"ohs" poems
Like some goofy lisp.
Like left over from Surrey to Essex.
Lycan, Omish, with some Roudy Rawdy Piper.
Like a WWE event, no ropes in the ring and a whole
bunch of cheerios.
It sounded like chweer wee ohs.
I got England to laugh out loud.
We were all laying on the floor hoping
fuhat bassthard would gooh on a diet.
Like Van Gogh and his buddy whats his...
knuck knuck. Painting pictures of Marshall
Islanders for a vote or veto. Paul Goin and Vincent
Van Gogh sharing a lisp.
Sthounds like..... Ah gawd!
Shut up you sobbing limp noodle.
Try writing something we all can laugh at.
Humor me Socrates with Albert Einstein.
E equals MC squared.
One part energy, a mass constantly squared.
Cheerio old chaps.
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 10:45 AM UTC
Exes and Ohs
Litter the page
Sprinkled around in a random matter
Without age
Relative to time
Persecuted for that one word
That one crime
Exes and Ohs
Meaningless apart
Like a left ventricle
Without the right heart
Two halves
Of the same bilateral organism
An awkward moment
Nervous laughs
Eyes forward
Minds in each other's pants
Forget needless pleasantries
Deposit in wilting potted plants
Hugs and kisses
Sincerely yours
Tell me why
It's me you ignore
Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 7:51 PM UTC
When you tell me that your mom's at work,
And invite me over,
I'm not a ******* idiot.
And I may slip into my nice lace ******* maybe even a matching bra.
But I also bring my favorite movie, and a sci-fi story I wrote for AP English that actually got a decent grade, and a package of Thin Mints, because I know they're your favorite.
Just in case this time is different.
Because I fell for you the moment you laughed at my joke about "That's So Raven" and I never stopped loving you even after everything.
I loved you when you asked for my number and when you took me out on that one date,
And I loved you even when the dates turned into "a quick meet-up because I have to be at work in twenty,"
And I loved you when you'd scratch scribbles on my back with your nails, painting your soul into my body,
And your body and mine would intertwine in sweaty messes and whispered *****
And there'd be marks all on my hips and ***
That I'd awkwardly pass off as "I tripped and fell"
When I showed up to swim practice.
I loved you when your fingers were inside of me, creating murmured "ohs,"
And I loved you when you'd tell me "I can't take you home, I'm sorry."
Or the ever-so-present "I just can't commit to a relationship right now," that is branded in my mind white hot.
I love you, even though I know that to you all I am is a girl whose tights you can get on your bedroom floor in under five minutes.
But you told me today that you had a new girlfriend,
Who you like because she's a keeper, a real good girl, who you want to meet your family, and not another girl like me "who's just looking for a ****
I. I just.
I love you.
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 8:30 PM UTC
His voice is like flowers, his voice is like puddle skipping, hand-holding, his voice is almost like Thursdays and his work is to speak the words of men long dead. But I like his words best, I like his stammerings and stutterings and ums and ohs and the slip of vernacular into something more spectacular than the slip of his tongue into my mouth.
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 11:34 PM UTC
Everybody claps out of synch
in the midnight elegance of “Wine Ohs”
but the bass player hums
at the twitch of the sunken keys
that man who leans back crying a New York cry
and sweet daddy saxophone wailing a New York wail
and they all pale and bow with respect
to the young drummer with bright eyes that nobody knows
and nobody knows where he came from or how old
Who’s soul I remember meeting from Easterly winds
only to find himself on stage with strangers
in a plane of rhythm and ruthless time
in a freedom jazz dance
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 2:05 AM UTC
[Intro]
Am I supposed to be here, can you help me?
Do you see something I don't see?
Is it the road, that leads to the end?
Where is the road, that leads to the end?
[Verse 1]
Day in, day out, changeless
Long gone is praise
I've spent too much time waiting
Is it true, failure's really a phase?
Has my time run out?
Is it too late?
I am begging you, tell me.
I'm begging tell, me of my fate ay ay ay.
[Chorus 1]
Is this the road to the end?
I've been searching far and wide.
Where is the road to the end?
Where will I find my pride?
Searched up and down.
Around and round.
Searched here and there.
Please tell me where.
Is this, right here, this,
The road to the end?
Marching 'round the bend.
The end
Marching round the bend
[Verse 2]
I'll get this started.
Now is the time.
I got to do this.
I'll start the climb.
The mountains daunting.
But even so.
She has her feelings.
She has her woes oh oh ohs.
[Chorus 2]
Is this the road to the end?
The journey sure is long.
Is this the road to the end?
Is this where I belong?
Gone up and down.
Around and round.
Gone here and there.
Please tell me where.
Is this, right here, this,
The road to the end?
Myself I can depend
The end
Myself I can depend
[Verse 3]
Purpose, found it.
Hone it.
Faster, quicker.
Own it.
I think I made it.
I have a smile.
And I deserve it.
I've walked the miles iles iles iles.
[Chorus 3]
You need the road to the end?
Is there someway I could help?
Where is the road to the end?
It all starts with yourself.
Just stay right there.
Don't go nowhere.
That's where it starts.
Right in your heart.
That’s where, right there, where,
The road to the end is,
Soon you'll apprehend
The end
Soon you'll apprehend
[Bridge]
You can't have a rainbow without any rain,
But sometimes the storms, they can drive you insane,
Before you give up from the pain and disdain,
It's never too late to hop on the A-train.
[Chorus 4]
Is this the road to the end?
Have I really found my pride?
This is the road to the end.
I'm on a brighter side
Searched the whole globe
Met friends and foes.
Finally made it.
The curtains close.
This, right here, this,
Is the road to the end.
Marching round the bend.
The end.
Myself I can depend.
The end.
Soon you'll apprehend.
The end.
[Outro]
I'm supposed to be here, I can help you,
I see something you'll soon view,
I know the road, that leads to the end.
We'll hit the road, that leads to the end.
Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 5:55 PM UTC
Would you please
Look into my eyes
And entropy you will see
(you, distorting the spectrum of light,
Exploding all there is to me.)
Would you please
Inch your lips to mine,
And there just leave it be.
(just a stroke of lush
To sow the spring of kiss.
Ohs of delightful rush
To a cascading lovers’ bliss)
Would you please
Whisper…whisper
A word of touch.
Whisper…whisper
A love or too much
Whisper…whisper
To catch me breathless
Whisper…whisper
To keep me soulless
Would you please
Move in sync with me,
Let out a gasp of ecstasy,
And taste the thrilling mystery
Of yours and mines rhapsody.
Just a look, just a kiss
Just a touch to give me bliss.
One more stroke, one more wheeze,
One more…would you please.
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 1:49 PM UTC
A question I have to ask
Have I always smiled like this?
I have never felt so comfortable
Just happy to exist
Now you tell me there's a reason
A reason for your frown
Well darling I'd pick up everything
And just get the **** out of this town
Let's just run away
Start brand new
**** all these ********
Baby it's just me and you
But you don't even know me
At least not yet
Smiling with you
Was the least of my regrets
You claim to see my face
But I couldn't place the bet
I've seen so many folks coming in out of my life
But the second I met you was the second I started to fight
For better things
For happier days
For smiling for myself
For being awake
Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 11:21 PM UTC
The edge is what the words meant to our juvenile minds
You came like a milkman of crazy like I paid you a subscription
Because the married voice of our desperation may be rocka fella
Don't mean we are gucci chanel postes of imatation handbags
But I sit at the end of a dinner plate admiring your constant behavior
And wondering how a high school misfit still views a. Past excuse as a comment for hate
Might be strong and smile but worried actions equal a cold shiver
A snuggie is the present warmth left by infomercials
I won't say ur the crest of a ohs blue...
But I still appreciate a *********** like you....
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 6:51 AM UTC
There’s a girl in none of my classes that walks the halls, wishing only that she could be sitting in my desk, reading my words and hearing the words that will get her where she should already be. She’s got such a reputation, that girl. She says things people want to hear without regret. She sleeps with the crowds, and doesn't ramble on. She’s to the point, this girl. She is clean in her sin, and respectable in crime. Sometimes as she passes my door, just for a moment, I see in her a misplaced pride. A smirk that she put there, for people like me. The kind of girl she wants to be.
Aug 6, 2010
Aug 6, 2010 at 2:25 PM UTC
Oh how i wish we were younger
That flowers would never dry out
Staying in love, means to never loose faith
In something you know will end
Oh how i wish you would stay here
That petols would stay on their stems
In the darkest of nights and the coldest of days
I will long for your skin and your bones
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 4:21 PM UTC
Somehow I know you're not worried.
Because I'm busy enough to be filled up to the brim with socialite;
a veritable butterfly of connections.
Like little electric currents that I watch late at night when I asked for rain.
It's delicate though.
I'm watching it run-through
like tape in an old movie house;
Us on the big screen.
(one single tear runs down her face)
'Perfect shot... but this time look into the camera'
I counted the droplets on my windshield last night,
talking about being ethereal,
being someone's 'one'.
Having that simple girl call me a drunk,
watching Independence Day,
thinking about being 'fucked' for life.
Every fifteen minutes I'm wondering if she's okay
and those that don't deserve worry are still calling me to fix them.
I've got the band-aid for everyone else's 'uh-ohs'.
Watching the Olympics,
thinking about death, then you, then death again.
Avenge me darling.
****** up lullabies,
and perfect vision,
cutting ties and *****
Going it alone, without the team atmosphere *****
We're so good at it, it's a shame.
Any week but this one.
But here is the run-through
so it's almost like you're there.
Jan 4, 2011
Jan 4, 2011 at 8:56 AM UTC
I had no intention of causing any more harm than she had done to herself, which became the catalyst for a series of letters. Pages upon pages of observations, one more prominent than the others; You wish you knew me like I wish you knew yourself.
I became under the impression she received the message, neither of us were fit to infatuate with the other. However, she still met me that afternoon in the park. She still approached me in her most vulnerable character.
Hi, i’m J-
I know who you are. I always have. I know you biblically and genetically alike. I know your mother’s maiden name, and the reason for your scar. What I don’t understand is, why me?
Quiet response, scared. Vulnerable. Scarred.
I wish I knew myself like you know me.
Aug 6, 2010
Aug 6, 2010 at 2:40 PM UTC
Standing here in a crowded doorway, waiting for the signal to rush off, be somewhere new and make the choice. Where do I go now? Before my escape, she passes with her sparkling new faces. They smile at her, laugh with her and think she’s just the coolest thing since sliced bread. I watch her travel on, but her smirk is gone. Instead, a perfectly-placed pout over... Who knows? But I can see that this time, it’s real, although she’s even more ashamed of it than the smile she hid before. This pout, she herself doesn’t understand. She thought she was happy.
Aug 6, 2010
Aug 6, 2010 at 2:32 PM UTC
All the people I was ever closest to
turned into ******
Not the attractive, successful, popular type,
but just the opposite.
The desperate, self loathing,
"tell me you love me" type
who can't find anyone to be happy with
because they're just as unhappy with themselves as I am with them.
And they're stitched together, made up of
everyone else's personalities.
So while they go publicly finger each other,
I'll be here, betrayed and bitter.
Feb 9, 2013
Feb 9, 2013 at 4:38 PM UTC
A question I have to ask
Have I always smiled like this?
I have never felt so comfortable
Just happy to exist
Now you tell me there's a reason
A reason for your frown
Well darling I'd pick up everything
And just get the **** out of town
Let's just run away
Start brand new
**** all these Assholees
Baby it's just me and you
But you don't even know me
At least not just yet
Smiling with you
Was the least of my regrets
You claim to see my face
But I couldn't place that bet
I've lost so many friendships
Just trying to be true
Seen so many folks coming in and out of my life
But the second I met you was the second I started to fight
For better things
For happier days
For smiling for myself
For being awake
Can't take this feeling
I am so overwhelmed
Chasing my mind
Trying to keep hold of myself
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 1:53 PM UTC
i just love the monday gray sky, mixing nicotine phlegm cough-up roughage taking part of my larynx and the oesophagus wall off while drinking coffee and melted hazelnut flavoured ice-cream (baileys).
european languages tend to stress an atomised syllables,
therefore encouraging a “cheating” mechanisation of the tongue,
don’t get me wrong, due to the lack of diacritic
in english, we have a wide diversity of accents,
no scot would say a posh yes, but rather say aye
like a pirate to a squire in a top hat...
the asiatic languages tend to twin letters rather than breed them
as unique and segregational, but then come across the problem
of outspoken dyslexia: cat ketchup.
the asiatic countries solved the matter in the rubric:
ni in
hon noh
ar ra
el le
po op
hence so much grammatical schrapnel in european languages,
the prepositions and the conjunctions etc.
it’s no wonder the complexity of compounding H or He or O
within CO2 or H2 or EtOH is necessary as is pictographic
representation in mandarin;
but it does make the european languages very musical,
actually that's what defines european languages
their musicology is due to phonetic approximation
of their characters a - z, alas if that were the sole +
on the matter... it's also a strand of languages
that fakes concerns, lies, and sees a quick gain
crafting a breed of ohs and zeros in the millions
for no apparent reason other than self-promotion,
white snail caviar pearl chandeliers ritzy champagne and yachts;
no wonder we have a second alphabet! i.e.
onomatopoeia /ˌɒnəˌmætəˈpiːə/.
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 8:14 AM UTC
a wisp of smoke curls up--heavenward
until it disintegrates into nothingness
a burnt tip-- alighted by an orange flame
that flickers quick from a cheap Bic lighter
the cigarette dangles tantalizingly
between two fingers-- index and middle
it's a balancing act--
to stay away from the ashes
and to not drop your sustenance
dark red lips slightly parted
nearly purple, but not quite
as if a speeding car halted at an invisible border
the arbitrary line between purple and red
she exhales
the smoke coming out in elongated ohs
once the smoke clears
she is gone
after all,
she was
a hazed out,
high-defying,
hallucinatory,
dream
Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 2:47 AM UTC
I wish you many things;
well isn't one of them.
Feb 28, 2018
Feb 28, 2018 at 11:22 PM UTC
Eight-Forty Five,
sitting in a lawn chair
in the drizzle.
A lot of talk about
cancellation.
Hundreds
of crossed fingers,
the air is thick with mist
and muffled language.
Off goes the first bang,
behind us a kid
shouting out
play by play...
Two barrels,
rapid fire,
on and on.
I watch the spikes,
and hear the
thunder claps.
I imagine
I would see
just what I am
seeing
had I put
my finger in
a light socket.
The thin
spindles of light
reminding me of
road ****
porcupine
for certain.
The night
draws to a close,
people pushing
and shoving
their way back
to their cars.
Labour day,
2014,
not that
we need an excuse
to have some fun.
Any night
of any day
will do just fine,
the ohs and awes
all over...
'till the next time.
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 8:21 AM UTC
Perfection is a horrid word.
It sets almost impossible standards
And causes more broken hearts then exes and ohs.
It causes starving dolls
And robotic children who conform
To the whispers of the notorious mother culture.
Unfortunately, nothing will change
Because most will never learn this
Universal Truth.
Mar 30, 2019
Mar 30, 2019 at 10:09 PM UTC
AGAINST THE WEIGHT OF A FEATHER
9/11
crashes into Maths class.
The boys whoop and jeer
treat it as a video game.
"Ohs" and "Wows!"
as death unfurls.
They laugh with glee.
Yes, this is a video game.
For real.
We watch aghast
at what appear to be
people jumping
rather than...
the unimaginable is
happening.
Fractions and equivalences
are left behind.
What we are seeing does not
add up.
Numbly we
continue on
- the boys still hyper -
Ancient History.
A jackal-headed God
holds the scales
weighing us
against the weight
of a feather.
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 10:36 AM UTC
Poetry-
Doesn't send shivers down my spine,
When I write it,
If only I could ignite it!
Oh, the only art I've got,
And it chokes me so,
Why can't I just let it go?
These words fall on deaf eyes.
Doesn't it crush your spirit?
Or, do people watch you?
Tell me, how I might strum their heartstrings,
And bring these ones and ohs to life.
Jan 3, 2020
Jan 3, 2020 at 9:08 PM UTC
The performers stand with their backs turned,
awaiting to be called.
Each one filling with emotion.
It's their last show,
their last improvisational moment with each other,
before they depart for what is most likely, forever.
They have tears in their eyes,
comedy to cover it up.
The audience is crying too,
repeating "Aws" and "ohs"
and there I am,
crying too.
Half because it's sweet,
and I'll miss their existence,
and half,
because I know that that will never be me.
When I depart,
it will be quietly
and with the usual ****** on my chest.
Who will be there to weep for me?
Who will be there to notice I am gone?
These actors, so glorious,
their absence is impossible to miss
and it makes you feel sad inside...
And I cry,
I cry for them and the others,
and a bit of each tear
is dedicated to the absence
no one will notice
when I depart.
By death,
by choice,
by life,
I'll disappear,
and there'll be no one there
to hug me
and miss me
and laugh to cover their tears.
I'll just go,
on my own,
filled with memories
of the actors who departed
with a family holding hands around them,
hurting from the longing and love.
I'll just go.
and the only tears,
will not be for me.
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 1:10 AM UTC