"tripper" poems
Love mourner
Angst angler
Thesaurus eyer
Rip-rapper
Suet idler
Dream creamer
Cascade scribbler
Intro-pee-er
Guts gusher
Endorphinater
Sonnet snoozer
Trochee tripper
Iambic lamer
Spondee sniveler
Whisper whipper
Music quencher
Apt-less adjectiver
Yeast yearner
Simile stitcher
Metaphor monger
Exclaimationizer!
Nov 1, 2010
Nov 1, 2010 at 7:58 PM UTC
Rustle in the leaves,
tussle with the vines,
afoot in the tree of life,
the gutsy snake coiling,
Raddled and rattled with mans sin,
Divulgence to the loner who cherished the fruit,
in the dusky orange red skies which brought in the adhen
and from the tolling bells in the distant church ,
While the snake lolloped in the stark blue skies,
Manipulating this oppo for the abyss.
The wandering seam of the night,moon,
With flickering light forbade the seance on the seemlessly never ending night,
Pity the snake for another morn would rise
For it will have to go to the *** ,no the pit.
The ***** and cuckoo within cooee , chanted and coerced another morn out !
Following the sun like the grail, the people lounged in to the waters of the ganges.
While broods of hurted children huddled in hate,
hurling stones at the traitor.
Hauling the renegade into the throngs,
Hunnish hands assaulted him until he swooned in to the motherlands lap,
Hue and cry of the avengers brought in the tripper,
Heavy loads hugged on to his shoulders,
In poise words he spoke,
''for every creation has its flaws,
And when we batter on the withered soul,
It leaves the barren man dry again,
To ward off evil is like blowing into the forges of Vulcan,
And only when tests and temptations are burnt in the bonfires of joy,
will man be moulded into a joyous being''
Hissing whisphers from the crowd spoke,
Heresy of the tripper is the hold,
Hasten yourself and bring our brother medication,
Hunt down the snake will we,
For this vagabond has spoken in verses,
Only to be filed in the trippers travelogue.
Hushed up as the snake in the pit.
May 20, 2012
May 20, 2012 at 1:19 AM UTC
She was old when I first knew her
To an infant, parents are timeless;
Fairy aunts are just… old.
A tiny scarecrow of a thing,
Her eyes glittered; her mouth
Never offered an ill word of anyone.
She was a good woman. She never tired
Of talking about blind Jim – a good man –
With girlish love in her face;
One man, one love, one life
He wove wicker and filled mattresses
And listened to the wireless in the evening.
Her constant thought companion
As so many might-have-been heroes –
Gone, before I could know him.
Christmas would wend round each year,
With Meg as star guest,
Tipsy before the Queen’s Speech,
Whisky rouging her cheeks; fairy lights
Made envious by her laughter,
My mother, and hers, basking in gleelight.
I grew up there, every other Sunday,
Overlooking the Hospital and the Tay
From the safety of her living-room window,
Inventing spaceships and spies,
Dreaming of who I would be,
As my mother and Meg made small-talk.
Month by month, her daylight dimmed.
I never saw it. She was only ever her;
Happy, constant and true.

Afterwards, I learned about the
Vying accountants and surgeons,
Postponing, year and again,
The procedure. She told me, when finally
Her appointment was confirmed,
That when the cataracts were gone,
She was going to buy a ticket
For the number nine circular
And spend all day upstairs,
Just looking out of the window
At the city she’d lived in
For nigh-on ninety years
A week before the operation
Her home-help found her in bed, with Jim;
Smiling as they danced through the daisies.
She seemed no older when she died
Than when I first knew her.
A good innings, they all said.
Not enough.
If only by the length of a bus ticket –
not enough.
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 5:27 AM UTC
If everybody were naked
Nobody could make fun of my style
I would never be outdated.
I could go to parties with a smile.
Also when I live naked
Laundry bill can never go high.
I go jump into the shower
Suddenly I am a clean living guy.
Of course your clothing
Never gets sunburned
And nobody laughs at your zipper.
If you are the only
Person who’s naked
You look like a mescaline tripper.
But if everyone got naked
We might do away with all war
Because there would be little
That seems worth arguing for.
With all the women naked
There would be an end to their hose.
And girdles out of the question.
They’d be as natural as a spring rose.
But one must be careful.
A park bench can pinch
And hot car seats can burn.
Living **** has problems
But like everything else
It just more lessons one must learn.
But think about politics naked;
All those liars up on a public stage.
Without their expensive suits
Would they still manage to engage?
Olympians played naked.
Soldiers used to fight naked too.
Not sure what point I am making
But I think it means something, don’t you?
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 11:30 PM UTC
solitary howl
growling trial chill ridden
tightening chest and pain
behind one eye
stress reduces
jelly legged machismo sulking
regression completion
seeking seclusion revolved by a reflection
churning bowel Elvis hip
flipping tripper gripping imaginary handrails
rising heat to hot spit gurgle
sweat breaking head spinning grasping
grinning
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 1:26 AM UTC
Our wilier webs
woven with the distractions of self-absorption
can come to feel
cheated if we use them
only for halfhearted games of catch
and eventual release.
He’d overlooked that part.
Then there was an obligation to prey
who so willingly strayed upon the taffy
pull of his sweet and sticky strands.
The scrunch up of their wee faces
squeaked, “We deserve
to have our glued-down expectations
met with a most gruesome expertise.”
He’d just wanted to watch them
struggle a smidge,
at first.
It was a test if this muscle the scribes
ascribe as rightly plagued by pangs
was in him
perhaps despicably defective.
With each tripper-by trapped
the examinations grew
more tortuously complex,
and when none raised even
the slightest murmur of a palpitation,
he gave the web its dripped-dry due,
at last.
“The murderous truth will out,”
they say. It did, monstrously.
Now his bound but gagless masques
are always well-attended.
Sep 29, 2010
Sep 29, 2010 at 7:40 AM UTC
We move through the night,
though the streets seem empty,
we look left and right,
electric vehicles are stealthy.
As we exercise stepwise, sunrise happens.
and black night fades its cover.
Like phoresy, painted, pieces of heaven,
the day opens with primary colors—
reds that delight, oranges that tease
and peacocking yellows that leaven.
As the counterfeit rainbow enchants and rouses,
streetlights waver and douse,
lights flicker on in houses,
and the earth blossoms active in borrowed hues.
Morning twinkles with its particular, angular light,
as we enter the still still lobby.
They’ve already set out the coffee!
With a sip, I feel the morning's started right.
.
.
Songs for this:
Day Tripper by MonaLisa Twins
Our Day Will Come by Amy Winehouse
Jun 8, 2025
Jun 8, 2025 at 12:05 PM UTC
Beatle Bomb
I should have known better, but if I fell, can you tell me why?
I'm happy just to dance with you, anytime at all,
you can't do that, if you love me do,
I want to hold your hand, and your bird can sing too,
said you was a taxman, it was a hard days night,
you can drive my car, but you wont see me,
I'm looking through you, but you're nowhere man,
had a ticket to ride, eight days a week,
it was only yesterday, when I met the day tripper,
we can work it out, with the paperback writer,
we called Eleanor Rigby and Penny Lane,
and now it's getting better, with a little help from my friends,
You say “Helllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooooooo”
I say “Goodbye”,
You say “Helllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooooooo”
I say “Goodbye”,
I was living in a glass onion with Dear Prudence,
I said help! Lady Maddona, won't you just let it be,
Martha my dear, took her Blackbird and Piggies
while Rocky Racoon and Bungalow Bill found something to ****
Julia and **** Sadie had honey pie for their birthday
while there was a revolution back in the U.S.S.R
it was helter skelter but everybody's got something to hide
but I'm getting better, fixing a hole, using Maxwell's silver hammer
and mean Mr Mustard was chasing Polythene Pam
so she came in through the bathroom window
guess it is time to just Let it be
You say “Helllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooooooo”
I say “Goodbye”,
You say “Helllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooooooo”
I say “Goodbye”,
Gomer LePoet...
Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 1:24 PM UTC
You always said it was better to burn out than fade away, like Jimi Hendrix and Bill Hicks. A rock star with no guitar, but now your in
the Sky with Diamonds singing Glass Onion and Penny Lane with Lennon and Kurt Cobain.
Come together, join in Janis, another verse Across the Universe
or Let It Be Morrison that sings this song and one Day Tripper ill
Come Along and open that door....... When Im Sixty Four.
Jul 14, 2010
Jul 14, 2010 at 12:26 PM UTC
I am a student in Paris, a med-school freshman, one of the crowd.
This week is all introductions, orientation functions and instructions.
“Settle in, get your books, parking passes and find your classes.”
I got my ID - I’m a Vip in the bourgeoisie - does that look like me?
Freshmen join a ‘buddy program’ so things seem less hostile
I met my buddy last week, she’s the consummate boss - effortlessly busy.
She’s got my folder (oh my), full of check-lists. I’ve yet to see her smile.
She’s a third year, from Chamonix, a town in the jagged Alps, near Italy.
If you want me, right after classes, I’ll be at Les Deux Parisiens,
a shaded coffee shop across from school that feels like a garden.
They have everything - from coffee to pizza and martinis - it’s awesome.
For 17€ : try the ‘La Campione,’ pizza with beef and chorizo (sausage)
I am a student in the misty rain, stepping carefully on cobblestones
- they pool water geometrically - I’m heading home (6 Av.) walking alone.
Nothing’s still, classes end at noon - it’s the city, sidewalk’s are full, Ubers uber, mopeds mope, bikers bike, people scatter, umbrellaless commuters.
I haven’t made any new friends yet - I’m not worried - I’m just beginning.
.
.
Songs for this:
Day Tripper by MonaLisa Twins
Café Europa by Quadro Nuevo
Count Contessa by Azealia Banks & Lone [E]
Robinson Crusoe by Art of Noise
Sep 13, 2025
Sep 13, 2025 at 7:39 PM UTC
tripper
burnt out- an asphalt
space cadet,
a freak of nature your around
you addict
jet-setter
voyager globetrotter
you practitioner enthusiast
often injurious
to your sanity,
admit your habit
you hound you know you
are bound to be
blood smeared on I-75
someday.
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 10:12 PM UTC
Bobby brown came down
And let me have a smoke
Talkin bout the rave scene
I don't want to go
He handed me a monkey
Eat your scooby snack
We walked downtown
To solid ground
To hear the cats meow
Yellow lights flash
In
And out
He threw me for a loop the loop
When he took me underground
But the chemical well-being
Kept me safe and sound
The lights were heaven
The dark was heaven
The lips were heaven
The sound
Like a million *******
Gave you the chillies
Don't wink or kiss the ground
One girl
Two girl
Three girl four
I don't dance
Not in this trance
A corner captain loud
I could see from my perch
In the corner of earth
That the ladies liked the beat
But I'm just a boy
In a room of noise
Looking for some sleep
I met billy the kid
With his nose full of ****
And his mouth leaking neon blue
His girlfriend
Sid had less hair than me
But her smile was sure right on for sure
I could tell in a hurry
That her mind wasn't blurry
Someone I could try talking to
She said
It may twenty third
Flipped me the bird
I was trippin or tripper I think
I loved her white skin
As it flashed in the din
Her black nails like daggers were sound
She pointed the nails
At like five different rooms
Telling me about working parts
There you've got boys who dance to the noise
Like techno party new
You have does over there
Flowers and hair
Rolling hard before midnight dream
Two glasses of water
A tab of the blotter
And I was gone before ten thirty three
I lost bobby brown
To the tongue of the crowd
The speakers spoke
I have a dream
The crowd all
Cheered
But sound like a herd
Of a thousand white horses
Coming after me
Blue licks
Red licks
Light trips
My heart
I closed my eyes
For a minute of time
Electrons falling apart
I was thirsty and worried
I left in a hurry
Your brain looks like this on drugs
But when I looked at my phone
To see about the time
It's only midnight o clock
Jan 15, 2012
Jan 15, 2012 at 6:42 PM UTC
There is a story
going around,
Jack the Tripper
is back in town!
Twenty girls
dead on their head,
beaten to death
with a piece of lead.
He trips then hits,
and bites his lips.
This ghastly tale
is is happening again.
You just don't know
who is your friend!
Girls, murdered and *****
then left to rot...
Jack you're a ripper
with a very poor plot.
Sep 26, 2010
Sep 26, 2010 at 7:13 AM UTC
En nøgle drejes rundt og rundt
tripper op og ned
i fastlås bevægelse
som er de bange for at åbne
døren de har låst op
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 3:20 PM UTC
Day tripper. (An Acrostic)
~~~~~~~~
Day tripper.
An Angel of the streets
Yes looked good in the dark with light behind
Though her behind sagged She were a tripper
Ripping through every penny that she made.
I knew her when she was young n beautiful
Pimps ran her life now and oh how she’d aged
Persecuted by the cops with the tricks to play
Eventually she became the tripper every day.
Rita was the meter maid of Liverpool they Say
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
She had a ticket to ride
But she don’t care.
November 4th 2018.
Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 8:30 AM UTC
What’s up with all these white walls,
and why do they follow me wherever I go,
at the house at the gym,
at the yoga and music studios,
and what’s up with this feeling,
that the bigger the city the lonelier the heart,
see just when you think you’ve reached the finish line,
you realize that actually it’s just the start,
because the bigger the walls are,
the more I feel boxed in,
and I become trapped,
in the four walls I’m lost in,
got in,
around age ten,
now everyone wants a piece,
of what's reaped from the pen,
Nice Win,
that’s what I should call this one,
if you’re already reading this,
I don’t need an introduction,
no other words needed,
except “Congratulations nice win!”,
now what prize would you like,
as a consolation,
“Well Sir.”,
you replied,
that’s tough to decide,
when you’re hi as a star in a good constellation,
and since we’re on the subject of constellations,
what would you call ours,
maybe Big Tripper because Big Dipper’s taken,
I wonder if we could have a Mars,
a Mars as in other planets,
not similar but similar enough to get along,
and speaking of getting along I forgot the subject,
so now I’m Self Edited sulkin’ like Culkin Home Alone,
but don’t trespass,
because I’ve got ***** traps,
if you’re not on the Guest List,
then please don’t pass,
because only thing beyond here,
is white walls that’re real tall,
which gives a feeling of total freedom,
with all windows and no bars,
no bars except these of course,
didn’t mean that last verse as a dis,
to every Bubble Gum Rapper,
and especially to whoever’s at the top of That List,
I wonder what you’d call it,
it as in this,
this life this waking dream,
this moment in time we are all in,
free fallin',
hear the Devil callin',
God too but I'm not ready to move,
so in my body I'm still ballin',
don’t call the enemy Hate,
call the enemy The Darkness of Ignorance,
which is ironic because they say,
the Illuminati is actually the one that offends,
living a fairy tale day dream,
in this story that never ends,
white clouds and white walls,
good times with good friends,
what’s up with all these white walls,
and why do they follow me wherever I go,
at the house at the gym,
at the yoga and music studios,
and what’s up with this feeling,
that the bigger the city the lonelier the heart,
see just when you think you’ve reached the finish line,
you realize that actually it’s just the start...
∆ LaLux ∆
Get The New Book 100% FREE Here:
https://www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps
Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 7:58 PM UTC
Replaying what their saying praying they bring light to this white uptight insightful wannabe rapper
Cracking the code attacking the slackers taking wack swings trying to use the Clapper dressed dapper
Like Versace shoestrings singing like ODB making sure my breaths clean, it’s my upbringing two parent
Household got no gold but I make you mind blown rocking rhymes about frog and toad I’m road worn
And born weary love oregon’s rain, dreary love to read Beverly Cleary like Ramona wasn’t cheerleading
A future bare back ******* posing as a children’s reader more like a chicken head feeder yet sweeter
Cold toes in the morning gotta find a slipper pull up my cargo pants, can’t find the zipper feeling like
Jack Tripper …. its slipperier the slope to attacking Iraq with most black troops a whole new set of roots
The truth is uncouth like jerking off in a telephone booth *** shooting on yellow pages gobs coating
Everyones names strangers in cages with rage faces and misplaced hate…fucking ingrates –
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 4:06 PM UTC
Dicky dicky dicky
Licky licky licky
Tick tick tick
I stumbled on you behind the zipper
It’s not a tripper but a ripper
Looking through your eyes can you see me peep
Looking through the veil can you hear me lick
Looking from above can you hear me sip
On the golden lips can you hear that teach
On the frozen tip can you taste the heat
Dicky dicky dicky
Licky licky licky
Tick tick tick
(Swahili)
Ni mwangaza unawika
Ni mawimbi yanatunza
Munda huyu umefika
Ni mapenzi yanawika
Na mvua umepita
Na kutunza haya matunda
Kuyaweka kwa tumaini
(English translation)
The bright light is burning
The storms are mesmerising
Now the time has come
And love is calling out loud
The rain is passed and gone
And the seeds are to be sowed
feverently placed in peace
Dicky dicky dicky
Licky licky licky
Tick tick tick
I stumbled on you behind the zipper
It’s not a tripper but a ripper
Looking through your eyes can you see me peep
Looking through the veil can you hear me lick
Looking from above can you hear me sip
On the golden lips can you hear that teach
On the frozen tip can you taste the heat
Dicky dicky dicky
Licky licky licky
Tick tick tick
Audio can be accessed on
https://soundcloud.com/user-367453778/dicky-licky-tick
Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 7:02 PM UTC
Floor pacing tripper,
Likely to amble
But like bark is to bite
Is amble to ramble
And you are the trigger-pullin'est
Rambler since Campbell*
Aug 26, 2015
Aug 26, 2015 at 6:53 PM UTC
before my cause
cuz, because
we must, i must, he ***** she *****
can i be
cancerous society
imagery of sleepy kleepy
keeps me going with the system
is a few stains of you inside of me
I am not sure yet if we missed em
****** ripped, tipper
slick dipper keep tripper
keeptripper keeptripper
i am so laid down lay me so far down
im slipper gun skipper
cold finger, lead slinger
trigger me must me dont
never back down
never submit i must admit
that its a bit of bite good for ya main
to feel my blood run thru again
i am so beautiful
beauty collateral
every year i grow older i am three years younger
feeding your hunger
loose to fit my noose and pull it snug around my wrists
oh this is how it dis-
owns me
remember February
when your bones and joints was moving
looping into an ********
lost details you didn't mention
fool me once and if ya fool me
i think you're really rich believe me
fuller *** of gold below me
as if as if i'm really tripping
*** holer of my collar
irrelevant what is it
i like two eyelids
folding over one
free am asian
asian this asian that
every sip of it im taken
no i am not even im fakin
slow me broken roll me faded
like i Californ-i-ated
dosed politicians
my trippy **** im missin
it is my one and only mission
google Zechariah Sitchin.
Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 5:04 PM UTC
A day is a stitch,
In the quilt of my life,
Each bad one a do-over,
So many, I am always running out,
And away, don't leave,
Don't fear the Reaper
Just the Seam Ripper,
Middle name "Jack"
A Polish day tripper,
News to me,
Bury my head in the sand
Of a kitty-kat litter box
Choices and
Life ...
All bad,
This is not a hobby,
That comes after
I keep begging for mercy,
my hands reach for the rafters,
Moon shines bright and white,
While grasping at stars,
With each failed rewrite,
If they edit my life,
Will I be found ever,
On the page.
Or scraps on the floor,
Or balled up fists of paper,
Heaped in the Forgotten Corner,
Behind a Western door,
That faces East with Hope,
but that is not her name.
She has a page of her own.
The miles lined up end to end,
Like silver tracks, leading...TO
where on the page.
Earl Grays misted friend, ON
to find my solace, my friend.
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 12:11 AM UTC
A day is a stitch,
In the quilt of my life,
Each bad one a do-over,
So many, I am always running out,
And away, don't leave,
Don't fear the Reaper
Just the Seam Ripper,
Middle name "Jack"
A Polish day tripper,
News to me,
Bury my head in the sand
Of a kitty-kat litter box
Choices and
Life ...
All bad,
This is not a hobby,
That comes after
I keep begging for mercy,
my hands reach for the rafters,
Moon shines bright and white,
While grasping at stars,
With each failed rewrite,
If they edit my life,
Will I be found ever,
On the page.
Or scraps on the floor,
Or balled up fists of paper,
Heaped in the Forgotten Corner,
Behind a Western door,
That faces East with Hope,
but that is not her name.
She has a page of her own.
The miles lined up end to end,
Like silver tracks, leading...TO
where on the page.
Earl Grays misted friend, ON
to find my solace, my friend.
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 12:10 AM UTC