"whew" poems
i was looking at you
and thought it would be fun
to shoot you in the ***
and use a big gun
you shook your **** hips
and said do me in bed
you pursed your pretty lips
and said i like to be dead
how do you figure
i'll look good when i splatter
please pull the trigger
and watch my skull shatter
no not in the head
id rather shoot you in the belly
please, baby, i said
you know i love jelly
you prefer stench
to a hole in the skull
whats wrong with you
are you really that dull
ok lets compromise
a bullet in the ****
wow that will hurt
i will scream i will grunt
i'm getting the fits
i'm upset just a tad
i'll shoot off your ****
before i get mad
alright honey
let's make it fun
ill open my legs
you shoot the big gun
i shot her once
she ****** my ****
i did her again
she went into shock
i'm not dead yet
but i'm starting to fry
whew i am really wet
but when will i die
soon darlin
do you think you can ***
i'm tryin hard love
but i'm gettin pretty numb
i shot her and shot her
she spassed and she lurked
i cumed in her mouth
then she died when she ******
i kissed her good by
she was **** to die
i ****** her some more
and went to the shore
now she's dead
i'm in a bad mood
layen in bed
i'm starting to brood
two days later
i met someone new
she said i like guns
what about you?
i walked outside
i started to cry
she kissed my mouth
and said im ready to die
i fell on the ground
ready to scream
what a merry go round
what a ***** dream :)
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 5:26 PM UTC
procrastinating is my hobby,
ask
someone if you don't believe me ,
baby i lay around
as i please
&
work at my own leisure,
incredibly you fail
to understand i am me
and
i love more then like the way that i am- gorgeous courageous
coco golden skin,
painfully
i know you feel the threat of
my momentous appeal
keeps
you you & yeah you -- mystified.
guaranteed your days are filled
with shock and frustration,
haa haa hee
how very exciting to me seeing your not as experienced as I,
unlicensed to tame what i'd never give
freely,
repetitiously you've played the game,
failure must be a sweet pill sallowed whole huh?
adequately i compel my strengths -- my naivety makes
my appeal that more interesting,
call me uniquely imperfections
rarely made in to what many can never comprehend,
my life is my dialogue to my very own daily soap opera
la di da da-- it's more then my sultry walk
as i pass you on bye.
in this corrupted jungle
you have to win or be inhibited by
what others may call taboos,
whew weee your so serious,
chasing prey only to tease-- lingering doubts?
catch me-- i bet you can't.
innocently the line's been crossed
yet
speak not of what should be!
only-- this--
is what you'll know ; procrastinating is my hobby!
I Am The Lioness!
(some may be lost on what i wrote&say; but ok lol)
Always Me Ayeshah
Mar 24, 2010
Mar 24, 2010 at 8:38 PM UTC
.
A man has a wolf, a goat and a head of cabbage. While traveling, the group comes to a river's edge. The river is wide with a swift current.
The man obtains a very small boat/raft, floating thing. So small in fact he can only take one of the three at one time. Here is the problem. If he takes the cabbage, the wolf would surely eat the goat. But if he takes the wolf, the goat would surely eat the head of cabbage. How can he get himself, the wolf, the goat and the head of cabbage all safely across the river to the other side?
Take a moment and try to figure it out then read my little story to help you along. Have fun and I'll see you on the other side of the river.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
***There once was a man from Afghanistan
with his wolf, some cabbage and goat
set forth to cross the desert remote
they trudged for days on end, maybe as long as a week
whew!! the smell of that cabbage **** did it wreak
over dunes and hills to a mountain's ledge
which lead them down to the river's edge.
Now the wolf was a master over hill and dale
but crossing the river, he would surely fail
with cabbage as baggage and a goat that won't float
he knew in an instant, he needed a boat.
He stammered, and scratched and pondered awhile
he couldn't decipher how they could all cross The Nile
He grabbed a few pieces of floating wood
and lashed them together a tight as he could
He stared at his float, then peered the wolf,
back to the float then to the goat, Hum,
with cabbage, wolf and goat to tote
he prayed to his God, I need a small boat
Then all of sudden sand blew in his eye
and a rumbling voice came out of the sky
F- E- R- R- Y
Now everyone knows that wolf eats goat
and a goat will eat anything especially cabbage
But did you know that nothing rhymes
with cabbage and wolf, except
for wolf and cabbage blah blah blhababage.
So there my friends the problem is solved
if you are able to postulate.
Just carefully follow these simple steps
one, through six, seven and eight.***
1. take the goat over 2. come back get cabbage 3. take cabbage over 4. bring goat back
5. leave goat 6. take the wolf over 7. come back, get goat 8. take goat over again
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 7:14 AM UTC
----------x---------x---------x----------x----------
*Our Donald J. Trump, he's the president of the United States
In America and Washington DC, He's the greatest!
He's got the pen, He's got the power, He's the man of the hour
And he's signing executive orders as fast as he can!
He's just like superman, Woa! - By 4 am he's inked a travel ban,
Kissed his wife, walked the dog and sanctioned Iran!
And Donald J. Trump's done all of this before sunrise, Whew!
Regards, President Donald J. Trump, 45 stars for you!*
---------x----------x----------x---------x----------
Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 7:57 PM UTC
Finishing off a hot brew @ 5am before jogging to the gym.
Better yet ...
breathing in your morning dew
tracing your curves slumbering
between soft white Pima layers
spurred by your dreamy smile
your fingertips dance
atop goose down clouds
shifting closer
to align our curve
toes tangle the cold
quiet eyes embrace
to awaken our space
seeking new warmth
nerves tingle and shift
aligning our navel's view
and falling in
to our fold.
... and then a hot brew for 2.
Taking in the day’s treats
as we stumble over its gift of time
and your full body shine.
Easing into moonbeam’s slumber
exploring intimate space,
unknown intensity
with a slow ease
of letting go
to move on.
...
Whew, wait, what was the question?
Sorry, I got lost in there, for our moment.
Apr 9, 2018
Apr 9, 2018 at 12:41 PM UTC
When it's not like the movies
Pour some yey in that girls nose
Hold it closed
She doesn't need an ambulance, shut up
Been doin this since I was eleven
A little *** girl, she's fine she's fine
Do you wanna get us ALL in trouble?
Haha girl, you're good
There she is!
Oh, maybe not
Get her in the tub, the tub
Cold water works best
Hold her head up
Haha fuckkk
Okay okay that's good get a towel
Get her in bed
Just wait a little bit she'll be up soon
You're so lucky you have me
Crazy *** Calli
Wild lil baby
Somebody get me a **** drink
Whew
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 6:30 AM UTC
I recently
got into
a little kundalini yoga
and joined
the Zen group
on Facebook,
and it was like
being plugged into
an electric socket.
I didn't sing
the body electric,
I freaked out.
Panic, anxiety,
and mania ensued.
This ****
can be dangerous.
I saw my doctor
and he gave me
more medicine.
Now, I'm fine.
Whew.
Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 7:02 PM UTC
Imagine a world without a creative thought.
Rubies, Diamonds, and Gold
Values that were never sought,
It caught your attention but you
Couldn’t be at amaze,
Amazed at the fact of something so beautiful
Astonishing, lost in a maze.
You twist and turn
Left and right
You’re stuck and in a nutshell
You wish you could describe it, but you fail to Upheld
The creativity, the essence, the beauty
God, I wish you could see
The marble, the bronze,
Whew… It’s so sweet
I feel I can taste it.
Its sugar, cinnamon, spice
Nothing nice, but I want it
Flaunt it, tease a little… Who’s it gonna hurt?
Tenacity, Generosity,
Who ought to be?
The one to harness something
Special
It’s a jewel, stolen from us at the beginning
Human nature bought it here, well get it back
You’ll see, because we are nothing without
CREATIVITY
Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 6:24 PM UTC
I'm gonna take a hit,
wait...........................
..................................
..................................
..................................
that's better,
hold on,
I need some cashews
..................................
..................................
..................................
yum,
gonna turn the lights down a bit
now,
hold on.....................
yum,
another handful of nuts
..................................
..................................
..................................
gonna brush my teeth,
wait...........................
...................................
...................................
that's better,
just a sec,
I want some more cashews,
hold on.......................
....................................
yum...........................
feeling sleepy...........
whew,
thanks for hangin'
with me
while I ate a few nuts,
good night man.
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 10:32 PM UTC
It was all a blur...the day I met you
A headache of which 200 MG of Ibuprofen would not satisfy
You might as well have cut my forehead open and questioned if its contents were love or lust
I didn’t know
I had a headache
Oh it was a doozy
Whew Whew Whew
Thoughts whizzed around my head in zip a dee doo das
Fugazi's of Love or Lust
I don’t know
I have a headache
Oct 7, 2016
Oct 7, 2016 at 3:39 PM UTC
wasting well water wishes
while in wastewater wading
waiting waist-high wailing
weeping, wailing—
what a waste!
wasting well water wishes
while we're waxing waning
waning waxing waging
waging, wasting—
wherewithal!
wanting well water wishes
while whole world wishing
wasting wishing wanting
wanting wishing—
whole wide world!
welcome well water wishes
while we're wakeful watching
wakeful watchmen warning
warning watching—
wonderful!
whew!!
Mark Toney © 2022
Mar 6, 2022
Mar 6, 2022 at 11:02 PM UTC
I heard the door open. It was Leeza (Lisa’s 14-year-old sister),
she’d been out on a date. I was the only one in the living room
as she came in and sagged, dejectedly onto the huge, white
sectional couch, right next to me. She looked positively
deflated. Which is unusual because up until now,
she’s been all freckles and smiles
Ok, here’s where we get poetic and rhyme, with innuendo and allusion:
Me: “Did you have a good time?”
Leeza: “No but I was trying.”
Me: “Did he get handsy—the swine?”
Leeza: “Argh! No—but his kisses are a crime.”
I gasped: “You didn’t give him a climb!?”
Leeza “NO!” she said, somewhat horrified.
Me (trying to be neutral): “No judging, it would have been.. fine (I lied).”
Leeza: “That’s never going to happen.”
“Good,” I declared, “he was just a distraction—and, you know Santa.”
“What about Santa?”
Whew, that’s enough of THAT (rhyming business).
She asked, so, yeah, I sang it.. I had to.
*“He knows who you’ve been kissing,
what you’re thinking when you’re awake,
he knows if you’ve been bad or good—
he’s kind of like a cop that way.”*
After a moment's silence Leeza asked,
“Is there something creepy about that?”
“Only if you think about it.” I admitted,
as she put her head on my shoulder.
.
.
A song for this:
Fairytale of New York (feat. Kirsty MacColl) by The Pogues
.
.
A Christmas Playlist! There’s 6 days til Christmas (and Hanukkah)
http://daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_25.mp3
Dec 19, 2024
Dec 19, 2024 at 12:14 PM UTC
Be home before the street lights comes on.
Don't make me come looking for you.
If I have to tell you again, you're not going to like it.
Don't make me get up out this chair..
Schools, must think money grows upon a tree.
Yell, at your mother again.
Don't make me get my belt.
Get me a switch of the tree.
Whew!-things the old school parents stated to that child.
Comments, many cuddlers of sympathy wouldn't understand.
Your job raised and nurture children's into responsible adults.
Crying , I'm a single mother holds no truth for those that accomplished raising them nicely into great adults.
Excuses, excuses seem to be the nod of parents today.
Who seem more intimidated of child's protected services?
Then old school parents gave you options to call them and didn't care if they took you away.
Cause in truth, it was more for your protection.
For old school parents didn't play.
You learned to respect adults.
You learned when to and not to talk.
Excuses, excuses, we hear the young parents uses today.
Make even kids of old school parents have more respect for the way they was raised.
Church, wasn't an option in dad eyes.
Even if he regularly didn't attend church.
He made sure the kids got up and rise.
It kept mother on his side.
And if he attended church, he could see the joy in your mother's smile.
Too many excuses us used by parents today.
Then back in days of old the responsibility was a total group of committees.
Mothers, grandmothers, grandfathers and yes, even there or not there fathers.
Along with aunts and uncles that held reign of reeling you in before trouble begin.
Then ,those were the days that many reflects upon.
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 11:30 PM UTC
Startled!
You were sleep talking
I wrap my arms around you
The fan spins above us
The sun is peeking from behind the curtains
Chirping birds welcome the evening
A passing car honks
But my warmth comforts you
I lay a silent kiss on you
Whew!
You are sleeping again
My little busy bee gets some more rest
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 6:20 AM UTC
Jungle Jim
I step quietly through the foliage
each step one foot in front of the other
thorny bushes reaching out to grab me
large webs with entrapped insects
being very careful watching intently
poisionous snakes are abound
an occasional grunt from gators
warning not to come any closer
they guard their young viciously
my exploring buddy Jim warning me
about the wild boar seen lately
large prehistoric looking birds swooping
and making screeching sounds
finally I hear I got it I got it
the treasure we had been seeking
now to retrieve it and make our way
our way back out of this jungle
look out for the huge spider I yell
and Jim ducks just in time
we finally see the clearing ahead
whew! Wasn't sure we would get back
dam Jim next time be more careful
next time hit your 7 iron instead
now what did you get on that hole?
Gomer LePoet ....
Sep 2, 2011
Sep 2, 2011 at 3:43 AM UTC
If he says one day, he takes seven.
Does he know it shortens his life.
A two month job takes a year off him.
His runs to the lumber mill, and beer,
To the hardware store, and tokes;
Then to the beer store,
And smokes.
Sometimes, not often, but occasionally,
Whiskey and wine,
With beer.
And the morphine for his back... whew!
Seven to one ratio sounds true,
but poor odds.
In his favour, he's below average
in height,
like a small dog,
it helps longevity.
In most small dogs,
In what we call the Free World,
With government assisted suicide.
There's a call coming in.
George G is building a shed
Out back.
Gotta go.
Jan 16, 2017
Jan 16, 2017 at 10:51 PM UTC
in the arms of a stranger, it's so long to 'how long,'
the ending-writ being composed in the arms of a stranger,
the surprise, the uncomplicated simplicity of a "yes, why not"
the normalcy of the out of the ordinary has a finery that's
abnormally kind in a peculiar way & a comfortable shiny finish of a cry and a 'whew,' a laugh, a pause, a kiss on the nose,
that's familiar from a who knows me, who knows where, a silence,
a kindness to pass the collection plate of stored memory genes now
kickstarted hot and then a transition to the here and now of
hysterically funny bad jokes, a beer and a wine, and a Samuel Barber adagio that seals some of the open wounds and one can't stop thinking, thank god for the little things, the big ones never get resolved anyway, so the arms of a stranger, the long neck, tan shoulders, the eyes culling a list of unasked questions, looking for the crease in the pauses and an entry point to the decision of crossing the river of no return from the security of being strangers, whose bodies sang a two part harmony coming to a closing, last call from the barkeep lady tossing you your pants with an
awshit and the widest Mississippi River grin you've ever seen
and she asks do you like steak and laughs when the response is "with extra sizzle and Heinz ketchup" and the answer means the other questions will keep, at least for now and until
the violin weeping of a chest breathing hard but slow on the device
has played thrice, and the arms of easy are now fraught with the scent of risk, when the next the line is crossed with a followup of
"fries or baked potato?"
and it's too late, the memory machine has started recording and what is truly strange is that you can't recall what the day of the week tomorrow will be and if you have any plans that must be kept and that doesn't seem to be of any concern of anybody in the immediate vicinity of the her who's unconsciously humming the wholly appropriate, interesting choice, best love song, that Dolly Parton ever wrote^
Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 5:51 PM UTC
I just heard about the near miss.
My mind was elsewhere.
Pleased to hear about Syria,
But it was elsewhere.
I didn't know Pippa had a wardrobe malfunction,
The loss of the Toronto Blue Jays,
The deformed frogs and west coast fires,
And the downing of a 747 somewhere in the Asiatic Sea.
Big news. Bigger problems!
But, like I said, my mind was elsewhere.
Like the ten million payout to the terrorist from Canada
Whose human rights were violated.
I didn't hear that one til today.
I just heard there's been a few transformations
For Caitlyn and Donald. Hope they like their new lives.
My mind was elsewhere,
And I've left it there.
Whew!
Did you hear something about North Korea launching ICBM's?
Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 8:18 AM UTC
Can't help myself
as I watch your
mouth open wide
as you attempt to
cover it up by hand
Your eyes close ever so
tight that a single tear
trickles down your
soft feminine cheek
My involuntary reflex
takes hold I mirror
your weary action
Ironically, everyone
near me reacts in a
similar fashion thus
becoming infectious
Not bored or tired,
however sometimes
it just happens to me.
Did I drool as I check
my dry chin... whew,
not this time.
Oct 26, 2016
Oct 26, 2016 at 4:29 AM UTC
For Joshua Haines
Thanks for the invite kid,
but I am bulky enough
and don't need your weight
to carry
**** good writer
you are,
not a concede,
not an aiming to please,
"just the facts, ma'am"
not even twenty one
commander of the ship from
a mooring slipped,
a poetic trip well-begun
but
Follow for Follow?
no babe,
passing dude,
passed that point
of no purposed-return,
trading points and
placing my self worth
on a scale of followers,
or ranted counts of page views
I may read you
cause write quite nicely,
but I don't inflate
nobody's ego,
for their own fake sake
counting false gods
got my people forty years
of desert wandering,
after 400 years of penal servitude,
so I have done my hard time,
for that exact crime
Whew!
That felt good!
you must of got me confused
with another whew
I was young once
till very recently,
even tho I am
four decades plus
you senior
so here is my story,
don't swap spit or follows,
or likes for show,
those who have my heart,
have my words freely
my audience is the sun,
my numerology glorious,
the blades of green beneath
my rabbits happy bunny dancing,
for every verse pleasured
those I count on,
ask not,
for they like me for the who in my poetry,
knowing fullness and well,
mine is theirs,
no need to trade favors
I will read your words,
but not for you,
but for them,
the best part
of the best of you
Let us together,
think about that...
and if ever there were a blade upon to fall,
this notion is both sharp,
and the map to freedom
good luck to us both...
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 11:05 AM UTC
This is the story of Good-Time Tim
That I sit down to tell you today
No matter the weather
No matter the season
This man just wanted to play
And rain always calls for a raincoat
Boots and a hat for good measure
But Tim didn't need any protection from the storm
In the downpour in fact he took pleasure
His father put the pressure on
From a young age expected perfection
So when he grew up he got the hell out of dodge
Moved far away from parental correction
He was always in a drinking mood
Any time of day or night
If you caught him four drinks or more in
Whew! He was quite a sloppy sight!
This is the story of Good-Time Tim
That I sit down to tell you today
No matter the weather
No matter the season
This man just wanted to play
He drank hard alcohol and beer
Without discrimination
Either one would work just fine
For his goal of inebriation
He was a bit too rough on his body
Which is an overly gross understatement
He neglected his health and mental well-being
In reckless pursuit of entertainment
He wasted his life away getting wasted
Never pausing to consider that he might be missing out
Too self-destructive to attract a wife
So a family he chose to live without
This is the story of Good-Time Tim
That I sit down to tell you today
No matter the weather
No matter the season
This man just wanted to play
There was the time Tim broke his shoulder
Falling out of a tree
Because someone bet he couldn't reach the top
A task that proved to be an impossibility
Tim hardly ever brushed his teeth
So they all fell out by age 45
But considering his lifestyle
He was just lucky to still be alive
Surprisingly he was a religious man
Although not one page of the bible did he read
He had heard Jesus turned water to wine
That was all the preaching he'd ever need
This is the story of Good-Time Tim
That I sit down to tell you today
No matter the weather
No matter the season
This man just wanted to play
As he grew old he began to slow down
But not once did he ever regret
The countless mistakes he had made through the years
I guess the ***** made him forget
His liver held up for a very long time
But eventually started to rot
But for Tim it was too late to get sober
So he still swallowed shot after shot
When the doctor gave him his fatal diagnosis
He laughed and said "I'm ready to go
But make sure I'm buried with a bottle
In case they don't serve liquor way down there below!"
Dec 22, 2020
Dec 22, 2020 at 2:45 AM UTC
Crazy Guy Sends His Poems to a Dead Guy
~for Joel Frye,and yes it’s true~
ah another trivial pursuit of trivial nuggets
bout yours untruly, that is a truly truly,
poets that
I’ve known here, but who have moved on,
it’s my obligation to keep them posted on the
au courant,
so slip them a poem or two,
when you ain’t looking to
make one wonder even more,
what makes a man a nutty Natty.?
well if you don’t know the answer to that after
two t h o u s a n d plus poems, you are not getting me
but Joel Frye,
mutual enjoyed our scribblings,
yeah, he got me,
so via social media,
keep him posted of my latest écrits,
fancy french for scribbles,
of course he gets them
before me,
in so far I assume
my thots are known to rise
or more likely drop,
even before
they traverse that narrow passage between my ears…
but really, just in case,
in the peace and quiet
of the hubbub above, with all them comings and goings,
he, God forbid, (ha!), he may overlook my inane insanities,
and the weirdness
of my compositions,
real, ethereal and in between~al,
that’s a great whew~relief knowing,
at least
some one!
is reading my stuff…
natty
Dec 17, 2023
Dec 17, 2023 at 5:58 PM UTC
Let me tell y’all something
My blackness…
mhm MY blackness
whew chilleee when i tell y’all MY BLACK - NESS
that **** is MAGICAL
y'all heard me?
MA - GI - CAL
do yall see my skin?
The color? the undertones? it’s glowing huh?
this melanin i can guarantee you it aint nothing to play with
and definitely not something to slander
this **** is beautiful
I promise you my blackness is no lie
my blackness isn't what these people are portraying it to be
my blackness is not the poverty you see on tvs
it is not the violence they show you on the media
my blackness is not loud
not ghetto
not ratchet
not ill-mannered
and definitely not what
my blackness is forgiving but un forgetful
my blackness is what makes my skin so tough
its the reason I'm not here running around crying about these lil white kids calling me porch monkey, ****** ni**er
y'all heard that? NI**ER
NI-ER
if I got to hear it y'all going to hear it too
NI**ER
speaks volumes huh
that word holds weight dont it
y'all see my hair
yea it may be in some braids right now but BA- BIEE
my hair is a crown that sits on my head
these naps that you tryna slander are actually alluring, irresistible kinks coils and curls
they defy the force of gravity and reach towards the gods and my ancestors that blessed me with this big beautiful hair and chocolaty skin that you yourself couldn't obtain on your death bed
My mouth the one you tryna call loud is me and the strength of a thousand voices fighting the system that was never broken but built in a way to shatter the souls of what
lets keep it going aight
finish the sentence my blackness is….
….
did y'all hear that?
our blackness is luxurious, victorious definitely not notorious, uplifting, persisting, y'all know this one forgiving but un forgetting, natural, masterful our **** is far from artificial, untamed, unashamed, worthy of all acclaim, raw, outlawed, in desperate need of equality before the law, we’re fighting we’re tired help us out y'all
give us this equality
y'all walking around not worrying about a **** thing
but you ever grew up in a system that was built to put you and your whole family behind metaphorical bars
your mom never told you to listen to the police regardless of the situation
not because they are of authority but because the people hired to protect our communities are trigger happy cops that want to see us dead
because of my blackness with the way things are I have to raise my son in a manner
Apr 28, 2019
Apr 28, 2019 at 12:11 AM UTC
Rain! Timpany sounds
on the roof and from the gutters
call me to my front porch.
Such music! Like little
silver hammers striking
the drumhead summer-baked
desert floor. Magical music
murmuring to my muse.
Petrichor, after an extended
dry spell, lingers. Nestling in
my nostrils. How could two
chemical reactions create
such delicious desert desiring?
Duplicity of dust and drought
with a wet, wondrous wealth
of water! Whew... hoo!
My eager eyes behold emerald
instead of dull khaki, brown
and olive hues, odalisque
forms of the prickly pear
will become plump in their
passionate love of
precipitation! Ahhhh...!!
What a joy to behold
the crystal curtain once more!
Small beads of moisture
form on my forehead
and fingers. Fascinating
to feel the hairs on my arms
stand up with the
electricity of negative ions...
Every sense is smothered
with summer storm extract...
ECSTASY!!!
Jul 14, 2019
Jul 14, 2019 at 3:19 AM UTC