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Arcassin B Oct 2014
By Arcassinburnham





Spoon full,
Going in and out your mouth,
****** feelings,
Gooey as sour crout,
Love  the country,
Like you don't miss the city,
But getting mushy,
When your too pretty,
Going away,
When the summer ends,
Consideration to make you stay,
But my lungs in my chest won't bound again,
Make you say,
My name three times like Beatle juice,
Don't get carried away,
Cause I'm loving you,

Cheesecake,
Cheesecake,
Thats the only I think about,
When it was you,
Cheesecake,
Cheesecake,
Thats the only I think about,
When it was you,
Cheesecake,
Cheesecake,
Thats the only I think about,
When it was you,
Cheesecake,
Cheesecake,
Thats the only I think about,
When it was you.
I
Amee Oct 2014
I look to the left, I look to the right
A smell pulls me to a cafe inside
Aware that I'm tired 'cause day's been long
There's nothing more for today to go wrong
I pull a chair to sit with pride

I look to the left, I look to the right
I want, I want, I want something sweet this night
People sitting, chit chatting amidst a loud song
Where else would I rather tonight belong
Waiter brings the menu, I start to read and recite

I look to the left, I look to the right
Brain wants the taste of appealing yellow bright
Yummy for my tummy, baked with crumbles
Run through the gourmet wondering where I'd stumble
Has to be creamy, textured, a heavy slice of delight

I look to the left, I look to the right
He sat by me, "Cheesecake!", he cried
It's shiny, it's delicious, it's lemon, it's moist
Cheesecake it is! There's no question of diet
Why did I not choose this first, right?

He looks to the left, I look to the right
Slides his friendly arm around, I stared back all surprised
Waiter "Here's Lemon cheesecake with crumbles white"
Put a seal of approval? Yes, we might!

We could stare at each other forever alright,
But we'd rather prefer cheesecake; to infinite
For bigger and bigger bite we fight,
As we realise this is our bestest night,
Indulged in smoothness, to heaven we confide
Nessie  Aug 2011
cheesecake.
Nessie Aug 2011
I am eating the cheesecake

its late

its creamy

your gone

and my anger is pent up in agonizing frustration

We had a fight

the causes unknown

the intentions secret

So I take it out on the cheesecake

the creamy sensation has been on my side

for years

more than I can say for you

were back in this endless spiral

the one that leads me to crying on the sofa

that smells of your cigarettes

eating the cheesecake,  watching emcommericals

I have wasted my life on you

and I waste this night day

trying to piece myself together

with goey strawberries and sweet pie crust

I have joined women all over the world

I've had quite enough

I'm full

Thank-you
the lady has me temporarily off the bottle
and now the pecker stands up
better.
however, things change overnight--
instead of listening to Shostakovich and
Mozart through a smeared haze of smoke
the nights change, new
complexities:
we drive to Baskin-Robbins,
31 flavors:
Rocky Road, Bubble Gum, Apricot Ice, Strawberry
Cheesecake, Chocolate Mint...

we park outside and look at icecream
people
a very healthy and satisfied people,
nary a potential suicide in sight
(they probably even vote)
and I tell her
"what if the boys saw me go in there? suppose they
find out I'm going in for a walnut peach sundae?"
"come on, chicken," she laughs and we go in
and stand with the icecream people.
none of them are cursing or threatening
the clerks.
there seem to be no hangovers or
grievances.
I am alarmed at the placid and calm wave
that flows about. I feel like a ***** in a
beauty contest. we finally get our sundaes and
sit in the car and eat them.

I must admit they are quite good. a curious new
world. (all my friends tell me I am looking
better. "you're looking good, man, we thought you
were going to die there for a while...")
--those 4,500 dark nights, the jails, the
hospitals...

and later that night
there is use for the pecker, use for
love, and it is glorious,
long and true,
and afterwards we speak of easy things;
our heads by the open window with the moonlight
looking through, we sleep in each other's
arms.

the icecream people make me feel good,
inside and out.
Thy Dang Apr 2016
Cheesecake,
o’ Cheesecake.
I can still remember
the day you were born.
But how sad it was,
since your life only lasted for a couple of minutes
because
I ate you right away.

Your delicious fragrance,
arose
from your mom’s tummy, which was named
The Oven.
Your skin got tanner, and tanner
as your body grew;
luckily, you
were not overcooked.
I waited
for the moment you came out
and it was
magic.

Your stunning golden skin,
so tanned
and ****.
I turned out being a beast
and you were the beauty
who caught my eyes
without a second delayed.
And the perfume you wore that day
smelled beautiful, too,
as if I would bite you
with hunger.

Mmm’ creamy flesh
with cheesy flavour,
spread in my mouth
every bit of yours.

You gave me a dilemma, since
I wanted you to live
for me
to embrace your beauty;
I wanted you to die
in my mouth
with satisfaction.
Your splendid funeral
in my stomach
was as great as many others’.

Don’t be sad
for leaving me soon
don’t regret
dying young.
I love you
and
I’m sure
one day soon you
will reincarnate
as another
Cheesecake baby.
Thomas W Case Jan 2021
Often, when I'm on the
streets, decaying in *****-
degradation of the soul,
I go under the bridge and watch
the ducks.
Sometimes I talk to them.
They don't talk back.
Some days, it's the only
beauty I can see.
I think and dream of
a different world.
A land without
brutal lunacy.
I can handle madness.
It's the wicked,
smiling hatred that I
can do without.
The Iowa River beckons
me to come swim-
float blissfully to heaven.
But I know better.
Katie and Perry drowned not
far from where I sat.
It's usually at this time that
I'm fresh out of bread for
the ducks and I have milked the *****
bottle for all it's worth, that a
warm blanket of a thought comes to
me- I need help- go to the hospital.
I stumble my way there,
sometimes by ambulance.
I go through nightmarish withdrawals.
At around the third day, I get a
laptop from the patient library.
I catch up with neglected family
and friends, then I try to write.
The first four days, my mind is
like a smashed snail.
But usually, the magic comes back.
The muse kisses me gently, and I
put the shaking pen to the paper.
I can order whatever food I
want between 6 am and 8 pm.
I discovered years ago that they
have phenomenal cheesecake.
So when I'm able to eat, it's the
first thing I order.
My withdrawals are deadly.
Diastolic blood pressure
numbers like 103,109.113.
So they give me Ativan.
It helps tremendously- Ativan and cheesecake.
**** the muse's ****, then more
Ativan and cheesecake.
If I'm lucky, I'll turn out a
poem or two-like this one right now.
Brandon  Oct 2011
Cheesecake
Brandon Oct 2011
I sit at the booth,
Thinking to myself,
**** restaurants that don’t have a television
Making me listen to insipid conversations
The kind that only in-laws seem to be able to speak

The fumbling and stumbling over topics and
Phrases repeated without any real meaning
Thought or understanding

I stare off into space and nurse my whiskey
But even it won’t fully drown out
Their side effects

“I’ll have the cheesecake,”
I hear one of them say

“Burger extra rare,”
The other hurriedly offers up to our waiter,

Our waiter
Fresh out of high school
Oozing pimples down the pores of his ***-marked face
Uniform stretched taut against his bulging stomach
Exposing crater like outline of his belly button

I wish that I could be the waiter
I envy the waiter
He gets to walk away from this table
And away from a flowing sea
Of faltering words

Someone’s talking to me
Asking if I’m keeping up on the OSU football drama

But I don’t hear them,
I’m too busy studying the Egyptian architecture
And wondering what it has to do
With the Cheesecake Factory

My wife kicks me
Bringing me back into this dreary reality
Telling me to answer the question

“No, I haven’t,” I say
As they began awkwardly telling me about it

I signal our waiter and ask for another whiskey

It’s going to be a long dinner tonight
howard brace Sep 2012
He'd been conceived in Flamborough, so his little sister assured him some eleven summers ago, which was a tad hard for Rocky to swallow, she was a whole eighteen months his junior and then some... and at that age, well... what did she know, she was only a kid, "on this very rock" River insisted, kicking her heels in delight, "next to this very rock pool" they were both sitting beside, "one sunny afternoon eleven years ago..." and that was how he came by the name of Rocky... she taunted as the rest of the colourful story unfolded... and that she had it all on the best possible authority... although the more she thought about it, had she meant concealed... she wasn't quite sure now, it was all so very confusing at her tender age but thought it sounded close enough not to matter too much and that she would just wait and see which way the wind blew.
        
     It was conceivably an ill wind that blew no one any good that day, especially if you were a boy and just happened to be sat by a rock pool next to your little sister...  Having just taken a well earned drink from a neighbouring rock pool, Sockeye the floppiest Springer Spaniel this side of the Pecos decided that he was going to dig a hole and that he would be digging it deep, then changed his mind mid-dig and decided to have a more down to earth back scratching wriggle instead... then promptly flopped over and slid into the hole... life was sweet.  Now covered from nose to tail with every species of deceased shore life usually found frequenting the high water mark Sockeye, in a blinding flash of canine inspiration judged it would be in everyone's best interest were he to have a really good shakedown which always appeared to go down well on these occasions... and give everyone a good peppering, just so they could see exactly what they'd been missing all their lives.  

     "A rock of all places, for goodness sakes..." and what's more, it was this rock, "Yuk..." he jumped up and wiped his palms on the back of his jeans in disgust, then onto his tee-shirt, then sat back down again and began exploring his left nostril in quiet contemplation before finally jambing his hands back into his pockets... what in Heaven's name had his parents been thinking of..? what on earth was his little sister talking about..? and more to the point, what in fact did conceived mean..?  these were the questions that were uppermost in Rocky's mind as he poked an exploratory stick into the rock pool...  a baby crab marooned by the tide scampered sideways beneath a large pebble and stuck one beady eye out at him... Rocky's sister, seemingly in a world of her own, much like the baby crab sat on the edge of the noteworthy rock kicking her heels, an innocent smile curled the corners of her mouth as she quietly hummed a little song of tuneful bliss to herself and considered what further mischief she could possibly pass her brother's way.

     Rocky tossed a piece of driftwood over his sisters shoulder at a nearby flock of seagulls, squabbling over what appeared to be a discarded bag of fish and chips... Sockeye, simply knowing that his little master wanted to play a game of fetch gambolled after the stick, his ears flying courageously in the still Summer air and burst, amid a melee of feathers into their midst, only to romp back moments later, the stick all but forgotten in the excitement but now proudly sporting the derelict bag of leftovers and the odd splash of guano, his tail lolloping magnificently from side to side... and for the moment at least, leaving the fratching seagulls wheeling noisily overhead and to go about their daily business without further interruption... as for Sockeye, it had been a no contest situation.

     After fourteen years of valiant endeavour his father... Red, so named for his vivid shock of wiry hair, was still engaged in man's eternal struggle to win his significant other half's approbation with the manful art of deck-chair assembly, beach barbeque and other significant gentlemanly pursuits, all while strutting his manly stuff, sporting top of the range beach wear in accordance with the social etiquette of the previous decade... his masculine paunch slumping gallantly atop his waistband...  

     After the same fourteen terms of domestic servitude and the same thirteen identically overlooked anniversary cards a certain someone had no intention of allowing another certain someone to forget so much as one of them... his better half, so she insisted would ride rough shod, administering her own brand of justice at every given opportunity, in much the same way you'd brandish a royal-flush on poker night... or better still, a loaded revolver... and that she personally carried the burden of every ill-fated card that Lady Luck had dealt strung about her neck like Adam's original sin on Judgement Day.  

     Red much preferred the shorter, more condensed name of Rock for his son, rather than the longer more protracted Rocky, as he struggled with the wood and canvas lounger badly trapping the mound of his thumb in the process, "Aaargh...!!!" plunging his throbbing hand deep into the cold, soothing rock-pool "aaah...!!!"   Still marooned by the tide, the baby crab stood poised and ready for action as it considered giving this latest intrusion a good offensive nip, then hang on spitefully as it gave Red the final withering once over with the same baleful eye it had successfully used earlier.

     Acknowledging her husbands misfortune with a perfunctory grunt as she rummaged in her beach-bag for the thermos, she refused to be drawn in where thumbs were concerned right now, after all with his DNA sequencing she was convinced he could probably grow a new one within the month... whilst Tina, well... she was just plain worn-out... but still rejoiced in telling anyone who cared to lend a sympathetic ear in her direction... and who in turn was more than happy to listen to the woes of others and went somewhere along the lines of... 'and had she heard any more of poor Mrs Dorey's lingering martyrdom recently..? you know, the downtrodden lady who lives in the next street but one... and how they would all miss her when she was gone... and how she couldn't wait...' and as rumour had it, neither could her husband...

      Feigning to be otherwise engaged, Tina... as her husband, now blowing frantically on his mangled thumb, stumbled backwards over the half erected lounger and with a spine jarring "Ooomph...!!!" landed squarely in Sockeye's subsiding earthworks... professed total disassociation with the entire fiasco as she plunged her nose even deeper into the overdue library book she'd purposely brought on holiday for just such an occasion, making it perfectly clear that she was a tourist and furthermore, planned to stick with the same itinerary once they returned home... and that while she was here, she did not under any circumstances wish to be disturbed, the notice was clearly displayed hanging from the door handle... but if anyone should, then whoever it was did so at their own peril... and she was keeping score... although a mangled thumb she luxuriated, with the same roguish smile curling the corners of her mouth as the one normally found playing around her daughter's... was equally as heart warming.

      All Tina wanted was one week of uninterrupted peace and quiet in Flamborough, preferably with a certain someone out from under her feet then spend what might pass for several undisturbed hours sitting quietly by the rock pool comparing notes on eye makeup and the feminine merits of pedicure with the little crab who, still marooned by the tide was now sat busily knitting four pairs of matching leg warmers in the cool, still water but that was only if that certain someone... a shrill  "AAaargh...!!!" somewhat more desperate than the first, ****** itself upon the as yet unaggressive afternoon as it gyrated across the warm Jurrasic rock and recoiled out to sea... "now where was I", twisting her book uppermost "oh yes..! someone was going to pay..." only now it was going to be sooner rather than later, but only if that certain someone didn't finish the seating arrangements before the Sun disappeared and drift into some backstreet tea-room before all the lemon cheesecake sold out, or was that she reflected, simply too much to ask.

     It was his Surname that Rock found so objectionable, or it had been right up until his little sister's enlightening disclosure, now it was both names Rocky disliked, it would have been far kinder had Rock Salmon been sandwiched between sliced bread and given to Sockeye... who's solemn duty, from the first mouthful to the very last, was to gaze up beseechingly from beneath the kitchen table  and devour anything that passed his way, even the postman had to be quick about his business or have his arm follow the mail through the letter box... then Sockeye would just smack his lips and help himself to seconds.  

     All Rocky's mum had thought about for the last fourteen years was seconds... every last solitary one of them since she'd suffered with an infection of matrimonial neurosis which had deprived her of common sense and her maiden name, from Chovey to that of Salmon and how with hindsight she should have taken an Aspirin instead, wedlock she asserted was everything the name claimed to be and was without doubt the worst move she'd ever made... and what's more was seen as a bad move in whoever's wedding album you just happened to be paying your condolences to.

     Rocky would never be so fortunate on that score, unlike his sister he was stuck with Salmon for good, his grandma-Ann by all accounts had been dead set against the union from word Go and saw his father as someone who would always be out of his depth in whatever rock pool he found himself in, swimming against the tide as it were, rather than going with the flow... and it appeared that Rocky, almost eleven years into a life sentence, was about to flounder in the same murky undertow as the rest of the Salmon family... only he couldn't swim.

     "There"! her husband exclaimed "all finished... better late than never eh', who fancies trying it"? his wife luxuriated over the words 'better late' and wondered whether her new earrings, her latest acquisition would complement formal mourning attire.  Red dusted off the palms of his hands with the certain knowledge of a job well done and cautiously took one step back, looking with justifiable pride at the outcome of his manly exertions of the last two hours, this was what holidays were all about he declared, one man pitted against insurmountable odds...  His wife meanwhile was getting to grips with more odds of her own than you could safely expect to shake a stick at... her husband being one of them.  

     Having gathered her offspring with the promise of verbal earache if they didn't... and finished packing the beach-bag, Tina finally located Sockeye peering out from the shade of an adjacent rock, wisps of feathers poked tellingly from the corners of his mouth, his tail beating mischievously on the shingle decided in one further blaze of canine brainstorming, as Tina attempted to slip his collar on that a game of tag would just about round the day off nicely... Tina then devoted the next ten minutes chasing him amid unrestrained salvo's of cheering from the rest of the family... then bid goodbye to the little crab who, still marooned by the tide waved a friendly pincer in return... and trusted that she wouldn't have too long to wait for the next rising tide back home, then she slid off the rock with a corrosive... "the deck-chair attendant would have shown you" she snapped "and don't forget the deposit when you take them back" then double checking that she landed squarely on his foot she marched past, her floral sun hat jammed resolutely on her head at what she considered a jaunty angle with her equally jaunty, angular children scrambling in hot pursuit, back in the direction of their lodgings.  

     "Woof "..? said a bewildered Sockeye, bringing everyone to an abrupt halt... and with paws the size of place-mats, he wasn't going anywhere he didn't want to... he hunkered down with a look of hurtful accusation on his face, "oh yes you are my lad"! said his mistress "I've met your sort before" and knew exactly where to place the toe of her dainty size-5 as Sockeye, digging his heals in even further created swathes of canine furrows up the beach, leaving her husband the unwitting holder and in sole possession of the overlooked guest-house keys... and somewhat resigned to clean up his own masculinity and dismantle the recently assembled, now redundant deck-chairs by himself... as for Tina, well... she'd had quite enough excitement for one day thank you very much.

     Morning register was always the worst he thought, as they trooped back along the shingle beach, Rocky making surprisingly good furrows of his own... but the rest of the class loved it and saw it as the highlight of each day... Rocky's form teacher, despite showing a brave face was always hard pressed to avoid bursting into hysterics every time she worked her way down the register to the letter 'S' and would attempt to bypass it altogether, jumping from 'R' to 'T' and just prayed that no one else had noticed, but it hadn't taken the class very long to point out her oversight and... "please Miss" they'd all chant "we haven't had Salmon all week" and while the rest of the class were having convulsive fits, Rocky would elbow the lad sat at the next desk in the ribs... and promptly get one hundred lines for his trouble... thank goodness it was school holidays.  Why couldn't they have been given respectable names like Seymour Legge, Rock wondered, who sat over by the window or perhaps the teachers pet, Anna Prentice or even, Robyn Banks at a pinch, but definitely not what they'd been given and certainly not Salmon, they were the most hilarious names he could imagine and if someone was looking down on them right now he thought... then they had a very unique sense of humour indeed and Rock said so... "why" his little sister asked sweetly, "what's wrong with River Salmon".

                                                      ­                         ...   ...   ...*

a work in progress*                                                        ­                                                              240­6
Thomas W Case Mar 2020
I can't count how many times
I've been to the hospital to D-Tox.
she was there by my side.
I turned her on to the cheesecake
and yogurt berry parfait.
It was a plain yogurt with
fresh black berries, raspberries, strawberries,
and blue berries.
It was amazing--it still is.
We'd stir up the parfait and pour
it on the cheesecake.
It was divine.

I sit here and eat it alone tonight.
The berries explode when I put
them in my mouth and chew on them.
It's like food for the Greek gods.
An ambrosia for the brokenhearted.

I think of her as the little blueberries
roll around on my tongue.
It's all so creamy and succulent.
But, I still sit lonely and eat our poetic
yogurt berry magic and cheesecake.
And each berry stores a memory in
every luscious bite.
I feel desolate that
she isn't here,
with that juicy purple
liquid running down
her chin.
'stiltskin Nov 2014
Compliments to the baker
and so too my Barista
Smoothest crema on the tongue
juxtapose to lemon vapour.

Intense acute sensations
insist I close my eyes
Submit in rare humility
in awe of nature's true franchise.

Clarion note of citron zest
resounds on mellow creamy seas
Mediterranean sun distilled
now is witnessed here in me.

Tempered, rounded bitter hues
from Amazonian dark recess
waited aeons to infuse
and bring about this wanton bliss.
Stephan Jun 2016
.

Take this, this poem
with torn, tattered edges
Stuff it in pockets
of jeans faded blue
Tell all the people
who teeter on ledges
Nothing is worse
if you have not a clue

Shatter this pen
flowing ink made of fire
Charring the castles
where dragon wings fly
Fanning the flames
that a sad heart has started
When every stanza
now ends in goodbye

Fracture the vase
that once sat in the window
Emerald green
with a chardonnay shine
Toss me the shards
till you see I am bleeding
Now have some cheesecake,
a nice glass of wine

Bury these dreams
so they fade in the morning
Hidden from sunlight
and coated in dew
Roll out the leaves
in the cover of autumn
Springtime for me
is now long overdue

— The End —