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Day Dec 2012
I want cheesey garlic bread!
alas, it's all that's in my head-
and if lactose I could tolerate,
this might not be such a debate.

though I'm sure my body could conform,
but it's taken this long to reform!
from the **** and mucus that is dairy,
that will surely turn your knuckles hairy.

I'll eat a piece of gluten toast,
for it only makes my tummy bloat,
but from cheese I must stay far away,
unless I want my **** to spray.

it's a sign, I think, that my body rejects
such a harmful product, my body protects
but god ****** I want garlic bread,
the cheesey kind, it's in my head...
Jellyfish Dec 2014
You taught me how to be pro,
It's not like I was ever proficient,
Tibbers goes where he pleases.
But of course you knew that,

You've always been 100 percent-
Cheesey. And because of that,
You sound silly all the time.
Well, okay maybe that's a lie.

But you are a true goof ball.
And I know I'm a dork, but
You catch me when I fall.
And I love that about you.

Shh, that's supposed to be a secret.
Oh yeah, I mean.. it's not like I meant it.
We all know he's an idiot, right?
Wrong. But I won't keep going on.

What am I saying? My words are all over-
The place. Look me straight in the face.
I want you to know that I want to embrace-
You. But I'll give you your space, it's okay.

I don't need it.
My heart is
Complacent.
You are my-

Inspiration.

To land that stun.
You know I will.
We'll get the ****.
Don't say you're done.

We got this Thunder Lord,
Now don't be blunt.
Tell me your opinons,
You know I want to hear em'

Whether it's about past topics,
Or about what I'm writing.
Tell me what you think about-
Anything, just don't get toxic.
Jellyfish Dec 2014
Is something you called me once.
Is it so bad that I thought it was-
Adorable as ****? I hope it's not,
Because that sure would ****.

We use to be closer,
I wish that we still were.
But you and I are in-
different, time-zones that is.

My self confidence has lowered,
Since we've become distanced.
It's true Thunder Lord,
Do you fear my existence?

I wonder if you do.
While you're up top,
Being ******-Dooby-Doo!
You know I have no clue.

I'm gig- gig- giggling so hard,
Right now. Who knew that this,
Scrub Lord could be such a clown?
I guess I knew, somewhere deep down.

I feel pretty silly writing all of this now.
After all you've labeld me.
Which I've done to you as well.
But it sure as hell wasn't easy.

I wrote this kind of fast.
Using memories from,
The past. A past that
Includes you in the cast.

I hope you don't mind me,
Spilling all of this out now.
I just didn't know how to say-
This stuff, it's kind of sacred.

Like a cow is to someone who-
Believes in Hinduism. Oh man,
I feel like I'm crossing some lines,
So I'll finish up, just give me time.

But it is true,
I do miss you.
And I wonder,
If you miss me to.

I don't care about what's happened.
Really, it's in the past now.
And I don't go there that often.
Just when I need to remember something.

So tell me ol' Voli?
Am I still your Annie?
I am being so cheesey.
Just say you'll support me.

And I promise I'll carry-
You.
v V v Oct 2011
Fat footed
two ton tessies
tattooed with
tigers, growling
under bulging hips,
bustin' out shocks
on Datsuns K cars
Le Sabres, 1998
primer gray bondo
and duct tape,
taking up two spots
with a smile.

Streaky squeaky 
automatic doors
bump your nose
to make em go
1972 linoleum
grab a cart
hope you don’t
catch death
from the handle
or worse
feces.

last weeks ads
mixed with new,
who buys 10
of anything?
except beers
and smokes
fried chicken
and maybe
frozen burritos.

“Hey why’s that chicken smell like fish?
How old is that grease anyway?
Ooh there’s a ten-fer on a two-fer pack
of coconut orange sno-*****!”


Mr. I love
Jeff Gordon
matching
mesh hat
and shirt
wants to know

“Does that ten-fer on those two-fers
mean I have to buy 20?”


I don’t know sir,
but Go! Go! Go!
Jeff Gordon #24
hours a day,
always open

“Is that the chicken-fish I smell?
Or am I smellin’ the guy in flippy flops?”


bunions and
scabby hammers
mister please
cover that **** up
asks his wife
or daughter
not sure which

“Are them white bag bar code
cheesey puffs any good? too bad
they aint got a ten-fer!”


Texarkana
back woods
Missilouis
swamp

“mama can we get ice cream?”

red neck
united nations
mullets
macaroni and
cheesey tank tops
 
“Why cain’t we go barefoots in here?”

pork rinds
stew meat
chicken parts
nothing tender
never lean and
never ever 
from New York.
 
Big beer belly
buying beer
gotta count
coin careful
cart carries
cases of Miller
not Lite
not Genuine Draft
Hi-Life and ‘Ol Roy,

“**** mister, you must have a big dog!”
 
Two tone
skunk hair
holds the Tussin
grabs a
people
mag
 
“what page is my Taurus-scope on?”

power carts
powered down

“why cain’t they keep these thangs juiced up?”
 
basket bulging
ten-fers
that’s why,
two-liter Tab
Twinkies and
tator-tots.

Time to
check out
10 items
or less
12?
don’t matter,
checker has
checked out
bagger brags
more than bags
 
“I sees you folks got a kitty cat! My kitties
just love the leftover chicken-fish!”

 
big deal lady
we have 4 cats too
my pajama bottoms
have been worn
3 times
my hair was
washed yesterday
and yes I am
wearing slippers
but at least
they are
closed- toe.
 
pay the bill
 
ring the bell

load the car

drive away

mutter under breath,

I am so much better than these people…
I apologize in advance to my friends across the pond, and to to my American friends in the North, these visions I share may be misunderstood and/or unrecognized....As for my friends who live south of the Mason-Dixon line, enjoy...
A N Friedman May 2013
Could barely get out the door today
Funny, ‘cause I walked away
Amazing how fast you get used to things
How comfortable you get with what the weekend brings
And how fast they end and go away
Left alone to face a new day
Now all left alone with all of this time
Feeling like this will be my last rhyme
Where once there was warm flesh,
Now only cold pillows and dusty blankets
Where there was comfort and company
Bad TV and empty hours
Methodical release and dark sunny days
Punctuated by corporeal storms
Half smiles with the Pyrrhic comfort
The knowledge that this time I did what was best
I stood up, I stand up, I gaze around proudly
And see that I am still an island.
With waves rapidly eroding my shores,
Dents in my harbor from boats that came to dock
And left far too soon
Sun shining on my face to attract new visitors
And I sit and wait,
Trying impossibly to be happy
with just being an island.
Lucky Queue Dec 2012
Cheese
Simply fermented
Curds and whey, minus the whey
Fantastic with meat
And fruit
And bread
Creamy, sweet, and soft
Or
Sharp , hard, and strong
Fancy, or plain
Expensive, artisan, specialised
Cheap, processed, conformed
Cheesey, cheesey, cheese
The poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese. -Gilbert K. Chesterton

Well no longer Gilbert K. Chesterton, no longer...*I was feeling silly today*
Eugene Melnyk Mar 2015
The man woke up.

He walked to his refrigerator hoping to find last nights left over veal, but he doesn't.
He thought maybe it's a sign veal is bad in the morning, so he made his coffee and sat down to watch the news.
Linda Sparoski was on talking about Gun rights.
"I kind've want a gun, but it probably wouldn't be the best idea."
He kept watching until he heard someone at the door.
Paranoid, he crept up to the peep hole.
Peering through he saw an elderly woman delivering what looked to be like a package.
"I wasn't expecting anything... **** it must **** to be her age"
He waited until the frail old woman made her way back to the UPS truck and drove away.
He went outside to pick up the box, only to find it very light. Much lighter than he expected.
On the outside scribbled in blue pen was "The man's name" so he knew it was for him.
He saw it was taped up pretty good, kind've how a child wraps a Christmas present.
He grabbed his kitchen knife.
"Scissors are like double knifes, except you don't need a cutting board."
He put the knife back and grabbed a pair of scissors.
"Scissors are ****** double knifes."
He put the scissors back and grabbed the knife.

When he returned to the box, he seemed to stare at the handwriting for quite some time.
He began to cut into the box.
On removal of the layers of scotch tape was a little note before the rest of the box could be open.
"Promise me?"
He was really confused now.
"I need more coffee"
Chugging his third cup, the man returns to the box.
Determined to open it.
He lifts the ***** keeping the pieces of cardboard box cube shaped, and begins to look inside.
The man sees photographs stacked on top of a few letters.
"Possibly something underneath."
As he dug through he saw a picture of himself dressed as Captain America on Halloween.
He tries remembering that Halloween but just can't quiet do it.
"I was never Cap.. "
He dug through more.
Found pictures of old beach houses he vaguely remembers, some pictures almost looked like a sonic drive through.
Stomach growl.
"Last nights quesadilla"
The man went to his fridge, with no luck of finding this cheesey goodness.
In fact his fridge was empty.
He doesn't remember it being empty.
He starts thinking about Halloween.
The man kicks the box under his coffee table, and stumbles to bed, even though it is only 6:47 pm.
Dreams of sand.
Dreams of sand.
Dreams of water.
Dreams of her.

The man woke up.

He heads to his coffee ***.
He has not made coffee yet.
He heads to his refrigerator to find last nights left over lasagna.
"When did I make that? 2 weeks-ago-ish?"
He does not find lasagna.
His coffee is done brewing.
He walks away without a cup to find the box.
The news was still on. Linda Sparracci was on talking about the man's town.
She said that the man's town was experiencing the worst drought since two thousand and sixteen.
"What year is it?"
The man tries to find a calendar but only finds twelve.
"So it could be 2025, 2026, 2028... Wait."
He deducted that it must be 2026, for this calendar had the most dates circled, and he has felt quite busy recently.
The man then fell.
When he came too he was on the couch.
It was snowing out.

Deciding it must be around December  time, he goes throughout his home looking for objects to wrap up and give to his family.
He finds a box.
The box has a note on the outside
"Promise me"
Without looking through the box, he wraps it up with what he can find.  
Thinking of where to send it, he thinks of the first address he can remember, presumably his parents house, and sends the box off.
"Captain America... "
The man decides to watch Duck Dynasty season 34 for the first time, without seeing the prior 33 seasons.
The man passes out.
Dreams of white.
Dreams of red.
Dreams of death.

The man woke up.

He walked to his refrigerator hoping to find last nights left over veal, but he doesn't.
He thought maybe it's a sign veal is bad in the morning, so he made his coffee and sat down to watch the news.
Linda Spurokik was on, talking about the new Captain America movie.
"I was Captain America once.."
The man gets up to feed his dog.
The man does not have a dog anymore.
The man sits down.
Halloween 3 comes on the television.
He remembers getting her roses, because she was mad he didn't want to go trick or treating.
They ending up going trick or treating anyway.
She didn't like the roses.
The man tries to imagine what Michael Meyers must've felt like.
Being cast so many times over because of his creepy plastic face.
"I bet it was really hard to find other work though..."
The man was unsettled with this thought and turned off the television.
With nothing to more to do, he crawls to bed, even though it is only 6:24 pm.
No dreams
Just blackness.

The man woke up.

He heard someone at the door.
Paranoid, he crept down the stairs to the window.
Peering through he saw a young man delivering what looked to be like a package.
"I wasn't expecting anything... **** it must **** to be that young in this day and age"
He waited until the man made his way back to the USPS truck and drove away.
He went outside to pick up the box, only to find it very light. Much lighter than he expected.
On the outside scribbled in blue pen was "The man's name" so he knew it was for him.
When he opens the box he finds a picture of himself dressed as Captain America and she was beside him.
"Even trying to look ugly she was beautiful."
The man begins to cry a bit.
Gently places the picture down, he digs through more.
He finds an old Valentine's Day card.
"Signed your's forever, love you so much"
The man puts the contents of the box back, and gently pushes it under the table.
He turns the television on and Linda Sadok is on talking about a fire.
"3 dead, 2 injured with 3rd degrees burns along 85% percent of their body"
The man states "****" and turns the television off.
"I'd rather be one of the three than one of the two"
The man grabs the last pack of tostitos he can find, and chows down for awhile.
The man dozes off.  

A few hours later the man awakes.
He house is quieter than normal, but he normally has all the washing machines running so he thinks "all good."
Walking to his refrigerator, he finds it filled with Mexican Taco Hot Pockets.
Not wanting to get fat, he rejects this refrigerator and demands a new one.
He does not get it.
Hot pocket.
He walks to his coffee table.
It is very long.
His box is gone.
Befuddled, he walks to his hallway to check under the door.
Upon opening the door, his house leads to another one of his houses.
It is the same house though, it's just his other one.
Walking to the refrigerator, he finds it filled with ingredients for fresh pesto and Texas toast.
Thinking maybe it would upset his stomach. He throws the fridge down his garbage disposal.
On returning to his living room, he sees a man.
This man is talking to the man about life.
Talking about how long could one go on for in the same space.  
This man tells the man, maybe you should **** yourself.
Get out.
The man has never liked suicide.
But given the preposterous conditions of his life, he thinks about it.
This man says a hand full of advil or a few too many sleeping pills could do it.
The man says no.
"I can't leave, I'm not done yet.
Then, this man asks what the man has not finished yet.
"I don't remember..."
This man tells the man, that he is not Captain America and disappears.
The man disagrees.
"Photo evidence"

The man wakes up.

He finds the contents of the box sprawled all over his chest.
He had fallen asleep on the couch.
He hears her say goodnight.
He says I love you.
There is no one there.
He crawls to bed, and it is 2:34 am.
He cannot sleep.
This man returns to him.
This man asks the man if he had finished what he wanted to finish.
The man says no.
This man asks why once more.
"She's still gone, i'm not letting go"
This man says the man already has.
The man rolls over in his bed.
This man says you've been done here for awhile.
The man pretends to be asleep,
motionless, yet awake for hours.

The sun never came up, because he didn't want it too.
The fridge was always empty, because he didn't want to eat.
The box would appear, because he wanted it too.
She was gone, because he knew she was gone.
He stayed, and kept resealing and opening that box. Day in day out.
Surviving healthy off of nothing at all.

He never left.
Not poetry
Not poerty
Petal pie Aug 2014
Today tastes like
Satisfied saturday lie ins
and accompanied sleepy yawns
Tea in bed
toast crumbs

Today tastes like
Washing pegs I hold in my mouth
while ******* things
out on the line

Today tastes like
Saturday sweetie day
peanut m n m's
and other sugary
treats hooray!

Today tastes like a trip to the zoo
animal antics
fruit bats
meerkats
and tamarin tantrics

Today tastes like
My son's hearty hugs
he's been away all week
with the scouts
a hearty dinner
whilst he recounts
his trip's losers and winners

Today tastes like
brightly coloured family
television shows
of sofa time and
cheesey toes
(before i put the boys
in the bath)

Today tastes like
relaxation
tea and more tea
Maybe I'll allow
myself a
cheeky glass of wine
to further relax
and unwind!
(http://hellopoetry.com/poem/818411/young-poets-write-for-mei-w­ould-ask-that-one-of-the-more-computer-literate-among-you-set-up-­a-collection-for-me-for-all-the-wonderful-contributions/)
Life on the city streets wasn't easy
I lived off top ramen along with the spray cheesey
Panhandlin' all day long just to get on by
It was enough to make a grown pigeon cry

That's right I'm a pigeon, I'm a bird of flight
But I'm a **** *** bird, win evry fight
Don't you talk back or I'll skin you, fly you like a kite
hide up yo kids cause I be coming for em tonight

Bye the way I'm batman.
A dark ******* knight!

So stay inside cause I be breakin in
An innocent pigeon, you'll never see me comin
Stealing all yo stuff an scoopin up yo kids
I'll auction em off, take the highest bid

So don't call me a ****, cause I put a roof over their head
I pay them to work, by that I mean givin head
Later that night we'll all go to bed
Life be good when they **** my **** red

That's right I'm Chester the pigeon
You won't catch me in the kitchen
This poem be over so quit yo *******
I wrote this in a ditch
Victoria Dec 2014
I didn't know what it was
but it's better now that I do
I was disappointed when we didn't
and from there
things changed
and I didn't know what I wanted
but at that moment I knew
I wanted
you
When you think you know what love is, but then someone shows you what it can really be like
Amanda Shelton Sep 2022
Oded to pizza, my crusty friend
with garlic and cheese.

Pizza wishes, the cheesey
crust with tomato sauce
and basil.

Dancing pies cooking in bricked
ovens in the sky, dough slowly
rises melting mozzarella *****
under a cheesey fullmoon over Italy,
cooking upon the heated bricks
of my baked imagination.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton
This was inspired by the pizza I ate for lunch today.
Unique Feb 2018
roses are red, violets are blue
this valentines day all i want is to be with you

i want to be loving you and kissing you
instead of being by my lonesome, missing you

but i know we have the rest of our lives to make up for lost time
and the thought of spending forever with you makes my ardent heart shine
Cathyy May 2014
Amazed and
Breathless
Crazier in love,
Desperate.
Every time i open my eyes
Fading stars become you and i
Grateful for your existence
Hopefully wishing,
I've just started living thanks to you
'Just remember to breathe
Keep it cool count to three
Learn to control how my heart races
Madly for thee'
^ notes to myself, when i picture you in front of me
Only you can make me feel
Perfectly safe even in the darkest of dreams
Question my love, i dare you to
Rant about how its not
Sparks fly with every second i get you free, you're a foot away from where i stand
Time has nothing on us, for darling i am
Utterly and completely in awe with the
Very beautifully drawn detail of your face and your silhouette, i
Wake up feeling like i can do anything, every single day with your voice in my head So do an
Xray on my heart and
You will see, and A to
Z, isn't enough,  i'd need 26 new and different letters to tell you i'm in love, without having it sound cliche..

(But i guess this was still cheesey)
:) if you like this please check out my older stuff! X
Gladys Potter Jun 2012
I boldly face
the desert sands
I run my army
with harsh commands
I swim the deepest
ocean with ease
and what I eat
is mac n cheese

I run for miles
without a break
and first position
is what I make
I wrestle with pros
without hesitation
and what I crave
is that cheesey sensation

I withstand torture
with high endurance
I sometimes wish
I had life insurance
I never quit
or fall to my knees
unless my mom calls me
for mac n cheese
Julia Lane Sep 2013
Even though I go to "bed" at like 9:00
I never manage to fall asleep before 12:00
I'm always up watching Netflix
Or writing cheesey things about him in my head
Or telling my dog how good she is
And the occasional snack/ *** break

Most nights I take a pill
Then I'm still awake
An hour later
Which puts me in this situation
Where I have absolutely nothing to do
Except think
And of course smoke some tree

But mostly think

I think about where we go after we die
How the universe and the multiverse and the galaxies and how we can't possibly be the only intelligent life form in that whole vast thing.
About love and how it plays it's cards
How maybe humans become a wee bit too attached
To things that shouldn't matter
And how I simply didnt have morals for a while
And also how I feel my heart grow less black everytime I admit that
I think a lot about this kid
Who kept me in his life, treated me like a princess
Then lies and betrays and tells me he never cared about me in the first place
I also spend a lot of time about my family
How my dad is so wonderful and so dedicated to doing whats right and pushing past the hard times to make that light in the distance a little bit brighter.
I wonder if my sister cares about me, and if she'll ever let me live my own life. I question her all the time but I also look up to her and aspects of her life I wish I had. How if maybe she treats me like **** because she thinks tough love will scare me straight. How if maybe she treats me like **** because she is jealous of me for being everything she isn't.
Then my mom. My crazy, dramatic, self centered, emotion wrecking ball, disaster mom. How she's always been there to cradle me and hold me and understand me when I don't even understand myself. We get along so well even though I annoy her and she ****** the **** out of me. And we make each other laugh. And we love each other, mostly because we're both a little crazy.
And these thoughts haunt my cerebrum
And keep me from my beauty sleep.
In the end I pop another melatonin and smoke out until my eyes feel like the way my soul feels;

Tired.
Kara Jean Jun 2016
I'm a mess
This is not a confession
I never expected to settle down
I always believed I would be a free spirit running around
Then I found your daddy
He knew and I said I do
I will never understand his fascination with me
We're pretty intense in many ways but we created you, two beautiful babies
You may hate me one day, I will never resent it
I only hope the push and drive I give you makes a difference in this chaotic world
A world you're familiar with at times
I never planned to comprise, life has a way of sneaking up and ******* you from behind
I promise to keep fighting for what you need
Even if you never have the opportunity to see
I'm far from cheesey but your mommy has dreams to make life for you easy
One day, in this place where there may not be a God I pray for you nightly
Blessing your innocent mind and holding onto you tightly
m May 2022
god you self-righteous, idealistic ****
I don’t like your old poetry
it all feels too cheesey— and it’s overly emotional
write something fresh, publish something better
get the anger out (you can’t bottle it up)
if you’re going to explode then do it through a pen
or at least, leave yourself out of it
there’s so much wrong in this world
write about that
I know you have at least 10 poems
angry, political ones
just sitting in your notes app
waiting to be jolted to life
pull the lever, Dr. Frankenstein
This Monster Kills Fascists.
Idk, just something random. I think I’m back. I’ll post those angry poems eventually. I’m very upset with the current state of the world, especially in America. I cry almost every day. But it’s okay. I’ll live. (To be clear, I am a liberal and I understand the need to “vote blue no matter who”. I voted for Biden. However, I am heavily critical of the Biden administration. I am also extremely frustrated with the Supreme Court, which when you think about it, is 45’s fault.)
Emma Langley Oct 2012
Today I am uninspired
Nothing to write about
Nothing to say

Today I am uninspired
No opinions about the world
No thoughts worth writing down

Nothing to write about
Should I write about unicorns?
No to cheesey

Nothing to say
I am tired
And have no thoughts
M Oct 2016
When I look at you, I feel like I am dying. Not the bad kind of dying, but the kind of dying where my lungs forget how to function and the oxygen can't seem to find its' way in.
The kind of dying where every hair on my body stands straight up, the muscles contracting like an icy wind just crept up my spine- frigid and tempting.
My eyes can't seem to break their gaze from you, like one of those cheesey scenes from a romance movie where they zoom in slowly on the person's face- locked on fixation.
My heart-rate slows, making it feel like there's no blood left in my body to pump, movements as slow as an IV drip full of Morphine.
Like my veins closed up and are rejecting circulation- just as i am rejecting focus on anything but you.
I can feel a warmth creep through me, like venom seeping into my blood after a deadly bite from a pit viper- just the perfect temperature to hatch the thousands of cocoons resting in my stomach lining.
I go to open my mouth, to speak to you, to converse about silly things like why the moon and sun never seem to meet, or why human toes are so odd- but all that seems to break its' way out of my body are butterflies of the most potent vibrancy, colors that don't even have names.
Colors so vivid and enchanting that only fairytales and daydreams could house them, conjure them up with spells of the highest power.
Your eyes catch me staring and I go weak in the knees- my body unable to decide whether it'd rather collapse to the ground in a motionless pile, sinking into the soil to become the undergrowth that feeds fungi and small flowers, or to kick itself into hyper-drive, frolicking about like a newborn fawn feeling sun on its back during its' first Spring.
Yet all it seems my mind can really fathom is the craving for you, like an intense sense of fiending for nicotine crawling through my flesh.
An addiction I couldn't stop, even if I wanted to. Since I will never stop wanting you.
Carolyne McNabb Oct 2016
This screenshot of you, I always see:
waving over your shoulder,
smiling at me.
I've got this fear in my mind like,
what will you do when I
run out of things to say?
Will you stay?

Will you stay when I have nothing to say or do,
will you stay awhile,
just until I think of a cheesey joke
to make you smile?

When nights get longer
will holding me asleep get older?
When I forget another happy birthday,
will you stay?

Just tell me what you need and
God, I pray I can
give you everything.
Anything your heart desires.
Just tell me why you look so tired.

This screenshot of you, I always see:
waving over your shoulder,
smiling at...

There's a fear in my mind that
one day you'll wake up and find
what you're looking for in somebody else.

But you're smiling at me...

No matter the tears or
swearing or fears, I know
at the end of the day,
you're walking in through that door
and I know what you'll say,

.......And I love you too.
I would love to hear Kings of Leon sing this. Just saying
Emma Mar 2013
I want to tell you how I feel but don't know what to say
The cheesey lines that come to me say "colours fade to grey"
A gentle blandness hangs around but I can't work out why
I carry out the same routines that now seem dull and dry
For some reason  excitement's gone and I'm just feeling down
For a little while I'll fake a smile, paint it like a clown
I know that it will lift in time, but here the hope seems thin
Melancholy dreariness, no passion in the hymn
I trust that you will lift the fog as you have done before
Break into my apathy, and rock me to the core
For now I'll plod along the road, make sense of what is mine
And as I go, I'll sing along - A "Perfect Day For Sunshine"
betterdays Jun 2017
his love of mac n' cheese
often outweighs the capacity
of his seven year old stomach
but valiantly he labours
so his love  is not lost
his belly becomes drumlike
and his visage narcoleptic
as he falls into slumber
one hand clutching the fork
the other curled protectively
around the bowl, with still
at least a third of his *****
gleaming in a viscous mountain
of golden sunshine goodness...
cooling rapidly to a solid mass
but still when we try to remove
his now completely sombulant body
he clutches his golden *****
to his chest. like a pirate
in  the story's he has been told
unfotunately the result of
this myclonic clutch
is a gluggy macaroni mess
down his front and in his crutch

so now, we have no mac'n cheese
a grumpy pirate too sleepy/ cranky to please,
a running bath and washer too
and the devon rex cat,  no longer the blue
but the tuxedo black scoffing down cheesey glue,
from the floor ...
whilst the irritable pirate is crying (read bellowing)
for more

god give me strentgh.... to  just endure
Friday night after a big, big day...
Grassblade Jun 2017
she says i'm sweet
but that i'm too cheesey.

I tell her - sweet cheese is ice cream
and i'm glad you're so cold

else I'd be a puddle
Keyana Brown Aug 2020
The world looks harsh
I know it seems
nothing's going to
stop us for chasing
our dreams

We maybe distant
you know I see
that doesn't mean
we can still
be a team

~All we gotta do is believe

Because we are like a
cheesey romance movie
on the big flat TV screen
where we ignore the world
as hard as it may seem
but our love is rich
and sweeter like

~pineapple rings

so don't let
society interfere
with things
love is the
cure for
everything.
Don't you agree?
mothwasher Mar 2021
hidden in the hatchback of goatbreath is the smell of accepted failure. it hums in nostrils. netsick nostrum, holes are burning in my chakra. i seal the deal with seven cigarettes. my stomach bleats at the wealth of judgement, chaotic topology, four hundred calories under four dollars and the ghost that steals it. we metabolize knowing-better until achy. it cinches under my vice reel. vent ounces off the odd keel. cheesey sequence of solitude. sepulcher of the scape goat. wiles of worry, dancing off the coast, calibrated. we carved a mouth on the grave to kissit. some lives. we stained the hull with ****** caramel. sub lies. pick up my sanity from the pharmacy. the world fell short of your specialty.
Jasmin Jackson Aug 2019
Tupac Shakur
Cheesey smile, all allure
Your revolution started years ago
But I still want more
I want more of your music
I want it deep in my core
But that obviously can't happen
Because we live in a cruel world
You spoke truth and tragedy
Didn't care if it was appealing
We could use you right now
Because now rappers are screaming and mumbling
They aren't teaching the youth anything relevant
I want to be a poet like you
Teach the world unfairness
But your shoes, I can't fill those
Tupac Shakur, you shook the world
But I'm only 16
I don't think I can ever be
As life changing as you
I’m now awake
For breakfast I had Christmas cake
For tea
It will be
Stew with Turkey for you and me!

The Christmas log is still in the cupboard
The seasonal cheesecake in the freezer
The cheesey biscuits not opened yet
we’ll save them for New year !
And once again we’ll have good cheer.
Jimmy silker Aug 20
Tilly licks her lips,when the vinegar hits the chips.
Don't you know? Now,
she does back flips.
She'll walk by your side
If you have some scampi fries
or perchance , a Cheesey moment,
when it comes to food
She'll brook no opponent,
Were I to die
She'd eat my components.

It's all on her terms,
She don't need you or no one else,
She has herself,
But what's that in your hand?
Could it be something she might understand
To be human food?
Always in that mood,
She will not be misconstrued.

— The End —