#tastes
all my past
imposes on my breath today
i enter a grand mosaic public building
and on goes my medical face mask
i join the back of the queue with my documents in one hand
and my numbered butcher ticket
in the other
i admire the mosaics
a jarring tide of art against the bureaucratic purpose
of these rooms
gauzed in with own product exhaust
all my past is attending
exhumed
patted into my breath
baiting remembrance with unsubtle notes
for example :
integrated spittings of 'drum' tobacco (i quit a decade ago)
horning catches of cologne every boy used as a teen
seasonal scents unweaned from deep in my system
(some reigned in from the different countries
i lived in or visited)
then i am frisked back to infancy with breast milk and rusks
it's all there a basking flippancy
all there in musk about my face
one fragrance after another
it's an honest relief
to host an alternative to my 'old man' breath
but odd and concerning
something of the brain ?
Apr 6, 2024
Apr 6, 2024 at 1:40 PM UTC
Total me a dream
Find me, a corner of an eye
Save me, the turn of chaste, in whim
And poise, me is a reason to be why
A house...
A character of decency, we delve long and tight
A stirring hour, we hope is beyond a days shroud
Taken with the memory, of sincerity to share might...?
A place...
Found with the eyes of wonder, we make for ourselves
Chance heiring, in the name of a vice's pace
Of coping how, and the semblance of seclusion, a wealth?
A room...
For sign's of witness, particular to shadows of change
Wealth is to be the common, the thought to let liberty mushroom
And become a friend, of worth in loyal sates; however strange...
A step...
Forward with communion to entail even the solitude, we meant
For a night's angel, and the demands of couth we select for wit?
See the composed guide me to the strength I know, is more sent...
A stone we should know...
Passing all to follow the method of our following
Promise and privilege, in the seem, to wish once upon a time to owe
Swept away with the today we accept, is a now in the hallowing...
Jun 28, 2023
Jun 28, 2023 at 8:50 PM UTC
Pink jelly beans
Kinda don't like your taste
Not sure what flavor
You're supposed to be
Maybe generic Barbie?
Please
Don't take this personal
Still very cute
Someone loves you
But
Apparently
I don't enjoy the taste of
Mystery
Jun 27, 2023
Jun 27, 2023 at 1:25 PM UTC
I don't think you know I used to listen to Chet Baker.
He's likely sung me to sleep once or twice by now,
but I lost him to time and blues, hidden upon layered
snowfall flung from new ears and new sounds.
So it came as a surprise I'd see him again
elsewhere somehow late one night before bed.
It baffles me you listen to such songs
when most people would rather hear a track from Red.
Our tastes may not align a hundred percent of the time
but at least your palate is something I admire
despite its wayward crimes and objections with mine,
for all its, let's call it, bona fide desire.
However, in the many instances they shake hands--
when they share stances and break lines in the sand--
those moments make me proud I met you.
Not many people can juggle in tandem.
After all, it takes two to know tango is best
when both are aware of exactly how either
would break the rules of the dance
to bend the movements to their own fancy.
Jun 18, 2023
Jun 18, 2023 at 1:36 AM UTC
A taste of life:
green mangoes dipped in
vinegar and salt
None distilled moments
rising worries on top your head- _a malt_
You keep blaming yourself;
worried and pressed strain on cheeks
Squeezing in a sting of pain
as the first and long taste of something sweet
Pools of spit
flowing unrest in the society
of oppressed people
How not to speak in a place
that has you swallow a needle
The lethal poison of dying tastefully
******* bullets—oh what a steel
They robbed your opinion, with their
own stronger opinion over yours
It's always the problem of a bigger
world; you can never speak against a first
world country. Clench your jaws, and grab
a gun— we're about to fight their wars
The taste of blood
you taste out of a ****** nose
We're torn in our hearts, torn in
our clothes—killing the look of wearing
bullet holes
Gold digging in pockets by the mines
of minors—still a bunch of hoes
Growing up in the dark gardens made of
weeds. You've crowned yourself in shame,
but call yourself king and queen
The taste of failure in the world
the taste of expired goods in a first bite
An approach to running into conclusions,
delusions of subtle uneasiness, of seeing a
roach in a supermarket pie
It's like wanting to die, but not having the
means to afford a less painful suicide
So you keep pushing on in this distasteful
life —dying inside. It all tastes so vile!
Why won't my tongue go numb
to the displease of not tasting success
Failure feels like a chilli cough stuck
in your chest. Depends on how well
you can cope with being depressed
You'll acquire all the tastes you
like, but also know so well the tastes
so vile of life. _All acquired tastes_
Jan 17, 2023
Jan 17, 2023 at 5:00 PM UTC
Sometimes you change
And so does your mentality.
You ain't recognize your taste,
Unfollow pages, cause now they bring anxiety.
Sometimes you change
And not only location,
But also people that you place
Around yourself, it's called prioritization.
Sometimes you change
And ain't making same decision.
New choices you now make
Do set new course and clear your vision.
Aug 1, 2021
Aug 1, 2021 at 9:50 PM UTC
Ah! You're already here
I've been waiting dear
This you have to hear
It's somethin' to adhere
It's tongues dried
and lungs fried
Not other way around
And I don't refund
So let's get down
to what you want
The tastes I own;
the ones you'll flaunt
Cracked bones
and hacked jaws
Charred toes
and bottled gore
From pickled hearts
to private parts
Just say the name,
I've got it all
Just take your time
and think it through
And when it's right
I'll come find you
It's been a while
Did you decide?
Just ditch your pride
and speak your mind
So it's 'crispy skin'?
'kay, I'll let you in
Let's taste your kin
Yes, it's not a sin
Nov 22, 2020
Nov 22, 2020 at 12:28 PM UTC
Meandering … I know right away
What the context of this dark entails
What the question of this day implies
And so I'll answer
In distilling this … in the stillness therein lies
Though sunshine isn't yet necessary
To bring a shining smile to my face
Squinting on a day like this … born distinguishment
When I know, I know
Like the *** and groundless coffee based
It is good today
Gosh it's good today
Oct 22, 2019
Oct 22, 2019 at 3:20 PM UTC
When I create poetry
it may not be your cup of tea
nor a great form of artistry
But it'll never be empty
as my words will always have
fragments of me
May 23, 2019
May 23, 2019 at 2:30 AM UTC
waves are like people
no two are alike
yet they all end up doing the same thing
like the one before it
and the one after
at their own pace
they’ll wait
until the perfect time
that one that just feels right
but when it comes
the beach is different
tastes have changed
because the trends have too
Apr 10, 2019
Apr 10, 2019 at 3:25 PM UTC
We eat in the restaurants
Eat in the bars
By the bistros
Against the street or on the ground
It does not matter where we are found
As we eat like we are dancing
With no one around
Who could possibly be watching?
Inside your own home
A house of a lone star
Impossibly pondering
How the pauper used wood
And turned it into cooking.
Food can be shared for
A life once cared for
Kept to yourself
Perhaps you beg not to share it
An octagon plate and octagon jades
Caramel vinegar rain
Tossing and turning with lightning veins.
Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 10:54 PM UTC
╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ'✿⊱╮
Small, sweet milk-white squares
Fresh fruits and nuts chopped
Hazelnuts, pistachios,
cashews, dried cherries
Honeyed-almonds, crunch
So toothsome
Yum!
╰⊰✿⊱╮
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 9:17 AM UTC
Tears and water are similar
but have dissimilar
tastes.
Jan 23, 2018
Jan 23, 2018 at 12:52 PM UTC
I drank her dry.
But hadn't I'd known that
Would be my last.
I would have savored her
In my mouth.
Alas, I had forgotten how she tastes
And that is my eternal doom
Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 4:53 AM UTC
Swiping itches
Sticky fingers
Yields those smells we love
To touch it, thrills
You mean business
Steady shucking,
Harvests tingles starting from these toes
**** junk, to the nostrils
Smells like rock ‘n roll
Fuzzy nothings
Sweeping softness
Inside wet with joy
Excited aces, jack of clovers
Licks the spades in throes
Something wilder
Up above us
Shivers chilled with awe
Insight betwixt our interstices
This mouth cleaving chills below
Always ready
Never settling
Redolent God-like muse
This music is something
To be messed with
Together we watch our show
Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 5:25 AM UTC
listening to contemporary soundscapes on the radio
I realize I am the age of my grandmother
when she was terrified that I was
happily howling the latest Beatles songs
and trying to play them on the piano which
for her
was a sanctuary of late 19th century music
she liked to play with virtuosity and passion
much of what my culture radio station
calls contemporary music
or pop music stations praise in their charts
does not really catch my ear either
times keep changing
Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 4:57 PM UTC
I want
the kind
of love
where
coffee
tastes
better
on your
lips.
-JRM
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 1:10 PM UTC
Acting is carried away and the dazed, wise boy is alone smoking viceroys. Without a word or a day to change the things that should be running down the shower drain. Wipe the sweat off his face and he could shave to the grain to make himself okay. Putting his act in place, but his special place is forevermore changing.
Sweet tastes of likely lead to an addiction for a boy who always runs blindly, but when the ground gets icy, the boy will break through ever so lightly and even after hopping the fence, love and lovely still has a big difference. So, the boy will keep on filling his bed, forgetting the age of his existence.
Maybe he is just homeless, scouting out a place to live. Jumping couches with people he loves and people he knows love him. Hardwood floors and springy couches aren't enough to break his back, but when the time comes he'll have to choose and face the facts. Business and opportunities can still make you homeless and the fact there's no love makes you almost boneless. This boy is bright and clever and will be able to rise up whenever, but without cutting off the extra cartilage, he may never find a home because home is where the heart is.
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 1:27 AM UTC
Their are times when I wish I could recapture some of the past
and have good memories that would always last and not fade over time
There are times when I can recapture something if only for a moment
A taste a smell, reminding me of a loved one lost, but for a little while at least I feel happy and content and in a way feel somehow transported back in time.
I call it the tastes of childhood, like when I was in Grandma's kitchen I remember the smell of her M&M; cookies, I have never since tasted cookies so fine
I remember my Dad making polish sausages bought fresh from the local sausage house, my mouth just waters just thinking about it even though I just ate.
Then on Sundays we would all gather around the table together as a family and eat together which was quite a feat, considering a family of nine children, and everyone seemed to scream out I want a leg all at once, which was a problem being chicken fryers back them did not consist of all legs; I still don't know how my parents managed the chaos of all us children
I also remember my dad smelling of Old Spice and I think it was nice
I wonder if you to will be transported down memory lane, if only for a moment
What are your tastes of childhood? feel free to share
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 6:38 PM UTC