Best Armpit Poems
O my Lord, I hope you don’t see man as virus or disease
This bright blue globe you gave us faces such profound unease
We’re told that we will drown or burn though some of us will freeze
And only you can save us… can we have our ball back please
We drive our cars and fly in planes for holidays on skis
And now they tell us that we’ve brought our planet to its knees
We’re gonna catch the sun and stick up windmills in the breeze
Which feels like ‘fingers-crossed’ so, can we have our ball back please
We make it, break it, use it up
We throw it in the trash
And then we buy another one
Cos all it costs is cash
But now it seems our number’s up
We’ve been a little rash
This Earth unlike the phoenix
May not rise up from the ash
Another storm has ripped up houses, bridges, cars and trees
The sewers overflowed into the rivers and the seas
But now we’re in a heatwave and it’s thirty-five degrees
It’s really rather hot so can we have our ball back please
The scientists keep saying we eat too much meat and cheese
They tell us we can all survive on lentils, beans and peas
Which won’t achieve too much when just a few of us agrees
And so I have to ask you, can we have our ball back please
We make it, break it, use it up
We throw it in the trash
And then we buy another one
Cos all it costs is cash
But now it seems our number’s up
We’ve been a little rash
This Earth unlike the phoenix
May not rise up from the ash
This thing that’s wrong with planet Earth is killing bugs and bees
And coral reefs have had their day in many far off seas
Though governments may talk a lot, they never hear our pleas
Their taxes will not save us… can we have our ball back please
We leave our oil and gas right there beneath the sands and seas
Then ship more in with diesel fumes and importation fees
We’re gonna catch the sun and stick up windmills in the breeze
Which feels like ‘fingers-crossed’ so, can we have our ball back please
We make it, break it, use it up
We throw it in the trash
And then we buy another one
Cos all it costs is cash…
To save the world we’re armpit deep
In net zero decrees
But only you can save us…
Can we have our ball back please
1) Pick up the cat and cradle it in the crook of your arm as if holding a baby. Position forefinger and thumb on either side of the cat's mouth and gently apply pressure to cheeks while holding pill in right hand. As the cat opens it's mouth pop pill into mouth. Allow cat to close mouth and swallow.
2) Retrieve pill from floor and cat from behind sofa. Cradle cat in arm and repeat process.
3) Retrieve cat from bedroom and throw away soggy pill.
4) Take new pill from package and cradle cat in left arm holding rear paws tightly with left hand. Force jaws open and push pill to back of mouth with right forefinger. Hold mouth shut and count to 10 .
5) Retrieve pill from goldfish bowl and cat from top of wardrobe.
6) Kneel on floor with cat firmly wedged between knees. Hold front and rear paws ignoring low growls emitted by cat. Get partner to hold head firmly with one hand while forcing ruler into mouth. Drop pill down ruler and rub cat's throat vigorously.
7) Retrieve cat from curtain rail and take another pill from the package. Make note to buy new ruler and repair curtains. Carefully sweep shattered figurines and vases from hearth and set aside for gluing later.
8) Wrap cat in a towel and get partner to lie on top of cat with head just visible from below armpit. Put pill in the end of a drinking straw, force cat's mouth open with pencil and blow down the straw.
9) Check label to see if pill is harmful to humans and drink a pint of beer to take the taste away. Apply band aide to partner's forearm and remove blood from carpet with cold water and soap.
10) Retrieve cat from neighbor's shed and get another pill. Open another beer. Place cat in cupboard and close door firmly on neck. Force mouth open with dessert spoon and flick pill down throat with elastic band.
11) Fetch screwdriver from garage and put cupboard door back on hinges.
Drink beer, fetch bottle of Scotch, pour a shot and drink. Apply whiskey compress to cheek to disinfect, then toss back another shot.
Throw away remnant of T-shirt and put on a new one.
12) Take cat to vet and get him to give cat the pill.
What sort of homeless person would I be
Would I cart all these books everywhere with me
Would I scream and shout to keep the world at bay
Or would I nod and smile by my tin cup each day
Would I dress real well, try to look like a swell
Or would I let myself go, not put on a show
Would I turn to drugs or would I stick with booze
What would I have to lose
Would I rant and rave about equality
And how you look right through me
Or would I understand -
you need to keep what you’ve got
You don’t want to land in this spot
Would I have any hope, would there be any rope
Gone are the jobs that kept the unlucky on track
Now the squirrels are on crack, the humans on smack
The armpit of L.A. gets hairier by the day
god has 3 perfect lives
and he lives them simultaneously
arent you fathoming the power of god?
One of them is a gullible god
and he walks around not knowing he is a gullible god
and he will have conversations with you
and like a genie where you dont know you are making a wish you are
i feel oceans and worlds apart from my husband but forever will be gay
but an everlasting nightmare it remains
and then the next thing you kno wyou are the victom
One of them is a prophet
god surprising god
and everytime he does he regains his throne
and the only way to stop him
from regaining his throne
is to put him in his little bubble of ignorance
a world that isnt true and let him lead
see if he can see the truth and fool you all
The third god is the god that everyone murders
by slapping their elbow armpit and saying debbie does dishes
but keep in mind there is a curse to this perfect life
for god will live every single life from the beginning to the end of time
and be voted in and out of murder as you slap your inner elbows
and you never know when god is walking in your shoes
for the other gods have a time machine for this wish to be true
and satan the code name for the murderer as everyone alive gets a turn
to kill their nightmare or dream come true and defeat their enemy
since the beginning of time every writer every prophet every poet
has been predicting this crime scene for death to avenge
and then welcome everyone to eternity
as we all become different crime scenes of a matrix to keep us living
happily ever after escaping our nightmares
and living our dreams
it just takes time
so keep on dreaming
and eventually with gods puzzle of angels and demons and 3 gods and other
worlds i'll be back and slide to help you
just keep believing!
Your skin glows like the Watermelon,
blossoms Amazing as the Lily in the purest hope of spring.
My yearning heart rises to your Drumming voice
and leaps like a Giraffe at the whisper of your name, Bo.
The evening ascends in on a great Nightengale wing.
I am calmed by your Panties that I carry into the twilight of Remotebeams
and hold you next to my Armpit.
I am filled with hope that I may dry your tears of Mountain Dew.
As my Nostril falls from my T Shirt,
it reminds me of your Lamp Shade.
In the hushed, I listen for the last ZING of the spring.
My heated Earlobe leaps to my Hobo.
I wait in the crystal moonlight for your secret Pot
so that we may Slide as one, Earlobe to Earlobe,
in search of the glorious Maroon and spiritual Trophy of love.
HAR HAR HAR!!!
O young Lochinvar is come out of the west,
Through all the wide Country this guy they detest,
And save armpit noises he talent had none,
He thought they were funny and thought they were fun.
He thought that his 'talent' would make him a star,
But no one did care for the young Lochinvar.
He left San Francisco and charged straight ahead,
To Lower Manhattan is where he was lead,
But ere he was granted his first interview,
Producers were tipped-off and everyone knew,
His act was so silly and really bizarre,
They wouldn't audition the young Lochinvar.
Yet boldly he walked into Carnegie Hall,
And tried to astound them and tried to enthrall,
He made armpit noises and tried to impress,
(The day was quite sunny, but here I digress),
They dropped him in feathers and rolled him in tar,
'Twas nearly the end of the young Lochinvar.
"I won't be discouraged", he told them that day,
And then made his mark as he waddled away,
With sticky black footprints of feathers and tar,
He walked to the corner and bought a guitar,
Thinking, "I will be wonderful, I will go far",
But life would get worse for the young Lochinvar.
He took a few lessons, the Chet Atkins way,
With that and his armpit he started to play,
The audience booed him and tossed him outside,
He fell on his ass and it injured his pride,
And Lochinvar whispered, "Twere better by far,
Had I stayed with the armpit and scrapped the guitar."
He went to a bar and he drank a few beer,
He thought it would help him and give him some cheer,
But all it did give him was heartburn and pain,
And from that day onward, was never the same,
He'd never be famous and never a star,
'Twas the end of the line for the young Lochinvar.
He moved back to 'Frisco and rented a room,
Was the height of the Hippies, with flowers in bloom,
At Ashbury Avenue, corner of Haight,
They thought he was wonderful, thought he was great,
Now people throw dollar bills into a jar,
It's life in the '60's for young Lochinvar.
AFRICAN SQUARE
An Afro-Ant lost across the Mediterranean
In his home a royal, but on a white land an alien
I asked about his mission to the pig farm
Shhhh! He said, be calm
For I am on the search for the Gulf of Guinea
To get not only Gold but Ivory
I asked if he had a map in his hairy armpit
Lest his journey he better quit
For Africa is at his South
With traces of unmarked path.
I left my Stranger to get him water
So that he jumps to Africa faster
But when I returned with palm wine in a pot
He had run away with his fellows in my court
So if you see Ants so dear,
Help them locate the African square.
(This poem was written for all Africans in Diaspora seeking to locate their true identity in Africa)
Nothing compares to your hands
I bathe in your warmth
the hollow of your armpit
is my shelter...
It cannot be helped
we can't be anywhere
except together...
I'd like to paint you
I choose crimson
my fingers touch your blood
life springs from your flower-fountain
folded lips caress the seams of my eyelids...
You injected yourself into my life
entering my blue and red streams
I cannot filter you out
you have bitten me firmly
the paths of my nerves are yours...
It seems you are so much me
my type O lover
I cannot tell anymore
the what is you and what is me
there is love in cellular arrangement...
Your dark angel eyes
cut like swords inside my flesh
waves rush between our bodies
my blood cells which are my stars
flows to yours which are my lights...
We share the warm blood of lovers
I once read where
the Angler fish attaches himself
to the female with his razor sharp teeth
and in time they share a common bloodstream...
Wisdom tooth, the oral root of prophesy
I respect you with all my worth
When you speak my eyes come
I wake up and turn as you order
I constrict like a serpent stung
At your command I fizzle like coke
My champagne foams in your honor
My hands mate at the throat
Wisdom tooth, for you anything
Ice cube in my armpit
Burial in the swimming pool
Tight diadem on the head
I speak in tongues, Tooth!
Make your choice:
I will call you my uncle
my tutor, my referee, my signatory
You are the Untainted Governor, Sergeant-at-arms, president for life
Bishop of my church, Perfect Prefect, Captain who never farts
Head of Dental Department, Commander-in-chief...
You are the Tooth of all Teeth
Your stitch is profound and unfaltering
Your ache indefatigable and mature
Your wisdom infinite yet insurmountable
Your target is spot on
You are majestic and brilliant
Your unrelenting questionnaire
Appeals to the veins
See how my eyes are swollen
My hairs erect, my nose running
I am squinting with respect
My ears are blocked and left shoulder sags
I limp and claim to walk
Mighty tooth, you go anywhere
When I hear you I shiver
This far, you have brought me, Mister!
Look at the altar
I have brought you the sacrifice
A harvest of Chocolate cake, Sugar coats, Sugar cream, Bubble gum, and Candy Lozenge
All I have, I have put at your feet, mighty one
I surrender all
Take them all with you
Leave in peace
I live in peace!
Turbulant radient red sky with sheet swirl mashed potato
cloud mush peered lazily through a curious brown
haze of dirty armpit fizz, enlisted somewhere
bewteen a prebeginning solar start dot deposit burst peak
and a futuristic nuclear waste singulsr hand mitten
all in lieu of a sadeyed slowburn glowing tuxedo-still
and looking on with rolled up flannel sleeve gross
passivity. I slurped around the grand gravel
entrance up and down brown round and rocky
pinging and jumping. Wide spaces
grappling with the refuse laden humo motif of
endeless manwomanchildpet pickings. I round the teetering
trough trench like curves unwitnessed to the sight beholding
ever present but none as gigted. Poor mouth
super excrement excuses like duct tape type at the end
of its reality roll---never enough for the final fix.
I watched as multitruck things silently
dispatchingly dispersed and unloaded their
grusome garbage waves on good mother earth.
Battles can leave muscles working as man and time spitspent
slowcuspocus appendages working at top mph
pushing shoving shoveling piling before the light
pace calls it another disgusting dillday.
without the slighest the remorse--my stomach began
to wrenchabit and my eyewells passed be free
me. The gulls some truck lenght away were
spuriously sifting smilingly through the
human wreckings in a last light meal
remedial refrain--as intense as
the dumpers became the dumpees. I angered as
the populace as myself delivered my putrid parlay
and proceded to the mass exit as if it were
OK. The quality of messy mercy stops at the buck. I need not squander the dull likings of my kind
of indifferenleunce on the hapless mis constraints of
a well informed psuedo citizenery. I hope the land rebels
someday and eats us all by the very
seeds we so sow. Garbage is as garbage does
but it's the tidy attitude of human complacency that
wipes my ass so clean---look to the trash cans for---hope.
In the deep veins of her corridors
Flow thick blood of academic Excellency
Dwelling in the hearts of her blocks
Is the dream to serve the nation
Patiently we had to wait
for the lovely and beautiful expectant UNIMA.
To give birth to her, the giant of the land.
The fourth labor of mother UNIMA
Yielded this bouncing baby of the warm heart of Africa
Standing still with her pillars in the armpit
The armpit of great Masauko Chipembere highway
She is the real reason. The reason,
Why Malawi swims in the deep rivers of Africa.
Across the borders raising its flag in the white man’s land
We have never imagined that there can be this day.
A day that joy and celebrations will find their way.
Out of our minds and into every corridor of hers.
Tears of happiness flowing down the cheeks of Blantyre
The day when every institution trembles with fear
Bowing down to this great conqueror of the land
Crowning her as the great Queen
With her kingdom celebrating 25 years of victory
The silver jubilee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Who else in this inhumane edifice
can dance while the suspecting eyes stare
at his moistened armpit?
Pathetically unknowing music uplifts not just the soul but the intellect.
Who else got the fire in imparting?
or …
did theirs even start a single spark since then?
Who else brings out the best in these hopefuls?
It’s all the worse and worst that they see.
And you think San Pedro would be pleased
when you gloat you made all the priests, doctors, and engineers?
Woe to you who humiliate the chair by your indolent butts
while uttering kindergartenous blabbers you claim to be education!
Then you get all you want while tabula rasa remains tabula rasa.
And you
You seated on the higher chairs!
Why don’t you trample down awhile
and put your cataracting sight to use
before it even brings you to the death of light.
Has anyone of you even heard what your god told to Pontius Pilate?
Ha! The you-have-no-power-over-me’s have always been impervious to you bigots!
And you say to your kin let me handle it.
When it is delayed and their impatience grows
you see they’ll leave.
Did you ever fret about deadlines
of bills, of matriculas, of debts?
What do you feed to your clan? Feeds?
Get Ripley’s here!
Oh how divine to utter all the Fs!
An Entrant into Catie Lindsey's FREE VERSE TIME AGAIN Contest
©February 20, 2013
Still,
Of her father
Even after hair in her armpit
After her four years sojourn in our citadel
With puberty wearing her a beautiful toga
She remains in the shadows of her father.
Of a Mary,
The father’s virgin
Slim, willowy and parrotic
Energetic, ever vivacious with life
An Amazon of a kind with a flawless curvature
Still, of her a Polyglot not a bigot
Her 21st years day was under his nose
She can neither sneeze nor
Cough of a man near him
Still tied to her father’s umbilical cord
She is not Virgin Mary
Of the Joseph the carpenter
But Mary, the Father’s Virgin
I laugh only to myself
As I dream and await the day the
Holy spirit will commingle with her
For her holy pregnancy
Mary, my Mary
Remembering my voyage
Of innate curiosity to her
And my emotional adventure into her life
Then, only then
As an innocent dare-devil teenager
Yet, I could not unlock her truest life
Oh! She regarded it as teenager’s world
Of lesser emotional journey
Then, and then
My dream to fly her like an eagle
Was dwarfed by her
But for many, the father’s virgin
I gave up not
For I like ‘morrow’s dream
Than the history of the past.
Alayande Stephen T.
21st of June 2007
10.15am
NB-Still in Iba, meant for Funke Mary Izobo,
A friend still tied to the Apron string of her father.
the night before yesterday
a boy about six or seven
from a country of far east
where holy waters meet
was disturbing a girl on net
the girl was an extra smart
anyhow she managed to catch
and dragged the boy on a roof
to teach him lesson for life
in anger and raze she dropped
from a height of about fifty feet
but with her wonders she saw
the naughty boy did not die at all
in his armpit he had bird’s wings.
A Beggar sitting along the road,
Touching his old wound,
Hiding the heal in his armpit!