Cooties Poems | Examples

No Butts About It

I’m surely not the only one
Who finds this hard to use
And whether it is needed
Will produce conflicting views.

Yet when in a public restroom
I will often face defeat
When I try to use the paper cover
For the toilet seat.

As I peel one from the package,
In the process it might tear,
But it still could serve its purpose
If it only ended there…

Though the bigger problem happens,
Even if there is no rush,
When I place it on the seat and then
The toilet starts to flush.

Of course, the cover’s sucked away
So do I start again?
I do not because what I was taught,
Since I remember when

Is to simply crouch above the seat -
No contact should be made. 
Therefore even with no cover,
No one’s cooties can invade.

boys

so icky
so stinky
so gross
that’s what we were told growing up
i didn’t talk to them because
boys had cooties

he hits me because he likes me
he flirts by making fun of me
he talks about me to his friends
and says i’m easy
is this what love is like?
i’ve never had anything real

he pays for me
he opens doors for me
he worships me
why is this different
from what we were taught
these aren’t the standards i’ve been used to
is this love?

Since I Was Eight

A lot has changed since I was eight.
My brain gained a bit of weight,
Dance went from a hobby to a skill.
Grandma went from writing notes to her will.
Losing stuff went from teeth to pounds.
My dog went from a puppy to a hound.
Boys went from cooties to cuties.
Money went from tokens to toonies.
Height went from short to tall.
Insecurities went from one wall to a whole hall.
Yet the part that changed the most,
Wasn’t my hight my looks or even my growth.
It’s the way I care.
The way people stare.
The way people talk.
The way people walk.
People went from smiles to death glares.
From jokes to dares.
From runners to heels.
Yet I still don’t get the appeal.

Cooties

If only, if only I could catch the cooties from you, please, give me the cooties, I heard, they can cure the blues, sometimes
Give them to me, so they'll be mines
The cooties aren't so scary, when they're coming from you
The cooties are the only thing that can stop me from feeling blue??

 


I don't get to see you, anymore
This is hard for me
You impressed me to my very core
If you used a breathalyzer wand, to see
If I were drunk, it wouldn't be from wine
But from the way I feel, thinking of you
Wishing that you were mine
Or that I could simply lock lips with yours
Then, maybe I would no longer feel so blue
For now, though, in my imagination- we're walking hand in hand, on many shores
Through flowers, past ponds and valleys, too
Past the limits of infatuation

If only, if only I could catch the cooties from you, please, give me the cooties, I heard, they can cure the blues, sometimes
Give them to me, so they'll be mines
The cooties aren't so scary, when they're coming from you
The cooties are the only thing that can stop me from feeling blue??

When Doves Cry

Cooling off in falling months, approaching dusk.
Coordinated chill and quilting of snow, brusque.
Cooking lots of soup, beating down dough,
as the wind whoops on a weeping willow.

The sky blue sheets aired out on the clothesline.
Coordinates of beauty in her decline.
Cooties shots on the medical menu…sigh.
Cooperation of dirge, the woe-filled cry.

Co-occurence of life and absence of fog
on the handheld mirror, down by the bog.
Cookout of fried boughs and its vestment.
This particular parish was not a good investment.

Autumn’s turning down the soil - leaves
storm in turmoil, slowing down what it believes.
The coos of despair…her ring rolls off finger.
Her dreams of love no longer linger.

Cool when Autumn clashes with Winter
and the clash of letters are placed by printer.
The clouds are snow white, they get the scoop.
Doves cry and hover - eyes droop.

The Cooties Game

Come here kids and listen
We're gonna play a game
It's just like tag, a little
And Covid is it's name

The whole wide world is playing
It's a simple game to play
Everyone has cooties
The idea is stay away

The game has no time limit
It may last a month or more
You can win it if you listen
That's what this poem is for

You don't want the cooties
You don't want to be it
The idea is keep your distance
This game may take a bit

One way to block the cooties
From getting in your space
Wash your hands like we do
And do not touch your face

You don't know who has cooties
Who is it and who is not
So, stay close like we tell you
And then you won't get caught

This game is really something
I'll tell you when it's done
Just follow my instructions
And we'll keep on having fun

So, one, two, three...we're playing
Don't let the cooties in your space
Wash your hands like I do
And do not touch your face
how to explain the Covid-19 to little kids without scaring them

We All Got Out the Chalk

I was shaking and swaying to music of the 60’s,
My favorite stuff, 
When my grandchildren joined in,
And this is no guff.
I whirled them and twirled them,

We stomped on the floor,
We got out pots,
We got out pans.
We threw them around the kitchen,
Our dance was grand.

Then we ran out to the yard, as we were still on fire.
We danced in the yard, shaking our booties.
We stomped and we chanted, and we rubbed the trees with our cooties.
We were wearing scarves now, 
Our treasure trove.

We threw them in the air, 
And we laughed, and skipped.
And we watched them flutter, like the sail of a ship.
We preened, and we twirled, and we whirled and we pranced.
The two-year-old got giddily excited, in her underpants.


Then we got out the chalk, and we painted the garage.
All of it, not just the doors.
And the driveway, 
And the porch, 
And the steps,
And the floors.

Grandpa came out and his face really got red
And we laughed and we danced, and we teased him so bad.
He ran back inside, and covered his head.
It was a fine day,
For the grandchildren and me.
It always is, when they get on this kick.
And no one can stop us, not one little bit!

'she'Et

When I was a boy I repudiated you
Your cooties chased you out the crew
The innocence across the playground blew

I ran and ran and ran

Later I was taught how to communicate to you
Your dress had black borders and dotted lines I retained the view
I remember in that moment my curiosity for you grew

Soon we, little men, inscribed our names onto manhood
Its hard surface wore my pencil dull and no good
At bonfire we threw in our graphite and wood

I watched it burn and burn and burn

By adolescence I turned despondently shy 
On a shadow of descry over your moniker
My drab feelings moored, to an anchor,
Swayed back and forth out in the middle of the water

As a young man I sat and listened to her voice
On that day my pencil lead and made a choice
It walked out the boat and drew uniformed waves 
colliding under a mountainous view to rejoice

And I wrote and wrote and wrote

The Poet's Five O'Clock Shadow

A poet once went without shaving
About his beard no one was raving
They all screamed, “Fecal stuff,
from Cooties in the buff!”
Went after him with razors waving!

Birthday Number 15, April 9th

5- My first year of kindergarten,
 Daddy sends me off to the world 
(Or so he says, but I know I'll be coming home at three)

10- I'm growing older and I got a little bit taller too. 
 I think boys have cooties
(Well, don't they?)

15- I'm not quite there yet (but I'm pretty close)
Birthdays are stupid now, because I'm feeling old.
My brother is only nine, and now I'm nearly fifteen.

25th Birthday

A quarter “C” has past
Since you opened your eyes to see
The cooties and spiders
That will haunt you throughout your eternity.
 
Then there was your smile,
A smile like no other,
A smile that continues to give great joy,
To both me and your mother.

Spicy Bell Pepper

Stop watching me with those derisory eyes 
sweet like bear claw
spicy like a bell pepper
give me back my barette
I'm not letting my hair down'
from cooties to copacetic my biggest disease
jus like when u was  freshman
lost your retainer cried all day
give me back my fanny pack
you kept it all those years
crazy grifter lost on the freeway
looking for route 66 in a gay way
why you back jerk off?
scads of luv but to late
here's a sawbuck go call someone who cares!

The Appeal of a Moose

Thinking of girls in my life back then
Searching for beauty was no use
I'm sure one was from a horror movie
She possessed the appeal of a moose!

Promised I wouldn't mention names
But her first initial is Thelma
Had a huge wart on the tip of her nose
Gorgeous? What can I tell ya!

Let me explain 'bout that lovely schnoz
It was as long as from here to Tuesday
Protruding teeth, was missing a few
Just a little off white... good news eh!

Her eyes were kinda distracting too
Each looked in a different direction
Hair was stringy and different lengths
Blue lipstick and a very bad complexion!

So all in all, I guess you might say
Wasn't one of your ravishing beauties
Body odour like that of a koala
But as far as I could tell, no cooties!

Had some redeeming features though
She possessed a heart of pure gold
Would donate the shirt right off her back
Problem was it was smelly and old!

Sure could pick 'em way back when
Her daddy was worth a few million
So to me, Thelma was a raving beauty
Now my wife and I'm worth gazillions!


© Jack Ellison 2015

Flipping the Wig

The girl had her groove on she 
laughed a lot and was hip and 
not too heavy going. At seventeen 
I needed an old lady to go to the
prom with. Not wanting to wipe 
out on my first try I caught the 
groove, Taking my time, this chick
was bitchen from top to bottom,
But I had a gnarly set of nerves 
because I woke up with a zit on my
nose, what a bummer. I didn't want 
her to think I had cooties so I waited. 
The time came to ask her. Well, after 
all this feeling like a dork, she said 
yes she would love to go. 
Wow what a gas, I flipped out.

Crayons

I’m not certain when it happens.
When the high fidelity stereo of a youthful past
Drowns in the monophonic static of tomorrow’s responsibilities.
When cowboys and indians or cops and robbers
Become traffic tickets and the politically correct, Native Americans.
When the king of the castle ends up under a mortgage and tax escrow
Owned by bank and government alike for standing strong on a playground boulder.
When the real fear of catching cooties from the girls at recess
Gives way to the real fear of catching cooties from girls in your bedroom.
But it invariably does. 
You wake up and notice something interesting about mirrors.
Your reflection isn’t there anymore.
That person doesn’t know that fruity pebbles taste better than bran flakes.
That pens and pencils are made for drawing, not writing checks.
And crayons are better still. 
That person has forgotten that mornings are to be celebrated 
And bedtime is another way of spelling tantrum time.
That person is a grown up.
And certainly, that person isn’t you.
Are they?

04/24/15

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