"peeping" poems
Why Men Cry in the Bathroom
For so many reasons.
I will tell you the why.
I think you know,
Or perhaps, you think you know.
Men are always O.K.,
Even when not.
We expect the worse,
Accept the worse,
Nonetheless,
We are forever unprepared.
Wearily, we cry,
In the bathroom, in private,
Lest sighs slip by,
We be unmasked,
Early warring, strife signs warning.
Copious, tho we weep
Before the mirror confessor,
It is relief untethered,
Unbinding of the feet,
An uncounting
Of beaded rosaries,
Of freshly fallen hail stones,
Of night times terrors
By dawn's early edition's light,
and welcomed.
But look for the mute tear,
The eye-cornered drop,
*** tat, that never drops,
But never ceases formation and
Reforming, over and over again,
In a state of perpetuity of reconstitution,
*The tippy tear of an iceberg revealing,
And I see you peeping, wondering,
What is beneath*
Look for:
the torn worm-eaten edges of spirit,
thrift shop bought, extra worn,
grieving lines neath the eyes,
where the salt has evaporated,
discolored the skin.
worry lines,
under and above,
browed mapped, furrowed boundaries.
the laugh line saga,
where better days are stored,
recalled, as well as recanted,
publicly, privately.
Why just men?
I don't know,
Perhaps,
it is all I know. end.<nml>
Jan 6, 2013
Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 10:46 AM UTC
who knew that in about
4 years time,
or maybe
10,000 years lost in
10,000 multi hued tears,
id be on the same trip-
dancing to the same
shimmering inner grove as before-
braiding fresh cut
flowers-
delicate genital-hands, unfolding in prayer
into my subconscious mind
or perhaps into my hair-
saving colored prism fragments
of knowledge or nonsense-
digesting intoxicating
incense smoke into the
deep throated green streaked
laughter chasms
that are my lungs-
spinning vinyl, spun mind
unwinding, undulating
through string music-
contemplating the sunset's sweet
immaculate form, reoccuring
and balancing itself right outside my window-
dressing in shells, bones,
and beads; kaleidoscope fabric dripping from
the ******* like mother Kali in a Fellini
flick-
peeping out at heads slinking down
the ****** pavement streets-
my hairy angelic form grooving
intensely, spastic-
body flung, strung out in
hot patterns of
mirrored arms and legs-
brain brew bubbling; wicked, fantastic-
limbs waving and grabbing at
tangible tasty morsels,
smelling strongly of indigo
and patchouli-
the East smiling on me and
my intrepid journey to the ocean city-
head thrown back in
tranquil madness-
pipe smoke curling like
ancient hound howls from the corners
of my lips-
smiles spread like insanity, a wicked disease
lost in the forgotten finger painted
confounds of creamy
****** milk consciousness-
basking in lamplight
of the golden glistening
Now.
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 1:26 AM UTC
Sitting in some car in a forgotten parking lot
Grey marks the skies
Lush green plants peeping in
The wildlife of concrete and paint makes the perfect background
For
Little ***** of liquid heaven falling on my windscreen
And some music to complete the scene
Each guitar line synchronises with each raindrop
Each blast of power thunder hits hard like heavy metal
But the soft clouds, the gentle ebb and flow lull me to sleep
Whispering, persuading me to dream
But I really don't want to miss this shard of time
I never want to lose little moments like these
A silver raindrop is born by landing on my car
Crash landing, rather
The bubbling pocket of mystery travels down
Swerving and slamming into other fellow pockets in crime
It's life cycle completes when it reaches the bottom
It races to it's death, unable to stop gravity's plan for it
Each drop morphs into another, making a wave
The rain weaves an intricate web of waves
All strutting their sparkly magic before me
I sense a metaphor for humanity creeping in
Millions of crescendos growing about
Too concerned with their internal politics to worry about others
But I stay focused on the beauty all around
I wonder if heaven has rainy days
If so, this must be one of them
Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 12:28 PM UTC
I laid on a dune, I looked at the sky.
And saw the clouds passing by.
The Moon was peeping through the clouds.
To me it seemed so fake; like a plastic in a vase !
But if I had a mind,
I could write about Pluto, Jupiter and Mars.
I could folio on a rainbow from Venus,
and have breakfast with stars.
Or I could spin the galaxies,
And play pinball with them.
But, I felt so helpless and small;
'Immense', that is what I could say in all !
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 7:54 AM UTC
.
Snow drifts down
laying a lawn cold sheet
across the frozen ground,
creating art reliefs
like acid etching glass,
open space rolling and undulating,
in small hills and depressions,
bedecked in a veil of white.
The silence is deafening,
quiet having been enjoyed
and surpassed,
briefly punctuated by the call of a bird,
A sharp whistle that shrieks
and attacks the silence.
The fresh smell of snowfall wafts up
as it settles and glistens
in the light of silver moonbeams,
randomly peeping through clouds.
The taste of peace,
tranquility,
in the frigid air,
sends imagination soaring
from the desolation of isolation
to another time and place.
The snow falls,
falls,
in a relentless race for the ground,
all is still,
nothing stirs,
as the moor welcomes its quilt
and sleeps with a cold heart,
dreaming,
of being kissed by the Sun.
© Pagan Paul (28/05/18)
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 7:38 AM UTC
Have ye beheld (with much delight)
A red rose peeping through a white?
Or else a cherry (double graced)
Within a lily? Centre placed?
Or ever marked the pretty beam
A strawberry shows half drowned in cream?
Or seen rich rubies blushing through
A pure smooth pearl, and orient too?
So like to this, nay all the rest,
Is each neat niplet of her breast.
13.5k
The moon is now bright and full
showering silver romance,
to the leaves of tree so dull.
A cricket humming his chants
deep in meditation behind
the dark unknown shrub's branch.
Somewhere in a nest, a hatchling can't sleep
letting out feeble hunger cries
her mother did not fetch enough to feed.
While on my walk, I see those eyes
hiding behind a trunk, peeping
I assure it safety, I know may be lying
Night is the time for them to be,
struggling to enjoy independence and security
this unending night leading them to the unknown
what will remain I wonder at the crack of dawn.
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
Upon the cardamom hills, mountain goats,
ace acrobats, above the high rocks gaily prance,
I fell in love with the coy mountain mist, silvery dense
transforming each second, her wizardry in display,
her white cloak was spread above green tea gardens.
she sprung down in a hurry to meet me, excited
how soothing is her soft caresses, impassioned kiss
from the does she has learned a lot I can very well gather,
the fear and the flight to keep danger at arm's length,
purple sun, was curiously peeping down from the hills,
mountain mist pulling spicy cardamom scent around her
whispered to me, "Don't tell any one I am here
before cruel sun chases me out of the hills, let me
hide and play with the little ones of mountain goats
in the cardamom valley where he can never reach"
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 8:58 AM UTC
Superhero
I have a pipe and dark sunglasses,
taking names and kicking some *****
I'm a powerless superhero,
they call me Captain De Niro.
Owe me money, you better pay,
or pain will be on your way.
You better not be selling drugs,
or my lead pipe will give severe hugs.
Don't be ****** any innocent women,
will be breaking your hands and fingers, all ten.
Molesting kids and you don't wanna know,
the dumpster, your ***** I will throw.
I don't allow any peeping or stalking,
with broken legs, there will be no walking.
I'm one of those modern day vigilantes,
on my head, I wear my wife's *******
Can't leap a building in a single bound,
like you, I get dizzy when spun around.
Can't go under water and summon fish,
I prefer them on my eating dish.
No fancy car or a sidekick,
but my pipe can break a brick.
Don't have an invisible jet,
like you, I'm in deep debt.
People have no idea who I am,
I might be Steve, I might be Sam.
Just a man who hates violence,
I hate people that are spineless.
I catch bank robbers in the act,
the odd against them are fully stacked.
I help keep crime off the streets,
can't count the number of villain defeats.
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 12:22 PM UTC
Today I had a bout of acute-you shyness
one where I try to pretend I don't notice
but have you noticed how difficult it is
when outside idles but inside there's a race
to views like you leaning side to side
on the motorcycle ride slot machine
driving my eyes to sly around your slides
taking them wide as when I was eighteen
I'd look for curves at Southend pier's end
give out stares and start to take in scenes
of free amusement at the Fun Bump arcade
around and around the circuit you rode
I was lapping up your every move
sneaking a view through the coin drop
peeping behind the pinball of Dr Who
prying open the photo booth curtain gap
faux testing the mallet with your strength
playing air hockey with my thoughts
were your short chic bangs a wig?
they sit so still I long for the straights
then swing to one side with a leg
tight vibrant jeans in hairpin bends
ironing out where the centre line is damp
polishing the dashing leather saddle
vibrating with wrist twist contempt
loveliness revving up to red line
exploding in my face with daring
this bike crash heart of mine
please forgive not stopping staring
a race course habit never outgrown
I go too fast and of course I fall
in love as bad as deeply madly
but the fact that it's with you.. well
I have to forgive myself this malady
I'm a side-road heading for a spin
on ways to tell you you're beautiful
dangerously close I risk self harm
imagining that colour of pink and pale
the flush u-turn will be a charm
If I can get you climbing off
hot and flustered
I’ll have done my pit stop job
at once a chance encounter
and a fateful winning score
to let you know you've entered
into being my prize draw
I'll walk away but don't be sore
it's up to you to take it further
but just know one thing more
that if you call me to confirm
and tell me that I’m worth it
I would turn around so fast
the world would gearshift
and wait
but not in neutral
for us
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 1:30 PM UTC
He's so beautiful when he's sleeping.
And even though his eyes are closed
I can tell he's dreaming.
He's smiling while he's sleeping.
And even though he may not know it
I can see him beaming.
His eyes are bright when he is sleeping.
And though his eye lids try to hide them
I can feel his soft eyes gleaming.
I shouldn’t watch him sleeping.
For if he wakes and sees me here
He'll know that I was looking.
Is it strange I watched as he was sleeping?
It's just when he sleeps he looks so happy,
And he's warm and soft when he's sleeping.
I shouldn’t watch him sleeping.
For I look really silly here
And there's a chance he's peeping.
I want to touch his face a-sleeping.
But we are not alone in here
And the others'll think I'm creeping.
I love to see his face a-sleeping.
And it pains my heart to know he knows
Others find his face appalling.
I can't wait 'till he's done sleeping.
I want to hear his voice like thunder
But right now he is sleeping.
I can't wait 'till he's done sleeping.
I want to see his eyes of fire
But right now he is sleeping.
I want not to bother him, or wake him while he's sleeping.
I just want to watch him 'cause
He's beautiful when he's sleeping.
#13_3/31/13
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 10:38 AM UTC
i saw a little hedgehog as lovely as can be
peeping through an edge staring there at me
i fed him with some bread and he began to eat
he began to nibble at his little treat.
he had lots of spikes sticking in the air
little tiny spikes sticking everywhere
he had hazel eyes a bright has bright can be
such a soul a lovely chap was he.
when he finished eating he waved and said goodbye
wandered on his way beneath the bright blue sky
i will look again on another day
hoping that the hedgehog will maybe come my way.
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 9:47 AM UTC
Katydids and fireflies have the levee tonight
Swat team held the day
There is peace now
and peeping neighbors
emptying horror
among themselves in whispers
left to wonder
‘bout the screaming and the barking
of earlier that day
“Put down your weapon and come out
with your hands up”
Again and again
the demand of surrender
Total
There is no other way
“Let them go!
Come out! come out with your hands up!
It will be okay”
…and he argues in his mind with the shame and loss
…and the shame and "No…it will not be okay"
He had hit her! Hit her with the Gun
again and again…with the gun
Of his demands
The gun of his power
to make her!
The gun of his despair
He had hit her
the dog is barking
His children scream!
“Put down the gun and come out
with your hands up!”
How many more times will they say it!
for all the neighbors to hear
on a loud speaker
Surrender!
in front of his children
Had she cheated?
Had he lost his job?
Could he lose any more to the screaming?
to the "junk"?
to the flashing lights?
to the window's smashing?
Fence run down?
Lobbing
canisters of tear gas
into the room's stinging eyes
where there is no room
where there is no time
"I would never hurt them!
You!
You know!"
"Let them go!"
"You left me!"
“Put down your weapon and come out
with your hands up!”
It is all too loud
It is all too much
as you put the gun against your temple and…
pull the trigger
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 11:11 PM UTC
I put my head down on my pillow at night,
I smile as I close my eyes.
Because I know that I don't have to feel frightened.
Because Slendy's peeping, keeping close eyes on me all the time.
Slendy knows, I'm only five.
Just like he knows my brother Johnny is nine.
But Johnny doesn't like Slendy too much.
He says he's scarey and frightens him to the touch.
But I like Slendy.
I've told him every time.
Slendy means no harm!
That's why I don't hide.
"Come now child"
I hear Slendy call,
He's waving his arms,
So flimsy and long..
They don't scare me though.
Because I know that Slendy's my friend.
Not a ******
"JANE!"
Slendy starts to move away,
I move towards him in such a sudden daze,
But I hear my mommy keep calling my name.
"JANE!"
I look away from Slendy to see her running to me.
"What are you doing?" I asked her as she picked me up,
As she held me Slendy vanished.
He was gone.
That was the last time I saw him.
But I know he's watching me,
Slendy always talks to me.
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 3:18 AM UTC
My dearest Frank, I wish you joy
Of Mary's safety with a Boy,
Whose birth has given little pain
Compared with that of Mary Jane —
May he a growing Blessing prove,
And well deserve his Parents' Love! —
Endow'd with Art's and Nature's Good,
Thy Name possessing with thy Blood,
In him, in all his ways, may we
Another Francis WIlliam see! —
Thy infant days may he inherit,
They warmth, nay insolence of spirit; —
We would not with one foult dispense
To weaken the resemblance.
May he revive thy Nursery sin,
Peeping as daringly within,
His curley Locks but just descried,
With 'Bet, my be not come to bide.' —
Fearless of danger, braving pain,
And threaten'd very oft in vain,
Still may one Terror daunt his Soul,
One needful engine of Controul
Be found in this sublime array,
A neigbouring Donkey's aweful Bray.
So may his equal faults as Child,
Produce Maturity as mild!
His saucy words and fiery ways
In early Childhood's pettish days,
In Manhood, shew his Father's mind
Like him, considerate and Kind;
All Gentleness to those around,
And anger only not to wound.
Then like his Father too, he must,
To his own former struggles just,
Feel his Deserts with honest Glow,
And all his self-improvement know.
A native fault may thus give birth
To the best blessing, conscious Worth.
As for ourselves we're very well;
As unaffected prose will tell.
Cassandra's pen will paint our state,
The many comforts that await
Our Chawton home, how much we find
Already in it, to our mind;
And how convinced, that when complete
It will all other Houses beat
The ever have been made or mended,
With rooms concise, or rooms distended.
You'll find us very snug next year,
Perhaps with Charles and ***** near,
For now it often does delight us
To fancy them just over-right us.
5.3k
Looking upon this tree with its quaint pretension
Of holding the earth, a leveret, in its claws,
Or marking the texture of its living bark,
A grey sea wrinkled by the winds of years,
I understand whence this man's body comes,
In veins and fibres, the bare boughs of bone,
The trellised thicket, where the heart, that robin,
Greets with a song the seasons of the blood.
But where in meadow or mountain shall I match
The individual accent of the speech
That is the ear's familiar? To what sun attribute
The honeyed warmness of his smile?
To which of the deciduous brood is German
The angel peeping from the latticed eye?
4.9k
*Enchanting sunrises and sunsets
capture my heart and soul
Is one more breathtaking than the other?
no, I don't think so
truly, I feel both are uniquely beautiful
and so breathtaking
Come let's see peeping above the horizon
a divine beauty to behold
A sunrise so glorious with heavenly sunrays
lighting, touching, and caressing the sky
Sunrays vanquishing the darkness
as only sunrays know how*
Mar 29, 2017
Mar 29, 2017 at 10:15 PM UTC
With the onset of the sun in the horizon, the little creatures awake
And dance and sing melodies tantamount to a group of chortling people
Oh, how i wish such convival sights be captured
And played back on repeat everytime you feel low
As vagabonds they fly in search of food and shelter
And when the sun does set, off they disappear in their nests
Robbing the nature of its beauty
For every day they have to give a survival test(from their carnivore counterparts)
The broke pigeon was no different, her eyes gleamed better than Cindrella's did
The vicissitudes of life had rendered it to be a mendicant.
But she was a resilient creature and she continued her fight everyday
Her condition started to exacerbate when she laid 4 snow like eggs
Gathering twig by twig and working for an entire afternoon meticulously
She made a perfect home for her babies which were about to hatch
Be it a human or a bird, mothers always foster the children
Off she slipped into a reverie of a bright future with her kids
But the evil nature had its own sinister plans
Her thoughts were interrupted by a cacophony of sounds of other birds
She knew the sound was ominous
Peeping out of the nest she saw a dozen eagles encircling the tree
Her blood ran cold, she wrapped the eggs around her and a teardrop made its way from her eye
The leader of the eagles stoop towards her and hit her with a beak
The broke pigeon pleaded for its life saying-"I will offer myself to you as soon as my kids learn to fly"
The Machiavillian eagle agreed at first, flew up high,leaving the broke pigeon to heave a sigh of relief
The sigh was a short lived one as it swoop down with two other eagles on the broke pigeon
Performing an act of utter perfidy, there was a sly smile on its face
Turn by turn they devoured the broke pigeon
And kicked the eggs down the nest
It was a brutal ****** much more heinous than the ones we see
But there was none to witness the fate of the broke pigeon
And even if there were, they'd never know the events that transpired
Never know.. never know.. never know..
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 11:15 AM UTC
Though storms of recent years blow chill,
yesterday's sunny warmth is still,
shining and peeping through the haze,
from innocent, youthful, happy days.
My child within sings to the child in you,
"May your Birthday be blessed the whole day
through"
Happy Birthday
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 3:02 AM UTC
You won't recognize them I bet,
your secrets, even in broad day light,
if they walk towards you smiling,
wearing dark glasses to hide their eyes
in a humid day.They now wear clothes
of different styles to take you for a ride,
even cross dress and change the accents,
they play games with your hazy mind
--the secrets you once buried deep under.
They stand peeping behind blinded windows
prowl as shadows soliciting behind half open doors,.
Time flies in a hurry like migratory birds left behind,
you have to strain your ears too much
to hear even the faint foot falls of the past!
Old memories have changed their manners
they try to distract one with invented details
Like the muffled voices in an attic dark,
on a fateful day so long, your old secrets
speak an archaic tongue, that needs to be interpreted.
One has to be artful as the turbaned village elders
who would for your astonishment interpret
the vocabulary of lizard calls, key to nature's intents.
Or the trained eye of an elder who in flashes
of meteor falls, reads the secret messages of universe.
To get a true sense of your own secret
you have to tread the places they hide.
Make them shed their crusted hides
by which they conceal their true color,
which one has been waiting to see,
with a palpitating heart, walking back
to where one walked once, long forgotten.
That is why elders on days of yore
would exhort, embarrassingly repeat too,
not to have any hidden secrets that hurt
even if breathtakingly beautiful like a courtesan.
In some moment one won't expect
dreadful they could turn and become witches,
with fiery eyes, dreadlocks, and long nails.
Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 4:11 PM UTC
I am invisible
and invincible,
an unknown image,
known only with
my visible mask,
an invisible soul,
hidden behind the veil,
shrouded in the
cocoon called
the body,
peeping through
two tiny holes,
from the invisible.
And the one writing,
is invisible
with an invisible heart,
penning the words
of the invisible thoughts,
flowing from the
invisible through the
cracks of the
invisible powerful mind.
An invisible soul
dwelling within
a sound visible body
with a sound
invisible mind,
doing the impossible
and great things
with giant strides
to influence and
impact my world.
I dominate and subdue
the oppressors and
adversaries with the
might of an invincible
invisible warrior.
I healed the
sick and afflicted
with the invisible and
powerful affection of
my invisible love
from my invisible heart.
©2019,Emeka Mokeme.
Sep 24, 2019
Sep 24, 2019 at 3:03 AM UTC
Once again I looked at my sides,
When I decided my password needed a change,
It was rotting - really.
This gaming website required a unique password,
It required at least 10 characters,
My sides were clear and none was peeping.
It required 3 special characters as well,
2 capital letters were also required for it,
I thought for a while & decided as follows:
Superman + Spiderman + Batman + New Delhi + New York = 3SSB2ND&NY;
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 1:57 PM UTC