"homophones" poems
He thwack no metronome to kick oneself
Thwack his **** sucker
With his monolithic flaccid trunk rubber
Me and my Dalek doped
And my excrement unsweetened
Copulate in the open without my jockstrap
You shat encrusted to what you deflowered
So at arm’s length ****** from all that we excreted in the wind’s eye
And I bounce a bedevilled backwash
My incredibles are shafted
I’ll **** **** to Arab
We only jabbered hasta la vista amongst homophones
I croaked a hundredweight arsonists
You **** posterior to her
And I **** **** to…
I **** **** to myself
I ****** you powerfully
The body beautiful’s not enough to go round
You enjoy spanking and I wallow in *********
And ***** is like a tobacco teabag
And I’m a bijou **** coming the corsets in custody
We only jabbered hasta la vista amongst homophones
I croaked a hundredweight arsonists
You **** posterior to her
And I **** **** to…
Arab, Arab, Arab, Arab, Arab, Arab, Arab
I **** **** to…
I **** **** to…
We only jabbered hasta la vista amongst homophones
I croaked a hundredweight arsonists
You **** **** to her
And I **** **** to Arab
Mar 26, 2010
Mar 26, 2010 at 4:34 PM UTC
I can't seem to write
anything these days.
There's just no poetry
in my misery.
I can't seem to right
anything these days.
There's just no cogency
in my apologies.
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 1:34 AM UTC
English with 26 letters, is generally thought to be the simplest language on earth. A language built up on 26 letters is amazing.
But within just handful of letters, how many words can be misspelled..
My childish attempt to rhyme and write...
ei or ie, we are confused when we write,
it's then the words jump to end their lives.
Homonyms, homophones, homographs
It's fun to know the very facts.
Bear tried to **** Jack with its bare hands,
Jack had to bear the brunt of the bear.
Speed is what we thrive to do
If we forget to Brake, will break a head or two.
100 cents makes a dollar
Jack sent his wife to buy a stroller
She smelled the scent of a broiler
And forget all about the stroller.
The people who lives in Desert
do they have dates as their Dessert?
The dinner was perfect
The wine complemented the feast
The hosts were perfect
And were complimented for their treat.
The King who reigned Prussia
Rode high holding his horse's reins,
But his horse started to panic
As it started to Rain.
Drew looked at his new site
The building looked a perfect sight
When asked for the legal owner
He cited the document which held his right.
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 2:38 PM UTC
Penetrate me tight-fitting and penetrate me pinned down
The lycanthropic creature you ******
This is la vie en Venus’ flytrap
When you poke me, ****** moans
And though I squeeze my vaginas
I taste la vie en Venus’ flytrap
When you ***** me abutting your *****
I’m inside a hobnobbing alien
A metagalaxy where Venus’ flytraps win a beauty contest
And when you ********* cyclopses moo from upstairs
Heterosexual homophones seem to pervert ***** Adams Glorias
Splash out your cream and gumption to me
And ***** lust loosely wash
La vie en Venus’ flytrap
Mar 31, 2010
Mar 31, 2010 at 4:06 PM UTC
We are absurd
You and I
Fragments
We have created a fermentative reality,
Where words are symbols of relation
That you and I falsify
And Bingo was his name-o!
Ah!
Oh holy onomatopoeic jargon
What do you mean?
And how shall we bargain?
And mora is but a half step to a whole
Eek gad!
January Febuary March and April
May I introduce you to June and July
August, Sept Oct Nov Dec
Randomly systemized organs organized
Abstract or… dissonant?
But who is in charge?
12345
12345678
12345
12345678
12344
12344556
12344
12344556
“Why so serious?” said The Riddler
Mellow dramatic
Melodrama
Melancholy
Pantomimes!
Pantomimes EVERYWHERE!
They are able to speak
But alone I mime, “Do you have the time?”
Together we fall!
United I stand.
Backwards
Upside down
Inside out
And grammar
What’s in a name?
Please don’t be lame
Sarcastic and the glamour
Synonymous nonsense
Homophones and nyms
Where are the polysemes?
In the antonyms
In the antonyms!
Repitition
Exclamation
Annunciation
tions…
verbage verbage verbage
syllables and such
meaningless meaning
defining definitions with such
True or False?
Hide and Seek
Ring around the rosy
We all fall down…
We all fall down.
Black hat, white shoes, and I’m red all over.
Salt
Sour
And bitter
And dill
And
And
And
And
And
And
Ampersand
Institutionalized poetry
But I am for rhythmic prose!
No, not you
Listen to the hue
that the colors protrude
red green blue
red green blue
Black is not a color
Chrome is my favorite
I will not believe otherwise
You are an alien.
I have divided by zero
Musical dissonance
*(asterisk)
A beautiful disaster
A shadow without its owner
Wild natured wilderness
And naturally a wildcard.
**** **** **** **** ****
Etcetera.
Sep 15, 2012
Sep 15, 2012 at 7:08 AM UTC
We are absurd
You and I
Fragments
We have created a figmentative reality,
where words are symbols of relation
that you and I falsify
And Bingo was his name-o!
Ah!
Oh holy onomatopoeic jargon
What do you mean?
and how shall we bargain?
And mora is but a half step to a whole
Eek gad!
January Febuary March and April
May I introduce you to June and July
August 28th
Sept Oct Nov Dec
Randomly systemized organs organized
Abstract or… dissonant?
But who is in charge?
12345
12345678
12345
12345678
12344
12344556
12344
12344556
“Why so serious?” said The Riddler
Mellow dramatic
Melodrama
Melancholy
Pantomimes!
Pantomimes EVERYWHERE!
They are able to speak
But alone I mime, “Do you have the time?”
Together we fall!
United I stand.
Backwards
Upside down
Inside out
And grammar
What’s in a name?
Please don’t be lame
Sarcastic and the glamour
Synonymous nonsense
Homophones and nyms
Where are the polysemes?
In the antonyms
In the antonyms!
Repetition
Exclamation
Annunciation
tions…
verbage verbage verbage
syllables and such
meaningless meaning
defining definitions with such
True or False?
Hide and Seek
Ring around the rosy
We all fall down…
We all fall down.
Salt
Sour
And bitter
And dill
And
And
And
And
And
And
Ampersand
Institutionalized poetry
But I am for rhythmic prose!
No, not you
Listen to the hue
that the colors protrude
red green blue
red green blue
Black is not a color
Chrome is my favorite
I will not believe otherwise
You are an alien.
I have divided by zero
Musical dissonance
Asterisk*
A beautiful disaster
A shadow without its owner
Wild natured wilderness
And naturally a wildcard.
**** **** **** **** ****
Etcetera.
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 12:26 AM UTC
Think of how much world is wasted on
bad eyes - by blindness, or ones that merely do not want to see.
The next thing you know you cannot miss a sunrise
and french kiss both moon and stars
goodnight, your head will hug its fallen hair on the pillowcase,
strands telling stories of when you were not conscious. I
realize you will visit jewelry stores and
watch how gemstones are faceted. You will imagine the galaxy
within an amethyst, publish novels on their bouquets
of cigarettes, worry about how pretty things can **** themselves too.
Everything is a story: you ask to see my cellulite,
you tell me how it got there, how my skin stretched to make
room for every place we shall go
including statelines that do something similar. We stretch apart
and still we are okay. We think about how the same
dawn reaches us, I can almost see your pupils dilate when the sky
dances - I watch but you hope to learn the ballet.
Someone is taking a photograph right now that they can look
at later, ours never came out the way I wanted them to
or perhaps the memories just go by another name.
I learned about homophones when I hurt you
by trying to sound beautiful. It is so much easier when we can see
morning peeling open our feelings, easier when you're here.
Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 9:08 PM UTC
I like making
plans I know I won't make,
I just like they're there.
It's sort of like how we prepare
in our cars with airbags.
Sometimes we thank God
they're there.
I like waiting at
bottoms of skyscrapers to catch
cripples' stares on stairs.
It's living up to a dare
trying to walk with one leg, one
crutch going up, look at their
Stares on stairs.
It wasn't a hippy
in tie dye that gave me
that squabbled piece of peace.
It was a horrid beast
who claimed I was the first
to not shoot, he gave me his last
Piece of peace.
I didn't like the tone
of his voice when he said
you can't bare the bear
Even outside the lair
you'll shave his fur and run your
hands in your hair, you
can't bare the bear.
I have years of your
wind pattern because my
vane detects vain in your veins.
Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 12:06 AM UTC
Ah, would I were a German!
I'd trouble my translator
With nouns the size of Hamburg
And leave the verb till later.
And if I were a Welshman
My work would thwart translation
With ninety novel plurals
In strict alliteration.
And would I were Chinese!
I'd throw them off their course
With twelve unusual symbols
All homophones of "horse".
But as it is, I'm English:
And I'm the one in hell
By writing in a language
Impossible to spell.
Sep 3, 2010
Sep 3, 2010 at 8:27 AM UTC
"Two bee oar knot two bee..."
Seams knot too bee well honed
Wen awl ewe knead four align too fail
Is won to many homophones
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 3:35 PM UTC
In many short years
we’ll know we were sweet and naive.
We’ll think about the things we thought,
our understated predictions
our dinner table conversations.
There were floaters
in our oracle’s eyes.
It will not be the now
that we know.
As what happens to us
disappears
like the sound of an engine
in the fog,
moving away.
In many short years
Auschwitz has a café.
After the tour
all the waitresses
come from the kitchen
uniformed
to sing to you
on your birthday.
In many short years
they’ll build on Chernobyl
and Fukushima will be an oasis.
There’ll be fields of bodies
fertilising strawberries
for other countries.
-
We’ve got no memory.
Horrors aren’t like happiness
they lose their impact
with every sharing
and every listen.
Will you be there?
In the next big thing.
Think of that.
How much faster everything’s destroyed
than it’s made.
Think of what work your life took
Wrong gods appear again.
As always a side will be picked for you.
As always the goals are your own.
And the answers are more questions,
homophones,
the same lessons
and still they’ll bomb playgrounds
built on bomb sites.
-
Then the next big thing.
Your entropy,
that starts and ends in fire.
The wolf
from another wood and paper town.
The flames on your monuments
and shopfronts
caught on divine wind
and a scent for sin.
Most now know
they’ve never been scared before.
Things you never thought could alight
prove you wrong.
The air stings and follows
and the clouds finally become too much for the sun.
Your heartbeat’s afterlife
is someone else’s tutting.
Unread letters,
guitars and bars with history,
family traditions
and the weight of her hand,
thumb hooked to the belt loop
of your jeans
are now one weather formation.
And under all
is flat and yellow
like an African morning.
Is it angels or great bats
which have given you
your turn?
Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 10:03 PM UTC
She smiles when he whispers "girl you are my Peace.
She never thinks to question it
because it make her feel accomplished.
She brags about this man like a mother
doting over her newborn baby.
Little did she know, she was just his Piece of ***
May 28, 2019
May 28, 2019 at 3:16 AM UTC
And so, it seems like an additional day
you’re back counting on misfortunes,
As when they named you spoiled,
that always made you feel so less important,
A foreigner everywhere in gatherings;
as your spoken words, feel imported,
You’ve felt like fallen wine, as all your
maturity blemished the floors—
A child grounded, by your countless flaws.
Dreadfully ascending out of your many
troubles, but you slip up on life’s stairs,
As all of those hypothetical elevating eyes;
sometimes bring you down, with people’s
awkward stares.
You’ve done your best, while
pretending like you never tire,
But sometimes you lose the grip to
that drive, like a worn-down tyre,
Still, you have to wear a heroic smile
as a part of your attire;
—and between having a part of will to
do any well, the world spins the notion
of it not being so, like a tyre.
You’re covering up a wave of hidden
emotions, in a couple ***** durags,
Articulating them, always feels too late,
—a poor clothing of words; in these due rags.
In truth, you feel like words
that sound the same, but with
two different meanings,
Your life is just this relentless,
finding out one remarkable meaning,
As your purpose is what you’ll look out
yourself..._no I mean, In._
Apr 20, 2024
Apr 20, 2024 at 3:14 AM UTC
Can people change? That's one of the hardest question I've stumbled upon.
I've seen so many people change throughout my life.
My parents, my family, my friends.
Everybody's changing.
But when i look into a mirror, i don't just see glass that reflects light.
I see such an unchanged math problem that we might known as constant.
I see, myself.
Being constant is not the same as being consistent.
It's not a wordplay that everyone could mix it up.
Those two not even homophones.
Being consistent is sometime a thing that we could be proud of.
And yet being constant is
an illness that I haven't find the cure of.
I'm not saying that it's uncurable.
What I'm saying is
I'm sick of it.
I'm sick of being an unchanged variable that doesn't know how to change.
I'm sick of being a constant that is easily scratch out in a derivative.
Who are scared of the slightest change that eliminates.
I'm sick of being a constant that is negligible during a definite integration.
Who are disposable when the such circumstances are known.
All I'm saying is,
I'm sick of being a constant.
And for now,
I want things to change.
Nov 10, 2024
Nov 10, 2024 at 5:55 AM UTC
I've lost you in the ambiguity of my words
The puns and metaphors
Tring to figure out my speech
The parts of you that were lost in translation
How can I piece together
A sentence that starts with you
And ends with us?
The words elude me like a deer a lion
I am at sixes and sevens..
Trying to define homophones
Twice this weak.
Logic walked away from me
On the eve of my flight
A flown fool filled with fuel of
Rage
Hate maybe.
Burning all that personified
The meaning of you
While
The truth of the irony is that,
You are all I write about.
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 10:16 AM UTC
The journey is only a small stake
Of your time, on the road you’ll go,
I’ll argue the significance of mistakes,
Is what’ll help you grow.
Whether you travel to the left or right,
Or use homophones to achieve your poetic wit.
Neither matters more than the holistic merit
Of failing.
Of making mistakes.
Because without it,
You’d just be walking while looking.
Taking in scenery you could absorb at home,
Some two page spread in a picture laden book,
Anyone can walk and roam.
It doesn’t matter where you go.
It doesn’t matter which mountain you ascend,
But it matters if you succeed.
Because if you don’t,
You’ll have failed,
And learned a bit in the end.
Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 8:33 AM UTC
I have a rime.
Under my skin.
I have a rhyme
I feel it in
side my follicles.
I feel the icicles.
Jan 25, 2017
Jan 25, 2017 at 5:04 PM UTC
( Mathematics was easy ) x2
When we used to spell it maths
Till it was limited to addition and subtraction
Instead of calculus and integration
when there’s algebra and equation
Yes it was easy
When ‘’ ! ‘’ was just exclamation mark
‘e’ was just an alphabetic art
Till sin, cos and tan were
Homophones of sign , cosh , ten
Confusions didn’t arise at that age
When
Gauss , Pythagoras and Simpson photo;
pasted on General knowledge (book)
It arised when their creation were hard to acknowledge
It was easy
When circle was just a ring
No formula and any mugging
When ‘c’ was nither arbitrary nor proportionality
CONSTANT
When relation was just connection
Function was just operation
No hypothesis and theorems
Mathematics was easy !
May 9, 2020
May 9, 2020 at 9:36 AM UTC
Funny how small the world is when it's not
Someone for each and everyone it seems
Until I reached my name, so I thought
The trans girl I attend school with exists only in my dreams
Surrounded by lovely people as well as some not so lovely
Various identities and orientations crossin' over
Two years nearly like this, and someone like me I've yet to see
Chance encounters in this full, desolate land are four-leaf clovers
Hard not to lament loneliness even when friends are there
Easy to force a smile and laugh as well as tell white lies
Sometimes make me feel a skosh needy, but I don't care
I stay wishin' for someone to gravitate towards to field my cries
Pipe down and keep dreamin', kid
Sit right back down and accept your fate
Too awkward, bad at first impressions, of that you won't get rid
You won't meet no girl like you, ain't that great?
If I were to meet my match, I'd be elated
The yin to my yang, the bullet to my gun
Give the F-word, hummingbird to sadness; like a balloon, I'd inflate
The good kind of mess; give dysfunction its 'fun'
I'd treat you like the lady you are
We'd sound similar when complimentin' ourselves, we homophones
Beat your face up and do the same to the ignorant, no matter how far
We'd have ourselves a gay ol' time, unlike a buncha homophobes
But above all else, I'd want to be there for you
Validate you and offer support whenever you deem it necessary
I want to be the best friend I can through and through
Do whatever it takes, doesn't matter how arbitrary
Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 2:27 AM UTC