"godiva" poems
Stasis in darkness.
Then the substanceless blue
Pour of tor and distances.
God's lioness,
How one we grow,
Pivot of heels and knees! -- The furrow
Splits and passes, sister to
The brown arc
Of the neck I cannot catch,
Nigger-eye
Berries cast dark
Hooks ----
Black sweet blood mouthfuls,
Shadows.
Something else
Hauls me through air ----
Thighs, hair;
Flakes from my heels.
White
Godiva, I unpeel ----
Dead hands, dead stringencies.
And now I
Foam to wheat, a glitter of seas.
The child's cry
Melts in the wall.
And I
Am the arrow,
The dew that flies,
Suicidal, at one with the drive
Into the red
Eye, the cauldron of morning.
16.6k
Pomegranate frozen yogurt
and a metal chair
outside alderwood mall
alone
wonderful combination-
in midsummer,
not in mid-autumn
But-
watching frozen people walk by
to smooth jazz
(coming from one of these stores-
Godiva? Panera bread?)
under cold blue skies
frozen sunlight
and the memory
of their own breath's fleeing warmth-
is relaxing
©Brandon Webb
2012
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 2:41 PM UTC
Roar Bean Got
Chosen
Sipping on taste
never forgotten
So miraculous power
rising.
Been told so
Boldly,
her uniqueness
Only it's mode of
attachment
Sips up on you like a
Goddess
in fragments
Her spell of the blend,
Coffee lips he was sold
kissed her hand
Mystical bow
Thought's love-arrowed
Through "Hearts" Wowed
All her poem's
Quick thinking
The (Quickie) hour?
Coffee lips ******* the
tower money showered
Home-body
Coffee__steamy
he raided my book
Crystal ball showed me,
"Everyone"
Oh! my he dated
(Holy-Coffee)
My Ego got inflated
Digging gold dreamily
Flower Lily mated and
seeded
Please "Lips" dream on
Opening up the invitation
Coffee? Me or You
Masquerade flower's brocade
Spellbound red poppy I fooled you
Coffee says cheesecake
Mystical play awake
Chosen One Bean
Clean Godly-scent
Cat nine rumor years.
coffee live's pretend
Million in one tear's
gallivant super stirred
Small World Cafe
Big University Princeton NJ.
Mister Mystical laptop taking
a sip New Jersey
The kaleidoscope Blueberry
Go Girl Godiva-raspberry
Coffee lip me
Not over my lip's
He takes another sip
Carmello, He's the
good fellow
Italian mob cappuccino
Leave the Cannoli
Take the gun movie set
"Tarantino"
Here's his handle I'm his
Secret Gun-it lips
I told you
my secret Streaming
play scout
The smell of his aura cup
In his eye's only James
No games just coffee?
Bonds
What about me?
Her chosen bean
Luna blue blueberry
His sugar flight
"Shimmering Chandeliers"
Hello musketeer's fight
Mystical Coffee well suited
BMW car's
Wedding Bellringer
We are destined to star is born
Judy my Mom the singer.
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 9:44 AM UTC
Going left a smile
green* bluesy* drift___
Getting out of debt
The heartedly so flowery
rosy ring around
Gifted box
Valentine Rosy
I box heads over
puppy tails
cozy firey
Love diary doing the
Cutesy
Bow Wow parade
Those red hot lips
cascades
she's... the... lie...
The hue (Anchor- Blue)
Gotcha "Eyes Baby blue
Clue"
To cross my red heart
And hope not to die
The Lady's
finger (Godiva)
I-spy finger*
Heartless Diva
The fork of the road
Lies of the
dead ringer
He points his finger
Face to two face
facelift?
Boom-Boom___
a car crash just a dash
Her beats and hearts
What a crush to her
___left
Tell me sweet lies
I box gift
Oh! Yes you're___ right
Like the scoundrel
The damsel in distress
sweet morsel
I sir box like spots spread
Like the (Chickenpox)
Hearing lies tons of
squirrels
Like Botox Plastic
Rascals
I-box ties
Hallmark, I love you lies
Superman Clark
Outfoxed the ballpark
Little lies blue
big shark
Smartphone I Sir bark
Red Valentine love walk
People are the luckiest
I- wish
Close your eyes sweet lies
Sweet I-Box in Trio
CEO Watching "TV FIO"
Podcast little lies turn
into big lies
Ballot Political list
Romantic cutout card lies
Tell me, Little Lies he trips
Electric lips music chair
Open eyes full shut lips
Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 8:35 AM UTC
How does it feel?
To be a girl,
And to bleed,
Whenever we create
Something beautiful.
The dunce cap
Fills the void;
Where the crown should be.
Life grew
And fed, from these *******
Now ripped apart,
Pieces of shame.
Judas’s Cradle,
Destroyed our flesh.
Left us humiliated,
Like Lady Godiva
Hours of ******
From impalement
In spite of Eve
Whom bit the apple.
Hot irons,
Through vitality’s tunnel
To fallow the holy book,
The Malleus Maleficarum.
Confession induced stoning
Drowning, burning
Just to be whipped like animals
For social bonding.
The battles of power
With the entertainment of ****
Still two Hundred years of
Forced sterilization.
A pear of anguish,
For the miscarriages
A coffin,
For the son.
Who can be civil?
When survival
Even today,
Is about exploitation.
A dowry for obstetric fistula,
In Pakistan.
Under the union of god’s will,
Of course.
The ****** test
Out lives the Bison,
Only still being bred
For the hunt
Mutilation for those,
In Southern Sahara.
Huge abscesses,
To cover the curse.
The breaking wheel
Apr 2, 2012
Apr 2, 2012 at 9:21 PM UTC
the vastness of an empty soul
demystifies the Grand Canyon
and shrinks the universe
to microscopic molecules
barely able to manipulate energy
matter that doesn’t matter
madder than a hare in March
balance skewed
undue pressure
seasonal disfunction disorder
ordering medication
naturalization
seeking citizenship
in an isolation township
serving only self-pity
to the self-destructive –
squatting, gargoyle
surveyor on the job
soaking in the loathing
basking in the glow
caused by the discontent of others
opioid android locked in the void
unemployed
laughing at misery
in mercy centers
meticulously mimicking the miscreants
impersonating pain
seeking to blend –
ostracized miser in designer jeans
obscene in drag queen regalia
“whiskers from under his pancake make-up”
wake-up Godiva, locate the paraphernalia
mammalian musculature
hide the heart of a snake
as she slithers across the floor
searching for the perfect surfactant
….her scaly skin itches, uncomfortably
tearing my lip skin
in the din
of her poorly lit closet –
together in terror, the admission seems worth the cost
lost in the sweet melody
of sobbing children
and clattering dishes
shattered visions
misgivings
estrangement entangled with commitment
obligations
oblivion and orange peals
appealing to a higher power
unanswered questions hover inconsequential
adding to the ozone depletion
and altered climate
owning blame
for all the world and her problems
I sit with shoulders slumped –
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 12:23 PM UTC
Oh, Dove Chocolate how you mock me
as I devour you piece by piece
Each wrapper with sayings of loves infinite bliss
Such as,
"Love is a flower, friendship, and a sheltering tree."
And it is true, at most times, I believe this may be
However he decided to text me
and suddenly I am consumed with passion
Loves little evil friend
Forgetting he is a Hershey's bar
and I am Godiva.
But sometimes this is hard for my mind to remember
and then I go on rampage
Like a chicken without a head
and all I see is him smiling and trying
Forgetting all the empty years and tears
Without listening to what is deep inside me
I throw all care to the wind
Leading me once more to try again
To make something work that didn't work before
For when lust consumes love's compassion
I am often led to mistake true love's flower for just a thorn
Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 11:04 AM UTC
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
and that of the hurricane.
Tumult whispered white,
both Aeolian and corporeal,
strummed on strings of solemnity;
the ugly undertaker of buried roses
labeled as wary victims of feel-good graverobbers.
All bled emotions are this.
The Louvre's flashbulbed flecks;
the notes woven within coke lines of symphony;
fingerpainted twig-men crafted by bright-eyed smilers;
this juxtaposed disgrace.
All Beau Sancy in the roughest granite jewelry box
with graffiti scribbled laughing like urban Sanskrit .
"I am become death" dripped in blood through the keyhole
so it now mimics a cherry popped in microwaves
unlocking discomfort, yes,
and crimsoning the cocoon of the diamond.
Peep, Tom, at the glittering Godiva within
and watch her grow in the sacrifice of poetry,
for only in the presence of forsaking and death
and anguish and discomfort
and pain
can she grow to break the eggshell walls.
Tears cut canals in Time's beard
because he consigned the memory of the shattered horrendousness
to oblivion
instead of honoring their homage
and paying respect by dropping tulips and gunships
into their graves at noon's meridian.
Opal eyed reader,
you do not understand.
My eggshells conceal themselves
within individual hells
of purple prose,
more of a lavender in my eyes.
But beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 11:47 PM UTC
I watched as she was cast out of a bolt from the blue.
A smile on her lips so beautifully askew.
As her feet touched the earth she danced into the light.
Like a drifter in the shadows dashing through the night.
Her eyes can make you smile hips will make you shake.
She is dawn's wishful goddess brought to earth for heaven's sake.
Naked as Godiva through my mind she cut like pain.
Tearing into the warm summer night bold with brazen fangs.
Caught and cast a sail like a ship upon the sea.
She swam in the moonlight sweetly. while the night did eagerly recede.
Her beauty warms the sunshine filtered through the leaves of trees.
That shade her eyes that have seen infinite eternity.
Nov 1, 2020
Nov 1, 2020 at 7:21 AM UTC
Her Horse didn’t canter in Canterbury
Her braided hair was long and Brown.
She galloped uncovered in Coventry
so that taxes would drop like her gown.
Hot to trot without makeup or Jewelry
Hair undone, long tresses hang down.
A ****** named Tom was observing her
riding through town sans a gown.
A woman of substance and Charity-
Not given to horsing around.-
Her legend comes down from antiquity
That’s how seldom those taxes go down.
Dec 30, 2011
Dec 30, 2011 at 9:45 PM UTC
Sweet pneumonia...sitting on my chest
Stealing away
All my much needed rest
Defined fever, a cough with blood-tinged phlegm
Straight liquor...
No sugar on the rim
Intoxicating
Nauseating
I can’t get enough
Delicate at times, at other times rather rough
Sensual
So ******* ALIVE inside my skin
your eyes lighting up as I slowly let you in
So god **** far, you have to be joking
the need so real I swear I'm choking
A darkness, a lightness you try to keep cloaked
You spit poetry, that spits and spits and leaves me soaked
A drug induced edgy world wrapped up in rhyme and wit
Like Lady Godiva, I'm eagerly stampeding towards your spit
Your way with words, the deep intense crawling
The distance not enough to stop the falling
But this heart has little lightness, no sense of humor
Curse this overgrown malevolent tumor
Your poems, at last slaying my long held fears
Your voice at last landing in my ears
Find out further what I'm all about
Then dance all over my self-doubt
I can only imagine you’re an excellent dancer
Alas I can only imagine.
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 9:32 PM UTC
Your tenderness spread from the flesh of bitter fruit;
it razed the ground it was born of.
It is the beating of a wardrum and the shadow of death.
And I found myself at the end of a rope
without the aid of drink or dope.
In my hand I held a note:
A confession without a sound
brought me to my knees.
When the day is too hot for coffee
you find the fog wont lift without it.
I am there, groping at the Thames
Without your hand there to guide me.
Her fingers carved a melody
Wrenching it free from the depths of pain,
and the bottom of white horse hooves
sank beneath the waves.
Whilst Lady Godiva sat by the window
and gazed out a heartfelt glance
at the children in the gutterand clothed her naked villainy
In silk and ermine fur.
And under the weeping tree we left each other letters
that cast aside the discarded uniforms of youth.
Nov 30, 2011
Nov 30, 2011 at 2:31 AM UTC
Burnt pills, The southern germ fasting northern lights and serene akimbo.
some jagged ripples and the placid godiva
our horse, back, but our blind worms !
the stumble of surety, limping through the coffins
of our glib sleep.
we unmirth the Ferris Wheel
but have no one.
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 7:25 AM UTC
Dear diary:
Land sakes! Leofric cannot believe I carried through with it. But indeed, today I rode naked along the sparse, meager streets of ye old Coventry.
And whilst my long hair, let down for the occasion, did provide me a jot of modesty; alas! a strong breeze I am most certain granted uncivil eyes to plainly see my top half is much ado about nothing.
Nonetheless, an even more discomfiting fear shall be if some peeping tom espied his fair countess to be no natural blonde at all; just a fare-thee-well lemon juicing, miracle bra wearing charlatan.
On the plus side, I did achieve quite a lovely, even, 'no-lines' tan!
Jul 2, 2020
Jul 2, 2020 at 2:33 PM UTC
Winter sugar falls on my tongue,
White chocolate flecks in the Godiva night.
But I only eat January snowflakes
Because they’re the ripest in the dead
Of winter, when the temperature is just above oblivion.
The frosting you make when you breathe
Disappears inches from my face
And if I open my lips a little bit
It’s bittersweet...
Like the darkness around us.
If you’re not a good little boy this year
Your candy coated shell will crack
Because it’s just too cold to hold our own.
We are like the chocolate chip cookies
Placed on the plastic Santa Clause plate
By the children, who wait for this all year.
They scribble their wishes onto paper
With a cherry-flavored crayon.
Its waxy red slaps me in the face
Because I know (and it breaks my heart).
And although you hold my hand
Much like the dough holds the morsels
We can never really be together,
Because the chocolate never really melts enough.
Dec 22, 2012
Dec 22, 2012 at 12:52 AM UTC
It’s the motif of my life to dream things that other don’t dream,
So while I was dreaming of you, you weren’t dreaming of me,
And I walked through a hazy field, until the cool moon broke the horizon,
And the glorious clouds began to swell and bellow until they sang,
That as you spoke those words of yours were soothing sweet rain.
I let the drops fall to parade about my mind,
They washed my weariness and spoke of the refined,
But rain may not always be tame, and so joyous,
Too much can be alarming and ominous,
The nascent of floods that drown air in lungs
Or causes the sprout of a little seed I buried deep,
From a past that I don’t want to repeat.
So that as I lingered through these rain drops
In this large outstretched field; the seed’s buds vegetated
Into glorious trees stretching out, so at their sight my foot stops;
And clustering their branches they yielded a lustrous fruit,
The mere sight quivered my tongue in desire to make them sweat their juice,
But though it may be glorious such fruit has potential to offend;
I’d eaten it before; though scrumptious, with its effects
Now I feared to taste it once more,
Yet it now grew before me yet again.
My heart’s beats rang an alarm bell as I swallowed my inducing saliva,
That quickly I began to pluck them from where they grew,
So all were hastily pulled, as though their sight would be as eyeing Godiva,
And behind my back (to cease their being at my front) I threw,
Turning to leave -- there they all exhibit, elegantly displayed,
All neatly piled before me where they were accidently reaped,
In fear I grabbed them for their destruction and I started to run
Searching for a ravine, to dump this tempter that I heaped.
The sweet smell illuminated, I looked at the lovely red orbs,
I pulled one out, and rain drops continued to pour,
The more rain that fell, the more I would adore,
The fruit beckoned a bite, a small bit to absorb;
Always the rain continued to pour.
The rain led me on, so I thought it could be,
So I took a bite of the fruit that it made me see,
The taste was all but what I see in a dream’s eye,
For in a dream is all where the glory of such tastes lie.
This revelation struck me hard with that first small bite
The thunder clapped before me with a flashing bright,
I slipped in the mud, all the fruit upon my back rotting
Fell to the ground, splattered, dripping, melting in despair,
I dared to dream of you with that bite right there,
But it’s the motif of my life to dream of things that others don’t dream,
So, when I was dreaming of you, you weren’t dreaming of me.
Feb 22, 2010
Feb 22, 2010 at 6:49 AM UTC
To sail the Seven Seas
And still remain benighted
Is something that concerns me quite.
I'd rather be a vagabond
Delighted
To have in my possession gleeful light
Than drink from bowls of gold
And eat off plates of china...
I'd rather not have heart of cold,
I'd wander bare as Godiva.
The rich, those lucky fools, I pity.
They know not what is right and what is wrong.
Their minds, by gluttony made gritty,
Will never to the side of good belong.
My choice is simple: to fight evil.
My fate is clear: to carry light,
To peaceful harbours fancy ships to steer,
To sleepy babies sweetly say good night.
Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 4:07 AM UTC
the fall
was slow, rough
bitter, red palmed.
And ashes.
glassy eyed, a slough, sweat
wet and washed, the gloom
of gold.
And saliva.
Apollo descended, Godiva
roamed, Eros marched, God grinned
yellow teeth
For all.
These, I heard,
were gifts of the grieving,
forged by the martyrs, stolen
for the saints
And time
has resurrected fools
for halos-- wings too frail
to carry the masses; to settle
for stigmata,
And golden rings
to bind the mind, as if we
had never carried the cross
Of being alive.
Sep 4, 2012
Sep 4, 2012 at 1:01 AM UTC
Whether by your own hand
or assisted by the selfish outlaw
with whom you last shared
your lonely body,
your eyes closed forever
no last thought
other than to end.
It was recklessness
that took you
to dark ***** places
no sweet girl should go
where endless bad actors
hurt and starving like you
had no lines to recite
no script but loneliness.
Your lovely face now torn
your once promising *******
like wounded doves
will never fly
to wise sacred gardens
where nourishment is given
to the orphaned heart.
Yet I have a prayer for you still
that perhaps from a higher place
you will come to understand
the beauty I saw
beneath your vain skin
a tender young girl
whose sweet hands
reached so desperately
to capture just one real love
not knowing I had waited
for you right there
at the edge of your heart
every time before.
Dec 23, 2011
Dec 23, 2011 at 11:05 AM UTC
was watching barbie dolls on seven
and saw you once again
Your neck now wrinkle free
Those legs wrapped around my head
Things I begin to think
Like the twinkle in your eye
That you add to blush and smile
Legs wrapped around again
Like the preacher's daughter said
Little feet near the bed
sixty-three pounds
but, very hard to carry
Watching barbie dolls on channel two
The one that squeaks and squeals
Still beats out a pig
Lady Godiva still looks great
The horry housewife stays in shape
Don't need no horse to ride on out of town
Watching barbie dolls at ten
the times; the changes
Too many blondes again
So many years
So many roads
I like the one
that lived up north
but I won't have a wallet
that size before some time again
Turning the TV back to mantle
I've had all I think that I can handle
The gold dust twins are there again
I wonder will it ever end
This could lead to stronger stuff like the old bottle
Lady Godiva never looked so good
The best provider for the push
She made me love; she understood
I love my barbie girls I watch on my TV
Nov 21, 2016
Nov 21, 2016 at 2:24 PM UTC
Tonight I'm gonna have myself
A real good time
I feel alive and the world
I'll turn it inside out
And floating around in ecstasy
So don't stop me now
Don't stop me
'Cause I'm having a good time
Having a good time
I'm a shooting star
Leaping through the sky
Like a tiger
Defying the laws of gravity
I'm a racing car passing by
Like Lady Godiva
I'm gonna go go go
There's no stopping me
I'm burnin' through the sky
Two hundred degrees
That's why they call me Mr. Fahrenheit
I'm traveling at the speed of light
I wanna make a supersonic man out of you
Don't stop me now
I'm having such a good time
I'm having a ball
Don't stop me now
If you wanna have a good time
Just give me a call
Don't stop me now ('Cause I'm having a good time)
Don't stop me now (Yes I'm havin' a good time)
I don't want to stop at all
Yeah, I'm a rocket ship
On my way to Mars
On a collision course
I am a satellite
I'm out of control
I am a *** machine ready to reload
Like an atom bomb about to explode
I'm burnin' through the sky
Two hundred degrees
That's why they call me Mr. Fahrenheit
I'm traveling at the speed of light
I wanna make a supersonic woman of you
Nov 21, 2016
Nov 21, 2016 at 8:47 PM UTC
get on your knees; this position, supplicative and ****** is one you will come to own over the course of lovers both male and female and religions both Christianity and Islam.
you forgot what it was like, always being different; you were the only nonwhite kid in church for well over a decade, and when you urbanized, finding a new, ethnically homogenous clique to call your own, you thought you were Home.
then he kissed you, and your sexuality fractured into a thousand tiny pieces bearing the cool pressure of his lips against yours and the flavor of Burt's Best Bees Lip Balm and the acrid aftertaste of Godiva Dark Chocolate.
you haven't felt so alone since your kindergarten years, and yet-
You Are Free, for the first time in a long time.
Feb 12, 2014
Feb 12, 2014 at 1:34 PM UTC
I see a brother in every man,
But some men's egos need to be pet,
If sir suits him.
But what is there
More greater a term of endearment,
Besides father,
Than that which I utter
And wholeheartedly, in earnest, offer?
Nov 8, 2023
Nov 8, 2023 at 10:32 PM UTC