"sno" poems
My soul's hot pink,
like them bubble gum squares,
cool, strawberry fizzy drinks,
and a thick candy ice cream.
Those warm, glazed over doughnuts,
cupcakes with light sprinkles,
jelly beans, tufts of cotton candy,
and a tub of small macaroons.
My soul's hot pink,
like them candy hearts, sweet or ****
chocolate coated easter eggs,
lolipops, and sugar rocks.
Those creamy cakes, fruity tastes,
of gum drops, frozen pops,
of sno-cones drizzled, cookie wafers,
and sweet marshmallows; smoothies.
Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 4:30 PM UTC
The meaning fo metathesis si easy ot recall
When you give your love a ikss or throw your sno a ball,
Aks fro sugra ni your cup nad dressnig no the greens
Obedience school fro the pup ro you may riks a scene.
Og fro the glod ni all you od nad when you've done your bets
Relax nad know that you will og fra along your quets,
Snik a putt ot get the pra like pors no the V.T.
Write a sotry, count the stras, climb the lod brich tree.
Aug 13, 2010
Aug 13, 2010 at 10:04 AM UTC
A figment of fictition
So persistent in perdition
Little distant,
Little hat trick
Lay her down upon my mattress
I spit hot glue
whether or not I ought to
It's never thought through,
never bought new
I never sought another off-tune
Sound
I'm perfectly happy with my own.
And life's an acquired taste (bittersweet trainwreck)
Just like a whiskey flavored sno-cone
So just
Relax.
Take your bags off and lean back
Discheveled chivalry,
Burning bush,
Uttered simile
Muttered quickly
In a sea of young blood and old trees
Just try and make a meek response,
recompose your shattered sconce
Redirect it all deliberately
with my newfound friend tenacity
I report a list of casualties
after a hurricane of history
Recurring dreams are haunting me
Face-to-face with Mephistopheles
Which I ponder in all honesty.
Should I fear the devil within,
even if I don't believe in him
or is it enough
that he believes in me?
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 1:16 AM UTC
~~~
*bathed by breezes of southern gentility,
sun soaped by eye-prickling,
star twinkling glints,
shampooed in delicious waves
of white sno caps,
my crazy wild hair,
conditioned by the foaming bay's riffles
dappled waters transformed into a
Van Gogh glow of
The Sower
sprinkling golden seed
upon fields of summer wheat glorious
my little yellow rubber duckies,
are now blue white snow geese alive,
down from Nova Scotia,
where August is already
emboldened colden,
so they non-stop honk
tho mere passerbys,
everybody is seeking a place in history,
the surety,
that this poem,
by their inclusion herein,
promises posterity
the grass blades wave with
endless swaying applause,
at yet another attempt of poetic tribute,
for once more,
spell bound
by the bounty of the moment,
enslaved happily to the idea
there is no satiation possible
from the earthly satisfaction of this place,
this sheltered isle
the leaves are cappuccino frothy performers,
unison shaking just like a roman legion of stadium fans,
they offer me untold numbers of
likes and reads,
and other candied goodies,
promises endless to root for my winter dream teams,
if their presence is here
prominently included,
until they too
fall silent, grounded,
shed by their rightful owners
every time I think the well is dry,
swept under by a rip tide
of drowning overwhelming gratitude,
for here I come to a place.
a station for repair,
where poems are bandied about,
summer fruits ripe for plucking
sunroom lace, summer curtains,
will hide out here in my absence,
the lace, turns into snowflakes crystalline,
by icy waters and gusts,
that will be both
untrodden and unadmired
for when the poet is clad in the
damask drapes of winter's inevitability,
will close his eyes and
will hide out here,
right here,
in this one of his never ending
prior~poem~prayers homages,
until next year's
can't-come- too-early spring arrives,
sparked by tendrils of meeting markers,
noting that
new poems have been fallow fallen,
winter seeded,
awaiting your
watering and writing,
of the appreciation
of the
simple majesty
of this small corner of the earth*
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 9:18 PM UTC
i will become extinct now
because the cows that i love
to eat and drink will have
no more grass to mow
leaving machine processed
foods for nourishment. eliminating
the use of my four-thousand dollar
orthodontic pretty white pearls and
find worth in the five-thousand
dollar allo-derm gum implants.
i will become extinct now as
my forty-year-old digestive
system in which has been pumping
iron exercises three times a day
testing it’s strength with an
8 ounce filet mignon will have
no use any longer so long
to my habitual adult grape
juice for the vines will have
no place to grow. soon they’ll be
powderized. they’ll capsulize my merlot.
i will become extinct now as
the sun sets but only
because it’s manufactured
like pirates of the caribbean
ride you don’t know you’re
inside. fake flames. fake heat.
fake sunsets which provoke my
deepest feelings. artificial now
emotions controlled to it’s
purest form snowboarding
on snoopy sno-cone creations.
replacing our creator with the
lastest inventions. i will
become extinct now.
for i cannot live this way
because my heart is real.
Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 6:04 PM UTC
I carry my doubt, worry, fears out to your truck but leave them in the passengers seat.
For this moment, I am alive.
I gaze out towards the orange and brown trees, tinted with a red as deep as the love I feel for you. Walk towards the wind, my hair rustles with the leaves and you laugh as my cheeks turn pink from the cold. Sit out on a dock and overlookinh a lake straight from a painting, I am alive. I can see the green horizon and the reflections of branches in the water, over hills and under grass, if you look just a little farther, you'll find you and me, because we're so alone in this moment and I can finally breathe because I feel so free. I lean into the wind, fall back against the dock and sigh, a smile on my face, the lake looks like a thousand diamonds strewn across a blue plane. I am alive. I am breathing, and for once I don't hate the fact that I am. This sno-berry tea carries the taste of longing that, if elsewhere, I can only get from your lips, and I love it. I am an addict itching for a fix of release from reality and instead of my normal methods, I found it in you.
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 6:16 PM UTC
Comparing her
With the other girl
Same face
Same taste
She's funny
And nice
The other one is cold
And fierce
They have the same voice
Same voice but different tones
Kind of similar
But will always differ
Once upon a time
This little girl was so nice
The other one is cold as ice
Suddenly, everything changed in a blink of an eye
She disappeared
Drifted away, faded
Left them behind
Left him behind
She left just before the spring came
She left just before the winter vanished
She left the night before
She left the night after a precious day
She left without saying a word
She left without saying goodbye
She left at midnight
Cold, but has a heart of fire
Snow, Snow
Please come out
Snow, Snow
Please stop hiding
Winter, Winter
Stop trying
Winter, Winter
You don't deserve him
Suddenly, Spring came
And everything changed
Everyone changed
Just like how the season changed
Let it snow, let it snow, let it sno- Wait
Was it still Snow I see?
Or Spring
Who creeps the hell out of me?
4 years had passed
But the feeling
It's always there
They won't just go away
Hey King
What would you choose?
Winter Wonderland
Or Let it Snow?
Aug 11, 2016
Aug 11, 2016 at 6:36 AM UTC
you tiptoe through the darkness
towards me, kissing my palm,
my forearm, my shoulder
my neck, my lips.
we lay here, yes, here,
and you caress me until,
like butter, or a sno-cone,
i have melted in your hands.
my bed is a sanctuary
and we've come to pray.
two strangers, comfortable,
knowing everything, and nothing.
Jun 1, 2017
Jun 1, 2017 at 7:44 PM UTC
mechanical bulls riding automated peoples
candy covered chocolate
and sprinkles on sno-cones.
colored dreams
and thoughts with schemes
light bulbs burning bright
and frozen ice cream.
old trophies of victories
and losses of equal kind,
tossed aside memories
like a freegan’s best find.
step in my head,
there's a party going on
I thought I shouldn’t
but I’ll invite you, instead.
never again will I doubt life’s signs
stories and adventures;
candies of all kinds.
Jun 30, 2010
Jun 30, 2010 at 4:05 PM UTC
you cut open my core and threw my insides at the walls
with all of your indecencies and heedless galaxies
that i'd try to explore, but you kept closed, and gravity;
my feet on the ground as they should be,
as musicians and stupid poets like me
dedicate promises we're positive don't change how you love.
and i figure you to be my supernova.
this abominable disaster you've caused transformed me into
the ink blots splattered and messy and unconstitutional cracks
in the ceiling that we think to fix but never quite have enough spackle.
and i'm **** at sewing, but you force me to stitch myself back
together for days and weeks until i said,
"i want you out of my life"
even though we both knew i was lying and desperate to feel
something because ****** romantics like me
want hermia and lysander,
not demetrius and helena.
and we can't think without the noise of each other and the
constant loose ends that fray,
and time and time again imissyouimissyouimissyou.
and my silence, your silence is the loudest heartbreak i know,
and beethoven never had these problems because he could feel
and he knew that fire and hearts do not mix,
and neither should deceit,
but pretty boy you tore out my heart with burning hands and kept
it in your back pocket with all the others,
and i never said otherwise because at least i was something to you
even if our hearts beat to different drums,
and explosions,
and cracked ribs that you'd like to take because my heart wasn't enough and you needed pieces of me to make yourself feel whole.
and i wish i was a little more selfish because i'm stuck with a
carcass of my old self and the buzzards don't care of the
shell i am now; made up of frozen sno cones, and your eyes.
Apr 8, 2018
Apr 8, 2018 at 10:51 PM UTC
Yellow: The color of your thick, wonderful voice dripping into my ear when you spoke to me as I laid in your lap on that Wednesday evening.
Blue: The color of your old bike that you would ride past my house on, sailing straight through the neighbors sprinklers when they splashed onto the street.
Red: The color of that Sno-Cone you spilled on my lap. You stroked my leg with your napkin. My soul felt on fire.
Pink: The color of your smooth shoulders after that day at the beach. I still hear the sea at times.
Purple: The color of the sky on nights where the only sounds were the brushings of the tall grass and the whisperings of our two voices.
White: The color of the blanket we used to use when we had picnics on Sunday’s. Those stains won’t seem to come out of that thing.
Orange: The color of the warm bonfire that would spatter across your face when we toasted marshmallows as the putrid smoke crept into our lungs slowly, and with a scary silence.
Green: The color of the shirt you wore to that concert. I had never heard of the band, but you had said you liked them. I bought our tickets.
Silver: The color of your small car. I counted the seconds it took for you to pull out of my driveway when you left for the last time. 5 seconds.
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 3:42 PM UTC
When I was eight I learned to swim the hard way
my minuscule body flung into the deep end
like a leaf in the wind.
Falling without grace,
arms flailing,
eyes wide and my face redder than a cherry.
Kinda like falling in love with you.
Plunging head first drowning in your maple chocolate mocha latte ******* amazing eyes
like tree trunk spirals and rainy days and warm brownies on cold evenings
the fun of youth
I love
struggling to catch my breath with you
relying on the sweet oxygen exhaled from your lips when we kiss
the gross aftertaste of the food we just ate
but baby
I don't give a ****
Because when I'm with you my heart works in overdrive
your smile sends static shivers shooting sparks of awe through my body
like I've never felt before
even as I'm drowning
I've never been so alive
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 4:05 PM UTC
Do you know how sometimes you have this one thing that makes you happy, even for a little bit.
Like a drink. A certain kind that's your favorite. You'll drive to three different gas stations looking for it, because nothing else tastes the same.
No matter how hard you look for something else, it never measures up.
That feeling of momentary happiness is gone.
Even if one comes real close, you know it'll never be your favorite.
Well.
You are my sno berry peace tea.
You are it for me.
No matter how hard I try.
Sep 5, 2016
Sep 5, 2016 at 12:35 AM UTC