"lois" poems
Like superman to your batman
I actually got power
Power with ink,
Power with flow
Don't even blink
I'll make your mind blow
Like my cape to your batmobile
How does it feel?
Knowing I can fly,
You just spinning your wheels
Throwing around money
While I'm saving the world
Like my Lois Lane to your Robin
I'll actually get the guy
You sitting there cryin
Cause money don't but happiness
Neither does fame
Just writing what I feel
And you'll never be the same
My Clark Kent to your Bruce Wayne
Might as well just give up
Cause you'll never be me
I'm just made of stronger stuff
Its the end of the line
Especially for you
Maybe it's time
To figure out what else you can do...
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 6:46 PM UTC
*I'd love to be your hero
Your knight in shining armor
To take all your pain away*
**I'd love to be your damsel in distress
Your Lois Lane, Daphne Blake
Because you're my Clark Kent, my Fred Jones
You're my everything
And, thanks to you, there is no pain**
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 11:46 AM UTC
dear clark,
rip off your suit and save me already.
i'm lost.
love, lois
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 1:18 PM UTC
but you are my Kryptonite,
and my Lois Lane.
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 10:35 PM UTC
Instead of a red cape is a plain T-shirt and shorts,
Accompanied by a smile that can make a heart fly;
Beneath all this is my superman.
He may not be unbeatable in all sports,
But he doesn't even have to try.
Because no matter what, I'm still his biggest fan.
Laser eyes and X-ray vision,
Or even eyes that could see the future;
These are nothing, compared to his eyes.
Just staring at them gives me satisfaction
Than staring at any other picture.
Because in his eyes, I can see that love lies.
His hands aren't bullet-proof;
They can't stop a crashing plane,
Nor can they bend gold.
But my reasons are way over the roof,
That even through a hurricane,
It's still his hands I want to hold.
Super strength or super speed,
The ability to fly or to travel through time;
All of these, he has none.
But there really is no need;
I'd still write him poems that rhyme
Because his power on me, will never be gone.
So who cares if he really isn't a superhero?
Kryptonian or not,
Still, on Earth he was sent;
Not to be everyone's superman,
But to be my one and only hero.
He's the best weapon I've got.
Lois Lane may have her own Clark Kent,
But I have my own superman.
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 12:17 PM UTC
"Too many things are occurring for even a big heart to hold." - From an essay by W. B. Yeats
Big heart,
wide as a watermelon,
but wise as birth,
there is so much abundance
in the people I have:
Max, Lois, Joe, Louise,
Joan, Marie, Dawn,
Arlene, Father Dunne,
and all in their short lives
give to me repeatedly,
in the way the sea
places its many fingers on the shore,
again and again
and they know me,
they help me unravel,
they listen with ears made of conch shells,
they speak back with the wine of the best region.
They are my staff.
They comfort me.
They hear how
the artery of my soul has been severed
and soul is spurting out upon them,
bleeding on them,
messing up their clothes,
dirtying their shoes.
And God is filling me,
though there are times of doubt
as hollow as the Grand Canyon,
still God is filling me.
He is giving me the thoughts of dogs,
the spider in its intricate web,
the sun
in all its amazement,
and a slain ram
that is the glory,
the mystery of great cost,
and my heart,
which is very big,
I promise it is very large,
a monster of sorts,
takes it all in--
all in comes the fury of love.
5.6k
there nothing left
he says I'm so sorry
as superman eats kryptonite
it burns inside
the pain almost as bad as has been his hole life
but it's familiar
like a face you haven't seen in many years
Lois lane was shot and killed
because superman had loved her dear
and the farm was sold when Jon and Martha ran all out of years
so he sits around and wonders
hanging hollow from his fears
so he looks down at the bottles that have gathered on the floor
and calls up old Lex Luthor in a move to end the war
when he came his nose constrained as the smell of ***** pervaded
supper man gave him a gun
thanked him for the games
he told the tale from his perspective and asked lex to deal the blow
because he new he had worked for it and didn't want to take his goal
so with a bang his life was ended not a word more ever spoke
and to this day the name will still make pore old lex tear up and choke
Dec 31, 2010
Dec 31, 2010 at 3:28 AM UTC
Superman ain't super anymore.
He snorted all the kryptonite
and spilled some on the floor.
His cape is in the lost and found
somewhere on the underground
Superman ain't super anymore.
The Man of Steel's heart, colder now than steel
Lois slapped him on the chops
for trying to cop a feel.
Front page of the Daily Planet
Lois wouldn't let him have it
The Man of Steel's heart colder than before.
The problems of the world knock on the door
Superman has fallen down
he's sleeping in the hall.
Crying between fits of snoozing
wishing he could stop the boozing
The problems of the world knock on the door.
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 6:58 PM UTC
If I were Superman
(which I am)
You would be my Lois Lane
(which you are)
If I would fight bad people
(which I do)
You’d be my reason to succeed
(which you are)
If I could have superpowers
(which I do)
You’d be the one I’d use them for
(which you are)
If I could fly
(which I can)
I’d carry you wherever you wanted to go, at night, under the moon
(which I will)
If I had super-strength
(which I do)
When we **** I’d pick you up because I could
(which I do)
If I had super-sight and could see all
(which I can)
I’d know that you like me
(which you do)
If I had x-ray vision
(which I do)
I’d use it to see right through you
(which I can)
If I had an eidetic memory
(which I do)
I’d remember everything you’ve ever told me
(which I can)
If I were invincible
(which I am)
I’d stay with you forever
(which I will)
If I were to die somehow, someday
(which I will)
You’d be the person I’d want to see last
(which you will be)
Let’s face it dear, this Superman
(which I am)
Will always be here
(period)
May 6, 2012
May 6, 2012 at 9:28 PM UTC
“What if God was a woman?” Asked Lois undeterred.
Well well well, if God was a woman — she continued —
Perhaps agnostics and atheists, wouldn’t say no with our heads
but we'd say yes with our guts.
Perhaps we would approach to her divine ******
to kiss her feet not of bronze, her pelvis not of stone,
her ******* not of marble, her lips not of gold.
If God was a woman, we would embrace her to steal her from her horizon
and you wouldn’t have to swear “till death do us part”
because it would be already inmortal by antonomasia,
and instead of give you AIDS or panic,
contagious her everlasting life would be.
If God was a woman, she wouldn’t lie far away in the kingdom of heavens,
but she’d live in the vestibule of hell waiting for us,
with her arms not closed, her rose not of plastic, her love not of saints.
My God, my God… — if for ever and from ever you were a woman —
how beautiful scandal it would be, what a fortunate, splendid, impossible,
prodigious blasphemy.
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 1:50 PM UTC
And all the fishes in the sea,
They swim around but they don't swim as fast as me
And all the birds that are in the skies,
They swoop and dive but then you've never seen me fly
It's because I'm Superman, It's because I'm Superman
Tell me darling it’s all true, I’ve not flipped tonight
I’d do anything for you, I’d eat kryptonite!
Sometimes I look through walls,
I’ve seen you through your clothes
I’ll catch you if you fall,
I'll fly you round the world
I’m just a man of steel,
Can stop a speeding train
I’ve told you how I feel,
Won’t you be my Lois Lane,
Won’t you be my Lois Lane.
Tell me darling it’s all true, I’ve not flipped tonight
I’d do anything for you, I’d eat kryptonite!
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 6:55 AM UTC
Dear Superman,
I don’t think you remember me,
The other day you saved me and my mom
From a burning building, we were on the top floor
I was the one that said you were the coolest
You didn’t happen to see my dog Max did you?
We can’t find him but I’m sure he’s fine
Everybody is fine
I was wondering though,
How much can you lift? I mean how strong are you?
A car? A plane? A building? An island?
How long can you hold my dreams on your shoulders?
Can you put Atlas to shame?
I heard you could take a broken heart, and force it together?
Is it true you’re in love with Lois Lane?
What do you do when she wants you to leave her alone,
And you can still see and hear her?
Can only kryptonite pierce your heart?
Or are words sharper? Can Lois break you?
With her heart and Luthor’s mind, what chance do you have?
Those are two muscles you can’t flex
You are after all just a man, an orphan like me.
Cause mom hasn’t come home.
There was too much smoke.
Do you forget about things like food and air?
I’ve seen you fly in space where the oxygen is scarce
I guess you don’t need what we need.
How do you fly? I never see you flap your arms.
Does gravity affect you? Or is there no attraction
Between you and the things around?
Who do you know that can see you without your mask?
Does anybody get to see you naked?
Without your walls and impenetrable skin.
Cause it’s not fair that you get to see us, hear us
And you won’t stop pretending,
Playing with us.
Does a man of steel believe in God?
Surely you could find him out there, you could
Challenge him to an arm wrestling match.
What happens if you win?
Do you believe in heaven?
Or do you even have to believe? If you can look
Through the earth, hear across the universe.
Do you get to visit and talk to the dead?
Have you talked to your parents, caught up?
Can you find my mom?
Why do you hide in a fortress?
What are you protecting yourself from?
From the people you save?
Or from the people you didn’t?
Because perhaps if solitude was your goal,
You should try staying home.
I would like that.
Mar 15, 2011
Mar 15, 2011 at 7:21 PM UTC
I’ve never been good
At hiding emotions I feel.
I’m not Superman
And Superman isn’t real!
I’m not Superman
And you’re not Lois Lane
We’re not invulnerable
And insensitive to pain.
I can’t read minds
Or see through walls.
And I really can’t fly,
I’m not super at all.
I’ve never been good
At hiding emotions I feel.
I’m not Superman
And Superman isn’t real!
When looking for flattery
It does no good to fish.
I’m not a bottle genie
That grants every wish.
I do the best I can
To give you want you ask
But if I fail, it might not be
A very reasonable task.
I’ve never been good
At hiding emotions I feel.
I’m not Superman
And Superman isn’t real!
So names will not hurt me
But sticks and stones will.
Maybe I’m not the guy
That perfectly fits the bill.
Maybe I should let you
Permit yourself to go free
And the same time you
Would then release me
I’ve never been good
At hiding emotions I feel.
I’m not Superman
And Superman isn’t real!
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 11:22 PM UTC
II.
Oh ! vers ces vétérans quand notre esprit s'élève,
Nous voyons leur front luire et resplendir leur glaive,
Fertile en grands travaux.
C'étaient là les anciens. Mais ce temps les efface !
France, dans ton histoire ils tiennent trop de place.
France, gloire aux nouveaux !
Oui, gloire à ceux d'hier ! ils se mettent cent mille,
Sabres nus, vingt contre un, sans crainte, et par la ville
S'en vont, tambours battants.
À mitraille ! leur feu brille, l'obusier tonne,
Victoire ! ils ont tué, carrefour Tiquetonne,
Un enfant de sept ans !
Ceux-ci sont des héros qui n'ont pas peur des femmes
Ils tirent sans pâlir, gloire à ces grandes âmes !
Sur les passants tremblants.
On voit, quand dans Paris leur troupe se promène,
Aux fers de leurs chevaux de la cervelle humaine
Avec des cheveux blancs !
Ils montent à l'assaut des lois ; sur la patrie
Ils s'élancent ; chevaux, fantassins, batterie,
Bataillon, escadron,
Gorgés, payés, repus, joyeux, fous de colère,
Sonnant la charge, avec Maupas pour vexillaire
Et Veuillot pour clairon.
Tout, le fer et le plomb, manque à nos bras farouches,
Le peuple est sans fusils, le peuple est sans cartouches,
Braves ! c'est le moment !
Avec quelques tribuns la loi demeure seule.
Derrière vos canons chargés jusqu'à la gueule
Risquez-vous hardiment !
Ô soldats de décembre ! ô soldats d'embuscades
Contre votre pays ! honte à vos cavalcades
Dans Paris consterné !
Vos pères, je l'ai dit, brillaient comme le phare ;
Ils bravaient, en chantant une haute fanfare,
La mort, spectre étonné ;
Vos pères combattaient les plus fières armées,
Le prussien blond, le russe aux foudres enflammées,
Le catalan bruni,
Vous, vous tuez des gens de bourse et de négoce.
Vos pères, ces géants, avaient pris Saragosse,
Vous prenez Tortoni !
Histoire, qu'en dis-tu ? les vieux dans les batailles
Couraient sur les canons vomissant les mitrailles ;
Ceux-ci vont, sans trembler,
Foulant aux pieds vieillards sanglants, femmes mourantes
Droit au crime. Ce sont deux façons différentes
De ne pas reculer.
Jersey, du 7 au 13 janvier 1853.
2.2k
I am the vessel of my ship,
I am to wrestle a little twit.
Will you help me find my virginity?
I think I've lost it somewhere,
Or someone borrowed it.
I am a farmer of black beans,
I am the Tarmac at the airport,
Will you join me for coffee?
I think I'm seeding the soil,
I found purchase in this toil.
I hate traffic and sputnik,
I love triptychs and music,
Is it you, me and everyone we know?
I guess we can play monopoly,
Just lay down your weapons, I'm fun you see.
Of course you can trust me,
I'm not a wet black bean,
Can I sing the national anthem?
I speak ****** and some other lingo,
I read French and women undress.
On second thought I'll be a stallion,
And yes I'm part French-Italian.
How far does it go?
I'll tell you what, do you know the muffin man?
The one that lives on Drury Lane?
If you do open up, let Thomas the train do his run.
A hippopotamus would laugh at this,
These lines said with such a clever lisp.
It'd have to be high as a koala bear,
Eating eucalyptus leafs at the fair.
I couldn't be more assured of this,
I wouldn't be reimbursed to read miss.
Doesn't it hurt? Aren't you choking yourself?
No me feel no pain,
Cookies are like nova cane.
Last but not least,
It feels better than summer heat,
The question everyone is a critic for,
Are you happy?
If Lois Lane was a *****
Cookie Monster a compulsive eater.
Then of course I'm sure.
May 20, 2011
May 20, 2011 at 8:53 PM UTC
I watch too close, I see you stumble,
I wish there were something I could do.
You focus so much on helping everyone else,
I'm just wondering who's going to save you?
When tears flow down my face,
Your words wash them away.
I want to fix these hard times, and I try,
But I fear I make it worse with every word I say.
I wonder if I'm too self-centered to see,
should I try to cheer you up or just let you be?
even this poem that should be about you
Ended up filled with my insecurities.
You save the world,
You save myself from me,
You're superman,
I'm worse than nobody.
Apr 13, 2011
Apr 13, 2011 at 9:41 AM UTC
Most men would love a virtuous woman like Lois Lane.
Then many would love a Selena Kyle type.
Many women would love for their man to be a Superman.
Then some loves the mysterious type like the Batman.
You know, what you want?
You know, what you like?
Many men wants a model style tight.
Many women wants a physical built type.
Many men wants a woman to show off.
Many women wants the same in a man.
Then many will accept love in the place of them.
We know, what we want?
We know, what we like?
We can deny it.
Except, our words and action shows.
Many men would love to be Hugh Hefner.
Surrounded by women in their own mansion.
Many women would love to be Marilyn Monroe.
A *** symbol of many men dreams.
Even if she once was called Norma Jean.
Fantasies and dreams that moves within us.
Even if it's during the making of love.
We know, what we do?
And, who we want to do it too?
Fantasies and dreams, within our minds.
Keeping us smiling.
Until we wake up.
Mar 4, 2013
Mar 4, 2013 at 9:31 AM UTC
it is said with a full heart,
mom
mama
my m o m
ma
i tried to make you something
but i cannot.
because you made me.
and the weight of that
b
r
e a
k
s
my art.
you carried me
you see me
you hear me
you carry me still
in my darkest hour
you are there
in my fear
in my terror
you are there
and i know
you know
i know
you see
and i know
that nothing gets past your eyes
or your heart
mom
i know
the burden of love
beautiful and terrible
[lois and levance]
forever just below the surface
your guiding lights
i know
the stabs of terror and regret
reflected and seen
in your beautiful brown eyes
for us
for yourself
my mama
i would weather the storms
for you if i could
i would carry your weight
and breathe life for you
all these things you do for me
my guiding light
my way home.
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 9:13 PM UTC
Blank man......
Mind full of emptiness..
Aqua man..
Mind full of water...
Bat man...
Mind full of wealth...
Super man
Mind full of Lois Lane...
Speeding stoping amtrak trains...
And she still on his brain
Do you want that love
do you desire that love
Well my name is Clark Kent
And I can acquire that Love
Super human love
Kind that God sent
and save you from it all.
You just be yourself
Dont ever have to change
And I'll provide you wealth
For nothings out of range
All the creatures in the sea
Will envy you and me
Cuz they will never have
this love that makes us glad
This super human love
speeding train feeling
Polar bear hugs
No baby your not dreaming
As I stated once before
My name is Quentin Briscoe
And Im your superman
Your one and only hero....
Apr 10, 2012
Apr 10, 2012 at 9:07 AM UTC
When my Mother died this summer in June 1991 I felt set adrift in a vast ocean. Things would never be the same again. My mother would not be there to pray for me in the middle of the night. How would I survive this world without her praying? Maybe worst of all, I couldn’t go home again.
The home as I knew it growing up and until that day, had vanished in a moment’s time. The pain of the loss was not real, it seemed like a dream. I did NOT want to finish the last bits of paper work that needed to be done. That would make it all final.
I heard a county western song by Kathy Mattea, “Where’ve You Been” on TV in November. Five months after Mom died that song brought the total grief to bare that I must have suppressed all this time. It brought back memories of Mom saying “Where have you been” when I was over due to return home. She was concerned about my safety. Up until then I had not shed but a few tears. It finally hit. Hard.
Today, Sunday, Jan 12, 1992, I realized that I will be going home again. That the home my mother made for her children on this earth was not the home she had prayed for all these years. The sacrifices she made to raise four kids in adverse circumstances were made with love. They were made with a final destination in mind that few realize. The most important goal in all of life - to give your kids the love and understand of who God is, really is. Jesus went to prepare a place for us – the home coming of eternity. Mom is at home with Jesus and waiting for her children to come home. “Where have you been” may be on her lips again but I rather think it will be “I am so happy you made it home. Welcome home to stay; I want you to meet Jesus”.
Post comment 2010
My mother had the ability/curse of knowing when something was wrong with one of her kids. I remember in 52 when my brother was in Korea. We received a letter from my brother and my mother was happy. Two days later, it looked like a cloud had descended on her and she went around muttering, "something 's wrong with Eddie, " over and over. This went on for three days and then the cloud lifted. Later we found out the POWs working in the kitchen had put poison in the food. My brother was close to death for three days. My brother has the same curse. He is 78 this month.
Today... June 6 2018
Mom is at home with her son Edwin, daughter Lois and son Wayne. I am the only one left to go home.
Jul 6, 2010
Jul 6, 2010 at 6:59 PM UTC
Cent mille hommes, criblés d'obus et de mitraille,
Cent mille hommes, couchés sur un champ de bataille,
Tombés pour leur pays par leur mort agrandi,
Comme on tombe à Fleurus, comme on tombe à Lodi,
Cent mille ardents soldats, héros et non victimes,
Morts dans un tourbillon d'événements sublimes,
D'où prend son vol la fière et blanche liberté,
Sont un malheur moins grand pour la société,
Sont pour l'humanité, qui sur le vrai se fonde,
Une calamité moins haute et moins profonde,
Un coup moins lamentable et moins infortuné
Qu'un innocent, - Un seul innocent condamné, -
Dont le sang, ruisselant sous un infâme glaive,
Fume entre les pavés de la place de Grève,
Qu'un juste assassiné dans la forêt des lois,
Et dont l'âme a le droit d'aller dire à Dieu : Vois !
Le 24 mars 1870.
1.4k
Lois Copeland, a longtime friend
It was her sincerity throughout until her end
I remember meeting her the first time at Medgar Evers College
Ms. Copeland’s distinguished personality is what comes to mine
It was her encouraging words in keeping in thine
We continued as friends even up to her death
A woman of wisdom being in her upper 80’s
Ms. Copeland often stated to me, “Go back to church”
She was my inspiration
A second Mom being the indication
In Lois eyes, life was worth living
Salvation was worth keeping
I often want to cry
But I know she would say, “Don’t weep in a try”
Ms. Copeland is saying, “Sorry I didn’t tell you I am going home”
But her advice to me, “I will never ever be alone”
She will be looking down from Heaven
I have gone back to church in her honor and mine
Lois there will always be a place in my heart
It will be your everlasting wisdom that will give me understanding in thinking smart
God has shared your spirit with me
It will be for the world to see
You have journeyed on
But you want all of us to remain strong
Heaven’s reward
The glorified sword
Sleep for everlasting
Your spirit forever embracing
Lois, Heavens gates await
As I continue to walk, I will not hesitate
Thank you for your spiritual love
I see you flying like God’s chosen Dove.
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 7:29 PM UTC
Who am I?
Am I a bird or a plane?
No.. I'm Superman!
considers gender
Okay, Lois Lane..
Am I a roadblock in your way?
Or a lucky penny in a well
A grain of sand in your shoe
That great story you tell
A song for the broken
Face of innocence,
Head of dreams
Am I young and sweet only seventee-
considers age
Okay, just turned 18^
Am I happy am I sad
Am I the best you everr had
A lyric to sing again and again
When lost in a tunnel,
The light at the end
Am I over confident
Do I believe in the possible
Am i an actress for putting on a show throughout this entire poem
Dramatic maybe?
Yes, dramatic but harmless
An artist I guess.. A star left in darkness?
Am I worthy of romance?
God I need to know..
When you go through life being kissed by beasts and frogs,
You eventually believe you'll never be someone's rose.
Am I wrong Am I right,
Who knows?
& Am I as okay as I say I am?
....* Curtains close *
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 12:12 PM UTC
As the line between our private lives,
& the public eye blurs,
all the old paradigms dissolve,
& nothing becomes as it was before,
only a few months more,
to get this riddle solved,
feeling like The Batman The Joker,
& Lois Lane all rolled in one,
my new name is Nigiri,
on a roll hot like wasabi,
my threads are all designer,
& my hobbies are all hobbies,
I am definitely not sure at all,
well at least definitely not probably,
babbling’ with talking heads,
while jousting with the walking dead,
because we’re up right now up right now,
that's right the life of the party,
& you all probably already know all this,
because the whole time was Live recording,
Instagram Live Streaming all the time,
I'm dreaming at the same time touring,
every moment recorded,
even when it's not at all important,
off script but don't trip,
because we're still part of the program,
so before I even wake up,
you already know the whole thing,
you already know what happened,
the night before the morning,
the Knight Before The Mourning,
sounds a bit prolific & prophetic,
at least a little bit don’t you think,
but what’s it matter the least little bit, if no one takes the time to think,
they’re just getting their nails done,
in the salon in the bottom of the boat,
as it sinks & we just think,
“Well I hope at least the lifeboat floats”,
in a bit of a panic,
like Leo in the Titanic,
searching for my romantic Winslet,
before we both sink in this disaster,
see I see you drowning in this sea,
& I still love you even after everything,
so I swim over & my hand I outreach,
hoping you'll grab hold before you sink,
so I can backstroke with you on my back,
& swim us both to an island beach,
specifically Leo's island,
you know the one Blackadore Caye,
he actually asked me to run the island,
said it was just a bunch of palm trees,
& I know this is reality,
even though it all feels like a dream,
so I close my eyes pray for better times,
then open my eyes to focus & blink,
blink,
blink,
blink,
blink,
the camera is always on,
the recording is always running,
this is layer cake no this is pound cake,
no this is the first ring around the onion,
onions in the sink,
got my eyes running made me think,
turned the water off got a wash cloth,
then took a moment to blink,
blink,
blink,
blink,
blink,
as the line between our private lives,
& the public eye blurs,
all the old paradigms dissolve,
& nothing becomes as it was before,
only a few months more,
to get this riddle solved,
feeling like The Batman The Joker,
& Lois Lane all rolled in one,
∆ LaLux ∆
from The Sydney Sessions
the follow up from multiple # best selling author Aaron Lux
new book available for FREE here: https://www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps
Dec 13, 2017
Dec 13, 2017 at 10:37 PM UTC