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"woogie" poems
her boogie woogie, boot and scoot. her goo bosh vibe, so small and cute. silly little Anju stomp, unaware of self. bite taken from a chocolate, stolen from a shelf. when we are free from this life we will run in fields and see the sunset and the joy life with you yields.
0
Aug 31, 2023
Aug 31, 2023 at 11:38 AM UTC
anjuble
Dance if you wanna.. dance the night away dress like ya mean it.. dance the night away boogy on the boogy ..day and day after day dance dance dance feeling so so right boogie boogie woogie dancing to the right sing like a superstar ...driving in ya car sing to the beat ...tapping down your street hum hum didi dum ..words dont know the means but dance if ya wanna ..dance the night away dance dance dance feeling so so right boogie boogie woogie dancing to the right dressing ike ya dad ..laughing on the beer not like ya lad ..cool and pierced his ear hat ..not cap you say ..cos that aint right round here but dance if ya wanna ...dance the night away dance dance dance feeling so so right boogie boogie woogie dancing to the right dance .....dance .....dance !!!
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Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 3:21 AM UTC
Dance ...dance ..dance
While My Guitar Gently Sleeps boogie woogie is on my mind my toe tapping a thousand times slapping snare and top hat crash back to sleep dreamy night fade away is it a festival of jazz marching by raz-ma-taz New Orleans style clarinet and trumpet and tuba blow blind melon singing do-dah do-dah-day Latin fever makes me thrash trying to remember the tricky steps the cha-cha of the island girls watching how the shapely hips sway Spanish marimba mambo twist taps clacking as the flamenco flies big box acoustic cat gut strings fingers twitching wanting to play square dance cowgirls and dudes strut thumbs in their pockets stomping boots fiddles and steel race through my heart gonna do it all do it all someday roll over and change the world another day dreamy night fade away once again screaming guitars in triple tones while my guitar gently sleeps away Gomer LePoet...
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May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 3:45 PM UTC
While My Guitar Gently Sleeps
.oh... hi y'all: or rather - how did i find this in the noun Ohio?       i guess after watching the disaster artist   and no having watched the room... the tetragrammaton is so glaring to me in the English tongue, i might as well be a reincarnation of Belshazzar (but not really... because, to me, reincarnation implies       a fixed number of people... and an mingling of solipsism from philosophy, and NPC from the gaming world... no, i can't believe in reincarnation... saving grace of the Hindus? they're not lactose intolerant; boogie-woogie-boo-woo ooh things are turning, freak-y... why is that a Y and not an E? see... the tetragrammaton is glaring at me... like an ***** protruding phallus with the added "flavor" of a circumcision snippet... me? i'm fine... no snippet...     i can **** off as much as i like and not feel stupid - or catholic, about it, having, in my possession, an unsheathed "sword"). p.s. it really is the case of circumcising men as a procreational motivation, no ******** on you... plenty of ******** on her... and how the east meets the west... back in the east i'd be a blessing... over 'ere? i'm a walking abortion... a nuisance... something you send off to fight in incestuous... here's my 100 year closure celebration: V! like the Welsh longbow men... up yours! who? in the 100 year war... the French would cut off the... **** index or middle finger? they would cut off one of the fingers of the Welsh longbow men... so they could fire an arrow... P.O.W.s... so the Welsh longbow men came up with V... a salute to the French... up yours! i still have mine! hence? i don't feel ****** jerking off... too bad, ol' chap, you've been given an incentive to find your missing ******** in a woman's ***** sorry... i actually feel sorry for you having this imposed on you... the missing caftan / hood and all... sometimes i wondered: does she even know what she's doing performing ******** on me? maybe i could cut my torso off and show her how to do it? in the east i'd be a godsend, but in the west i'm an embarrassment... great in tissue... greater still in pointless wars... auxiliary pageant... sure sure... glorify the women... last time i heard my ex-girlfriend gave birth to her fourth child... her fourth daughter... i seriously should have been born a ******* Mongol.
0
Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 6:47 PM UTC
V
.oh... hi y'all: or rather - how did i find this in the noun Ohio?       i guess after watching the disaster artist   and no having watched the room... the tetragrammaton is so glaring to me in the English tongue, i might as well be a reincarnation of Belshazzar (but not really... because, to me, reincarnation implies       a fixed number of people... and an mingling of solipsism from philosophy, and NPC from the gaming world... no, i can't believe in reincarnation... saving grace of the Hindus? they're not lactose intolerant; boogie-woogie-boo-woo ooh things are turning, freak-y... why is that a Y and not an E? see... the tetragrammaton is glaring at me... like an ***** protruding phallus with the added "flavor" of a circumcision snippet... me? i'm fine... no snippet...     i can **** off as much as i like and not feel stupid - or catholic, about it, having, in my possession, an unsheathed "sword"). p.s. it really is the case of circumcising men as a procreational motivation, no ******** on you... plenty of ******** on her... and how the east meets the west... back in the east i'd be a blessing... over 'ere? i'm a walking abortion... a nuisance... something you send off to fight in incestuous... here's my 100 year closure celebration: V! like the Welsh longbow men... up yours! who? in the 100 year war... the French would cut off the... **** index or middle finger? they would cut off one of the fingers of the Welsh longbow men... so they could fire an arrow... P.O.W.s... so the Welsh longbow men came up with V... a salute to the French... up yours! i still have mine! hence? i don't feel ****** jerking off... too bad, ol' chap, you've been given an incentive to find your missing ******** in a woman's ***** sorry... i actually feel sorry for you having this imposed on you... the missing caftan / hood and all... sometimes i wondered: does she even know what she's doing performing ******** on me? maybe i could cut my torso off and show her how to do it? in the east i'd be a godsend, but in the west i'm an embarrassment... great in tissue... greater still in pointless wars... auxiliary pageant... sure sure... glorify the women... last time i heard my ex-girlfriend gave birth to her fourth child... her fourth daughter... i seriously should have been born a ******* Mongol.
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100
plug-in your head music remember being young on a pogo stick a unicycle with training wheels under sunshine of your love o’ shine on you crazy diamond run in the jungle feel the rain on sunny day and let it be misunderstood stop your moon tears? run in Reeboks? come on you painter of words chew good & plenty plant lime lima beans kaleidoscope kale juicy fruit gum harvest magenta mangos paisley peaches or go to an auction bid on T-bone bubble gum sprout beans Tahitian telecaster pre-rolled wagon wheel sweet sixteen candles Hound Dog Taylor’s Brownie McGhee loafers no? yes? don’t change your lunatic fringe in twilight’s open season read The Hidden Singer dance boogie woogie cha-cha-cha outside the house of the rising sun so turn it up, Mr. James your big wheel keeps on turnin’ groove to the little bird who sings and sings © 2011 chuck a stetson
0
Jul 6, 2011
Jul 6, 2011 at 7:07 PM UTC
Art James
After John Prine: **“There's flies in the kitchen, I can hear 'em there buzzing, And I ain't done nothing since I woke up today”** Mr. John Prine                        <£> There's flies in the kitchen, all around my eyes and head, they’re just gossiping bout me, why most mornings I’m still laying in bed at almost near noon-time, why too, them angels and their a-fluttering wings, a-flapping, still hanging around, when they’re so far from home truth be told, I kinda like new combinations, the musical vibes, magic incantations, boogie woogie, fuzzy buzzy eyelash sounds, bluesy background harmonies against the harps them angel wings are playing, I’m getting every note writ down so, I can play it well on the morrow, on my following them higher up, all the ways up on that glowing shining stairway to heaven, guarantee-damn-teeing entrance through the pearly gates for the flies and a lazy, no-account worthless S.O.B. like me
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Jul 17, 2020
Jul 17, 2020 at 3:02 PM UTC
After John Prine: “There's flies in the kitchen...
I'm following the red pig ziggety zag i can smell her blood **** & ***  whipped and wet thick as jelly bouncy bouncy belly gut trampoline oodles up **** hole bazooka her mind lavishly corrupt nothing pained her but emptiness her soul a poem of lust's dissolution so give it my red hot pig ***** gag hag **** bag valedictorian of kisses i love the sweat wet cascading dark waters that run so raw your lunch the history of projectile salad and pizza over glistening ***** and thighs the ********* knows  pain is not punishment  but pleasure spawned by unfulfilled intentions i like it when you close your eyes you appear so blameless i pray looking up to your ****** that yields its delicate shade of feeling like a bomb blinkity blink puddle and squeeze come my love for a frantic **** and flapping jowls on the frig of treasure in the land of dungeons and ****** i bay at your ankles for attention and a toe to kiss many wish they lived here  especially the love sick from whom all is withheld i know i owe you tenderness meet you in the bathroom for a midnight date where gawking tongues putter inhaling White Widow Cheese bound in straps and wide for a lady business nose dive neck bone lassoed mouth gaping like a twisted black coat hanger shes out of her rolling marbles ready to **** boogie woogie raw in broken maiden paradise lovely beast of submission she wobbles dead cat bounce
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Oct 15, 2020
Oct 15, 2020 at 12:06 PM UTC
Following the Red Pig
Hey there, Dr. Winston O'Boogie! How is it on clouds up above? Do you watch them roll, watch 'em moving? Or fly with a thousand doves? Hey, hey, Dr. Winston O'Boogie! Come! Write a prescription for us. Remind us how to boogie-woogie Again. We've forgotten. Alas. (c)kRu, 1997
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Jan 29, 2010
Jan 29, 2010 at 10:02 AM UTC
For John L
Somebody went and dropped a house on us Put fools into office to make us cuss. Made all the rest of us feel hit by a bus. Oh, no, we’re going to cry. Some lazy people didn’t try to help, Millions of us not quite as smart as kelp! Now it is done, they don't hear us yelp. Oh, no, we just might die. Rumble, boogie Boogie woogie oogie People are running things that cannot read Don’t have the background or wit they need Letting our national resources go to seed A scary bunch of good-for-nothings high on greed. Oh, yes, we’re all a mess. Cancelling the programs that helped the sick ******* public money like a ****** tick. Hiring ****** lawyers for their ***** tricks. Oh, no, it just began. Rumble, boogie They gave us a noogie. Playing ugly war games on friend and foe Not a single clue about where this may go. Robbing Social Security as if we’d never know. Oh, yes, they are the worst. Trying to change the laws so we all fail If we protest they want us all in jail. Keep us so broke we can’t make the bail, Unless we rise and stop them first. Rumble, boogie They gave us a noogie. We could have voted last year to stop this crap Now, good or bad we’ve fallen in their a trap. Meanwhile the fat cats keep ****** in their lap. We need to jail them for a very long nap. Rumble, boogie Boogie woogie oogie
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Mar 31, 2018
Mar 31, 2018 at 7:30 PM UTC
RUMBLE BOOGIE
I was banging out some music When from the dark I heard a voice Son, if you want to make a living Then you gotta make a choice I heard what you was playing That was music, not just noise Son, you wanna make a living You gotta make your choice Son, pass me that there  growler Over in the corner Don't drop it, you'll be sorry if you do It'll burn on through the florboards It'll burn right on through to China It's a wicked drink, A nasty witches brew He said, I know you is the cleaner You clean up when night is done But, I've heard you from the alley You're a bullet, shy one gun Kid, you play piano like it ain't been played before You're wasting your **** time in here cleaning up the floor There's a whole world out there waiting, just go on through the door Oh...they call me The Bluesman....before I say much more I played some boogie woogie something light just to begin He said, boy...get that growler I need some med-i-sin He pulled up close beside me Rubbed his face and scratched his chin Now, follow close young player The lesson will begin We played for near five hours Didn't hear the storm outside We played what struck his fancy We told stories, we both lied He played that guitar so  smoothly With the strings so loosely tied He brought things out from deep within me Stripped bare, nowhere to hide You got to feel the music Not just play it to get paid You got to let it lead you You got to know why it was made The folks who made this music From the normal line had strayed You got to feel the music Play it right, you may get laid He drank most of the growler said, son, now I need to rest I've heard bluesman all around here And I'd say you're second best There only is one bluesman And then he puffed his chest You met him, and he taught you It's up to you to do the rest I finished with my cleaning Heard him leave and go out back Then I heard the whistle Of the train, pass on the track I had to choose the music Be a bluesman, not a hack I learned that  in five hours I'd learn more when he came back
0
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 6:36 PM UTC
The Bluesman teaches (A Street Poem)
I was banging out some music When from the dark I heard a voice Son, if you want to make a living Then you gotta make a choice I heard what you was playing That was music, not just noise Son, you wanna make a living You gotta make your choice Son, pass me that there  growler Over in the corner Don't drop it, you'll be sorry if you do It'll burn on through the florboards It'll burn right on through to China It's a wicked drink, A nasty witches brew He said, I know you is the cleaner You clean up when night is done But, I've heard you from the alley You're a bullet, shy one gun Kid, you play piano like it ain't been played before You're wasting your **** time in here cleaning up the floor There's a whole world out there waiting, just go on through the door Oh...they call me The Bluesman....before I say much more I played some boogie woogie something light just to begin He said, boy...get that growler I need some med-i-sin He pulled up close beside me Rubbed his face and scratched his chin Now, follow close young player The lesson will begin We played for near five hours Didn't hear the storm outside We played what struck his fancy We told stories, we both lied He played that guitar so  smoothly With the strings so loosely tied He brought things out from deep within me Stripped bare, nowhere to hide You got to feel the music Not just play it to get paid You got to let it lead you You got to know why it was made The folks who made this music From the normal line had strayed You got to feel the music Play it right, you may get laid He drank most of the growler said, son, now I need to rest I've heard bluesman all around here And I'd say you're second best There only is one bluesman And then he puffed his chest You met him, and he taught you It's up to you to do the rest I finished with my cleaning Heard him leave and go out back Then I heard the whistle Of the train, pass on the track I had to choose the music Be a bluesman, not a hack I learned that  in five hours I'd learn more when he came back
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62
( that 's what we used to call em ) •• Pitter patter pitter patter Hey boy What's the matter ? • Yer dreams are all a'twirl ! Like ya just seen A little    oogie woogie wampum girl ! // Beds a bouncing ceiling high Don't hit yer head and knock out the light ! // Wamp wamp wamp Thru out the night ! The little     Oogie woogie wampum girl ! /// She'll **** yer brains out Saturday night **** your soul out Sunday Soon you'll be nothin more Than a slave - like zombie ! /:/ **** and *** **** and *** Weren't no reason To pass up the chance ! •• You'll spend forever in your sleep Throwing yerself on the garbage heap Oh well What the hell Ya give it all up for a whirl With the Little Oogie woogie wampum girl !! WAMP WAMP WAMP The Little Oogie woogie wampum girl ( that's what we used ta call em ) The Little Oogie woogie wampum girl
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Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 8:04 PM UTC
Oogie woogie wampum girl
And all the monsters went disco dancing The bats and ghast did join in too The blazes lit the stage a flame And they all recited the words to "fame" And shouted "I want to live FOREVER" Creepers and Steve did twist and twirl But left out the hiss and boom No fighting on the floor Just strobing lights and boogie woogie feet On the night all the monsters went disco dancing
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May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 at 10:29 PM UTC
The Monsters Disco Dancing
& the helpless Rather then let them just hang around And destabilize the place Thank god for law and order !! Thank god for god ! ( for he is our champion ! ) )( we are surrounded by sheepled PC liberals Trying to make us queer ! They are telling us to make love To our mothers and to have *** With the pope ! - my son who is in 5th grade Is taking a course called HOW TO BEHEAD THE INFIDEL And it is mandatory ! Or he will get no virgins for the afternoon **** practice )( Them liberal obaminated ******** for Hillary ! Thank god I know ! • :;:;:; The days brain washings flow over me like waves at the beach a drunken sailor and I boogie - woogie With the heart beat of the American culture As I zoom around the race track with my *** s Blazing ! With the cameras rolling And all the **** showing And the flags a waving But no homeless helpless people Hanging around Destabilizing the place .
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Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 5:50 AM UTC
. .. ... in a civilized country they **** the homeless
A night of glo sticks, in shades full of neon, of raffles and crackers. All sadly gone. The neon will fade. As will do the writers of words. Passed poets and musicians must all be at peace. Those that passed today, may play at  Heavens Gate, a party for the rock stars gone. A boogie woogie date. Let the music play on As Christmas is brewing, take a sip of a special cup. A cup full of good cheer, but never enough. To bring back to mind past lovers of passion who went out of their minds. Who sang all the songs and spoke loving words, until what once was normal became so absurd. The last days of the years I  cry no more tears ,except for the artist who left us today. Dedicated to the late great Joe Cocker  and A.N.Other, my last one time lover. (c) Livvi
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Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 7:38 PM UTC
PASSED LOVE
. The muse of the wandering Minstrel man |||| The Minstrel Man ( And his hot Boogie - Woogie Babe ) :: We got somethings we gotta get done & like I gotta do em with you So I guess we got some talking to do • ( I'll go first // Give me a second to tune the guitar ) """"" """ " Soft indian song lingers like Smoke rising From the hills Like they're trying to tell us something " Like EVERYTHING IS TRYING TO TELL US SOMETHING LIKE WHAT REALLY IS GOING ON :: Gentle story teller   Talking  so purely Whatever IS the news "" We are lost in the poison of the Violent dawn The violent moving Of Immature images Thru Undeveloped minds """" The nations rise alongside The midnight sense of ugliness Along polluted waterways )( And SHE was there !!! :: ( whoever she is ) • Do you know her ? She talks about you constantly To everyone ::. The song plays on ::: My guitar seems more than simply out of tune )( It is I out of touch With the moving tapestry •• The tapestry that weaves Each of us Life unto life // The Minstrel Man lies down beside his Boogie - Woogie Babe ;: It's a simple Love Story Like all Love Stories :: We walk serenely Along the polluted waterways , Listen to our hushed and secret conversations :: Yeah That is something You could do ;; Well I guess I've had my say Now it's your turn And then comes the hot Boogie -Woogie Babe . .
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Dec 26, 2015
Dec 26, 2015 at 4:45 AM UTC
.../""" ......music..... """\...
D.D. is drawn To places of remembrance An animal magnetism So naturally strong You cannot help but ignore Everyone around you and fall D...D...Deep Down Into valleys and ravines Of boogie-woogie-oogie gone by Bye Bye Bye
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Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 2:07 PM UTC
D.D. is Drawn