"hogging" poems
I can't remember the last time I touched your face
But I can feel your cheekbones digging into my mind like the feeling of taking a shovel
hollowing out my own grave to lie in
When was the last time I was able to run my fingers through your hair?
Untangling hair is easy, but I haven't yet found anything
to get out the knots in my stomach
If someone asked me what color your eyes were, I couldn't tell them
But I could explain just how it felt when they looked into mine
Like when you look into the sun and are blinded by its immense beauty, so blinded
you can't see the inevitable damage it inflicts upon every pore
Except I haven't yet found anything to protect myself from your stare
What if my skin burns before you can feel it again
And how will you feel if you're too bright that I can't look anymore?
You might begin to miss the fact that nobody can look at you the way I do
before you even realize I can
And I could tell them how you felt when mine looked into yours
despite the fact that you can't
Because you don't know what it's like to feel something other than your own fear
But I'm not afraid of you anymore, I have no fear
I have some hope you can have, it's been growing for quite some time
And I may have some more strength left, although dealing with you feels like
running to a destination that doesn't exist
I'm tired of being selfish and hogging all the feelings
And I think I'll share
with you
Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 9:44 PM UTC
I have taken myself to far.
I have given myself over to
something to strong.
This frenzy
lifts me to my
fate.
Guides me to my
doom.
Into you.
Is where i will fall
Your hogging
the equilibrium
I see you
dying
to come out
and ruin me.
Jan 17, 2012
Jan 17, 2012 at 12:24 PM UTC
-
some of us Crave it,
some of us disLike it,
some of us Hate it,
some of us inVite it.
some of us dont Want it,
some of us dont Need it,
some of us are Seeking it,
some of us are Hogging it.
some of us will Order it,
some of us will Revel in it,
some of us are Bored oF it,
some of us will never Get it.
some of us are Waiting for it,
some of us are for the Taking,
some of us will take the Menu,
some of us will set the Table.
"why was Six a fraid of Seven?"
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 7:21 PM UTC
I find myself in a daydream about those lips
Slowly caressing every inch of my body down to my hips
Leaving me in such a state that I cannot control mouth
Deep moans of yes and no and baby please don’t stop
I find myself surrounded in your arms, lost in your voice
I’m not fighting the mood but it takes m y body by force
Blessing my ears with such a tone of memorization
Sending me into a ****** state of confusion
That only you control and I dare not fight the hold
Cause everything you are doing is like food to my soul
As if I need it to continue for my own survival
The thought of you stopping and leaving gives me a taste of dehydration
Hogging this glass of water to the death of me, you hydrate me
Close my eyes as I continue to steady my breath
So much water I’m drowning in my water flow
Trying desperately to keep my head above the current only to be dragged down to the bottom
The water overtaking my body granting me the pleasure of feeling every desire you have
Reaching out for your face to pull you close, gazing into those eyes
Seeing the passion you have for me only takes us to new depths of waters
Suddenly the effort to breath becomes easier as we are exchanging an never ending oxygen support
Legs wrapped around you waist, squeezing to keep you near
As my body is shaking with overwhelming pleasure from this sea we have created
Wanting to bring you to the edge of the waterfall and watch you overflow your self
Both of us deep underwater submerged in love
Suddenly floating to the surface again
It seems we overdosed on love, in our own sea we drowned.
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 10:23 AM UTC
I know we all
love perfect geometry
so there I laid
making sense of the scene
staring at the machine
resting incomplete
and knowing- it needs me;
I am the missing piece
But then I wondered
which part would I be
resting above the bicycle seat?
crunching the cogs-
and hogging all the good teeth
but no-
instead disguised in the frame-
-in the open triangle-
-under the icon-
-under the handlebars-
-a part I don't know the name-
but the one trying to make ends meet.
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 12:12 PM UTC
I'm so many things
But I want to be more
So much more important
Than an oxygen *****
The air that I waste
The time that runs out
For I'm hogging the world
In an oxygen drought.
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 7:30 PM UTC
Waking among the concrete structures
Starting the day running around in earnest
For chores are plenty and time is handful
To begin a new one-hundred-meter-dash
Trying to outdo each other, in an imaginary race
Every stride we take, the concrete takes away our zeal
There is no cushion for the hectic lifestyle
Taking a toll on our mind and body
We seem to have reached somewhere
But end up at the same station, to catch the train
Inadvertently, packing every coach
Few faces we know from our daily commute
Lots of new faces add up to the crowd
We are an individual, but interspersed in the crowd
Waiting to get-off at the daily destination
The concrete pavements and the concrete buildings
Greets us gloomily, although modern architecture
Facades of glass reflecting off the chaos of life outside
Immediately, we are in a grind of the job
Lost in numerous presentations and graphical projections
The pie charts take the sweetness out of our life
Savoring only percentages, with sprinkling of peppery talks
Targets are set and client’s meet are arranged
To strike out a deal and sign-off the nuptials
It’s a marriage of client and service providers
Where brands are hogging the limelight
For us it’s the race to maintain our saneness
As it’s a daily commute through the concrete jungle
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 2:00 PM UTC
Sitting in a chair counting spots that passed before my eyes.
The insect smiled and said "hold still" i missed one.
They swirl this way and that.
dont move Please. be still.
Not an easy task
a fever of 104.2
could you. I think that I shall never see
a poem lovely as a tree.
Sitting on my blanketed chest
The insect did his best to sing me a lullaby.
his breath was horrendous but he meant well.
He stroked my burning cheek and
changed the cool washcloth regularly
on my aching head.
Then turned my pillow to the cool side again.
There my friend.
He scuttled under with me and snuggled
his hairy legs were itchy and rough.
small price to pay.
eh wot.
Oh yes we have no bananas
We have no bananas today.
Captain if we keep pushing her like this
she's gonna blow.
We regret to inform you that
the price of tea in China is now
High as gas in California.
Chicken broth he brought
with a silver spoon to boot
The insect waited patiently
as I swallowed then spooned
the next load in.
"Here let me wipe you chin."
Ladies and gentlemen and all ships at see
The Hindenburg has landed
oh the humanity.
This is not the end
No not the beginning of the end.
But more, the end of the beginning.
Help me up Mr Checks. I think I gotta ***
Oops forgot to raise the lid.
Mr Checks. Can you have room service come up.
we need more Trowels. Uh towels.
Stop hogging the remote. Where's mom
Have you seen my Teddy with one eye missing.
To bed to bed
You sleepy head .
Tarry a while said slow.
Put the *** said greedy glut
Lets stuff before we go .
Mr Checks.
All hands on deck.
We dont have enough lifeboats sir.
The iceberg is sky blue and beautiful dont you agree.
What do you do with a drunken sailor
early in the morning.
Heave ** and up she rises
Early in the morning.
THIS FEVERISH DREAM TO BE CONTINUED.
Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 11:49 AM UTC
No! I aint going back.
I aint wishing to go back!
Back again to the same old routine.
The same insecure questions.
hanging in the air, behind your back.
When I hug you,they appear.
They stare at me and laugh at my miserable state.
My mind is playing games with me
and I have lost,badly.
Binge eating.Binge drinking.
Unconsciously.
Consciously.
Making yourself believe in the false
perception.
A rainbow,made of candy sprinkles and marsh mellows.
Sweet weddings and cuddly children.
But life has to be an un-idealistic *****
A sweet thing endowed on us.
A sweet candy handed to us by the shopkeeper.
a kind in kind that he gives to get away
from guilt and monotony.
A smile makes his day.
A penny gone though.
***
I aint going back.
To the TV watching.
to the hogging
and to the lousy cold **********
I aint going back to conversations that bear no fruit.
Conversations filled with hormonal rushes,
head rushes,motherly and fatherly feelings,
orderly arguments.
Angered moments,
angered and tempered to them limit.
fists, bumps,scratches.
Love drowned down with beer
smoked away in a puff.
I don't want to go back!
No way! No sir.
I would rather wait for the bus.
May be walk for miles myself.
I like to walk anyways.
***
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 7:43 AM UTC
i listen to Dubstep music and sip tea
i am the Post-Mark
Pondering Gender politics and finishing my tea
i am non violent, a pacifist
But don't put it past me that i won't clench a fist
With righteous grist
If you make me feel alone in my considerations temporarily
i'm not a weak soul am hardy folk
Hardly lost faith when i realised God was a joke
Like a big fat egg yolk splattered all over paper
Christmas hogging 3 months of calendar
A Consumerist campaign, but tell me i'm the miser
Police tend to pass me in the streets, i think smart
Skin colour ain't the first part
One of the mainly white audience at the Public Enemy show
The system as it stands fears me though
If you stop and searched my heart you'd **** me though
i Listen to Deep House and sip Lucozade
Lost deep in this house
i've never worked hard at a job
So **** lucky at birth to have wealth
But that's my parents money (and I'm not in any way responsible for slavery)
Kanye West with his Confederate Flag ****
"I'ts mine now, what you gonna do?"
Little did we know that we were the 'New Slaves'
Contemporary thinker, i read the game cover to cover
After all they taught me from birth how to study
i'm too uninterested in ticking boxes to earn money
To satisy the transferable skills that you want from me
I'll Enjoy a nights alcoholism instead of getting high and writing an essay
Am I getting too wordy?
i'm trying to spit now, can i? can I?
The gender politics on my mind at inappropriate times
i told the guy at the door i wasn't thinking about race
Most people are thinking about 'the race'
White Middle Class kid picked up a mic and tried to rap again...
I listen to Hip Hop and drink water
Hardly faded I'm perfectly sober
I'm energised naturally, words seem to strengthen me
I am the grassroots, I have been wrongly righted
My Parent's deserve this so want me to sit tight
But I'm jumping right into the middle of hip hop (and feminism)
And theres nothing you can do about it.
[For All My ****** and All My *******
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 7:48 PM UTC
i’d spend more time with you if I could
but
leash laws are strict
and you don’t have a collar.
hogging my bed
will have to be enough for now.
Apr 25, 2011
Apr 25, 2011 at 12:44 PM UTC
For every tear that i cry it helps to numb the pain
Until eventually
you'll just be a name,
a distance memory.
You'll be no longing calling to me
hogging all my dreams.
My soul will be content,
happy as one,
not lonely for the other.
The looks that we shared,
The way your lips taste
will be all but forgotten.
Until then,
I'll sit and I'll think
remembering your face,
the times that we shared
until I run out of tears.
(SW)
Mar 26, 2013
Mar 26, 2013 at 12:14 AM UTC
Sara L Russell 6/3/13 16:18
Just look at him, sitting in the corner
Hogging the remote control
Seemingly so deaf but he can hear us when he likes
Leaves such a mess around the toilet bowl
Just look at him stagger to the ******
Just because we've hidden all the *****
He remembers where to drink but can't remember where he lives
Maybe a nursing home will help him choose
Look at that poor old man sat in the corner
He had no visitors again today
He sings all the old songs but doesn't quite recall his name
And never seems to have a lot to say.
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 11:28 AM UTC
*I know I should most likely be
Doing something else...*
However, I can't help myself
This is what I want to do right now.
Wait. What was I talking about?
**** I don't even know.
Should we be talking about you?
Because I just feel so selfish for
Hogging the conversation,
Disrupting the silence
With nonsense.
With random facts I read somewhere
With the weather reports that are. . .
. . . . . . .
**** I'm doing it again.
I'm sorry. . . . . . . .
Was I staring off just now?
I couldn't help but think about
How the pattern on that gentleman's shirt
Looked just like my grandmother's couch!
*I wonder if it also smells like moth *****
Um, yeah. Salad sounds great for lunch,
How is your dog doing?
Jul 21, 2016
Jul 21, 2016 at 11:49 PM UTC
This morning I woke up smiling.
I kissed your cheeks.
Every tiny thing about you inspires me to write stanzas,
But who wants to read a poem entirely based on the way your face scrunches up in the shower, exposing your pearly whites while you grab loose strands of knots from the suds of conditioner
Or how in awe I am at the sight of the beautifully constructed transition of your chest to your neck and how I envision maroon little passions marks along it every time I stare at your throat vibrating when you speak, and your strong hands on my shoulders, hips, everything.
The way you smile seductively to get what you want and how I never thought you'd be that good at making my knees weak enough to buckle and bow down and give you every thing and every part of me I can muster up or hold in the palms of my tiny hands.
(I actually teared up today while looking at you but you don't know that because I was hogging the water and your eyes were closed.
For a moment I thought you must be the physical embodiment of the perfect human polykelitos wrote an entire novel and carved an entire bronze sculpture trying to create and bring to life.
-----
This morning I woke up and you were smiling. You kissed my cheeks. You told me you liked my cheeks. You gave me butterfly kisses and butterflies in my stomach and you left little maroon passion marks along my neck.
I don't think my body has ever felt more euphoric.
We fit together like Tetris.
Your body felt sacred.
Our passion was electric,
both of our souls pure and naked
just like the Greeks and then Romans painted.
Sometimes I feel like our love is geometric.
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 8:57 PM UTC
Slivering through the star-covered sky,
Crazing down at you in your sleep,
Telling it's story,
As it's supposed to go,
Hogging your fate,
Otherwise,
Sharing your destiny,
Like you don't exist completely,
Nobody knows your secrets,
But everyone knows your future,
Let the shining moon tell you your flying
Stars.
Jan 19, 2011
Jan 19, 2011 at 5:03 PM UTC
The world is filled with swine in suits and ties,
hogging down and ******** out lies,
stopping here and there,
to trim their tusks and tame each others hair,
for appearance certainly is a must,
when you're a creature none should trust.
Sludge and slop goes to the top,
to feed the greedy boars.
The filthy ****** spread their legs from shore to shore
always wanting and demanding more and more.
From behind a locked door,
somewhere on an eighteenth floor,
you can hear their squealing cries,
smell their wretched sties,
and feel the hate that pours,
from their blackened beady eyes.
Use caution where you tread,
and think before you fill your head.
Be careful with which words you choose to believe,
for not everyone is who they seem to be.
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 11:40 AM UTC
Drag me under the car she said
and I said where are your keys?
Pour me a molotov cocktail she said
and I said Another one?
Make the left eye black to match the right she said
and I said Let me get my glove
I'm cold, get me more gasoline she said
and I said Will regular unleaded do?
Move over you're hogging the bed she said
and I said Yeah, Tim give us some room
Do you have anything to bring me down? she said
and I said There's always the fire escape
I still love you she said
and I said How much money do you need?
Jun 2, 2012
Jun 2, 2012 at 9:01 PM UTC
I'm angry and agitated and pent-up.
ignored and perhaps forgotten—or thought of as if to regret ending something perfectly fine.
people are talking downstairs, saying nothing.
I don't want to live.
I want to die, and die well to make sure I'm dead.
I want to die and not haunt anyone or be a dust-collecting memory in a display case of what once meant something.
I want to die. So. Hard. I'm angry that I took 16 breaths just now.
I want to die and not have a funeral because I don't want people to be in that awkward position.
I want to die and not disappear off the grid but actually lay ca-put in a grave; my soul rejoices or cries; i don't know.
Throwing tantrums because life’s curtain has been reluctant to close is looked down upon in society—apparently.
I'm tired of 'white' 'black' 'hot' ‘unattractive’ 'poor' 'rich'.
I hope everyone has a ****** day tomorrow.
I type this on an imagined-into-existence phone—that has no service—by a guy whose name also means 'occupations'.
I type it on a phone because an ******* is hogging the outdated pc with a new battery pack because that same ******* wore the chord out.
it's not that I don't know what to do with my life; I just want to die.
that's what I want to do.
die.
that's all.
But perhaps be in a focused band that plays pretty good music, first.
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 6:37 PM UTC
Your breath
Fills my heart
With happiness
I'm just lying here listening
To it enter and leave your chest
Fantasizing about the days we have
The days we have to look forward to
The future that I want to build with you
You inspire me in so many ways
To love you better, harder, fuller
To rise to my potential every day
With every snore my heart flutters
You're a twitcher, too
Which makes me giggle
I often wonder what you're dreaming about
If we are hiking and you have tripped
If Bones has crawled under your legs
If Tucker has jumped on you again
If your brother has tackled you to wrestle
If you just dropped the weights at the gym
And I'm writing this now as you sleep
My arm tingling, about to join you
But I can't snooze
Thinking about the luck I have come upon
To be buried under the weight of your arm
As you're hogging the bed
Not realizing, just trying to get close to me
Lucky to have someone so in love
Mar 19, 2018
Mar 19, 2018 at 2:32 AM UTC
A warm feeling spreads through my chest
Through my veins
A smile spreads across my face
All because of three words.
That brings joy
Joy that once left me.
Life without you
Is life without joy
I used to lay awake
Wondering
If you still loved me
After all the pain I put you through
After all this time apart
After everyone criticized you
Did you worry?
Did you lose sleep over me?
Do you miss me,
as much as I miss you?
And the answer is now clear.
That you still love me.
That you miss me as much as I miss you
That you lay awake at night
Missing me
and my snoring.
And hogging the blankets.
And my joy returns
As quickly as it left.
All because of a single phrase.
"I miss you."
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 12:40 AM UTC
I think about her fingers gripping your back
I hear nails on a chalkboard
You whispering to her in the dead of the night,
move over, love, you’re hogging the blanket
White noise in my ears
my head hurts, your voice rattles inside and ricochets off the walls of my mind
I stop hearing you after a while
The walls are padded now
You are only in my head these days
I’d rather have you hurt than have you nothing
It was worse than a screaming, breathless argument
When I kissed and kissed and touched
but you did not move
I could not move you, could no longer make you feel
No matter how tightly I closed my eyes
I could still see how little you loved me
No matter how hard I tried not to grip your fingers like I was falling from a cliff
I still felt your hand cramping from the effort to stay in mine
I will never say that you did not try
You used to believe in things like magic and yourself
Yet, here you are saying, ‘love doesn’t really matter at all, does it?’
and I made you this way
My sharp edges cut you
Someone someday standing where I once stood
She’ll smile like it’s second-nature, and have a laugh that isn’t forced
She’ll taste like me but less bitter, with hair far softer, her speech not course
Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 3:23 PM UTC
Sitting there on the lap
He claps when the audiences clap
On him painted an aura of happiness
A smile is permanently fixed on his face.
Eyes forever stretched without a frown
He plays to the gallery a perfect clown
You may envy his easygoing ways
Gathering laughter on all that he says,
His widely open unblinking eyes
That show faked emotions feigned surprise.
You may like to have his rapturous nights
Drawing applauses hogging limelight
But you would have pity for him once you know
He’s a talking doll in the ventriloquist’s show.
Jul 20, 2013
Jul 20, 2013 at 2:21 AM UTC
Sometimes I feel like I'm doing the walk of shame
when I leave my house in the morning
dressed in last nights clothes and breath.
Out into the sunshine of the world
while you're still upstairs
outstretched on the bed
hogging the sheets
and darkness in your head.
Jul 7, 2012
Jul 7, 2012 at 12:47 PM UTC