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Ann M Johnson Aug 2013
A marshmallow slowly roasted over a campfire
Some chocolate oozing down my face
some gram crackers  crunching under my teeth
I can't always make smores but I can have some more
I want some more kindness to put a smile on my face
I want to express that kindness to others around me
I want some more quality time with family
I want some more good friends to surround me
I want to be a great friend in return
I want some more compassion to ground me
I want more passion when I right even if it keeps me at night
I want the sight to find the beauty around me and you
Do you want smores too?
Do you want some more in life?
Please reply if you like smores
Please reply with what you want some more of in life.
Ann M Johnson Oct 2014
A marshmallow slowly roasted over a campfire
Some chocolate oozing down my face
some gram crackers  crunching under my teeth
I can't always make smores but I can have some more
I want some more kindness to put a smile on my face
I want to express that kindness to others around me
I want some more quality time with family
I want some more good friends to surround me
I want to be a great friend in return
I want some more compassion to ground me
I want more passion when I write even if it keeps me at night
I want the sight to find the beauty around me and you
Do you want smores too?
Do you want some more in life?
I hope this is a Treat 4 U, My friends
Like and repost if you like or think you would like Smores
Have a Great Day!
lilac Nov 2020
there's this boy,
dark hair, light-brown skin,
his eyes warm like a campfire,
with my melting marshmallow heart,
my fever for him grows, i love him,
squished between the graham crackers of guilt,
because i love her as well.

-lilac
Britney Lyn Mar 2018
I roasted marshmallows over our burning memories
The pictures caught fire like the love we once had.
I covered it in the only thing that tasted sweeter than you,
And smashed it between our opposite barriers.
I devoured our love in all it's sticky, false goodness...
And at the end of the day, it was the best smores I'd ever had.
Nat Lipstadt Aug 2013
August 21, 2010

Sometimes I take time out from reading yesterday's news,
playing video games,
deleting e-mails,
worrying about the future,
spilling my coffee,
cursing my no mechanical ability,
eating when no one's looking,
blessing n cursing,
willpower n technology,
simultaneously,

Sometimes, not often,
I make the bus,
hit no traffic,
never get sick,
depart on time,
stick to my diet,
make a decent rhyme,
stay awake at the theatre,
hit a golf ball consistent,
and more important,
do them all,
and live, straight n true.
But not often, not enough,
and this too,
Is Not Enough

This continuum is a seesaw,
lurching smoothly from one extreme to another,
But where's the progress,
the forward motion is absent,
the up down noises mask
the no development,
the forward notion
****** down into static abyss,
by emotional gravity,
the daily chores pockmarked
by occasional sugary smores
and nothing more,
Life just don't
satisfy
and the mind rebels and
calls for a constitutional congress, a new one, write just for me,
to ratify
so I can reconstitute
my dreams

When I wake up Monday next want my desk to be a guitar
and my job,
wandering troubadour

On Tuesday best,
will hijack an aeroplane,
drive the Feds crazy,
take everybody on board,
on vacation,
to Hawaii

Wednesday I will fall in love,
every hour on the hour,
become a vampire,
get me an entourage  
and
each episode will air on HBO
and I will dance with a star
on Hollywood Blvd.

Thursday I will rest,
in order to upset and fool
the juggernaut that will
ally against me,
to defend my threat
to law and order and
the sanctity of the Continuum

Friday I will celebrate,
placing swimming pools on Fifth and Sixth and Seventh Avenues,
even got one for the snobs on
Park AvenYoohoo

Saturday, I will hide in plain sight,
after offering ten million for my arrest and capture,
and/ or, your choice,
eternal rapture
(Hint; When In Times Square
Don' t tie your shoes)

Sunday, my name will be blessed in houses of worship globally,
cherished as an American Idol,
after I proclaim Freedom of Choice to pick any day, any time,
as your legal, personal,
private, unique, day of rest

By fiat I do declare, one a month be Travel Day,
each citizen and resident alien,
must google map
a desired location
and embarcadero ASAP, to someplace I ain't never been,
So we can be boon friends, and for evermore,
traveling companions

Recite this daily prayer,
Fear not to err,
If you omit one or two of its directives; just get off the continuum of daily ire;
Just one of the notions below will
Make every day a week end!

The daily prayer:

By decree of me each human be obligated to do one of
these daily!

Be forever young n humble;
Feel ancient and royal;
Ride tall in the saddle;
Do something nifty;
Take someone's hand unexpectedly.
Drive home in the slow lane;
Do the minimus;
Do the maximus;
Leave a book on a park bench;
Use pen n paper, write a letter;
Take a chance, make people laugh;
Barrel into contention;
Show mercy to the confused,
Show anger to the abusers.
Bless a child with both hands;
Grasp your soul, thrown it down,
And raise a child to the sky
Straight up,
A continuum, you and they,
A ladder to heaven
This is one...FYI. I stumbled
On a bunch of poems 2~3 years old.   Very different style.   Hohoho Merry Chanukah to me,   Most very long, will fire at will;  long so not suitable for the 10W crowd....sigh. Oh yeah, one more thing, I wrote them on my cell phone, usually in the bathtub, yes, I went thru a lot of  corporate phones...
Kate Morgan Jun 2013
I lost cuntrol when I was nine years old.
Mother took my hand off my crotch yet left my brother to the confinement of his ****;
Girls good, boys bad, and oh no sweetheart your beauty is your only power.
And I’d blush; not in the way she’d hoped through the sweep of a brush but rather when my teacher left her hand lingering on my back as she bent over to tick the formula of the female form and cross out what the chimes of the church commanded.
I looked at the curve of the x she used to mark the spot and sighed.

Teach me. Teach me your ways so I can breathe in the sweet blossom of your hair as I rest in the bossom of your heart, its smells like lavender. Lavender.
Lavender sweet dreams honey and I will see you there tonight.

It was then I began my perpetual low earth orbit from dream to dream and departed from what mother said that day when I asked the question that makes mothers quake as they smooth out the creases in their dresses and tuck their unravelled hair behind bitten ears.
Making love. We made love only to make you, darling.
Mother smiled sweetly and turned her back on me as her mind traced back to that morning when she made mad passionate love with the milkman when daddy wasn’t looking. I am still waiting for my little sister.

If practice makes me perfect then meet man, mother.
I used his rocket to launch myself into space where I spelt her name out in the stars and jumped over the moon to Venus. I felt the warmth from her skin like the sun that keeps me alive. Alive. Alive.
Warm me, darling, just with the nestle in my vessel in my veins in my sugar coated spaceship.
We found sticks and made smores and we floated together, with my hand tracing your V in that three-dimensional galaxy between your legs we fell in love. No void existed between our celestial bodies as gravity pulled me into your arms.

He came as I came back from space thinking of nothing but the soft shape of her hips and the trail of her spine that led me back to earth.
There’s man with his grey socks still on his feet, dark matter on the sheets and a wrapper on the floor.
******* I thought, but in the sky…
That night my mother asked me why I am smiling.
I said I have become an astronaut in orbit with a woman who I love in space.
She cried shes lost it.
I smiled, nodded yes, I've lost it to her.

I lost cuntrol when the earth, heavens and waters fell in love and sailed and soured as we danced on the tree tops of your garden, with waves crashing beneath us leaving salt shimmering particles like diamonds on your feet.
You were my alphabet soup that filled me with too many words, the thrill of the prize at the bottom of the cereal packet and the noble intentions of stopping the Titanic from sinking with the touch of button.
We had love at first sight like David and Jonathen, Ruth and Naomi who boarded the ark as my back arched in passionate throws below deck, as Noa held Emzaras hand smiling.
Adding a letter to her name on Transgender Tuesdays was just an afterthought.
Opening her drawers to pack up her boxers and bind her ******* Noa smiled as the clock cocked Tuesday.
She entered her escapism; what the Bible calls a natural disaster, I just call natural.

I lost cuntrol when I re-arranged the stars like pick and mix, so I could always find my way back to you. When you said I love you I wondered whether I’d had too many dolly mixtures and where jelly babies came from.
Sugar rimmed your lips like salt on a martini and left me drunk with desire as I licked around your edges. You slipped a haribo ring on my finger and I gave you my loveheart.

I lost cuntrol one day when my lover Alice said eat me. She showed me Dinah who hide beneath her skirt and I followed curiously.
I didn’t ask her to say please but that’s another story.

After her lesson I was told the Sputnik satellite was man-made and I laughed.
Oh no, women have been launching rockets with complete cuntrol between their legs for years, leaving the earths atmosphere and dreaming of everything else but ***** ****’s ****.
During countdown they think of shopping lists, whether they’ve burnt off enough calories for wine with their girlfriends, and sometimes, sometimes, of her.
Do good girls go gay?
In space, my mother said, in space.
*I am a spoken poet*
Ann M Johnson Aug 2014
The end of summer is such a ******
The end of picnic's in the park
The end of Fireworks in the dark
The end of State fairs
The end of outdoor booths were  people sell their wares
The end of camping and roasting Smores
All too soon we will back indoors
The end of outdoor Music Fests
Too soon to be replaced with books and taking tests
I hope what remains is some good memories of Summer to keep us warm all fall and winter long
Peeka Jul 2014
I wished on a star too
Skipped rocks, flew off the inner tube
Played capture the flag, hide and go seek
Summer camp and climbing trees.

Passing notes, amusement parks, sports awards
Just Dance, sleepovers, boogie boards
Tire swings, smores, shirley temples,
Neighborhood friends, trampolines... few troubles.

A shooting star passed,
Silent tornadoes of memories
Come, lets ponder the time machine.
Just a kid, or maybe an adult- I'm 18.

Cherish past experiences, live for your dreams.
Garrett Johnson Jul 2019
Scouting Minerals with some pirates.

A while ago- Stopped and thought, drank some tea.
A little while ago- Watched American ******, read Fear and loathing in Las Vegas while watching the movie Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas while on Lsd.
Some time ago- slept in, Slept with someone, listened to "Endless, Nameless" on repeat for four straight hours.
Not too long ago- HaD a DrEaM tHaT i CaN't ReMeMbEr, had an acoustic nightmare, melted the atmosphere of my brain with *****, and had a cancer attack.
A light year ago- Watched Live Leak while eating smores, more and more, more or less, she was *******, which was cool and all but I got a little scared.
A minute ago- typed the last line which isn't this line but is supposed to be, I guess.


Garrett Johnson.
note: Jerry Garcia has nothing to do with this. I just like him and the Grateful Dead
Harmony Sapphire Jan 2015
Senseless
Palm trees wrapped with barbed wire.
I like gingerbread cookies of pillsbury dough, of that you already know.
Frappuccinos without whipped.
Like a dream

Y.M.C.A.

Rollerblading the past is fading.
Summer camps horseback riding, rock climbing, arts & crafts.
Friends confiding, connections binding, lots of laughs.
Swimming, smores, canouing, & row boats.

Gemini Loved Scorpio

Solar system of a higher altitude.
Astrology to set the mood.
A date which is charming & not rude. Greek or mexican? My favorite food.
© Harmony Sapphire . All rights reserved
Makenzie Marie Jul 2015
Last night was a perfect night,
watching shooting stars across the sky
the crackling firewood
and the glimmer in our eyes;
smores, and stories
of troubled times
and how we're grateful we made it out alive.
Scripture study fireside,
testimonies, and lots of tears cried,
lead to long group hugs to dry our eyes.

This is what real Friendship feels like:
this is remembering why I needed to stay alive,
this is why I'm grateful for God's presence in my life.

And I think I'm learning,
"borrowed time"
means staying up until the sunrise
and still calling it Saturday night.

Why else would He have created Summertime?
Grateful to He who planned out my life for giving me such amazing friends and influences in my life to remind me why I fight
tangshunzi Jul 2014
Ogni giorno si arriva a caratterizzare splendido lavoro di Lindsay Madden su SMP è un buon giorno .Ma un giorno in cui si arriva a caratterizzare un intero weekend di festeggiamenti splendidamente fotografato in Turk e Caicos ?Ebbene .non vi è un aggettivo nell'intera dizionario che può descrivere questo.Ma non significa che non si può godere fino all'ultimo abiti da sposa 2014 secondo della loro ripresa amore .cena di benvenuto e matrimonio sotto - e naturalmente c'è ancora di più vi aspetta qui .Oggi è un buon giorno davvero .


Da Lindsay Madden Fotografia .. Chris \u0026Laura ha optato per un amore tiro tropicale prima del giorno delle nozze per documentare il loro tempo speso su Turks e Caicos .Questi vestiti da sposa due erano così felice .rilassato ein amore .Mi è piaciuto molto trascorrere il pomeriggio catturare il loro amore bello sulla morbida sabbia fine e le acque turchesi di Grace Bay .


Da Lindsay Madden Fotografia.Come l'azzurro del cielo ha dato rapidamente il posto a un tramonto pesca.Laura .Chris \u0026i loro ospiti si stabilirono in sul ​​ponte ovest del Seven Stars Resort per Chris e la cena di benvenuto di Laura .Lanterne appeso da una palma all'altra e gli ospiti aveva una vista mozzafiato del tramonto sulla Grace Bay .Questo è stato Chris \u0026Weekend di nozze di Laura calcio d'inizio !Dopo una deliziosa cena tutti hanno fatto la loro strada verso la spiaggia per un falò completo di smores \u0026uno dei principali dance party grazie alla fascia isole Junkanoo .abbiamo FUNK .

Condividi questa splendida galleria

Da Lindsay Madden Photography.Turks e Caicos è un posto davvero speciale per avere un matrimonio di destinazione .Laura \u0026Chris sono nativi newyorkesi e condividere il mio amore \u0026affetto per i Caraibi .Così.quando mi hanno chiesto di volare giù per il paradiso per il loro matrimonio .io .ovviamente .ha detto di sì !Hanno scelto di sposarsi presso il Seven Stars Resort che si trova proprio sulla Grace Bay .La loro cerimonia ha avuto luogo sulla sabbia calda circa un'ora prima del tramonto del sole e il loro cocktail ora / ricevimento si è tenuto in Apollo suite dell'hotel.La suite in sé era un attico con vista sull'oceano e questo ha offerto Chris e ospiti una vista mozzafiato di Laura del tramonto durante l' ora del cocktail e posti in prima fila per la loro sorpresa fuochi d'artificio alla fine della notte .Fiori per Arts ambientali decorato la suite con bellissimi fiori dell'isola \u0026candele.L'atmosfera era calda einvitante che era perfetto per la loro storia intima.Chris \u0026Laura sorrise e si mise a ridere per tutta la giornata



e ** avuto la fortuna di catturare il loro sforzo bel matrimonio di destinazione.
Fotografia : Lindsay Madden Fotografia | Event Planner : NILA Eventi - Lynne Watts | Cake: Seven Stars Resort | Inviti : Jessica Leigh Paperie | Scarpe da sposa : Nine West | Wedding abiti da sposa 2014 Bands : Cartier | Scarpe sposo : Louis Vuitton | vestito dello sposo :su ordine dalla My.Suit | Bikini : lavanderia da Shelli Segal | Dress \u0026 Velo da sposa : Cymbeline | Chris ' Swim Trunks : Vilebrequin | Fuochi d'artificio : Seven Stars Resort | Fiori \u0026 Lighting : Fiori per Arte ambientale { Turks \u0026 Caicos } | Hair \u0026Make Up : Sheque da Shenique | Pantaloni di Laura : Letarte | Località : Seven Stars Resort .Turks e Caicos | Località : West Deck .Seven Stars Resort .Turks e Caicos | Posizione : Grace Bay.Turks e Caicos | Cappello per il sole : Joe FreshLindsay Madden Fotografiaè ñ/ a> e Nila Le destinazioni sono membri del nostro Little Black Book .Scopri come i membri sono scelti visitando la nostra pagina delle FAQ .Lindsay Madden Fotografia vedi portfolio Nila Meta vedi
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Turks e Caicos Wedding Weekend da Lindsay Madden Fotografia_abiti da sposa corti
Ann M Johnson Jul 2014
It is Christmas in July
The neighbor's having  BBQ's
Inviting not just a few, but as many as they can fit
To roast Smores and sing songs around the fire pit
They even gave a poor boy a soft ball mitt
They fed some local homeless men and women too
They also inspired some random acts of kindness
I hope the trend spreads like wildfire
It is a wonderful time to put aside any family feuds
I don't know if the story will make the news

It is really up to me and you, to make it Christmas In July and all year too!
This is how it should be generosity not just ,on Christmas but all year long
Ariel Baptista Jun 2014
It smells like summer on the island
Like laundry and leaves
Like late-afternoon lakewater
And pollen-filled breeze
I remember my summers on the island
The bunkbeds and bonfires
Beaches, bikinis
And dirt roads under dark tires
Birch trees and blackberries
Blue birds and sour cherries
Two hours on the ferry
Summer on the island
Lawn chairs and lemonade
Hammock-hanging, holidaying
Laying in the lazy shade
Hiking high into the bright blue sky
Deep inhale and satisfied sigh
We had been waiting for this
Our summer on the island
Cold tides and closed eyes
Penny candy and pecan pie
Crop-tops, flip-flops, tree-forts and drop-offs
Crayfish, crayons
And breakfast on the dock at dawn
This was summer on our island
Millions of mosquitoes, minnows and movies till midnight
Eating smores in the smoky firelight
Running through the trailer park in the rain after dark
Our summer on this island
Everything was my favourite part
I loved it all
The grass
The trees
The foamy waterfall
Sun, seagulls and sand dunes
Either services or sleeping in till noon
Sweet island summer, over too soon
Summer on the island
Was a lifetime ago
The island was my summer
But I’m letting go.
Felicia C Jul 2014
you are splatter-painting in my living room
bright red like blood,
like the light in the room from that day you took me away
framed in the center.
"Oh."
we chase and try to catch the moon, but it isn’t out tonight, so

we hold each other instead.
I use my garden as a tightrope and you challenge me like a ringmaster.
I’m in a spangled leotard, turning for you, charming under the ink sky, and you go inside to make me some smores.


You said you couldn’t stay over because you had work in the morning, but I woke up to your elbows and my coffee.
July 2013
Thunder Lord Dec 2014
ey yo gurl
you make me hurl
champs back to you
for a sweet alley-oop
Give xerath a boop
right on the head
he prolly shoulda read
this ain't yogi-bear
I fill caskets, not pic-a-nic-baskets


feel free to ask it
You know I got a task it-
Starts and ends with a flip
and a stun
so don't give me lip about this tent
I've got the smores, so don't get bent
Arcassin B Jul 2016
By Arcassin Burnham

Never seen you here before until today with your
Smile and your grace , and your style , and your face
Looking at me as I stare into the dark corridors,
Your pride melted like cheap smores that devoured
Souls of their assisters and brother keepers , we don't
Ignore the way they treat us,
I got the remedy In case your anxiety comes like a
Sequel in hopes to hide the truth to a better meaning,
That's lethal,
Never seen such light like yours ,
Your neon's peaking,
Earthquake your fate into a mistake that Carry's weight
And extra baggage so that you won't get a date to who
Is just right or average.
(:Birthday Boy Here :)!!!!

©ABPoetry2016

http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2016/07/19-ep-official.html
Loneliness is a common illness.
Yet I reside in it selfishly,
The White walls are all Black,
My mind fades oft to the back.

You made the attempt,
And I made the refuse,
Self-destruction my only attribute.
Pain my only friend.

I see death and hear it too,
It calls out to me in the form of the blues.
I am reaping what I have sown,
Soon, my soul will embark on its final toll.

Love is absent,
Cold is present,
I wish I could feel,
But feelings are for childlike yesterday’s.

I was a happy boy once,
But age is just a number,
At 16 I am older than most,
My face a grave testament, to the graves of friends sentiment.

I am sick with an illness,
One for me not to be cured.
I wish I believed in fate,
It would be much easier then.

Yet there is no one to blame,
Or hide behind,
Only my shadow to reside beside,
Only your memory to taunt my mind.

I have made many mistakes,
And will make many more,
One day in fact I think I’ll be poor,
But the greatest by far,
Was to leave you barred,
To leave you stranded in the backseat of that car.

The wind is calling me now,
It talks to me somehow,
Sayin’ “You won’t be much longer now, won’t be left alone to frown.”
I answer, “Come back when I am dead,”
It echoes, “Won’t be much longer now.”

The tears are empty,
So is the pitcher.
How can I be with ya?
Never, never, never.

I have trouble sleeping,
Harder still to make sense,
Because my dreams are haunting
To this day the leave men incensed.

I am going crazy,
Slowly but surely.
Soon you’ll see me on your door.
Wanting to get our favorite smores.

Silence, now, silent void.
The wind is no longer whispering.
The walls no longer menacing.
Only me, without.
My mind not even speaking,
Not daring to break what is happening.

The windows open without noise,
Outside I can see my future,
Lit in a light other than the moon.
What I see… makes me hope I die soon.
Styles Jun 2014
Bad girl attitude; going commando; skirt and open toes. Haters look – **** them hoes. Bad ***** and I’m on the go; Love him not; I know for sure. Rather be bad by myself; that’s for sure. Don’t need a man; just his credit card; Hitachi wand,  and a pack of Smores. She loves all types of fun, but loves their money more. After all, that’s what men are for. Try and use her for her body; jaws falling on the floor. Naughty little thing; crawling on the floor; touch her fur, and make her kitty cat purr. Spoiled herself with fun; always come back for more. She’s the one; ones scattered on the floor. Bad girls play around; good girls have way more fun.
Short
Ashari Ty Jul 2018

if thunderstorms are to come
it'd be just like rain
i'll sway and sing tunes
along the electric beats

if tsunamis are to come
it'd be just like beaches
i'll surf along the waves
and will never seek land

if tornadoes are to come
it'd be just like wind
i'll fly my kite above
and will never pull the string

if earthquakes are to come
it'd be just like waltz
i will nail every step
and forever i will groove

if the forests are to burn
it'd be just a bonfire
i'll make tons of smores
and i will never share

if the world is to end
it'd be just a morning
for a world that is burning
is a world that is shining
f a y a h . .
Luna Grey Jul 2011
Anything could go wrong at
Any time for
Any one for
Usually no reason at all

That’s why I neurotically say always be careful.

Things can be
Repaired or
Replaced

But with lives there are
No do-overs
No take backs
And no telling what could happen
At any moment

Once a life is extinguished its
Gone
And you can never get them back
And you can never say you’re
Sorry
And you’ll never see them again
Never tell them how absolutely much you
I love you

Never tell them to pick up milk on their way
Home
Never tell them about a new song you heard and
Dance around the kitchen looking like fools
Until you catch each others eyes and fall over laughing
In a heap on the ground
Struggling for breath

When you wake up from a dream
Good dream, bad dream
The feeling of excitement or fear is replaced
By nothing at all
Just a sudden drop in your stomach
When you realize there’s no one to tell

No one to laugh at the absurdity of dreams
Or to comfort you from the darkness of nightmares



No one to make tea with in the middle of the night
Or an over complicated recipe for dinner
Or pancakes for breakfast
Or smores by a fire

To tell you that you look fine
Or ridiculous in what you’re wearing
That you have paint on your face
And twigs in your hair

That you are wonderful
And you are loved
And everything will be ok
Even when you’re not sure you want it to be

Tell them everyday
You love them
And believe them when they
Love you too
And ignore their cries of protest
When you say a little too often
Please be careful
James M Vines Sep 2015
Hear the whistling wind. See the snow flakes fall. Look at ice crystals as they glisten like jewels on tree limbs. School is cancelled for a snow day and children laugh and fall down on patches of ice as they skate and sled. Hot chocolate had replaced iced tea and marsh mellows stick to your nose as you try to eat hot smores. The heat of summer has vanished and the bluster of fall has gone. Now is a joyous and restful time as the song of winter is sung.
Mary Allard Sep 2018
-smash the telephone,
  make sure it hits hard pavement
  1,000 piece minimum

-tilt lit candle
  onto wooden countertop
  maybe make smores?

-smear sephora
  ****** words
  painted on windows of the honda

-find out
  what sledding through the window
  really feels like

-use the car keys
  as if they were wings
  up up & away

-be the girl
  who runs away
  to start her life
Sunny Snow Dec 2012
You know that feeling
When you get inspired
Something deep inside you
Is locked and loaded
Ready to transpire
Making thoughts come to life
Making what you feel
Burst into flames
And burn…

It’s like a warm campfire,
And the smell of
Smores and hotdogs
Are on the tips of your tongue,
Like back in the days
When you where younger…

Cause when you’re four years old
Everything seems to be so alive
Cause you’re not worried about
“How the hell will I make ends meet?”
Or “How will I survive?”
You’re so focused on living
That life tends to slip away…

When life slips,
You soon begin to notice,
That things aren’t the way
They used to be,
Seeing that inspiration
Doesn’t come as quickly…

Sometimes it’ll take
What feels like forever,
Just to get those
Old dusty synapsis to fly,
Take flight and mirror
What I feel inside…

Cause digging deep is easy,
Translating it though,
Can take some time.
See my soul
Speaks Latin,
A language of love to the core…

I only speak English
With a bit of French
Which is quite poorly done…

I try so **** hard,
Just to pour out my soul,
And let you splash around
Till your soaked with my ideas,
Shivering with my experiences
I just want you to understand…

What I’ve been through,
What I’ve survived,
How I was before I had to fight,
Just to stay alive…

See when I was little
To be inspired
Was a natural state of being,
Now it’s just
Plugging my mind
Into an outlet
Hopping the socket
Isn’t dead yet…

Cause I’m dying a little
Each and every day…
I just want my words
To have some meaning
So when I am gone,
They’ll all have something to say…

I don’t wanna change the world,
I’d be satisfied with
One heart,
One mind,
One soul…

Cause ever since I decided,
That putting my pen to the paper,
Was a good idea,
I’ve wanted to impact
To change someone,
Just one…

Cause life’s a big domino effect,
If I can open your mind,
Maybe you can do the same some day?

All I want is to inspire,
So I pour out my soul,
And write my life away…
I was listening to "Blood Poetry" By: Grieves and totally just got this odd feeling that I should write...so yeah.
Natures timepiece resets
mental alarm clocks and
washes away the hassles
of the daily grind.
Woken up by a well blended
mixture of clamor and quietude
with various birds chirping,
running water,
crackling embers,
wombats mating
and groans made by the
chemically inconvenienced
from a site nearby.
Insects fly overhead an
unorthodox patterns
as you unzip the door
of your mesh enclosure
and step out into the
inhospitable environment.
Pressed coffee to chase
the bacon and eggs
as you gourmandize
that over the fire,
cast iron skillet
morning breakfast.  
Commence to mysterious exploits
without one second of the day to waste
down heavily wooded trails
in search for introspection
and tranquility.
Uncultivated areas where
diligent stalwarts build dams,
antlers gallop through the
pulp and sapling
while woodland creatures,
whimsical and carefree,
play and sing songs
of the jovial jungle
until the birds of the wild
pounce upon their prey
as they become a tasting menu item
for the predatory aggressors
in the vicious circle
of nature's goodness.
Sun droplets peek
behind the seedlings
and you take a breath of fresh air
as you decrease depression
and obliterate anxiety.
Compass navigates
as you hike through
the rocky regions of the greenery
where you settle down to
eat your sandwich,
sip your thermos of soup,
wild berries for dessert
and wash it down with
a refreshing drink from
the natural flowing rivers
where ducklings defecate
and fish ****.
Perched up on a rock
in the highlands,
still on this quest for
self meditation,
you survey the terrain
and observe a family tipping
an overweighted, unbalanced
canoe on the river,
rambunctious ruffians
going white water rafting
in the vast rapids and
drink firewater with the natives
until they puke from overindulgence,
a lovely couple not in sync
with their oar rowing skills
on the lake,
children burn bugs
with magnifying glasses and
sneaking smores before
healthy campfire dinners arrive.
Day breaks into dusk and
dusk into night
with vivid colors and lucid dreams.
Scowling eyes peer through
the woodsy inhabitant
with curious and suspicious
idiosyncrasies as you trekked
through the wilderness
towards the bivouac
to start the nightly campfire,
submerge in repellent
and prepare your opulent hobo banquet. Twisting the cap off the first of twelve,
vital force fills to the brim
with reflection and clarity
of existentialism.
The birds have it good.
The wombats have it good.
The stalwarts have it good.
The antlers have it good.
The predatory aggressors have it good.
The families, the ruffians, that lovely couple, the children, even the burnt bugs have it good.
But you.....
you are like the woodland creatures,
you too play and sing songs,
twisting off cap after cap
until the Monday morning
manpower surfaces to the top,
like a volcanic eruption of plutonic rock
and the predatory aggressors
of labor force swoop down
and devour you without mercy
or an ounce of hesitation.
Under the silver moonlit night,
***** of fire burn brightly
in the purple hazed skies,
through the whistling treetops,
the forest ghouls dance like
demons and politicians
(essentially the same thing),
hallucinations of shadow people
appearing and disappearing
through the flames of the fire
stare wide eyed with painted faces.
Surrounded by a midden of empty bottles, you're wet brain slips
in and out of alcohol induced comas
and a beer blanket softly nestles you in
as you hold a lit cigarette in one hand
and half a bottle of Dutch milk
in the other like teddy bear,
your eyes fall into sedation....
Jolted awake like a thunderbolt,
eyes go from closed to open immediately
and chemically inconvenienced
state of being groans in
agonizing pains
just like the ones you heard
the morning before.
Fah Sep 2014
Waking up this morning felt like i’d already done so much wrong , the taunting voice i haven’t heard for a while was back with jibes of ” not good enough”.Still, the day moved by and the sun blazed most of the time away.  So we spend a few hours napping and wake up thinking it’s the morning again. Soon after a movie lunch i’m anxious , heightened to a level where i scroll and scroll through social media screens until i pull myself away and meditate. This time i am aware . I sit facing the west , asking for release , feeling and not running . Acknowledging and sending love with conscious intent of “let go” to the moments, “let go” the people whom those moments are attached to. I feel it out , like being birthed. Like being birthed there is painful slowness where the depth and intricacy of the moment are safeguarded by sturdy patience , slow my soul to a standstill …. Of breath and closed eyes - frankincense smoke and angel guide so close to my ear breaths whisper fallacies away and when all is still , there - then , the tears and drooling mouth where i don’t care for the vampire stealing some poor soul elsewhere nor the motion of the sun’s axis. Breathing , stretching , balance. A timeless viewpoint arriving back in the frame.  When all is ready the tree calls out for a conversation . The bed is filled with a love , whom i eye with new lenses each day , checking to see if i am seeing an image i desire or the majestic view of a wild solitary flame in the middle suburb. But , there he is. Even clearer than before. Take one hole at a time he told me once about a golfer. Take each 24 hours at a time. I become honorary American. I eat 2 smores and 3 deer grace us with their ethereal presence as the luminescent flare of final sunshine dip dives to dusk’s quintessential hue of deep ocean blue. Grandma has a hungry monster inside her as i eat the watermelon grown with pesticides in a house full of things. Tarot cards are up to 35. It’s easier to wake up here early , it’s like the day slides like melted butter off pancakes.
haylee beckim Jun 2018
A blur of sparklers at night during the summer and getting burned every time.
2. The blue and pink colors of the Texas sky that looks like a ****** painting
3. The almost unbearable warmth that made you want to sleep in the fridge
4. My stepdad would ask me what I wanted for dinner because mom wasn't home and neither of us knew where she was
5. I remember being horrified of the doctors and my stepdad blowing up gloves and drawing faces on them.
6. That everyone that it was weird I liked my marshmallows for smores almost chard
7. I thought my fashion sense was amazing, with my Hannah Montana shirt and glitter perfume.
Prakriti Mar 2018
There's this void inside me,
a vacuum ,you know?
It often expands like a balloon but inflates really slow.

And when this void expands, it screams at me.
I sush it for a while but it doesn't stop,you see.

It yells' Don't hold Yourself up, go, wander free.
Go run into the world, set off for your journey.

Catch these dreams you have, keep it by your side
I know you want to let go and flow with the tide
.'
'Fill me in' This vacuum inside me cries.
'Fill me in with the starry scene as you lay down on the grass somewhere,
Fill me in with the delicious smores and scary stories you share by the campfire.

Shower me with the sprinkles of water as you raft in a swift river
And as you get scared of falling,
feel your adrenaline rush with a shiver.

Erase me with the giggles and laughter you share with the strangers
Complete me with the joy of new friendships you gather in your purse.

Hit me with the snowballs that you throw as you laugh sticking your tongue out,
Cover me with your red cheeks and freezing nose when you get hit while you pout.

Love, fall so hard in love that your story will be told in days ahead.
Hurt me with your heart breaks and the tears that you shed.

Tire me with long walks of the mountain
And when you're in awe at the beautiful sunset, you won't recall the pain.

Color me up with the blush on your cheeks as you kiss
Shiver me with the strange feeling, betold as bliss.

Confuse me with your screams mixed with laughter as you get chased by a cow
Relax me with your smiles as you open up your heart that's been locked
till now.

Annoy me with your banters with new mates,
Just fill me in with whatever your journey gets.

You've always wanted to go on an adventure , have you not?
So why're you shying away now, don't give it a lot of thought.

This is your soul speaking, this is you, yourself, the void.
Don't let it be' the child is grown,the dream is gone' thing as said by Pink Floyd.

Promise me will you?
Such a work you are,pheww.'

I listen to the screams that my void lets out,
and i try to comfort it
'Soon, when the time is right,okay?'
i mutter as i feel my heart beat.

The void's quiet now, i guess it gave up on me
I frown and i stare at abyss, i think, i think about my dreams and all i want to be.

Today, i waved everyone goodbye,
unknown of my return.
I finally mustered up the courage, and set off for the Sun.

Early in the morning, i said' Hey void, your name's going to change'
I guess it understood, for the feeling i had was so strange.

' Here i come, my own little adventure,
Smile, your waiting days are over.'
Hmm. So i just wrote whatever i felt.I've always wanted to just wander off, you know, just...
Love,Ciao
Harmony Sapphire Jan 2015
Gaze upon the moon.
Moonlight illuminates the room.
Stars glitter & glow.
An enchanting beauty it bestows.
The cold night sky.
Makes me feel alive.
Not wanting to die.
An immortal existence.
Humanity has no resistance.
Fireworks penetrate the fog.
Gathering around the campfire on a log.
Rainbow colors that dont blur, you can see clearly. An image that depression is a cure.
A strength unweary.
Roasting marshmellow smores,
while the others sleep & snore.
Collecting more fire wood.
Right before me is where the grizzly bear stood.
He wanted food that is what I understood.
If you run they will attack.
The woods I wont be going back.
To live you have to stand still or try to climb a tree.
Don't run to the hills.
Just stay & be.
Animals smell fear. That much is clear.
Food attracts them. Tranqualize could be wise.
Celestite Feb 2019
The trees have shed the snow that sleeps on their branches,
and the rivers are starting to crack.
The wings of the geese are once again heard in the distance,
and icicles are creating puddles on my front porch.
I'm packing up my winter gear and saving my galoshes for next
December.
The Sun is once again peeking behind locks of cirus clouds.
Sofly kissing my cheeks and nose.
My back is warm, my toes are wet, and I finally remeber the smell of, "green."
As the Sun soons sets, the smell of a campfire cozies my lungs.
And I think I forgot how bright stars could shine, until now.
Polaroids snip snap click and clack as I gather and scrunch up with two friends to get the perfect scrapbook shot.
Burnt smores and belly laughes fill the air until we all pass out- and do it all again.
hope.
Nicole Joanne Mar 2015
I DON'T KNOW IF I WANT TO BASH MY HEAD INTO A WALL OR MY HAND INTO YOUR CHEST. ALL I KNOW IS EVERYTHING IS SPINNING AND I CAN'T MAKE IT STOP AND I JUST WANT TO SIT IN A FIELD AND FEEL THE SUN ON MY HEAD BUT THE GROUND IS COVERED IN SNOW AND I'M SHIVERING IN THE COLD AND I DON'T KNOW IF I WANT TO BE WRAPPED IN A BLANKET OR IN YOUR ARMS. I DON'T KNOW IF I WANT TO BE BURIED BENEATH THE SNOW OR CRADLED IN YOUR WARMTH. YOU'RE HER FIREPLACE AND SHE KEEPS THROWING LOGS AND YOUR FLAMES KEEP GROWING. ITS BEYOND MY CONTROL. IM TRYING TO MAKE SMORES BUT THE FLAME IT GROWS. I'M SCARED TO GET BURNED. I'M SCARED TO GET BURNED.

(NJ2015) (All Rights Reserved)
Autumn Oct 2017
You are my favorite passenger
my driver through tired eyes

You are my Nebraska rest stop lover
and the morning kiss in the tent.

You make my lips curl to a smile
and dance along your face.

You are the lime in my corona
and the clank to my bottle.

You are not my smores poptart
more like my layered dip

You're my backseat snoozer
and my cutest cuddle duddle

My late night fisherman
and my serving counterpart

You're my badlands baby cakes

You fill up my heart

You fill up my heart
Ken Pepiton Apr 2021
Nations  arose after the days of Peleg,
in the legendary story of Babel,
which
does have a present presence on the surface,
of the after Babel yon der myth of us
we the sapience augmented common sensed band,
single-sideband, of course, if you can cut the antennae,
to this old freq,
radioman entertainment zone, post
pasts unbelieved arizen
as we see around about us

we the beings thinking we were put here,
by no will of our own,
okeh? Hard for me to agree, for
I was a self-willed child, on the earth of 1954,
made unspoil-able, by my measure, sould,
so whatever I touch prospers,
it does not turn to gold, but time,
precious years
in days
proving once more, the way of life
remains reproof of instructions,
glitches gitinin, gremlins ist-hextical real messages,
say measure twice, cut once, keep plenty
of spare teleo-smores, say again
- whisper- find the answer -

DID is the strategy, not the disability.
Gitcheractagethah, adam henry….haul ***

Call the cops. I shot the sheriff.

Renegade boomers, eh? You seen some, h'eabouts?

Hunter people, no-sense talk babblers, yon der here
we come
sons of them guns was left.
Yep, ***** head on an old man in vietnam t'day,
tells a story told since ******'s,
time, at the briefest,
least heated
hate
instance of one once main flow, recirculating as the water
remembers,
all this did happen, parts of all of us were here,
in this moment, relative to you.

The entire creation groans in travail awaiting…

wait a minute.
we did do this, as a whole. See, besides knowns lost,
for their use in con structing the destructive idea given
Tubal-cain.
The enthrallment of Tubal-cain, you may imagine,
progressed with the reiteration of the father's curse on cain,

the signal emanating from the seed that knows the cost of dying.

Cain and Able, well, we have a few ways that tale makes the sense.
Have no fear, all that is past understanding, it cannot crush you.
Commoners hold the common sense, rule of reality.
Peace outward.
The commons are in fine shape,
fret not, we got some old peacemakers smoking flower,
blowing smoke up monstrosity's assine suggestion that I die.
Keep on sowing... see what dead seed raises up
forestfaith Jun 2018
even though i just met you this February,
even though i just met you this spring,
you are so unique.
different, really, i have never met someone like you.
We are opposites.
yet so close.

you get mad. Really mad sometimes.
i hope i can get you know you better.
let's hang out more.
let's go to another country sometime,
and get some smores.
to mah friend
avery Apr 2020
i think of home whenever
i smell my shampoo
i soak in the sun
i see smoke
i am home

i don’t know what home is
home is familiarity
home is blanketed
home is safe
home is you

i feel as if
home is barefoot
home is short hair
home is bonfires
home is young
home is crushing
home is christian
home is swimming
home is family
home is smores
home is the nature club
home is loving to read
home is learning to ride a rip stick
home is painting with my neighbor
home is reading to laynie
home is warm
home is easter with everyone
home is memaw
home is october
home is cozy
home is Sebastian the cat
home is joy the cat
home is pe uniforms
home is 7th grade
home is running
home is coach lang
home is pickles for my history teacher
home is the river frio
home is camping
home is laughing
home is smiles
home is hide and go seek
home is confidence
home is childish blind love
home is not caring

home is home
home isn’t going anywhere
i would never return
home is smoke and smoke and mirrors
Abby Mar 2019
I'm ready for bonfires and lightning bugs
I'm ready for smores and stargazing
I'm ready for baseball games and car rides
I'm ready for porch swings and lemonde
Summer, please don't stay away for to long
We miss you
I'm getting so sick of cold weather

— The End —