"rasberry" poems - Hello Poetry

I can see you there standing in your studio relishing in the faces of your followers creaming their jeans over your creations lightbulbs hanging from the cealing by telephone cords and photographs of babies dressed as dictators trying to prove that innocence still exists when we both know that this world was robbed of its innocence a million years ago you might fool some people but I can see right through you professional hipster, wearing tie dye underneath your skin and an overpriced suit on the outside painting your lips with designer brand translucent rasberry lipstick and kissing your acquaintances a kiss for each cheek I want to know how you can fake it so well hiding behind your little purple door counting money while I’m busy counting lies was it easy to push your dreams so far away so deep in the back of your mind that they may as well be in your shoes did you ever think you’d be here that you’d sell your soul to the devil because I’m afraid that you might be my future and I would rather stand at the end of the dock with Mr.Gatsby gazing at the green light across the river holding on to hope forever

0

Mar 9, 2013

Mar 9, 2013 at 8:03 PM UTC

TheBlackBird

Professional Hipster

I can see you there standing in your studio relishing in the faces of your followers creaming their jeans over your creations lightbulbs hanging from the cealing by telephone cords and photographs of babies dressed as dictators trying to prove that innocence still exists when we both know that this world was robbed of its innocence a million years ago you might fool some people but I can see right through you professional hipster, wearing tie dye underneath your skin and an overpriced suit on the outside painting your lips with designer brand translucent rasberry lipstick and kissing your acquaintances a kiss for each cheek I want to know how you can fake it so well hiding behind your little purple door counting money while I’m busy counting lies was it easy to push your dreams so far away so deep in the back of your mind that they may as well be in your shoes did you ever think you’d be here that you’d sell your soul to the devil because I’m afraid that you might be my future and I would rather stand at the end of the dock with Mr.Gatsby gazing at the green light across the river holding on to hope forever

27

Wrought-wide eyes from catching clouds on the safety of our backs Who's lifting who dried-up with the fossils, tucked away at Jack's Can you capture the oily maze of Perla, Gary, Glen AND Dee? We should cap the treasure trove. Just one shell. Alright... three. Passenger mats drowned long ago in quartets of sandy shoes They're coming around to dukkah, but beetroot's an ongoing feud. We'll find our way back to purple-brown after art class in year nine Until then just squeeze my hand when they see **** every time. Curse words stowed beneath our necks, cellared with the red wine. Pull binoculars out in twenty years to seek parrots in sun spines. Trick them into dusking walks, the promise of ice cream at Kateri Squealing across Eileen's golden grain, I hope they pick Rasberry. He swirls the sand beneath him and burrows his sweet brow. She builds bridges for fairies and writes names in stick-crayon. I'll say they're just like us, one day when they can stand it least Until then their just like you dreamboat, floating down my east.

0

Feb 15, 2021

Feb 15, 2021 at 10:39 PM UTC

stea_lthyfox

Four

Wrought-wide eyes from catching clouds on the safety of our backs Who's lifting who dried-up with the fossils, tucked away at Jack's Can you capture the oily maze of Perla, Gary, Glen AND Dee? We should cap the treasure trove. Just one shell. Alright... three. Passenger mats drowned long ago in quartets of sandy shoes They're coming around to dukkah, but beetroot's an ongoing feud. We'll find our way back to purple-brown after art class in year nine Until then just squeeze my hand when they see **** every time. Curse words stowed beneath our necks, cellared with the red wine. Pull binoculars out in twenty years to seek parrots in sun spines. Trick them into dusking walks, the promise of ice cream at Kateri Squealing across Eileen's golden grain, I hope they pick Rasberry. He swirls the sand beneath him and burrows his sweet brow. She builds bridges for fairies and writes names in stick-crayon. I'll say they're just like us, one day when they can stand it least Until then their just like you dreamboat, floating down my east.

16

Blue looks like a nice cool pool on a hot summer day. Blue tastes like a sour blueberry in my mouth. Blue feels like nice cold rain on my whole body. Blue sounds like an ocean wave crashing against the shore. Blue smells like a blue rasberry slushy at a fair.

0

Nov 14, 2015

Nov 14, 2015 at 12:53 AM UTC

Pikachu

Blue

Blue looks like a nice cool pool on a hot summer day. Blue tastes like a sour blueberry in my mouth. Blue feels like nice cold rain on my whole body. Blue sounds like an ocean wave crashing against the shore. Blue smells like a blue rasberry slushy at a fair.

5

Remember how it started... Rasberry mocha ....Postcard from Chicago Making love on the lifeguard tower How we we soaked the sheets .... in your apartment...that Blistering summer Pedaling through sunshine To find the largest brews ...Reading in bed Making a home... Our kitten burrito ...Lazy afternoons Spooning to football ...on the sofa Your Masters show Sundays in the print room ...The giant press It took both of us to turn the wheel My favorite friend My favorite laugh How I fell so much more in love with you ...each time you sang to me... ****** voice} ......'Mon Cheri' Amore' Our nephews...so tiny in our hands ... Christmas gingerbread And quarters on the living room floor Standing in the rain for hours to help a stranger;...78 bites later I never felt more beaUtiful than that day// in that dress// I do and I did How we fit so perfectly/puzzled ...but we still fell to pieces

0

Dec 29, 2015

Dec 29, 2015 at 10:57 PM UTC

TreadingWater

ever after

Remember how it started... Rasberry mocha ....Postcard from Chicago Making love on the lifeguard tower How we we soaked the sheets .... in your apartment...that Blistering summer Pedaling through sunshine To find the largest brews ...Reading in bed Making a home... Our kitten burrito ...Lazy afternoons Spooning to football ...on the sofa Your Masters show Sundays in the print room ...The giant press It took both of us to turn the wheel My favorite friend My favorite laugh How I fell so much more in love with you ...each time you sang to me... ****** voice} ......'Mon Cheri' Amore' Our nephews...so tiny in our hands ... Christmas gingerbread And quarters on the living room floor Standing in the rain for hours to help a stranger;...78 bites later I never felt more beaUtiful than that day// in that dress// I do and I did How we fit so perfectly/puzzled ...but we still fell to pieces

33

sorry, this is not an r.e.m. self-loathing session concerning happy shiny people; the beatles or the rolling stones? well... it was never about elvis or roy O either... hands down... or what joseph II might have said of bowie having said of mozart: too many thoughts... well... for the pop appeal? hands down, monkey juggling trick while playing a harmonica using its *** prince's: RASBERRY BERET... and apparently he owns the copyrights on youtube too... old school buying a CD and ripping it onto a ****** MP3 and... having a beer and doing a little dance in the street... and then: Moroccan ass-dancer in the bedroom between drinks... Moroccan ass-dancer? yeah... those perv arabs in north africa like the belly of a woman... but the men are ass-dancers... **** you r.e.m.! you give amphetamines euphoria and sugar to people... and then what?! Xenox first impressions?! fuck you... at least prince had the dignity to laugh in his head... ha ha... yeah... that was fun... pop! pop! who the hell is going after if you were mine?

0

Jun 7, 2018

Jun 7, 2018 at 8:01 PM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

Moroccan ass-dancers

sorry, this is not an r.e.m. self-loathing session concerning happy shiny people; the beatles or the rolling stones? well... it was never about elvis or roy O either... hands down... or what joseph II might have said of bowie having said of mozart: too many thoughts... well... for the pop appeal? hands down, monkey juggling trick while playing a harmonica using its *** prince's: RASBERRY BERET... and apparently he owns the copyrights on youtube too... old school buying a CD and ripping it onto a ****** MP3 and... having a beer and doing a little dance in the street... and then: Moroccan ass-dancer in the bedroom between drinks... Moroccan ass-dancer? yeah... those perv arabs in north africa like the belly of a woman... but the men are ass-dancers... **** you r.e.m.! you give amphetamines euphoria and sugar to people... and then what?! Xenox first impressions?! fuck you... at least prince had the dignity to laugh in his head... ha ha... yeah... that was fun... pop! pop! who the hell is going after if you were mine?

42