mouth brewed into the Starbucks With any luck It's hard to make a buck $ The Dawn Lightning Striking again wetter Ridiculous remarks and kicks in the pants He shoved me into a romance But we never ended up where I wanted to go France The editorial the Mediterranean Slim chance rainbow diet The villas of the exotic flowers riot Vacationer in vineyards Grassy bear Mr. Griswald Vacation despair Party pushovers The sour cherries OOh! La Wee Vacation, The push and shove What's up Doc_____* The jilted Jump always a stump What-what about the President Trump Shoved me right into this poem sonnet Documents of Vacations places of memories The Jack *** Surrounded by screwdriver Or meeting the screwballs_______ Or goofballs Sesame Street parade Big bird feast His face climbed Mount Everest Dry mouth lips ((Frenchie Vermouth)) He's the right fielder The field Mr. Costner on her left dreams The toast all shoved around the town chauffeur Don't shove me inside your world vacation Big problems not like ordering the best pizza in Brooklyn Memorial day shoved into a soiree' Unbelievable traffic American Major problem leagues Upscale love signs and graphics To resolve this Vacation big shots The London Hotshots Society At the worst time, I had to do Political speech Don't shove me or leave me If you're not going to please me And not your payroll to tease me He's next on the move pushed to be shoved I rose I suppose He shoved me He gazed upon me Like another ticket to his vacation He dazed with his eyes not to be loved But all yummy To take a bite Apple strudel pie But dark ends of petal flowered bright The last word struggling to feel shot My payroll got me a raise My own vacation to myself big praise to love me Not to be pushed to love someone A vacation is to be with someone that treats you on a pedestal Don't shove me this is my portal

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May 25, 2018

May 25, 2018 at 2:44 PM UTC

robinHelloRow

Shove me Vacation

Always____** Days Months Up to our loved ones necks Getting callbacks and lookbacks Will I be most likely rejected? Until dusk to Dawn The full moon turned What will be expected? Shoved mouth to mouth brewed into the Starbucks With any luck It's hard to make a buck $ The Dawn Lightning Striking again wetter Ridiculous remarks and kicks in the pants He shoved me into a romance But we never ended up where I wanted to go France The editorial the Mediterranean Slim chance rainbow diet The villas of the exotic flowers riot Vacationer in vineyards Grassy bear Mr. Griswald Vacation despair Party pushovers The sour cherries OOh! La Wee Vacation, The push and shove What's up Doc_____* The jilted Jump always a stump What-what about the President Trump Shoved me right into this poem sonnet Documents of Vacations places of memories The Jack *** Surrounded by screwdriver Or meeting the screwballs_______ Or goofballs Sesame Street parade Big bird feast His face climbed Mount Everest Dry mouth lips ((Frenchie Vermouth)) He's the right fielder The field Mr. Costner on her left dreams The toast all shoved around the town chauffeur Don't shove me inside your world vacation Big problems not like ordering the best pizza in Brooklyn Memorial day shoved into a soiree' Unbelievable traffic American Major problem leagues Upscale love signs and graphics To resolve this Vacation big shots The London Hotshots Society At the worst time, I had to do Political speech Don't shove me or leave me If you're not going to please me And not your payroll to tease me He's next on the move pushed to be shoved I rose I suppose He shoved me He gazed upon me Like another ticket to his vacation He dazed with his eyes not to be loved But all yummy To take a bite Apple strudel pie But dark ends of petal flowered bright The last word struggling to feel shot My payroll got me a raise My own vacation to myself big praise to love me Not to be pushed to love someone A vacation is to be with someone that treats you on a pedestal Don't shove me this is my portal

139

My cherry tree stands quite tall, bearing fruits and flowers Good for climbing and snacking, breathing and thinking Walk out upon a limb, and lean against a branch To calm and relax and hang out with friends Laughing and joking, playing and singing Hot sticky summers, made all the stickier by cherries Sunshine dappled grass beneath the tree The perfect Treffpunkt for all us monkeys and goofballs.

0

Nov 4, 2012

Nov 4, 2012 at 5:22 PM UTC

luckyqueue

my transcendentalist tree

My cherry tree stands quite tall, bearing fruits and flowers Good for climbing and snacking, breathing and thinking Walk out upon a limb, and lean against a branch To calm and relax and hang out with friends Laughing and joking, playing and singing Hot sticky summers, made all the stickier by cherries Sunshine dappled grass beneath the tree The perfect Treffpunkt for all us monkeys and goofballs.

8

And then it got worse no pens would work I couldn't escape into verse nothing rhymed without reason I drank and became hopeful but there were goofballs in the soup and my hope began to droop A hissing hissed and I felt I couldn't die not ever or forever that hell emerged slowly gutting my army of pawns Strangers were disappointed in me I paid the homeless for company and tried desperately to warm my hands over a garbage can of dying rage

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Aug 10, 2012

Aug 10, 2012 at 3:36 AM UTC

jessica-merkling-dittmar

Submission

And then it got worse no pens would work I couldn't escape into verse nothing rhymed without reason I drank and became hopeful but there were goofballs in the soup and my hope began to droop A hissing hissed and I felt I couldn't die not ever or forever that hell emerged slowly gutting my army of pawns Strangers were disappointed in me I paid the homeless for company and tried desperately to warm my hands over a garbage can of dying rage

16

No way Jose sitting at the stop light racing my engine real loud looking in my rear view mirror waiting for the next sucker pipes bellowing a cracking sound drawing attention everyone was staring I had attracted a rather large crowd this dude pulls up next to me a kiss I throw as my lips I pucker there was no doubt a good *** kicking was my intention he raced the engine of his helpless piece of crap thinking he would impress me with his guile he had no idea who he was messing with poor ******* the light turned green and the fire belched a thunder clap screaming off the line leaving burnt rubber in a pile this look of horror on the goofballs face my reflexes so mastered as he faded to the background becoming a mere dot I was keenly engrossed my mind so focused eyes transfixed there was not a chance in hell no none not this day I chuckled to myself as I cruised to the next challenging spot there was not going to be any caring today no emotions mixed looking in my mirror once again no not today no way Jose Gomer LePoet....

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Sep 22, 2011

Sep 22, 2011 at 11:26 AM UTC

david-nelson

No way Jose'

No way Jose sitting at the stop light racing my engine real loud looking in my rear view mirror waiting for the next sucker pipes bellowing a cracking sound drawing attention everyone was staring I had attracted a rather large crowd this dude pulls up next to me a kiss I throw as my lips I pucker there was no doubt a good *** kicking was my intention he raced the engine of his helpless piece of crap thinking he would impress me with his guile he had no idea who he was messing with poor ******* the light turned green and the fire belched a thunder clap screaming off the line leaving burnt rubber in a pile this look of horror on the goofballs face my reflexes so mastered as he faded to the background becoming a mere dot I was keenly engrossed my mind so focused eyes transfixed there was not a chance in hell no none not this day I chuckled to myself as I cruised to the next challenging spot there was not going to be any caring today no emotions mixed looking in my mirror once again no not today no way Jose Gomer LePoet....

20

it makes me sad to think we'll never be that way again and we'll never be how we could be even though we could be don't mistake my longing for a lack of appreciation i am so blessed to have you here with me friends, close as ever, despite everything but i can just see it singing with you in the kitchen random hours of the night early 2000s hits dancing like the goofballs we are i want that with you but you don't want it with me and that's okay but **** if it doesn't hurt

0

Feb 11, 2018

Feb 11, 2018 at 5:04 AM UTC

polychroma

4:03 am

it makes me sad to think we'll never be that way again and we'll never be how we could be even though we could be don't mistake my longing for a lack of appreciation i am so blessed to have you here with me friends, close as ever, despite everything but i can just see it singing with you in the kitchen random hours of the night early 2000s hits dancing like the goofballs we are i want that with you but you don't want it with me and that's okay but **** if it doesn't hurt

16

The best way to find "home" is to take it with you. "Home" is not the quiet street you grew up on. "Home" is not the school that was three blocks away that your mom would walk you to in the mornings. "Home" was not the place where you broke your arm. "Home" is not the beautiful apartment you moved into with your girlfriend when you finally started learning who you are. It's not that simple. "Home" was never a place. "Home" is the feeling. The memories. To look around and know that you're safe, and that the people around you love you. "Home" was never the ****** job you enjoyed because it was close and they had free coffee and donuts if you were early enough. "Home" isn't the place where those nightmares originated. "Home" is quite often the place that you die, if you're lucky enough. "Home" is the feeling you get when the golden-orange sunbeams ignite all the floating dust particles as it leaks in through the windows, and you can smell the candles burning from years ago, from your first memory of seeing that happen. "Home" is the place where you stay up with her till two in the morning making cookies, when you both have to be up for eight in the morning. "Home" is the place where you dance like goofballs in the living room, or, maybe not like goofballs, maybe like two people who were long since destined for the gallows but found absolution and salvation in the others welcoming smile and embrace. "Home" is the place where you lay your head down at night, and the last thing you see is the same as the first thing you saw that morning, and the next thing you'll see when you open them again; her. "Home" is wherever you want it to be, with all of the people that you want there. "Home" comes from within, as well as without. The best way to find "home" is to take it with you wherever you go. Keep it in a locket, or in a picture you can pull out of your wallet or your purse, or keep as your phone background because it's the 21st century now and everyone has cell phones and that's just what we do. Whatever the case is, whatever it may be for you...just, go home.

0

Dec 17, 2015

Dec 17, 2015 at 12:09 AM UTC

tim-isabella

Home.

The best way to find "home" is to take it with you. "Home" is not the quiet street you grew up on. "Home" is not the school that was three blocks away that your mom would walk you to in the mornings. "Home" was not the place where you broke your arm. "Home" is not the beautiful apartment you moved into with your girlfriend when you finally started learning who you are. It's not that simple. "Home" was never a place. "Home" is the feeling. The memories. To look around and know that you're safe, and that the people around you love you. "Home" was never the ****** job you enjoyed because it was close and they had free coffee and donuts if you were early enough. "Home" isn't the place where those nightmares originated. "Home" is quite often the place that you die, if you're lucky enough. "Home" is the feeling you get when the golden-orange sunbeams ignite all the floating dust particles as it leaks in through the windows, and you can smell the candles burning from years ago, from your first memory of seeing that happen. "Home" is the place where you stay up with her till two in the morning making cookies, when you both have to be up for eight in the morning. "Home" is the place where you dance like goofballs in the living room, or, maybe not like goofballs, maybe like two people who were long since destined for the gallows but found absolution and salvation in the others welcoming smile and embrace. "Home" is the place where you lay your head down at night, and the last thing you see is the same as the first thing you saw that morning, and the next thing you'll see when you open them again; her. "Home" is wherever you want it to be, with all of the people that you want there. "Home" comes from within, as well as without. The best way to find "home" is to take it with you wherever you go. Keep it in a locket, or in a picture you can pull out of your wallet or your purse, or keep as your phone background because it's the 21st century now and everyone has cell phones and that's just what we do. Whatever the case is, whatever it may be for you...just, go home.

1

Ten Koruna rooms, ****** doused in red light. Purple, then blue. Sickness and health dancing In the street to the thumping bebop of the night Veins and heads filled to the brink with: Crank, smack, **** goofballs, Neon lights. The bad ***** is optional. The city twists and bends in the chrysalis night, uncoiling. Azure skies of deep summer, polluted Only by the glare of candles In living souls on slow pavement. They burn, burn, burn, bury their heads In thrills and friends. They burn until there is nothing left, But a white speck of off white wax sizzling Away in the darkness.

0

May 1, 2014

May 1, 2014 at 2:27 PM UTC

peter-christian-ness

Ode to Politickych Veznu

Ten Koruna rooms, ****** doused in red light. Purple, then blue. Sickness and health dancing In the street to the thumping bebop of the night Veins and heads filled to the brink with: Crank, smack, **** goofballs, Neon lights. The bad ***** is optional. The city twists and bends in the chrysalis night, uncoiling. Azure skies of deep summer, polluted Only by the glare of candles In living souls on slow pavement. They burn, burn, burn, bury their heads In thrills and friends. They burn until there is nothing left, But a white speck of off white wax sizzling Away in the darkness.

20