"josie" poems
In Oklahoma,
Bonnie and Josie,
Dressed in calico,
Danced around a stump.
They cried,
"Ohoyaho,
Ohoo" ...
Celebrating the marriage
Of flesh and air.
13.7k
"𝑴𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑻𝒂𝒏𝒊, 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒂𝒏 𝒃𝒂 𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒍 𝒊𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒈
𝒎𝒈𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒈-𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒏 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏?"
"𝒀𝒆𝒔 𝑱𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒆! 𝑨𝒉 𝑱𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒆 𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒐𝒚ㅡ𝒀𝒆𝒔, 𝑱𝒖𝒏!"
Magkamali man ang iyong labi
ng pangalang masambit
magkamali man ang iyong ngipin
ng pagkagat at pagbanggit,
sa dulo ng iyong pag-uulat,
ako pa rin ang bida at balitang isisiwalat.
"𝑺𝒂 𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒑, 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒌𝒊𝒕𝒂 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒐𝒚-𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒐𝒚 𝒏𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒔 𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒂𝒃𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒕, 𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒉𝒊𝒍 𝒔𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒈𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒆."
Itago mo man ang iyong mga tawa,
ikubli ang ngiti sa pag-ubo at paghinga,
ilibing mo man ang aking pangalan,
sa'yong dila at diwa ay nakaukit na ito
magpakailanman.
Oct 16, 2024
Oct 16, 2024 at 1:23 PM UTC
At the stroke of five o’ clock
The crew begins to trickle in the door for
Josie’s Slumber Party.
Hand cut finger sandwiches adorn
The chestnut coffee table already brimming
With nail polishes and eyeshadows
In hues of peacock blue and bubblegum pink
And temptress scarlet red. The girls
Romp around the room like ballerinas
Dressed in everything from soccer shorts to
Mama’s high heels. Two sizes too big.
Practically ladies as they gloss their lips but
Girlish giggles and squeals reveal their
Youth: Age ten; age eleven; age twelve.
And in the middle of this fine affair
Polished nails are used to pick at teeth;
Makeup adheres to bangs, braids and ponytails.
Bare hands brush through the knotted hair of
Any and All. Beauty – of course – is collective, yet
Dignified.
As if to call the girls over, lure them in so painfully slow,
The sprinklers awaken on the front lawn and spill forth
Waterfalls of childhood memories. Running barefoot
during the searing summer dusk. The girls are under
The Spell. Feather boa and lipstick at hand, they make
A mad dash for the lawn. The squeals are louder, more
Vibrant than before. With grass stains on their gowns
and water re-tangling their freshly styled hair, these
Ladies could not be any more proper.
Jul 11, 2011
Jul 11, 2011 at 3:37 PM UTC
I was at the entrance
of the high-rise apartments
and I phoned my grandma upstairs
and she offered me her instructions:
*“Well, Josie…I’m at 354
you got to hit the green, square button
with your elbow
at the entrance where you are;
and I’ll release open the glass doors
and then go to the lift on the right
and punch the button with your elbow
and then get in and punch 3
with your elbow
and then when you are up on 3
look for Unit 54
and punch on its button with your elbow
and I’ll open the door”*
*“OK, easy, grandma…
But why am I punching all these
buttons with my elbow?”*
“What?” my grandma screamed.
“You mean you are coming empty-handed?”
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 5:06 AM UTC
Josie was ur everyday *****
strolling 3rd &
Lenox; she could get fifty from
a yuppy on a weekday
& easily bring in $1,000 a weekend+frills &
bennies; the
kid dropped out of the high school
where Josie used to teach & made a date
for that Wednesday & knocked her up; now they're
doing okay; he sells Insurance &
she's driving a Lexus;
kicking [talk about good for each other;
it's like the kid had had a vision;
& the kids all collegiate jocks w/ attitude;
[the oldest a lesbian;
smack long ago;
Josie is ur average housewife
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 1:04 AM UTC
Real questions I've been asked by the 3 year old I care for
Dia do you have a mancave
Dia did you get new toilet paper
Dia are those antlers for the cheese
My answers respectively are fairly straightforward
No I don't but I sure wish I did
Yeah I got the really soft pillowy kind thanks for noticing
I have no idea if those antlers are for the cheese but I don't see why not.
I am generally confident with the answers I provide
However once in awhile she asks me
Dia do you have a ***** today
And I'm stumped because the answer Josie
is so much more complicated than no
Because I want to say someday you will learn how that no matters every single day in more ways than I can tell you
That no has everything to do with the way I take up space
That no is my mother's refusal to buy me bow ties in favor of silver necklaces
That no is the cringe in my heartbeat when people call me a lesbian
That no is the source of fear I carry as a shield when I *** in public restrooms
That no is what I use to bind this chest to prove something I can't prove with a yes to that question
A no is the answer that sales person gives when I ask for those shoes in my size
That suit in my size
That body in my size
The mirror in my eyes
I've had a home in the lies I've told instead of no
The world asks that question every single day and I never have the right answer
It would be so much easier if the world asked if those antlers are for the cheese.
Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 6:33 PM UTC
We wore sport bras
And smoked out of an apple
She kept handing me the temptation
After every pull from her lips
Until I opened my eyes and desire
Was inside of me
******* the **** out of me
My first time with a girl
That lion made my head swirl
White Russians hitting on me harder
Than the bouncer outside
Pouring the drinks on the bar
As I watch her roam around
in pig tails and sweatpants
As she makes me wet
Still in love with her ex
But I'm determined to be next
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 4:36 AM UTC
I've never liked my name,
so I tell you to call me Josie.
The O, an arc over the roses of my childhood
the garden in the front yard
where I fell asleep listening to Ravi Shankars' sitar.
Slipping, dead to the world, among the night blooming jasmine.
A beautiful thing.
Tonight,
future uncertain,
the stone weight of your head, adrift in dream on my hip,
feels a comfort to my blues.
A beautiful thing.
Napoleon for his Josephine,
can feel
the breath that you leave heavy on my thigh.
A beautiful thing.
Nov 2, 2019
Nov 2, 2019 at 2:48 AM UTC
i loved a girl
with broken eyes
deep, sad
you could drown in them
and so i did
gasping for breath
as she pulled me under
i loved a girl
with too many scars
reminders of battles i could not help her win
with every tracing by my fingers
i wished to erase
any and all of her pain
i loved a girl
from a broken home
yelling parents
alcohol consumed
i tried to be an island
a steady rock
an alternative to the misery of her house
i loved a girl
and gave her my all
so it killed me harder
to watcher her fall
into this pit of sadness and addiction
and as i sit here in pain, wishing i could have saved her
i wondered if loving anyone
was worth it
Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 12:53 AM UTC
If the only sound we had to hear at night
Was the sprinklers
Wouldn't things be so easy?
No, we just have to have those pesky kids playing Josie at 3 AM
Aug 10, 2017
Aug 10, 2017 at 8:33 AM UTC
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Jake and Brita were searching for not just a mouse.
Their stockings were hung by the fridge with care,
In hopes that mom Laurel would willingly share.
In just a short time they were snug in their beds,
While visions of chipmunks danced in their heads.
It wasn't just chipmunks they dreamed of that night,
But also the rabbits who they made take flight.
In a short time there arose such a clatter
They jumped from the couch to see what was the matter.
And there to their wondering eyes did appear
The spirits of others that used to live here.
First, there was Josie who made the most noise,
Chasing the others, especially the boys.
But Ari and Teddy would not let her run
Because they decided she'd stifle their fun.
Tori was circling to see what to do
When Kobie and Liver quickly ran through.
Then they ALL came together to join in a song
While Brita and Jake, wide eyed, looked on.
The message they brought on that night of a birth
Was of PEACE and GOOD WILL to all on the earth.
This message was clear to those who would listen,
As clear as the snow which often would glisten.
And then, in the distance, was the sound of a whistle
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But they were heard to exclaim as they flew out of sight,
"Peace to all of God's creatures, and to all a good-night!"
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 12:48 AM UTC
I do not hate my body for the dysphoria, I do not hate it for the wrong that it is for me but instead love it for the right it should have been for someone else.
I treasure my arms and my legs, my face and my chest, and I work to mold them into the kind of perfection I will never desire, because the only alternative is stepping into a pyre and proving to the world that this birth was not for me by trial of fire
I respect the body I was born into, even if at times it mixes the black and it mixes the blue, even if I recognize that all this forced-on love perpetuates the crimes of gender that I have worked so hard to hide
I hold myself with the strength that my dream self carries, and slip away into the mind-ferries that take me back to the days when I would pick black-berries and realize that like my lips they would look fine as hell colored with cherries
I do not hate this body for the dysphoria, I just feel the sting of eyes that immediately think ‘male’ when I wear a dress, like, do I have to write it on my forehead that ‘she’ is how you need to address me?! Do I have to rip off my ***** and sew on a different *** for you to learn how to respect me?
I cry this body to sleep, rocking it in my arms because I know that like my brown father’s black baby it’s not wanted. It’s perfection is a defection that I wish I could love, but when I don’t watch my thoughts I just find myself wanting it to leave.
I do not hate this body for the dysphoria, I just feel like I should have been given a body in which I could get cozy, one that fit me, one not for Tom, Or George, but instead for Josie.
Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 12:46 PM UTC
I know a girl who is
walking poetry
walking lyrics
walking inspiration.
I know a girl who is
lovely inside
lovely outside
so lovely
she puts diamonds to shame.
I know a girl who is
rhythm and meter
rhythm and rhyme
a rhythm encompassed with love.
I know a girl who is
walking poetry.
- m.c.
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 8:01 PM UTC
She's such an elegant lady,
Her walk defines her well,
She speaks with such intelligence,
I know her very well,
She tells great stories of her youth,
I could listen all day long,
She's interesting and very unique,
Just like a classical song,
She travels all around the world,
And learns from cultures new,
She takes all things in her stride,
I wish you knew her to,
I appreciate all her company,
It's seldom we meet that's true,
And so I write this poem for her,
Just to say, thanks for being you.
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 5:36 PM UTC
Elizabeth And Josie
Her weeping tears flow over her eyes,
Only because her love surpassed her hold,
I felt passionate love myself, but you are mere lies,
DIVINE LOVE!,, You betrayed our hearts, the fiendish lies you told,,
My beloved, see flesh and blood, truth not illusions,
I do know the truth, and all my passion cries for her, another,
She a picture, not Love, to be loved, YOU! created this conclusion,
She cried our love IS divine, we DO complete the other.
I love her more
🧍🏻♀️
Feb 23, 2020
Feb 23, 2020 at 2:25 PM UTC