"restaurant" poems
Man Woman
He Smiles Curiously She Blushes Coyly
He Approaches Asks her name She shares it Asks the Same
Mr Right Love at First Sight Her Smile is a Delight
"Meet for Drinks?" hmmmmmm "Pick me up at 8?"
He knocks - 1 rose. vase, water Her perfume - sweeter.
Politely, opens car door for her The night keeps getting better
At the restaurant She sips her red wine
Conversation so easy She feels she's known him forever
"Would you like to dance? "I don't dance very well."
"Indulge me, just want u in my arms." ~Just a smile~
One hand at her waist, one on her back.
They become one, all others disappear.
Peering into each other's eyes.
No words are needed.
Their bodies
say
it.
© 2012
Jul 6, 2012
Jul 6, 2012 at 11:07 PM UTC
ground zero
i become aware of boundaries
i am a dog chasing cars
i sing your voicemail to sleep
there are no surgeon general warnings
to tell me that
*the objects in the mirror
are more depressed than they appear*
so how do i tell you
that there are parts of my life
that move slower
without you in them?
or that i look for you every day
in emails & unanswered calls
in the sunrises
i didn't choose to be awake to watch
that i sometimes still stare at doorways hoping you would walk through them
stage 1 you tell your new lover you've got a splinter and they pull the sound of your body falling asleep on mine out of your fingertip
stage 2 your new lover says something at dinner that makes you choke so they call 911 & the paramedics do the hymleich not knowing you would ***** our promises all over the the restaurant
stage 3 your new lover surprises you by cleaning the house & washes the shirt you kept next to the bed, not knowing it was the last thing you had that smelled like me
after
people always ask
what was loving her like?
after a really long silence
i just say
"it must be nice"
but i never say
it's watching paint dry
i never say
it's a window seat in hell
i don't tell anyone
about the dreams
where i am reading you
bedtime stories
each one is a different way you die
& every time i can never save you
dreams where what i think
are angels in my bedroom
are just homeless versions
of myself you never loved
i have dreams
where i pay someone to shoot me
just to see if you would cry
just to see
if you would cradle my body
i don't tell people
that loving you is like
playing piano
for someone who can't hear
that it's hitting repeat
on my favorite song
& forgetting the words
every time it starts over
that it's finding out
there's no milk after you already
poured yourself a bowl of cereal
it's getting locked in the dark
& being told to
look on the bright side
that loving you is like
being reminded of what it felt like
the first time
you accidentally let go
of a balloon as a child
it's drowning without the water
it's the feeling you get
when you start to dance
& the song ends
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 3:30 PM UTC
*****
I like ***** I like ****
before you touch, you must get permits.
Nothing like a nice pair of assets,
oh how puppies make nice pets.
Bazongas are ***** that are large,
strippers and hookers, will always charge.
Nothing like the perfect *****
but only on the perfect woman.
******* are yummy dark or white,
but first you must wait for an invite.
Some girls even have a third ******
do not squeeze says Mr. Whipple.
I don't mind girls on the itty, bitty, ***** committee,
on a carpenters dream, I show no pity.
They could be called a bust, some call them cans,
a woman's squeeze box, all men are fans.
Chesticles is a term I have never heard,
but everyday, I learn a new word.
I like cones, I like jugs,
girls with big ones, I give hugs.
Al Bundy loved calling them *******
at the restaurant, I wish I was one of the recruiters.
A girl with a nice set of knockers,
might find herself with unwanted stalkers.
Fergie sang about her lovely lady lumps,
a good set of melons, still give me goose bumps.
***** always come in a pair,
why do bra's, they have to wear.
Even men who smoke lots of crack,
still can appreciate a good sized rack.
I don't care if there fake or real.
in a crowded room, I always cop a feel.
Girls love showing off some cleavage,
I wish I lived in a ***** village.
Babies need breast milk to make them stronger,
if the mom is hot, they may do it longer.
In conclusion, I love *****
with whipped cream or melting ice cubes.
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 3:49 PM UTC
she was leaving
and got the gumption
to see me before she did
so we went to dinner
she sat, crumpled
at the edge of the booth
playing with her silverware
hands sweating
our knees barely touching
underneath the table
they shook like the day we met
they shook like floodgates
when the clouds get upset
her hair was drawn back
into an apology
and she didn't answer
when the waiter asked for drinks
she pans, tilts
looking for the restroom
but doesn't get up
covers her mouth
to hide her furled chin
i cut her a piece of bread
not sparingly
i didn't want to ruin the symbolism
of cutting a gangrenous thing
from ones self
she half wept out "tell me a joke"
i thought to say "look at us."
that's it. that's the joke.
the premise & the punch line
sharing some silence
here in this ominous moment
so thick with goodbye
you could touch it
i said "when they asked what the name was for the wait, i should've said "awkward, party of 2"
but that's not the joke
"knock knock"
she whispered "who's there?"
i sat for a moment and said
"so we've come full circle.. we're even in the same seats, from all those months ago"
her lips quivered
and she hid her mouth
"i just wanted to hear a joke"
she said
i came back with
"if i fell for you in a quiet restaurant & no one was around to hear it, does the laughter of children i drempt we'd have make a sound?"
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 7:19 PM UTC
do you ever wonder
about the difference between
looking at something
and the hallucination created
when looking past it?
if you look at your hand
it's all you can see
but if you look past your hand
there are now two of them
sometimes it's hard for me
to remember which is real
it gets me thinking
about how my father
used to wake me up
in the morning by rubbing
his stubble across my face
i spent my 11th birthday
under the assumption
that he might come back
if i drank his aftershave
like maybe if i could turn blue
if i could be his favorite color
on our bathroom floor
he would forget why he left
the paramedics were all sobing
as they pumped memories
out of my stomach
i coughed up the day the post-it note with your new address on it
burned a hole in our refrigerator
coughed up the day
the divorce papers came
and my mother
took a baseball bat to the mailbox
i've been choking on the splinters
for 17 years
it's been 17 years
since the last dinner plate
exploded on our dining room wall
17 years since my mother
started accidentally setting your place at the dinner table
17 years since italian night
at the restaurant on the corner
where the juke box
spat tired music
and like so many other things
it stopped working when you left
i guess it's no coincidence
since the juke box went quiet
that the cds in my car
only skip on "i miss you"
i've been hemorrhaging memories
for so long
and now that i'm looking back
i can no longer tell
the mirage from the truth
sometimes i swear
you showed up to my graduation
and last time
i was at your apartment
i can't remember
if the imprints of my hands
are in clay hanging on your wall
or if they were left in the mud
the day god had the audacity
to let it rain
or maybe it's like the time
i saw someone crying on a bridge
now that i think about it
i can't remember if it was me
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 12:53 AM UTC
Take me to the art museum and kiss me by the paintings, Take me to the deeper parts of the oceans, so deep that any coral reef will be jealous that we will survive, Take me to that little ice cream shop my parents use to go on dates to when they were hopelessly in love and I'll let you order your favorite ice cream, Take me to the Chinese restaurant where my schizophrenic grandmother use to take me on late night outings and I'll kiss you in every booth, take me to New Jersey, to that beach where your parents stood in the same room and introduced you to home, take me to your bed, talk to me about those parts of your body not everyone gets to meet, take me to an abandoned hospital and let me take your blood on a canvas and make it resemble the Mona Lisa, so that people years from now glorify us, take me to the hill where I first tried ******* and let's make our hearts beat in sync with the breath of the flowers surrounding us, take me to that bench in the school gym where we met and kiss me, kiss me like you've never kissed anyone before, kiss me as if it'll be the last lips you ever touch, kiss me as if your life depended on it, take me to the edge of the universe and I'll show you the end of my love.
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 9:37 AM UTC
On the border of
U.S and Mexico
someone saw
a ZULU.
On the ice-land of
Netherlands
with ice area birds
a team was seen- a team
of ZULU.
On the sea-shore of
Caribbean
some persons were
swimming
People were saying- ZULU
A new brand of
baby foods
which was only on
e-commerce site,called
- ZULU
A coffe
restaurant chain's name
in Africa was-ZULU
A scientist's
research
project's
secret password was-
that has been changed
from 'a' to double
'u'-ZULU.
It was zala
not zulu
Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 11:28 AM UTC
*she dragged me out of the house
knowing i was feeling down
not allowing me to wallow
in my self pity,
she dressed me,
painted my face
fashioned my hair,
that’s my girl friend
at Juliana’s,
small family owned Italian restaurant,
a gem of a find, she said,
Lorenzo, greeted her with familiarity
(she leaves a memorable impression)
she introduced me as her bestie
with a twinkle in her eye
young (as all under 30 people are to me)
handsome, dark thick curly haired,
with dancing eyes,
a serving towel over his left arm
nodded with a genuine smile
i smiled back despite my mood
wine was swirled, smelled,
sampled and selected
a captivating performance,
executed expertly
she watched me
watching him
describe the specials
with a melodic Italian accent
transforming my mood
garlic knots wafting with his stride,
placed on the table
with a small bowl of marinara sauce
still hovering
in his long lean fingers
it slipped,
splattering red stain
on the pristine white cloth
without skipping a beat
his eyes poured into mine
words emerged
“forgive me, your beauty made me nervous”*
Dec 6, 2017
Dec 6, 2017 at 8:34 AM UTC
Eroding brick wall
all that remains
refracted, fading
fishermen shadow
red dawn’s early light
brackish still water
shocked violent green
seeps from the desert
to be subsumed
by an unrelenting sea
restless dreamers rise
muscle sturdy pangas
into the churning tide
seeking quicksilver
at the continental edges
returning boats ride low
the shrinking horizon
race to safe harbor
cold beer on ice
under palm palapas
in the restaurant
a young man
shows off tuna
half as tall as he is
to admiring tourists
like me, seeking
the deep, slow burn
salt, jalapeno, lime
a fitting end to this
unraveling dream
Pueblo Mágico
of “no bad days”
walls of contention
in a fractured land
will never separate us
one margarita, two
another raised in defiance
of those who would try
to confine and define
free-range spirits
the Pacific touches
this contiguous shore
from equator to pole
we could catch
a clockwise current
follow Polaris up North
arrive transformed
magnetically charged
disparate souls fused
together bound
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 8:38 AM UTC
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
maybe the buildings are hollow,
occupied only in facade on the first floor of storefronts
maybe this whole town is a hologram
of neon against puddles
on the pavement.
maybe the citizens are ghosts
floating by
in circles, or squares of city blocks,
around a routine,
or droning through on electric scooters
as if on muted theme park rides
to the next sensory diversion;
to the nearest gastronomical pleasure;
toward the weekend and its next party
celebrating the loss of time,
I see their tired faces
staring out from the glass
of coffeeshop windows
on every block.
I see their piles of beer cans
beside the trash chute.
I hear them singing
on booze-cruises to nowhere
What part of this cycle
that turns days into dust
moves us closer to heaven?
What feast from what new restaurant downtown
will feed our souls?
From which lonely night do we finally emerge
beside the one
whose presence fills
these hollow buildings
to the top-most floors?
Which of the empty lots
between us do we fill
with a conversation
about how this is all a dream,
or how we'll keep each other awake
on a bench
beneath a street lamp before dawn
waiting for the first bus to take us home.
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 12:25 AM UTC
Phone in your home
Phone with you on the road
Three way connections
Incoming calls, not one, but another-aka call waiting
Phones with caller ID
Cordless phones
Hands free phones
Toothy phones sticking out of people's ears
Picture phones...say cheese!
Phone texting instead of talking
Hello? I cannot hear you!
Television and movies in your home
DVD players in your car
Watch those images on your computer
Watch them on your cell phone
Television in the airport
Television in the restaurant
Television at the gas pump
Television in the grocery store line
What's next? Television in the operating room?
Music on your home stereo
Music on your car radio
Store it all on your traveling ipod
Melodious cell phone rings everywhere
Your mp3 player and new computer speakers
Your favorite cable music channels
And plenty of music blasted in the stores
Can't I just have a thought to myself?
Don't forget computers!
Instant messaging
Junk mail in cyberspace
All your shows and movies
always at your instant access
Computer dating
Computer stalkers and hacking
Computer crashes I foresee
because computer bugs and viruses
are trying to invade my soul!
And I feel sick!
I can't get that music out of my head!
I think my ears are ringing!
You've heard of couch potatoes
I think I'm a mouse potato!
How is that for a human spud?
Yes, I admit I'm addicted to my PC!
That I spend more time with technology
than I do with the human race!
I should be burnt out
like old hardware
that is on extreme overload
Not made of wires and steel
but of flesh and blood
I am designed!
But I can't stop!!!
The technology of the future is now here!
I know what George Jetson was saying when he said:
JANE! GET ME OFF THIS CRAZY THING!
Aug 12, 2010
Aug 12, 2010 at 1:46 PM UTC
No, you're wrong.
Everyone is as beautiful
as they can possibly be
Particularly at lunch
in a laughing restaurant
Everyone is as beautiful
as they can possibly be
And they are moved
by their own beauty
And they shed tears for it
in the back of the taxi home
14.3k
My baby moves in jumps and flutters inside me,
like the barn swallows that make nests
of dirt and twigs outside the restaurant.
Yesterday they disappeared
and I learned that a maintenance man came and hosed them down.
Tragic, he said.
But necessary.
Too much bird ****
When I got pregnant
it felt like waking up at the top of a roller coaster.
And then an engagement.
Somehow
this is how my life is going
and somehow it does not feel like cliche.
Ask as many what-ifs as you want
but there is just a single trajectory.
Even though you have to fall asleep one day
before waking in the next.
Moving through concentric circles and trying to find the center.
Biology is happening
in a part of me that I am still getting to know.
Kaleidoscoping.
She was once the size of a grape
but now I read she can blink her eyelids.
She is also not like the barn swallows.
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 7:00 PM UTC
Aren't they supposed to be people, too?
Pigment is really that important?
They are not *****
A separate restaurant,
Drinking fountain,
Theater,
Bench,
Everything!
Because you can deal with "different" people.
They had "rights,"
But if they were considered people, the segregation would not have happened. They had no choice.
The conditions were worse.
How is that fair?
Hardly any jobs were open to them.
And I know you know exactly what I am
Talking about, but I never said once
That almost everyone called them that one despicable word:
******
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 10:24 PM UTC
Silent as the storm
Black as the nights sky
You never know when its coming
Temperature ranging from hot to cold
Moon swings come and they go
She can make you feel like the lowest **** on earth
Or make you feel like a King
We are in a league of our own
The take no mess take charge kind of woman
Sweet as honey beautiful as the sunset
She’ll drain you and leave you begging for more
With her smooth complexion hair just right
Dress to impress and the legs smooth as silk
Her take charge attitude with sophistication
Can work the room in any situation
Wither in the boardroom, fancy restaurant
or at home with family and friends
She can cut you down without missing a beat
Leave you standing there wondering what happen
A work of art in her own right
A independent women but can make you feel
Like you are needed always treating you like you the man
A way with words that will leave no room argument
Will cut so deep leave you grasping for breath
But you can never want to hurt this woman
Cuz she can turn on you like Cain turn on Abel
We are devious creatures and with a devious mind
And a women who is scorn is a dangerous combination
A woman with so much confidence
It will make you sit up and take notice
But at the same time she knows her place
As a women by your side
While all the while bringing home the bacon, cook it and serve it to you like royalty
Watch out cause she’s on the rise
As a strong independent black woman
Never fearing of the two strikes against her
In this mans world that we live in
So watch out, take notice and pay attention because she is unstopable
Dec 6, 2010
Dec 6, 2010 at 9:25 AM UTC
I always feel sentimental when it rains,
So, on sad days like this I leave the house without an umbrella.
With my headphones in,
listening to our favourite songs,
I walk past your old house.
Or the cheap restaurant we always went to.
Just so I can let my heart feel close to you again.
I must be so pathetic.
but when the rain stops
You will exist only as another memory.
So, I embrace the droplets on my skin,
Even if I do catch a cold.
On sad days like this I cannot help but wonder
if it’s raining where you are,
if you think of me.
So, until the next time it rains, we walk our own paths.
Jul 1, 2018
Jul 1, 2018 at 5:40 AM UTC
"I seem to recall a world where people weren't such a-holes all the time, but maybe I'm just paying more attention" ~ quote by some guy smoking a cigarette outside of a restaurant
Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 2:12 PM UTC
I threw out his socks today.
Those ******* socks.
Long Black Nike Socks that went up to his calves.
Long Black Nike Socks that he wore with his Two Hundred Dollar
French Raw Denim Jeans because he needed the Short Black Nike Socks
To wear to work with his Khaki Dickies Shorts.
Black Nike Socks that he reminded me for months he "needed"
For his birthday in order to function properly.
Black Nike Socks that didn't cost enough to be considered
A sufficient birthday gift,
Along with some other cute things (I thought),
Including a homemade coupon for dinner at
Any restaurant of his choice.
Short Black Nike Socks whose thirty-dollar price tag
Wasn't quite up to par with the forty-dollar
Concert ticket his obviously-better-than-me friend had
So benevolently bought him.
Those ******* socks.
Aug 19, 2011
Aug 19, 2011 at 6:54 PM UTC
If all you've ever wanted was material things
and the perfect lover
with the adorable personality
who takes you on coffee shop dates
and buys your happiness
you are the problem with society
If all you've ever wanted was money,
money to buy that car,
or to travel to that place,
or to eat at that restaurant,
then you, my friend, are not part of the truth
Reality is that life is never what it seems
and these materials will some day turn to dust
along with you and I
Don't let materialism be your vice
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 5:05 PM UTC
Nothing quite makes sense
Try defining this
Why calculators
are only encouraged
after high school
So "they" can say
In America
we know trigonometry, calculus
Or algebra
all in order to
pump gas
work at Lowe's,
Walmart or a restaurant
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 3:17 AM UTC
Filled to the brim
Pizza Huts
Burning rubber
Dj''s club'n pub
Dancing duel
Free spirits and
**** riddled
Irie cast Bob's Inn
The beat go's on
Bright lights
Stripped trousers
Men on bikes
Ladies sell flowers
Restaurant's cappuccino
Long street lives
Cosmopolitan heaven
Twenty four seven
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 2:33 PM UTC
I’m currently sitting in the coldest clinic,
Across from, probably,
the cheapest Mexican restaurant in Western Arizona.
The floors are sterile white,
And I giggle at the thought
of you
recognizing the irony
Of my emptiness.
The walls are also white and look slick with Lysol.
They radiate that dampness
that I swear that they smell
like loneliness,
We didn’t make love,
So much as **** in the dirt,
But the truth is
I’d rather wake up hot in the afternoon
on the dirt and the ground
(After you’ve already left)
Than wake up next to
The wrong person
in the wrong bed.
From earthy and raw
so quickly
to empty and white.
Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 8:21 PM UTC