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Anais Vionet Dec 2020
Sorry, mom says I can’t
kiss you - even with grape,
Lysol, safety lipstick  =/

Harsh pandemic facts
and parents stand against us.
What a hazardous waste!
toxins dampen endorphins passions - lets face it, it's simply not going to happen  =/
Anais Vionet Dec 2020
(Senryus)

I've never had a
new years kiss, or an under
the mistletoe kiss.

But I have had
Hersey's kisses - which I think
are spectacular!
There are so many holiday treats - has anyone enjoyed them ALL?
Anais Vionet Dec 2020
(Senryus about crushes)

I'd never say to
a guy "Oh, and by the way,
have a crush on you."

I'd never stalk my
crush on the Internet - that's
what our friends are for.

Never let a guy
treat you like licorice - you're
a red gummy bear.
Crush: an intense infatuation for someone unattainable or inappropriate.
Anais Vionet Dec 2020
(A Senryu poem)

Oh Cupid, God of
desire & ****** love, please,
next time hit us both.
Attractions can be hit or miss
Anais Vionet Dec 2020
I’m under the Christmas tree like a present,
yeah, to rifle packages with my name on them,
but I’m caught, transfixed, looking up through the shrine
forgetting myself in delight at this multi-color heaven.

I’ve never lost my wonder at fulgid Christmas lights -
driving around gawking at decorations half the night.
If only the world could stay like this - but we can’t
sustain rhapsody - we can only trespass on bliss.

Merry Christmas Everyone!
Merry Christmas Everyone!
Anais Vionet Dec 2020
I thought I knew the sun.
I thought I had it tamed.

When it looked dim and weak,
I’d just blow on the flames.

But now my faith is shaken -
perhaps I was mistaken.

It seems the sun has ghosted me.
I miss those rays that roasted me.
Winter has begun and now I miss the sun
Anais Vionet Dec 2020
I have several toxic habits - I know - because I read this article on the web.
It’s a miracle I’m not an axe murderer, based on what the experts said.

I use “should” biased judgements - when things go amiss.
I think about the future, when settling down to rest.
I obsess on defining the “best part” in each of my experiences.
I often think in poetic terms  - which has driven wise men delirious.
I have nova bursts of interest - which escalate into crushes.
I keep a mental list of incidents which, if left unmanaged, lead to grudges.

The flaws go on and on - God, I simply am a mess.
I need to face my many flaws so that they might be addressed.

Do you think anyone is ever perfect?
Is it like playing whack-a-mole?

So that no one ever ends up perfect - they simply end up old?
It's hard sometimes to recognize my own faults - they're like blind-spots.
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