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Salty rancher spackle is to Earthy diva smackers as Swinging hotel number is to?
Rippling cling bread is to Three lizard chariots as Indigo lime tangent is to?
Nighttime reunion planet is to Nettle lane scuffle as Soaking spider *** is to?
Fancy trance logs are to Sticky fudge lather as Vivacious gator college is to?
Cheerful blossom face is to Secret tractor rocket as Canned gremlin emblems are to?
Jealous pitchfork generals are to Heartbreaking patchwork veranda as Folding robot noise is to?
Pretty rhino rash is to Lost locket vengeance as Back pocket weather is to?
Frosted candy sidewalk is to Sneaky kook code as Shiny waffle smoke is to?
Sapphire cloud romance is to Magnetic comet lava as Blue triangle envy is to?
Vanishing honey melody is to Thermal elf pajamas as Whistling iceboat shampoo is to?
Peach mint politics is to Frozen doll pennies as Rusty anchor catapult is to?
Swollen pony fever Throbbing sword kazoo as Silent turbine science is to?
Obese germ thunder is to Stacked lemon towers as Corrupt moon jockey is to?
Demented insect whistle is to Glass trophy cleanup as Purple geode bubble is to?
Nighttime razor slime is to Lacquered dragon maps as Tint paper mittens are to?
**** camel drops are to Velvet ****** shoes as Slippery red muffins are to?
Flying hot drool is to Pale chocolate telescope as Tin trumpet ballet is to?
Expensive puppy speed is to Flowered duck mirror as Cosmic needle factory is to?
Fractured laser doodles are to Cracked butter gravel as Rubber holster straps are to?
Majestic panther fortress is to Jeweled cork target as Iron swan taxi is to?
Poisonous pepper bouillon is to ****** goat soap as Chrome feather pirates are to?
Digital gorilla scriptures are to Timid hunter stench as Frozen domino video is to?
Eccentric troll opera is to Transparent wax village as Spoiled coral agony is to?
Bizarre green metal is to Pillow eating hamster as Leather cavern ***** are to?
Eternal hurricane evidence is to Powdered rainbow perfume as Smoking yellow prune is to?
Liquid wish cleanser is to Exploding meadow ladders as Brittle rose hammer is to?
Caged foam filter is to Cherry balloon string as Ivory cactus spider is to?
Carbon puppet watch is to Sad kings compass as Elastic lace whiskers are to?
Nitrogen trolley dust is to Lazy elephant toffee as Orange toad choir is to?
Dark pole zodiac is to Blue finger blanket as Illegal bug nozzle is to?
Stinky towel cookies are to White jade caskets as Sticky snail tea is to?
Converting stellated caramels is to Mythic aerosol socks as Rubber raspberry jokes are to?
Flying clock carousel is to Whisky nut worms as Plastic fish platforms are to?
Queasy Vaseline queens are to Moody pigeon pills as Aqua mice fur is to?
Spotted bowl shadow is to Idiotic radiance lotion as Bungalow toad hearse is to?
Gushing chimney fungus is to Funky lamb acrobat as Utopian **** sprinkler is to?
Twinkling bungalow tablet is to Botanical duck rope as Bug hat ram is to?
Broken clock fossil is to Black ginger confetti as Parisian cobra meatloaf is to?
Silly Xerox ribbon is to Obedient raccoon carny as Traditional cat linguini is to?
Last astral advisor is to Elastic badger riddles as Broken circle rifles are to?
Bagged squire channel is to Temporary mosaic cake as Ancient bacon thread is to?
Wireless math army is to Moronic neon money as Pearl razor radar is to?
Rubber buzzard blizzard is to Troubled bubble wizard as Crushed hash ******* is to?
Purple birdy cure is to Tangled frost blossoms as Silken bridal saddle is to?
Unisex owl accordion is to Sugar bottomed boat as Optical nougat treasure is to?
Flavored saline rain is to Black arrow clan as Transistorized clam guitar is to?
Sharpened twig scar is to Mutant beet sonar as Baked troll mask is to?
Boxed noodle secrets are to Traditional guru buttons as Glossy marshmallow strategy is to?
Vibrating melted jelly is to Silver furniture dream as Spewing collated seats is to?
Burnt mountain pickles are to Baby preacher shoes as Sympathetic pilot pain is to?
Narrow portal treaty is to Monkey warehouse vacancy as Painted tornado trap is to?
Porch penny sulfur is to Glowing pony fat as Patched mattress bait is to?
Frigid waitress fallacy is to Graphic shrimp salute as Misted sneezing window is to?
Moist apple moss is to Daddy’s zoom seed as Downtown Pope cart is to?
Tired felon trickle is to Holographic squirrel candle as Wild ray hay is to?
Deadly zero chalk is to Folding wilderness chart as Curved ******* vacuum is to?
Hollow porcelain pellets are to Strawberry rain stencils as Microwave taxi nomads are to?
Wasted machete balcony is to Crumpled creature confessions as Fridge fuzzed fruit is to?
Sloppy demon damage is to Squeaky puppet chuckle as Mental arcade combat is to?
Monster trout stories are to Lewd pirate cocktail as Locked mammal grommet is to?
Rotting rope network is to Tragic toy goat as Cotton submarine shoes are to?
Complex pepper dance is to ****** cloud cushion as Marching taxi holiday is to?
Mental petal collectors are to Spooned barn putty as Dork factory fiction is to?
Hot spotted tops are to Timed stepping pests as Yogurt notching tartar is to?
Crazy dog comics are to Ambitious cartoon sphinx as Pavlov’s zinc ballet is to?
Soiled spinster wedding is to Padded razor wound as Floating fish map is to?
Slippery leopard pants are to Perfumed nut button as Dart wizard party is to?
Needy alien elephants are to Barking garden gnats as Quasar focused paper is to?
Slanted heart **** is to Bronzed cliff sandals are to Cunning jockey jokes are to?
***** thumbprint massage is to Holistic princess memory as Sliding dental sword is to?
Drifting wood whistle is to Fluorescent carpet powder as Foam dragon whistle is to?
Chopped web shadow is to Immortal vermin soup as Collapsing porch conspiracy is to?
Stolen thunder chant is to Haunted comet heart as Swollen throat portrait is to?
Fragrant frost parfait is to Grumpy caveman *** as Random stingray solo is to?
Squeaky polar turbine is to Silent lava fever as Oversized lunar fulcrum is to?
Synthetic dew droppers are to Pocket poster paste as Hypnotic screen dog is to?
Symbolic whirlpool nausea is to Dreaming tree phantom as Log badge bracket is to?
Camp hippo map is to Horseradish seizure insurance as Distant insect mirror is to?
German lady sherbet is to Stuntman laundry wax as Hungry butterfly ghost is to?
Fly smudged foil is to Amped maze coil as Shifting optic terror is to?
Automatic sheep floss is to Panoramic tanker anchor as Throbbing bone pillow is to?
Mutant clown village is to Nightmare translation treasure as Spotted spectral chakra is to?
Blind roach tweat is to Hermit worm tiara as Divine logo ritual is to?
Glueless gun stamp is to Malicious spam pump as Floral toffee pods are to?
Dudgeon mist removal is to Menacing bolt smacker as Boating duke shadow is to?
Costly metal plungers are to Creaky buzzing gushers as Glowing star cushions are to?
Raked barge sludge is to Crusted cream glitter as Zircon gutter babble is to?
Fake gold scholar is to Amish ******* mogul as Faithful ***** choir is to?
Sacred limo prayers are to Fried mice café as Splintered ****** thimble is to?
Dealing rabbit decals is to Pelican bongo festival as Patched equator rot is to?
Freedom gourd gasoline is to Cobblers studying acorns as Desecrated dice crater is to?
Tattered tapestry rod is to Busted particle scanner as Bogus piffle catalogue is to?
Trifle truffle raffle is to Last lamb laminate as Segmented cake goggles are to?
Domestic tackle tactic is to Ticking tic talk as Cordial corps coordinates is to?
Tucked duck caftan is to Sunken ramp ruckus as Wretched ranch rhetoric is to?
Clearly incomprehensible directions are to Useful archaic nonsense as Antiquated skeletal outline is to?
Bewildered beasts feasting are to Lazy busybodies resting as Vaccinating brave volunteers are to?
Lucky wagon dragons are to Famous gargoyle gargle as Formal postman funding is to?
Furrowed shroud chowder is to Borrowed tartan pajamas as Martini mixed algebra is to?
Cowgirl balloon helium is to Chewy glucose habitat as Stationary monument movement is to?
Diamond powered powder is to Diagonal diameter diagram as Purposely condensed expansion is to?
Organic iodine capsule is to Gleaming beach probe as Dominant dome static is to?
Shaving wrinkled targets is to Petting sensible monsters as Selling invisible whiskey is to?
Frozen piano architecture is to Note dotted clouds as Screaming Korean worms are to?
Sonic plant website is to Telepathic climbing clam as Bored protein exercise is to?
Gourmet mollusk cone is to Numb poodle caravan as Asian raven radar is to?
jules May 2020
he pulled her close on the hospital bed,
their delicate lips connected as one.
the universe spun on its axis
nothing was the same,
it had just begun.
she noticed his deep brown eyes,
glistening caramels in the sun.
Emily May 2013
There you were, with chocolate all over your fingers
And a huge grin plastered all over your face.
You plopped those truffles into your mouth
As if you were a starving child,
Eyes shining, like it was the first time you’d tasted food in weeks.

That night I heard you crying
And when I came into your periwinkle purple room
You had chocolate all down your cheeks
As if your tears weren’t made of salty water
But rather, salted caramels
Melting down your burning cheeks.

There you were, looking so small buried in your mountain of a duvet.
I hugged you, and squeezed you
Told you that if I could, I would serve you chocolate truffles for every meal
With chocolate milk to wash them down.
I asked you what was wrong
And you said you didn’t know.

And you still don’t know.
And still, when I sneak in to kiss your cheek
When the lights are dim and I think you’ve fallen asleep,
My lips meet chocolate tear drops,
And my heart sinks because never has anything so sweet
tasted so bitter.
L Oct 2019
With every word, with every misguidance
This sharp, unbearable thing that digs into the center of me.

This sweetness that I salt ‘till it is nothing but undrinkable sea water.

This love wrapped in the ribbons of Death; almighty Death-

The end of human connection.
Universal Thrum Nov 2013
Ripe Berries
a lifetime on the vine
Forming, filling with desire
Juice brewed in the Seraphim's Cauldron
Whose taste is yet unknown
Its foreign scent of dark cinnamon and salty caramels hang heavy in the air - thick
The season of the blossomed jewel comes, emerging
as a lunar eclipse sailing silent, darkly, ships in the night
hidden from all mortal gaze, except the most discerning eye,
guiding the fortuitous thumb -
meeting the firmly placed finger, to deliver sweetness from the branch to the welcoming tongue,
as the handsome praise of the berry's thorough flavor will reach far into the heights of eternal sensations, soaring beyond planetary lust,
prompting us to fathom the size of the possible
Martin Narrod Feb 2014
Hours. Back. Tideless extreme. Gaunt. Happy face, good luck, forever ago. A go-go. Breakfast. Preference. Slip stream mock tidal bliss. Humpback seal stardom, infinite provocative immortal. Catches me. In between the teeth. Cool, Mach 3. Sumptuous extravagant human meat, flesh game. The flesh game. Heroes air-freight. Wash cloth. Hot breaths. 'ths' and plastic bag I-280 North ***** and sudatorium.

Pick a pepper.
Cow Palace.
Moth ***** and mouth *****.
Tea bags and sore throats.
Presumptuous candid                                            story-telling anomalies, trite

/masterful caustic limping brick-pedaling life-goers in major metropolis wearing leather sandals, whistling\

Whistling deep cavernous chasm bellowing hollowing, in out in out arithmetic.
        
                                                                                        Sand gathers boulders.

Women gather warmer wethers. The weathered. That ton. One of the asinine                                        

                                                        and aesthete.

Curious. Before
clause. The story god.
                                                        The kick of Achilles

                 and the Satan prance. Bleat of the squeeze.
                                        Course set. Picking up the pieces and going spelunking. French maid syndrome. Wan. Wielding the anatomical dollar of the "this-just-didn't-work" childhood.

                                                                                                Wears gloves. Has colds.

Breaks molds, and reads fortune cookies.

Limps                            lifeless, heavy as a Tuesday and digging its own grave. It owns gray. It

makes
meals
and carries them through broken towns,
over smoky ridges,
helping out and just- helping.

The line wakes it.                                        One traffic light.   Three thousand three hundred lakes.

Steals a cell phone. Goes quiet for days in the forest.

Kills a wild pig. Bares a feral hog.

Opens up a can of sour condensed milk and still makes caramels. The open fire. The children gasping and favoring the brave. The score is limitless.



Hours go by.

                                                        ...    ­                                      ...

                      ­                    ...

                                        ­                                            ...

Mites dig into the skins, and the shins of the subtle. The men come back. The palm fronds make excellent roofs. Raised. Reared. Canned food makes abhorrent constipation forest dwelling; syndrome. And excrement. The crowns carry over.

The bejeweled mid-rim equator

                                                               ­                                                 providence.


Ki­ng and queen.
Prince and princess. Knees bend and over and over. Mirthy trammeled lots. Egg white clouds scurry through towns scurrying through. The bastion wall. A romance connecting. Two lovers. The lot. A burrow in the ground. Short-haired hares: run, jump, skip. Life settles. No one comes back. The skin starts to itch. Gratitude is and is not. Worry steps in. The chimes glow through the rorschach tree tops. Fires and combustion. Great oversized bells. Who hears the ringing?

The canopy overcome with splinters, the eyebrows are furnaces that never spit out the light.

Spectacular plight. Unbelievable nights. Feeling fowl in the palms of another                                                        
                                                                        land where weirs and wilds
and roaring waterfalls
                                                decorated with cowards collecting honey
                                                                                                              combs
through hair-strainers, so brave    soo brave, to brave, to hunter-gatherer
African mission-syndrome types in white long coats and sometimes and dangerously called doctors. Do not stop for lines. Do not stop for lions. Or

                        when stuck in the cauldron of the c t a         & cia

do not weave heavily through traffic, railing divorce into the cellular phone of man        . NO ZHE DOES NOT. NO.

No one eats, anymore.
The pleasure is moved.
The happy have landed.
The girl of my dreams is foretelling, foretold. She climbs into a lunchbox and heads to work. She digs her nails into her skirt and chimes for dinner.

All is sentimental and elementary. No one is everyone. There is something human in the air.

Something cumin in the water. I love in French in English. In Germanic.

I'm in the water. Feet stuck in the mud. Hands flailing, I'm naked contemplating making shark moves, one hand flat-out, vertical, putting on a show for ducks and swallows.

The women return. The girls come back. Catastrophe and the merriment of the seven deadly fellows.

I run around Sue
and move back.                         I come to the coast to see what's the matter. It's blue. A cinder blanketed snow home. An igloo. An ice tale of curiosity, of  

                two cities, twisted cities. Mad dragons and weirder wizards that rear silver and portage the weirs of Elk Grove, thru the elk homes
humming bizarre cantatas, making Raspberry jellish and relishing

inthelast
lightsofthemorning

of an

interruption. The wanton exercise. The carnivorous machismo.
We work out with our quirks out and lead with the flaws. A tailored finite saw. A ringing through the air. Who can hear the ringing?                

Makes the men to swine, to mew muses. And get choosy on cabooses while

saving Moose.

                                                  maybe like Salvatore Dali would have done

He would halve none of it and brim over with it all.
Make cape flight from coastal waters. Riding the thermal winds of

North Africa, Tomato, and Japan;                              

BEARDEDfrogOFprinceGENEALOGYneededTOO     ...  ...  ... ....  .. . . ... ..

To sew buttons. To bring the water from the well. The shrimp from the levy. We all go to war on Sundays. We hate on Tuesdays,





but the women never come with the water.


                         [now you're supposed to ask if they keep it for themselves]

sad-leis         'end nose.'

I can't but we can. You don't and I hate you for it.

I smell you on socks

                                                          ­                          .On pillowcases and bullet casings. I'm hot and hard to handle. I lay down in front of forklifts trying to bulldoze shopping malls. I am too and too sentimental. I have a 25¢ ring from a vending machine. I love it. I love you. I go to the bottom room. Blue carpet. **** carpet. Tilted blinds. I find the moors and the heaven. I put my books and a sweater in a sack and I start moving. No ones ever seen me move like this. It's like I had revolution for breakfast. I sip a small glass of orange juice. Orange colored juice. I'm off like a stereo and walking through and through up into a story. I'm making life easy with my purple crayon. I draw a canyon and a boat too. The boat can't float so I draw myself an ocean, a coastline. I call out for my friends and no one is there, so I draw friends. I draw the seashore, the plateau. I make other ships. I shift in my seat, it's uncomfortable so I make it leather. I write a letter but it flies away with a pigeon. I'm stuck on a peninsula, crying. On the front step of a friend's tenement and I'm sobbing. I'm waiting for the waif and she's not coming. I think her over with coffee all alone in a diner, and eventually I have to leave. I trail like an autumn sun, splashing bits of earth with my tepid light. I plash in the sea and still I'm very alone. I run my fingers through my hair and find a find a crown to make myself king. I'm heir to my own home, but it's not good enough. It never was. I grow curiouser and curiouser. I don't know what to do, I'm without. I'm without use. Eight months on top of six years, on top of the second floor of a third floor building, it's hot, and I'm locked out, I'm fighting off weakness and indecision. I'm starving and I haven't eaten in days. I'm confused and the ******* seems the rite. I've got no one to call and I start swimming. I start swimming in circles. I get verbal. I start crawling and drawling and soon I'm weeping in a brutal drawl. And I can't hear you. And all I have is the coastline and the ocean, a plateau,

a yacht club full of empty vessels. A flotilla of friends but there's


eh                                                            ­                        eve             nobody home.

And I see you. I meet you. I mean to meet you. But I can't. I can't move or be moved. I can't speak or be made to speak. I am gripped by your love and yet wrapped in fear. In the rapture of fear. Its rancor grips me. So I stand up. I'm halved and naked and half naked. In the sea. And I see you.

And I seem you, to me. I seam you to me.
Rowan Carrick Feb 2011
Cupid’s ***** must be candy hearts and colored cards
His rough night must end in heaving twisted over the toilet bowl, boxes of chocolates and caramels dumping into its porcelain chamber
Naked, he probably limps into his canopied room
Pulling shut the purple curtains, climbing heavily into his bed of roses
Head throbbing, beautiful blonde curls drenched in sweat
Waking up soaked in fallen tears; flower petals
Gaby Comprés Jul 2014
in my pocket i keep
words from the sun
with light to shine
through the cracks of
your heart

in my pocket i keep
wildflowers and daisies
lovely and bright for
you to place on
your hair

in my pocket i keep
mints and lollipops
and chocolates and
caramels to sweeten
your day

in my pocket i keep
bad jokes and funny
stories from years
past to bring out
your smile

in my pocket i keep
pennies for you to
wish on a well so
that you never forget
your dreams.
I want my life to inspire others, I want to make a difference in others' lives, to be an encouragement for those who need to be encouraged. I want my words to build others up and I hope this poem shows a glimpse of my heart.
blushing prince Nov 2016
The house smelled of vacant parking lot gasoline
it always had that odor, the one where things are very seldom touched
and the flies build their nests atop the sweaty ceilings
my  footsteps were perfectly carved into that carpet, like snow angels

when we had first moved in the floor was a soft white
with time, it bared resemblance of an old man who hadn’t shaved in two
days and wore the same tweed jacket every day
coming home was like a war kissing a forest fire,
those days the air felt colder
the television spit into the raw eyes of a man who called himself a father
this could have meant something had it been years later
and it would have been important had it happened twenty years before

I will say with confidence that in those days the earth was colder
specifically numb in those people whose hearts are like plastic containers full of
marbles, however, the world could seem like a refrigerator at times
to a 15 year old girl with the eyes of caramels
You could say that the poetry started with the dead houseplants
or the mother that secretly smoked cigarettes inside the laundry room
but the beginning starts with finding cherry trees in the
mouths of two twin girls that lived across the street, the
one with the lawn intestines spilling from their front porch

there is no one in the universe like you, that holds true especially
with people who play with guns and the boy that was born with fins
but, there is a difference with identical twins
Siamese children who lick each others’ spoons
and never have the correct name assigned to them
spending all of eternity looking in the mirror
******* telepathically, and who can blame them
                                                    
2

Pe­ppermints.
All of my memories have the taste of peppermint being
rolled around the tongue on an afternoon
and my mind waters.
I am especially reminded of this when I walk up the subway one night  
and the shadows seem liquefied and I could be anywhere but instead I am
in a city where no one makes eye contact and
my jacket still has the tag as it bites into my skin
I can hear the clatter of my shoes on stark concrete, the wobbly way I never grew into my own shoes
as a man approaches, jogging quickly carrying with him a suitcase
I notice he has a slight misstep to his walking and suddenly he sprints into a jog  
rushing, he slams into my elbow throwing me off balance
and the smell of peppermint is stronger now, resilient,
powerfully filling my head like nicotine  
as he violently slips his hand into my pocket
darts quickly back  and starts running ahead, never  looking back not once
Within seconds he is gone
I don’t realize what has happened, afraid that someone somewhere
in the dark distance, inside a car with tinted windows is watching me
observing my movements, wondering if I will call out to someone
My mouth is dry as I feel into my pocket and realize there is a note inside
it is a metallic sheet of paper with an address inviting me to paradise  
in the back of the card, there is nothing but  a meticulously engraved
spider, sinister in its appearance and yet reminding me that I am no longer a child.

Suddenly I remember; it’s Valentine’s Day.
3

In those days the screams of crickets were louder, much heavier.
Like the dew couldn’t stop them from rubbing their legs against their backs.
As if summer was an aphrodisiac for the mentally suave and the utterly alive.
Such convictions never last, I was an insect that year
an everlasting metamorphoses slowly molding my body
an eternal cocoon coating my veins and never shedding
these nuances of growing up, despite all this I was still a child wrapped
in a blanket that didn’t cover my feet anymore.
My mother used to go down to the basement on a regular basis,
I called it the swamp because it always made me feel as though I was
trudging through quicksand in a valley down below, separate from our own house
but that place was heaven to her I realized, the carbon monoxide clouding her head
the grassy windows, the way the clothes shrank in on themselves, like lungs but
never actually breathing, just inhaling
I don’t think she ever knew anyone was watching her, but I always was.
I would wake up at exactly the time my father left for work, or what we believed was work
and I would take my red binoculars and glide through the living room causing friction
with every step I took, passing the rooms of my older siblings down to hell
opening the door carefully, I would walk down two steps and stay there motionless
pressing my eyes into the glasses and staring
These endeavors proved futile, and once I had the ability to leave the house I never
looked back with nostalgia, never missed the coughs or the curled fists
but in those moments, I felt  time move slower, I could have stayed down there
a shameless spy, a trustworthy confidante
But life had better things for me than looking in on death, thought it more
suitable to touch horror than to always be catching glimpses of something
As boring as suicide

There was a day when things didn’t match the rest
I can blame this on naïve intuit or the childish way I chose to see things
It was Saturday and it was the 14th of February
Normally, my father was home by noon but today it was different
the air was stale, there was no movement in the house
It was beautiful outside and the only rarity was that there was a
taxi car parked outside our neighbor’s house
I stood up, poised as ever in the middle of the hallway
Had I looked deeper outside I would have noticed a strange man
next to the taxi car looking into our house, nodding his head with the
Rhythms of the grandfather clock, but I didn’t and who was I to know
As I gripped my binoculars walking into the place I knew so well
I didn’t know what I was to expect, there was an uncertainty
Behind the door that I felt what I had never felt before and have never felt since that day
However the long pause was it didn’t stop me from opening the door
walking down two steps and peering into my treasured binoculars
I didn’t know who I was supposed to find
Nelsya Feb 2016
Monochromatic scene was displayed
Within the darkness of night
Where they built the tents
and held the game of fate
For them to finally met,
to cross each other's paths

As they roamed around the circus
The smell of caramels
also the scent of daydreams
Filled their minds and hearts
With warmth and hopes

Blurry images moved pass them
As the carousel drove them into dizziness
of an overwhelming feeling
Which was dangerous
For them to endure

Golden flames illuminating
While they took a dance
under the moonlight
Though they realize
That their feelings were eternal enigmas
Which would take lifetime to solve

But they also know
The hidden secrets
About the silver linings
Holding every possible dreams
Filled with rays of happiness
Within the night circus
Mary Ann Osgood Jun 2010
She held her fists between her lips
and chewed them
as if they were caramels
or beef jerky (she loved meat).
Stopping only to taste her own fear,
she became an enemy of herself
and dreaded the taste of her hands.

She kept her eyes averted
or crossed because she was crazy,
and chuckled silently
behind her eyebrows.
Maybe she was keeping up an image
to show that she was afraid of change,
or maybe she wasn't.

She kept her mind
under her tongue
and pressed down on her thoughts
until they were altered.
She let her ideas mix with her spit
and swallowed them until she was full,
or until her mind was empty.
Broadsky Nov 2021
if all our minds were candy dispensers
then a penny for my thoughts would get you a taste of sour on your tongue
you'd grimace and scowl and feel it in your lungs
and i'd ask "did it feel like running through a candy store when you were young?"

caramels,
chocolates,
cinnamon candy too

there's always enough bad thoughts to go around,
which one do you choose?

I'll take the pills they tell me to
some sugar helps the medicine go down,
isn't that true?

i'll just have to wait and see
and in the mean time i'll try to believe
that being 24 is really hard
at least that's what they've told me

a heaping double scoop of asperity
leaves my guests looking at me warily
giving me just a cake sliver of clarity

I'm getting tired of eating macaroons,
I hope my time here in candy land ends soon.
I’m finally starting to feel better.
RIVR Jan 2018
his soft caramel eyes that turned hazel after i tainted them with my green ones.
his smooth, wavy, chocolate hair.
skin, italian-grade, like leather,
but so unlike leather—smooth with youth.

crêpes and croissants
chocolate covered strawberries
champagne in chipped glass
dipped in gold
marinating my love for him
marinating my seduction
i am a sugarcoated anomaly

diamond-crested gummy bears
caramel cappuccinos
gas stations at three A.M.
swimming naked in lakes
soft waters, slippery bodies

the kind of memories i would like to have.
Martin Narrod Apr 2015
I don't want you to ever have to be alone Elizabeth.
I know too many amazing flower shops for you to have your vases in your cabinets.
I have too many wonderful blankets and even better pillows that you should have any trouble sleeping Elizabeth.
I haven't told anyone that you wrote Frankenstein.
I didn't tell them that Mary Shelley was your grandmother Elizabeth.
There's a creperie on Diversey if it's still there.
Do you like caramel Elizabeth?
I once made caramels in a tin *** on an open flame, it tasted like burnt.
What tastes do you remember Elizabeth?
I know too many fantastic places that your eyes should ever be tired, too many places where trees grow that you should have to keep your feet on the ground.
Electricity couldn't ground you Elizabeth.
Mike Tyson should cut off his ears for you.
The hair on your head is too beautiful that you should never have a reason to go out Elizabeth.
I know the magic that comes out of your mouth, you own silence it should never own you.
I was silence Elizabeth.
I was silence and charade and death and alone.
But then I met you Elizabeth, then I met you.
I would take two bullets for you.
Even if you want to hold the gun.
Very best viewed
Across a contrast
Musculature, two
Destined, real life
Not fancied, true

A drifting, small
Light, dark hairs
Golden shades in
Caramels hues, an'
Sun kissed skin
Raven haired touch
Deep hearted miss

Listen: music tuned
To stars singing
Pro-claiming us
A chariot's hum
The different drum

This enchanted time
Not worthy of
Words, deed or play
But including love
I seek you
Jewel M C Nov 2016
If I could be compelled to let my heart wander freely,
It would surely guide me to a vivid vision of Hartwell street.
As I make my way, stumbling, I cannot help but detour, briefly,
Unable to refuse an indulgent moment at the corner candy store;
I graciously gather in my hands all the caramels I couldn’t possibly eat.
Sugar fueling my eager spirit, I follow the road to a familiar bend,
In passing I watch the boys play hockey in the street.
Strolling along the cracked pavement, I stop before a supreme suburban château
Taking a breath before swimming in a pool of fond reflection,
I open the gate and let my lungs fill with the inescapable summer heat.
Walking down that eternal driveway, I cross the stretch of yard
Led by my heart’s desire and the bare bottoms of my feet.
Smells of barbecue blend with the sweet taste of pink watermelon
And I’m suddenly craving to chase after the glowing fireflies,
Overcome with a feeling so pure, yet so bittersweet.
If I could, even if only for a moment
Return to 5714 Hartwell street,
I know that I would, in a heartbeat.

But where that tall, brick house once stood
stands another home, much more ordinary,
with a vacancy for memories; forever incomplete.
a memoir of Buni's old house that was filled with so many wonderful childhood memories
Maahv Z Nov 2014
It got no meaning while you all say
Forget it – this matters nothing
My dab brain never understood
The logics- or the passions
I couldn't submersed with your identities
Or ideologies  here it is despite all the banishing
Have you long gone missing elsewhere?
Just our caramels and sweetness – or the madness
I couldn't care about it; I couldn't mend anything
While for all the mistakes
And all the words..It all consumed my thoughtfulness
Nor longing to express- any wildest idea
Or fancy thoughts ..i deem to be a mad one
in somewhere else; whom you could not wish to be with
Now all your bones crackle up inside
Breaking up- decaying minute by minute
I'm set off on roads again – not desiring to be known
Had to desire too much of my desires!
We ain't know what is all about- and your creepiness
There was a moment- some hid moments
Where I ought to be good..you got me
You get me going with nowhere..and I sent my hopes to wondering winds
Swirling around like myself
Where they all existed once …letting go became too common
It cease to occur who were they; in real
And the reality got polluted forever !
vf Mar 2015
My mother thinks I'm not myself with her anymore (because I'm not, and how could I be?). I don't miss the child who danced in department stores, caught caramels from July 4th floats. I am not her, and she is not me. Her sparkling smile has lapsed away, eroded into the sexiness I attempt to allude now. As if being fuckable was something more enriching. At twenty, I'm smaller than I ever was before. Weaker, even, because of my smallness. I've been gripping onto the edge of the daily routine, and felt my palms ache at the attempt. My hands burn, rope cuts skin. I'm forgetting what's within now. A certain strength I could muster at one time has all but left me with a wet kiss on the cheek. Life sneers Try again later, sweet heart. Test your luck one more time...
Nabs Jan 2016
She's the girl that'll give you cavity.
Dusted with soft white sugar.
Hair fluffly like cotton candy.
Skin as brown as caramels.
Lies as sweet as
the dimples when she smiles.
Part two of the girl class
Isobel G May 2016
I want to savor you like fine wine.
When I pull you close
it feels like I'm fireside,
and your embraces taste
like soft caramels dissolving on my tongue.
© Nicola-Isobel H.          24.05.2016
Martin Narrod Apr 2017
Hours. Back. Tideless extreme. Gaunt. Happy face, good luck, forever ago. A go-go. Breakfast. Preference. Slip stream mock tidal bliss. Humpback seal stardom, infinite provocative immortal. Catches me. In between the teeth. Cool, Mach 3. Sumptuous extravagant human meat, flesh game. The flesh game. Heroes air-freight. Wash cloth. Hot breaths. 'ths' and plastic bag I-280 North ***** and sudatorium. Pick a pepper. Cow Palace. Moth ***** and mouth *****. Tea bags and sore throats. Presumptuous candid story-telling anomalies, trite masterful caustic limping brick-pedaling life-goers in major metropolis wearing leather sandals, whistling. Whistling deep cavernous chasm bellowing hollowing, in out in out arithmetic. Sand gathers boulders. Women gather warmer wethers. The weathered. That ton. One of the asinine and aesthete. Curious. Before clause. The story god. The kick to the Achilles and the Satan prance. Bleat of the squeeze. Course set. Picking up the pieces and going spelunking. French maid syndrome. Wan. Wielding the anatomical dollar of the "this-just-didn't-work" childhood. Wears gloves. Has colds. Breaks molds, and reads fortune cookies. Limps lifeless, heavy as a Tuesday and digging its own grave. It owns gray. It makes meals and carries them through broken towns, over smokey ridges, helping out and just- helping.

The line wakes it. One traffic light. Three thousand three hundred lakes. Steals a cell phone. Goes quiet for days in the forest. Kills a wild pig. Bares a feral hog. Opens up a can of sour condensed milk and still makes caramels. The open fire. The children gasping and favoring the brave. The score is limitless. Hours go by. Mites dig into the skins, and the shins of the subtle. The men come back. The palm fronds make excellent roofs. Raised. Reared. Canned food makes abhorrent constipation forest dwelling; syndrome. And excrement. The crowns carry over. The bejeweled mid-rim equator providence. King and queen. Prince and princess. Knees bend and over and over. Mirthy trammeled lots. Egg white clouds scurry through towns scurrying through. The bastion wall. A romance connecting. Two lovers. The lot. A burrow in the ground. Short-haired hares: run, jump, skip. Life settles. No one comes back. The skin starts to itch. Gratitude is and is not. Worry steps in. The chimes glow through the rorschach tree tops. Fires and combustion. Great oversized bells. Who hears the ringing? The canopy overcome with splinters, the eyebrows are furnaces that never spit out the light.

No one eats, anymore. The pleasure is moved. The happy have landed. The girl of my dreams is foretelling, foretold. She climbs into a lunchbox and heads to work. She digs her nails into her skirt and chimes for dinner. All is sentimental and elementary. No one is everyone. There is something human in the air. Something cumin in the water. I love in French. In English. In Germanic. I'm in the water. Feet stuck in the mud. Hands flailing, I'm naked contemplating making shark moves, one hand flat-out, vertical, putting on a show for ducks and swallows. The women return. The girls come back. Catastrophe and the merriment of the seven deadly fellows. I run around and move back. I come to the coast to see what's the matter. It's blue. A neige built snow home. An igloo. A tale of curiosity, of interruption. The wanton exercise. The carnivorous machismo. We work out with our quirks out and lead with the flaws. A tailored finite saw. A ringing through the air. Who can hear the ringing? Makes the men to swine, to amuse muses. To sew buttons. To bring the water from the well. The shrimp from the levy. We all go to war on Sundays. We hate on Tuesdays but the women never come with the water.-

I can't but we can. You don't and I hate you for it. I smell you on socks. On pillowcases and bullet casings. I'm hot and hard to handle. I lay down in front of forklifts trying to bulldoze shopping malls. I am too and too sentimental. I have a 25¢ ring from a vending machine. I love it. I love you. I go to the bottom room. Blue carpet. **** carpet. Tilted blinds. I find the moors and the heaven. I put my books and a sweater in a sack and I start moving. The none-ones ever seen me move like this. It's like I had revolution for breakfast. I sip a small glass of orange juice. Orange colored juice. I'm off like a stereo and walking through and through up into a story. I'm making life easy with my purple crayon. I draw a canyon and a boat too. The boat can't float so I draw myself an ocean, a coastline. I call out for my friends and no one is there, so I draw friends. I draw the seashore, the plateau. I make other ships. I shift in my seat, it's uncomfortable so I make it leather. I write a letter but it flies away with a pigeon. I'm stuck on a peninsula, crying. On the front step of a friend's tenement and I'm sobbing. I'm waiting for the waif and she's not coming. I think her over with coffee all alone in a diner, and eventually I have to leave. I trail like an autumn sun, splashing bits of earth with my tepid light. I plash in the sea and still I'm very alone. I run my fingers through my hair and find a find a crown to make myself king. I'm heir to my own home, but it's not good enough. It never was. I grow curiouser and curiouser. I don't know what to do, I'm without. I'm without use. Eight months on top of six years, on top of the second floor of a third floor building, it's hot, and I'm locked out, I'm fighting off weakness and indecision. I'm starving and I haven't eaten in days. I'm confused and the ******* seems the rite. I've got no one to call and I start swimming. I start swimming in circles. I get verbal. I start crawling and drawaling and soon I'm weeping in a brutal drawl. And I can't hear you. And all I have is the coastline and the ocean, a plateau, a yacht club full of empty vessels. A flotilla of friends but there's nobody home. And I see you. I meet you. I mean to meet you. But I can't. I can't move or be moved. I can't speak or be made to speak. I am gripped by your love and yet wrapped in fear. In the rapture of fear. Its rancor grips me. So I stand up. I'm halved and naked and half naked. In the sea. And I see you. And I seam you, to me. I seam you to me.
seams inseam truth visionary vision yelp thought pattern circle square heart heartache days day life loss live living poet poetry he him man men write writing streamofconsciousness and you me I it eight month months year years find crowns crown crowned ocean oceans water pacific floored coastline brutal navy earth domes curios curiosity help helpless helplessness hope hopeless hopelessness fighting fight hurt hurting hurtful autumn sun planets moon hate hateful pillows pillow love luck lust **** ******* drugs drug drugging during whirl whirling whirring scared fear fearing godfearing god-fearing hollow hollowing spoiled spoil godless wealth rich but **** can can't naked **** muscle mussels oysters clams sea seashores seashore
Twilight, just after dawn
Your skin, always a shade
From the sun, a kiss
Lighter than dark
Caramels and gold

Oiled, slick
Warped waisted
Sleek and lithe
Sensual grace
You move
So divine
Perfectly tuned

Bright eyes
Animated, cannot hide
Feelings, fire, or thoughts
Hands that fly
With the smallest words

Leggy, with smoothest thighs
Foot arched, high
Making calves slight
Curved in perfect lines
Silly little toes,
Peek and hide
Eight painted lines

Massage and touch
Oiled and fine
Running hands down arms
Working muscles out
Rubbing back, *** and thighs

Flickering lights
Little candles burn down
Let me, my Love
Caress you, slow
Fingers, feet,
Neck and toes; always
Yours, just ask
Lin Oct 2016
Hey there,
In this tiring yet beautiful night,
I just want to share my 1 A.M. thoughts.

Dear you,
I fell in love for who you are today
But fell deeper,
For what you've been all this time,
I like spending time alone,
But with you,
Time has become more precious,
I used to wait for rainny days,
But with you,
Every moments become my favourite,
I like all of your bright side
But your darkest side,
Haunt me to know you more.
You're not a whole box of happiness
Cause you are not a box of chocolate,
You're a box of salty caramels.
You're a whole package of bitter, sweet, salty, and sour.
You made my life complete,
Cause you are, you.

Thankyou, you
Monique Guerrero Oct 2016
Little girl.
You wore your mother like
the warmest sweater
the sleeves were stretched
over your little hands.
She absorbed every color
the world chose to dip you in
but kept the inside blue
because it was your favorite.
Little girl, little girl
You drank your father like medicine
So bitter, yet necessary
I suppose
at least you never intended to overdose
on sticky pride
don’t contort your face so
pretend it is honey.
Little girl, little girl
You ate fiction like candy
And it didn’t matter if you had too much
the sugary pages could never give you cavities
but
you dreamed an awful lot
your young mind ****** on fantasy
but what bright eyes
little girl.
The day
you -
Paused.
To look
At the new face in your grandmother’s mirror
the day you discovered
the strings of mother were unravelling
had been unravelling
since the day you were born
since your first kiss
(it was sweeter than fiction. )
that you were running out
of medicine
out of time
to sneak written caramels
(now you have to stash them
behind your bedpost
because that’s where dreams lie)
to be little girl.
You notice you bear your father’s mouth, and smile
so you gaze and study for a while
this new woman
who is not
little girl
but rather Big
and Defined.
You smile once more
and rise like the red sun
and take a step out the door.
my aunt never read the last chapter of the return of the king
just so, my tongue and lips are heavy with all the 'g's 'o's and 'b's
of all the goodbyes i never asked them to shape

goodbye sounds like a bathtub
a place where you sit and you soak and bubbles float
and you think a but
and you sift through the dirt that rests on your skin
and try to ignore the dirt that lives in your skull
and rests in the crevices of memory fences
where the paint has worn away,
leaving a map of paint chips scattered on the ground
to lead you to where your sea meets your sky,
that cognitive horizon, clouded by brainfog,
its map fallen from fence posts stripped from trees where lilacs used to grow
and now line your thoughts like the cellophane
that lined the caramels that came out of piñatas at your old birthday parties

i think about that sometimes
how the return of the king must have been so important to my aunt
that she went and stripped posts from her own lilac tree
or maybe it was an apple blossom (my aunt is from connecticut)
but whatever it was, she built that memory fence
she waited to say goodbye and then she never did
and i'm sure she sits in bathtubs sometimes and looks at the soap
and wonders if it would be easier to wash her face
if she knew what it would look like afterwards
Hannah Christina Nov 2019
My heart is heavy.
A little bit heavy.
Not like lead
or rocks
or ice.

It is one too many blankets, starting to sweat;
overthink socks, starting to itch;
cold caramels refusing to soften. It is

one too many blankets and
just a little bit comforting.
Mateuš Conrad Dec 2017
hell originates out of an interest in fear -
heaven:
        [sic] out of a pride
                          in self-righteousness -

emano infernum ex timor in res -
paradiso:
               ex similis sic infernum similis
                     in paradiso -
ex superbia in ius esse pro bono ut mei.

social justice warriors (secular)
are met with virtue signalling warriors
(catholics)...

     could this would this ever be
bound to an unavoidable conflict of interest?
hardly...
                  
                       i am my grandfather's keeper...
whatever is left of me as retaining
an atheistic economics of communism...
i was always deemed by him to
be a good citizen...
          
                                   ah... minor compliment
it would seem...
                    what does it matter now?

what then is inferno contra paradiso?
        
hey, don't blame me for latine porcus -
i went to a catholic school
   and was taught jack-**** when it came
to latin...
                it might not be private
english school latin...
         it might as well be deemed
graffiti latin...
                         but then my teachers
should have taught me better...
                    
       the acronyms are actually
              accurate...
   no one speaks of virtue signalling warriors,
but they do exist...
                and by now, all that actually
matters is a few more ms. amber(s)
and serpentine(s) of carbonated caramels
  and ******* off to sleep.
I'm happening in between
The real and the nothingness,
Divided and undecided,
Waiting for the ultimate prove
Of a sure choice.

I'm caught between
The wheels and the leather,
Cotton and glycerin,
Fruits and caramels,
Meats and grains,
Wind and coal,
But existing in all of them at once.

There's pain, passion and desire
In the seek of gold,
In pursuit of patents,
In achieving medals.

There's a unique relaxation
In the void of beings,
In dematerializing that inner voice,
In decharacterizing oneself,
But still self recognizing simultaneously,
An identity stored in the clouds
Like Theseus' ship.

The subtle finding
Is to realize that the actually real stuff
Are the ones that can't be touched;
Everything in matter
Are nothingness, perceived only
Through the illusion
Of the senses.
Jen Oct 2020
I charted stars to study you
The orbs of the heavens mirror your eyes
the song of stars was you
And the milky way caramels in your tongue

You have the rings of saturn as a halo
And the wrath of mars

You have the spirit of the sun
Too close, i burn.
But at a safe distance, you make my flowers

In my sky continually,  jupiter
But like pluto,  you are rogue

I charted stars to study  you
To find the universe is profound
And I found to count our love in light years

We journey  in the speed of light
On opposite perspectives
I just have seen the brightest gleam
But for you ,  no more
Delton Peele Oct 2020
The taste of love once bitten  ambrosial  insatiable
Saffron infused whipped honey butter
The flavors of the colors plumb crazy purple
Candy apple red sugary sparkling white
Glossy ebony. Red cherry kukabura  licorice
Deep blackberry
soft glowing pink spiked with wisps of magenta ,coral and tastefully splattered
With clouds snowy white and airy.
The Mojave desert drenched
And still wet shimmering in hues of golds sparkling as seen through pouty  eyes.
The taste of passionate sweat
And and the ultimate quench
The tears of love
Oh the mere mention of which fills the well of my eye
Countless pillows saturated
From the seemingly endless nights
That should have been............
Instead i writhe alone, in a hot sauna ,glistening
Minds twistining in this insatiable plane
*** drive insain i m thinkin my brain stuck in puberty
Bristling with i wanna
And im cursed with a perfect pornographic
Memory in perpetual  purgatory
Im sick withit
I notice a whip of your hair , an extra long stare
The nap of your neck
That look of" i dont care if youre here or there
You are of no interest to me"
Whith respect i try to discretely slip away.
Im hypnotized with a bellicose glare thats saying
Dont you dare try to walk away from me.
Come to me later when im alone
You have something i need .!
My blood instantly boiling under your spell all the way home i san smell your gaze upon me.
I have no will i am your Renfield
Im in love with being sealed in your fate
And this seether you have me steeped in
Caged temporally is only temporary
I am whodini shifting Nosferatu
You thought you had me
Sorry i have you under me and you invited me in
I ve got a fever ........
etiquette and inhabitions obscured
Sleepy eyed smirk i picture you and I
In an oasis under an ****** blue sky.
You in a jean skirt
Compassed about by lush deep green
Your favorite song nothing you do could be wrong
Im outa my mind your twerkin
And i can almost see your. .........
<{****}>
kicked off the gong show for lude behavior
Thats just sillyness .
Seriously im lascivious
Enough about me all i want is everything
About you
Succulents thriving in the august month draped in a glistening canopy
Of moist oceanic breeze.
everything joyful inviting. caramels
Almonds, sticky sweet baklava......
Mangoes and sticky rice....
Thai ice tea and coffee.
Honey do dripping cloves and cinnamon........wild mountain blackenblueberry jumble pie with extra  crumble and saturday winter soup
And summer sunday fried chicken
Bliss .....concord grape claufatis Di Sorono with fresh squeezed murcotts
Whith a drizzle of chambord
Panne de homone
And the tickle of a little humming birds tounge flicking your earlobe
Felt but not heard
The flavors mixing
shake not stirred
The first drink youll savour and with a woulnded heart you will slide down to the bottom of the glass looking for more
Its such a rush that you chase it knowing its ultimately
What you live for
Wanderlust,indescribable wontedness,
Mysterious,intoxicatingly exotic
Dangerous cocktail of eclectic electricly charged concoctions
On the cusp of poisonous
depending whom you share it with
could be the breath of life
Releasing you from stress and strife........could be the kiss of death ..................
Could be a soulmate could be the best thing the world has ever seen ..........inspiring ...................creator of king a Queen ....
Nations are built and conquered by her
Mountains moved.
Its what makes life worth living.
Once smitten the world abounds
Heaven smiles
You bath water feels like milk
And smells like lilacs an hyacinth
Youre gowned in silks and satin
Everything becomes new
in vibrant pastels and unimaginable
Muse
Flavors mingle .....
Personally to me its..........
It starts with honey and black licorice sucrets
Turning to orange an whip cream then fresh crunchy cherries
Enhanced with the essence of you
Like the sugar cube on a stick
I pour my Absinthe through


And as our pallets change along with life
As they always do one thing remains constant
I follow my heart and
always winds up in you !
Sorry forget me knot two.the second spell prequel

— The End —