"fantasized" poems
You can’t have your cake and eat it too. Not for long, anyway. Cake doesn’t settle well when it’s all you’ve had to eat. It’ll churn like butter inside you, and creep up your throat to project like a cannon, barreling through a wall. Cake won’t sit right with you anymore. At the mere mention of cake, your insides will crawl with disgust and an association of icing will replace your taste buds with ***** You will never be able to enjoy cake—at parties, as a delicacy, with ice cream—because you got greedy and wanted to eat your cake first rather than save it for such an occasion. Now all the different kinds of cake you fantasized about trying—black velvet, coffee cake, buttercream pound cake—will only be a reminder of your pitfall that led you to make yourself sick with desire, for cake. You can’t get the icing off your tongue, the smell of batter baking has festered in your nostrils wired to the pungent taste of red from between your teeth. But it’s all you can think of when you’ve been wronged by your favorite dessert. What sort of chemical reaction in the bowels of your stomach caused all of this sorrow? What rejected the cake? Your body has a way of telling you things—we should listen more. Cake is not sustenance, it has no value as a nutritious food. It doesn’t help, only hurts.
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 2:11 AM UTC
Is it wrong for me to hate you?
Its so hard not to love you.
Everytime I try to move on with my life..
You just have to go and make things all right.
Just know I don't need you.
Do note how bad I want you.
Because when I'm gone.
Thats the end of our song.
Is it wrong for me to say this?
Why is it so hard to move on?
If I said none of this.
Would you still play along?
As if we're still in love.
Like we never even stopped.
Maybe I should've stop.
Forget what I said, its dropped.
There is something that we love about us.
Its a shame that we both mask it with lust.
Guess we were never meant to be.
That future will stay a mystery.
I remember how we were.
Just years ago.
The world was our own.
And i held you so high.
Stars in your eyes.
How I fantasized.
Until you ****** it up for us.
So now, I'm gone.
Can't take this pain no more.
So tonight I'll give my loving.
But tomorrow I leave with yours.
Is it wrong for me to say this?
Why is it so hard to move on?
If I had not said any of this.
Would you still play along?
As if we're still in love.
Like we never even stopped.
Maybe I should stop.
Forget what I said, its dropped.
There is something that we love about us.
Its a shame that we both mask it with lust.
Guess we were never meant to be.
That future will stay a mystery.
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 7:11 PM UTC
The bright blue bottle hit me like a hint of death
on the breath of Spring.
I imagined it being tossed out a truck window
by underage teens fancying themselves clever
and mature and immortal
as if the earth had willed upon them
that her stolen treasure, Aluminum,
be returned or she’d cause their truck keys
disappear for all eternity.
I picked up the blue bottle
tried to feel resurrection
in a recycling sort of way
felt instead only the hollow emptiness
of mindless eternal reincarnation.
Winter had been long this year and lately
I fantasized resurrection more than usual
at a field where I stopped to listen to meadowlark and field sparrow calling for mates or alerting everyone to the sin of the blue bottle.
Several deer grazed the unseen first greens of Spring near skunk cabbage and coltsfoot.
At a small stream, I cupped my hand into the icy fast water and raised it to my lips, then splashed my face, then splashed some more, more,
then knelt, both knees at the streambed and submersed my face and head,
in self-inflicted baptism
for my own blue bottle sins,
opened my eyes, exhaled all my blue bubbles, for the longest of repentant moments,
pulled out of the water
gasping the holy Spring air
for dear life
and thereafter walked each step
in the garden of resurrection.
Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 9:25 PM UTC
I thought about you for a while today,
Imagined all the things I’d like to hear you say.
You said many things I wanted to be true,
And when I fantasized I said, “I love you, too.”
If only I could feel the things you feel,
Are you just a friend, or will more be revealed?
I know I’m not the perfect specimen.
But I love you now, and I will love you till the end.
And when you think of me,
Remember me with kindness.
If you go away,
Please, close the door with tenderness.
And all you are,
Is everything you could have been to me.
I know you would,
If only you could love me.
I sat in silence with my thoughts today.
And then I practiced all these things you’ll hear me say.
I never knew I had such feelings inside.
I would have said before, if it weren’t for my pride.
The truth is more like that I fear too much,
And do women like their men to be tough?
I wonder maybe if there could be a chance,
If I am bolder, so I’m here to show my stance.
And when you think of me,
Remember me with kindness.
If you go away,
Please, close the door with tenderness.
And all you are,
Is everything you could have been to me.
I know you would.
If only you could love me.
I knew that if I wore my feelings on my sleeve,
There was a chance that things would change and you would leave.
One in a million lucky few can feel like this.
I want to thank-you.
I love you.
You’re worth the risk.
My heart’s not broken, but it’s fortified.
You’ve taught me lessons, you brought joy to my life.
You’ve shown me kindness, and when to let go.
And lots of other things, I think you should know.
I have to tell you all these words I’ve said
Have just been swimming loudly ‘round in my head.
I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.
I am in love, even though you’re probably not.
And when you think of me,
Remember me with kindness.
If you go away,
Please, close the door with tenderness.
And all you are,
Is everything you could have been to me.
I know you would.
If only you could love me.
I knew that if I wore my feelings on my sleeve,
There was a chance that things would change and you would leave.
One in a million lucky few can feel like this.
I want to thank-you.
I love you.
You’re worth the risk.
Was writing for a musician friend, a guitarist, to see what he could do. Negotiations are on the table. Lyrics completed dec. 29, 2015. All copywrites reserved by the writer.
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 6:49 PM UTC
There are many ways to escape
I have tried them all-
I walked out of the door
I tried to run out of the gate
I passed through the fence
I dreamed
I fantasized
Why I am still here?
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 9:28 PM UTC
Anythin' I want...
Everythin' I've ever wanted...
Anythin' I dream...
Everythin' I've ever dreamed...
Brings my heart; to you!
Anythin' I desire...
Everythin' I've ever desired...
Anythin' I fantasize...
Everythin' I've ever fantasized...
Brings my heart; to you!
your hugs, your kisses-
your touch, your caress-
Ahh Baby, just like that...
You've had me fallin' from the start!
your hugs, your kisses-
your touch, your caress-
Every day I'm fallin'
a lil' more-
your hugs, your kisses-
your touch, your caress-
Every want...
I've ever wanted!
Every dream...
I've ever dreamed!
Every desire...
I've ever desired!
Every fantasy...
I've ever fantasized!
your hugs, your kisses-
your touch, your caress-
Anythin' and Everythin'...
Brings my heart; to you!
Cause of the day...
I was Yours~
your hugs, your kisses-
your touch, your caress-
You're My
Anythin' and Everythin',
but yet...
You're My Someone
I shouldn't have!
but...
each hug, each kiss-
each touch, each caress-
then I want and dream
of more!
still...
each hug, each kiss-
each touch, each caress-
then I desire and fantasize
of more...
with You!
Cause of...
your hugs, your kisses-
your touch, your caress-
You're my
Anythin' and Everythin'!
"My" Mr. Someone Special who's
hugs, kisses-
touch, caress-
I want! I dream!
I desire! I fantasize!
Mmm, Baby, yea...
2007
COPYRIGHT; Sabrina Denise Healey,
~Angelmom~
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 11:13 PM UTC
Yesterday it rained.
‘ , ‘,/ ‘ , ‘ ,\’ ,‘ , ‘ , ’
, ‘ ,\ , ‘ ,‘ , ‘/‘, ‘, , ‘
‘ ‘ ‘ /‘ , ‘ , ‘ \’ ‘, ‘ ,
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘
Forcing my lights to power off.
Last month we planted a seed.
We fantasized about our future SUN(or)FLOWER.
But lightening struck late last night.
Destroying my garden,
Snatching away my sunshine,
Leaving me trapped under heavy rain clouds.
Pouring teardrops of pain on my window.
Filling the skies with thundering disappointments,
As our paper plane came crashing down.
Dissolving in sorrow-filled puddles before our eyes.
All too soon, there was no time left between our “Hellos” & our “Goodbyes.”
Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 9:37 PM UTC
moment to moment
we are the sum total of
our chemicals
we think of ourselves
we think of others
as an average of our
time and spacial synergy
an anatomical amalgam
a biological brine
frankensteins with
personalities, commonalities and
unique agendas
sprinkled with neuroses that
range from microscopic to
catastrophic, whether
chemical reaction or
hyperbolic extraction
you can choose to
canonize or demonize
as long as you can
recognize
the flesh and the blood
versus the fantasized
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 1:46 AM UTC
Do you remember the day when we fantasized about
being in paradise..
The way I hold you tight caressing your thighs
I could feel your ice cold fingers running up my body
Why do you always make me feel
this naughty?
You tell me Just lay down and relax. .
I can feel your breath over my shoulder,
& let me tell you baby..
I dont want this to be over. .
I kiss your lips and bite your tongue,
We touch and kiss all night long
You hold me back because you can't resist
I tease you with my tongue so you'll never forget this
Count to three and your arms are around me. .
As I lift you up and walk you to my bed
I get so many imaginations in my head
I can feel the warmth of your naked body
covering the cold of my shivering body
There I was laying on your back
tracin my lips from the bottom to the top
Whispering ****** thoughts with an exotic voice
You turn around and tell me;
"Baby you leave me with no choice"
Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 5:14 PM UTC
I've always had a thing for
railroad tracks,
always fantasized standing on them
and watching the train come
with my arms
spread open
wide.
Feb 14, 2014
Feb 14, 2014 at 10:16 AM UTC
You already know why I'm here don't you?
I would tell you but you are so smart,
Probably heard all this before
Here comes the lies
The pattern of my life
I am happier now a days
I can see more light than ever before
Its like life really wants me
Can relate with me so well
When I smell the fresh air
I know that there is still a world for me
In the city or in the subs
Someone is there
I haven't fantasized in a long lime
Its been months since my last urge
I have never attempted, not even once
You know me
I smile and I laugh
My eyes are dry
If I need to cry,
The tears will come
My poems are getting happier too
You can feel the sun
It radiates from the words,
The verbs,
The nouns,
And the pronouns,
You really know how to help me
The music is so fresh
My sleep has never been better
I am glad that I feel better
I would tell you if anything was wrong
I trust you
I know you want to help
I have never been happier
Waking up I know is a blessing
You have helped me in every way
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 6:14 PM UTC
Your voice feels like silk caressing my skin
Goosebumps emerge from my pores when you say my name
...the way you say my name
Fantasized scenarios of myself blossoming for you with my body becoming one with yours underneath hidden heavens
I'm a damsel in distress and wanting you would be selfish of me
If only I were a goddess or queen
Nobody's affection would compare to mines
My Hercules
-k.v
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 5:06 AM UTC
A solitary tear
trickled down
her waiting cheeks.
A solitary sigh
escaped from within
her restrained lungs.
She fantasized.
A solitary thought
circled tirelessly
her fading peace.
A solitary prayer
escaped from within
her restless heart.
She endured.
A solitary wish
disturbed greatly
her beauty sleep.
A solitary memory
escaped from within
her buried past.
She stayed awake.
~ Moniba.
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 4:33 AM UTC
Equality will never happen because our actions and fantasized habits contradict what a perfect match is. With society's eyes high above the mindless horizon, many feel stranded between what wrong and right is. Therefore many have chose to win rather than lose the mold of plastic.
Although, hope lies with the few who choose to refuse the use of closed eyelids.
Few still choose what is morally, rather than religiously, righteous.
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 1:32 PM UTC
I saw an old man crying at
the precipice of his sanity,
ten stories above the sea,
and the world at his feet, a helo-deck:
a principality that had the worn out lay of home.
So trivialized.
So fantasized.
So immobilized.
Transmitting pirate-radio-waves eternally.
Seized the tower.
Hoisted the flag.
Crowned the queen.
"I've no blood right, only a passport," he said. "But do have the right mindset: I can't leave, we're so dangerous. Don't be a stranger now, we'll never be this dangerous again..."
Nov 22, 2022
Nov 22, 2022 at 5:45 PM UTC
I fell in love with a boy at a coffee shop
who always ordered vanilla chai.
I knew it was love because I could
never get up the courage to speak to him.
I fell in love with a bony fingered,
anorexic boy in my math class.
I think it was the way he did the problems in his head,
so he could use the paper for listing
everything he wanted to eat that day, but wouldn’t.
I fell in love with a girl who had dreadlocks
and burn marks on her neck.
I always fantasized about touching them,
asking if they still warmed up her skin.
I fell in love with the older man at the tutoring center.
I failed Spanish so that I could spend the next semester
eye ******* him from across the study table.
I've always had a thing for married men.
I fell in love with girl who pushed up her
***** and pouted for football players.
It may have been unrequited,
but at least I didn’t catch anything.
I fell in love with the person
who left death threats in my locker.
I’d never known someone who felt
the same way about me as I did.
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 12:19 PM UTC
Lady from deepest dirt, deeper than the ocean, denser than Marianas Trench, speaks so proper, in a sweet subtle voice: “I do.”
Gentleman from highest sky, higher than the clouds, brighter than the morning star, speaks so assertive in a firm and quiet whisper: “I do.”
No hesitation in either of their voices, as always they give off the radiant atmospheric glow of love. In their lives, long lasting is his proposal, long lasting is her gaze.
The greatest of events is this wedding, greater than time itself.
He is a ‘gift from God’ to her, and he forever ‘excels’ to stay by with her.
He dreamt of her before, but never like this, she fantasized her wedding but never dreamt of him.
Can there be anything more right than the love of husband and wife?
Can there be anything more right than the pact they have formed?
Can there be any place more special than the familial bond?
If there is than by the magnitude of heaven, it should be destroyed.
Hope is so well-founded, faith is so assured, joy is so abundant, but love creates them all.
He never lost trust in her, she always felt rested in his arms.
Kisses always tenderly embraced, a long ogle at all times; every coming together.
He stands always ***** never bended to one knee, she understood as the love they share together was and is always never traditional.
They understand each other with little but a gaze, they care for so little else but their love.
No necessary dreams of the future anymore; fantasies are now their reality.
Dreams exist outside of the head: the nightmares will be fought together.
The dragon is far from slain, but together they ward it off as one.
One flesh, One soul, One mind, One heart, all fighting together.
The battle will be forever, but Love never fails.
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 10:46 AM UTC
A faith we fancy is that freedom is fabricated and forged for us by our forefathers who fought and forced their foes to forfeit their feud. They fended fiercely and defended fearlessly a fictionalized fact, freedom, filtered with fire and flame. A few fell to be famed fellows of the future while a fraction of the fraternity are farewelled faceless.
All those frigid flashback brought-forth what we framed and fantasized as freewill and forbade freaks to falsify our fascination.
It all falters as we fathom that freedom didn't fade ,but w/o a fons-et-ergo, a foolish fairytale foretold for us to falsely follow a formula for the foremen to fortify the fake façade of freedom while we flounder and they float.
And if we flush and fracture their folderol, we are flagged as flagitious, frauds and fellons.
For the feasibility of freedom is a mere ****** Fuckery to **** us.
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 12:02 PM UTC
When I was little, I stuck scissors into the electrical outlet
something I never would have had the urge to do if my parents hadn't told me it was dangerous
I was a rocket pop, always standing too close to the edge,
always carrying a matchbook in my pocket
I'm not the only one who flirts with death
Death is the quarterback, death is the prettiest girl on the cheerleading team
Death is popular at parties
And when someone seems so out of my reach like that, I tend to romanticize them
So I fantasized about pills that shone like pearls
I envisioned ribs sticking out from my skeletal frame, finally frail enough to ****** the object of my desires
I thought about razor blades scattered like flower petals on the bathroom floor
Etching memento moris into my skin
I dreamed of fenders and pavement rushing up to meet my lips for one last kiss
God, I had the biggest crush on death
But so did everyone else
And I saw them falling further in love as if they were tumbling from a skyscraper
This is not a love poem, this is a goodbye
Because I have instead become infatuated with beautiful things
I am a creator, so I must stop destroying myself
Dear death
I don't want to be just another girl who doesn't look when she crosses the street, hoping to meet you on the other side
I will be okay on my own, and I'll keep the scissors locked up in the craft cabinet
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 7:29 PM UTC
to affinity fortified
to fosforus frenchynice
to effortless to fantasized
to effulgent freefateflight
to fantasy freefallity
to faithful affirmity
to fabulous effervescent
to fiery ferociousness
to fairy femininity
to feline femalefool
to fuzzy flutterby
to flambouyantsy
to flameaman
to fellowfollows
to face to face
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 1:01 PM UTC
I wake up in a cold sweat in the midst of the night
So terrified to figure out whats real
What's fake.
I looked for you ,
Searched for the comfort of your arms
Because you always scared the bad guys away.
You always said,
"Don't worry, babe.
It's nothing but a dream."
So why does it seem,
When I went to find you,
All I found were empty promises.
Do you remember when I was just a child?
When you used to hold me tight,
To make all the scary thoughts disappear.
Because you used to say that it's only a dream
So when did the dreams start to realize themselves?
When did dreams surface into the reality of things?
Its not like wishing upon useless stars
Asking for all of your dreams to come true,
Because sometimes
Just sometimes those dreams are horrid nightmares,
Nightmares that mask themselves and hide in human form.
Dear mother,
Where are you?
Im searching for the empty promises of you,
Hoping to find that you're still here,
Still here to hold me tight and make all of those creatures disappear
Dear mother,
Where are you?
Do you still love me and are you even here?
Staring at your cold eyes every time you fake a smile or a laugh.
Where did our mother-child relationship go?
Dear mother,
Have I disappointed you?
Have I forsaken this unbreakable bond because I am not the child you wanted,
Or raised?
Have I strayed too far away from the path you set for me?
Or did you delute yourself to the fantasized images you had of me?
Carrying it far into the grave.
I'm sorry for the child I turned out to be.
But I thought mothers were supposed to carry unconditional love for the child
So when did it start to become a condition?
When did the love turn sour and whisk away into the wind
Dear mother,
Do you love me?
Dear mother,
Why aren't you here?
Dear mother,
Where have you gone?
The beasts were supposed to disappear but you went away with them
Dear mother,
Where are you?
I miss you,
Where have you gone?
And do you still love me?
Dear mother,
I woke up in a cold sweet in the midst of the night
I cried out for your name
I wanted to be held tight by your open arms
And wanted to be told all those creatures would disappear.
So
Why did you turn into one of them?
Why did I come to find
The empty promises and your nurtured lies?
Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 3:30 AM UTC
I’ll take you on a journey,
Holding you by your hand,
I’m the first girl to hold it, right?
I’ll grasp your trembling fingers tight
And lead you into the unknown,
Whispering in your ear words
That you’d only fantasized about.
You’ll whisper back, that without
Me you can’t imagine living anymore,
And I’ll carefully twist my words,
So you won’t notice that I didn’t assure
You with the promise of being by your side forever.
Together we’ll walk towards that black hole,
Whose door I’ll have decorated with color,
And you, unsuspecting, will lean on me,
Will smile at me, will thank God you found me.
A minute more of contentment I’ll give you,
But that’ll be it.
And before you’ll even realize, I’ll push you in.
You’ll turn around.
You’ll be all alone.
Surrounded by pitch dark silence.
Trapped in the emptiness of betrayal.
Caged in your thoughts and second thoughts.
Entangled in the web of self-doubt.
Tossing and turning and hitting invisible walls.
No one to answer your cries and calls.
Kneeling on the abyss, filled only with anger
For the girl who pushed you into black infinity,
You’ll lie in there, helpless, still unsure
Whether you hate me, or you love me.
(Or do both).
While I’ll be gone, ****
And my world is soundproof.
So, oblivious to your travails,
I’ll sit comfortably,
And will flip through the pages of my diary,
That records names of all those who had before you,
Fallen in the very same manner, for me.
And I’ll pen your name down, another one in the list.
Then I’ll think of that girl in my school bus
who’d once mocked me-
“No one will ever say I Love You to you”.
I’ll scoff at that decade-old memory,
Setting out on the search for a new casualty.
Aug 9, 2012
Aug 9, 2012 at 1:05 PM UTC
I am a writer who hates whiskey.
I feel that I should love it like a writer's only friend,
Like I should sip it from a glass while I scribe with broken pens,
Like I should clink the ice against the sides and swirl it, deep in thought,
And take it neat and raw, in admiration of its steely course.
It should lubricate the mind and guide the flow of words to page,
And since a nervous age I've yearned to say I love the way it burns and maims,
And maybe on a certain day, I'll glug it without choking, breathless,
But for now it hurts my brain to even think about its... smokey wetness.
I've idolized an archetype, a writer with a harmful life,
Sit alone in bars at night, lament the fact that art is strife,
But recently I'm thinking more, and honestly, this can't be right,
I love the pen and paper, and I love the fact it's hard to write.
It's the way that I've romanticized it, fantasized and glamorized it,
Like I could just forget about a novel, let Jack Daniel's write it,
While I sat and focused on my magnum opus, penning parts of it in prose,
I viewed my present like it's hindsight, through glasses tinted rose.
Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 5:38 PM UTC