"juicy" poems
There once was a young man named Feste, and he was not a very good young man.
He was a thief, and a sneaky one at that. He would go to all of the stores in the market and steal anything that he pleased.
He loved to steal from the baker and the butcher especially.
He would go to his hiding place in the forest after his deviousness and eat away his stolen treasures, brooding on what a “clever little boy” he was.
The baker and the butcher knew though. They noticed him coming in most days and leaving in quite a hurry. They could not actually catch him in the act, but they knew beyond a doubt what he was doing. They were having drinks together one night though when they devised a clever scheme to stop him from stealing ever again. The butcher carved up a juicy ham, and the baker baked up a delicious pie, but they added a little something extra to it…
The butcher made sure to quite a bit of alcohol into the ham, and the baker did the same with his pie. They both set their two traps in the store, right when the spoiled thief Feste came strolling into the market with his eyes gleaming.
The baker watched him walk into his shop,the pie disappeared.
The butcher watched him walk into his shop, the ham disappeared.
They both smiled and went about their work.
Feste rushed to his hiding place and devoured his stolen goodies so fast that he didn’t even realize how peculiar it seemed to taste...
Not long after, he started to feel strange. Numb and stupid. He ran towards the village, acting a buffoon. The villagers stared and laughed at Feste acting so odd. His mother found him though and brought down the fury.
“Feste! Why are you acting like a **** fool?" She demanded.
He threw out a few words in a drunken stupor and swayed in place.
"Wait.. have you been drinking!?” She screamed.
“Noe maum! Allll Ie had todae is pie and haam!” He stammered in a drunken sway.
“And where exactly did you get those!?” She inquired.
Feste had a look of terror on his face and grew silent.
He was found out to be the no good thief and was punished severely, because his mother thought he stole the alcohol as well as the pie and ham, and he couldn’t prove otherwise.
Feste never stole again and he even apologized to the butcher and baker, though they still do have a laugh now and then…
The End
Jan 15, 2013
Jan 15, 2013 at 7:03 PM UTC
My lips have always craved the taste of danger.
Maybe it is because I don't know what's good for me
or I'm in love with the high I get from it
The high that takes me to the heavens,
surpassing the pillow-like clouds
resting against the azure canvas
I remember the taste so vividly,
I salivate at the thought of it
It's sweet like candy,
the sugary goodness
rushing inside my veins
delicately coating my tongue
bites between my teeth
explode into a thousand little pieces,
dancing inside my mouth
Your succulent lips pressed against mine,
remind me of the taste of summer strawberries,
juicy and tender with citrusy undertones
we're kissing like there's no tomorrow
Oh how I feel your lips part from mine, then touch
and part again the way the clouds greet the sky
Before a rainy afternoon
How can something so bad taste this good?
Oh I'm convinced your kisses are a drug
Nice to play with, but toxic to the mind
Kissing you must be equivalent to intoxication
shockwaves through my body,
the paralyzing euphoria
I don't think I could ever give you up
This addiction is taking control
Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 3:34 PM UTC
in a low silky voice
he whispers ***** ***** *****
he's at the gym
not to far
in the tub
at the spa
come ***** dear
lets have lots a fun
and kiss a while
he licks you some
he loves you so
would you like a big mouse
he has one honey
and its not your spouse
a crazy boy
all over you
drinks you like wine
and eats you like stew
he's not about kids
and going to work
but he washes your dishes
and hes not a ****
***** perfume
the natural smell
don't hide it sweet girl
watch him swell
oh comb it pretty
loves hairy too
spread it like butter
hoochi coohi cooo
don't be shy
and open wide
coax out your ****
and feel the glide
hes the ***** whisperer
calling your soul
loving every fold
melting every hole
summer sweet fruit
hidden away
come on honey
let's dance and play
candy ****
and ***** pie
sweet juicy lush
down velvety thigh
he's got a nice one
its really cool
a big pink stick
that makes you drool
he's the ***** whisperer
calling in time
come hither my love
its not a crime*
meowwwww
May 1, 2018
May 1, 2018 at 11:32 AM UTC
Considering the tomatoes
Sunshine turns the grapes to wine
We have 27 tomatoes standing in a line
Waiting to be burnt and blushing to the sun
But too much sunshine makes me taste too sweet
But if I jump now I will lose my green feet
You have got to be mature enough to be squeezed
To juicy sour and loosely sweet
For I am a tomato,
A tomato thinking about life
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 3:28 PM UTC
Someday I'll hold you like you me charms
Look you straight and deep in your eyes
And let you know how much I lust for you
I'll pull your soft body with me masculine arms
Dead close to mine so that you realize
How glamorously my **** tightens for you
Someday I'll touch your neck with my teeth
I'll graze it so softly that you won't quit
And then pour magical whispers into your ears
The much I've dammed up all these years
I'll place my hard palms beneath your shirt
To softly hard caress your skin so that it'll sweetly hurt
Then I'll place my head onto yours and sigh
Because by this point I'll already be high
Someday I'll be this close and I won't miss
I'll peck your forehead but your lips kiss
You'll shut your eyes and savor my taste
I'll take it one step at a time with no haste
I'll patiently unbutton your outfit
You won't stop me for you'll feel me heat
Someday I'll **** at your beautiful *******
Draped like two cute oranges on your chest
You'll mourn like you're grieved at the pleasure
You'll beg me to quickly find my way inside
But I'll try and keep my control and decide
when to partake of your juicy treasure
Someday I'll explore further down your thighs
Me whom you much loathe and despise
You'll arch like a bow at every touch and laugh like a clown
Yet mourn as I navigate every street of tuna town
You'll beg me to pass through the tunnel of love
And just then I'll swiftly embed myself into nature's glove
I'll place myself above you,I'll be a long awaited burden
You'll hold my posterior as I plough through your garden
Since you say there's no love around here
Further apart your thighs will obediently split
While we make it
Someday we'll walk a thousand miles with no rest
We'll surf the ****** waves till we hit the viperous crest
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 12:52 PM UTC
man (?)
the tomatoes?
patty m.,
a grievous error thy commissioned
tomatoes are the quintessential feminine fruit
red juicy, round, curvy, sweet
with a flavor at once the same,
yet never again always different, diffident,
asized, and blonde or red, never contrived
without it,
would pizza be pizza?
without it,
would **** ***** love,
be merely a good salad
or a poem
ever be the same?
“me love tomatoes”
cookie monster
Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 11:33 AM UTC
One day my brother and I walked the path to the Mango Tree
I was so happy to go see my friend the mango tree.
How ever my brother was not…
“What’s so great about a stupid ol’ mango tree it’s never done anything for me!”
“SHH!” I said scornfully “She has feelings too, and she has done much for you. She has given us her fruit to fill our bellies and shade for free.”
But my brother didn’t listen to me,
He stubbornly went and kicked the tree repeatedly.
And yelled “Mango Trees do NOT have feelings!”
The tree shook violently and out from under it’s leaves dropped a bright green mango SMACK right on my brothers head and he fell dead.
Another juicy plump mango dropped at my feet like the Mango Tree was thanking me.
I picked it up and sat beside my senseless brother by the Mango Tree while devouring my mango and enjoying the silent scenery.
May 21, 2012
May 21, 2012 at 3:00 PM UTC
Anger, is the steaming red on her face
refusal creates in an instance;
jealousy is foaming green
profusion of colors in motion
takes this dance for them to upward
and downward turns,
or a sudden dissolution---
an intense ****** in unison.
Even in darkness he can see the
spasmodic ebbing waves
sleep is the banana plantation
where night wears translucent green
"nobody would see us here"
she whispers in his ears,
as if they are thieving sex,eyeing
the yellow banana she likes, to play with
Purple is the psychedelic color
smeared on horizon when
dreams repeatedly fly down
like night bats and happen
the way mind designs
we don't want to leave the scene
of the dream even when we know well
that the show for us is now over
we just want to hang around
like the dog, in the place
it got a juicy bone.
Yellow is the banana song
that's heard as wave after wave,
by the blind bat squadron
that roams with raw aggression,
for raids above the plantations
Unripe bananas show green fingers
to say "NO! we aren't ripe"
like coy underage virgins.
Then, they ripen, go yellow
some even bright red, inviting
who is blue here is the sky
and those bats who got
the bananas still raw green
Night decents on the banana land
as the white umbrella of sun
is snatched by the dark maiden.
Black is the bat's wing extending
and folding like lust, umbrella and the like.
He finds her shivering fingers like a serpent,
on the banana trunk slithering down,
as he dreams bats, banana, blue sky
and she slithering over him.
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 5:50 AM UTC
You sat on the other end of the table
Glistening, shining, and taunting me
Rosy cheeks with spurts of Yellow and Green
Silently teasing
A juicy, little Apple.
Hopefully no one would see me, no one would pay any attention
As I grabbed the treat and the knife
And began to dangerously peel.
I knew I was doing it wrong
My hands shaking while my cheeks began to flush
Embarrassed by my ignorant inadequacy.
Are you left-handed? she asked from my left.
Humiliation filled the corners of my eyes, wet and distraught.
No, I mumbled. My cheeks reflecting Mose's Red Sea.
I was beginning to drown.
Your thumb needs to move, You make me nervous,
and she sounded nervous indeed.
Put it down here. Help yourself control it. Guide it.
Everyone was staring now, the whole table awed
My ignorance showing, like a medallion at my chest
My shameful Apple as pathetic proof.
You're doing it wrong.
Non così. Basta, faccio io.
Let me do it.
You're about to graduate, and you can't peel an apple.
I began choking, drowning in tears of Humiliation.
No, let her do it the small Voice on my left said.
She is finding her way. Let me watch her.
I finished peeling the Apple
Suffocating my tears as I ate.
You remind me of Daisy, she said soon after
From The Great Gatsby.
I choked and laughed, more ashamed than ever.
I'm not sure that is a compliment.
I could barely muster a mumble.
She couldn't do anything by herself.
She looked at me, gentle and forgiving.
I think it is, she replied
Wistful and Wise.
Daisy was vital to the story, you know.
And I believe that given the chance, she could have done anything that she wanted
On her own.
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 6:27 PM UTC
Bent
Near to breaking
by her burden
of fruit, swollen with seed
In that thrashing by wind
Bearing down on the sun
in her labor—
of Need
to bear
the pain
to bring
her yield
to his hands—
her harvest
of warm juicy softness
___
Gone—
the upright
reach of untouchable spring
When stems, stern and smooth
wore a lace-beaded bodice of bloom
of coral chiffon
First leaves
a scarf
with a fringe of lime green
wrapping her gifted and lean
to the buzzing
She was lighter than dew
to the amateur insects
smeared with her
Her only accessory--
a robin
They had left
as evidence
they had ravaged
its song
___
Now broken and leaking
more damage endured
Ripe fruit in rough hands
He leans against limbs
by his weight sternly pressed
so suffused in the fragrance
of peach intoxicants
which he will have--
He is lost to his lust
He is forcing his need
into another year's beauty
asserting his claim over and over again
of that lost and ancient bounty
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 3:59 PM UTC
It was the time of my Auntie Bee summers
I was small then
She had a parakeet that landed on my head
and a bathtub too
with water so deep!
and legs and claws!
**** thing nearly chased me down the stairs!
She lived in slumbery Windsor Locks
where bugs hung-out in the haze
of teenage August
I played in the tall weeds
with a shoeless Italian boy
who ate tomatoes like apples
and cucumbers right off the vine!
He was ***** free and foreign!
We played— reckless, abandoned
behind the gas pump, under the tractor, in the barn
and through the endless fields
I didn’t know....
His name was Tony
I ate pizza with him—the first time
At Auntie Bee’s I had to go to bed at eight
but I could watch night flowers
bloom on wallpaper
She came in to say good night
slippered, shadowy, night dress slightly open
and I peeped her *******
like Tony’s cucumbers!
I had never seen my mother’s wonders....
Night spread its wings from the old fan—
a bird of tireless exhaustion
whipped, whipped, whipped to death in its cage
tireless exhaustion
tic-tocking in time to a wind-up clock
stretched out on the whine
of the overland trucks
Route Five through the night of an open window
In the grape arbor below—
tremulous incessant
crickets crickets crickets
tremulous incessant—insides of a child
a summer child
not yet ready for the fall of answers
Auntie Bee had a daughter—Maureen
I followed her everywhere I could
I was small then--
do anything for a stick of Juicy Fruit
I followed Maureen through my dreams
of being sixteen
and woke to Peggy’s “Fever”
while she tied her sneakers
against the mattress by my head
I followed Maureen (in my mind)
tanned and bandanned
to work in the fields of shade tobacco
with all those Puerto Rican boys!
She knew where she was going!
I was small then
...do anything for a stick of gum
“Mauney! Mauney! Mauney!”
...through the goldenrod of roadside
through the smell of oil that damped the dust
I followed Maureen’s white shorts
and chestnut hair...to the corner store
I followed the way the boys smiled
the way the screen door slammed
on her bright behind
the way her lips taunted and took
the coke-bottle’s green
I followed Maureen
I swear, I tried for hours to get that right!
Must have been Peggy Lee’s “Fever”
Maureen ties her sneakers in my face
Flaunts her years above my head
She has that look—
“We kids don’t know nothin”
(Little turds” that we be)
…followin’ Maureen
through the goldenrod of roadside
tic-tockin’, beboppin’
“Fever— in the morning
Fever all through the night….”
Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 11:30 PM UTC
He watched pleasure enter her eyes
Sensations of pleasure leaving her mesmerized
Sweet screams, wet dreams, message disguised
Moans escape as bodies magnetized
his hands glued to her thighs
as she sighs
Fingers soaked in wet; juicy juices drip
tongue eclipsing glistening lip; slow licks
Her body, his vessel; selfish
Serving each other relentless
Breathes escaping each other
Tangled together, bodies ravished
Every morsel of one another sandwiched
Finger, Licking, Good.
~Delicious~
Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 6:17 PM UTC
Juicy, sweet, hot chocolate skin...black girls are black goddess
**** black girls For guys and men. The most beautiful, attractive, seductive, **** and exciting in African and African-American women is their sweet, juicy, chocolate skin color. Honey caramel mulattoes. Sweet brown chocolate color. And inviting, savoryly pure black-sugar skin color. This is the most delicious, beautiful, sweet candy in the world. You feel like a sweet tooth in a pastry shop when there are a lot of them around you. If you marry one of them and get her children from her, and live with only one of them all your life, and you will be faithful only to her alone. Your life will be the sweetest. Skin of black color and color of dark chocolate are the sweetest, seductive shades of sincere, hot passion. The skin of dark-skinned girls seems to be radiating the heat of *** burning sweet, sensual passion, this color of temptation, attraction. There are drums of ethnic, traditional music, it's the sound of *** . The black skin of a girl with which sweat and moisture is flowing, as if she still radiates ardent, hot, passionate, and a little stuffy *** in the sauna and her sweet moans are heard. This skin color is like a powerful aphrodisiac replacing ******
The skin of black and dark chocolate is the sweetest, seductive shades of sincere, hot passion.
The women of three races are beautiful: the sultry, torrid, hot chocolate of hot passion of the deep passion of black fire of love and *** a paradise oasis of tenderness of the east, and snow-white, sensual pearls.
For guys and men. The most beautiful, attractive, seductive, **** and exciting in African and African-American girls and women is their sweet, juicy, chocolate skin color. Honey caramel mulatto. Sweet brown chocolate color. And alluring, relish pure black sugar color of skin. This is the most delicious, beautiful, cute candy in the world. You feel like a sweet tooth in a candy store when there are a lot of them around you. If you marry one of them and get children from her, and you will live only with one of them all your life, and you will be faithful only to her. Your life will be the sweetest.
Your skin is the color of one hot, unforgettable night, your libido is the word lava in your hot body, burning passion, only your photos can excite me, only your beauty turns off my brains, you have a **** ****** tune in my head, you are like a hot bath after a hard of the day, like an ****** massage, like a soft pillow with sleeping softness.
Dark skin
The black skin of a girl with which sweat and moisture is flowing, as if she still radiates ardent, hot, passionate, and a little stuffy *** in the sauna and her sweet moans are heard. This skin color is like a powerful aphrodisiac replacing ******
The skin is black and the color of dark chocolate are the sweetest, seductive shades of sincere, hot passion.
Dark-skinned beauties are a deep passion of black fire - this is a hot safari, a wild savannah, an exotic havana.
My new love poem, i hope you will like it.
For my dear light brown girls
Captivating honey caramel is like a shining dawn, life with you is like a sweet ****** dream. Juicy sweet fabulous fantasy beautiful. From your sexuality, the glasses of the captured ****** force in your eyes are sweating, this is the amazing magic of charm concealed in them. You are my depraved temptation ***** temptation. The sweet temptation of a tenderly roaring passion is a breathtaking juicy caramel berry, sometimes pouring with a picturesque modulation, tender sensual shades of red sunset, incinerated with the burning heat of passion. From your hottest, sultry beauty, the brain seems to turn off and faint from your sweetest kisses.
Author: Musin Almat Zhumabekovich
Feb 18, 2019
Feb 18, 2019 at 12:56 AM UTC
Mine are grapefruit halves
Bitter
Salted
Easing the transition into awake
Perfect juicy handfuls
But I know girls with cantalopes
Seems to me you'd need a map
To navigate those
And hands like
Melonballers just to make an impression
Raspberry, Blackberry, Cherry *******
A fruit salad of peaches
And mangoes and apples
It's a world made for peelers
And paring knives
I world where a sweet tooth
Can thrive
We plant our women in orchards
Cultivate them in careful
Organized rows
With expert farmers and the latest fertilizers
Leading them on
Into ripeness
Harvested at just the right time
So that no man ever need know hunger
Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 7:17 PM UTC
I
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public
doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
II
O the valley in the summer where I and my John
Beside the deep river would walk on and on
While the flowers at our feet and the birds up above
Argued so sweetly on reciprocal love,
And I leaned on his shoulder; 'O Johnny, let's play':
But he frowned like thunder and he went away.
O that Friday near Christmas as I well recall
When we went to the Charity Matinee Ball,
The floor was so smooth and the band was so loud
And Johnny so handsome I felt so proud;
'Squeeze me tighter, dear Johnny, let's dance till it's day':
But he frowned like thunder and he went away.
Shall I ever forget at the Grand Opera
When music poured out of each wonderful star?
Diamonds and pearls they hung dazzling down
Over each silver and golden silk gown;
'O John I'm in heaven,' I whispered to say:
But he frowned like thunder and he went away.
O but he was fair as a garden in flower,
As slender and tall as the great Eiffel Tower,
When the waltz throbbed out on the long promenade
O his eyes and his smile they went straight to my heart;
'O marry me, Johnny, I'll love and obey':
But he frowned like thunder and he went away.
O last night I dreamed of you, Johnny, my lover,
You'd the sun on one arm and the moon on the other,
The sea it was blue and the grass it was green,
Every star rattled a round tambourine;
Ten thousand miles deep in a pit there I lay:
But you frowned like thunder and you went away.
15.2k
It was a cold, wintry December day.
I was at home,
sitting by the fire.
The fire was hot,
but from where I sat,
it felt like a warm blanket.
Suddenly,
my ******* started to lactate,
uncontrollably.
I did not know what was going on.
I lifted up my soaking wet shirt,
and put my hands over my *******
in an attempt to stop the lactating,
but it did not work.
And then,
it stopped.
I squeezed my *******
to see if they would lactate again,
but nothing happened.
I went to bed,
hoping this nightmare would be over in the morning.
But it wasn't.
When I woke up,
I went into the bathroom to perform my daily morning activities,
when I realized something on my chest.
A third ******
I tried to rip it off,
but I couldn't.
Later that day,
at dinner,
I was eating a juicy, tender steak,
when suddenly,
all three of my ******* began to lactate!
I tried to stop them,
for they were lactating all over my steak.
Then, like before,
it stopped.
This proceeded for many days.
Everyday,
I woke up with another ******
and everyday around six o'clock,
they would all lactate,
until one day,
the unthinkable happened.
I woke up.
I could not move.
I had no legs.
No arms.
I was a giant ******
"NO!" I screamed.
Then,
as usual,
I began to lactate,
violently,
and then I exploded.
Apr 6, 2012
Apr 6, 2012 at 7:20 AM UTC
My mind raw and twisted,
The soft spell of my fingers touch the leather skinned whip as I expel it against your juicy little ***
Moments like these are my favorite, when your with me.
He strapped my ankles, wrists and all, to demand a bitter strength ignited in his intentions.
Another spank from the whip, tingly, prickly but yet so swiftly.
Few bruises here and there...
but your little angel love's every last bit of your masculine touch.
Feather me up, through tickles and such,
take me by the hair, and pull me towards your lavishing warm chest, where the sweat trickles down the arches of your ribs.
Feeling you pulsate when your ***** is in me,
as I make you c*m....a little closer to another specious night filled with adventure.
Jul 24, 2021
Jul 24, 2021 at 6:51 PM UTC
Birds of a feather,
Not unlike me,
Love fine weather
(When it’s pouring tea).
Manners, wine and dining, too.
Mantis, llama, kangaroo.
Overmade, they do make over.
Things so brittle like the rover
Sent to Mars, the Milky Way,
Bounty, sneaky in its way.
Inbetwixt the words they utter,
They choose bread over the butter.
Frying French and grilling Jerry,
Jamming jars of juicy berry.
Duty-bound, they bound off duty.
Flock together! Fly, my beauties!
Plumes all owned. And not one borrowed.
Standing still amidst the horror…
Jokes aside, and folly ousted,
Peace preferred to putrid bloodshed,
They, like me, are hard to find…
Seems, at last, I’ve lost my mind!
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 4:07 PM UTC
~Christi Michaels~12/2014~
☆⊙☆⊙☆⊙☆
you with an onion
in the palm of your hand
pulling back layers
seeing just who I am
removing the papery
outer shell
the flesh beneath
holding slight color tan
folding back the next
begining to understand
sweet juicy onion
cradled
in the palm of your hand
brave to peel
the next layer
spicey as onions can be
a tear begins to form
a tear just for me
now you are intoxicated
as only an onion can do
you pull back again
translucent flesh
coming through
sweeter and sweeter
I become
as you genlty find my core
you've settled in
found your way
what a delectable
delicious score
☆⊙☆⊙☆⊙☆
Copyright © 2014 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 4:37 PM UTC
Enfleshed and skinned and stuffed with juicy giblets:
A future worm's-meal of steaks and chops and riblets.
O.O
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 3:27 PM UTC
Drop of red,
Large orb in the sky of orange,
Sour yellow,
Soft lushes green,
Body's of wavy blue,
Romantic flowers of fake purple,
My Rainbow has bloomed.
Sweet red stripe,
Juicy orange fruit in my hand,
Bright Yellow petals,
Long green branches,
Silky blue scarf,
Deep purple bucket of hope,
My Rainbow has bloomed.
Red lace on a white dress,
Orange skinny swirls on a white dress,
Yellow collar on a white dress,
Green bow on the red lace,
Blue stripes on the green bow,
Purple string keep the whole outfit as one,
My Rainbow has bloomed.
My Rainbow is natural.
My Rainbow is the things I hold.
My Rainbow is my dress.
My Rainbow is me, is you, is everyone,
A Rainbow has bloomed over you.
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 4:13 AM UTC
your blood shot eyes
so red and round
their juicy plumpness compels me
to eat my baby tomatoes
the pungent smell
of your ***** second-hand smoke
fills me with desire
for some beef jerky
the sickly sight
of your slimy, greasy hair
leave me desperate with longing
for some succulent string cheese
when you scarf down your food
as if the world was ending
i can feel my partially digested turkey sandwich
make its way back up my throat
and spew out
all over your yogurt
ruining it
calculus.
(co-authored)
Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 2:36 AM UTC
Tomato:
Big, juicy, red
INSANE!
Sneaks up upon unsuspecting
Unreliable
MATH TUTORS!
A terrible fight ensues!
Tomato or tutor?
Tutor or tomato?
Tomato knows no math.
Tutor has no seeds.
A standoff.
Tutor and tomato growl menacingly,
Circling one another
Like two pieces of meat
On a microwave turntable.
Suddenly, their rhythmic dance of Hate
Is broken
By the rhythmic sound of incoming
Imminent
Inescapable
Doom.
Tutor and tomato are trampled
Like a TV dinner
On the freeway.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 7:29 PM UTC
Intellectual, perpetual and found
Evolving sun rises east, and stays a glistening round
Juicy flowing insides and a tightly wrapped exterior
God of Sun believes his belongings left inferior
Hair twisted sideways, and braided to the crown
The Sun God weeps because his people leave a frown
Maintaining inequality, hatred, and delusion
For most souls cannot relate to the hardship and confusion
Skies break neatly so their skin absorbs the Sun God’s Love
Beautiful minds keep faith for there is a life Above.
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 5:11 PM UTC