"melty" poems
What I miss mostabout New Yorkis pizzawarm, melty, tangy cheesewith **** tomato essense dripping out of the sideand the garlic! i could ward worse than vampires away with it!Don't get me wrongthere is pizza in ScotlandBut it just isn't the same as pizza from New York
Feb 26, 2010
Feb 26, 2010 at 1:00 PM UTC
Don't forgive me because I cried
Don't forgive me "even though" I lied
Don't forgive me because I'm a kid
Don't forgive because you could've done what I did
Allow me to face my consequences
Let me adapt to my circumstances
Don't allow me my relapses
Let me feel guilt in my synapses
Please don't forgive me because I apologized
Please don't forgive unless I realized
The wrongs I did
And the wrongs I said
The crimes I hid
And the crimes I fed
Please don't forgive me
Because I seem to feel guilty
Please don't forgive me
Because my eyes went all "melty"
Please don't forgive me
Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 10:28 AM UTC
I like candy and popcorn and pizza
and macaroni and cheese
but I LOVE chocolate.
Its so sweet and melty
it tastes so dreamy!
I like the white chocolate,
and milk chocolate
and I love dark chocolate.
Chocolate is wonderful because
there's so many kinds.
Yummy pudding
and cool icecream
and they even make chocolate astronot icecream
which is good because it doesn't melt.
I feel bad for my dog because she cant have any.
I wish I could have more!
If I only could eat one thing for the rest of my life
it would be yummy, creamy, sweat, dreamy CHOCOLATE!
Jul 5, 2012
Jul 5, 2012 at 9:11 AM UTC
dealer looks at me
he makes time stand still
drilling through the barren sea I call my face
and I can tell he knows, just how much like jelly
my bones become with him standing there and how melty
the wasteland I call my heart gets: a phenomenon Id call unsafe and self betraying.
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 11:15 PM UTC
First time, commercial coffee shop
overindulgence, over laden with portfolio,
books, purse, and now cup: underdressed.
Far too few layers for a
shower of cotton *****
sticking to eye-lashes and hair.
Journeying from coffee shop
to bus stop; urban miles away.
piles of melty cotton *****
grab at my inappropriate shoes.
Too much milk and water
turn me off to Christmas in a cup
so I stick out my tongue
and allow my taste buds a play date with Jack Frost instead.
A lifetime away
a new place with new playmates.
This time leaves and stinky berries
push me on to my destination.
A new coffee shop with bells on the door
boasts bashfully of the same overindulgence.
This one small, cozy like
a thrift store couch or kittens.
Community and friendship present
me with that first cup of Christmas.
Someone from that other world
whispers the memory to me.
Again, my tongue
experiences the most joy on this memory experience.
Feb 1, 2010
Feb 1, 2010 at 4:56 PM UTC
A false friend
Such a contradiction
Either false
Or friend
Choose wisely
If friend is your choice
You may have my life
I would lay it down for you
But if you choose false
Never will we recover
No matter if you change your mind
Its over
I'm not so harsh
I simply refuse
To take you back
I won't be used
Such a fragile melty thing
An icicle
Holding the ability
To stab you in the heart
Or dissolve
Nourishing delicate new life
Be cold
Keep to yourself
You won't melt
Just stay eternally the same
As for me
I will melt gladly
If another needs me
How could I deny them?
Feast on winter
Frozen wind
I'm waiting for spring
Warm breezes dance on my skin
Inside the icicle you will forever stay
While I embrace renewal
It's new to me
But change always is
Have you ever tried it?
Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 1:13 PM UTC
I held the last piece of
Dark chocolate in my hand,
Preparing myself mentally for my
Last chance at delectable,
And as I popped the
Morsel in my mouth,
Its melty coating dissolving into
My tongue,
I heard the bag crinkle,
And I looked down to find
A sugar-coated surprise,
One bite remaining when I
Had thought that that hope had
Melted away,
And boy did it taste
Sweet.
Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 3:57 PM UTC
In the blackness of the darkest hour
I felt his arms tight around my waist
Loosening as they drew nearer towards by stretched
Naked, fevered neck
His stars all bolted my nerves to the bottom of my feet
Stuck like pink bubble gum, melty and stringy
Like 97 degrees
His sweet breath grazed by cooled, burning cheeks
His touch reminded be of swimming under the moon of
The darkest hour
Freely
Wildly
I drink in his laughter
It trembles the pads of my fingers
Shattering my vision all over again
I wait for him on the loneliest nights, when
Rusted wheels of cargo trains roll in, tight and full of history
The neighborhoods won't quit, even when the day does
He's always there
Nonchalantly kicked up against some shiny car, titled to another
He's wearing his darkest jeans and his James Dean smirk today
I slurp it up
Soak it in like he belongs to me
Like I belong to him
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 7:18 PM UTC
It wasn't a peak on the your upper lip,
or a little smooch to tell that we were a couple,
it was sort of ...
intimate.
Like we were supposed to do this,
have a moment to make this what we had to be real,
to show the world that love kind of exists in a way.
In short,
our first kiss was real.
It was hot and melty,
warm and intoxicating,
I was in love with how you bit my lip
and tugged at my lower lip,
like you knew that's how I liked it.
I was wildly impressed with this,
sense you don't seem to be the type of person
to be a little wild.
Hmmm... when I think of it now,
this doesn't feel like our first.
I feel like I'v kissed you before,
but I think not with my lips.
I think our first was when we first met,
when our eyes met for the first time.
you took me your arms one time,
and I felt warm inside
like I was supposed to be there
with you.
And you wrapped yourself into me and we just was still,
like everything was frozen in time.
Our moments told the future of
what would become of us,
of what we would be in our lives,
how we would mean so much soon,
and how much I would love you
and how much you love me.
Even now,
when we touch in the littlest of ways,
I feel so beautiful,
so wonderfully touched by your soul
and where we have gone into the world.
I love you
and our first and second kiss .
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 5:17 PM UTC
My heart is so warm right now
like a toasty marshmallow
all brown and melty
slumping to one side.
Part of me wants more
like a piercing light saber
my desire increases tenfold
three red shafts throbbing
extremely hard and ready to go
when my nostrils take in
your sweet scent. It's nice like
honey baked bread fresh
from the oven or soft like green litchen moss with warmth radiating while watching
Star Wars: The Force Awakens
(again) while cuddling you
letting your body heat fold over me so neat like someone cranked open
a portable blow torch and
started blowing my frozen heart wide open with orange flames
thawing it to room temperature.
Now a tiny piece of pink remains peeking shyly at you in the dark
precariously dangling its delicate
frailty like soft woven spider lace.
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 2:42 PM UTC
He came to my house
Wearing his dark jacket and
Cold fingers
With no prior notice.
The doorbell echoed at
Nine oh six
And my mom said she'd get it.
I was watching Netflix
And shoveling semi-melty
Ice cream into my mouth.
He said hi to my mom
And he rushed up the stairs
Into my laundry-flooded bedroom
He wrapped his arms around me
So tight that I wasn't keen to let go.
He smelled like bitter outside
And broken trees
And choking regret.
I smelled like
Fake roses
And ***** pajamas
That were freshly cried into.
My shirt sleeves were wet.
When he kissed me,
I tasted like
The aftermath of
Black cherries
And sad music.
He tasted like love.
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 9:32 PM UTC
And I think I should say
I did not find God, today.
I'm being told that my mind
isn't considered right and that
I will always lose the fight
that is life.
I think I should melt away
with the tangerine dusk;
float away with the
copper-colored dust.
And I shouldn't be mourned
or become a chore to the
people I should have warned:
I am a Godless void, ruined by
my own mindless self-indulgence.
For what it's worth,
it no longer hurts or can
be mistaken for
something bigger
for our Lord.
Maybe I should find a
Texas hole to melt inside;
a place to rest my burden,
fall apart and die.
Jan 7, 2017
Jan 7, 2017 at 12:09 PM UTC
that one time, unsurpassed
at first, white
coral fountains drizzling
spring cotton, pink
candy dye
blushed
on stain
capped champagne
jackknife popped
fizzled soda
drop
the last
sweet, melty flavored
slink...
Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 1:14 PM UTC
Time stood stagnant as the darkness crept in and distorted surroundings faded
He thought about his first friend, how they’d met
On a beach collecting eponymous Herman ***** by the bucket-full
Her face and name were gone, but she was born August twelfth
His first ice cream cone, the way the green mint melty soup
Ran down his hand; he hated sticky fingers
The comfort in his veins made him cloudy, the track on his inner arm throbbed
He thought about the bully who’d beaten him senseless
For spilling lunch milk on his shoes
And that girl whose clumsiness he’d claimed as his own
Who’d watched without a word and like all left him loner
He remembered his excitement at the first patch of beard
And how he’d stopped going to church when his brother
Finally left that chair and learned to fly
His eyes now drooped to poppy slits, but the flashes were ever blasting
He thought about sleep, his sweet retreat always
And what it was like to have had a family
He remembered a lecture from a physics professor
About chess and universe particles
The eternal contained in the tangible
Infinity carved from wood
The sideways eight ways in which one can be a mortal
And how everything ends the same
The branches become the seed
Can it all be so simple, he wondered
As the apartment floor grew distant
He thought of all the times he’d ****** up
And how in his rearview mirror, he wanted to
Embrace those moments, love them and
Ask them to be godparents to his unborn life
As he kissed the light goodnight, his only regret was
Having so many
He thought of everything
Then
He thought nothing
Mar 14, 2012
Mar 14, 2012 at 6:16 PM UTC
Ever densest now,
Now, a humid haze
Scenes and stages
A VHS - the joy of painting
A DVD - it's the one with Ross and Rachel
I know it, I've seen it before
I haven't, but I know
A laugh track thuds against the humming air conditioner
It's sort of melty
Warm gummies
Adhesive on someone's fingers
It tingles - unpleasant
Water is away, and just as warm
The couch doesn't yield
Feb 4, 2021
Feb 4, 2021 at 6:30 PM UTC
Last Wednesday I watched the first snowflakes fly
as I stood on a porch smoking yet another cigarette.
As each tiny, intricate crystal hit the ground and met its melty fate
I remember sending up a silent plea that this winter wouldn't bury me just like the last.
I stand braced for the cold,
holding my breath with the hope that
once I let it out there will be more to follow.
This season banks snow right up against the main doors leading to the warm parts of my heart.
All I can hope for is sufficient energy to shovel myself out from under
the crushing weight of the dark days
and snow laden road ways.
watching the winter arrive reminds me that I have a
long,
cold,
grueling
battle against myself coming right this way.
A part of me begs myself to hibernate...
to just sleep late into spring.
Instead I must prepare myself,
eyes wide,
Because trying to stop my winter is like
trying to hold back the tide.
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 1:58 PM UTC
Today,
I did nothing of much importance.
Just listened to some of my favourite tunes,
and ate a tasty lunch.
Thought of a few late retorts
that would have been useful
in an argument I had weeks ago.
Watched the pattern on the floor
made by the fractured sunlight
through the cracks in my window.
Hugged my little sister for a long time
then we talked about useless stuff
and laughed a lot.
Stubbed my toe against the furniture,
used some colourful language.
Had some melty ice cream.
Freaked out a little bit
about my life
and it’s lack of direction.
Shrugged it off
and had another scoop.
Today,
I didn’t get any work done.
Today was a filler day
But today I had some fun.
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 2:33 PM UTC
the tinkling kiss,
tween silver bell
and the windowed door,
at the ice cream store,
announces with the delight of
a tingling excite
a novitiate,
a well scrubbed innocente,
a suckering, youthful customer
has entered the store
all the ice cream poems stand up straight,
paying cold attention,
the little boy ones,
fix their crookedly crooked bow ties,
the little girl ones,
pat down their crinkly crinolines,
all best behavior-ed,
shivering cold from hot anticipation,
the idea, the conception
of becoming
the chosen one,
invited outside,
for delight,
the pleasure of melting into
sweet, sad loving death,
in the smiling mouth
of a young fan & reader
now, they all know the rules,
no calling out!
just stand in frozen attention,
glistening, shimmering,
displaying their true coloration,
hoping to be the selected election
but that rascally bad boy,
with salty language,
yes, the salty caramel one,
can, in his over-sized container,
no longer can contain himself,
screaming out
with an aura of entitlement
*"pick me, pick me,"
read me, eat me,*
favor my flavor"
all thirty one flavors,
one for every day of the month,
start to shout,
like a raucous caucus
of politicians huffing and puffing,
wheezing and whining,
pretend crying
for the favored blessing of your vote,
*"pick me, pick me,"
read me, eat me,*
favor my flavor"
there is even a
"flavor of the day,"
usually a newly minted green poet,
a chipped one,
seeking to find a permanent home
for its fresh faced tasty, word sensation,
but after thousands of plastic spoon samplings,
nonetheless melty-dies in the corner, alone and forgotten,
for fame is fleeting, and not always long term good eating
so many to choose, got the poetic ice cream blues,
sweet slow aching of loving infatuation for the iceiest of
tongued-licking caressing, the only way to be consumed
organically
*"pick me, pick me,"
read me, eat me,*
favor my flavor"
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 5:23 PM UTC
touch
smooth
sandy
bumpy
spungy
sight
brown
yellow
sugary
choclate
smell
delisious
surgary
choclate
taste
melty
choclatey
delisios
sweet
niose
crunchry
snap
sqiush
munch
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 4:34 PM UTC
Chasing camels knowing nothing
Faded, crossing the grass!
Dollar signs in my hair, nothing nothing, despair
Something sweeps along!
Pirates (become) cool again, kingdoms crossing dens
I wonder what keeps you afloat!
In the end however
You shall ought to ought discover
You better pay attention
Cause those wallabies won’t be merciful today
An hundred ***** dozen
The earth’s cosmic crap
Don’t worry about a thing
Let it all hang out loose
The floating desert above my window
Seeing cacti from miles around
That melty feeling in the floor
Buddy, buddy, buddy, buddy
Cortisone, Caroline, chlamydia
Ryan Reynolds’ ***** fat old swine
Never letting go of this once-ward prime
Purple moles with drills on their heads
Green dotty daughters of pinkness concoction
Creation of the nullness of the black thing-a-mah-bob
Relapse and relax, do your slam thing.
Dec 27, 2017
Dec 27, 2017 at 8:02 AM UTC
it wouldn’t have been as stunning,
the sun in it’s witness.
it would have been cunning
if the wings coyed flightless.
but a cloud blanketed today,
a lost ambition within bare arms,
black waiting water her
fascination’s prey.
the smell of seagrasses,
the smell of foulness,
life leaving room for death’s anchor-
the spurned sun.
if it weren’t for you
I’d kept away.
if it weren’t for you
I’d remembered
to keep in-between being
wet and melty and
forsaken.
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 10:36 PM UTC
a sweater wearing a beer bottle
floorboard lighter
good freeways
leave it alone, the wood grain wasn't meant for this
watered down and melty
maybe these ears aren't mine but i know they hurt
yell in my ear matthew it'll feel better
i love you honeypot
Aug 23, 2016
Aug 23, 2016 at 2:02 AM UTC
The house smells wonderful,
Golden and buttery as this morning’s delicious sunrise on our front porch,
And your eyes twinkle as I venture a first bite.
“Pretty good, right?”
It’s a quesadilla and it’s perfect,
exactly to my preference.
Warmly brown and crisp on the outside,
Cold sour cream mingling with too much hot melty cheese and chicken and all the fixins.
A real knock out as far as quesadillas go.
I smile with my eyes and happily munch,
not especially hungry but I know you are.
You spoke this into existence,
A master of your own love language.
In many ways, I am fed.
.
Ingratitude does not become us;
I eat of your hand and rejoice the offering
As my brain whispers:
“My love, please leave me to myself.”
These days I am as two ships passing,
So rare an hour is it to shake my own hand,
Cull my own thoughts,
Breathe my silent breath unaccompanied.
Spinning sugar and spinning wheels are my god-given gifts.
I use the first to coat my tongue.
The second hangs in the air between us.
“Better than good,” I say,
Moving to rest,
To dream my silly dreams,
To paint my silly heart across the mercurial landscape of shared memory.
I am my best when I end my days like a spoiled Pomeranian:
Seated on a cushion
Worrying a bone.
.
The mysterious clicking and clacking of the HVAC tip taps merrily to the rush and whir of the electric heat.
The impression of a kiss still lingers on my cheek
In the quiet.
The house smells wonderful,
Golden and buttery as this morning’s delicious sunrise on our front porch.
It is a miracle to build a structure with your bare hands that bends without breaking,
and supports your weight without shaking.
Dec 22, 2024
Dec 22, 2024 at 10:15 PM UTC
Sundrops and melted hearts
fill the streets in their empty parts
where the asphalt starts to tear and break
the melty bits fix the mistake
And flowerbeams and rainbow-daggers
launch attacks until sadness staggers
clutching at a mortal head-laceration
the tears have now left the station
So it is that on a sunny day
A funny day, a Mon-i-day
The good bits make better
The cheeks that were wetter
When good thoughts had all gone away
Oct 10, 2019
Oct 10, 2019 at 11:37 PM UTC