"hiccup" poems
A uniquely unique me,
Is all I wanna be!
When you can be so special,
Why waste your own potential?
When I can move my ears,
And growl (although it's queer)
And choose how loud to ****
--consider it a type of art
When I can hiccup-fart-sneeze,
And appreciate blue cheese
And laugh and chortle and guffaw
--all my friends stare in awe.
When I can recite so many words,
(It doesn't mean I'm a nerd)
And snack 20 times a day
--don't judge okay...
When you can do all that,
Why feel the need to act?
Please just accept the fact
You are you and that's that!
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 8:37 AM UTC
Maybe I should give up?
Maybe I should stop?
Maybe I should let go?
Or maybe its just a small hiccup?
I see things I worry about,
Or at least I think I should,
But who knows what will happen
Anything could.
So do I sit here and worry?
Sit here in fear?
Or get over it?
letting the chance of pain draw near.
Of course I'm afraid,
Who wouldn't be?
he thought of losing a loved one
It doesn't frighten only me.
So I guess I should figure it out,
one way or the other,
But I hope my fears are wrong,
Because I don't want to lose another...
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 4:18 AM UTC
The Horse Race.
The announcer says the horse is at the gate.
There is wee ***** on your just silly;
Patty shes riding cupcake bite.
**** hes on hiccup.
The gate open and they are off. It's **** on hiccup, cup cake and wee ***** on just silly.
As the get to turn one it's ***** on just silly,Dick has hiccup at second and patty riding third with cupcake.
In turn two it's just silly,hiccup and cupcake. Turn four its cupcake,hick just silly
And now at the wire you got hiccup just silly and cupcake.
People we have to stop the race. Wee ***** on just silly ate patty cupcake which gave him the hiccups.
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 7:13 PM UTC
Oh Eliot, Poor Eliot, Your Fans Hung You in the Closet and I'm Feelin' So Sad^
<>
we tithed thee with donations plenty,
here a dollar, there a fiver, a coupon for free chips,
worthy of somebody’s eternal gratitude,
that would be you,
da Duke, Duke of York
the largest online free poetry site,
a million visitors a day, why you must be
the richest poet online billionaire, right?
you,
da Duke, Duke of York and
occasional poet...
in return, all we occasional poets demand
steady on instant access, immediate satisfaction,
after all, a part time job deserves your bestus-best,
just like every other large online site, that never crashes,
we’re not like just the rest, we are
p o e t s,
occasionally
so keep the servers engines, well stoked with Newcastle coal,
keep them up and running round the clock,
using only alternative energy,
of the unceasing sun light of merry old England!
quit that other job, you must,
instead of giving up on us,
give in to us,
a poetry break, a writing recharge,
though please add a limited liability
clause to the FAQ’s,
that poets’ lives must deal with the hiccup
occasional
you, da Duke, Duke of York,
newly now, an appointment royale as Major General,^^
you, the very model of a modern major general
possessing information vegetable, animal, mineral and
technical,
who knows the Queens of England, who,
maybe even now is telling tales of your heroics with the hordes of
hysterical
occasional
poetical
globalists
demanding
light brigadests
charging the redoubt
and
when you have a moment spare,
a haircut, please.
no, that is not a request,
naturally
<>
10/19/19
Noontime NYC
natalino
Oct 19, 2019
Oct 19, 2019 at 12:21 PM UTC
Okay... see... I really like this girl and I've liked her for a while. She's a silly type of girl that would go the extra mile for any guy that might want *** from the forest to the tile. They might seem as sweet as can be, but they turn out to be vile. There's this one stupid guy who's only nice perk was his smile. He got her pregnant last year and she's about to have a child. I guess this was bound to happen, cause she's that type of wild that would get married at 18 and then immediately file for divorce in the courts, of course this would happen. While I'm studying the art of pickup, she gets sitting on his lap and then he might decide to stick his **** up and start clappin, cause I was never able to man up and I was too scared to tap in. I guess my major hiccup was my constant state of rapping. Where has poetry ever even gotten me. Just a hobby while I'm stuck in this secluded monotony. I just hope one day I can say someone spotted me. In the meantime I'll be a lonely poet in the club of 'Forgotten Thee'.
Feb 6, 2019
Feb 6, 2019 at 10:45 PM UTC
Hiccups in my throat
Hiccups in my mouth
Hiccups in my life
Hiccups coming out.
I was my parents Hiccup.
One of many mistakes,
My whole life is one big Hiccup,
And mine that I shall take.
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 8:43 PM UTC
I'm pretty sure
Eyes glaring
At the surface of my soul
Isn't supposed to feel
Any less like a stabbing to the heart.
But it does.
You have cupped
My burdens
In both of your hands
And sprinkled them over
The driest corners of my mind,
Watered them,
And let them grow
Slowly
Into something lovely.
I'm pretty sure
That every hiccup of an
'I miss you'
Isn't supposed to
Cause my blood
To blush warm.
But it does.
You toy with words
In the best way
Making sure each syllable
Is coated in
Silky persuasion
And I try,
Believe me, I do,
To let them sink
Into this heart,
You've called beautiful
Far too many times.
I'm pretty sure
Your lips have quivered
And tired of
Grinning encouragements
And whispering warmth
And uttering
'I love you's
But they haven't.
For this, I am pleased.
And this fluttering thing
Residing in my chest
Can't find a way out
To tell you,
To thank you.
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 5:09 AM UTC
Planned a long road trip
In the name of friendship
Seven hundred miles that day
Home and bed five miles away
Midnight sky with fireworks high
Red “H” on engine gauge much closer by
The sight was quite a fright
No longer feeling such delight
Pulling to the side
My time to bide
Until a tow appears
To relieve my fears
Mosquitos delight
They win the fight
On the interstate highway
Above their lakeside byway
Vibrations move the car
While passing trucks go far
E.T.A. at 1 am
Police set flares at 2 am
2:20 rolled around
At last the car was found
Speedy hookup
Not another hiccup
Left car at garage
Free ride home removed my rage
Doubled the driver’s tip
Reduced the bother to a blip
3am can go to bed
Yet so wired in my head
It takes an hour to mellow out
In four more, the sun from bed will rout
Was it worth it in the end?
Any day, I’d do it for my friend.
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 7:05 AM UTC
I just want to play along
I just lost my train of thought
Maybe this hiccup they forgot
The spoon full of sugar we gaze upon
Not to be noticed
Is the coldest
Time of year
Set of scenery
I'm not at a loss of words
I just heard them all
To keep from the intent to ****
I have to try real real hard
But someone is going to play my card
Call my bluff
Like I ain't tough
I bend not budge
With every nudge
the knife gets closer
They made me
This way that I am
A personified monster
Man made cluster
But with every ounce of strength
I hang on
But why restrain
what's killing me to contain
Why should I refrain
What's doesn't **** you makes you stronger
But I can't hold on any longer
So what the **** am I suppose to do
Momma said don't let them see you break
Momma said don't let them see you cry
Momma said keep pushing life is hard
Momma said it's alright
But Momma isn't here to kiss my head and tuck me in at night
It's midnight another day I made it
So in my room I cry
Momma said don't show them mercy
So tomorrow is the time I try
How sad that every morning
I keep on mourning
The journey the my day should bring
It's as plain as
The same old story
We tend to hear
And the hardest part is I want to run away
But I'm suppose to take everything with a grain of salt
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 6:46 AM UTC
He doesn't know limits.
2 on the wrist and hand on the 3.
The other is out of the window with a firm grasp on the shoulder
slipping.
A hiccup.
slipping as his words have been doing.
slurred don't take caution nicely
it sounded like he said.
A hiccup
he said he wouldn't
he said he's fine
he said he'll be there
he said something
A hiccup
Something red flashes above him
He doesn't know limits
It stops.
All of it.
Not you, however. You can't.
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 8:59 PM UTC
Pink fluffy apples
Green juicy flamingos (hiccup)
Black sour marmalade
(hiccup)
Orange lumpy liquorice
Purple tangy mushroom
White rich yoghurt
(hiccup)
(hiccup)
(hiccup)
What did you put in my drink?
Mar 30, 2021
Mar 30, 2021 at 10:09 AM UTC
Cricket fever gripped the sub-continent
Pakistan could not wipe out the sentiment
Against India it lost her match for the fifth time
Even though Tendulkar was not at his prime
This world cup turned out to be all Asian game
The English have slowly lost their cricketing fame
There will be a fight between the tiger and the lion
Who knows who will surely win
Sachin achieved every thing except the world cup
I hope he will get it without any hiccup
India and Srilanka reached finals thrice
If India wins the cup I feel very nice
Mar 31, 2011
Mar 31, 2011 at 6:56 AM UTC
The air conditioner hiccups,
as the second half of
Cole Berlin crosses himself--
a face deeply creased by consequence,
looks to the west,
a surrendering sun fractured--
broken by hundreds of stories--
tons of concrete--
mountains of glass,
and the gentlest gloom.
Mr. Berlin's body devours itself--
as the critics and even the diehard fans
run out of time to play "remember when".
The reality enters,
at first no more than an annoying stomach pang,
then growing,
feasting,
shouting,
until each cell knows--
no time for the comeback.
Whatever beams of sun were once banded,
now dismiss themselves,
as night subs in--
Mr. Berlin, closes the curtains of his mind,
falls to the floor,
"Sorry folks, no encore this time".
A week he lay festering,
no more a replica--
only a ruin.
A fly in a web,
rotating on a world without end,
the record, it spits, skips, smolders in ditch,
contaminating the soil,
the virus gently purrs perfection,
no hiccup, no hallucination--
only swag up for collection.
Mar 14, 2011
Mar 14, 2011 at 7:12 PM UTC
Hic.
Hic.
Hiccup.
Dang it. They're back.
Hiccup.
Right when you least expect them.
Hiccup.
Let me hold my breath.
One Mississippi, Two Mississi-
Hiccup.
Nope.
You think someone could be missing me?
Hiccup.
You.
It can't be you.
I just gave up on the concept of us.
How would you know I gave up?
Did your soul sense my pain?
They're gone.
You are my cure for hiccups,
and more.
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 2:17 AM UTC
I've stayed up for you
In my mascara
Just in case.
Again.
As, more alcohol than man,
Your hands stumbling over the keys like your feet on the ground.
You tell me I'm beautiful, but it's obviously not enough.
Money is too tight to cross the water like I've done.
But there's just enough for the pub
With someone who's not dad or brother.
This pause is a hint for you to tell me it's not what I think it is.
Your head lolls.
Oblivious to mine whirring.
Eyes widening
I hold back x's
In the hope that you'll notice that
You've ****** up.
You were right all along
I deserve better, but don't want it.
I've sat here patiently
An era long enough to gestate
This hate as I fall for you
And ask you kindly what's going on.
Only to get a vague answer,
A drunken phonecall
And a hiccup.
Just tell me what to do here.
If you want me to,
I'll stay
And be yours.
But I can't hover at the bar
While you go up for another drink.
I need someone of my own, not to be owned by someone.
I've stayed up for you
In my mascara
That's running.
Again.
Jun 26, 2011
Jun 26, 2011 at 5:46 PM UTC
I knew she planned on staying.
When she unpacked her belongings.
Mia told me she wasn't playing.
This time, she would cause the falling.
She woke me up the first night,
After he ran away.
Mia's chapped lips whispered our old times,
She reminded me of tooth decay.
For the next few days, Mia was my shadow.
Her doe-eyes trailed my every course.
Waiting patiently for me to plateau,
Before attacking without remorse.
Mia told me she was mending my cuts,
My battered heart, and my sliced legs.
She was making me whole with every hiccup.
He may have left, but she was here to stay.
We held hands throughout the store.
She helped me buy my favorite treats.
Binging together before locking the door.
Purging never tasted so sweet.
Mia held my hair and my pink tongue.
Her fingernails made my throat bleed.
Convinced me secrecy made this fun.
Our kneeling prayers were a mystery.
She wiped my tears with her acidic hands,
And whispered how much she missed me.
Mia uttered how only she would understand
My longing and misery.
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 12:10 AM UTC
I have come to conclusion
My mind has eluded
I am cursed with incurable hiccups
I constantly wait
For that feeling I hate
Random movement too close to my core
I am constantly scared
Given water not air
I am tired of holding my breath
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 12:26 PM UTC
It's Friday night, I knock back five
Then stumble out to hit the club
I catch your eye looking for mine
Looking for a lover you don't have to love
A harried glance, we start the dance
With roaming, groaning hands
And sweat, and grit, and scripted friction
A masterclass of sham romance
But you're not you and I'm not me
And these red cups won't set us free
And I regret the way we met
As faceless strangers in a drunken sea
I wish it were morning
To watch the wind play in your hair
I wish it were morning
To see the sunlight in your stare
I wish it were morning
When I could tell you what I think
I wish it were morning
Without the help of all these drinks
The ***** on your breath, it smells like death
And your lips don't taste quite right
And your Levi jeans pressed up against me
Just aren't doing it tonight
The hiccup when you flirt, and the ***** on your shirt,
Match the beer-stains on your shoes
With your empty flask, and your haggard mask
I just can't stand the sight of you
And while I'd like to spend the night
And wake up warm between the covers
I tip my hat instead, and see you off to bed
Because poets are daytime lovers.
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 4:54 PM UTC
Time has come,
And it never feels like what you envisage.
Shades that were drawn, are now beginning to fade.
Tip your hat to the unknown, be the passenger.
Engage the reverie, evolve as you go.
Dine at the arrangement, the subtle choice.
Entertaining ideas cycling within, a soliloquy echoes through.
An eternity welcomes a chemical release.
Tunnels of hues, overwhelmed and confused.
Hiccup to existence, all are amused
Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 7:12 PM UTC
we went to soften the dog in the way we’d seen our sister softened.
when her heart
was still
a hiccup’s
echo.
her eyesight the sound of a drill.
her eyes
two holes
in a turtle’s
shell
her eyes for seeing
the food in her mouth.
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 4:51 PM UTC
he would be a constant hiccup
if hiccups were lovely
a shocking smile in the hallways
he is a hiccup,
showing up at the worst times
threatening to ruin you
making your heart beat fast
a reminder that you’re still alive
whether you like it or not
Feb 21, 2012
Feb 21, 2012 at 2:07 AM UTC
Papier-mâché skin held up by toothpick bones.
Composed of dainty flowers,
Paired with eggshell tiptoes
Used for skipping and prancing –
Prim, proper, polished
And petite, satin-gloved hands
To scrub the dishes with
Till unblemished to mirror you back, from inside out –
Purged, chaste, elegant.
Fragile.
But papier-mâché has layers of depth and
Skin thicker than at surface it seems.
Toothpicks can pick up the pieces
Of each hiccup or calamity,
Regardless of how small
And despite their size they’re not weak at all,
But, piercing.
Those eggshells shield and yield
The precious prosper of young.
Who’s to say you’re no cactus,
And not just some flimsy petal –
But you can bet you’re just as sweet.
We are composed of the iron
That presses your clothes.
Nip
Like the scorching tea served
On china platters.
Our rosé lips are pursed
Not to kiss, or gloss for backwards fairytales
‘Prince Charming’ turned frogs
But in revolt.
And revolt we will.
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 5:16 PM UTC
Fairness!
vast, equal ideas that claim to propose the similarity of wave particle to the icecaps!
the relation of a quasar to a trampoline!
the formation of matter resulted solely so that sixty-seven hours of detention could be issued to retain and break the spirit of contradictory efforts!
I heard such fond words about the so-called real world!
a reality measured in it's invisibility!
measured in the lock and chain of binding expressionless touch!
Freedom!
I embrace you as a brother
your words and games fit me so snugly!
drag me into false kingdoms!
I am willing!
your vapor trails, I find intoxicating
your summers, endless
I renounce all desire to move anywhere but up and into your ever-seeing heat gaze!
whose red stare coats the sky and ground
your primitive, machine gun logic
I am pierced by your omnipotence!
you claimed my brothers, now claim me!
Jan 26, 2011
Jan 26, 2011 at 11:23 AM UTC
Did you happen to notice
That last year Santa's sleigh
Was missing an important
Figure, by the way?
Let's see: Comet and *****
Along with Cupid and Prancer
Were there, and so were Donner,
Dasher, Blitzen, and Dancer.
Which reindeer was missing?
Rudolph? Ah, you guessed it.
The news was out there, but
The media had suppressed it.
(Because of frequent fog,
Santa was being sensible
In counting on dear Rudolph,
Who had become indispensable.)
It all started like this:
On the morning of Christmas Eve,
Rudolph was tired from having
Been on the qui vive
For sneaky present robbers
All the previous night.
By noon, poor ol' Rudolph
Looked a sorry sight.
To perk himself up a bit--
The "where" is still unclear--
He dipped into a little
Too much Christmas "cheer."
Now I don't know about you,
But Rudolph's nose would flicker
Whenever he drank wine
Or any other liquor.
When the team of reindeer
Lined up, Santa could tell
That sleigh-guiding Rudolph
Wasn't doing so well.
Needless to say, Santa
Really got a whiff
When he approached his friend
And took a little sniff.
"I can tell, dear Rudolph,
That you've been making merry.
Did you turn your eggnog
Into a Tom and Jerry?"
"I think--hiccup!--a little,"
Said Rudolph with a blush.
"Go to bed," said Santa.
"We are in a rush."
That night Santa was forced--
Although he felt remorseful--
To use toys with lights
To guide him. How resourceful!
So last year if the batteries
To your toys were run down,
Causing disappointment
And many a tear and frown,
Don't feel so sad.
They went to a good cause:
They helped to distribute
Gifts from Santa Claus.
Regarding this year, I
Don't want to keep you guessin':
Rudolph's back in service.
I think he learned his lesson.
But some say Santa's considering--
Despite objections and moans--
Future gift deliveries
With the use of Amazon's drones.
- by Bob B
Nov 25, 2016
Nov 25, 2016 at 1:26 PM UTC
we've been here before, you and i.
it was raining outside.
i cried for a while and had cake for dinner.
it was the night i didn't drown.
the moments fall together in flipbook photos:
swollen knuckles,
pills in hand,
never enough blood.
i would hold a pocket knife just tight enough.
i would study it,
imagine the sharp kiss of metal against my skin.
and then i would put it away and cry myself to sleep.
we became wonderful dance partners, you and i.
we could rise and fall with the music;
i would lift myself up and wait for you to tear me back down.
i learned to adapt.
swell to crescendo, fancy yourself untouchable,
then _fall_
_fall_
_fall._
the steps became familiar.
i knew them by heart,
falling into step like it had become tradition.
find the space to release it all,
and watch as it slowly builds back up.
but they changed the rhythm on us.
for all the adapting we can do – you and i –
can we truly adapt to this?
it makes you wonder how far there is to fall,
and if we ever really fell before now.
perhaps some day we'll rise.
maybe this is just a hiccup, a misstep;
you lowered me into a dip and i am patiently waiting for the fall to end.
i can't wait to never hear this song again.
Dec 31, 2021
Dec 31, 2021 at 5:03 AM UTC