Best Cooly Poems


Cheater

Hey big man, I see you standing there.
My heart you had.
My back you stabbed.

You watched me get sick and fall.
What a terrible fight it was to climb back up that wall.
You went on in stride, no support, no worry at all.

Another woman you found.
She fed your ego,
Made sure you didn’t feel small.

In secret you would text and call.
Days, evenings and night you spent with her.
When I asked, you dismissed it all.
How nice you were out on a date
As I had to sit at home and wait;
The dinner I made you cooling on its plate.

What you told her about me I will never fully know.
Maybe that I wasn’t  home, that I didn’t care, or was simply unaware.
I learned on the nights I tried to reach you and was cooly neglected, 
She was by your side idly sitting there.
Listening as your dismay for me you would declare.
She knew she was causing damage and despair 
But of which she didn’t care.

So enamored you were;
Every morning you woke thinking of her.
Time spent with me you detested; 
With her it would‘ve been so sweet.
You told her how great she was,
And when you two couldn’t meet,
It was disappointment you would greet.

You protected her, coveted her, and wanted her so bad,
But she was only after you for what you had.
I should’ve held my mouth.
Watched as her drama bled you dry.
Then you would’ve been the one to cry.

She ruined your family and every bit of trust she stole.
Pretty she’s not, bulbous forehead and face like a troll,
Inside, a nasty, rotted soul,
But her body and false charm she used to get you under her control.

I hope it was worth it .
What you threw away.
Maybe you’ll feel regret or sadness.
Someday.
© Rae Oliver  Create an image from this poem.

Racism Takes You To Karma Hell

You are shelling out a lot
Of racist evil remarks
That I don't appreciate
Your full of negative hate
Why are you so cruel and mean
What have your darkened eyes seen
That turned you into a bully
Sputtering out words so cooly
With no regard to the feelings
Of the people you sent reeling
Into a depressive state
Soon it will be much too late
To fix damage you have done
Every time your hatred runs
From the dark shell of your soul
Not knowing the tragic toll
Your creating with your ways
And the way your words will slay
Into innocent hears and minds
That break with new words you find
Disregarding everyone you see
That looks and acts differently
From others that fit your norm
Keep this up and soon the storm
Will fall on your poor existence
Making you see the conditions
You've been putting others in
Will backtrack on you again
As karma and fate combine
Slowly over years of time
Causing havoc in your life
Making your days full of strife
Unkind--not caring at all
As you finally take the fall
Leaving you alone to pass
To hell that will kick your A--

The Insignificance of Man

Blunt deadly weapons of mass destruction
electrify, fracture, and
jeopardize *****Sapiens
species (and entire biosphere)
continuity rent asunder

doomsday declared (nuclear winter
gallows humor spelt
with eternal snow day)
dystopian authors outflanked
nuclear fallout wreaks worst

rocky horror picture
effected upon mankind
global (worldwide)
big screen radioactive
wee willy weber webbing

materiel severely seared
sepsis poisons deoxyribo
nucleic acid future generations
organic fiber cursed
simultaneous single simulcast

broadcast airs live after Royal Wedding
audience participation demanded
bumping ugly fleshless
formed fruitless fatal fumes
anomalies all – blinded

beastial begotten bemoan
brethren brood 
brutal burnt offerings
crackling, snapping,
and popping surreal muck

shapeless liquified populace
sloshing helter skelter
quests slither towards
aimless destination
bone a fied skeleton crews cruise

crying cretins creep cavalierly
crepuscular cratered city
cruel mushroom clouds
cloaked croaking cellophane charred
cancerous clumps career,
clomp continuously
chaos charts choking climate
cold comfort commanded collusion
commander in chief concurred

crumpled coveted constitution credo
crass conceit communicated
cooly came clean concerning
consensual coital cavort
crazy cream craving characterized

condoned combined crunching
crotch crab free **** -
condom free crux
contractual commingling
cashiered coverup

chic chica chick 
cigerette chewing 
clutched cocked club
choked chicken concluded
das capitol business

before he returned
to regularly broadcast program
the sea son finale
last chapter of human race

no winners, nor survivors
bleak contaminated Earth gasping
heaving jackknifed lost in vape
nonpareil planet reduced to vapor!


Hands ...

One tiny finger poking through the hole in her
     happy kitten mitten
touching window frosting chill
    delicate fragile fingertip
aching for the warmth
          on the other side

~~~~~

Cooly folded.
One atop the other.
Elegantly cultivated confidence.
Quietly calm.
Resting art in their beauty.
Eternally in peaceful repose.

~~~~~

Grizzled grumpy and stumpy.  Used
and useful.  Scarred, calloused,
nails bitten to the quick and still
dirt finds its way beneath.  And with the
delicacy of a hummingbird extracting its meal
from a bloom, clumsy mits gather a bouquet
of buttercups, tulips, lilacs, honeysuckle and tears
to lovingly place upon her grave ~

~~~~~

Frozen little nose joined
    fingertip on window longing
chattering chin accompanies
    quivering knees in the saddest tune
crumpling ...
Oh
    Grizzled hands, loving hands
wrap kitten mittens in aching
longing
   and gently carries her to the inside
warm.

Farrago Go Again With My Gallimaufry

A nascent hodgepodge
     of gobbledygook from me,
or alternatively yours
     nada soo true lee,
this incipient harm
     less bumbling in das scribe
     hubble wordy monster prithee
lee, nonchalantly, and lovingly

     enjoys generating inscrutable mish
     mash vocabulary, 
     which vapid unsolicited
     largesse - from this dip see
dude dill ling, jabbering, dee
pull hoar rubble casket base,
     and quacking rub bush pre
mere ring this harried

     styled and swiftly tail
     lord gibberish - dee
lib writ lee doth
     write play full lee
to maximize obfuscation, dee
fie interpretation, and que
zook lee (quizzically)
     silently ha...ha...ha

     dis Matt chew wing,
     chuckling, unremarkably
     lamb baa sting king, she
push lee,  dauntingly we
sill lee (weaselly) undermining
     comprehension, whar ye
dear reader feel trapped
     without a turn key

continually sliding into this
old rotten Goth theme be
have (behave) Ural
     sink - as aye blithe lee
undoubtedly matter hoof
     act corroborate with (be
leave me you) this
     "FAKE" sniveling dee

mean nor (demeanor), the least
     bit concerned if ye
unfairly find mine cumber
     some harried style i.e.
spooner than later
     lore or mess free
dissociation, viz parched
     stream of consciousness me

thinks meandering into
     an oxbow lake hee
ping (by Dickens) yar rye
     ha (Uriah), where yar
tried patience probably
     didst syrup pass smoldering rage
     against this may pull leaf tree
cooly le (treacly) 

     slap dash helter
     skelter brash poppycock
     bereft, devoid, and fee
bully, sans ex tolling extra help
     pings of gibberish glee
fully - totally tubularly
     gloating how thee
moost experience

     utter frustration re:
garding figuratively wading,
     thru thicket of faux pre
tent shuss verbiage
     omitting even so mooch
     as a fore warning from
     this one percent nee
and dare dearth hull

     (Neanderthal) - as re:
veiled from genetic test
     23andme, an
     endeavor taken by me
eldest sister, - whose
     first name iz a male lee,
Harris - hyphenated with Mug gee
Hen (McGeehan).

Elemental Senses

Air shares its delightful grace
  stroking, caressing every face.
Wind tickles crawling clouds
  Then breezes by whistling loud.
Fire jigs a spritely dance
  spouting quips with pops and 
  cracks.
Water gulps a bubbling brew
  then babbles back a trickling tune.
Earth gazes cooly at warm light
 and breathes the musk of days 
damp night.

©  11-27-2012


Atalanta Reincarnate

(presumably still alive
predicated on rumored sightings dive
ving fast as blazing saddles, 
     her blitzkrieg, 
     nothing but a blurry beehive.)

Swifter than Usain
     (lightening) Bolt
Eden Liat
     (thine eldest daughter,
     a mixed hybrid breed
      greyhound and whippet)
     leaves in the dust
     topnotch any racehorse

     prompting speculation,
     she harkens, and begat
     from a long line,
     sans award
     (at trough feed ding),
     many a cooly 
     winning super naturally
     infused awk worded Colt

surpassing (with a flash,
     plus even sub track ting
     considerable handi
     capped add halt
ting delay), thine
     prestigious, princess,
     and prodigious exalt
ting marathon running

     smart lee zipping
     as a whip lash heiress,
     thru no fault
     in the stars
     of her astrological designs
oft times humbly declines
adulation, benediction, dedication
     and deferentially finds

reasons amazingly, gracefully,
     and mannerly deflects
     self imposed grueling practices,
     that she quickly grinds     
    into pulverized powder,
     any high top custom made
     high tech lines
     brand name

     threadbare sneakers saved
     with countless
     trophies that aligns
     storied (and stuffed
     animal bedecked)
     bookshelf, even gag
me with a spoon 
     humor tinged competitions,

     faux rotten tum ate oh
     (John Heinz)
seeded "ketchup with me"
     hash-tag game 
     opened to all kinds
of village people, including
     some barenaked ladies,
     where flashy Mainliners

     dressed to the nines
     (essentially for sound
     garden variety public,
     who generally favor squash),
     that crop up during
     Indian Summer salad days

     punctuates the warm air,
     where one after
     another lover doth appear
     oak kay embracing ephemeral
     pseudo sappy romance
     spine tingling
     as sharp needling pines.

The Blurred Times

The lines are blurred when blended
I know first hand that govenment grilled cheese sandwiches
are delicious as I shared them with Phillup my best friend,
black as night and true as time...he was my ace
His mother, my godmother Lucille, chased us out to play
in streets equal parts innocent and villainous
Street kids busted hydrants in blazing summer days
we ran through the water blasting sideways cooly
There was no race-hate-ignorant-violence
Black and White children playing with only the care
of our next adventure and the dread of a setting sun

All poor, all struggling, all trying to get by
lines were blurred and blended splendidly
playing a Guns N Roses tape for Lucille
as she laughed at the wailing voice
shaking her wise head saying "Here honey"
...."Listen"  replaced with Otis Redding
the pain and passion in his voice
hung in the hot air adding to the summer soundtrack

I moved to a whiter and "higher" place
better schools and cleaner streets
the children echoed their parents ignorant
hate filled diatribe...Ni**er this and Ni**er that...
...I visited Phillup as he moved to a rougher hood
the children echoed their parents ignorant 
hate filled diatribe...Honkey this and Honkey that...
Not one of those knowing the other...the lines
clear and defined.  Seperate and scornful
...I miss that beautiful blurred time in my life
   ...I wish everyone knew such a place existed

Stand By Your Man

I Hereby Salute!


Those were the days........
Uncle loomed in many ways............
More joy at home ..........
With the cards well played...........
Life has become lonely.........
Yet he takes it very cooly.............
Sits tall in his chair............
Undying spirit is his flair.........
In a house emptily........
Adulated by kin many.............
Some shy to express.............
His impartial heart not digress..............
Fathered hand.........
When shelter was anon..............
His door they knocked............
Their life was so blank.......
Knowing he was in there..............
Footholds found everywhere..........
Revered by those ..........
Whose hearts silently rose........
To a Man of integrity........
I hereby salute!



September 12, 2015
Contest: Stand By Your Man
Sponsor: Silent One

Premium Member All Roads Led To Hell, Until Gps

*Image of Global Positioning System by Rankr.

All Roads Led to Hell, Until GPS

An attempted refolded map resolved itself against a ruffled sort,
the championed driver -- not of cars,
GPS constants a dashboard as a storm flit to nonexistence,
ado about the guy at the wheel flits with it,
chuckles as dawn speaks and sunrise glints at a trustful eye,
an oiled motor now runs cooly, slightly fresh tire scarring rolls on,
a car stops on the side of a country lane,
an idling engine idles a bevy of doves perched on a limb,
opts for a U-turn as an all clearance was taken,
a mouth forces years of hardened cells upward, donning anew emerges,
whistling attuned to a suite medley of birdsongs while fingers push a fedora near a car ceiling,
stops at the florist, the candy store, and longer at the jewelers,
sounds of a car parking in the drive,
a woman wiping to dryness look sees a mirror,
a throat clears and coughed to a soothing, and hair is being fussed,
a trembling stand eases to absence, a door being faced down a hallway opens,
a bouquet of roses, a candy box, a gift box, and a rugged man fall in unison fronting an entry doorway,
weeping in glad tidings calls outwardly, "Look what my GPS said!" a shocked woman rushes forward to kneel,
The solid man raised his GPS to her ever-widening eyes,
GPS read out, "God Promises Salvation,"
Two souls lived contentedly until their hereafter in bliss.

2022 August 18

Empty Room

Alone again now
Seems no hope’s forthcoming
Nothing makes a sound
But a hearts hard drumming

The nights are cold, forlorn
Waiting for a touch
In pieces, a life torn
The need of you oh so much

An empty bed, an Empty Room
Wishing one were here
I’ll find you in dreams soon
Yes my love, take away my fear

And so as I think of you tonight
Love songs fill my mind
As I try with all my might
Hoping to search you out, and find

Deep thoughts, late nights, and fears
As I imagine how I’ll fare 
In my life, who will fill the years
With whom my heart and soul I’ll share

An empty bed, an Empty Room
Wishing one were here
I’ll find you in dreams soon
Yes my love, take away my fear

But for today only an Empty Room
Comforted cooly only by the moon
My love, I’ll be with you soon
Far away, in another Empty Room

Premium Member Sacramento River Wordscape

Redding Poem 2
"Sacramento River WordScape" 

These descendent waters swim like mad lagoon fish, 
Heading decidedly south with a fiery mindless turn,
Their cool liquid urgencies reaching to all sides enticing
The bosomy turning earth and its pectoral indecencies,
With an impotent power unknown to anyone alive now,
As watery signatures knife their way into the crestfallen sand bars,
Adrift in an ambiguous undertow of death-marked reticences;
Swimming and floating lazily as a red lily floats downstream,  
Enveloped cooly in blue clarity, absorbed by diamond sureness,
These arching trees lapping inward the reeking salmon atoms,
As rippling currents of heaving hands and wild bone sneezes,
Salvage the unsalvageable, and a solitary blue bird
Jiggling a crimson ring, as it bobs upon its ascended perch.

Premium Member Cliche'

My Boyfriend is, the Cat’s Meow, a Fat Cat.
He stays Busy as a Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, think of that..
He says the way I look is like: “Two Tom Cats in a Gunny Sack”.
It’s Raining Cats and Dogs but we need a snack.
We were Busier Than a Three Legged Cat in a Sand Box,
but I opted to go for Bagels and Locks.     
He Was On That Like a Pack of Dogs on a Three Legged Cat.
I kept thinking While the Cat’s Away the Mice Will Play.
When I got back he Looked Like the Cat who Swallowed the Canary,
He was Nervous as a Long Tailed Cat in a Room Full of Rockers.
Well, There’s More Ways to Kill a Cat than Choking it With Butter.
I got him busier than a One Eyed Cat Watching Two Mouse Holes.
Cat Got Your Tongue? I cooly extol.
When he finally Lets the Cat Out of the Bag,
I tell him to take his Alley Cat Morals and Scruples of a Snake,
and Quick as a Cat, vacate, don’t lag.  
Take that Cheshire-Cat Smile and Walk His Last Mile.

© Apr 10 2010

Glue Bill Whar Ming Dublin Down

Court hiss sea hove The Irish Times,
     this hum mere ruck can bloke
kin esse spy climb mitt till impact
     desiccation ravaging with choke

hold thee aim rilled isle,
     which haint ok key doke
cuz won hoot rook froom sun
     whelps like heretic burned at stoke!
-     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -   
More to the point (meaning jaw
ken minus **** faux
hackney poetic strung bow
Willy Wonka barely understandable

     twanged and twinged) accent
hen reed how, accomplishment
in garnering alarming
     news-worthy ailment

     while this Unit Aryan ensconced
     within beef hoar tee four comfortably
     numb burred battlement,
here at Highland Manor,

     I pay (if totally tubularly pennies rolled)
     approximately equaling bedazzlement
17,500 viz copper cent,
per month gratuity clement,

sans Grosse and Quade
     associates co-management
offered rental assistance congruent
(predicated on social security disability)

     to occupy one bedroom
     apartment kept air 
     conditioned 60°Fahrenheit
     perfect for concupiscent

     activity, albeit unfortunately marriage
     shot thru with celibacy
     suppressed sexless existence
more difficult to control

     than catching a tiger by the tail,
     hence this damned delinquent dependent
Dickensian dada cooly cruising thru
      cyberspace espying embodiment,

how measurable heating up
     Gaia, i.e. Mother Earth (she) evinces
     no illusory figment, and just by a fluke,
     the spontaneous Google search,

     keyed revealed tumy mine eyes,
     wretched webpage showed
     stark rising temperature gradient
Dublin, Ireland experiencing

     worst drought since
     records began 168 years ago
where Irish Water (utility)
     warned Dublin would run out of water
     in 70 days, a “worst-case scenario”
     necessitating hyper-efficient
protocols immediately inherent.

Premium Member Tree and Boy

seed
aloft,
lands lightly,
sends roots below,
sprouts into sunshine,
and, as the seasons pass,
becomes a great sycamore,
while, below, a boy lies face up,
and reflects under its swaying limbs,
"a climbing tree is not built in a day". 

tree
regards
a young boy's
strong, supple limbs
on a summer's day.
both of us, in our primes
he thinks, shading the spry youth,
cooly offering his branches,
pondering the pervasive creature,
"you see tree climbing boys every summer".

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