Best Cough Out Poems
Am lost a wondering wing, should have settled on some greenish fig
pains are tormenting stings, don't know what morrow brings
I cough out a little tougher, but non seen to hear
In this wondering world I falter but non feel my fear
I was sent to soar away mist, wearing this present earth
I should have foresaw the doom, and should have my wings kept
My eagle wings needs a medic, and there is non to tender
6/25/2020
The speed of sound is directly related to
Your visit to the washroom when you need a poop
If visitors are near
Don't want them to hear
So you cough out loud when a blast is due
I sing the songs of childhood
A forgotten time...
Before illusive fantasies of womanhood
Before hearing of the murder of my dreams
By the hand of my lover
Who demands of me
Things I cannot give
Forcing issues of loyalty
Between people I love
And a woman’s heart rends
Behind the curtain
Hidden concern bleeds to death
Overwhelmed
By the accusations
The violent demands
The questioning eyes
Slowly going insane
Wearing my mourning gown of pain
I sing
I dance
I twirl
Ophelia’s songs
Running through my head
Flowers in my hands
I dance
Traipsing towards….
The water’s edge
I wade in
Clothes and all
Looking for my cradle of solace
I lie back
Looking up at the azure sky
Songs of childhood
Of innocence lost
And heartaches won
A bird catches my eye
Soaring free
I stop singing
Slowly tilting my head back
The water covers my forehead
Nestles over my open eyes
Soothing me
Singing its own lullaby
A lullaby of childhood
Of happy times
Welcoming me
I push further back
And let the water
Surge into my open mouth
Through my nostrils
I drink it in
A moment more….
And I’ll be soaring free
I cough out water
Gasping for breath
I hear noises
A young girl crying
“Mama, Mama….breathe!”
A man’s arms are around me
Holding me to the side
Patting me on the back
As I cough out more water…
Spent
I lie back
And look into the sun
Close my eyes
I open my mouth
And sing songs
Songs of my childhood
I hear the young girl cry
I hear the man sigh
I hear the people around whisper
“She’s gone mad”
I sing
I open my eyes to search the sky
For a lone bird
Flying high
Singing….singing
Ophelia’s songs
Till my day turns into night….
For Anne Currin's Suicide Contest
August 2, 2013
The lips that kissed these tiled floors
now split to cough out damp clay dust.
Gathered in excited lungs, to build and mold forever more
under thatched roof of ripped canvas. Must
the strings that hold your heart in tune
be plucked free to dance upon the unknown noise.
That rings from peach sky mornings to hushed afternoon
in the sparrows song. Like the toys
that teach creation, Paintbrush’s whispering tongue
kisses white with every stroke. Scream
forth in colorful kindling that rung
your secrets in the wind, leaving dry lungs to dream
for knowledge as it seeps from tree rings,
the life sap frozen in amber wings.
I die over and over—
between pages—a ghost
in a world more real than my
own—drowning in ink—
willingly washed ashore—
swelling, bloating breath.
Against my nature of concealment,
I cough out the ink—everywhere—
chaos, carnality, collapse!
onto a canvas I cannot
cower from.
Who else perceives meaning there?
Who else feels the frenzy like fire?
In Scotland, it is illegal to be drunk in possession of a cow
But is it legal to make love to a cow while drunk
A man named Ronald MacDonald once robbed Wendy's
That sure sounds like a whole lot of burger bunk
There's actually a city in Turkey called 'Batman'
The law states all young boys must be named Robin
'Climax', Cumming' and 'Gay' are city names in Georgia
Need to be very liberal minded in the land of cotton
There's a city in Missouri named 'Licking' oh boy!
Also, one named 'Butts', that's a real hooter
A boy in a Florida was arrested for disruptive behavior
Excessive farting turned off classmates computers
Sony once accidentally sold 700,000 camcorders
That had the technology to see through people's clothing
Mozart wrote a canon entitled 'Leck mich im Arsch/
Translates to 'Lick me in the ****' naughty composing
Amazingly a man once wore 70 items of clothing
To avoid an airline's extra baggage charge
In a deck of cards, the only king without a mustache
Is the handsome debonaire King of Hearts
A Canadian farmer once rented ad space on his cows
His cows went on strike for a piece of the action
A book titled 'Everything Men Know About Women'
Filled with 128 blank pages which is only a fraction
Though they won't admit it, women fart as much as men
They cough out loud to disguise their big boomers
Takes forty-two muscles in your face to make a frown
Just four to smack someone's head needing a suture
In his dying words, Papa said of all Kofi Awoonor’s Poems taught in school
One which still lingers in the chambers of his heart is ‘the Sonnet of our world’
He stuttered, “Son-my son in today’s world everybody is screaming for attention
The intelligent, educated, eloquent, charismatic, all-all-all in fierce contention”
Papa said this is the Sonnet of an embrangled world
He said most will opt to be leaders than followers
They’ll cough out their egos and laud their names
They’ll strive for glory and they’ll never be ashamed
Papa sounded out “most will seek to be the next biggest thing in town
And that’s not important, but what matters is to serve and not to be served
Give yourself to your passion and have integrity in the things no one sees
Love more and laugh harder, and where I am going together we will be”
When I saw Papa pressed in his coffin like bread on a shelf
Unceasing tears rolled from my eyes
PP©2015
Noisy laughter escapes from my mouth,
As the muscles of my cheek over stretched ,
I open my mouth to shine my teeth
and expose my incisors and canines for the world to see ,
My cheeks expand suddenly,
Pouh! Pouh!!I cough out.. like an old locomotive or steam engine;
Saliva splatter all over, cold air flows into my chest;
As my bowel expands with a sharp pain ,
Water gathered in my eye balls ,to become wet lands,
I try to control it, but I couldn’t ,
Mouth gives a loud sound that raises my blood pressure,
My stomach vibrates like loud speakers,
Sending out a note like resonance tube;
Fou! Fou!! A gas escapes from my anus ,
Three times ; uncontrollable -that sounds like scud missiles ,
Shelling the whole room as I adjusted my seat ,
I try to control this ,but it persists as foul odour filled the air,
Am I a skunk ?my eyes turn red and full of tears;
As my phone falls from my hand, I laugh…
9-11-2018
CONTEST: Write Me an Emotion-Act sponsored by Brenda Chiri
With hearts closed,
And arts wide opened;
They looked on-
As a soul gradually turned off
Again,
The misset sat;
On that road of this and that
Indeed, its a system of maladies
These times are ill
With thoughts paralysed,
By the hits from selfie sticks
A soul laid dying
Fingers kept clicking;
As pictures of thick betise,
Dangled on the walls of truth
Gosh! These times are harebrained
With enough strength from negligence,
The flower finally withered;
For every click,
Made her demise silky
Again,
Another gain is gone;
Lost to the clutches of harum-scarum
Alas! These times are pallid
With nude values,
These times cough out this and that;
As our morals stay sneezing
Will and zeal are left shrinking
Interests remain broken
And wiseness still stuck in ice,
For probably, these times are cold
We used to care to care
And dare to share;
When truth wasn't rusted
And our roots had it's flair
When morals weren't watery
And our morale were still thick;
Rich in outreaches,
That stitched all hitches
How long would we blame witches,
For the cause of our fall?
Daily we hear preaches,
Yet we still seem here
Here,
Stuck in this rock of this and that
Surely, these times are snoring;
Let sleeping times wake!
They vacate their personality
They put their hands above their level of subsistence
They paint themselves gold in the midst of admirers
They paint their lying lips with their lipstick of deceit
They divide themselves Like Landed properties
They delude themselves in false pretense
They live on borrowed robes to undress their true personality
They let themselves to be destroyed by the belong syndrome
They deceive the fragile minds of their followers
They Lay their foundation with their sweet tongue and cement it with a thousand lies
They cough out sweet stories to sandwich the brains of their victims
They create an atmosphere of affluence in the eyes of on lookers
They begin to move, shake. and tremble in the face of uncertainty
After all they are the movers and shakers of the society.
The foundation begins to crumble as the lies begins to unearth
Then, the stammering mouth folds up in shame as the true person is revealed
I looked for a pen to write your name with but I couldn't find one
I felt pressured to run and tell of our little secret
I felt honored to be at your service
My breath of love
My breath of life
Tonight, let's make our secret known
Let's cough out the bad, to make room for the good
Let's make love up high, far away
Where only our breath of love breathes
HIS BURNING BRIDE
Certainly it is him
The incessant coughs give him out ;
He is in the balcony
Wrapping and kissing his defacto bride .
His dejure wife snores
From her side he steals him out ;
No, he won’t just blink ,
Till both eyes are fully screened
With carbon from his mistress’ chimney.
Though forewarned by his carers
To stay clear of self-suicide
So much he hates himself
That in love of his burning bride
He loudly knocks at quietus’ gate
When the arrow of habit hits him
Like a dog that wants to cough out a bone he does
Till he spits out jelly-red ;
Too much of these have happened
That today he smelt burial mat.
A frost cloud hovers above me
Numbing my senses
Trying to freeze a vital organ inside you see
Sometimes it gets so cold nothing seems to matter
As im put in a deep freeze
I spit it up
And cough out my lungs
Feeling dissappionted with the world
As im sure it will be also with me
I guess i could live a life unsung
Because all this frustration in me builds pressure
Oh how i wish i could just run and fly
What's the point in being sober
If you still feel like you want to die
Just want to run and hide
Waste away
And burn out in a twinkle of an eye
So are these thoughts in this cold winters sigh
The speed of sound is directly related to
Your visit to the washroom when you need a poo
If visitors are near
Don't want them to hear
So I cough out loud when a blast is due
Semblance veneer, a city's fear,
cadence for ears, all who are brave.
The rash of feet, like fleeing deer,
No rest until their souls are saved.
Canyons of steel and glass allow,
crossed windowed eyes that do not trust.
The same old story comes hollow
to the unconcerned, just like us.
Smack the facade, a headstrong plea,
from lack of yield on some cold ground.
For every crack, a fantasy,
and from each step, a hollow sound.
It's the snare of the promising,
the hit mode of the undeterred.
Not lacking the street-racked sounding,
by one, to be observed.
A thousand fearless and one bold fictions,
soles worn thin against the gray.
A pledge for their inclinations,
conquer another taxing day.
Bang the surface, a steady feat,
A benchmark of yearning we hold.
To gain a spot on this grand street,
Not to be measured with the old,
the failed, shattered, and the muted.
Who fell before they gained their goal?
We grow and push, we're not routed,
metro's our will, no claim, no hold.
Smash the dumb mask, a damnation,
It's evidence of what we face.
We tread ahead, we don't question,
Our nature molds a nonstop pace.
In this arcade, snakes slithered maze,
We find our meaning, find our grace.
Rest our weary bones on some chaise,
We're winning in this urban race.
Stalked digi-miles to cough out debt,
found in scruffy leather and frayed.
'Hail Mary' caused tears as they wept,
bills paid, I'm made whole, time for trade.