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Logan Robertson Oct 2018
A Workplace Rendezvous

My eyes
Always found hers.
The dangling host.
She was one
Of my workplace peers.
If it went any further
I could be toast.

Those cinnamon eyes
Of hers.
Butterscotch candy
Peers back at me,
I feel so dandy
Shoot me some brandy.

I see the loneliness
In hers.
Her cleavage
Cuts to the chase.
Happenstance now in place.

Our eyes did dance a duet.
Her words are the coquette.
Mine is a cadet.
We grabbed a ruse.
A pail and mop with a muse.

When we reached
The men's restroom
The coast was clear.
The sun shining above,
Holding a frown.
Say hello to the clown.

We fast break the court,
I dribble up and down.
She passes back and forth,
I shoot for the town.
We score at the bell,
That breaks the spell.

Our lunch break
Was a first.
And last.
We filled our thirst
better scotch
we toast.

Logan Robertson

A sentimental memory from my youth. We were both
from nearby college working at a fast-food restaurant. What
we had was a shot glass of dilution. A crutch. So the
last three lines unravel the knot.
Jen Aug 2018
With Color.

Them all
The magic
They emit
Each other.

Lemon butter,
Jade tide,
Pineapple Rush.

Blush Touch,
Pink-Peach Punch,
Lemonade Crush,
Cedar Peaks,
Cinnamon Coffee

Wine Soaked
Cherry Red.
Rosewood Sublime,
Key lime pie

Followed by-
Gray Mist
By Balloon Green,
A breath of Spring,
And Sunglow too.

It all runs
The colors of life: experienced in love, sadness, good times and bad...
Matthew Feb 21
The Two Poems I won't forget:
You read them warmly as if your lips were butterscotch
Looking just beyond your notebook paper.
Reading with the bittersweetness of siren's song
knowing whoever listens will perish
The sounds gracing our ears to enter our hearts.
Your poems of a velvet sofa left by the street
and a matchstick box waiting to be burned.
I will never forget those poems.
Maybe I found the wrong muse.
Imagine if light was
The speed(-+) of
Fog rolling along a dewy grass hill.
If you turned on a flashl
And the light
jiggled out with a
plop like
(COndensed) chicken soup from a can? Or if
Light was like a Bright yellow cloud of poison gasthat wasnt poison( and smelled like butterscotch
Imagine turning on the hose
And spraying thick jets of
Heavy light wouldyou drink light?
i dont knownif i would id probably get around to it one day
NC May 20
Head up to the flashing lights
It lifts my heart that night
Even if I’m a foreign here
Lets hold my beer

Feeling a little sparkle
I want you to be my miracle
As sweet as butterscotch
Spill that scotch

Now the music is so loud
I was on a cloud
You’re the only key
Pay me the whiskey

Entwine under that show
Your finger following my elbow
Eyes hang to mine
Bring me that wine

Kissing with a burning desire
I want it to go higher
You smelled like vanilla
Another shot of tequila

The words you said to my ears
You left me in tears
It is true, I’m an addict
That makes me an alcoholic.
Je suis amoureuse de ce que tu représentes
Keith Collard Feb 16
At a bus stop,
Town well to do,
A summer so green,
And an ocean so blue,
A mere speck the battered lonely kite,
Approaching is a retired gent and wife,
The well to do, the battered kite aloft,
did not say hi, did not stop,
instead had something to hand-off,
"  For smiling"
and in my palm-- a butterscotch.
There was once a flat in Aberdeen ,
with many books ,
amugst the coffee cups and cigarette buts ,
and bottles of drink ,
stood out one ,
with grim piercing smile ,
held a chill up to my spine ,
a spinderling tale ,
a haunted spirit ,
a young boys mind in ruin .

Untill day dreams and sleep return ,
for in. our minds spiders find time ,
to awaken what has been broken.

For now I have awoken  ,
before the birdsong that herolds the dawn ,
a paper mache mask hangs in mid air .
many many years from here ..
Behind it lies corridors of loneliness,
bittersweet ,
butterscotch candy flakes ,
the dorcedanyas mirrors lost in time and space .
where every room a closed door waits ,
and silence echoes reflections in my grandmas mirror ,
that I’m told go on forever !

Am I awake or am I dead ?
yet a feeling of being alone ,
for his loneliness is a floral bed ,
when paper face takes off his paper mache head .

A closed door an empty smile ,
a mirror that masks the truth in lies ,

For if music halls could still dance and sing ,
he would still be the toast to the king of swing .

His only companions are in his head ,
they goaded him ,
they put the thoughts into his head ,
they told him they wished he were dead .

Now in silence he hangs above my bed ,
at three in the morning,
just before dawn ,
and birdsong breaks this hopeless mourn ,
there’s a knock on my door ,
a spirit of a lady with the most beautiful smile ,
holding lilies ,
In a white long dress ,
awaits to enter on time .

Before my eyes from this paper mask a man with beaming smile I saw in black bow tie ,
and morning suit ,
his buttercup candy flake .
Hand in hand they wait for the sun ,
to vanish in light and love ,
to where heavens chorus breaks .

For loneliness has been and gone ,
and fear has been replaced by morning song ,
for my bedroom is filled with the first beams of light ,
that has cast the spell of loneliness into the night .
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
Sweeter* than* wait I am starting
to melt like a____?
             Royal Jam
  Scarlet Movie Oh!  I don't give a
The Milkman versus My Breadman
How can I decide I feel I am
going to faint

Such a quaint picnic was "Hot Epic"
       My biggest fan is my
    Going public like a stand up comic

All stereotypes happiness
        is a warm bread

Any way you slice it love it
Even going out of our head
The war going on
Hello Vietnam
Be my *Grand Slam

Have difficulty with everything
Melting our hearts those
"Good Eat" the luckiest people
But it's us the ordinary people
No time to brag or boost
who believes
everything is extraordinary
take a bow

Feeling tired give me a bat and ball
My big hit  built me a buttercup bed

I love the sweet warm toast
With my butter spread that
dash of sea salt the most
What was truly said in
your opinion no one's fault
Justice For All so stop
feeling guilty

Or in the presence of someone, you
didn't love at all

End of the reign beginning of
Melted candle dripping softly
like I apple butter he texted me
His ears were full of wax

Moms and
their daughters play
dressed up Dads and sons
  kickball having a meltdown
Of timeless bills no bread lines
Kings and Queens love their crowns
Love those quilts of corals
Soft as butter what morals

It's time for Hellman's
mayonnaise sandwich
What a dilemma
Every morning she is eating
Cream of wheat like a blob
Of farina
Kansas City here she comes

She loves her buttered popcorn
Poppy seed bagel was
near her acorns
We used to be human now
  An Army of Robots
Keep your enemies closer
If you truly love her

Robin Hood of the thieves

She got Gingersnapped
Melted finger-mapped
Crusty Baguette's French lip
lemon creme
Those marionettes caused
a scene

Butterscotch candy sugar cookies  
cleaning up your
computer meet "Ms." Butterworth"
The worst shes ever has seen

She is sitting in the country
southern style
the dining room
Doing banana splits boiling
egg yolks Mcdonalds pancake
with Old folks

And cartwheels Moms always
wearing her buttercream heels
More room buttercream paint
And so toxic she zooms

What a silly goose with hens
He is hiding his eyes like
a fugitive he was blind getting
melted by so many lovers
Buttery slippery hearts

Jumping like Jack Rabbits melting a
white picket fence no nonsense
This bread and butter hold me closer
Everyone is looking
like a stranger
Almost every morning new
improved bread love pusher
Fresh taste and another lover
Uptown girl left her catcher of
the rye bread on used up counter
Seeing too many piano players
of Billies, she was getting a
Bread hot fever

Take me to *
Panera Bread
Cyborgs the pig and whistle 
beer and nuts melted butter pretzels
The Alien like a damsel in distress
Like a heart of the shamrock
What a lucky piece Irish bread
The Queen red wine and
On her musical chair
Milk and honey not your
Unicorn Pony quick kick
then melt me in my sleep

Ancient rocks up her castle
Sipping her hot spell word
Secrets of all tattle tales
In her coffee, he smiles with
French croissant like a sergeant
Bread melted her butter lips
The very first time she
ever saw his face
There were more excursions
but no excuses to
butter up my Prince
How our bread is buttered or so soft but sweet like out Mother and  her lovers' chef knife left her salted the stars upon them a temptation to move on soft heartedly
To be loved you feel squashed in between there is always a shining light we see them differently let's not cause such a scene
Butter scotch ,
Candy floss ,
the girls make jam tarts then eat them .

They feast on cream cakes ,
or what ever mother bakes ,
and pray the devil bird won’t eat them .
For Janet swings and sings ,
as the seat creeks and groans ,
all alone ,
before bed and home ,
she prays the devil bird won’t eat them .

So along comes Johnny who lost his lolly ,
he  always cries before tea ,
and loves to give Janet a push ,
so gently .
“ Harder Johnny harder ,
Push me up towards the skies “
“ I can’t push you any harder Janet ,
you might fall and graze you’re knee ?

“ Jam tarts floss butterscotch candy ,
Cream scones and chocolate cake ,
trifle and jelly ,
Come children time for tea “ .

Now Johnny went to look for his lolly which he had dropped upon the floor,
The sun heard a squawk ,
and flapping ,
afraid he hid behind a cloud .
Afraid to look ,
above all other things ,
the sun asked the cloud ,
who just couldn’t contain his sorrow ,
bursting dam ,
cracked open ,
like a skin fit to burst ,
came feeding time for the bird !

A swinging chair ,
alone in the air ,
creeped and swung less slowly ,
then stopped .
for tea time was over ,
and the children went out to play again .
DAF Sep 14
delight wrapped in silk skin
butterscotch dipped kisses
sugar coated lies back and forth
too sweet to know the difference
saige Aug 6
Thanks to that velveteen tone he
saves for me
And his turpentine diction,
The cliches that made my eyes roll
Now make my heart rush

Nonetheless, my thoughts riot as follows...

(When urged to call him something cheery
something no smile can wane at
like that fleck of gold in his left iris)
Well, "sunshine" should suffice
And Latin for that equals
Which phoneticized equals
"Opry cheetahs"
So the obvious endearment here is

(When urged to call him something pure
perhaps upon watching him blink
or blush
or blow
cigarette ringlets away from babies)
No, that's a slang for ***** these days
So, "raindrop"
If Latin is dead,
It sure knows how to haunt me
"Gutta imbrium"
My little ember
The only glow in all this charcoal

(When urged to call him something pretty
when he's brushing his hair
or allowing me to arrange red clovers
in his sideburns)
Hm, let's testdrive "moonlight"
Let's shift into Latin, "luna lumen"
Thus the nickname I bite back is

While I hear darlings and dearies
on the daily
Why must I fail to mirror him?

(When urged to call him something sweet
like the butterscotch kisses he whispers
into my knuckles)
Like a honeycomb
Or as Ceasar would say, "cera mel"
Close enough?
Dizzy, then

We spin
In silence

(When urged to call him something cute
with his cap on sideways
and his head in my lap
and the world at my heels)
Half of that backwards might as well be
Two lips
Two tongues
Too much, yet never enough of his
Smoke bomb pomegranate mouth

For heaven's sake, see?
That's why I kiss instead of speak
Candles that burn
In the frame of a moonlit window
Runs dry and bitter
And burns out too soon
And the man that needs to see
Turns butterscotch and candy
And like a little kitten
Crawls under the blankets
For in dark rooms
Far from any mother's womb
Lives a dark race
In mind or in place
That scares muscular men from sight and space
Better then,
Candy man,
Who turns into cream and flakes
To close your eyes and sleep the dark away
milkymoon Mar 25
the fire blows me south;

a relinquishing resistance pulls.

Mountains part starboard and port side,

Gifting my tastebuds with an Eau rose river -

eroding the human udders.

The smooth meadows enchanted a rabbit-hole;

a salty surprise enriched my lime tree.

Quaffing the rabbits -

tasting of oak and the cause of my berocca and cheeseburger breakfast -

i ****** it dry.

The bosky acres loomed as Moses seductively parted the red sea.

A 9-volt battery shocked my insides,

as an explosion baffled my thoughts.

The thick butterscotch and oyster infused creek

trickled pass a warm apple pie scented bay -

seeping into her bitter sea.
Iska Sep 23
I remember it was beautiful,
The day that you died.
The clouds were like vanilla candy floss
Strewn across the bubblegum blue sky
The sun bathed everything in gold like melted butterscotch
Such sweet conditions for such a bitter day
It smelled of sunshine and cinnamon sticks
Unlike the salty tears that made their way past my lips.

Then it popped like bubble gum,
And all the sugar melted away
Like a reverse heart beat pounding in my ears
as the sudden realization hit;
that you are no longer here.
Such a sweet pupper to the bitter end
You know that you were loved
As everyone’s very best friend.
For Luke
He was such a sweet pupper

— The End —