"cheesier" poems
With pen and pad in hand,
I’m finally ready to take a stand.
This is how I get my words out best,
it’s kind of like a written test.
It seems to be the only thing that works
when it comes to you, I get flustered by that smirk.
But something about written words is easier,
I bet you’re starting to wonder if it could get cheesier.
Maybe it’s because of your eyes,
and how they reflect the night skies.
Or how every inch of my body reminds me of you,
it’s like to me, this body is brand new.
My hands, they are now meant to hold yours
or how you’re the one my heart adores.
See my body is no longer my own,
my ownership fell apart with every moan.
Thoughts like this, admissions like this,
seem to get lost amidst each kiss.
That’s why pen and paper are best,
for my admission here can attest.
I get a bit lost when you’re close to me,
our bodies intermixed means you’re all I see.
With a pen in hand, my thoughts aren’t all over,
I don’t feel like so much of a rover.
This is where it’s thoughtless,
where I’m anything but cautious.
So, this is so you know that I love you,
and with pen and pad in hand, it's easy to construe.
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 11:40 PM UTC
It was a smile
it was up-all-nights
It was inside jokes
It was pinky promises
It was never ending talks
About religion
About god
all that **** we're never allowed to give an opinion on
It was a three word sentence
It was hand holds in the cinema
It was kisses in the bathroom
Or any where with a lockable door
It was cheesy texts
And cheesier phone calls
Then it was goodbye
It was time difference
It was Skype
It was guyish needs
And girlish give-ins
It was more lust
less love
It was stupid arguments
It was picking fights
Just to feel something
Other than
numb
It was a hard decision
It was "for the best"?
It was unwanted mornings
It was sleepless nights
It was puffy eyes
It was no one will love me again
It was I still miss you
It was pain
Now it's fear
Of what was
All over again.
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 6:22 PM UTC
Come, Friend.
I'll show you around the house and tell you all the trivial things that remind me of her.
(Here in the hallway)
These stacked, empty shoeboxes,
That I now keep my poems in,
These bare walls that I suppose,
She could make a better use of,
(In the living room)
This monochrome vintage tv,
That she'd have thrown out,
My books lying haphazardly on the table,
That she'd have cleared up,
My guitar that hasn't been restrung for 7 months,
The pictures of Dutch tulip fields,
The multilingual posters on the wall behind the TV,
Like a pretentious polyglot,
(Now,the kitchen)
And this bitter fragrance of tea leaves,
This divine scent of cardamom,
Rising from a hot cup of tea,
The rattle of kettles,
These dying rose petals,
Parmesan and cheddar,
The cheesier the better,
All of that pickled food,
According to my mood,
The battle of spices,
Those gingerbread slices,
Everything-
Everything reminds me of her.
"She's but a figment of your imagination,friend."
She's but a figment of my imagination, friend?
Apr 5, 2019
Apr 5, 2019 at 6:32 AM UTC
The cheesiest thing... Is that when the parmesan and mozzarella melt, they become one.
Just like how he and I kissed at our wedding. We marry and become one soul.
We are like gruyere and onion soup... We soak ourselves in the broth of love...
When we think of each other, we are like bleu cheese and crackers, our soul complements each other.
The cheesier our love... The more our hearts melt when our eyes meet...
Our love is described by the nature of cheeses.
How some strong cheeses are complemented with the sweetest fruits, how some cheeses are worth melting for and how some cheeses are eaten just the way they are.
Just like how we fall in love when opposites attract, how someone is worth sacrificing for and how we fall in love with someone who’s just the way they are.
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 8:43 AM UTC