"smarty" poems
Basketball is not a sport
All they ever do is run around the court
The players use an orange bouncy ball
By the way, they're 11 feet tall
And the net is only 10 feet high
"How we gonna score, maybe bend our thigh?"
Saying basketball's a sport is like sportifying 4 square
What sports can you play while you're in a wheelchair?
Basketball's just an activity
So just dunk the ball for infinity
Don't be stupid, be a smarty
Don't go to a basketball party
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 10:08 AM UTC
me truck
me truck is where i get my luck
good luck, bad luck, nice luck
me truck stunk like a skunk
that seems like bad luck
but it was the good skunk
the wan that gets u bunked
me cat has a bad case of lice
no more chasing ***** mice
the stupid thing only eats rice
the ganga it smokes is so nice
it somkes great out of me pipe
my truck makes me lots of money
me honey likes me money
me brain aint very funny
i also aint a big smarty
so me truck is me only option
i like it, its so very nice
almost as good as mariwawa
otherwise known as de ganga
good bye
tank u truck
for me money and me food
to feed me fam
and me ganga addiction
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 11:32 AM UTC
I'm smarter than
Most people i know,
But i've been cursed
With the ability to
Feel.
I have a multitude of thoughts
Being triggered every second.
Each with their own
Unique emotion.
I feel each one vividly,
And with amazing depth
Creating a storm in my head
Impossible to ignore.
My storm of emotions
Grows so strong,
It prevents the simultaneous thoughts
From being articulated
Or understood.
I can confuse myself,
And break my own heart
Because of the complexity
Of my mind.
An astounding talent, really.
My dad says I'm smart,
Too smart for my own good.
And he's probably right.
What good is a brain,
When your heart makes all the decisions?
Feb 26, 2016
Feb 26, 2016 at 5:11 PM UTC
Hum mile ek dusre se
Sabkuch acha tha.....
.
Ek pal na socha maine
Ki bo to bs ek kaanch ka supna tha.
.
Baate hui, dosti hui , najdiikiya badi.
Mar mitne ko jee chahata hai us pr mujhe.
.
Ky karu pyaaar hai had se jyada mujhe usse.
Jeena nhi chahata hu uske bagair mai.
.
But saccchhhai ye hai ki hum ek ni ** skte .
Never ever.
.
Islye kud ki hi najro mai thoda thoda krke mar raha hu mai.
Jee nhi raha bs saaanse gin raha hu mai.
.
Srf or srf es ummeed me .
.
Hume bhi hai ek supno ki dunia bnani.
Nahi rakhni mujhe #Humari_adhuri_kahaani.
.
.
.
#SmArTy...
Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 12:18 PM UTC
Smile baby smile baby smile smile. .
I wanna make you smile. .
I wanna take you high . .
I wanna make you fly. .
o smiley o smiley o smiley. .
Looks like a cute angel
smile like a sweet blossom
sing like a cuckoo bird. . .
O sweety o sweety o sweety. . .
Fall like a pleasant sunshine.
Flow like a river bed.
ring like a church bell now .
Come to me come to me come to me. . .
Come like a rainy drop
be like a holy drop
shower like a rain of gift. . .
Hey smarty hey smarty hey smarty. .
Glow like a rising sun
be like a thunder storm
work like a running clock. . .
Hey dolly hey dolly hey hey. .
Play like a winter spring
be like a cool monsoon
help like a cool breeze now. . .
Smile baby smile baby smile smile. .
O smiley o smiley o smiley. . . .
Feb 11, 2012
Feb 11, 2012 at 9:36 AM UTC
the teacher
expounded on the value of the tree
*“Isaac Newtown
discovered the law of gravity
under an apple tree;
the Buddha gained nirvana
seated under the Bodhi tree
Children -
what can we extrapolate from this?”*
“It’s obvious, teacher,” said a smarty-pants kid
*“class is useless -
for if they’d been seated in a class like us
they’d have remained ignorant”*
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 7:12 AM UTC
you cannot be serious man
in what you say
that is what the brat
was heard to say
on the court he'd remonstrate
about the call
he objected to the linesman's
placement of the ball
you cannot be serious man
in what you say
that is what the brat
was heard to say
in tennis circles he had
a no good reputation
for engaging in
all manner of disputation
you cannot be serious man
in what you say
that was what the brat
was heard to say
unsporting behaviour
he'd frequently show
other competitors didn't much
like the tenor of his bow
you cannot be serious man
in what you say
that is what the brat
was heard to say
another of his ilk presently
applies the same guttersnipe stuff
he's a right royal smarty-pants
with his racquet's guff
you cannot be serious man
in what you say
that is what the brat
was heard to say
Oct 24, 2016
Oct 24, 2016 at 7:03 PM UTC
There's the eight of us,
So very different
But yet so much the same.
Each of us holds our special traits.
Our special talents
Converged as an octet.
Some artistic
Some scientific
Some linguistic and
All fantastic.
We love to laugh,
We love to tease,
We love to make a fool of ourselves.
We know there's one who's always there,
Spraying water everywhere,
But never lets people touch her hair.
And then there's one,
Who's buff and tough,
Her voice can change like a chameleon's skin.
Next we have this pretty babe,
Her furry stuff are fun to touch,
She's the gentlest, loveliest llama I know.
Not to forget,
The one's that's brainy,
Such a smarty that she can't type properly.
There's also one that I believe
She's really a mermaid in disguise,
Her actions way too ridiculous.
Of course we have this crazy kid,
Too many fandoms and too little sleep.
I still wonder why she needs her hood all the time.
And here there's another girl,
With real beautiful eyes,
A perfect actress for sketch comedies.
Last but not least,
There's just me,
I can't find a word for my personality.
I don't know how far we'll go,
If we'll still stay as close as we are right now.
As time cruelly marches on,
The day we'll part ways draws so near.
This part of me knows
That this magical bond
That we call friendship,
Will live on forever and ever.
Never did I feel so sure,
So confident about friendship.
But you guys are so special,
I really hope you know.
No matter what happens,
I see myself with you all forever,
And you all with me.
I believe in this friendship.
This magical bond,
That holds the eight of us,
Closely together,
Forever.
May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 5:12 AM UTC
toaster strudel makes me doodle
eggo waffles feed my poodle
sriracha hot sauce makes my gut toss
taco salad tastes like farts.
smarty thinkers with big wieners
clear the way for bathroom cleaners
dangerous pokemon in the sky
teach me things like how to fly
supple ******* against my chest
your ****** is hard and so are the rest
eat this pear
munch with care
put those shorts on
watch me stare
take a bath in tasty grease
my wiener is small to say the least
now let's race inside this tub
we'll see who get's out first
should we get out?
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 9:04 PM UTC
Gilded cage so small and tiny
Even singing comes out whiny
Stinking of fake fresh and piney
Tis the season
Leaking water warm and briny
With good reason
Christmas cheer and glasses toast
Loved ones smile and laugh and boast
I sit perched upon my post
A tinsled column
Invisible reluctant host
A heart that's solemn
A longing for a love so distant
The melancholy is persistent
A smile could erase it in an instant
On a face cherubic
For my heart is not resistent
It's theraputic
So that smile that is perfection
Is mirrored in my own reflection
Without a thought about rejection
Hallucinations
About the subtlest inflection
In Salutations
Surrounded by the merrily intense
With drunkard tendencies immense
A bar with all accoutrements
They pound tequila
Drinking away the sacraments
Oh yes, I feel ya
Merry time with old Kris Kringle
Guests all lubed enough to mingle
Mistletoe hangs and sleigh bells jingle
Gifts homemade
Tables adourned and glasses tingle
Gold brocade
Still I sit all caged and flightless
Blind to joy all sad and sightless
Drink could make it hurt a mite less
I'm going backward
Laying here all limp and lifeless
Broke and fractured
Surrounded by the fake and vexing
Artificial and quite perplexing
Reality they are rejecting
The devil may care
Bellies bare and muscles flexing
Lost underwear
So ******* dancing to the jukebox
Lost alone here in the boondocks
There is no snow upon the rooftops
Ahead they forge
Find a room before that thing pops
It's so engorged
Neighbor ***** all dressed in orange
Wearing gold to make the poor cringe
Stripping time to fill her syringe
I'll be her hinderance
Still too drunk from her last binge
Faulty remembrance
Ridding riff raff from the party
People still drunk on Bacardi
Noxious gasses burp and farty
With toilets makeshift
Worn out makeup on the smarty
She needs a facelift
Time to let the people go
Too tired to keep watching the show
Drinking hard and walking slow
Verbose yet listless
Honey I don't want to know
It's not my business
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 11:22 AM UTC
Es kadaake wali..thand me chai ki tarah bankar aajao na tum.
.
Sukhha sa pada hai mere dil ka registan ek baarish bankar aajao na tum
.
Nhi raha jaata es andhere wali Zindagi me,
Ek roshni ki kiran leke aajaao na tum.
.
Sab jaante nhi hai mere dil ki raani **
Ek baar aake bta jaao na tum
.
Dukh bad gye hai intzar me tumhaare.
Ek khushi banke dil me sama jaaao na tum.
.
Plzz plzZ plzZ
Meri lyf main aajao na tum.
.
.
.
#SmArTy...
Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 10:25 PM UTC
the one drop rule
invisible blackness
black versus white
different categories of race
created by man for evil purposes
such as caucasoid negroid and mongoloid
this is a bunch of hooey
these words are just terms for
marginalising whole groups of people
by some smarty pant with a so-called degree
in anthropology and sociology
who gives people the right to classify other racial groups
I pondered it - anyway just blue smoke and mirror stuff
created by some racist people organizations and institutions
by creating racial and class division plus religion creating wars
thus
God created man - singular form
thus
God created man from the earth (black mud)
and no accident that we are made from one blood
oh yeah - Adam's blood
mankind is just a very large extended family - based on DNA
Europeans are not 100% white
they became white because of environmental adaptations
and they are no better that the rest of God's creations on earth
skin color does not make one racial group superior than another
this is just a head and mind game for social and political advantages
however everyone is a Heinz 57 mixture
White People are mixed with so much stuff - too
oh yeah baby and who is your daddy now
race mixing has been around
throughout the history of mankind and still
it will continue to mix races in the future
just remember this
the neanderthal mated on a regular basis with the homosapien
no race is 100% pure of anything
according to one drop rule - White are neanderthals too
this one drop rule is a silly and hidden taboo that is just plain ludicrous
God is a good God
God is neither Black nor White but He is a Being of Existence of every dimension
God is the all of everything - seen and unseen
God exist in every creation
God is a part of you and me
the will of God lives in every place
God is justice and equality
God don't speech hate and racism
God is love and peace toward all mankind
God does not make men slaves
God gives man the right to be free
God wants man to be inherit the earth and be good stewards
Well ain't God good no matter how you look at it
yes He is good - all the time my brother
yes god is good and everlasting
amen amen amen
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 10:31 PM UTC
the ladies oh the ladies louder now
celebrate christmas with a almighty roul
you see christmas is the time of the year where we party right
like drinking alcohol and get ****** yeah that is quite great
you see kids see Santa and ask them what would they like
and the ladies buy the men a cordless drill
as well as the men giving a ladies a big diamond ring
yeah we will party with the song
we wish you a jetty christams we wish you a merry christmas
and a happy new year
christmas is the time of year to Party party party
and you get some eggnog and say come on ya ****** smarty
oh dudes we will lift up our glassed and sing
to the christ child the nirvanaly king
you see christmas is the happiest time
for a happy dude like me, to enjoy life too
silent night holy night all is calm all is bright
round yon ****** mother and child
once in royal davids city the party is on for young and old
as santa goes a travelling through the computer
giving presents to everyone there
and then on the first day of christmas my truelove gave to me
a dollar so i buy a homeless man his tea
if that isn’t enough, how about just leave it in his hat
so he could add it up and buy many more dinners from all the money he raised
away in a manger no crib for a bed
the little lord buddha laid down his sweet head
he would wake up and say, i control the 3 kings of orient are
i bare gifts as i travel afar
i am dreaming of a white christmas, well stop cause in Australia it’s too **** hot
for it’s the summer weather, the bbqs are lit together
as we are a walking around singing a song living in a summer wonderland
on the beach we can build a sandcastle and bury poor old patrick in the sand
and then he will jump and SHUT UP, why don’t you give your family a ****** woman a ****** hand
then we jump in the saddle nice and quick all in there with good saint nick
Feliz Navidad i want to wish a merry Christmas
i wish you a merry christmas form the bottom of my heart, i lost when my friends treat me like a criminal
six white boomers six white boomers racing good old Patrick through the blazing sun
then Patrick sent to santa what about the toys
aren’t you giving these to all the boys and girls
or are you saying that boys are better than girls like a cool kid that you are
a pair of hoppalong boots and pistol that shoots,is a gift for Patrick and Wayne
dolls that will talk and go for a walk a grift from Joanne and Paula
now dudes as i am prepared to party on dude till the break of dawn
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 5:47 PM UTC
i am a partying in the street ya know
i have got my chips and coca cola that is radical
i want to be happy don’t you ******* know
steve and bill and doff and jill went up the hill
to try to catch a party spirit and really party on
i liked thew mates i had when i was young
they are pretty cool, but i am moving on
and so should they
yeah that is the way of the world
i hate tony abbott that is my opinion, please don’t lock me away
he is just a loser can’t ya see
everyone is partying in the clubs ya see
so mr conservo, get out iof this place
for i am the man to boot you out on your *** mr abbott
everyone says party party party and forget about the little smarty
who come in your life, ***** with your wife
yeah partying is more fun than that yeah,
i wanna rock and roll all night, and drink every day, a bottle of coke
and don’t you doff it down for you to choke
party party party get down and ****** party dudes
let’s get on with the show, even if it shows
partying is fun for people of all ages, yeah mate yeah
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 2:28 AM UTC
Pity the wimpy Democrats
They suffer in defeat.
Year after year they don’t learn
Like Republicans you must cheat.
Stuff all the ballot boxes
And monkey with the machines.
You’ll never get a **** thing done
If you keep the elections clean.
And band together solidly
With your chosen party.
Lie and cheat and dissemble
And act like a pompous smarty.
Never worry about what is right.
Just brazen it through out loud.
It seems jerks do the best
When catering to the crowd.
Buy votes from everywhere
Especially from big industry;
Big Oil, Big Banks and Pharma
Kiss their butts shamelessly.
Make sure all the factions
That are stealing the country blind
Understand you have their backs
And treat all of the poor unkind.
Go on tour and television
And make out you’re the good guy:
Dare the opposition to debate
Then Ignore facts and lie.
Remember the public is stupid
And doesn’t know what goes on.
Run a crew of cheaters on the side,
It’s what elections depend on.
But most importantly, you must be
The most obnoxious candidate.
Start early and spend the bucks.
It’s deadly for you to start too late.
Run the most famous people:
They must be Christian and straight.
No matter how you cheat and lie
Promise America will be Great.
Cover your butts before you start.
Plant a lot of baseless rumors.
Make baseless stories about their past.
Swear voting wrong causes tumors.
Do what it takes, Democrats
The GOP has no compunctions
If they could just get by with it
They’d beat you with truncheons.
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 9:02 PM UTC
Ky ** tum,.
Princess ** tum meri.
Jaan ** tum meri.
Har khushi ki bajah ** tum.
Meri har har baat tumse shuru hoti hai or tum pe khatam.
Mera har morng tumse start hoti hai.
Or har raat tum pr khatm.
Tumhare bin to main apni lyf imagine bhi ni kr pata.
Main to humesha k lye Sone ko bhi ready hu.
Kyoki jo(Aap) sapne me mera apna hai.
Wahi aankh khulte hi srf ek supna hai.
.
.
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#SmArTy...
Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 12:20 PM UTC
Blue eyes
brown hair
cat lover
horse rider
directioner
small hands
big lips
open heart
open arms
little sister
cute giggle
perfect hugs
stupid fights
smarty pants
goof ball
little sister
annoying
beautiful
talented
Jillian
Little Sister
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 9:52 AM UTC
Machmal denke ich günstig für nicht sein,
Denn ich kann nicht zu viel sehr gut machen.
Ich bin zu klein, zu kurz, and nicht klug
Nicht friedlich genug, oder zu verrückt und komisch.
Meine Geschwister meinten das ich bin sehr ägerlich.
Aber meine Freunde hat etwas anderes sagen.
Sie denken ich bin nett and freundlich,
Lustig and vielleicht schon,
Und ein absolut Schlauberger.
Ich glaube sie fast nie,
Aber ich beginne zu sie glauben.
Sometimes I think I'm good for nothing
Because I cannot do too much well.
I am too small, too short, and not smart
Not peaceful enough or too crazy and weird.
My siblings think that I'm very annoying
But my friends have said something else.
They think I'm nice and friendly
Funny and maybe pretty
And an absolute smarty pants
I almost never believe them
But I am beginning to believe them.
Oct 11, 2013
Oct 11, 2013 at 4:38 PM UTC
your arousal fantasy
is a catch for me
comes in sound waves
enters my head
from the right ear
but no action required
I say
just observe
so I
pull it up a bit
- the activated tip
in the crypt -
from the line beneath
towards the umbilicus
spread
- the well calculated
as if instantly
phononized insanity
validating
vibrational ascendancy-
along the void
and render
all the whatever
patiently
in less than a moment
lest the mind won’t interfere
amid balancing the belly
I half
the remaining
equally
push one lump towards the zenith
another vis-a-vis the right feet
so it finds a correct exit
while especially the
toe tip
beside the small one is affected to be
the immediate target of delete
I shut personal sensations
of ‘I don’t like it’
so that I can dump
with a pure desire
to return to sender
as is required
as much as earth receives
air insists
for its ascending part
an accuracy of might
a simultaneous rush of flow
a cause of cranial vertigo
lasting less than a moment
on the right
quasi ready to squad
the head
but No - I fight not
fighting means slavery at your side
whereas your side exists not
without that foxy fight
hidden under smarty pants just
a mystified puff-gloom intensifies
but gets shot
in one bite
ready to gobble the pretender
which I am not
and flushes oh the so lonely
oh the so broken hearted
transforms to a flatus-cloud
heads up and up
en route the dark
skies full of angry-clouds
oh my brrrrrrgghhhh
even they take it not
hurriedly move aside
an irregularly contoured
eloquent ******
ethereal space shapes
softly
along the
cotton like subtlety
pliantly tight
so you can pass
while I happily look up
to sing the
Oh Lovey-Dovey
See!
You also have some use
Finally
and Yes!
The sun shines for us
most beautifully
diminishing your blues
through the enchanting
blue of the patchy
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 3:19 PM UTC
No Clicking Of Heels
I don't cry anymore
Because I know
Anything that lasts
Must go slow.
We burned it out
With passion hot.
I touched you softly
And found your spot.
Not the one
Between your legs
Or your neck
Or pulling hair while you begged.
Far deeper than that
Did we go.
To a place unknown
In our soul.
A place that scared
The living hell
To a point
We did bid farewell.
We burned it out
Before we began
To see each other
From end to end.
From heart to heart
From head to toe
From places beneath
That none will know.
To places far more vast
Than we can see within ourselves.
Places never written about
On tall bookshelves.
Places beyond
space and time
Where angels dance
Where all things rhyme
And gel within
To grow us far
From egos to souls
On other sides of stars.
Where did we meet?
In halls of school?
And where's that baby
We wanted, with coo?
And I think of this
From time to time.
Wondering how
To end this rhyme
This hell to heaven
All wrapped in one
The memories of pain
And so much fun.
Where we are together
Making love and peace
As gypsies do
Living in ease.
But all my logic
And all you feels
Can't bring us back home
By click of heels.
The storm is too great
In your mind from then.
Yet I'll dream of you
Until my end.
4 mins flat,
This took to write.
And it's done with love
Not worry or fright.
You're within me
And you just flow out
So it all much be true
I have no doubt
That you miss me too,
Now and then
And have great wonder
Why did we end
Or could we begin again.
My feels; your logic;
My logic; your feels.
But no fine answer;
And no clicking of heels.
I've tried.
Haha
Love,
Smarty Pants [aka NitWit;) :*]
Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 10:18 AM UTC
Wait a minute, is it already Christmas again
Seems I just took down the lights and the tree
Is there no rest for the downtrodden and weary
This season sometimes takes the Merry Gentleman out of me
So I load up the sleigh with the dog and the kids
The old beat up station wagon I drive
On the hunt for this years perfect tree
We'll be lucky if we make it back home alive
As we jingle all the way to the local tree farm
Six kids and a dog singing at the top of their lungs
With only twelve days left before Christmas
My ** ** ** is already long gone
Picking the best tree out within our budget
My wife says Charlie Brown would be proud
I ask smarty pants Mrs. Santa what she meant by that
She'd rather not say with the little elves around
Before an argument even ensues
I've lost the battle before I hit the front line
You wonder how I'm so confident of that
The same thing happened last year at this time
As I struggle to get the tree off the roof of my jalopy
While Jack the dog in the frost is nipping at my toes
I fall to the ground with visions of sugar plums dancing in my head
Waking up to the dogs frozen tongue stuck up my nose
Finally with the tree set up in the front parlor
I notice it leans bad to one side
Taking my chainsaw to alleviate the problem
The gas fumes **** my kids parakeet out right
With Hobby Lobby open late for the holidays
I was able to purchase the product I need
Working late into the wee morning hours
I did a good job shellacking the parakeet
I'm not sure that my kids even noticed
Or brought up the question what for
But they sure like the shinny new ornament
Hanging next to the hamster that disappeared the year before
Well, I survived another preparing for Christmas
As subconsciously I'm being led
To wrap myself in last years present "The Snuggie"
And dream of those sugar plums dancing in my head
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 8:47 AM UTC
The eye was hurt plenty of times before.
In a hollow filled with nice things,
they overflowed, no one was a baby to a right hand.
In the other hand, field of moms trying so desperately to avoid babies,
moms setting all toilets and fingers as contraception,
moms anxious about boys and suspicious about girls.
Boys apparently had those pregnancy machines and girls were the neutral side,
boys just had to plant smarty seed to see what number would show in girls' innocent tummy.
Boys grow as engineers and the engines often roar like crazy,
though it is now different from what I was taught about girls.
-----------
-----------
Skin was just some other walls,
but, really, skin is marshmallow
even the softest tongue can destroy.
You know, tummy
isn't that really innocent either.
Tummy was a determined sister in a dim church,
tummy was mother mary and holy spirit,
tummy was not an apetite for what wasn't in the tabernacle.
Tummy now has cracked her shell, so I see inside,
apparently tummy has some other things beside a fertile empty land.
The gases and the blood are in different tunnels, though
there is something else about miss tummy womb.
She isn't at all neutral, she isn't at all an item of the season.
She softens every time it rains, she makes
her own weather in her own territory.
I now know, neutral was only the word stuck between scared parents' teeth,
neutral was only the gift we didn't know was a troll,
neutral was only a paradox in the most destructive way possible.
-----------
-----------
Careful with essentially hurtful words, we
sweat, with perfect heat,
as the skins melt into one giant chewy lump.
What I didn't know about skin was
that girls had skin too,
girls just were not in their element back then;
I think girls with metallic things were sinners just a little bit too checkmate,
I think girls were housewives just a little bit too godlike.
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 7:09 AM UTC
She said
“Oh you’re such a ******* comedian”
and I laughed at her face
I believe the term is
more than kinda ****** off
did I ever tell you the one about the
cynical poet with a substance abuse problem?
I know I have a punchline somewhere
in between all these smudged lines of ink
and then she said,
“You over think too much. Just shut the **** up and live.”
and I didn’t say
I live to think of you just shutting up and letting me **** you
but instead I went with -
you are probably right. Let’s take a shot
it was a shot in the dark
no I shot the dark
for all the nights I spent barricading my closet door
because I am vindictive at times
and you are so full of vitriol at times
I call you little miss snake bite
and I’m allergic to antivenom
“again with the jokes. When was the last time
you said something actually real?”
when was the last time anybody said
absolutely anything?
“Sarcastic remarks again, huh?”
you’re **** right smarty pants
Then we got drunk
a risky proposition I found myself facing
you swaying to music I couldn’t quite hear
THAT made me nervous
I’ve always been terrified of turning ******
then you said,
“What music?”
and that made me feel a little better
knowing you were possibly
a little ****** too
did you ever hear the one about the
probably in way over his head love struck
funny poetry guy?
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 9:36 AM UTC
Attaining enlightenment
right now, on this couch,
not in his 'to do' list,
(won't resist a zen moment
if it passes this way;
at the back of the mind,
a thought whispers)
This, cursed shrink,
certainly blessed, to have a full couch every hour,
is not an unusual kettle of fish,
cook book approach is enough
she believes,
as the problem list of the populace
she has brought down to few items,
such a smarty pants!
"Are you obsessed with ***
she pretends to take the bull by its horns,
(why does she look so unkempt?
that really bugs)
May be on a sudden second thought, she
changes the track,
"Is it death that threatens you day and night?"
"Both" says the potato on the couch,
the quiet looking poet type,
with a languid smile,
" are one and the same,
as I see, from here;
**one is so exquisite and ephemeral,
the other, bliss eternal,
after erasing all memories'**
IOI
Mar 30, 2012
Mar 30, 2012 at 10:18 PM UTC
A HUGE discovery (on an overheated wet snow stinky stuffy bus
no one
not the grannies, the discolored, the over bundled,
or even the seven and eight year old noisy brats,
(towing blonde nineteen year old au-pairs from Sweden)
doesn’t have their face planted on a screen
most messaging
when the light shines in and the illustration is illuminated
through the stink of overheated humans on a bus-poet
i can tell everything about you from the way
you tap on the screen
you nice you mean
you possess a southern drawl, a handwriting less ‘n a scrawl,
you are a passionate lover slow and languid,
you’re a bath splasher, a snowball thrower,
believer anything wet, well, should be a shared liquid
your think all lives matter especially mine
who plods thru life slow and safe one key tap at time,
making love in the same way and never in the afternoon
whose mother loved them swell well and made them
crazy people who smile at everyone
sharing their terra chips, body parts and
sweet spicy spit
with loving tenderness
the ones who write beneath colored decorated fingernails
so careful not carefree using the finger pads to message and
never break a nail or own a heart making a mess worthy of
cleaning up with a repairman
who lies ‘n cheats on their taxes and their lovers with
reckless impunity because you are so important
then what the heck you doing on this bus with us plebeians?
and the one next to me generationally born to use two thumbs,
but pauses to reflect on the way humans speak to one another before desensitizing blurting any old thing
And the one to whom I show this poem and insists I miss my stop so she can text me her digits and kiss that thumb
a year later in front of a smoke perfumed fire and she whispers
smarty pants, mr smoke scribe,
who writes only love poetry
watch, what does the smoke say?
but it says nothing that cannot be best expressed by
letting my thumbs do all the talking by tapping
all over her body
Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 11:45 AM UTC