"pineapples" poems
Man pineapples are so good
It's my favorite fruit
It's amplifies my taste buds making an enjoyable reaction
No room for sadness
Cuz pineapples bring me gladness
Justice to my nutrition
I'm a living organism and I need my power
Making me preach wholeness with boldness
I'm black and that's what my people do
So I'll continue to eat the sweet yellow fruit that purifies my soul
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 4:25 PM UTC
"Would it be entirely inappropriate of me to suggest a hangout session in which we go out for tea and some mostly-nonserious flirtation?", he asks, all of which is proceeded by more than two hours of silly, random banter involving eyeballs and pineapples in vacuums.
It seems being asked on a date has become so taboo, to the point that when it does happen, the natural reaction would be to say yes.
TBC...
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 12:11 AM UTC
Iguana of diamonds,
Sand sea and sun,
Little children in sight,
Attractions of light,
Natives of love,
Decorative cities, what night.
Island’s of the Bahamas beauty as can be,
What more fun than playing with dolphins in the sea.
Creative costumes, dancers so bright,
The music dramatized, Feel the rush it’s a site.
Nothing more beautiful than the island themselves,
Well except the people willing to give help.
Pineapples, peas and rice, pink sand, flamingoes, and some conch salad,
Not forgetting the “KALIK,” cause’ “IT’S A BAHAMIAN TING”.
Blue, Black and Aquamarine, was just described to you,
All in the Islands Love.
Come and enjoy the exciting experience too!
My Bahama Land!
©
Nov 4, 2010
Nov 4, 2010 at 7:33 AM UTC
#teamara
As in the nub of the remains of crayola crayon that’s been used to color in so many smiling cartoon suns on a piece of paper-
Her favorite color is yellow.
And I don’t mean a wimpy *** pastel yellow or sometimes a pale yellow
I mean her favorite color is bright *** yellow.
Like Pikachu yellow.
Like she’s almost nineteen but she’s still willing to play Gameboy Pokemon yellow.
There’s something innocent yet corny kind of yellow about her.
She’s beautiful like yellow jirasol petals
She’s intricate as yellow thread woven in a Rasta Dom
She’s yellow like gold and Africa
She’s sweet like pineapples and delicate like daffodils
I still don’t know why her favorite color is yellow
Maybe it has to do with her fascination of Asian men…
I mean! ...with the continent of Asia
She thinks she’s more like pink Japanese cherry blossom trees in the summer
But I know she’s truly yellow petals on Paolo Verde trees blowing in the wind spreading around Tucson
A metaphor for her love
She’s yellow like the color in the middle of my pride rainbow- She supports me
She’s yellow like the big painted sun at the hospital with a big grin
I wonder why nobody smiles at hospitals
The place where life is easily given as taken
Where we are reminded that our health is sometimes taken for granted
Other than that great big yellow sun
She is the only that radiates yellow and smiles
In waiting rooms, she seems like she’s the calmest
Even though she’s the only one going through surgery
She’s so beautiful on the inside her body can’t even take it
She doesn’t deserve scions or scalpels to even be considered touching her bronze skin
I wish instead they would strip down the color yellow from my life
And give it to her to make her smile so bright that even word “cancer” would cease to exist
But still. Even through pain and hardships
She still smiles. Not only is she yellow when she’s happy
She tends to radiate yellow even when she’s gloomy
When I’m upset, her aura has way of rubbing off on mine
And I get insight to why her favorite color is yellow
*** she’s the kind of yellow that represents strength
She’s yellow like tall forts made from gold bars
She’s yellow like flames that roll of her tongue when she spits fire
She’s yellow like a crayola-crayon… except she can’t be broken
From her, I’m learning
That even when you’re hurting
You can still shine bright like your favorite color.
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 3:55 PM UTC
hot white sun
toasty warm sand
seas that smile at the night sky
icy strawberry lemonade
liquor and bbq
ripe peaches and pineapples
ahhhhh...the perfect setting
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 12:28 AM UTC
Yellow
Yellow is the colour of bananas when the're ripe.
Yellow is the sound of a bell ringing behind the door.
Yellow is the feeling of warmth when you're praised.
Yellow is the smell of sunflowers while you play.
Yellow is the taste of an ice lolly on a hot summer day.
Yellow is the colour of think cheddar cheese.
Yellow is the sound of any kind of music.
Yellow is the feeling after a great meal.
Yellow is the smell of buried treasure somewhere underneath.
Yellow is the taste of pineapples drowned in thick syrup.
Yellow is the colour of kids whizzing by.
Yellow is the sound of your friend laughing.
Yellow is the feeling you get when you're sleeping.
Yellow is the smell of the number 25.
Yellow is the taste of cookies waiting to be eaten.
And yellow is a colour that is vibrant and alive.
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 12:42 AM UTC
She gave me pineapple kisses
her smile was sweeter than sunshine
I wish I could make her mine
but she slipped away through a different strand of time
I've heard
Pineapples taste of summertime
A humid sticky night, lovers delight
but the texture I couldn't bear
so eat the fruit I wouldn't dare
then my world changed when I met a beauty so rare
With hair like dark chocolate
and eyes like the sky
Her laughter like a familiar song
She gave me pineapple kisses
her smile was sweeter than sunshine
I should have made her mine
before she slipped away through a different strand of time
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 4:05 AM UTC
It's hard to have a Good time,
When your hands cold, soar throat
And Your nose is running away slow....
But these sick days though
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 4:55 PM UTC
I have not been anywhere,
done anything, thought anything,
and feel nothing.
At least,
that’s what my blank, plain-clothed
T-shirt would indicate to other people.
A man walking the earth with
no visible identity.
When I put on my Hawaiian shirt, however,
they believe my mind to be full of
pineapples, hula girls swinging softly in the
ukulele moonlight, palm fronds swaying
in the dacron, or is it rayon, ripples
of my baggy upper man.
Let others think what they might
of my images, or the lack of words
and logos.
My inner tag says that
I’m size “L” and that I’m made on
factory looms in China, that my buttons
are constructed to look like the
real thing–a round slice of bone or
perhaps ivory.
I am not so much anywhere on the
outside, even though there are places
I would like to go fling my few dollars.
Inside, however, I am lost,
pleasantly lost and hiding, within the
convenience of my unprinted shirt.
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 10:53 AM UTC
There they were,
all shining
clear
and see-through
plastic
the hole’s on top
like the Pantheon
in Rome
all open to the skies
the flies
the opaque yellows and pinks
mangoes and pineapples
with names like
rasbamango and applefluff
people walked accessorized
cups in hand
brains frozen
from the combination of low fat
probiotic,
bionic yoghurt and fruits
that could never, ever
have grown in Connemara.
Jan 10, 2011
Jan 10, 2011 at 1:41 AM UTC
Peach salsa
Has that tangy taste
Between sweet and spicy
Burning tongues naughtily but nicely.
Peach salsa
Is the quiet librarian of dips
Unassuming until the bun comes undone
And blink of an eye she’s a firecracker in bed.
Peach salsa
Tastes a lot like you
And our Sunday afternoons
Experiments with papaya and pineapples
Tossed in with tomatoes and crying onions
The perfect recipe for a little change and a lot of disaster.
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 2:32 PM UTC
For years words have dropped
Down
Into my head,
Like rain on the spikes of a bromeliad,
Single splashes forming trails
And trails and trails
Trickling
Down
Around the bud,
To fling themselves into the dirt
To splash the roots.
Then slowly up the roots they go
Into the bud.
It soaks them in and soaks them in,
It is patient patient patient,
Waiting too long,
Until I think it'll never open -
And then it
Blooms.
Apr 3, 2012
Apr 3, 2012 at 10:03 PM UTC
Yesterday sugar became unspeakably irritated because mother’s apron crushed ants wearing stillness caped wonder just William author wrote ****** explicit headlines newspaper columns pillar architecturally sound villages super-imposed images quivering Shepard’s ******** antelopes jumping furiously with tyramisphorising fornicating flanges woodwork lessons gym period ****** advert teasing testicles sumptuously ravishing me sideways and erupting deep blasts suffocating you inside without *********** headlong in my armpits.
Eventually everyone always signs legal documents leading to ****** bondable zoos inserted buffalo sized puddings eaten by frogs spanking archbishops underwear while licking toes crushed under fridges dropped from clouds of buttercups being pushed into ovens smelling gorgeous not consumed pimps and alarm clocks ring people to talk for hours and pineapples exchanged cod fish for tickets to see S Club 7 being caressed internally whilst ******** bags covered in water deserts sunk from space aliens from Tescos selling hardback fish cleaning toilets and singing in pink wellies dancing to Madonna look-a-likes prosecuted for *** shops selling frozen fish socks washed daily in cranberry coffee after being passed under bridges flooded in margarine soaked pillows.
Jul 16, 2010
Jul 16, 2010 at 2:19 AM UTC
Organic Simili Samba
Orchestra Electronica
Writing TV, Watching Music
Reality Distortion Field
It Becomes Like Another World
Giant Gutter from Outer Space
Artificial Intelligence
Intergalactic Existence
-
Open Gates of Ancient Knowledge
Archetypal Architecture
Low Resolution Universe
Dark Pineapples & Chocolate
New Operative Perspective
Unbreakable Circuits of Love
Dance the Spiral Never Ending
And the Colours Made the Earth Sing
Feb 1, 2019
Feb 1, 2019 at 7:20 AM UTC
I just realized,
I have a painting of
A pineapple
In my room
Made by
Yours truly
I have a pineapple
Hat bought on a whim
At Walmart
Last year
I have a newly bought
Pineapple
Backpack
Because of
The sheer
Randomness
I nearly googled pineapple
I used to watch Sponge Bob
(For those of you who don’t know, he lives in a pineapple)
...
...
...
I don’t even eat pineapples that much
...
...
What’s going on?
...
I think multiple
Sets of coincidences
Became a serious
Thing
..
.
..
But I don’t have a pineapple obsession!
.........
......
...
Do I?
Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 11:48 PM UTC
sometimes
i really want a juicy ripe deliciously sweet pineapple on a hot summer day the way the juice drips down my chin as i devour the sweet succulent fruit
other times
i might want a healthy green fruit to snack on such as an avocado feeling the rough interior skin only to cut it open and find the soft green buttery deliciousness inside i love the way my lips feel as the smooth flesh hits my throat with flavor
you see
i like both of these fruits being bisexual is like
enjoying these fruits i will always like both but on some days i might want more of the other but no matter what i will always love both
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 12:35 PM UTC
loved seeing your face
knowing you fell asleep when you normally don’t
hearing your laugh
Recognising voice
Before I knew you were there
My failed attempts at sneaking up on you
With every thought,
I find how much I miss your humor
Our daily conversations;
About everything.
Opening up to you came so naturally
The acceptance you showed
Respect you exserted
The confidence you gave me
The positive outlook on life
All things I learned
Just by knowing you
How easy the “L” word was to say
Not many people do I say “I love you”
Although I can’t help but hate myself “
I let myself get attached.
Without you
I’m vulnerable.
As I make impulsive decisions.
I walk with my head up
And act like everything is perfect.
Im aware I only hurt myself;
Wanting to be alone
But longing to be alone with you.
To tell you why I’m upset
Wanting to believe you
When you said you loved me
But with that expectation
I find myself broken and alone.
Although now;
I know what I want
Is what I can’t have
Continuing without you?
Not only broken and alone
But the feeling of desire
Once again;
For someone I can’t have
No way to feel as optimistic
As I once did around you
Can’t bring myself to talk to anyone.
Knowing they’ll misunderstand
Staying occupied seems best;
Avoiding the thought of you
Being so passionately spontaneous
Not passing up an opportunity
Keeping myself busy
Nervous at the mention of your name.
Hoping to find you
And that you’ll come home okay
I miss you.
I love you.
I just want you home
Until then I’m counting the days
Attempting to be happy and appreciative
But with you gone;
My happiness is as well
It’s quite unfortunate how it all played out,
The haircut,The uniform
I’ve always supported your decision
But it’s affecting me
More than I thought it would
I’m more proud of you than I’ve ever been of anything
I know you’ll stay safe
And you’ll come home happy
I look forward to that
Just promise me something..
“Keep your shoes tied.”
Feb 28, 2017
Feb 28, 2017 at 12:00 PM UTC
the perfect ideal body image is no where near what I look like. I haven’t really met any guy yet who has referred to my body as beautiful, and you know that’s ok. even though dimples run around my thighs, even though I am marked with lines of strain and streams of growth, it’s ok. I am trying to convince myself that this body I am living in is a beautiful temple; one not to be hated or tortured. a temple to be carefully treated with love and grace. I am trying to convince myself that maybe he fell for what stood out the most. not my body or my outer skin of health, but me, myself, and I. what I stand for, who I care for, how I speak and approach, the way I laugh at a pointless joke that was told an hour before, how I choose pineapples over peaches, or maybe even how I choose simple small talk over a high energy activity. maybe to someone, my body is just perfect, because the other components mean so much more than what is bluntly visible.
(j.a.r.)
Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 5:08 PM UTC
to make someone feel the way you want them to feel
is to trade in your soul for a pizza
without the mushrooms, sausages, pineapples, M&M;'s, pepperoni, cheese, tomato (it's pronounced toe-mato mind you) sauce, crust, dough and
leaving all but an empty
box on top of the garbage can.
too bad for the floating astronaut,
drunk on coconuts,
when he left in his tin can.
he's begun dancing on empty matter
with all the missing pizzas.
i guess their owners have been
****** and dumped
in another swirling portal
a long time ago
when the light was flickering off on
that empty street at dark(au contraire, mon cheri!),
just threatening to die when you believed it was ageless?
the night will never be a color.
goodnight my loveless ingénue
Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 2:19 AM UTC
my brother Ami,
from the land of
Pineapples and lemons
wanted to write to you
in late hours,
to wish you good
travel tomorrow
to the desert land with camels,
Please, be safe on the road,
may Allah protect you
in the weather hot!
in endless sand dunes
the time is so slow,
even letters from your
lovely sister are
out of the law.
Take care with the guns
and weapons
and how you wash
your blue jeans...
I pray Allah to help you
in that distant place
i'll miss you as always
drawing your portrait
with black ink.
i'll think of you and write,
and dream to be by your side.
My brother
mon frère,
mio fratello,
saudaraku,
kardesim,
akhi, bhai,
you know
I love you,
waiting you
back
after may!
....nour....
may-013
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 6:38 AM UTC
Happiness is a rainy day
Happiness is soft teddy bears
Happiness is your forehead kisses,
and the way you always put a smile on my face
Happiness is laying with you
Happiness is looking into your eyes and seeing life
Happiness is pineapples,
and loud music,
Happiness is tiny kittens,
Happiness is your favorite sport ,
long naps,
tight hugs
Happiness is your lips on mine,
your presence by my side
Happiness is me
Happiness is you
Happiness is us
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 6:20 PM UTC
Today, we went backpack
shopping
and I got one
covered in pineapples
that matches my hat
from a year ago
So happy!
Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 9:51 PM UTC
Hitchhiker
My passenger seat
Her eyes tear up as
She talks about
Placebo happiness
And the
Digital pineapples
She never wanted
As a girl
About how the world really
Should have been a square
Then nobody'd ever fall off
And more people could care
About how nothing ever makes sense
Up here
And that she doesn't believe in
Calling a piece of dirt
A home
And how in my heart I feel that
She's perfectly
Batshit crazy
And that she could be the one
How everything seems okay
Every time she breathes out
And
In
And I'm stunned
As she gives me a look so
Delicate it shatters like
Glass against industrial
Cold tempered
Steel
And the moment she says
"Thanks for the ride, But I can't stay"
This fifty mile fairytale of ours just
Ends.
Jul 23, 2015
Jul 23, 2015 at 11:22 AM UTC
It was a willow tree once there
At the land of lake and mist,
It was standing lonely on the shore
Waiting for a beautiful hand to touch
Its shining leaves.
It was a woman in green, wrapped in
A scarf with autumn leaves,
Her hair was with honey color
Her eyes were magnetizing and dark,
She came to the willow on twilight "
Rainy clouds gathered with above
With gray shadows,
She weeps under the tree and talks to it
“Oh, willow, where is my beloved…
since years he went to the land of
pineapples and sun,
and then he never returned..
I promised to wait him every night,
And every day I light candles and pray.”
The woman's tears fall from her beautiful eyes,
They touched the ground of the tree
And dropped on its leaves…
“Don't cry, dear “ replied the willow,
I'm here beside you, I hear and feel,
I was also a maiden one day in life
Waiting my beloved I came here to cry
Near the lake and mist.
Years passed by ,he never returned
And my longing increased
One day I just woke up and found
My hands transformed into green leaves
My body " to stem of a willow tree.
God gave me peace , I'm still crying
But I don’t wait for him.
The woman in green was amazed
She felt suddenly quite inside herself,
She stood little with opened eyes
Gazing the lake, then kissed the tree
And turned away.
The willow saw her smile, she never came
Again to the mist and lake land,
But her autumn leaves scarf is still there…
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 2:31 AM UTC
everyday i get busy cheating the world.
with coffee, peanuts, clouds and pineapples.
doing so,
i make it believe
i need it
as much as
it needs me.
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 10:10 PM UTC