Funny Alphabet Poem"A" is for AppleFunny Alphabet Poem8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Which is a fruit that keeps doctors away
Especially if you throw it at their heads.
"B" is for Boat
Unless it's the Titanic.
"C" is for Cow.
They go moo...and fart a lot.
"D" is for Dinosaur.
Which now works in Hollywood
Thanks to Steven Spielberg
"E" is for Egg.
Which tastes like chicken...
...Or do chickens taste like eggs.
"F" is for a word that that rhymes with "Duck".
Though I was gonna say something else, didn't ya?!
"G" is for Gorilla.
One can type a better poem than this.
"H" is for Hawaii.
It's an island and a state
And a place that middle-aged woman fantasize about being
On with some buff guy instead of their
Beer-gut husband...but that's another story.
"I" is for Igloo
Which can't be built on the sun.
I know...I tried.
"J" is for Joke.
That's what this poem is.
A sad...sad joke.
"K" is for "Kite."
A piece of paper that flies on string.
"L" is for Lizard.
ONE'S ON YOUR SHOULDER RIGHT NOW!
85Five children, seventeen grandchildren. Still alone.853 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Time too ShortOur world today had been changedTime too Short2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
From one of safety, to another deranged
We gasp and cry at the news we hear
Hoping it is a dream
But what matters more
Is the parents who think
of these words so cold
Those little children
they are little fighters
Right to the end.
Gone from our lives
But not from our hearts
We'll keep them there always
Like we have from the start.
No parent should ever
Outlive their child
But now we must see
the lesson on trial
Pray for these families scorned by hate
and let us hold close
Our family blessed and safe.
Zodiac Series-PiscesPisces February 19 - March 20Zodiac Series-Pisces7 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
Pisces Strength Keywords:
Pisces Weakness Keywords:
Pisces and Independence:
When they are independent and inspired by life's events, their creativity comes shining through but they are unable to be on their own for long before they start dreaming in their imaginary world of happy people and happy endings. They need other people to keep them grounded and on the right track.
Pisces and Friendship:
Pisces will go out of their way to help a friend. They are extremely sensitive and loyal. They will take a friend's problem and make it their own and suffer with them. They need a strong positive friend to make them strong. Pisces like adventure, new situation and social events. A Pisces friend will always have something exciting in mind and it is a very fulfilling, long lasting friendship.
Pisces and Business:
UnrequitedI used to love you and maybe somewhere I still do?Unrequited10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
its funny though cos you never even knew
There was times I shed some tears
and at other I cried with laughter
and it was all over you
Tonight when I go to bed
I'll probably think of you
and it won't be with happiness or any kind of feeling
the thought of you leaves me cold and vacant
and funniest of all, its actually sort of nice.
Drowning The Caged DoveYou used to be alive to me. Once upon a time your skin was warm and touchable. When I held you I used to be able to feel your heart beating in your chest. Now if I dare to touch your rigid body there is nothing but stony skin to brush against mine. I gave up on you.Drowning The Caged Dove3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Recollections of when we first met eat at the corners of my mind. You were as nervous as a caged dove, ashamed to fly, ashamed to sing to me, to kiss me. The last time I kissed your lips they were cold and nearly lifeless. No, not nearly, I know that now. They were lifeless. There was nothing of you left. I ran to you too late. I couldn't save you.
Your eyes are blank and staring. Not dreaming, not aspiring, not wanting, not giving. Just gone. Just nothing. Gazing forever at the black ground above you, the black ground weighing down on you. Six feet of lies and betrayal.
The Mad Hatter's SerenadeThe Mad Hatter's Serenade9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
and then the hatter said, to the tree
'life is the colour you want to see.
black or white or blue or red.'
and then he stood upon his head.
'The world makes more sense upside down,
so now, when I'm happy, I usually frown.'
'I wear many hats, none of them are mine.
I keep them to sell, so please get in line.
Buy them for cheap, and take this mask for free!
Use it to hide the faces you don't want anyone to see.
'tis a neverending tea party, this life, my friend!
time is frozen still, and this will not end.
not joy, nor sorrow, nor love, nor hate
the most you can hope for, is to get a clean plate.'
I watch the hatter (mad), and then I smile
not so much in years, yet quite clearly senile
I shed a tear for his sake, and then I look away
I do not need to hear what he has to say.
and the hatter said to the tree,
'they never really listen to me.
but if they stopped to look they'd find
i'm not completely out of my mind.'
the hatter (mad), he says to me
'we are both the same.'
tiny little pawns,
StorytimeStorytime12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Scalding bathes for Lolita
shake her body up.
And arsenic drinks,
the coroner thinks,
were responsible for the scars.
Now little mother spanish
and stoic papa cry.
Mourning and lamenting,
sister Nola dies -
of suicide, they say.
Two children in a day.
Another wake, funeral cake,
now everyone\'s asking why.
A week goes by
and Lorelai, their sitter in arrears,
\"When those children called
I wished that they would die!
So I bathed the youngest quiet,
after tepid poisoned tea,
and strung her sister,
up on the willow tree.\"
WiltedWilted6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
I am walking down the sidewalk. Everything is graythe sky, the ground, the dismal raindrops in between. I bend my head and forge onward, eager to be somewhere, anywhere but here.
A flash of color catches my eye, a folded little swash of red. Not gray. I stop and look.
Its a flower, folded, crumpled down, stamped out by Italian leather shoes and mud-splattered hooves and bicycle wheels. Petals crushed, seeping out, bleeding. The rose is blackened, dirty and torn. Its lying at my feet.
I never knew roses could bleed. Are the petals naturally red, or is that just the tinge of warm blood, a blush of modesty, that gives them that scarlet shade? Did someone cut the rose off her branch and leave her lying there, alone, bruised, trampled on the sidewalk?
Who would want to live in a world where even roses are murdered?
There is rain. Children splash in puddles, kicking up their rubber heels. The drops slide down, sliding into the roses broken form. Is it too much
bipolarmy emotions are likebipolar6 years ago in Other More Like This
spilled paint, flooding
the streets with an array
of manic colors. the fumes
rise into the air like the
angel-sweet smoke from
a stick of incense, and my
peers are getting high off
my mania laced with misery.
[they'll never forget me after
i'm gone, my epitaph
depicting my fame].
i'm staring at the city
skyline from the edge of
a cliff, questioning my
existence yet falling in love
with the incandescent lights
under the midnight sky,
reflecting in my midnight eyes.
i try to refrain from leaping
off, slowly letting go of my
education, my enemies, the
memories that haunt my
head like wailing poltergeists.
[i spread my arms, wondering
if i'll fly, but the stars hold me
they're all watching my
neurosis, laughing at my
journeys back and forth
between grandiloquence and
melancholia. i'm a pawn in
this game of psychotropic drugs
and therapists with plastered-on
smiles, a game i'll be playing
until the end of my days.
i shut my eyes to the remarks,
the expectations o
Why we love the Internet.Being lonelyWhy we love the Internet.2 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
A curdled LifeA curdled Life9 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Milked, poured, boiled, soured, curdled, salted, molded, pressed, bandaged, ripened, sliced and matured. We lay. Bound together by Kirkland Signatureâ-labeled-plastic wrap from head to toe. Surrounded by similar look-alikes, side by side, perching our bottoms on the firm steel racks that COSTCO employees slipped us on.
And that is the only life we've ever known. The life of supposedly inanimate food. The life of Cheese. Milked, cooked and prepared for our final destiny – filling the stomach of a human being. For us that is happiness.
I am cheese. I am cheese. Muenster Cheese to be exact. Muenster Cheese with corduroy-orange edges and yellowish-off-white centers. I was once part of a cow who mooed. But then I was squirted out, liquefied, boiled, and solidified. I wish I could still moo. But all I know is the typical life of unsold, packaged cheese. And that means smelly.
However, unlike all the other packages of swiss/spongy/chubby/Monterey jack/cheddar/mozzarella cheese,
Three Drunk TeenagersBitter liquid on cynical lips,Three Drunk Teenagers4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Uphill, blue bottles, and
Twenty pound notes...
Spinning around and around,
Don't look behind, it's too confusing,
Don't walk into the road and no,
That car wasn't as close as you thought it was.
I'm going to die,
And I'll rot as you watch me on camera,
Sliding down the egg swirl and
Stroking furry cat bellies
In the dark.
Lying on the grass and watching the clouds go by whilst
Ignoring the concerned stares of onlookers,
Just music and you, me and her...
Bathed in bitter fizzing gold.
PathDo you see the path ahead?Path4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Lit with lights so many so bright?
Will you follow them tonight?
Or will you stray instead?
You let shadow consume
But is it worth the cost of rebirth
to stay dark with this earth?
No, let your life resume
There's a plan for you
There's always more and you know you adore
The time given you for
Making something new
Keep yourself on track
Follow the course, feeling God's force
Push you on with no remorse
And never ever look back
Little Birds in Rigid FlocksBig bright smiles becauseLittle Birds in Rigid Flocks4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I don't care.
Whisper behind my back
Because I don't care.
And I'll laugh with you
Because, you see, I'm rather funny,
Well, I think I am
And that's all that matters.
I'm sick of being upset,
Just because of what the people say,
What the whisperers whisper.
I'm sick of pretending
That I'm someone I'm not.
So I'm trying to care a little less,
No longer will I let my tears tattoo your
Harsh words to my
It doesn't matter, not anymore.
Now I'm free, and you're not.
Who's laughing now, little birds?
Little birds, all trapped in your rigid flocks?
The answer is me, now I'm the eagle.
Now I'm laughing.
summaryyou greeted me smiling.summary4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
it felt like thunder
i know you to be as gentle
as you are rough.
i need someone
who knows how to touch
so i can learn how to feel.
your name means strong.
you are shoulders
and a smile,
with snaking veins.
today, our palms are like
and you are polite
until your lips
you are a new man.
pierced in vain
i am your child.
i am the sweetest moon
under the breath of bedsheets,
our hands swimming
Bought or SoldSome nights were spent aloneBought or Sold4 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Or at least it felt
From the choices I made on my own
Left a nasty welt
Some nights were left in the dark
Or so I thought
In a barren room cold and stark
Of the things that I bought
But some nights alone
Are from not being at home
In my household
My home isn't here
And while I linger in fear
Sin has a chokehold
Some nights I've trembled in fear
What could happen to me?
Left to wonder when I leave Earth's pier
Will I capsize in the sea?
Some nights I wonder where are my friends?
Do they even hold a place?
Or did they give it all up for the trends
And drop out of the race
But some nights alone
Are from not being at home
In my household
My home isn't here
And while I linger in fear
Sin has a chokehold
And I believe when we die
We won't rot where we lie
Where it's so cold
Is my faith strong enough
To pull me out of the rough
So I won't be sold
Some nights I turn the other cheek
To my dead buyers
But other times I throw them into the creak
Douse all their fires
No Poetry IINo poetry was written,No Poetry II5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
No fairytales were told.
By a girl turned into woman,
by a woman who grew old.
All the fantasies of childhood,
Drowned inside her heart.
Consumed by sense and reason,
A poem torn apart.
She married someone clever,
And watched her children grow.
And never thought of playgrounds,
And dreams of long ago.
And as she raised her daughter,
To avoid tragedy,
She told the girls no tales,
And read no poetry.
She brought up a young woman,
To be sensible and sane.
The child would know no dreaming,
So she would know no pain.
She never thought of castles,
For she was no princess.
Her life full of achievements,
Never knew happiness.
All poetry forgotten,
All fairytales were lost.
But she made lots of money,
So never mind the cost.
RapunzelThe floor is covered with ribbons of broken hair snapped, dry, dirty hair. She watches it break and die every day; even when it groans from her scalp, she no longer cries for it. It's only hair.Rapunzel5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
She sits in the corner, with another of her headaches, closing her unwashed eyes and praying for sleep.
When a man's voice calls to her from outside, she jumps.
No one speaks to her.
She is one hundred feet from the ground and no one can see her face.
Heart quickening - a newborn sparrow that must learn to fly or else succumb to a hungry mouth - she struggles with her locked bones to stand and run to the window. She only moves slowly, however desperate she is, her wasted muscles threatening to fold. Her fragile fingers with their grey, unfiled nails fight with the stone sill to gain purchase and she sways, a stricken willow planted in her own filth.
"Let down your hair," he says.
Why won't he leave her alone? Why won't he go from here?! But still she mechanically heaves her co
Meet Me in The Copper FieldsSo meet me in the Copper Fields, my love,Meet Me in The Copper Fields3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Where words wither in the wind and all
You can feel is my hand in yours,
Cry your tears into the sea and
Dance with me in the Copper Fields....
YellowMy parents bought a little two-bedroom house when they first got married. It was run down, falling apart, but most importantly: cheap.Yellow4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Two years later, my mother fell pregnant with me. She immediately abandoned her job for some plaster and paint and set about decorating the untouched spare room. She splashed pastel yellow across the walls, replaced the dingy carpet and kitted out the room with furniture.
Sixteen years after my birth, and the yellow paint is flaking off the walls revealing the kiwi green beneath. I can peel back the corners of the carpet to reveal the worn underlay and half rotten floorboards. I can examine the fringe of my cream curtains where the bright yellow hasn't been bleached by the sun. The room is, more or less, unchanged. It has merely lost its sheen, much like the inhabitant of it.
I remained an only child; filling my days with quiet solitary games and elaborate stories whispered under my breath. My isolation only increased as I grew too big for the room that