"moreish" poems
Forget the onion and all its layers
thats obvious
You are undeserving for such a cliché
So I invite a different perspective
Think of a base, flour and egg kneaded together like I need you,
so dense in identical morals
Folded with mirrored ideology of future fortuity
Dipped sensually with a sauce so thick,
Thicker than blood or water,
Blended as one to create a sea of red as deep as our hearts pumping vitality
Sprinkled softly with the most palatable, mouth watering mozzarella
Each placing full of utter affection,
Long lost stares while you sit innocent to me feasting my eyes upon your moreish persona.
The only quandry we must face is whose decision that day of toppings to showcase
Who gets the chance to tease additional flavours, delicious tasters
To open eyes to attributes unseen before,
Hopes set high to electrify taste buds
Wanting the other to crave more
Ingredients brought together for a flavoursome pizza
You are my hawaiian
As i,
Your meatfeast.
Opposing trimmings
Eachothers 1st choice
One anothers perfection to quench their dying hunger
Mar 2, 2019
Mar 2, 2019 at 12:05 PM UTC
Maybe
it's just the first time doing *******
in order to expand my horizons; gain perspective
in great company and knowing full well
the moreish nature, as it has been purported,
of such a vice;
but, you know what they say:
"When in Rome..."
but lest ye forget;
"Do or do not, there is no try"
all the while
still maintaining moderation,
partially by habit and partially by force,
for there is said to be
no such thing as quality
in that regard
from whence I come.
and thus, as if by providence,
"When in Rome.."
So,
'twixt that personally groundbreaking experience
plus lots of Caffeine and Alcohol
in some haphazard alchemical combination
helped Reno to be a good-ass time
on Halloween
after playing a sweet-ass Rock Bar
with some sweet-ass bands.
And, to boot,
having not slept,
this morning was a rude non-awakening,
as well as an ominous first day of November,
what with the LAX shooting;
our roadie and I watched it as it unfolded
with repetitive loops of footage
and dodgy claims with more qualifiers
than actual substantial language;
but the Media is just doing it's job as usual;
play on sensationalism
especially for ratings;
okay if profitable.
Needless to ******* say,
it's been a crazy ******* day.
Needless to ******* say,
it may be a crazy ******* month.
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 11:08 PM UTC
We drove the kids North East to
our adopted hinterland
of moreish moorland, the Brontes
heath and heather hiding-place,
near peacock splendid Castle Howard.
Town kids need more stimulation,
animal animation.
A newly opened zoo park
offered flamingos in the pink,
fapping, fluttering, squarking
round a stinking muddy pool.
We splashed about, rain soaked,
licking mud spiced ice creams,
shivering, slipping, thinking
it's what you try to do for kids.
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 6:11 AM UTC
It may be established,
as dull as the Amish
even nightmarish
but I want to publish.
It never seems boarish
The reading is moreish
in fact it, I would relish
the contracts most hellish.
I have just one wish,
and that is to publish
music to nourish
talent to astonish
and help it to flourish
and try to abolish
the commercialised anguish
Jan 4, 2012
Jan 4, 2012 at 11:51 AM UTC
Our love is like dark chocolate
Partially bitter and partially sweet
Never was it easy and never will it ever be
And yet it is nothing less than a moreish treat
A treat so tempting,
That I'd love to savor day and night
From the curves of your lips, I'll lick it up
As it would fall off with a drop of romance and delight
Jul 21, 2020
Jul 21, 2020 at 5:32 AM UTC
should the poles meet as often as they do?
if formed by hands on high,
why lay ecstasy and pain
as the first clay?
opposites
within the same woman,
the same flesh.
release me
from this poison ******
it is death.
surely, longevity passes over
those who submit
to its bitter tang,
the moreish pain
that lives beyond parting.
when the highs and lows
call a draw, where can
one turn?
I am defeated.
the game has won.
I can feel nothing alone.
where do i sign?
Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 12:17 PM UTC
You make me feel like a bad taste in your mouth.
The remnants of something delicious, gone bad.
Lingering too long: becoming a nuisance.
Staining the memory of what was once wonderful.
It seems as though you’re ready to wash your mouth out,
In preparation for your next meal.
Never to divulge in such a delicacy again.
Whereas the taste in my mouth is still sweet and tender, leaving me longing for more.
Oh, how I wish you weren’t so moreish.
How I wish you would spoil and grow repulsive,
Making me forget what I ever saw in you.
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 4:36 PM UTC