Atrisia Dec 2016

It's hard to believe eating an apple got us here sometimes

That the blame game was in that which Eve ate.
That the tasting with ones mouth has a direct link to seeing how naked one can be...

Until your lips fall on another's...

'Cause I blame you for the way I feel, dear.
I've never felt this emotionally bare..
Now I need you to cloth me with love..


Why apples are great for practicing kissing
Myriah Sep 2016

There's a chill in the air
it's sweater weather
autumn is here!
I'm going to do some
October things  
I wanna  jump in  in pile  of crisp leaves and
go apple picking
in the orchard
I can smell autumn
dancing in the breeze

A Santos Sep 2016

I take a bite
one, two, three
wishing i was snow white
please fall in love with me

but you love the beast
and i have to glue on a smile
wishing i was deceased
won't you consider me even for a while?

if i played dead
like snow white did
bit that apple so red
while my feelings stay hid

would you kiss me
even if you thought chances were nil?

when i wake and you set me free,
will you love the beast still?

JGuberman Aug 2016

Between the songs of the Nighthawk
and the Mourning Dove
the sound of apples beneath us
and sirens rushing  between
life and death,
we lay together in the darkness
like two blind people reading love poetry.

Knit Personality Aug 2016

Pickin’ apples off the tree:
that’s me,
ya see,
writin’ poetry
about all things Autumn.
I look for the ripest reds,
those ruddy red-heads
that caught ’em
a stubborn
a sunny summery September afternoon,
when the white horn of the moon
was floating by
in the sea-deep deep-blue sky.
I pluck ’em
and plunk ’em
into a barrel
while singing a carol
to Autumn.

Pickin’ apples off the tree:
that’s me,
ya see,
tryna be Keatsy.
But it defeats me:
I try at it
but die at it.

If apples were pears
And peaches were plums
And the rose had a different name.

If tigers were bears
And fingers were thumb,
I'd love you just the same.

Montana Svoboda Apr 2016

For plentiful to you
Blushing red
Cheeks swelling
Hiding skin under letters typed individually,
Fearing recovery
Masquerading aimless as bluestone avenues
Shoes tied to tree branches
Diluted water bottles buried beneath lily beds,
Traded chest cavities
Arranged red bouquets
Gave funerals to traffic accidents
Bumps in the road
Stopping midnight fog bright
Postmortem accolades awarded
Mostly still
Tranquil transience
In grief forever is momentary
Swallowed apple cores on a porch leaning towards heels rubbed raw
House lit dimly
Glowing during day now retreating
To a murmur
Singing distant hymns of visceral bloom
Ingested fertility over fence posts
Drinking regurgitated flesh until lamp light grew faint and significant,
Sprout from us
Orchards vast and bearing

Phil Lindsey Mar 2016

I was hungry. Starving, actually.
I spied an apple in an apple tree,
It looked so very good to me,
Though it was high as it could be.
So I took a ladder to the tree,
And climbed it, oh, so carefully,
And when I was close as close could be,
I reached out, but it was plain to see,
That a worm got there ahead of me!

But I used to hear my Granny say,
"An apple a day keeps the doctor away."
So I climbed down, and what can I say,
I ate the apple anyway!

PwL  3/13/16

Maple Mathers Feb 2016

As a footnote, I’ve always held a certain regard for those plentiful fruits. Raspberries. Small and juicy and sweet. Quick and easy.

Now, it’s apples on the other hand I heavily despise.

To eat an apple is to make a commitment. Society generally frowns upon those who eat half an apple, just to toss out the rest. And most people are not exactly bargaining for your leftovers once they’re brown and teeth marked. Apple eating is a long and rigorous ordeal. Halfway through, the raw parts begin to stain or dry and when you’re finally finished, you’ve still got to deal with that core and the skin that’s stuck in your teeth. Herein, apples and commitments become synonymous. Convenience, the antonym.

Raspberries, however, are miniature, and zesty, and only last for a matter of seconds.

Not unlike ideal high school relationships.

An excerpt from my novel - Pretense.

(All poems original Copyright of Eva Denali Will © 2015, 2016.)
Sean Tierney Jan 2016

you say one thing
I say two

and our views
bob together
like three apples
in a bucket of water

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