"peppermints" poems
I can say definitively
and without reservation
that I once had more to say
and once I said it well
The taste of the words
of the children in flux
the ex-children
the children in recovery
leaves an aftertaste of
sweetness I can mimic
but cannot make my own
though I know I have
the recipe
somewhere
Their words tumble
like dusty pebbles racing
downhill rebellious
ebullient and unruly
avalanches to ants
while mine drag
the feet of their tiny
y's and g's
p's and q's
like rainy-day-slogged
future people
wending their way through
weeds and reeds of
bullies and written responses
The taste of the words
of the newly-minted
suddenly people
with centuries-old ideas
cellophane gift-wrapped for their
daily birthdays
beribboned and bowed for
kindergarten picture day
leaves a memory of
butterscotch and peppermint I can imagine still
but cannot make my own
though I know I have
the recipe
somewhere
Mar 19, 2012
Mar 19, 2012 at 8:58 PM UTC
Lord,
let me choke on a chocolate bar
or drown in an ocean of honey
that those who grieve my loss may say,
"His passing was tragic - but funny."
Then lay me out in a caramel coffin
with a marshmallow pillow 'neath my head.
Dress me in garments of butterscotch
and I shall eat sugar the days I am dead.
Tuck some toffees into my pocket
plus a few peppermints (for my breath...).
Put a raisinette rosary in my fingers.
I'll sleep in a sweet diabetic death.
When I draw near to the pearly gates,
St. Pete, greet me with Hershey in hand.
Give me my harp and halo of licorice.
I'll enter the promised Candyland.
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 1:36 PM UTC
Want you please speak to me in the 60's
In far out psychedelic rhymes
Take a ride beside the blacklight
On the Velvet Underground
Wake me up with the Strawberry Alarm Clock
Serving incense and peppermints in bed
Fixing a hole where the rain gets in
As the 60's flood my head
Walk with me through Asbury
With a flower child in hand
Listening to the groovy tunes
Of Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band
Hang out with the hippies
Before Monterey goes pop
As they fly like butterflies
At the moment the acid drops
Want you please speak to me in the 60's
In the innocence of peace and love
Back then we all had our share
But is there ever really enough?
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 9:31 PM UTC
The sun dips over the horizon.
Beginning its' rise.
Alarm 1... Grudgingly greeted
With a fist.
Alarm 2... Mama waking me.
3... Me waking you.
Early morning songbirds whistling their tune.
Gospel dimly transient from the far let room.
Pancakes, eggs, bacon, and grits on the stove.
OJ and milk sits for the kids,
While coffee brews for the adults.
Early morning chatter.
Sounds like shoe laces and belt buckles.
Tooth brushes and hair brushes
Frantic in pace.
Traffic
Back and forth, up and down
While we,
Barely awake.
White Cadillacs, Lincoln's, and Oldsmobiles
With the beige and burgundy rag tops.
Reminds me of Granny's car.
4 in the back
3 in the front.
With room to spare.
Red lights and stop signs.
Peppermints and tootsie rolls.
Meijer.
So we're halfway there.
Slanted park job in the lot.
High heels and Stacy Adams
Clash the cement.
Like soldiers
We march in
Just in time for praise.
Cheerful smiles and warm greetings.
Some real.
Some fake.
We sit.
And now
We pray.
Thank you Lord
For this day.
The sun is up
Such as our faith.
Our health is good
Our love is strong
So thank you Lord
For this lasting bond.
We nap.
We chat.
We clap.
We praise.
We jump.
We shout.
We cry.
We raise
And benedict.
Home for dinner.
*** roast and corn.
Sweet potatoes and greens.
Kids playful in their youth
Adults lively in their jeans.
We sit.
Thank you for this food
We are about to receive
For the nourishment of our bodies
In Jesus' name
We pray.
Amen.
We eat and enjoy each others company
No conversation needed.
Just the sound of good food.
The feeling of love.
The sun
Setting in the window.
It's almost time for rest.
I can't wait until next Sunday.
The weekend might be over
But the love,
The memories
Are the best I've ever had.
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 11:06 PM UTC
When life becomes agonizing
When time is filled with pain and reliving pain
Remember today..this day
Remember to eat peppermints to stop the sirens of trouble and slow your racing heart
Remember the gentle sound of birds singing on a summer afternoon
Remember how much you love milkshakes
And how you were feeling ok when you wrote this
Remember you are really a good person
Remember you are learning life just like everyone else
Remember how great it feels to finish something
Remember
To take a deep breath every now and then
Remember how much you love a cool shower
And how natural your body feels when clean
Remember to take an interest in others and how they are
We all have a cross to bare
Remember good things do happen
and remember no one is perfect
Remember when life becomes agonizing
You cannot force anyone to love you
And you cannot be forced to love yourself
But
remember
You decided that
Being a survivor wasn’t what you SHOULD, or HAVE to do
You decided that
It’s what you WANT to be
Remember you WANT to live
From A Survivor
Jun 22, 2010
Jun 22, 2010 at 10:51 AM UTC
caramel oozing from the center
caressing the taste buds
crunchy honey comb
creating a whole of mouth sweetness
creamy peppermints lingering
cosseting divinely on the tongue
chocolates bring the oral orifice such pleasure
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 5:18 PM UTC
My peppermint days are over now
The sun now sour shines
Ridiculous voices sing a different sky
And I hide behind horoscope signs.
My sandy beaches are lime outside
They cry like flowing wine
Absurd news is static in my grief
Locked in a cage of time
My peppermint days are memories now
The light years closed away
For any story told by children
There is a lonely prayer to say.
My peppermints I'll share with you
If I thought thay'd catch your vision
But you can only judge reality
As if it were spoken out for you to listen
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 10:14 PM UTC
Modern and Contemporary Poetry
takes up most of the passenger seat.
Pages' edges ruffled like the balled-up polo I'm wearing. *Tommy Hilfiger'd
be rolling in his millions.* Twenty minutes till work's screen door crashes on the frame twice before settling. Three salad plates, a skillet, and two jars of unsweetened tea condensate
on the metal counter. They soak dinner bills and paper towel coasters.
The front door vacuum seals behind sandal families reeking of Chlorine
and hairspray. Beachy look. Three more families crowd in behind them, taking turns sifting through the hostess desk peppermints for discarded toothpicks. Reservations for 7:00 come in at 6:50 and demand a table. They're just like the mints packed tightly
in the lobby, but there are a few patient ones at the bottom. They're the ones that inspire stanzas in Modern and Contemporary Poetry, the college textbook waiting on my passenger seat. Three more hours.
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 10:59 AM UTC
Bright horizons rise up
Over the broad, soothing,
Pixelated mountains.
A parse in the code wakes
And shivers under the
Blazingly cold sun.
Drifting clouds, silvered with
Pixels, flowing like a
River of neon lights.
The data streams above,
Dreamy and nostalgic,
Like quiet afternoons
Inside, listening to the
Cool, pattering rain tap
Gently at the window.
Dark clouds outside, stirring
With a roll of thunder,
And a screen, the music
Chimes gently in your mind.
Hums, chords, thrums, and a quiet,
Beckoning warmth, waving
Back through the pixel clouds
Under the pixel sun.
The colours blend with
The sweet taste of cola.
Salty crisps, shaken, bagged
And popped open at lunch.
Fresh tuna sandwiches,
The click of a cassette tape.
Unwrapped magazines.
Old smells mingle on your
Cool tongue. Lavender oil,
Peppermints in Winter,
Strawberries and cream. You
Feel the pixels in your
Pockets, like loose change.
Those soft chimes return still
To the old windowsill
In the light breeze. Each leaf
Its own story, washed in
Streams of pixels, flowing
Timid through the sky.
A bird tweets. The dreams stir
And fade into the clouds.
Softly lit, glowing sun,
Bathed in warm nostalgia.
Nobody really goes
To Earth, anymore.
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 2:57 AM UTC
Sip the fruits
Drinking from the silver chalice
To your lips in grand design
Taste the life that waits to greet you
Sip the fruits of promised wine
Slowly feel the warmth so filling
Close your eyes in wondrous bliss
Sunny skies and apple blossoms
On your mouth the finest kiss
Smiles float on windswept sonnets
In the shade formed high above
Checkered red and cotton flowing
Melodies of written love
Calling forth on chambered sighs
To your skin a sweet caress
Visions of a rosebud rainbow
Butterflies and tenderness
Peppermints on stemmed affection
Open arms to show the way
Poems penned to tug your heart strings
Painted in a vast array
This and so much more I send you
Wrapped with ribbon, satin bow
Only searching for your smile
Hoping soon to see it show
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 11:40 PM UTC
Check in impatiently
hauling light luggage -
downturned eyes,
bundled fifties,
skull packed with sickly
sugarplum notions
Stiff key-card door and
three hanger closet -
leave your mittens, jacket,
and conscience dangling
Towels
cotton-knit sandpaper
no softer than well-trafficked
threadbare tawny-port carpet and
your hands and feet pretend
not to feel it
nervously,
a bit numbly,
you notice her standing
with glacial stillness
moments away from
the foot of the bed
Two crooked lampshades and
dim headboard lights
close their eyes when
the mattress springs
first compress,
the air tingling
with dustbunny snowflakes
This room is too dark now,
something like snowblind,
but you don't really want to see
do you?
Frostbite when she touches you
and somehow this bed
is more welcoming
than your own
you'll remember her
february fingertips
and hailstone hair,
a sensation of northerly winds
strange how heavy the comforter feels
sprawled across your skin
you envision an ice slab,
see it suffocate
a slow-flowing river,
and your breath quickens
if only because your lungs
have been crushed
then, just before hypothermia,
she leaves,
lights off,
wallet lighter,
you stay whiteknuckled, lightheaded,
half-consumed by a snowdrift,
beneath the duvet -
dazed
your tongue sits confused,
having asked for peppermints
and been given ice cubes instead
and when you finally rise,
and thaw your limbs
and try not the slip
on the black ice
she always leaves
by the door,
Try to forget
you paid
hourly rates
and shed your clothes
that you might find warmpth
in a blizzard
Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 6:29 PM UTC
The guy just kept swinging his lunchbox
and it kept hitting Shakira
in the stomach.
I had to say something.
So I did, I told him to watch where he swung
that ******* cooler.
And his boys got into it.
And they wanted to fight to.
And we were near the beach.
And the clouds were edgeless.
And the sun was pastel.
And I just wanted to **** all of them.
Shakira held me back.
My girl held me back.
And then I felt something sinking
cold, deep down in me.
I sat on the beach
and almost cried;
depression hit like peppermints.
And I'd never felt so afraid in my life.
On the beach, all those people laughing
and their fat ******* kids running into the surf,
I just wanted to **** myself right there,
I was so afraid and scared.
I'd never been scared.
Or afraid.
I'd gotten my nose broken
my jaw bruised a few times,
and I knew to put vaseline on
cuts over the eye,
but I was scared
and I can't explain the kind of fear
that's made me weak.
I've gotten into fights since then,
but I feel fear growing
everytime.
My fingers go crazy with twitching
and after it's over,
the ball gets bigger inside of me.
Jan 18, 2012
Jan 18, 2012 at 10:05 PM UTC
I know Im not suppose to
Share my problems
Yell or cry
Not for now
Or ever
Never let people know
But I confess
Confide with the fact
That my personal veins
And my blood flow
Have these wounds that were meant to be
The scars of someone else
I try to fix myself
With the smiles I see
They walk, stand upright
"Be of good cheer"
Pretend to be healed
I am worse
Because I "can" fix them
Because I am fine...
Because I am what I should be
My body is due
Long overdue
It buffers the colds with
Half hearted beats
Double chocolate chip
And peppermints
But I turned to
Euchalyptus
Because of the snow breaths
To temper the hellfire
I keep inside me
I can say Im okay
Until you are
But I will find myself
...you will find me
Hung against the sky
Or on a Christmas tree branch
Like an ornament
The angel
Above joseph and mary
Who is happy
Who is suspended in air
Tied to a fiber string
Tied to forever
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 6:07 AM UTC
Argers heart burns bright
her warmth felt throughout the room
where nana bakes fresh home made bread
Sunpat cheese spread and pork dripping wait
upon a plain white kitchen table
where grandad laces tight his big black boots
a canvas bag beside him dirt stained smells like peppermints
he looks at me and smiles handing me a stick of liquorice
"for later"
snap packed boots fastened he cuts and spreads the slices of hot fresh bread
jacket and trilby taken down and worn he leaves to walk to where
he works
in absolute darkness he remembers the argers heart burning bright and smiles.
Jul 11, 2012
Jul 11, 2012 at 4:35 AM UTC
Today I wore pink
And all through the hours
I felt wide - expansive,
Like a Sahara of embarassment,
The blush of recycled shame.
The color made me think of you,
And how you purred over the shade
When she inked it into her hair,
A blonde head turned to bubblegum filth;
How you smiled and fell in love
With everything but me.
You used to carry sweet words
In the pocket of your cheeks,
******* them like peppermints,
Tumbling them like a dryer
Until your teeth turned red
And then your tongue went sour
And your mouth grew mad,
Spitting sparks and catching my skin on fire.
She wasted you, with her cotton candy highlights
And that incessant, stupid need to be free.
She wasted you, and made you new
For everyone but me.
My mind is a carousel, and my thoughts are
Bumbling to catch one another,
Waltzing and reeling in spirals,
And dizzying the dance with canned lullabyes.
The girl at the bookstore has a smile
That's all teeth and pink gums.
She's pink, if pink were living,
And she's following me like a lost silhouette.
He asks me if I'm okay and I
Nod my head and feed him excuses.
He doesn't spit them up; its easy.
Truth is, I'm a whirlwind,
A pink whirlwind, and the color makes my stomach knot.
The muscles in my chest are whining,
And going stiff with self-disgust.
I'm starting to think I'm only happy
When I'm torturing myself with you.
Aug 24, 2011
Aug 24, 2011 at 6:07 PM UTC
~
*the night starts here,
the night starts here
in the dunes,
fixed in time;
incipient waves falling into place,
their subtle purpose
to roll over and sing;
the fountainhead above us,
like it's above the shore,
attaching softness to a shell.
we blew on a dandelion
and the whole world disappeared;
love is a mysterious shape,
love is a remembered rhythm.
I have trembled
my way deep,
I'm a guest in here,
drinking at the stream,
seeking bliss in
the plural homemade kiss:
peppermints and orchid rain.
we please the night,
we please the night in interlude,
and it merrily leaves us that strand
of pearls called "good morning."*
~
Jan 23, 2025
Jan 23, 2025 at 8:23 AM UTC
Her breath smelt of peppermints
she leaned over you
on Mr Spark’s bed
where she’d pinned you
after creeping into the room
as you made his bed
her blue eyes
peered into yours
I want you
take me to cinema
she said sultrily
you felt her ****
pressing
into your white shirt
her hands either side
of your head
I’m kind of busy Sonia
you said
you can spare time
take me to cinema
she stated
you tried to move
but she’d
pinned you well
maybe at the end
of the week
you said
you say that
but you could be lying
she breathed
peppermint
invade your nose
her red lipsticked lips
opened and closed
I promise you I will
you said
your body
beginning to numb
you promise?
yes I promise
she lifted up a little
so you could breathe
if you lie to me
I will scream
and say you throw me
on bed for ***
she said
but I didn’t
you said
I know and you know
but who they believe?
she uttered softly
you tried to ease her off
but she pushed down harder
promise me?
yes
you said
what we go see?
whatever you like
she smiled
small white teeth
showed
anything I want?
yes anything
she moved off
of you and sat
on the edge
of the bed
as you got off the bed
and brushed down
your white coat
and straightened
your red tie
and smoothed down
the bedcover
that’d become creased
she sat looking at you
her blonde hair
pinned back
with hair grips
one leg crossed
over the other
a foot dangling
the black shoe
rising and falling
where you take me?
the Ritz cinema
there’s a good film on
you said
is *** film?
no war film
you muttered
looking at her
wondering
if you could make
the door before
she jumped you again
war film?
she said
is good?
is *** in it?
I guess so
you said
watching her foot
dangling up and down
good
she said
getting off the bed
we go then
at end of week?
yes
you said
and she kissed
your lips
with her bruising lips
of bright red.
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 3:48 PM UTC
I've checked into a place
Much like this before
The furniture lined with restriction
Woven worries don the upholstery at the floor
It is a waiting room white as tight knuckle skin
Black diamonds adorn the door
There is a small zen garden
In the corner, on a table
Existing but for use as nothing
It contains no sand or rocks or rake
Delicate plant life around the room
But not a drop of soil at its base
A bowl of peppermints, but only for those with
An acquired taste
Familiarity takes a swig
Burns in the tummy
Of the hearth of the room
Only here does the fire stay cold
And only here is the news always old.
Nov 14, 2011
Nov 14, 2011 at 8:34 PM UTC
Through the pain of dissatisfaction comes the ending of a life worth more than gold itself.
Each breath that a loved one takes is in vain
Through the burden of life we learn new things
Such as the feeling of hurt
And sometimes joy
And when we feel joy it feels sweet on our tongues
Life is bitter
And dissatisfaction is sour
The only release we have from our minds
Is a cold casket
I only ask that if I die soon
If I die young
Please bury me where the peppermints are
For if I were to taste them
They would bring me back to you
And joy would be everlasting
The only thing we would learn from life would be peace
Bury me where the peppermints are
Mar 5, 2019
Mar 5, 2019 at 11:12 AM UTC
I’m starting to catch a vibe from this little lady
That there might be a maybe
For this pretty beauty to be a baby
She’s ending confos acting very independent
Speaking in heys just to pick a needle
Something to draw me in
Needing a little sweetie to this peppermint gum honey
Apr 16, 2020
Apr 16, 2020 at 5:29 PM UTC
I am dark clothing
and nightmares
broken dreams
and blistered feet
I am dark purple bags under bright green eyes
and dark auburn hair dyed every three months
worn out rainbow bracelets
and my worthless mothers old ring
I am dance shoes
and little free time
peppermints
and coffee in paper cups
I am quick stolen kiss when nobody is watching
and softly brushing hair out of her eyes
silvery scars fading into my skin
and fresh injuries I know I can't keep creating
routines
and random urges
I am moving forward
May 26, 2012
May 26, 2012 at 3:25 PM UTC
Time for pecan divinity and sassafras tea , for golden garland decorating mantel-shelves , hand stitched doilies and holiday serviettes , candlesticks , candy canes and peppermints .. German nutcrackers and Christmas tales , warm wine and sleigh bells ...
Nov 30, 2017
Nov 30, 2017 at 7:23 PM UTC
Two hearts, one body,
gliding gracefully over the fences with ease.
Just like the air that wooshes past the pair,
time has flown.
Seven years of trust slowly built up,
It all started with..
A glance in the stables,
and the first invigorating ride
that made her spirits soar. In her head,
she knew Geno was special.
Breathing in the warm sunlight and feeling
his sleek, red coat beneath her fingers,
and smelling the musty, dirt smell of horse stalls,
Trust began to grow, with every successful trek and turn.
Every handful of hay and oats
and his favorite, Peppermints,
and the occassional laugh they shared
carried the threads of the bond they have now sewn tightly together.
The drum of hooves on ground beat a melody to their ears,
encouraging them to go where neither had gone before.
For as long as they have each other, anything feels possible.
With a nudge to his stomach and they're off
galloping across the field, like spreading wildfire.
How extraordinary,
to kindle a friendship with such a magnificent creature...
It is in those moments time feels endless.
When the calm overcomes and all is quiet,
the breath of rider and breath of horse,
the steady and strong shoulders shooting forward,
And the sunlight setting across the hill
is all that matters.
It is in that space, between sky and ground and time
on the back of a lovely beast,
heart racing against the evening's shadows,
that the rider can say:
She's home.
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 4:52 PM UTC