"gushed" poems
Sticky white cream upon your face,
Gushed out of my pipe at fast pace.
Now open wide for my surprise,
I'll try this time to dodge thine eyes.
My milk is sweet and fairly warm,
Lets hath more fun from dusk till dawn.
Aug 1, 2022
Aug 1, 2022 at 9:11 PM UTC
In the sole purpose of love.
I confused a strawberry for that of a heart.
I didn't at all feel ashamed. Sharing a divine pleasure.
I allowed myself to confess everything my heart felt with this strawberry.
A fruit practical. Knowing all of life's mystery.
Plump in the way it stared.
An everyday conversation turned into something precious.
My hand becoming like a stem.
The strawberry now confusing me for one of it's own.
Sharing the same subtle silence.
Relaxed in the freedom that mistakes can and will occur but something
extraordinary can happen.
Introducing ourselves to a different us.
More tolerable.
Enjoying the gift of each others company.
Sincere in a moment of sensitivity.
Both of our cheeks blushed in red.
Sharing a deep thought that traveled it's way into purpose.
A seed ripe in the way it gushed into deep infatuation.
A mouth in need, the will to quench arising urge.
Communication in purest form.
The vine that ensues nourishment from soil colored hands.
Cleansed in warmth, devoured whole
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 2:49 PM UTC
I wove my own web and netted my prize,
I cold-pressed my words and refined my disguise.
I goggled at life and faced up to that book,
I tumbled and tweeted and baited my hook.
I blipped and I blogged, I bantered and blushed,
I followed and friended, I grovelled and gushed.
I doled out the instant, ten grams at a time,
To fuel my addiction for caffeine and rhyme.
I reshopped my pic, I swiped left, I swiped right,
I pinned and I posted deep into the night.
I gloated and gossiped, I chatted and cheered,
I logged in and logged out without favour or fear.
For is it not fun - this mad media storm?
Viewing and voting from dusk until dawn.
Yet love me or like me, let it never be said,
That despite how it seems, it’s gone to my head.
Dec 22, 2018
Dec 22, 2018 at 6:17 PM UTC
Throughout our childhood, our grandmother would turn to us,
in her yellow-lit kitchen, brandishing a rubber spatula or meat
tenderizer to warn us against falling to temptation. She’d witnessed
too many good people disappear into what she called
a consumption of the soul,
and as my cousins licked sugary batter off their spoons,
no one could have known that one day the candy-coating
would melt from their eyes to see their mother
for what she had done the last six years that now showed in her trembling hands, glossed vision, and a temperament that splashed into anger, flowed into melancholy as easily as she had found herself downing bleary bubbles at the brim of a precipiced fountain.
She was promised her very own message in a bottle, and this keep-sake
manifested in cousin Libby’s dreams, floating down a wine river
that gushed from the slashes in her mother’s wrists. Somehow I knew
these nightmares were born from warm and heady “sleep well”s
mumbled from across the darkest of rooms which held so many glass
ghouls with names and strengths so real, they even scared
my grandmother into silence as she stirred the pecan pie for Easter dinner. She offered to let me lick the spoon clean, but I simply
asked for straight sugar instead.
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 8:40 PM UTC
Don't you worry for me.
I'm alive.
Words pour out of me
like the rivers of thrill
that gushed from deep within me
and rushed away in silent screaming,
in-between the glorious thighs
you missed out on.
Maybe I was only ever there
to prepare you for her.
Maybe I hung by a thread
so you don't hang your head.
Don't you feel sorry for me.
I survived.
With my heart in my hands
at the gates of a shrine
I swore to never forget how your face lit
when you said that I was
your favourite hypocrite.
Jan 10, 2023
Jan 10, 2023 at 6:22 PM UTC
You wonder why my name is spaghetti,
It's sounds funny to you.
Not quite a long story,
But it's all very true.
Our tale begins,
When I was quite young,
Right when spring,
had just sprung.
Living with my aunt,
At the age of two,
She brought me to preschool,
In her liberal Subaru.
My parents left me,
If you were curious.
They went off to help illegal-aliens,
which made me quite furious.
Anyway, when I got to my class,
We did a bunch of useless work,
While the teacher sat fat on her ***
After reading some ****
called Cat in the Hat,
we all went for lunch,
to eat some crap.
All was going well,
In that brick-enclosed hell,
but all went wrong with a single song.
Some ****** turned on,
Some pop music,
We all got mad,
At that stupid *****
I had enough already,
Since my parents had left me,
And I was stuck with a woman,
Who voted for Hillary.
So I got out of my seat,
And walked right to the kid,
Took my lunch out of my bag,
And opened the lid.
Inside held the spaghetti,
That I was planning to eat.
I grasped it in my hand,
And planted my feet.
I grabbed the fag's neck,
shoved the spaghetti down his throat,
And before I knew it,
He started to choke.
Through his espohogus,
very far down,
The blood gushed out of his mouth,
And onto the ground.
The kid's eyes rolled back,
into his head,
until they were white,
I knew he was dead.
Even though it was over,
I continued to go,
And throw his body,
Out the nearest window.
My classmates watched in horror,
as the body fell down,
Into the road,
without making a sound.
Then in the street a dump truck went by,
Running over the body,
And my classmates started to cry.
They will never forget that wonderful day.
"He killed a kid with spaghetti!"
They all started to say.
May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 7:35 AM UTC
The first pair of shoes you wore were black,
velcro straps sat atop your pair of dollies
to make it easier to put them on for the park.
They were meant to be smart, but you laughed
as you wore them against the ground so free
as dad slung the swings, smiling at his child.
Our mum told me I was a creative child:
I didn't like to wear anything black. Red
suited me in how I stood in puddles, free
in indifference to how brown my wellies
became. If I was asked why, I'd shout,
“I'm pretending we're all at the seaside.”
From there we made our way to beaches,
where the wind was crisp and the children
we could see around us acclaimed screams
of emphatic joy at how the sea was so blue
and big. We had to wear pairs of sandals
when we went, but being barefoot felt free.
All that time we had at being young and free
soon went with the summer ending in school,
the arrival of my freshly polished black boots
was identical to almost every other child's-
a lather of paint dripping over in mud yellows
proved who I was with a mother's groan,
and this wasn't the only time she wailed.
As we grew older and wanted to be free,
my sister started to experiment with pink
highlights in her hair as I visited clubs
with fake ID. We were adults with childish
personalities in how I wore my Docs
like a religion for feet, my sibling in high heels
that you could hear in Sunday morning claps.
The arguments broke out: she wanted a child,
mother saying was too young, needed to free
herself from lazy culture and find a workplace.
I'd never seen both their faces so gushed red,
just like the red richness of those wellies
I had worn in the park. I pipe up and say,
“The best freedom is our time as children.”
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 3:09 PM UTC
ring
ring
ring
ring
hello?
ring
ring
ring
ring
hello?
ring
ring
ring
ring
a gunshot was heard,
but not by her,
blood gushed out of her face like a grotesque river,
a bullet hole in the side of her head,
maybe we should put down all the technology...
before someone gets hurt...
Sep 6, 2017
Sep 6, 2017 at 11:22 AM UTC
Misunderstood please understand.
You hear, you think what you thought you would,
You remember what you thought before.
You close that door and think some more.
Remember the color of the emerald words I gave?
Do you remember the crisp noise of connections that they made?
Now do you?
Misunderstood.
You hear me through the speakers of your mind,
Little twists and bends and changes, you crinkle all my story pages.
You still remember what you felt before.
You close the door and feel some more.
Do you remember the scarlet words I gave you?
They gushed out of my torn heart like glistening blood?
NOW DO YOU?
Misunderstood.
All the noise running together in your head,
You try to open your moth to let some escape.
And when they pour out I sit down and take in the color.
Dear I fear that you could never really hear.
Emeralds ran into all the simple blue that’s you to blend into the scarlet.
Connections dissolved, you don’t, you
Misunderstood.
The words I gave are gone.
Your mind mixed hear and changed it there and turned it into brown.
I gave you all the beautiful colors of the rainbow,
But you would not take them for what they where.
You changed them, and held them together until it was all different
Until they where made all made the same.
Misunderstood.
This becomes the color of the truths you push away, and the words you mix around.
You find yourself spiting out this endless dingy brown .
I close the door, your spilling out onto the floor.
Keep what you have made I don’t want it, its yours.
Misunderstood.
Your not misunderstood, miss I’m to tired to stand.
Don’t blame the hand made reluctant to help ,
Your to covered with dirt for my brushing to help.
I know you , I love you , but I cannot make my miss understand.
I know my miss understood so I know that she can.
But she wont. I wonder why.
I have no patience to dote on you precious little feelings,
I’m so tired of the brown. Stop mixing colors, oh miss.
Until you make some changes I will have to leave you
Sitting and spiting on the dingy brown ground.
I love you miss I hope you understand.
Mis I know that you did so Mis I know that you can.
Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 2:43 PM UTC
At birthday parties, we didn’t like to imagine
What the paper donkey felt like
Being knocked around
By our wooden bats
Swinging blindly, alone
Until it bled beautiful colors
Until it gushed sweet things
And the sweet things told our mouths
“Thank you for releasing us.”
If my heart was a piñata, I would give you a blindfold
And hand you a baseball bat
Spin you around three times
And close my eyes
And we’d swing blindly, together
Sep 22, 2011
Sep 22, 2011 at 12:06 PM UTC
The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.
I see the lights of the village
Gleam through the rain and the mist,
And a feeling of sadness comes o’er me
That my soul cannot resist:
A feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain.
Come, read to me some poem,
Some simple and heartfelt lay,
That shall soothe this restless feeling,
And banish the thoughts of day.
Not from the grand old masters,
Not from the bards sublime,
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of Time,
For, like strains of martial music,
Their mighty thoughts suggest
Life’s endless toil and endeavor;
And tonight I long for rest.
Read from some humbler poet,
Whose songs gushed from his heart,
As showers from the clouds of summer,
Or tears from the eyelids start;
Who, through long days of labor,
And nights devoid of ease,
Still heard in his soul the music
Of wonderful melodies.
Such songs have a power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And comes like the benediction
That follows after prayer.
Then read from the treasured volume
The poem of thy choice,
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
The beauty of thy voice.
And the night shall be filled with music,
And the cares, that infest the day,
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.
2.7k
In the intimacy of these moments,
There are some pure relationships,
The angels are reiterating the spiritual song of love,
There is a silence in the land,
The sky is amazed,
There is a radiance up to the skies,
There is a melody in the active and deep surroundings,
There is beauty in all your grace,
There is love in the air,
What kind of love is this?
What kind of dream is this?
What kind of flood of emotions have gushed in?
The days have changed,
The nights have changed,
Conversations have changed,
The mode of life has changed,
In the intimacy of these moments,
There are some pure relationships,
The angels are reiterating the spiritual song of love,
What has time done to us?
It has changed me flesh and skin,
I have found you,
And you have found me,
We have met like two harmonies,
Neither high or low,
In the flames of our passion,
We burn both our souls and bodies,
In the garden of my dreams,
You have brought a beautiful springtime,
The flowers have my colours,
But the fragrance is from you.
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 12:02 PM UTC
I recall her stripping me naked
Then she danced around the bed
Slowly, enticingly disrobing her voluptuous form
Her firm breast bouncing free from her bra
My ******** began to ache
As she slipped her tounge around it's head
Her ******* hard & rubbery adorned
the fleshy mountains I saw
Hands wrapped around each
I stroked & squeezed & suckeled
Her wet crotch sliding down my leg
Left a sticky trail
Her mouth found a throbing shift
And stoked it to it's base
Where there she ****** in my *****
And gently rolled them in her mouth
And around her face
Up the shaft she came again
though this time it slide down
Her throught, warm & wet & exhaled
Again & again she went
I almost surcumed
I pushed her back
And dove between her thighs
My tounge found that sweet spot
between the sticky lips
Lapping up her sweet honey drips
Sliding my tounge from one end to the other
******* on that harden ****
Until she gushed more sticky stuff
Then slowly I plunged as deep as I could
Filling up that sweet pink hole
And there I plunged again & again
Until my cheeks were sore
Slowly I raised myself
Hands upon her thighs
Spreading her lovelyness
As wide as she could split
She reached down & grabed my form
Holding hard she guided it in
Not even a chance to heav forwards
SHE CAME UP KER BAM
As she fell back I drove it home
My ***** smacked her in the ***
Stroking deep & slow at first
There was no holding her back
Bucking & bounching she managed
to turn around so I got her from hehind
She reached under & grabed my *****
Like a lease it was as she pulled me in
Faster & faster we went
Then she pushed me back
Grabed my shaft & began to ****
She said to me very sweetly
I want to drink U all
Jul 23, 2010
Jul 23, 2010 at 4:17 PM UTC
A fall over rock,
Metal answering to water,
Is the seal of this spot;
A land trodden by music
And the tune forgot.
Of a region savage,
The territory that was broken,
Silver gushed free;
And earth holy, earth meek shall receive it
In humility.
This, not dwelt in, this haunted,
The country of the proud,
Is curdling to stone,
And careless of the feet of the waters
As they glance from it down.
2.2k
You see, I know this guy,
with bright and gentle eyes—
sunflowers against blue skies . . .
A true angel in disguise.
He’s known since before he could fly
that he wasn’t like the other guys,
or the him in their minds, that decoy,
that never dreams of kissing a boy
for the purest joy. . .
No, he’d have to strengthen those wings
not to tangle in the strings
that sting, and cling, and sling,
to save his prince—
his king.
A feathered, armored knight,
he soars with grace and might.
In a weary world of fright,
he’d invite any height –
loyal beyond first light.
And you see, there I was, drowned in muddy water,
with gills choked on death’s slobber,
****** by the wave’s merciless slaughter
of hope, that bled and foamed atop the marauder,
and lost like the sea king’s youngest daughter,
I, a merman bobbed below the knight’s shadow.
He saw the faintest blush
of my lost soul and rushed
to grace me from my grave, flushed
and bathed me amid the rainbows in the waterfall, hushed
my toxic tears, that cursed and gushed,
and pecked my lips, as sweetly as a thrush.
His feathers fluffed, my scales standing on edge.
I nested in the angel’s white down hedge
till my heart and soul was nursed to fledge.
Our skin taught with tingly warm bumps, an intimate pledge.
I a he fell in love with he a him, and love became our kedge.
So you see, while my worries ebb and flow like the moon’s tide,
bringing questions of where a bird and fish can reside,
I trust in him I can confide, never to hide, but cast my fears aside.
We’ve already broken the surface where the air and water collide,
we need not the world far and wide,
we need only to carry each other inside
our arms, and together glide,
feathers and scales side by side.
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
While the world thinks she's back on track,
She spends her mornings behind curtains drawn,
Noons at the cafe where they used to go,
Sleepless nights finding out where to start.
She drew her pen and spelled her thoughts.
Empty words, clingy clichés, broken oaths were new metaphors.
Sentences gushed one after the other like devastating waves of a stormy weather.
Tired eyes brimming, her heart ebbing with hope.
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 10:13 AM UTC
Last night I heard your voice, mother,
The words you sang to me
When I, a little barefoot boy,
Knelt down against your knee.
And tears gushed from my heart, mother,
And passed beyond its wall,
But though the fountain reached my throat
The drops refused to fall.
'Tis ten years since you died, mother,
Just ten dark years of pain,
And oh, I only wish that I
Could weep just once again.
2.2k
**** I'm so scared
and I'm so in love with you
but I don't have a **** clue
how I'm supposed to trust
that what we have is the thing
gushed about in movies,
and swooned over in novels.
How the hell does anyone decide
that they know with all certainty
and perfect clarity
that that one person
is their one person,
the one meant to be?
I notice little things that irk me,
rub my nerves until they fray
and I wonder, will those
be the things that bring about
the death of us?
Or am I overreacting, overanalyzing
every single moment that passes
because I'm just so ******* scared
of what the future could possibly be.
Because **** am I scared
But **** am I in love with you.
And the biggest torture
of our relationship is,
I don't know which
of those parts of me will win.
Because no matter how much
I am in love with you,
**** am I scared.
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 3:42 AM UTC
At night, she trembled in pleasure
He's deeper into the woods
Without any word
Spring gushed
3months after
Her belly grew
The creature inside her
was escaped by an entity
No one knew who
No one knew what
Her tummy flattened
He went deep into the woods
Again to give life
Spring gushes
3months after
Her belly grew
The creature inside her
was escaped by an entity
Again
He never got tired going into the woods
To give life again and again
A life he eats
To gain power.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 8:49 AM UTC
•
The devils situate me in the dungeon,
In this pitch-dark place,
Chains locked to my hands and feet,
I clamor at the top of my lungs,
But only my voice echoed,
And penetrated deep, deep within my soul,
A voice with dejection,
Tears gushed out from my eyes,
All swollen for hours and hours of crying,
My hopes almost diminish,
My prayers weaken,
This little faith lifted my chin up,
But my body is so worn out i can't hold it any longer,
Oh God please help me,
Please save me from here,
Then suddenly,
I passed out,
After awhile i feel two hands holding my face,
I opened my eyes,
But the light is too bright,
I can't see anything,
I close my eyes and listened to the wonderful voice talking marvelously to me,
It's a man's voice!
I open my eyes again and i see a man,
With all white clothes,
And a huge wings behind his back,
I was dumbfounded,
An angel!
Exhiliration enfold me,
And I started weeping silently,
My God answered me! He answered me!
He is my angel,
I slapped my face with my two hands,
I might be dreaming,
But no i am not,
This is totally true!
He stand me up,
I stand up with no troubles,
I was astounded,
No more chains, no more chains !!
I am free, i am free!
In my happiness i hugged him.
One second i was hugging an angel,
Another second I am hugging a man.
Oh, Wow!
That man is him,
The man who did all for me,
The man who saved me from my darkest place,
He took me out of that ghastly place,
And now I am in paradise with him,
He makes me happy all the time,
All the time,
He is always there for me,
Whether I am happy, sad or depress,
He is always there,
He inspires me,
He is my angel,
He help me overcome my demons,
He is my light here on earth,
His radiance shines brightly on me,
And I am beyond happy,
He comforts me,
He is my refuge,
I always have this hope to wake up each day 'cause I know, I know i am gonna see him,
He is my happiness,
My best friend,
The one I can always lean on to,
The one I can always trust,
His smiles are my daily dosage,
His laughs, his jokes are my daily medication.
His love is my supplication,
He is my all, my all,
I learn to extend my patience,
I learn how to be selfless,
He showed me a geniune love,
A love so recherché,
He guides me to the right tract,
And hold my hand so tight and walk with me,
He protects me from bad,
He is my other half,
My preordained one,
My strong king,
What's the best thing in him is,
He pulls me closer to God,
I can't thank him enough for all he do,
He is so amazing to me,
How can i even deserve this?
God had been so good to me,
I am way so blessed,
I am so blessed,
I am gonna show him my love daily,
I am gonna be by his side always,
I am here waiting for him alone,
I am here to love him always,
I won't leave thee,
For you are preordained for me,
My love, my soulmate,
Ohhh goodness Lord,
I praise you oh Lord for all you do,
I thank you for all you have done for me,
I am so blessed Lord,
I am so blessed!
with love <3
© Earl Jane
♥ E.J.C.S.
Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 8:46 AM UTC
I sent it
At three AM
On one of those nights
Where silence gets violent
And I'm alone in my head.
I told you about the
Tiny pink pills
And how
If I took eight
I would sleep forever.
I gushed that
They were hidden
Under the toothpaste slathered
Countertop
In my bathroom.
I told you I loved you
But that
You weren't enough to stop me anymore.
I did actually consider it.
It was one of those nights.
But at some point,
As I laid on top of my comforter
And shivered under the fan,
I realized that
You weren't going to wake up
And convince me out of it.
I also thought
About how my mom was
A light sleeper.
How the floorboards would sound like
Orchestras
And the cabinet
Would be the symbals
To her.
I fell asleep
Numb,
But naturally numb,
And woke up wondering
What you would say.
You didn't say anything.
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 10:32 PM UTC
*Freezing cold, a strange night of rain and thunder,
it got registred deep in his consciousness,
as a squiggling liquid presence;
an abstract painting, taken in, with layers of meaning,
a deluge, the result of injustices heaped against the female principle.
The rain lashed out, in the flashes of lightning
in between, through the window sills
when the curtains where swept aside
by a subversive wind, painful face
of a frightened girl was visible,
at the window of a highrise building,
shameful secrets kept concealed peeped out
yelling out "HELP"in the shocking words of silence.
That night was difficult for an exile from life like him to endure,
subconscious echoed terror filled cries;
sewer water flowed, towards oblivion,
carrying embryos, not fully formed from terminated pregnancies,
he heared tree toads speaking in strange tongues,
like jilted women seeking vengeance,
coyotes hunting in packs with blood thirst howled in delight.
In his nightmare, blood dripped from wet trees,
"who will rescue our bloodied orphaned planet?"
his heart with a collective guilt , beyond words wailed.
From denuded mountain slopes, muddy red water
copiously gushed downhill, nature's menstrual flow
out of cycle, devastated hillsides cleaving gashes,
like scorned woman's fury baring long sharp fangs-
landslides opened gaping wounds.
Liquid's rule took over the space of night,
lying awake on his bed,
he became conscious of the burden of women,
who moved around with invisible bridles
pretending free, nervously smiling.
Swimming in the amniotic fluid of the past
he is forced to recount the past sins,
nature and women have endured and ask
for forgiveness seeking salvation.*
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 2:46 PM UTC
Staring out the window
I think to myself
is this how life looks
from the top shelf?
Never had I thought
I'd be sitting here with him
one hand holding his
and the other wiping our baby's snot.
"I want to be big" I'd said
Life was all rainbows in my head
With rainbows came rain
And with rain, more pain.
But as our fingertips touched,
through the cricks of my brain
the memories gushed
"We'll get through it all" he said
"As long as you never let go"
But let go I did, of all my big dreams
and so life turned out - as perfect as it seems.
Apr 4, 2018
Apr 4, 2018 at 2:05 AM UTC
David flew into my bedroom
light blue eyes flashing excitement
"Sonya ki," he gushed
"We are now the proud parents
of a newborn baby pineapple!"
For two years David fathered
and diligently nurtured the
pineapple cutting from
the Yoga ashram
Cooing, lullabying,
coaxing, fertilizing
I threw on my sandals
and dashed into the
bucolic nursery
There peeking up at us
it's amber pink body
swaddled in spiky
leaves
was our own little
darling pineapple
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 12:29 AM UTC