"gribble" poems
Today I took a stroll.
I found a dusty beard and I knew it would suit my face.
Now this beard I cannot erase.
News gribble.
When I sleep, on my beard I dribble.
Some days I wish my beard would melt away.
But usually, I accept that on my face the beard will stay.
Quirt on the squirt. Squirt it off.
That's all it took. Now it's gone. Oh floff my toff!
Now I am nothing but a beardless face.
Aug 17, 2011
Aug 17, 2011 at 12:05 AM UTC
Thoughts unfurl like smoke.
You blew a circle of it,
your face lay in the centre
encircled by the grey, billowing fumes.
Beautiful
ever-changing,
twirling plumes.
We accept our fates blindly
like mice.
Sipping ***** from a jar
that once held
Ragu.
A Frisbee as an ashtray
I’m dancing stupidly with you
Ol’ detective Gribble
who dribbles down the phone
and whispers: “sweet nothings”
in my ear,
I hear.
Oct 5, 2010
Oct 5, 2010 at 8:36 AM UTC
Two million years from now
sergeant frog will be walking
shouting at his froglettes
get out your guns with bayonets poking
He will babble on the marshland
make Gribble and Gibble
his second and third in command
he's a ****** this frog, please understand
Get off your Lilly pads you sons of a guns
go boy's by the whistle
or get one in the back
come on lads, I hold that pistol
After he will send a telegraph
saying your son is missing
yet Sergeant knows
only Lilly pads are his grunts kissing
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
By NeonSolaris
© 2011 NeonSolaris (All rights reserved)
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 5:14 AM UTC
Time passes on
Seconds share
Beats roll
Head shakes
Wondering
What next
I’m so curious to know.
Excited for the unplanned
This image I form my eyes are strange, tongue is twisted my head is on my neck.
How know to be human.
Give me a ride I’m a rock star, we are on the mission of midnight
Sugar coated but baby I like it on my face.
Oh yes I went there
Passionate, yes
It’s a backseat dare
Hold on to the fire where burning in this land
I don’t understand you
Impossible
I stubble
Gribble
Digging in my pockets.
Mar 6, 2011
Mar 6, 2011 at 4:09 PM UTC
Manifest destiny as a sketch in my notebook,
Where young run foaming at the mouth with hate.
Born without a face; She’s got everyone’s eyes.
She prays and suffocates, as if in a dream
Where death lives on safe from the screams.
Hides festering hopes, like ashes in the fall,
She’s certain there’s more to escape from the pain,
In a world of violent rage;
I’m choking on the smoke that fills my home,
While here we lie in tombs with our flesh and bones;
Hatred passed on, passed on, and passed on.
Crawl amidst the ruins of this, there be no shelter here
Empty dream, I dwell in hell; relive the nightmare.
Crawl with me into tomorrow, it’s caged and frozen still.
Like the sun disappears only to reappear on a bed of fire,
A hell that I can grip. But I slipped, an existence mundane.
Like swollen stomachs swallow the one that made you ill;
There is no other pill to take, their existence is a crime.
Catch me when I fall, Death is on my side.
Dressed in slow death born as ghosts,
Ghosts of progress walk unseen,
Past the graves and the gates;
Your voice it is so soothing,
I’m empty, please fill me.
-SLuR
Jun 28, 2017
Jun 28, 2017 at 1:56 PM UTC