"whoopee" poems
'Twas midnight in the schoolroom
And every desk was shut
When suddenly from the alphabet
Was heard a loud "Tut-Tut!"
Said A to B, "I don't like C;
His manners are a lack.
For all I ever see of C
Is a semi-circular back!"
"I disagree," said D to B,
"I've never found C so.
From where I stand he seems to be
An uncompleted O."
C was vexed, "I'm much perplexed,
You criticise my shape.
I'm made like that, to help spell Cat
And Cow and Cool and Cape."
"He's right" said E; said F, "Whoopee!"
Said G, "'Ip, 'Ip, 'ooray!"
"You're dropping me," roared H to G.
"Don't do it please I pray."
"Out of my way," LL said to K.
"I'll make poor I look ILL."
To stop this stunt J stood in front,
And presto! ILL was JILL.
"U know," said V, "that W
Is twice the age of me.
For as a Roman V is five
I'm half as young as he."
X and Y yawned sleepily,
"Look at the time!" they said.
"Let's all get off to beddy byes."
They did, then "Z-z-z."
34.9k
So I'm going camping—
Hooray!
I just hope I don't
Stay bored all day.
So I'm sleeping on hard ground—
Whoopee!
I just hope it doesn't
Get to me.
So I'm getting family time—
That'll be great!
The best thing that'll happen
Will be the memories we make.
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 7:40 PM UTC
Thousands of us were displaced
Started careers late
Not lucky enough to have had great jobs
So we work hard
Put ourselves through night school
While taking care of family
Finally ...
Yes, yeah, whoopee
Did it !
Once again completed school
Another certificate added to the growing list of achievements.
More bills owed to uncle Sam
Going on numerous job interviews
No one's responding
Instead ...
All this knowledge stored in your head
Current jobs pays minimum wages
Those colleges attended; mounting
When you try to get ahead -
They hold on to their employments
As if,
It's Rocket science
Looking for younger, greener admits
Once AARP comes a knocking on
Your door
You know they don't want your
Expertise anymore
What's one to do
Still strong, healthy, seasoned
Educated, no strings to boot
Hopelessly stuck in a world of
"We will call you "
So at the tender age of fifty
Thoughts of starting your own business floats in your head
Right
Now, back to school
For another certificate
A chance to use that knowledge
Put bread on the table
Feel useful
Quality of life renewed.
JRap /2016
Sep 22, 2016
Sep 22, 2016 at 1:46 PM UTC
faintly sinister smiles
twitch their way across her acrobat face
and as her rolling and tumbling expressions
make their way through all manner of devious delight
your hearts hungry eye fixes on her
come hither and lets make whoopee nasty girl dress
her favors are optional
and she will tease but never share
the ever present dangling carrot
like a perfume
fills the air with delights but its just air
shes a happiness monger
so its best if you don't displease
its always a bitter mote neath the plastic vibe
might as well be a rocky mountain monument
little miss twisted in a little patchwork dress
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 2:37 PM UTC
A Letter To My Aunt Discussing The Correct Approach To Modern Poetry
To you, my aunt, who would explore
The literary Chankley Bore,
The paths are hard, for you are not
A literary Hottentot
But just a kind and cultured dame
Who knows not Eliot (to her shame).
Fie on you, aunt, that you should see
No genius in David G.,
No elemental form and sound
In T.S.E. and Ezra Pound.
Fie on you, aunt! I'll show you how
To elevate your middle brow,
And how to scale and see the sights
From modernist Parnassian heights.
First buy a hat, no Paris model
But one the Swiss wear when they yodel,
A bowler thing with one or two
Feathers to conceal the view;
And then in sandals walk the street
(All modern painters use their feet
For painting, on their canvas strips,
Their wives or mothers, minus hips).
Perhaps it would be best if you
Created something very new,
A ***** novel done in Erse
Or written backwards in Welsh verse,
Or paintings on the backs of vests,
Or Sanskrit psalms on lepers' chests.
But if this proved imposs-i-ble
Perhaps it would be just as well,
For you could then write what you please,
And modern verse is done with ease.
Do not forget that 'limpet' rhymes
With 'strumpet' in these troubled times,
And commas are the worst of crimes;
Few understand the works of Cummings,
And few James Joyce's mental slummings,
And few young Auden's coded chatter;
But then it is the few that matter.
Never be lucid, never state,
If you would be regarded great,
The simplest thought or sentiment,
(For thought, we know, is decadent);
Never omit such vital words
As belly, genitals and -----,
For these are things that play a part
(And what a part) in all good art.
Remember this: each rose is wormy,
And every lovely woman's germy;
Remember this: that love depends
On how the Gallic letter bends;
Remember, too, that life is hell
And even heaven has a smell
Of putrefying angels who
Make deadly whoopee in the blue.
These things remembered, what can stop
A poet going to the top?
A final word: before you start
The convulsions of your art,
Remove your brains, take out your heart;
Minus these curses, you can be
A genius like David G.
Take courage, aunt, and send your stuff
To Geoffrey Grigson with my luff,
And may I yet live to admire
How well your poems light the fire.
6.5k
How did this happen?
What did I do?
I try to control it
I try not to believe it
It happens so fast
Not much I can do
Manic...x...two
I scream and I cry
Oh no not again
I know the symptoms
But they creep up to fool me
Tried distracting it
Tried to watch TV
Walk around and around and
Around the room
Manic, manic, manic
Top of the room feeling panic
Whoopee Bipolar is here again
Hoping my feet touch the ground
It follows me
My brain...is not sound
It beckons me still
Again and again
I take the good and the bad
Trying to cope
Holding out for hope
Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 11:59 PM UTC
(05:32 a.m.)
Hey Jekk! Can you be my best friend?
A friend who wants to go at the very end
Let us play ash, fire, blood and stone
Promise me! You'll never leave me alone
(07:51 a.m.)
Are you excited to go to your tedious school?
Throw a sticky mud to your History teacher's face!
Wow! That's the best idea! Isn't that cool?
Or maybe toss around the Principal's attache case!
(09:03 a.m.)
Jekk! How can you be so stupid? Com'on
The time is running! Just look at nerdy Simon!
with his precious Algebra examination paper
Whoopee! Get his answer at the first number!
(12:00 noon)
**** Gary! Look at his spiteful smile to Amber!
I am sure! He badly wanted to *** with her
Put the mashed potato on his monstrous face
and see what he has got inside these terrible mess
(02:16 p.m.)
You really deserve the hell's applause! Boom!
How can you sneak at the girls' shower room?
Did you like the feeling? The fire is igniting!
Next time, let us do more action! Extreme burning!
(04:45 p.m.)
HIIIIIIDDDEEEE!! Your strange Christian friend!
NEVER ever hang with him or you'll be dead!
Boring to talk about that silly book..sounds like "Bubble"
Com'on! It is more fun to taste worldly life and gamble!
(06:51 p.m.)
Jekk! You don't need to pray before you eat!
Just look all the foods you wanted and feed!
Don't set aside foods for your Dad from work
Remember? He scolded you because you broke his Torque
(08:24 p.m.)
Hahaha! I really had fun my coolest best friend!
I hope we can still be buddies until the very end!
Tomorrow, we will burn the city and run! Com'on!
**Oh I almost forgot! My name is Demon! :) **
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 10:29 PM UTC
My Dad built a whoopee room in the basement of our house, that's what we called it back in the fifties, basically it was a free barroom; he worked tirelessly, tiled the floor, knotty-pined the walls, built a Formica-topped bar, with foot rail, and a pool table center stage.
At one end, he pasted and framed with the utmost care, a life-like mural, a bucolic scene of mountains, pines trees, some guy canoeing across a deep blue lake, right underneath an eight foot, padded bench to sit, toss a beer, gab Red Sox, Pats, Bruins, Celts.
The guy could make anything, fix anything in his neat as a pin workshop, totally in control, competent, a rack of tools, his innate ability to figure out, you name it, he’d fix it, in hands-on kingdom this man did it right, measured twice, cut once.
In the Mr. Fix-it realm my father welcomed me, drew me in, shared his man in the know ways, I fetched his tools a quick study daughter, I observed knew ahead of time, like an operating room nurse ready to assist the famous surgeon at his work.
But then without prior notice he’d grow silent, retreat, drink copious whiskey shots, get mean, angry, tried to outrun the never good enough farm boy he once was, this love starved kid would engulf my honest, hardworking, overly sensitive, insecure father, then we all suffered his childhood trauma all over again.
Oct 30, 2012
Oct 30, 2012 at 11:18 PM UTC
Is this going to be another joke-
A shiny nickel welded to the floor
So when I bend to pick it up
A paddle whacks me from behind.
Will this turn out to be a whoopee cushion
Hidden underneath my chair
So when I proudly take my seat
The room erupts in cruel laughter.
Will I put forth a major effort,
Break my back and heart in trying,
Only to find the load’s too heavy
For me to ever hope to lift it,
Too complicated to untangle,
Too precise for my small skills,
A recipe for certain failure
If I dare to take that step.
Doubts and fears are ***** traps
That I must circumvent to win
And if I find that I can do it
I can be the hero of my life.
ljm
Aug 17, 2019
Aug 17, 2019 at 7:19 AM UTC
Give me another sweetwater afternoon
That tastes of onion grass and birth
And doesn’t care where you take a leak,
Give me the safe and warm provincial air
Coming from the west like a beggar
on a box car,
Give me the humidity that blots out the June-day sun
While we think ***** thoughts
On my couch,
Give me the opportunity to exchange blows with Johnny Rebel up the street
And his grandday’s probably rolling
In his grave,
Give me the hicks I rolled with for laughs before they married too early
So they can ride around on bikes with me
Like we did when the world was ours,
Give me a couple more days in the acrid Juniata
So I can dive in its sloppy green body
With reckless abandon,
Give me fishhooks in my heel
So I can pull them from my nakedness
And get Amish-made whoopee pies after the tears stop,
Give me moss covered roofs and tons of **** in the backyard
And the idle lap of water beneath the trout-boat’s belly
While I tell myself I’m not a redneck to my sunburned chest and my open flannel.
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 12:02 PM UTC
when Noah told god,
He, was gonna save the world,
from his **** flood
(the sorry storybook, in fact, got it wrong),
god mystified, Noah well versified
how he was agonna do it,
the man with the plan
how to salve the world
two by two,
Noah replied, and that's not lied,
see below, see below,
two poems,
sorta side by side,
but not
read down, across, whichever
One Two
starts two, is multiplication,
one X two equals two
one boy one girl,
or girl whatever,
needs you, one boy
get a room, in an arc.
everybody just get a room
no god, universal remote
one tongue, inside you,
misinformation, miscue negation,
miscommunication, no care about divides,
miscegenation, the house rules,
black asian even, white, red and blue.
got wolves, deer, making hay
got The Eagles, with The Beatles
sleeping with the, gone feral, loving
zebras, the lambs,
bunk mates, making the cutest babies.
everybody's singing, we can work it out
even the cats, the dogs,
lovers of the K-nine, loving them feline sea lions,
and now everybody loves the snakes for their
long tongues, physical abilities and the resulting
****** prowess.
enough of this two by two **** were a bad divinity idea
to begin with. Everybody get a room, learn to fit,
whatever parts you got, just stick 'em in.
The Hunans I had to segregate, cause they be another type.
but whoopee if the white boys can't get enough black love,
the asians explaining the karma sutra and the Eskimos are curling their toes,
yada yada how come when it comes to *** everbody loves the other side.
When all were aboard, Noah got a beer, and said I sure hope there is some football on tv, cause everybody loves football.
If anybody sees a zebra striped pigeon, give me a holla!
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 12:44 PM UTC
the jellied bioluminescense,
drifts and swhirls in an ****
of neon ecstasy...
out beyond the breakers
we sit on the beach
and watch,
with voyueristic fascination
as the sea makes whoopee!!
Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 7:33 AM UTC
Free listing, whoopee
How lucky are we
Nothing to pay
To list today
Its free to show all what ******* i have
and i need the space, my attic looks sad
Its full of all sorts, the good and the bad
Th Hi-Fi, the pillows, the old rocking chair
The radio, the guitar ... and that old cuddly bear
How i love E-Bay a chance to clear out
And its free, they say, to sell today
Once its all gone, at the end of the month
And i open my fees care of Paypal
How can this be, this listing was free
But if you sell what you list
Thats where they have you
A little bit here
A little bit there
It all adds up, they take there share
The attic is clear, i have lost two stone
And all i made was four pounds
Whoopee.
Jul 8, 2012
Jul 8, 2012 at 12:37 PM UTC
Lie harder.
Cheat farther.
Look inside of me.
Tell me what you see.
Is that a child living there
Or is it simply the culmination of all our fears.
Is there an end
Or does it repeat in fateful trend.
Why must reality exist?
Why can’t I make my own list.
Why am I so alone.
Seems like the more girls I know,
The less I feel at home.
Because they all say such funny things,
We are all such great ******* friends.
Seriously I’m always there for them.
Whoopee for me.
But all the ladies do is talk
Talk and talk and talk.
Why won’t anyone hug?
Where is my hand to hold?
That’s why I stay up till two.
And wake up at three.
That’s why I come to school all bleary
Cheerful as can be.
Why I have to stare up at the night sky,
And find that lone star shinning
Just to start crying.
Jan 10, 2011
Jan 10, 2011 at 9:18 PM UTC
Oy! My poor heart!
It's expanding just as
the sun is setting
a golden glow awash
capturing light as
it brushes each object
reminding me of golden green
fields alight!
Oy! My poor heart
expands as the sun sets
becoming a whoopee cushion
in which to sit on after it's
blown way out of proportion.
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 2:27 PM UTC
I wandered lowly as a star, well I shopped in Ruthin in the spar!
A birthday now sneaks up on me it's 40+ oh whoopee
So what now can I expect from life, I've married divorced and been a wife!
I've ridden, fallen and paid the price and lived my bucket list like fire
My kids so far my greatest work, tried politics but full of nerds.
The parallel is simple enough they drop their stuff I pick it up.
So the world sidewalks into the abys, wear factor 50 to help with it
As carbon gas heartache earth and we all go grey and loose our worth
I opted out and moved to Wales my little family I shall save
Just one thing left I need to do ...
Find a hunk to chop some wood
One who isn't thick upstairs and makes my winter's warm as well
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 3:12 PM UTC
Mr. Wiley is my favorite teacher,
his face is a very attractive feature.
He is a very stocky man,
he is so strong he could lift a minivan.
Mr. Wiley is a very generous human,
He reminds me of my grandpa Harry Truman!
Sometimes he smiles at me with such jolly glee,
Every time he does it I think to myself WHOOPEE!
Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 7:13 PM UTC
Hot Jazz, subsonic blasts!
My whoopee cushions deflating fast!
Rumble squeaks, the but kazoo,
cheeky flappers 2 by 2!
So toot your horns and raise a glass,
for trouser dancing's such a gas!
At the soggy bottom dew.
( )*( )
https://youtu.be/iSGzMaSgws4
Feb 5, 2018
Feb 5, 2018 at 1:02 PM UTC
I do always love writing a lot:
usually just poems and stories.
I'd need to think nice thought(s),
with many just good categories!
Writing is really, just so fun for me:
I do actually write, then, everyday!
People have told me I’m "whoopee",
and so that has me think to say "yay"!
Whenever I write, I would smile,
with valuable logic in mind.
I usually grin at any my file(s),
seeing them being very kind!
I actually love editing as well,
so I have asked on Facebook.
People have correct words, swell;
so now I feel off of the hook!
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 9:49 PM UTC
/)) :: ;; ((|
)))) • ((
<>
( • ) ( • )
:::::::::::::;
Punk love fierce love true love
We
See what's goin on **** ! We do
See the long gun the deep bruise
The prison ****
We see the ***** love
The **** *** love
The soft yuppie whoopee love
As the war for money rages
••
And we would die young and we would live
As only the **** like us give a ****
/// <•><•> ///
2 eyes in the rain
////////
Just some stray dogs willing to face
The death that is the truth right here
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
Today we mourn the death of a clown. We adorn our fanciest makeup and brightest wigs.
Our bowties spin and our rubber noses squeak, and the horns’ honks are very loud.
From our tiny cars, we tumble and slip and dance and fall over our floppy shoes.
We glide on banana peels and crash into whip-laden coconut cream pies.
We wrestle to our seats. Pushing, shoving, eye-poking, seltzer spraying.
Loud farts echo as whoopee cushions compress beneath our butts.
The priest takes the alter, but a bull charges and chases him away.
Replaced with a mime, the service finally begins.
Pulling and pulling and pulling and pulling
Handkerchiefs from our sleeves
We wipe each other’s tears
And flip over the casket
So we can say
Goodbye.
Jan 10, 2020
Jan 10, 2020 at 4:02 PM UTC
""
(
•
)
^^ ^^ ^^
You say that you love me but it don't matter to YE
That
Dyin comes
//
YE say you will love me forever
But you know
There may not be a tomorrow
So your love don't mean much
••
Everyone talks the big talk
Everyone ***** in the late afternoon
Everyone doin the run - a - round
Nothin means a thing to you
///
///
You say you walk the starry night
Dreamin a me
( whoopee ! )
•
•
you ain't never lived one day
In any reality but the one you make
Out of your busted dreams
And pools a blood
••
dyin ...... !
You ain't even
Tryin
To live
//
All you need
You tell me
HONEY
IS JUST YOUR KISS
AND MAYBE YOUR MONEY
( you know /// in case we have kids !)
///
Sometimes I think to be moseying on
But you ain't really here any way
And like any ghost yer bound to fade
Back to the fantasy from which you came
••
Dyin
( & I wanna live )
So
GOOD BYE KID !
/:/
But I'm still needin
A human being
And not just a puppet
Hangin from strings
Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 4:53 PM UTC
dog's worn out
so are we
social buttrfly
and social bee
not our schedule,
not our cup of tea
but the golden boygod
has now discovered
the mystery of girl meets
boy ...and then runs away
only to dart back ..."wanna play"
new year new school...needs
new mates..so we opened up
the gates ...
the tuxedo rex
chose discretion, the pup
absolute valour, followed
by adoration of the...omg
these little humans will
play with me, a lot, kind....
whoopee!!!
we made nice with new faces
some wanted to play,
we be the Jones'es races
some played aloof and standoffish
those with aspiring social graces
a few came in all bluster and huff
but with first words called their own bluff
then there were those comfortable
in their skins, those who chatted
and engaged, they were not here to win,
just to meet and greet begin to know
the parent of those with whom,
their kids will grow
those who's kids come first,
those kids all running ragtag
fit to burst with energy and joy
hopefully they are the ones
that the golden god boy
chooses to team up with
for this stage of the game
but when the dust settles
and he makes his way
we will be social with who ever
cause at the end of the day
we have our friends
made on many such days
our team is big...
if some what greyer
than when we started
his is newer, brighter
and he gets to choose
win or lose..
part of the learning
as for today, all went well
no major meltdowns
no social hell
just a family worn down
and tired excepting the cat
who is now inspired
the anti social thing:
to sing to us the
"song of his people"
in an earsplitting key
and will only stop
for a sardine...or three
Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 1:41 AM UTC
Whoopee
it's the Jubilee
if
not it's the Central line
and it's
if not because
the Central line's what I got
It's like a lucky dip with
a prize every time
but
It's always, at least for me
the flamin'
Central line.
I can feel it pulling me
down from my sanctuary
and into some underground
shaft,
daft?
I may be
but the Central's got it in for me
I should have stayed in bed.
Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 6:16 AM UTC