"sherbert" poems
A Passersby-“J”
A Passerby’s “J”
Good for lookin’ out
These harsh / hard times
Endangered kinds
Hanging tough love
Peace up
Peace pipe
A Passerby’s “J”
Thanks
For lookin’ out.
Puff puff give—
Namaste.
Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 6:04 PM UTC
A drop of Aussie poetry (guess from where):
The liquid amber is a nice drop.
I especially like the sherbert on top.
It caresses my taste buds with flavour
And I enjoy its savour.
An Australian man’s home is his Castlemaine XXXX
Full of Foster Children
Drinking nectar.
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 5:24 PM UTC
Sweet treats just for me
I need to get some money
Sweets, they are not free
Sweets treats just for me
To the shop, I run so fast
Don't stop to think, go
Sweets treat just for me
Eyes look through the glass
Curly wurly yum
Cola bottles yum
Sherbert dip is so delish
Too much sugar, sick.
Oct 28, 2020
Oct 28, 2020 at 1:42 PM UTC
it's not even noon, but
my thoughts are drenched with
*** bound and gagged.
you're dancing around the kitchen, clad
only in a pair of
lace ******* you paid
too much for at Victoria's
Secret liaisons by the
seaside, sand sieving through your hair:
all forms of metal-backed currency taste
like ***** on your fingertips stuffed
roughly in my mouth,
call me a ****
pretty please?
promethazine slathered over
watermelon sherbert and
soaked in Sprite; put a lid on it and
shake vigorously until well mixed.
Xanax exacerbated migraines mean
naptime for me, and I forgot to tell you
the Gatorade is spiked with *****
(or maybe tequila; I've well and truly
forgotten) and all of this
is just another means of
replacing you.
you're wrapped in an
ecru trench coat,
cinched at the waist over
concealed weaponry:
unlicensed pistol and wet coral *****
constrained by a black leather holster and
cobalt cotton.
you kissed me with
******* in your nostrils and
nosebleed on your lips;
you killed me with
contempt in your mouth and
venom on your nails.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 5:18 PM UTC
My Little Bird
Oh, how I always hated that nickname.
I'm no bird.
my song not sweet;
my eyes not kind;
my bones not weak;
nor my neck so quick to break.
I don't belong in your pocket
or cupped softly in your hands.
I will not sit nicely atop your finger
nor will I perch kindly on your shoulder.
Although,
if you truly wanted, Dear, I suppose I could be your bird
but nothing like the sherbert-colored lovebird you're thinking of.
No --
I'll be your magpie,
your raven,
your vulture,
or worse.
I'll peck those baby-blue peepers from their scarlet-red pits.
Jan 4, 2013
Jan 4, 2013 at 5:45 PM UTC
It's a golden hour,
Everything framed in a gentle light,
Rounding edges like a fine-grit sandpaper,
The sky such a beautiful shade of blue.
The sunset is an interesting one,
Sherbert orange clouds topped with a subtle purple plume,
Crowned with golden-yellow cirrus.
I stand in awe of this majestic sight,
Breath swept along this noble image before me,
Casting the air exhaled on the currents of this exalted visage.
May 31, 2023
May 31, 2023 at 8:58 PM UTC
Destroy me.
Take what you can from the middle.
Take that golden yellow moon-
that sherbert sunset in the center of how I exist,
**** it, take it!
And Stubbornly I'll be.
When all that is left is bones for the jackal to
satiate on
when all that is heard is bubbles popping
and the jaw creaking
from
the overuse of what was inside me-
When that dark and silken predator
lies lazy on it's back
with my contents fuming in its distention...
destroy me, do.
***** my remains
with huge heaving gusts of your gluttony.
Because you will.
Because I am too heavy to carry, I am too light to settle.
Oh, yes I'll be your posion,
and into every cell I will invade
marching with my army, marching with my anger
I will wiggle in your ear and chew through the pictures in your mind,
eating at the corners of everyone you covet most.
I'll call you in a singsong voice that does not end.
In every room you'll look to hear-
in every corner your try to hide from it.
I will flood your soul with my wrongdoings so you
carry mine as well as yours.
Yes, destroy me-
dust.
And you will perish from my digestion
and you will carry my heavy sins.
Oh, what is left? What is left?
Just the eternal weight of light
and you cannot eat that,
On light you can feast
but not thrive.
It will not still the noise
of the rotting wood
that sits solid and solitary
in the place
where someone stole
your exclusive rights
to feel
joy.
Sahn 3/26/2015
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 9:15 PM UTC
When day changed to sherbert
the taste of mango slipped across my tongue
and I caught stray licks
like wet snowflakes in the summer breeze.
For a moment
no hand could touch me with that
same love;
none have since.
My hobby of sunsets and sun
rise for 15 minutes of fame--
for staring in wonder, then
fading away.
skelly*14
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 10:01 PM UTC
That classic cliche of a clock ticking too far
And a love that burns in the back of the mind
Scratching heat into the seams of social self control
But I'm strong enough to smile for the cameras
The tasty dabs of smiling sherbert keep me posted on the here and now
The all work and all play lifestyle brings smile from far and wide
I don't deserve forgiveness for the bitter taste in my mouth
I was the one that melted my key into the furnace
And I'm the one who can see the bridge behind him
Spit on me if you must, my love, my friends, my observant big brother
Pity is not for the imbalanced and favoured
I am strong, I am proud, and I am rolling sixes
Just allow me an occasion to mourn my mistakes
My hand feeling cold and singular again
My eyes dragging across the floor in retrospect
My lust seeping from under my fingernails with gangrenous inferiority
I want what I can't have, shouldn't have, not again
But that empowering sense of growth makes the counter productive
So appealing
Sometimes I can't take it
I would show you the nostalgic touches of the boy you've lost
And the inspiring intensity of the man I have become
Through every nerve and every word you would know why I love you
But..
Life is not that convenient
The imbalance is the nature of this evolving colossus encapsulating our species
I will learn to accept my loss
I will learn to love another
I will continue to develop my scripted status and materialistic hollows
Just know that I hate myself and you
For how much I miss you
Mar 22, 2010
Mar 22, 2010 at 4:14 PM UTC
it is early morning at the beach
1:12 am to be exact
everyone else has gone beddy bye
and I can't sleep yet
because this is my time
where I live and breathe and think
without others doing the same and talking about it
all I can see through the sliding glass balcony door
is a liberty gas station across the street playing elevator
music at the pumps and selling insurance
that saves you 415 dollars a year
it's too cloudy to look for UFO's and the sherbert has all been eaten
so I decided to write something
I've reminded everyone what a nut case I am
hearing spirits and ripping politicians a new one
were pretty much my topics of conversation
I will say this...my sister's tacos were amazing
they over shop every year but **** they can cook
it's almost 1:30 and they will be rattling the breakfast dishes by 8
so I better get my crotchety old *** in bed
******** better get here early in the morning to fix
the **** washing machine
I only brought 3 pair of underwear
now
let me get started on this life changing poem
it is early morning at the beach...
Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 1:37 AM UTC
Crimson winds in Early September
blew my own smoke back into my face
so I got a double dose of ashes, burning my surfaces
I stopped digging into my skin with metal
but filled my lungs with tar
and I can't tell what's worse
Forgetting to take in sherbert skies because
I'm too high
or being there but not caring in the first place
Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 7:39 PM UTC
rubicon hangover
sherbert lemon sunrise
butterscotch *******
with an afterbirth smile
pastiche or phantom
beautiful proportion
cutting mothers apron
the circle of time
location location
circumnavigation
stylised continuum
great britain is a lie
mass for the masses
blood on the carpet
thank you for not smoking
its a marvel we're alive
thirty thousand drowning
thirty fathoms counting
suffer little children
not in my back garden
slumber in a haven
sleeping with forbidden
waterfalls and gravestones
selfish over soil
war americana
revolutionara
helicopter complex
compliment our ego
nuclear disaster
what use is a master
fall out over fallout
tinnitus and drones
avalanche of feedback
pentatonic ***** slap
abstinent castrati
carry me away
shiver orchestration
gentle fornication
sexually vacant
naturally vague
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 1:51 PM UTC
A girls world in a man's imagination,
Just hang in there.
I once saw a fairy Kiss the ground and a Flower arose
Even from the murkiest of depths there will always be a twinkle
Especially with How you look at the world with those big brown stellar eyes
The sunsets smile surprised me
“I still can’t pull your heart out of the ashes anyway” she said
I Have too many thoughts in my Mouth
“The greeks did not believe the gods created the universe,
It was the other way around:
The universe created the gods.”
Sherbert filled skies
With gleaming helicopter eyes
Cashmere fields to rest your head
Even the heavens cry sometimes
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 1:23 AM UTC
Sherbert skies, and church bells at 6 am.
Your blushing, bruised collar is my alibi,
cause it's where I've been.
Hips move, lick and moan
You are everything I've ever known
Thunder rolls 'cross fields of grain
Into burning bones, you've etched your name
Your hips feel like home
Though I can't help but roam,
You've so much to explore,
leaves me gasping for more
Sitting together as we watched the storm roll by...
I didn't want to say goodbye.
Aug 4, 2016
Aug 4, 2016 at 4:12 AM UTC
On my way back from checking-out the smokers' hang-out I passed behind the oyster bar near the grunting port, dodged a traffic warden sporting an illuminated hard-on and carrying an old bag of Napier's bones
Clearly an urban fox thought I until he did the wheelie-bin by the church with a one-two, shuffle, feint, one-two and a worthy one-two too, Who-what? You what? Done what? By whom and with what? Beside, by, from or to.
Prejudices rearranged? he asked producing a large wasp and a small tuba from his inside hat pocket and blowing ancient Aramaic **** against a bus shelter until 'it' threatened to rain. Fifty quid, fixed penalty, a producer? **** off. OK and he did.
Is it recycling day? Is this the day? Double yellow mate, work it out for yourself. Clamp or tow, clamp or tow. These are the choices of the voices in the head of a fox in the know. Turn out the illuminations, turn up the incantations, no more ruminations - root out the creeping infestation with a Round-Up-Ready (TM) altercation.
Two minutes to Tango, two for a fiver, this tall to ride, slip inside and pitch a Force Ten and wait for the chicken coop and the soft fox lips to meet again in a kaleidoscope shower of cheerleader's tail feathers and scarlet sherbert dips.
Phone home on Napier's dog and bone, watch out for the crock oyster and if you feel like one slipped down despite precautions, get back to the bar and order double portions.
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 3:59 AM UTC
Romance for me is about moments of connection
to feel something larger than myself
To witness the cosmos in and from the eyes of another
To be vulnerable, raw, wild, honest, open, books of discovery
Moments that make me feel deep and lush
Hypnotic. A whispered word. A brush of skin. Shared desires.
Late nights. Moon light. Inside jokes. Thoughtful words.
Laughter. Fireworks. Fireflies. Campfires. Rainy days in.
Pillow fights. Pranks. Trust. Live music. Cold beer.
Carnivals. Confidence. Honesty. Legos. Little round ice cubes.
Sledding. Gingersnaps. Aggressive Sports. Motorcycles.
Clean lines. The horizon. Walks. Avocados. Wine. Bare feet.
Morbidity. Sarcasm. Wit. Presence. Midnight. Open arms.
Yellow Curry. Coloring. Puzzles. Abandoned Places.
White chocolate. Fruit jellies from Germany. Motown. Violins.
Art Nouveau. Intimacy. Decorum. Curiosity. Metallurgy.
Alchemy. A well told story. Absurdity. Whimsy. Shade. Shadows.
Things that are slightly off. Heavy blankets. Bubbles. Silhouettes.
Glitter. Smirks. Poise. Grace. The melody in a laugh.
The blush of cheeks. The thought in a touch. Poise. Grace.
Night time insect and frog lullabies. Autumn Forests.
The way a hummingbirds and dragonflies fly. Outtakes. Freckles.
Tickles. Rain. Fog. Strangers. Dancing. Finger foods.
Warm apple cider. Open windows. Wood wind chimes.
Squishing my toes in dirt. The moment a smile begins.
Mood lighting. Candles. String lights. Sherbert. Snuggles.
Warming my **** by a fire and sitting down fast. Treasure.
Lightning. Beethoven. ******* Challenges. Delayed Gratification.
Desired anticipation. Seduction. The wind. Cedar chests. Calliopes.
Austria. Vistas. Fingertips. Dangling my feet. Whispers. Spirals.
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 11:32 AM UTC
My red scars have been replaced
and now pink bug bites remain
I fill the dark with sunsets
from the top of the park where we laid.
But I did not think of you today.
My summer heart beats steady,
July winds lifts me up,
the grass underneath might leave little cuts.
But they leave room for me to breathe.
I watch the sunset every day,
I take in every color,
I stopped waiting on a call
from a past- life lover.
I do not miss you at all.
I lay in the light,
reds, oranges, sherbert pink skies,
my skin takes in all the earth gives,
The sky wraps itself in mid July,
ribbons for clouds decorate the sky,
I do not ache for you this time.
Instead I crave the palette,
the warm hues of summer scattered,
those colors fill me up
they remind me who I was
three years ago in June
before I lost it all to you.
My scars were replaced
by ugly, pink bug bites,
my heart was replaced
by warm, itchy nights.
But I wouldn't change a thing.
My soul is hung up on a string.
Out on display for the world to see,
finally.
And every night, while it dries,
I have a chance to bring to light
everything your winter nights
tried to hide.
Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 9:05 PM UTC
Never had a problem with a sister or brother of color from another mother.
I am all for fun and games. You see?
I love the idea of seeing, COLORFUL Yoshis enjoying rainbow sherbert ice cream on a hot unforgiving summer day.
I have more shades of color, than the pride flag representing LBGQT community all the way.
If the color of my skin, serves to be a threat or issue. My darkness, is a problem for you? When we are not far, from each other on the shade spectrum?
_I believe you are in the wrong on your perspective of darkness. You worried about the WRONG darkness. When we bleed the same red!? Shame on you. I never wished for your downfall. I been down with falls filling me, my soul suffering accompanied with dread. I'd be a different person worse than hell, if I ever ignored my family's teachings and all the rightful words, of what any mindful mentor ever said._
**** you racism. You and your whole clique can drop dead.
Nov 15, 2022
Nov 15, 2022 at 2:21 AM UTC
I'm climbing out of
The gelatinous malaise
Of depression
As it relinquishes
It's life draining fingers
Off of my
Barely breathing
Raw throat
I feel the light of
Potential fill me
And I hope
Yet again
For a better day
A better life
One day
Maybe today
As I enjoy the freedom
A reprieve gives me
I'm okay
I can breathe
I can aim small
Baby steps
Without the anxiety
Of needing it
And the next 3 big steps
To be already done
It's okay if I'm flawed
And if I messed up
It's even okay if
I can't fix it
Maybe one day I can
But it won't be today
Today is for delight
In the small things
Like the lovely smell
Of bergamot
In earl gray tea
Or the softness
Of a pets' warm fur
Pressing against you
Today is for beauty
Seen in happy smiles
Of happy people
Who aren't letting
The harsh world
Get to them
It for the magic
That is music
Dancing sound
Today is for the esquisite flavor
Of lime sherbert ice cream
Sweet creamy cold
Refreshing in the heat of summer
Today is for many things
But not for all the negativity
Today is for a break
A gentle pause of life
For I have been sick
Time to recover
To heal old wounds
To learn how to live again
For I have forgotten
It's been so long
Today will be great
Because I will make it so
Aug 20, 2017
Aug 20, 2017 at 9:19 PM UTC
An orange glimmer illuminates the dusk sky
Making its descent as I look up
Hoping that true love is looking at the same sky -
admiring the same beauty, feeling the same rush, fancying the same glimmer
But this glimmer, this sherbert sky, this elusive aesthetic will fall below the horizon
Below where the sun meets the calm sea - into darkness
As you savor those last few seconds of its descent, those last few sparkles
I fall as the big sherbert ball goes below the water, to a place I cannot see
A place where all my hopes disappear to
And darkness arises
I feel a spirit pull me into a realm of darkness
I cannot escape
I cannot enjoy the beauty in the black sky
after I have watched my hopes fall below my sight
A place where I cannot retrieve them, unless I’m lucky to dream about them that night
But when those dreams come true, and you have someone to stand by you at night,
That night sky you tried to escape from
suddenly becomes an alluring dark blue sky with incandescent speckles
That you can gaze at until dawn
On a grassy plain with dandelions and wishflowers as the breeze blows your lips together
Under the beauty of the light
Jun 19, 2017
Jun 19, 2017 at 9:50 PM UTC
Its 6 am
The cicadas fill the air
With their repetative songs
Of lust
Just out of time
With the ticking clock on the wall
Its just enough
to keep and insomniac awake
But so is silence.
Its 6 am
and i wish i could lace
My pink running shoes
And chase the bats from my head
With the sherbert coloured sunrise
Yet they are burried
In my back seat
Under all the things
I somehow aquired.
And dont want anymore
Its 6 am
And i like the silence
Of my own breathing
Filling the strange room
And i dont know
Despite being half mad
And displaced
I find a smile on my lips
A kind of bliss in the solitude.
And now:
I have so much time to read.
Jul 27, 2016
Jul 27, 2016 at 6:04 AM UTC
Never found any luck in a lucky bag
I only ever found plastic krap
and sherbert.
I wonder if this is all a waste and we're just treading water
to keep our heads above it.
still stumbling along the avenue
the way that old people do
why do I do it?
what's in it for me?
where am I heading?
treading water
minding the gap,
I wish that announcer would
shut her trap and let me think.
This is more under the underground
this is the cavern below
and is this the place?
do I seem out of sync?
I wish that announcer would
get off my case
and give me some space
to think.
I can look at the dream quite clearly
if my glasses are on when I sleep.
Chancery lane again
and
Paris only twenty nine pounds
each way
start the day by feeling inadequate
and it can only get better
they say.
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 1:31 AM UTC
Sherbert in edible cases looking like spaceships
some can even glow in the dark.
ripe red and rosy fairy apple pips
and a candy bar looking like a great white shark.
Jet black licorice in the form of old men's pipes
All the colours of the rainbow in sugar rice
Mints with spots and evenly spaced stripes
some quite strong and don't taste that nice.
Little ***** of tastiness that look like blackberries
a jar full of fizzy fish
a bowl full with lips smelling of cherries
and little jelly cola bottles in a dish
Squares of pink and white coconut ice
chocolate and *** and raisin fudge bars
and there are little white sugar mice
and cinnamon and ginger stars.
All the good things from years ago.
Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 6:22 AM UTC