"zany" poems
Ageing so beautifully.
Classically as diamonds do, never ageing gracefully
Her eyes fire her up, fire you up too,
This Goddess,brings forth the huntress, out on the **** for a thrill.
Never cheap.
This individual will never ever weep.
Just a kindly miss, not lonely,
So don't take the Michael.
Nourishment needed.
Overtly she's principled.
Quintessential English,
Rapturous as summer days and Sundays.
This trusting Utopian dreamer.
Vehement pen.
Wicked humour full of woman.
X rated at times,youthful and zany.
(C)Livvi
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 3:21 PM UTC
Because I could not draft for Ice,
it did kindly draft for me.
Does the Ice make you shiver?
does it?
Pay attention to the chill,
the chill is the most shivering fear of all.
Down, down, down into the darkness of the chill,
Gently it goes - the chill, the trembling, the unsteady.
A thawing, however hard it tries,
Will always be Melting.
Does the thawing make you shiver?
does it?
The big winter sings like a Sun is directly above the Tropic of Capricorn
Now cosmic is just the thing,
To get me wondering if the winter is mature.
wooly glaciers sings like Iceburgs
"Rushing water", said the glaciers,
And "rushing water" then "rushing water" again.
How happy is the frozen popsicle!
Does the popsicle make you shiver?
does it?
The freezing that's really crystals,
Above all others is the frost.
Does the frost make you shiver?
does it?
Because I could not draft for Ice,
it did kindly draft for me.
Does the Ice make you shiver?
does it?
Because I could not draft for Ice,
it did kindly draft for me.
Ice, Ice, every where,
Yet not a drop to draft.
How happy is the cold surface!
Down, down, down into the darkness of the surface,
Gently it goes - the perfect, the gelid, the stone-cold.
Pay attention to the floe,
the floe is the most Dence ice mass of all.
Floe, floe, every where,
Yet not a drop to drift.
The thawing is like a gentle voice,
it tends to cause significantly.
Does the thawing make you shiver?
does it?
The athletic game that's really zany,
Above all others is the hockey.
Pause to assist, like the hockey does.
It does assist, it does draft,
Should it also induct?
Why would you think the snowfall is gradual?
the snowfall is the most sudden downfall of all.
Pause to last, like the snowfall does.
It does last, it does accumulate,
Should it also range?
I saw the the antarctic installation of my generation destroyed,
How I mourned the water.
I don't like the fact that it,
learned to reside before it knew how to flow.
You can reside, you can flow, but can you supply?
Because I could not draft for Ice,
it did kindly draft for me.
Does the Ice make you shiver?
does it?
Because I could not draft for Ice,
it did kindly draft for me.
Pause to draft, like the Ice does.
Don't belive that the snowfall is small?
the snowfall is big beyond belief.
Never forget the braggy and large-scale snowfall.
Pay attention to the cold,
the cold is the most wintry respiratory disease of all.
Are you upset by how springlike it is?
Does it tear you apart to see the cold so frozen?
I saw the the little demoralize of my generation destroyed,
How I mourned the chill.
Now small-scale is just the thing,
To get me wondering if the chill is trivial.
An iceman, however hard it tries,
Will always be cunning.
Are you upset by how adroit it is?
Does it tear you apart to see the iceman so attractive?
I saw the the Frozen excretion of my generation destroyed,
How I mourned the water.
Never forget the sleety and unchangeable water.
Pay attention to the freeze,
the freeze is the most Frozen fractals act of all.
Does the freeze make you shiver?
does it?
Because I could not draft for Ice,
they did kindly draft for me.
Do Ice make you shiver?
do they?
Apr 8, 2018
Apr 8, 2018 at 2:53 PM UTC
One day at a food shop,
I met a man selling cats,
For the money, he wanted to swap,
But I really wanted some bats.
"Got any bats?" asked I.
"For that's how I'll spend my money."
"No bats here!" said the guy.
He seemed to find it quite funny.
"We've got some lovely cakes,
I'll give you a very fine price."
"I'd rather have some snakes."
The man blinked rapidly thrice.
The man seemed exceptionally brainy,
And his manner was strangely amused.
He wasn't what I would call zany,
The great disdain he noticeably oozed.
Like others, he thought I was odd,
Some say I'm a bit beautiful.
Still, he gave me a courteous nod,
As if he thought I was plenty dutiful.
So in search of my goal I departed,
But before the food shop could I leave,
The man came running full-hearted,
"I can help you, I believe."
"Cats, bats, you shall find.
Cakes, snakes, you can get.
You must now open your mind,
And get down to New York Market.
So to New York Market, I decided to go,
In search of the bats, I craved.
The winds it did eerily blow.
But I felt that the day could be saved.
There were stalls selling apples,
Strawberry in many shades.
There were even stalls selling apples
People were scattered from many trades
I was greeted by a peculiar lady,
She seemed to be rather beautiful
I couldn't help thinking she might be quite shady.
I wondered if she was at all dutiful.
Before I could open my mouth,
She shouted, "For you, I have some bats!"
I headed towards her, to the south,
Past some cakes and cats.
"But how did you know?" I asked,
"Do you want them or not?" she did say.
Silently, the bats she passed.
Then vanished before I could pay.
As I walked away I heard a crackle
Or was it, perhaps, a hushed cackle?
Aug 25, 2019
Aug 25, 2019 at 9:56 PM UTC
Laboriously beleaguering hypercritically meticulous hypotaxis apomixis strive
Rainbow mare aura roan exude emote derive
Syntactical propinquity habitation harbinger harangue stoic hive
Colloquialism vernaculars prurient adage jargon idiom clichés jive
Mirador bartizan panorama stalwart bastion bulwark tableau live
Canny cleaver crafty cunning furtive sneaky stealthy connive
Poignant cogent piquant ephemeral effulgence temporal refraction arrive
Paradoxical dichotomy greaves gauntlets gamut catalyst abstracts survive
Hectic mayhem , proximity parameter perimeter peripherals , annihilate rive
Zingy zesty zany zenithal azimuth entity zeal alive
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 9:11 PM UTC
Zinging the zen-zone I was in
A zany request zig-zagged my way.
Princess Zinnia from the Zuider-Zee
Required a zippy line or two
To paint the zeitgeist of our times.
With the strength of a Zamboni-
With the power of a Zeus-
And an uncommon zeal I set out
To zap the doubt that slowed me.
With the flair of a Florenz Ziegfeld
And his zoftig choir of beauties,
I morphed into a zealot
Gamboling in the zephyrs
That wafted in from Zurich and Zaire,
Not to mention Zanzibar.
I felt like a Zacharias
When my zealous work went bust.
The writing turned into a zonk-
The accolades were zilch.
I felt like I’d been zippered up
Like a zebra in a zoo.
I lost my zest for going on
And slopped around in old Zoris,
Listening to zydeco’s beat
And feeling like a zit.
But then the Zodiac-
My zinging-singing sign
Came to my rescue
And I was marching off to Zion.
I was one wowie-zowie-zucchini
As I zipped across the pages
And zoomed from one idea
To an even zippier one.
So here, Sunprincess, is your verse
I’ve used up every letter zee
And gone from very bad to worse
But of this challenge, I am free.
ljm
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 12:58 AM UTC
“Nobody owns life, but anyone who can
pick up a frying pan owns death.”
– William S. Burroughs
Through a door that is not mine
that’s left ajar from time to time
we see a man with zany eyes
scarred-up face, mouth full of lies.
Through a window at an ungodly hour
the night our neighborhood lost power
we see the man pull on a mask
and knit the weavings of his task.
I should have gotten quite the scare
when he pulled that woman by her hair,
then tossed her in the hole he’d fill
and quickly cover with daffodils,
but I’m no stranger to playing detective;
his plots have proven rather defective.
A call to the cops brings a rap on his door
that eventually leads to the lush garden floor.
Now, I don’t think I’m deserving of fame
my ego is simply much too tame
but I have kept dark things from view
and you listen well, so I’ll share with you.
There is something you should recognize
in that man with zany eyes;
don’t always believe what you’re told to see,
for he who plants the daffodils is me.
May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 8:56 PM UTC
Once,
when morning was knocking
on the dusky doors of night
I heard dawn whispering sweet nothings
in your diamond-studded ear
as you slept on the
satin sheets of silky slumber,
my heart broke
into myriad fragments
of dilapidated dreams…
On a sun-kissed seashore,
while you swayed in a swinging hammock
I saw the zany zephyr
caressing your lustrous locks,
my heart broke
like a collapsed sand-castle
and scattered into several
spiral shells on the salty shore…
As we walked hand in hand,
the sky turned grey and we heard thunder!
While rushing for a roof,
I saw the flirtatious drops of rain
kissing your coral lips,
my heart broke
into streaming tears
and merged with the muddy waters
on the boulevard…
Yesterday –
in the middle of the night
I woke up and found
moon fast asleep beside you
on your feathery pillow,
and my heart broke
into scores of shooting stars
and vanished in the
extensive expanse of the cosmos…
Copyright©2010 ~ Bharat B. Trivedi
Jan 23, 2012
Jan 23, 2012 at 3:21 AM UTC
"MIXED FEELING."
The saints
are always
crook: why.?
They have
none tolerance for ********* Yes
believe me
they don't,
even Christ
Jesus didn't. Nonetheless
though He
quoted "When your
right cheek
is slapped turn
the left side."
that's no ******** it's
what make
a Saint. But
He hesitated
not to chase the Merchandise
out the
Lord's temple.
********* are: like, sometimes where positivity is
anticipated finding negativity there
right is
the biggest
******** in the
whole wide
crazy world.
Full of
crazy thangz, crazy people living crazy lifestyle. Wide
life, out
the jungle,
homicides, massacre Wonder why we breathing, when
we living to
die. Or I'm
high? (Sigh)
when will the
world halt being ridiculously
crazy. Said
they he's
zany. Plagued
the sages
mad. However
sages are the
last hopes
to heal
the world.
Corona-virus
army, enemy
agent of segregation. What right have
you to black
me, who am
I to white
a brother. ?
When we
looked just
the same, being humanbeing.
How to become
human, Auth-positive thinking faculty, creativity,
optimism build only, nothang but
possibility. Innovation, inspiration,
motivation.
Here rode
time on the
road to glory
is there any future anywhere.? if
there ever is
a time for
everythang
le' me use
mine now. I
was told
the future
is now, I
wanna live
it unfolding
my pages
stepping the
stair cases,
roller coaster,
fortune searching
I
ride slow,
nonetheless
I gets heading
I should rush
not, yet
on steadily.
#C9_fm
May 16, 2021
May 16, 2021 at 5:08 PM UTC
I am tired of being an empty shell that you find beautiful & eccentric.
I am tired of being a trope made by authors and directors.
I am like war and peace and not like a tissue paper you made me out to be.
I am tired of being your favourite shade of red.
I am tired of being a brush stroke, when I am the entire painting.
I am tired of being pinned to a pedestal.
I am tired of my existence and my name being relative.
I am tired of being a zany sidekick to the male protagonist in the movie that is my life.
I am tired of you thinking that I need help stilling the edges of my narrative, who longs for a tether or a buoy to keep her from flying off or sinking down.
I am tired of being told – unconventional, different and other such synonyms by boys, that I am not like other girls as if they are a disease and I am magic.
I am tired to be known as someone with wacky quirks and idiosyncrasies.
I am tired of being Alaska Young.
I am tired of being Sam from The Perks of Being a Wallflower.
I am tired of being Tiffany from The Silver Linings Playbook.
I am tired of being tagged as Sam from Garden State.
Or even Marla Singer from Fight Club.
Or even an Amelie or Penny from Almost Famous.
And every Zooey Deschanel character.
I am a Clementine.
I’m a Sylvia Plath.
I’m a Dorothy Parker.
A Maya and a Margaret.
You see, I am well versed
in death and in silence.
I have my interests and I am like all of the above. But I am “like” them. I am not them.
I am me.
I am scared now.
Scared of boys claiming to be wrapped in barbed wire
but is really a caged petting animal in the zoo.
I am tired of boys who thinks romance is a Hemingway novel.
But, most importantly I am tired.
Tired of men not falling in love with me
but instead falling in love with the idea of me.
Nomoreokaythankyouplease.
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 3:22 AM UTC
hi sweetheart -
i just have a few things to tell you
(this won't take long).
first, my shirt
smells of you
because you held me like more-than-friends.
second, i smile for you
because i heard you say "i love you" when i left today
(even though i didn't hear you til i was halfway home).
third, i am happier than i've ever been
because you are something good, finally
and right, finally,
and you make me feel a whole list of ridiculous things:
5 years old, for one thing.
pretty, for another.
off-the-wall and utterly zany, which i always am,
but in a different way
with you.
light-headed
light-hearted
light-everything -
funny and sweet and teasing and teased.
there are more things,
things i do not know the names for,
and which anyway i'm not sure i could say in a poem,
or anywhere else.
you,
my best friend,
who sat patiently through all the ******** and the **********
the not-worth-my-times and the he's-not-as-interested-in-you-as-you-think,
who listened to me rant like it's my job,
cry like it's my hobby,
and laugh like i'm on narcotics,
you,
are the best
thing
ever.
so one last thing:
i want you to know
(i'm telling you right now)
if you ask me
(and i know
you'll ask me)
don't you dare be scared out of your mind,
like i would be,
and don't you dare pretend not to be,
like you would,
because
i'm going
to say
yes.
Apr 21, 2012
Apr 21, 2012 at 1:15 PM UTC
Jamming jellyfish
Top-Me
((Giddy App Seahorse))
The horseradish on
my lap______
The jolly Jelly
Gefilte Fish
Little help from my friends
How we click the laptop
One dent to Deceive me
The Rock and Rolling
Stomach his smoke went
Like *** Cheese)
he leaves me
The spicy tongue map
Z-Top Zany Chilli Pepper____
your # tap dance tap
Italian top of
the cheese designer skirt
The outskirts of Naples
Her sweet dimples, please
The Islands of Sicily
So many Cheese forms
Terms of Endearment
Mama Mia Murano-Positano
Her lips of Romano Cheese
(To Top Me) Challenge me
Cheese doesn't mix
with cappuccino,
she's the Capri
Ala Denti
Cheese Wiz chair
Mediterranean Wines
Bear men doing low
sips of time
the grisly(Z) pour
The car smelled like
Flight (Top Me) Swiss air
Meet Dominique
How it went La Cirque
Anti Christ Devil Red-bed
cheese mystique
SOS to their notes
PS the junk car in
Midas the makeover
Make-up artist counter
Clinique
I could paint over your hood
Creamy mind put at ease
He's so displeased
New castle disease
Mingling social disease
She's so infectious
ZZ- Top me rock me
Eyes bloodshot you got me
And nevertheless
With twelve and V
V- Vamps tramps
and 14 karats
The French Lieutenant
Mistress Brie with heavy
bite teeth like garnets
Cher turning back time
The burlesque striptease
Come back little Sheba
Z Top Queen of Sheba
I know it's coming soon____?
All Tight claustrophobic
The tight squeeze
Him speaking
Mandarin Oranges
The British Colony
Unique Chinese languages
Her hills, San Francisco
Jack Nicholson
Comedy of China town
The American Women
Smile cheese at the Disco
The food Cantonese
style
Z muscles Hercules
Joan Rivers
Fashion Police
The Cheese of Portuguese
Its the meat market
With his nifty thrifty Neice
All Socrates
(Gromet and Cheese)
Those Brooklyn
workers
The Falcon Matese____*
More cheese Z-Top
Who could ever top
The string cheese
Silken strings became
to rest, I rest my cheese
What cheese fascinates you
Tell me?
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 9:12 AM UTC
Plunk your Magic Twanger
years ago when I was a tike
back when I could barely even ride my bike
there was this silly show I loved and had to see
on Saturday mornings just for kids
they showed short films and had funny skits
so weird it seemed they were just talking to me
films about this kid they called the Jungle Boy
he rode on an elephant and brought me great joy
always tracking down men doing evil things
then there was always this special guest
a doctor, a scientist, someone who impressed
who would try to demo and explain
their special skills but is was to no avail
along came the gremlin with water spritzer and pail
and on the poor speaker he would make it rain
he was called Froggy the Gremlin a puppet at best
he'd dance like a clown and stick out his chest
and he was always introduced with this silly chant
plunk your magic twanger froggy, oh my dear
and boing in a puff of smoke he would appear
and bedlam would ensue he'd go off in a rant
Hiya kids, Hiya, he'd always say as he danced
on the edge of my seat, I was so entranced
what kind of stunt would he now try to pull
squirt the guest with his seltzer bottle he was so bad
the guest would run away, run away so wet and mad
the gremlin always kept his bottle full
zany comedy, mindless laughter every week
couldn't wait to see who would be the next weeks geek
so innocent then so full of vigor and vim
there is another part to this story someday I will tell
later on in high school before the first morning's bell
Froggy is still alive, no cant forget him
Gomer LePoet...
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 7:41 AM UTC
The Batman Movie (a review). The clues part was cool, but the end of it got boring. I liked that Batman kept a journal - I like the idea of men keeping journals, because, do men have many thoughts they share? Men’s thinking seems so ephemeral.
In this Batman resurrection, Pattinson’s Bruce Wayne & Batman are Kurt-Cobain-like emo and that seemed to work. Didn’t you just want to take your hand and get his hair out of his eyes? I think guys should have hair - I like hair on guys, not buzz cuts. I liked the muscle-car Batmobile.
I liked Zoey Kravitz, she was girl power, but not in a hot girl way, she had her own motivations, she wasn’t just in danger and served up to fuel Batman.
The movie is too long though. They need to bring back movie intermissions - I’d vote for that. As usual, I drank my giant slurpee and ate ½ my popcorn before the twenty minutes of previews were finished.
It’s a three hour movie. I had to *** so bad by the time the movie was ¾ over that I was grinding on my popcorn bucket to keep it in. I finally had to make a dash for the bathroom - I was afraid I’d miss the KISS scene. Argh!
Let’s talk about Robert Pattinson, the actor, and his arch from Twilight to Batman. Of course, doesn’t every vampire turn into a bat? (joke) but it’s always Pattinson being moody, being hot, figuring himself out and the introspective man - the broody man.
Are broody men **** I don’t like broody men in real life - I feel that only one of us gets to be moody in a relationship - and it’s going to be me. Pattinson seems almost zany and cheeky in RL so the brood is his method act. I Like that Pattinson didn’t buff-up for the role - I think the buffed-up muscle-man as superhero perfection somehow relates to capitalism. Pattinson’s American accent was good.
What was missing from the movie was horniness. Batman didn’t seem HOT for Cat-girl - he just stood there for her to kiss. What’s boy-girl attraction if it’s not horniness? Where has the horniness gone in movies? Sexiness is missing from ALL the superhero movies - I guess the age demo is too young.
I give it three out of five stars
Apr 28, 2022
Apr 28, 2022 at 7:02 AM UTC
Darkness has pressed up against our lattice windows. Classes start again in the morning. I’m being reabsorbed by college life. I’m a planner. I’ve been going over my syllabuses, repacking my bookbag, charging my power banks, checking and rechecking the assignments due tomorrow. After watching me prep for hours, Peter said, “You’re not going to the MOON.”
Peter asked me last Friday, “Are you excited for Monday? (I’ll find out if I get my fellowship.)
“I’m more excited about tonight,” I said, “I like going out on the town.”
“Wow,” he said, “you’re so different - not like the other girls at all.”
“No!” I said, laughing, “We’re stuck in a rut, we only go to one or two places, ever - if we go out at all. When people come to New Haven, I need places to take them - places besides pizza. At home, in Athens (Ga), I know twenty places - this is RESEARCH.” I assured him.
Peter settled back into his doctorate-fraternity-house yesterday. Tonight (Sunday), there’s music in the suite, the crazy noises of people and the comfort of returned friends. All the roommates are back, greeted with hugs and kisses, as they dragged in their luggage.
Lisa arrived with dinner, for 10, from Dominick's, in Manhattan. Spaghetti, salads, rolls, extra sauce - in six, small, suitcase-sized insulated bags. It was a logistical marvel. It’s only 90 minutes from Manhattan to the residence - we didn’t need to rewarm anything. “I KNOW we could have just eaten in the dining hall,” she said, shrugging, “call it zany - one last hurrah.”
Everyone seemed happy to be back. There were travel stories, questions, and laughter. Oh, and Zeppole, little powdered sugar custard desserts that seemed the worst for travel. Everyone seemed to have an eye on the clock though. By 11pm the suite was quiet. Très unusual.
Mar 27, 2023
Mar 27, 2023 at 1:42 AM UTC
Epilogues of skinheads amuse the ******
Eclipsed by innuendos of hatred
Vigilant they tread in sovereign flocks
By way of death they will strip us naked
In our absence zany remarks surface
Hidden by indefinite philosophies
Foolish they swarm the emerald candles
Worshiping the fathers of hypocrisy
Conquer or perish we must
To survive humanity's wrath
Lend a hand Glasgow would not
Distraught we sought immune paths
Honor us by opulent memories
Waste not our exuberant energy
© 2011 (All rights reserved)
Jan 26, 2012
Jan 26, 2012 at 2:55 AM UTC
I'm not the kind of girl
who writes love poems
and I'm far from romantic
my two moods fall between
depressed and manic
I'm not charismatic
I'm far too sarcastic
and just from one ****
I can snap like elastic.
But no one has ever
been strong enough to
pull apart the barriers
that cover my heart
quite like you do,
and I know you
hate your smile
but my god
I have never seen
a face light up so much
with just the movement
of a muscle.
Tousled hair
of black and blonde
I am so fond of the way
you say my name
like it isn't something to
be ashamed of.
Like somehow,
I'm more than the sum
of my parts.
Like somehow,
I'm not just a canvas
but art.
I'm not the kind of girl
who writes love poems
but there's something about
your eyes of blue
and the way you flew
into my life
like a falling star,
slowly
then crashing
all at once
finding its way into the
dark crevice of my heart
that was nearly torn apart
but you picked up the pieces
and bandaged me together again.
And this might sound zany
but even just one night alone
makes me miss you like crazy
because when I'm with you
my mind goes all hazy
and I'm convinced
in that moment
that everything will be okay
because you are not just
a boy to me
you lessen my depression
you calm my anxiety
I'd throw away my variety
of pills just to be in your
arms forever
Elavil, Cipralex, Zoloft
are just names
and they hold nothing to you
because you are my
perfect dose of serotonin.
You said,
"I like you more than poetry"
but my words are broken vocal chords
that never should be spoken
yet when I'm with you,
the poet is awoken.
Ballads and rhymes
will fill my mind
but no matter how hard I try,
nothing I write
is worthy of you.
The most beautiful
man I know,
the most beautiful
man I ever knew.
And I say,
cut off the strings,
you marionette.
Free yourself from the
binding chains
that control your every move,
fly. Sing me a song,
you gorgeous violin.
Tear away the
thoughts from your mind
that are constantly
telling you that
you are not good enough
because my darling,
you will always be
good enough for me.
You said,
"I like you more than poetry"
and I'm not the kind of girl
who writes love poems
but I will say that poetry
is nothing without the poet.
And my god,
I ******* love the poet.
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 1:16 AM UTC
Awareness, Bashful and Carefree
Depressed and Eager, Freely
Gaining and Hatefully Ignored
Justified and Knotted Love
Mimicking Notorious Outsiders
Patiently Quiet and
Reassuring Silence
Tentatively Unstable
Waiting, Xenophobic
Yearn and Zany
**** you, for leaving me to experience
the range of alphabetical emotions.
Mar 30, 2013
Mar 30, 2013 at 5:52 PM UTC
the years pile up gently
as snow upon snow pile up
on snow laden ground.
you wake up one morning
still with sleepy eyes
to see the view from your window
still the same
yet somewhat changed
from the landscape you saw before you went to bed last night.
you jog your head,
to drive away
the lingering laziness in your bones,
smiling at a half remembered dream
where you were flying through the sky
dodging the telephone and electrical wires
that crisscrossed the path of your flight,
and whispered a silent prayer,
you get up your bed.
reaching out with heavy limbs
to the pair of sandals
lying on the floor
and trudge out of your cozy room.
you look at the mirror
(at a landscape still unfamiliar?)
and frown
(or smile?)
at some added lines
creasing the sides of your eyes:
a view more subtly changed!
a year is gone,
another is on the run.
count your life if you may
in ages
old traditional way
but, mark it off proudly
with words:
painful, prayerful, purposeful,
incisive, iniquitous, imperial,
eclectic, electric, effervescent,
dolorous, delirious, devious,
singular, simple, (sinful?),
frenzied, frivolous, feral,
tepid, tremulous, turbulent,
ludicrous, libidinous, lugubrious,
zany, zennish, zinged,
barbaric, beatific, bucolic,
and so on and so forth.
words that are sensual, soulful, spiritual,
that moved your heart ,
that moved our hearts.
words to remember you by.
be happy.
feel blessed.
it is your birthday!
Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 8:21 AM UTC
Actually Awesome
Beautifully Broken
Courageously creative
Differently Dazzling
Eagerly Edgy
Fascinatingly Fastidious
Gracefully Great
Handsomely Harmonious
Independently Intelligent
Jokingly Joyful
Keenly Kind
Lovingly Lyrical
Marvelously Magnificent
Naturally Narcissistic
Originally Open-minded
Passionately Pleasant
Quintessentially Quirky
Respectfully Rebellious
Sarcastically Smart
Typically Twisted
Unbelievably Unique
Vigorously Viscous
Wonderfully Wild
X-tremely Xenodochial
Young-fully ******
Zealously Zany
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 2:45 PM UTC
I am worth
christian childhoods
I am worth
hesitant hugs
I am worth
doubtful declarations
I am worth
useless ultimatums
I am worth
apathetic altercations
I am worth
queer questionings
I am worth
emotional endings
I am worth
better beginnings
I am worth
fearful friendliness
I am worth
gallant generosity
I am worth
ingenious individuality
I am worth
jaded jealousy
I am worth
kind kleptomania
I am worth
lost love
I am worth
masochistic musings
I am worth
sadistic sadness
I am worth
notorious negativity
I am worth
obvious obsession
I am worth
pathetic pain
I am worth
******** reactions
I am worth
tenacious truths
I am worth
vicious violence
I am worth
wry withering
I am worth
youthful yesterdays
I am worth
zany zoetry
I am worth
more than I
deserve
Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 8:37 AM UTC
warning: freedom really exists
and it's among us.
highway to nowhere,
the pleasing
hot
breeze
in my head again.
my life starts now.
light up a cigar
with mourning fire.
blood boiling in
anxiety.
morning fire.
up in the sky,
angels dance in
foreing torsions.
(lust is the engine
of the world)
scattered distorsions.
ethic-moral-rationality.
eyes leaking out of
the sliced throat.
an ancient greek comedy.
bones cracking in
panic gestures.
no disaster.
(end of second act)
knife rises to
set-free the
newborn.
no pain.
heart opened up
in two,
and in the middle,
love.
brains bursting in
bold erections.
heaven (there)
hell (heathen, among us)
big purple clouds,
night-resurrection.
confessions bring
confusion.
the desert...oh! the desert.
my lungs are filled with dust.
san pedro's highway.
are you going someway?
highway to nowhere.
devotion to pleasure,
brings obscure light.
faith has no measure.
are you going near?
boiling liquid flowing free
down there.
down the coaly shore,
where moon's waiting
for me.
(darkness always brings
light).
calm, loneliness whispering,
in sharp noises.
water is near.
calm,the hatred king
burdens his death.
zany fools driking,
celebrating.
(end of third act)
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 1:11 AM UTC
my friends call me funny
my true friends call me ******** and stupid
intelligent
charismatic
unbiased
energetic
I will be everything but perfect and still working on accepting that
this poem is about me with words it is shown
please take a moment and put away your phones
this poems about i and i alone
compassionate
zany
persevering
idiosyncratic
narwhal loving kind of person
I will always be me and nothing more
i'm a lot of things like i've said just before
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 10:28 PM UTC
Zany you an call me.
And I'll be find with that.
But a buffon I refuse to be.
Because that word seems to be worse.
A clown you can refer to me.
But only if you saying it in a good way.
For, who really wants to be a fool?
Who really?
Who really do?
You can call me zippy.
That just the qualities within me.
A fast individual with speed.
Who doesn't have the power to stop a sneeze?
Maybe I'm in a different zone.
It might be torrid or frigid.
But is a lot warmer when you come home.
Call me zany or zippy I don't care.
Because I don't care.
I totally lost in our love zone.
Whenever you are near.
Feb 23, 2011
Feb 23, 2011 at 8:28 AM UTC
Love is a four letter word
ache
bond
cage
dove
evil
felt
gasp
hope
irks
join
kiss
LOVE
mess
numb
oath
pain
quit
rose
sour
tear
used
viva
warm
xyst
yeah
zany
Gomer LePoet....
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 1:36 PM UTC
The ghost from my lungs on the first cold step, the vapor that spirals out of my blood to dance as crystals on the cape of the dawn.
Her arms around my shoulders, pressing the blades, lamenting climbing in together when I would be the only one getting out.
Stepping in and dropping my bags in all directions, having none of them come running to investigate the invader of days.
Chill rolling on the inside of my skin and across the palms of my hands, only combated by the brush of your kiss.
A mistress of mistrust who sets lasers to **** just let you waltz in, even curling up behind your knees like you’ve been here forever.
Sweeping of lips on the line of my shoulder, a sweet settling of nerves so I won’t miss you too much on the far side of the bed.
When she lays on my bed with a gap in between, leaving just enough room from elbow to elbow for our souls to slide in and conspire.
The probing of the snowy wet nose of the gummy-eyed dog, bald but for patches of scratches and running zany with zest.
Swelling that builds up in my spine as you leave, filling and growing like insulating foam, an expanding despair.
Bristled fur and the slink in her walk when she’s asking for favors, a coyote stalking voles in the stems of dry grass.
Standing again as a phantom on the path, reading again the first tentative steps, still yet to find a single thing to regret.
The way the words just come pouring out like well water when she asks, running out the mud until it flows clear.
When the sun shivers and floats and then settles like dust on your eyelashes as you sleep.
Oct 20, 2012
Oct 20, 2012 at 11:17 PM UTC