"sliminess" poems - Hello Poetry

Sliminess of the mermaid, makes me come alive, strange? don't blame me for this, that you would think an aberration, I've long forgotten the human logic, from the moment I realized, fate has joined me with her, the mermaid, a longing unfulfilled for long, This sensual yearning sans prospect of consummation, baffles others but not me, life has many dark alleyways that go nowhere. Aren't we illusions ourselves? Viewing sun's intense ways and moon's hesitant tranquilizing gaze, through water's blue buffer is narcotic. From under water only a cool simmer , different experiences, fish fin caresses, guilty pleasures of carousals with masked shark beauties, underwater world has no pains, ever heard about stilling pain by swimming long distant nights? Or is it because, I don't see my own teardrops shed underwater?

0

Dec 2, 2012

Dec 2, 2012 at 8:37 AM UTC

k-balachandran

Tear drops shed underwater are never seen

Sliminess of the mermaid, makes me come alive, strange? don't blame me for this, that you would think an aberration, I've long forgotten the human logic, from the moment I realized, fate has joined me with her, the mermaid, a longing unfulfilled for long, This sensual yearning sans prospect of consummation, baffles others but not me, life has many dark alleyways that go nowhere. Aren't we illusions ourselves? Viewing sun's intense ways and moon's hesitant tranquilizing gaze, through water's blue buffer is narcotic. From under water only a cool simmer , different experiences, fish fin caresses, guilty pleasures of carousals with masked shark beauties, underwater world has no pains, ever heard about stilling pain by swimming long distant nights? Or is it because, I don't see my own teardrops shed underwater?

13

The faint smell of the watery sugar is barely noticed. The starfruit's fragrance swept away into faint nothingness at the hands of the tropical winds of Hawaii. Hanging onto the tree, the fruit once sour and bitter undergoes a seemingly emotional transformation. The sun's sweet-tempered fingers are secretly and appealingly molding it. It learns to be sweet instead of sour, our taste buds tingling with the power to taste, but being held closely like bloodhounds on a leash. It brings an exotic originality to the table. The Vietnamese fable, blah-blah-bitty-blah its unknown. It's skin kissed by golden rays, and the once green fades into a sweet banana yellow. on the inside, it still knows its roots, it still knows the sliminess of negativity, and on the inside it holds tan pellets shaped just like tear drops, embraced within its boogers of its old bitter soul. Droplets of water drip-drop down off the waxy fruit, and it lays silently on a freckled black marble counter. Sweating sickeningly after a cold shower, its cool glistening skin signals its execution. Soon enough the executioner arrives, the sharp shining blade blinding with bright lines of reflected light. No, it wasn't nearly as crisp and sugary as an apple, nor was it even as sweet and citrusy as an orange, and yet, it was a little bit of both. The little stars stuck somewhere in-between, alone in the galaxy of oranges and apples.

0

Sep 12, 2012

Sep 12, 2012 at 2:58 AM UTC

jessica-wong

In a galaxy of oranges and apples.

The faint smell of the watery sugar is barely noticed. The starfruit's fragrance swept away into faint nothingness at the hands of the tropical winds of Hawaii. Hanging onto the tree, the fruit once sour and bitter undergoes a seemingly emotional transformation. The sun's sweet-tempered fingers are secretly and appealingly molding it. It learns to be sweet instead of sour, our taste buds tingling with the power to taste, but being held closely like bloodhounds on a leash. It brings an exotic originality to the table. The Vietnamese fable, blah-blah-bitty-blah its unknown. It's skin kissed by golden rays, and the once green fades into a sweet banana yellow. on the inside, it still knows its roots, it still knows the sliminess of negativity, and on the inside it holds tan pellets shaped just like tear drops, embraced within its boogers of its old bitter soul. Droplets of water drip-drop down off the waxy fruit, and it lays silently on a freckled black marble counter. Sweating sickeningly after a cold shower, its cool glistening skin signals its execution. Soon enough the executioner arrives, the sharp shining blade blinding with bright lines of reflected light. No, it wasn't nearly as crisp and sugary as an apple, nor was it even as sweet and citrusy as an orange, and yet, it was a little bit of both. The little stars stuck somewhere in-between, alone in the galaxy of oranges and apples.

31

Your name fits in my mouth like an extra large marshmallow; It fills it entirely. All the while combatting the sliminess of my gums with its pillowy chalk, trying to escape any chance it can.

0

Sep 18, 2016

Sep 18, 2016 at 11:13 PM UTC

christa-tomasulo

Eating marshmallows

Your name fits in my mouth like an extra large marshmallow; It fills it entirely. All the while combatting the sliminess of my gums with its pillowy chalk, trying to escape any chance it can.

4

what once was warm and close like a kind flame dancing in the night the heat of warm hands and sunlight kissing the trees now brews contempt in murky waters stirring, sloshing with the sliminess of greed.

0

Jan 27, 2022

Jan 27, 2022 at 8:48 AM UTC

lunartales

what once was

what once was warm and close like a kind flame dancing in the night the heat of warm hands and sunlight kissing the trees now brews contempt in murky waters stirring, sloshing with the sliminess of greed.

8

Killing myself inside, full of pride, but only to the outside. Praying I will find some comfort in the art I've created only blue to draw out the details of life I was thrown into, giving me anxiety every time. When will I feel, the sliminess of the eels ******* at my toes for the journey that abides me to ride this path of life. When desperation brings me so far under, so I can once again feel something on my own, why only then will I call out your name? I want the help I've never received, to teach me, engulf me in thought, no more silence, I want a ******* riot. Standing side by side with people like me. Screaming and crying into the night to take back the right of my security, finding comfort in the dead light. I might become ill in that moment of standstill, but only then time will tell what is rightfully mine inside my mind.

0

Apr 4, 2014

Apr 4, 2014 at 2:56 AM UTC

momo-tashjian

Provoke Your Mind

Killing myself inside, full of pride, but only to the outside. Praying I will find some comfort in the art I've created only blue to draw out the details of life I was thrown into, giving me anxiety every time. When will I feel, the sliminess of the eels ******* at my toes for the journey that abides me to ride this path of life. When desperation brings me so far under, so I can once again feel something on my own, why only then will I call out your name? I want the help I've never received, to teach me, engulf me in thought, no more silence, I want a ******* riot. Standing side by side with people like me. Screaming and crying into the night to take back the right of my security, finding comfort in the dead light. I might become ill in that moment of standstill, but only then time will tell what is rightfully mine inside my mind.

1

i write my words laced with love but i have never even tasted it and never have ever felt its flavour glide against my tongue and on the surface of my lips never once held such in my hands or even felt it graze upon my fingertips but there are few instances in which i thought it was love as sweet and raw as it was but it was no more than the sliminess of infatuation and the bitter coldness of a crush.

0

Jun 1, 2020

Jun 1, 2020 at 2:45 AM UTC

lunartales

the flavour of love

i write my words laced with love but i have never even tasted it and never have ever felt its flavour glide against my tongue and on the surface of my lips never once held such in my hands or even felt it graze upon my fingertips but there are few instances in which i thought it was love as sweet and raw as it was but it was no more than the sliminess of infatuation and the bitter coldness of a crush.

12