#sweets
They put me in the oven to bake.
Me a deprived and miserable cake.
Feeling the heat I started to bubble.
Watching the others I knew I was in trouble
They opened the door and I started my life.
Frosting me with a silver knife.
Decorating me with candy jewels.
The rest of my batch looked like fools.
Lifting me up, she took off my wrapper.
Feeling the breeze, I wanted to slap her.
Opening her mouth with shiny teeth inside.
This was the day this cupcake had died.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 10:10 AM UTC
With a heavy sigh, I go to bed at night, laying down to finally rest,
Just to awake in my personal heaven, a realm of sweetness and bliss,
Flowers of all kinds, trees with angel trumpets bound to golden chain,
As the lilies are touched by a soft breeze, giving off their nice scent,
I spirit away to purely engage and sympathize with other but pure fury or the sadness which has been sealed within my heart since then,
Snowdrops and buttercups form a way to a single jasmine near a river of the purest water, which is alike a shining star, majesticly sparkling,
The sky is starlit, each in their orbit whilst the golden light of the sun still reaches through, warming my cold skin comfortingly, delicately,
Taking a seat I glance at what the table has presented before my eyes,
Sweets, with sour yet aromatised orange juice anda large cheesecake,
Then, suddenly, a single seagull draws near, weeping for affection,
Together with bunnies and bumblebees buzzing around the flowers,
Even now all the hummingbirds harmonise in a soft orchestra,
And no frightened creature cries, they draw together in happiness,
Yet I feel the absence of something which I hold very dear to me,
Because you my dear lover, remain as my sweetest dream
~ Umi
Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 3:16 PM UTC
strange things:
the same hands we raise
in victory are those we
lift in surrender, just as
joy is known because
we've tasted the fruit
that sadness yields.
© Qwey.ku
Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 5:04 PM UTC
I wonder how your lips
would taste?
Would they be sweet
Like how I think
They would be?
Soft like marshmallows?
Firm like a lollipop?
Supple like gummies?
Smooth like chocolate?
But no matter how they taste,
I just hope you like ice cream.
Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 6:59 AM UTC
*No thank you.
I'm sweets-intolerant.
No sweets, no toothaches.*
Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 4:22 AM UTC
Love letters and flowers, sweets and treats
It's all wasted money and time
She belongs to the streets
She was never "mine"
Left her scent on many sheets
Simple as a glass of wine
Line as long as 20 meet 'n greets
A free-for-all free for all, small of her back there's even a sign
How'd I miss that...?
Does love actually make you blind?
©2024
Jan 20, 2024
Jan 20, 2024 at 1:57 AM UTC
one drop of fruitless satisfaction
two spoonful of unease
three teaspoons of emptiness
four quarts of loose tears
a handful of frustration,
pints of jealousy
gallons of heaviness
dozens of music,
and a sea of thoughts
but a drop is enough for me to drown
My teeth hurts...
Jun 7, 2021
Jun 7, 2021 at 1:56 AM UTC
Sweet treats just for me
I need to get some money
Sweets, they are not free
Sweets treats just for me
To the shop, I run so fast
Don't stop to think, go
Sweets treat just for me
Eyes look through the glass
Curly wurly yum
Cola bottles yum
Sherbert dip is so delish
Too much sugar, sick.
Oct 28, 2020
Oct 28, 2020 at 1:42 PM UTC
Cinnamon
winters the rolls.
If my past childhood memories serve me correctly.
Better than playing in the wettest Christmas snow
leaves a sweet kiss behind.
My lips follows, with an expected sigh.
To again taste one of many...
the many tasty treasures left behind
by the Elusive divine.
In that very moment;
where the sweet cinnamon lubricates
my feisty lips.
All is ******** history.
Isn't it?
And so I ravaged the now decimated sweet treasure
with many sinful bites.
Smoked a cigarette afterwards.
There was a no smoking sign.
Indeed, **** and cinnamon don't mix.
On the tiny red plate, where the cinnamon rolls once lived.
a few crumbs in its wake still exists.
Confusion is typical of this kind of ish.
When you lick the mooing cows hidden dish.
Written and Copyrighted (C) 2014
by Claude Robert Hill, IV.
Jan 4, 2020
Jan 4, 2020 at 4:01 PM UTC
Here come the confectionary clouds
Packed like powdered sugar
And
They
Drizzle
All
Over
Her
Hankering
Hungry
Heart
Little quicksilver has
A bit of a sweet tooth
And grubby hands well into
A box of Quality Street
Oct 11, 2020
Oct 11, 2020 at 11:12 AM UTC
Working hard is what we do
Each day this place we show up to
Selling pie and pastries too
Wiping tables when we're through
That's just life for me and you
Sep 22, 2019
Sep 22, 2019 at 9:08 PM UTC
A large penny for the mysterious sweet shop and
A wooden tray of treasures, for my paper twist,
Fingers sticky with sugar, giggling at the silliness
Of a younger sister with a boys haircut
Silver milk bottle tops on a frosty winters morn
Pierced by hungry, pecking tits,
Finger nails scrapping frost from window panes
Revealing the dim day dawning before simpler eyes
Listening to the breakfast radio show for latest releases
Above a chattering bustling kitchen
Shouting, a little sister curling her hair, that we’d be late
Pelting towards school bus, with Camus stuffed in a torn pocket
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 5:23 PM UTC
You're a young boy on
The playground, sharing with the
Pretty girls you like
Feb 13, 2021
Feb 13, 2021 at 1:54 PM UTC
A glance
The little black figures
words
lines
of endless text
pass me by
my eyes
seeing nothing
but little
black
lines
shapes
dots
stripes
crosses
...
A stick
slathered in
nutella
chocolate, and hazelnut
the sweet
makes
me
numb
The crunch makes me
succumb
...
The sounds
pelting me
commands
inquiries,
things to do
things to hear
So
Much
Noise
Information
being blown away
in the wind
past my
unresponsive
ears
A lone
buzz takes
over
...
The sprite
gluggs down
my
esophagus
Burns
my lungs
A crinkle
from the now,
empty
bottle
...
The led
****** my fingers the
keys click clikety click as I
tap tapety tap
poke
****
the computer keys the
piano keys
ting
tingety ting
as I push
press
Smooth
that little piece of dirt I
rub rub Rub RUB
scratch SCRATCH
...
The frozen
unbelievable painfully
sweet sweetness
numbs my
tongue
cream
cold as
ice freezes
my brain
My brain
My brai
My bra
My br-
My b-
B-
b-
B-
bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb
...
...
...
Enveloped
in a blanket of
sweetness
my tongue is all I know
as I
Binge
To
Ecstasy
Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 10:58 PM UTC
sweet tree
raised from
tropical
earth
to grow upright
and out
to sprout
from trunk
a bunch of
pink and
pointed pods
or perhaps
crimson or
yellow
aubergine
tangerine
green
scythed clean
from host
and hacked
in two
for getting at
seeds a-pulp
in white
and slimed
and spreading
them out under
the sun
to get hot
in their own
juices
to ferment
wild
to bake
dry
poured tinkling
by the
thousands into
sacks of hessian
for sending
‘cross seas
to furnace-cracked
futures
winnied and
conched
sweetened
melted
and hardened
into shapes
of other things
© 2017 Adelaide Heathfield
Feb 21, 2018
Feb 21, 2018 at 8:27 AM UTC
my sweet
caramel candy
treat me
taste me
pair me with sierra mist
bite me on each end
i am licorice
**** energy through my body
my sweet
swim to me
chew me
swallow me whole
pair me with crush
for a fruity mix
i am
swedish fish
pucker my lips
kiss me
my sweet
caramel candy
Apr 29, 2020
Apr 29, 2020 at 7:17 PM UTC
Are we junk? Waste,
Shard and smear,
Empty symbol made by
“Doled out Poet’s papers,
Hoarded like sweets?”
Our awkward secrets
stumble
cislunar.
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 9:51 PM UTC
Oatmeal star
Is that your hand
in the cookie jar?
Go for burn
where chocolate heavens
meet that interstellar souffle
There we'll melt together
as the dark side
of the Milky Way
Jul 20, 2020
Jul 20, 2020 at 12:03 AM UTC
Rolling down the hill laughing, tumbling not caring; free as I get coated in grass stains and mud
Careful not to smudge the mascara, applying eye liner and sigh in relief to have not sullied my face saving embarrassment
Giddy selecting sweets from the colourful array to buy with MY money; as much as I can!
Glancing at my seemingly large stomach in this dress I opt for a salad; as always (bland) but at least I'll be slimmer
Card trades, the politics of the playground, using trickery and bribery to get the best, feeling like a boss
Eyeing him with a secure hand in his, falling hard, to notice her gaze at him and subtly securing dominance of his heart.
The door bell rings and there stands the gang ready with bikes and water guns to surrender ourselves to the sunny day
The Suns out and the lighting is absolutely perfect for a selfie so with a stretched grin I snap, Photoshop and Instagram
Toys R Us our haven and envious glances at those who could afford the best and most exquisite Bratz sets or card sets
The rare visits to the Apple Store are exciting even to just gaze at the new iPhone 5 and hold it awhile....
The joy oh the joy of reading time, together we sat and took turns, enjoying the sharing of a tale
With my phone in hand not a minute goes by that I don't check my Facebook page for notifications
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 4:19 PM UTC
Last night, whilst I was sleeping,
my dreams were turned into
bubble gum rivers
cascading from my mind in
fruit winder waves, infecting
my body with
artificial fructose and
awakening my reverie
with a sweet
burning desire to
Go!
Do!
Live!
So I follow my instructions
and hop on this candy-covered
illusion and travel,
to a place where sugar can
sprout from my fingers and a
thick toffee sauce
can cloud my brain so I can't
hear the screams of paranoia
that come with
all beauty, and I delude
myself into thinking that
this is life.
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 12:31 PM UTC
To reassure me
You utter softly
"*Just think of me
As a cookie
You've been dying to eat*"
...
I'm nervous
My hands are shaking
When I place them on your knees
Sure
I've tasted hard lollipops before
And they were easy to take in my mouth
As my lips formed around them.
But I've never had a sugar cookie
Quite like this before
With a goddess
Quite like you
Your voice is calm
Collected
But weighed down
Over the sound of my panting
As your fingers tangle in my hair
"Relax"
My body twitches with excitement
Anxiety
Because I want to please you
But I don't know how
I lean forward anyway
And lick away some of the frosting
You moan
And I know you taste sweeter than ever.
May 19, 2017
May 19, 2017 at 1:22 PM UTC
I think reflections are some of the most interesting things to look at. you can be looking at a person through a mirrored image without anyone knowing; in fact, they could be looking right back at you, wondering if or when you will say something to turn their blue to a calming gesture for two.
we squint our eyes at each movement, at each word spoken in curiosity, and grip onto the edge of our seats waiting for the "next time" to be for ourselves, our decisions.
we wait for that cherry on top moment to allow the reflections to reflect our dreams and hopes instead of simply enjoying the whole shake.
(j.a.r.)
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 11:00 PM UTC
“i hate sweets”
you’d once said
being offered a cake
and having none of it
for you did not like the taste
i wondered why that was
and came to the conclusion
that perhaps the reason
was because you had known
the taste of sweetness for too long
the people around you
they looked at you
talked to you
and they were
too sweet
tooth-achingly so
and maybe that was why you loved me
because i was far from sweet
i was sour
slightly painful
i've been told i'm unpleasant (not by you, of course)
an acquired taste, you'd said
"not unpleasant," were the words you whispered
smile crooked
eyes mellow
relaxed
"just a bit different"
i wondered if you loved me
because i was "me"
or because i was "sour"
because i wasn't "sweet"
so i
covered myself
in candy,
asked you what you think
"my dear,"
you smiled
"i wouldn't care
how 'sweet' you are
for i would still love you"
"but you hate sweets" i countered,
and you
laughed at me
"i also hate the sour taste of lemons," you said
"and you're the most sour person on this earth"
Mar 6, 2018
Mar 6, 2018 at 10:35 AM UTC