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Jude kyrie Jan 2017
Infidelity Is Fatal
A short story
With a twist
By
Jude Kyrie

Henry knew she was cheating on him.
No specific proof but he got that bitter feeling in his gut,
you know the kind that's always right.
Little things bothered him.
Like Meg not getting home until 6:45 when she finished work at 5 pm.
What was happening with the missing hour
that she should have been home.
Probably ******* some lover somewhere.
She always said oh I called in at the Mall
or ran into Betty her best friend
and stopped at Louie's Bar
for a glass of chablis.

The other thing was the phone calls.
She would put the phone down as soon as he came in the room.
Redial gave no answer at all but that was just a signal
he had read about lovers morse code
Let it ring three times to answer
or wait for the second and third call.
Yes for sure she was ******* someone.

No wonder Meg was stunning at thirty-five
her figure was great she spoke softly and was kind.
The first to offer her help to any worthy cause.
Decorated the church at Christmas and Easter.
She was a beautiful woman.
And some ***** was trying to take her away from him.

The final straw was the trip to LA she said she had to go there
for a meeting but LA was not in her territory.
Henry forbade her to go
but she got angry for the first time in twelve years of marriage
and told him to mind his own ******* business.
Jesus, she never swore.
For sure her lover would be with her
making a patsy of Henry with
Meg moaning ******* in the hotel bed

Then the doozy
he found the gold cufflinks with a small diamond in.|
He knew they were not for him
he never wore cufflinks in his life except on his wedding day.
He did not even own a shirt with a folded french cuff.
Yep, it was a gift for lover boy.

The phone rang it was seven o'clock it was Meg.
Hi Honey, I am going to be really late
I was at the mall and met the Bryants
we are going for a drink want to join us.

He had herNo I am meeting up with David
Evans for a poker game I will be late too he lied.
He knew for certain she was with lover boy at some ****** hotel
He probably had her down to her Bra and ******* right now.
The rage screamed in henry's chest.

The phone rang again
It was actually David Evans his best buddy.
He told him the full story about Meg
and her lover leaving out no detail
David felt he was losing it
Look, Henry.
Megs loves you she's as straight as an arrow,
You are just worrying about nothing.
Meg would never ever cheat on you buddy.
Then he told him about the cuff links
They were hidden in her ***** draw.
He had found them in his search for evidence.
He said silly they are probably a Christmas present for you.
No way, said Henry.
No way. I don't use Cufflinks.

David was worried Henry sounded like he had lost the plot
Look, Henry, I am coming over let's set up a game of pool
Get your good scotch out Buddy.

Henry put the receiver in its cradle|>
Then he went to the desk in his Den
in the locked drawer he pulled out a smith and wesson.45
And slid in in his belt.
It took him three hotels to find her
Her BMW that he bought her
was parked in the back of the carpark
Meg was in it as was a man was in the passenger seat.
He crept closer it Sam Bryant
Megs best friends husband

He was a homely fat **** with a big gut.
What the **** could she see in that loser?

He must have a **** like a ******* horse thought Henry.
But he tapped on the window with his gun
Meg saw him a shocked look on her face Henry what are you doing?.
Don't pretend you don't know you cheating ***** he yelled.
Put the gun down Henry for god's sake.
They ran away to the hotel bar and henry followed them in
He caught up to them and pulled his gun out pointing it a Sam's head
What the **** do you cheat on me with this fat ***** for?
I had a dog that was not as ugly as him
and I shaved its ***
and made it walk backward cried, Henry.
What do you mean said, Meg?
You think Sam and Me are having an affair, Henry?
She almost laughed.
But she was cool really cool.
It"s obvious, the ******* cufflinks.|
They are for you at Christmas.
you been in my drawers again Henry?

Well, Sam, you get ready to pay for your sins he said.
he lifted the gun into sam's face.
A woman screamed from the door
Henry, please don't hurt my husband, we got kids.
It was Betty sams wife.

I told you we were going for drinks henry said Meg
Put the gun down.
I even asked you to join us remember?

The door opened again two policemen with revolvers drawn
pointing at henry one shouted drop the weapon NOW!
Henry turned to face them
his gun pointed in their direction.
Then six shots from the police revolvers
blasted Henry into eternity.
He lay dead upon the floor.
mEg knelt by his body weeping.

The funeral went by quietly
only a few people attended.
Henry was regarded a bad news in this town.

It turned out the gun in Henry's hand
could not have fired anyway.
The firing pin was removed

A month later

The gossip column in the local rag had a story

Meg Williams and David Evans
Are pleased to announce their marriage
At the St Jude’s Church of Salvation.
Ms.Williams is an investment adviser
and widow of Henry Williams.
The wedding is on Saturday the 9th of February
The couple will be honeymooning in LA
Where the bride said they shared
their first romantic moments together


The only hole in Meg's story was fixed later.
She placed the shirt with french cuffs in her closet.
Wrapped in pretty Christmas paper with a note.
To Henry with all my love.
Meg

It was not needed
But God knows who Henry had blabbed
the cuff links story too.
Better to be safe than sorry
Smiled Meg
As she dropped the firing pin
of a Smith and Wesson .45 revolver
Into the drain twenty miles from her home.

The End
Just because you are not paranoid
does not mean there's no one
out there that wants to stick a knife in your back
Jude
A Dash of Red Jan 2016
Everyone wants to be a superhero.
Or a supervillain, in some cases.
Everyone wants to be special,
To defy the norm,
To be loved,
Praised,
Worshipped.

I’m one of the lucky few who got what they wanted.
But here’s the thing about wishes;
There’s always a twist.
A glitch in the code,
A setback,
A call to reality,
To make us pay for our selfish wants.

What’s my power, you ask?
It’s certainly a good one.
And my curse?
It’s a doozy, I’ll tell you that.

I can’t fly,
I can’t communicate with animals,
Can’t breathe under water,
Don’t have super strength,
And I can’t see through steel.

I have the best power of them all.
I can become Invisible

I can easily slip away from anything without being noticed,
I can watch the world unfurl, completely unaffected.

Thing is, I can’t become visible when I want to.
My power chooses its own schedule.

Meaning…
I’m completely alone, 80% of the time.
I can’t make friends,
Because they can’t see me.
I can’t have conversations,
Because no one wants to talk with a ghost.
I get left behind,
Because no one knew I was there in the first place.

I must be strong.
I have to be.
Because no one will be there for me.
No one wants to care.
No one can.

I talk to myself,
Or watch the world like a show,
Craving to be a part of it.
I know it’ll never happen,
But it’s always fun to dream.

Of being loved,
Wanted,
Noticed,
Acknowledged.
Heck, I’d even settle for being hated,
If it only meant that I would get to know what it feels like,
To be looked in the eye.

Have you ever felt the feeling,
Of being looked through?
Like a window,
Or a spirit?

It starts to get to you, ya know?
You start to think about it,
Start to stop seeing yourself as well.
Suddenly, you don’t even exist.
Not to anyone,
Not even yourself.




Oh, yes.
I am so,
Very,
*Special
Sincerely,
No One.
Day Dec 2011
some greedy little bitter man has put together a picture-perfect person and out of pure laziness and malignant attempts at control he pays off a psychopath to make it happen but we’re just a little body, flesh and bones come between them and their paychecks so why not make it easier? they made a factory out of our garden and nothing grows in factories it’s manufactured, easy as one two three four five six, we’re all sitting on an assembly line waiting for some alcoholic man to shout at some pimply-faced twenty-something “FASTER! FASTER!” so it begins! press of a button, we’re created, step one: your parents were given the baby books, kids! infants, they’re all the same anyways. they’re not individuals yet, they haven’t been encoded so relax, parents. want them turn out like you? sure, do what your parents did, worked out well, eh? been occupying this factory your whole life, then? well anyways, step two: they spend less time with you because you’ve been in this world for three years so it’s time you get out on your own…. step three: they gotta YELL and scream and children aren’t supposed to touch things or say things or scrape their knees because that’s more work for the adults, and they work all day, just like they were programmed for, good little machines 'cause they forgot what it’s like to be a baby or an animal or a plant or a God but also the resentment, a child wants to live but how ridiculous? there’s no life in industry… all about the money baby step four: you buy your education because it builds your character because money says power but when did meaningless power equal respect? I don't know but they force you into reading the same old instruction pamphlets left in the break room at the plant for the past century or so and five: your turn to work for fourty years in this polluted place because it’s hard to break free from twenty-three years of moulding into a cookie cutter you never did fit, that’s why it hurts so much when they try to push you through, your muffin-top is sliced right off and you’re contorted to fit the view of perfect sugary sweetness but just to make sure you're ready they coat you with vanilla icing to cover up your imperfections, perfect, now step six, and this one is the doozy, and because you’re **** broke: go back to mom and dad’s and grab those baby books and again and again and again the cycle repeats and repeats and repeats….
this is a rant if I ever did see one! not an easy read I'm sure so congrats if you got through this mess. complete stream of consciousness, this is raw and angry and though I love my home, my life and everyone in it, sometimes it's easier to write about the negative things. hey, if it makes you lighter! thanks for reading. :)
Kyle Ray Smith Oct 2016
It was all a blur...the day I met you
A headache of which 200 MG of Ibuprofen would not satisfy
You might as well have cut my forehead open and questioned if its contents were love or lust
I didn’t know
I had a headache

Oh it was a doozy
Whew Whew Whew
Thoughts whizzed around my head in zip a dee doo das
Fugazi's of  Love or Lust
I don’t know
I have a headache
lonnieray Feb 2017
The people to the left of me want to get married, but not to each other. Mawwiage is a funny word. Gopher? Potato. Crawdad. Wobble. Jiggly bits. Harmonica. Put your arm on it, cousin. Guzzle. Doozy. An ornery snool. Troglodyte. Haysoos was a troglodyte, that's one of the most hilarious sentences I can think of. Dudebro and ******* are nice. Dankrupt. Barbie. The urban dictionary gave an example sentence using Barbie: if Barbie is so popular why do you have to buy her friends? Perhaps if I memorize that line and say it, I'll get a half second of laughing, showing I have the value to entertain others for about two seconds. That'd be a nice feeling. I'd feel peach-fuzzy. A woman is standing with a rainbow of candy in a ziplock bag. I can't make this stuff up. Life is so incredibly fascinating. Just kidding. But really, that's some bright stuff on display in her transparent bag.
Midway- Surprise! We saw them
Coming from a mile away.
Japanese aircrafts and ships try and attack,
And they get their butts whooped!
And then we got the idea to island hop!

Hop to Iwo Jima- Slowly.... Slowly.... Don't scare it,
It's like a nest of bees!
And we got it! Two air bases captured
And one step closer to the mainland!
Japan may be fortified, but we
Have tons of muscle!

Hop to Okinawa- this one was a doozy...
The biggest amphibious battle of WWII,
And contained the most casualties! Pretty harsh.
Maybe you they shouldn't have attacked us in the firs place!
We only meant to invade and use the island as a
Springboard towards the mainland, but the
Battle took too long.
Just weeks after the fighting ended, Japan surrendered
And we bombed Hiroshima and Nagasaki!
We never got to invade...
I had a bit of fun with this one. The entire poem is read in either a kids voice or a sassy, streriotypical teenagers' voice.
Nat Lipstadt Oct 2013
Once upon a time
in the Great Hall
of the Metropolitan Museum,
my woman wan~pale,
doozy, woozy, about to grace
the floor marble, with an
undesirably inelegant fall.

Steadied her, a quick diagnose,
Low Blood Sugar + Dehydration,
her condition I pronounced.
The antidote in my possession!

From my pocket left,
withdrew my emergency tangerine.

She looked, quizzically, upon me,
even a bit weirdly,
marveling and marvelous,
as I fed her bite-sized orange curvatures.

Who walks around with a
tangerine in their coat pocket?


I replied, doesn't everyone?

besides, that juicy tangerine looked
mighty good, so I took from
pocket right, another one,
laughingly, which we shared.

Henceforth she has called me,
a partial mocking homage to a former actor,
who should have stayed that way,
the one who was thinking you can always start over,
The Anticipator.

If you ask me what is the secret
to keeping love alive, my answer permanent.

Get thee a coat of many pockets,
like the one Joseph had,
fill them up with with the things
that will shelter her from the storm...^

No longer the season of the tangerine,
In my pocket in the fall,
a Fuji apple and a box of
raisin~poems
^ was searching for the end of this line, when I hear bob dylan singing shelter from the storm, so gotta give a partial credit
I’d rented out the basement  of
A house I used to own,
I hated renting places
I preferred to live alone,
I wasn’t good at choosing all
The tenants I would get,
And this guy was a doozy
The most eccentric of them yet.

But I must admit, the money
Paid the mortgage, right on time,
And I looked toward the future
When the house, it would be mine,
So I put up with his foibles
And his funny little ways,
He would sit down in his basement
And would disappear for days.

He had a little doctors bag
He wouldn’t be without,
With signs both astrological
And Druid runes, no doubt,
He always took it with him
When he wandered down the street,
Come skulking back, and talk about
The ******’s that he’d meet.

I knew something was going on,
I heard both screams and moans,
Seep up from out the basement
With the creak of drying bones,
At night they used to wake me up
And I’d lie there in dread,
And wonder what that movement was
Beneath my poster bed.

One night I crept on down and stood
Outside the basement door,
And heard strange voices muttering
Not one, but three or four,
I heard him raise his voice and say
In tones both harsh and grim,
‘I didn’t say you’d have your way,
But you can enter him!’

A peal of ghoulish laughter then
Rang out behind that door,
I bounded up those steps, ran like
I’d never run before,
Then lowered down the steel trapdoor
That sealed off that stair,
And laid the carpet over it,
You’d not know it was there.

I put up with a week of thumps
And cries of ‘let me out!’
But put my face close to the floor
And whispered, ‘Hey, don’t shout!
You keep those demons that you raised
Locked in your doctor’s bag,
Or maybe they will enter you,
And then, if so, that’s sad!’

I waited for those sounds to die
For upwards of a year,
Then poured a ton of concrete in
To seal that basement stair,
The house has sold, a Mr. Bould
Paid not enough, no doubt,
But said, ‘there’s not a basement there,
I’ll have to dig one out!’

David Lewis Paget
Boy Gaskell Feb 2014
My summer sweats bloom from a grass rag,
Scratch another hardly blasting out a calibrate,
Can I break, strap out hacker doozy bluemoors,
Caught from an out sound, an out frowned
Blackening the coffin sweet cough lubricate,
Shackle high tops on pipe dream loft shakers,
Clover feelers, four hitter on lucky seven collar,
Depth sin protector, **** I ain't wrath looter,
Nor do poppa sizes on some puke lips locker,
Key switch for gates hellish donor, back loner,
Course you see, I seek seep suckled *****,
Not some subtle soul (gap in skirt) poker,
Forever reaching lines, bust knuckle lifters,
Cracked rage like Nile is flooding wealths curlers,
Jewel duplicate for ruby cuts on roofless lust,
Symbolise another and I'll grabble force an honour,
Sober up soppy crotch rummage coper,
Scan cell prison ament Scholar's "repent!"
Mace battle X axel swop blunt round passel,
Cost more on pepper rubber rock relation,
Patient prep operation, cramp dilation,
Dial engage **** sudden blocked injection.
Cast nocturnals ominous above monuments,
Men fall like weak's race for joy's division,
Attend pro's vision, pure as skies probations,
Pack pampers protection tracks premonition,
Flat lines before lap times, clenching half rhymes,
Hop hotter than blues croft in dusks knots,
Bars from when I wanted to take on rapping.
betterdays Nov 2014
i walk...
out into the sun,
through the creaking gate,
down accross the strip
of brown driedup grass,
over the already warm,
under my feet, tarmac
to the roads crumbling edge,
all the while, the kookaburras are laughing
with glee and the rainbow
lorikeets, are gossiping about me....
i walk down the cliff side steps, seventy three and
then one last, doozy jump,
onto the squeaking sand.
stop a moment now, to
shed my shoes and shirt,
down to the tideline...
now, i am leaving land,
for wave and froth and
beating water, keep striding
through, to the deeper salt
and then, suspended,
in the ocean.....
feeling free...
as i give myself to it and it gives to me....

          **back to the mother,
      my souls own, delight,          
   saltwater  washing
                           heals all.
NuurSeraph May 2015
Just another soft spot to bump a thump for a thud that this time finally, proudly could be the long awaited announcement I'd been searching for.  

A deep and heavy voice boomed in reply, "I am Hollow, how's all abouts the Do for you today my dear?"
I was slightly taken aback by the fine display of manners.
"Oh,me oh my! So deeply obliged, you took a stop with a thought to ask so when I say, don't act surprised."

Since I surely had indeed been the party calling person, I'd better fancy making proper telling of my Name. But before I did me muster up some suiting gumption for a gab , I heard the haunting husk of a raspy kind of gasp, it was Hollow keen to ask me, "have You come about the Shaft?"

I excitedly replied,  "I've been busy bumping thumping thuds all across the Land hoping I would hear a hollow kind of thud coming from the Desert Sands."
But, oh my goodness if I truly thumped my thud in the mud, I wondered must I then descend down that deeply dark and doozy kind of danger way below?

Then it appeared out of nowhere!! I had the Magic Answer in a sing along song with a pocket tight rhythm gots me dancing and a'singing, "There's a piece of a part of the seat of my soul that's awaiting my return at the bottom of this hole. And as I do recall, it was surely you with your haunting Hollow tune and endless droning echo that reverberated my vertebrae so long ago, and so much so that I lost a litte piece of my Soul."

With one final question that I had left to pop, "Is it still with you at the bottom of that drop?? Cause, I've got a grand idea that will bring It to the top. It's a funky fly vibration called Acoustic Levitation!!"

So, I cheered up and down as I swung myself around in a turn to tell to Hollow, "When you kindly wind your voice up the scale from lowest note to high, then my piece of soul will riseth, it will hear my gladdened cry."
It shall float atop the soul note that IS perfectly wrote just for me and my Soul's harmony. It's been such the perfect ending, All's happy and together, at last finally!!!!!!

So never stop bumping for the thump and the thud that is you cause it's really out there somewhere and it's asking, what to do!!!!
Something different:-))
Undertonal references to Osiris Shaft & Priesthood of Anubis
Blossom Feb 2017
Snared upon a rusted hook
A hook that's known as Doubt
Deep in my skin
It stays within
As blood slowly seeps out

Thrashing against it's tangled hold
Is how I used to fight
But now I lay
In disarray
Sinking deeper into my plight

Closing my eyes I hear them well
The words they screeched and sang
Fatty, ******
Liar, Doozy
Deep in my mind these rang

I'm tired of my empty shell
Their opinions are quite right
I'm finally done
My demons won
I'll forever be out of your sight
Peter Hark Jan 2020
Oh wow lookie there!
What a marvelous creature

If you look closely over there you'll be able to see it
a wild hidden disability!

Usually they are invisible to the untrained eye
But I, Stene Irwiv will show you how you can sometimes spot them!

Now all of them look different, but here are a few examples.

See that buddy over there? I've been watching over this lad for a while now
Notice how he walks slowly almost like a waddle?
He also stops to rest more often than the usual guy
He's not lazy! just sore.
Make sure to be careful and don't touch him unexpectedly!
See my friend here has Fibromyalgia, it causes widespread chronic pain.
It can also cause migraines, mood swings, and memory issues
but remember, since these symptoms are usually invisible on the surface
this disability is often overlooked or even called fake by strangers,
but also doctors! ******!

This next one is a doozy
my mate right here looks pretty average on first glance,
but if you look closer you might be able to spot what makes her so special.
This lovely lady right here has Ehlers Danlos Syndrome.
Because of the defect in her collagen,
her skin and ligaments are unusually stretchy.
if you were to touch her skin you might feel that it is very soft and fragile
and when she stands you might see her knees and other joints bend back farther that usual.
She's not just 'double jointed' though,
because of the stretchy ligaments, she and others with EDS are at risk of joint dislocations and chronic pain everyday!
EDS doesn't just cause pain though,
it can also increases a person's risk of ***** rupture or heart problems!
Double ******!

Remember though, these disabilities can't always be seen
so don't judge people prematurely.
You see, the person you think is lazy for sitting in the handicapped seats on the bus,
or maybe the person parked in a handicapped spot who appears to be fine,
or even just the people walking down the street,
any one of them might have an invisible disability.
but just because they are invisible, that doesn't mean they aren't real.
I hope you all enjoyed the show.
I'm Stene Irwiv, and this has been Chronic Illness Hunter.
When I park in a disabled spot or go out in public wearing my braces, I feel like people look at me as if I'm a strange exotic creature. My lovely inspiration for this poem came from when I was watching old Steve Irwin documentaries while I was stuck in bed on a bad flare day.
wordvango Apr 2017
the mezcal incident, now
that was surely one doozy/
started out with a shot of Patrone
no lime or salt at ten in the morn'/
at this strip joint in Wicksburg
where they advertise
two hot babes three skinny one's
and one big mama,
on their marquee, which is one of
those lighted portable signs plastic letters things
the kids like to vandalize by
like on the Natural Light Deliverance Tabernacle
I minister at occasionaly, we have one of those ,
had In God We Trust , lettered on it on saturday.
Sunday, at eleven, when we arrived for worship ,
it said in dogs  we gust,
limited letters to arrange so,
I got the teen hoodlum gyst/
I ramble on so much, wouldn't
blame you
if you lost interest,
but anyways/
this day, what I mentioned early in this,
started out fairly innocent, a drink
a gander at female utilitarianism,
and a shot,
thing about tequila
sitting down you don' t know how ****** up you are
get up, try to stand and wow!
I keep digressing,
that day
hell I ******* forgot/
Sorry to lead you on.
Chaos over sleep.
You supply the torches, I'll supply the mob.
This bed's too big for the one of us.
The maggots already ate through the moose, leaving two yellowed-white anchors made of bone to sink into the floor.
Bologna; The meat that lies straight to your face.
The news is getting olds.
Analyzing bags and trashes. Paralyzing eyelashes snap shut, trapping the fly.
Thus, the death of an ego was born.
Reading is kind of like smoking except you don't burn the paper.
The quickest way to burn a bridge is to kiss it.
Don't be a stranger now. I'm strange enough for the both of us.
The ins and outs of the whens and wheres I do and do not belong.
That bar fight with the bathroom door really did a doozy on my eyebrow.
You know I will hunt whatever, you pra(e)y.
Blessed by lowercase god and misspelled Amerika('Merica).
Same message, different bottle.
My dreams are too loud before I fall asleep.
The first possibility that you jump to write off has the highest probability of containing the things that will set you right off.
My teeth may not have any layers of skin left to ride by.
From poverty to profanity; proverbs to insanity.
A serpent a day keeps the apples away.
Growing weary of the definitive abstracts, I curl up somewhat uncomfortably numb in the cracks of the curbs and sidewalks...
And with that the last thought of the night twisted into the air and joined with the wisps of smoke pouring from the final cigarette. The odyssey in mind sends our hero sailing from the shores of "I know how to do it all" into the vast and turbulent waves of "I do it all."
The bird who clipped its own wings.
The Jack of All Trades, the Queen of No Hearts, the King of Nothing, the Ace of Idle. Faceless cards.
Just a chess piece on a checker board. Maybe there's less to figure out than there is to understand.
Always on the brink of making things right. Don't let it slink away in the middle of the night.
I had an uncomfortably close call with life. What some would call a near-life experience. I swear I was inches away from living...
Insomniac dreams
mg Apr 2014
When I first saw her,
God, I didn’t know what took over me,
She was a picture of pure beauty,
The closest to heaven I felt I’ll ever be,
I got to know her a few days later,
We met in the park, full of valentine haters
She gave me a small smile, mines stretched to a mile,
I offered her dinner; she said that sounds fine,
She’d met me at 7, for a swig of wine,
Of course I already felt woozy, she was intoxication
A bottle full of inebriation,
I felt my knees go weak when I saw her,
A beauty like no other,
I booked the expensive restaurant
Bought the most expensive wine,
Even bought myself a suit,
As though if it were a crime,
To not let someone like her, get the best in the world
And when I met her at 7 sharp,
She seemed to stop time,
She took the air out of me,
****, I could say was hey,
She gave a tinkling laugh and said that her name was May,
I thought, what a fine name, for such a girl,
Her eyes were diamonds, her hair in all curls,
Around her neck was a single pearl,
We had a good night; we drank till we were doozy,
We laughed till we choked
And then devil had to come and stop all the fun,
“April” he said “what are you doing here”
“Her names not April, its May” I did argue
“No, my names April” she smirked “Get me quite away from this ****”
My mouth fell to somewhere in the middle of the earth,
I had felt my love for her was bulletproof
But she was the one who shot me
And watching her walk away, I did wonder
Why was she here drinking all the red wine?
She was perhaps my intoxicated valentine,
The one who I didn’t deserve,
She’s gonna leave me in quarantine,
She left me with this horrible disease,
And I don’t think it will ever cease
She was my evil intoxicated valentine
She was my bitter intoxicated valentine.

f.f. & m.g.
Jude kyrie Dec 2015
9She was about six.
That age of ceaseless question's.
Here it came. the doozy.
Mommy where did I come from.?
I should have been better prepared.
She had caught me off my guard.
Do I make this a biology lesson.
Full of penisses and vaginas.
Or does she deserve the hard truth.?
I rationalize the truth is always better.
You come from the snows of the
Canadian rockies.
Cold winter days
And nights.
where I ached for your father.
Love on the bed
and kitchen table.
Underwear strewn
about the house.
Burning in fires
that needed quenching.
Even when making
apple crumble in the kitchen.

Her eyes looked quizzically at me .
demanding a better answer.
She said
Mom so babies come
from apple crumble?
I said yes honey
From apple crumble
Tarek Benbrahim Aug 2020
Time Flies 
Bodies Are Distant
Pain is Intermittent
broken into plural of Fragment
You Pulled At strings of Heart
I m Not Unwilling To Tear Apart
Just Sing For me One Part of Mozart's Art
Don t You think It seves me Right ?
Save me from the Evil Deeds
Don t you Have Sympathy For Me
Is that  Right ?
I m not Fancy Agonizing
I Can t keep Up  With  Obsessing
I don t need to A therapist
I am A Callous Rock I ought To Resist
HowEver You Were Energized EnougH To Dig for  An Astonishing Crevice

I m in doubt
I m a bit of sceptic
I can t Believe You !
I can T put my trust in you Anymore
That Doozy of  Love is Actually  not Realistic
I m Loyal
My standards my Reputation
Both are Royal
That s Why I Can t Be roles Player
Because You are The Heart Breaker
I am The  Words  Doctor
I am An Author
Not A Devil's Advocate  Actor
I won t return Back  to Love's Island
Because I ve already become A Defector
Just Do It !
Nomad Dec 2017
You probably know
What this poem is about
It's probably generic
Of that I've no doubt.

But what you don't know
Is her.
And why it's her.

She's the breath of fresh air
That puts the wind in my sails
Even if it's all just hot air
It's her love that never fails.
Impossible, I know
But it isn't love for me
But to the Lord it goes.

And when she smiles
It's like the seeing a sunny patch of snowy fields when the clouds have gone away.
So blindingly bright
And reassuring in every way.

It's the touch of her hand
On our walks through the park
It's the feel of her so close to me
When the world has grown dark.

It's the way she laughs
Like bells with a tune.
It makes me crazy
To wait for the next one soon!

The way she chooses a different shampoo
The smell of flowers, nature, or anything really
When I say "I just like the smell of you"

And it's the face she makes
As soon as those words leaves my lips
It makes my head spin in circles
Leaving me on trips.

She's wicked smart,
Smarter than I'll ever be.
She knows it too
So she always tells me.

She'll say all these words
And these numbers so fast
I struggle to keep up
I feel left in the past!

But you wouldn't know her
Just quite the way I do.
You know all about this poem
But not enough about her, do you?

There couldn't be enough words to say
In this short life of mine
I tell her this every time
But she'll simply shoo me away.

And when she gets angry
Well button down the hatches boys
Cause as I live and breath
we'll be in for a doozy

So watch your step
And step right this way
We hope that you enjoy the show
Cause I'll have more words to say.

No, you wouldn't know her
No, not the way that I sure do
But this ring in my pocket is killing me
Cause I'm scared to finally try something
New
Tonight's gonna be a doozy,
My supply recently went dry.
Might not be feeling too happy,
But I'm sure I'll be staying spry.
I searched for any hidden stash-
Although I failed, at least I tried.

Thoughts are churning, starting to race,
My droopy eyes begin to glaze.
A certain numbness in face
Reveals that I'm in quite a daze.
I must confess, I feel displaced
Inside of this musty, dense haze.

The cat just keeps ******* sneezing,
How annoyed I am's amazing.
Maybe I can help its wheezing-
She can't whine if she starts blazing!
With this notion, I'm just teasing,
Though she'd always stop from freezing!

How long I'll stay awake tonight,
You can all assuredly bet
That I may greet the morning light,
However, nobody should fret-
I'll soon sleep with enough of a fight
And wake up in total regret...
Dave Hardin Nov 2016
Winter

On a beach last summer between
Munising and Grand Marais
a glitch in the space-time continuum
a case of Someone dropping the ball
rent a nasty tear in the firmament
a real doozy I would have missed
but for the high voltage bite of a stable fly
that wrenched me into the letter Z
upended the blue horizon long enough
to catch a glimpse of winter
gunmetal grey behind summers
drooping curtain, a fluke of nature
like the platypus
like a knuckleballer  
like improvisational jazz
but I still pause in warm April rain  
beneath golden autumn leaves
while pressing a beaded bottle of beer
to the scar on my neck
hot July afternoons and listen
for the icy bite of my name
a faint rhythm
building to crescendo.
Bob B Mar 2017
Another claim, and it's a doozy.
This one's crossing new frontiers
Of paranoia and total insanity.
You'll hardly believe your very own ears.

Kellyanne CONjob is now saying
In all seriousness that they've
Determined that Donald Trump could have
Been spied on via a microwave!

There's no need for evidence
In our conspiracy theory society.
Just make up anything
And it can be the cause of anxiety.

Put the finest dress on a fib;
However, no matter how hard you try
To decorate and embellish it,
Your lie simply remains a lie.

Trump had better check his Sharpie.
Who knows? It might be bugged.
And just to be safe, his coffee maker
And blow-dryer should stay unplugged.

- by Bob B (3-13-17)
Dylan Jun 2015
Honey, you're my darling,
but do you know
what it is I'm starting?

Honey, you're my baby,
but do you know
what it is I'm saying?

Honey, you're a doozy,
but do you know
what it is I'm doing?

Honey, you're not ready,
and you don't know
where it is I'm heading.
High speed. Shouts and screams.
Cool air, and the art of lost rhythms.
Make up, blush, black doozy mascara,
An overdose joint production!
(revamped, retooled, and reviewed for the mad council).

Admiration and kudos to quick as
greased lightening witted language
mongers gifted with means to deflect,
stave off, or thwart venemous, sacri
legious, pompous,et cetera lethal
impacts delivered chiefly to ***
*** in ate character, degrade, ex
Cory ate, where deliberate hefty
insult bruited viz zit head via bit
ting acrimonious gloating by some

trumpet ting twelfth knight, Mar-a-
Lago dwelling, Don Juan, Cassa
nova interloper ideally to be met
and taken rite off guard with cutting,
fitting, and incriminating scythe leant
taste of bitter pill as bad medicine
measure for measure, which earns
repartee deliverer at the least (cut
ting to, the quick principled litter
a chore thieving magpie klepto

maniac maven anyway) raising
the bar, per how can eye whip up
a creative reply to ward psychic
bruises as would be confirmed
by an x-ray evidencing sharp black
Amy Lloyd Barbs lobbed my way.  
Plight reiterated and described again re
phrased as mine good humor hum
dinger mew zing ct-scan reveals
(outsize funny bone) pinpointing

tiny thesaurus sim card firmly
permanently embedded, where temple
(my Mansfield) binds as the Great
Chaim Yonkle yiddish alt pun stir Perry
Como crooning se yammo, a friendly ****
mum exchange (minus jet lag) oye vay,
boot how novel, if I could wit
ness (or personally experience) quick
lightening rod quips would come to me
rescue (supercalifragilisticexpialidocious),

but generally, honestly and indubitably,
this flustering rhymster, who with bluster
brownian movement attests and accepts
slow moving cogs and wheels of his
aging noggin normally, notoriously
and nominally NEVER nsync with
nearly top notch national scrabbling
Facebooked bountiful brigands, this
will never happen to utter trail blaze
zing, nail biting, and hair raising awe

some adage, badinage, and/or  persiflage
more likely than not, mum hindlacks
proper cerebral mechanism to dream,
and get linkedin exactly at  prime time.
An absolute beauty of a doozy, flapping
like a ******, hypothetically intimated be
totally tubularly groovy, man and find
me a bit woozy with flickr ring shutterfly
twittering wii zing hacking, joyous, and
kindling euphoria asthma sign us would

go thru roof of mouth boot opportunities
foregone to daydreaming after serious
lapse of time, yet speculatively, and in
sum re: prime tete a tete would spring up
to parry, defang, and blunt puncture of
mine  psyche (imaginatively zinging red
zinger, would be one for the record books),
sans right on cue, rapier jabbing (yet art
fully crafted), an unusually timely resip
rick cal sparring touché (leading com

petition, by my itty, bitty ditty), witty
award winning smart riposte would a
rise supremely after incidents arose from
circumstance, yet twin next opportunity
passes, the critical moment will slip,
away suspecting sanctimonious sham
rock leprachaun spiritedly skewered
lucky charms finding me wishing the
means existed to conjure an instant replay
all to often when recipient of unkind word,
taken aback sans ideal return synaptic salvo.

— The End —