"desiccant" poems - Hello Poetry

Numb is the girl who dreams The one who fails to see everything Even though the world is not all that it seems She finds the beauty in anything Dumb is the boy who leaves The one who is burying A life he is told not to believe Who will just continue worrying Numb is the girl who loves Who cries tears of gold- Over just one silly dove- Who thought she was too bold Dumb is the boy who is beloved Who had been told "A proper man is devoid of- Girls who aren't bought and sold Dumb is the boy who never knew She was his only glue

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Mar 26, 2014

Mar 26, 2014 at 6:29 PM UTC

GracePickard

Desiccant glue

Numb is the girl who dreams The one who fails to see everything Even though the world is not all that it seems She finds the beauty in anything Dumb is the boy who leaves The one who is burying A life he is told not to believe Who will just continue worrying Numb is the girl who loves Who cries tears of gold- Over just one silly dove- Who thought she was too bold Dumb is the boy who is beloved Who had been told "A proper man is devoid of- Girls who aren't bought and sold Dumb is the boy who never knew She was his only glue

18

parched tongue please mister cola carmex these cracked lips it's time to hydrate this carbo bi- sickling through vacant streets for a cure my tummy is like this town a desiccant cactus it's 12 a.m. in stockton 12 amens spew from dry desert gums i sea liquor store icee soda this is no mirage i found atlantis at the bottom of a coke bottle peddling back home peddling peddling stop I dropped My holy grail He stops Is he thirsty? He pulls knife Like a sleeved playing card “give me your **** Poor minus poor 0-0 =0 Or X0 After he cheapshots me Fist meet face Face meet fist obliged Profit 10 cents Gym membership Fuzzy lint ***** But not my soda Or my sweat Or my tears Or my blood It’s time To hydrate

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Mar 29, 2013

Mar 29, 2013 at 4:43 PM UTC

mark-anthony-gavigan

thirsty

parched tongue please mister cola carmex these cracked lips it's time to hydrate this carbo bi- sickling through vacant streets for a cure my tummy is like this town a desiccant cactus it's 12 a.m. in stockton 12 amens spew from dry desert gums i sea liquor store icee soda this is no mirage i found atlantis at the bottom of a coke bottle peddling back home peddling peddling stop I dropped My holy grail He stops Is he thirsty? He pulls knife Like a sleeved playing card “give me your **** Poor minus poor 0-0 =0 Or X0 After he cheapshots me Fist meet face Face meet fist obliged Profit 10 cents Gym membership Fuzzy lint ***** But not my soda Or my sweat Or my tears Or my blood It’s time To hydrate

60

There's a caterpillar in my right ear canal. It's almost neon-green, with poison-orange bulbs, the color of grafted cactus. It's squeezed its way quite far in, stuffed itself in as if it were an expanding foam earplug, the spines stuck in my inner pink skin. I lean my head to the right, knock the left side with the flat of my palm. Eggs, the same as desiccant beads, the color of earwax, pitter-patter out and onto my table as if they were plastic raindrops on a trampoline. There will come a day when it cocoons itself, and that moth flies free, but until that day, I will continue to turn it towards you every time you speak.

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May 30, 2011

May 30, 2011 at 1:38 PM UTC

Rmatheson

Caterpillar In My Ear

There's a caterpillar in my right ear canal. It's almost neon-green, with poison-orange bulbs, the color of grafted cactus. It's squeezed its way quite far in, stuffed itself in as if it were an expanding foam earplug, the spines stuck in my inner pink skin. I lean my head to the right, knock the left side with the flat of my palm. Eggs, the same as desiccant beads, the color of earwax, pitter-patter out and onto my table as if they were plastic raindrops on a trampoline. There will come a day when it cocoons itself, and that moth flies free, but until that day, I will continue to turn it towards you every time you speak.

16

I'm having fists of laughter, daisy-cutter dreams in formaldehyde, creating the worlds most loved sport by kicking the heads of Danes. Mutually assured corruption I can feel creeping down the inside of my nostril, across my tiny hairs, but I am still, let it come; it runs out and onto my lips. I **** its mercurial clearness down. I was born without fingernails or teeth, forever stuck gumming the soft pink nail beds. I keep everyone out of my life; it is the only way to justify never seeing you. Desiccant children pour from their mothers' laps as if they were clear beads from that little paper shoe box packet. You are an apricot full of sand; I am a Mongol stealing maidenheads. A peach is a rose - deep inside drips cyanide.

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Aug 25, 2012

Aug 25, 2012 at 9:07 AM UTC

Rmatheson

A Peach is a Rose

I'm having fists of laughter, daisy-cutter dreams in formaldehyde, creating the worlds most loved sport by kicking the heads of Danes. Mutually assured corruption I can feel creeping down the inside of my nostril, across my tiny hairs, but I am still, let it come; it runs out and onto my lips. I **** its mercurial clearness down. I was born without fingernails or teeth, forever stuck gumming the soft pink nail beds. I keep everyone out of my life; it is the only way to justify never seeing you. Desiccant children pour from their mothers' laps as if they were clear beads from that little paper shoe box packet. You are an apricot full of sand; I am a Mongol stealing maidenheads. A peach is a rose - deep inside drips cyanide.

19

*Arcadia, or what is now spliced of aeons' great Gates of gold that rust in hate Islands on grim sulfur lakes; I have no demeanors that wait They've left and gone away To the rise of demise and acid rain Where epidermis boils Quintessence abolished and spoiled; Grand scent of desiccant Miff's so indelicate Caveats and feats of nothing; No rise My apotheosis' hellish paradise*

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Nov 24, 2010

Nov 24, 2010 at 4:48 AM UTC

meb-1

Aeon Paradise

*Arcadia, or what is now spliced of aeons' great Gates of gold that rust in hate Islands on grim sulfur lakes; I have no demeanors that wait They've left and gone away To the rise of demise and acid rain Where epidermis boils Quintessence abolished and spoiled; Grand scent of desiccant Miff's so indelicate Caveats and feats of nothing; No rise My apotheosis' hellish paradise*

12

Has anyone ever actually eaten a desiccant packet. I mean, has anyone picked a packet from a bag of jerky And said "This doesn't look like jerky, and it doesn't feel like jerky, Let me eat it anyway" And, even if someone did eat one, And they died.. Would it really be a bad thing to get rid of someone that stupid?

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Aug 29, 2012

Aug 29, 2012 at 3:08 PM UTC

the-darkness

Musing #2

Has anyone ever actually eaten a desiccant packet. I mean, has anyone picked a packet from a bag of jerky And said "This doesn't look like jerky, and it doesn't feel like jerky, Let me eat it anyway" And, even if someone did eat one, And they died.. Would it really be a bad thing to get rid of someone that stupid?

7

Dryness pervades On the arid wasteland Cracks spider through the earth Desiccant littered through the fissures Wearied, I seek Searching, I stumble Through parched land, Limitless The horizon bleeds As the day ends Coldness permeates Into my soul No direction This landscape Void of paths Here, my footprints Circles, I wander Days, I suffer… Lost. Lips split from drought Yearning for balm Open, asking Yet not without doubt… A Clear Singular Dewdrop Answers Hope A jewel from the sky Promise of Mercy A tear from God’s eye I am but unworthy Dizzy and haggard I crawl to deliverance Where once was a droplet A stream burgeons forth This water, a well within Flowing to restore Never shall I thirst again Only You do I adore

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Apr 24, 2012

Apr 24, 2012 at 5:44 PM UTC

monica-rose

My Soul Thirsts

Dryness pervades On the arid wasteland Cracks spider through the earth Desiccant littered through the fissures Wearied, I seek Searching, I stumble Through parched land, Limitless The horizon bleeds As the day ends Coldness permeates Into my soul No direction This landscape Void of paths Here, my footprints Circles, I wander Days, I suffer… Lost. Lips split from drought Yearning for balm Open, asking Yet not without doubt… A Clear Singular Dewdrop Answers Hope A jewel from the sky Promise of Mercy A tear from God’s eye I am but unworthy Dizzy and haggard I crawl to deliverance Where once was a droplet A stream burgeons forth This water, a well within Flowing to restore Never shall I thirst again Only You do I adore

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