"pompom" poems - Hello Poetry

You're my Sweet Pea Princess Who weaves flowers of every kind Into a chain or a necklace Of soft, satin petals My Sweet Pea Princess You are my daily inspiration And you often inspire My every latest poem I love you with all my heart My Sweet Pea Princess Who will sometimes Play with pompom ***** Or some kind of kitty toy I love you so much, darling girl And always enjoy our feline kisses Exchanged between our faces Your soft, furry head against my cheek Or butted up against my forehead *You're my Sweet Pea Princess And I love you dearly* ~Marian~

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Mar 7, 2014

Mar 7, 2014 at 2:45 PM UTC

marian

My Sweet Pea Princess

You're my Sweet Pea Princess Who weaves flowers of every kind Into a chain or a necklace Of soft, satin petals My Sweet Pea Princess You are my daily inspiration And you often inspire My every latest poem I love you with all my heart My Sweet Pea Princess Who will sometimes Play with pompom ***** Or some kind of kitty toy I love you so much, darling girl And always enjoy our feline kisses Exchanged between our faces Your soft, furry head against my cheek Or butted up against my forehead *You're my Sweet Pea Princess And I love you dearly* ~Marian~

21

7:30PM, October 9, 2015, 65*F, 10mph breeze, 5% humidity (somehow 10% where I was sitting), 50.0001% chance of rain, dark, cold, late, loud...I think that's enough. Alright! Spoiler alert, Birkston High won the game. If you simply have ears you've known that for a while (many of us who were at the game don't). All the people in Grenfolkshire were there, so there were some empty bleachers, but the Student section was full and lively, and did I say loud, because LOUD....! My ears were ringing (at a B8 note, for the musically overcurious people) for three days straight. I think it was a healthcare tactic, dare I say it. All those figurehead townspeople were there as well, like Mayor Arnofold Plattersbury with his orange jumpsuit, waving a pompom in the air like he just didn't care. Really, he didn't-I got whacked in the head with it eleven times. Recently, after taking a recent poll on the recent event, it was found that only about 35% of people really knew what happened, a number that has declined, recently. This very well is contributed to 1.) most of the people are there for the free food and don't exactly major in football 2.) teenagers are highly social creatures 3.) a bunch of hands in the air and six foot tall mammoths standing on the bleachers will tend to block the view of the people who are five foot small. The freshmen had a real problem on their heads. Nevertheless, the Wildcats found themselves with the bell for another year, whether they knew it or not. The Panthers found themselves nose-in-the-dirt, tail-dragging, while we found ourselves filing out like a herd of wild penguins onto the field.

0

Oct 17, 2015

Oct 17, 2015 at 10:34 PM UTC

clockworktribune

The Battle for the Taco Bell

7:30PM, October 9, 2015, 65*F, 10mph breeze, 5% humidity (somehow 10% where I was sitting), 50.0001% chance of rain, dark, cold, late, loud...I think that's enough. Alright! Spoiler alert, Birkston High won the game. If you simply have ears you've known that for a while (many of us who were at the game don't). All the people in Grenfolkshire were there, so there were some empty bleachers, but the Student section was full and lively, and did I say loud, because LOUD....! My ears were ringing (at a B8 note, for the musically overcurious people) for three days straight. I think it was a healthcare tactic, dare I say it. All those figurehead townspeople were there as well, like Mayor Arnofold Plattersbury with his orange jumpsuit, waving a pompom in the air like he just didn't care. Really, he didn't-I got whacked in the head with it eleven times. Recently, after taking a recent poll on the recent event, it was found that only about 35% of people really knew what happened, a number that has declined, recently. This very well is contributed to 1.) most of the people are there for the free food and don't exactly major in football 2.) teenagers are highly social creatures 3.) a bunch of hands in the air and six foot tall mammoths standing on the bleachers will tend to block the view of the people who are five foot small. The freshmen had a real problem on their heads. Nevertheless, the Wildcats found themselves with the bell for another year, whether they knew it or not. The Panthers found themselves nose-in-the-dirt, tail-dragging, while we found ourselves filing out like a herd of wild penguins onto the field.

1

"Kitty, kitty, kitty!" My foot kicks and rolls The sparkly pompom ball Colored dark green on the carpet Heart racing with energy coursing Through my veins Where are you, Princess? Ah, finally found you, girl Underneath mother's writing desk What a naughty, yet cute thing to do My sweet pea and beautiful Lady You are so adorable Your shiny coat of silver Seems to glitter In the brightness Of the dining room light ~Marian~

0

Mar 3, 2014

Mar 3, 2014 at 10:33 PM UTC

marian

Princess

"Kitty, kitty, kitty!" My foot kicks and rolls The sparkly pompom ball Colored dark green on the carpet Heart racing with energy coursing Through my veins Where are you, Princess? Ah, finally found you, girl Underneath mother's writing desk What a naughty, yet cute thing to do My sweet pea and beautiful Lady You are so adorable Your shiny coat of silver Seems to glitter In the brightness Of the dining room light ~Marian~

17

I can’t remember what I said right before… I kissed you. I think I was wearing your blue and orange hat, the one with the pompom (You look ridiculous in it). I’m sure you thought I was cute when I took it off your head and clicked up the sidewalk backwards as I put it on. I probably thought I was giving you sexy-eyes. I thought you’d think I was crazy when I showed up at your door and rang your doorbell, (like eight times) at 4:37 AM. But I just wanted a kiss I could remember— one I could accept my diploma with. Not a face-full of beard and a blurry hint at what color your eyes might have been when I… took a step back. I wanted to kick off my black Frye boots that made me taller than you on the hill. I wanted to shave that beard to see your face for the first time.

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Sep 14, 2012

Sep 14, 2012 at 10:36 PM UTC

sarah-wheeler

Office Hours are Over

I can’t remember what I said right before… I kissed you. I think I was wearing your blue and orange hat, the one with the pompom (You look ridiculous in it). I’m sure you thought I was cute when I took it off your head and clicked up the sidewalk backwards as I put it on. I probably thought I was giving you sexy-eyes. I thought you’d think I was crazy when I showed up at your door and rang your doorbell, (like eight times) at 4:37 AM. But I just wanted a kiss I could remember— one I could accept my diploma with. Not a face-full of beard and a blurry hint at what color your eyes might have been when I… took a step back. I wanted to kick off my black Frye boots that made me taller than you on the hill. I wanted to shave that beard to see your face for the first time.

26

left cup runneth over/ right cup half empty/ if I add my left cup size to my right cup size what will I get/ DD + D = DDD/I've never been great at math/but this is no/miscalculation/ I am 36 DD confined to a 36 D bra/ (D)Disgorges over the underwire/ D--you flaccid beach ball/I wish I could reinflate you/part my mouth around your nipple/and/ breathe/ no one can tell/unless I wear a tight bodice/then/you are/obnoxiously evident/ I am afraid of introducing you to my future boyfriend/will he still want to undress me/will he still want to make love to me/ will he still want to touch you/ you/ sea urch/in/the palm of my hand/ even I am hesitant to hold you close to me/ you/ strangulated bagpipe/ moulting pompom/ **** what's that spell/ what's that spel/ what's that spe/ what's that sp/ what's that s/ what's that/ what is that/ what/ who are you/ you/ waning gibbous/ my metaphors wane, also/it turns out there are only so many euphemisms that can be assigned to an/ill-proportioned breast/ itsy bitsy titsy/ you make me/ sad/ you/ teardrop defying the laws of gravity/ or/ is it the laws of gravity that defy the teardrop/so that it never falls into/ place/ I've noticed only/beautiful/things/ fall/ shooting stars/ autumn/ my left *****

0

Oct 18, 2020

Oct 18, 2020 at 5:19 PM UTC

VinylPoetry

Ode to My Itsy Bitsy Titsy

left cup runneth over/ right cup half empty/ if I add my left cup size to my right cup size what will I get/ DD + D = DDD/I've never been great at math/but this is no/miscalculation/ I am 36 DD confined to a 36 D bra/ (D)Disgorges over the underwire/ D--you flaccid beach ball/I wish I could reinflate you/part my mouth around your nipple/and/ breathe/ no one can tell/unless I wear a tight bodice/then/you are/obnoxiously evident/ I am afraid of introducing you to my future boyfriend/will he still want to undress me/will he still want to make love to me/ will he still want to touch you/ you/ sea urch/in/the palm of my hand/ even I am hesitant to hold you close to me/ you/ strangulated bagpipe/ moulting pompom/ **** what's that spell/ what's that spel/ what's that spe/ what's that sp/ what's that s/ what's that/ what is that/ what/ who are you/ you/ waning gibbous/ my metaphors wane, also/it turns out there are only so many euphemisms that can be assigned to an/ill-proportioned breast/ itsy bitsy titsy/ you make me/ sad/ you/ teardrop defying the laws of gravity/ or/ is it the laws of gravity that defy the teardrop/so that it never falls into/ place/ I've noticed only/beautiful/things/ fall/ shooting stars/ autumn/ my left *****

41

Today, I’m well. Yes. Good. I’m good, I should say. God? God, no! Good God! Good. Up-welling of wellness. Bow tied: A bow-tie-kind-of-day day. Sun furtive. Won’t be long. Shouldn’t expect she’ll be long. Yes, she. Ephemeral. Resplendent. Sheer she-ness. Just a Walkers crisp of a bit longer. It is possible, I might add, She’ll appear a fraction different To what one can reasonably be expected to remember. Good! I’m good. That is how it is said, in these parts, isn’t it? Are you good? Are you… Competent? Up to the task, I mean. Fit to fly. Work-ready. Which sort? Wearing odd socks, again. Accentuate the good. Try to. Left and right; or the other way around: Right and left. Or could be both… fancy that! Cream and chocolate, hey, superb! Today is a wooly-hat-kind-of-a-day day, is it not? Prepare for the worst and hope for the best. Lest there be gales. What? No! Disaster! Now, wouldn’t that be… Wouldn’t that scupper things? Do you think not? I love my wooly hat. He’s got a name, you know. Ru-pert. Stitched with love. Pompom-topped. So warm, it is. Ready for jaunts. With Rupert. Up Horsenden Hill. Too hot, soon. Best to toss it in the bushes. ------- Perhaps I am under-dressed? Am I? Hard to know. I’ll wear my bow tie again. Yes, I’ll wear my bow tie when, that is to say, Assuming The rules permit it. God permits us To revel a bit. Kick back. Do you think God likes to laugh? God, grant me the gift to laugh. ------- Oh, Now, Did you hear that? Heating broken, Not a peep. Closed valve cylinder, limited warranty, Manual unfathomable. But, No viable option. ‘Northfields Community Library Welcomes You.’ The toilets better be warm!

0

Jan 14, 2022

Jan 14, 2022 at 6:02 PM UTC

simon-piesse

On a Friday after Christmas

Today, I’m well. Yes. Good. I’m good, I should say. God? God, no! Good God! Good. Up-welling of wellness. Bow tied: A bow-tie-kind-of-day day. Sun furtive. Won’t be long. Shouldn’t expect she’ll be long. Yes, she. Ephemeral. Resplendent. Sheer she-ness. Just a Walkers crisp of a bit longer. It is possible, I might add, She’ll appear a fraction different To what one can reasonably be expected to remember. Good! I’m good. That is how it is said, in these parts, isn’t it? Are you good? Are you… Competent? Up to the task, I mean. Fit to fly. Work-ready. Which sort? Wearing odd socks, again. Accentuate the good. Try to. Left and right; or the other way around: Right and left. Or could be both… fancy that! Cream and chocolate, hey, superb! Today is a wooly-hat-kind-of-a-day day, is it not? Prepare for the worst and hope for the best. Lest there be gales. What? No! Disaster! Now, wouldn’t that be… Wouldn’t that scupper things? Do you think not? I love my wooly hat. He’s got a name, you know. Ru-pert. Stitched with love. Pompom-topped. So warm, it is. Ready for jaunts. With Rupert. Up Horsenden Hill. Too hot, soon. Best to toss it in the bushes. ------- Perhaps I am under-dressed? Am I? Hard to know. I’ll wear my bow tie again. Yes, I’ll wear my bow tie when, that is to say, Assuming The rules permit it. God permits us To revel a bit. Kick back. Do you think God likes to laugh? God, grant me the gift to laugh. ------- Oh, Now, Did you hear that? Heating broken, Not a peep. Closed valve cylinder, limited warranty, Manual unfathomable. But, No viable option. ‘Northfields Community Library Welcomes You.’ The toilets better be warm!

80

We weren't ally movies, cigarette people, gawking at a late night phone call. Humbled at cathedral train stops, twitching for their next fix. We weren't tidy enzymes, dieting hitchhikers, Einstein drag queens and old boyfriend photographs, generation universities, alcoholic planners, *** breath. We weren't Godly student coffee drinkers, mother machines abdominal on speed, delighted in poverty and splendor paperwork, We weren't high-school bathroom *** ***** sheets, glamorous handcuff hunger, waxy TODAY show hosts, We weren't pompom mutts, Underclass DNA and angsty pin-ups, We weren't back hand world, no money, Clinical musicians, and upper East side Jesus, Harvard waitresses and empty notebooks, poets on crank and speed, We were All ******* Up

0

Oct 13, 2015

Oct 13, 2015 at 8:54 AM UTC

Jean-Sullivan

All ******* Up

We weren't ally movies, cigarette people, gawking at a late night phone call. Humbled at cathedral train stops, twitching for their next fix. We weren't tidy enzymes, dieting hitchhikers, Einstein drag queens and old boyfriend photographs, generation universities, alcoholic planners, *** breath. We weren't Godly student coffee drinkers, mother machines abdominal on speed, delighted in poverty and splendor paperwork, We weren't high-school bathroom *** ***** sheets, glamorous handcuff hunger, waxy TODAY show hosts, We weren't pompom mutts, Underclass DNA and angsty pin-ups, We weren't back hand world, no money, Clinical musicians, and upper East side Jesus, Harvard waitresses and empty notebooks, poets on crank and speed, We were All ******* Up

19

*the title? it just means i took a **** and it felt as good as ultra homosexuality via transgender... or... whatever.* **why is ęś easier to pronounce than eś... or ęs? in bracket? well... it had to be kept in bracket... the counter optional was simply e.** the main point of this poem? i really don't know... i just like the way the word sounds / sings, to encounter my appreciation for it having a relevant counter expression. i can't believe i just wrote: i took a **** in the most eloquent way possible... seriously... it was a fudge hard expression of **** i think i started sneezing, or coughing while liberating this piece of **** it probably resembled something akin to gay *** it's like i wanted some, and then said: why is taking a **** so pleasurable?! can i hasve some more? in all honesty? the russians can't beat the expression - wysrałem się - i.e.: i just took a **** at this point, the russian language is pompom... boring... it's just... dangling... like a yoyo... tong... tong... tong... i can't believe i found a source of infectious laughter... hence i know my muse... and her cat's name? kickers... i know my muse.... i knew my muse since she was 14 / 13 / 12... i.e. i don't really remember the day it was: love at first sight. and that was in the year 2004... she's still a secret to most if not all people, and will remain so... but not to her elder sister... hmm... what a gratifying thought: it's like memorising certain things in my life as if in a crucible of pretence: that they didn't.

0

Apr 21, 2017

Apr 21, 2017 at 1:58 PM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

wysrałem si(ę) the ogonek is optional, hence encapsulated with bracket(s)

*the title? it just means i took a **** and it felt as good as ultra homosexuality via transgender... or... whatever.* **why is ęś easier to pronounce than eś... or ęs? in bracket? well... it had to be kept in bracket... the counter optional was simply e.** the main point of this poem? i really don't know... i just like the way the word sounds / sings, to encounter my appreciation for it having a relevant counter expression. i can't believe i just wrote: i took a **** in the most eloquent way possible... seriously... it was a fudge hard expression of **** i think i started sneezing, or coughing while liberating this piece of **** it probably resembled something akin to gay *** it's like i wanted some, and then said: why is taking a **** so pleasurable?! can i hasve some more? in all honesty? the russians can't beat the expression - wysrałem się - i.e.: i just took a **** at this point, the russian language is pompom... boring... it's just... dangling... like a yoyo... tong... tong... tong... i can't believe i found a source of infectious laughter... hence i know my muse... and her cat's name? kickers... i know my muse.... i knew my muse since she was 14 / 13 / 12... i.e. i don't really remember the day it was: love at first sight. and that was in the year 2004... she's still a secret to most if not all people, and will remain so... but not to her elder sister... hmm... what a gratifying thought: it's like memorising certain things in my life as if in a crucible of pretence: that they didn't.

44

ooh, but when you mention cultural violence, go right at the core with schismatic Islam of Iran, you suddenly encounter a ******* turtle-shell in the west, the west just says: we can sacrifice a few slugs rampant in their drunken wisdom - we can have a bomb in Paris... a London pompom craze for Venetian voodoo opening and closing the gateway to hell immediate... we just can't have a freedom of language! we can't have freedom of language! we can master freedom of speech, **** yeah! we can master that for sure... but we're sorta boggled up when we see writing and can't differentiate freedom of language from freedom of speech... esp. given the internet, it's mind-boggling, we're talking the theory of relativity here? i'm with the schismatics of Iran on this one... i'm no Homer... but i can sniff a dog's ******** of appreciation for licking them / saying them that is in full: concerto, rather than some: mm, i'm loving it child molestation: i swear! is swear! Cabaret Voltaire made me do it! they told me to rationalise them into eloquent speech... **** knows who the clown is... you bring him along? so, what, the, **** is, he, doing, in, our audience?! might as well asked the whole of Kremlin to bring their ****** shooting croons to intercept a bogus Basildon sex-text to smoke out the paedophiles of Westminster doing a river dance... but you know... you know... i've seen only three ballets... but you know what i'd really love to see? (pork snout humph snigger)... ballerinas doing the **** goose march... HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! i swear you could just tickle those feet up in the air fluttering like butterflies to do, just that.

0

Aug 13, 2016

Aug 13, 2016 at 8:12 PM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

Ballerinen Ganstreten

ooh, but when you mention cultural violence, go right at the core with schismatic Islam of Iran, you suddenly encounter a ******* turtle-shell in the west, the west just says: we can sacrifice a few slugs rampant in their drunken wisdom - we can have a bomb in Paris... a London pompom craze for Venetian voodoo opening and closing the gateway to hell immediate... we just can't have a freedom of language! we can't have freedom of language! we can master freedom of speech, **** yeah! we can master that for sure... but we're sorta boggled up when we see writing and can't differentiate freedom of language from freedom of speech... esp. given the internet, it's mind-boggling, we're talking the theory of relativity here? i'm with the schismatics of Iran on this one... i'm no Homer... but i can sniff a dog's ******** of appreciation for licking them / saying them that is in full: concerto, rather than some: mm, i'm loving it child molestation: i swear! is swear! Cabaret Voltaire made me do it! they told me to rationalise them into eloquent speech... **** knows who the clown is... you bring him along? so, what, the, **** is, he, doing, in, our audience?! might as well asked the whole of Kremlin to bring their ****** shooting croons to intercept a bogus Basildon sex-text to smoke out the paedophiles of Westminster doing a river dance... but you know... you know... i've seen only three ballets... but you know what i'd really love to see? (pork snout humph snigger)... ballerinas doing the **** goose march... HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! i swear you could just tickle those feet up in the air fluttering like butterflies to do, just that.

36