"smarted" poems - Hello Poetry

I was young and you were old you were shy And I was bold I stared at you you smiled twice I made my bet you rolled the dice I came to you you felt my smell I stole a kiss You fell under my spell I was a brat You had no aim I was an ace You had no game I had fun You had too I'm leaving soon You're feeling blue And so it ends what never started in the game of love you've been out smarted

0

Jan 29, 2015

Jan 29, 2015 at 4:11 AM UTC

maddox-von-herzog

A Cougar game

I was young and you were old you were shy And I was bold I stared at you you smiled twice I made my bet you rolled the dice I came to you you felt my smell I stole a kiss You fell under my spell I was a brat You had no aim I was an ace You had no game I had fun You had too I'm leaving soon You're feeling blue And so it ends what never started in the game of love you've been out smarted

24

I've been drawing A blank Dwelling in this So called Conundrum Only giving Half hearted gestures, Forsaking all others I've deliberately Out smarted All the details Lost in time Jittery On every Steamy day The remedy Never lies In the score book, Or with Criminal instincts, Not even The crooked Cab drivers So I'll wander In these Unvarnished Chocolate covered Nightmares I'll hide Under the Stairs Where spiritualistic, Speakeasy Behavior Only leaves You Killed or injured A whirl Of such discovery And you Will finally See It's mostly people Who cause This kind of Unease

0

Aug 12, 2013

Aug 12, 2013 at 12:55 PM UTC

hannah-elisabeth-johnston

Mountain morons

I've been drawing A blank Dwelling in this So called Conundrum Only giving Half hearted gestures, Forsaking all others I've deliberately Out smarted All the details Lost in time Jittery On every Steamy day The remedy Never lies In the score book, Or with Criminal instincts, Not even The crooked Cab drivers So I'll wander In these Unvarnished Chocolate covered Nightmares I'll hide Under the Stairs Where spiritualistic, Speakeasy Behavior Only leaves You Killed or injured A whirl Of such discovery And you Will finally See It's mostly people Who cause This kind of Unease

46

with tobacco sitting open in dusty papers on our kitchen table, still warm from the glow on your mint and cedar skin, and with the sky cloudy and quiet in our window, you kissed my crooked mouth like the ghost hand that held the door open for you. Heartache is an actor, mumbling his soliloquy on the wide empty stage of my tongue while the people in the back complain that they can't hear. when people speak of a love not returned, if you're lucky, you can still hear a thin warm ribbon of blood wrapping around teeth, almost undetectable, and the name hangs heavy in the room like silver tinsel after christmas if the still oozes hot, black heartache or else it is a wound that has scabbed over. the lover is left lying like a ribbed dog on a dry path, summer's dust coating organs and throats purple and bruised, church bells ringing through tall grass. but you heard every word that Heartache was saying. you smarted away from me, as if I had bitten you. I think maybe you could taste all of this war waging among the rafters in the high ceilings of my mouth. and all I could taste was copper pennies for months after you left.

0

Oct 5, 2015

Oct 5, 2015 at 12:45 PM UTC

haven-collie

heartache is an actor

with tobacco sitting open in dusty papers on our kitchen table, still warm from the glow on your mint and cedar skin, and with the sky cloudy and quiet in our window, you kissed my crooked mouth like the ghost hand that held the door open for you. Heartache is an actor, mumbling his soliloquy on the wide empty stage of my tongue while the people in the back complain that they can't hear. when people speak of a love not returned, if you're lucky, you can still hear a thin warm ribbon of blood wrapping around teeth, almost undetectable, and the name hangs heavy in the room like silver tinsel after christmas if the still oozes hot, black heartache or else it is a wound that has scabbed over. the lover is left lying like a ribbed dog on a dry path, summer's dust coating organs and throats purple and bruised, church bells ringing through tall grass. but you heard every word that Heartache was saying. you smarted away from me, as if I had bitten you. I think maybe you could taste all of this war waging among the rafters in the high ceilings of my mouth. and all I could taste was copper pennies for months after you left.

33

As a young child I would awaked from my mid-day nap to the glorious smell of fresh home-baked cookies, not the premade out of the tube crap ... the real deal made by mom Was I dreaming of her awesome soft baked chocolate chips, the classic sugar cookie or the peanut butter thumb print No matter... I was good with anything produced by her hand Sneaking down the stairs to the kitchen I follow my nose to discover nothing but aroma Mixing bowls are all cleaned and no sign of any used baking sheet First instinct is to climb the cabinet and search the old hiding spot to no avail, she has out smarted me yet again in concealing evidence No jar is left probing by my best Sherlock Holmes investigation the HIDDEN COOKIE JAM will not outwit me again and again I will seek you until I find you then I will lay waste to you like Cookie Monster had his way on Sesame Street.

0

Jul 12, 2016

Jul 12, 2016 at 6:14 AM UTC

allen-robinson

HIDDEN COOKIE JAR

As a young child I would awaked from my mid-day nap to the glorious smell of fresh home-baked cookies, not the premade out of the tube crap ... the real deal made by mom Was I dreaming of her awesome soft baked chocolate chips, the classic sugar cookie or the peanut butter thumb print No matter... I was good with anything produced by her hand Sneaking down the stairs to the kitchen I follow my nose to discover nothing but aroma Mixing bowls are all cleaned and no sign of any used baking sheet First instinct is to climb the cabinet and search the old hiding spot to no avail, she has out smarted me yet again in concealing evidence No jar is left probing by my best Sherlock Holmes investigation the HIDDEN COOKIE JAM will not outwit me again and again I will seek you until I find you then I will lay waste to you like Cookie Monster had his way on Sesame Street.

29

Dear Andy, Thank you and Goodbye. 2/24/11 A deep tiresome passion has been building up inside me, And it’s been two months and six days since I last saw you. At the beach is where I’ll find you and is where I soon will be. We’ll see each other and I’ll recover because you’ll be next to me. Soft and smooth are your curly brown locks, And sweet and luscious are your round small lips. The scent of you with all your letters in my little green box, Now I see your green eyes and feel your warm finger tips. Slow and seductive are the long whispers I keep, And it’s your voice I hear daily with little hope. In my dreams is where I’ll find you as I fall into sleep, And in the sunset we do paddle in the swan love boat. 2/27/11 The sand is in between the keyboard keys and caked onto my knees, With a glass of wine at ten thirty in the morning I sit only broken hearted A night together on the beach I had planned for two months, but you lied to me All a lie, you scammed me how could I have been out smarted. Lying together all day, and drinking late into night, Only to crawl to the twin bed in the early hours of the morning. You’d caress me as I sleep and hold me until awoken by sunlight. Soon you must leave to go home, but I will visit soon and bring you loving. Two months have passed and most days we’ve spoken, But it seems now another girl found her way into the picture. Without a word you have lured me here only to leave me broken. You praise her and I watch just like a permanent wall fixture. Thanks for the lies, and all the wasted time. This is the end of the all the extra feelings. My life is taking a rapid U-turn without you in line. Please enjoy her company while I stand here dying. Sincerely, Sofi Lilly

0

Feb 27, 2011

Feb 27, 2011 at 6:39 AM UTC

lilly-bug

Dear Andy, Thank you and Goodbye

Dear Andy, Thank you and Goodbye. 2/24/11 A deep tiresome passion has been building up inside me, And it’s been two months and six days since I last saw you. At the beach is where I’ll find you and is where I soon will be. We’ll see each other and I’ll recover because you’ll be next to me. Soft and smooth are your curly brown locks, And sweet and luscious are your round small lips. The scent of you with all your letters in my little green box, Now I see your green eyes and feel your warm finger tips. Slow and seductive are the long whispers I keep, And it’s your voice I hear daily with little hope. In my dreams is where I’ll find you as I fall into sleep, And in the sunset we do paddle in the swan love boat. 2/27/11 The sand is in between the keyboard keys and caked onto my knees, With a glass of wine at ten thirty in the morning I sit only broken hearted A night together on the beach I had planned for two months, but you lied to me All a lie, you scammed me how could I have been out smarted. Lying together all day, and drinking late into night, Only to crawl to the twin bed in the early hours of the morning. You’d caress me as I sleep and hold me until awoken by sunlight. Soon you must leave to go home, but I will visit soon and bring you loving. Two months have passed and most days we’ve spoken, But it seems now another girl found her way into the picture. Without a word you have lured me here only to leave me broken. You praise her and I watch just like a permanent wall fixture. Thanks for the lies, and all the wasted time. This is the end of the all the extra feelings. My life is taking a rapid U-turn without you in line. Please enjoy her company while I stand here dying. Sincerely, Sofi Lilly

33

In Mrs. Schmutz’s first grade class In nineteen sixty-two I took a babe for show and tell DelRae, that babe was you! I held you up for all to see Then passed you down the aisle The little girls all ooh-ed and ah-ed To see your toothless smile The little boys were less impressed Until you passed some gas Then thought you were the coolest kid In Mrs. Schmutz’s class! You seemed to like the accolades And shot a little spray Mi amigos that ain’t nada Is what you seemed to say! The teacher ran to wipe it up All frantic and befuddled Then slipped and fell right in that spot Where you, DelRae, had puddled! The girls giggled girlishly The boys let out a roar The principal came striding in Take that and raise you four! You burped a *** of curdled milk Torpedoed in his eye I don’t recall another time I’ve seen a grown man cry! He banned you from that first grade class I guess his pride was smarted ‘Cuz you were kicked out of that school And hadn’t even started! Some fifty years have come and gone Since all that stuff you did So Happy Birthday, DelRae Scott! You’re still the coolest kid!

0

Feb 18, 2016

Feb 18, 2016 at 4:29 PM UTC

jeanelle-averett

The Happy Birthday Poem

In Mrs. Schmutz’s first grade class In nineteen sixty-two I took a babe for show and tell DelRae, that babe was you! I held you up for all to see Then passed you down the aisle The little girls all ooh-ed and ah-ed To see your toothless smile The little boys were less impressed Until you passed some gas Then thought you were the coolest kid In Mrs. Schmutz’s class! You seemed to like the accolades And shot a little spray Mi amigos that ain’t nada Is what you seemed to say! The teacher ran to wipe it up All frantic and befuddled Then slipped and fell right in that spot Where you, DelRae, had puddled! The girls giggled girlishly The boys let out a roar The principal came striding in Take that and raise you four! You burped a *** of curdled milk Torpedoed in his eye I don’t recall another time I’ve seen a grown man cry! He banned you from that first grade class I guess his pride was smarted ‘Cuz you were kicked out of that school And hadn’t even started! Some fifty years have come and gone Since all that stuff you did So Happy Birthday, DelRae Scott! You’re still the coolest kid!

36

the first time i choked on tear-gas, we were standing in the heart of the Empire. the scent of capsaicin still smarted as we fished our medic bags for water-bottles to flush our comrades’ eyes. we did not weep for the revolt. we were at peace even as we knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, we were ****** the black bloc, three thousand strong, had raged through the streets of D.C. overturning dumpsters, torching limos, taking hammers and crowbars to Bank of America windows with gleeful abandon, a sense of endless, militant joy. it would be anarchy or annihilation. the spontaneous insurrection of the antifascist demonstration was an inferno hotter than the dumpster-fires we’d left like signal-flares in our wake. for a moment, there, we could feel the ******** quaking as our feet shook the Earth, stepping in-and-out of Lovecraftian shadows, eldritch horrors of doom gloating over us. but we’d been kettled, cordoned by cops in riot gear, cut-off from all possible routes of escape. faceless phantoms clutching cudgels to bludgeon our conflagration into submission. and then the call came. “this way! this way! we found an exit!” immediately, the cops swarmed in, their momentarily vindictive arrogance shattered by the freedom that rang like church-bells in a half-a-hundred voices. “this way! this way! we found an exit!” motorcycles turned down the alleyway, sirens screaming, echoing off the tenement halls and only one of us possessed the sense to intervene. for a moment, she stood alone. a single figure, holding up her hands and shaking her head, refusing to let the ******** advance. but courage is infectious. a moment later, another joined her, then another, until all of a sudden a half-a-dozen of us stood shoulder-to-shoulder, shouting, “no pasaran! you shall not pass!” we waited for the billy-clubs to rain hell upon our shoulders, but still we remained steadfast, anchored by the weight of our conviction and the hope that even if we fell the rest of the bloc would escape to wreak havoc another day.

0

May 31, 2019

May 31, 2019 at 12:33 PM UTC

pearsonbolt

courage

the first time i choked on tear-gas, we were standing in the heart of the Empire. the scent of capsaicin still smarted as we fished our medic bags for water-bottles to flush our comrades’ eyes. we did not weep for the revolt. we were at peace even as we knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, we were ****** the black bloc, three thousand strong, had raged through the streets of D.C. overturning dumpsters, torching limos, taking hammers and crowbars to Bank of America windows with gleeful abandon, a sense of endless, militant joy. it would be anarchy or annihilation. the spontaneous insurrection of the antifascist demonstration was an inferno hotter than the dumpster-fires we’d left like signal-flares in our wake. for a moment, there, we could feel the ******** quaking as our feet shook the Earth, stepping in-and-out of Lovecraftian shadows, eldritch horrors of doom gloating over us. but we’d been kettled, cordoned by cops in riot gear, cut-off from all possible routes of escape. faceless phantoms clutching cudgels to bludgeon our conflagration into submission. and then the call came. “this way! this way! we found an exit!” immediately, the cops swarmed in, their momentarily vindictive arrogance shattered by the freedom that rang like church-bells in a half-a-hundred voices. “this way! this way! we found an exit!” motorcycles turned down the alleyway, sirens screaming, echoing off the tenement halls and only one of us possessed the sense to intervene. for a moment, she stood alone. a single figure, holding up her hands and shaking her head, refusing to let the ******** advance. but courage is infectious. a moment later, another joined her, then another, until all of a sudden a half-a-dozen of us stood shoulder-to-shoulder, shouting, “no pasaran! you shall not pass!” we waited for the billy-clubs to rain hell upon our shoulders, but still we remained steadfast, anchored by the weight of our conviction and the hope that even if we fell the rest of the bloc would escape to wreak havoc another day.

57

i have managed to evolve just enough that i am no longer bothered by you. i have someone i can fake text a badly designed little game meant for six year olds that i can play or i can scroll scroll scroll and pretend that so many other two demensional people want to get ahold of me i can do all this in the most superior manner and never even look at you because you are three dimensional and you are too hard to figure out, process analyze you are simply too big for my screen... i must wait for another upgrade before i can open you you are too real i cannot sort you out into little megapixels.... you will break me

0

May 26, 2013

May 26, 2013 at 1:42 AM UTC

Redshift

out-smarted

i have managed to evolve just enough that i am no longer bothered by you. i have someone i can fake text a badly designed little game meant for six year olds that i can play or i can scroll scroll scroll and pretend that so many other two demensional people want to get ahold of me i can do all this in the most superior manner and never even look at you because you are three dimensional and you are too hard to figure out, process analyze you are simply too big for my screen... i must wait for another upgrade before i can open you you are too real i cannot sort you out into little megapixels.... you will break me

32

OK, I was upset - he said something that stung it smarted ouch. I wanted to run but didn't I felt my face change my lips purse my demeanor stiffen did he notice? He'd given me an orange earlier that day now I wanted to stomp on it crush it... but what did that orange do to me? I thought of giving it away but did not so it sat on my desk until Friday. When I finally looked at his picture and said I'm not mad at you anymore and meant it. Later that afternoon in my office I heard someone speak but I was focused on helping someone at the time. They spoke again, I turned around and there he was. We talked for a little while and briefly I wondered if he noticed the changes in my being that day but then I thought of it no more. He was here, I was not mad and I realized when I let go of feeling hurt let go of being mad and decided to love him anyway. God opened a window and it was my heart.

0

May 7, 2012

May 7, 2012 at 9:02 PM UTC

karen-browner

Friday

OK, I was upset - he said something that stung it smarted ouch. I wanted to run but didn't I felt my face change my lips purse my demeanor stiffen did he notice? He'd given me an orange earlier that day now I wanted to stomp on it crush it... but what did that orange do to me? I thought of giving it away but did not so it sat on my desk until Friday. When I finally looked at his picture and said I'm not mad at you anymore and meant it. Later that afternoon in my office I heard someone speak but I was focused on helping someone at the time. They spoke again, I turned around and there he was. We talked for a little while and briefly I wondered if he noticed the changes in my being that day but then I thought of it no more. He was here, I was not mad and I realized when I let go of feeling hurt let go of being mad and decided to love him anyway. God opened a window and it was my heart.

35

What they want us to do: Be slimmer Be smarted Be self-confident Be spiritual What they ask: "Why aren't you eating?" "Why are you always studying?" "Why do you dress like a **** "Why are you always in church?" What I say: ... What my mind says: "I'm trying my hardest but none of you see it. Each word you dig into me drains me each day. I know I am fat, I know I am dumb. I am trying to be like you but.. I... just... don't... fit... in...

0

Jan 23, 2015

Jan 23, 2015 at 11:41 PM UTC

leo-sky-cunio

Trying..

What they want us to do: Be slimmer Be smarted Be self-confident Be spiritual What they ask: "Why aren't you eating?" "Why are you always studying?" "Why do you dress like a **** "Why are you always in church?" What I say: ... What my mind says: "I'm trying my hardest but none of you see it. Each word you dig into me drains me each day. I know I am fat, I know I am dumb. I am trying to be like you but.. I... just... don't... fit... in...

19

My patience is chipping It falls to the ground leaving marks I can't You've out-smarted me Im done You win Good job Im broken And can only be put back together With the glue of your love

0

Jun 6, 2015

Jun 6, 2015 at 3:24 PM UTC

Invisible

Speechless

My patience is chipping It falls to the ground leaving marks I can't You've out-smarted me Im done You win Good job Im broken And can only be put back together With the glue of your love

10

3 Dog's Fate The dog hid in a doorway But was spotted by the chef Come on now boy I won't hurt you Such were the chef's evil lies He would catch the dog Finish the act and have his meal The dog has out smarted him once There would be no second time Look there he is! Come here boy it's ok We won't hurt you We just want to eat you The dog saw his enemy And bolted for freedom Would he live or die? If he escaped what of his injuries? He'd been half cooked alive The chef kept calling And looking for him Will he live or die? He was one of many Poor little doggy

0

May 17, 2021

May 17, 2021 at 9:35 PM UTC

nickarmbrister

3 Dog's Fate

3 Dog's Fate The dog hid in a doorway But was spotted by the chef Come on now boy I won't hurt you Such were the chef's evil lies He would catch the dog Finish the act and have his meal The dog has out smarted him once There would be no second time Look there he is! Come here boy it's ok We won't hurt you We just want to eat you The dog saw his enemy And bolted for freedom Would he live or die? If he escaped what of his injuries? He'd been half cooked alive The chef kept calling And looking for him Will he live or die? He was one of many Poor little doggy

24

Yiska stood by the window of the locked ward. Snow drifted slowly in large clumps settling on the window sill and the trees and on the lawn below. I should be out there. Not stuck in here. Her bandaged wrist smarted where she'd slit it days before. Should have done it better. Try again if I can. In a nearby field a tractor ploughed slowly. Gulls and rooks followed behind like small ghosts. Where's Benedict? The other patients roamed the ward. Nurses passed purposely. Hands went around her waist. Benedict kissed her neck. Warm kiss. Snow? He whispered. The gulls and rooks lifted up and away. Beginning of a new dull day.

0

Sep 17, 2017

Sep 17, 2017 at 3:19 PM UTC

TerryCollett

Snow Drifted 1971

Yiska stood by the window of the locked ward. Snow drifted slowly in large clumps settling on the window sill and the trees and on the lawn below. I should be out there. Not stuck in here. Her bandaged wrist smarted where she'd slit it days before. Should have done it better. Try again if I can. In a nearby field a tractor ploughed slowly. Gulls and rooks followed behind like small ghosts. Where's Benedict? The other patients roamed the ward. Nurses passed purposely. Hands went around her waist. Benedict kissed her neck. Warm kiss. Snow? He whispered. The gulls and rooks lifted up and away. Beginning of a new dull day.

26