"pureed" poems - Hello Poetry

Powdered sugar mountains Snowing with sweet Delectable dunes Infused insects Pureed peaks Zesty zeolites Caramelized clouds and Sauteed Sunshine These are a few of my favorite things.

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Dec 1, 2012

Dec 1, 2012 at 3:37 AM UTC

lilgoofy

Deserted Dessert

Powdered sugar mountains Snowing with sweet Delectable dunes Infused insects Pureed peaks Zesty zeolites Caramelized clouds and Sauteed Sunshine These are a few of my favorite things.

9

Oh ruinous apple, the flesh is too much and sweet as hell, sweet as chicken meat dripping off the bone to swim in pureed flesh on the tongue, oh ruinous apple, your stem is no longer a caterpillar, there is no tiny butterfly of a leaf on your dorsal. Oh ruinous apple, you say "I have grown old and hate my skin," hoping that it will finally be shredded and given to my belly. Oh ruinous apple, you are not so old to me, you have become a cougar in your old age and the seeds still make tambourine noises in your ********

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Feb 25, 2012

Feb 25, 2012 at 12:30 PM UTC

Waverly

The Apple.

Oh ruinous apple, the flesh is too much and sweet as hell, sweet as chicken meat dripping off the bone to swim in pureed flesh on the tongue, oh ruinous apple, your stem is no longer a caterpillar, there is no tiny butterfly of a leaf on your dorsal. Oh ruinous apple, you say "I have grown old and hate my skin," hoping that it will finally be shredded and given to my belly. Oh ruinous apple, you are not so old to me, you have become a cougar in your old age and the seeds still make tambourine noises in your ********

32

If there are Demons inside of me, then there is God. No metaphysical Jesus-Freak **** but the God that was there before Bibles and Holy Roman Empires and even Holier crusades, I'm talking about the God who ****** up one day and said, "this place needs humans." I'm talking about the God who put these Demons inside of me. The God who came to me when I was having a bad trip and told me-- even as I'm tripping and seeing pureed bodies slicking at my feet and I'm thinking ******** about screaming for help-- "It's going to be ok."

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Feb 10, 2012

Feb 10, 2012 at 8:47 PM UTC

Waverly

"It's going to be ok."

If there are Demons inside of me, then there is God. No metaphysical Jesus-Freak **** but the God that was there before Bibles and Holy Roman Empires and even Holier crusades, I'm talking about the God who ****** up one day and said, "this place needs humans." I'm talking about the God who put these Demons inside of me. The God who came to me when I was having a bad trip and told me-- even as I'm tripping and seeing pureed bodies slicking at my feet and I'm thinking ******** about screaming for help-- "It's going to be ok."

18

I like ANYTHING flavored with Onion ... I like Onion rings ... I like Onion straws ... I don't, however, care for them raw. In powder they're handy ... On 'taters they're prized ... And oh that smell ... As they become caramelized! I like French Onion Soup ... I like Onion crisps ... I like them in doses ... I like them in wisps ... On a side note ... I must be fair ... I prefer my friends with ... As many layers ... For seasoning meat ... As many have known ... That flavor infuses ... Right to the bone ... I like any type ... From any ground ... I've tried so many ... The world around ... I like them pureed ... In macaroni salad ... Minced in my meatloaf ... They're definitely valid ... I like how they smell ... Even like how they look ... But for some strange reason ... They MUST be cooked!

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Mar 1, 2018

Mar 1, 2018 at 12:01 PM UTC

Jeff-Gaines

Onions

I like ANYTHING flavored with Onion ... I like Onion rings ... I like Onion straws ... I don't, however, care for them raw. In powder they're handy ... On 'taters they're prized ... And oh that smell ... As they become caramelized! I like French Onion Soup ... I like Onion crisps ... I like them in doses ... I like them in wisps ... On a side note ... I must be fair ... I prefer my friends with ... As many layers ... For seasoning meat ... As many have known ... That flavor infuses ... Right to the bone ... I like any type ... From any ground ... I've tried so many ... The world around ... I like them pureed ... In macaroni salad ... Minced in my meatloaf ... They're definitely valid ... I like how they smell ... Even like how they look ... But for some strange reason ... They MUST be cooked!

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Vlad's favorite soup was such a treat eyeballs and skin slabs and fingers and feet he loved to **** on the sockets and bones and chew on the ears and noses of crones eyelids were good on bread made with blood but only if pureed to look just like mud

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Oct 23, 2021

Oct 23, 2021 at 10:13 AM UTC

sevennielsen

Vlad's Midnight Menu

Vlad's favorite soup was such a treat eyeballs and skin slabs and fingers and feet he loved to **** on the sockets and bones and chew on the ears and noses of crones eyelids were good on bread made with blood but only if pureed to look just like mud

12

I had learned to live without him, but that sunday afternoon was too heartbreaking my only hero, had left me. how was I to carry on? was it going to be easy? no. but there was nothing that could be done I was never at ease.. shattered, my soul pureed to me in a milkshake of melancholy but I carried on and im still standing strong today I moved on, and it was the only thing for me to do..

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Mar 3, 2015

Mar 3, 2015 at 2:43 PM UTC

reabetswe

my hero, my one and only.

I had learned to live without him, but that sunday afternoon was too heartbreaking my only hero, had left me. how was I to carry on? was it going to be easy? no. but there was nothing that could be done I was never at ease.. shattered, my soul pureed to me in a milkshake of melancholy but I carried on and im still standing strong today I moved on, and it was the only thing for me to do..

10

Monday trickles into Tuesday. Wednesday and Thursday blur out of focus. The weekend doesn't even happen. Suddenly it's Monday at the end of the month and you don't remember getting there. You don't remember eating or sleeping. You don't remember anything expect monotony. The days have been pureed into a monochromatic slush. Unappetizing and bland.

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Nov 11, 2017

Nov 11, 2017 at 11:58 PM UTC

ComeAsYouAre

Daily blend

Monday trickles into Tuesday. Wednesday and Thursday blur out of focus. The weekend doesn't even happen. Suddenly it's Monday at the end of the month and you don't remember getting there. You don't remember eating or sleeping. You don't remember anything expect monotony. The days have been pureed into a monochromatic slush. Unappetizing and bland.

11

The Super-Golly-Gee-Whiz Dog Food as Advertised on the Radio O Alpha and Omega 3 Fish Oil Now leach into Pup’s liver with great lust Bring Old Blue’s lycopene to a steamy boil Resurrect my beagle, O, yes, you must! O fatty magnesiumed manganese Seep into Fluffy’s geriatric joints Pureed from a genuine Portuguese (Lusitanian flesh never disappoints) Heart arrhythmia, rashes, and lumba-gee-oh - Trust your pet’s health to an ad on the radio!

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Nov 16, 2017

Nov 16, 2017 at 4:57 PM UTC

lawrence-hall

The Super-Golly-Gee-Whiz Dog Food as Advertised on the Radio

The Super-Golly-Gee-Whiz Dog Food as Advertised on the Radio O Alpha and Omega 3 Fish Oil Now leach into Pup’s liver with great lust Bring Old Blue’s lycopene to a steamy boil Resurrect my beagle, O, yes, you must! O fatty magnesiumed manganese Seep into Fluffy’s geriatric joints Pureed from a genuine Portuguese (Lusitanian flesh never disappoints) Heart arrhythmia, rashes, and lumba-gee-oh - Trust your pet’s health to an ad on the radio!

11

metallic morning mouth like the aliens were seeing how much metal this big ole mouth could hold then taking selfies #bigmetalmouth on Pleadian Instagram smiling Grey’s giant black eyes shinning into the Iphone – when I awoke my hat was too small and my denture too big because they don’t always put me back right…. or they leave a clone Sam to mindlessly fill in just a couple days…. (Which is why I can’t post poetry all the time) you know, while my actual body is paraded placed in a zoo and spectated at… like we do with lesser creatures – I wonder what they feed me or, if I maintain stasis perhaps if I were more diligent about my caloric intake I could monitor these trips based off variations in blood sugar and cholesterol levels video proof of being force fed sushi through a tube pureed rice and fish…. One morning i woke to refracted light dancing across my walls and ceiling with a strip in the sky to match the rainbow I sat alone as a young lad of maybe five wondering if this was always going to be a part of my life…… short answer, yes –

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May 11, 2016

May 11, 2016 at 5:40 PM UTC

s-lyman-temple

abduction free verse

metallic morning mouth like the aliens were seeing how much metal this big ole mouth could hold then taking selfies #bigmetalmouth on Pleadian Instagram smiling Grey’s giant black eyes shinning into the Iphone – when I awoke my hat was too small and my denture too big because they don’t always put me back right…. or they leave a clone Sam to mindlessly fill in just a couple days…. (Which is why I can’t post poetry all the time) you know, while my actual body is paraded placed in a zoo and spectated at… like we do with lesser creatures – I wonder what they feed me or, if I maintain stasis perhaps if I were more diligent about my caloric intake I could monitor these trips based off variations in blood sugar and cholesterol levels video proof of being force fed sushi through a tube pureed rice and fish…. One morning i woke to refracted light dancing across my walls and ceiling with a strip in the sky to match the rainbow I sat alone as a young lad of maybe five wondering if this was always going to be a part of my life…… short answer, yes –

48

Brain. Cancer. No... You sat on the stairs And told me. So matter of fact: It has come back, I'm sorry. No... I'm sorry. I was moving out, you were with- Out me for months. Your only daughter: the glue. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. The stark white hospitals walls And scratchy sheets, Sterile smell mixed with **** Pureed food on the beige tray. Nurses who forgot to feed you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You still smiled up until That final week. Somehow. I know you were so strong but The tumor weaved and molded Itself, made a home in your brain. You were my mother, But you were no where to be found... You had left your body long before. Kissed your cold cheek, Held your burning hands. Prayed To Someone Promised you it was okay to go. Screamed silently... How will we make it without you? The nights long and treacherous, My father asleep in the chair beside you. The oxygen tank whirling, Morphine under the tongue, Listen to your breathing. The pattern The changes Until. There was None.

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Feb 7, 2019

Feb 7, 2019 at 9:36 PM UTC

kelly-landis

Stage IV

Brain. Cancer. No... You sat on the stairs And told me. So matter of fact: It has come back, I'm sorry. No... I'm sorry. I was moving out, you were with- Out me for months. Your only daughter: the glue. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. The stark white hospitals walls And scratchy sheets, Sterile smell mixed with **** Pureed food on the beige tray. Nurses who forgot to feed you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You still smiled up until That final week. Somehow. I know you were so strong but The tumor weaved and molded Itself, made a home in your brain. You were my mother, But you were no where to be found... You had left your body long before. Kissed your cold cheek, Held your burning hands. Prayed To Someone Promised you it was okay to go. Screamed silently... How will we make it without you? The nights long and treacherous, My father asleep in the chair beside you. The oxygen tank whirling, Morphine under the tongue, Listen to your breathing. The pattern The changes Until. There was None.

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