"whoopie" poems
I want to be friends with Glenn Danzig.
We can conjure up some evil.
No lesser imps
or minor demons though.
Only a meeting with
the capital “D” Devil
because Glenn and I would command such an audience.
I want to be friends with Glenn Danzig.
We can giggle like schoolgirls
when Chuck Biscuits sits on that whoopie cushion we left out for him or
finds a fake, plastic eyeball floating in his coffee mug.
I want to be friends with Glenn Danzig.
We can go on the “Punch America’s Face Again” tour.
We wouldn't be singing in our slimy baritones on this road trip.
Just passing out black eyes
like Halloween candy.
Leaving a trail of busted noses and
broken hearts
in our wake.
There would be sleepovers.
Glenn and me
with Iggy Pop, Johnny Rotten and
the ghost of Peter Steele in attendance.
Ouija Boards and light-as-a-feather.
Peter Steele would always win.
He is a ******* ghost after all.
We could give each other nicknames:
Goodboy Glenn and The Big Dill.
maybe a secret handshake…
Nothing too elaborate.
Just cool, y’know?
We would text one another
after the season finale of The Walking Dead:
Darryl needs to die he’s not even in the comic but it’ll probably be Michonne there’s no justice on T.V. for cool black girls this show has just been a study in emotionally manipulating its audience since the beginning anyway why are we the only ones who see that
Why are we the only ones who see that?
Are you listening Glenn?
Feb 10, 2017
Feb 10, 2017 at 9:10 PM UTC
When I was just a little kid
I never liked a ****
When I grew up it didn’t change
When I went to work.
I didn’t much like pranks and such
And most practical jokes,
Whoopie cushions, pulled out chairs
And winking, leering blokes.
It was much more annoying to me
When the liars got to win.
It made me want to call them names
And kick them in the shin.
How anyone ever thought well of them
Made no sense to me.
They should have been taken to task
And called the enemy.
Schoolyard antics
Made me frantic
When they harassed the weak
The underweight, those in glasses
Those whose noses were tweaked.
Why didn’t their parents teach
These creeps to be more kind?
Or keep them home full time,
I’m sure nobody would mind.
Now I hate to watch the news
And see how many got elected.
If the average voter doesn’t know
At least they should have suspected
When billions of dollars disappear
And nobody is ever put in prison.
That means there are jerks out there
And that doesn’t take a lot of wisdom.
I sometimes wish Kafka was right
And the evil woke up differently.
Maybe they could be one foot tall
And not quite reach my knee.
Then we could see the crooks arrive
And lock them out of our conventions.
We’d just have to lglance to know
That they have dishonest intentions.
Schoolyard antics
Made me frantic
When they harassed the weak
The underweight, those in glasses
Those whose noses were tweaked.
Why didn’t their parents teach
These creeps to be more kind?
Or keep them home full time,
I’m sure nobody would mind.
Nov 26, 2016
Nov 26, 2016 at 10:50 PM UTC
If someone said 1 plus 1 does not equal three,
I would not disagree.
But why does it bewilder me?
No integers add up to 3.
Maybe there is one nominee!
Oh yes it finally hit me!
Whoopie!
Now I shout with Glee!
Zero and Three always add up to Three!
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 11:55 AM UTC
By the order of something or another
Came from the village in between
Passed onto the royal subjects
By the buzzing of the bees
Princess Pantry would attend
The vast masquerade ball
Where wine, larger, and lemonade
Would be dispersed by waterfall
Jolly Jasper was flabergastered
When he was invited too
He now had a chance to wear his party hat
He'd pick up in Kalamazoo
His dancing partner would be
None other than Sombrero Sam
Who'd been dancing the Samba
Since she was in a pram
The Tulip Twins will bring party favors
They'd picked from the garden that day
Where their exploding Snap Dragons
and Popping Pansies
Are bound to blow the guests away
Plus their homemade whoopie cushions
With all the sounds that they secrete
Are sure to leave the party guests
Without an appetite to eat
Between all the snickers and the giggles
From those that are there by chance
Will be oblivious to the Royal Procession
As they continue on in dance
By the order of something or another
Came from the village in between
Passed onto the royal subjects
By the buzzing of the bees
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 10:54 AM UTC
As you lay there, scantly clad, content from the love we just made, I wonder if you know...
The swirl of my hips and rhythmic dance of my tongue in your mouth, are clear indications this is mere lust.
I've banished, even forbidden, the L word from the act, since this hair pulling moment is just to scratch an itch.
How I wonder if you knew that I was contemplating a second round, since I'll most likely change my locks.
Old toys get replaced. No offense.
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 4:08 AM UTC
.
The dream not formed cannot die
We worship half formed images
That look like deformed lovers
Thrown like discarded toys
Onto some doll house bed !
Oh !
Semi - human girl !
Formed from some
Cookie -cutter idea of Man
)(
Our suburban minds !
//
Up and down on the swings
Whoopie !!
Let's get naked and take pictures of ourselves !
)(
Romance !!
How I love you what's your name ?
I think I'm in love with your **** / let's go home
Where forever awaits
And my ***** too
••
Hey hey
Babe
///
Maybe someday something good may happen
I don't know what
But we will hold each safe and secure in each other's arms
For a minute or two maybe
Until the drugs wear off
)(
You are so good !
I love your pretty *** and eyes
)(
Yes
Ain't nothin more YE need in a girl
But a pretty *** and eyes
.
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 2:11 PM UTC
two.
two.
that is the number of times you ever called me beautiful, two time in eight months.
the first time we were making out in a field and the second was after the first time we had *** after you took my virginity and I remember I was more shocked by the words you had just spoke than the act we had just committed because it had been so long since I heard you tell me that.
my thumb and my index finger can mark the number of times you told me I was beautiful.
two.
that is the number of parties I went to with you.
seven.
that’s the number of months I was vegan until I went to your party and ate some ****** homemade pizza and only felt a little bad due to the fact I was higher than the stars I compared you to and I thought maybe you’d be more inclined to get back with me if I was easier to please.
three.
three is the number of months after that party that it took you to realize I was no longer vegan, despite you having been around me before that as I ate whoopie pies and ice cream. it came to you when I offered you a cookie as we stood in the pub ( after I had told you for precisely the eighth time that I was done with you ) and I was tripping on shrooms for the second time and about two hours before you approached me and I asked if you’d like to enjoy a cookie, I had cried in a car about you while someone did coke next to me.
you asked if you could hug me and I replied OF COURSE as if you DESERVED to and I KNEW I shouldn’t have let you because I remembered pain EVERY TIME I was NEAR YOU and I remembered you not talking to me for a month and thinking it was okay to do and I remembered never getting your attention when I needed it most,
I remembered, I remembered, I remembered, I remembered
I remembered how you made my stomach feel like a tidal wave and I remembered how you jammed your hand into my chest and clenched my heart in your callused fist and I remember two months after we broke up, we started talking again and you kept telling me soon, soon, soon, you always had **** to figure out, but soon baby, we’ll be back together
soon
soon my world would spin again, soon my life would have meaning again, soon my stars and planets would be aligned once again but STILL you had your fist gripped tightly around my heart
SOON you’d be over the girl you ****** and fell in love with two weeks after we broke up
SOON not now but SOON you’d be the answer to the nights where I cried myself to sleep
SOON.
but soon never came; not in the way I expected anyways. I always thought that two years and twenty years from now I’d be gone, in a different state and I’d be driving down the road and suddenly break into tears thinking about you and the heartbreak you caused me.
but I broke from your grip. my heart pounded and pounded before it burst and the force finally broke your fist and the tidal waves settled and I’m not in cars with cokeheads anymore and I tell you NO when you ask to hug me now
I AM FREE OF YOU.
my future is free of you.
MY SOON HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU.
and god, it feels so ******* good.
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 5:32 PM UTC
.
We are so transparent
So naive
So lacking in Will power
That we cannot stop hurting each other
Or being hurt
""""
Stupid *****
Pathetic dumb *****
Ugly AMERICAN super **** ups
)(
( Yeah ! YOU ! )
)(
Mo night time madness and stars
And naked bodies in the trees
Making whoopie
And all the animals laughing
And being gay
And free
•
Big time **** and the banging
And the hot babe selling
Flowers on the Boston streets
After the matches are gone
//
And the prostitutes marry the priests
And the bag lady marries the police man
& i marry
The cute little girl
With the golden curls
/::/
And **** don't stink no more
And all the politicians
Die in their sleep
//
&
I love
That cute little girl
The one with the golden curls
From down on market street
.
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 2:53 AM UTC
too many things keep me from being done
getting accomplished- like walking in the park,
appreciating the setting sun, waking early
to take the glow of dawn. Or living now,
not saving it for someday,
playing hooky-
to make whoopie
with someone you love
at noon not ten thirty at night
in the back seat, or under a willow tree like you did at seventeen.
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 10:56 PM UTC