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"jokey" poems
I can see Cecily's ****** bars. Sammy can see them as well. After he speaks I keep catching him peek. She knows that he sees, I can tell. Bailey has smoked too much **** again. He's dribbling over my shoes. He acted all jokey And tried out smoke me. It went without saying he'd lose. Tom's on the floor by the table. We don't know if he's alive, Hugging Joe's feet, Who is slumped on the seat. I don't think they're due to survive. Chris had a couple of pills. Ethan a tab or a few. Toria's tweaking, Max is just peaking, Matt's throwing up in the loo. I'm on the sofa while writing, Louie beside me in tears. We may have our issues With drugs and their misuse, But **** it, it gives me ideas.
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Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 9:03 AM UTC
Friday Nights
Is there someone out there that can make the insecure, secure? The lost become found? The weak become strong? The introvert extrovert and all things in-between? The ugly more beautiful? The headedness and nightmares become more of a joke? The sounds in the background become solid and free Chuck out the garbage The ties that bind thee Those that put you in trouble of the deepest kind The ugliest of mothers hellbent on revenge Taking out pennies from someone else's den Is there someone decent and cool To help get along in the life of a fool? I am the pest the irregular verb Adjectives, hyphens the comma's full stop and nerds All comprehensive found sometimes expensive So you'll never know what kind of gift wraps inside Quaky, Jackie, Stumble bunny and fall Am running amok for the sake of it all Sinderella what a fella He went to the garden zoo Played hokey cokey Oh what a jokey He even drank the soup Happy Halloween you creeps! © Bernard M Coldwell all rights reserved
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Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 5:44 AM UTC
Happy Halloween
I don't suit hats and I'm not their cup of tea. My head is just the wrong shape and it's far too small you see. So the hats that I have quite simply have to be of the jokey, laughing, giggling, silliest variety. I've a pink hat with bobbles, and a purple fluffy beast, an Arsenal grey with dangling braids, and a multicoloured feast of points and tassles, braids and swirls. I guess I'm not like other girls. But none of the boys will walk along with me. Still, I don't mind. I love daft hats, and my daft hats love me.
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Oct 2, 2010
Oct 2, 2010 at 12:28 PM UTC
Happy Hats Make Perfect Friends.
I propose that we... Snuggle up under our duvets, Call in sick to wherever, whoever, Shut the bedroom door, and write way too much, all day long. Post it all, no cheating, no deleting, Let's do it! I'm not joking. Into bed with us all, This is the right day For a write day.
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Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 5:05 PM UTC
Half jokey dare
. ***there once was a man who was a peeper who spied on girls while they were asleeper to Tom it was a jokey 'til he got thrown in the pokey now Tom is a registered *** creeper***
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Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 2:35 AM UTC
A Silly Little Limerick Called -Tom Peeper
Flippant, frivolous, funny. Witty, droll, comic. Jokey, playful, sportive. Mischievous—a whole 'nother can of worms.
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Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 2:56 PM UTC
Facetious
I text you. As usual. It’s jokey. You say that top I’m wearing would look good on your floor. Then you stop. Correct yourself. ‘Our.’ Our floor? ‘Us’, ‘we’, ‘you’, ‘me’. Our. You say you’ll take care of me and I tell you I won’t run away. You joke about the pressure. You want to see me again. You want to kiss me a million times. You say you’re my guy and I’m your girl. Our floor, our lives, our one mind together. Our. You tell me in sleepy pillow talk a thousand miles away. ‘I’m wrapped around your finger.’ ‘I’, ‘you’, ‘me’, ‘we’. I have to google it. Am I manipulative because of it? Or do I have way too much power in this situation? The internet tells me I should be happy. You are already head over heels. Am I head over heels? Are ‘we’ head over heels? We joke again. If we were rich, where would we live. ‘New York, of course,’ I said. ‘Let’s get a place in the Caribbean too.’ He said. An island built for two, Just me and you. An island un-alone, We say it over the phone. I wish I was permanently near, Not far, So that you and I, us, Could become an ‘our’.
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Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 4:29 AM UTC
Our
I hate that I'm always trying to fit myself into a box I get so frustrated with myself Trying to be what everyone wants me to be A different version of myself for every friend, lover, family member, stranger It doesn't matter I want to please everyone But you can't please everyone I can't And I can't stand it Why can't I be exactly what you need? Because I can only be me Me Who am I? Such a cliched question I always thought I knew who I was But lately, I'm never sure Am I sarcastic and hardworking and cheerful, like the girl at work? Am I silly and jokey and fun, like the girl with my friends? Am I quiet and thoughtful and sweet, like the girl at school? Am I **** and nerdy and fun, like the girl that's with you? Who am I? I'm all of these things All of these things at different times and at the same time and it's making me crazy I can't even write good poetry That's how crazy it's making me And you know what the worst part is? None of it's good enough I feel like so few people truly love me So I'm trying so hard to be these different people and I'm falling short every time So what I really need to do.... Is to stop trying
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Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 2:08 AM UTC
There is no "Try"; Only "Do"
I grabbed her fawning hands to mine And we danced on the dish of the moon Serenaded by a loon's rollicking tune That could not keep up with Our loud passion cries Echoing hill to hill Back and forth In and out Crescendoing into ecstatic shouts Easing us finally to love's little death Nearly out of breath As we watched the jokey sun rising in the west And how our tired kisses Were flying off our lips Into the clownish banditry of the wind's harsh riffs
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Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 4:21 PM UTC
HIGH on a High and Windy Hill
Ah, she's got these twinkly eyes, ya know? Like really thin blue irises and really bright blue. Not neon blue that's so bright it's lost colour, but bright blue like you find on a Caribbean beach. You've had a good look at her eyes. You really like her, I can already tell. When she looks at you, Can you see the emotion in her eyes? Do her eyes shine when she looks at you? I don't know, She always seems happy when I see her. But they're warm eyes as well When I was sad they were warm and understanding, When I was happy and jokey they were... Alive
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Sep 8, 2016
Sep 8, 2016 at 6:39 PM UTC
Beautiful Eyes Baby Blue