"pooh" poems
I know they're not
accurate.
The fact I frequent
creative results
may be
more or less
coincidental.
After all
who am I
compared to
Jon Stewart
or a Greek
philosopher?
But maybe
I don't care.
Maybe I take them
just for fun.
And who can complain
when they are compared
to Charizard
and Winnie the Pooh?
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 10:30 AM UTC
i want to hug you the way,
winnie the pooh hugs the piglet
Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 5:11 AM UTC
they shun
they eschew
they forget about me
they only want me
when they wish
to do
a pooh pooh
or wee ***
in me
Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 7:31 PM UTC
TRUMP
i never said a word about you because
would it be rude to call you an embarrassment?
you're everything i'm not and you're
everything i fear in a person but
tonight i thought about you and for the first time
since i blocked your number that night i was
supposed to come over i kind of maybe sort of
missed your touch but i didn't miss you
i loved you when you were inside of me but
could barely stand to be in the same room with you otherwise
you made my heart pound like a bad anxiety attack after
seeing your 47 in math and thinking woah i might not graduate
and realizing even worse: with a grade that low i'll never make it
to outer space (which means we'll be stuck on the same planet
forever no matter how hard i try to rid myself of you you will
always linger between the cracks in the sidewalks and broken
picket fences you are suburbia's biggest fear)
POOH
you taught me that lust never leads to love
and you stole my favourite book. i wonder
if you ever read it but you stopped talking to me
out of the blue, apparently i had done something wrong?
i mean,
that's a first
i dream about you more often than i'd like to admit
sometimes you drop in just to say hi but most of the time
you call me a ***** and tell me you wish i were dead but
no matter what you heard about me i swear to God i'm pure
or maybe God was right when he burned my skin alive and
watched me become ashes in the middle of nowhere with no one
around to hear me scream for help, have i sinned too much to be
let in to Heaven?
******
beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful
beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful
beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful
beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful
beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful
SIRIUS
history repeats and i've been stuck in this loop
since i can remember i fall in love with the same
person over and over again i fall in love with you
and you fall in love with him and i stop believing
in love all together but i fall in love with someone
else because they remind me of you and i hope you
think of me from time to time and miss me as much
as i miss you as i try to fall out of love but it never
works the way it worked so easily for you, first love
doesn't mean forever love because the first is never
the last and everyone said so but i was hoping that
maybe one day we'd get married in the garden down
the hill by your house that overlooked Lake Ontario
or the ocean as you liked to call it because you could
never distinguish the difference between blues
Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 2:05 AM UTC
I have a heart
made to adore
juvenile fantasies,
despite modern tragedies.
In moments of madness
when modern photography
presents to me
the horrors of humanity
I can engage for a minute
and escape the insanity
in the comics
that carry super hero forms.
When I see bombs
that blister skin
till flesh bursts
revealing red disfigurement
I can travel in
my own mental
compartment
to escape this.
I can revisit
Winnie the pooh
or review the crew
of “Star Trek
The Next Generation.”
When mind numbing poverty
rears its sad faces at me,
with stranger’s eyes
and thin lips quivering
in lonely desperation,
despite my empathy
I have a gift for escaping
the irrationality
of human suffering.
I just sip the soft brew
of nostalgia for old cartoons
recalling a slightly saner time,
when all the sorrows
were only mine,
when I ached
with a mother’s fury
but tv shows saw me distracted
the fact is
I have been escaping
my whole life,
and I don’t see
that changing.
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 10:30 AM UTC
*Integrity over Popularity
Mystique over Physique
Wisdom over Education
Spontaneous over Meticulous
Patience over Anxious
Peace over Pace
Grace over Face
Elation over Frustration
Spiritualism over Materialism
Honesty over Secrecy
Passion over Fashion
Honey over Money
Poetic over Pedantic
Relaxivity over Productivity
Attitude over Pulchritude
Gaiety over Propriety
Intuition over Sophistication
Intimacy over Privacy
Devotion over Ambition
&
Love over Everything*
~ For my best friend, Piglet <3 ~
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 6:19 PM UTC
Over the years, I taught so many classes
in many different schools,
long-term or short.
Hundreds and hundreds of students,
all ages, three to eighteen years old.
But how could I remember
all of them?
I was the teacher; they were there to learn.
Those were our roles; that was the contract.
They would move up and I move on, for all of us
always a new beginning.
But now and then
one will return to haunt me, like the girl
whose secret friend, Little Mister Hansford,
drove a tiny red plastic car.
I keep it now, in my drawer,
and remember.
The boy, his skin
flaking and cracked with eczema, trying to resist
the urge to scratch, but always failing.
How could he bear to wake each day to face that life?
Yet I was proud he claimed me for his brother;
On a school exchange visit,
an older girl, seventeen,
crossing the Alps in a coach,
moved beyond tears
by her first sight of real mountains.
Do they remember?
Maybe they do.
A young man I met by chance
one day on a Spanish street
surprised me by recalling
how I read Winnie-the-Pooh when he was small,
and did the animals in different voices.
So many children, so many years have gone,
but memories, like love, can linger on.
Jul 15, 2016
Jul 15, 2016 at 12:40 AM UTC
There is rutabaga, and ratatouille, gotta love alliteration
Then Albuquerque and Tallahassee, are somewhere in our nation
And Saskatoon, Saskatchewan found in Canada, my dear
In old colloquial, there were hooligans and shenanigans, I fear
At school I use a dongle it connects me to my work
I hope I didn't bumfuzzle you, didn't mean to be a ****
Just one more word on my short list and to see what it can do
Find the one you love and in sweet soft voice just turn and utter "pooh"
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 9:30 AM UTC
long time friend, don't lie
I can see you
your sincerest hour
when you come with tail between legs
there is pretext
lie about lies, stop stop
it don't matter
ascend disconnection
the whothewhatthewherethewhenthewhythe or the howthe
give no pooh-bah
Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 6:45 AM UTC
I want you
more than Plankton
wants the Krabby Patty secret formula.
I need you
more than Wile E. Coyote
needs functional ACME products.
I love you
more than the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles love pizza,
more than Winnie the Pooh loves honey,
more than Scooby-Doo loves Scooby Snacks.
Apr 18, 2011
Apr 18, 2011 at 2:43 PM UTC
When in the pasture
They don't offend;
We avert disaster,
When they're penned.
But that crusted crap
Is everywhere;
If not aware,
We step right in.
We'll scrape the pooh
To no avail,
The smell's
Stuck to our shoes.
We can't quell
The **** we're in.
There's one steaming
On my walk,
Leading to my door.
Leave your keys
When you leave,
That patty leads
To court.
The Internet's beset
With bullish threats;
Hard to miss
The patties here;
Our lives and much
That we hold dear,
Is shared and smeared
For all to read,
Milking us of privacy;
An abattoir,
It's piracy.
It's utterly insane.
They entice us,
Then enlist us,
Like leading
Cash cows
Down the lane;
Then tap
For one drop more.
Friends may offer
Cow pies
With an aromaticfluence;
They pressure you to choose:
Step right or left,
Then smear you with
Their cocksure ********
What enemy
Could do less?
Shopped pixelled patties
Are reprehensible,
Making one
So susceptible:
You *****
Then starve,
Then lose your hair
Until one day
You disappear.
We get caught up
In the flash,
Of all the stars
And fast cash,
But they have patties
Underfoot,
They slip and slide,
Get clean,
Then smirk.
We can smell'em
On those jerks.
There's a patty
At your boyfriend's place;
You're deep in it
If you're late.
There's a patty
At your girlfriend's place,
And you're deep in it
If she's late.
Some patties
Are so well disguised
In the colours
Of lover's eyes.
Intoned in lover's lures.
But step in it,
They call you *****
Some patties
Are good
At getting you high,
But one mis-step,
And you may die.
There's hidden patties
Lying within,
Crusted beneath
Veneered skin:
They waft with doubt,
Fear and longing;
Side-step that mass
At all costs.
Don't crack the surface.
You're better than
You think.
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 10:07 PM UTC
Dear Pooh Bear
I can never get over
The memory of your scent.
Never let me
Find you gone and
Just stay here until the end.
We have a dream
To pursue and achieve
For our cute next generation.
Feb 2, 2018
Feb 2, 2018 at 1:40 AM UTC
I got dumped on by a blue jay
While out sitting in my yard
The fact that I'm a Tigers fan
Made the bombing rather hard
I do not like the red birds
I mean, the team can't pitch or hit
But, I'm sure that if I pick on them
One will fly by me and ****
The Orioles, I do not like
I guess you've got the scoop
If I pick on them as well
One will fly by me and ****
There's a ball team down in Mexico
The parrots, to them I'll tip my cap
Because you know, if I 'dis them
One will fly overhead and crap
There are other teams named after birds
I don't know them all...do you?
So, I will let them off the hook
In case one comes by to pooh!
May 28, 2017
May 28, 2017 at 9:57 AM UTC
In psychology class the other day my professor said something that hit me. "When you think while your depressed, nothing clicks or makes sense. Your mind just feels like a cloud of cotton candy. The only thing that made sense to me at the time of my depression was Winnie the Pooh books." And this was the best explanation I could have ever heard.
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 10:00 PM UTC
This silly ol’ dance
This silly ol’ dance
This silly ol’ dance that’s perfect for two
What does that mean
What does it hide
Its like I’m trying to open up a closed-shut mind
I try and I try
But all I can get
Is this image of you and me I will never forget
I see it now and its never been more clear
An image of you and me and it brings a tear
Not a tear of pain
Nor a tear of joy
More a tear of hope
And it makes me smile inside
To know that you’ll always be there
Like this picture in my mind
To lift me up when I’m down and to humble me when I’m high
For that is what best friends do
And best friends is what we are
And as I think of this image and what it represents
More come to my head and they all begin to mesh
Into the most beautiful picture I have ever seen
It’s a picture of everything to me that you mean
It’s a picture of friendship
It’s a picture of love
It’s a picture of happiness
And all of the above
Are what you mean to me
And what I hope to mean to you
For you are my best friend
And lucky for us that is a dance that is perfect for two
So I’ll step lightly and you twirl around
If piglet and pooh can do it so can me and you
Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 8:47 PM UTC
Cycling past buisness girls on his way through Camden town
between towering grey buildings and tourists that frown
The lights turns to red and like a one legged man at the curb
he drifts off to a land that to some, seems absurb
Where honey-eyed tales of piglet and Pooh
are driven by toads tooting, **** **** poo
Peddling along the reeling, rolling,rambeling road some drunkard guy made
on famiular BBC air waves his voice often played
Through rich green ridings, wild moor and dales
2-50 stands the church clock that so sweetly never fails
Hatless on Ilkley, bathed and bathed in York
tea-time fancies at Harrogate, whilst watching like some Kes pearched hawk
Nodding and humming to sounds of the Brighouse and Rastric bands
and still finding time to paddle a little,
on sun drenched Gigglewick sands
Red turns to green as he wobbles and peddles away down Boris's yellow brick road
To Settel, for supper with
Raty
Mole
Badger
and Toad
Feb 25, 2011
Feb 25, 2011 at 8:59 AM UTC
Cadaverous crotchety gouged out eyes.
Scalped trite and malnourished minds.
Where am I? What has this land become?
My vessel is gutted galled and splayed out upon the enflamed remains of our democracy.
I try to embody the equanimity peaceful qualities of the lulling Gandhi characters before me...
But **** I am angry, jolted and saturated in shock in fear.
Being an advocate for the people so dismissively marginalized, is what brings substance to my life.
I look into the eyes of my mirthful clients and future students, my heart winces.
How did I allow this to happen to you?
A man who so boastfully incinerates and debased the citizens of our land with his farcical vitriol, is no man at all but merely an unsightly shrew, cozily cosseted in his world of soot and pooh.
The bosky gorgeous land we inhabit sobs in noxious fright.
To be despoiled and berated as some "natural right" splintered and tainted to allow the green cash river flow into the dubious maw of the man with no dignity to show.
A man who preens such a degenerated mindset is only aptest to a society in shambles.
Our global haimish home yearns for the equilibrium from which it was born.
In such a seeded tumultuous time my heart is seeped in reverberating sorrow.
Let your love and purity coat your vessel, do not let this barbaric man permeate your soul.
Hold steadfast to the testament of our land
True revolution is budded from a web of genuine connection, not devise brandished weapons.
Don't shroud yourself in misery, break free and be prepared to encite love with your authenticity.
Nov 9, 2016
Nov 9, 2016 at 1:57 AM UTC
Le-YAND-de-ska nor E' des ke'
Noor-eil-to-DOE-do keel EH DOOR TE'
Te' oor! Te' OOR! Ma-OOR-de-te'!
Keel-oo-de SKA noor ahn de' TAH- de'
Pooh-EH-nes-yel-ta-do
Ne-EST-TA DE' ?!!!
Le-END-de-SKA noor E'ND de TAH-de
~~~♡< TRANSLATION >♡~~~
I am the Lord Jesus Christ.
I am using this weak vessel to speak.
She is afraid of your
judgement
but more concerned about
doing My Father's will
I LOVE YOU!
DO YOU NOT KNOW THAT?!!!
I LOVE YOU !!!
Though you do not hear
Be still. Listen.
And know that I am
GOD
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 12:42 PM UTC
Jack ropes and merriopes
In solicitous rhyme in fer derilious velope
envy implicitous insectuaryan harridannous
Ensole brodequins forbearing to lace
Trace elements of that remaining empoisonous
For failure interred
Is succes disinterred? And if so, form where?
Where derinferred strands failure unerred
By error masked muscovado coloured Breadth
Pneumonic, perhaps caustically mate
Aerial’d on the glib side of acoustical elimination
Veritable under pooh stick discrimination
Matte clouds of drab depression ove in
An area of low pressure
According to yon hypothalamic forecaster. Core has ter
Fail lently viola lapidavitious stretch so she as
fer ter rousse fer ter kamuskova. An epic
Scribbled on der calen.
Sole of brevity then being approximately an inch and a
Bit minus that
Torrent all yendergelpin cleaving
The very schism wit! It cynicism
Be as may be a pea, no spelling bee entrusted
Where? In there? In that jumble of line?
Barely knows his lime from his rhyme, or indeed
Lime from lime.
He’s just trying to fill up that calendrous space
And make some sense of it.
Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 3:19 PM UTC
After all the studies,
After all the responsibilities,
After all the love for my Parents,
After all the Good Night wishes,
Here I am.
Lying beside my Pooh; the teddy.
Talking to him about how my day gone,
Telling him about the messed up things,
Telling him about the love I miss from my dad,
Telling him about the care I miss from him,
Telling him how I used to rush when he come,
About how he tolerate my talkings,
About how much I love him.
Sob and Sob
I never know when I slept these days and woke up with my alarm clock.
Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 4:18 PM UTC
I have never had much luck with love. Explanations only skim the surface of the sea. Always caught up on the hooks at the end of your line.
You tug on the spool and play with your food. Just reel me in. A wish on a dandelion, I get blown to the wind.
Piglet and Pooh, sweet is the honey we are destined to lose. I send kisses through the door you scream at me through.
Flourish and wither like the wrinkled crease down the heart of our family picture. Dice with the devil, cee-lo with evil. Paranoia through the peephole. High on her ego.
Jun 1, 2021
Jun 1, 2021 at 12:56 AM UTC
Eeyore the Dr. Ignorant,
Winnie the Pooh, ambulant,
On a walk in the woods,
Are they up to no good?
Winnie does say,
In his happiest way,
"Buzz, Buzz, buzz,
I wonder where the birdies was?
Whoops, in my eye, birdie's blip!
I guess that's what you call a gift! "
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 4:36 PM UTC
Last night I had an unusual dream,
But not the type that would make you scream.
I dreamt I was eaten by a large dog beast,
It must have thought me part of a feast.
From inside its mouth I had a friend on my shoulder
He was clever and helpful, and I felt bolder.
He told me to avoid the sphincter muscles,
Should I wish to emerge with minimum tussles.
Instruction said that the safest way through
Was to be forced out while inside a pooh.
After kicking my way out of the crusty ****
I woke up and thought that was ****** absurd.
May 11, 2010
May 11, 2010 at 6:58 AM UTC
I wonder where I was all those years ago
Not a twinkle in a soldier’s eye
Nor the girl who took the guides
To them I became a surprise.
I lay down on grasses green
With Pooh and Eeyore
In Hundred Acre Wood
Hope Eeyore has his balloon.
In my mother’s bookcase
Is where I would be born
In the names of wildflowers
And the songs of the birds.
My father’s walks in London Town
Hyde Park Corner, The Serpentine,
Visits to family in Chester Road.
This is where I would learn to know.
All those years ago I never knew
Who I might be coming to
But never was there a single regret
The couple that loved me were the best.
Love Mary ***
Jul 5, 2018
Jul 5, 2018 at 3:01 PM UTC