"chocolatey" poems
Love tastes like beauty, devotion and affection, rolled into a wafer together.
Love is the beauty of the vain, lone rose of the wild,
fading on the skin of your arms like a lotion.
Love is the devotion of watery jasmine and apples,
running smoothly down the back of your throat.
Love is the affection of thick, chocolatey hazelnuts,
dying so they can remain for everafter on the tip of your tongue.
the sweet, smoky taste of Love rubs in your limbs and your veins
until it is one with your blood and is the only thing you feel.
You devour Love, but it consumes you.
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 1:18 PM UTC
Chocolate milk how can you be
So creamy, sweet, and chocolatey
I see you in my dinner glass
The perfect way to make time pass
Oh man I love you chocolate milk
You're finer than... the finest silk?
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 5:54 PM UTC
Dark chocolatey skin bears the flag of red
Coloured, a sin; these feelings are cultivated and bred
So they're brought to toil on white soil
Reminiscing the scent of their native land, the sweet patchouli oil.
As they trudge through barren land, lost hope and ****** soles mark their path
This coloured discrimination instigates fair feelings of wrath
A helplessly agitated mind and yet they stand still
With wistful eyes, devoid of their free will.
At night, they sing to themselves songs of a land far away
As they drift off to a restless sleep, dreaming of being back there someday
Scalding feelings of entitlement and vengeance have taken birth and clouded minds
Working on indigo and cotton fields, on merriment and mirth have been drawn white blinds.
No matter how clean the records, the message is loudly heard
"When looked upon as a blue jay, you can never be a mockingbird"
These words passed down through generations deny them their say
Day to night and night to day but time couldn't change the black man's dismay.
Wanted is colour in life but shunned is coloured life
This clash of colours holds no value, only adding on to people's strife
So while i stand here trying to fathom out the meaning of it all
I hope, someday, realisation will take down this coloured wall.
May 9, 2021
May 9, 2021 at 2:31 AM UTC
Various flavours all so sweet,
They indicate only one thing,
Definition of sweetness & joy.
Enjoy it with friends or family,
Or the most beautiful memory,
I enjoy it with her on my mind.
It is just so sweet & chocolatey,
Just as her strong & soft nature,
I love them both, but I eat Oreo!
Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 8:17 AM UTC
Her sweet scent sticks in my nostrils
from when we were last met,
remembrance of her lips on mine
inspire song divine.
Though I gaze upon her face in photographs,
angelic beauty replicates not.
Shivers she sends me
over the phone.
Oh, I marvel that we
may speak from such distance,
yet I crave her warm embrace,
her breath in my ear,
whispering gently, it’s ok,
and forever will be.
I long to run my fingers
through her silky black hair,
caressingly **********
her mind and its motives,
the clockwork behind
those deep brown eyes,
two chocolatey oceans of no return.
To feel her lie against me
brings a state: pure ecstasy,
no chemical exists
that can make one feel
as they do when abreast
with a lover. Desire
fills me to be with her
but for now I must settle
to view my tulip
from afar.
Dec 25, 2009
Dec 25, 2009 at 9:30 PM UTC
What happens
____ to space______
between us
This is the
human race
Ah, Vey?
Just pray
Overly smitten
But not seeing
clearly picture-prey
He or she runs!!
Little darlings
here comes the sun*
The lime doing the time
Falling trees of coconut
Feeling- overloved
Deviant artist
splat coconut milk
No Security Cat
comfort box
So out of recession
Killer fox______
Chocolatey coconut
Cleanse my mind detox
Almond Joy concession
Rise up Face Botox
He cannot
read you
Haywire always
wired up his words
Hurried Hazelnut
coffee if you mind
Over-sugared
Increased brain
functions bitter rinds
So commercialized
The Cocoa Puffs
Going bananas
monkey ***
Lexie Vamp Vex
Mr. Ed overload
of Oz colors baboon
Going up Air Balloon
So many airheads
The Rainforest
GQ he's gone IQ
((Quarterly Neck of the woods))
Not orderly Outback
Steakhouse
Dinosaurs
******
Vicarious
No shortcut
The nervous system
The fast have a drink
furious
Cracking a coconut
Her Safe______**
6-6-6 combinations
Could crack her
Coconut oil neck her
City Girl call her
Intellectual brain
Singing
Gene Kelly
umbrella
Raining coconuts
(On Overload)
Strawberry Fields
This will be short
Yeah right forever
shortcake, not any sort
The trend of
coconut
Nearer because
of you I am
further
She was the
Brazilian Nut
With her
blind gut
((Coconut Houdini))
Island of Bali
Beauty of Judy
Somewhere so over it
rainbow
King Kong
Hairy chest banging
coconut drink slurping
Of girl talk
Strong New Jersey
Stamina
***** of Venezuela
Overload of
Prima, Donna's
Instant Karma
going to get them
Knocked them off
there feet
Where is my
John Lennon
He has the best beat
May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 6:58 AM UTC
*To Nick, Love *****
Don’t grow old.
Don’t leave behind your
skinned knees,
chubby cheeks,
and toothless
chocolatey grin.
Don’t grow old.
Don’t forget that nothing is too big
to fit inside your pocket
and to forget about for awhile
(like your crayons.)
Don’t grow old.
Make time to pretend
the floor is covered in lava
and the only way to be saved
are the throw pillows from your couch.
Don’t grow old.
Remember playtime,
and naptime,
and snack time.
Retain your sense of wonder,
feel free to proudly display blankie,
and keep that childlike beauty you wear so well.
At least on the inside,
don’t grow old.
May 9, 2012
May 9, 2012 at 10:50 PM UTC
soft words and their way of making people sing
lull me like a sweet tune in this chimney, in this place
in my head, slurring over and over until lines would draw up triangles of sleepy infant "jeux",
circles of faded fantasies would come to life and pray,
plus rectangles and cornucopias filled with fun and livelier days.
clouds of droopy golden light drip over our heads as we both lay
in soft blankets made out of my personal handmade Heaven's embrace
lush silk pillows under our overweight, over-bearing, strongly fastened necks
'cause they hold Atlas' weight and the answers for today.
the cycle ends for another shortened day...
the air seems rich with the smell of freshly-made pancakes.
little troll walking down the stairs with a new spring in her step.
lean into the chocolatey sweetness of a mother's oven-like haze,
close your eyes and wonder
if you'll ever feel the same.
Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 1:28 PM UTC
the heart is the most deceitful thing there is.
the brain knows that.
we just find it hard to understand.
what we generally perceive as love is nothing
but a mere illussion of what we're missing,
what we want.
the rush of emotions we suddenly experience
is so overwhelming that we can't grasp
its true intention.
we are building false hope in ourselves,
and we feed the thought
and excitement.
when we deeply think about it,
we are just inlove with the thought
of being in love.
it's more of a feel-good trigger
we unleash if we lost that
adrenaline.
it's that fairytale ending we have in our
imaginations that waters the seed
of romance in our hearts.
sad thing is we don't live in a fairytale.
i might insist pessism in your thought,
hey i don't write your love story.
blame it all in the confusion and lies
about love and your fairytale dreams,
your ever-after might not be within reach.
love is an illussion.
a trickery even rocket scientist can't explain.
mind boggling fantasies about prince and princesses.
but there is hope. ( an accomplice)
hope that even if you don't live in a castle nor rule a kingdom
believe that someone will treat you as the princess
far better you imagined yourself.
and when that day comes you might want not stay in neverneverland.
you don't grow old there.
what's the point of i-wanna-grow-old-with-you line?
love is a dangerous and a beautiful thing to enjoy.
its like sinking in a quicksand of bliss.
or swimming in a sea of chocolatey sea of tears.
but remember that in the midst
of everything you
beLIEve
in is a
LIE.
be careful.
Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 6:49 AM UTC
I run into a forest with fudge and green frosting trees.
In there I find squirrels made of cheesecake grey sesame.
The acorns are made of candy hard root beer.
Twigs made of cinnamon to my feet adhere.
The ground has bunches of lime gummy grass.
I saw a rabbit of white chocolate run past.
The foot prints were of cocoa divine.
This forest is filled with deserts that seem mighty fine.
I come to a river filled blue raspberry jelly.
That will surely adhere to my belly.
What am I to do with all these treats?
Is it time to run or do I have time to stop and eat?
I see birds made of cookies and cream.
Is this a terrifying nightmare or a beautiful dream?
The snow falls powdered sugar flutters.
Whoops, stepped in droppings made of peanut butter.
Maybe from a chocolatey brown bear.
Just as tame as that white chocolate hare.
I guess I am getting out of here.
All the sugary stuff that will adhere.
Hopefully I do not attract those.
They are red hot fire ants near a cream filled rose.
Though I finally leave.
What just happened I could not believe.
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 5:59 PM UTC
And I sit here drowning my sorrows
In this rectangular chocolatey delight
I think about all the tomorrows
That I'll have with less fright
Now save me, chocolate smoothness
You always help me just right,
My tongue needs your milky caress
To get through this reckless fight
Dear sugary flavor
Bring me a certain light,
And rid me of this melancholy savor
Because chocolate heals all wounds, right?
Nov 13, 2012
Nov 13, 2012 at 9:43 PM UTC
There came a rabbit
To inhabit
A space
In my Easter basket.
He wasn't Peter,
Or Velveteen,
But chocolate
And much sweeter.
He wasn't always
Chocolatey,
But furry,
Like the others.
But he was determined
In his drive,
To make my Easter
That much sweeter.
So he wished
Upon a star
To morph into
A rabbit bar
Of nugets,
Caramel and nuts;
And then for added
Greater taste;
He asked for drenching
In choc'late.
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 1:51 AM UTC
Kiss life into me,
I feel suffocated,
You're caramello,
Sweet midnight kiss.
Breathe your youth,
I'll inhale with you,
And feel as young.
Your chocolatey eyes,
They tell me a story,
Just relax in this love,
We share this warmth.
As I drink to your care,
You should drink to mine,
Don't be reluctant to love.
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 9:13 AM UTC
Brewing.
Steeping.
The leaves of the crunchy,
Dry,
Oolong tea.
He wanted the girl to love it.
As much as he did.
The chocolatey aroma.
Taste.
Smell.
All to be enjoyed by the girl.
He was excited for her to savor it.
Auburn orange.
Amber yellow.
How these colors swirl within the tea cup.
Dipping a spoon in to twirl it.
Left.
Right.
Counterclockwise.
At last, the tea was ready.
Cool.
Not too hot.
Not too cold.
Just right, like porridge.
Ready to be tasted by the girl.
He presented it to her.
She took the tea cup.
In her delicate hands.
Tipped it to her chapped lips.
The warm liquid
Glided.
Smoothly.
In her mouth.
Down her throat.
Her tongue, wanting more.
She smiled at the boy.
Before continuing to
Ravish her tea.
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 10:22 AM UTC
Being woken up by the sound of rustling, it's about 10:20 am. I poke my head out from underneath my blankets, "Ey... is it raining out?" The curtain is pulled back and there's a grumpy sigh, "Ugh, yes." I smile and pull the blanket over my shoulders again, "It's another rainy day, great start to the weekend!" She agrees sarcastically. I smile amusedly. I love this weather.
My lips chill from the rim of my traveller's mug that had been bathed in cold rain on my way to creative writing class. As I tip it back, my lips are steamed by the hot, chocolatey liquid contained inside. I fix the hood of my sweater and sit back into my seat. Rainy days, hot chocolate, and sweaters.
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 8:19 PM UTC
I thought I'd never stop missing you.
I thought the echo of your voice would never stop in my head
That the words I love you
And Angel
Would forever ring in my ears.
I thought I'd never get over the way your hands felt on me
the trailing of your fingers on my lips
their dance around my collarbone
and the way they dragged over my rib cage
leaving a trail every inch of the way.
I was sure that I'd never forget the constellation of freckles along your back
and the one behind your left ear
how beautiful they were
how they never bothered me
and how I loved them even though you didn't.
I knew I'd never forget the color of your eyes
so chocolatey brown
with a hint of green
and a splash of orange.
I thought I'd never stop missing you.
But the echo of your voice has since turned into a whisper
I've found myself unable remember what your laugh sounds like
and I find it annoying when I hear someone call their girl Angel.
I've slowly gotten over the way your hands felt on me
and I've come to realize
how rough the skin on your fingers was
and how the trails you've left are just scars I want to cover up.
I'm not sure where your freckles are
I think there is one behind your right ear
and on your stomach
and maybe a few on your shoulder
but I always found them messy and annoying.
I don't know what color your eyes are
you have blonde hair so I'm guessing blue?
I guess I've just stopped missing you.
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 8:00 AM UTC
Brewing.
Steeping.
The leaves of the crunchy,
Dry,
Oolong tea.
The chocolatey aroma…
So intoxicating
Like a psychedelic dream.
Auburn orange.
Amber yellow.
How these colors swirl within the tea cup.
Dipping a spoon in to twirl it.
Left.
Right.
Counterclockwise.
At last, the tea was ready.
Cool.
Not too hot.
Not too cold.
Just right, like porridge.
The girl was ready
To savor the
Lovely drink.
She took the tea cup.
In her delicate hands.
Tipped it to her chapped lips.
The warm liquid
Glided.
Smoothly.
In her mouth.
Down her throat.
Her tongue wanting more.
She smiled,
Before continuing to
Finish
Her ravishing tea.
Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 10:03 PM UTC
the truth is I don't find comfort in looking into your eyes and not feeling weak in the knees, it feels so good to finally feel something other than pain and regret. although my mind and my heart may be in a constant quarrel between " I can't love you" and "I can't not love you" i believe that loving you is inevitable. it can't possibly be my fault that your chocolatey eyes pierce my soul and there's no way I can help the fact that your happiness alone is enough to make my day. maybe this is just my role in society to play, maybe right now I just happen to be the girl who loved a little too much, and im not sure that I know exactly what that means for me or how it will devolve, but there's one thing I am sure of. I am sure that your ghost will live within the depths of my heart for a long time. maybe one day I will be more than just the girl who loves too much, maybe I'll be the girl who was loved just a little too much, by you.
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 10:59 PM UTC
Her eyes were brown,
Even black, sometimes
But she envied blue eyes the most
She imagined her face with eyes like the sky, eyes like shiny blue bowls
But the more she wished her brown eyes away,
The more she longed for her soul
For so long, she believed that no one could love the magic of her glassy, dark eyes
But as time went on, she began to sing her own brown-eye lullaby
Her eyes were warmer than the bluest summer sky,
They'd twinkle brighter than any star,
Melting you into a chocolatey fountain
And while her eyes would never share the color of the sea
Her eyes mirrored a thousand mountains
Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 5:22 PM UTC
“good morning” says no one as you smile your way out of sleep.
you’re the first to rise in your house.
you’ve always been the first to rise in any house.
with your routine glance outside you immediately resort to defeat.
the world has been primed in a hideous blend of grays and whites,
like the sun finally resolved to give up on revisiting new york for good.
you delicately trace the curvature of your neckline,
reminding yourself absently of ears and scalps
and how warm and strange you are to live.
you catch a glimpse of red cellophane on your floor.
but of course,
the drunken miracle purchase of the evening prior-
a cheap heart shaped box of chocolates.
it’s not february but you think you’re funny.
(somewhere in the back of your mind you relate nonchalant consumption
of russell stover chocolates to both a superiority of traditional love and
your general distaste for capitalist based holidays).
you eye all of the chocolates suspiciously as you lift the lid and pull the box onto your lap.
if only you could tell which one was caramel without having to eat all of the others.
you continually weigh your options until settling for a milk chocolatey looking one.
how much money did you spend last night?
rent’s in few days. you’re looking thin lately. you need to buy makeup remover.
what time is it?
you pull the wet half bitten chocolate from your mouth in disgust.
some strange pinkish orange cream is emerging from it,
which tastes like corn syrup and the inevitable death of our sugar freak youth.
god or the universe or some greater force suddenly tainted the grey clouds with a slight jaundiced haze.
yellow and gray.
it looked like someone rushed to finish a painting they already knew they hated.
Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 4:45 PM UTC
Resilience
Temptation
Resistance
More resistance!
Desire...
Powering,
Overpowering,
Unbearably overpowering,
Feeble opposition,
Finally, resignation,
And after this,
Sweet, chocolatey bliss.
*Impossible it is,
To watch your weight
Sitting at a table with
Friends who live to eat!*
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 12:07 PM UTC
Oh the joy, the seduction
The thrill of cocoa in my mind
It has to be the milky sort
I am not keen on the dark kind.
It is not velvety enough
does not quite melt in the mouth
not quite my cup of tea
although they both travel south.
But it is the taste of liquid Heaven
melting slowly on my tongue
Then a waterfall of delight
Is that so very wrong.
I love chocolate
always have and always will
If this cures all sorts of things
Marvellous - I will have it in a pill.
I think it does, it cures my thoughts
Comes complete with a big fat hug
and that is sometimes all we need
Zapping and taking care of any bug.
If you are depressed it will pick you up
wrap its chocolatey arms around you
tell you things are going to be okay
It will do whatever it needs to do.
I am in my special little place
nice and warm, my toes are curled
My little fingers opening a bar of treasure
and I am in my own little chocolate world.
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 1:24 AM UTC