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Genna Peterson  Mar 2013
Squishy
Genna Peterson Mar 2013
I often begin my poems right here
directly inside of this box
this "body"
and I think that it's really the only way
to put out things I like
It's fresh and raw
and a little bit squishy
but that's okay
some people really like squishy
here I am in this squishy little body
this raw poetry
the only time I will ever like this poem
is when I can still feel the salt
crusting over on my squishy cheeks
and I've never found it so difficult
to type out the word "squishy"
so many times in a row
my face feels so crusty
but at least it will taste nice
to a passerby who may happen to lick it
I often regret poems
but this one is squishy
and some people like squishy
so I guess I like squishy.
zebra Apr 2017
i'm your o so wanna be lover
I'm afraid not what you would expect though
i admit to being a difficult pleasure
perhaps
a tad strange looking
squishy with long tentacles
half man half octopus
with a winking cycloptic eye

i entreat you
looks can be deceiving
how many pretty boys have you loved
crawling worms for a soul
that have left you a ruined creel
a jagged cry chattering tears of desolation

have you ever asked your self
who adores you
who would give all to protect love and cherish
i'm waving my eight arms at you
from the center of the universe
i eat black holes to kiss your ***
am i not a cosmic horror
with my big Cthulhu smile
quivering with tenderness

do you hunger for butter **** lollypop
i have two big **** heartbreakers
with teardrop curves
a feast for your two ravenous holes of emptiness
and many armed tentacles to hold you tight
to slither all over your tender woven caves
to pull you into me
with suckers that thrill
during swirling inky *****

i will unravel your mind
your soul tilthed
if you can get passed
my
gray rubbery boneless head

i can push this shape-shifting balloon face
through your annul tubular contours
all the way up your beautiful ***
licking
salivating
tickling into your
tender bowel and throat
like a great dancing tongue
a stretched waving goodness
entering your mouth from the back side

can pretty pretty do that?

come slowly unto me my beloved
i am all chromatophores
endless glittering nightlights
incandescent
so we may wander our way through long dim nights ******
in the deep deep dark
with tentacle ***** galore
an infinity of entertainment
for every crevice and desire
and one winking cycloptic eye
that pierces your soul
Deb Jones Aug 2018
Once a man asked me back
To his home for after dinner drinks.
I was comfortable with that.
We had went to dinner several times.
I drove my car and followed him.  
We talked for about 30 minutes or so
And I excused myself and went to powder my nose, carrying my handbag.
I was out of the room about 4 minutes.
When I returned he was naked.
He had placed a metal folding chair
In the center of his well lit dining room.
I know my eyes were as big as saucers.
I remember thinking
“This escalated fast”
Doing a pantomime he held up a latex object that looked like a decanter stopper. Oversized. And upside down.
He waved his hand under it as part of his presentation.
Think of a stewardess doing the pantomime of flight safety rules,
Or QVC seller on television.
He then set the item on the metal chair and sat right down on it with an odd
squishy-sucky noise.
Up until that point
I had not moved an inch.  
I am pretty much open minded about ***.
But the whole situation and the mime-like presentation was so much ick I panicked.
I ran out the back door.
I didn’t say a word.
Just ran.
He obviously couldn’t follow me quickly because you know....
He had something up his ****.
If this topic is too much or over the top I will be perfectly ok with deleting it.
Cunning Linguist Aug 2015
Through a crowd
of homeless Vietnam war vets
Betcha I'm textin looking for more ***
From ****** galore
Open the back door and explore

Wreck that ***** (then I'm on to the next)
Next level ****, I'm on one at best
Deftly slip a little in your sister's sip
Now I'm caressing her *******
Hoping and praying my conquest ends with ******!
Yes, I confess I'm grotesque,
but I have finesse
I play that ***** like a game of chess

Bare witness -
I only ***** with the fattest of *******
Robbed a ******'s V-card
Now I'm charged with theft

I'm possessed and I have Tourette's
Ingested some drugs at the playground
Now I'm getting undressed
Digest my suggestive rhymes
I'm just a poor kid repressed
Manifest my pervertedness
My mind is a mess,
a nest
of enmeshed ******

And I obsess for excesses of distastefulness

It's disgraceful
My biracial angel
When I go directly from **** to ******
- In the blink of an eye
My *** game is fatal
Robbing the cradle & writing fables simultaneously
Screaming banzai!
Whilst I swan dive
straight into your ***** hole
& disable it

I'm insatiable,
Your mind is impregnable
Cause the impeccable mental images
I paint aren't erasable
Incomprehensible and intangible
Yet undeniable, I'm a despicable imbecile
Gazing in the peephole
Took a blindfolded stroll
down ***** lane and I'm on patrol
for an ocean of blowholes hundredfold

At the club so I dropped a bunch of Ecstasy
Take my shirt off so the ******* can all laugh at me
Tryna get the best of me
So I spite them out of jealousy
And absently drift away
through my mind to pornographic fantasy
My rhapsodic masterpiece
A mental form of ******
Getting busy in the squishy
til I'm dizzy in the hizzy
Swag, I do it valiantly

Turn it up this my jam
~Little ditty, bout jackin Diane~
Still a pity, too bad she's a man
Greasy ***** slap your eggs on my ham
If you'd prefer,
I might lend you a hand
Ram bam
bite the pillow I'm coming in dry
Don't be shy
Turn down for why
Either way have you in chains
by the end of the night

I'm a nemesis
***** slapping feminists
For emphasis
Hit em with a left fist
catching equal rights and ****
Yes I reek of cannabis
Can't handle bars I spit
Snide *******,
blame it on my pride and prejudice... ugh

I'm just a ******* egotist
An unrepentant hedonist
Check out Cunning Linguist
He da hypnotistic lyricist
This is my hypothesis
Maybe I'm just a nihilist
Detonating bombs
Catch me on the terrorist watchlist
Yes my words are devastating
But in your mind are resonating
Penetrating brains til it all begins disintegrating

I'm plastered
Falling over backwards
Mental state is fractured
Now watch me while I stagger
Tell your mother run for cover
Finna kidnap her


Pop pop
Got this **** on lock
Seeing double vision
Catch me jizzin in my sock

Steady speaking nonsense
Nearly unconscious
Bailing from the cops man
Too much Dwayne Johnson
***** have the nerve to call me obtuse
I be that Mr. got ***** the size of grapefruits
People, they just ain't all golden, not at all.
Not even silver, magnesium or copper.
Maybe zinc, because it tastes like ink and it does your body good,
but you never get enough, even though you know you should.
But had I the means, and the ends were understood,
would I be zinc? Would I carry the common good?
Would I feign precious metal? Or am I nothing but wood?
I met today aluminum, he said, "I'm bad luck."
"I know it," I said, "You're out of your element."
"My melting point is 660.2°C!"
I told him my name was Kristian Huselius,
but that turned into a testament.
"You're just lucky you aren't a duck," he said.
"Maybe, but I find I've got too much will."
"You can't spread will on bread, my friend,"
he said, much to my Brazil,
"but lucky for you they make contraceptives in pills."
I didn't want children anyway, but when Boron arrived,
I was feeling less than sublime.
Boron said, "My name rhymes with '*****'!"
"No kidding, Boron," I replied.
"I can come in both the dark crystal and brown powder variety!"
"That may or may not be true," said Aluminum,
"but at least I benefit society."
Oh, yeah, he said it, he went there.
"I value correctness and propriety!" Boron shrieked.
"And you can be flimsy, squishy, and weak!"
I wanted no part in this, so I meandered.
Not too long after, I met Helium.
I told him my name was Carlton Deandre.
"I don't believe you, mealworm," he bombasted.
"You're gaseous," I said, "I wouldn't put it past ya."
Kaitlin Collide Nov 2015
I touched a flower in my pocket..
Picked it up, and promptly dropped it.
It's bulbous, squishy, and it's sopping.
I was afraid of what it was.

I took a closer look at its mutant colors;
Squinted at it for a second 'nother.
It felt like death, it felt like butter;
'Twas merely the head of a rose.

I sighed out the panic that had rushed inside me.
While sadness-stricken, serendipity survived thee.
The mere smell of that rose, nostalgic and lively
Wrapped around me and extracted my pain

Such a simple notion made such a difference.
I shall thank the friend by whom it was given;
He'll never understand the powerful significance.
That flower saved my night.
True story, true series of events
Steve  Jul 2016
Squishy Fish 071
Steve Jul 2016
A lobster, a mussel and a crab
We're swimming about having a gab
When said a jellyfish
"Do you know what I wish?
Maybe it's selfish?
But I wish I was a shellfish
You're all covered in shell
And as far as I can tell
Having a shell must be swell
I'm the sort of fish
People try to squish
That's why I wish
I was a shellfish
Like you guys"
"This may come as a surprise"
A crayfish said
"But it's not that wise
Don't be so hasty
At least you're not tasty
Because they turn us in to fish pies."

© Copyright SE July 2016
Ben Jones Feb 2013
One day
Woke up feeling randy
No one else was handy
What's to do?
Get dressed
Satisfy the horn
With badly acted ****
On pay per view
Hopes sink
Cable's on the blink
But twitter lends a helping hand
Bang, bang, come and have a *******
Gain entrance on demand

Have a *******
Come and have a *******
It's a *******
Come and have a *******

Went out
Followed the directions
Battling erections
All the while
Red cheeks
Granny at the bus stop
Let her vision drop
Then cracked a smile
Half four
Knocking at the door
It opens and a voice proclaims
"Bang, bang, come and have a *******
We've far too many dames"

The host was a sight to see
Not far over seventy
And wrapped in a silk dressing gown
I thought I would walk away
But saw that the sky was grey
And it star-
-ted *******
It down

Stepped in
Blinded by a deep gloom
Ushered to a dark room
Curtains shut
Deep breath
Air is old and musty
Carpet feeling crusty
Underfoot
Sprawled there
Women lying bare
And fellas with their organs free
Bang, bang, cover up your ****, ****
Regain your decency

Pretty *******
Pretty ****** *******
****** *******
Pretty ****** *******

Look round
Writhing on the ground
With squishy little sounds
But something's odd
Fat lass
Itching at her *** crack
Isn't that a *******?
Oh my god!
Jaw drops
Granny from the bus stop
Wearing nothing but a grin
Bang, bang, pretty ****** *******
What ******* let her in?

She's nothing but skin and bone
With ribs like a xylophone
At least several decades too old
To use the vernacular
It's like bumming Dracula
She's wiry
She's wizened
She's cold

Oh (pretty) no (******)
Rasping on my ****
With fingers like a sock
Filled up with ice
No (scary) chance (hairy)
Giving her the slip
My todger's in a grip
Just like a vice
It (saggy) seems (baggy)
Like she's in a dream
While scraping with her ancient hand
Bang, bang, ****** ****** *******
My sore and swollen gland

Granny bang bang
Granny granny *******
Granny *******
Granny ***** *******

Knock, knock
Coppers at the door
Go crawling on the floor
And off at speed
What fun
Looking at the punters
Myriad of munters
As they flee'd
Cold, wet
Drowning in regret
With trousers round my knees I stand
Bang bang ****** ****** *******
Next time I'll use my hand
Bang bang ****** ****** *******
Next time I'll use my haaaaaaaaaaaaaaand!
luna  Apr 2015
brain
luna Apr 2015
brain is lonely
wanting to just burst out of its shell
and show the world its potential  

brain is scared
what if world denies brains offer
because brain is so confidential

brain wants peace
inside its world wars never end
and words are as powerful as bombs

brain is now numb
all the explosions dull the physical pain
yet brain has forgotten how to feel calm

brain is a convincing actor
always knowing how to play its part
in every passing situation

brain does not like acting
instead brain wants to be fluffy cotton ball
not moist squishy thought deformation

brain wants sleep
to be able to shut off at appropriate times
and have enough energy to even try

brain is sad
never getting enough of anything
and sometimes brain considers to die
Tonya Cusick May 2013
It was squishy against my skull,
the green grape which was dull.
As it flung across the room and proceeded to zoom, zoom, zoom.
I was hit, forehead and on, with the grape that I survived from.
Hit by a grape.
Coop Lee  Apr 2014
underwear
Coop Lee Apr 2014
the only thing i can explain, is loving you.

the only thing is dreaming.
is feeling, that wheeled feeling of knowing what love was.

it started with an awkward hug.
it ended with an awkward hug.


i took you to the river. held your hand to the washed and out. breathed the smoke of your body into lungs of new days and danced to thoughts of escaping the empire with you forever. so forever. waited while you biked into far-fetched and distance places. american girl. beautiful creature. creature tessellating; growing; enhancing into a starry-stepped woman. i leaned on you, made you stumble to walk. now most days i stop myself from calling you. the space. the only thing that ever made me so dizzy, so good, was the space between us when truly together. close. utterly as one. wrote poems about you before i even met you, like a dream girl, like a premonition, which you were, a dream girl, a preconceived notion of one and only love. and there probably will be none other. none other. because i fell in love with you long before i even knew how to say it. never really knew how to say it. blurted it. bled it and yelled it and dreamt of it endlessly.


[still dream of it. endlessly.]


slow down, slow town, taking minutes. city of trees. city of good and bad and a little love that grew and bloomed and boomed before our eyes and died. and perhaps dead isn’t enough. reanimate. zombify. walk the dead. the dead and idaho life is american dreaming, drunk. us humans walking, texting, breathing, dancing. i would pinch your ***, smack your ***, so silly, so object, so mammalian and animal and bad on my part. sorry about that. but then again i loved your ***. still, sorry. you deserved more. deserve more. more to the picture. and i love your smile. your deep sweep of happiness. could devour me whole with just one laugh. and this is all so stupid, you probably hate me by now, somehow, seeing as you disappeared into thin air and here i am writing this bombast of love lost and still plan on sending it to you by mail or carrier-pigeon in hopes of simply expressing something. texas chainsaw massacre 2. totoro and the miniature crystal glands of rips or roars or sour patch sprinkles. burnt underwear. that stream of consciousness sweet beating block of love you ink-stamped to old paper with some kind of fierce spirit, just love, i love, and can’t help but love you so ******* much all over and over again, even if you broke my heart. the heart is strong that way. or i am simply doomed that way.


howling. howl. imbue. rimbaud. & urizen. kien. class, and when we skipped a day or two, once or twice, to make-out by the river. true beginnings. rock piles and bonobos.
my kind of woman.

you loved me before anybody loved me.
and i loved you, because there was no other way.
lost that somewhere. somehow.
life and days taken for granted.
and i’m the fool.
the stoner peeling off layers of clothing
as i prepare to be blood-sacrificed before the ancient ones.
while you are the girl.
the girl who made me forget what death is.
the girl with that last blunt.

                   new soul, spelled in crayola crème.
                   new summer, spoken then lived.

                   you were the love
                   of my life.
                   plucked my heart like
                   squishy fruit.

                   we once turned night
                   into paintings & poems,
                   particulates of
                   a golden time gone by.

— The End —