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Best Poems Written by John-Ovan.P. Hull

Below are the all-time best John-Ovan.P. Hull poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | John-Ovan.P. Hull Poem

She Wore Pineapple Rings For Glasses

She wore pineapple rings for glasses
and walked like jelly dances
I didn't rate her chances
She used to wee standing up
she cooked lemon a'la duck
won the lottery, grumbled what bad luck
like a surgical nip, without the tuck.
She'd blow cream cheese when she sneezed
and eat ram dressed as lamb
for sunday roast she ate toast
with mushrooms for toes, little buttons in a row
smoked salmon for a nose, smelt fishy when she blows
She wore a chicken-winger-as-a-ring-around-'er-finger
that became a stinker, boy did it linger
thanks to x-factor, she wants to be a popsinger
but she's a bloody minger.
She cares not much for clothes
revealing skin and bones
much to establishments moans
and 'righteous' idiots groans
little boys stand and stare
french fries for pubic hair
thats not meant to be there
she makes a mess everywhere.
She's got a chopping board, where a leg should be
might be why she walks all wibbly wobbly
wears a saucepan for a boot, metallic clomping of her foot
for make up she uses butter
cheeks glow as eyelids flutter
she's well dressed like a salad
marinated in love ballads
a lemon glazed mallard.
She's like dessert before a starter
the rip off and the barter
she drips morsels like a leper
smells like fresh ground pepper
her blood doesn't flow much like batter
pure cholesterol but gets no fatter
she looks like beef but tastes of bacon
bleach white teeth with an accent like jamaican.
She makes a meal of everything
wearing rabbits paws and prawns for bling.
holding her hand feels like wriggling jellied eels
whiskers longer than the oldest seals.
She wore a banana as a brooch
didn't wash more like poach
she really is hamfisted, skin like crackling all blistered.
She's not a 5 a day, unless it's take away.
She's drunk too much grain, pickle damaged brain
downright bonkers on the left side of sane.
She slept alone upon a bed of stilton
in a suite at the glitzy ritzy hilton
upset, the tears she did cry
weeping raspberry sorbet from her eye
from the orbs within her pocket
hairstyled by electric socket
a crazy look, but I wouldn't knock it
for she lives her life free as the wind,
though she smells like brie that should be binned
or tuna from a damaged tin.
She's a genetically modified vegetable at a completely organic table
She cuts clothes off only to keep the label.
In this crazy ole world, shes still a backwards girl
enough to make even hardened stomachs hurl
Pretty tasty date, give her a whirl?
©John-Ovan.p.hull

Details | John-Ovan.P. Hull Poem

Suffer Fools Madly

With a sleep-living shuffle, they plod along
Apathetic senses, that don't notice it's wrong
Automatic living, with the brain turned off
My ideals of freedom, their conditioned to scoff!
The sheople who live, in societies herd
Who think flying freely only applies to a bird
Corrupted, sealed minds that believe every word
Unfortunately their truth is...at best my turd!
You may think your free, I tell you THATS a dream
The propoganda machine, is the only intel you've seen
Your brains so washed I think it must be clean
Robbed by the government, robbed by the queen!
They must have such giant sheep, for this much wool
Though the deception begins whilst still at school
Too many righteous idiots, believe false word as rule
 But it's me who has to madly suffer these fools!!
©John-Ovan.P.Hull

Details | John-Ovan.P. Hull Poem

Red Hot Smriti

Through my mind she runs, forever tireless,
this amazingly beautiful Indian Princess,
her words to my eyes, such a temptress,
the way she portrays the world and it's tenderness,
whatever she does never fails to impress!
She's in my mind and she sees my heart,
distance is the shame between us, we're half the world apart.
The pictures she paints of the world she sees,
her beauty and smile, i'm weak at the knees.
The emotions that spring from her words of rhyme,
keep me enthralled time after time.
The joy she emits from her timeless soul,
the light that she spreads could kill a black hole.
In a beauty contest they'd all say 'She beat me'
and  point cattily at the gorgeous Smriti? Xx


P.s spelling your name right makes it so much harder to rhyme with!!

©John-Ovan.P.Hull

Details | John-Ovan.P. Hull Poem

Indian Summer, Here I Come -Fullstop-

Once glorious, but now rusting buildings, lined every dusty road.
Somehow everywhere clung the smell of cow dung.
My heavy bag, a giant rucksack,
Most of it I shipped right back.
I thought there wasn't much glitz or glamour,
And fought rough in a bit of a clamour.
Tuk-Tuk's going tut-tut, the hawkers piercing eyes and traders raise the price.
Welcome to Mumbai!

First, I met Tony, who promised to show me,
All the sights and sounds and where stuff might be found.
He exerted Rupees and expertly duped me,
But for a guided tour, I'd have expected to pay more.
My first "queue" for train tickets,
I was newly in the thick of it,
Could they organise a straight line?
They're walking on the train line!!
The infusion of livestock into the traffic,
My confusion and shock, all of this madness,
Each to their own, but, who the hell planned this?

But first impressions are often misleading,
Best get some rest, a wash and a feeding.
An open mind, that beliefs, often null and blind,
Just might find, can lead toward the fuller life.
From the mountains to the Thar desert,
Everywhere, I found was rather pleasant,
Lived like a king, paid like a peasant.
The colours everywhere and flowers worn in hair,
The spices on display and price you have to pay,
Surprises me to say, she'd grown upon me more each day.
And I had five months to travel through,
  I bid a sad goodbye India, I'll see you real soon.

On scented breeze, she'd whispered to me,
As her saffron voice caressed my ears,
She hinted with ease and flickered desire,
While cinnamon curls lingered from her hair,
     and nutmeg sweetened my dreams.

Details | John-Ovan.P. Hull Poem

Lies Are Sold and Bought

That fateful, tragic day of 9/11
was a busy one, for Jannah and Heaven.
The day the seed of war was sown
dictatorships the US wanted overthrown
no wonder the worlds overdraft has grown!

The truth though was in disguise
as fox news spread their lies
despicable people, I truly despise
who pull the wool over the Sheople's eyes.

The plane that hit the pentagon
so quickly was that wreckage gone.
now so many lives to destroy
firing missiles like some toy.

So much coincedence, purely circumstance
the armies are all set now to advance
as bush and the Devil jigged a joyous dance.
I loathe to say it so blunt,
but I think Bush is a ....!

For he has turned the world against each other
and caused the death of many a brother.
It makes my blood truly boil
we started a war for cheap bloody oil.

So when the world ends with a small bang
Bush and his corrupt cronies, can go to Jahannam!!

Please don't believe all you're told,
for the truth you know, are the lies your sold!

©John-Ovan.P.Hull

Details | John-Ovan.P. Hull Poem

Molten Core

You capture me tightly, like a trance,
enrapturing me, from very first glance,
excuse me, may I have this dance?
And who knows? Maybe a chance,
it could all end in sweet romance?!

Holding your hand, on strolls through the coast,
one pleasure to treasure, I'd enjoy the most,
Life dreams into you, as if by remote,
whilst I've got these words stuck in my throat,
screaming for you, higher than thermals, these babies float.

You centre me towards my zone,
to capture each word, make it my own,
farming seeds of thought re-grown,

Our intimate workings, each are knowing,
ensures raging rivers of lust are flowing,
it's either cumming or it's going,
all the same, ecstacies throeing,
you can't beat the embrace, at the climax of the race with silly smiles upon our face!

The feel of your skin, to inhale your aroma deep within,
like an oasis in my deserted life so far,
freeing emotions like open a jar,
you make me feel like a shooting star,
come to me, wherever you are,
fragments of reality, we each hold a piece,
come to me my darling, lets share a kiss! XX
©John-Ovan.P.Hull

Details | John-Ovan.P. Hull Poem

Fiery Feelings

To smile again
After so much pain.
Long lost yearning
Fire still warmly burning
I'd rather a smile more than a kind word
Emotions speak volumes that cannot be heard.

Life drifts by
As time slips by
Caught in life's tidal flows
Gently ebbing time seems slow
The calendars years are subtly  weathered
My hopes and fears are muddled and tethered.

My grip went stray
You slipped away
And drifted from my life
That hurts worse than a knife
But life likes cycles and a second chance
As the monsoon returns so does romance.

Details | John-Ovan.P. Hull Poem

Just Me, Me, Me and My Multiple Personality

I have the ability to be really cool
An' a capability to be evil cruel
I play it straight while acting the fool.

I am a thief, and a saint
I'll weep when I take
Try and keep some restraint.

I'm never the same man, two days just a chance
I change my name more than you change your pants
If life is a game, who now must dance.

Life is what you want it to be
It helps to have multiple personality
Someone to change into, when I'm sick of being me
Don't wanna be chained to, just being Me.

Details | John-Ovan.P. Hull Poem

Journey of a Raindrop

You think your life's so rushed?
You've never been literally flushed,
or frozen and really crushed.
I've been through all a thousand times,
maybe more if you read between the lines.
My names 'Rob' and i'm a raindrop,
how my journey never seems to stop,
for each time I am let go,
as a hailstone or flake of snow,
I seem to know which way to go,
how to find a rivers flow.
From mountaintops up so high,
or sometimes a desert oh so dry,
even occasionally that tear from your eye,
the lives I lead as time goes by.
So much of what you see, depends on me,
and friends of mine, who taste so fine.
Rumours surrounding us are rife,
some say we even birthed life,
binding organic cells like husband and wife,
splicing genes with the creaters knife.
We are as alien as they come,
formed so far away from your sun,
oh the many ways we now run,
being in cocktails is such fun.
A typical journey for me would be,
generally one that begins at sea,
with the warmth and humidity,
thats what lifts and frees me,
and I drift wherever the wind breezes me,
across golden sands to exotic lands,
swelling clouds like poorly glands,
as our molecules hustle, you may hear thunder rustle,
a little flex of muscle, it's a friendly bustle.
But it's hard work to fly so high,
the pull from the ground really does try,
and beg me to drop, it's ever so dry,
like heavenly tears, please, please cry.
So please don't loudly grumble,
if you hear a cloudly rumble,
as raindrops start to tumble,
how would you like to fly 3months non-stop,
when you're so tired, could almost flop,
to hear everyone below say "please don't drop"
It's exhausting work, just being water,
my wifes often dropped, no-ones ever caught'er
But we fall to earth, a new re-birth,
landing upon a hill so tall,
roll down gently, listen for rivers call,
a lucky streak, if you find a creek
waters motorway, no path to seek,
carving through canyons so deep,
diving over waterfalls so steep,
or meandering with a silent creep.
Where the forks do meet we grow, 
into a rushing river with busy flow.
You can watch us for hours, until beckoned,
but it changes every Neutro-Second,
have that thought you ever reckoned?
Maybe we all look the same to you?
Water's water, through and through,
but that rivers' constantly anew,
past you I quickly flew,
as we head back to the sea,
awaiting our next epic journey,
whenever the sky turns cloudy,
the weather seems to be gettin' rowdy,
after the days turned wet and gloomy,
can you see the rainbow through me?
Take a second to think of me,
all the beautiful sights I see,
it's not so bad when it's rainy!

Details | John-Ovan.P. Hull Poem

My Dear Little Sister Tacey and All the Ways You Amaze Me

She's pretty tough for one so small
When things get rough she stands so tall
With a bundle of Love so beautiful

Good things come in small packages
God not her farts they smell like cabbages
Or rotten little darts of poison radishes

For a life so short what she's seen
Been through lows same as me
Even grown her own branch on the family tree

As her peace gets disturbed by a little wailer
The beast who deserves her halo
My sweet little niece I Love You Laila

If you knock her down she'll buckboard bounce
In her way back up she may just pounce
If you fill her heart with Love she'll never renounce

Of all the siblings near or far
You little sister are also a star
Just don't let her near the cookie jar

She's the only little sister I have got
I'm really sorry i'd hit her and often taunt
She's the only little sister I would want!

I don't think I tell you enough Tacey
Though your heads full of "stuff" an your totally crazy
I'm so glad to be bruv, you really amaze me. Xx