"gloopy" poems
you are calling from the kitchen
would I like
strawberry jam on my toast
strawberry jam?
I think
I forgot we had some
in the refrigerator
between the peanut-butter
the almost empty jar
of gloopy marmalade
I shout back yes
I will have jam on my toast
why not
I feel healthy
I am growing a smile
there’s you and there’s life
and it’s only Monday
you know
Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 10:02 AM UTC
the heartbeat rumble
in your ears
is the signal
you’ve been waiting for
a warning
that too much
has piled up
and your head
has gone all Kandinsky
blood lights
blinking like sequins
in the crook of your vision
tangle of duvet
half lolloped on the floor
echo
of a neighbour’s conversation
a gloopy mumble
through the walls
and you’re thinking
of skin the colour of wheat
un-lipsticked lips
a song that hasn’t been written
but the words exist
longing for you to pluck them
like a novel from a shelf
in a second-hand shop
a thunderclap
snaps you back
to the same room
the same face
looking back from the mirror
with its wet blueberry eyes
and you say
you have a story
fashioned from mashed potato
and sticky tape
all it needs is a listener
to kiss a whisper
to your neck
drip syllables
that glow as torches
tell you everything is fine
your listener
as the shower rain
leaves a network of streets
jogging down your cheeks
May 28, 2017
May 28, 2017 at 6:46 PM UTC
Here it is
coming together
slowly and quickly
points being connected
connections being disappointed
disappointments being appointed
appointed proportionally and
disproportionally
click clack
stick it together
vertices criss cross
bricks and feathers
interlacing lines and
concentric circles dance
in and out of time it is a
convergence
a coming together
a going apart
it is silk spun in
every way you can think of
it is spit spat from every mouth you've ever heard
this blob of tip tap gloopy gloop tick tack
criss cross criss cross make it last
make it first
on the bus or in the hearse
in between or outside of
either way it's kind of
all the same and
very different
but look at that
and then it's not
a ghost in the periphery
a shadow in the center
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 12:02 AM UTC
what about food for thought and food for your belly, how about some raspberry jelly, or jelly fish that come from tropical seas, captured by the Japanese and are ten feet in diameter, not the Japanese but the gloopy seas creature .
That are kinda pink or red but taste really good and go with vanilla ice cream but be careful with these gloopy jellied things , they stings, I mean, they sting , so don't bite or chomp or chew but slice them up with a blade made outta a reinforced steel , but they feel pain and memories and all sorts of things, so they are not just things that are dragged from the depths, for us to poke or **** or ridicule on facebook or youtube
how'd you feel if tomorrow we was invaded by raspberry flavoured jellied creatures that came from the fifth and fourth dimension, did I mention that they're here to abduct us, to **** and poke us with weird instruments, but not musical ones but frightful ones, long ones , ones we've never heard of , but they have heard of us the raspberried creatures that is
from the fourth and fifth and possibly sixth dimension but I forgot to mention it's our own fault , our own frugal fault, that they've come in huge ,hovering , harbingered things, that hover above us without any wings, yes without wings and to these gelatinous, gluttonous things we are just things to be dispatched, devoured and digested within one working week, with one ******* gulp we'd go down their sleek gullets or whatever they have
Feb 6, 2013
Feb 6, 2013 at 5:36 PM UTC
just finishing off monday
sarah woke up not groggy
this took practice
time for a coffee
banana granola greek style yogurt
quietly on her phone alone at home
perched on the sofa
a thought strays back to heartbreaks
heaven slips on it’s loafers
on time she quits lipsticks and ties coat
fluffs the hair
smiles
clicks down the stairs
she sounds attractive
tight and a skirt
smart tasteful coat
button’s no broach
appropriate
down the stairs and out the door
outside brain makes it up
all the same mornings
tunnel vision
work
down the street there’s magic
rays of it spot through sodden clouds
searching people
one to one to one, looking for Sarah
both violent and divine
Sarah weaves the street
walking not the fastest
used to like the rasmus
doesn’t think of coffee
maybe what’s for lunch
then the sky oppressed her
vibrating darker than death
shock from eyes of lightning
for a moment buildings glitch
they lag fade and stutter
people stop and blink
they fear, look up for another
sarah feels a cold
heartbroken and lifeless
the world gets lower
slower
time’s flipped in a crisis
screaming colours from their fleeting faces
seep into her jelly legs
then her skin it turned to water
body a puddle
a gloopy goop of eyes and blubber
some hair on some putty
sun on her frogged eyes
one falls down the gutter
everyone chokes on a splutter
it most seldom expected
the day Sarah randomly melted
Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 11:06 AM UTC
Flailing arms in minestrone soup,
grasping ropes in gloopy slop.
Slippery snakes in slippy hands;
bobbing bereft in beefy broth.
Croutons swirl - a death knell eddy
clumping in a bread bricked tomb.
Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 12:42 AM UTC
Oscillating pulse blood
makes perfect puddles
Makes swamps and marshes and wild bayous
Puddles of thick sticky gloopy innards soak red **** carpet
In roadside motels
Where we took turns on a parlytic ***** and he cried the ***** time
You mean the whole time?
Stop daddy stop! Everything makes me uncomfortable.
No it's fine, everything is always fine.
Oct 7, 2011
Oct 7, 2011 at 8:15 PM UTC
Driving for hours.
Nothing but road.
Me, head slumped
on one shoulder,
watching the rain
screech across the window.
You took over
as we crossed into Wisconsin,
the pattern of the steering-wheel
embedded in your palms.
Still got coffee from a café
a hundred miles back -
now like gloopy mud stuck in a cup.
The radio throws out
another Bon Iver track
as the wipers squeak
from side to side.
Both of us tired.
I see your eyelids flicker
between awake and not quite awake.
We stop for gas in Mazomanie.
The engine wheezes to a halt,
I hand you thirty bucks
which empties my wallet.
You stumble from the car
in a sluggish daze.
I try to shake my body alive,
my limbs heavy,
bones cracking.
Phone barely has any juice.
Enough to text home
a be home soon.
As we set off again
you give me a kiss,
a dash of caffeine on your lips.
I pinch my skin to a light red.
This is not in a dream.
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 12:52 PM UTC
Did you sense my emergence, good beak,
A gloopy shell dragging egg slime and sand
to the waiting sea.
With clammy innards, I lumbered
under a morose sun while you
pecked my eyes to nourish
your blood disease.
Adieu, good beak, it was mine to
be momentary.
Jan 20, 2025
Jan 20, 2025 at 11:49 AM UTC
I feel like I’m shrinking
like when you hug me I become smaller and smaller
until your arms become tightly wrapped around your ribs
and I find myself wading through my own tearstorm
I feel like I’m melting
not in a cutesy crush kind of way that you’d hope
like when you can’t kiss properly because you're smiling too hard
but in a gloopy eyeliner kind of way.
I feel like I’m *****
like my hair will never be untangled
and like I’ll never feel as lovely as I did that night
when you ran your hands through my blonde mess
I feel like I’m falling
falling for you all over again and realizing
that the giddy drunk girl who you kissed two years ago
is ****** up now and she
will never be so innocent,
will never be so whole,
will never be her.
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 11:58 PM UTC
*We all looked up to your encrypted pattern
Like a baseball, they fly past our eyes
Right into & through the saturn
Few have cut their strings
And risked it all to chase their dreams
Few have grown their wings
To take pride in the task they achieved
To pleasure on materialistic things
Or to take part in the view of other's agony
From your monster height, they please
You the queen
You fail to find someone to trust
And your downfall undoes it's rust
Drink at all costs, avoid the pain
Shame comes down on you at once
Like a bullet to the brain*
Dec 30, 2016
Dec 30, 2016 at 9:33 PM UTC
I made space for you. Here
just under my collar bone and
between the gloopy lobes of lung.
I cracked open the bony sternum door,
reached in and mucked out the place that
I’ve spent my life filling with hopes and dreams.
When I pulled them out, my
hands came away covered in the
stinking rot of goals unfulfilled; my
wrists burned as the decaying poison of
unmet expectation ate away the flesh there.
I scrubbed the walls of my new empty spot
with the essence of despair and an infusion of apathy tinged
with a hint of resentment. Chemicals so corrosive
that the nerve endings burned
off leaving a sterile, unfeeling space.
I did all that for you.
You died while I was cleaning.
You had gone out, frustrated again
about how I never made time for us to spend
with just each other.
You slammed the door and even as my
hair blew back from my
face with the force of your anger,
I resolved to make a change. I had only just
finished disposing of my toxic waste when a
soft-sorry knock replaced your slam on the door.
At first I saw the gun on his hip, right next to the flashlight
and under the shade of a doughnut-filled muffin top.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Your heart - it’s dead.’ and then
went on to explain something about a bus and a busy
city street. I couldn’t be sure exactly what he said.
My mind was distracted by the glare of the bright, burning
sunset jumping off the badge on his chest
stabbing me in the eye and
the feeling of numb negative space hanging
off the front of my spine.
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 10:30 PM UTC
I sip and wait for the drop of semi-congealed Nescafe to hit my shrunken bag of a stomach.
Cigarettes and caffeine. How typical.
How obvious - is that the right term? - that these have become my survival remedies.
I am weak, sometimes stumble absentmindedly on the pavement, the jagged teeth like slabs catching my feet out.
People glance at my paled face. An echo of before, a walking vision of someone exhausted, ill or plain oblivious to the own destruction of their body.
They think that I am drunk.
I awkwardly regain my pace, feeling that child like shyness creeping back into my demeanour.
Then I run one tired, bacteria ridden finger along my blunt jaw. Ah. It feels good.
Inhibitions forgotten, perseverance in check.
My system turns its volume to mute as I sip more of the gloopy energy.
Hush now, I whisper internally.
Drawl on that stick of cancerous paper. Now every 30 minutes or so it takes its place between my dry, starved lips.
I am often described as quite a quiet, wet person. In this case, my strength is inward. I find tears for rebuke. I inspire concern and questioning but I do not feel their love in these remarks.
I turn the beauty of their words into hatred. I am in control. This is my body.
This is my mind.
This is my soul.
Only I can speak to that spiritual beast that I keep locked away in the caged remains of my skill.
How dare you question my choices I scream!
My strength to 'outdo' them is renewed. The beast grows while I shrink. He feeds on my sense of self pity and self worth. More. More.
I shrink from my own invention. I hide from it. I can only go on so much longer before I cannot face him anymore.
Frontal. Temporal. Back. Whatever lobe you want, he now sinks his contrastingly fleshy claws into them.
This cage has four sides to it; all now useless to me. All now given over to this beast. They reflect into the whirlwind of my conscience. Conflicting. Opposing.
Nature versus man.
Natural versus the mind.
Theres is no key to the lock on my cage.
Recovery. Falter. Healing. Falter. Faith. Rejection.
Back and forth. Back and forth.
What is the point?
My main stream of thought to anyone who questions my diet of caffeine and nicotine, my withering appearance, my paranoia fuelled actions, my distinct inability to accept their concern is;
You liars.
Feb 22, 2014
Feb 22, 2014 at 7:17 AM UTC
me and you stick together
we're like glue
i'm the gloopy stuff
and you're the bottle
Apr 26, 2019
Apr 26, 2019 at 10:02 AM UTC