"lalala" poems
Aku berdosa,
Telingaku bunuh diri.
Sudah baru-baru ini
Aku sepenuhnya tuli
Aku tak tahu lagi
Apa kata dedaunan
Pada tanah yang terantuk lemas dibawah
Atau ceracau yang diteriakkan
Bunga keparat
Untuk mayat dingin si kumbang.
Bahkan di restoran tua
Yang setiap sela kayunya berdarah dingin,
Tempat rintihan musik bisumu selalu dialunayunkan
Semuanya hanya tertawa hening
lalu mati begitu saja.
Dan meskipun duduk menghadapmu
Aku masih tak dapat mendengar
Suara mengaji jam setengah mati
Yang kerap menceritakan
Dongeng gelap kita
Dari lampau sampai me—
La lala la la
lala la lala
La la la la la lala
La la la lalala la la
La
—Lampaui
Pemakaman hati yang mati dipancung
Di pekarangan rumah tiap senja gulana
Yah, baru-baru ini aku tuli
Bisu lagi,
Mampunya cuma mengumpat dalam tulis.
Dan dihadapkan denganmu,
Sesekali dalam terkadang
Aku anehnya dapat mendengar
Serintikan isak tangis yang
Sama sekali tidak kita cucurkan
Lalu ini semua salah siapa,
Kalau aku baru tuli
Lalu kamu sudah bisu?
Apa memang ini dosaku?
Di palangnya tertulis;
Nama: Siapapun yang menangis
Di sela-sela pengakuan dosa
Kematian telinga gila
Dan kelumpuhan bibir hambar
Kita tiba-tiba melongo,
Tuhan tertawa
Sabar lagi bahagia,
Mengisyaratkan untuk
Sudah, ya,
Simpul mati saja senyum satu sama lain.
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 8:46 AM UTC
Sarah
You're smart and funny and kind of really loud
But that doesn't mean I don't want you to talk
And though I do things you don't want me to
You know it's true
I can always call you if I need to
And you know you have me to
Cause I'm pale, pale, pale for you
There's no combination that beats teal and violet
Pale, pale, pale for you
We're Moirails through and through
And you know that I will always be with you
lalala
Don't you know
I see the way you talk about your dad
I didn't know him at all I'm sorry
It's okay He's in a better please and I'll stay
But please don't ever push me away
When everything crumble beneath your hands
I'll be there to be the one who understands
Cause I'm pale, pale, pale for you
There's no combination that beats teal and violet
Pale, pale, pale for you
We're Moirails through and through
And you know that I will always be with you
lala lala lalalalalala lala lalaaaooo
Sign your Kik name with YinYangs
I'll make cat faces too : 3
Put up with my HomeStuck shenanigans
And I'll be there there you
for you
Cause I'm pale, pale, pale for you
There's no combination that beats teal and violet
Pale, pale, pale for you
Pale, pale, pale for you
Cause I'm pale, pale, pale for you
There's no combination that beats teal and violet
Pale, pale, pale for you
We're Moirails through and through
And you know that I will always be with you
lalala lala lala la la la la la
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 5:38 PM UTC
It’s the hollow sound of a toast to fill the silence of unaddressed questions,
the celebratory clanging of glass on glass
ringing from assumptions based on past experiences and theories
from synapses of protagonists or all
that is mystical; a god or a God
for the rhetoric of bad days; the precatory shoulda, woulda, coulda’s
you can count with all digits and the humdrums,
the lalala’s to songs with lines you can never remember.
It is to fill in, with pencil, the
blanks of unclear intentions, capricious endings,
the what comes after the highest number, tentative now, for it is a trick question,
the true stories of Bermuda Triangles and Altantises,
for the ones Amelia kissed goodbye and all that is brief,
promises neither broken nor kept;
some, hypotheses for what happens after waiting.
It is the makeshift certainty ascertained the day he left
all these unfinished, unanswered, incomplete… things. The sure of it
invented by staking everything in a nebulous something,
a nebulous anything that will have to do, like cotton patches
on satin dresses or saints for hopeless causes.
It was the invention to quench the constant
need to know, to fill the in-between start to end
for all that we can not stop. A made-up map by pirates below ten
for every time we must set destinations beyond unchartered unknowns;
a make-believe place holder to hold us to the relief
we get from closure when
the universe gives us none.
It is the lemniscate, the amen,
the St. Jude we assign to our altars
until we find actual satin or the aviatrix herself,
or surrender everything in the spirit of faith
or believe
that not all things unfound are lost.
Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 12:23 PM UTC
Daisy *** patchwork dress, lalala
I baked you cherry pie while you chatted a wizard
hope it kept warm in the oven.
Dear, the contents partner our cheeks
a good-natured face, freckled of breadcrumbs at
each of six circadian meals to come by day.
Everything is rosy in this hobbit hole –
flowers, and mouths, and food laugh all in sync.
I reckon when you digest
we shall scamper off to our twin bed.
Lalala I sing, and lalala you sing, raccoons are so
close above the wooden beams
that I know their supper is dandelion stalks.
Tucked in, this is what is christened a perfect fit
your foot the extent of my head
and kissing at my toes, their lady stubble.
(You, the skilled shoemaker
who will not tolerate me hiding in pelt moccasins)
If the moon arises, we do not see:
lalala, mockingbirds sing the garden to sleep
but the vegetation dances
like a dwarf’s beard, though blonde somehow
saturating ginger for a reading nightlight
bellies full of sweet cakes and dinner number four.
You kiss me our Eskimo way, then as halflings
I whisper about the ariel orchard today
(Rosemary, red-cheeks, lalala) afore first breakfast.
Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 12:44 AM UTC
When I write down your “nanananas” and “lalalas”
I cannot make it sound like a melody:
you have a voice
and I only have fingers that cannot play the harpsichord
feet that stumble over themselves, while yours
stumble over strings and vowels and pretty breaths.
I prayed to God just so he would tell me
how to explain the way you lace symphonies together
white drugs laced with a more dangerous one
you exhale vanilla and formaldehyde
and your hiccups win first prize.
You remind me that we are all healing but we cannot all
throw our bodies in Lynches River
or Lake Pontchartrain
because there are not enough black garbage bags.
You remind me
not to swallow cement
so I get filled up with ***** instead.
I hope that you do not drink too much water
to make room for pink milkshakes and doughnut holes
so honored to be inside you they
reach up and hold your voicebox like a shooting star,
I hope that you are selfish sometimes
like when I read my words just as you would sing them.
May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 3:38 PM UTC
I'm afraid of your consistent apathy
The way your body sits still
and patient through
days of excruciating pain or
the way your hands stay
folded in your lap as your
phone rings in your pocket
I'm afraid of the drugs running
laps in your veins
while your eyes sink into your skull
creating hollow shadows on your face
I'm afraid of losing you
Or refusing to accept that I already have
I'm afraid that if I never had you I'd have nothing to write about
Equally afraid of every crumpled page in this bedroom that has your name etched into its margin
I'm afraid of the catching in my throat at five in the morning
And the cigarette in my hand that makes it happen
I'm afraid of the sizes in my clothes
Or maybe I'm just afraid of how much time I've wasted trying to decrease them
I'm afraid of the silent agony
that is too often conveyed in a stranger's eye
I'm afraid of how flawlessly I've learned to lie
I'm afraid of the people who don't have any of the things that they need
But I'm more afraid of the people who have all of the things that they want
I'm afraid of my best friend
I'm afraid that he doesn't know how to love
And I'm afraid that I don't help him as much as I can
I'm afraid that I'm afraid to change
Cause
One day fades
An other blends in
And lalala this is life
*When will I be afraid enough
To make it end*
Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 1:29 AM UTC
Don't recite to me an other metaphor about your heart beat or a sonnet about my eyes
I'm gonna *****
Miss my mouth again
Like we're kissing for the first time
Fumble in the dark
Like you don't have my skin memorized
I admire you even when you're awkward
And honest and weird
Please tell me when you're scared
I wanna trust you
You can be a perfect poet with a pen
When you're reflecting on this later
But right now, if your words all fade
clumsily into each other, it's okay
Because, my darling angel,
I swear on every vowel of this messy piece
That I love you anyway
Lalala I love you always
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 10:51 PM UTC
November is a month
i dread, all the marking...
all the words ..... ideas
clutter up in my head....
all the hopes and ambitions
weigh heavily on my back.
the first day, my birthday
hip hip hooray!!!
then a rushing, pell mell
downward track
of red pens and meetings
going on and on and on
planning, prepping, late night stressing
then, when not at work,
not shirking, just not working
hoping to give the brain a rest
am bombarded...
like i am ******** in cheer
...continual messages of
christmas is near....
coffee and carols,
shopping and angels
harking, harking,
joy to the world, fa al lalala...
Santa queues
truly not an Ebeneezer
but Christmas teasers
in November make me grey
around the gills
fish out of water
lamb to the slaughter
and running on empty,
always empty,
just want one day...
when the world
would stop hassling
and just go away
no end of year parties...
prentending to be hale and hearty
with all sorts of colleagues
and academic smarties
no presentations of budgets..
thinner than last
no we could not fast
this area, to be on line
no it's alright, it will be just fine
while sculling copious amounts
of cheap, cheap, nasty red wine.
no hangover from said feast...
no, you be the one to corner the beast.
no more standing with mothers and others
watching children in a god awful christmas play
and clapping and chatting while little bettsy
recieves an award for knitting a sleeve
and george gets one for adding fourhundred and forty
please, please show me the door.....
not to mention hayfever,
daylight savings and more
but all this seems trivial...
when I consider
the blight of my life...
in the stakes of annuity.
the month of November has a great heart
Movember...a charity of moustache art
has an fanatic in my big, bluff,bloke
for a month he curries and cares for the
caterpillar that grows on his lip...
a fuzzy flecked monstrosity
with the mange and a weird flip.
November a month of avoiding
the succour of contact....
with that thing,
my toes curl now
thinking of it....
tho I try not to react
(after all charity begins at home)
november november
truly you are the ***
last year he bought
the ****** thing a comb
yet in the end
you are but a month
and it seems I survive you
year after year
thank god for take away meals
and long cold beers....
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 5:32 AM UTC
lalala cockpit's cracked
losing oxygen
I died in LA went straight to hell
put a price on my soul
for a bad man's consumption
trusted no one but it's cheap
gate's closed anyways
who am I to you baby?
don't care if this city sinks in the ocean
going back to Ohio anyways
maybe I'll use the pliers to escape the trunk
bite down, sizzle off the tar like a lost soul
Jan 30, 2023
Jan 30, 2023 at 8:58 PM UTC
I grew up chaotically
in dichotomy, my hands
in between the walls carrying bi-polarities
“cradles! babies that squeal
for fear of strangers,
mothers, where are the mothers,
where is the family, have you disappeared
in McDonalds and KFC’s?”
Flashing Christmas lights throbbing
in my left eye, so colourful I don’t know
directionality, temporality burning me up
losing me up, inside these sights I feel a, a
maze in again, and up again…like
a ****** on a horse-
“there are aliens outside!!”
though, on the other side
just
air
in my right eye. I see air, extending.
all the gentle blue hum of the air.
it goes, breathes, in and out.
Lalala,
mmmmmmmm
It's so satisfying man.
Tell everyone about it.
While everyone sleeps,
I creep into the boardrooms,
where they hold their secret meetings.
There are certain syndicates in charge
of things like this; devising plans,
scratching heads, drawing charts,
painting on brains,
with paint by numbers.
But go on, (shuffle awkwardly),
for i am no emasculated lion
courageous in defeat,
i am merely a rose,
left lying on city streets.
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 5:13 PM UTC
Shh don't breathe
It'll hurt trust me
This ones blue, I like purple too
Oh my dear girl! What have they done to you!?
Just like that, make it feel good
Oh I'm tired, oh this night
So then like, I said, and he said, and she said
Who's ready to party?!
Oh god ****
The sand feels so good
This toe ring fits just like it should
Trippin in the bathroom
Blood stains, ball gowns
Electric neon kitty town
I hate you! I hate you!
Make this stop!
Oh man, oh boy
This **** rocks
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 4:36 AM UTC
i am plugging my ears
i can't listen to you talk anymore
lalala i hum to myself
stop talking
please
i can't handle hearing you say it
again
restoration
isn't gonna happen
daddy stop
mommy's not coming back
lalala
sing me a song
you're the piano man
dad no one is going to help us
it's useless asking, asking, asking
no one will say yes
lalala
plug my ears
i don't want to hear
anymore
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 5:50 PM UTC
Lets not lie then;
you’re out there somewhere having a
fine & dandy time, a fish in shallow waters,
meanwhile I’m a shoe-in
for the biggest *******
this side of town and god and country.
And where the **** are you?
What the **** is your excuse?
I’m homeless without you and
I’m a degenerate when I’m with you,
and I’m ****** enough in this
sleepless state to see it’s not fair.
I can’t ******* swim out here…
You can fuss about me not being
next to you some nights, but
I don’t give a **** about
the *** we’re not having,
the touch you’re demanding,
so just shut down the charade.
And you don’t want to know
what’s ** wrong ** with me.
"I don’t give a **** yeah,
tattoo it on my lips and kiss them
till they bleed. Don’t care.
Maaaaaybe I’m too tired to think clearly,
but **** you right now I see so much
and it’s so petty and privileged and ******
and when you think you see the lines,
you can’t even see the light of day.
I’d know because it’s here right now.
I’d know because I lost the words to say,
but the lyric would be so ******* gritty.
Lalalala, lalalala, lalalala;
The weight is so **** heavy.
Lalalala, lalalala, lalala;
The escape is too passe.
Lalalalalalalala, and where
the **** are you?
Everyone else is drunk and I’m
a hallucinogenic and a landmine.
Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 7:35 AM UTC
The “Fake news!" argument
I’m smelling the “Red Herring” fallacy
Put your fingers in your ears
And shout “LALALA, I can’t hear you!”
Does the falling tree make a sound?
Yes.
Does **** smell?
Yes.
Even from bears, in the woods?
Yes.
And from the Pope?
Maybe;
On a long hike, with no other option available
“Fake news” is a majestic confabulation!
And a mind-numbing conundrum
A Chinese finger-puzzle
Hideously, incredibly strategic; but
Sorry folks:
Not true.
Jan 9, 2019
Jan 9, 2019 at 4:11 PM UTC
this lalala lightly felt
high noon breeze
has my head stuck
in all sorts of texty zoos
legs hips navel
clavicle ridge line
hands behind binary bars shallow
these wet blues i feel
feel real
swimming hues
suggesting so much
i am the fool who'll
follow knotty impressions and
fall for that crevice
just beyond
crenelated hipflesh
where woolly strips the color of sea unders
straps across
and barely covers it
three
light
taps
of the tongue
at the back of
both incisors
is all it takes
and i
lick you
from where you came
to where you went
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 4:57 PM UTC
Life goes la la la...
The dawn seems to break.
The first ray of light which wil hit me,
Will endeavour me to excellence.
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 6:23 AM UTC
HEY BABY COME WITH ME
HEY BABY COME UNTIL I BREATH
I GOT SOMETHING FOR YOU TO SEE
IT IS NO **** INDEED
La La lalala
HEY BABY DON’T BE SCARED
I’LL LOVE THE THING I HAVE
IT’LL BE REALLY SOMETHING NEW
COME AND SEE IT’S TRUE
La La lalala
AND NOW WHEN YOU’VE COME
I GOT TO COME
WITH YOUR LOOK SUSPICIOUS
AND MY SO VISCOUS
La La lalala
IN FACT I SPIT AT YOU
YOU DON’T THING IT’S CRUEL
‘CAUSE YOU GOT WHAT YOU’D WANTED
AND I COULDN’T HOLD IT
La La lalala
PLEASE DON’T CRY
AND COME AGAIN WITH PRIDE
COME AGAIN WITH ME
THERE WON’T BE ANY KILLING
La La lalala
MAYBE
La La lalala
MAY BE
La La lalala
MAY BE
La La lalala
BABY MAYBE
Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 3:32 AM UTC
She loves me when I'm good
she loves me if I'm bad
she makes me happy though sometimes I make her sad
she loves me anyway and everyday's the same
I wake up to the sound of her calling my name.
Love la la la la la la
she loves me if I'm good
Love la la la la la la
she loves me when I'm bad
I love her everyway and everyday's the same
she wakes to hear me calling,
calling out her name
la la la la la la la
la la la la la la
I wanna call her name
la la la la la la
she loves me the just the same,
lalala la la..............
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 11:19 PM UTC
You flake apart
Jump around in the boiling basket
but never out of it
why won't you
just let me live my life
an eternity in a swiveling ballet
cut up sniveling fish fillet
knife tip broke inside of it from the stress
the protoplasmic cowardice, the futile breeding quit
Would you like to wake up
to every battle I have in my **** head?
emotion submits to caviar delivery
tossed foam cups with the soda in it
belly up, split apart
the lives lit, baked-in honor
as if you earned it, like a lalala legendary
a souped down chopped up piece of aquatic livery
on a sanded down wooden board
Sep 18, 2023
Sep 18, 2023 at 7:37 AM UTC
have you nothing?
are you nothing?
are you sickened ?
are you sick and scared?
la
lalalalala
lala
wake up!
feel this!
you fool !
you sad idiot!
wake up!
feel this!
la
lalalalala
lala
you are smiling
laughing
feeling
can't you see
anything?
anything at all?
la
lalalalala
lalala
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 12:20 PM UTC
and that is why
to be fool in love
is okay... I mean...
to smile for littlest reason
and sing lalala
the cheesy lines, PDA's
that's okay
but to fool your love
is never okay,
remember: you aren't a ****
or are you? hmm
May 25, 2019
May 25, 2019 at 12:12 PM UTC
Jingle bells jingle bells
Bring the sound of
Blood thirsty elves
Evil spells sinister santa
Plots to taunt
and scatter witches,
frail and pale
Around the world
To **** and chill
With their haunting melodies
La lalala la- la- la- la
La lalala la- la- la- la
A trail of blood
Red like crimson
Horrors worse
than those of prison
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 5:22 PM UTC
ah ha hari
the clouds always dream
ananananee
the sun always rises in the morning
lola was egypt ray drew was her son
lola say boohoohoo
cry for your suns
(originally we are the stars
pamama
we want the sun forever
her husband lives as tray
in egypt they say
ananananah
the moon always rise
the sky is always perfect
ananeee
the stars always shine at night
anananmee
porta the zulu leader and da except lola
lola say lalala to da
hataab is here the anne christ christ protector
helios is here the sun god
meghansaid
timanee
i am god
meghan said
meghan ssaid
wawawa
people are always kind
but lola is preferred in africa
she ruled their 30 times
meghan only 3
Mar 28, 2020
Mar 28, 2020 at 8:55 AM UTC
Allow me to stutter
B-Because this is something i really can't admit
ExEmption—that is what you are to me
GanGin' up on me like little squirrels
AsphAlt-dragging cuddly bear
InducIng pain and ecstasy
Lalala-Lullaby of nightmare and desire no one should see
It really is something
N-Nah, you really are something
InItially something from my peripheral vision
E-elEvated like a server administrator
GoonG! a golden mic when you didn't auditioned
"OooooOoooh~" cried the wolf in a human form
Feb 26, 2019
Feb 26, 2019 at 1:47 AM UTC
fuzzy fretful fantasy fog
Trespassing into my thoughts so loudly
I can hardly hear you say:
“I don’t love you”
May 12, 2019
May 12, 2019 at 10:22 PM UTC