"appetising" poems - Hello Poetry

red is the colour of blood that courses through your veins, pumping that blood chugging ***** in your chest known as the heart. red is the colour of your skin when you blush, like that night when i mentioned how beautiful you were in the pale moonlight. red is the colour of that dress you wore to dinner, the silk draped from your body in the most modest way, yet you looked like a queen. red is the colour of the jewels i bought you after we went window shopping; i've never seen such a pleased look on anyone. red is the colour of your lips, and when you licked them, they looked as appetising as a cherry lollipop. red is the colour your face got when you got those candies from the boy you liked; the boy that wasn't me. red is the colour my hands got after punching the wall a plethora of times in anger. red is the colour of love. red is the colour of jealousy. red is the colour of anger. red is the colour that wasn't in your face when i last saw you, arms crossed on a bed. red is the colour that spilt from my open wounds after i received the news. red is the colour i last saw before i saw black.

0

Oct 10, 2013

Oct 10, 2013 at 7:22 PM UTC

* From time to time I feel blue and cook my own stew. Its bland and taste good enough for my stomach. I knew from the start that my cooking isn't really that great nor it's appetising. Atleast my milk is sweet. I'm not fond of sodas dislike the fact that it boils my stomach. Food, for now they're within reach, though must someday will come - starvation is inevitable *

0

Mar 20, 2017

Mar 20, 2017 at 1:13 PM UTC

pax

inevitable

* From time to time I feel blue and cook my own stew. Its bland and taste good enough for my stomach. I knew from the start that my cooking isn't really that great nor it's appetising. Atleast my milk is sweet. I'm not fond of sodas dislike the fact that it boils my stomach. Food, for now they're within reach, though must someday will come - starvation is inevitable *

26

Strangers on the subway Who I never met and never will Say, "hey, martha", like they're hailing a taxi And I say, "hey" back, because, I am martha. The lights go out in the tunnels, because, the conductor thinks it's funny and, Three murders happened in that time but, that never stopped him. That train after 1 am The grey and green one that smokes and used to have a future, That was, good at writing or something in high school, but, never made it to college, you know the one. That train rolls up and its five minutes late, but it's always five minutes late so no one complains, And I stub my toe on the way in, I forgot to, mind the gap, and A strange stranger bumps into me, They say, "watch where you're going sean" And I say "Sorry" Because, I'm sean, And we all get on and no one says a word, and most of the passengers are rodents But maybe some are marsupials I dont know the difference. And we sit in there for ten minutes maybe, avoiding eye contact like it's the plague, Excepting, of course, those few that make eye contact the whole ride, like you're interesting or, appetising, or, they're blind and those are actually glass eyes that just happen to be looking your way. And, when the train starts it lurches, it belches down the cars, because it, doesnt think anyone can hear it five meters underground. And as we sit and we ride the silence turns to tune, like the lack of even rustling, or bustling, or conversation to a friend, becomes the sound of collective recognition, often purposefully ignored, that no one on that train is going. The train moves, but they dont, except to stops around the corner, with no corner piece, without landing that gig, or getting the girl, or saving the day Because in the looming washed out morning, We're all, nothing more than, strangers, on the subway.

0

Jun 6, 2019

Jun 6, 2019 at 7:11 PM UTC

toothache

Strangers in the night like ships on a train

Strangers on the subway Who I never met and never will Say, "hey, martha", like they're hailing a taxi And I say, "hey" back, because, I am martha. The lights go out in the tunnels, because, the conductor thinks it's funny and, Three murders happened in that time but, that never stopped him. That train after 1 am The grey and green one that smokes and used to have a future, That was, good at writing or something in high school, but, never made it to college, you know the one. That train rolls up and its five minutes late, but it's always five minutes late so no one complains, And I stub my toe on the way in, I forgot to, mind the gap, and A strange stranger bumps into me, They say, "watch where you're going sean" And I say "Sorry" Because, I'm sean, And we all get on and no one says a word, and most of the passengers are rodents But maybe some are marsupials I dont know the difference. And we sit in there for ten minutes maybe, avoiding eye contact like it's the plague, Excepting, of course, those few that make eye contact the whole ride, like you're interesting or, appetising, or, they're blind and those are actually glass eyes that just happen to be looking your way. And, when the train starts it lurches, it belches down the cars, because it, doesnt think anyone can hear it five meters underground. And as we sit and we ride the silence turns to tune, like the lack of even rustling, or bustling, or conversation to a friend, becomes the sound of collective recognition, often purposefully ignored, that no one on that train is going. The train moves, but they dont, except to stops around the corner, with no corner piece, without landing that gig, or getting the girl, or saving the day Because in the looming washed out morning, We're all, nothing more than, strangers, on the subway.

26

I look at the waves and feel the ocean breeze; the cold atmosphere to my skin leaving me with goosebumps But not until you come and wrap your arms around me We'd sit together and look at the stars Play connect the dots while trying to find the constellation We form our own shapes and talk about how we'll create our own little Utopia while looking at the midnight sky Ohh, the grapes you pop into my mouth The sweetness is like the kisses you plant on my lips, even when I cry And everything I do, you wrap your arms around me and let my tears wet your shirt You then rub my back and remind me that the good outweighs the bad even on my darkest days I swear you're magnetic because even when you're away I can still feel your aura The burning passion and affection that we have for each other is predestined for eternity and NO ONE CAN BREAK THAT But baby, when we arrive home the land will carry us and we'll uphold our values for pessimisstic beliefs are just myths because love does exist And man, this one that we have is sureal It's real, but it's like it's not because it's like living in a fantasy It's just orange soda you see Tastes delicious when it touches my taste buds and goes down my throat into my stomach **** IT'S APPETISING Tupac said to Jada that she brings him to ****** without *** and baby, I give those words to you I wanna live with you FOREVER even when we're ghosts or magical creatures in Utopia So that we can plant our love on various people who are like us; Predestined for eternity You're my euphoria...

0

Jun 10, 2017

Jun 10, 2017 at 4:04 AM UTC

poeticpresident

Euphoria

I look at the waves and feel the ocean breeze; the cold atmosphere to my skin leaving me with goosebumps But not until you come and wrap your arms around me We'd sit together and look at the stars Play connect the dots while trying to find the constellation We form our own shapes and talk about how we'll create our own little Utopia while looking at the midnight sky Ohh, the grapes you pop into my mouth The sweetness is like the kisses you plant on my lips, even when I cry And everything I do, you wrap your arms around me and let my tears wet your shirt You then rub my back and remind me that the good outweighs the bad even on my darkest days I swear you're magnetic because even when you're away I can still feel your aura The burning passion and affection that we have for each other is predestined for eternity and NO ONE CAN BREAK THAT But baby, when we arrive home the land will carry us and we'll uphold our values for pessimisstic beliefs are just myths because love does exist And man, this one that we have is sureal It's real, but it's like it's not because it's like living in a fantasy It's just orange soda you see Tastes delicious when it touches my taste buds and goes down my throat into my stomach **** IT'S APPETISING Tupac said to Jada that she brings him to ****** without *** and baby, I give those words to you I wanna live with you FOREVER even when we're ghosts or magical creatures in Utopia So that we can plant our love on various people who are like us; Predestined for eternity You're my euphoria...

62

Within our conscious thoughts, Beneath desires of wandering souls, Dreams drift across a lake of truth, Hopes swim in spiralling shoals, Making it impossible not to smile, At Invitation Inn, on Tropical Isle. Opulent rooms with silken sheets, Serviced twenty-four-hours a day, Check in and out, whenever you like, Nobody will ever be turned away, Put up your feet, stay for a while, At Invitation Inn, on Tropical Isle. The waiters are all they should be, Girls frolic freely around the pool, Appetising hot food to spice you up, Tall drinks that will keep you cool, Magic fantasies are always in style, At Invitation Inn, on Tropical Isle. Enjoy pleasures with kindred spirits, Relaxing, not caring, in the least, Savouring hopes, dreams and desires, Sharing love, indulging in the feast, Devoid of guilt, regret, and denial, At Invitation Inn, on Tropical Isle. ©Paul Chafer 2014

0

Mar 13, 2014

Mar 13, 2014 at 8:43 PM UTC

paul-chafer

Poet’s Paradise Dreams

Within our conscious thoughts, Beneath desires of wandering souls, Dreams drift across a lake of truth, Hopes swim in spiralling shoals, Making it impossible not to smile, At Invitation Inn, on Tropical Isle. Opulent rooms with silken sheets, Serviced twenty-four-hours a day, Check in and out, whenever you like, Nobody will ever be turned away, Put up your feet, stay for a while, At Invitation Inn, on Tropical Isle. The waiters are all they should be, Girls frolic freely around the pool, Appetising hot food to spice you up, Tall drinks that will keep you cool, Magic fantasies are always in style, At Invitation Inn, on Tropical Isle. Enjoy pleasures with kindred spirits, Relaxing, not caring, in the least, Savouring hopes, dreams and desires, Sharing love, indulging in the feast, Devoid of guilt, regret, and denial, At Invitation Inn, on Tropical Isle. ©Paul Chafer 2014

25

We should just sit back and manufacture Krap and put a sign on it that tells you that the ingredients which are within are detailed on the ******* bin. Why not, we buy Krap everyday don't listen to what the products say in advertising. 'look at me I'm appetising' you know it makes no sense when twenty sausages cost fifty pence you've got to wonder how they're made Krap laid on the line Krap we get it all the time. It's time we tied the food chain up in knots we've got the brains but no we've flushed them down the drains with imperial measures remember them weighty treasures? It's like a game of pick and mix those advertisers miss no tricks to lead you down the garden path but we will have the final laugh we'll make Krap by the metric tonne and give it free for everyone and everyone will see what kind of Krap is fed to you and me.

0

May 15, 2013

May 15, 2013 at 7:36 AM UTC

john-edward-smallshaw

Weekly shop

We should just sit back and manufacture Krap and put a sign on it that tells you that the ingredients which are within are detailed on the ******* bin. Why not, we buy Krap everyday don't listen to what the products say in advertising. 'look at me I'm appetising' you know it makes no sense when twenty sausages cost fifty pence you've got to wonder how they're made Krap laid on the line Krap we get it all the time. It's time we tied the food chain up in knots we've got the brains but no we've flushed them down the drains with imperial measures remember them weighty treasures? It's like a game of pick and mix those advertisers miss no tricks to lead you down the garden path but we will have the final laugh we'll make Krap by the metric tonne and give it free for everyone and everyone will see what kind of Krap is fed to you and me.

30

Hi my name is Iona Jessica Saunders and I write Blogs for a Hobby and Study at Amersham & Wycombe college I study Art & Design Level 2 With loads of other students who are Amazing People who look forward to seeing everyday.My course is Great I'm loving it so far so good , It's differcult but I'm enjoying it so far. The projects haven't been easy but i'm enjoying them.I also do my own photography I take photos of nature like flowers , sky or leaves sometimes people. I write poems occasionally when I feel like writing something funny or dark that rhymes.I'm 18 so I can drink occasionally at parties or on the weekend.I'm a vegetarian So I don't eat meat because I don't find it appetising , I've been feeling ILL for about 2 months now But I'll get through it.I also have paranoia which means i worry about everything like : Do i look okay or am i wearing the right things or am i acting normal enough.I worry about alot of stuff But I take the time out to relax and unwind.I think Life will get better no matter how much ******* you go through , no matter how many people you lose Life will always get better , if not you just have to keep trying.

0

Nov 6, 2013

Nov 6, 2013 at 12:58 PM UTC

iona-jessica-saunders

LIFE

Hi my name is Iona Jessica Saunders and I write Blogs for a Hobby and Study at Amersham & Wycombe college I study Art & Design Level 2 With loads of other students who are Amazing People who look forward to seeing everyday.My course is Great I'm loving it so far so good , It's differcult but I'm enjoying it so far. The projects haven't been easy but i'm enjoying them.I also do my own photography I take photos of nature like flowers , sky or leaves sometimes people. I write poems occasionally when I feel like writing something funny or dark that rhymes.I'm 18 so I can drink occasionally at parties or on the weekend.I'm a vegetarian So I don't eat meat because I don't find it appetising , I've been feeling ILL for about 2 months now But I'll get through it.I also have paranoia which means i worry about everything like : Do i look okay or am i wearing the right things or am i acting normal enough.I worry about alot of stuff But I take the time out to relax and unwind.I think Life will get better no matter how much ******* you go through , no matter how many people you lose Life will always get better , if not you just have to keep trying.

1

You twist below earths casing with unease. Ravens caw awakens you once more with such rasp of unholy calling. Skeletonised featureless humanity with broken casket worn by years of gluttonous worms and maggots frenzy. Weighted down with soiled crust, you excavate within your grave, driven by the glorious call of that murderous brood, pecking demandingly above with such Tomb Stone drumming. Appealing for their master to return. Upon the midnight hour such clawing bone appears through earthen clays that fall beside thee. Back once more to their righteous hiding place. The clock slowly ticking for such a time when freedom will be your reckoning. Eventually to bare such sight as no man would invite to call. Resting wearily after such rite you ****** your caller from its lair and feast on sullen flesh and blood as around you feathers floating around you in surprised cascading chase. Not the most captivating meal but such will sustain you until sinew repairs itself and ****** meat once more returns to bone. Plenty is the time when metamorphoses completes for more appetising morsel. Awakening complete it is time to delve into this new time. A future where you are once more free to feed on living flesh. Once more to be Master is your calling. Off you go into the night, off you go to have your way and feast till Devilled hearts content. Into nights shadows do you stride.

0

Aug 24, 2014

Aug 24, 2014 at 1:00 PM UTC

christopher-k-bayliss

The Awakening

You twist below earths casing with unease. Ravens caw awakens you once more with such rasp of unholy calling. Skeletonised featureless humanity with broken casket worn by years of gluttonous worms and maggots frenzy. Weighted down with soiled crust, you excavate within your grave, driven by the glorious call of that murderous brood, pecking demandingly above with such Tomb Stone drumming. Appealing for their master to return. Upon the midnight hour such clawing bone appears through earthen clays that fall beside thee. Back once more to their righteous hiding place. The clock slowly ticking for such a time when freedom will be your reckoning. Eventually to bare such sight as no man would invite to call. Resting wearily after such rite you ****** your caller from its lair and feast on sullen flesh and blood as around you feathers floating around you in surprised cascading chase. Not the most captivating meal but such will sustain you until sinew repairs itself and ****** meat once more returns to bone. Plenty is the time when metamorphoses completes for more appetising morsel. Awakening complete it is time to delve into this new time. A future where you are once more free to feed on living flesh. Once more to be Master is your calling. Off you go into the night, off you go to have your way and feast till Devilled hearts content. Into nights shadows do you stride.

34

Oh you, With your dark shiny eyes With your perfectly drawn lips With your soft beautiful hair With your sweet hallucinating fragrance With your warming lovely voice With your appetising hot body With your caring tiny hands With your hypnotising true love Oh you, You make me love you more than I love myself...

0

May 9, 2017

May 9, 2017 at 5:29 PM UTC

Purpleisthewarmestcolor

Y.O.U

Oh you, With your dark shiny eyes With your perfectly drawn lips With your soft beautiful hair With your sweet hallucinating fragrance With your warming lovely voice With your appetising hot body With your caring tiny hands With your hypnotising true love Oh you, You make me love you more than I love myself...

11

The pseudo-science Cooking is not rocket science but would be cook has to learn the basic after this he must discover why some food doesn’t go well mixed with the wrong ingredients The rudimentary is salt, pepper and butter and then spices depending on the dish. The food on the plate should look appetising but not over-decorated, a cook should not aspire to be an artist for that, he should go to an art school and paint Pretty pictures. To put a bit of full-fat cream in some gravies Is ok, but the dish should not swim in grease. Always serve fresh salad and go easy on the potatoes.

0

Jun 29, 2018

Jun 29, 2018 at 3:48 AM UTC

jan-oskar-hansen

pseudo - science

The pseudo-science Cooking is not rocket science but would be cook has to learn the basic after this he must discover why some food doesn’t go well mixed with the wrong ingredients The rudimentary is salt, pepper and butter and then spices depending on the dish. The food on the plate should look appetising but not over-decorated, a cook should not aspire to be an artist for that, he should go to an art school and paint Pretty pictures. To put a bit of full-fat cream in some gravies Is ok, but the dish should not swim in grease. Always serve fresh salad and go easy on the potatoes.

13