"skyrocket" poems
As we kiss,
Our hips like waves of flesh crash together.
Into one another they collide like two craters pulled in by gravity.
Our bodies connect like two streets at an intersection,
Lines "X" and "Y".
Your body as if a black hole ***** me in.
I ****** moving deeper with every movement.
You moan,
Such an ear tingling sound.
It slips through clenched teeth, only after climbing up your throat.
A song like no other,
Made only when your body is pushed to its point of bliss.
As we kiss,
Your heart races as if running for Olympic gold.
Your mind becomes clouded by a satisfying fog.
The sensitivity of our bodies skyrocket.
Our body's are overheated by our sensual passion.
Our hands intertwining fully making us one entity.
As we kiss,
Ecstasy in it's most unsullied state is reached.
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 11:00 AM UTC
I saw her
I saw her smile
Focus out through the sparkle
Reflecting from her danglers
And the ones in the atmosphere.
Turquoise sequinned with beige
Crackers, all around her
Our first new year
Where she took me by
My hand, entangling fingers
Lacing, when she thought she'd
Lost me,skipping between
White walls and brown floors
Finding a way out
Through the maze.
Low hung ceiling lamps.
Dragging me back through my memory doors
Remains the same
White walls and brown floors
While I wait outside.
Inside you're having your chemo.
Crackers
Inside my heart
Slithering through my mouth
I see her in between
Those flinging and swinging
Prayer flags, I recollect
Hanging them in the backyard
Of our home, you
Bargained them out
A flea market, before
That year's Diwali
You had inside of you
A life that would bless us
In three months.
A tangerine Georgette Saree
And rhyming with it,
Rani colored bangles
Sneaking up on the roof.
Crackers
White walls, wooden floors
You lie quiet, unmoved.
A skyrocket ups in a distance
As I light you up in flames.
Crackers
You'd always come back
Focusing, defocusing
My memories' pitaara
Sparkling, dangling
Skipping and lacing
Through all those crackers
Lighting me up
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 4:21 AM UTC
*Our love is like the stock market
I never know when we’ll go up or down
I can’t tell if we're about to skyrocket or hit rock bottom.
Should we just give up and take our bows,
Do we have the patience to say our vows?
But we're living in the now, and we're too busy to figure out the hows.
We invested so much time
we both have almost lost our minds,
One of us is either falling behind.
We can never get on the same page,
Who are you fronting for,
Our loves not displayed on a stage.
Where do you keep spending all your time?
Forgetting me should be a crime.
I’m starting to wonder what you’re always thinking about
I guess you leave me no choice, so baby I'll tap out*--
May 22, 2016
May 22, 2016 at 11:06 PM UTC
Those shortcakes tallest skyrocket
His pocket, a poem mountain
top setting words whip cream
Him and her fountain sunset love
Above all "Strawberry pie" dream
The oven overloved to trust
Or underbaked the pie crust
One bite the skywriting
Told her I love you
My strawberry eye patch
Powdery her lips "Smuckers" rich
Her strawberry sky velvet sigh
Strawberry field forever lake
Her cheeks like a piece of cake
The Prom with Tom what a Sawyer
The true love strawberry buyer
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 6:55 AM UTC
Crush
Crushed your soul
Your old wise soul
Made you hopeful
Cheerful
Hopeful
Made you dream
And wonder
And fanticise all you could be
All you could share
Forget imperfections
Forget ******* past mistakes
All we'd have was a future to look forward to
A future that could've been so **** good
If only you'd tried
I gave you all I new how to give
Made myself vulnerable
Feel smaller than I already do
And you, you giant
Made my insecurities skyrocket
Intimidation beyond comprehension
All for the boy I never really thought I had a chance with
The boy who was too good for me
The (imperfect) perfect boy
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 1:10 PM UTC
I'm not quite sure how addiction grabbed me
I picked it up slow but it grew so vastly
Started with *****
which turned to puffs, powder and pills
both downs and ups
I'd have one in my hand
two more in my pocket
effects don't matter
just want to skyrocket
Please, take me away
to the places of unknown
help me escape
sober feelings, I've outgrown
No happy soul
been broken to pieces
the puzzle repairs
each time the **** hits
Hiding away
from both friends and family
deny every time
so please stop asking
A boy, once joyous
now fell from grace
peace of mind only comes
from numbing his face
No pride, sheer shame
pure feelings of failure
thoughts run wild'
Will it all end here?'
Partners in crime
now long deceased a harsh realization
of succumbing to the beast
Praying for help and
pleading for power
rise and prevail
stop trying to cower
There's a want and a need
plus strong will to succeed
to turn life around
since devoured by disease
Now I stand here humbled
with apologetic eyes
for my selfish acts
under a life self prescribed.
Aug 16, 2013
Aug 16, 2013 at 2:37 AM UTC
Little pockets of sound that skyrocket around
Words: verbs, adjectives, nouns
Words can get me steaming or lucid dreaming
And it leaves me silently screaming to see people consider words a weapon
Like they mean to cause harm
Well let me remind you I have the right to bear arms
Just because what’s on that page is mine
Doesn’t means it aligns with the ideals in my mind
Writing is expression, not confession
So when I write about a character who is confused and depressed
Buys a used gun and a bulletproof vest
And shoots up his classmates in the middle of a test
Because everyone ignored the signs of his anger
Doesn’t mean there’s a trench coat on my hanger
But nevertheless, they labeled me me a threat
Better yet, they focused on me instead of the 15 year old addicted to cigarettes
and took my words out of context
Because they are con-text
Well I’m pro-text and I protest that they suggest that I’m hopeless
and I know this coldness only hones my focus on my magnum opus
But where would we be without controversy?
The indirect side effect to freedom of speech
A beacon for speakin’ your mind without your rights being breached
It’s all in the name
When you write, you’re right
But when you advocate censorship, then you’re ****
My two cents are worth a million bucks
So who cares if they contain a million *****
F-words might be wayward but in a way they aren’t F-words, they’re A-words
Because all words are equal on surface
Well, until one strikes a nerve with a conservative
Who, without even meeting me, determined me to be
The next **** Germany
I didn’t write a story about a school shooter
I wrote it about how one impressionable kid became a slave to the page
And lost himself in the rage as an unfortunate consequence
And it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense
That the school would let themselves fall victim to a nonexistent threat
Brought on by a few paragraphs on a pair of half ripped papers stapled and
Paper-clipped to the rest of my script
You can place the blame but you became that same shameful shell
Hell, you can expel me, but you can’t compel me
To stop yelling again with this paper and pen
Or a stage and a mic
Going without words is like an endless hunger strike
Being voiceless ain’t a choice for this
When I protest, I prefer to be heard
A whole lot can happen with a few simple words
Jul 22, 2012
Jul 22, 2012 at 8:39 PM UTC
my head is
a vacant lot
loaded with automatic cars
idling in a polluted environment
full of bidding corporations
run by empty businessman
who take advantage
of a selfish inward populace
that raise violent children
who turn off their minds to the madness, cruelty
and cultural void at the local nightclub
called "Numb" or " E-tarded"
and slobbering over drinks and beats
like the sounds of horns
from a traffic jam
driven by impatient animals
in a sheepfold bawing
their way to the nearest vaccination center
for thier imaginary twinrix dose of
swine ***** and orange juice
that skyrocket diabetes rates above google hits
and fat conservative voter polls
broadcasted daily by popular media botox injections
that styme creativity
with the same ****** music
played over and over and over
like the broken recorded rhetoric
that tell us to destructively reach out
to foreign countries
while selling ourselves out for better cars
but increase profits and taxes
at the same rate of the rising prison population
and shrinking contributions
to health care , edU-caTion , community and environment
all the while you can hear the sheep bleat and beep and bleat and beep
Feb 27, 2010
Feb 27, 2010 at 7:06 PM UTC
It’s a free country, whose prices are skyrocketing,
skyrocketing with the number of secrets.
Pick up pamphlets proclaiming promises,
but look how the fine print demands your liberty.
Everything is written in the same language,
the exchange rate for a few dollars.
Pieces of paper riddled with numbers, dollars
burn through pockets, leaving scars with pain skyrocketing.
The poor and huddled masses all speak the language,
exchanging on the black market fragments of skeleton secrets.
Torch in one hand, book in the other, let’s ask Lady Liberty
why the cobblestone was pressed with broken promises.
Collect the torn shreds of scattered paper promises,
recycle, dye, reprint, now you have dollars.
Hear the cracks ring through the bell of liberty,
sending a sound shockwave skyrocketing,
blowing the dust off old, forgotten boxes stuffed with secrets,
lies that became incorporated. We all cry in the same language.
A father speaks to his daughter in the language
of soccer games and zoo trips. Shattered promises,
fill the gaps between their hearts, fueled by secrets.
Problems he tries to fix by handing her a few dollars.
His excuses keep coming and her frustration is skyrocketing.
She desires greener pastures, to run away with liberty.
In Korean it’s jayu. In Russian it’s svoboda. Liberty
translates to the same message in every language.
Liberté, the distance between oceans is skyrocketing
as worn hands struggle holding glass promises.
La libertad! Paper sons are born spending hard earned dollars,
confusing pesos with dollars, their lies with their secrets.
The walls are willing to whisper your secrets,
silence can be exchanged for handfuls of liberty.
A binding contract, you’ll get paid with dollars.
The ultimate truth: it’s the universal language.
Homes are built on a foundation of hollow promises,
with no door to escape, and the scaffolding is skyrocketing.
Freiheit! Voices skyrocket into one language,
tearing holes in liberty where promises lied,
it all costs something. Dollars buy secrets. Dollars hide secrets.
Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 9:43 PM UTC
I take from the rich
And I give
To the richer
Grow
Money trees
And then watch the world wither
I've slithered
In gardens of green
Dripping red
With a purity hood
Draping over my head
I have poisoned the fountain
Of youth
To retain
My control of this endless
Monopoly game
As my capital gains
A skyscraper a day
To the skyrocket
Stock market
Locke's do I pray
Upon all to be blessed
With lavish excess
But succession of kings
My investment ******
To breed wealthier nations
Uncommon in man
Through unhealthier rations'
Invisible Hand
Do I muppet the mouths
And harp on the heartstrings
As I tug on the chains
Of the slaves
Freedom rings
And that fat lady sings
All she wants
I will cling
To this power
With eagle-lied,
Vulturous talons
Devour
The will
And then **** the bills,
Billing blood that I spill
With impunity
Robbery,
Poverty
Property
I am the law
There is no order stopping me
No cherry topping me
No global powers’
High towers
Are topping me
No master forces endorsed
Are out-shopping me
Spending spree
On the lost souls
Now to bending knee
Fall
And enthrall in the terror
Of my urban sprawl
Making maggots of masses'
Automaton dreams
Into my gilded ages'
New pyramid schemes
You can call me a liar
Truth is
No concern
To the one who reigns fire
With oil to burn
Down upon the deniers
Until they all learn
I'll recruit body bags
To preach life to the choir
And when the screen lags
Train these dogs to play dead,
Lay their own on a wire
In so doing shred
The carnage they desire
So I can play God
And with demons conspire
A masterful plan
To command the economy
Zombie hive mind
Get in line
For lobotomy
My progeny
Multiply to consume
And consume
And consume
'Til the ******* last fume
Dissipates into space
The good fortunes of Earth
All amounting to waste
With the mother who nurtured you
***** and disgraced
The four steeds
Of Apocalypse
Nothing but paste
For I win every time
I with you
Humans race
Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 9:01 AM UTC
Your hands stole the starlight
To paint my body
In vivid hues of heaven
Unrestrained rapture
Soars like a firework
Exploding out into darkness
Bombarding colours
Fragmenting sensation
Cool night air
Delicately wanders
Fanning my flaming skin
Stroking my fascination
The heady scent of desire
Infusing earthly compulsion
Thrusting towards celestial pleasures
In an effort to enter nirvana
Soft folds seek firm flesh
Ripening under your touch
Ready to burst with sweet ambrosia
Flowing through your fingers
Demanding in quest
Your skyrocket
Burns through my atmosphere
Leaving trails of stardust that
Quiver along my body
As you cradle me in hushed epilogue
And I descend .....
Back to a garden
Bathed in moonlight
(C) Pixievic
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 12:01 PM UTC
they tell her to let her imagination fly
but they don't know how much her hands shake
when she thinks of his smile.
the sun always sets
but the sound of his laughter
ringing inside her mind won't.
she wants to make a home in the stars
that twinkle in the galaxy of his irises,
but she knows better than to find comfort
in someone else's body,
especially a body that she has never
had the chance to hold.
they tell her to let her imagination fly
so she keeps thinking that she will someday
make a bed inside his collarbones
and that she will spend her mornings
watching him trace the outlines of her hips
with his fingertips like she used to do
with the strings of the violin
she used to play as a child,
but no one ever told her
that you can't make homes out of human beings.
she tries to imagine a world
where the distance between them is shortened,
where she doesn't have to look at the moon
and pretend that he is looking at the same one
even though he's probably asleep
and dreaming about someone else's eyes.
they tell her to let her imagination fly
and she wants to let it skyrocket
past the ozone and land next to where he is,
on the other side of the solar system.
they tell her to let her imagination fly
and she does, but not because she wants to.
she has to make up all the words herself,
the way he smells and the way he tastes
and the way he sounds in the air.
she knows that everyone needs a place
and that it shouldn't be inside of someone else,
but imagining a world with him
is better than imagining a world where there is no love
and where everything goes wrong.
which is to say, imagining a world with him
is better than imagining a world without him.
Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 5:25 PM UTC
It’s December and
I tried to explain to my body
That I need to stay at a constant 98.6 degrees
And that it’s not normal
For those 98.6 degrees to skyrocket
Whenever your bare skin meets mine.
Apparently,
I’d taken a liking
To being consumed by fire
In the middle of a blizzard,
In December.
I’ll never quite manage to grasp
How you make my thighs shake
And my eyes go wide
Each time you’re merely in the same room as I.
Or when you smile.
When you smile,
it looks like all the biblical miracles
Placed into one crooked curve
And you gave me memories
Risque, raw memories that will keep my cheeks blushing and my head spinning
For ever so long.
Although,
I had hoped that by this time in winter,
Something more would’ve sparked.
But you only seem to know of
Pale spring mornings
And sticky summer nights.
I feel like I don’t even know you.
I touched you, I held your hand, I kissed your lips.
You poked and prodded the deepest parts of my tar black soul
That were so beyond your comprehension.
Yet, you don’t seem real, this doesn’t seem real, we don’t seem real.
Am I even real?
It’s December and you’re more of the boy I made out to be in my head
Based on those few blissful moments
Than the boy
Who would warm me up,
To much more than
A constant 98.6 degrees.
-andrea
Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 4:37 PM UTC
One of these days
There's going to be a snapback
That says
"Be different"
It will become the most popular snapback ever
In the history of date ****
Snapback sales will skyrocket
And every single boy
In Marysville, Washington
Worth his spit
Will be wearing a snapback that says
"Be different"
And no one will think twice
But the one boy
Who doesn't wear snapbacks
Or Nike
Or Adidas
Or Obey
But who dresses
Different
Than anyone else
Will get beaten
And teased and shunned
By boys wearing snapbacks that say
"Be different"
Clutching lies in their ****** fists
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 12:44 AM UTC
I guess I'm not quite sure
how addiction grabbed me
I picked it up slow
but it grew so vastly
It started with *****
which turned to puffs
and then powders and pills
both downs and ups
I'd have one in my hand
and two more in my pocket
effects don't matter
I just want to skyrocket
Saying, "Please, take me away
to the places of unknown
Lord, help me escape
these sober feelings I've outgrown"
Cause there's no happy soul
it's been broken to pieces
but the puzzle repairs
each time the **** hits
Now I'm hiding away
from both friends and family
I'll deny it every time
so please stop asking
A boy, once joyous
now fell from grace
peace of mind only comes
from numbing his face
No pride, sheer shame
pure feelings of failure
the thoughts run wild
'Oh, will it all end here?'
Partners in crime
are now long deceased
it's a harsh realization
of succumbing to the beast
See, we're pleading for help and
praying for power
got to rise and prevail
stop trying to cower
Cause there's a want and need
plus strong will to succeed
to turn life around
since devoured by disease
Now I stand here humbled
with apologetic eyes
for my selfish acts
under life self prescribed.
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 4:04 PM UTC
a cold ribbon of thought
its blackheart birth on the lips
of a madman whos eyes follow the truth
with skyrocket perfection
tell me about this dark thought you keep dreamin
together we can set this sinking ship aright
together we can unsink the dreams we had as children
the cold ribbon looks like a medal pinned
looks like a politicians smile
looks like a madman's eyeball
see the crazy light it gives off
feel the winter's breath in its gaze
entertain me with its song
here it comes again
looks so friendly
but look at the trail of empty lives it leaves
no matter what happens don't let me end like them
promise you take care of it
don't let em leave me an empty shell
gasping for air at some roadside death carnival
tapping my foot to some horrible song
put a bullet to my head so i don't end up like them
here it comes again look out
like some worm of the wasteland
like a smile lie in the darkness
looks like a lover but its a feeder
a cold ribbon of thought
calculating its next move with carefree abandon
look there see that girl
watch as the light in her eyes dies
watch as they **** the life out of her
the dreams cherished make a tasty meal
the hope so carefully crafted just in one bite
come on we can beat this thing
tell me this dark dream so we can unsink this ship
we can get away
slip away in the heartbeat of night
with the grace of the sullen eye
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 12:09 PM UTC
You can hear the voices of our peers
Being silenced, ignored, shunned and distorted.
Staggering out of their bedroom doorways
To the street corner to score a dime bag.
Bright, insightful kandi kids freezing
In search of warmth from something to believe in
Hopin’ those will encourage them
To look forward to see another day.
Where our economy has made financial prudence clear
The price tag of university tuition’s skyrocket
The refused, the ones with hope
But no money or scholarships;
Tread the streets
With the echoes of electro-house
Pulsing in their skulls.
Those who strip themselves down
And shred their own morals
To scraps just to find themselves
And to see their own limitations.
Searching for answers to the unknown,
To ascertain what they are,
Who they are and why.
The bewilderment of adulthood,
The abundance of pressure and responsibility.
Awakened from nightmares of lost opportunities,
Missed trains and lost contacts.
Everything went astray
But hope crash in
They wear the armour
Facing the giants of their lives
They conquered
Became champions of this new generation!
(3/13/14 @xirlleelang)
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 12:39 AM UTC
calmly stationed on
a pale blue sheet
I had laid out on the lawn
he paws
& tears at the grass
with his chubby fingers, though
they're thinning out into
crafty toddler hands
& he won't leave the blanket
at fourteen months, I'm beginning to
consider that he may already be
playing make-believe
our bedspread is our boat
& the wild unkempt grass is
the raging sea
I don't mind it
my allergies are going to
skyrocket when they finally mow it
I'd rather bask in its
lush glory
freshly grown in from
a very mild winter
thick with scent and color
Davy is growing accustomed to
it as well
heels digging into the soft soil
throwing tiny flowers every which way
& laughing
that boy's gonna need a bath
Mar 28, 2012
Mar 28, 2012 at 7:23 PM UTC
I think I've found your secret
The key to my locked up pleasure
The way to make my body writhe
To make that pulsing, riveting, shock; skyrocket from inside
Embodiment of ecstasy
Tip my head back, and close my eyes
Allow every sound that finds its way to my mouth
To slip out like a rolling tide
To ease my hands down in a way
That both tortures and teases me
But the one thing that is truly inspiring
Is simply the way he watches me
Jun 21, 2013
Jun 21, 2013 at 11:19 AM UTC
I'm fermenting in
isolation.
Covid 19 for the third
time this year.
After a skyrocket of a
writing streak,
I've had a two month
dry spell.
I'm sure the dope and
***** didn't help.
Hell smells like
loneliness and
white paper.
It tastes like
sulfur and burnt toast.
I see ghosts around
every corner, and they
sound like bats,
screeching at the
black night.
I'm in treatment,
and I will spend five
days in my room.
They will bring my
meds and meals.
They also gave me
a tablet and said,
I can watch all the
Net Flix that I want.
****
To write or to watch
the idiot box.
That is the dilemma.
I sure hope that
this
febrile state that I am
in produces some
good writing material.
Pun intended
Jul 18, 2022
Jul 18, 2022 at 3:02 PM UTC
Please fix this
Hurt me, hit me, **** me
I don't care if I die or live
Stick a knife in my side and see if I give
Kiss the tears from my eyes and watch my heart skyrocket
Take it down from the stars, put it next to your lungs & lock it
I bet you've never seen someone like me
Who'd literally die to have their heart
Under your lock and key
Too bad my love was brutally hated
My life askew and over-rated
Did you honestly hate it?
**** responsibility to change it.
But there's only so long I can make it
Before
I
Break
To
****
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 11:05 PM UTC
The cost of living is the price we pay
for all those things we need each day
and when calculated over a period of time
works out to a figure that’s likely to climb.
And if our wants go far beyond our needs
we have to get paid well then for our deeds.
But if what we earn can’t match that pace
we’ll have to slow down and not lose face.
Or perhaps consider some additional means
to support what we take on as our routines.
When our lifestyle doesn’t make a hole in our pocket
and the cost of living where we are doesn’t skyrocket
then the rate of inflation there is said to be low
so we can afford to buy those things we know.
Nov 4, 2010
Nov 4, 2010 at 7:01 PM UTC
Some say
cyanide’s a nasty poison,
comes in a small bottle,
that it doesn’t
take much of a dose
to change
your bodily-functions.
I’ve been told
it’ll make your eyes
roll up inside your head,
body-twitch all over,
get weak in the knees,
make your respiration skyrocket,
& your heart flutter madly!
Personally, that really
doesn’t sound too bad,
I’m just wondering
if you can get that stuff
by the case.
If it does all that sweet stuff,
I’m going to need
a lifetime supply of it.
Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 11:57 AM UTC
To the people that made me who I was,
To the people who loved me dearly,
Yet hurt me harder.
To the people who made me broken,
This is for you.
I know you are not aware of what I try to say,
I would know because, I'd never want you to.
But waking up 9 o'clock past breakfast,
Waking up to the sight of emptiness,
Made me feel about to burst.
I know you have inspired me to be better.
I know you have inspired me to skyrocket my way.
Yet I also know what you did;
I knew of your words,
I knew of your actions.
I first thought you saw me as a star;
Bright, and soaring,
Now, flashing back the things that happened before,
I felt you saw me as luggage:
Nothing but something to spend hundreds on.
I know I let you down,
But it isn't my fault my lungs can't breathe the same air,
I know I give you burden,
That I annoy you a hundredfold rather than make you feel loved,
Rather than make you feel proud of me.
I'm sorry I fell down on my absolute lows,
I'm sorry if I have always kept what truth I have,
I'm sorry I let the opportunities slip by my fingers,
I don't know what to do,
I don't know what to do.
I want to go back where my world wasn't shrouded,
I want to go back where I gave you smiles and not pain,
I want to find myself again,
But I just can't, you can't understand;
But I just can't, you can't understand.
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 1:44 PM UTC