"laughin" poems
I been scarred and battered.
My hopes the wind done scattered.
Snow has friz me,
Sun has baked me,
Looks like between 'em they done
Tried to make me
Stop laughin', stop lovin', stop livin'--
But I don't care!
I'm still here!
115.5k
Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.
Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
In the jingle-jangle morning I'll come followin' you.
Though I know that evenin's empire has returned into sand,
Vanished from my hand,
Left me blindly here to stand but still not sleeping.
My weariness amazes me, I'm branded on my feet,
I have no one to meet
And the ancient empty street's too dead for dreaming.
Hey, Mr.Tambourine Man, etc.
Take me on a trip upon your magic swirlin' ship,
My senses have been stripped, my hands can't feel to grip,
My toes too numb to step, wait only for my boot heels
To be wanderin'.
I'm ready to go anywhere, I'm ready for to fade
Into my own parade, cast your dancing spell my way,
I promise to go under it.
Hey, Mr.Tambourine Man, etc.
Though you might hear laughin', spinnin', swingin' madly across the sun,
It's not aimed at anyone, it's just escapin' on the run
And but for the sky there are no fences facin'.
And if you hear vague traces of skippin' reels of rhyme
To your tambourine in time, it's just a ragged clown behind
I wouldn't pay it any mind, it's just a shadow you're
Seeing' that he's chasing
Hey, Mr.Tambourine Man, etc.
12.1k
the long day
has given itself into evening
she and i lay in eachother's arms
beneath the traces of stars
watching the lights of passing ships in the sea
listen to the waves rock our skiff
taste the salt air in our every sense
and slowly the rest of the worlds fades from view
to just us
as our soft talking drifts through the hours
she caresses my arm and laughs
i breath her hair and all the scents of her womanhood
and i feel like i could break with all the love i feel inside of me for her
like a window to all the hopes and dreams i ever had
telescopes into one moment
any moment she and her hippie girlfriends are gonna
roll in with sandwich's and green tea
for the hungry masses
and smiling they will pass the time talking
and laughin with young voices
and my neighbor catches them in watercolor
a bright flowing device and masterpiece
his old fingers dart over the canvas
and you can feel the sunlight in his images
you can hear the sweet laughter
we wander long the back street
with the open air market
they are callin out in happy voices
in the strong trade winds
and don't cha know that its so easy to forget all your troubles
and leave the whole world behind
here in the ocean breeze
here under a tropical moon
they all end up sleeping in a pile on the bed
i slept there too
one hippie chick is living on a carnival ride with lifetime
supply of cotton candy
a couple of hippie chicks
is nothing short of
well....everything you could have ever wanted
rolled up on your bed a tangle of dreadlocks arms and legs
Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 4:41 PM UTC
AYE,
I’m about to take ya back in time
A heartless little boy with a beautiful mind
A diamond in the rough, society been trying to find
Gives his mama a hard time but she the reason why he grind
Never worries about stress…PSH, sorry for lying
A place in action, they all constantly ask him, “Why you write with so much vigor? So much passion?”
Try to unmask him, but he locked like Rikers
He’s not selfish with his thoughts
He’s just a silent writer.
Who puts his words on the line, but writes like he’s fine…
If simplicity is a crime
Put him down for a lifetime
Talking sunsets, no regrets, kinda mindset
Can look at a beautiful woman and not only think *** weight on his shoulders but heart beat works the pecks
Yearning for future earnings
Drive to be New York Cities next
Even at best, puts everything into one quest…gives everything his all and not an EFFORT…less (haha)
He’s use to the people just sleeping on him. DEAR GOD! The lord just beating on him
Cause he aint went to church in…lord who knows?
He just sips for the highs and makes music on the low,
Red light, Green light, Dougie, it’s time to go!
Ya seconds to fame started about an hour ago
You need to cut the bad habits if you want ya flower to grow,
Stay humble in your journey, that’s good for your soul,
Ya never too old to make a new goal, just remember life if a highway and we all gotta pay the toll.
Spreading love with each verse, even if haters start to curse
Cause they best efforts can’t compete with you at your worst,
No reason for bragging, in they face laughin…use they words as motivation, hard work is everlasting (echo out)
LEAVE THE WHOLE WORLD, "WHEN'S HE COMING BACK?" THEY KEEP ASKING! (EXPLOSION EXIT)
-Dougie Simps #LostLoveWriter
Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 2:58 PM UTC
The Holy Family?
In a box
with the angels upstairs
Shepherds?
In search of their sheep
lost in newspaper
Somehow I sit on a bag...
of glass Christmas *****
“Must get my vacuum!”
That dead animal, coated by dust
and buried in laundry--
has tangled itself in its own cord
and tumbled headlong to the basement
Crooked photos of daughters
watch me...
smiling (Can it be?)
from a hundred miles and years away?
Waiting for me to make
that miracle again--
What moms do at Christmas
Phone rings
“Jing-a-ling, are ya listening?”
It's the bill collector's recorded
“This is inexcusable!” message
Charities are legion
I say, “There is a line”
Later--
seen only by the peaceful stars...
the donkey of Bethlehem
stumbles in-- laden with groceries
dumping them on the bed/couch
...and back outside for the next load
...and back to the bed again
Why bother making it?
Not as if the cat cares
He likes his blankets niched and lumpy
Not as if some modern home magazine's
planning a photo-shoot!
The mailbox, meanwhile
is preggers with glossy catalogues
...and bills...and
“Wouldn't your whole family enjoy a sunroom?”
Dropping the bags
searching for a light
turning up the heat--
gas bill
sewer bill
“Tis the season for a new Toyota!”
I try to understand the point
of a Christmas card with printed signature
Can I stuff myself in with the recycling?
Then, back outside for the single-woman drama
“Hauling in the Tree”
Storm door catches the hem of my coat
Pine needles, leaves, snow and mud
mark the end of the trail
On my belly twisting screws
“Son-of-a-bitchin tree stand!”
Knocking my daughter's picture off the wall
“Serves 'er right fer laughin!”
**** thing's crooked and dripping
with melted snow
It's 8:30 PM
The cat is hungry and crying
I hit the bottom-- and the button
for the background of a human voice
Three naked chickens are waiting on the counter
At some point, I will take off my coat...
Right now--
I drink a beer while standing
To get a better view....
Dec 17, 2016
Dec 17, 2016 at 4:25 PM UTC
mook was a strange old fella
could blown him over with a breeze
thin as a train track rail and just as rusted
he drank hard but his heart was soft
never had nothing but a kind word
always gave a helping hand
mook was down by the old platte river
fishing with an old line
lazing in the hot summer sun
when lucy happened upon him
now lucy was a fast talking girl
loose with her wares and cared not for a single soul
good lord never carved something as cold
as that woman's heart
mook wasn't no rich fella mind ya
but he always managed to keep his pocket full
and lucy laid into that poorboy with a vengeance
laid him low from behind
never saw it comin
lament the poorboy gone to rest
gathered like spoilt wheat before his time
can almost see him with his old
rucksack and a bottle of wine
laughin like the sun
dancing on summer lake
dancing like you was truly free
his was a time of life to see
always put a feast to the table
even if it was pork-n-beans an sour dough
never let a man go hungry at his table
lament the poor boy now he's gone
fool lucy went into town to the ***** house
laid about with cursing and braggarting her dark deed
she laid him down low with her cold hand
shes laid up in the old jail now
theres nothing to be learnt from this sad affair
nothing good ever comes from dark deeds
but at least 'ole son is resting easy now
walking up the river road with his rucksack and bottle of wine
smiling like the sun
and holding love in his heart for everyone
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 5:25 AM UTC
Dog lies baskin'
music blastin'
barbecue cookin'
beer chillin'
friends laughin'
kids playin'
Sitting on my sweet ***
procrastinatin'
no scarf, no coat
no socks, no shoes
These are the cures for the summertime blues.
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 11:55 AM UTC
Just wonderin’… if surrounded… as you are… by the ramblins… of visitors… and the offerins… of hangers-on… and the jokes… of the wanna-be-funny… and the excitement… of your beloved basketball… and the rowdy… of your down-and-dirty football… even tennis… when it’s Venus… and her earthy growls… and ya girl Serena… with her thigh-strainin’ swing… hell… even hockey… if that’s all there is... playin’ in the background… mixin’ just fine… with children laughin'… and he still flirtin’… after all these years… talkin’ a little ***** after all this water… under the bridge… makin’ you smile… coaxin’ you to… hang in there baby… to take… just one more bite… to take… just one more sip… to smile… just one more time… I’m just wonderin’… how are you gonna do… when they put you in that place… for sick people… with no loud children… no beloved husband… no bad jokes… no fried chicken in the air… no sports commentators… no big band drums… no somebody screamin’ TOUCHDOWN… for you to… if only for a few precious minutes… wake up to… how are you gonna do…in all of that silence…?
Jan 20, 2012
Jan 20, 2012 at 4:32 PM UTC
I just hate bein a goomba, if you couldn't tell.
I get stepped on all the time and hit by koopa shells!
Bowser's always yellin at me and telling me to go,
but he can't even stop that Super Mario!
King Koopa's laughin high up in his tower,
as he's pointin down at me.
Here they come with Fire Power!
Super Mario and Luigi!
I could'a been a man eater,
or even a koopa troopa.
Might'a been a bottom sea feeder.
I just hate bein a goomba.
Jun 26, 2021
Jun 26, 2021 at 2:42 PM UTC
brokenhearted
but still you took
this rusty nail you call a heart
and slammed into my head
you said you would be a friend to my darkness
you said you would break bread with my rage
so heart beating faster
sweat breaking on brow
still your silent
still your liars book remains unburnt
still your liars house has life
while the twin razors of your eyes stare at me out
of my history
and out of my pain sweet pain
now when you finally did speak
you poured gasoline on my heads fire
and then you ran laughin
it wont be enough to watch a pack
of wild dogs pick your bones clean
their fur matted with your stain
it wont be enough to burn your house to the ground
i'm gonna break its bones in my teeth
i'm gonna eat your world whole
can you feel my teeth on your mind
i'm eating you alive from the inside of your skull
brokenhearted this rusty nail you call
a heart is covered in my innocent blood
your filthy lies dance laughing in my eye
my ***** burn to see your house destroyed
to see your filthy book burn
this rusty nail you call a heart
i'm gonna drive it like a jackhammer into your love
like gods eyes on the hand on the wicked
i'm gonna eat your world whole
break its bones with my teeth
with my darkness
with my rage
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 1:45 PM UTC
her car was painted neon green
had stickers from places she been
and places she dreamed of
the backseat was a bookshelf
and laundry hamper
James Dean has been sighted back there
on nights when she was running the back roads
at a hundred and cup of coffee in her hand
speed talking over the radio playing too loud
you can hear them laughin miles away
shes got a neon green little car
filled with a world of sunshines
filled with a universe of wonders
and a few McDonalds wrappers
few over due books
and a cat named Steve
been up and down the I-95 corridor
living off the beach Hollywood Florida
chilli cheese dogs and coke
and they share the world with the smiles
she has a little neon green car
you don't need much when you already got everything
Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 8:26 AM UTC
When I look at you I see more than beauty, more than elegance
I look deep into your eyes and picture your right element
You heaven sent,
With all the stress you get,
in ya life though it made you, it should be irrelevant
Cuz as pretty as you are, you don't deserve tears you deserve me tryna pleasure it
“It” as in you, though you are not an object
You are a diamond in the rough, a treasure with no measure, I'm tryna show u your worth and to them haters I object
But when you catch me starring you think I'm nasty
but really I think you a Mona Lisa, a masterpiece
And even if my thoughts are ***** I ain't too proud to beg so I'm asking, please!
Please know ya worth, know what you deserve, know that I know what you are
You’re perfect in every way, in every sense I make a wish cuz I see a shooting star
I see u laughin with me
I see unforgettable memories and me I'm happy to see........
That when I look at you theres a slight chance that you’re happy with me
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 1:11 PM UTC
Well we jumped on the wing
for a good Irish fling
kicked off the week
with a boiler
The banter was high
as we took to the sky
nothing in sight
was a spoiler
And the red eye at night
was a captain’s delight
we spread on the seat
of the liner
Arrived just in time
for a whale of a time
at the Temple Bar
and Diner
Well the Dublin scene
in the Old College Green
was wired and alive
on the corner
Where me and me' mates
paired in at the gates
there were welcoming arms
to us foreigners
And we sang through the night
and grinned in delight
with banjos, pipes
and lasses
Drinking whiskey and beer
in a boatload of cheer
the rooster got lost
in the masses
The **** in the walk
was out on the stalk
a wee little flute
on display
His shoulders were pinned
with a great big grin
they were such
peculiar ways!
Well we found em next day
(in a sauntering way)
*got tossed in
all the commotion*
What happened to you?
said he hadn’t a clue
or any
baldy notion!
Hit the road to Howth
little east, little south
the seaside town
was groovin
Found the Cobblestone Pub
for a jar and a scrub
the seabird sounds
were soothin
Then we jumped a train
in the lashing rain
the Belfast craic
was mighty
Hit the Thirsty Goat
with a parching throat
some Tullamore Dew
for a nighty
In the Crumlin jail
the spirits set sail
the IRA
was gaffin
There was Bobby Sands
in celestial lands
alive and proud
and laughin
The Griffin dance
was the final chance
the evening closed
in nigh
And we made our way
through the Chelsea lanes
to say our
final good bye
~ ~ ~ ~
Singing
Ay, oh…let it all go
safe haven in the wasteland!
Singing
Slainte’…take me away
to the old Irish sounds
of the band!
Sep 23, 2021
Sep 23, 2021 at 11:41 AM UTC
i stepped on toasty autumn leaves
following shadows of honey bees
while test tubes filled up with rain
i counted the miles between us again
you washed your hair in peanut butter blues
licked raspberry jelly off the top of my shoes
laughin your way up until
i drank the breeze through the window sill
i did all i wished with our time
in bed and out of line
our story began in a sunday dream
while i did my laundry
Nov 1, 2010
Nov 1, 2010 at 9:33 PM UTC
The story of you is a picture to my ears
of you being a bit of a pup,
wearing headphones to mass,
driving the same priest mad
who later showed you how to play a bodhran in an empty church.
Imagine the happening of it
of you, standing in an empty field
looking at a well, wondering hard
how the water got to be there
or your eyes circling wider
in memory of seeing
and touching girls yonis for the first time
you'd say “Ah Mam,
I don't want to go to Greaney's for shoes”
was Mr Greaney's dark and cold
with shelves packed thick with damp boxes,
white labels marking styles and sizes,
N for navy, B for brown, brogues, sensible,
that would have all the boys in school laughin at ya,
your ma pressin hard on the toes
to make sure you've a bit of room to grow into?
you talked to me late at night,
of young ones and of passing the seed.
Jan 12, 2011
Jan 12, 2011 at 1:39 PM UTC
I saw a 10 year old,
Walking down the street,
With a handful of bowl
And in another a younger kin.
Chanting "what was our sin?"
I saw a handsome lover,
Beside a lonesome tree
Strangled by the memories
Of his lover who loved somebody else
Trying to stop how does it feel.
Writing up the blues to heal.
I saw an old aged person
Who barely can walk
He was happy, had a family
Not so long ago
Sitting with his basket
upon the sidewalk
With nowhere to go
I hope you think about them
If not me when you say
Life is unfair.
I saw a mother of two,
Sunken beneath a pannier.
Dreary eyes and a crooked leg,
Says the burden of life's heavier.
I saw a husband, a son,
A father of one.
Miles away from home,
Aiming to be suffice,
Guarding the border,
A few laughin' at the sacrifice.
I saw a man in a white coat,
People say he's akin to god.
Broken in tears saying
'There are battles that can't be won
For these hands saved so many
Now loosing a loved one.'
I hope you think about them
If not me when you say
Life is unfair.
I saw the dreamers
Quitting before they die.
Heard them saying that
they gave a million try.
I saw people dying in lone
That were once on the Billboards
At times there's no one to hold
I saw blind men crossing roads.
I saw the animals crying for the lost homes,
People fencing their little domes.
I saw the birds crying for the lost trees,
The poor cries and no one sees.
And yet you say
Life is unfair.
Apr 11, 2020
Apr 11, 2020 at 6:17 PM UTC
There's a spiritual realm and there's this physical plane...
In the the spiritual realm, I'm a super hero, but in the physical- I'm just plain Jane...
In the spiritual realm, I brandish huge, shiny weapons, but in the physical- I'm a homemaker, making sure that my daughter gets her school lessons...
While y'all are tucked in, snug as a bug at night- I'm on another level, fighting for dear life...
I know some of y'all are gigglin and laughin-and that's quite alright...
But you need to be aware, because we super heros...we save lives.
We see, feel, and know things that you don't even know exist
Cause bwai, if you knew what I knew? You would throw a major hissy fit!
By day, I'm Clarketta Kent...
But at night, I kick demonic ***** with an artistic bent.
#TrueStory
#WarriorPrincess
#KiCotheConqueror
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 9:53 PM UTC
you always made me beg for it
thought i was special when made me work for it
but now u spread your legs to the whole world
like them white wiggas and muthafuckin gayfishs
the fake *** muthafuckas hit it and quit it type riddas
buffalo wild wings muthafucka, laughin to the bank
cuz he hit the jackpot and went runnin from u, u *****
muthafuckin bros thought he was
but now i know that faulty is all it was
what the **** were u thinkin
choosin to ***** your friends ova
not thinkin bout nothin but yourself
whos gonna want u in the end
to think that "I"...
used to love you,
used to let u spend
used to hold your filthy hands
now i know it was just pretend
handed u stacks cuz i cared for you
made u dinners every night and i swore to you
that i would love you foreva
and now i'll let u know its my pleasure
to say **** you but now who u gonna run to
cuz in the end its only you
all by yourself...
so cliched but chillin with all your cats
is all that you'll ever have
and when i say cats
i really mean cats...meow *****
see when u called i came runnin
to make sure that you'd be okay
i see now its only a game u play
now that i know what i know
now i know your just another **
so bite your face off and slit your wrists
cuz the game of life is full of twists
u stupid ***** thought u were sav
i tried to give u the world to have
glad im not associated with u anymore
cuz to me now ur just a trifilin *****
Sep 8, 2010
Sep 8, 2010 at 10:16 AM UTC
Dem white egrets
sure are skittish,
dey fly wildly
away.
But nawt
dem blue herons,
dey gawt bigger *****
stay fisin' right dare
along da shoreline.
You should hear
dem gulls
laughin' at
all of dem,
and dat risin' sun.
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 7:21 AM UTC
I'm comin' home Maggie, fightin' no longer!
They're sendin' me home from that hell of a war.
I've given me best, now I'm done with the fightin'.
There's nothin' can take me away anymore.
It seems like forever that I've been a-travelin',
by air and by boat and by train and by car,
Me heart has been achin' to be here beside ye,
to see ye and kiss ye and hold ye once more.
'Twas once we went laughin' and once we went runnin',
up to the high hills, and down to the shore,
oh do ye remember, we used to go dancin'!
Everyone watched as we burned up the floor!
I'm home again, Maggie, home at last, Maggie!
Wi' only a stump where me leg was before,
I'm home again, Maggie, oh my sweet lassie,
Death's all that can take me-- I'll wander no more.
Jan 20, 2011
Jan 20, 2011 at 4:25 PM UTC
outer banks #1
down to the outer banks
where the water
and the dunes
reflect the wild east coast
we had to drive
to where its not commercialized
where the sand is actually
really occupied
ya gotta a dig a hole burn some coal
just to even eat a fish
grab a spear for a crab where the
shallow waters clear
ya gotta go, you gotta roll where
the old wind blow
ya gotta go, you gotta roll where
the old wind blow
watch your back girl
butter flies flyin outta your skirt
fly off the waves like dirt
were hidden out in the sand dune land
protected from patrol
by mountain sand
while the elders passed a joint
laughin, not carin and
so i soak it in
soak soak soak it in
cause you gotta roll, you gotta go
where the old wind blow
crabbin and a surfin
unknown land
im just campin out
and followin my dad
and camper dave
he's my other dad
we got the seafood
the surfers wish they had
so you gotta roll, you gotta go with the flow
where the ocean is remote
dont need no boat
its the best **** feeling
id ever had
cause ran around
the old wind blow
u gotta go where the old wind blow
so you gotta roll, you gotta go where
the old wind blow
you gotta gooo oh
where the old wind blow
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 4:08 PM UTC
The Holy Family?
In a box
with the angels upstairs
Shepherds?
In search of their sheep
lost in newspaper
Somehow I sit on a bag...
of glass Christmas *****
“Must get my vacuum!”
That dead animal, coated by dust
and buried in laundry--
has tangled itself in its own cord
and tumbled headlong to the basement
Crooked photos of daughters
watch me...
smiling (Can it be?)
from a hundred miles and years away?
Waiting for me to make
that miracle again--
What moms do at Christmas
Phone rings
“Jing-a-ling, are ya listening?”
It's the bill collector's recorded
“This is inexcusable!” message
Charities are legion
I say, “There is a line”
Later--
seen only by the peaceful stars...
the donkey of Bethlehem
stumbles in-- laden with groceries
dumping them on the bed/couch
...and back outside for the next load
...and back to the bed again
Why bother making it?
Not as if the cat cares
He likes his blankets niched and lumpy
Not as if some modern home magazine's
planning a photo-shoot!
The mailbox, meanwhile
is preggers with glossy catalogues
...and bills...and
“Wouldn't your whole family enjoy a sunroom?”
Dropping the bags
searching for a light
turning up the heat--
gas bill
sewer bill
“Tis the season for a new Toyota!”
I try to understand the point
of a Christmas card with printed signature
Can I stuff myself in with the recycling?
Then, back outside for the single-woman drama
“Hauling in the Tree”
Storm door catches the hem of my coat
Pine needles, leaves, snow and mud
mark the end of the trail
On my belly twisting screws
“Son-of-a-bitchin tree stand!”
Knocking my daughter's picture off the wall
“Serves 'er right fer laughin!”
**** thing's crooked and dripping
with melted snow
It's 8:30 PM
The cat is hungry and crying
I hit the bottom-- and the button
for the background of a human voice
Three naked chickens are waiting on the counter
At some point, I will take off my coat...
Right now--
I drink a beer while standing
To get a better view....
Dec 19, 2017
Dec 19, 2017 at 12:25 PM UTC
My day is pretty simple
Walk by the beach and whistle.
Read a book and listen to music.
Read some quotes on how to live it.
Lay on the grass and think
Of all that is unreal.
Dancing mice that wink.
And of laughing steel.
My drunken Munchkan friend.
Mumbles stories with a funny end.
Sings of good ol' days
Where the garden had its way.
But this only happened
When I was about ten.
And parents found me laughin'
Thinking of me around the bend.
But those were simple times.
Where I'd **** on limes.
To mess with my mother.
And punch my brother.
Now I work with the same mind.
As the one from a kid.
With color in wine
And grey as a mid.
But as long as I see.
The imaginary bees.
Life would be good.
Life will be good.
Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 8:25 PM UTC