"snippy" poems
The entitled ones:
Snotty, stuck up, rude
Nasty, spoiled prudes
Your misery, their fun
Loosen up your buns, entitled ones
‘Cause I am in no mood
To harbor your attitude
And snooty snippy sayings sung
The desk between us that which divides
Does not right you to be snide
Entitled ones need not apply
Entitled are entitled nigh
The ones who earn entitlement
Are the ones who give respect
Possessors of this enlightenment
Such respect is what they’ll get
Treat your servers as you will with such level of pomposity
But understand that I abide by way of reciprocity
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 10:16 PM UTC
once there was a worm named timmy tiny tail
he had a very unusual, and very tiny tail
he had but one friend, sandy the snail
who had a very ***** and grimy tail
together they complained about how they had the gayest of tails
but they weren't as bad as the 29 polka dotted ***** whales
who were at the moment swimming around the pacific, eating tiny little krill
till wally the whale got in snappy the sharks grill
then snappy got snippy and tore wally's **** up
and finished it off with some tea from his favorite tea cup
and so the 28 polka dotted ***** whales wailed for their friend
as timmy and sandy ******* about not having a decent looking end
May 13, 2011
May 13, 2011 at 1:10 AM UTC
Oopy Doopy, Super Sloopy.
Loopy snoopy, pants apoopy.
Lippy hippy, slippy dippy.
Nasty-nicey, normally snippy.
Loosey goosey, chocolate moussey.
Usually *** goofy as Gary Busey.
Hinky-stinky presidential *****
Winky-blinky, dangerously stinko.
Hippity hoppy, flippy-floppy
Get a mop, it never stops.
Laughy gaffe-y, riffy-raffy
Face as gross as rotten taffy.
Whammy-bammy, scary scammy
Mammy-jamming Uncle Sammy.
Lumpy-dumpy, far from humpy
******* up future jumpy bumpy.
Glossy boss, a frightful loss
Ungathered moss at twice the cost.
Serious gap while the country naps
****** sap giving us a slap.
Frightening nooses tightening,
Rights denied like summer lightning.
Ignoring Popes and Snopes
Hopeless dopes put us on the ropes.
Immune to our cries, elected guys
Make horrifying decisions most unwise.
Like black magic before all our eyes
We’re leaderless as freedom dies.
Jan 9, 2017
Jan 9, 2017 at 5:43 AM UTC
Like the percussive beat of a drum
Ba-dum-dum
“Dumb as a post,” she says.
“Doesn’t know when to take her shoes off,” she says.
Because what are you doing, tracking dirt in my house
Under my roof
Unlike your friend who knew
When it was time to behave himself?
“You filthy slob.”
And I think, “What about Bob?”
A ****** ****** who was just so gosh-darn
Lovable.
And even if you haven’t seen that movie
You would know
That it’s the ones who can’t stand still
And who stick their hands in flames
And who grind their brains
For answers
Who make the world go round.
And round and round
She spun her snippy little tongue
Without even a break for air.
But who needs air when you’ve got sand
Filling up your lungs
In the arid desert.
They call it Death Valley for a reason.
I’ve never been
But I heard in the summer months
The temperature maintains a balmy 120 degrees.
I’ve been absorbing the heat ever since I could
Make heads and tails of her
Ba-dum-dum.
So here we are at round two.
She says it’s preferable to be sitting in one place
Because the jabbering jaw is where all the exercise comes from.
And the winner will be declared when there is no more ********
Coming out of the other person’s mouth.
Well that’s ********
I’m not sitting around waiting for you
To throw blades at my head
And expect me to just take it.
I also can’t fake it.
I need to get out of here, don’t you understand?
Your hand has abandoned the idea of holding mine
Long ago, I know.
It serves a more physical purpose now:
To make me regret
Standing up for myself.
Ba-dum-dum
She’s still going at it!
Not hard to believe,
Since she’s gotten half a life time of practice with it.
Ba-dum-dum
It’s gotten progressively less steady.
No longer the even pulse that I was able to
Drown out earlier.
Ba-dum-dum
There she goes putting emphasis
On things that don’t matter.
I’ll be heading towards the door now…
Ba-dum-dum
Let me just –
Ba-dum-dum
Can you move please?
Ba-dum-dum
I’ll take that as a “no.”
I sigh. Not yet at the point of resignation somehow.
Ba-dum-dum
MAKE IT STOP!
Ba-dum-dum
Ba-dum-dum-dummm
Jun 2, 2012
Jun 2, 2012 at 11:05 PM UTC
I honestly don't understand
Your riches or your fame
The entire frenzy seems to me
Entirely insane
Your voice sounds ancient and dismal
And drones on with bitter feelings
Truth be told it's not at all
What one might call appealing
I'm not a devoted follower
Who thinks you're simply grand
I think you'd do much better
With a different career plan
Avoid recording studios
Or noisy concert halls
Stay home and count your money
And forget about applause
I know you would tell me
In your snippy classless way
To shut the **** up
And quietly go away
To which I will repeat
My title's earnest cry:
No more "Hello" Adele
It's time to say "Goodbye"
Aug 5, 2016
Aug 5, 2016 at 4:05 PM UTC
An open letter to chicks like thee,
You wait until you're nearly sixty-three,
You'll end up talking like me,
You'll sound like the Dead Grandmas Society,
Fine-thinking women, very snippy,
Got no time for nasties and rudies,
"What's this?" "What's for tea?"
"A plate of good manners from me!!"
(And the Dead Grandmas Society!)
A fact of life, real scary,
When you're nearly sixty-three,
Words appear from the clouds, prithee,
You'll sound like the Dead Grandmas Society.......
Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 3:53 PM UTC
Every time I sit down with the intention of expunging thoughts from my jumbled up and cloudy mind
The wires get tangled
The letters mush together into pictograms that I can't decipher
My intentions and my feelings come out in a foreign way
I don't even understand what they're trying to say and
it's
so
maddening
to realize that I can't even communicate with myself
Am I declining into insanity?
Or am I just far more smitten with you than I even let myself believe?
Your presence wraps around me and nothing else matters.
When I feel you near, I am happy.
And it ****** me off.
Sometimes I want to rage
and grump
and pout
and there are so many things about you that make me want to just smile and say it's okay
even when it's a lie
So when I lash out and strike you
when I get snippy and short of tongue
I'm just trying to stay grounded in my ever overwhelming emotional state
I'm just trying to stay sane
Even though the overwhelming thought of you nearly bursts my membrane
You've turned my poems to **** and my heart to sludge
and
I love you.
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 11:37 PM UTC
The house is all the same color. Cream
in the hot chocolate with no caffeine to stay awake. Brown
is the color of busy hair rushing, seems like a mess on the bed. Red
is the christmas decorations covering all the fake trees and cold nasty snow. Blue
is my heart as stone cold and unfeeling with their terrible ugly glances and snippy comments. Cream
would be in the coffee i wish i had now.
Nov 26, 2011
Nov 26, 2011 at 3:38 PM UTC
I ask you kindly sir;
Take into consideration the marks
angry tears have left on my cheeks
Notice my blank stares and heavy eyes
Respond to the crack in my voice
and the shaking in my hands
Before you write me off as useless for good
I ask you kindly sir;
Before you mark my paper
with your snippy little pen
See the scars and bruises on my skin
and the pounding in my head
I beg of you;
Before you label me as lazy and arrogant,
know how it has felt to be me this past year
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 9:33 AM UTC
the world can seem
from the glassy eye of a computer screen.
addicted to the ego trip of the
face
book
and
all of a sudden
the trip is no longer enough
ignored; neglected
the only response is a snippy
bit
of
sarcasm
a negative
disguised
as
a
neutral
your head
screams
'fuck you, asshole'
but if you stood up
for
yourself
they'd say
'calm down,
it's just
a
*******
joke.'
Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 9:36 PM UTC
Jackie come sit with me
I have been waiting so long.
Come hold hands with me
Then I’ll know nothing is wrong.
I will try to do better this time.
Jackie please try not to be
Seethingly angry and snippy;
Completely ****** off at me.
I know I should have thought
Before I laughed loud like I did.
Now I wish I had closed my mouth
And had gone someplace and hid.
But, can’t you see that sometimes
Not laughing is quite a hurdle?
Especially the way you look when
You wiggle into your old girdle.
I’ve told you many times before
I prefer your body without one.
But you insist on wearing the thing
And won’t quit until you are done.
So, that’s all fine and very good
If I am not in the room with you.
You insist on dressing in front of me
And you can’t claim you never knew.
Because I giggle and laugh at it
Every time because it is funny
And I can’t help myself, even though
I know your mood won’t be sunny.
Telling you I have never liked girdles
Or things like those awful ***** hose
Doesn’t seem to mean a thing to you
So, that’s just how it all goes.
Every time you put that thing on
And when I laugh you get mad.
And I am ashamed to admit it
But it’s the best time we ever had.
You wiggle and I giggle, and then
You finally get it on and glare at me.
It makes no sense that you insist
On forgetting our marital history.
Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 5:28 AM UTC
I don’t know who I am
Without him I am lost
No longer independent
No longer just a “me”
I make myself sick
For several reasons because of this
I can no longer make myself happy
No longer do I find joy.
On doing things on my own
But I can make others believe
I am carefree
Happy and secure
With the days I lead
On my own, without him close to me
On my mind, at every moment,
It’s always him, him, him,
All I want to do is be with him
He is what makes me happy
He is what brings me joy
He is the one I want to be with
I am in love
At least that’s what I tell myself,
But it’s more like
I’m possibly
… A tad bit…. obsessed,
Too attached?
It’s what it actually might be
…maybe
Like a baby to its mother
I must cut the umbilical cord
It can’t be healthy
This obsession
This attachment
This thing I call
….Love
But it’s easier said than done
I want to find myself
In this thing I call “we”
From now until forever
is what we say we’ll be
And I believe it, I really do
It’s just…
…I’m not happy with who I am
With whom I’ve become
I need to be happy and find joy
In things without him and on my own
Find my independence
While still being committed
Because I don’t won’t to lose “us”
you
Where did it go?
My independence I mean
There was a time when I could live
Without you constantly in mind
I could go days and months without seeing you and be completely fine
Now a second goes by in which you’re nowhere close to me and I find myself in tears and begging for your return
With no end in sight
….although you say there is
Our long distance is eating me alive
Depriving me of joy, of happiness and “us”
I have come to a conclusion that to be happy
I need you…
not far away, but by my side
I love you with all my heart, my soul and every ounce of my mind
So will you forgive me, every time I get mad, every time I get snippy and every time I sass. It is only because I haven’t seen you, or touched you, or kissed your lovely lips
It’s all I want and all I really need. It is what makes me happy, and you are what makes me, “me”
Jan 10, 2012
Jan 10, 2012 at 1:05 AM UTC
Christmas used to be fun
I'd run around happily
Now i'm just snippy
and short with my family
I get so angry
and i dont know why
but Christmas just makes me want to cry
My unemployed mom can put presents under the tree
but me with my two jobs can't afford to buy my family anything
Tis the season of suicidal thoughts
shame, guilt, feeling less blessed, more lost
I need to stay strong though i dont want to be here
I'll just ask for a hotel room to be alone next year
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 10:38 AM UTC
Break ups aren't looking at the city's skyline and realizing a whole new world ahead of you
They're not being able to get out of bed because the sadness has consumed even your bones
They aren't eating ice cream while watching a chick flick with your friends
They're 7 pounds of weight disappearing in a week because all you want is the taste of their lips
They are not listening to a playlist of break-up songs and feeling better
They are not being able to hear anything but the sound of his voice when he gets out of your car for the last ******* time when he says "I'm sorry, thanks for the ride."
They are not quietly crying to yourself alone in your room
They're headaches from screaming hard your muscles ache
They are not about forgiving yourself
They're sleeping till one pm and going to bed at 3 am because you can't seem to stop thinking about all the things you should've said
They're not drowning yourself in ***** so you can forget
They're waking up in the middle of the night infuriated and screaming into your sheets "Why me?"
They are not having everyone support you
They are listening to the snippy girls in the hallway call you "pyscho" even though they have no idea you are holding back tears
They aren't being able to move on
They are watching you first love walk down the hallway looking at her they way he used to look at you and it feels like you just got shot but can't seem to die so you live with the pain
They are not looking at the world and still seeing light despite your darkness.
They are hours in your room thinking "if the person I care about the most isn't going to give a **** about me, then what is the point?"
Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 12:27 AM UTC
No one can wholly understand love
Love is never what one thinks it is
Love often comes as a snippy surprise
As a starry shock stemming from above.
Love is a hieroglyphic puzzle
Love has the power to muzzle
Shackle, overpower, direct and destroy
Love can be a very volatile or hazardous toy.
As soon as one is somewhat comfortable
Love shows her ugly fangs on the table
Love is not always a beautiful spring.
Love behave like a cunning chameleon
Love behaves like an uncommon phenomenon
No one can completely comprehend this thing.
Copyright © October 2024, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of numerous collections of poetry.
Oct 30, 2024
Oct 30, 2024 at 10:31 AM UTC
Every time I look at her, I think back to that night on the stage
When we stood there for an hour with a kiss that felt like days.
I remember the nights in my car. Most especially one..
When she told me she felt something too. I didn't feel so dumb..
But it seems she feels more for him than she ever will for me.
My best friend. And now I feel like I'm running away.
I'm not sure I can accept my decision. The one to let her go.
I know we both agreed to. But somehow, I still just don't know..
It's not like it matters. I could never have her anyway.
She has too many issues to work out. And I can't just sit and wait.
I'm doing it again. Being snippy; turning into a ****
And I really don't want to. I hate treating her like dirt.
But is it really so simple? Can I really just take my words back?
Should I tell him to get over it? Should I fight for something at last?
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 7:51 PM UTC
Lively,long love-loving life,
Turns a dreaded dull daydream.
Strenght of the strong string of love life
Vanishes and vignette vile vipers.
The snippy stud snaps and snarks
After his smooching snare you slipped
Lurve life turns longeurs.
Bleak ,black and blinding strife
Leaps in and heaps havoc,
You hassock and hassle
But bed-burning coal you heaped.
And the time has come
For payment to be made.
A nugatory,now you are,
You will die the the death of the naughty.
Jul 3, 2020
Jul 3, 2020 at 4:40 PM UTC
i try to work with a punctilious
attitude, and be conscientious
but it's tedious bein fastidious
vs. mischievous and pretentious
condescending, persnickety
assiduously, picky people
who keep nitpicking, snippy, sickly while judgemental they're evil
jerks, sedulously deceitful
methodical when diabolical
it's ridiculous how meticulous
these hypocrites are symbolical
is ice, so suffice is a Popsicle
society for sobriety is invidious
i drown in tears while amphibious
are the oblivious, and supercilious
who **** me like the lascivious
but most are naturally perfidious
& birth of its insipid incipience
always was, humans are hideous
and maniacal like puritanical
was a mechanical part of biology
which is like psychology based on astrology, so even mycology
can't explain some guys fungi
and some try to think logically
but being **** about hypocrisy
in thought can be, like ******
to the psyche, a likely lobotomy
cuz conscience is mythological
cuz wealth perpetual, comes to the less ethical so impossible
is altruism, as cynicism feeds the vision of their egotism
til rights far from wrong like paganism is to catholicism
that's why i live metaphysical
A mental visual state that invisible
where happiness is centrical
and by sacrifice isn't divisible
or only seen by our peripherals
cuz it's the only way comin to bliss
the only invention to fight tension for prevention of cuttin my wrists
Sep 16, 2017
Sep 16, 2017 at 2:10 AM UTC
I’m fine
is what you start to say
when you’re not, but
you’re sick of not
fine
And you
don’t want to be
a
downer
And you’re
sick
of having
to accept
advice
like
you just haven’t
thought
to bother to try everything
yet.
to
be
fine.
And you’re sick
of explaining
every excruciating
detail
of your history
and meds
and procedures
and life method
like you’re defending your
right
to make your own decisions
like you’re defending
that it’s not just
‘YOUR FAULT’
that you’re sick, it
must be
YOUR FAULT
Hey —
Have you tried: ?
you must not have thought of that
yet.
I’m fine
is because you need me to be
Because I am
TOO SICK
ALL THE TIME
to deal with
your hurt feelings
when you can’t
fix
me.
I’m fine <u>for you</u>
So I don’t hurt your feelings by
my feelings getting hurt when
I can’t just me honest that
I. AM. NOT. FINE.
without that being
a crisis
for you.
Without you needing to come up
with a solution right then and
there to make me all better like
I don’t know how to
eat veggies
exercise
[not **** myself]
try CBD
meditate
take time to cry
get rest
drink more tea
[not **** myself]
stretch
--hey, have you
tried CBD?
it works for me.
And I –
don’t want to be rude.
And I –
hey, I’m here for
you
So instead of being who I am
and owning my try, but
getting snippy when you’ve
beat me with your
good intentions
and then
feeling guilty and attacked
and needing to take MORE time
to cry –
I –
I’m fine.
Jul 18, 2019
Jul 18, 2019 at 6:46 AM UTC
Born in a South Dakotan town,
My mom loved her Midwestern roots.
But after moving out West she never
Again put on her warm winter boots.
One thing you didn't want to do
Was cross my mother; that wasn't wise.
Get in her way or treat her rudely,
And watch out! Her temper would rise.
Pity the poor salesclerk who got
Snippy with Mom if Mom asked a question.
The salesclerk would have been told where to go,
And not with a mild, friendly suggestion.
Don't get me wrong; Mom was also
Kind and thoughtful and easygoing.
But she hated to be interrupted
When cooking, crafting, knitting, or sewing.
You learned how to stay out of her way--
Little tricks for surviving.
I was afraid that one day she'd end up
In jail for road rage when she was driving.
If someone pushed her very last button,
A litany of colorful words might gush
From out of her mouth--words that could
Even make a sailor blush.
But Mom loved doing things for others.
In fact, that was her main concern.
For family, relatives, friends, and neighbors,
She always wanted to do a good turn.
Watching her kids and grandkids at Christmas
Open their gifts was her greatest pleasure.
Her thoughtfulness and generosity
Definitely exceeded all measure.
She could become obsessed about things.
When she got an idea in her head,
You knew she'd eventually make it happen,
No matter what the rest of us said.
She often had to convince my dad
That it was time for something new.
One day she found a house on a hill,
And so they moved to that house with a view.
Then she became obsessed with travel
And persuaded my dad to buy an RV.
I don't know how many they wound up
Buying and selling; I think at least three.
We often ask ourselves what would have happened
If she had gone to the ER that night.
We catch the flu; then we get well.
That's what always happens, right?
Not in Mom's case. As it turned out,
Her stubbornness was her undoing.
If we do not open our eyes,
We can't see storm clouds brewing.
I see aspects of Mom in me
In how I sometimes think and behave,
In how my neuroses express themselves,
In what I like, in what I crave.
In situations, I often wonder
What Mom would have said or done.
I might not do what comes to mind,
But thinking about it is always fun.
- by Bob B
Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 8:08 AM UTC
it's kinda funny and kinda scary
but I almost always expect him to saunter down from his apartment in his ripped jean jacket and dusty accent and say something snippy that I could translate a million and one ways depending on how insecure I was feeling that day and make me want to melt and cry all at once, but he never does. he never does.
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 4:54 PM UTC
I had a crab so snippy, it snipped at my ankles and kept me from doing anything but crab walk.
I walked like a crab for so long; I forgot anything other than crab talk.
I longed for a crustacean that held love I could foster.
When I left the mean crab, I fell in love with a lobster.
I spoke like a crab, and I felt like an imposter.
Perhaps deep down, I was always a wimp.
Maybe I should have found a sweet shrimp!
I love my lobster, but he’s always sad.
He’s scared he’ll become just like his crawdad.
My hands are intertwined with his claws.
In sickness and in health is the clause.
He’s sour like he was boiled and drizzled with lemon zest.
You can’t just stop being depressed.
My lobster wasn’t always sick.
His brother was turned into a fishstick.
I want him to be happy, am I being selfish?
I’m on a beach surrounded by shellfish.
There are many clams that are much moister.
I just couldn’t fall in love with another oyster!
If I can’t help him, I’m surely a monster.
There isn’t a scallop that could compare to my lobster.
These days he never leaves his rockbed.
Nasty thoughts fill his hard head.
Life keeps coming and going; it negs.
He can’t catch up with his ten little legs.
He never interacts with the other shellfish.
I want him to be happy, am I being selfish?
I think of how I ran away from the crab.
Did I leave him in his sickness and make out with a scab?
He was abandoned and his trust was left cinched.
Surely I shouldn’t endure being pinched.
Fish act like love is only advantageous.
Let’s not forget that sickness is contagious.
I guess you can say I’m somewhat seasick.
Lobster loving isn’t always a picnic.
My lobster feels like he can’t function as a shellfish.
I just want him to be happy, and I’m being selfish.
Apr 8, 2024
Apr 8, 2024 at 12:34 AM UTC