"pleasantly" poems
i have loved,let us see if that’s all.
Bit into you as teeth,in the stone
of a musical fruit. My lips pleasantly groan
on your taste. Jumped the quick wall
of your smile into stupid gardens
if this were not enough(not really enough
pulled one before one the vague tough
exquisite
flowers, whom hardens
richly, darkness. On the whole
possibly have i loved….?you)
sheath before sheath
stripped to the Odour. (and here’s what WhoEver will know
Had you as bite teeth;
i stood with you as a foal
stands but as the trees,lay,which grow
36.8k
I reserved a table for the two of us
at the only restaurant in the world
that not only offers atmosphere and setting
but tone and syntax as well.
First some articles for appetizers. They're
easiest on my pocket you know.
An an, a the, and an a.
Let's not even start on the punctuation,
I'm treating you to a rather large meal.
As large as the entire English language,
now back to the articles.
Sure these taste like lint but they still
taste. Petit fours but there you are.
Try to be disinterested or you'll
put me off my food.
Nouns now. My, what a variety.
Bit meaty, eh? These have staying power.
They taste like a bit of everywhere,
and everyone, and everything.
What's that? Surely they're not that bland.
Maybe you need some seasoning.
"Adjective" comes from the
French for "to the word."
So exotic aren't they? These
really are fantastic.
Exquisite, unique, zesty to say the least.
You must admit, they
make the meal worth it.
I hope you're not allergic,
I could have sworn I just
had something "nutty."
Oh, it had nuts "in it"?
There must be some prepositions
mixed in here.
(I'm glad we're getting through
these now, I've never been a big fan of them.
When I was a kid, I would always push my prepositions to the end
of my sentences. You just can't do
that in a joint like this, it seems.)
Ah finally. The verbs are served.
Well-prepared it would seem.
Yes, anything you can do to a verb
they've done to these.
Infinitives (too good to realistically be believed!),
gerunds, and participles (No, not particles. But we
did have some of those at the Japanese restaurant.)
Fairly lean too, as I can't see
any auxiliary fat.
For some reason
those adverbs (just to your left, under that
thesaurus) really go well with this.
Plus those adjectives from earlier, rather pleasantly.
Now a brief selection
of conjunctions, but don't ruin
yourself. They're not a meal of themselves,
just a link to...
Oh! Look at those interjections.
So delicate, so (Wow!) incisive.
I told you to keep your appetite.
Well, just try a little of this. Goodness, me!
And then everyone proceeds to
die
from a split infinitive.
Mar 21, 2010
Mar 21, 2010 at 7:44 PM UTC
i walked the boulevard
i saw a ***** child
skating on noisy wheels of joy
pathetic dress fluttering
behind her a mothermonster
with red grumbling face
cluttered in pursuit
pleasantly elephantine
while nearby the father
a thick cheerful man
with majestic bulbous lips
and forlorn piggish hands
joked to a girlish *****
with busy rhythmic mouth
and sily purple eyelids
of how she was with child
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Frost-locked all the winter,
Seeds, and roots, and stones of fruits,
What shall make their sap ascend
That they may put forth shoots?
Tips of tender green,
Leaf, or blade, or sheath;
Telling of the hidden life
That breaks forth underneath,
Life nursed in its grave by Death.
Blows the thaw-wind pleasantly,
Drips the soaking rain,
By fits looks down the waking sun:
Young grass springs on the plain;
Young leaves clothe early hedgerow trees;
Seeds, and roots, and stones of fruits,
Swollen with sap, put forth their shoots;
Curled-headed ferns sprout in the lane;
Birds sing and pair again.
There is no time like Spring,
When life's alive in everything,
Before new nestlings sing,
Before cleft swallows speed their journey back
Along the trackless track,--
God guides their wing,
He spreads their table that they nothing lack,--
Before the daisy grows a common flower,
Before the sun has power
To scorch the world up in his noontide hour.
There is no time like Spring,
Like Spring that passes by;
There is no life like Spring-life born to die,--
Piercing the sod,
Clothing the uncouth clod,
Hatched in the nest,
Fledged on the windy bough,
Strong on the wing:
There is no time like Spring that passes by,
Now newly born, and now
Hastening to die.
14.6k
By my dear angel Sandalphon as he has been lead in my hand, leaving a clear trail of a cursive writing on a transient sheet of paper,
A crimson sight, so black that one would be caught in trance, reflected by unnatural light of a lamp flickering in the dark of the night, as his feather releases a sweet scent of fresh yet unused ink,
Together with Zadkiel's blooming and happy memories I then am capable to write such down, in an attempt to create poetry, focused,
The sound of scratchy, itchy, rasping echos through this room I inhabit, but already left spititually, engaged in the world of fantasy,
Word by word, the paper is penetrated by this pen, pleasantly, thoughtfully, gently sliding over it to not damage it by accident,
There is no need for haste, heartache nor rush, not is there the need to be concerned about this angels work, duty and his mission to accompany me throughout each and every writing which unfurls,
Alike a story from my mind, from my emotions, deepest wishes, cast on the physical realm with his help,
And once his strengh weakens, fades, loses might and goes out alike an dying ember he will be dunked in fresh ongoing determination, so that he can repeat his duties with exuberance, joy
Casting a smile on my face once literature has been created,
As then I lay my dark knight, my servant for the night to rest,
Until another poem has to be written and his duty awakens him,
After all, in this dreamlike tale it is well to remember;
You don't have to die in a dream
~ Umi
Mar 28, 2018
Mar 28, 2018 at 6:00 PM UTC
With the peak of spring in the month of May
In the early hours of a pleasantly sunlit day
Two kids sat cuddled on a swing
Feeling as though they were taking on wing
Swinging in the air, they began to sing
Their sweet lay breaking the silence with its ring
They kicked their legs in rising delight
And felt like thistledowns ever so light
Up and down on the swing was fun
They closed their eyes on being face to face with the sun
Felt the swish and sway of the buoyant air
And knew the light tug of breeze on their curly hair
As the air got caught in the frills of their frock
Their eyes gleamed bright in delightful spark
Imagining themselves to be astronauts in space,
An ebullient excitement lit up their face
From a raised angle, they saw the Earth in green folds lie
Watched the surrounding hills standing awfully high
Saw a small stream flowing as a slow moving train
With trees lined up on its banks in unbroken chain
Longingly I watched these children free of all worry and pain
Also their aerial feats, not tainted by any melancholy stain
How I miss these childhood days of innocent fun
As my hours, towards the sunset, quickly run
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 12:38 PM UTC
Hark! Take heed, for this cake be both mighty and magnificent!
1.75 cups flour
2 cups white sugar
2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. baking powder
0.75 cups unsweetened cocoa powder
1 tsp. salt
2 eggs
1 cup (as in 8 fl.oz/250mL.) strongly brewed coffee (make more and drink it!)
1 cup buttermilk (or 1 tbs. white vinegar+1 cup milk mixed well, blah blah)
0.5 cups cocoanut oil (or 0.33 cups basicallywhatever oil), a little less if ***
1 tsp. vanilla extract
OPTIONAL:
2-3 shots (60-90mL; 0.2-0.33 cups) black spiced *** (Kraken, if at all possible)
I also want to experiment with whiskey/burbon.. if you try it, let me know!
--Flour, sugar cocoa powder, baking soda+powder, salt mixed in one bowl
-- eggs, coffee, *** buttermilk, oil, vanilla in another
Slowly mix the dry into the wet until as homogenous as possible.
I use an 8"x8" (20cmx20cm) pan @350F (175 C) for about 40 minutes, but I check on it at round 30 minutes because some variance may well apply. If you use olive oil, or avocado oil, or whatever other more fluid oil, I find a slightly hotter oven (375 F/190 C) can be advisable, but pay attention to your specific scenario! The worst that's happened for me is the top gets a bit crusty, but that pleasantly works with the overall moisture of the cake, especially with olive oil and the *** addition.
Do the toothpick test to see if it's ready!
Frosting is applicable, as well, because this Magical Cake is not horribly sweet for how horribly sweet it sure is. I usually just sprinkle some confectioner's sugar on it to make it look all fancy for my classy friends and band-mates.
ENJOY!
Bake responsibly, but have some fun.
Also, suffer the decimals!
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 8:53 AM UTC
If you weren't dark skin you'd blush,
You and your pleasantly "spring" demeanor,
blooming smiles in secret inside your hazmat suit,
from any type of feelings,
you are already infected,
-- and contagious,
yet refuse to admit the goosebumps
on your neck,
without the fortunate luxury of showing your emotion
society has deemed you timeless,
an eloquent flagrant aroma,
the definition of fine wine with a zest -- a spiciness of an impatient "summer",
you are warm,
and the stem of your smiles comes with thorns of poison,
weapons of mass destruction,
so you're cloaked,
tucked away from societal norms,
and expectations -- who are we to judge,
you are correct,
your skin,
is the right tone,
to
grab the attention for all the unwelcome,
literal and figuratively baring a cluster of
ideas,
wants,
desires -- requested by only the elite,
pasteurized and preserved until then.
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 7:56 PM UTC
inhaling smoke from fire and
it feels good
and it pleasantly washes down a shot of imported gold
but i can still breathe, and
the burn in my gut tells me i haven't yet had enough
so, i reach for one more
and i reach for one more
and i reach for one more
and i reach for one more
soon the page is blurry
and the vision is clear;
making no less than total sense
it begins at birth;
you cannot escape the hurt
just as energy is never destroyed
it is merely transferred
pain[.]
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 6:17 PM UTC
★★★
When God created woman
He came up with a well devised plan
Make woman super special
Gentle as a dove
And like a silky rose petal
with a heart for love
Make each woman
unique in her defined beauty,
Like mother earth with curves
to soothe a man's nerves
Make woman
kind with a voice divine
So like an angel of heaven
Her songs of love
will carry notes high
Then God went to work
molding her and sculpting her
and threading red streams
of life giving blood
through her veins
And when he was finished
God smiled quite pleasantly
And thought,
What a masterpiece I have created
God then whispered in her soul
Come to life my beautiful creation
For I have created
A universe of stars for you
And so woman shone brightly
When she came to life
Like those stars God created
She stretched and sighed,
and thus woman
became poetry
For she sang praises of love
for both God and Man
★★★
Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 8:03 PM UTC
Oh! a bare, brown rock
Stood up in the sea,
The waves at its feet
Dancing merrily.
A little bubble
Once came sailing by,
And thus to the rock
Did it gayly cry,--
** clumsy brown stone,
Quick, make way for me:
I'm the fairest thing
That floats on the sea.
"See my rainbow-robe,
See my crown of light,
My glittering form,
So airy and bright.
"O'er the waters blue,
I'm floating away,
To dance by the shore
With the foam and spray.
"Now, make way, make way;
For the waves are strong,
And their rippling feet
Bear me fast along."
But the great rock stood
Straight up in the sea:
It looked gravely down,
And said pleasantly--
"Little friend, you must
Go some other way;
For I have not stirred
this many a long day.
"Great billows have dashed,
And angry winds blown;
But my sturdy form
Is not overthrown.
"Nothing can stir me
In the air or sea;
Then, how can I move,
Little friend, for thee?"
Then the waves all laughed
In their voices sweet;
And the sea-birds looked,
From their rocky seat,
At the bubble gay,
Who angrily cried,
While its round cheek glowed
With a foolish pride,--
"You SHALL move for me;
And you shall not mock
At the words I say,
You ugly, rough rock.
"Be silent, wild birds!
While stare you so?
Stop laughing, rude waves,
And help me to go!
"For I am the queen
Of the ocean here,
And this cruel stone
Cannot make me fear."
Dashing fiercely up,
With a scornful word,
Foolish Bubble broke;
But Rock never stirred.
Then said the sea-birds,
Sitting in their nests
To the little ones
Leaning on their *******
"Be not like Bubble,
Headstrong, rude, and vain,
Seeking by violence
Your object to gain;
"But be like the rock,
Steadfast, true, and strong,
Yet cheerful and kind,
And firm against wrong.
"Heed, little birdlings,
And wiser you'll be
For the lesson learned
To-day by the sea."
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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
*At nightfall, in the midst of silence,
The sky turned,
Into a sheet of gray,
And droplets of rain,
Pleasantly came sprinkling down,
Making tranquil musical sounds,
Appearing to entertain.
Landing upon an adorned bed of roses,
In hues of reds, yellows,
Pinks and whites,
Lightly spreading their delicate petals,
As crystalline beads,
Gently dripped onto the ground,
In a soft melody.*
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 11:06 AM UTC
She reached out
out of the blue
one day.
I was pleasantly surprised.
Much time had passed
passed since the past.
We made small talk
talk of our lives.
Things we had been through
Then she said
I should post more recent
photos.
Photos of how I look now.
She caught me off guard
Most are very recent
recent in terms of how I look.
So, I told her.
She almost seemed mad.
Mad that I didn’t look worse
worse from the wear and tear.
And after a few more digs
digs at me
I remembered
why we stopped
stopped all those years ago.
I used to put up
with more than I will now.
Now I try to do
whats good for me.
When you are hard
on yourself
It shows.
Shows to the world.
Some people can take
more of a beating than
others.
Others are more fragile.
Which type I am I don’t know.
So I erred
Erred on the side of
Caution.
And said my goodbye.
Goodbye to her once more.
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 11:18 PM UTC
pleasantly bothered,
with ***** came a violent lust,
honeysuckle, you suckled me
thunders struck as bodies aligned,
tongues entwined
I rocked with your rhythm,
your fingers had me opening up
like I was among the Primroses
you stroked at night
drunken eyes, gasping mouths
savage, reluctant, insatiable
you are, while I was, and still am
bewildered, dazed, but unfazed.
with the intoxication of spirits,
came a heavenly sin
Jun 21, 2022
Jun 21, 2022 at 11:27 AM UTC
Each sunday,
the owner's face lit up
as I popped in the neighborhood bodega
in need of paper towels, soap, toothpaste.
Occasionally, when I uttered the word “purple,”
his brown eyes glowed and he flashed me a smile
as he fetched the Trojan condoms behind the counter.
This week,
I came in on saturday,
he looked pleasantly surprised to see me,
earlier in the week.
until I reached the counter
holding tampons, desperate to stop my leaking body.
In my humanity,
I was no longer ****
not worthy of a smile.
Nor the well wishes of a nice evening.
His greetings had always had an invisible price tag,
exchanged for a glimmer of hope.
The hope that his kind words would
earn him a discount in the time it took
for me to live up
to his fantasy
one day.
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 7:43 PM UTC
Blue
The color I always imagine your eyes to be
Same as the sea
And I'm always pleasantly surprised
When they're both bluer than
I'd dreamt they'd be
Blue
The predetermined color to represent sadness
But I like the color blue
More than I like being sad
The only thing about blue that makes me sad
Is not seeing it
Blue
You imagine the sky should be this shade
Yet are always shocked
When it blooms a magical purple at night
And turns the softest pastel pink
At dawn
Red
The known color of fear, it scares me also
Reminds me of bad things
Dreams soaked in red
Are never ones to be retold
Though it looks magnificent on brown skin
Red
Representative of love
Yet war
Maybe that's why love always turns bad
Why we can get so angry
With the ones we hold dearest
Red
Reminds me of sweet apples
And sweeter lips
Of harlot lips, like the one's on that girl
The one you left me for
That Saturday evening the sky was blue
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 3:53 PM UTC
Midsummer --
I walk about with my staff.
Old farmers spot me
And call me over for a drink.
We sit in the fields
using leaves for plates.
Pleasantly drunk and so happy
I drift off peacefully
Sprawled out on a paddy bank.
4.4k
to feel your embrace is heaven on earth
your caress, your gentle aggresiveness
the deep pleading in your eyes for my body to be intertwined with yours..
we melt into one another
our souls connecting, our skin vibrating
pleasantly awaiting that moment of complete serenity
that bliss
the trembling of our tender quakes, lost in submission..
heads in the clouds, counting wisps of broken dreams
carrying the weight of the world in our hopeful hearts, beating together as
o n e
a solid entity
i stroke your cheek, imaginging for that moment that we are the only two on the planet
far-stretched across the galaxy
our very existence shedding light throughout the cosmos..
you wink, a guilty smile
knowing the thoughts floating thru my mind
ever-dreaming, lost in space & time with you..
we shed our skin, glowing in the naked vulnerability of our souls:
on display, for only us to see
a cloak of protection surrounding each other from the outside world
our love a vast secret of hope for all the jaded souls who hoard away their love
buried under heartache and unforgiveness
relentlessly hiding their shame
an atrocity to all those who've cast aside bitter memories
grasping at the void for acceptance and bliss..
the stars shine bright in the night sky
overwhelming me with their capacity to give and give, and never take
they shed their light over our swelling hearts, catering to our every wish
a beautiful gesture of pure loving kindness
a feat i will cherish for all of my days..
you stir slightly, not wanting to jolt me from my peaceful reverie
nonetheless, unabashedly watching me delight in the unfathomable universe surrounding us
your half-cracked smile says it all, as you glow with admiration
or is it my glow that is pouring over you?
quietly, i take your hand in mine, smoothing the hair on your neck
i rest my head in the crevice of your shoulder
thoughts drifting in and out
only heaven on earth remains
Aug 17, 2012
Aug 17, 2012 at 11:40 AM UTC
A pleasantly bubbling creak murmurs softly, complacently flowing as a creak does, day in and day out
By the crumbling bank stands a strong willow tree, rooted by the prolfic stream
Thoughtlessly taking the water of which it needs, a simple commodity to a tree of such stature and poise
And gracefully, beautifully shivering at the base of his trunk, there lives a daisy, white and pure
The willows roots indulge themselves, thirsting, thirsting for more
Negligent to the flower below who makes its view that much more lovely
Than just a simple stream, and who provides to the animals and children a blustery smile
Beckoning them to the shade where they might play and the daisy might watch over them
And as the roots take and take they choke the misguided flower, leave her to wither
One soft petal falls to the grass rendering her no more than a tainted ****
No child will ever present her to his good mother now
Not now that she is no longer the pure beauty she once was, not with such an imperfection
And though she may beg for mercy, she must weaken and give herself to the strong roots of the willow
Until she is but a dying cause with browned stale edges and though she lay so close to life, stable life
She does not possess the power to take rein so she the sage awaits the logger in silent knowingness
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 9:52 PM UTC
July 4, 2015
Grandson Tony and Grandpa went to Mickey D's for breakfast. Grandpa was ready to vacate the premises when Tony barred the door. "Just a little while longer Grandpa." So Grandpa sat back down.
Soon a cake and five of the Mickey D people appeared and sang happy birthday. Tony was apparently being a little secretive and alerted the establishment when we clocked in. Grandpa cut four pieces of cake. Two to take home for Lucy and Grandma. Two for Tony and Grandpa.
Tony then ask if he could give his piece of cake to someone. "Sure you can." grandpa replied. There were two tables with grandparent types and parents sitting 10 feet away. Tony picked up his piece a cake and a fork and squeezed in between the two tables and placed the cake in front of the young fella who eagerly began eating it. Grandpa then noted the boy had Downs Syndrome. The people at the table were pleasantly surprised at what had just happened. A grandmother came over where Grandpa was sitting and express that it was a very thoughtful thing Tony did. The whole thing rather blew Grandpa away. But that's the way Tony is. Full of surprises.
Mar 3, 2017
Mar 3, 2017 at 12:27 PM UTC
Seven in a week,
Disgusting, she hears you say,
The first one, well he maybe the last,
This one left religion chucked upon her path.
She loved very him much, just because she could.
He made her feel,
So relaxed, extreme tranquility.
The second one,
He gave her a super blast,
The third.
She loved him rapidly, with blazing renewed passion,
The third one was very hot, yesterday's one became forgot,
Had nothing much to offer her, so she washed him out of hair,
The fourth one he was wonderful,
She got half way through and then they stopped,
Gave up for the day.
The fifth one, he was noisy, he made too much racket,
****** fellow, just wanted to be one of the boys,
Got up and left without even goodbye,
Just shoved his finger in her eye.
Made her tears flow,
Only one more of them to go.
Very nearly over, had enough of them,
the days of the week so pleasantly displayed as flipping men.
Last one round was Saturday, a nothing much the matter day!
The end of the week brings with it relief!
(c) Livvi
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 5:27 AM UTC
It's been so long since I've used
an elementary school wish granting time
like "11:11" or "12:34"
But I noticed it by chance today;
I thought fondly of you
And I was pleasantly surprised
That you so easily sprung to mind.
I didn't wish for anything in particular
It's not that kind of night
But your name came up
And I was reminded
That everything always
turns out alright.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 4:15 AM UTC
Thoughts of you crackle in my mind,
a roaring fireplace of emotions.
affection,
peace,
care,
love.
Those things which border on obsession
weigh heavily on me
in the best way.
I am pleasantly drunk on dreams.
of what we'll do,
of who we'll be,
of starting anew,
of what you are to me.
You are a thing of beauty.
Those who could gaze upon you and walk away
know nothing of love.
How could they?
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 3:06 PM UTC
That tapestry,
Red, Black, Gold
A Celtic Circle--
silently bearing witness
to the proceedings
of that smoky room:
The aquariums--one with
the large eel who seemed
to barely fit the tank
that took up half the wall;
and the smaller, vibrantly
colored fish in the
aquarium with the eggshell
colored coral.
The remixed music played
at a comfortable volume,
by the DJ we knew
so well, together;
as many times
it hardly seemed like
he was working at all,
as he just sat down and
talked to us, for hours.
Looking through
those over-sized books of
old advertisements,
and explanations of
historical artwork;
discussing the contents
with strangers,
who became friends
in the process.
Smoke billowed, enveloping
the atmosphere and filling it
with the smell of many spice
racks, pleasantly rolled in a
shell of a soft breeze
flowing from the oscillating fan.
The smell of joy,
of a relaxed sense of mutual
understanding; that it was okay
not to say a word, because the
atmosphere did the talking
for us.
We just enjoyed sitting
on those red pleather couches
that your **** sank back into,
not allowing my feet to touch
the floor; so they often just
dangled, legs swinging
to the tempo of the music.
As I took a hit
of the hookah,
I manipulated the smoke
into O's, puckering
my lips, trying not
to laugh as you
gazed at me in a
shy sense of wonder.
That face always made you
want to kiss me.
Feb 5, 2012
Feb 5, 2012 at 3:38 AM UTC