"deliciousness" poems
have you been to
the honey bunny buffet
its on ***** hot ***** street
and lick it up all day
you can start with a kiss
theres buttery *****
don't you dare miss
her fallopian tubes
she comes with a milk shake
and sweet ***** treat
her **** delicious
you'll love her feet
there are deserts
different flavors for sure
and pudding viscous
you'll *** for some more
if you like women
shes yummy yum yummy
be you boy or girl
shes feels great in your tummy
i love to go their
its all you can eat
stuff your self good
gawd shes so sweet
do you like ****
its pink and its red
its good with black bean sauce
you can have it in bed
or **** warm and gooey
with ******** lips
sopping wet deliciousness
its so hot when she strips
theres big bowls of *****
smothered in cream
if you like *****
your gona scream
i want to eat their
every **** day
but my wife wont let me
so home i must stay* :(
Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 3:22 PM UTC
I’ve written words since I found out that those graphite sticks
could form them and wrote my name
on the top of a kleenex box
when I was four.
I’ve written words since I learned that each one
held a meaning I could hear in my head.
I’ve written words since I realized that writing
releases them from my mind,
so that I can hear myself think.
I’ve written words because numbers run away from me,
just out of grasp, teasing me with
their teamwork and rigid cooperation
and parenthetical expressions.
I’ve written words never read by anyone,
words which embarrass with their frankness
words which I’ve burned thinking they would die.
I’ve written words which I longed to share
because they fit together better than numbers
and made my skin crawl with their
deliciousness.
Jul 3, 2012
Jul 3, 2012 at 3:07 PM UTC
This is not a metahpor,
oh no this is so so real,
this is the deliciousness,
oh for my meal,
to consist of the sweet delicacy
Oh I know you know it is true,
Let us fry a koala,
Not make it into stew.
It will be chewy and crunchy,
Oh leave the bones in,
They make the meat more tender,
And toothpicks more fun,
Let your girl make it for you,
And **** you clean while eating.
That is when you've reached heaven,
And the lust and gluttony therein.
If they try to stop you,
From stealing another koala,
Tell them it is your dinner,
And they are making you quite irate.
Beat them in the face,
And shoot their families down,
Nothing must stop you from eating,
Yet another fried koala,
One might even think its fate.
When you **** it out,
Don't fret or moan,
Take it like a man,
And bless the remains,
of the once fried koala,
As you flush it down down down.
Because another lies down under,
To quench your hunger,
Forever.
For Lexi.
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 11:32 AM UTC
Vanilla. Nation's favourite. In fact the world's favourite
flavour. So very versatile. From Mr. Whippy's with a
cheap chocolate flake, next to a warm apple
crumble, on a pancake or in a milkshake.
From hot days by the sea side to the
perfect ending of Sunday lunch
and every occasion in betwe-
en. The creamy, comfor-
ting deliciousness
I once fell
in love
with.
But now I prefer the
irresistible, amber, nutty explosion
of Butterscotch. My tongue [mind] craves it!
Sep 30, 2012
Sep 30, 2012 at 9:19 PM UTC
As late I rambled in the happy fields,
What time the skylark shakes the tremulous dew
From his lush clover covert;—when anew
Adventurous knights take up their dinted shields;
I saw the sweetest flower wild nature yields,
A fresh-blown musk-rose; 'twas the first that threw
Its sweets upon the summer: graceful it grew
As is the wand that Queen Titania wields.
And, as I feasted on its fragrancy,
I thought the garden-rose it far excelled;
But when, O Wells! thy roses came to me,
My sense with their deliciousness was spelled:
Soft voices had they, that with tender plea
Whispered of peace, and truth, and friendliness unquelled.
3.8k
sometimes
i really want a juicy ripe deliciously sweet pineapple on a hot summer day the way the juice drips down my chin as i devour the sweet succulent fruit
other times
i might want a healthy green fruit to snack on such as an avocado feeling the rough interior skin only to cut it open and find the soft green buttery deliciousness inside i love the way my lips feel as the smooth flesh hits my throat with flavor
you see
i like both of these fruits being bisexual is like
enjoying these fruits i will always like both but on some days i might want more of the other but no matter what i will always love both
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 12:35 PM UTC
Another copycat,don't do that it's all been done before and one more pretender shown the door,
swing out
swing in and another cat comes ring a ding, ding.
I need uniqueness
I want to feed on the sweetness of novelty,there seems to be less and less of that deliciousness and not much of that newness I can claim for my own,
I think I'm fading into the woodwork,full of knots and gnarlings and look at me darlings as I disappear.
No copycat here,
this is a first time,straight from the bread line into a basket case and how can I possibly face that which is new?
New is getting fewer and the few who do new don't know and never knew what few could be in this land of lots and plenty for me.
I was told that old is the new folding currency and that doesn't suit me,too many wrinkles,too many nooks and nannies with crooks,like little Bo-Peep,I wish they'd all sleep,
there is time for the sheep to try on for size,oh my dear Lion what gigantic eyes,
is that a bit new or just me cooking stew?
A copycat like folding currency folds flat and I'm having none of that,I like the chinking and clinking of real gold and that don't fold.
So beware if you share and don't credit the writer,who with meagreness in his pockets pulls his belt a bit tighter,one more notch he can't feel,,one more meal never felt in his gut,but
copycat see,copycat do,copycat never think anything new.
What are you?
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 5:13 AM UTC
Your perfectly shaved deliciousness dripped its juices,
I was pulsating with pleasure,
guiding your eager hips
gyrate back and forth,
twisting and turning
in sync with the force
of my thrusts.
slowed down,
opening your legs
talented fingers
spread your
warm folds
wide apart
for me to
enter
you
Jun 2, 2024
Jun 2, 2024 at 8:29 PM UTC
Beautiful blue berries
Blood red cherries…
Swirling in the night
Chocolate chip covered thief appearing with fright
The beat of the candy heart vibrates with weak deliciousness
While the frozen dessert screams its loyal wickedness
There was a flaw in the meal
For the law wasn’t happy and signed the seal
A perfect good journey turns into a nightmare
The monstrous ice cream still screaming its snare
And now the story rises
As the peanut butter footsteps arrives and surprises
A strawberry invitation is handed to the achiever
Icy tears hangs like icicles from the law breaker
The peanut butter melts away and now the story reaches its ******
The salty eyes are now side tracked
Beautiful blue berries
Blood red cherries…
They suddenly disappear
The candy heart beat slows and is replaced with cold fear
Ice cream drips into silence cutting off its screams
Chocolate chip covered thief fades, leaving a ghost of its beams
The flashing thief in the night
Is finally gone, but the emptiness leaves a fright
Yea I was hungry and extremely frightened
So when the police stopped me, my imagination became deliciously enlightened
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 11:40 PM UTC
The vague temptation of your deliciousness
Is hanging over my head
And the sweet taste of your salty skin
Still makes me feel like I'm dead,
Killed by your mouth laid on my neck
Chilled by your hands sliding on my body
Thrilled by your fingers intertwined with mine
Quilled by your eyes, bright in obscurity.
I remember your barely visible smile,
And your shivering lips
I remember the tip of your breast
Getting harder every time I touched it,
With the fresh carress of night falling down.
I want to hear you panting again,
Watch your chest go up and down
As you were breathing heavily
Getting ready for the final knockdown.
I remember the burning light in your eyes
And your teeth softly biting your lips
As your hands hovered my naked body
Getting to know me, bits after bits.
I rcan still see your head slightly tilted back
And your open mouth, looking for fresh air
To cool down your own temperature,
And my hands tearing off what you had left to wear.
I can still feel your tense fingers
Vainly clinging the sheets of my bed,
Your hot, heavy breathing sliding on my skin,
The voices screaming inside my head.
Finally I remember your tongue slow dancing with mine
And the three words you said when I never asked you to,
Sweet, soft, quiet, light and almost inaudible
The magical, crazy "Baby, I want you."
Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 4:13 PM UTC
lead me down the hall to dance in the secret of the dark
your blackened past and your hot hot hands
pressing my temples, turning my body into rumble
trembling for your delicate deliciousness
the world is morphing with my pipe dream visions
my face chisels, my heart whistles
my life is lived in intervals
between sunlight and dawn
between the long night walks
chasing the moon, interwoven in the oasis of your room
Jun 10, 2022
Jun 10, 2022 at 12:22 PM UTC
"unconditional love dinner-dance"
so names the advert for an evening of a
big shot, posh charitable event,
which the glossy Gatsby East Egg magazine implies,
if you fail to attend said soirée, you nobody, will have no way to claim truly understanding the composition of an
unconditional love dinner dance
laugh internally, swirling,
riffing on eat love pray,
this ditty is what I instantaneously say...
*what do these swells,
with their self-appointed importance,
know to probe/defame my claim,
to this poem's title?
these are the factors,
the stepping stones from
my minute to the minute next
love
am I not oathed, bound
unconditionally
by my very own name,
which life bestowed upon me at birth,
to compose of this love
in every etching lineage, signed verse kissed upon our faces,
then, as well, oh so well, so swell,
to kiss our babies
whose smooth skin has no familiarity with
time and all my love
all my love,
uncritically makes no distinction
dinner
she loves me through the silence
of my oohing and ahhing,
these sounds,
escaping willingly,
unconditionally,
as delight unconstrained at the delicate deliciousness her love
has implanted in the dishes she preps,
with which she
preserves us
dance
she love to dine upon
her laughter at
my akimbo'd imitation of
'so idiot, you think you can dance'
hip hop
begging me between crinkling boisterous hardy laughter,
please, not to hurt myself
she, a Martha Graham educated,
Argentine Tango ballet mistress,
a life long dancer whose genes forbid her
to pass by the sound of music
without breaking out, breaking into dance,
in perfect synchronicity
to whatever the composer calls upon her,
to present the music, to inform us,
in body graphic form,
unconditionally
what they intended us to
see within and between each note
I need no tuxedo,
no fancy dress,
no permissions to comprehend
the meaning, the actuality,
the unconditionally of
unconditional love dinner dance*
I dine and dance with love daily,
and yes, to be very sure,
unconditionally
for is there any other kind?
Jul 31, 2016
Jul 31, 2016 at 12:10 PM UTC
*WHEN I first discovered the *"BEND IN THE RIVER" * , , , I had No Idea what was in store for those who BELIEVE There's a LOT more to this Flesh and Blood Body than Meets the Eye!! IT'S a Brand New World, , , That I've been instructed to "SHARE" with those who also believe *That the SPIRIT given to us,,ALLOWS "ADVENTURES" beyond explanation. "For Example"; I uncovered a Mystery that has been kept from man for Centuries!! "Such As Follows". Am I a fool to fish with an Unbaited hook?? Even though I did Caste it out "Very Far". Will the FLASHING of it being Retrieved ever so FAST, be enough to Attract the Hungriest of Those Looking for a New treat? What,Oh What could be a "BETTER BAIT" than that which I reeled in at a "Break-Neck" speed?? Was there No Deliciousness coming Off that Rapid return? PERHAPS,,a Tasty Morsel, a Yummy TidBit be attached to the very Tip.. AND * YES Put below a Cork about 30"ABOVE!! YES,,Gently,, Persuasively,, Moving in the Smooth currents of "LIFE"!!! Is this "BETTER BAIT" always available? * I BETTER "RUSH" TO FIND OUT!! "Are YOU with me??"
Sep 14, 2010
Sep 14, 2010 at 3:38 AM UTC
Helen sends me scraps of poems for repair. "Shreds of lettuce," she calls them. I fool around with them in my role as Poetry Doctor (see my banner photo). In her extended absence, I will post our convolutions. While the final product is mine, the vision, the imagery, the notion of the poem is all hers and therein lies the true authorship.
From Helen, Dec 2
Here is the last of the salad,
dressing not required...
savoir-faire [?sævw???f??
Upon a plate
of deliciousness
the lettuce
is usually
pushed to the side
to wilt
and be scrapped
into an
Industrial bin
were we all begin
as fodder for worms
turning garbage
into words
Nourishing
nothing
but our own pride
bon appétit
Helen
---------------
The Human Word Salad
Now it is dressed....
all poems, no exception,
the bad, the exceptional,
all begin
in an
industrial bin.
wormwood,
wormword
the ancestors,
feast on the scraps,
garbage letters discarded,
the wilts of alpha lettuce,
the word waste of the
every day beta jabber,
plate pushed-aside decorations,
all but none, bystanders
and they
turn them into words,
though inedible, incapable,
of nourishing life individually,
yet their recycled deliciousness,
unquestioned.
when
each sole word,
re-birthed in the compost
of the delivery room of that bin,
meet in the maternity ward
of our minds
words wed,
poems form,
and all the true nourishment
the world needs
begins anew.
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 6:14 PM UTC
Bubble gum, bubble gum, in a dish
i
un-wrap
the tightly wrapped satiny
Paper Package
-- and savor
every sweet taste
Of juicy fruit- and bubbly deliciousness
Wetting my mouth and
AWakening my
wanting tastebuds.
Roll it on my tongue,
blow gently, and
pop, there's that bubbly bubble
gum on my face.
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 2:28 AM UTC
Your perfectly shaved deliciousness spread,
Juices dripping all over the bed.
Pulsating with pleasure, my heart raced,
Watching your hips gyrate with grace.
Twisting and turning in rhythmic delight,
In sync with each ****** a passionate night.
You slowed down, legs open wide,
Fingers parting folds, wet and warm inside.
Talented hands exploring with skill,
Every touch sent shivers, a lingering thrill.
Our bodies danced in a heated embrace,
Lost in the moment, heartbeats kept pace.
Jun 2, 2024
Jun 2, 2024 at 8:28 PM UTC
Something is out of place.
Something inherently
molecular within her
myogenic wilderness:
a modesty, an awareness,
the visible manifestation
of her shyness.
It contracts.
It tones.
It colors her
openly,
just as the sky.
Involuntary,
just as stimuli.
There's something new
about this face.
Something awakened.
Something lovestruck
and silly.
For what else
could exert such
a dilator mechanism,
in all its deliciousness?
Oct 1, 2020
Oct 1, 2020 at 10:51 AM UTC
We both lean in, both eager, and me hesitant;
not for what is to come but the thought that once it happens,
There is no more chance for the First.
Leaning in, I inhale sharply, breathing ragged breaths,
Eyelids half shut
Faces so close I can hear his steady breathing, even though this is The First for him as well,
Bodies so close I imagine I can feel his heartbeat, chest expanding with each breath
Whisper unintelligible sweetness into my ear, words tickling my skin,
And the smell of sweet boyish deliciousness.
His nose presses against my cheek
Soft lips touching mine
Pressing
Breathing
Never wanting this moment to end.
We kiss and it feels like time stops only for us and we are barely touching but it's more than enough
And then my little sister runs up, and I have to take her home.
We stand and shyly gaze at each other, your bike, my sister and a few feet of air between us as we say goodbye and you mention looking up something insignificant at home
I walk the seventy-five feet to my house and you race off on your bike, both bashful of what has passed between us and still thirsty for more of each other.
The next day at school we meet in the hallway and walk to first period together, murmuring shyly
about It, air between our arms electric, and I'm desperate.
Desperate to touch you,
To fall into your embrace
And touch my lips to your neck,
Face,
Lips,
And never leave you for an instant,
No need to say a single word
Just be with you and comb my fingers through your hair,
And breathe.
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 4:21 PM UTC
THROUGH VERY SHORT TIMES OF SPACE.
The red door of No.16
North Frederick Street
slams behind him as he
enters into this newly minted
morning
sunshine so thick
one feels like a fish
swimming through it.
Sunlight spangles
a tiny puddle
turning it into a jewel
that only the eye can cherish.
Ahhhh "...the ineluctable
modality of the visible."
He turns right into Upper
Dorset Street
pulling an "Ahhh...howya!"
out of the man who makes the false
teeth!
Then turning left into
Eccles Street
giving the nod to No. 7
Bloom's house in ULYSSES.
Here in its run down state
though still shining in his fictionality.
Soon they will knock it
down and what will the tourists
do then
poor things.
Sure some bright spark
will rescue it from its rubble
and the door will live again
some streets away again.
Ahhh...." the ineluctable
modality of the visible."
I go to Quinn's gym
to get my Molly
( Philomena her name is )
a cottage cheese with pineapple
on a Weetabix base.
It is a 16th of June
somewhere in the 80's
as I retrace my own earlier
Joycean footsteps.
Rat-a-tat-tat on Bloom's door.
"Are ya there Leopold?"
But the bold Leopold
doesn't answer.
The 16th of
forever I am
"...walking through it
howsomever."
The sun smirks
as such Joyceisms.
"I am, a stride of a time.
A very short space of time
through very short times of space."
A horse and cart as if
from the past
saunters by
timelessly.
Ah "...the ineluctable
modality of the audible."
My Molly who is really
a Philomena
spoons the deliciousness
of the creamy dessert
into her
and yes she says
mmmm...yes....mmmm
Yes.
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 3:05 PM UTC
Fumble in the dark,
Become a tangled, clumsy mess,
Then laugh at it all hysterically-
Oh how deeply I relish Awkwardness
Awkwardness in love,
In little things I do- in everything I do,
The 'neat and clean' ones won't get it,
But it's known to us blundering fools
That tidily cutting slices of cake
And eating them in plates with spoons
Comes nowhere close to devouring cream
In fistfuls and untamed scoops,
And licking the blueberry syrup
As it trickles down your hand,
And fighting over the part
With most icing,
Getting some on your cheeks in return.
Shyly wiping it away from your lover's face
With a tissue comes nowhere close
To kissing it off his skin,
Don't you think?
Awkwardness is real,
Proof that we are alive, not merely living,
So, taste the deliciousness of it,
Let go, and dig in!
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 3:19 PM UTC
My mouth drooling;
I am feigning for her deliciousness;
her fleshy fruit -- blooming in my mouth,
spewing her milky nectar -- all over my tongue.
I kneel before lapping at her hole;
thin pink lips
parted by my fingers,
praying on her weakness.
feeding my desire;
as her body quivers beneath me
her swells flooded with satisfaction
Sep 4, 2018
Sep 4, 2018 at 8:15 PM UTC
Come
wild new splendor
Come
volcanic wonder
Come
holy ignition
Come
heaving impetus
Come
ardent elastic dreams
Come
raging waters thrusting
Come
luscious droplets
Come
swift organic swells
Come
thrush of songbirds
Come
bellows of breaking ground
Come
auxiliary flowers breathing
Come
sweet sapling songs
Come
****** saturation
Come
divine allure
Come
teeming pollinators
Come
abounding overflow
Come
copious life
Come
brimming manifold
Come
sweet floral air
Come
bold blasts of bearing
Come
sun kissed beauties
Come
fervid spring
I Welcome
your enamouring rivulets
I Welcome
your riveting deliciousness
enraptured as I am by your employ
tantalizing
& Alive
Bore into my heart
Grow through my veins
Take me over
Beloved
Beloved
Love
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 7:25 PM UTC
The heart-shaped, red, hanging lights on our wall;
I see you in your full existence,
with all your pure skin,
all naked, with all your appeal.
The shiny, silky-smooth skin all bright and red;
I sense you, I touch you to devour
the deliciousness in you.
I come closer, dripping your body with my wet hair;
I **** in your honeycomb;
I taste the sweetness.
My honey, oh so sweet.
Your honey, oh, sweet honey—it’s one of a kind.
I drink it—all drunk with full pleasure, I feel total ecstasy.
Then I ride like a cowgirl to reach as far as I can be.
I hustle, I shake, I grind, I wind, I go deep
where there is only one path and only one way to be.
This road is an endless road; miles away it can lead.
It will be the road where you will find me,
and I will be riding on it endlessly!
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 1:15 PM UTC
Leavening levers leave us
fishy, wishing without precision
for fettered fritter letters,
feverishly licking with distinction;
Finnish fishermen finish
squishily dished deliciousness.
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 8:06 PM UTC
Oh the delicious cheese!
Its soo tasty!
so.....
different
so..
extraordinary
Its comes with toppings!
to help you eat more
so you can be satisfied
and hopefully not hungry anymore
they bring it to you
on time
so you can enjoy the deliciousness
of this modern marvel.
Enjoy
and eat more.
Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 12:02 PM UTC