Best Peppy Poems
She's too skinny. She's too fat.
He's too white. He's too black.
She's too pretty. She's not hot.
He wears stripes. He likes dots.
She's too peppy. She's too sad.
He's too cheerful. He's too mad.
She's too quiet. She's too loud.
He's too humble. He's to proud.
She's too much a lady. She's not enough.
He's too weak. He's too tough.
She's too lenient. He's too strict.
I can't have a conversation without pitching a fit.
It's too old. It's too new.
I want more than one, but I'll hate having two.
It's too original. It's too much the same.
I don't care if you say it's awesome, I say it's lame.
Too young, too old, too short, too tall,
I have standards to uphold, and you'll conform to them all.
Although we don't see eye to eye,
And our opinions are as different as whole wheat and rye,
I won't unfollow, I won't ignore.
I'll shove my opinions through your front door.
I'll shame you in public and criticize your name.
It's not "just a movie". It's not "just a game".
Your misery is my happiness, unless I get what I want,
And I'll get what I want through threats and insults, hatred and taunts.
You will confirm until we agree.
This is all about me, me, me.
Categories:
peppy, discrimination, hate, race, racism,
Form:
Couplet
Where smiles grow, there is a joyously bright light within.
Color where a happy orange or peppy pink, even twilight violet; celebrate the gifts.
Smiles are like rainbows; palettes of light.
Categories:
peppy, appreciation, fun, poetry, rainbow,
Form:
Sijo
Prevarication permits pretend perception, presenting
piquantly piqued, pimply pimping playboy, plucky
pulchritudinous previously pusillanimous, prevalently
puckish, psychic packman, pokemon playing proletarian
puppeteer pygmy, peevishly punky, plummy, plumy,
pompously pushy, pampered, prefabricated pinchbeck,
pokily plying plowshear, plodding peregrination, pied
piper pitifully peppy pornographic potato pealing,
parsimonious paradoxical protagonist, proposing
preposterous panicky pacification plots, prioritization
pertinent penultimate peroration, perhaps perceiving
perjuring, perplexing, perverting puzzling pronouncements
projecting pulsating pixelated pulpy pinball pinging
packets prompting pacific, poetic, phlegmatic purplish
psoriasis plagued, plumbum pallor pallid, Paleolithic
protuberance pronounced, psychosomatic prohibitionist,
polarizing perfunctory peculiarly progressive, patriotic
postmodern pathologically proud paternal panache,
peripatetic panaceas portraying prescient perfidious
puerile president, predominantly proposing parochial
principles, plenty public parking, purposefully
promoting pharisee phalanxes, pilates practicing
paragons, perennially peaceably proficient protesters,
profitable polygamy, pugnacious pitbull powerball
players, pandering polyandry, propagating professional
palindrome pensive peeping people, peddling,
proselytizing predicating prostitution, proliferating
phenomenally, populist persona promulgated peyote
phased physicians pioneering prescription promoting
paradisiacal pricey photographic pictures, placating
phrenetic physical perturbation partaking place
purchased (paid paltry pennies) por palatial piazza.
Categories:
peppy, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Free verse
There is a good possibility that you are a hero tried and true...
You may not know it, but there is probably someone watching you.
It could be a child that lives next door...
Or it could be the peppy cashier at your favorite store.
Many heroes don't get a lot of press...
But many watch to see how their hero deals with a mess.
Most don't draw crowds or lead a parade...
But often they're the ones give first aid.
So just remember your life is on display...
And God may be using you in a very special way.
Continue to do what you do so well...
And keep on doing it until they ring the final bell.
TK<
Categories:
peppy, adventure, hero,
Form:
Free verse
(sung – in a round pussy willow warble - to the tune of --
Oh Where Oh Where has my little dog gone)
With a flam boy hunt deft jais nais sais quois
firm lickey split tongue
and two bell yule yar pissant
little nappy ruck berry filled up paul ling sacks
viz peppy la pew doth not peter out,
and weathers clawed rained swipes
from hello kitty when faux pas gets swung
assisting climbing Jacob's ladder
(without pussy footing,
orb bing a putz like the president)
advancing quick to attain orgasmic rung
while heading into a slippery sloping sluice
(with prickly endeavor emitting cleat trill
smooth sailing along a ****
re coarse upon phallic shaped pung
crossing la brea tar pits (peppered
with lai bee ha tricky bridge over the River Kwai)
comprising ideal place de la resistance
to woo tang clan foreign nee Kate,
where two puckered rill lee fleshy ruffling rills
tinged pinkish lips overhung
a challenging escarpment,
where many a brave Tom, Harry or Dick get hung
up, particularly while searching for fabled “G” spot,
cuz portcullis hamstrung
even the most fiercely determined
Engleburt Hump per dink
necessitating the moist risky ski maneuver
as most studs know tubby gelandesprung
though booby prize wool worth any slimy setbacks,
where sticky gook gets flung
from angry cat,
who does not in the least find amusing,
and if further pricked with rage
not averse to hurl dung
gar (with) ease at snaky,
retractable hardened beastie boy twill clung
for dear life and limb (er, or twig and berries),
while applying crampons (bivouaced
within his maxipad), viz bung
gull low, essentially a ball peen size cove
hammered out by Dashiell Hammitt, where coiled,
kinked follicles strewn tightly inlet among
pheromone laced verboten fruit.
Categories:
peppy, age, appreciation, blessing, color,
Form:
Monsoon yet to come -------> Me
If it has come, I will die!!! --------> Audrey - 4th grader
Poor little smell goat ---------> Me
Author Note:
I found out her verse is really innocent, peppy and a bit clueless, but still look hilarious though, so I decide to post it. She becomes addicted in Haiku since I asked her to battle with me after our lesson time was over. :p
*After the Haiku finished:
Me: Why Monsoon could make you die? (wondering)
Audrey: Because I cannot swim. (with innocent face)
Me: I thought you were afraid to shower by the rain, just like goats (she pouts)
Categories:
peppy, children, funny, , 4th
Form:
Haiku
Mirror, Mirror on the wall
Who's reflection's above them all
Is it the prettiest girl in school
The nerds who think they rule
Jocks who have the scholarship
Class clowns who just screw up
Maybe the bully all mean and scary
The teachers who can't teach
Or the athletes all toned and fine
The cheerleaders all peppy and thin
Band geeks who crowd the hallways
Choir kids all strict and straight
Maybe the outcast with hidden talents
The artists who have the amazing work
The silent kids with a lot to say
Or the principals who run this muck
So mirror, mirror on the wall
Who's reflection's above them all
Categories:
peppy, growing up, school, society,
Form:
Free verse
Out of the mouse hole of my childhood,
made your first impression
on this sprouting brain,
enticed by the endless wonder
and entranced by the majestic splendor
of your colored two dimensional tales
that filled this void of a heart,
endings carved out
of the most intricate dreams;
splendid beauty never gazed once upon before.
just a friendly, peppy mouse
frolicking jubilantly,
ready to befriend this winsome psyche.
A Wonderful World indeed,
embedding wishes upon stars
before these fabled eyes,
dreaming of a happier place
painting unbreakable magic over toil,
longing to rid my existence
of the clouded nightmares,
far greater than Bald Mountain,
fantastic follies were never met with such welcome.
zip a dee dooh dahs
echo softly,
fostered child delivered a glossy, coated package.
A faint princess and her seven miniature men,
a puppet who ached to be a real boy,
fairy godmothers, Never Never land,
fantasmic fantasias,
one Walt's waltz of fancy
and a spirited little mermaid;
all spellbinding stories that leaped
in this impressionable spirit,
like a bouncing tiger pouncing
on a silly ole' bear;
giving weight to my blossoming imagination
and giving this adolescent emerging hope.
wishes upon stars
burn blazing,
giving this burdened soul whimsical optimism.
Back into the mouse hole
thirty five years young,
fireworks dazzle this now grown orphan
able to visit these fantasy destinations
and embed these heroic tales
on new impressionable egos,
never loosing the impeccable power
and growing in this vessel of flesh
like thorns over a guarded castle,
never escaping,
never fleeting,
burning brighter than mystical candlelight;
fiction and life joined in the humanity.
Be My Guest
chants gingerly,
all from the magic of one mouse.
Categories:
peppy, imagination, inspiration,
Form:
Seventeen cats are what we see.
Each one different to a degree,
Buddy, Mama, Peppy, and Le-Pew,
These are what, we named a few.
Seventeen cats, now what to do.
How to feed them, we had no clue,
They are Ferrell, wild and scared.
Scrapping, for food they appeared.
Six big, seven little, four just born,
Hungry, lost, looking so forlorn,
Feeding them is definitely a chore.
Now, oh so many trips to the store,
We have no choice, we feed them all.
Unfortunately, they are sick, we saw.
One walks away, into the woods, alone.
Never to be seen again, Natures condone.
More and more leave, at different times.
What a shame, they did no crimes.
Animals are our, precious humanities guild.
Without any compassion, humanity cannot build.
Categories:
peppy, animals, hope, life, pets,
Form:
Rhyme
with noticeable burgeoning bosom in the offing, ahoy
this baby faced blubbery bosom beastie boy
fast becoming a bra man,
and might hire himself out
as a male wet nurse for employ
ment, cuz when stark naked on shark tank,
I behold two bopping, brewing, busting
flap jacks in search of a frying pan,
which change in my physiognomy doth annoy
but, suddenly spurring,
this ordinarily calm, cool, and collected chap
positing even a more radical income idea
changing ma name to Chester, letting hooters
get suckled, though,
methinks they qualify as milk duds
tit two siamese twin guys christened ell and roy
offering accompanied with serving of cookies,
where adipose floppy blimps
rank popular as novel cheap toy
where art though washboard stomach,
where brestworks didst sprout
as if overnight a markedly increased
from flat “Joe” six pack chest did an about
face, with squishy, mushy, and doughy
sprang up without doubt
suddenly forcing a sexual identity crisis,
which freaky phenomenon makes me wanna pout
for weird, wicked woebegone
affects the psyche of this lviii aged lout
wondering what other transitions,
this fellow may indeed be on the look out
feigning to traverse (in me mind) badgering
rugged hormonal secretion terrain akin to a girl scout
on the prowl targeting a peeping tom,
whose foolery demands clout,
thus this imposed unfair punishment,
as some half assed irreversible decree
maybe hints of other surprises,
yet tubby revealed, which haint no fallacy
possibly being brewed up by a brood
of bruiting imps of the pervert with glee
some bot sized microscopic
anti bosom buddy hood stolen the genetic key
analogous to a pesky malware,
virus, trojan horse secrete lee
scheming to transform the sexual identity of me
perhaps waking up tomorrow minus
my little peppy ***** , and behold a pussy
should such an outcome prevail,
where media papparazzi
stake out this freak of nature re:
doubling efforts erecting fortifications
in a big old sassy tree,
especially if the press
(i.e. particularly meaning Wikileaks)
discovers ability to experience infinite orgasms
converting sexual predilection into electric utility.
Categories:
peppy, adventure, age, anxiety, creation,
Form:
Romanticism
Sugary white snow
Dips smothered in sweet sauces;
how it cools my steamy palate.
A cocoa flood in a butterscotch,
strawberry ocean,
is a playground for peppy,
non-perils and nuts;
my banana-boat oasis,
topped with life’s spices.
Cinnamon-ginger bursts
spark vivid daydreams
of childhood summers;
a tasty refuge for the palate.
The creamery of life, bestows great joy;
to savor all of its toppings is…miraculous!
Categories:
peppy, appreciation, happiness, imagery, joy,
Form:
Prose
LOVE IS A FLOWER
LOVE IS A FLOWER
THAT COMES WITH ALL POWER.
AND ALSO, IS IT A FLOWER THAT ALWAYS SHOWERS
US WITH NOTHING. ELSE . OR WITH NOTHING LESS, BUT WITH ITS SWEET, SWEET LOVE SENSATION THAT HELPS US TO TOWER UP AND ABOVE.
IN FACT, LOVE IS A FLOWER, THAT CONTINUES TO BLOOM OVER AND OVER; ALSO, THAT CONTINUES TO GROOM US IN ANYWAY AND IN EVERY ROOM WITHOUT MAKING US FEEL DOOM OR GLOOM. AS A.MATTER OF FACT, LOVE IS A FLOWER THAT ALWAYS COMES WITH GOOD NEWS
TO KEEP US HAPPY AND PEPPY AND JOLLY. AND. NOT FILLED. WITH FOLLY ; SO I WILL SAY THAT, LOVE IS A FLOWER, THAT WE SHOULD CONTINUE. TO CHERISH, NOURISH AND TO LET FLOURISH FOREVER WITH EVERYTHING WE GOT IN EVERY SPOT WHILE ITS HOT N NOT COLD. FOR IT IS A
VERY PRECIOUS SEED AND NOT A WEED, THAT WILL CONTINUE TO GROW, SPRING AND SPROUT AROUND US, AMONG US AND EVEN WITHIN US; SO LET US WATER IT AND GIVE IT SOME SUNLIGHT, TO KEEP IT GOING AND GOING, LET LIKE LOVE, GOD ALMIGHTY, INTENDED FOR IT TO BE, FROM THE VERY BEGINNING AND EVEN AT THE VERY END. FOR WE TOO, WHO ARE LOVE IS TO CONTINUE TO BE THE FLOWER OF LOVE WITH LOVE ALWAYS AND FOREVERMORE. POEM BY: (Crystal) Yehuwdiyth Y Yisrael
Categories:
peppy, angel, art, beautiful, cute
Form:
Rhyme
peppy porcelain puppy poops on the floor
wacky winged walrus whizzes on the door
enigmatic eonian elephant espies some bamboo
clever castrated cormorant shrieks yahoo
brassiere-busting bonobo barfs on the table
maniacal mystic monkey freaks on cable
sly sonambulent sloth bear slumbers in his cave
natty naughty nutty newt nests in a wave
dizzy ditzy doormouse dances with a broomstick
tawdry turgid tiger toys with his joystick
rugged recondite raccoon races up rut-marred roads
finicky febrile frog farts on frightened toads
this sonnet celebrates sassiness midst sundry incantations
~ surrenders to insanity and scoffs at punctuation
Categories:
peppy, adventure, nonsense, word play,
Form:
Alliteration
This tale of my greatest performance
many may think insufficient and small.
I learned a lesson: Don't give in to chance;
if you want something, give it your all!
This tale occurred way back in seventh grade,
when everything is either do or die.
I led cheers in sixth at another school,
and was one of those chosen to now try.
The jury was the high school Varsity.
The competition: lovely Jannance,
who won EVERYTHING so easily
we other three stood barely a chance.
I would act like a cheerleader should be:
peppy, happy, and be sure to yell loud.
Jannance went first and softly spoke the cheer
She wouldn't be heard above any crowd.
Well, I cheered like there were no tomorrows,
and, later that day, I learned I had won.
A lesson I've kept through smiles and sorrows:
We can leap hurdles in life's distance run!
May 12, 2022
The Greatest Performance of my Life Poetry Contest
by JCB Brul
A First Place
Categories:
peppy, 7th grade, anxiety, appreciation,
Form:
Rhyme
A cupola shin, prickly dick creed, hoary
testes tossed, master baiting ova all eel trades
crossed the fecund Rubicon and ejaculated
olly olly oxen yawping, in utero seminal raids
with phallic coup d’etat that buck came vasocongested spades
lit torch, where hello kitty Ernst lee screeched
amidst Grafenberg tit parades
bumping uglies during four nuke key eight ting game
where pinkish puckered two lips viz biological
Russian roulette played – birth control relegated as desuetude
hotly contested fee conned, caved heat seminal blitzkrieg overlaid
bilging swamped,
whence olds eye goat ruff fused exiting nightshade
shy ham mull in, and gave way to blast ta cyst
vis a visa viz biological fertilization qua two plump milkmaids
from inchoate seeds juiced beginning
to compress bladder re: lemonades
per diem mother via umbilical cord fueling gestation,
where sonogram shows faint genetic threnody skein
perchance manifold jades
nope – no fallacy when peppy thrust with sucks esse full feint
after thwarting objection against skin flute charmed thence invades
which begot conception from chromosomal traits stitched
via jean S, and her faction of trumpeting handmaids
whose fecund ditty began to feel swell as biological reproduction
showed no uterine back grades
as Tabula rasa In utero endured fusillades per what mother tubby ingested
sustenance promulgated noticeable womb dar full expansion fusillades
of nutriments ordaining future health of progeny
riddling endless questions within the gallimaufry
discombobulated mental, physical fatigue enfilades
and spiritual state of momma me ya in tha family way, whereby baby blueprint an outcome as nano sized atomic bombshells scoured decades
to determine the ontological makeup from when the fluid dynamics
spelling impregnation since time immemorial and into the future cascades
artfully concatenating eminent grise immaculate kindred laminated with waxy substance i.e. vernix, though smooth
doth serve analogous to microscopic switch-blades.
Categories:
peppy, adventure, age, anxiety, baby,
Form: