"toon" poems
If I could be a cartoon character
Which one would I be
I thought about being Fred Flinstone
But he's too old-fashioned for me
And then there's maybe George Jetson
A man who knew electronics
Nothing like Yosemite Sam
Who needed to be hooked on phonics
And what about Shaggy and Scooby
You gotta love those scooby snacks
I've never really considered a Smurf
And their tiny little mushroom shacks
Or maybe I'd become a super hero
Who comes to save the day
Batman , Green Hornet or Underdog
Who puts the bad guys away
Maybe I'd live in Jellystone Park
Where Yogi is still the king
For "Hello Mr Ranger Sir"
Is just the funniest thing
© All Rights Reserved
Dec 7, 2010
Dec 7, 2010 at 2:11 AM UTC
I’m just a stoner hitting high notes and your a coward in a cool coat
We'll go swaying for a while to the toon of broken hearts
Playing backseat twister in your car that never starts
Take a sip find your grip tonight you can have it all
Forget the lovers in our lives they can catch us when we fall
Hold me tightly through the ride god your so ugly when you frown
Close my eyes to chase the high only good till I *** down
Don’t like the angry silence **** your sweet prefer your violence
Play the prince for me and I will be your queen
Blaze one up make me beg it’s only good when it’s obscene
I could tell you that I love you but we both know that that’s not true
So lay it out and I’ll cut the lines with these ****** cards we drew
Jan 25, 2022
Jan 25, 2022 at 5:02 PM UTC
Duck Season
Opens on Toon Lake
Cartoon Man
Is ready
His mouth waters for roast duck
Horns grow on his head
Cartoon Duck
Is on full alert
Playing ticks
Scheming plans
Confusing his pursuer
Until the moon shines
Duck Dinners
Never come about
Cartoon man
Thinks and thinks
And finally surrenders
Waiting for next year
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 11:39 PM UTC
die ompad is die beste the detour is the best
gedeelte van die reis part of the journey
as jy nie verlore raak nie if you don’t get lost
kan jy nie die regte pad vind nie you won’t find the right path
as jy ontmiddelik op if unexpectedly you
jou drome come upon
aankom your dreams
sal jy veras word you will be surprised
drome is soos dreams are like
'n fyn skuldery a fine painting
elke streel each stroke
van die verf of the paint
elke kleur each colour
elke toon each tone
elke emosie each emotion
uitgedink thought out
uitgebrei expanded
en dan skielik is dit and then suddenly it is
wonderlik wonderful
May 3, 2012
May 3, 2012 at 12:43 PM UTC
The green handbag,
Clutched close,
Constant companion,
Matching clothes?
Not always.
Where did you go today?
The green handbag,
Loose change,
And pension book.
Made up?
Take a look!
Where did you go today?
The green handbag,
Memory sac of
Nooks and crannies,
Papa, Grandkids,
Aunts and Grannies.
Where did you go today?
The green handbag,
Held to heart,
Perched on knees,
A medicine chest,
With pain to ease.
Where did you go today?
The green handbag,
Where did you go today?
Pointless question, Usual answer.
As ever ‘Up the Toon!’
Too soon,
Not today.
The green handbag,
Not clutched,
Nor held,
But at the foot of your bed,
A reminder of hope,
Where did you go?
Today,
The Green Handbag,
Sits at my Dad’s feet.
A monument to love,
In fading verdigris.
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 6:45 AM UTC
Airwaves awash in the new gospel barrage:
calling forth the neighbourhood hack,
Abe Lincoln toon in towering hat,
the corporation is coming -
will you not
collaborate my friend?
Everything good that you ever dreamed of is here:
Marbonite floored flats with self-terraced roofs;
The swankiest of cars, in imported hues;
Your arm candy drools,
now, brands, bigger brands!
All in your grasp, now, in community gates
shut safe as society decays.
Skies spitting frogs? Pestilences amass?
Listen to the Gospel according to Bane:
in the desert, smell octane. Hallelujah,
everything we make, from watches
to headscarves - your underwear is cheaper
sourced from the next so-lala-land.
Forget your sources tiny of incomes varying:
Bakers, cobblers, tinkerers, we also have
a uniform for you. Oh you rustic
tradition-bound bandy bumpkins!
Abandon your alleyways, and
welcome to the ghettos...where
What you eat, to where to retreat:
we cure everything from heartache to panache.
Wash away your sins in wonder medicines;
Waters can part, yes, see how the Pharoah
is disarmed; Big city dreams, dream
global manna beams. All that is needed for
salvation, is a little bit of classification. Are you
left-wing or right? Center-left or center-right?
The powerdrill tearing down edifices
resonating through noon. A crane arm's shadow
hovering high by the moon. Tablets from skies
now proclaim the new gospel for the land,
the airwaves are awash
of the miracle of Witwatersrand.
The corporation is coming, to a store near you:
Amen! Will you not, then, collaborate, my friend?
Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 5:22 PM UTC
Am I the only one that grew up watching ****** tunes?
I loved those animals much more than the ones in the zoo
Daffy, Bugs, porky, and Elmer Fudd,
got me laughing as a kid, even when I was in a rut.
But my favorite toon, if you couldn't guess
was Wile E. Coyote, and Roadrunner, They to me were the best
Would He ever catch his prey? as a kid I only fashioned a guess
with each and every failed trap, showing the Roadrunner was blessed.
Now to use these two metaphorically
I'll be Wiley, and Roadrunner would be
amour, you see.
Now in every episode I keep trying to pin it down
but just like Wiley, I get blown up, flattened, or otherwise hurt while it roams around
maybe it's fate
or a strange genetic trait
all I know is sometimes living in a cartoon *****
WATCH OUT OF THAT TRU POW!!!!!!!
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 10:29 AM UTC
*A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection*
What you are about to read will shock you. Some may find it extremely disturbing. I will tell you from the outset, also, that i am quite "insane". According to the psychiatrists "Schizo-Affective". Manic-Depressive with Paranoid features.
I will freely admit that what you will read here will sound crazy. But please read on. It may be horrifying. It may be weird. It may seem extremely paranoid. But it still interests.
It is my desperate hope that you will read. And believe me. For, my "diagnosis" notwithstanding, I am as sane as the next "normal" person. *I AM NOT A LUNATIC!* What you are about to read really happened. *To ME*. It has plot twisting tension that could be put to the credit of Alfred Hitchcock. And a psychological horror that Steven King could emulate. How could I compare my writing to the genius of those great & talented men? I don't. Because, dear readers, I did not conceive of it. It was done to me. I merely convey the technology and techniques used to make any "normal person" appear a ****** Toon of 50 mile high proportions! It exists. And it is excruciatingly painful to be the subject of it.
So why would a girl from a comparatively small city, with no seeming accomplishments to commend her, and is actually quite unimportant, be the subject of such hateful torment? *What has she done?* I will convey ALL of the reasons. I did play a part in it. I had a tri-fold lawsuit against a once-high-profile video dating club, who wanted to prevent litigation by thoroughly discrediting me. And I had a very virulent and hateful foe...
The "Church" of SCIENTOLOGY.
Mar 8, 2017
Mar 8, 2017 at 8:56 PM UTC
I bled to be the rainwalker
Talking downwind, stalked by shadows, the night periodically erupts abruptly disrupting peace of mind and leaves behind the ears of corn that would expand with **** to what we now know as the sacred substance, understand this and we'll move on from this station, the hatred that makes us complacent, no directions can bee seen in green painted on the inside of our eyelid
But we did see them, when inner illumination activated the
Glow-in-the-dark properties that so impressed us coming down from the frozen mountain
Into the valley of golden fish worship,
Demons manifest in gargoyles,
Speaking through sages
Becoming animated in the full moon
Loony Toon ecstasy destroying bridges back to the sun worship
Which sees itself reflected in an empty black sky
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 10:27 AM UTC
There he is!
Again today
Playing the banjo
In every way
A skip to his feat
A song to his beat
People will follow him till the end of the street
His lips didn't move
But, boy, did his hands!
Even the busymen danced at their shops and their stands
But the boy was not seen at the end of the day
No one would dream to follow his way
They said he was gods gift to the people of maine
They said he was a boy who just wanted the fame
But he never spoke a word, didnt even look like he breathed
And everyday, without a word, he took his leave
But there was a reason none followed the boy
You think that they would with all of their joy
But no one came back from the forest I fear
They all end up gone, they all disappear
They say they leave to heaven with the little musician
I say thats all a superstition
I say its his banjo that traps its prey
Luers them into an unclosed space
Where they are forgetten by their father and mother
Their friends, their family, their sister and brother
They say that those strings on the banjo he plays
Are strings from the heavens that lightens our day
But the strings are black metal cords
That cuts the fingers and makes blood pour
Banjo uses the boys blood to play another toon
The boy is enclosed and trapped like the few
That followed its toon and was taken away
By the banjo, the banjo's tune will luer its prey
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 11:47 PM UTC
your lemonade
will not fail
to be-
come a pla-
toon of
lemons
and
the dead
will con-
tinue to take
to the sea
as they
have al-
ways
done
as for me
let's just say
madness
will be
consumed
Oct 18, 2012
Oct 18, 2012 at 4:19 PM UTC
There are no doors on the seventeenth floor,
For the seventeenth floor is mine.
I've awakened here every morn
Since nineteen-seventy-nine
I wear no clothes, and I have no shoes
I've bid farewell to lust,
Because here I live on the seventeenth floor
With nothing but bugs and dust
My family now disowns me
And I have no friends these days
For their sights are keen, and they have seen
That I have set my ways
My head shrink says I'm crazy
He said that’s why I'm in this place
And on a whim, I agreed with him
It's a crazy even pills can't erase
I take my meds every morning
And then again at noon
I've been taking these pills daily in good faith
And still I'm loony as a toon!
When at first they locked me up here
Before they totally gave up on me
They said that if I would be as good as I could
That someday I might even go free
Then one fine day they brought me a gift
Said it was a jacket made specially for me
They helped put it on, (wait! The sleeves are too long!)
And they ran away laughing as they threw away the key
Days into weeks, and weeks became months
The months eventually turned into years
It's been so long since I've seen any one
Do they even remember I'm here?!!?
There are no doors on the seventeenth floor
For the seventeenth floor is all mine
To be perfectly clear, I've been locked up here
Since July of nineteen seventy-nine
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 6:57 PM UTC
am fae a toon that's done so bad
they gave it twa D's
whar the future greets
o' barren streets
on starless nights
an' the same ald wind
a suppose
ah wi kin dae is sing
an' sing wi dae
but no in tune
for ev'ry uphill
there's anither twa doon
an' some *****
howlin' awa' at the moon
it's quite the place meh toon
am gona quit the place quite soon
as I finish writin' this doon
an' tak' a last wee look
at the failin' toon
that helped write this book
Dec 20, 2023
Dec 20, 2023 at 10:10 AM UTC
Menstrual.
You got mens true all
Every 29 days I wanna sense you all
Sensual,
Consensual.
Hour glass got me gassed,
Condense it all.
Hard as ice, hot as steam,
Reciprocal.
Sublimation gettin' peak,
Critical.
On a wavey frequency,
Metaphysical.
Drown in voyancy,
Straight jacket for buoyancy.
Full moon in full view.
Stimulating senses,
Changing up my mood.
Got me animated,
Acting like a ****** toon
Give a dog a bone
Turn into a werewolf.
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 1:52 AM UTC
"My cousin's out fighting dragons, and what do I get? Guard duty."
i get'it, theyire's knowthing twoo me
but yea'don't knead to grind it heithere
i scene gnomething oin mean owlready
"You hear that? I swear, there's something out there. In the dark."
and ire looks gold in pearsin
but i thinks knot-keen of my shimmer
i done't acspect peep'les to too light-key me
it's hall'opposite
"Only burglars and vampires creep around after dark. So which are you?"
hi've acspected spleenpoles twoo b-eats me
it's what i've no'n
and halves tune watsch fuohrer
"Gotta keep my eyes open. **** dragons could swoop down at any time."
sew know, i'm naught which'ya seam toon thunk
i'm
or yea, i no'n't, naughts
u 'le glisten to your ownpunions' bouts me
over antsynthing i chavsed to say
"Watch the skies, traveler.”
Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 3:23 AM UTC
I can hear caffeine pills rattling in his pocket, he's got the speed of a jack rabbit,
I drove by my old friend who held a bouquet of flowers, and she's gonna meet up with him and steal the Eiffel tower
I just smile and drive on by
He's been sleepy-eyed, he's sure he's some cartoon, some kind of washed up loony-toon
I scrutinized his silver tie and his shiny tuxedo shoes, I tantalized the neighbour's daughter until I had my chance
Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 4:50 PM UTC
The waves are angry
but I shall not succumb to its wrath
the tides that interlock swing their fist
towards my direction
I reach my arms out to them
embracing every droplet of fury upon me
the wind currents are spinning in spirals
my venerable ship coughs out anguish
the old ship that once carried so many
cannot bear the feet of one soul on its wooden surface
I can hear the storms rumbling up in the heavens
hungry for my defeat
grasping onto the wheel I try to parallel
the waves take notice and leash their final attack
with one big push my ship shows mercy
but I didn't surrender
the ship starts to crumble in milliseconds
and the waves captures me in their hands
sinking me down below
my breath starts to wither away
my eyes began to drift into slumber
until I felt something take my hand
with little energy in my body I try to pinpoint who was trying to rise me to the surface
their hand felt like a sponge against mine
torso was covered with blue and green scales shimmering in a twilight zone
their long tail flapped up and down
before I could even see what their face looked like up close
I start to hear a aroma sound coming from them
the toon of a lullaby that can put you to sleep forever
it was bittersweet
minutes later I was brought to the surface
gasping for as much air as I could get
I look at my surroundings
for some reason I was back at the start
the peninsula that started my journey is where I was brought back
the sand sizzle on my skin
by putting myself back on my feet
I walk back to the waves
hoping I can find my savior
or they will reveal themselves to me
but that never occurred
now I’m drawn back to the peninsula
waiting for a sign
I continue searching for them in the waves
within my line of sight
the bittersweet sound still rings in my head
every day and every night
Dec 13, 2024
Dec 13, 2024 at 8:35 AM UTC
He's just a vapor appearing on the horizon..
offering me some.
He's just a musical tune,
a story that I zoomed in on ta listen ta its toon.
And I don't wanna feel a thing.
Feeling is costing me somethings.
I don't want that vapor of smoke..
I have wings to keep me afloat.
Baby your wanting that private moment.
I'ma wonder where it went.
I need ta feel what your flying on.. what keeps ya strong.
Has you holding on..Makes ya wanna bring me along.
I'm tired of wondering.
Tired of witholding.
Maybe I just need scolding.
Cuz I knew all along
yah was just a vapor of smoke on the horizon.
Wanting and needing yah some...One!
Maybe meh.
what ever it is your experiencing.
imagining... and playing within your mindful melodies
be at ease ALLOW ROOM for my perplexities.
and excuse my exits when I need em.
Cuz you are like Mr. give me some relax have fun.
And I must be mindful of meh.
And not feel a thing..you see.
by selinasharday Rose 2017 S.A.M
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 9:24 PM UTC
Billy Shakes: poetry! Tis nothing but the product of vile fantasy, a pox on art and the cogitation of righteous men.
Billy Wordsy: And though with poetesses I often lie, my hate of the poem I cannot descry
Em Dicksdaughter: i had no time for,--
Poetry as once I thought--
Words puzzling leads to nought--
Langs Huwed: when you see words on a pa-
Ge I will kindly ask misters and misses that they remember MY work. My so-
Ng. That the workers may not write ... to the weary sax toon of fanatic reds.
Sylvie Path:a shock of light Pierces an empty **** coach corpse
Flowers shudder at the thought of the hateful word: Poetry
DD Goings: a poet slapped my(bodily whole )face once and i(neverlikingpoetry) strapped him with dynamite.
Aug 12, 2016
Aug 12, 2016 at 4:31 PM UTC
Every poem's about who I don't want to write about anymore,
The ones who got away,
The ones who chose to leave,
The ones I pushed out,
All of them
These poems are full of the skeletons from past friends and lovers, gone but not forgotten,
Never forgotten actually,
My mind could never get rid of any of them
I'm feeling it all,
All of them all over me,
Suffocating me,
Radiating a toxic hymn from the depths of everything wrong with this world,
Humming a toon that could only be heard through the ears of the broken,
An apocalyptic afterthought of an apocalyptic messiah
If I choose to die, who will live?
If I choose to live, who will die?
How long until I am forgotten,
How long until I am a skeleton,
How long until I am just an afterthought,
An unpopular opinion thrown onto a popular back burner,
Everywhere I go, I have my back turned,
Everywhere we went, she couldn't look me in the eye,
I can't even look myself in the eye
How long until I forget about you?
All of you,
All of you,
How long?
Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 1:47 PM UTC
Sajna Ve~ Das Kahton
Aaj Kahton Sajna Haasse
Khossh Ge Ve Bullan Toon
Khamb La Ke Bhro Bi odh Ge
Isqe de Phullan Toon
Painde Ne Wapas Karne
Karze Ni Payara de
Chithe Jad Rabb Kholo Ga
Hisse Jo Yaaran De
Lekhe PE Jaane Dene
Ohde Fir Saare Ni
Mitran Ne Totde Vekhe
Arshaa Toon Taare Ni
Mitran Ne Totde Vekhe
Arshaa Toon Taare Ni...
Badlaan Da Banea Dhooan
Suraj Tak Saddea Ni
Chann Ohda Hor Kise de
Kothe Ja Chaddea Ni(26 feb-2018)
Enha Vi Maan Jawani
Kar Na Tun Naare Ni
Mitran Ne Tutde Vekhe
Arshaa Toon Taare Ni
Mitran Ne Totde Vekhe
Wahla Si Isqe jo Karyea
Sachia Ni Neeta Cho
Ban Ke *** Lafaj Dulu Ga
Baatha Ve Geeta Cho
Gallan C Jo Vi Krian
Gallan Reh Jaan Giaan
Gallan Cho Hisse Ayian
Peedan Bas Haan Diaan
Kehdi Okaat No Labh Di
Firdi Motiyaare Ni
Mitran Ne Totde Vekhe
Arshaa Toon Taare Ni
Mar 31, 2018
Mar 31, 2018 at 3:10 AM UTC
At first when we met
I danced to my own beat
To my own toon
That whistled in my ears
But then as we kept talking
Kept growing closer
You became the song
That was evermore stuck
Dancing on the walls
Of my head
Feb 23, 2021
Feb 23, 2021 at 5:37 PM UTC
Jetpack... Icepick, how else?
are you the blue carpet, the
****** toon to my collagen?
Probably not.
Still, it was a nice ride.
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 11:55 AM UTC
You've been the same places as I
Hands linked together, we soared up high
Who would have known that the day I'll die,
My mind would ask me repeatedly why?
Why did it have to end so soon?
Just as we sat under the stars and the moon
We both had the same favorite toon
And loved to listen to each other's tune.
You were my savior, my lovely knight
who protected me with all your might
One day we talked, had a petty fight
And there it all ended on a quiet night.
So I stood still and watched you leave
knowing I was the first to truly deceive
Felt remorse as I made you believe...
Now that you're gone in silence, I'll grieve.
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 3:55 AM UTC
Words fail to describe
My heart's lullaby
It sings a beautiful toon
That reaches all the way up to the moon
It's a promising song
One that reminds me to hold on and be strong
For many times I feel weak
But when I hear it I once again get up from my knees
I would be lying
If I went denying
My multitude of blessings spread through my years
Why did I waste so much time on fake friends and fake fears
What I've realized is right now I'm just Here
And I've learned to love being in my warm bed instead of backpacking
Those dreams may be accomplished later, or never at all...
All I can experience right now is Here...
And I choose to enjoy and revel in this very moment.
Feb 22, 2017
Feb 22, 2017 at 11:58 PM UTC