"jonas" poems
I love the way you laugh.
It sounds like a dog throwing up.
I want to run my hands through your hair.
I bet it's as soft as a chinchilla's fur.
I love your height.
How it makes you look like you're the genetic product of Nick Jonas and a giraffe.
I love your eyes.
You're so full of **** that even your eyes are brown.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 2:00 PM UTC
sticks and stones may break your bones,
but they will also start fires…
the importance of fire safety isn’t taken lightly,
so please take the time to act politely.
now no offense but from one girl to another,
you’re not Adele, Sean Kingston, or the Jonas Brothers.
do not set fire to the rain that pours,
call 9-1-1 before you burn up on the dance floor.
when the heat settles in and you’re feeling dry,
to your candles and cigarettes please say goodbye.
(since those items are illegal anyways,
you’ll be fined if they are caught ablaze).
this isn’t the Upper Room where fire fell on everyone’s head
keep the Holy Spirit’s fire set in your soul instead.
ignore this advice and your world will crash,
as before your eyes Miller Hall turns to ash.
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 10:45 PM UTC
Hope
By Shani Jonas
I actually believe that there is hope for this generation
For the boys and girls and adults of this nation
Even with teen pregnancies
And puberty coming too fast
With rapes and murders
And relationships that don't last
With mini thugs and thieves
With judement that's cruel
With abuse and hunger
And no religion in schools
I may be a fool
To think that we can possibly achieve something in this dog eat dog world
But I have a lot of hope
For just a 12 year old girl
I believe that men
Will stop treating women as objects
That they will stop watching her "twerk her stuff"
And really mean their "I love you"
Women will stop getting dragged by society into the black ashes of the souls that used to belong to confident girls
That they will stop being insecure
So they can see the roses among the thorns
And the buds among dry leaves
I wish that parents will stop beating their children
Because is it worth all the pain?
Killing your own flesh and blood?
I know I can't do much
To change all the evil in the world
But there is one thing that both you and I can do to help.
And that is to pray and
Hope
Hope
Hope, for a better life
Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 11:12 PM UTC
**Scattered Thunderstorms
The radar shows a band of multi-green storms,
Parallel running to the East Coast,
Stretching from So. Florida to Falmouth, Rhode Island.
Path-dependent, the edges skirt my present location,
Instrumented, but not weather resistant,
Water teases, invites me to a head clearing session.
Breezy gusts of overcast, caramel salty bay waters,
(weirdly calm),
Spray sprites whisper, scattered thunderstorms, starboard side
I am the only boat out, especially,
The only one going for sure aimlessly,
Radar non-discriminatory, stupidity legal,
So fools like me go out alone.
Scattered Thunderstorms,
Unavoidable, summer's favored annoyance of choice.
The melancholic platelets budding off my bone's marrow,
Forming wondrous clots of sadness,
Running strong in the currents of my veins,
Downtempo'd, there is no relief for
Inside of my radar scanned brain, the scattered thunderstorms,
Have arrived much earlier today.
What sourced this elegiac distich,
Too many poets, fully disclosing their downbeat, aroma of defeat?
The world is in a **** mood, not one of us, got nothing
Good to say, seems that love storms ripping hearts
With no trace of mercy, the radio has elected nonstop
Taylor Swift and Jonas Bro's
Just to make the point!
It is so easy to feel ******
When the sun is unshining, elegant distich, **** me.
Thinking back, getting a good idea,
Found some long necked Corona overlooked,
Turn on the tv, pretend I'm a real cowboy,
And for god's sake, shut down poetry,
Good Bye Poetry, for the rest of the day
Value you more than me, but you've worn me down
My blood streams your anguished distress,
I cannot survive these scattered revolver-repeating
Anguish-Cries-For-Relief from the Thunderstorms,
That now having reached, breached,
That now, having infected my heart which started
This day brow beaten,
First poem of the day, already shell-shellacked,
Now, I must shut me, batten me, down.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The average lifespan of a platelet is normally just 5 to 9 days. Platelets are a natural source of growth factors. They circulate in the blood of mammals and are involved in hemostasis, leading to the formation of blood clots.
Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 2:26 PM UTC
I don't know what Jonas has been preaching,
There's a pigmie on the roof
And claymores in the kitchen.
I never rejected nothing
Cept when I was dazed and dazed and confused and confused
If I wanted to leave
I would use the door I saved for later
That leads out into the void.
I need to take a day away
Or breakdown and watch Casablanca all day long...
Because I thought it was a forever song I was singing,
But I'm out of tune,
And my rheumy eyes are liars,
And I want to christen my great granddaughter
But I'll be dead...
I just wanted my declarations to resound,
But in a town of disrespect
Chain link fences make for noisy neighbors.
I have every bit of it on the line for YOU.
I'll drop it,
But it will stand on end,
Like a trick quarter.
Four in the morning
Forty five caliber bullets blasting
I found myself in the backseat
Of a burned up police car.
Every thing is rotten,
Except the infantine seamstress
Who doesn't come out anymore,
Because you scar(r)ed her.
I just wish I could eat a bag of salt brine soaked
Ballpark peanuts, shells and all without having a **** stroke.
I wish I could, smoke, without Jiminy Cricket, calling my doctor,
And the red squad arriving with the straight jackets,
And the bear mace.
I can't project the rigght radiation,
I get that, but its not for lack of dying.
So this is my death letter, to be read to my reincarnated infant self
Twenty three times, by twenty four different people,
I want a life size wax model of Eeivel Keneival
To throw rice at me thrice
Once for each marriage,
But on the third throw wild rice
Because that is what I think of when I think of you.
The burglar ate my begging strips
And the ravenous dog
Is getting impatient....
I've seen the truth in the darkness of the soldier core.
Why not open the gate to abracadabra land,
Give me a list of your one thousand forms
In code of course,
And I will pay the piper
So he can finally change this doggone song.
Sep 6, 2012
Sep 6, 2012 at 6:56 AM UTC
let's just say i'm doing fine
jonas says he's going back to california
the roughage of a thousand ocean floors
roll me into their waves and
strangle my heart instantly
pulling him away,
always,
all ways...
jonas and i are in the kitchen at standing on end
"i'm getting out of here, you know"
he pulls out the Gilly mug he always uses here
i read the wisdom beneath the scribbles of his hands
jonas left two weeks ago, i won't hear from him
he's living like a shadow, passing over, never sinking in
everyone everywhere he's ever been will never remember his name
none of them will know who he is
will our ties weaken or will we make
deeper grooves every time we retrace a step?
like highways after years of traffic
May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 9:12 PM UTC
Dedication
by Shani Jonas
Caramel kissed skin
And big brown eyes
Goofy laugh that makes me melt
And a sweet scent that never gets out of my head
But self-esteem is at an all time low...
others walk on you
But you just don't realize
You think their your friends
But they talk about you behind your back
And they don't consider you one of them,
They push you down
use you
and don’t see how wonderful you truly are.
but i?
i love you.
in more ways than one
you are my brother, my crush, my great friend
and a stupendous addition to my life
you’re sweet and cuddly and never put up a fight
you are a shoulder to cry on
and my own personal advice giver
you make me laugh when we joke around
And I love it when you tease me
i have had feelings like this before
but never this strong
that means you are special
that you are the one
Why can't you be mine?
I want to be at your side
All of the time
Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 11:20 PM UTC
Wounded knees, mango trees,
Walking down the same old street,
Eight years old, feeling bold,
A **** on the nose and an awful cold,
Chicken pox, knee-high socks,
Folded letters in a black shoe box,
Ponytails, fairy tales,
Choir practice, don't forget to exhale,
Chapter books, nasty looks,
Never had the chance to cook,
Constant smothers, doting mother,
Shamelessly listening to The Jonas Brothers,
Toothy grins, double chin,
Constantly losing bobby pins,
Stupid drama, Oxford Comma,
No DS for Cooking Mama
Cheeks flushed, prep crush,
I still regret that very much,
Detention, pay attention,
Meet everyone's expectations,
Disappointment, good intent
Nothing that I said was meant,
Growing up, just shut up,
Remember it's okay to mess up,
Years went by, I wonder why,
When did my childhood say goodbye?
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 4:12 AM UTC
Alice has
Been broken up with
Constantly on the first
Date because the
Elligible bachelors make her
Fail to
Give a good first impression
Heaven knows
In time she’ll learn how to
Jonas wants to live a
Keynote moment with a special
Lady even if she’s
Mad because to him
Nothing is working
Out the way it should
Presently the universe is producing
Quietly Alice and Jonas’
Relationship
Sunday morning
They met
Under the pouring rain sourrounded by animals
Vows
Were soon exchanged
Xanax was needed to calm down Alice that day
You should know that today they are taking their kid to a
Zoo where they first met
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 5:04 PM UTC
Jonas is just too busy
never not bored while he's working
cause with too much time on my uncallused hands
productivity and near ended jobs are not an issue
soon they will be
and I too will be inconvenient and preoccupied
too tied up to answer a phone when it rings on loud
I will be too busy for electronics
Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 11:23 PM UTC
Our footsteps echo through ancient halls,
where here is everywhere
and every time is now.
Caesar’s twin-edged conquests are our own
as is Brutus’s fickle knife
and Marc Anthony’s cunning speech.
Plague steals across our Europe
like a remorseless highwayman -
rosies all ringed and falling down.
We wait in Wien's Kärntnertor theater
for Schiller’s An die Freude
to shine anew in Beethoven’s score
and are ushered in at Menlo Park
where Edison's tungsten faintly glows.
Tomorrow will bring sun to the night.
There's Jonas Salk at his microscope.
One more test will crack the code
to banish polio's scourge.
But nature’s caprice strews logs on our roads.
We are dashed by a Tsunami’s rage.
Katrina’s torrents have swallowed our homes.
Prides of warriors wade rivers of blood
and Darfur bullets tear into our chests.
Nuclear Toys ‘R Us shelves are fully stocked.
We are the heirs of each triumph and treachery.
We grasp the keys to tomorrow.
What have we done? What must we do?
Aug 3, 2013
Aug 3, 2013 at 5:35 AM UTC
In this Nightmare where Today Feels Like Lies, I see Joe Jonas and he tells me, it's Time to Dance.
And Oh look, there's Peter! Pete tells me, that Music is Life! But I already knew this.
And there's Jimmy Sullivan--The Rev tells me, Don't Jump. I won't. I don't want to be Buried Alive. ----
"I just wanna live while I'm alive 'Cause it's my life."
Avenged Sevenfold is the Cardiology that keeps my heart beating.
Now What If... this was real and not a Dream?
Let's just Dance for Tonight.
Jan 18, 2011
Jan 18, 2011 at 9:38 AM UTC
Suicidal Thoughts
by Shani Jonas
I paint a pretty picture
on the base of my wrist
with my razor and some red liquid
and my hand clenched into a fist
I do one stroke for everything thing I hate
everything that gets me down
I do a stroke for everything that turns my ugly smile
into an even uglier frown
I do one stroke for promises
that are very often broken
There is one stroke for love not returned
When someone throws away your kind token
another stroke goes on my wrist
for all the unfairness in this time
things go good for a second
and go bad for months at a time
A stroke for all the people I can’t stand
a stroke for all the harm done
a stroke for all stupidity in the world
a stroke for all the guns
that **** all those innocent people
I use this razor to show the things that I hide inside
one more stroke and I’m dead...
*A stroke for committing suicid--*
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 9:30 AM UTC
America, how long have you been blindfolded?
It was only supposed to be a count of twenty;
Eight years? Thanks, ****
September 11, 2001
Sitting in a gym, wearing shorts slightly too small
Hitting a birdie back and forth
The towers fell quicker than the Jonas brothers’ career.
Thirteen and the whole world an opportunity,
Liberties taken away, like a baby needing her milk.
But that baby never had her milk, did she, America?
When did marriage become the window that needed a brick through it?
All we needed was love, but now it’s a prenup and some ********
Nothing is genuine, except the music people tell us is good.
Holden, you’re just as phony as the war on terror.
Maybe if you keep repeating the word, people get the idea.
Hey MGMT, I'm in the prime of my life,
but the man holds me back every day.
You tube gets me through the day,
It reminds me of a better time
I watch cartoons that remind me I’m still a kid,
Even though I know it’s not true.
Hey Arnold! Did you ever have to grow up?
Did you ever have to tell someone that life only gets better if you believe?
When did people need chaos to give their lives meaning?
I sit with my frat and drink,
Everyday.
We’re the new melting *** America.
You’ve been sitting on the stove for too long.
I put my heart out as a sacrifice,
I’m not Mayan, but I can see the truth
Dramatic examples drive it home.
RIP Heath Ledger.
Daniel Day Lewis isn’t far behind
December 21, 2012.
Both dates have something in common,
0, 1 and 2:
Two days in which the world was altered
One race; blinded by the truth in front of them
And zero hope, that we dig ourselves out of a pit of pleasures
What about nine?
Nine can turn around and become a 6,
We’re all imperfect anyway
**** perfection.
Hey Chavez,
I'll stick up for you;
Anyone who likes MLK can't be all bad.
America: the place where you can speak your mind;
Every other Tuesday
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 5:19 PM UTC
This just in off the presses Eliot throws in the towel and sells Hello
for a pair of front row Jonas Brothers tickets.
In other news the pub the oldest group on hello is being forced to close
its doors due to noise complaints from the coffee shop
who claim they can bareley here there good awful music
or read there twilght books.
Gary La Buda is very short and writes lots of books
so he can use them to see over the steering wheel.
Many people have asked and finaly hello has answred
to what we do not know.
Yesterday a man died of boredom trying to actully read
all the poems on the charts at poetry soup.
When the owner's were awoken from there nap time
there only reply was Is it time to color yet?
Poets who get to the top of the charts yet only have two comments
my question?
who are they blowing.
Look for my next report when I let everyone know the poet
soon to be leaving this madhouse of a site.
Untill next time always seek the truth
Aug 13, 2010
Aug 13, 2010 at 1:08 PM UTC
You (YKWYA)
by Shani Jonas aka Aririkatoki
How can I just ignore
the way you make me feel?
The way that you have my heart sprinting
it's almost as if it was in a race
Yes, a race, where the trophy is your love and affection
a race, where even though the finish line seems to be no where in sight
my heart keeps running
Because it's wishing, hoping
that all this work will be worth it in the end
because I'll have you, right?
Wrong.
You have my stomach doing gymnastics
tricks that would get 10 gold medals
but what good would those be?
they don't matter
because even after all those awards
I won't be happy
because I wouldn't have you
Oh, I try and try and try
I really do
but no matter how much I try
I can't be just friends with you
So even though we joke and laugh and play
and even though it may not seem this way
My heart is still racing
and my stomach is still flipping
and my soul?
my soul is just longing
and even though I know the finish line will never come
and that all those medals will never be enough
my soul will still long
and that's all that I can do.
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 10:21 PM UTC
I only spit shine our hikes
in the woods and I marinate rain drops
in melted wax so we can peal
it off our skins when we get bored later.
I only exfoliate on lost time while
maneuvering around false hope
you seem to deliver from an eternity
void, stamped and all. I must jump its
sound and skip a couple staircases
to find its Jonas Salk. I only go mad on
the colors I write about the clown who keeps
his nose on a rounded cliff and
his acts in prepositions. I invest
verbs with the future and liquidate
past futile nouns in denial.
I plunge the toilet of the oppressed
monk who never gets the good and
rough *** those mornings the birds sing.
I sew fellowship when viscosity
is at maximum and the sewage
ruptures four feet from the prince
of mercantile who ends up
building a wall to protect himself
and others from the foggy morning.
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 2:46 AM UTC
PLAGUES
by Shani Jonas
Plagues will die
Plagues will burn
Plagues will burn in hell
fiery, fiery hell
Down, Down, Down and Drown.
Vroom Vroom
The gas so thick
burning match stick
woomph
The body engulfed in flames
What is it?
Is it a... Cat?
There's something wrong with that.
Maybe it's a special type. I may have misspelled it.
The body *burns, burns, burns, burns, burns, burns, burns
burns.*
BURNS DOWN TO HELL
Bye, Bye Plague
What?!?
WHAT IS THIS?!?
Reborn? The plague reborn?
Like a phoenix, a plague reborn?
WILL IT NEVER LEAVE ME AND MY SOUL ALLLLLLOOOOOOOONNNNEEE?!?
WHY HAS IT- THE CURSED THING- RETURNED?
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 2:55 PM UTC
How wonderful to sit beside Phyllis
Fully there
Available, attentive
Unwavering support
She was selfish with her attention
On her search
for “balm for her soul.”
Phyllis would get great things to happen
Between the two or more of you
She could get everyone to be themselves.
Reading, meals with friends,
At lectures and during those unguarded exchanges
with trusted friends
Her life was a quest for balm for her soul
She would also find it
Among the poems, readings,
zoom talks with her children and grandchildren
Yet, she was always seeking more.
She knew that when she let her mind run wild
and let the raucous kid in her play
She gathered balm for her soul
and became lost in splendor.
We, her friends, imagine that now
She is in eternal peace
Cloaked in balm
Enraptured in splendor
*We can balm our souls and lose ourselves in splendor (Jonas Altman)
Dec 1, 2022
Dec 1, 2022 at 9:09 AM UTC
Hurt
By Shani Jonas
A broken heart.
That doesn't even begin
To define the word hurt
When you're emotionally hurt
It’s a thousand screams
Shredding the in the lungs
A sinking pit in the bottom of one's stomach
A stabbing knife under the ribs
The slouched back and the distraught mind
And the thought of kicking everything
To feel pain other than the one that’s felt on the inside.
Sometimes you just want to leave your body. To fly away into the bright sky
The cool breeze against your face and nothing on your mind
No one wants to face the hurt they’re feeling
No matter what its about
The twist in the side
The ache in the mind
That’s what hurt’s all about.
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 11:54 AM UTC
Future
by Shani Jonas
Look into the future.
What do you see?
do you see yourself famous,
or a martyr to this world?
will you have a nice house, or will you live on the street?
will you have children, or have none?
will you go to college, or leave from high school
will you focus on work, or on fun?
the future is always changing....
flipping and turning around
because in reality there is many futures
and one thing leads to another...
then..........
BOOM!
gone.......................
forever.
for the future quickly becomes the past.
with every word on this page
time passes..........
and you’re inching closer
closer to you future
the future is what you make it
so make it a good one...........................
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 11:52 AM UTC
3 Person Sidewalk
By Shani Jonas
Have you you ever tried to walk on a sidewalk
With three people side by side?
It's very hard you see.
Because of oncoming traffic from other pedestrians
Or scaffoldings and construction in the way
Or cuz of any other obstacle?
Well, one person usually gets pushed to the back
And I'm usually that one
While my friends are up ahead, chatting like there's no tomorrow
I'm at the back
Alone.
Oh, if only there was 3 person sidewalks
So no one would be left out
No one would be left behind.
Because 3 people on a two person sidewalk
One has to get isolated
But why is that one always me?
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 11:56 AM UTC
I think that you only care about the relationship you have with flames and desperation.
You told me once that you got so high off a blunt that you floated up into the sky and tapped danced with Jesus on a cloud. When I inquired about his appearance, you lite a match off your shoe and nonchalantly said that he looked like the love child of Patrick Swayze and the curly haired Jonas Brother.
I hid your demons under the broken steps that you used to climb to catch the morning train, as I know that you would rather die that feel that suffocated once again. Of course, I still watch you fill your lungs with smoke, but your mother sighs and whispers that you have been improving. I choke on the air you breathe.
You are dying fast, yet this doesn't seem to bother you in the slightest, and you would rather lay in bed and watch your ceiling fan that climb out the window and see the sky. In your defense, the fan is a nice shade of blue, but the morning light is my preference.
You disappeared for a week in July and were labeled a missing person by the government. After you showed up on my doorstep half drunk and ***** I couldn't bare to tell you that I was so relieved that you were gone. I let you inside anyway, because seeing your brown puppy dog eyes makes me wish that I could save you.
I am watching you destroy yourself, and you don't even have the decency to remember my name.
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 1:20 AM UTC