"jeepers" poems
The brass trumpet sounds
In the dark, where weeps aloud
And hearts are made of silver
To match her necklace that slithers
As a snake which tangos
When their bracelets dangle
No one seems much surprised
For her dance, the cobra rise
To greet the man on the street
As he is poisoned head to feet
Shake the jeepers, I'm telling you
If not, may your spirit be cool
She is definitely a piece of work
And drunken whispers offer jerks
But, they do not have a clue
This woman moves to voodoo
Wiggle... Jiggle.. Lady Dancer
You eat them like a malice cancer
Wiggle... Jiggle... Lady Dancer
Tomorrow, you will have to answer.
Mar 8, 2011
Mar 8, 2011 at 9:24 AM UTC
so
here we Are:
Arnold......Shortman,
Shorty......Meeks,
Mr......Meeseeks,
Ezekiel......Whitmore.
Morphine,,,,,,Morpheus,
Neo......Geo,
OG......Sour,
Sour......Diesel.
DeeDee's......Brother,
Cousin......Vinny,
Vinny's......Lover,
Brothers......Grimm.
Grim......adVentures,
Billy......Madison,
Hansel,,,,,,Gretel,
Chelsea......Grin.
Grimace,,,,,,Misery,
Mister......eBonic,
Bonny,,,,,,Clyde,
Kyle,,,,,,Kenny.
Kenny......Powers,
Powder Puff Girls,
"Girls Girls Girls",
Girls Gone Wild.
Wilee......Coyote,
Coyote......Ugly,
Ugly......Betty,
Betty......Crocker.
Doctor......Parnassus,
Doctor......Krieger,
Doctor......Horrible,
Doctor......Evil.
Evil......Knievel,
Felix......the Cat,
Captain Jack Sparrow:
"Captain......my Captain".
Tinman,,,,,,Scarecrow,
"Rowrow Rowyer Boat",
Bo......Burnham,
Earnest,,,,,,Vern.
Verdict,,,,,,Votive,
deVotion,,,,,,Vengeance,
aVenging......Evey,
V,,,,,,Vendetta.
Denace......the Menace,
Crystal......Globes,
Snow,,,,,,Aesthetics:
Skeletal......Shedding.
Head,,,,,,Tail,
Sally,,,,,,Jack,
Jack......Rabbits,
Magic......Hatters.
Shattered......Glass,
Glasgow......Smile,
Guile,,,,,,Vega,
Akuma,,,,,,Ryu.
You,,,,,,Me,
Beneath......the Bleacher:
Jeepers,,,,,,Creepers,
Reapers......of Seeds.
Seeds......of Chucky,
Chuckie......Finster,
Principal......Muriel,
Yuri......Gagarin.
© Copyrighted Jesse James Adams
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 12:44 PM UTC
Writhing, the screeching leviathan demands
And I cave to save the aching from tricky time slopes
Pained craving
Wavering but
Hit and
It’s all loosey goosey goodness
Sensing silent magma pulse, whoosh the tummy tingles
Droopy ears gape-face giggle no more nowadays
A stern turn in old age the silly phase of
Too bright, neon common numb tongue rambles
Secedes into introspective
Crowded walks, broken talks strung into threats clustered and
Flung like monkey **** at many-stabbed ego, Brutus?
Strangers will eat you
The professor thinks I’m funny because
I know the answers in class
The other day Dingus
And Whoseewhatsee tried to alley mug and hurt and end
And money!
No, rocked nose ran dude! Fine
Trying not to fear the outdoors, though
The arthropods and phantoms tell me ***** jokes
And not to eat my candy
Books melt into soupy mercurial elixir
I slurp them and belch
Educating myself in a barn ******* knowledge
On loud faces; empty meat
Where you can hear the jingly metal
Thing when you shake it, it’s dead no flower
They don’t always like me
But
I’ve got the jeepers creepers behind my peepers
And a million lightyears to burn
Truth is worth dying
Four **** sow
Izzeny thing these daze
Maybe it was a bust from the start but there’s
Always art
Quieting the plague that revealed
Not so good after all
Tiny thorns and all-consuming
Waves of red-get-out wrenching, gutted like a fish
Overcome, that never went away or found
A place to sit
Memories arthritic grind a grim gray whetting stone
Reduce with juice-cloud, grape teeth cough will never find a home
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 4:51 PM UTC
A long trailer
In a sombre forest
Two young boys creep
Through a long corridor
One blond and fair
The other is sometimes mistaken
For an immigrant from India
The floor is sticky and smells
From spilt pink lemondae
Scooby Doo cries out from the TV
"Jeepers Creepers it's the Creeper!"
The two boys watch wide eyed
Scooby's antics and Shaggy's
Immense appetite
They giggle and scream
In delight
As a ghostly axe misses Scooby
By a hair
The movie is over and it's time to go
It's dark out, scarily dark
They laugh nervously
But jump into the large truck
Both clad in the trappings
Of young explorers:
***** sweat pants
T shirts with wolves
Hair bleached by the sun
Skin dark and freckled
Finger nails ***** from building forts
And muddy shoes from testing
If river banks are as solid as they look.
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 8:49 PM UTC
strangely, I think that this
ought be, must be, responsibly,
be the best poem I’ve ever writ,
(though unlikely, as the best will always be the next)
that mine own eyes commissioned,
better be,
just got to be,
this holy-moly notion jeepers weepers,
conceptual rocks me deepest,
an awesome responsibility
to find away of saying
that this beyond conceptual,
coring, especially special sample
If there was to be a but one,
a singularity, a distinguishing feature
of what the human definition
innate contains,
how choice that we animals,
elevate ourselves to being human beings,
the only ones capable of wonderfully weeping
the implications are an astounding!
what a glorious burden,
what a wonderful decision,
the designer slipped in this microscopic checkmark,
somewhere in our cellular DNA perma-dynasty,
runs a common thread, these saltwater fears,
a residual global amniotic fluid hint,
from where we humans out-of-crawled
that empathy,
the signal of an elongated journey of eons,
the marker that says
show the caring,
a trait-ed statement,
us, unique
so often do I weep,
sometimes visible - in my poems listed, oft indicated -
so you could know its sharing was an absolution
that I granted myself,
that that particular poem was a costly one,
womb bloomed, tongue taken, eye written
sometimes invisible - even more, do they,
(nobody knows, nobody sees)
just well up, eye cornered kept, secreted,
only skin-staining the underneath-my-eyes
one more shade darker,
a reminder to all, to mirrored me,
that to forgive myself doesn’t
forgive forgetting
is this then my best?
sufficient to breech your
reserves of pseudo-cool,
that correct boundary pretense that keeps us as
mismatched separates?
you be the judge, you be the jury,
you be the prosecutor and the defender,
for it is all of us
standing in the dock,
on trial,
for in our lifetime
guilty of the inhuman crime,
of not crying enough
Jun 27, 2019
Jun 27, 2019 at 7:15 PM UTC
Prudence tumbled out of bed, straight into a dream.
The grass, so tall it was brushing her ears.
Verdant dancing through the scene.
Imagine it.
Her hay fever troubled her, 'twas mighty obscene.
A king sized snake went slithering by.
She saw him.
Frightened stiff.
Was petrified.
She closed her eyes.
Dive bombed by a bumblebee.
Panic set in before her peepers.
Just on a pollen hunt.
Jeepers' creepers.
Sat down between the massive blades.
Heads in hands.
Really scared.
Panic burned.
Snatched her breath.
Tears of panic gushed down her cheeks.
Heard a noise.
A mighty roar.
Her daughter beating on the door.
"Mummy mummy,
you alright?"
Heard you crying overnight.
Door clicked open,
Still her nose dripped.
And her eyes, still itched like hell.
(C) Livvi
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 8:04 AM UTC
Is there a reason
is there an aisle, for the pile, for just a while
a box, that holds rocks, and room for my socks
a clamp, to put on my cramp, hold my stamp
a day, when I can say, it's gone my way
an eye, made for a fly, without a sty
a flag, or a paper bag, to cover the drag queen
a goat, that you know will float, without a boat
a house, for my mouse, a lacy blouse
an imagination, for a nation, needing salvation
a jeepers, without a creepers, and no peepers
a kite, that flies alnight, until it's right
a lesson, learned from confesson, without guessin
a mole, in every hole, who likes rock and roll
a nerd, who looks like a bird, that's what I heard
an oil, our waters will boil, you've ruined the soil
a potion, or a lotion, that enhances the motion
a queen, whos really keen, on old James Dean
a reason, for commiting treason, in any season
a space, in this place, to put my face
a time, to do my rhyme, is it a crime
an Ull, unknown to Krull, whose blade is dull
a vacuum, in every room, or just a broom
a way, to ever say, you need not pray
a Xe, to strong for me, a trace I see
a yak, the color black, behind my back
a zama, in Alabama, Phi Slamma Jamma
Gomer LePoet...
Jun 29, 2010
Jun 29, 2010 at 4:07 AM UTC
Jeepers Creepers
heading your way
I may not drive
but i'll hunt your soul anyway
a delicious treat
worth the run
can't wait for the rush
it's going to be so fun
darlin you're not prepared
for what I'm going to do
It will be worth not making it out
Alive at least
cuz I know you'll be missing something
and it's going to be mine
so what will you give up
what will you trade for me
because honey I'm going to take it all
last thing you'll remember is the fall
surrounded by feeling
surrounded by something
why don't you come find out
cuz I'm going to leave you guessing
the suspense almost palatable
you will know what you truly desire
but who knows if I'll give it
but I will take something
whether you like it or not
the question is
are you brave enough
to face the unknown
Sep 2, 2023
Sep 2, 2023 at 1:30 AM UTC
Terry Maguire was fond of a fire.
He was a kilnman in days of yore.
But not he's changed to drawing cream
To Tugmans of Teemore.
When Terry gets up in the morn'
he eats his crumbs.
He tackles the mare,
There's no time to spare
Till he reaches Doonans and Gunns
And when he reaches Tugmans
He's in an awful plight.
He says "Be jeepers the horse is mad,
I'll not get home tonight."
There were ***** carts and horses carts
And carts from all around
But none to compare with Terry Maguire
The pride of sweet Milltown
(author Gerry/Shem Gunn)
May 15, 2017
May 15, 2017 at 1:10 PM UTC
Close to "around the bend"
Proud to call a wall a friend
Posting letters others wouldn't send
Caring too much about the triple word score.
The trend or what's trending
What the be jeepers are you befriending
Could it be any more condescending
I guess peacocks are misunderstood
Remember when you had a list
You know, when you were not ******
When we were all Swedish "tyst"
Drums, glitter, blood and filo fax
How did it come to this?
Writing words on a padded wall
With ****
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 5:55 PM UTC
Have you felt the tug on your nerves
Felt the constant ringing in your ears
Your hands jerking like a jelly bowl
And your forehead twisted like a wet rope
The feeling is immense
Its so deep its raw and intense
Those nagging tounges and blabbering lips
Can make you proclaim the right to ****
You twitch to maim and destory
That lingering itch to crack open a skull and enjoy
The cribber party is one of a kind
They are a mouthful and one ******** mind
Cute little dolls can be pin poked
But can the trolls ever be roped?
Hung by a nooze so tight
Given a chance you might even enjoy the sight.
Your friends out of devil's pocket may ignore you
The blueticks on your messages may avoid you
The boss will pick on you like a cheese *******
And the world will conspire and deride and jack you up.
Dont lose calm
Coz sanity once gone will give you a ****
Your tallest of the four fingers
May be your motto for forever
You might pull of a crazy mind coup
On those pestering sons of cockroach
In the end
Its your nerves of steel that soldier on
Like an overloaded bridge under strain they hold on
Like an airship in turbulence you will ride it through
Some days are gloomy, some mornings can be sweet
Dont you let go, march on...
For there's a right to obey and a right to ****
May 7, 2018
May 7, 2018 at 9:53 AM UTC
***counting sheep, to get to sleep,
racing the sunrise
Mr. Sandman, if you can,
sprinkle sand into my eyes
jeepers creepers, open peepers,
wide as deep blue skies
toss and turn, comfort concern,
no dreams or no lies
R.E.M. I wonder when,
even in dark's disguise
insomniac, heart attack,
sleeping would be wise
a wink, a nod, a sigh, a yawn,
still can't close my eyes***
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 9:59 AM UTC
STARTING OUT
Time is of the essence.
Egg timer sand broke free.
Feeling muddled up.
A bloodshot mix of me.
Like a storm cloud in bright sunshine.
A sandstorm in a hurricane.
A gift tag on the side.
It's labelled lots of love to me.
Missing the moments with everyone once there.
Feeling so broken.
Laid totally bare.
Fresh beginnings and frosty rose hips.
Mondays coming,bring it on .
A serenade of trumpets.
With flares and fireworks.
Accompanied by a xylophone.
Noisily.
Justly celebrating jitters.
Jeepers creepers.
My bricks aren't made of clay.
They're actually filled with dynamite.
Hold tight.
Tomorrow morning's coming.
Let's go.
Break on through,
I introduce the ride of my life.
(C) Livvi
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 5:10 AM UTC
<> <>
*counting sheep, to get to sleep, racing the sunrise
Mr. Sandman, if you can, sprinkle sand into my eyes
jeepers creepers, open peepers, wide as deep blue skies
toss and turn, comfort concern, no dreams or no lies
R.E.M. I wonder when, even in dark's disguise
insomniac, heart attack, sleeping would be wise
a wink, a nod, a sigh, a yawn, still can't close my eyes*
<> <>
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 12:38 PM UTC
right now it can goo any direction thts the latest i can tell
Jan 2, 2017
Jan 2, 2017 at 12:00 AM UTC
They say it takes a village, right?
“Yeah, a village for sure.”
When all I see is siege
And a city at war
I got a rich soul
But I’m extremely poor
My best friend got shot
I couldn't even mourn
Had to be a man
Had to join the band
Gangland
Rain Man
While these colonizers are playing hangman
With the Fam
Creating a league of their own called the J.J.E
Judge, Jury, and Executioner
Quicksand, I'm in a jam
Sticky ****
Big whips, crack rock, hollow tips
All I see
An introspective perception through these wide brown eyes
Hypnosis
Under a spell
It's a scary movie out here
Like Jeepers Creepers
I got the Bible with the Glock on my side
So, I won’t see the reaper
Seeing beakers on the stove
Around four years old
Product
But no environment
Living in this ghetto jungle
Everyday trying to get the first down and not fumble
Loose yards, lose life!
That's just the story of the Black plight
Black life
Not even looking to make it past eighteen
When all the odds are against me
How could another being that looks just like me
Really hate me, like they hate me!
Relate me
Brothers right?
Not that simple
When all they see is ******* colors!
Not even the mothers or the fathers
That's what the streets taught us
Play for keeps
Don’t speak
Just keep it on you, like you play for the heat
Like a feline, I split the beeline
Tale of Two Cities
Got to stay ten toes down
Always on my feet
Even though I know the Lord is with me
Mommy and Daddy just got popped
For disputing with cops
Body drops
So mad
So red
That now, I'm shooting at the ops
Body drops
**** this and **** that
That's all I hear
**** this and Sip that
That's all I hear
Pop this, Smoke this
Help!
Get your mind clear
So high, mind gone
Can fly to Navy pier
Red and blue lights in my rear
If it’s my time, then time’s up
No need to fear
Heart dark as coal
Nerves cold as ice
Hate in the eyes
Shots fired
The end is near
No need to cry
Dry your eye
Not even one tear
This is the life of a Black adolescent
I wish I had a different lesson
To see,
I wish I had a different vision
To grow,
I wish I could change the mission
I listen,
I wish I could hear the freedom coming for my life
But this is just the life of a Young, Black, Adolescent
I can stop running…
They say it takes a village, right?
“Yeah, a Village, right?”
Aug 2, 2025
Aug 2, 2025 at 12:40 PM UTC
Aghast at explosive industrialization/
urbanization once sacred wild woodland
whittled away overlain bumper crops
comprising trappings green lighted
supposedly signaling progress unwittingly
overrides avast enclave (teeming with
diverse flora and fauna passively cleared,
dominated, expropriated by dictate of
commercialization, exploitation, fabrication
fueling amalgamation, fabrication, lubrication
oiling cogs and wheels sustaining, murdering
guaranteeing production trumpeted at
expense native flora and fauna acquisition,
cooptation, extermination, gratification
decreed ********** **** sapiens usurped
law of land i.e. eminent domain foisted
upon unsullied "new world" defining
European age of exploration, whereby
pristine undulating immense acres
indiscriminately partitioned, (despite
indigenous peoples unrecognized precedence
to remain holistic caretakers of Mother
Earth tendered, predicated, linkedin with
generations worth of sacredness, which
spiritual reverence meant naught to
unwelcome trespassers solely hell bent
to force acquiescence, compliance,
obeisance,... to warlords, whose cruel,
diabolical gall lee jeepers libidinal
incursions sought extinction toward
defenceless native inhabitants subject
to machinations spelling extermination,
yet their restless spirits infiltrate occupants
of once happy hunting grounds devoid
without a trace, when this bucolic tract
devoid of present schlocky vinyl zoned
abodes, whereby fast disappearing vestige
alluding to pastoral vista spurs overactive
imagination regarding yours truly, who
chiefly hankers he got born during
sparse population versus pell mell hustle.
Sep 15, 2019
Sep 15, 2019 at 9:35 PM UTC