"oreo" poems
i'm biracial
no i'm not an oreo
no i ain't your zebra
i ain't the best of both your worlds
i ain't mulatto either
i am white
and
i am black
living my life with a sense of inequality
my race always seems to follow me
no matter where i'm at
white people have jokes
black people have questions
my hair appeals to some of you
while the rest of you have suggestions
who said i needed you to tell me who to be?
who said i needed to explain who i really am underneath?
striving to be normal and thriving to be equal
i just so happen to be a white girl
that knows what it's like to be black
and that bothers a lot of people
my race may not define me but it is apart of who i am
so yes i get offended when you refuse to understand
that i am what i am
black and white
white and black
light brown complexion
***** curls front to back
a strong black woman resides inside and it's she you see
a white woman is there but will never be
but i never deny my lines culturally
because they are me
Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 12:56 AM UTC
Dipped in milk
Or eaten plain
Chocolate like silk
Cookies&Cream;
Peanut butter
****** Butter
Oreo's
Who to blame
Sneaking in the night
Only for a bite
Sweet and touchy
Creamy and crunchy
Let the sugar rush come
Oh, now hand me a tum
Upset tummy
My nose is runny
What's this i hear?
I can't take sweets as I please?
Oh, come on...
You can't blame the cookies!
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 3:33 PM UTC
In times gone by, now recondite,
Neanderthal, ***** upright,
spoke softly, tones so lily-white,
and tried to put the world aright.
He taught us how the flame ignites
that wearing furs will warm the nights,
just why the rolling wheel excites,
and how the beveled flint stone bites.
Before the days of dynamite
he fought his foes with spit and spite,
and swung big sticks with all his might,
and rendered death with stones in flight.
Engaged in never-ending fight
(arenas were a global sight)
he forced his forces to unite
to sate his oily appetite.
To quell rude thoughts that may incite
he ruled the realm with fly-by-nights
and culled the winds of words in flight,
and darkened minds to anthracite.
With fairy tales of evil sprites
and how the fist of freedom smites,
he washed the world with flames alight
to vanquish hoards of parasites.
Each dawn the damage brought delight,
the foe was bent, a bit contrite…
yet battled on with no respite
until the dusk and evening light.
Encamped beside the firelight
Neanderthal, that shiny Knight,
awaited morn while sitting tight
assured the end would be alright.
Yes, conquest seemed his sacred right…
Forevermore?… well, no, not quite…
Neanderthal's extinct tonight
and lies beside the Trilobite…
MORAL
The Oreo is round, not bright:
while rolling near the candlelight
at first the searing seemed so slight,
the molten cream an oversight…
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 3:03 PM UTC
Please don’t call me beautiful
when your hands are between my legs,
and god forbid you say it as a seg-way
between you’re so hot
and my caution, your response
you’re sure you don’t want to?
I’m pretty sure the way my body looks,
nineteen and stress-infused with an Oreo belly
isn’t really what you pictured beneath my blouse,
and I’m positive you didn’t listen
to the story about my dad and the bad prom dress
because you cared. It was just sentiment. You said it was beautiful,
but really you wanted me to believe the act
like a description in the Playbill
and ride that trust all the way until the curtain dropped.
Please don’t call me beautiful
when the word ******* is before it
or if we are ******* because making love
is for married couples and you don’t even want me
sticking around for the ****** sunrise that peers
underneath your shade every morning.
Tell me I’m beautiful when I’m crying—
crack me open and watch the colors bleed
like a painting that hasn’t dried. Admire
the light that peaks through the clear parts
like a windowpane, no blinds.
Tell me I’m beautiful when I’m laughing,
when I’m reading my favorite part of a book,
when I’m stuffing my face with peanut-butter
pretzel bites and I haven’t washed my sheets in weeks,
and I’ll know you can’t be lying
because I’ve listened to the waves your heart makes
when you’re sleeping and I’ve called your smile
to the surface many times when you’ve tried
to deflect it back inside. You’ll know that
and you’ll know I’m beautiful.
Call me beautiful
when you’re not even trying.
Call me beautiful when you’re by yourself
and the smell of my hair is still on your pillow,
or the memory of how dumb I sounded
singing my favorite song breaks your heart back
to the best little pieces.
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 8:54 PM UTC
the other day i sat alone having lunch in a McDonalds.
i found the Big Mac enjoyable and the wedge fries good enough
but what i truly loved was the cold-ass Oreo McFlurry.
actually, that's a half-lie because the cold-ass Oreo McFlurry
wasn't the only thing i truly loved from that McDonalds lunch.
when i was McSpooning the creamy goodness using my left hand,
the hand that should be reserved for ice cream related endeavors,
this girl wearing a polka-dot dress and a beret came in, stood in line,
and i heard her order: Big Mac, wedge fries and an Oreo McFlurry.
she anxiously tapped her right foot, the foot that should be reserved for tapping,
and i felt love for the first time in months. i didn't know her but i was in love.
it was the kind of momentary love developed for strangers that makes you think:
**** I wish we could sit together in silence at a McDonalds, mouths full,
eating Big Macs, wedge fries and McFlurries being the envy of McDonalds residents."
and then the stranger asks for her order to go and the universe collapses.
the momentary love begins fading slowly and the fantasy is enveloped by greasy fast food smells.
reality is a ***** girl in the polka-dot dress and beret.
it's been 5 minutes since you left. i miss you.
it's been 10 minutes since you left. i've tried forgetting you.
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 9:31 PM UTC
Once upon a time,
in a land faraway,
lived an Oreo biscuit.
Everyone judged him--
he was black on the outside,
and white on the in.
He thought he would
never ever fit in.
Now in that land of biscuits,
where most were brown,
they all thought Oreo's
the strangest in town.
But little did they know
he was the favorite of the lot.
For in the human world,
his kind was the most bought.
Everyone learned to love him,
even the Fita guy.
But he told Oreo,
"Don't trust humans;
you won't want to know why."
But the Oreo boy,
he was a curious one.
He thought he needed to enjoy,
go out and have fun.
Later that night,
someone grabbed him, behold--
fear glazed over Oreo's eyes
over what he was told.
He was twisted and dunked
in milk till he drowned.
Then broken forever
and his life was summed.
For whatever Fita said,
it became so true.
Whatever happened to Oreo
Hopefully, won't happen to you.
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 7:48 AM UTC
Sometimes I get the munchies so bad after smoking **** that I pick something I normally wouldn't.
Tonight before work I stopped at the gas station and my eyes skated across an Oreo cookie brownie.
I have had one before so I already knew it was exactly what I needed.
As I was driving I took bite after bite until finally, because it is so dense and sugary, I had to take a drink.
I ate nearly all of it in the 5 minutes it takes to get to work, but now I have just a little bit left that will probably go to waste because the munchies wore off and like I said,
I don't normally go for that kind of snack.
Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 10:44 PM UTC
guilt me like a cancer
manipulate me like a taurus
if i was the first verse, you’d skip to the chorus
i tape glue and sew but you’re the one who tore us
ripped me into pieces and i made myself
something new
i recognized myself
you’re lost not knowing what to do
play dumb like a pisces and lash out like a scorpio
if you’d give me up for anything
it would be half an oreo
maybe four quarters or a dollar
but you could never change
had a heart for everyone but i was never in your range
impulsive like an aires confusing like a gemini
you my day 1 and i love you turns into there cant be a you and i
you “never wanna make me cry” but can never keep your **** dry
eyes red like im high
you “never want to say goodbye” but the second things dont go your way you fly
but you could never be the bad guy?
act out like a capricorn stubborn like a leo
how you beat yourself up but wanna be everyones hero?
your double life is really a triple
i should call you trio
if ‘paid in full’ was my life you would be rico
how my own girl crossed me?
then made it my fault that she lost me?
then told everyone she tossed me?
don’t care like aquarius outted me like a libra
you beat around the bush when i made it black and white like a zebra
how i told you tell me the truth and you made up a story
you cant lie on someone who loves you
and bask in glory
i paved the way for you and you act lost like dory
and i still found you
careless like sagittarius critic like a virgo
how you tell me to “never leave” but you go?
how you use the water you drained me of to grow
you’re not who your instagram shows
i see through you, commando
you cant flex on me if you know what i know
May 5, 2019
May 5, 2019 at 12:51 AM UTC
You tried to learn everything you could.
About life, love, religion. The whole deal.
You were convinced that you would be the one to go to if there was ever an apocalypse.
You laughed things off, but you always had a heavy heart.
And when you shared your soul, It was beautiful.
You used to call me in the middle of the night
Pretending to be an old black man from Louisiana
Keeping me up for hours laughing.
I ALWAYS found it creepy to wake up on the couch to you spooning me.
And whenever you just randomly licked me across the face,
I was truly disgusted.
I've never seen someone break a bone before,
But you took it like a champ. And still caught the ball.
Washing dishes.
Late night bike rides.
(You riding Mom's bike, honking that **** horn at EVERYONE)
Sunglass and antique shopping.
Ancient Ways.
Bonfires.
Oreo races.
Sushi trips.
Labyrinth hunting.
Our obsession with graffiti.
And SO much more.
We had such a rocky start.
And we drove eachother crazy.
But you made me feel special.
Important.
You saw things in me that no one, including myself, would've ever noticed.
I will be forever thankful to have gotten the chance
To see what a beautiful person you truly were.
You grew to be more than my friend.
You were my brother.
I Loved you more than you'll ever know.
This stupid poem doesn't do justice to explain just how much you meant to our whole family.
You were a part of it, whether you wanted to be or not.
That's where you ended up,
And I've never been so happy to have a *** sleeping on our couch.
You were one weird ******* kid. But man, I sure loved you♥
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 12:14 PM UTC
Various flavours all so sweet,
They indicate only one thing,
Definition of sweetness & joy.
Enjoy it with friends or family,
Or the most beautiful memory,
I enjoy it with her on my mind.
It is just so sweet & chocolatey,
Just as her strong & soft nature,
I love them both, but I eat Oreo!
Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 8:17 AM UTC
.simone biles (the gymnast)...
miles davis (the trumpet guy)...
must be black privilege;
wasn't there a movie...
starring
woody harrelson
and wesley snipes?
you sure?
i thought it was
called: white men can't jump...
sure as **** ****** can
sing church gospel!
how's that for
privilege?
if you're going to
culturally box, and repeatedly
punch below the belt...
you're quiet likely going
to get a reaction...
i have an acne wart growing
on my *** the size
of a cauliflower,
it's itchy my brain,
it's differentiating between
agitate and: lying back...
i guess the excess of...
look... you may have
the excess melanin...
i have lactose tolerance...
we're even?!
no?
so how come some smurf,
some European hobbit
shackle your N.B.A.
Goliath(s)?!
explain that one to me...
if these people were so
cock-unsure...
how they **** did they
tame the Zulu Apache Goliath
bodybuilders?!
what the ****
i already said, and it was proven...
IQ...
i don't like it...
but i'm pretty sure that
the whites **** more people
in terrorist attacks than...
camel-jockeys...
it took 3 or over three...
to perform the Bataclan Massacre...
three... the third of the IQ
that required a Breivik...
130 in France...
dissociated among 3 attackers
that gorged on testicles after the spree...
fun, fun fun fun...
like: you're trying to say that without
irony...
and how many in Norway?
77...
i only look at the IQ of killers...
so... what's the ratio?
77 / 1
130 / 3 = 43...
like i said... low IQ...
you really want your little
racial insurrection?
you'll have it, don't worry..
i'll just the narrative...
must be black privy...
if you can mash up a jazz compos.,
right?
crackers read from
a prepared script...
you ******* just, "improvise"...
rapping contra talking...
**** come to think of it...
******* boys took it too far from
your Oreos...
like... too much drums...
not enough wind, or strings...
too much drumming...
pulverizing the ears
with drum & bass and what not...
if i wasn't deaf prior,
i'm deaf by now;
******* boy to Oreo woo-oo-oops
boy;
same **** different cover.
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 9:42 PM UTC
ghosts of slumber parties past.
just a haunted betamax & a stack of oreo sandwiches.
sisters braiding eachother’s hair far past the witching hour,
contemplating life without supervision.
blue house. yellow lawn.
silverback gorilla in one garage.
two garage: empty.
three garage: a woman entombed in exhaust.
[her bloated tongue]
a gang of bmx boys pizza-fed and friday-high,
hopped up on mountain dew and trading card collectible rituals ‘n rhythmics.
they conjure a demon just to **** and dismember it.
for funsies.
for keepsies.
a fang for the shrine at the foot of the old oak tree.
history on the skin, long history, long thoughts, long in the nod like a calm dead frog.
bubbled, boiled, toiled, and troubled.
the woods aren’t haunted.
you are haunted.
you are the conduit through which the darkness displays its vivid colors.
[treefort aflame]
the seasons furrow/
/ the leaves fall.
little plots of land etched out – subdivision and sprawl.
on the avenue, heaven
& hell made tame and tangible.
built, re-built, and refurbished – a lawn and a lantern.
a mortgaged glory of sparkle and decay.
[dead cat is a new cat is the old cat ran away]
pictograms of morning light display on mom’s face
as she instructs us on the gusts of love [scrambed eggs]
& teaches us the truth of nettles sprung
from violent pine.
[toast with raspberry jam]
the television.
the microwave.
the blender beverages.
hymnals of an electric kingdom.
one mom dances, the other expires.
[restless armless girls in orange sunsets]
girl with a gun at the edge of her lawn and selling lemonade.
girl in an old wicker chair.
save her horror story for another day.
boy with a bent frame bicycle limps his way home
from one end of the avenue to the other.
his pockets full of sparkly rocks found in the lime quarry pit.
one boy in a long line of lost planets.
the driveway.
the refrigerator.
the hum of a saturday night commercial-free cassette.
where’s dad?
the glow of an eerie crystal
(continued…)
Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 6:18 AM UTC
I Love Pie & You Sweetie Pie!
I Love Pie & You Sweetie Pie
Love pumpkin pie its so good
Awe taste just like it should
Love lemon pie with a
touch of ****
Love it deep down in my
heart
I love jello pie it's
so sweet
The way it wiggles
it's so neat!
Love pie of banana cream
And chocolate is my dream
I love blueberry too
It's so good & blue
I love BlackBerry too awe
so sweet and black
Pick em right off the vines
and put em in a sack
I love apple pie topped
with cheese
Oh and make that a scoop
of val ice cream please
Oh and also the Apple Dutch
Oh how I love it so much!
Custard Boston and
Zesty Lime,
Whip Cream Humble and
Rhubarb all the time!
Quick Set Frozen Cream
Pie and Oreo Cookie Crust
Sweet Tatter and Velvet
Turtle Now that's a must!
But my favorite pie
of all is true
That's my favorite pie
"Sweetie Pie" it's you!
WrittenBy:BarbieKirk
11-24-14 5:09am
www.allpoetry.com/RainbowBlessings
© Barbie Kirk . All rights reserved, 16 hours ago
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 10:45 PM UTC
This poem is called I think oreos might be better then ***
Even though that's not what the titled said
smooth and crunchy
chewy too
grind your teeth back and forth
eat that oreo
munch munch munch
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 12:19 AM UTC
Oh, oh Oreo
Oreo the cat
Who makes of ripped up paper towels
Very fancy hats
Oh, oh Oreo
My silly little friend
Who through ridiculous antics
Amuses to no end
Oh, oh Oreo
Sniffer of all shoes
Faced with the choice of sniffing strangers
It's their footwear that you choose.
Oh, oh Oreo
Speaker of cat tongue
I pretend to understand your words
But my translations are far-flung
Oh, oh Oreo
Warmer of my lap and heart
I promise now as I did before
We will never be apart.
Feb 2, 2013
Feb 2, 2013 at 11:03 PM UTC
Why oh why do I love pie?
The ABCs of it and
the LMNO-Pie of it
A Apple Pie
B Boston cream Pie
C Cherry Pie
D Dutch Apple Pie
E Equation Pie 3.14
F Fruit Pie
G Grandma's Gooseberry Pie
H Humble Pie
I Ice Cream Pie
J Jell-O Pudding Pie
K Kidney Pie
L Lemon Meringue Pie
M Moon Pie
N Nutty Pecan Pie
O Oreo Cookie Crust Pie
P Pud'nin Pie
Q Quick Set Frozen Cream Pie
R Rhubarb Pie
S Sweet Tater Pie
T Tuxedo Pie
U Upside Down Pineapple Pie
V Velvet Truffle Pie
W Whip Cream Pie
X PIE IN THE FACE
Y Yummy Pie
Z Zesty Lemon/Lime Pie
Now you have the XYZ of it
and the PIE of it
Why oh why do you love Pie?
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 3:17 PM UTC
Often I get worried that my words aren't beautiful enough, when they come out of my mouth they seem to be swimming in saliva and uncertainty
and I get angry and spit and shout and say nothing.
Slammed like poetry readings.
I’m not following in your footsteps,
just repeating the rhythm.
(Teach me about good music
So that when do the dishes and hum
my teenie-bopper, headed-to-oblivion melodies,
you know it is malicious.)
Sometimes i feel like the best way to understand the world is to sit in my bedroom
and look out the window, trapped like the cat,
who, when he sleeps, twitches his paws and
i think he is dreaming of meadows, but really he is dreaming
of the living room chair.
“You should have named that cat Hamlet, he so pensive”
I named him Oreo.
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 9:45 PM UTC
oh i can tell you why Brexit happened...
apparently in light of the European
i was not European enough,
a mongrel, a ******* Mongol...
eastern Europeans are Mongols,
mind you...
i'm pretty sure the Brexit vote
happened...
because the A8 joined...
when the Eatern European joined
the old post-colonial powers...
plenty of Pakistanis...
do i mind?
do i ******* care?!
i don't care...
you deal with: the minding!
no...
i have an inheritance tax
without any ceremonial
past...
your **** is your ******* ****
plus the Arab, and the curry...
**** off!
i'm no *******
*vierte ***** pussy-whip...
you ******* yo-yo oreo!
mind you?
put me down on this one...
i hate the Poles...
i ******* hate the Poles...
what they did to the Chernobyl me?
i hate the Polacks...
don't like them...
i'd rather spit
than talk to them...
i've learned my lesson...
i hate them more than
the Germans, or the Russians...
i hate them with the sort of hatred
reserved for
patriots...
Judas Priests...
i abhor the ****** catholicism...
it makes me... cringe...
then i think:
thickens the thong -
better than the Islamic
crap to mind making a boot...
Brexit only happened because
of the supposed invasion of the A8...
the Pakistani mobile gave off a jitter -
somehow the "excess" Europeans
migrated...
whites combined with
whites...
Europeans mingled...
big problem for the Pakistanis...
Brexit only happened because
"eastern" Europe joined the
*vierte *****
well... "joined"...
some of us had enough sense as
to keep the currency...
******* Pakistani bullshitters...
what?!
i thought English girls loved
being gang-rape-fucked?!
no?!
my bad...
the joining of the A8
disrupted the presence of Britain in
the EU...
thumbs up on the curry-sauce...
thumbs down on the Baltic
sauerkraut....
guess what?!
**** you!
you ******* British Empire
bonkers...
relief contra racism with an
Empire disintegrating!
wankers...
sure, beseech alliances
outside of Europe...
seek them, find them,
govern them...
the next time you come shoveling your
**** into my: awareness...
i'll be asking...
so... Rotherham...
no, not really... don't bother me
with that sort of ****
you deal with your ********
before shoving your ***** into my mouth
expecting me to gargle
on the produce...
you're closer to Pakistan
than i am to Mongolia...
you draw the the postcard...
i'll draw the pretty picture.
don't get me wrong, thought,
i hate the Polacks...
i don't belong between them...
i'd prefer to be strapped to a Hydra
of homeless dogs...
than exercise the humanity
of a shared tongue
with these... mongrels;
mind you... the British are just as
bad... when it comes
to their, mongrel stature.
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 6:54 PM UTC
Imagine life as a panda, what would it be like?
We would eat, sleep and sit
Who knew, we’re so alike?
A sparkly fresh black paint and white, so different, you got to admit
That we’re so calm and we’re so perfectly sweet
Flute, is what we are, it fit
Our personality, so comfy that you will take a seat,
And listen to the music of nature.
However, we have another personality,
A brother that is: nosy and major!
But we are very protective,
We’re like a fluffy warm coat or a big fuzzy boot,
Wrapping around our love, and it’s very affective!
If you ask us, what panda smells like? Perfume or a fruit?
We’d say, we smell just like bamboo,
The smell of nature and our favorites!
And did you know that Oreo is our relative too?
Crunchy; tasty and creamy flavor!
We are different from the other bears
And that’s what made us unique!
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 11:54 AM UTC
losing him's like being given an oreo
when you've been having double stuff forever
i've been losing him and i didn't even notice
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 5:17 AM UTC
Locked in battle,
opponent glaring
into soul.
One of the best
against the best.
Undefeated
to say the least.
Lack self confidence,
left eye twitches.
Opponent pounces
at slightest hint
of weakness.
Death glare ensues
as I witness
my whole life
flash before my eyes.
Checkmate.
As I stare into
the endless void
of those eyes,
Eternity herself
becomes visible.
Too much to behold,
loss of footing.
Trip.
Blink.
Oreo the cat,
champion once again.
Feb 9, 2013
Feb 9, 2013 at 10:08 PM UTC
***Our story begins in a galaxy far far away
on the dark chocolate side of The Milky Way
the planets all look like cookies and donuts
boys and girls grow to be bakers and astronauts
they have five different planets that orbit two suns
****** is smaller and Butter is the bigger one
the first is Glazey-1 the second is Eclarian-2
spell Heaven backwards and Nevaeh-3 comes into view
the forth is my favorite, they call it Smore-4
most well known for it’s white melting core
and last but certainly not least is Oreo-5
it’s surface is hardest and is smallest in size
a special place for sure is this sweet solar system
planets sparkle after a sugary rain sweetens and mists ‘em
watch a cartoon, blow a balloon or hum your favorite tune
or you can do as I do, and wish upon Macaroon Moon***
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 9:47 AM UTC
we’re hipster lovers with our
baggy sweaters and tortoise-rimmed
glasses.
your choice in music is too cool,
i gobble up literature like oreo milkshakes.
we’re hipster lovers
with our admiring Blake,
your multi-colored jeans, my eyeliner
thick and sharp.
you’re the hipster boy with unruly hair,
and cool as a cucumber temper.
i’m the hipster girl cool with too much sadness and
a fetish with Plath.
we make an awkward, cute team, you and i.
i’ll borrow your drug impacted jumper,
if you keep reading me zen poetry,
and we can dawdle inside indie
coffee shops while we hold
hands and sip
slowly.
Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 4:32 PM UTC
Hershey, black satin, as long as my torso
Diamond green comforting eyes
Velveteen curious nose
Tongue like a pumice stone
Her elegant but waddling stride
Powerful, confident and territorial
Sitting like a queen on her throne
Cat of mine, mother to be
Tuxedo, black and white, bow tie and all
White sock covered feet like satin gloves
Long white elderly whiskers
He reminds me of Fred Astaire
Quick calculated light on his feet
Shy yet debonair
Patient, watchful and full of pride
Father to be
Oreo, friend and foe
White as snow, black face and tail
Large circular patches of black
Fearless fence and roof climber
Youngster full of mischievousness
Paws in the air, tummy exposed to the sun
Purring so loud she vibrates
Kitty of mine
Aug 1, 2010
Aug 1, 2010 at 6:14 AM UTC