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Adilson Smith Nov 2017
I would say
I love you with all my heart.

But that's not quite right.

For I love you with far much more
Than just that one part.

For instance,
I love you with my lips:
They pucker lovingly like filled balloons
Rising skyward in a knot.

I love you also
With my eyes. Like a ruly clerk,
They sieve your frame with careful affection,
Vitalized by every detail.

My ears, too, are full of love.
I can feel them during the night;
Thumping with blood
As you rise and decline
Asleep in my nook.

There are many others.
My eyebrows, so enlivened,
Agitate my face
And my toes, so excited,
Tense in my shoes
As though afraid of getting wet.

Other parts aren’t so conspicuous.
My arms plot in the dark --
They long to swim around your waist
And link us back to breast.

And my fingers, naughty things,
Scheme to tease your dress
Above your pretty knees
And above your pretty chest.

Would you believe,
Even my ****'s involved!
Though he’s more obvious
With his *****, open smile
And cheeky morning breath.

But chief of all my loving parts
Is my un-run soul
Unkenneled, at last,
Sprinting furiously
Next to yours.
# love #silly

Note -- this is very much a rewrite of Watsky's splendid and original "love poem" (worth checking out on YouTube).
TJ Shadows Feb 2018
The taste of bitter toxicity
The feel of obsidian
The sound of inhalation
The excitement of exhalation

Heart racing and it begins
Butterflies start to dance
Rushing flow of ecstasy
giddiness embracing

Flying higher and higher
Freedom and happiness
awareness with every touch
bliss

Heart compressing
Stampede of hysteria
Slow crawl into desolation
Loosing grip

Falling faster and faster
servitude and disorientation
Restlessness with every thought
desperation

The taste of bitter toxicity
The feel of obsidian
The sound of inhalation
The excitement of exhalation
Addiction, to whatever you’re Addicted to.
Tomorrow is game day all across Husker land Everyone is excited,the Ducks just don't understand
My bird shot is ready
The remote in my hand
I promise to yell and go crazy
I will cheer them on as loud as I can
Tomorrow is Gameday
Some ducks are going to die!!!!
  Let's get ready
Let the red balloons fly
It's Lincoln.......******* ......... NEBRASKA ..........
Now wipe the tears from your eyes
It's go go Huskers until the day I die
      Final HUSKERS 35 Ducks 32
talkshows and the yellow press
get excited in excess
over his shenanigans
that delight his faithful fans

rumors of these *** affairs
strong words for all macho players
     in the game of social thrones
texts with threatening undertones
     for minorities and women
     treating immigrants like demons

neither fans nor his opponents 
seem to notice the components
of the white house strategy

     throw them bones
     fodder for the yellow press

and while  they fight
clandestinely out of sight
works the Trumpian policy
 
money laundering   blatant lies
scolding allies   breaking ties
adoring foes   praising those
     usurpers of democracies
     experts in atrocities
slowly yet persistently
     undermine  civility  
     with foul language 

court the aristocracies 
         of oil sheikdoms in the East
praising communist dictators
who have helped him build his towers

step by step he‘s leading US
from the groups of international powers
to an isolation desert
at the margins of the world
slogans we have rarely heard
over decades  
      now re-nourished
twittered with presidential flourish
make America small again

warning voices call in vain

no wonder the statue of liberty
is hiding her face in misery (*)
(*) This at the moment still is 'fake news' - but I would not be surprised if she did...!
Cné Sep 2017
Long lines looped the carousel
the first time you gazed my eye,
mounted on that chestnut mare,
grasped tight to the reigns up high.

I see his face around the bend,
a corn dog in his hand.
Locking eyes as I rise. I blush,
above the crowd he stands.
  
Light flickers, mouths water
delicate contoured lips laugh. I smile.
The music hesitates along with my breath.
I think I'll be staying awhile.

Bewildered and a little dizzy,
I dismount with a giggle.
I lick my dry lips, dreamily,
hoping he is single.

With the wind, a light mist blows.
I can see her slowly get wet,
stumbling she falls my way.
I'm excited, this day isn't over yet

Drip, drip, drip upon my face,
anxiously, I turn to hurry.
In my haste, he catches my waist
swallowing... I fall covertly.

Lips moisten, I pull her near
a kiss, slipped, tongues twirl,
wanton whispers whisked away,
drenched deep passion's unfurl.

A stranger's kiss upon my lips
beneath the dreary skies.
Soaking wet, I'm still on fire
He caught me by surprise.

A stranger's kiss upon my lips
beneath the queching skies.
Heaven sent, a burning desire;
she, such a welcomed surprise.
A collaboration with TSPoerty.
In honor of the State Fair of Texas opening day ... tomorrow.
https://hellopoetry.com/TS_Poetry/
Thanks for the ride Tim!
Cné Mar 2017
skimming the feed of poetry
reading the works of poets
liking here and there
without ever a care
some of us rather copiously
we all have our favorites
but the poem is just the beginning
of the start with a spark

if you never look at the activity
you are missing the best part
it's the jam that turns me on
in comments short or long
continuing the song

so don't be offended
of the flame that's ignited
its all rather splendid
to fire the wordplay excited
it's not really a contest
but more of a sinuous ebb and flow
hoping for a laugh or looking to decompress
when you have a day that blows
all of you at hp inspire me
https://youtu.be/ABFtbYKW-QY
Grateful   for
where  I'm  at,

                        Excited about
                        where I'm going.
                                                          ­                                   Jon York   2019
Isaac Jul 2018
white pages before me
pure as snow

no mark, no scratch
no story to show

page after page
waiting to be used

patient, at peace
excited, and amused

each page a day
of the future world

anticipating the time
when their purpose will unfold

who will be a part of them?
everyone but those yet to be

who will enjoy them most?
the people who now get ready
Written 1 July 2018

Start purposefully and knowingly planting seeds now.
Sammie wells Dec 2013
Christmas is here
Santa's been
Listen to them
Excited screams

Racing down the stars
Jumping on the spot
Excited giggles
Shouting out

Santa's been
Santa's been

Tearing open presents
Shouts of Delight
Lots of hugs and kisses
Smiles on everyone

Family gathers round
Chatter never ends
Laughter fulls the room
Kisses under the mistletoe
Raise a toast

Santa's been
Santa's been

Tucking into turkey
Hiding Brussel sprouts
Pulling Christmas crackers
Making people laugh

Merry Christmas everbody

Santa's been
Santa's been
Gemma Jun 2018
I used to get excited over
the sound of heavy rain pelting the window frame ,
and the smell of freshly baked food that wafted through the halls of my house to the front door ,
or when my siblings and I got home from school just at the right time so I'd see them on the porch.
Little things meant a lot
But now a lot of things are best forgot
Because the rain that hit the window stopped,
the smell of the food now makes me nauseous,
and my sister and brothers no longer live under the same roof as me
The picture that's stained by my tears of them is the closest thing to those porch meetings that I've got .
Jay Jun 2018
I'M MAKING nachos in your toaster oven. The chips fall in the pan without a problem. Beans, evenly distributed (if I do say so myself.) Salsa- good to go. Then the cheese. Generic brand shredded cheese blend. I dangle my (washed) fingers into the zip-lock bag, grab a generous pinch and rain mild cheddar down on my gourmet meal. And I feel the tears building. "No," my conscious scolds, "you will not cry over shredded cheese." I add another pinch for flavor, then another to assert dominance. I slide the pan into the tiny oven- triumphant! But the next task breaks me. I freeze when I try to adjust the heat setting. I hear your voice so clearly, like you're still calling from the next room: "you have to press the TOAST button, it cooks much faster."  The tears start to roll. I think about how excited you were when cheese bubbled perfectly- "just a little brown, ever so slightly crispy." We would joke about your persnickety preferences, likely a product of your superior taste. Of course, you would have appreciated anything I made for you, but it was always better when the dish matched the idea in your head...when I made it like you would have made it (if you were only well enough to cook for yourself again.) In the present, I poke the TOAST button and flee the kitchen as to not cry in front of the smothered chips. I sit on the sofa and break down, gasping in childish sobs. "I miss her," I wail to an empty house. Warm tears coat my cheeks in the air-conditioned room. I feel so small. I feel so foolish for crying over ******, little things. I feel so... so... A bell dings in the kitchen. I wipe my sleeve across my face and traipse back to the toaster. Hand into oven mitt, mitt onto pan, pan onto table. I grab the plastic tubs of sour cream and guacamole from the fridge and a spoon from the drawer that sticks a little when you try to open it. I pick the non-wilted bits off the head of lettuce and rinse them under the faucet. I finish the recipe. I pull out a chair. I sit down to nachos for one.
Grief is such a strange emotion/process.

*Oh my! Thank you all so much for your support! I wrote this back in June when I needed to get it out of my head and had no idea it was chosen as a daily until I just logged back on and thought there was a glitch with my notifications number. I was slightly mortified that a piece of my mourning got exposure but after reading your comments I'm glad that I documented something many of you identified with. I've since journeyed a bit farther in my grief- slowly overcoming my initial instinct of trying to instantaneously analyze every feeling to determine whether I'm "allowed" to have it. I went to a group bereavement meeting offered by the hospital that treated the loved one in this poem and the nurse running the session made a good point- no one can fully understand another person's relationship with an individual who's passed on. Interpersonal relationships are unique and so is grieving. Being gentle with yourself (especially in times of struggle) is woefully underrated. And with that, I send love, gratitude, and positive vibes to this wonderful community
An unexpected kiss
four years ago today
after a late flight,
after a Greek salad (no onions),
after awkward chit-chat
and a win by the Colts
over the Patriots (35-34).

I miss that kiss,
that man, his touch,
those caring eyes,
that adorable smile
and handsome face.

I am excited to my core
when holding him,
hearing his voice,
touching his hair,
caressing his hand,
the feel of his tongue.

An unexpected kiss
four years ago today
changed my thoughts,
my heart and soul
...forever.
Cunning Linguist Nov 2013
Hella business
Got hella *******
Poppin double bottles
With a couple of mistresses
Stellar mistreatment
Here's the key
Lock em in the cellar
Forever their memory lies
But a troubling mystery

Hysteria erupting
Like waves gushing
From the tip of my *****
My genius is better
I'm the King here's my scepter
Now watch the teeth
You worthless Queen
Or I'll stifle them screams

I **** ******* on trampolines
Motion sickness?
Overdose on Dramamine

***** to the magnitude
Of my impressive **** munching
Exploring deplorable nether-regions galore;
Can't touch me you got nothing
Broke *******
Grind your brain like morning coffee beans

Shame is a word just outside the boundaries
of my fabulous vocabulary

Oh, am I contrite?
How trifling
Check my charm I'm enlightening
Enigmatic and igniting sporadically like lightning
Magically radical voyaging down
                                                           down
                                                  down the rabbit's hole
Inciting excited riots to light fires spark fuses and chew on live wires
You do not frighten me.
Delivering excruciating asphyxiation to every pwn'd n00b
Is my modus operandi
And this is my magnum opus

I have Tourette's

Conceive these merriments of abhorrent mental abortions
Precisely concise and incisive concocting incoherent comatose monstrosities to flatten your lifelines
Conduct these ensembles of debauchery and narcotics -
I'm fascinating;
Crippling your mind like a lobotomy and tripping the light fantastic through bombarding planes of consciousness
I'm on acid thraxXx'd the **** OUT and faded
Levitating fading and oscillating in time while inflating my ego

But lets be realistic
the caliber of my linguistics is intrinsically aesthetic
but none too altruistic
Untrue!
Be reasonable lest I demand be-headings on grounds of treason
Its not hard for me -
It's profound, the sound of suffering;
I'll swallow your soul
'Tis the season!

Inference for instance -
****-hand upturned to oceans of incessant peasants
Pestering to ****** and fluster your festering ****-hole
Exact my revenge; begin phase mayhem
initiating total brain annihilation
interring bodies posthaste with skilled persistence
And sporting in poor taste
RESISTANCE IS FUTILE

You who peers through eye of the pyramid-
Would you be so kind as to interpret my footprint at face-value?
Do you take me for a fool yet seek prophets reaping profits?
Listen to them sleep, baaah-ing away like flocks of little sheep
My hearts not on my sleeve but I have a trick or two up there;

Now bow before my marvelous flow
As I behold my throne whilst throwing bows and exposing hoes.
Stephen E Yocum Aug 2018
The older we grow
the faster life goes,
priorities change
quality of living
and loving takes
precedent, over
self-indulgence
and material things.
Nothing as important
as family and friends.

It is racing now,
these fleeting days
and years, reflected
most in my grandsons
growing too soon from
children to young men.

Along with Steller parents
our little farm provides
a learning ground for the
kids, teaching life lessons
that inspire character and
self discipline, with Cows
and pigs to show at fairs,
pride earned with accomplishments
and Blue Ribbons to share.

I am so lucky having a ringside
seat, watching yet another
family generation ascend.
Football and basket ball
games to attend, Christmas
morns of excited children
clamoring down the stairs,  
many birthday celebrations
with ever more candles aglow.
Memories all, retained and shared.

Perhaps the best part is,
these grandsons of mine,
still are up for hugs and
good night kisses, genuine
affection received and given.

Families are a true blessing
and a privilege, the only
real reason we are here.

All these things, remain the
sweet frosting on my aging
Grandfather's cake of life.
I sometimes wonder where
I would be without all these,  
my reasons for being?
Hindi na ikaw ang gusto ko
Yan ang lagi kong paalala sa sarili ko
Sa twing nakatingin ako sa sayo.
Ayaw ko na ng mga mata mo.
Ayaw ko na ng mga ngiti mo.
Ayaw ko na ng lahat sayo.
Pinili kong maging pusong bato
At hindi pansisinin ang nararamdaman ko.
Parang normal lang
Gaya nung wala pang ikaw.
Kaya ko nung wala pang ikaw
Nagkandaletche letche lang nman ako nung may ikaw
Kasi nung may ikaw
Para akong baliw na laging nakangiti
Nakatingin sa langit
Iniisip ka palagi
At
Ayaw ko na non.
Kaya araw araw akong magiging bato
Sinasanay ang sarili para maging strong
Kahit nakatingin ako sayo ngayon.
Ngayon
Ngayon parang kinakain ko ang lahat ng pinagsasabi ko
Bakit ikaw parin ang gusto ko
Sa pagising sa umaga
excited pa akong pumasok
kasi ikaw ang makikita ko
kuntento sa sandali
HINDI
kuntento sa isang oras na pasulyap sulyap sayo
“pasulyap sulyap”
Ibig sabihin Segundo
Pero sa bawat segundo ng isang oras na gunugugol ko
Ang gusto ay ang tumitig lang sayo  
Sa mga mata mo, sa ngiti mo
Kahit sa lahat ng kaabnormalan ng katawan at isip mo
Tanggap ko.
Kasi ikaw parin ang gusto ko
Ikaw ang gusto ko
Sabi pa nila tumingin na raw ako sa iba
Kaya sinunod ko sila
Pero sa twing ikaw ay makikita
Parang madilim na kwarto
na ikaw lang
Ang tanging ilaw na bukas
Sa sandaling yun
Walang ibang gamit
Kundi isang ilaw na naiiba sa lahat.
susubok akong magsalita pero lalayo kana
tinatawag ka ng kaibigan mo
kasi ang isang oras ay tapos na.
“SANDALI” sabi ng prof.
muling napinta ang ngiti sa labi
dahil sa huling sandali
sumulyap muli sayo.
   Patapos na ang sandali
At tinawag kana muli
ng mga kaibigan mo.
habang hinihiling ko,
Na sana ay muling magsalita ang prof ng kung ano,
Pero sa oras na yon unang lumabas
ng silid ang propesor.
dahil tapos na ang sandali
Tapos na.
Ang isang oras.
Cindra Carr Jul 2010
The soft petal-like wisps of romance mixed with a hushed musical score.
It swelled with recognition.  
The dawning feeling was of rightness.
And the place to fit was exacting.  
The rush of emotions surged.
And they broke with the excited gasps of the breath of realization.
I laughed.  
The thought of longing to find someone.
Someone to love lurked in my mind.  
It wasn’t a dream.  
It was now!
Life has brought me to this point and I laughed.
The sheer joy of attainment was here.  
I laughed with happiness because it was my joy.
It was my time.

cc2008
ShyAnne Peterson Oct 2018
you inspired me you always do,
I'm excited that I met you,
you make me smile,
you make me laugh,
thank you for being my other half.
Cathyy Nov 2016
She's a book of poetry
easy to read if you're willing to read
She's so bittersweet to me
always excited,
yet tired at the same time
Will she ever find time?
To breathe..
And get away from the lights

She's so beautiful to me,
the way that Art fills her mind...

Oh Camila, if you're listening to this song
I hope you see that
you have purpose
you're so gorgeous
you're so strong
And I'm just a fangirl,
in a paper world
full of paper towns and hearts...
But your song makes me dance and-
Love Only's my anthem
and we're on our way to the stars... ♥
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