Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I look down out of my second story window to see the jam as far as I could spy. It looked like a lake to me, oh what a spot this is turning out to be. The smell of strawberries in the air was the only wonderful thing. For earlier that day I had seen my friend eaten by the strawberry fiend. It reminds me of the blob in a movie I've seen. To my surprise party of little rubber people in a little Glass boat we're coming to save me. Wrapped in trash bags all over their body and up to their heads, they were all sitting in a very large fish tank moving full speed ahead. One yells, we're here to save you my very good friend. Put these bags on and jump right in. As I jumped right in the tank spring a leak. If we don't get out, we're going to feed the **** thing. One of the little rubber people described it me. I helped the Little rubber people back into my window and declared. I guess we wait for rescue my friends. As the building begin to quick and Shake. And that's how a strawberry scented death got me and my friends as a dinner date.
Michael Robert Triska 2024 copy right
Steven Forrester Jun 2023
Basking in strawberry moonlight
I look upon selene
And see your face
The air catches in my throat
I'm captivated by your grace
The thought of you
Infectious
It lingers in my mouth
Your taste
Terrifying and terrific
Terribly tantric
Tumultuous an tempting
This tempest
A torrent tearing down my walls
A Tsunami
Leaving bare
my soul
Is this true
Is it you
My goal...
For Ari
Coleen Mzarriz May 2022
I could never finish writing off your name, with your strawberry scent vibrating towards mine and your hooded eyes that covers the wrinkles and your cheek dampens when you crook a smile, I could never stop writing you.

Maybe I was just drawing a thin line with heaven and a tightrope with my eyes close and hell bent towards the unending loophole of my forsaking fantasies, I guess I might stay here. There was something about you that I cannot forsake nor repaint with foreign colors and another texture — you were as a majestic being in my lucid dream.

That even though I cannot recount my fingers one or two or five or ten, I can picture the deepening hole of your dimples whenever you give the world another unbreathable cheeky beam and I sulk here, waiting for another neon glow of that majestic world in my dreamlike prophetic future.

Something told me it was you. As I bear witness another beauty in the realm of my alternative home, maybe then, peering at the sky while I was on a tightrope is worth every penny of sleep and drowsiness gulping another 90's wine.
Wrote this waaay too long ago. I just turned 21 this month. Still not fine, doing a little better, improving and growing.

Hoping for a better future. Hugs to everyone **
I S A A C Apr 2022
lavender, lilac, and strawberry
I taste energy like yours rarely
make my cheeks redder than cherry
you have an essence, it is a blessing
you taught me lessons, such a blessing
I thought I was unlovable you showed me the contrary
make me sing like the giddy canary
was too used to solitary
read my feelings like a library
Carlo C Gomez Mar 2022
a taste of frozen snow
how about pistachio
chocolate fountain
or vanilla chateau
could be strawberry fields
maybe mixed
with honey and wine
or collected from
the lower slopes of
confection perfection

call it what you like:
Dondurma,
Kulfi,
Cornets with Cream,
perhaps like Agnes,
Queen of Ices,
wading deeper
into blissful sugar,
waffling
back and forth
in endless
flavored dreams
I wonder how many calories are in this poem?
life tasted sweet
under your eyelashes,
******* strawberry-flavored flowers,
and spitting out the seeds
which would eventually grow into
humble spite.

when the ground was bare,
and the atmosphere was intact,
my eyes never left your fingers
and my sharp friend never forgot
the taste of my strawberry wrists.

addicting
promising
bittersweet in the sense
that you tend to forget
that my fate is my gold
hence,
it is time to work.
it is time to get old.

we are never going back under this tree again.
(aren't we?)

for it is the calling.
it is time to speak with the tongue of love -
for myself.
no longer pink
from the strawberries.

i want to look loud,
i want the flavor of the world beyond.
i want to **** the clouds until they
gravitate back to earth.
i want to be satisfied,
not full.
full circle. life has changed drastically for the past years. i'm excited to get back to writing. i hope you're all doing well **
Danielle Oct 2021
Little things could turn the world
like knowing your favorite coffee and on how I could easily notice you on the way you laugh.
I know how strawberry ice cream tastes different as it looks better on your lips.

One time, we went on a secret room, I would love to be with you in that place because you are the first one I took there. Inside, there's a lot of mirror reflecting each side of your delicate and beautiful skin.

As I watched you glimmer, you are so amazed of how much I keep that place just for you.

And little did I know that you are looking from afar though, I only fix my eyes on you.

And there's an another cup of strawberry ice cream, one spoon for two.

But not with me.
Do you get deja vu
Brumous Jun 2021
the scent of strawberry lingers,
but I didn't like how smoke
crowds your room
Next page