"oreos" poems
I could just **** as I masochistically type your name into the search bar at the top of the page.
I want to erase you from my memory,
but my browser catches your cookies.
I don't even know what those cookies are.
the cookies from the jar?
the cookies from my mind?
the cookies from my computer...
the cookies you ate that one time.
Oreos.
Those were your favorite.
Who the **** brought up cookies?
I could just **** as I masochistically type your name into the search bar at the top of the page.
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 6:43 PM UTC
I
I stole my brother’s car and drove to Phoenix in the dark.
The blue-green glow of dashboard gauges, the biting scent
of roadkill and desert marigolds. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Insects slapping the windshield, incipient rain.
Keep driving. Drive until the sun blooms.
II
Some days were more dire than others. CCTV footage confirms
I pawned a shotgun, a Gibson guitar, and my wife’s engagement
ring at the pawnshop next to Fatty’s Tattoo parlor on MLK Boulevard.
The typographically accurate Declaration of Independence
inscribed on my back also confirms this.
III
I ran the tilt-a-whirl at the Ashtabula county fair,
fattening up on fried Oreos and elephant ears,
twisting behind tent ***** with a one-armed
contortionist with strawberry-blonde hair.
IV
I derailed in a dive bar.
V
I disappeared in a city lit by lavender streetlights,
where buildings blotted out the stars and the traffic
signals kept perfect time. I picked through trash bins.
I paid for love with drugstore wine.
VI
I closed my eyes on a mountain road.
The sheriff extracted me from a ****** snowbank.
VII
I holed up for weeks in an oceanfront motel, dazed
by the roar of the breakers. Each morning I drew
back the curtains and lost myself
in the crisscrossing patterns of whitecaps,
the synchronous flight of sanderlings above the dunes.
I dreamed of dead horseshoe ***** rolling in with the tide.
VIII
The moon over my shoulder
tightened into focus like a spotlight.
One night the barking dogs undid me.
I caved in to the candor of a naked mattress.
I grew my beard, an insomniac in a jail cell,
clinging to bars the color of a morning dove.
IX
I coveted the house keys of strangers.
X
I opened and closed many doors.
I sang into the mouths of storm drains.
I stepped out of many rooms only
to find myself in the room I just left.
Despite all my leaving, I remained.
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 1:45 PM UTC
In my youth I said I was more than black.
That my melanin was skin deep,
just a glance doesn’t reveal anything.
Time has taught me that I’m black enough.
I’m black enough that I got a college degree
to go with the Oreos kids called me
Black enough to pause when a cop rolls
by, even though I’ve committed no crime.
Black enough that I got family doing time.
Still black enough to be excited
about Black Lightning, Black Panther and Luke Cage.
Black enough to know people will see we are more than rage.
Black enough to never
let anyone call me outside my name,
and to rock twists until they became my mane.
See I’m black enough to know
I’m blessed enough to be made in his image.
That every breath in this body is a privilege.
I’m blessed enough to have two parents at home.
Blessed enough that God’s with me when I roam
I’m blessed enough to use these words as weapons,
cutting down all societal expectations.
Blessed enough to know that yes,
I am more than black,
but I’m still black enough.
Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 3:55 PM UTC
There was once a sheep and a dragon. The dragon loved the sheep very much, more than she loved herself, but the dragon could never express her love because she was afraid she might hurt the sheep. You see, sheep and dragons don't belong together. If the dragon were to breathe fire on the sheep's wool by accident the sheep would die. If the dragon accidentally stepped on her sheep, she would never see his handsome smiling face again, and what good would that be? So the dragon cried and cried.
Then there was the sheep. Sheep loved dragon too, but none of his sheep friends thought that he would be cool if he married a dragon. They would make fun of him, call him names and his parents would shun him. The sheep knew that the dragon could hurt him but he wasn't worried, he would wrap himself in something that wasn't flammable and he would be sure never to walk underneath the beautiful dragon. The problem was, the sheep couldn't figure out if he loved his family or Dragon more. So he went to seek help from the wise Turtle.
Turtle lived very far from sheep, but sheep thought that the walk was worth it to find out what he should do. When he arrived at Turtle's house, he was invited in for tea and Oreos. After the small snack, Sheep got right to business and he told Turtle his predicament. Turtle laughed and shook his tiny, Turtle head. "My child," Turtle said "If you really loved Dragon, everyone else's thoughts wouldn't be important. Prove to her that she matters." Sheep shook his head. Turtle hadn't solved his problem at all! "You are NO help you crazy old turtle," yelled Sheep. And he stormed out.
A day or so later Dragon went to see wise old Turtle too. She told Turtle about how she felt about sheep. Again, the wise (and now crazy) Turtle laughed. He thought that young kids didn't understand true love. "Let go of your insecurities Dragon. Sheep loves you and he accepts everything about you, he loves the fire that you breathe, even though it can burn him sometimes and he loves your big feet even though they can stomp him sometimes." The Dragon went home thinking about what Turtle had told her.
A week later Sheep and Dragon went together to see Turtle. Sheep apologized for being so rude before and said that he thought about what Turtle said and realized that he was right. Sheep loved Dragon and that was all that mattered. Dragon blushed red, like the fire she breathed. Turtle turned toward Dragon and asked her what she had learned. Dragon said she learned that even though she may be insecure about some things, she shouldn't let that get in the way of being happy with someone that she loves. Turtle laughed for that last time in this story and said, "Love is a funny thing, sometimes we don't always see what is there" with that being said, Dragon and Sheep ran away to live happily ever after.
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 3:23 PM 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
Oreos O so yummy
There so good in my tummy
You dip them in milk
You pull them apart
So much goodness
In one little munch
So go get me a bunch
I love my oreos
O so much
O so much
Some have peanut
And some have mint
There all so good
But double stuff is everyones favorite I bet
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 10:01 PM UTC
banana skin salad in
artificial lemonade
peacocks salivating
mushy rooms belly aching
Oreos are okie dokie
ocean breezes open up me
analyzing any eyes
evaluating coffee grinds
a manifesting apple in me
apple in the Snapple leaking
sticky salamander fingers
static on a broken speaker
attics over broken theaters
salmon eating taco teachers
teaching choco taco preachers
preaching at Chicago creatures
opal rings and oval things
are focusing on yodeling
a social need for opening
in total global offerings
and in a soup or telephonic
happiness in playing sonic
gently speaking thick Ebonics
sickly tonic
Let's be honest, boys
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 1:26 AM UTC
You should know
that I eat mini Oreos like cereal
and I think most things are beautiful
and I'd rather stay up way too late
than miss an adventure
because good adventures
are few and far between.
You should know
as much as I strive for perfection
I'm terrified of being perfect
so I don't take off my makeup
so when I look in the mirror in the morning
I'm reminded that a mess means
someone's been there.
You should know
that I usually wear sneakers
because nothing, especially shoes
should hold you back
if there is ever a desire to run.
You should know that there is constantly
a five ton rock on my shoulders
a monkey on my back
and a mask on my face.
You should know
that robots have feelings too
and if you ever find a perfect field
save me a spot next to you.
You should know
nothing would make me smile
more than perfect strawberries.
You should know
nature isn't meant to be perfect
but it'd be a nice sign
that someone's on my side
and knows all that you should.
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 12:12 AM UTC
You’re like the sweetest heart
You’re like my miracle
You’re the only one I want
You’re like the World Series
You’re like the saints ,won
You’re like the eagles versus
You’re like frog legs in Paris
You’re like my always pads
You’re like every ticket I’ve ever had
You’re like my air bag I never want to use you
You’re like my little angel’s eyes
You are second hand smoke
You are on my way to my God
you are my music high way
And every Mexican blanket
You are a field of hay and a single strike of lightning
You are every unfinished piece
I know I’m saving for our children
I have seen them in make shifts so we can definitely make time for everyone
Keep me on your next list
You are all the self help books that I read for my own mend
You are prevention magazine
And you’re mom is all the wax I accidentally spill out of candles
I think you’re my insecure side that’s scared to love you in front of the neighbors
You’re all the days I showed up late to school for Chuck Norris jokes in detention
You’re all the lonely drives I take and really enjoy the scenery
You are Oreos and Sonic Ice
You are better than any view
You are every sing
le time someone
took me to the zoo
You are the pink palace
You are mismatched socks
You are solid rock
You are for twenty in the morning on the dot
You are every time that I cannot forget dingus
Or every time we drive I sing to you
Or when we got locked inside of the parking lot on signal mountain and the park ranger came to help us so soon
You are my best friend coming to see me when I got to college
You are the patience I gain when I
Stop wondering who the one is
Maybe you are every time I run away
You are all the times I cry so hard that it starts to rain
You are the doe that always comes near and is never afraid of what will happen next
You are the day you told me I was the girl you dreamed about
You are the day we sat in the back of my car
You are there for me when I have gone too far
You meet me further than any arrest or charger cord
And Graceland too
You’re my wonderful morning
You’re my answered prayers for sunshine
You’re every single word I type in black and white
Messy cars aren’t so bad too meme my love for this love is the only art form I choose
Loves eliminating my clouded culture
I’m ready for the day when eagles fly over
Thank you god for everything
Dec 22, 2018
Dec 22, 2018 at 3:48 AM 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
SOME ******* TOOK ALL THE OREOS,
LICKED OUT ALL THE ICING
AND LEFT ONLY THE SOGGY CHOCOLATE COOKIES BEHIND
I WILL AVENGE THEIR DEATHS SOMEDAY
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 11:00 PM UTC
A day with you is saying good morning to the sun with cups of coffee. Long walks, but longer talks, and feeling tingly. Pillow fights on white sheets in underwear with yellow smileys; bacon and eggs and pancakes and sausage, and peanuts with no grease.
A day with you is seeing the dusk with rainbows. Chocolate ice creams and cones and mangoes; KitKats and Cadburys and Oreos, with Lego House and marshmallows. Or maybe cookies and cola and not milk, while I hold your hand of silk. Or maybe some singing or dancing or playing the guitar. Or painting a portrait of the moon and stars.
A day with you is a night in July and rainy. And kissing you with some hugging too and three spoonfuls of honey. Then I'll cradle you, with lights out, as you doze sweetly beside me. I'll hum you to sleep with tender pattings on the hips, and watch your eyelids fall gently.
Jul 25, 2015
Jul 25, 2015 at 1:05 PM UTC
I know that
You will never write me a love letter
Or a song
You will never know how I hate Oreos
Or Nutella
You will never sing me to sleep
Or cuddle me 'till morning
You will never hold my hand
Or brush away the stray hairs off my face
But I perfectly know,
I have never even crossed your mind
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 8:13 AM UTC
*I ate a whole thing of oreos in front of you,
and then,*
I ate another.
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 6:19 PM UTC
Orangey so tangy loosely
her words flowery so
rustic fun* erotic*
the panic straight
jacket going ginger
snaps her ticket
*Pocketful of sunshine
in your pocket*
****** the maestro
In the stars of the cosmos
On the edge but earthly
Let's go slow
Did we miss the
whole entire glow
"So Tickle me Pink"
The stardust funds
of the trust
Having a light fuse
The picturesque
Fields so mystique personality
Lights up unique
Your word against mine
In a matter of fact were in
It's your cue waves pull me in
If so the sky does it remain
always blue such a variety
Of cookies no outrageous
Time for Oreos
What's inside its outside
Cleopatra's eyes snap away
Like a masquerade
Don't rain on my parade
Love of Virginia innocently
Love is the drug
insanely
Scrapes on her knees
The western front
Ginger Snaps
Those bottle caps and buzzing
honey bees Tangerine trees
Galavant like General Lee
Ginger the gunslinger
She's the singer
eating Saralees
Whats to boot
But getting closer
To the naked eye
to the surface be wise
"Owl Hoot"
So lovely genuinely
He's husky and ruly
Apps Gingersnaps
Exchanging cat naps
Her lips in higher
states of trips
Trying to get there
Bohemian Rapsody
The Queen of the
economy
Photo editing Unicorn pony
Another brainless wedding
We are the champions
What a snitch like a witch
Bad luck switch the lion's den
Topiary timeless good luck Zen
Loud sirens
Drug trafficker morons
The plastic Surgeons
Backstabber persons
Blue jeans snap taking a
Sniff Shiba Uni howls
To be loved in beauty
My Mom Judy good
earth bounty
Tall and sleek every week
Smells of Ginger
no danger
The earth on her cheeks
Can love be any truer
Into the Gala the apple
of her eye never goodbye
Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 8:17 AM UTC
I'm aware of what
I'm falling into
but no it won't
minimize the impact.
I understand you're the type
that needs constant attention
but I don't see myself
having that much time.
I believed that slowly
you made me fall
because after some time
I found myself quite happy.
I realize I loved you
because I know I would
walk through hell
just to see you smile.
I promised myself
I wouldn't get hurt
because you were the type
to love, leave and break.
I stopped myself
from smiling like an idiot
when you hugged me
and kissed my hair.
I trusted you
with my dearest secrets
and no, you did not
let me down.
I dearly loved
the smallest things you do,
your smile, your laugh
and your personality too.
I remember that day
you bought me Oreos
was the same day
I stopped guarding my heart.
My happiness, my life
my other half,
if you ever break me,
at least make it last.
Because truly
the only person
I want to hurt me
is you.
W.H.Y~
Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 4:45 AM UTC
Run naked and eat Oreos
Walking barefoot licking ice-cream
Holding hands blushing lightly
laying naked and tasting cannabis
Walking barefoot finding *****
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 8:13 PM UTC
Suspicious milk
There when I got home
In a tub
Surrounded by water
Or milk blood
Ostracised from the fridge
Left alone to die
Why?
Did you commit milk atrocities?
****** innocent milk bottles?
Or maybe you're a secret agent
The names skimmed
Semi-skimmed
He's like the FBI in your fridge!
He's like the CIA on your cereal!
He's like the MI5 for your cookies!
Did you get all that
Full fat?
After those Oreos!
With their twisting
Licking
Dunking
Dunking their souls into the blood of our young
Or maybe not
Cow juice, alone on the breakfast bar
Not that far
Milk on the sill, defrosting.
Watching.
Aug 16, 2013
Aug 16, 2013 at 4:26 AM UTC
Count every calorie
1,2…Too many
Try each quick trick,
power shake,
weight loss,
fat *******
muscle building,
fiberlicious,
piece of ******** I can get my hands on
Take the stairs, not the elevator
Walk to work, then walk home
Jog in place,
Do 10 push-ups,
Jumping jacks,
Tuck jumps,
Sit-ups,
Scissor kicks,
You name it I’ve done it
I’ve stuck to my diet for so long
My menu has consisted of a million and one ways to say bland
I have looked into low-fat,
No fat,
Fat free,
Sugar free,
Sodium free,
‘Feel free, to leave me on the shelf because I taste like dog ****
versions of every name brand in the produce section
and now…now I would **** for some cheese fries,
Or a giant cake just for me,
An entire package of Oreos dipped in Nutella,
Or simply a candy bar
Dieting takes will power,
But vending machines take mere pocket change.
Feb 6, 2013
Feb 6, 2013 at 1:08 PM UTC
I like my dark orange hair,
the way it hangs low beneath my shoulders
and drapes down my spine.
I like how it looks in braids.
I like how pretty my toes look when I wear scarlet polish.
I like how tiny my ankles are.
I like having a little waist
and how it tilts to one side.
I like how cute I feel with my face naturally
and I like my round nose.
I like the way my teeth look
after I have Oreos and coffee in the morning.
I like my spidery fingers and my baby wrists.
I like how dainty they look when I play piano.
I like how they look with chipped nail polish.
I like my body
I like the uneven scatter of bones and ridges,
like when the plates under the sea collide and rise.
Pretty words make the negatives desirable.
I like these things today.
Jun 5, 2012
Jun 5, 2012 at 6:16 PM UTC
Paris is so beautiful, that it’s emotional,
like the red tile roofs of Rome,
or the Kenroku-en gardens of Japan.
It’s a relatively large world.
Whenever you can fly over an ocean
you feel limitless, and godly,
like the world is there for you, on demand.
Speaking of God-like views, I’m headed
to Lisa’s (parents) Manhattan highrise again
this year for Thanksgiving—six, very-long days
from today—and I have to wait—but I can’t wait.
I’m starting to stuff things into my bag, like a turkey.
There are so many holiday things to do in Manhattan.
Things that invariably whip you up for a sparkly Christmas.
But these are only commercial attractions—planned distractions.
One frosty November-break morning, two years ago,
a tide of clouds had rolled in, like a trillion tons of cotton
candy had been dumped on New York city, overnight,
filling it up to the 42nd floor. It glistened there, below us,
in the klieg-bright sun, like Tiffany diamonds on cotton.
So, imagine that, then add a flock of geese, in military-like
v-formation flying just at the crest of the glitter, like dolphins
hopping in and out of the waves, as they passed above the
insignificant works of man. It took my breath away.
So, naturally I grabbed for my fancy phone with its super-duper,
high-res camera. The snaps did the glorious scene poor justice—
the majestic, wild geese came out as dots on glare.
I’m watching things carefully this year, not just the multicolor, cachet, window displays on Fifth Avenue and the decorations at the Chelsea Market (where Oreos were invented). I’m going to capture this year
—every intense, emotional second—with that most unreliable, 3D
gadget of all—Memory.
.
.
A song for this:
Holiday Road by Lindsey Buckingham
Nov 15, 2024
Nov 15, 2024 at 11:45 AM UTC
If I have to tell myself
on a Wednesday—
a Wednesday morning no less—
that I should think
a little more than usual
because I am, after all,
getting high and still
a little drunk,
then I’m making another drink.
But now, when I get smoke in my eyes
or puke before noon
or spend all my money online
or eat all the oreos
I won’t know where I’ll be tomorrow.
There are only so many
stop signs to steal,
and besides,
they always get replaced.
But I still want to stay drunk
and spend my Wednesday mornings high
and puke when I wanna
and spend my whole paycheck online
and eat more oreos.
If I could settle down,
then I would settle down.
Isn’t that how the song goes?
Dec 19, 2015
Dec 19, 2015 at 5:45 PM UTC
At the grocery store
each aisle becomes
an obstacle:
will-power
control
weakness
When I reach the
chips-cookies-crackers
I hold my breath
walk fast
eyes down
and escape to the produce section
unscathed -but I never
stop thinking about
red velvet or
peanut butter
Oreos
Finally check out
"is this all today, ma'm"
a tomato
yogurt
asparagus
"no, I forgot something"
run for the oreos
trade in dignitity
eating in the car
worth it.
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 9:28 PM UTC