Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"mewl" poems
viewing naked body in mirror as if, its not my own; at my age I sometimes wonder, am I still desirable in his eyes? breast are firm, buttocks tight, shapely legs; thigh to ankle toned to wrap around his sinewy waist. belly flat, waist trim, he sneaks up behind; warm lips to nape, his subtle bait to taste me, it's never to late. tongue between breast, I know now as I gaze into those baby browns, I've found my answer. *** appeal is still renown, it shows in his eyes; as I sigh from his touch, ummm!! his lovings never too much. ******* taut from his touch, tongue upon belly and navel; laying on the table, flickers my jewel; making me mewl. purring like a kitten, lapping up my milk; tongue feels like silk, in and out licking; love how he keeps me ticking...yes!!! parting lips; warmly I dip, lightly I sip upon blooming mushroom; pulsating in reddened abloom, spillage slowly from his plume...sweet finger tracing veins poppin', allowing throb to easily drop in; nice and slow watching manhood grow like a framed Van Gogh...he flows ****** self-confidence I'm convinced watching him grow long and dense; taking in every inch, winching in delicious pleasure; his desired measure...sexually self-confident soaped and lathered in wetness
0
Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 2:55 AM UTC
Sexually Self-Confident
Let's all have a pity party I'll share with you all my laments Then you can croon your condolences So that the healing can commence Let's all share some sympathy And mewl and condescend Let's all feel better about ourselves At someone else's expense We'll be nice And give advice Convinced that we are ever so kind Our victim will be flattered by our attention By the fact that we took out the time Let's guilt them into forsaking their self worth And bend their will to suit our own We'll reduce them to the status of a begging dog And then we'll throw them a bone Individuality is to be abhorred As are the flaws in their body and face We have to all get together on this Someone's got to put them in their place Then we'll hang a sign around their neck Which reads "Don't Be Anything Like Me" This is turning out to be a great success What a grand ol' Pity Party!
0
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 1:11 AM UTC
Pity Party
The sleeping creature in my chest, The curled up cuddly fuzz-ball, Is feline, but no tame house cat. Is soft furred in rest, and porcupine quilled in anger. Her sharp teeth are usually hidden Behind adorable whiskers and damp pink nose. Sometimes her claws worry affectionately At my ribs for attention, Just so I don't forget she's there. Today she is mad, frenzied, Her proud cat dignity has vanished, she almost dances. She chases her tale like the simple fool she is not. She opens her mouth, not to bare her teeth, But to mewl a plea for a mysterious something. She buts her head against my heart again and again, Knocking it off rhythm, Rubbing it warmer with her fur, Batting it and chewing it like her new favourite toy, While I sweat And stammer And breathe too fast And beat too fast, And all for what? You gave me your hoodie. She caught one fragile whiff Of your vetiver tinted catnip scent.
0
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 2:34 PM UTC
A Metaphor For Why My Heart Skips Beats
It came like a sudden darkness, storming up and snuffing out the already fading light of dawn, When I found myself floating, above the ground suspended on the backs of blue clouds that kissed the purple sky like a clinging lover Chasing the movement of birds before my eyes I turned to stare down at the blackness beneath my toxic cloud of color, at the puke green sea covered in the orange foam of soda where what looked like the remnants of my breakfast that morning road the frothy waves. Pink, Pink Pepto-Bismol stained whales attacked the early air blowing bubbles filled with what looked like Oreo cream screaming happily the music of contentment A cry a loud mewling filled the acid induced happiness of the moment, yowling agonizingly, as if possessed by the spirit of pain itself. Thumping, Screeching clash and the ***** of nails had me blinking away from my floating tea party within the sky and looking rather questionably to the hunky dream boat pouring me a fresh glass of tea, His smile plastered by the very gods themselves didn't waver, and in my dreamlike stupor I thought nothing of it But the terrified yowling, hissing, strange purr-mewl didn't stop. The sky no longer a pleasant purple faded to a nasty shade of plum conjuring two disembodied chillingly green slated eyes Frantic with irrational fear I panicked falling off my blue cloud to plummet towards the angry green sea below Falling, Falling ever faster staring up at the sinister glowing ambient green eyes, whilst hearing that terrifying screeching yowl, from the Cheshire maw Slamming awake with the tingling sensation of a ghostly belly flop, I find myself still staring up at those eerie green eyes. This time surrounded by a flowing mane of toffee fur and speckled with tan zigzagging stripes of inky black, Buddy, with his demanding meow of attention, insistently pawing my forehead with the command of a gentle rub, Plucking my wings, and crippling me with a cuteness that only he can have.
0
Nov 21, 2012
Nov 21, 2012 at 4:17 PM UTC
A Dream
It came like a sudden darkness, storming up and snuffing out the already fading light of dawn, When I found myself floating, above the ground suspended on the backs of blue clouds that kissed the purple sky like a clinging lover Chasing the movement of birds before my eyes I turned to stare down at the blackness beneath my toxic cloud of color, at the puke green sea covered in the orange foam of soda where what looked like the remnants of my breakfast that morning road the frothy waves. Pink, Pink Pepto-Bismol stained whales attacked the early air blowing bubbles filled with what looked like Oreo cream screaming happily the music of contentment A cry a loud mewling filled the acid induced happiness of the moment, yowling agonizingly, as if possessed by the spirit of pain itself. Thumping, Screeching clash and the ***** of nails had me blinking away from my floating tea party within the sky and looking rather questionably to the hunky dream boat pouring me a fresh glass of tea, His smile plastered by the very gods themselves didn't waver, and in my dreamlike stupor I thought nothing of it But the terrified yowling, hissing, strange purr-mewl didn't stop. The sky no longer a pleasant purple faded to a nasty shade of plum conjuring two disembodied chillingly green slated eyes Frantic with irrational fear I panicked falling off my blue cloud to plummet towards the angry green sea below Falling, Falling ever faster staring up at the sinister glowing ambient green eyes, whilst hearing that terrifying screeching yowl, from the Cheshire maw Slamming awake with the tingling sensation of a ghostly belly flop, I find myself still staring up at those eerie green eyes. This time surrounded by a flowing mane of toffee fur and speckled with tan zigzagging stripes of inky black, Buddy, with his demanding meow of attention, insistently pawing my forehead with the command of a gentle rub, Plucking my wings, and crippling me with a cuteness that only he can have.
Continue reading...
17
1. There once was a couple of cats Who engaged in continuous spats.           The result was a tie           When each scratched out an eye – An old-Biblical *** for a tat! The cats awoke bleeding and weak And half-seeing the havoc they'd wreaked           They discarded their clothes,           Their backsides to expose – A new-Biblical turning of cheek! 2. There once was a man, oh so brave, Who would sleep in a hole, called a grave ...           Well, he being the host           To so many a ghost, He arranged a big bash, called a rave 3. In days of Neanderthal knaves When the men ruled like kings in their caves           And not being too keen           About keeping them clean ... Often took on some wives, called them slaves 4. There once was a man with a stave Overseeing a holy enclave ...           Well, maintaining a grin           While absolving the sin, He assessed wicked tales and forgave 5. There once was a monk with a wave Who desired a head with a shave ...           Well, the barber was such           That she cut back too much Thereby leaving his globus concave 6. There once was a man in the nave, Although pious he could not behave ...           But they paid him no mind,           ’Cause his name was maligned, Being simply a sinner to save 7. There once was a man quite depraved A voluptuous life was thus craved ...           Well, continuous sin           Ended doing him in – On his tombstone they carved ‘Misbehaved’ 8. Antoine is a Vampire Ghoul, Quite barbaric, bloodthirsty and cruel,           With a fang in your throat           He’ll **** slowly and gloat With a smile as you whimper and mewl. 9. There once was a raven haired Shrink Who had orange Juice Tequilas to drink.           Well her scarlet souled Beau           ****** her tinted red Toe And she paled when he tickled her Pink. 10. There once was a travelling sage Who yet lived to a very old age.           Well, becoming quite senile,           With problems (yes, ****** He packed his wee trunk in a rage. 11. There once was a Nun and a Druid Exchanging some ****** fluid,           When along strode the Father           Who heard all the bother, Lost stickum while coming  unglu..ed.
0
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 1:08 PM UTC
Lotsa Limericks... From Bad to Verse
1. There once was a couple of cats Who engaged in continuous spats.           The result was a tie           When each scratched out an eye – An old-Biblical *** for a tat! The cats awoke bleeding and weak And half-seeing the havoc they'd wreaked           They discarded their clothes,           Their backsides to expose – A new-Biblical turning of cheek! 2. There once was a man, oh so brave, Who would sleep in a hole, called a grave ...           Well, he being the host           To so many a ghost, He arranged a big bash, called a rave 3. In days of Neanderthal knaves When the men ruled like kings in their caves           And not being too keen           About keeping them clean ... Often took on some wives, called them slaves 4. There once was a man with a stave Overseeing a holy enclave ...           Well, maintaining a grin           While absolving the sin, He assessed wicked tales and forgave 5. There once was a monk with a wave Who desired a head with a shave ...           Well, the barber was such           That she cut back too much Thereby leaving his globus concave 6. There once was a man in the nave, Although pious he could not behave ...           But they paid him no mind,           ’Cause his name was maligned, Being simply a sinner to save 7. There once was a man quite depraved A voluptuous life was thus craved ...           Well, continuous sin           Ended doing him in – On his tombstone they carved ‘Misbehaved’ 8. Antoine is a Vampire Ghoul, Quite barbaric, bloodthirsty and cruel,           With a fang in your throat           He’ll **** slowly and gloat With a smile as you whimper and mewl. 9. There once was a raven haired Shrink Who had orange Juice Tequilas to drink.           Well her scarlet souled Beau           ****** her tinted red Toe And she paled when he tickled her Pink. 10. There once was a travelling sage Who yet lived to a very old age.           Well, becoming quite senile,           With problems (yes, ****** He packed his wee trunk in a rage. 11. There once was a Nun and a Druid Exchanging some ****** fluid,           When along strode the Father           Who heard all the bother, Lost stickum while coming  unglu..ed.
Continue reading...
71
become immovable, a wall of unimaginable strength too tall to see over and too wide to walk around. become undeniable; do not mewl, howl. become so vast you cannot be looked past, shoulders so broad you cannot be held with one arm. do not drown yourself in the tide of a man who would not **** on you if you were burning. cultivate a culture of talking back. cornering. countering. refusing and defying. become unwavering. become brave. become angry. become loud. not because you are bitter but because you deserve the things you've been denied. become immovable.
0
Oct 5, 2019
Oct 5, 2019 at 1:00 PM UTC
note to self
you have come to me, this early evening with a need, to worship at my ******* and who am i to deny a man, in his need you bare my udders to the world and sigh in adoration. before your thumbtip traces the bluevein river that arose during the suckling season, years ago and has never subsided you are fascinated by it for me it is a blemish upon the milky hills your where your fingertips trek and wander those same hills rise now to ripple and bump under your roving sheperding skin and your tongue asks, seeks, direction in the vale between with pressing lips and murmuring breath that thumb intrepid leader of the pack has  found a peak and with rubbing caress has claimed it for his own not to be outdone your lips grasp and flag the other one but be careful my wonderful mountaineers i feel an earthquake coming on as you quest and worship at the two peaked temple i  sigh and mewl and groan some goddess i am when i am the one who begs you the peon for mercy but soon the peon shall become the god and the goddess, a pilgrim. then i begin a  sacred sojuorn, in the southern regions as i  worship and love and own.
0
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 3:44 AM UTC
worship
When did my world become so small? Mine.. Who used to dance all night and chant to the dawn When did it become day to day and dose to dose? And why haven't I fought kicking and screaming at the unfairness When did the day lose its colour and music all sound so distant? It was not a sudden blitz attack but a cunning silent shadow and before I knew it the Pain was master here Where once there was Me with pain Now there is Pain with me Pain now rules all I do In sleep I cry and twitch and mewl So attractive my dear I don't remember that he asked to stay He has just waltzed in and stolen what was mine My days have lost their Beauty and I so dread the night No comfort there no respite no calm He controls my temper and the Joy in life My family long have given up How long can anyone really listen after all? So now He is visitor no longer He rides my shoulders and his spurs rend my back He shows no mercy and now there is no place of rest I am sure I would have fought Him off if He had only not been a coward , to sneak up on me like that Solita-2007
0
Mar 6, 2010
Mar 6, 2010 at 4:22 PM UTC
When did my world get so small?
The novelty of the young ewe Blinded by its fleece White is reflective of all colors Absorbent of none It stumbles about bleating Intent on its own way Falling in the crevice Thinking it's reached day But when the sun dips past the outcrop And daddy sheep is gone The little ewe will mewl again And Pappy wolf will come He knows the ropes And he's no vegetarian He ate knowledge So he could come again And he remembers How the sheep forgot him In their disorderly straying Old and young alike, claiming the right to rule the kingdom that is his And so with teeth he teaches them a lesson A few bright ones he shares his land with The rest are supper Now that's Nature
0
Sep 17, 2019
Sep 17, 2019 at 1:29 PM UTC
King Leowulf
i. the handcuffs my parents lost the keys to 24 years ago. i pray for them to eventually wear away from the weather. i pray for the break. my fingertips are sore from the pressure. my knees are sore from the ground quaking below. ii. the softness of light grey/white/ginger/dark grey up against my hand. there's a daughter cosmos in her mewl. iii. the ***** gaze at god i make as smoke leaves my lips. shot glasses clink against my eroded teeth and i hold back bile deep down in the rut of my stomach. i am ugliness to my mother. salvation is written between these walls and i must punch it out for the answers, hit by hit. iv. the 'baby, i care' from men older than me. this kind spins in circles. when i cry, i'm in downward dog. every. single. time.    v. the warm sunshine that radiates against my skin in the form of his kisses. i lay pallid without him here. sleep feels like a chore in these empty sheets. they fit like a glove to our form. peach cheeks accompany giggles. i linger in the moments where he says 'i love you'. this is the best kind.
0
Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 9:54 PM UTC
types of love
My life lacked purpose ‘fore the day we met Beneath the harvest moon you stood in wait Your eyes, bright amber, blinking large and wet I swooned at our encounter, called it fate, Your hair, it shimmered dark as blackest night You scorned me, yet I could not turn away When suddenly you took off in a flight, I swore that I would not be kept at bay Your silhouette now low against the ground, I squint to make you out in night’s dim haze Hear rapid patters as you tread around Your countenance a mirror of your ways When last I do approach, you hiss and mewl Alas, now to a cat I’ve played the fool!
0
Feb 14, 2024
Feb 14, 2024 at 12:50 PM UTC
Sonnet for a Fateful Encounter
It jumps along the clouded rows, two by two in sync Step by step it crouches down, waiting for its opportunity It scurries and jumps having a life of its own, as the light flickers on and off Never once stopping on its rampage. Creeping, sleuthing, mischievous in nature It runs amok, never faltering in its blurry stride Leaping, bounding, curious little thing It slowly dwindles down, pausing briefly in a haze. "Watch out!" It looks up warily "Go! Move!" It flickers briefly Then it sparks and resumes it tyrannic charade! Up and down, forwards and back, swishing too and fro It looks startled and never stops; will it ever slow? Left, right, and back again, kneeling to the ground It seems as if it wants out, this buggy little thing. It listens to the resonance, hearing the silence as if it speaks Booming, louder, LOUDER It grows and stills, bracing for impact Nothing, shadows, lapping at its feet Quiet, hush, do you hear it too? The rain that picks up beat? Feel the tempo, breath it in Embrace the pelting mewl Slowly, slowly, its starts to calm Reaching upwards Can you grasp it little thing? The moon the shines above. Stand up tall and take what's yours! A rustle, a sigh, "Are you there?" A flurry, a side-step, "Can you hear?" A mistake, too late, "Want to know?" A pounce, make haste, "The fool lies!" It stopped, this thing, that moved so fast It doesn't function, this thing, that's too bad Why did you stop mysterious thing? Was it the dark? Or was it fear? Wake up, wake up! Please wake up! I don't want to die yet...
0
Jul 6, 2011
Jul 6, 2011 at 7:44 PM UTC
Fear That Mimics
It jumps along the clouded rows, two by two in sync Step by step it crouches down, waiting for its opportunity It scurries and jumps having a life of its own, as the light flickers on and off Never once stopping on its rampage. Creeping, sleuthing, mischievous in nature It runs amok, never faltering in its blurry stride Leaping, bounding, curious little thing It slowly dwindles down, pausing briefly in a haze. "Watch out!" It looks up warily "Go! Move!" It flickers briefly Then it sparks and resumes it tyrannic charade! Up and down, forwards and back, swishing too and fro It looks startled and never stops; will it ever slow? Left, right, and back again, kneeling to the ground It seems as if it wants out, this buggy little thing. It listens to the resonance, hearing the silence as if it speaks Booming, louder, LOUDER It grows and stills, bracing for impact Nothing, shadows, lapping at its feet Quiet, hush, do you hear it too? The rain that picks up beat? Feel the tempo, breath it in Embrace the pelting mewl Slowly, slowly, its starts to calm Reaching upwards Can you grasp it little thing? The moon the shines above. Stand up tall and take what's yours! A rustle, a sigh, "Are you there?" A flurry, a side-step, "Can you hear?" A mistake, too late, "Want to know?" A pounce, make haste, "The fool lies!" It stopped, this thing, that moved so fast It doesn't function, this thing, that's too bad Why did you stop mysterious thing? Was it the dark? Or was it fear? Wake up, wake up! Please wake up! I don't want to die yet...
Continue reading...
41
When did my world become so small? Mine.. Who used to dance all night and chant to the dawn When did it become day to day and dose to dose? And why haven't I fought kicking and screaming at the unfairness When did the day lose its colour and music all sound so distant? It was not a sudden blitz attack but a cunning silent shadow and before I knew it the Pain was master here Where once there was Me with pain Now there is Pain with me Pain now rules all I do In sleep I cry and twitch and mewl So attractive my dear I don't remember that he asked to stay He has just waltzed in and stolen what was mine My days have lost their Beauty and I so dread the night No comfort there no respite, no calm He controls my temper and the Joy in life My family long have given up How long can anyone really listen after all? So now He is visitor no longer He rides my shoulders and his spurs rend my back He shows no mercy and now there is no place of rest I am sure I would have fought Him off if He had only not been a coward , to sneak up on me like that Solita-2007
0
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 3:49 PM UTC
When did my world get so small
try hard as we might there was no ignoring the scratching coming from the walls and there was no reckoning to be had with the things crawling on our skin but we laid there together all we had each other and my arm was around you and your head was on my chest as you softly slept and in your dreams the storm must've turned the scratching of the things finding its way through the tempest inside and i heard you start to mewl and whine and cry out from the dark place down where your dreaming had taken you and so i raised my hand from its home on your hip and softly smoothed your hair away from your troubled beautiful face so near to mine and i cupped your head gently and i loved you and you were quiet again and everything was perfect
0
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 4:25 PM UTC
Centurion
deep in primal perceptions soft mews interrupt but the dragon barely moves only raising an eyelid slightly the creature is too insignificant to make a decent meal he continues considering the power of flame and all the cautionary uses thereof then again,mew mew mewl a fuzzy face looks up to the scaly toothy maw that yawns long and lets out a deep breath the kitten makes a face and sneezes the bemused beast chortles stretching claws to pick it up high the kitten has no fear responding with an indignant MEW! the aged dragon considers and places it by his sinewy tail wrapping around the soft fur then finishing considerations he falls asleep to a subtle purr
0
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 10:52 PM UTC
Fur And Scales
The window's cracked a bit some cat had given out a lonely mewl and I decided to hear his swan-song I figure he's probably just teary-eyed bout some girl stood him up. We're both creatures of the night, things dracula turns into when he gets tired of people calling him a monster which I suppose he is, really. There's an owl in the spruce tree across the street. I can hear him belt the blues if I quit fidgeting long enough I wonder if they're listening to me too while I click-clack out the window trying to find some rhythm in the madness sing on, boys. I'll be the percussionist and you can riff all you want nevermind the errors, we'll just tell the naysayers that jazz isn't supposed to have rules.
0
Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 1:15 PM UTC
Jazz Trio
oh woe is me!!! have pity, cruel and heartless world. the sky now fallen. my sadness, unfurled. i sail, upon a ship of abject misery. i sit at the helm and weep and cry  and moan and mewl til, my eyes have run out of  wet, n' salted fuel. now, those who know me, are wondering why, me, who writes happiness. is having a hysterical cry. if i can but, bring myself, to tell you why,  you must be generous, of heart, and not say fie. my big, catastrophe, bigger than you know. is a death, in the family... they have lingered long and been, a dear friend. but this morning i went to see them and they were gone!! and oh dear me! what an embarassing end... it is,sad, beyond,sad. i cannot tell a lie. here its is....  in all it's badness: MY JEANS DONE DIED (pause now for a sobbing, dramatic.....sigh!!!) now you have finished laughing at me i will explain why, this is, not a matter for disdain..... i have/had this pair, of favourite, faded, blue,white jeans. had them long enough, that they had done, the complete circle and come back into fashion.... had them longer than, my child, my husband, my car, my present job.  they knew me, so well and so comfortable too. i went to wear them, this morning, as a pick me up treat.... (cause to be honest, been feelin kinda beat) and lo and behold, they fell apart, at my feet the crotch, had frayed away and if i had worn them, my smalls and privates, would be saying a cheeky, g'day.... so i am sad  and an old friend has departed.  but at least it happened in private  and not at work, when i farted.... i tonight, will give them, a burial, tried and true in the duster bin... and then drink to them, with tonic and gin. fare thee well, my faithful, denim friend. and consider this to be... your heartfelt eulogy
0
Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 9:02 AM UTC
oh woe!
oh woe is me!!! have pity, cruel and heartless world. the sky now fallen. my sadness, unfurled. i sail, upon a ship of abject misery. i sit at the helm and weep and cry  and moan and mewl til, my eyes have run out of  wet, n' salted fuel. now, those who know me, are wondering why, me, who writes happiness. is having a hysterical cry. if i can but, bring myself, to tell you why,  you must be generous, of heart, and not say fie. my big, catastrophe, bigger than you know. is a death, in the family... they have lingered long and been, a dear friend. but this morning i went to see them and they were gone!! and oh dear me! what an embarassing end... it is,sad, beyond,sad. i cannot tell a lie. here its is....  in all it's badness: MY JEANS DONE DIED (pause now for a sobbing, dramatic.....sigh!!!) now you have finished laughing at me i will explain why, this is, not a matter for disdain..... i have/had this pair, of favourite, faded, blue,white jeans. had them long enough, that they had done, the complete circle and come back into fashion.... had them longer than, my child, my husband, my car, my present job.  they knew me, so well and so comfortable too. i went to wear them, this morning, as a pick me up treat.... (cause to be honest, been feelin kinda beat) and lo and behold, they fell apart, at my feet the crotch, had frayed away and if i had worn them, my smalls and privates, would be saying a cheeky, g'day.... so i am sad  and an old friend has departed.  but at least it happened in private  and not at work, when i farted.... i tonight, will give them, a burial, tried and true in the duster bin... and then drink to them, with tonic and gin. fare thee well, my faithful, denim friend. and consider this to be... your heartfelt eulogy
Continue reading...
70
oh woe is me!!! have pity, cruel and heartless world. the sky now fallen. my sadness, unfurled. i sail, upon a ship of abject misery. i sit at the helm and weep and cry and moan and mewl, til, my eyes have run out of wet, n' salted fuel. now, those who know me, are wondering why, me, who writes happiness. is having a hysterical cry. if i can but, bring myself, to tell you why, you must be generous, of heart, and not say fie. my big, catastrophe, bigger than you know. is a death, in the family... they have lingered long and been, a dear friend. but this morning i went to see them and they where gone!! and oh dear me! what an embarassing end... it is, sad, beyond, sad. i cannot tell a lie. here its is.... in all it's badness my jeans done died
0
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC
sad....and blue
Took, passing, as my chosen word a comfort-food of preference, celestial confectionery, indulgent mewl of movement. It's a prudent lie I stir myself this spoon of porch-light parable, a home-brewed benediction simpers, intimate angelica infallible as love....
0
Nov 23, 2019
Nov 23, 2019 at 2:48 AM UTC
Consolamentum
Wrapped in my cape, adoring my princely crown, as I command my subjects who purr and roll around. Lazily the ***** of fluff proclaim my greatness as loyal subjects the adore me and show me adoration as I make proclamations of great importance. In sequence they mewl and rub my legs and feet one by one. Awaiting my command or at least a treat to make them full. So on I go surveying my subjects, as each sits before me feasting on a bowl of gratitude. A feast set before those who are loyal to me, as there prince. The divine cats of my realm, who show loyalty every time they are fed by me.
0
Feb 28, 2016
Feb 28, 2016 at 8:25 PM UTC
Prince Of The Divine Cats
⚠Trigger Warning: the following poem contains religious allusions that some might find offensive⚠ Memories belittled by dust, preserved, taxidermal fashion inside an anthology of vintage photographs. Though, I am aware that   "vintage" is only a euphemism   for a possession that was once beautiful.   Your treason has turned all the photographs ugly,   their corners curling up   like the spiral of a chameleon's tail.   Vivacious colours devolve into lacklustre,   sepia tones, blending in with   the palette of my surrounding melancholy.   Ensnared in a dilemma:   Do I miss you?   or   Do I hate you?   (perhaps a bit of both, but never I love you-- not anymore.)   Apertures mewl, bruising the gallery walls with tears.   I frame your betrayals with gold and garlands of daisies in an attempt to soften   our past   (it never works).   These vacant hallways trap your phantom footprints beneath the cobblestone.   Was it really   such a guiltless task   to walk away from me? Embedded   across the rungs of my spine are the scuff marks   from where you wiped the dirt   off your boots only after wrenching the welcome mat from underneath me.   I have accepted that our friendship was merely transactional to you;   I served up   all the love I had to   give like John the Baptist's head was served up upon a silver platter.   You feasted   while I starved.   Yet, full is this menagerie of lost things.   I know I should burn   the polaroids in the name of closure.   Perhaps I am just afraid there will be no art-- no poetry-- left to sculpt from the cinders that remain.
0
Apr 23, 2020
Apr 23, 2020 at 9:12 PM UTC
When the Shutterbug is Squashed Beneath Your Heel
⚠Trigger Warning: the following poem contains religious allusions that some might find offensive⚠ Memories belittled by dust, preserved, taxidermal fashion inside an anthology of vintage photographs. Though, I am aware that   "vintage" is only a euphemism   for a possession that was once beautiful.   Your treason has turned all the photographs ugly,   their corners curling up   like the spiral of a chameleon's tail.   Vivacious colours devolve into lacklustre,   sepia tones, blending in with   the palette of my surrounding melancholy.   Ensnared in a dilemma:   Do I miss you?   or   Do I hate you?   (perhaps a bit of both, but never I love you-- not anymore.)   Apertures mewl, bruising the gallery walls with tears.   I frame your betrayals with gold and garlands of daisies in an attempt to soften   our past   (it never works).   These vacant hallways trap your phantom footprints beneath the cobblestone.   Was it really   such a guiltless task   to walk away from me? Embedded   across the rungs of my spine are the scuff marks   from where you wiped the dirt   off your boots only after wrenching the welcome mat from underneath me.   I have accepted that our friendship was merely transactional to you;   I served up   all the love I had to   give like John the Baptist's head was served up upon a silver platter.   You feasted   while I starved.   Yet, full is this menagerie of lost things.   I know I should burn   the polaroids in the name of closure.   Perhaps I am just afraid there will be no art-- no poetry-- left to sculpt from the cinders that remain.
Continue reading...
80