"lotion" poems
I cut the middle fingernail of the middle
finger
right hand
real short
and I began rubbing along her ****
as she sat upright in bed
spreading lotion over her arms
face
and *******
after bathing.
then she lit a cigarette:
"don't let this put you off,"
an smoked and continued to rub
the lotion on.
I continued to rub the ****
"You want an apple?" I asked.
"sure, she said, "you got one?"
but I got to her-
she began to twist
then she rolled on her side,
she was getting wet and open
like a flower in the rain.
then she rolled on her stomach
and her most beautiful ***
looked up at me
and I reached under and got the
**** again.
she reached around and got my
**** she rolled and twisted,
I mounted
my face falling into the mass
of red hair that overflowed
from her head
and my flattened **** entered
into the miracle.
later we joked about the lotion
and the cigarette and the apple.
then I went out and got some chicken
and shrimp and french fries and buns
and mashed potatoes and gravy and
cole slaw,and we ate.she told me
how good she felt and I told her
how good I felt and we
ate the chicken and the shrimp and the
french fries and the buns and the
mashed potatoes and the gravy and
the cole slaw too.
69.4k
Love tastes like beauty, devotion and affection, rolled into a wafer together.
Love is the beauty of the vain, lone rose of the wild,
fading on the skin of your arms like a lotion.
Love is the devotion of watery jasmine and apples,
running smoothly down the back of your throat.
Love is the affection of thick, chocolatey hazelnuts,
dying so they can remain for everafter on the tip of your tongue.
the sweet, smoky taste of Love rubs in your limbs and your veins
until it is one with your blood and is the only thing you feel.
You devour Love, but it consumes you.
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 1:18 PM UTC
It smells like first love
Says the perfume bottle
Smells like true love
Says the bath bomb
What does first love smell like?
First love smells like rain
The heavy scent of the air
Before a thunderstorm
True love smells like cookies
Baking in the background
And a rich *** of coffee
Brewing from fresh beans
And of cinnamon in hot chocolate
And lavender, like my lotion
And spice, like his deodorant
First love smells lightly of sweat
Because you're nervous
True love smells like tears
Because it's never a dry-eyed affair
It smells like the flowers
Of the wedding bouquet
And the crimson and white
Christmas flower display
First love smells like body spray
Slathered on to hide the sweat
True love smells natural
Bad breath in the morning
And yet fine
Because it's theirs.
First love turns to sweet summers' air
Vanished with August's last week
True love kisses the scents
Both foul and fair
That break upon my cheek.
Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 11:48 PM UTC
The old blue box filled to the brim
With bandages, Advil, and what my dad used to call "magic healing lotion"
So that we would feel special when putting it on
After falling down
From the monkey bars on the playground across the street
Or that first time I fell off of my bike
Now my pain is more than skin deep
Not a simple dab of magic healing lotion and a Spider-Man bandaid
Will help stop the blood dripping from my wrists
The old blue box filled to the brim
With bandages, Advil, and what my dad used to call "magic healing lotion"
Now sits on the top shelf of the closet
Collecting dust
Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 3:52 PM UTC
the sounds are there, they come through walls
right around the corner
they're not visual, they're miserable and in need
they're equal opportunity exhibitionists
lovers of a family get together, taking everything in
parasitic and aware, destitute and stuck
but they're also there at the wrong time
the wrong time for the person who's alone
the wrong time for a person who's disconnected
because they want to be enjoying peace and quiet
alone
by themselves in an old house
with summer outside making its noises, crickets
trees rustling under a jeweled sky, the pinnacle of up high
breathing in the home air of cannibus, lotion and food
being disturbed is far from a thought, but unavoidable
simultaneously
because the house has a strange history
the basement floods, and the machinery kicks in
the mind ponders as the constellations wander
the nights grow and shrink, the body is dry, bone dry
the shower is turned on, soap, shampoo
lost in the mind on autopilot
until the spine stiffens
its without a doubt that I'm not alone now
a minute ago i was the master of this house
a minute ago I was naked in the hallway, smoking a cigar
now I've been usurped and I just want to barricade myself
in this house that I've live in for 15 years, now i beg for permission
to stay just one more night
I beg because how could I possibly fight
It's my conscious or the pontius pilate
I hope it's the former, because if not, blowout the pilot light
There's little hope for re-ignition or stellar recognition
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 2:30 PM UTC
Waiting for me after a long shower and shampoo
I dry my bronze silky skin and come to you,
Your smiling sweetly sitting on the edge of Marble countertop,
waiting while your loving gaze at me never drops.
I reach out my moist hands, we brush,
You shake nervously and seem to turn to mush.
Your wondering really how innocent are my fluid motions,
I'm smirking, while grasping a scented lotion.
You sit there amused blushing from Pink to rainbow,
Each angle gives you a new mellow, a glow, wow!
I'm missing something , something I pretend to forget,
You look impatient now with sighs of regret.
You sulk as I glimpse with a lean of my head,
through the frame of my door from my now made up bed,
I pull up my slacks, your sunny smile fades to dreary,
I put on my shirt, your turning the evil fairy.
I know you feel there's someone else,
Some disappearing genie or magical elf,
because you sense but never see,
Me happy in other pleasant company.
You want to be all over me that much is clear.
I want to take you too in my arms dear,
But today will have to be just that touch,
Your lingering smell on me makes others lust.
But silently you understand,
Your sealed mouth is as dry as sand,
I blow a kiss as I pick up my key,
I know in the dark you'll wait for me................
Because your MY perfume
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 2:57 PM UTC
Touch you with my touch
make you feel the rush
of our bare skins brush
rubbing against each other
forever isn't long enough
for me to get enough
the sound of your voice
enjoying pleasures
making your whole blush
diving deeper than an ocean
the vibes got us open
we let it slide like some lotion
I'm in rhythm with your motion
slowly stirring our love potion
Nov 9, 2016
Nov 9, 2016 at 7:08 PM UTC
Take yourself out on a date
(I like pizza too!)
Hold your own hand
(Smooth! is that scented lotion I smell?)
Complement yourself while looking in the mirror
(Where do I begin)
Pat your own back
(I've always believed in you)
And instead of waiting for someone to come along and sweep you off your feet, take pole dancing lessons.
(Woah! You're so ....... Strong!)
No one can truly love you, if you can't learn to love yourself.
(I love you)
Jul 11, 2015
Jul 11, 2015 at 8:47 PM UTC
Yellow is
a high-minded mood
the extravagance of sunlight
to be touched--
before long
by colors of play
____________
It is of hair
tendering golden sun
brown pennies for lemonade
____________
Yellow is
bumping into the screaming end
of a lit
cigarette
_____________
Yellow is
dripping from the eaves
onto an empty soup can
_____________
It is
spindling sparrow song
from highest perch on roof
his pitch can aspire
_____________
Yellow is
in rattled doorknob
an infant's sweet
voice wanting – in
Reciting menu
above mattress
edges into sleep
two dark eyes
plead
for yellow
waking
Mother into morning--
“juice.... eggs”
Yellow ____
is
opening a car door
at the shore's
unmistakable!
Smells of life
warmth and breeze
touching strings
those kites
of sense
harmonics
above the tone
octaves of excitement
to see to hear to touch to taste
to know
again –
the ocean of my mother
as she calms the waves,
ignores the pouts of us
with stuff to lug out to the beach
the towels, pails and shovels
Picnic basket, cooler
lotion, comic books, her magazines
Mom looks out
She is a good swimmer
Her glasses, dark
Preside
reflecting beauty –
“Take your sister's hand.”
Yellow are the squeals
Feet thrashing sand
of cannot wait
May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 10:06 PM UTC
Hanggat maari ayaw ko pa sanang
Iligpit ang mga pinggan at ilang kubyertos
Na ginamit natin, ang damit ****
Nakasampay sa ulunan ng higaan natin,
Ang mga basyo ng lotion, shampoo, at
Pabango na naiwan mo, lahat sila itinabi
Ko, kasama ang damdamin kong binuo
Mo sa maikling panahon na naglagi ka,
Dito kung saan iniwan mo ako.
Dumating na naman ang summer, at
Heto ako, inaalala ang plinano nating
Forever. Ang alon sa dalampisagan,
Ang mga piraso ng batong inipon mo't
Sinilid sa sisidlan ng tarheta, hanggang
Ngayon binibilang-bilang ko pa, tila mga
Patak
Ng luha na hindi na titila. Ang dalawang
Pirasong damit mo, ayun, nakasabit pa,
Sa dingding na naging saksi sa mga
Sandaling hiniram natin sa tag-araw.
Dumating na naman ang summer, at
Heto, ang dalampasigan, pinagmamasdan
Ko, nagsasabing may forever...
Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 9:05 AM UTC
Well, she looks like a witch,
Her pointed nose does twitch.
As she frowns upon the grocery list,
Then scrunches in a timely twist.
Bidding her straw broom,
Which she doth groom.
Hovers away into the gloom,
Over a pond she doth loom.
To frogs, rats, snakes and slime,
Quoth she, "All in good time!!"
Soon they'll be no room,
For the impending doom.
Her cauldron happily hissing,
As she adds to the seething,
Her black cat begins meowing,
After the rats, he begins running.
Slowly cooling the putrid portion,
She applies the lovely lotion.
The moles, warts and silver hair,
Disappear into thin air.
Her velvet apparel now lace,
Not a blemish does one trace.
Fondling her silky Siamese,
She heads home with ease.
To the little candy castle,
Awaiting Hansel and Gretel.
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 10:21 AM UTC
Panginoon mo ang
Panganorin. Bertud
Ka ng hubad na diwata.
Likhang-isip, halukipkip
Ng wika, pedestal ng
Luha, ikaw itong kalahatan
Ng kasalatan ng unawa't
Awa ng hangal na madla.
Samut-saring anyo't samyo
Ng opyong bumabawi ng
Bait at hinanakit sa buhay
Ngunit masugid na patrong
Naghahasik ng biyaya
Sa anyo ng
bote
pakete
lata
spaghetti
langaw
lumot
bangaw
ipis
lotion
******
burak
darak
barya
kariton
prosti
sutana
artista
politiko
pulis
tsismis
atbp.
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 3:23 PM UTC
Some people work out
to get totally bulked
some people work out
to get totally slim
sometimes one just
never knows which
will result
but when all gets going
the most beautiful part
is to get the body
flowing
getting the body
moving
getting the body
grooving
it is so beautiful
to feel a tug
of ****** movement
never felt
where it was felt
with any strength before.
Keeping the body
beautiful
means keeping up the
motion
movement is beauty
when done with
will and devotion
the body is ageless
when rejecting the
notion
that time is an
enemy like
zero pdf lotion.
Keep working out
how you will
be it lifting
be it dancing
be it running
or groovy prancing
let your self
cry out for more
let yourself
stretch
to reduce being
sore.
Let the body move
so that you sweat
straight from the heart
the more you move
and work it hard
you create
body art.
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 4:28 PM UTC
what is luck?
i have a dotted line that i've been trying to fill in for my whole life
diagnosed at nine with a carrying-too-much disease
but i can afford the pills and therapy
from someone else's wallet
but
for how long?
tell me, doctor,
when i'm off my parents' Healthcare Plan,
will you still want to talk to me?
we've built such a great relationship
in the past lord knows how many years of
punching mirrors
kissing porcelain bowls
would you please keep giving me ****** lotion
to smooth out the holes in my brain?
what about the other kids who are dying out in the same crispy sun that doesn't set?
tell me, do you feel the same compassion
for these daughters of dopamine deficiency?
would you hold the hands of thirty year olds
who still fear the monsters under their beds?
you *******
do no harm
and turn a blind eye
and i know it's not your fault
but **** it, Look Me In The Eyes
and tell me
what do you plan to do?
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 10:31 PM UTC
I don’t know what to order so I order the cheapest thing on the menu
I don’t know if you have lotion, but if you do could I use some
you pulled something out of your pocket, that attracts the consumer I’m sure
it looked lip balm, it looked like blush, but it was lotion
you walked me to your place
made me a whisky and soda
you had mint, you put it in
before then I had read about that only in novels
I didn’t go home soon
I was thinking of polyamory, the next morning at noon
the next morning at noon
curly hair, brown skin, brown skin, curly hair
nose ring, curly hair, brown skin, nose ring, and curly hair
guilt guilt guilt guilt guilt guilt guilt guilt in the morning
I’m mourning over my Catholic upbringing
and do I always have to tell the truth when I write something
I don’t wanna drink and drive like I don’t wanna drink and make love
make love with a woman
I don’t wanna drink and just fritter and **** away
**** off guilty conscience
you’re wrong socialized conscience
let me dip my feet, let me submerge
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 8:21 PM UTC
I'm your Shiva feel my love
Wear my spirit like a glove
For my Goddess I will melt
Illuminate till I'm felt
In your body brews a storm
*** inside keep you warm
Every inch of you is fascinating
Hold your stare as I'm penetrating
You are divine feel my devotion
Explosive with every motion
From our bodies spills a potion
Lubricating just like lotion
Tasty is your elegance
Choose me make me relevant
To worship every inch of thee
Ravish taste you Spiritually
I am hard..I will grind
Do it fast take my time
Command me do as you wish
Cook for you your favorite dish
On the table or on the floor
Bend you over feel me some more
Seduction tastes a lot like sin
Spoils satisfying like a win
Bodies battle at the core
Spectacular is our ****** war
Pledge allegiance to my Queen
Feel this Shiva in your dreams
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 5:09 PM UTC
smelly the elephant came to town in a circus show
but from poor nellie the smell it used to flow
she just couldnt help it her feet were really bad
she was so unhappy and very very sad
people held there nose as she was passing bye
this it made her worse and she began to cry
then she asked the vet to see what he could do
he said i have a potion that i can give to you
he rubbed in the lotion and the smell it went away
they never smelt again to this very day
Mar 29, 2010
Mar 29, 2010 at 8:05 AM UTC
This is a hymn for a him,
Close your eyes, imagine,
Soft, dextrous hands in motion,
Soothing aching muscles with lotion,
Smoothing with unguents,
Rubbing with emollients,
R.....E.....L....A.....X.....I.....N......G.....
You'll wake up smiling,
I'll ease away your frowning,
Compliant massage dreaming,
Healing hands for him,
Close your eyes, imagine........
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 3:32 AM UTC
Today I accidentally saw a preview of; The News;
a disabled sixteen-year-old girl, a victim of abuse
god
The accused is a priest. A round man in a long black cassock
And a snip view from mass of another priest plays shortly
My face turns green as my mood turns blue
He says he has a holy feeling, that the accusations aren’t true.
A cult; /kʌlt/ noun
‘a system of religious veneration and devotion directed towards a particular figure or object.’
We show our devotion, we kneel and give thanks
He applies lotion, looks at a child and wanks.
god
Everyone is entitled to their beliefs, and to the respect of those beliefs.
My belief is that no human is superior to another human.
A priest is only a man.
And this man in the long black cassock had a plan.
And this child will remain terrorized forever.
People should be held accountable for their actions.
Women’s lives are not to be of similar value to male satisfactions.
An article on ‘The year of ‘Times Up’ and ‘Me Too’ movements has been a dangerous year for men.’
Every year from the beginning of time has been a dangerous year for a woman.
Innocent men are not in danger.
I was sexualized and assaulted at the age of eleven. #MeToo
I wasn’t wearing a short skirt. I wasn’t drunk. I wasn’t provocative.
I was playing chase.
For years after that game of chase
I had nightmares featuring his face
This is not your place to say this year is dangerous, for men.
Times Up
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 3:48 PM UTC
it was a strange and fragile Kombination--
a desperate, lonely Hunger,
frenetic Thrill to sate--
we didn't speak each other's native Tongues
but Tongues we shared
in what we found, of random Meals,
and Pocket Lexika to taste
hidden Idioms we strove to understand..
our Bodies splashing Wasser
in the murky Spree, ******* Fountain by Berliner Dom
licking Lips of Bier und Eis a ways away from Reichstag Bullet Holes
below the steel Spirale encased in Glas
transparent Government--a Show for Tourist Stroll..
our Smiles glinting, coated international, that Week agreed
"eine schwester-bruder liebe.."
temptation--and propriety--preserved--
pale lotion, paler skin to honey in the sun
aloft in hostel bunks we shared--
a cush historic castle, touristische nook
of maps and candy pockets, so geil..
gleeful us, to melt from moscau and new york
we shared the deutsch between us,
ein bisschen englisch,
a bit of russisch too for fun...
our soulwise checkpoint charlie held the lust at bay
despite lustgarten romps
and walks beneath the lindens, lane of sighs..
an awkward bridge of question-words we built to muse about the stars
and what we see with only strangers never seen again.
we named ourselves an instant familie...so you could snore on me,
and let me stroke your hair
without the guilt of infidelity
the freedom from, we traded in our blatant,
goodbye tears you shed, i kept inside to craft mnemonic gems
i share and savor in again
'
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 8:56 PM UTC
Grime-caked fingers digging into
An infant’s innocent eye sockets
The chubby little **** shouldn’t be wearing that locket
No tears run their course down its soft, pink epidermis
But one could bottle up
The slightly thinning blood
Into a small
Thermos
I told that **** to get an abortion
My ******* ***** deserves better than her
I can’t stand the scent of baby lotion
I’ll go fishing with its flesh as lure
‘Cause I’m pro-choice
Yeah, I’m pro-choice
‘Cause I’m pro-choice
Yeah, I’m pro-choice
The wailing, ****** howl dies down
When the child’s trachea is crushed
By some hand-me-down, rusted hammer
That turns its body to mush
One could still see the baby’s frozen face
Open-mouthed and purple-blue
Spinning around the unwashed blender
With the previous night’s food
I told you to get a simple abortion
My ******* ***** deserves better than you
You better coat your putrid *** in baby lotion
And have some mouthwash ready, too
‘Cause I’m pro-choice
Yeah, I’m pro-choice
‘Cause I’m pro-choice
Yeah, I’m pro-choice
Mar 12, 2010
Mar 12, 2010 at 8:48 PM UTC
wrap them legs around my neck,
wrap my arms around your body, wanna keep u safe and curess your body. touch you like nobody else can,
pleasing you is always the plan nobody will ever get it or understand.
A boy and man are very different,
Only a real one will know the difference. I like the mix things up like a chemist. The chemistry be so strong .
Eat it like my last meal,
When it comes to you I always need a refill. Some say too much of anything isn't good but there's no such thing of having too much of you. baby I just can't get enough of you I want more and more of you.
I thought you knew . Ya blow my mind like some nicotine. It feels like a dream it can't be real . Talk to me baby let me know how u feel . You talk , I'll just listen. your beauty runs deeper than water in the ocean.
I wanna feel on you like some lotion. Mositurize your heart . Feed your appetite. Drink your juices. whatever this is I can't or don't wanna lose it.
Don't run I wanna taste you until you *** Dripping like sweat , you know you're the best. I'm blessed .
Dec 1, 2020
Dec 1, 2020 at 4:06 PM UTC
Polka Dot, Polka Dot, a one pony show
Strange name for a child, but she loves it so
Cheerful wee girl with sweet smile aglow
Adores all round shapes, expects you to know
Her twenty one garments sport assorted dots
Basic eight pairs of footwear, orange and green spots
Gaudy bows for her hair, with colored rings, lots
Dot sees spheres imbedded in her eyes and thoughts
Blankets and curtains, guess what, dots and lace
The spotted mouse toy for the cat to chase
Walls with orbs and specks on all space
In the right light they reflect on your face
Dot's off to school with a polka dot hat
Coat, umbrella with circles, imagine that
Polka dotted notebooks, pencils and backpack
Rides pink spotted two wheeler, parks in bike rack
Poor Polka Dot started feeling sickly ill
Sent to school nurse where she refused a pill
Saw the Doc, calamine lotion and advice to chill
Spots! Chickenpox! Polka Dots notable thrill
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 3:07 PM UTC
There are things that I think that I need
and things that I think I need but I actually just selfishly crave.
I don't know if it is the first or the latter, but I just want you to look at me.
Not just a passing glance, but really look at me;
see me for what I am and what I have to offer.
Look at my freckles and see more than freckles.
See the rain drops on the pavement,
the constellations and music notes.
Read my cheeks like sheet music.
Create a symphony out of those brown spots that all other men see as ordinary.
Touch my skin.
I never use enough lotion.
Do I need it?
Of course not.
My skin is softer than a mothers breast,
It can soothe you like cashmere.
It could ignite a hunger in you like the fuzz on a peach.
Take a bite.
I taste delicious
I know it.
But you don't know it.
You're starving and you don't even realize it.
You wouldn't know a good thing if it fell from heaven and hit you
square in the face.
I could be worth a million dollars,
I could be a movie star,
and still you would walk by like I am plain as a white brick wall with not an ounce of graffiti on it.
See me.
Let me in.
Let me fill you up,
let me call you home.
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 12:18 AM UTC