Best Throw A Fit Poems
Thirsty? I
wonder,
well I’ll
pop my
top. I’ll
hiss and
you’ll sigh
the fun just
won’t stop. I’d
like to teach the
world to sing, really
it’s no joke. For I’m the
pause that refreshes, yup
Coca-Cola is Coke! Good to
the last drop, you know it’s
true. The best combination
Is Red, White and You! Coke
adds to life wherever you are.
Just have a Coke and shazam,
you’re a star. I am as pure as
sunlight for all folks see; your
passport to refreshment; so
just what will it be. Let me
share a wee secret there’s
no need to be coy. Just
open a Coke, then sit
back and ENJOY. I’m
the favorite drink for all
sorts of folks. You just can’t
deny it, things go better with
Coke. And you can’t beat the
feeling; so don’t throw a fit.
When you’re feeling Thirsty,
Look to me, COKE IS IT!
A fox was a kit and a dog was once a puppy.
Don’t throw a fit, but a fish was never a guppy.
A horse was a colt. And a hen was always a chick.
How about banana split’s scoop, could we call it a lick?
A butterfly was a caterpillar,
A green spotted frog was a polliwog.
A child was a well-loved neonate,
Piglet was once the name of a giant hog.
Fawn instantly tells you something of his age,
Pony is not an indicator at all.
Lamb gives you a wonderful clue so sage.
Animals are delightful to me, big and small.
Your entering an elevator
in the skyscraping building of life.
As you step through the doors
your uncertain of which floor is right.
So you press all the buttons
hoping to rely on your sight.
Upon reaching the first floor
look who steps in, it's your wife.
Reaching the next floor,
your child comes running in.
You embrace them with happiness,
as the doors close once again
Then onto the next floor
with a bunch of smiles you all go.
Upon reaching the next floor
another child runs in "Oh no?"
Whats going on?
This wasn't part of the plan?
"Oh well I can take it,
that's right, I'm a strong man."
As you reach the next floor
your wife says this is it.
Exiting the elevator,
your kids start to throw a fit.
As you are about to exit
you see your wifes hand on the door.
Then she turns to you and says,
"Why don't you go up one more floor"
With the doors closing,
you see tears in your wifes eyes.
"Why would she be crying?
Was she telling me goodbye?"
Reaching the next floor,
you decide to see what this floor is all about.
This must be the right floor you sense,
in your mind with out a doubt.
As you turn to the elevator
to go back down one floor to your wife.
You see there is no down button,
for the elevator in this building of life
Dan Kearley:11-30-11
She was smart, beautiful and a perfect host
Yet these god given attributes don't explain how she became adored
By most,
With no hate mail in the post.
No, we have to look elsewhere for the reason,
That no matter what the season,
She could appeal to our reason.
Was it the way she talked,
Maybe it was the way she walked,
Or the way she looked at you when she smiled.
No, that was not the reason she was such a hit,
Because like us all she could still throw a fit
And upset a little bit
Could it have been how she treated everyone the same,
Or that she did not use voice or words to shame,
No, these are not reason enough to explain her fame.
To be fair, the reason only becomes clear,
When you have had a hug from her
One that sets your emotions astir
And gives your heart cause to stutter.
Even while knowing anything more is reserved for another.
Many is the time I have seen a hug go to the undeserving,
With genuine feeling,
When the rest of us would have resorted to behaviour less
Appealing.
To think that most of us have yet to grasp the fact,
That a simple hug freely given can change the way others act
And give us all a reason,
To look forward to another season.
did you notice
when you dig your nails, I cringe?
that strange look
is not a smile, but a wince
I did let you
when you wore that sexy fringe
but my back
has been complaining ever since
just because
I call you Baby when we love
doesn't mean
that you can bite my lower lip
and I know
you love to wear your leather glove
but my cheeks
now show the bruises of your grip
so when you
pull my hair, I'm apt to sneeze
and if you
pinch my thigh, I'll throw a fit -
(still ... )
I have one
tiny secret, if you please ...
I'm starting
to enjoy it ... (quite a bit).
~ 3rd Place ~ in the "Pick A Theme" Poetry Contest, Viv Wigley, Judge & Sponsor.
So what
Don't give me that look
It was just a cut
I am no crook
I feel better
To see my arm bleed
You yell, "Get Her"
But the cut is my feed
Why do you make me stop?
It doesn't hurt that bad
You are not some sort of cop
Cutting makes me glad
I don't feel anymore
But the sharp blade
I am no longer hurting in the core
All the feelings fade
I wear a jacket
To cover the scars
And I'll have to hack it
They are my permanent memoirs
So I'll just sit
And sharpen the knife
Don't throw a fit
This is my life
It's not like you know pain
I do, more then others
I live life in vain
And I won't get help from my mother
I don't want your help
Just leave me alone
So just hush your yelp
Don't give me that tone
This is my choice
Not yours to say
The cut is my voice
So just let me waste away...
This is for anyone, who has felt alone, you aren't, things can never be as bad as they seem, just keep
moving and never give up.
I've been pushed down, beat down, knocked out
Defeated.
I've been laughed at, picked at, talked about,
Mistreated.
I've been shoved, stared at,
Tested.
But guess what....
I made it.
I'm still here
Despite the tears
That fell.
Through all the years
Of hate from my peers,
Guess what yall...
I made it.
You can push me down and try to make me weak
But I'll stand back up
Because I'm strong.
You can talk about me
And I'll turn the other cheek
And simply walk away
Because I'm strong.
I've been to Hell,
Pushed down and fell
But I got back up
And I'm here.
You tried to knock me down,
With your "better than thou"
And your "half-breed, mixed thing,
Nobody wants you here"
But guess what....
I'm still here.
I'm not going anywhere
So if you don't want me here
Then I suggest you pack up
And leave.
I have rights just like you
And despite what you do
I'm still strong and I know
This is my home.
So if you want to throw a fit
Be my guest, I'll just sit
And wait for you to finish
And then laugh.
I won't pay you back
For the things that you did.
But I'll fight for what's mine
Til the end.
This goes out especially to all of my mixed people out there. As a biracial individual, I've
been through it all too. However, I don't want to limit this to just mixed people. This also
goes out to anyone who has overcome any situation. It takes a lot to look at those who are
kicking you and stand your ground instead of retaliating or running. Keep ya head up!
Voices voices telling me
Where to go
Who to see
What to say
And who to be
How to think
What to believe
What to buy
And what to spend
Where to start
And where to end
Who to hate
And to friend
When exactly to be straight
And when exactly, they say I should bend
.
Rules to live my life by
And how much I should get
When to let it go
Or when to throw a fit
Voices voices I declare
On the page
And on the air
Every how
And every where
.
Every say
And every said
Constant voices
In my head
Voices voices telling me
What to hope for
What to dream
Where to find
Blue Bell ice cream
When to whisper
When to scream
.
Voices voices telling you
Vote the red
Vote the blue
But don't think for yourself
No matter what you do
Voices to manipulate
Paint good men fools
Paint evil great
.
Those other voices whispering
Prodding me to do their thing
If I'm crazy let me be
But you be you
And I'll be me
And choose for myself
What I call free
.
Five hundred twenty-eight megahertz
Called us up out of the dirt
It's said I'll know the Shepherd's voice
And when He calls I'll have a choice
It's hard to hear Him thru the noise
Or cipher through religious ploys
But I choose to hear Him nonetheless
Tune out the chaos of all the rest
That one true Voice it brings me peace
And floods my soul with sweet relief
.
One last time I must tell
Keep your voices to yourself
Schizophrenic I may well be
But you just be you
And let me be me
(Commentary on a husband and wife relationship)
No one sees me, I’m in the back.
Cutting up the food for this evening’s snack.
Working my ass off every single day.
Then end up here, with not a dimes pay.
Every night’s the same, never any help.
Everybody wants to eat, at Johnny they yelp.
Is dinner ready yet, it’s getting close to eight.
My show is on at nine, don’t want to be late.
Some people may think it’s great to be chef.
I’ve heard enough of that, I’d rather be deaf.
But on and on I continue this confusing plight.
So everyone can have their evening’s delight.
One of these nights, I swear I’m going to quit.
And whoever wants to eat will probably throw a fit.
But when that day comes, everything will change.
I won’t be chef, I’ll have another name.
©2012 Guy Chaifetz
Hi I'm a human being
Most of you see that by 2016
But some ignorant people don't see
I am a human being
I was born a boy
But I feel like a girl
When I told my parents how I felt
It really took them for a whirl
They said I was going against the almighty God
I was born with a *****
And that I had to suck it up and deal with it
Because these sinful feelings will go away
And I'll be married with a beautiful woman
And have beautiful kids one day
And we'll disown you if you continue to feel like this
And I had to gather every bit of courage and strength to say
NO! I don't want this
Then then man I called my father put his hand in the fist
He gave me a black eye
Just like that I was unloved
And I was homeless
Hi I'm a human being
And I live in a society where they say
You get what you get and you don't throw a fit
Just deal with it!
They say don't embrace who you are
Or you will NEVER get far
You're an abomination
A failed abortion
You belong in a shallow grave
You're not one of us
But why can't they see
I AM A HUMAN BEING!
Hi I am a human being
And I have a brain and a heart and a pair of lungs
I have five fingers on each hand
And five toes on each foot
I function just like you and everyone else
So why am I put in hiding for being myself?
Hi I am here and this is me
And I AM
A human being
Side note: Hey guys. Just so I am clear I am NOT a transgender. I am a supporter of the LBGQT community because I believe EVERYONE is entitled to the same rights. Have a good day hope you liked the poem! :)
-Kye
Oh we ostriches, my fellow man.
They led us here and pointed saying this is sand.
Lest by chance a fool we hap to be.
The truth is plain for all to see.
Time to struggle and throw a fit.
Yuck phooey and out we spit.
Thats not sand its ________.
I am almost seventeen years old,
It is almost summer, and
My boyfriend and I are
Kissing with the
Lights off...
I tell him I don't want sex.
I wonder if this will be like
The time-
I am sixteen years old;
It's cold outside but
My boyfriend and I are
Kissing with the
Lights off-
He asks me if I want
To have sex...
When I say no, he tells me
It's okay- but his hands
Move to my body-
I still don't say yes,
But after a while,
He doesn't want to
See me as much anymore,
And I guess some other girl
Finally told him what
He wanted to hear
Because it turns out that
He's been cheating on me...
Then I am fifteen years old,
Being asked my age
And receiving disappointment
From the hands of the
Asker- always male-
Because my answer is
Three years less than
What he's asking for-
I am fourteen years old
And I stay home because
I have decided that
Boys are not worth
My time;
Not since-
I am thirteen years old,
And the same boy
That kissed me first time
Asks me to have sex.
We break up after
I say no.
I am twelve years old
And my first boyfriend
Kisses me for the first time
On my birthday...
He tells me that he will
Love me forever.
I am eleven years old
And sometimes I wish
I had a boyfriend.
I am ten years old-
Sometimes I wish
I was a grown-up.
I am nine years old-
I am eight years old-
I am seven years old
And playing with Barbies;
Barbie is on top of Ken
Because that's what
Grown-ups do
On television...
I am six years old-
I am five years old-
I throw a fit because
I am informed that
I will have to grow up
One day...
I am four years old
And Mommy and Daddy
No longer sleep in the
Same bed, now don't live
In the same house;
They explain to me and
The other kids that they
Are never getting back
Together, but it's not
Because they don't
Love us, they just
Have grown-up
Problems-
I am three years old-
When I have nightmares,
I crawl into bed
With Mommy and Daddy...
I don't know why they
Share a bed, but I guess
It's because they always
Want to be together-
I am two years old-
I am one year old-
I am a summer baby
Because my parents
Made me on Christmas,
And that's way more
Than a sixteen-year-old
Needs to hear...
I am almost seventeen years old,
It is almost summer, and
My boyfriend and I are
Kissing with the
Lights off...
I tell him I don't want sex.
He says okay...
It doesn't matter.
His hands move to
My face.
Jesus, no doubt, is my hero and friend,
Till the end.
Was he perfect? Don’t know? But if So?
When he told the Pharisees that they were of their father the devil?
Was he sinning? Was he hating? Such that others could mock and revel?
In their own superiority? And his motives inferior?
My God, I feel wearier, every day,
That I feel the weight of the maternal scolds, and belittling things that folks say.
“Get a job!” “Get off the street?!”
“You’re just a burden as you sit there and beg at my feet!”
“You’re not a victim, so leave the past in the past!”
“That’s not nice, my little child, you’d better straighten up fast!”
Jesus, no doubt, is my hero and friend.
Till the end.
Was he perfect? Don’t know? But even if not?
I strive to be like him, and love him a lot.
And just as my Savior, got angry, I too,
Feel the fury of bias and the rage of pointed fingers.
Like singers, singing a song of condescension,
It reminds me of days that I am censured to mention,
When my dad was denied his pension,
Because of the tension,
Of his skin tone and refusal,
To be sheepish and bamboozled,
Am I Jesus, or even much like him?
Not really, I must admit?
But still he’s my Savior, even when I throw a fit.
And thank God he sees me truly,
Even when others scoff and chide.
And thank God he gives me courage,
For I refuse to run and hide.
For those like me, who started from the beginning at the bottom,
Our culture tends to view us as oh just a wee bit rotten,
And at the slightest hint of fury, seek to hunt us like Ben Laden.
So when I lose it? Yes I choose it?
This consequential crucifixion,
For I although others tend to want me silenced, prostrate in submission,
I have a savior, King, and best friend too, who never fails to listen.
You can look the other way, say you did not see a thing
Do not want to get involved, let the other guy do it
Beside you have to many other things to do
You want to hear the music, but you don't want to sing
If backed into a corner, you throw a fit
That is what some people will do
Don't take a stand, but go with the flow
Power in numbers, but the majority is not always right
Some day if you lose your right to vote
That would be a sad thing for anyone to know
You would lose the war without a fight
And complain that you missed the boat
You say you want relaxation and distractions
Besides this is all to complicated to understand
It works in their plan, they will give it to you
Like taking candy from a baby, could care less of your reactions
Like a heavy fog it will cover this land
And this is what they are planning to do
If your head is in the cloud, you will never see a thing
If you turn a deaf ear, you will hear less
Never get called on, if you do not raise your hand
They want you totally numb, never feel a thing
And we wonder why we are in such a mess
Some live in La La Land, with their head in the sand
Some say I’m rather rustic
To carry round a musket
I Fire it at Blue ****
Police ask me for a permit
My paper work's legit
But they still say I’m unfit
I say that’s complete bulls**t
They throw me on the pavement
So I pretend to throw a fit
And twist a little bit
I escape and run for it
And make it with my musket