"ssshhh" poems
I found a lamp, a broken lamp,
keeps shining despite broken.
A magic lamp from a magic land,
Genie's home, o, sweet home.
Three wishes won't ever do,
three wishes crawling from
you;
Seems broken, o, yeah, it's
a broken lamp, a broken lamp from a broken land,
keeps shining despite broken.
Say your three wishes already,
says Genie.
I am writing a poetry, I whisper quietly.
What do you wish it would be? asks Genie, gently.
Ssshhh, you are bothering me, Genie.
Genie was bothering me
so I leave, I leave like the autumn leaves
drift by the window.
I leave like a sunset on a rainy day ---
Never say goodbye
to a broken lamp, a broken lamp from a broken land,
keeps shining despite broken.
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 4:02 AM UTC
No, no, I haven’t been doing this myself,
but I live in Cambodia,
and 2 guys and a girl were deported recently
for riding around on a motorbike in the ****
in broad daylight. Actually, you see,
naively or deliberately,
they rode right past a police station.
Now that must have been a sight for sore eyes.
So the police set out in hot pursuit,
rubbing their sore eyes, or whatever they rub,
maybe their truncheons, eh?
And when the perps were pulled over,
the cops didn’t fall about with hilarity
when these riders said quite calmly
that they were going to pick up their laundry.
Truly! They were backpackers! As if that explained it.
But publicly, the cops said nope,
these perps are obscene to be seen like this
and they violate Khmer customs and culture.
The cops even took pictures of this outrageous obscenity.
Indeed. The riders' rapture of being bare assed
and naked and **** free is not for Cambodia.
Certainly not at this juncture.
So their capture resulted in them being deported,
never to show hide nor hair in the country again.
Just goes to show...
But you can get away with ****** here,
particularly shooting union leaders or critics or protestors,
or you can throw a grenade into the opposition,
and **** a few right there. Those killers go free.
It's probably dangerous to speak openly,
but I don't think these guys read poetry.
They're probably busy oiling their artillery,
and even rocket launchers, as the PM
threatened to use against the opposition recently.
Seriously.
They're on the lookout for dissenters here.
Oh yes. And bare ***** Obviously.
So watch you **** in Cambodia,
especially if it's bare on a bike.
And ssshhh! Watch out for your mouth.
You need to cover your mouth up properly, too.
Mike T Minehan
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 5:01 AM UTC
I left Florida for the weather.
Where summer pulses stagnant heat,
to the rhythm of waves crashing.
Today feels like yesterday,
feels like last year,
reminds me of that time five years ago
when thunder seduced my soul.
Ssshhh.
That's death rising from swollen swamps,
listening for the sound of prolonged blinkers.
Jurassic eyes ogle leather flesh,
cracked,
salty,
alien.
I moved north for a fight.
I jumped in the ring with scholars,
pennies clamoring in sidewalk cups,
applause.
A crooked nose now leads the way,
shadows take root beneath youthful,
sun-kissed pools of blue.
I'm still spinning.
I left Atlanta for the people.
Well, just one really.
The girl whose soul once kissed thunder in the rain,
and can't quit chasing storms
until they touch again.
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 5:51 PM UTC
The water's blue
The sand's brown
As long as I'm with you
I won't feel down
The waves says, ssshhh!
I thought you'd stay
The wind blows, wooosh!
The end of my day
Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 10:03 AM UTC
I fell of the stairs for the 2nd time today.
(This is a joke ssshhh)
(I did fall off the stairs though)
Jun 8, 2019
Jun 8, 2019 at 6:32 AM UTC
Please tell me Little Girl Lost, why is it that you can 't stop from sobbing.
Her mind flashes to a memory of a whisper, " Ssshhh I wanna teach you a new game."
Like a feind he craves the innocence in her that all along he dreams of robbing.
All because of HIM, Little Girl Lost despite how she may try , she just will never be the same.
He knew how to play them and exactly what he should say in order to gain all their trust.
He had to use his many charms in this deception to be sure in the room down the hall he would stay.
He demanded from her complete silence, for this game being secret was a must.
Continually defying his ill-gotten comfort with each new game poor Little Girl Lost he made play.
Five years have come to pass before any relief from the torture she endured, at last it was finally done.
He vanished from sight a haunting left behind gone much quicker than when he first came.
Fresh was the warning that gripped her with fear , " Do not speak a word or others will come join in my fun."
Pieces of her soul that were stolen are forever gone, lost in time, its true that Little Girl Lost's not the same.
Apr 21, 2013
Apr 21, 2013 at 12:53 PM UTC
(For Michael and Cornellia)
The postcard he would never send
found its way into the child’s sand pail
after he had carefully selected it
from a rack in the souvenir shop
cautiously carrying it tucked inside
the folds of his red, white and
blue striped towel to the seaside.
Then he penned the words:
Wish you were here…
on its field of white,
scratching a black “x”
where her body might lie
alongside his body
in the perfectly coiffed sand—
in the picturesque seascape
on the face of the charming,
little card...when a hot wind,
filled with love’s urgency, came
over the water ( it would not wait)
and up onto the beach
as if to herald his message to her.
The postcard lifted up like a kite
swirled past a sour, snoring
centenarian, beyond a father
and son— oyster rakes in hand
despite the spelling of the month--
then alighted in the lovely lap
of a small ginger-haired girl who
looked curiously up after squinting
hard at the card and at its letters...
sounding out the “www” and “ssshhh”.
She pressed the invitation to her lips
and would forever search for its sender.
Nov 24, 2017
Nov 24, 2017 at 8:14 AM UTC
"ssshhh
it's okay,
you don't have to cry anymore.
I can make it better.
trust me-
no no don't doubt yourself,
everything can be okay,
it will be okay.
trust me.
I can make it better.
I can end your pain."
with each passing day
the steel blade talks to me,
and with each passing day
I begin to believe it.
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 11:34 AM UTC
SHH
Can you hear it
Come closer
SHH
Listen do you hear it now.
Come closer
SHH
Can you hear it now
My heart is beating your name
SHH
Can you hear it skipping beats
that's what you do to me
SHH
The closer you are the louder and faster
the beats
SHH
Can you hear it
Nov 6, 2019
Nov 6, 2019 at 12:06 PM UTC
whisper, ssshhh
don't let them hear you
we have to be quite
don't make a sound
if they hear you
then you won't make a sound again
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 3:47 AM UTC
Hush,
Listen,
Can you hear,
That purest echo was a mother’s tear,
Ssshhh,
Wait,
Feel the air that swirled,
A tiny soul has left this world.
wM
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 5:14 PM UTC