#vanilla
“Chocolate or vanilla?”
“Can I get a twist?”
“Sorry, we don't serve that here.”
“Can't you just… mix them together?”
“Well, why would you want that?”
“Because, I like chocolate and vanilla.”
“But you can't just have both.”
“...I'll take cheesecake.”
3d ago
May 30, 2026 at 9:17 PM UTC
Weighed
By the scent of vanilla
In the better eye of love, so said
Where a talk with God is but sharing, a brighter dilemma
Know nothing for a friend?
Simple or heinous, the talk of liberty
Set to right's, and marveling at a risen lend
Of subtle voices, a wisdom's curiosity...
With a dancing mind...
Seeing the sinking feeling of a war, to face
Speed and destiny always makes a river of duty, to shine
A place for ought intoned, with the spare eyes of sincerity's praise
I can see, I can be
The toll of uniqueness in the land
A habit of pout's, if not powers of staunch envy
Of a weary idea, sorrow is a promise given by hand
Tomorrow is my best friend
Never the utmost of today, which shames
The way yesterday is a fancier sin
Marry me, comes my voice, with a mercies names...
Jan 9
Jan 9, 2026 at 11:26 AM UTC
All the years, how they pass,
Unhurried but veiled,
Like being seen through glass
The games we played,
Minecraft and FNAF,
The things we saw,
Social media and war,
What we smelled,
Vanilla and Citrus,
What we heard,
Bet and cringe,
What we touched,
Soft and jagged,
What we tasted,
Sweet and sour,
What is this feeling?
It’s left me so…cold,
It could only be Nostalgia,
A disease of the old.
Nov 4, 2025
Nov 4, 2025 at 12:17 PM UTC
All songs are sad, the poems aren’t better.
Maybe I should remake them all?
Re-write, re-concoct, re-live, re-slobbered!
Maybe they should be re-baked in whole?
So that instead of the night there’s the sun!
And in place of the blizzard there’s summer.
And no sadness! Out with the blues!
No more tears! No ill lucks and dramas!
And what about love? We’ll keep it on!
But let’s go and change my loving colors!
Instead of the rain and sleepless nights,
We’d paint white camomiles and flashy covers.
The wind would always be tail-on,
And love would live into old life.
Cinnamon, almond, vanilla aromas…
Am I right? Is that the smell of happy life?
I’ll write such “love story”, where they both
Love each other and were both faithful.
The sun shines brightly, birds sing clearly,
And they both live till their death in full.
I’ll finish writing this loving poem
And put it on the back shelf grandly.
I can be inaccurate, but I don’t like it.
And in my poems I won’t lie fully!
All songs are sad, the poems aren’t better.
I won’t remake them all in no way.
I love and I write my fanciful life!
And I will do it further alway!
Jun 1, 2025
Jun 1, 2025 at 2:01 PM UTC
She doesn't wear vanilla dresses,
Ethereal shoes and a mint beret.
She doesn't accept gluey embraces
And kisses, where the truth is away.
She doesn't like stuffy speeches
About the Moon and stars at her feet.
She doesn't need a fiery chatter,
If there is a hollow behind it.
No use to disturb the Sun in vain
And lead it to shine only for her.
In fact all your cries are trait falsehood.
No need to be so low-lived amateur.
The sea throws a foam right at her feet.
Sea waves are noisy and bold.
Her ear's softly caressed by seagulls.
These birds are the peerless sea gold.
Her clothes are surely relaxed fitting,
And so it has always been.
The wind in her face, unfastened hair,
And he's nearby - it's the ultimate thing.
Mar 24, 2025
Mar 24, 2025 at 6:05 PM UTC
(Version 1)
It is just a scent
A fine dark chocolate scent
It’s how my night ends
(Version 2)
In the heavy rain
Warm Chocolate Vanilla
Wraps a bloom tightly
Jun 23, 2024
Jun 23, 2024 at 4:34 PM UTC
They called her basic
As though it was such a a bad thing to be
But it was not bad at all.
For how could it be bad to like what millions like in turn?
To have something in common with those around you?
There must be something great about those things for millions to pursue them
So to the girl apologizing for her vanilla latte...
No, to be basic isn't so bad.
May 1, 2024
May 1, 2024 at 4:06 PM UTC
Got up early, had a coffee
The vanilla in it makes me feel alive,
One sip a taste of wonder
Why when it’s forbidden I take it as a treat
It is bittersweet
Apr 30, 2024
Apr 30, 2024 at 6:15 AM UTC
Needless, pose a question:
Miracles save themselves...
Long in the tooth, looking for a blessing
Worlds to weigh, with the voice of what delves?
Minus the stone
The rue of visits and cares...
To awaken in the arms of harmony
History to a dare, to lend the kindness of what fares?
Special...
And doted upon, like a dream can feed...?
The spareness of speed in the eye, of what will
To sakes aled, and meant, to be the end of all in heed...
The pout of summation, to which we will know intimation?
Praises be, cares see, the coming order to a least...
At worthy faces, in a common hope, to live the life of sin?
Like a weary lover was, the only force of decency to cease...
Of a silent offer, of season and risk...
To these calls of opportunity, the mated chance
Of cause curious, and questioning the weight of a reason's wish
Paced with the passion of deliberateness, is a wish a saving, romance?
Feb 3, 2023
Feb 3, 2023 at 4:00 PM UTC
a taste of frozen snow
how about pistachio
chocolate fountain
or vanilla chateau
could be strawberry fields
maybe mixed
with honey and wine
or collected from
the lower slopes of
confection perfection
call it what you like:
Dondurma,
Kulfi,
Cornets with Cream,
perhaps like Agnes,
Queen of Ices,
wading deeper
into blissful sugar,
waffling
back and forth
in endless
flavored dreams
Mar 7, 2022
Mar 7, 2022 at 12:56 PM UTC
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, October 23:>
bribed the day light to catch me
to welcome the dark night quickly
careful heels
afraid would sting would peel
to the rough ground's coldness
wore this covering black dress
walked on a damaged fate
all in the name of an elegant slate
silent walls no comment
a posture to the moon sent
the perfect hair scattered
my own self compliments flattered
alone for the mirror to be impressed
smiled and the reflection takes a guess
waved for the air
to feel attention somewhere
on that eye
smudged ink lines
vanilla hangs in the atmosphere
memories do nothing to fear
--------ravenfeels
Nov 21, 2021
Nov 21, 2021 at 6:26 AM UTC
I found my favorite part of life:
in all its randomness and uncertainties,
we always find our favorites along the way
and we personalize those for ourselves.
It's lovely; we take our own scraps from everything
-- may it be genre of movies, delicacy, fragrance, people --
piece them together,
then own a wholeness that we are.
Although, wholeness is just a euphoric concept;
Some people may feel it, many may be patiently building theirs.
Being complete is a great feeling but it's ceasing life.
Be quirky and wanting -- this is the beauty of life, after all.
I love listing my favorites as much as waiting for the new ones.
Sep 17, 2021
Sep 17, 2021 at 10:37 PM UTC
Is this where it ends?
The pouring of words,
The same as the rain against the window.
Moisture to the grass.
Safely unlatching the gate,
The horses huff in the darkness.
The sky so bare,
But it reminds me of someone else;
Beneath his chin, beneath our dreams.
Is this where we have come?
To my insincerities,
To my lies, disguised as truths.
Half-truths, we will say.
Your arms an honour:
Your doors are opening,
Finally,
But I am locked behind my own.
Is this where the road ends?
Cooped up for too long,
The light has escaped our space;
Casting shade in your eyes
And doubt on me.
With the road that lay ahead, breaking slowly,
Crumbling in slow motion:
So loudly, so harshly.
Is this where we end?
Individual thoughts on the unknown:
Opinions and perspective
The world went upside down when you spoke,
Tossing me off my feet,
The red of my hair the last thing I recall.
An inner voice spoke then:
The clucks and the chatters faded.
Until it all became void.
But this is not the first time,
This will not be the last.
Although, it is the end:
To the vanilla latte air,
To the inconvenience.
The pins on the map are all mine now,
The administration is yours.
I have no more debt,
And the circles never combined anyway.
The sun sets while we look away,
As always,
And then we drift off:
Into the abyss, into our own worlds,
Into individuality.
Until we find our voices,
And start again.
Apr 5, 2021
Apr 5, 2021 at 5:36 PM UTC
A scopiferous brush defining an aquarelle vanilla sky
Coating the canvas in lilac candy - floss clouds floating by
Painting the heavens with stardust and every pigment of the universe
Depicting celestial fluffery with deeper words than any poetic verse
🌌 🌌 🌌 🌌 🌌
Nov 11, 2020
Nov 11, 2020 at 4:12 PM UTC
Be,
As a love
Whom together,
Discovers
The art of sin
Ask,
Not of the wrongs
Nor rights
But,
If the sweet cherry
Seeps or flows
Approach,
A figure, yet
Merely a reflection
In fruits,
Not leaves
Gaze,
Vanilla cream
Opposing,
One robust
In darkness
And desire
Fuse,
The sensation
Of honey dancing
Upon buds,
Of taste
Addiction,
The willingness
To enable,
The expedition
And art of sin
Jun 16, 2020
Jun 16, 2020 at 11:33 AM UTC
✧She smelled of flowers and vanilla✧
✧Late at night you could hear her;✧
✧She'd sing to herself quietly✧
✧Just like her daddy always did,✧
✧If you'd look close enough✧
✧You'd see the tears in her eyes✧
✧And the storm in her heart.✧
✧She'll never admit it,✧
✧But she does deeply miss him.✧
May 11, 2020
May 11, 2020 at 4:06 PM UTC
~~~
Vanilla Extract
under extreme duress,
word-boarding extreme,
she issues up reluctantly a true confess
her secret ingredient
in everything is
vanilla extract
*where do you source this
in quantities so ample,
keep it well hid,
for all I see
after cupboard investigatory
solitary tiny brown bottle
shelved alone, forlornly?*
wearing a vanilla smile,
that persists for quite the while,
she crinkly eyed laughs
“I extract vanilla
nearly everyday,
for when I awake to a
fresh poem from a poet
who loves me,
I draw all the vanilla out,
then feed it back to him
in the foods I supply,
so his poetry is for ever
sustainable”
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 11:37 AM UTC
𝖯lain, generic, and, sweet.
𝖲omething that just can’t be beat.
𝖳he irony of so many.
𝖵anilla is not of any.
Godly silk of milky white and an Understatement of unrequited affection.
𝖲he lies supine waiting for vanilla to pick a side.
𝖩ust above the rim of the cup,
vanilla built all the way to the top, with No mix-ins, an overscoop just for you, and a smile on the side too.
𝖲even o’three is what is going to be.
𝖲even o’three and a firm grip on me.
𝖸es the irony of choosing originality when its the exact opposite of what you preach
𝖤specially in between the sheets.
𝖨ndeed nothing to write home about
just a medium cup of soupy iced cream.
𝖠 flavor so **** sweet that’s sadly not for me.
𝖲weet memories in time.
𝖨’ll continue on
with vanilla on my mind.
Feb 27, 2020
Feb 27, 2020 at 2:21 PM UTC
my love carries
the scent of vanilla perfume.
it drifts through me,
then dances with the wind
until it finally reaches him,
the man a thousand miles away,
and brings us closer together.
Nov 29, 2019
Nov 29, 2019 at 8:27 PM UTC
birthday cake ice cream
but you lost all your sprinkles
now just vanilla.
Jun 10, 2019
Jun 10, 2019 at 6:11 PM UTC
Bone of my bone, the missing ivory in my rib cage...we could be peas in the same pod if you weren't of a different tree altogether. Flesh of my flesh, together we are better than vanilla with chocolate chips. Apple of my eye? Let's not see what evil we could do together. Noah_arkenswagg
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 11:13 AM UTC
We are
Simply like
Coffee and Vanilla
One so Bitter and One so Sweet
Though together we make quite a treat
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 9:52 AM UTC
╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ'✿⊱╮
Crisp on the outside
Soft, fluffy inside
Vanilla blooms on my tongue
Maple syrup drips
Strawberries, whipped cream
Dust sugar
Stack!
╰⊰✿⊱╮
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 3:33 PM UTC