"queenie" poems
it takes guts
to run red into
the sun
it takes guts
to mollify
me
I write you
poems
to watch myself
divide
I write you
poems
to watch my
purple go
run red into
the sun
run red
cowgirl
queenie
it takes guts
to march into
the sun
It takes guts
to mollify
me
I wonder what
you’re thinking
I wonder if you
want to watch
my purple go
I write you
poems to
watch myself
divide
I write you
poems
to run red
red cowgirl
queenie
I love you
more
I love you
red run
into the sun
I write you
poems to
watch myself
divide
I write you
poems to
watch my
purple go
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 7:46 PM UTC
I'm not fooled, though you've my attention
time you were schooled
given detention
you're dropping each line... fumbling each word
but that's fine
you're running scared--
give it up hand back the crown
cause queenie this jester put you DOWN
chucks my boy I've got his back
you've been derailed =========== you're way off track
here's a tissue wipe your eyes
cause these words like Embers never Dies
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 9:35 PM UTC
Will he buy you chocolates?
Will he buy you flowers?
Will he put your pleasure first
and worship you for hours?
Will he listen patiently?
And will he understand?
Will he still be there for you
when things get out of hand?
Will he be your everything?
Will he be your best friend?
When you're not feeling yourself
will he comprehend?
Will you be his Goddess?
Will you be his Queenie?
Will he write you love letters
and spicy poetry?
Will he let you vent to him?
Will he be there for you?
Will he always treat you right,
will he always love you?
Will he buy you chocolates?
Will he bring you bouquets?
Will he take good care of you
every single day?
Jun 20, 2023
Jun 20, 2023 at 11:24 PM UTC
Abbie hailed a yellow top cabbie
Brenda had a sister in-law named Glenda
Cate ran late on her first date
Delly ate seven bowls of lemon jelly
Edwina drove to the town of Catalina
Fran burnt her finger on the very hot frying pan
Gwen had a strong yen to go and see her aunty Jen
Hope bought her husband a towing rope
Isobel fell under the magician's spell
Joann took her mother on a holiday in a caravan
Kylie went to the dentist with her brother Wylie
Lesley liked listening to Elvis Presley
Marcia enjoyed eating a freshly baked focaccia
Nell saw a turtle coming out of his shell
Olga lived at the top end of the river Volga
Primrose had a Pinocchio nose
Queenie knitted a multicolored beanie
Ruth could never tell the whole truth
Stacey loved playing dress ups with her friend Tracey
Tilly behavior was always rather silly
Una bought a house in the suburb of Yagonna
Verity wanted to be a well known celebrity
Winifred never stopped taking about Alfred
Xena was presented with a court subpoena
Yale told her teacher a tall tale
Zealand ventured out into the bushland
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 8:30 AM UTC
This is a verse, not a song,
Let's gaze on the face of Agamemnon,
For ten years, he had stayed away,
Finally, he arrived home one day,
Yes, away to Troy he'd roamed,
The warrior king made it home,
But, he had been playing away,
His Queenie had a bad hair day,
Her axe did have a double blade,
As in her spa, she made him lay,
She drugged his wine, a loving cup,
Then proceeded to chop him up!
Off with his feet, for roaming so far,
Queenie really messed up her spa,
Off with his cheating hands,
He brought home ho's from foreign lands,
Off with his attachments,
You can guess what that meant,
Shoved them in his mouth,
as his head went south,
"Feed him to the swine!
It's pig feeding time!"
She yelled at the serfs!
"That cheating dud got his desserts!"
Queenie was having a bad hair day,
Warrior king had been playing away,
But, Queenie had a toyboy anyway,
She always kept smiling,
Looked for the silver lining,
Queenie's wealth was a'piling,
She was a keeper,
Old king now a sleeper,
Queen kept the kids, gold and slaves,
She did get hers one day,
Yes, Queenie kept the lot,
Or was it all a plot?
Queenie's bad hair day,
Warrior king had been playing away,
This is verse, not a song,
Let's gaze at the face of Agamemnon.
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 4:21 PM UTC
So tell me,
cause I'm sick of
wondering.
Are
you
ready
to wake-up
alive?
Or am I going to
eating your cake
alone.
For the fifth year
running.
Anyways.
Happy Birthday.
Queenie Belle,
you'd be 46 this year.
Jun 1, 2012
Jun 1, 2012 at 12:23 AM UTC
***** ***** in denim
They cut your heart when you let them
Those ***** *****
Da da da da der *****
***** *****
Da da da da der *****
Now Karen was a cutie
Had her man and a *****
She kissed her man off
And then he beat her
She found a girlfriend
They went to heaven
Because those ***** ***** in denim
Rip your thing when you let them
Those ***** *****
Da da da da der *****
***** *****
Da da da da der *****
Now Donna was a queenie
She licked her way to the fifties
She found a woman who had a plastic
Way up inside her
It was fantastic
She loved those ***** ***** in denim
They'll turn you on if you can catch one
Those ***** *****
Da da da da der *****
***** *****
Da da da da der *****
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 5:17 PM UTC
Chess in the
afternoon sun.
Jazz floats over
the silky couch.
Backs ache, while
hearts break.
Bishop takes knight,
and France falls again.
The masks are all
broken under the
cerulean blue skies,
while she eats berries,
and smiles in her
pink polka dot dress.
The pawns are all smug,
and queenie's on the rag.
Italy surrenders, and from
the grave, Charlie Parker
still hammers home
those soft amber notes.
I can smell her heat, and
I think they play
Jazz in hell.
Feb 27, 2021
Feb 27, 2021 at 12:12 PM UTC
The Queen and Princess Treacle
were sitting in the bath
The Queen let off a raspberry
while Princess Treacle laughed
The Princess dropped a hot one
the bubbles like perfume...
the Queen was quite disgusted
and stormed out of the room...
Treacle was quite perplexed
so laughed a little more
'til Queenie shouted oh so loud;
' You filthy royal ***** '
Treacle released a sinister laugh
a ***** she might be...
Yet Philip didn't seem to mind
removing her dungerees
he done her in the palace gardens
late one summer's night
Treacle was but a young lesbian
but he sorted her out alright
As Treacle's secret garden doors were
opened, under the light of the moon...
Queenie did bellow for her corgis
searching from room to room...
but all she found was Philip
shafting Treacle on the lawn
so they had a royal *********
then watched some German ****
Nov 11, 2010
Nov 11, 2010 at 3:14 PM UTC
Audrey, look out the window and see your dreams.
Brydie, lay on the carpet and think of home.
Charlie, stand in the garden and let the rain wash the pain away.
Danielle, shout at the skies for this awful weather.
Ellen, smile as you see a rainbow in the distance.
Fiona, stick out your tongue to soften their fall.
Gemma, pretend there's nothing falling from the sky.
Hannah, dance in the rain in that favourite dress of yours.
Imogen, jump into puddles, one after the other.
Jade, wave to the people going past in their cars.
Keri, open your hands to cup the cold water.
Laura, laugh as the neighbour's umbrella turns inside out.
Molly, hope the grass is better for football tomorrow.
Natasha, sigh as you drive through it all.
Olivia, read a book by the nice warm fire.
Paige, sleep through the hammering of the droplets.
Queenie, scream as you dash through the storm.
Rhianne, fall back onto that squishy armchair inside.
Steph, pray for the sun to come out soon.
Tuula, watch the leaves huddle against the kerb.
Una, listen as they patter patter on the rooftop.
Victoria, take off those sodden shoes.
Whitney, snap another photograph or two.
Xandra, run to get back home to your family.
Yasmeen, follow the trail of the water on the window.
Zara, give up waiting for the rain to stop.
Mar 8, 2012
Mar 8, 2012 at 7:01 AM UTC
Its time to get your shoes on
to dance the day away
Its time to wave the flag
to celebrate OK
Tis 60 years to celebrate
Queens diamond jubilee
Amazing thats she's done it
such total respect I please
Yeah sure we've had some bad times
and memories to have missed
Yet still she is our head of state
and stronger than a brick
So your majesty ..in your honour
this ditty is for you
because you are our Queenie
Our nation loves you ..loves you do
May 26, 2012
May 26, 2012 at 3:30 PM UTC
Now her hands are empty
not a ring or a bracelet
bare as God made them
and I wonder
really, I thought that was so cute
Queenie blushes
just a brush of sunburn
it's a real **** affair
This struck me as funny
that makes no difference
with a big summer colony out on the Point
women mapping their legs
I began to feel sorry for them
they couldn't help it
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 3:25 AM UTC
“Words fall short ever in my heart,
Lines from my lips really fails to start,
When I try to pen you with, lexicon’s art.
Rhymes are scattered all in the sky,
Like a fleet of scurrilous beautiful butterflies,
To comprehend you but, I do not qualify.
Hours now my canvas is unspoken,
Scribbled your name just as a token,
Only to realize then, your name in itself, is a poem.”
Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 2:18 PM UTC
Thine distinction between thou and me oh man is,
Thou would call her thy rose,
I would call her mine queen!!!
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 6:49 PM UTC
Some call me a savage,
a bit of a lady ravisher,
but actually
I'm a bloodthirsty pirate,
a bearded buccaneer
by trade.
I plunder & I pillage,
but never do I ****
I just soothe you
by kissing the sweet-nape
of your delicate neck
& believe me Queenie,
it'll make you move rather quick,
when I swallow your drip.
You'll want me,
beg me to raid
your pretty ship
again & again,
take all of your precious *****
My parrot will laugh
at my various quips
& don't be alarmed,
there's nothing nefarious
about my peg leg,
'cause it's hollow,
it's where I hide
the golden loot.
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 4:05 PM UTC
Does Queenie love Kingman?
Give it windfury.
Be my magnetic field.
The king and queen are but constructs
Roles they are forced into
Coercion. Co-optation. Join us
Tell us what to think
Tell us - tell them - how to love.
I won't listen as fully as the rest
I make my own definitions.
Succotash. Ketchup. Gluten.
Someone forgot the curds
Mark my words, Gilbert
The bras and kets will multiply tonight
Let's be a scalar
Let's make some sense of
the abstractions
Only
to
be
broken
again?
I crave not sense
I crave the electromagnetic field
Sense is the king
I want the prince
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 6:52 PM UTC
Amber was an atheist,
she thought the world was dumb as hell.
Britney was a botanist,
who had a fertilizer smell.
Candice was a coroner,
a scary passion for the stiffs.
Diana was a drummer chick,
that knew a few guitar riffs.
Evelyn was evil, man,
all leather suits and chains and whips.
Farrah was a therapist,
got in my brain with swinging hips.
Greta was a gunslinger,
she'd give most anything a shot.
Hannah was a homebody-
shy as hell, but twice as hot.
Iris was an Ivy Leaguer,
thought I was a total fool.
Janice was a juggler,
who liked to play with power tools.
Kimmy taught karate,
who dated me just for the kicks.
Louise was a lyricist,
who wrote about how guys were *****
Marilyn was mostly mean,
she liked to fight and then make up.
Nancy was so negative,
I had no choice but to break up.
Opal was an occultist,
who liked to gossip with the dead.
Paula was a **********
that made me pay to come to bed.
Queenie was inquisitive,
the questions were too much to bear.
Rosie was a recluse
who never shaved or brushed her hair.
Sidney was a sinful sort,
with toys and gadgets 'neath the bed.
Tina was a twisted chick,
with thirteen voices in her head.
Ursula was uber-cool,
always on the latest trends.
Vicky was on Vicodin,
and we all know how that one ends.
Wanda was a wanderer,
that left to join a circus troupe.
Xena the exhibitionist
liked to do it on the stoop.
Yolanda was young and fine,
and nearly cost me everything.
Zoey was a Zombie fan,
she got hot when he would sing.
I'd like to say I've settled down,
but since the alphabet is done,
I'm gonna met an Ann or Anita,
and give it all another run.
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 5:19 AM UTC
Lovely queenie
She is so smart she calls me up when I am down always yells at me orders me around
bosses me to move puts me in my place takes no crap from me slaps me cold then laughs at my face!
Lovely Queenie
Impetuous meanie
Drove her tires across my feet
Drives me wild my heart skips a beat...
When she's not here I lose my mind cause I think of her most all the time
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 5:38 AM UTC
pleasure flowin'
with blue skies full of cigarette smoke.
puff. feeding the king,
make sure she's full
'cuz she's going higher.
not enough for me.
time out, clock spinnin'
like a skyrise,
cracking from its own demise.
queenie chuckles precociously
and the diamonds embedded on her tongue [staccato]
turn to tar.
i would **** for silence.
i smother her with a pillow.
she touched me there,
on the cheek. [accelerate]
i saw her wrinkles turn to corn stalks
and i looked away.
i was always wantin' that pleasure.
my release was at the bottom of stale marlboro lights.
where is QUEENie?
now i wonder where we land
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 4:46 PM UTC
;;;;;; ;;;;;;
// • ||
<>
She my love moves
across the dawn
DO NOT DIE -- no
•
•
We are beyond
The wild free evening and the gentle song
•
Mothers weep
• •
Child be strong
This the first day of the fire
•
We have been assigned the role of slave
••
In the subtle evening we shall escape
Where we are going ?
WHO KNOWS
•
We cannot stay here one more day
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 6:09 PM UTC
I am heavily burdened.
My spirit is so gloomy within.
No one is to dine with me;
To dine with this agony!
Oh, I am so doleful!
Who shall encourage, comfort and console?
Who shall hear this boisterous grief?
Shall I expect nobody to cause me relief?
Joy! Oh, why did you leave?
And stole the gaiety like a theft?
In misfortune, now I am alone.
Solitude! In where I was abandoned.
This overwhelming despair!
Oh, I can bear it no further.
Run! I wanna run from this sorrow.
Die! The escape from the dolor of tomorrow.
If living is to cause me pain,
Better to lie in the coffin.
Farewell, Mishap, my good friend;
In the grave, misery and agony, will now end.
By Queenie Florentino
October 10, 2013
Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 10:32 AM UTC
Dancing faces in a crowd
but it had to be you
cuddling the light from dark
affording serenity
(chase a star catch a cloud)
We are everything positive
because we are in the making
Fulham Queenie
cast your shawl
winning her bid
for a Croydonite
no more uncertainties
Aug 2, 2021
Aug 2, 2021 at 2:45 PM UTC
The sun sneaky sun run away in disguise and this guy's looking out, but no sun in the skies which are greystone
my eyes are the same.
I blame this ennui on my local MP who's as much use as a cork on the Titanic, he can talk of the energy crisis, but I have one of my own.
It's not fair that his hot air is wasted, it's not right that I don't have a bean or a light for the night.
it's unseemly that Queenie has billions and there's people that sleep on the street and no wonder the sun doesn't rise in the West when we're past our best and the wrapping's undone and who'd want to meet us in the streets of the potless? it's pointless but sharp all the same
The sun sneaky sun
somehow ceased to be fun
someone give me a gun,
bang.
Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 3:48 AM UTC
*populist poets... you 'erd 'em? young girls donning pissy pants... they think populism is a "revelation" of reciting pop media... how about the linguo my pretty dear? how about the lexicon my prettiest of dears?! you integrated to the point of surprising the locals with their own idiosyncrasy? no... get's the vote! ha ha ha... n'ah, just kidding... throw 'em overboard! populism, what a horrendous word.. it should be digested with a gall-bloom of absinthe... populism is one thing, then another when it just plagiarises today's-i.e.-being-yesterday's-news tosh: and me just bought me a ferrari, gearing up for: a major twist in the whole tale, the spoken word of the hero of the tale: a mustard gas **** i'm not even aiming to be funny, first of all i know that i'm not funny, second of all i know i'm pathetic... wishing i played the banjo at an irish jig or a bagpiperpipipipe pict kaylee.*
ah, poor, queenie - there she is again,
her face on a fiver, a tenner &
the twinkle toe twenty banknote,
is like a face of a "celebrity"
pawn on the headline page of
a tabloid newspaper -
given the rich, given the poor,
her face on a banknote has become
just as much as a "celebrity"
on a tabloid newspaper -
given the rich, given the poor -
ornamental, and sometimes,
if begging for "writing material":
a shit-smeared toss-off;
my my, i have to add,
isn't the concept of money a jesus
quote and pontius pilate's gesture?
i wash my hands clean!
give due to caesar, separate to
the dues unto god...
well... here's my abel's share of
"concern" (english existentialism
should have mentioned the inverted
commas as: too lazy to look up
a thesaurus entry) -
**** me, that's yard irish;
well... better sink with the rats,
than swim among the sharks me says,
at least we gets our nibbles,
on the way down!
now i'm real gnashing my teeth
to excite the frickin' appetite!
Sep 21, 2017
Sep 21, 2017 at 8:21 PM UTC
when a cashier breaks ranks,
and she exposes all the customer is always right
********
when you bid her goodnight and
she turns, all fear and loathing in las vegas
face of forced politeness -
a face that looks more like a hallucination
than expressing the calm of repeating
the endless android-like no-problems boss:
the customer is always right...
it's like on this Ford-style conveyor belt,
being assembled for nothing other than
a death...
bought the Bacardi *** and the Japanese
beer.. stumbled...
some kinds of ciders make you peckish,
but this wasn't the 8.2% cider...
went back and looked for a tube of
Pringles (salt & vinegar)...
walk home eating about 3/4 of the tube...
just thinking about the face i just saw...
10 minutes from closing time...
and what happens when you undermine
the impersonal relation between a supermarket
cashier and the shopper...
and groove into the personal relation between
a supermarket cashier and the shopper...
elsewhere it's the obvious polarization,
the: high-ground, the middle-ground...
and then the trenches of arguments...
plus... i haven't eaten crisps in a long time...
that's what a seasonal-based diet does to you...
strawberries? in December?!
what?!
apples in the middle of summer?!
what?!
well... i almost forgot how decent
pitchshifter's album deviant was...
back in the day... rumors of being banned
and what not... well... whatever happened
with that band... sure as **** happened...
maybe the whole Queenie Liz the II
and Johnnie Papa Paul the II cover did it back
then...
culturally speaking...
back in the *** Pistols decade?
you could get away with
anything, things were stagnant or at least plateau
on the Norman side of events.
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 6:19 PM UTC