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Muggle Ginger
A human raised by humans.
Ginger Gray
I write until I have no words. I take pictures until I can no longer perceive reality. I play my guitar until my fingers bleed. …
the ginger bread man
iceland    hi. im jake. i will try to make your day better. i love unicycling, devilsticking, poi, stilt walking, and cello. and..... yea.

Poems

Paul Celano Jun 2010
On his body is a ginger bread thong
To soften you up he sings a sweet sugar song
If you hit on him he’ll play along

He’s the **** ginger bread man

He’ll ****** you with candy wine
On a scale from 1-10 he is a 9
Girls look at him and say, “He’s so fine”

He’s the **** ginger bread man

On his face are peanut butter eyes
He has powdered sugar on his manly thighs
He will reel you in with his seductive lies

He’s the **** ginger bread man

On this neck is a chain of candy
Around the house he can be handy
If you add frosting he can be pretty randy

He’s the **** ginger bread man

Out of the batch he is the pick
He has a giant ginger breadstick
It has rainbow sprinkles on it

He’s the **** ginger bread man

You bite the chain and swallow the thong
Eat the stick which is very long
You gobble him up till he’s all gone

NO MORE **** ginger bread man
©2002 Paul Celano
Jane Doe Aug 2016
I have been listening to terrible poems all day because you don’t deserve a good one.
You don’t deserve the spit that hailed the ground from my mouth when I screamed about pride and privilege you do not deserve the ground that I stamped on, hollow breaths escaping a tiny mouth.
You thought you were helping me to get louder but I have lost so many voices since I heard you scream.
You do not deserve to look at me! I am going to be so much better because I left you, you do not deserve to think about the way we used to be, you do not deserve to miss me because if you did I would not be writing this about you.
Instead of miles would be mere meters between us. Our ginger hair would still be tangled in the morning light, your body breathing beneath mine.
If you deserved to love me, you wouldn’t have loved her. You wouldn’t have let her slip her fingers around the cracks in the foundation of our house and hold you.
If you deserved to miss me you wouldn’t have kissed her, you would have told me about her the moment you got home, still dripping with sweat still casting off bets still letting me call you my best friend and lover, you shouldn’t have loved her. You shouldn’t have loved her.
But you did. Dear ginger, did you taste her? Did her sweat linger on your naked body like the shame that should have lead you to tell me. Did the courage it took to take her body wash down with the rain while you walked home. Did you feel any pain? Dear ginger, when you knew we were over – when we felt it like the fog which covered the rental car as we inched closer to home, why did you let me feel so alone? At what point did you not recognize me as the person you swore to protect? Dear ginger, when did I become a stranger, when did I become someone you wanted to hurt? At what point did you start taking dating advice from my abuser?
Dear ginger why didn’t you just leave me? Dear ginger the ***** were always in your court. Except when they were in her mouth. Dear ginger, did you stop her from ******* you off or was that a lie too. I don’t actually know anything about you? I’m sorry am I being unfair? Dear ginger did she run her fingers through your hair? At any point during the two encounters did you maybe think that, while you were inside her. “Huh. Maybe I shouldn’t ******* cheat on my partner!?”
I must be over this, because I’m laughing about it. I must be over this because I’m bringing up good jokes, or maybe that’s just how I cope with a situation as ridiculous as this one. In truth, I’m just done.
I wrote a poem about you called plan bee, about a bumblebee who was too fat to fly. It was wordy, I was nervous because I had never written a poem about someone I loved before. After I read it to you we cried together and made love on the ***** kitchen floor. You made me feel like a small puppy, I was always excited to see you. Even lately I’ve been catching my breath when I met you on the street and when our eyes meet I want to believe that you’re the person I could trust and I’m your little bumble bee. But you don’t deserve to see me, and you don’t deserve to make me happy.
Asha Nicole Jun 2012
Ginger twine wrapped tightly round his finger.
A slight smile across his even tighter lips.
Wound around his liquid thoughts
His twiney figers grasp the drinking glass
filled to the brim with sweet, sweet ice tea
Its rich brown shade mocking the color of the sky

It is here, in this place, where lemon lovers meet
You easily pinpoint the kind of souls they carry,
Simply by the shade of their sweet iced tea
And they carry that ginger twine, tightly wound
They carry that coil everywhere they go

Many ask if it is a symbol, or subliminally literal?
A invitation, or a silent and quiet warning?
But its just that ginger twine and sweet ice tea
I too, carry them everywhere with me
Golden in the sun, red in the mid-light
Circular and quite rough with deep rouge ridges
they're placebos of purpose simply right, simply true

If you wish to comprehend,shutdown all distraction
Then you will be here now and here you will stay
Humbly accept your ginger twine and ice tea
for that, my friend, is exactly happened to be me
and the way every sip slides down my thought
It tastes of determination, solitude, and hope
Oh how I love that ginger twine and sweet ice tea

Ginger twine wrapped tightly round her finger.
A slight smile across her even tighter lips.
Wound around her liquid thoughts
Her twiney figers grasp the drinking glass
filled to the brim with sweet, sweet ice tea
her rich brown shade mocking the color of the sky


Ginger Twine and Sweet Ice Tea
Wrapped tightly around me