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King Panda Aug 2016
the tiles that encompass me
are falling like dominos
this is blackness at its zenith and
I have a coneful
lucky me
it’s like the summer of ‘96
all over again
and my friend’s dad jumped
in front of a coal train
we ate ice cream that day
in the dank Minnesotan heat
everyone was dripping
the mosquitoes were flocking in
green cloud
ignite
flame
ignite

and the crunch of bones
like this water falling on my shoulders
wash
wash
again

the sticky syrup from my chin and
poor Dane’s pants smell and there is
**** pooling at his ankles
enjoy this chocolate-dipped cone
or possibly this one with
patriotic sprinkles
no
I think I’ll pass
I’m watching my ten-year-old figure
you see this paunch?
it is my heart
it is so fat and ****
take it from me, god
enjoy it on top of your
sundae
I always looked better red-chested
anyway
The Cone


19 July 2019
A freckled child cries,
As ice cream drips to the road.
Tomorrow is lost.
Today is the taste of strawberry.
She lives in an en-tropic world. Just like the resst of us.
CK Baker Feb 13
Dry veins branch the dead gulch
cinder cone set on a marbled tan scape
fanning sands sketch, ephemeral
fossil plates fold under columns of gray

Mountain back steep at the crevasse
sinkhole spots form on parallel nine
sulfur pipe stems from molten ash
aching shrubs and crumbling spines

silt fields cover the foothills
swayback shed at the whipple tree barn
tumbledown shacks form the patchwork
from goat canyon ranch to big bison farm

Salt lake fractured with amber
sickle-bush cut at the bowline knot
half-moon traced by the viper
oxbow streams, and valley grot
CK Baker Jan 2017
they stained the back deck today (with a hard to match 7 periwinkle)
400 square feet of knotted pine (in a striking rivet sequence)
red ant drivers (who can forget those little ******)
caked fir needles & feather cone
bug hologram & cedar moss
graffiti crack & cut joist
wheel rut & pick
pike stain (s)
sow bugs
electric
blower
purple
fueled
washer
missing
foul bits
and two of
its former pins
somewhere near
the erratic 9th stroke the
side kick (and his sloppy dullard)
fell sadly in a cacophony of sick laughter
anxious peckers, poinsettias, grub box, rail stems
lacewings (womanlike in their task), third door down windows
old ergonomic chairs (so highly touted in the checkout isle at Lowes)
all for not, I guess ~ seems they never reviewed the Homestead Manual on Fine
Deck Painting
I wasn't expecting
your B or your C game,
certainly not your J or K

or any other letters
in the alphabet, really,

except that one at the beginning:
looks like a pyramid with a perch,
isosceles triangle with bottom arisen,
traffic cone alerting to awesome ahead,
space shuttle tip to aerospace action,
an upside down V with a chin rest,
upward-pointing pencil tip,
2D teepee with a loft...

or your best
approximation.
zumee Jun 24
matter-
flavored un-
consciousness
licking on a
dream-
cone;
time
m
e
l

t


i
n


g
grey and black
and powerful

its pointed cone
***** in
all shapes and colors

we do not know
how
where
if

they come back
Inspired by graphics of Moje Menhardt on password.or.at/.php?pid=545
Johnnie Woods Aug 2018
There are five widely known senses.
Sight, hearing, touch, smell and taste.
We've got some minor ones as well, such as balance, temperature and many more.
However, people fail to realise that there's also the sixth major sense. Thoughts themselves.

   If we look closely, all these five senses have the same base. Specified cells in eye react to energy of light, cells of ear recieve energy in form of air's vibrations, skin cells pick up energy of mechanical changes, and so tasting and hearing depend on translation of certain substances' chemical energy.
   These cells in different organs differ in their structure and the way they appear, however, if we stop looking at them in such small scale, we can see that ALL of the cells or organs responsible for any sense translate the energy.
   So, a light enters the eye, certain wavelenght of certain energy stimulates the eye's rod or cone cells with a certain intensity. Then the energy of light is translated to energy of electrical impulse, which goes straight to the brain, creating the sensation of sight.
   If it comes to smell, a certain particle enters the nose, binds to a smell receptor cell, and the chemical energy of this particle is, again, translated to energy of electrical impulse, which goes straight to the brain, creating the sensation of smell.

   Now, let's move to the crucial part. The sense of thoughts.
   During the creation of thought, pathways in our brain that collect memories(and many more known or unknown pathways) connect. First, there's this spark of electricity, that moves all along the neuron and releases a dose of neurotransmitters(amount of different NTs is equiavlent to strength of this spark, basically resulting in "creating" various thoughts).
Then, chemical energy of NEUROTRANSMITTER is translated to energy of electrical impulse, which happens in the brain, creating the sensation of thought.
   Therefore the 'sense of thoughts' reacts to and is stimulated by neurotransmitters themselves, with receptors on neurons' membrane being receptors of the stimulus. So, kind of like smell, the stimulus is chemical, compared to sight, where it's electromagnetic wave; anyways the result in all of these is electric impulse in neurons (hence the idea of "thoughts" as a sense, due to the same basic layout; transfer of energy).
   The 'smell particle' connects to receptor and is translated to a certain amount of neurotransmitters/certain strenght of neuronal impulse. SO, again, we can see that when the first outer layer of this communication is cut off, we're left only with the neurotransmitters and impulses themselves. Anyway, the transduction of energy remains.

   If it comes to "sense of thoughts" the receptor lies within us, whereas in sight or smell or touch it's external. However, does it matter if it's on the surface of skin or under it if it all comes down to neurons of our brain?
   When you lie in a dark, silent room, without any external stimuli, you still retain your thoughts, colorful, vivid or complex. All the magic of the brain - still happens. So, how isn't it a separate, full-fledged sense?
lori parr Sep 19
swell up heart
swell your fleshy marbled cone
burst inwardly
beating lily of the dark
wrapped in veins of pyrite dust
ignited by the body’s brain
spread your secret moonlight
unconfined  
as milky
just in pale rivulets
of gushed love
past every flapping
trunk and scapula
past sepulchers of ears
pool in larger pearls
than fondled
in a muscles reflex
Mark Sisk Mar 5
Maybe if I'll rest my head
Maybe I'll drink too much
Maybe I'll lie in my bed
Feeling no touch

Writing a suite to cinde
Keeping ones thoughts to own
Why is the end so trendy
With an ominous tone

Surrounded by everyone
But feeling so lonely
Trapped in a lone cone
Does anyone listen
B D Caissie Sep 10
Lying
colours fading
Dying
needles fraying
Rotten
times decaying
Forgotten
Cone of silence...


©
Madeline Kennell Jul 2016
think of ice cream melting so you have to lick it off the sides of the cone

think of holding hands with a boy for the first time

think of being *****- not a gross ***** but ***** like you worked so hard today that you deserve this 800 calorie meal

think of the sounds of summer when you close your eyes, of a slight wind and the chimes that they blow about on your grandmother's porch

and speaking of grandmothers, and their porches, think of how you discovered watercolours in that very place

and think of coming home from a long day at the pool and watching the rain on your porch while you feel your skin cool down and you drink that amazing caramel tea

think of climbing the tree to get to the wall to climb on the garage roof and watch the clouds roll in over the mountains

think of the feel of the first time you got to hold a baby bunny and how in a way this made you see God

think of that feeling when you hiked the mountain even though your hip was broken and you got to the top and said 'i did it'

think of when you swam in the ocean and all your troubles ran off into the water and left you forever because the water was the pacific

think of putting on all that makeup and your prom dress just because you felt like it

think of dancing in the rain with your sister when the grass smelled sweet and the dirt was soft like a carpet and you felt at one with the world

think of cooking when billie holiday belts it from a record player and you sip red wine and pop the tomatoes in your mouth and your curls dangle in your vision

think of running off stage and getting high fived and glowing because you just successfully became someone else for a scene

think of that wonderful little secret joy you get from seeing that look he gives you when you're not looking... he just doesn't know you're staring at a glass reflection

think of how you have no money and the waitress is at one time annoyed with you because you can't afford a milkshake but grins as she walks away because she was that crazy kid too

think of the love you feel on your birthday when so many people made a special time to buy you something they think you'll like. even if you don't

think of falling asleep in the arms of someone you love and feeling like everything is in the perfect place and you are safe

think of the way cathedrals go up and up in the gothic style and how you understand the phrase heavenly light and feel yourself become weightless as you lean your head back

think of being cuddled in a soft blanket with hot chocolate while it snows, how you know your cheeks are pink and nose is rosy but it's all due to the world baring winter with you

think of thanksgiving and family and eating so much but being together because you are from the same people and you share blood and you are bound

think of swinging around your new haircut because you have nothing touching your shoulders and it ends so quickly and is new

think of drinking wine with your girlfriends in your pajamas and being classy together

think of backpacking through europe and how the locals know you are there to experience the real stuff and not some tour bus nonsense that never lets you stop at this little cafe you want to love

think of finishing a long book that shows wear on the covers that lets everyone know you smelled it paid so much attention to it for so long

think of falling asleep after a long day and knowing you deserve it and you are happy and all the bad is gone from your life. You've coughed out the demons and cried out the poison and you're now a week sober of sadness and everything is getting better and it's not even uphill from here, it's a sleigh ride now
Annelise Camille Jul 2017
I feel as if my head is sliding off my neck like ice cream melting down the cone. I am a witch melting, shrinking smaller as my spine stacks horizontally like shiplap. My body has been refurbished into a pinball machine. Something so tiny as a silver ball destroys so much. It bullets through my body, shooting off like Cuban missiles. I feel the turmoil and chaos seeping through the gutters of this old home of bones. It's like spilled oil sludging through my blood vessels or rats scattering through a sewer, nibbling and feasting away on these muscles of mine until they are frayed like gnawed-on cable wires. At odd hours of the night when time is propelled by the safe travels of breath (that weave in and out like Victorians at a ball) from sleepy children who have yet been touched by monsters or nymphs, whereas each of my breaths steer Odysseus's weather-beaten boat through ten years of treachery. My heavy, melting head slowly sloping like clay off a bust makes its home on my dingy pillow as I lay on a prison bed with cold shackles around my ankles that make my bones shatter into a mosaic as if that could shrink my ankles so I can slip out. I feel like a chained hawk at these hours of the night when I just want to fly until I screech to a halt and flail over the cliff that waterfalls into the ends of the universe. I'd be reluctant at first, perhaps, but what other escape does one have other than to make an autopsist's Y-incision on one's body, then slip out like a hermit crab freeing himself from his heavy shell? Embarking onto a new dimension where there's hope for a radical swap of atoms that don't shape a crippled, deteriorating human is the only choice when you want to live a life other than what you were cursed with. May we then find peace and live as naked souls bearing no heavy shells.
Marigolds Fever Sep 2018
Snow cone twists
Far ivory countryside
Season’s change exists
A stern mother nature’s pride
Foothills that resemble cream pies
Coating pointy flakes a mile high
Birds take cover
To find a feathery mother
Try to resist nature’s feverish fight
And hide from the silvery night  
Moon beams its pearly opals
Thru rainbow colored window chapels
In the nest
Little birds try their best
Huddled up
Till daybreak
They might delight
In the white sparkle sunlight
Snowy course
A bitter adventure for the strong farmhorse
Powder puff
It kicks it up like dust
Spring a strong sense
With snow that is no longer dense
Temperatures waver
An ice storm disfavor
Crystal drops
From frozen tree tops
The chirps begin
With a little more earthly spin
Melting snow
Begins to flow
Moving water a strong force
Becomes quite the
Snowy watercourse
Her shell's not so gorgeous
But she is beautiful, that's obvious.
She's such smiler
Who revives the freshness to a miler
And her cyan attire ...
Oh ! that just takes the breath away !!

Let's see her life from his* view
He might be wrong as he is new
New in describing her in few
Few words won't be perfect as morning dew.

She was a girl like anyone of you
She too had a dream changing the world to anew
She could have done this forsaking a few
A few whom she called her Pearl and her dew

She had to be an ice for her dew
She had to shell and protect her pearl
She cares for the rest, who have done their part and made her a girl whom she knows as her.

But her start was such she had to move,
To be a dew and be a shell
To make **** sure that no-one fell,
Heart swollen, teary eyes she bid them all melancholous good-bye.

During her flight she might would've thought, if somehow this **** plane could've stopped
She'd hug her love so **** tight
Be pampered as kid who'd fight
Fight to see his care again.
Coz fight does show that you care like rain.

Three years since that flight, her love is gone.
She scoops out popcorn out of a cone
Besides probably a person with whom she seeks
That love, care and respect which she needs.

Now she knows when the sun sets in
And shows her path the reality lies within
That path is sure for all, it's hard
But she travels this path with a smiling facade.

Still lies inside her a childish girl
Who wants to play and rock the world
But this world is not an easy place
She knows it now to her every breath.
*his - refers to the friend of the girl
Mary Mar 7
You
You

keep

me safe

and help me

brave the darkness;

my beacon  in a storm.

Guiding  me  in  times  of

turbulent disruption, reminding

me to take things slow.  You accept

me filled with fear and uncertainty and

send me forth feeling confident and capable.

Always in the  right place at the right time; keeping my compass

true.   I would be  a wreck without you.   Orange  caution  cone.
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
We are heating up
A-glow--- A-star--- A-blaze
Many other well-lit planets
She's luminous like no other
Simply crazed__Fairytales

*She's Peach-Fruitti-Tutti
Godiva loves nuts
All the melt in's
*
Mr. Bacio-Hazelnut*
Mr. Pistacchio he got his nose______

Inside their sweets____Pinnochio
She's the Light-up Icecream Cone  

Moods are like ice cubes
hot and cold websites
I prefer cold zone
Feeling like
Eskimo in Alaska


Miss Prima Donna
Oh! Donna is her name
Gelatos are not all the same
We are not here to have
special privileges

Robin lost some ruffles
Polar bears ice Igloo
College boys with their sports mug
Polo shirts Santa hoo duffle bags
We don't know what she knows
or what he likes the stars
of the Cosmo we are not
here to win someone's love
OH! Yes Lotto

We are not professors or wizards
Harry Potters, they have some
Pots not a fan of pans got
some ****
**** so cool menthol smoke indeed
Around the Gelato in eighty days
The Race of a drive

computer clicks one-day creation flag
Hens and chicks laid the golden egg

Mr. Egghead meeting Conehead

His tasters choice  
 She loves Mr. Maxwell Mansion
This is Italy the Art sculptures
Sweet Gelato lips say a
thousand words of pleasure
We travel with Exotic lovebirds
Saving the Ice blue diamond
Icecream wreck what a she
gains more than a pound
Mama Mia,
not the Chia job plant
 Over the rainbow
chill out pants
Having Gelato clean
as mint float

To the waffle cone top
of the mountain sugar coat
Niagara Falls here
"Gelato calls"

What spaghetti my name is
Carretti

Mr. Alfredo his physique and
passion for food
Feeling like the comics
Having fun marveling
Carvel walking through
the love tunnel
  
Hot ladies how do they ever
Decide iced up inside

Hothead Alfredo throws
the dough
She coughs he laughs
The pizza everyone's
the head is turning beet red
Something is burning exorcist,
Lady in red pizza list

Back in Brooklyn best
Pizza and Italy (Rome) Venice (Florence)
But Bensonhurst Saturday night fever
With Nightingale Mr. Chippendale
He's chatting away on his cell phone

With her Gelato looking at the
stars of the men spiritual experience
The Cosmos feeling meltdown presence
St Thomas sunny like yellow
gelato melting

Being a saint please don't faint
A food critic dessert
*** a hex playful flirt
T Rex mighty green lime
The love fallout of coconut
He's the hottest man
on earth Pluto
Being whole flavor or 1/2 pint
of Vanilla Sky scholar or
Intermission Icecream internship
The Canadian cup another trip

  Nike air what an ice cream pair
Going back to New York City
Rockettes icecream kick
He's on his time feeling the royalty
Lets bow to the dogs best friend
French barrette in her ice blue
Corvette, she is 'Ice Queen"
Super Ice me, Hero

Do what the Romans do
Lend me your warm soul of hands
Getting married Italian medieval rings
For my next Gelato adventure
escape be polite on Google
Mr. Alfredo loves all kinds of noodle
The shape of Cone's to come in her head

Not an Antman, please or fly by night
Icecream Cone Head Batman
*But I am a woman named Robin
Christopher Robin, Robin Hood
Why are boys and girls name alike
**** good humor lady
Good humor truck
Where is her order head chef
shrimp scampi
In the islands of Sorrento

What a time for ironing
What a waffle shirt eating
his waffle
Icecream with ladybugs and dirt
So many varieties mental thing
Everything icecream you scream
What a college Varsity every year  
"Hot lady Gelato's" head of the dean
list oh! No
[Mr. Alfredo} ice cream chair with
another Gelato pair
Chiao for now
Gelato went a little too far I love Gelato lets travel with Robin and get some unbelievable Gelato but we need to go to Italy I was there it's amazing
Fear hurts.
No matter how happy I am, there is always fear.

When it’s dark at night, there is fear.
Fear crawls underneath the blanket with your beating heart.

When you eat an ice cream cone, there is fear.
Fear slides onto your tongue, along with the sweet, frozen cream, and makes its way down your throat.

When you squeeze a pillow, fear will be there,
refusing to exit your mind.

Fear, why won’t you exit my mind?
It never leaves me..

But fear is what keeps you going everyday.

When you climb a great pine tree,
you feel glad, happy, strong, though never fearless
for fear’s there lurking in the needles right there with you.

When the sweetest pitbull licks your face with it’s oh so soft tongue,
you fear that it will leave you.
When your phone rings,
you fear of who it is.

Fear makes me fearless

When you play, you still fear.
You don’t even know what you fear but
fear is everywhere.
It doesn’t make sense.
Fear doesn’t make sense.

Fear is fear.

When fear comes along
Fear is your best friend
Fear makes me dance.

When you love something,
you fear that it will go away.

You fear of yourself.
You fear of the world.

Fear comes to make life harder,
to make you sad,
to make you scared,
but your heart is full of joy so you just sit at the kitchen table,
eating donuts with a side of fear.

You may love fear, you drink it like it’s coffee,
but you hate fear even more.
I wrote this in a poetry class in 6th grade (hence why its so bad) before I realized I had loads of anxiety
neko Sep 2018
No one's perfect, a truth that's always told
But goal and motivation is his stepping stone
Short term and lifelong sets made him so mold
Now he's infront of the crowd, sharing his story alone

Giving inspiration to maidens and lad
Showing the angle of sociology that life is fair
Life is unfair to him, life is unfair to her so don't be too sad
You're not the only one who has a problem to bare

He also pointed out inequality and discrimination
How it blocks the bridge for other races
How it removes peace and harmony to His creation
And gives them lesson on how to live with other faces

Demonstrating how to nurture the plants
Striking to everyone the beauty of every tree
Realizing that nature is best and independent
It could survive without us humans who's killing it continuously

Encouraging them to go out of the world
Stepping out of the front door of their comfort zone
Letting them know the lenses and view of words
Giving them the experiences that the society can provide like what's in Dale's cone
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