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onlylovepoetry Jul 2020
awhile, a time ago, wrote:

“the oven's writing warmth,
still faint discernible,
giving off the aroma of heated ink,
upon a skin-smooth page..”

                         <>

my words returned by the commentator-in-chief:

“Tells me why the best part of my
time with her was spent in the kitchen.”^

lay fallow my emotive, a response due catalogued
but unfulfilled till today, oh hell it is a moody way,
partly cloudy day, raining in between sunny  brief teasing episodic.

perfect.

for the mixed mood, a melancholia of innocence with a dash of a salty, self-reflective hazing, choosing careful words when I write without clear direction, you want to rush outside, get set up, and then surrender-retreat inside to the comfort zone, the hearty, all-involving,  kitchen where the ink is always kept on warm on the glass topped oven, and the dripping-coffee-machine never shuts down, at-the-ready stale crackers in the cupboard, and all these writing utensils at the two-handy, when she comes in, and with a quick surveying, kicks me out, to make us accoladed good food, with these words:

my darling only love poetry man, render unto me, this captaincy,
my fiefdom now, and herein are kept my ingredients and tools, whe my words are secreted.”  You mistake the warmth here as a necessary condition for thy composition, but not so, the warmth required travels in the hearth of the body, get thee to the nook, to the sunroom, or our bed where I catch you prepositioning conjunctions to join weeping verbs, adjective so riotous their beauteous is stolen by God i’m the fall, thoughts worthy of becoming verses and stanzas, the exclaim the wonders of thy perspective, thy goodly nature, thy odor of freshly stirred vocabulary, an alluring stew in a new ***, surrender this cooking place to me in order that you might chef a new creation, half mine, half yours, all ours.

^pradip
Poetic T Feb 2020
Lets microwave our kernel
                           of thought.

Seeing what  becomes of it,
       when the moments have
counted down.

And the ping of freshly popped
                 ideas become a tasty metaphor.
Poetic T Jan 2018
My attention is hammered into being,
           as the anvil of my motions
                      are moulded into  formation.

Heated in the furnace of
                                       my subconscious.
What once was just white heated noise
       now moulds with each hit of reasoning..

Our thoughts are always being sculpted
               in the milliseconds of there creation.
Some aren't as we wished,
             misshapen syllables are reheated
to verses later hammered into cognitive thoughts.

*"Our perceiving is moulded with wielded
                    blows that form our every sentence,
Asonna Aug 2017
It's been a while, but you're recognized
from when we went to school.
You and I have hooked up before,
nothing of ****** relations.
But when you popped up on my screen,
I'll admit there was hesitation.

You push and push then suddenly pull,
don't know if it's a game.
but against my better judgement,
I swiped right anyway.
there you instantly shot a message,
and picked up where we left off.

Before i know it I'm in a car,
the windows are all fogged up.
Hands to my *******, I'm in your lap,
your lips leeched to my neck.
mind screams "No, what are you doing?"
But my body says "Pleasure me."

If that night wasn't enough,
we met the very next day.
Went back to his and like before
He had his way with me.
Guilty conscience plays repeat,
to this day I probably shouldn't have done it.

He pushed for plans where I didn't have time,
It was either work or moving.
Eventually told me he was done playing around,
but i thought *** was all he wanted.
Told him I was moving 6 hours away
That I couldn't hold that type of connection.

I haven't heard from him
nor have I seen him since
But now that I'm 6 hours away
I've lost all form's of connection
In a new town, filled with new people
It was crazy, but I felt lonely.
Jellyfish Nov 2016
I'm holding onto you and shutting my eyes, as the song keeps playing, my heart continues to melt. The sounds from the squirrels jumping on leaves are all drowned out... I feel your hands moving, I smile and breathe you in, our faces come close again, your nose touches mine and I know I don't want this time together to end. *It was cold outside but you left me feeling heated.
The squirrel was laughing at us.
xmxrgxncy Oct 2016
But you said, she whispered, her voice laced with poison and smoke. *You said dragons don't exist.
I never said they didn't exist, I breathed, the snow melting beneath our twitching fingers. **I said I'd never seen one. Until now.
George Krokos Jun 2016
It's known that everything expands when it is heated,
so our discontent grows when we're not fairly treated.
-------------------------------------
From "Simple Observations" ongoing writings since the early '90's.
NalaniRose Mar 2016
all i wanted was a simple apology
if you loved me it wouldn't be that hard
but i guess you didn't
they told me not to fall to hard but i never listen for i thought was different.
but you were exactly what they said and to my existence your malignant
but yet somehow you still are a stimulant
you set gasoline to my fire and it heats up resembling our heated arguments that end up with one of us in pain
for you were never the solution you were never my rain to exhaust my flames
your a poison and it's addictive yet my soul still survives
it hurts so much but my heart yearns for you it chimes
chimes in a irregular beat; wishing for you to care but its like i'm never there
i always end up suffering the ramifications
your my main cause of my dreary tribulations
yet, i stay
yet, i still care
yet, i'm still blamed
yet, i cant stop loving you
Where did i ever go so wrong?
RW Dennen Sep 2014
Bursting pinkish white blossoms
fall in spring patterns
The air is filled with connecting one being to another
Each being is enthrolled with the heated day
Birds chirp on nature's timetable
in genetic rhythm
The new warmth envelops your body
like a true lover
Your body relaxes in each step that is taken
Spring skies vanquish the dismal grays
revealing a sunny and blue canopy with white billowing clouds
Still and at ease are your and my thoughts
as remorseful thinking is now of cheer
And the relaxed happy chattering
of outside people break the harsh-winter silence
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