"joviality" poems
We’re all different
A fact that some will take with stride
And others will take out their black & white boxes
Trying to cram you into margins that you’ll never fit into
Labels
Just another way to categorize us as objects
Smashing our individuality with a hammer
Until we are all identical, with no more identity
Freedom
Something we are considered lucky to have
Where other countries struggle day by day
Fighting to stay themselves
Yet in our free country
I still find myself fighting for liberation,
Scratching at the cement surface
For endless years
Walking around, trying to be uniform
It’s meant to make us comfortable, but makes me die inside
We all walk in straight, marching band lines like militia members
And walk on forever without a second thought
Individuality
A gift given to us all that we must cherish, hold onto
Accept everyone around you for their good and bad habits
Accept people for who they are, whether you like them or not
One day, I will break free
Run in the opposite direction
With my arms spread out wide
Feeling like Rosa Parks when she claimed her seat
One day I will not be scared of my freedom
One day I will not be scared of trying to explain to people who I am
I will never be scared of friends
I will never be scared of strangers
I will never be scared of family
Boys, girls, adults, parents, siblings
One day I won’t be scared of myself anymore
Scared of making the wrong decisions
And letting everyone around me down
The weights of expectations always make me hide in the shadows
To where I feel I’ll never be good enough
But today, I smile at all my obstacles
With my mind set on “Dare To Be Dangerous”
Because exploring everything around me
Has been a roller coaster of joviality that I’ve always needed
I’ve made new friends this year
Gotten very close to others
But I learned an important lesson
I love who I am
And I will come to accept the future me
But for now I’m different
And that’s all I ever wanted to be
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 11:22 AM UTC
If your silky lavender eyes choose not to meet mine
That’s fine.
Fantasies live and then die.
But for you, I'll try.
A man whose eyes hold only yours,
Sweet, lavender gazing privately,
Other sight blinded by joviality.
Uncontrollable emotion,
A shotgun blast from dad,
Deters no serious man.
A princess,
A jewel,
An emerald,
A girl.
Not an object,
But a privilege.
A man not centered on ***
Relationship not just in the bed,
Kisses on tangerine cheeks,
Through rain,
Foretelling lifelong love.
Soft skin swims,
I touch with permission,
We laugh and love,
None other.
Flawless beauty,
Like diamond,
Like velvet,
A wonderful image.
Thus you.
----Ardent Bowel ----
Nov 28, 2012
Nov 28, 2012 at 6:10 AM UTC
If your silky lavender eyes choose not to meet mine
That’s fine.
Fantasies live and then die.
But for you, I'll try.
A man whose eyes hold only yours,
Sweet, lavender gazing privately,
Other sight blinded by joviality.
Uncontrollable emotion,
A shotgun blast from dad,
Deters no serious man.
A princess,
A jewel,
An emerald,
A girl.
Not an object,
But a privilege.
A man not centered on ***
Relationship not just in the bed,
Kisses on tangerine cheeks,
Through rain,
Foretelling lifelong love.
Soft skin swims,
I touch with permission,
We laugh and love,
None other.
Flawless beauty,
Like diamond,
Like velvet,
A wonderful image.
Thus you.
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 4:41 PM UTC
postulate carnivals festivities ferris wheels unicorns
tooting horns laughs squeals of carnivorous
joviality held breath heights scary games of chance
winning all today
it is our day
to populate reality
with
fairy tales or obliviate insanity send notice
from highs cry together deny no more the obvious
sobriety holding in that hit wary of getting caught
losing it all
so say with me
I believe
in fairy tales
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 4:27 AM UTC
I sit here
Trying to read meaning into every missing second
Every little blip that it took you to think about what you just said…
Doubt? Restraint? How best to lie?
What flies
Through your mind?
Does it have anything to do with the fact
That you told me that you loved me
And then apologized…
What of that?
I apologize for nothing
I regret not a single thing done
I take back not a smile, a laugh, a song sung
In joviality…
Somehow our love was just this odd joke
That we entertained off and on
We were thrown into chaos when it broke
Over reality…
Like an egg cracked on top of a globe
It encased our small, narrow-minded world
Made it slip out our fingers
Made it roll, made it whirl.
Now we sit here with this
Slimy, newborn thing
Not sure whether or not to laugh at such a preposterous idea
And fling
It from us…
Or to examine it, seriously and closely
Think about it for a while
Pick and choose what we want
Contemplate the weight of denial…
If you really just want someone to always be there
Someone to watch movies with
Someone to laugh with
Then I guess I don’t really care…
I just wish it hadn’t been said at all…
A ball
Will roll if you push it…
An object in motion will remain so
Until something stops it…
But really,
Your apology has gone and done what it ought…
It has successfully replaced and retracted
All that was thought…
I’m sure we’ll be great friends
Until you slip up…again.
Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 4:32 PM UTC
Since the very beginning of joining the *ELEPHANTS TUSK CLUB". He wondered whether others might make fun of him, and sure enough, every time he put on his Hide Coat and his Tusk crown, joviality seemed to pour out from the walls. "HARTY-HAR,,,HARTY-HAR, laughter and mirth he heard from near and far. But, that didn't deter him from his Delight in being a Member in the ELEPHANT -TUSK club. Just about everybody desired the benefits the Club membership provided. Here listed are some most asked about: TWO years Free cleaning for your Hide coat, Two years free shining of your Tusk crown, Two years of *Bellowing training at the unheard Price of only 10.00 per class, based on attending 9 classes a month, instead of the standard price of 25.00 per Class of *Bellowing training, Two years of Free Circus tickets, for those events not occurring in your home town, Two years of Hauling feed and hay training for the low,,low price of 25.00 per class, for 4 classes, *YOU would not believe the waiting list for Membership in the *ELEPHANT TUSK CLUB ! ! Filled with folks from "ALL" walks of life. "SIGN UP NOW" and receive THREE (3) grades of memory chips,,#1= everything for last 40 years, #2= the last 20 years, #3=- last 10 years ! AND, that means memories of everything, FULL descriptions played over and over until you "Click-Off". ALSO,,includes Memory of Elephant, Trainer, Tusk Remover. Each time you click on- the memories will be played over and OVER AND OVER ! ! The fee "AT MANAGEMENT- IS ONLY 5.00each replay. " W O W " ,,,,Y O U, yes YOU, will Not forget anything ! THAT IS WHY YOU WANTED TO JOIN THE CLUB, ISN'T IT ? ?
Jun 11, 2012
Jun 11, 2012 at 12:00 PM UTC
I'm so glad you never knew me then,
When I wrote out my pain
With more than my pen.
Bravado and brandy,
Always going dancing.
It was fun until it wasn't.
I was fun until I wasn't.
I was young until I wasn't.
I'm trying to de-age,
Find some youth,
Grasp some juvenile joviality,
Iron out the wrinkles despair and desperation
Have etched into my face.
I wonder if I met you then,
Would we have ended in the same place?
I was sprinting in a marathon of my own design.
I know you could have kept pace
But would we have had the time?
You say you would have died
And that means I'm meant for you.
But are you sure that loving me,
Even in the Now,
Isn't killing you too?
Jan 8, 2022
Jan 8, 2022 at 4:19 PM UTC
*canst poor smile
amid world in bad-shod fit
writ's a-fire
pardon season's ire*
bring'st forth jollity and smiles aplenty
ne'er plaintive be of the sad woe of man
lift high-sky the bless'd, one and seventy
mind scant the fo'c's'tle head in deadpan
floweth into desires flowers of merriment
push upon life gladness; poem of joy-bright
exult all forms of joviality and rejoice on
cheery-heart to amuse and glide to skylight
be curs'd with melancholia; fry all the frowns
ring in goodly-humour and make-it-all-bright
drown dips of despair and banish the downs
expel the heartbroken-ideals; deport skint-lite
what befits the real-feel to true equal-match
face with beck-n-call smile belies wake-latch
(fake)
S T - 29 sept
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 2:56 AM UTC
Maine ***** are extremely kind
intelligent telepathic lazy beasts
wisely equipped for joviality.
^.^
Jun 20, 2015
Jun 20, 2015 at 7:22 AM UTC
…i have learned my lesson / One should not give the impression / of being too happy / as you don’t do
happy / you and angry / are comfortable / misery / your longtime friend / but with happy / you are
unacquainted / and / too much joviality / for too long a period / puts the proverbial underpants in a bunch /
too much free-range fondling / and unnecessary emotion / is a commotion / that puts the Neanderthal in
you / into uncharted territory / off the clear and obvious path / with a virtual stick / banging the bushes of
my spirit / waiting to see what emerges / and surprisingly / you are surprised / that what emerges is /
seldom what you expect / but what do you expect? / That i will continually ride this / histrionic
rollercoaster? / apprehensively peaking hills? / uncertainly braving valleys? / stop the maniacal ups and
downs i think i want to get off / on you / and with you / but that just wont do / cuz you / fail to realize /
that I am / percolating and oozing / straight inundated with / sweetness / and to get the full overflow / of
said sweetness / is a privilege… / and not a right… / therefore / to the benefit of no one / and as a
consequence of your / vacillation and inconstancy / i have made the determination / to Cap this most
fundamental Well / sadly / i have learned my lesson…
Jan 29, 2012
Jan 29, 2012 at 7:21 AM UTC
get up early & open the windows to get that
fresh balcony air from the slow-waking city
whisky claws still in my scalp;
smell of last night's stale smoke inside from the girl sleepin' upstairs
and her after-glow cigarettes down on the couch.
nothin' quite like cooking up
some eggs in a greasy skillet,
-- big hot mug of stiff coffee.
(the way it sits like oil in the stomach)
slouched at the table by the window
in longjohns and
an old familiar shirt (no sleeves/girl playin' baseball)
might go smoke in the rain, talk to the neighbour who
feeds the pigeons ...
then pad upstairs and wake up miss new *****
for a little joviality.
Sep 21, 2011
Sep 21, 2011 at 9:16 PM UTC
I
We visited that abandoned house.
We shouted our names for nothing.
We ran through streets before nightfall.
We hoped not to become that being.
Yes, ephemeral was our childhood
therefore I tell it with such elegance.
No, it wasn't a wastage
neitheir became an addiction.
Many envied our joviality
as well as our age.
Many planned our future;
always good and bad, never pure.
II
They disappeared with his yearnings.
They kidnapped her dreams.
They burned my memories with a candle.
They marked out our soft skin.
In all those years,
I never imagined which getting old
was a problem to solve.
And, looking back, I see us as insane.
Well, we are grown up now
and childhood must become forgettable.
However, it will never be possible...
Remembering all won't be a delay.
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 10:20 AM UTC
i beg as if in need.
an infatuation,
a connection,
between today and me.
holding out my hand,
i see not mine,
but the person
"yesterday and tomorrow".
the pillowman screams
messing and mixing
with who i ought to be-
tonight is no different.
i walk in circles,
in melancholy,
and fraud joviality,
never to be anything.
-eozyoh. 14.03.17
Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 9:48 AM UTC
Since the very beginning of joining the *ELEPHANTS TUSK CLUB". He wondered whether others might make fun of him, and sure enough, every time he put on his Hide Coat and his Tusk crown, joviality seemed to pour out from the walls. "HARTY-HAR,,,HARTY-HAR, laughter and mirth he heard from near and far. But, that didn't deter him from his Delight in being a Member in the ELEPHANT -TUSK club. Just about everybody desired the benefits the Club membership provided. Here listed are some most asked about: TWO years Free cleaning for your Hide coat, Two years free shining of your Tusk crown, Two years of *Bellowing training at the unheard Price of only 10.00 per class, based on attending 9 classes a month, instead of the standard price of 25.00 per Class of *Bellowing training, Two years of Free Circus tickets, for those events not occurring in your home town, Two years of Hauling feed and hay training for the low,,low price of 25.00 per class, for 4 classes, *YOU would not believe the waiting list for Membership in the *ELEPHANT TUSK CLUB ! ! Filled with folks from "ALL" walks of life. "SIGN UP NOW" and receive THREE (3) grades of memory chips,,#1= everything for last 40 years, #2= the last 20 years, #3=- last 10 years ! AND, that means memories of everything, FULL descriptions played over and over until you "Click-Off". ALSO,,includes Memory of Elephant, Trainer, Tusk Remover. Each time you click on- the memories will be played over and OVER AND OVER ! ! The fee "AT MANAGEMENTS- IS ONLY 5.00each replay. " W O W " ,,,,Y O U, yes YOU, will Not forget anything ! THAT IS WHY YOU WANTED TO JOIN THE CLUB, ISN'T IT ? ?
Jun 11, 2012
Jun 11, 2012 at 12:00 PM UTC
Elegantly poised in a sea of tranquil turmoil
lifted by gifted hands attached to fragile arms
a Car bomb based in a flesh vase.
Held still by Chlorine Floral Car bonds.
Breathe it in and exhale again and again
a Ban don waist recycled idioms waste
Follow the leader and fall behind clouds
Joviality in small doses, sheep clothing
Aubade in haste sonar demilune about face.
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 2:06 PM UTC
gaiety and happiness
reside in the bush this day
the birds are singing
in a bright and joyful way
their songs so up lift
and do inspire thee
with an enormous amount
of bubbly glee
their tuneful melodies
can be heard everywhere
they are filling the bush land acres
with such sweet fair
thy heart feels so elated
and replete with joviality
thanks to the birds
singing their songs of felicity
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 6:43 PM UTC
If Santa saw us now,
His copious joy might melt
And stain his white palace black.
Oh, if the jolly fat man saw us now,
Our black bells ringing scarlet,
The white snow-globe flakes flowing ******
And the consumerist *******
Selling love for slick green and silver;
Oh, if he saw these rabid dogs,
Chewing flesh and spitting bone
for an iPhone,
His joy would end right there.
If Santa came down off his throne,
And saw our minty venom saturating sacks
Staining toys meant for joy,
His steel boots rusty from snow;
Oh, with this glance he takes upon us,
Witnessing a competition of hate,
He’d scribble his two lists black,
And his red joviality would pierce homes,
With death,
And holiday.
Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 5:10 PM UTC
How is it that I long,
No, yearn,
For a place I've never been,
Never seen,
Never touched
My toes to its land?
How is it that I pine,
No, crave,
For a home I've never lived in,
Never sat down in,
Never woke up
From peaceful slumber in?
How is it that possible?
To be so full of feeling
For that which I have only ever imagined:
Home where tranquility prevails;
Home where joviality reigns;
Home where love utter saturates.
Home where
My hands know their crafting dexterity,
My feet know their dancing steps.
Home where my heart beats.
How is this feeling more real
Than that which I have lived through?
For it is;
This longing tells me it is;
This yearning proves to me it is;
This craving solidifies its existence.
I want the intangible to become tangible.
I need the imaginary to be reality.
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 2:19 PM UTC
She kept laughing
even though it wasn’t funny,
shrinking in the presence
of two men sent to interrogate her
about her purity,
the red brand hidden under her tongue
that she tried to hide under nervous giggles,
tried to mask with inappropriate joviality.
She tried to desperately communicate what had made her
choose the wrong side of the road
between laughter and sobbing.
She tried
and failed
to make them understand
what had made them think of her as a hysterical and trivial woman,
the stereotypical horrible driver,
unable to stay in her emotional lane.
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 11:13 AM UTC
Everyone has unhappiness
A paroxysm of distress
Humans want to cover their unhappiness
Beyond joviality
Beyond laughter
Beyond music
Behind the roistering jubilation
We suppress our sadness
Underneath our liveliness we're stoic
Our hearts don't love sadnesses
We try to laugh now and again
We ought to laugh for living
We ought to live for laughing
Jul 23, 2021
Jul 23, 2021 at 7:38 AM UTC
I saw the other side of you today
The flip side to your coin
Beneath the sparkle of joviality and passion
When we strip away the gloss of illicit corners and barely touching hands
Rinsing away the heady throws of passion and your alcoholic aftertaste
I saw your rage
The underbelly
There was no beauty in your hurricane
Only fear and anger
The constellations I once saw in your eyes turning to pitch
Maybe they were just reflections of my own
I saw you change.
I don't think I know you anymore
I'm not sure I ever did
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 4:48 AM UTC
Always. Anytime anyone asks about always, but before brutish chance can coerce, clashing choices decide destiny. Everyone except the exceptional few feel flustered, frustrated, foolish, faint, and frankly, ****** God gives graciously, gestures gestating generosity. However, he has his intricate intelligence of intimate ideas and ideologies. In jest, jubilee, and joviality, a juncture. A joust for the jugular. Keen and kindling, kindred killing, keelhauling laughter and loitering love, mankind makes mistakes. Many mistakes. Mortality is... notorious. Openly obstinate, obfuscating perpetual pain with quick, quiet quarks of rotating rationale and regular, radical, senseless self sacrifice and sacrilege; Stop. Time turns tumultuously, ticking towards tomorrow. This thing, these things, take time. Understand. Ultimately, unhappiness vexes vivaciously. Without withdrawal, where would we wander? I wonder. Yearning for yore, zealots. Zephyrs on the wind.
Aug 5, 2016
Aug 5, 2016 at 2:50 PM UTC
I recognize
the place
that place
inside
loathsome
& suffocating
I see the lost
look in your eyes
watery red glassy
I watch the feigned
joviality and sense
the aching loneliness
it tries to disguise... I
know the self-hatred
brings a death sentence
lingering tortuous death
with conviction that it is
all that is deserved...you
place yourself on death
row and wait inside
the bottle
...
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 11:57 AM UTC