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city of flips Jul 2018
extra long vintage convertible car.
notice my big shoe size,
do I know what that really means?
extra little lies on top of giant whoppers.
the number of figures on their W-2,
and my measurements and cup-size, please.
please treasure
their perspicacious needs.  

what’s with the obsession with size?

won’t sleep with them on the first date,
they are shocked, just shocked,
when informed on the dotted line
that a hundred dinners won’t turn me into their
personal come-when-called *****.
at nineteen, by now,
I should know better,
do as I’m told

what’s this obsession with hurry up, immediate satisfaction?

and patting my head like i’m their favorite pet,
mansplaining me how the world works,
cause at nineteen I don’t know ****
just listen to the know-not-a-**** thing
arrogance of knowing it all impress themselves

what’s this need to be superior but a huge (size) coverup?

yeah yeah, get me a better class of men,
like my literate professors who will improve my grade
for use of the insights of my mouth on their poetic gestures.

I can wait, till I find a right sized human being,
in every which way,
especially
if he shows me the true love poems writ
for other girls,
then I may even trust him,
sooner
than never
Kenji Apr 4
She walks with grace, and kisses like a seductress.
She handles with poise, and fights like a warrior.
She dances with beauty, and sees with wonder.
She has the eyes of a devilish cat, Cleopatra, a destined goddess.
Luscious lips as she bites them with effortless ease, soft and supple, tastes like cherry.
A dark mysterious demeanor that screams, tell me more.
Skin as soft as silk, toned with honey brown.
Seductive, sultry, sensual, and ****.
Bad, bold, brave, and bewildered.
She is the Taurus woman, a woman to be greatly feared of her undying passion and intense magnitude.
Magnetic and love so soft, it can rip your insides apart till it subsides with hers.
Majestic as the great white horse, flips her mane and looks at you seductively.
Fear not my great ones, we are all just gods in disguise.
Kiss me, touch me, hold me, and **** me.
Brooding with a territorial existence, protective, possessive, and romantic to the touch.
Love me...
As I will love you back, 10 times harder.
The Taurus woman

Sun in Taurus (Stubborn, seductive, sultry, sensual)
Mercury in Taurus (Slow thinkers, common sense speakers, logical, practical)
Traveler Jun 2013
I was turned on by a Toaster, she tanned my bread to gold
In time she ejected me, it was her natural Toaster role...
I fell for her sister, a Deep Fryer in despair, my lust began to boil
I had to come up for some air...
I ran off with a Can Opener, she could even sharpen knives,
She opened up a can of *** whip, she could never be my wife!
I met a **** Freezer, but her heart was cold as ice, I was bitten by her frosty ways
Once bitten, never twice...
I made my way across the tile to an Oven quite unique
All her features were well displayed, on this EZ Baking Freak!
She cooked me on the surface, yet burnt me deep within
I guess my culinary skills were lacking in the end...
So now I date a Spatula safely from the heat
She flips a mean burger and french fries by the heap!
Truth is I'm a fat guy
Who really likes to eat!
Traveler Tim
L B Oct 2016
“Disaster Dan” skids into the Center's
Game Room
War Room
Control Room

Fueled by a red T-shirt
proclaiming “Vince the Pizza Prince”
He flips out his cellular...

“IT ISN'T UP TO ME!"
(Where does he get all those broken remotes?)
...flips open his cell
and shouts commands

“TURN THE POWER ON!"

“YA HEARD ME!" (He is totally in control)

“Fsssss    Fssssss   Fsssssss
THE PIPES ARE ABOUT TO BLOW!”

Drives his cruiser around the pool table
Pulls alongside
Fixes me point-blank and cockeyed

“GET THESE KIDS OUTA THE BUILDING!
THERE'S A BOMB ABOUT TA GO OFF!”

An eight-year-old spins iz finger round iz ear
and points a giggle

Dan--
the kind of guy whose life peaked
at Mount Saint Helen
Does a warlock for Halloween
Carries a portable showcase of horror
prized possessions in a dishpan
He explains his treasures

“That is NOT
a plastic scorpion!”

Offended by my ignorance
shoves it in my eyes

“THIS IS A PREDATOR ALIEN, STUPID!"
“CALIFORNIA WILL NOT COME BACK!"

Dan sorta likes me
We talk horror flicks
He forbids the serious of me

"CALIFORNIA WILL FALL OFF INTO THE OCEAN!”
he hisses in a spray of spit
Walks way, laughing, delighted!
Shaking iz head

Then back in my face again (for emphasis)

“DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"
(He is dead serious)
"THE GUY THAT CAUSED THAT HURRICANE
WAS PAUL MCCARTNEY!"

His counselor fills in my blank
“Dan likes the Beatles
That's the only thing he likes
that isn't heinous”
I worked for a year and a half at a Boys and Girls Club.  Twice a week some local group homes would bring their residents in for some fun.  Believe me, "Disaster Dan" was a real guy.  

This was a few years ago when most cells were flip phones.
For readers not from America, Mount Saint Helen is one of our most deadly and active volcanoes. Erupted during the '80s.
w y n n e Oct 2016
17
if it ever gets too hard, i want you to cry. cry so hard that your tears will form seas. cry so hard that your wails will echo throughout the mountains. cry, not because you want to be heard but because you want to hear yourself. stop only when you feel empty enough. empty enough that when you look at the mirror, you no longer recognize the face blankly staring back at you. then wipe away the tears, tell yourself, "ang panget mo umiyak gago ka, di bagay sayo" then smile and flips hair
okayindigo May 2014
On the floor of the river styx, frogs burrowing peer over muck duvets to watch me press like a violet between the cookbook pages of the water and the land. I went overboard-

I am addicted to the darkness between worlds.

Somewhere above me, I see the moon. She doesn’t try to warn me, she doesn’t bother reminding me that I can’t breathe. Heavy currents like snakes blur her face into fractured crystal tears that wash me over with sweet exasperation.

Sedated by the salt toward the other side, where the ferryman flips my coin and hums a tune without words about all rivers rushing toward the sea.

He doesn’t ask me why I chose this route, just grins a toothless grin
And winks
And tosses my coin into the water
without

So much

As a wish.
DT Brunner Apr 15
Gazing at me from across the room
You are my fantasy
You are my sin

Sending a drink over my way
You break the ice
I happily accept

Moving toward me slowly
You catch my attention
And hypnotize me

We let our minds run wild
All I can do is smile
And then look away

You longingly shake my hand
A sly smile on your lips
My stomach flips again

You order another round of drinks
My heart is beating so fast
I’m trying to listen

Want to help fulfill all of my dreams
Do what you want with me
My dearest husband
Sebastian Macias Oct 2018
Ah, don't look at me like that
There's a simple way inside of me
The dark clouds control themselves
So just give me the books
Let the art clean the air
Pour me that stiff whiskey
She flips through the records
"Strange Fruit" please, if you find it
Leaning back in my chair
As my sons 65' mustang
Roars up our drive way
Andrew Aug 2017
Every night I die in an airplane
Beads of sweat fall like rain
Every night I die in a plane crash
I wake up feeling like plain trash
Because every night my plane dives into the ocean
I can't believe the virtual reality of the motion
All my friends and family are there
I watch them drown
Leaving me marooned at sea
The river Styx of my dreams
I wake up marooned at bed
Swimming in a sea of sweat
None of my friends and family are there
And my adrenaline nightmares keep me scared
Because if I fall asleep
It's a nosedive I reap

Every night I die in an airplane
Why is this image so ingrained?
Every night I die in a plane crash
Pressure crushes me to plain ash
Because every night my plane flies into a mountain
The passenger's blood fills my eyes like fountains
All my friends and family are there
I watch them burn
Leaving me stranded in the hills of hell
Until I understand the pills too well
I wake up stranded in bed
Buried in an avalanche of sweat
None of my friends and family are there
And my reality has begun to tear
When I keep dying in my dreams
My mentality rips at the seams

Every night I die in an airplane
Why must my mind be so untame?
Every night I die in a plane crash
And my life becomes a plain flash
Because every night my plane flips upside down
As my useless body is tossed round and round
All my friends and family are there
I watch them get mangled
Leaving me to die at high speeds
With corpses that profusely bleed
I wake up dying in bed
Flipped face down in a pool of sweat
None of my friends and family are there
I begin to wonder if they even care
Because I watch them die every night
It makes me love them more
Because I watch them die every night
My life becomes a chore
But there's nothing for death to reclaim
When I'd just cross over to another plane
King Panda Apr 2018
I still skip stones
across your ocean—your foaming white
cut from the butterfly vine
flips the beached fish
into the definition of liveliness
takes to the sun—a pearled pantina of ocean rain
connecting my nose and mouth
into the rainbow vision
of your thin lips mending the
the maimed crab’s claw

this is how I will always think of you
my wishing well babe
neck-deep in sand
the butterfly vine entering your mouth
pulling your tongue to say
those three words aloud
finally, like you mean it
like I want it, the ocean tide
bathing my ankles
2sided2 Nov 2013
Let me tell you                                        /Let me tell you
Love                                                         ­ /Heartbreak
Makes for good poems                          /Makes for good poems
I'll sit and write                                      /I'll sit and write
About your smile                                  /About my pain
The way you touch me                         /The way i wake up
And my stomach flips                          /In the middle of the night
As i bite my lip                                     /Crying your name
Anticipating your kiss                         /My heart violently convulsing
The way your fingers                           /For you
Intertwine perfectly                             /The way my stomach is full
With mine                            /Even though i haven't ate in days
How the most comfortable                 /How i find a way
Place to lay my head                           /To make every little thing
Is on your shoulder                             /Remind me of you
Because you,                                         /Because you,
You are home                                        /You were home
Keeping me safe                                   /Now, home is no longer
But there's only so much                     /But there's only so much
I can write                                              / I can write
About how beautiful                            /About how losing you
You makes me feel                                /Made me feel
FrankieM Jan 2018
21
After weeks spent parading around, letting everybody and their mother know the day is near, we are finally here. It’s the night of your 21st birthday. 3 shots, 2 beers, and a joint or four later, and I’m feeling pretty alright.
Your mother brings out your baby book, the entirety of your childhood life simplified into pictures and momentous small enough not to cause the pages to crease, meticulously placed between two hard covers.
She flips through the album, licking her fingertips between every other page and reading aloud the entries with the most significance to her. Suddenly she stops and points to a date.
January 19, 1997. The first time you smiled.
I look over at you, and you smile back at me. A smile so radiant, there’s no need to explain the significance.
Mohamed Nasir Nov 2017
A butterfly winks at a rose
Attracted by her perfumes
Tweaks fine filament nose
Lady likes me, he assumes
Her flaming pink petal lips
Enticing him to land a kiss
Hovers wings flickers flips
Lips, closer, closer to meet
He retracts, no, maybe not
Sorry love he couldn't do it
Fooled em all the time a lot
Go fly you flirtatious tweet
The laugh and the smile
Just a disguise.
There's nobody there
Inside those eyes.
A two-minute steak
Done on one side,
He flips me over,
Spreads me wide.
The charm long gone
I'm a tethered goat,
And he's now the wolf
With his hand round my throat.
Nat Lipstadt Jul 2016
<>

Every summer, I relearn a new language.
Every winter, it departs for warmer climes,
Its charms and naked arms,
Its own alphabet,
Clean forget.

Multi-lingual in the summer's peculiar
One language, one aleph bet,
With a mega-millions of dialects,
Know them all, cold,
know them all, hot.

I speak Woman.

Summer is soft, shapely, sweet,
Clean, bare, lush in a sparse way,
And Woman is spoken thusly.

There are no harsh sounds,
Guttural exclamations, nein!

I speak Woman.

There is no **** in the summer.
**** being an **** word.  
It cannot exist in an atmosphere of
Sun, greenery, sand, carefree days,
vacations, no school, no ways
Is there ugliness in any woman of the summer?

You could take this writ many places.
Most of them wrong,
So sputtering sexist or other labeling words,
Makes you **** and wrong.

Could not give a good *******,
In the summer of 2013,
There should be no ****, no prejudice.

In any summer,,
There should be no ****, no prejudice at all.

Long past my primal,
I still speak Woman
With almost perfect fluency,
Au naturel,
Naturellement, à la française.

Gym clothes, denim short shorts, yoga pants gone mad,
A-line skirts swishing in the breeze,
High, god, so high the heels,
Flats clip clopping, flips flip flopping,
Stilettos making love craters,
All over my heart, like a surgeon doing good work.

It is the bare arms and the fluorescent, mint stripe hints of
Summer Cleavage, the short skirts,
Body hugging one piece fabrics,
stretching from here to down there
That do not hint.

The shoulder strap of the underthings,
Asking, commanding me to
Wonder where these paths lead...

Even the light shoulder wrap,
Casual over bare shoulders slung,
A late night elegance that mocks me,
Like gift wrapping over a
Smile demure, a teasing blindfold...

All these say:

Write us poetry in our very own tongue of
Woman.

Will oblige.

I curve with curve of the *****,
Invert geometry of the S arc of the waist,
Mystifying, how it is the designed place
For my hands to grasp, never failing...never letting me fall

The crayola musical colors of flesh variations,
Boggle the senses...
How can
Tan and pale,
Dark and Light
Have so many
Symphonic variations?

Adagio, slow and leisurely, a pas de deux
For two eyes, following ******* by eyes sparkling,
Timpani crashing heart and thunderous pulse quickening,
Violin heart crying out, joyous wailing need and desire sparking.

Just as Byron wrote:

"Music arose with its voluptuous swell,"

Yeah, just swell,
a voluptuous sea swell.

Well,
Enough.

My eloquence is a poor instrument to portray my
Fluency.

Early May man glorious loves life,
Late July, sadder man,
Knowing  the summer foliage colors will soon, fall-fade,
Come August, my vocabulary, already diminishing.

But
Never forget
how to say in the language of Woman, this:

Without you,
I am nothing,
With you,
I am more than everything.


Tho I can no longer say it well,
It is is still true and
Beyond belief.

My one true language of love
In a world gone mad.


August 2013 ~ July 2016 - May 2017
First posted here on August 22, 2013
Edited July, 2016, May 2017
Venus in Scorpio Oct 2018
She’s never there when you need her
You’ll fall asleep and dream of
Your lips on her sweet curves
You need a different life
Sacrifice the time it took
To make her look your way
What is there to say when your breath gets taken away
And you see her face when you’re up at night
Dream of holding her tight
But that’s right
You’re out of sight
out of her mind
And she’s infused in mine
All this time
I’ve been without a home
Someone I know
Searching for a place of my own
I live in tornado country so I’m always on the move
My shoes have holes in them
My feet are bruised
And everyone is cruising by
What is there to do I sigh
Try something new I might
Give up on the system
There’s plenty of problems with playing the victim
But I’m not in control
Humility’s taken me with him
Let me go I try to convince
Along with my pride
But he slaughtered her before I could try
I wonder if she wonders why
I’ve been silent rhyming in my phone
I want to hold her hand, her body and I can’t
deprived of romance
Is there any chance what I want just isn’t there
And all I care is to make myself crazy the way she flips her hair
Or her lips how they’re just begging me to kiss
I wish she would give in
Give me a reason to lean in
But she plays this awful game
Doesn’t look at me the same she does anyone else
How would I know she’ll hardly show me her real self
And all I can help is to turn away
Plug my ears with headphones so I can’t hear her name
In an effort to stay sane
I pretend to disdain her
And It helps the pain temporarily
BrooklynMae Jan 18
My life is a constant roller coaster
But it is anything but constant

Always taking the most unpredictable and sharp turns
Changing course and paths on a whim

The vacillation of heart racing and stomach twisting
Always keeps me on my toes

Yet I enjoy the ride while I can
I yearn for the drops, and the flips and the flops

But more than anything I hope for the stop
For the day when I can get off

When my life has found its rhythm
And I have found my rhyme
And you are finally mine
Marigolds Fever Sep 2018
Marigold’s fever
Heavy heart griever
Saunters in the warm breeze
With an airy sundress tease
Soft and sturdy grassy patches
Where she matches
Rows of orange and yellow stashes
Named for the steady flower
With its strong stem tower
That humid air
Quite the flare for the flowers and her hair
She sits with her mind debates
Love and flowers she waits
Even on cloudy days
Without a phase
She sits there everyday
Pondering thoughts of flower devotion from mankind
Perhaps she has given up hope
There she is not known to be a good find
Her quiet place of solitude
Has left her not to be pursued
A day has come that’s too steamy
Left her not to be able to be dreamy
Quite the wind
Has taken her pink hat for a spin
She runs to retrieve as it flips
There she falls and trips
She hears a voice
That sounds like her choice
She looks up
Sees a man holding a pup
What has caught her eye that’s much too bright
She holds her hand up high in fright
There his hand meets hers
with marigolds held in golden light
Nyx Aug 2018
On the pole
I dance
Wild and free
Doing flips
And tricks
For all to see

On the pole
I forget
The harsh reality
Embraced in music
I can truly be
Carefree

On the pole
I can pretend
To be anybody at all
Elegantly entwined
Both body and soul
This Persona of mine
Who's not afraid to fall

On the pole
I dance
My wildest dreams
Feeling the lyrics
Of a song
Synching my Heart
To each beat

On the pole
I Dance
Within a room
Filled by stars
Gleaming with light
Portraying the beauty
Of the night

On the Ground
I land
Perfectly safe and sound
No applause but silence
Littered all around
Looking into the mirror
I'm standing there proud
There's nobody but me
Outterly spellbound

On the pole

#
I've started pole dancing just for fun
There's a beautiful room thats glowing with fairy Lights!
Anyway I just feel so happy and free dancing now
So I decided to write bout it
Hi
Hi
I say
Like I deserve all the attention the world has to give

What'd you do today?
I reply
Like there's a grand scheme that's hidden behind locked doors

Oh nice, what for?
Oh what?
No one wants to talk to you?
******* for saying that to me
To me...
Me...

Narcissistic hero
And his friend
The antagonist
Crossed paths in the chat window today

Friends are more like enemies
Because I keep them close
It's not right, it's not right
Always making friends of my foes

It's not right, it's not right
And they're right to be upset
At the narcissistic hero
Whose story isn't over yet

And his friend the antagonist
Postured neatly, types away
All their problems and what
Does the narcissist say?

******* for friendship
And ******* for my problems
I'm sorry I snapped
Now what's YOUR problem

And it flips over
And I'm back again

Hi
I say
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