"rubbery" poems
i'm your o so wanna be lover
I'm afraid not what you would expect though
i admit to being a difficult pleasure
perhaps
a tad strange looking
squishy with long tentacles
half man half octopus
with a winking cycloptic eye
i entreat you
looks can be deceiving
how many pretty boys have you loved
crawling worms for a soul
that have left you a ruined creel
a jagged cry chattering tears of desolation
have you ever asked your self
who adores you
who would give all to protect love and cherish
i'm waving my eight arms at you
from the center of the universe
i eat black holes to kiss your ***
am i not a cosmic horror
with my big Cthulhu smile
quivering with tenderness
do you hunger for butter **** lollypop
i have two big **** heartbreakers
with teardrop curves
a feast for your ravenous holes of emptiness
and many armed tentacles to hold you tight
to slither all over your tender woven caves
to pull you into me
with suckers that thrill
during swirling inky *****
i will unravel your mind
your soul tilthed
if you can get passed
my
gray rubbery boneless head
i can push this shape-shifting balloon face
through your annul tubular contours
all the way up your beautiful ***
licking
salivating
tickling into your
tender bowel and throat
like a great dancing tongue
a stretched waving goodness
entering your mouth from the back side
can pretty pretty do that?
come slowly unto me my beloved
i am all chromatophores
endless glittering nightlights
incandescent
so we may wander our way through long dim nights ******
in the deep deep dark
with tentacle ***** galore
an infinity of entertainment
for every crevice and desire
and one winking cycloptic eye
that pierces your soul
Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 3:31 PM UTC
I hope my good old ******* holds out
60 years it's been mostly OK
Tho in Bolivia a fissure operation
survived the altiplano hospital--
a little blood, no polyps, occasionally
a small hemorrhoid
active, eager, receptive to phallus
coke bottle, candle, carrot
banana & fingers -
Now AIDS makes it shy, but still
eager to serve -
out with the dumps, in with the condom'd
******** friend -
still rubbery muscular,
unashamed wide open for joy
But another 20 years who knows,
old folks got troubles everywhere -
necks, prostates, stomachs, joints--
Hope the old hole stays young
till death, relax
March 15, 1986, 1:00 PM
8.1k
Songster, not as sinister as they say,
she's no monster, just admittedly
a bit lost in her way.
she caves as I'm walking
down the hall.
I pick her up, off of that flooring,
the rubbery kind, whatever it is,
I guess it's rubber, but the kind that
squeaks when you walk on it after
coming in from the rain; to hell with poetry.
And so anyways I pick her up
and sit her on this bench next to me
and give her about five minutes to come to
terms with breathing and pick shimmering
auburn hair out of the tears smeared across her face,
two, mesmerizing, perfectly blue wells
the source of the streams.
And then I ask her what that
was all about and she blurts out that she
belongs in the Fine Arts Department,
and her car broke down months ago
but her father
doesn't give a **** about it,
because she can't lay up the basketball
or steal the base and so he honorably
lump summed her entire tuition
and sent her to another state
and how ****** she would be
if she had to get a job for the first
time at the age of twenty three
so she wouldn't have to be
dependent on her family and
that she was sick of wondering why
not a single guy had ever given her
a ******* flower
and that if she ever did end up liking one
two weeks later she would find out that he
was exactly the same as the others and
she had a broken look in her eyes
when she said she wondered why we were
all here in the first place, and how we were
made this way, and if people were actually
ever meant to fit together or not;
*what if there was nothing as certain
as two halves making a whole?*
She wanted to know how everyone's
mind had a different game to play,
she wanted to know why Jupiter
had to be so far away and everything in
between.
We had strolled off of the school grounds by
this time but I still looked twice before pulling out my flask.
I unscrewed the cap, handed it to her and said
*follow me to Deadbeat Hollow,
where we've already thrown
our problems out of the window*
and she said
lets go.
May 11, 2012
May 11, 2012 at 9:46 PM UTC
Squeeze your feet into synthetic fins.
See the world in big rubbery lenses.
Don’t forget the snorkel, of course! Bite tight.
Hobble to the shore,
Where the two worlds meet.
The sea splashes gently on the sand.
It hurls itself forward
And then recedes back.
Its motions are like gestures,
Telling you to draw close
And closer.
Its peaceful surface is an invitation itself,
Painted blue and glittered with sunshine.
Accept the invitation with gladness.
Don't be afraid!
Let the briny waters embrace you.
Let the cold tickle your skin.
Let the waves rock you back and forth.
You have entered a grand ballroom
Illuminated with a majestic chandelier of refracting sunlight.
The colorful corals with shapes of mounds, disks, and crowns,
Sway with the rhythm of the current.
The fishes dance around and about,
Each beaded with scales of various vibrant colors.
And then the reef ends.
The colors abruptly plunge into a black abyss.
Look down and allow yourself to be
Filled with fear, terror,
Or maybe
Insatiable curiosity.
Now let that curiosity stir discontentment in you:
Discontentment with snorkeling.
Let it ignite a craving for
More thrill, more wonder.
It's time to go deep sea diving.
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 10:28 AM UTC
My throat’s all scratched from this screaming I’ve done
My diaphragm is all rubbery from these animal calls
But I carry on until you answer my distresses
O Captain, o Captain! Take me away from these generic hoes
I’m too swag for this ghetto
These ******* be hatin’ but you were always mine for the takin’
So take me now—like I did you…
Please. We’re friends. We’ve partied together and cried together.
I even bought you taco bell.
Take me away on your disco stick because
This club can’t handle me and my electric *** pants
What good is your love when just our chakras touch…
I need your grasp, I need your smell…and your **** dramatic stare
Captain, my Captain, you may not be fly like Kanye
And I may not be glam like Beyoncé,
But this club can’t handle us right now
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 7:31 AM UTC
warthogs for men singing amen
i ink my scars with a ball point pen
buffalo grass and ******
they want *** but won't die
i want *** but it's not me
they tell me that I'm pretty
i smoke **** in a blazing forest
i feel as rubbery as a curious tourist
and plenty of coke goes in my nose
i bleed headaches, when it rains it snows
i'm dreaming of a white christmas, i suppose
with my squad when i don't want to feel alone
i make lies but can't hide like room raiders
i cut up coke for all my haters
with a side of oxy
tells me that I'm foxy
right before he knocks me
my brain goes on high alert
i can taste my stomach
because cake was yesterday's desert
i say that we're proxies
i take the red pill
some like oxys
some like bikini ****
some nights aren't so chill
some brains are mentally ill
but he doesn't like to feel, y'feel
tell me if you want a
*** flavored banana
a broken heart from havana
or to drink my coke flavored blood
dragging me through the mud
whoops
son of sam
touch my **** like we're not fam
drug me if you want to slam
my head off the coffee table
i'll choke on fear until i'm not stable
i pretend i'm in a fable
this can't be real
does he not feel
break it off and shove it down my throat
cut me into pieces
make a blood moat
oak splinters suffered through winters in my spine
find you in jail and you ask if i'm fine
i break off rhymes like i break out grams
shaking because of a spiked promise
i wish i wasn't here
i wish i wasn't here
sham in the garden of clouds. when you 'fuck' you want people around
when i cry, you hear no sound
buffalo grass and ******
they **** off but ask why
my box in their face
i don't want to be in this place
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 6:32 PM UTC
As rain beats down on canvas,
I squeeze my face through the zip.
The clouds are swelling and angry;
The wind hits my cheeks like a whip.
I retreat to the core of my tent
And trip on the wellies inside.
Still covered in last year's mud,
These purple boots fill my mind.
I am fond of my waterproof shoes.
I ponder their rubbery struggles:
Abandoned for most of the year,
But mighty when dealing with puddles.
The water rises and enters,
It covers my groundsheet in mud,
But I've got wellington armour
To conquer the enemy flood.
I must learn to rely on my wellies,
When storm clouds rumble and growl.
I have come to a happy conclusion:
My wellies will not let me drown.
I squeeze through the zip of my tent
And plant my feet in the slime.
I am met by a brave fellow camper
Wearing wellies the colour of mine.
There are porches all over the country
With lonesome wellies inside.
If ever a storm is a-brewing,
Put them on, take it all in your stride.
Jan 13, 2017
Jan 13, 2017 at 9:21 AM UTC
"The elephant seal is an unsightly creature.
I heard it today on TV
Then a special on smart and wonderful dolphins
Who never would wish to be me"
"All this rubbery ******* I use for a face
That my mother just says she adores
Is a hideous masking of elephantine proportions
That nobody else could afford"
You're not ugly, oh dear elephant seal!
You are mountains more graceful than that
Don't ever wish you were a rabbit
A turtle, a dog, or a curious cat
So a parrot can talk,
But it gets him in trouble
And a hamster is cuddly
But untidy--makes his home in the rubble
Sure, you haven't got fur
but you haven't got mange!
You're spick-and-span as your ocean
Your sea home-on-the-range
And your nose is real big
But you've never been nosey
You are much too polite
To make others un-cozy
I have watched you go swimming
You're majestic as waves
And you love to explore
All the watery caves
You have beautiful eyes
And I think you're just swell
Look, someday, you'll be happy
You'll be so proud as well
"Well I guess I am funny
I like to make friends
I've gotten good at catching squids
And other popular trends"
See--that's just the spirit!
You're as magnificent as any
But what makes you so great?
You're more humble than many
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 2:09 AM UTC
I recall her stripping me naked
Then she danced around the bed
Slowly, enticingly disrobing her voluptuous form
Her firm breast bouncing free from her bra
My ******** began to ache
As she slipped her tounge around it's head
Her ******* hard & rubbery adorned
the fleshy mountains I saw
Hands wrapped around each
I stroked & squeezed & suckeled
Her wet crotch sliding down my leg
Left a sticky trail
Her mouth found a throbing shift
And stoked it to it's base
Where there she ****** in my *****
And gently rolled them in her mouth
And around her face
Up the shaft she came again
though this time it slide down
Her throught, warm & wet & exhaled
Again & again she went
I almost surcumed
I pushed her back
And dove between her thighs
My tounge found that sweet spot
between the sticky lips
Lapping up her sweet honey drips
Sliding my tounge from one end to the other
******* on that harden ****
Until she gushed more sticky stuff
Then slowly I plunged as deep as I could
Filling up that sweet pink hole
And there I plunged again & again
Until my cheeks were sore
Slowly I raised myself
Hands upon her thighs
Spreading her lovelyness
As wide as she could split
She reached down & grabed my form
Holding hard she guided it in
Not even a chance to heav forwards
SHE CAME UP KER BAM
As she fell back I drove it home
My ***** smacked her in the ***
Stroking deep & slow at first
There was no holding her back
Bucking & bounching she managed
to turn around so I got her from hehind
She reached under & grabed my *****
Like a lease it was as she pulled me in
Faster & faster we went
Then she pushed me back
Grabed my shaft & began to ****
She said to me very sweetly
I want to drink U all
Jul 23, 2010
Jul 23, 2010 at 4:17 PM UTC
Bathed in the shade of
a rubbery rhododendron,
I sway imperceptibly,
Lulled by nature's rhythms,
A silent, sleepy visitor
splayed on a ropey nest,
Serenaded by an aerial orchestra,
Chirps and trills
and throaty warbles
spiral downward,
Atomized in the languid breeze
like a Roman candle,
A staccato riff,
Jack-hammered into a dying birch,
Urges me back from the edge,
Where dream and dreamer part,
A gauzy memory of a melody lost,
Performed for the oblivious,
and a dozing, grateful
audience of one.
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 6:14 PM UTC
**** Deck
I got rubbery legs and a pain in the neck
sick to my stomach down on the **** deck
I'm rockin and rollin but there isn't a beat
trying so hard to just stay on my feat
the waves or crashing high on the bow
my belly is groaning I sound like a cow
I bounce off the walls first left and then right
been doing the same thing all frigin night
***** bags are stuck to the walls
in the circles and in the halls
some folks are funny they're faces all green
beware of projectiles potatoes and bean
but I'll do it again I'll do it once more
if only I could open this GD door
put my head in the toilet give it a flush
boy that tastes bad where is my tooth brush
yes the seas were high but I was out flat
couldn't sign on couldn't even chat
what's that on the floor aw man what the heck
now I know why they call it the **** deck
Gomer LePoet...
Sep 4, 2011
Sep 4, 2011 at 9:16 AM UTC
dedicated banishment
self inflicted, echoing
physical displacement
from permanent coronary scarification
devouring accidentally my lacerated pulmonary edema
cauterizing weakness into cement
thermodynamically frozen muscles
umbrellas on parade in your city
netherworld for my regret
disreputable raincoats rubbery ebbing
against a tide of discontent
ringing out like let-downs
May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 8:21 PM UTC
My mother held me,
and asked what was wrong with my world.
Her rubbery hands in my hair.
"I feel like a plastic narrative," I said,
"and there's nothing I can do about it."
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 3:43 AM UTC
his infamouse words still echo
dangerously in my head
'quack quack'
his rubbery skin chaffing my mind
as he trundles through my waking dreams
his beady little painted eyes
dont fool me
behind thouse innocent baby blues
this rabble rouser plots
world **********
through mans dependance on bathrooms
a rubber duckie in every household
a rubber duckie to rule them all
the all seeing duckie
'quack quack'
i see him there in the bottom
of the tub next to my girlfriends hairbrush
grin painted on his
ugly little duckie face
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 8:18 AM UTC
Bowen ounce and Owen bounce
fell off a speeding train,
both were rather fortunate,
Owen bounce,who weighed an ou ce,
Was cushioned by soft shrubbery,
Bowen ounce just bounced and bounced,
for he was round and rubbery.
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 5:57 PM UTC
inside
this fever
I try
to collect thoughts
like pebbles
with my gigantic mittens
and they transform
become birds
or butterflies
and I sink
into rubbery dreams
where my limbs
are like threads
in a spider's web
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 4:16 PM UTC
𝄞:♫⋆｡♪₊˚♬ﾟ. °. ⋆༺ ☾ 𖤓 ༻ ⋆. ° 𝄞:♫⋆｡♪₊˚♬ﾟ.
Peacock feathers
perfection.
A baby panther yawning
yawning, sleek and
black, a swan leaning
back
stretching pristine snowy wings.
Petrichor, crisp musk, the feelings we bring
floating river feathers,
mother’s ozone after rain,
all
around
hitting soft
down.
The reddest of roses held to the sky.
The clearest of tears
we have yet to cry.
A silvery plate of oily green olives throwing back the sun,
of which they are , one.
( of which we all are)
so hard,
becoming one with nothing again in each passing breath.
Energy expended.
A thought, by moments.... in emotions
extended.
A child's coffin
The care of casket sheen — soft silken interiors now overflowing with the wet, inky blackness of squirming, over-lit salamanders. Writhing
Erupting.
Effluviant.
Rubbery little salamanders. Hitting the over polished marble floor
falling
yearning for freedom and little more.
Everywhere. So black and shiny .
Overflowing , spilling out they wander
and we
wonder
what is it all about.
all this cascading and spilling out. Bouncing, smacking.
Nature. The nature Of art and beauty.
Understanding, the great misunderstanding
right before our eyes. Right. before. Our eyes.
Rite before our eyes.
Eyes, another’s . What we truly long to see.
The clarity of symbols built over centuries
and lost in a single fire/trend.
Feb 6, 2025
Feb 6, 2025 at 12:23 PM UTC
How nice to be a balloon
floating on a young ones wrist
How I'd like to be a balloon.
They float for some time, and then happily deflate
leaving there rubbery reminisce
For the young one to toy with
And stretch to it's limit
Or they might keep the balloon close
like some long lost friend
Unless, you're the sad balloon
who's string is dropped
and floats way up high
away from the happiness
away from the child
well
away from the tears of the young ones loss
who wishes only for the balloon
who's already lost.
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 11:35 PM UTC
I feel it starting, like a prickle down my spine.
My rubbery lungs expand and push
against my ribs.
Organs start crawling
up my throat
leaving a hollow cavity
which I must seal.
My heart is pumping faster
but the only thing to get my blood moving
is to fill my emptiness.
Hands shaking I scrawl a haphazard
paper chain to keep me from floating away
as my love looks on concerned.
“Can I fill it with a kiss?
A caress? If I whisper to you
will my words fall through your ears and
weigh you down?”
But anxiety
is not like drowning
and a life preserver won’t reign me in.
The only thing to do is wait
for me to compress my lungs
and talk my insides off the ledge.
Let me close my eyes and breathe,
give me room to reassemble.
I promise I will come down soon.
When I can concentrate enough,
the Earth starts shrinking
until its mass rests on my pen tip
and I can write the blood back through my veins.
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 6:52 PM UTC
there’s something unsettling about convenience stores. the fluorescent lights resemble some planet far away from here. neon signs with a letter broken, now flashing “be r,” beckoning the broken, the damaged, the lost boys. the home of those who don’t fit in. they buy the greasy pizza, rubbery hot dogs, and chemically nacho cheese which imitate something edible but scream danger on the tongue. haunted by the souls of the the pimply teenagers working the register, lips stained blue from blue raspberry slushy, slaving through the evening for the nocturnal souls buying milk and bread in the wee hours of the night. hushed arguments on the phone about forgetting to buy toilet paper and why don’t you ever pay attention to me. the pungent smell of hair dye boxes, the stink of attempting to be someone you’re not. skeleton children with messy hair, ***** fingernails as well as thoughts, up to no good back for more cherry cough syrup and furniture polish. soon after 3 candy bars will be found missing from inventory. detergent bottle caps, once neon, now faded with gathering dust, residing next to a dented can of campbell’s chicken soup. an organized chaos. the land of misfit toys.
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 5:27 PM UTC
Shut your ******* mouth
And help me super-glue
this flap of skin back to my face
Lock the door.
(Microchips & Grind-gears coo
Behind that rubbery facade
An Android god
A Hissing machinery zoo in there
Clamping hydraulics; what a scare)
Hurry!
No one can see this -
It's not even ****** for Pete's sake
It doesn't get better
There was nothing wrong
To begin with.
I am perfect, remember?
Wink wink
But really,
How long until this glue dries?
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 3:31 PM UTC
Journal entry
May 7, xxxx
She knows I love her, my creature. Of course she does.
There are still secrets between us; there might always be. We haven't decided.
You see, some lovers- they reach a point- where they dance that silent dance, and wordlessly through looks and smiles, will decide that some secrets will always be secrets. Others say everything, and find strength in doing so. We're not there yet. And so, some things remain unspoken.
A secret I keep from her now is- I know what she is, yes, but I can't help but think of her as the opposite sometimes. A thing not with dove wings and a halo, like the paintings, but a creature with thick, rubbery wings. Heavy horns sitting on her head. There is something uniquely dark about her.
There is so much I still don't know. There is a heaven, is what she's told me. It isn't as beautiful as you think, she says. When I ask her if there is a God, she looks away. And I know there is something in my question that brings her pain. She has never answered the question.
She still walks to her lake. (Yes- it's hers now.) She visits it often.
She does it at night, when I'm asleep. But I wake easily in her presence. I've caught her walking towards the wood. I know it's the lake she goes to. It must be. I've never followed her.
She thinks she hides it well. But I can tell there is a rage. You visit your lake in secret, and what would you have to hide, if not the fact that over there you must be inflicting yourself with some violent ritual. Something I should not see. You must have some kind of terrible thing inside of you. Divine grief, or envy, something that must be gnawing at your heart. I can see it in your eyes.
Why won't she tell me? I worry sometimes that I'll never be allowed to help her. I suffer with these thoughts, and she doesn't say a thing.
There are silences like arrows, aimed at you, meant to **** you. Meant to maim the heart. But not hers.
Her silence is the kind that hurts to look at, because you know it isn't a choice. The more I **** the more her throat seems to tighten. It's as if she wants to tell you everything, but physically can't. As if telling you was an arrow. As if telling you her truths and her fears would
kill her
I want to know why she goes to the lake, I do. I want to know what happened before. What is God to you, what has he done? Tell me please, even if I am not enough, even if I am just the rabbit you tell your sorrows to. I may be from another world, I may be the animal unable to ever understand your pain, but my ears are long and my eyes are big and I will listen and watch you intently. I love you.
Sometimes I think I'm too small. How could a thing like you choose a thing like me? The thought used to **** me. I'm learning not to spiral. Even if you won't help me. I have to stay strong. I have to show patience.
Yes, if she wants to keep her secrets, then keep her secrets she must. I worry about her, but what can I do. I can only be patient. I can only do what I can. I can only love her until she decides to bloom before me.
My angel who howls by the moonlit lake.
I will wait for you.
May 27, 2021
May 27, 2021 at 10:17 PM UTC
Here is an exercise
to help you learn a little bit
more about where we are
and what acts on us:
Pour yourself a bath,
as luxurious as can be.
Put in the salts, the oils,
the fragrances, the bubbles…
Make sure you pour
it hot, as hot as you can
handle when you dip in that
first cautious toe…
Slide in up to your chin and
soak in quietude while
your muscles untie their knots
and you lose yourself to that dreary
form of half-awake relaxation.
After a time, your tranquil state
will become a quiet form
of discomfort. The body
will begin to simulate a rising fever
as your temperature moves upward
towards equilibrium with the water,
the stomach will start to feel
unsettled and you
will have had enough.
Now, here comes the test:
Remove the drain plug and
remain motionless, unresponsive,
as the water slurps down
around you.
Your body will fall
as the water drains,
folding and bending
gravity packing you down
molding you into cast of the
tub you are laying in.
When the water is fully
drained and your rubbery,
warm muscles are stripped
of their recent buoyant freedoms,
you will feel with full awareness
the immensity of that Universal force
that acts on us without rest.
It’s amazing that we aren’t
all in exceptional shape.
Oct 9, 2022
Oct 9, 2022 at 5:41 PM UTC
Once upon a thyme
In an herbed house
Their lived a witch
Whose ripe rampion
Was so overpowering
That the neighbors
Left bottles of febreeze
On her doorstep.
The witch didn’t care
- But
In the flat-ironed town
Of Lunch time lipo
Where you were defined
By your eating disorder
She looked like
An Omish escapee
*With hips that wriggled
And ******* that jiggled*
So her cell phone number
Wasn’t in anyone’s top five
-Except
For one confused neighbor
Who never made it to college
And got to experiment
Like a true Gemini.
Now imagine the witch’s surprise
When this neighbor confides
That she would love to eat
Her ripe rampion.
- Naturally
The witch agreed.
It was nice to have something
That somebody else wanted
Though it was exhausting
For the neighbor
Who munched day and night.
And if one surprise
Wasn’t enough
The witch discovered that her
Neighbor was pregnant.
Now the witch had many powers
But that wasn’t one of them.
It appeared that her neighbor
Found her husbands
Carrot patch to
Quite esculent also.
And the witch
Being a picky Virgo
With a jealous Scorpion moon
Thought that her neighbor
Should not
Have spun around the vegetable
Color wheel quite so fast
And so in a fit of temper
She stole her baby
And locked her away
In an ivory tower.
Initially everything worked out
Until the oil crisis
And then the witch couldn’t
Visit Rapunzel quite as often
As she would have liked
Not with gasoline
Being so expensive
And so Rapunzel became bored
And started chatting to
Prince charming
On her face-book wall.
The witch took all the hopeful Trojans
That the prince had left
On previous visits
And tied them together
To form a rubbery step ladder
And when she heard him shout
"Rapunzel, Rapunzel…let down your hair!"
She threw this at him…angling it
With just a little thread of hate.
Prince charming grew all shivery
And put on his worst
Austin powers "Oh behave" accent
*Thinking of the delights
That awaited him*
However, his shivery-ness
Soon became a full body tremor
When the witch met him
On the top rung
And he knew quick enough
This wasn’t a
Ménage à trois.
The prince spent many months
In traction
Recuperating from his fall.
Rapunzel was sent off
To boarding school.
And as for the witch…
She dropped twenty pounds
And got her own reality show
Housewives of Salem county.
Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 11:21 PM UTC