"snugly" poems
Ceramic white, wood richly brown
Smooth liquid....touching buds of taste
Lips chasing chatter, slithering slogan sentences
Arm reaching, lift off, exposing the pit, selecting
Combination to the gestured shape, proposing
Enlivening, trickling conversation tripping
To my left. A phone, pressing snugly, ear
Tuned up, alerted, filtering the microwave
Throng. With welcome warmth, thaw began
Icy film packaging a heart temporarily beat
Free, playing, fraternising.....roulette with Russia
Jan 5, 2013
Jan 5, 2013 at 6:15 PM UTC
This is to every sour patch kid
That ever tried to be cool by going off the grid
But you’re only as cool
As that mouth behind your cig
And the thoughts you numb with aspirin
I think we all know
It’s sour
Then sweet
But not before it’s gone
So keep it in your mouth a little longer
And then maybe
Just maybe
We won’t cry every time the bag is empty
And the lights turn out
And all we have left are those little grains of sour
That we still eat anyway
This is to every sour patch kid
That ever wrote “I love you” on your eye lids
Then fluttered your lashes
But closed your eyes for too long
Too long to see that the party was gone
And that you were the only one still pretending to have fun
Lets for a minute pretend that
The red ones aren’t just Swedish fish with a little bit of tang
And that the slang you throw in there
Doesn’t make your words anymore true
But were all gonna scream it anyway
Then maybe
Just maybe when we’re screaming
We’ll forget how to talk
And have to use our hand to say more than
Flipping the bird ever could
This is to every sour patch kid
That only did what they did
Just to say that they could
What society forbid
Well this is how it ends
The bag in which you so snugly live
Is ripped open with teeth
And when that happens
You’re gonna fly in between the
Gear shift and the seat
And then maybe
Just maybe
The hand will be skilled enough to get you out
If you’re lucky enough they even look
But even as messed up as that is
Or even as wasted as Kesha is
She has a point
We are who we are
Sincerely, The Breakfast Club
Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 8:24 PM UTC
stitched Teal fabric
snugly hugs the hills and valleys
of fat and muscle
encasing the frail ivory timber within
Feb 3, 2010
Feb 3, 2010 at 1:21 AM UTC
Some Jamie snugly in me hand,
A cause for celebration,
Today, I found me promised land:
The home of Irish nation.
I dyed me hair shamrock green,
I made me teeth look orange,
(A spliff of Carroll's in between)
A sliver of Dutch courage.
I mingle with the leprechauns
(A shamrock on me chest)
Not in a thousand years gone,
I’m messing with the best.
Atop the jolly rainbow,
In hand – a *** of gold,
Revering, till I find me rest,
The stories I’ve been told.
Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 2:49 AM UTC
I had a collar once
Of black leather and sky blue fur
And it fit me snugly
It was all I could ask for.
When my thoughts rampaged
As they do very second of everyday
I'd wrap it round my neck
And the noise would fade.
They called me a freak.
They looked at me in disgust, I was shamed
Because they don't understand
The need to be tamed.
Whether round my neck
Or around my wrists and ankles
Without a tether, I fret
Thus, for that collar, I am thankful.
I once felt guilt
Worse than any other pain
It weighed me down
As though it waterlogged my brain.
And all I wished
Was to atone
For a whip
To sing to my bones.
*"Why invite pain?
God, she's disgusting?
She's ******* insane!"*
The words said to me.
But how could they know
How much I wanted to cry?
How much I wanted discipline
To ease the guilt in my mind?
I once heard a scream
And it scampered down my spine
Like it was a living, sentient being
Infiltrating my mind.
And I'm sure I'd be a pariah
If I ever told anyone
I wanted to cause that scream
To make it sound like painful salvation.
I once cried
I hurt myself as comfort
And the feeling of that pain
Was so very sweet and so very short
And they'd call me a fool
Yet I still crave pain
And they'd think of me badly
For what I can't contain.
See, I'm far from vanilla
I'm far from innocence
Because all life gave me
Was cold and cimmerian.
There's a word for what I do
A lovely acronym
And it's so far from vanilla
Most describe it as a sin.
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 8:41 PM UTC
There is an old proverb
And this is how it goes
'A ship is safe when harbored,
Snugly in land that's closed.'
But ships weren't meant to be harbored,
They were not built to be snug but free,
Their masts to fly high and proud,
Through the stormy waves of seas.
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 5:35 PM UTC
We're two puzzle pieces trying to fit together perfectly
Secretly hoping that my curves and your angles fit together snugly
Except you can never put a square inside of the circle hole on the children's toys
And you can never put a circle in the square hole.
So you whisper sweet nothings in my ear hoping that your love will be reciprocated
Like a lost puppy looking for a home
Crying out for the love it needs to survive.
And I give what I can
but my love isn't quite what you were wanting
You try to drown your sorrows and pain
forgetting that your a puzzle piece
Leaving your edges torn and tattered
I hold you close trying to fix all the damage
But I'm no puzzle maker
You seemed to have forgotten
That we fit together perfectly
Because your head fits perfectly in the crook of my neck
And your arm fits perfectly around my shoulders
Even though the curve of your lips doesn't quite match up with mine
Don't think for a second that I won't hold you close while you try to mend a broken heart.
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 4:18 PM UTC
so much depends
upon a green pencil
fitted snugly between
the blue and the yellow
upon a line drawn
across a page
where the sky
and sunburst clay meet
— as neighbours
who smile and wave
without names
or words exchanged —
upon a silence punctuated
by shafts of pine
shaved close by winding
laneways into storyteller points
Feb 23, 2022
Feb 23, 2022 at 3:37 AM UTC
Driving thru lots of
Parked cars, many un-
Aligned...
Ask you?
Askew...
Wow. There oughta be
A law or two to keep
Those cars in lines.
(Let's get Google to
Drive our cars for us!
They'd behave better,
Until they became self-
Aware, that is)
Googo-
Pocalpyse
Navigating parking lots is
Gambling against heavily
Uneven odds, the House(s)
Eventually winning by de
Fault of small electronics
Merry Christmas! Used
To hear that from just about
Every mouth and furry pair
Of lips. Now, the ubiquitous
"Happy Holidays" or as Seinfeld
So brilliantly mocked,
"Festivus for the Restofus"
The mocking is now
Knocking on our
Cultural Door to
Heck
Driving past a Fitness
Planet: the misspeled
Word "Judgement"
And the irony poking
Me in the eye is that little
"E"
That SHOULD belong nestled
Snugly in the deep middle of
That word, but, strangly, isntt...
And I'm doing what that sign
Admiringly attempts to cajole:
I'm judging. I'm judgEing.
I do this, constantly, all
My waking minutes:
Not passing on judging, but
Holding 4 aces and 1 joker...
(Me)
Hands clenched in rage as
(Again)
I steer obliquely thru parking
Lots, doing the very same
Crime I accuse everyone else
Being guilty of...
I scream...
THERE IS NO 'e' IN
JUDGEMENT!
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 8:55 AM UTC
Content, clarity, no calling home
Surrounded snugly in sunshine’s roam
What naturally burns is saving
Cleansing the soul in its raving
Yet somber shadows induce chills of night
And the sun regresses in imperative flight
The moon brings forth its calming glow
So soon It’s realized she’s all alone
The gnawing proceeds from deep in her mind
Progressing forward without a bind.
Dropping, drifting, dying leaves
Just like their path her thoughts shall weave
To and fro between a mood
Sweet and caring turned suddenly rude
Cold winds lead to a chilling sight
Everything’s changed but It says all is right
Soon the world blends together as one
No longer touched by the warmth of the sun
Temperatures drop and so does her head
Leaden with sorrow as she makes for her bed.
Empty, endlessly enduring days
Isolation extends but it’s deemed okay
Dreams die, concealed by snow
She wants to leave but cannot go
Icy winds blowing cold as her heart
Frozen solid and wishing to part
Getting used to the pain
With no hope to gain
Too weak to worry with no emotions felt
She’s forced to awaken as the world starts to melt.
Free and flowering fields now bring
Hope to the girl who could not sing
Coming from the showering rain
The healing waters break through the pain
Finally she’s found the truest way
To stop and force her problems away
Soon enough she’s rediscovered her smile
And returns to the friends she hasn’t seen in a while
Oh but It’s smart, much smarter than we
So smart that nobody could ever have seen
Greatly, gladly going home
Swimming deep in water’s foam
A calm, warm night has come to cease
Their world is frantic while hers sees peace
Searching hard for a missing girl
Reaching the river, their stomachs curl
Soaking, dripping, they find what’s wrong
Realizing now how long she’s been gone
Eroding sadness, consumed by pain
Now they can feel what she did every day.
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 8:44 PM UTC
Among the orchard weeds, from every search,
Snugly and sure, the old hen’s nest is made,
Who cackles every morning from her perch
To tell the servant girl new eggs are laid;
Who lays her washing by, and far and near
Goes seeking all about from day to day,
And stung with nettles tramples everywhere;
But still the cackling pullet lays away.
The boy on Sundays goes the stack to pull
In hopes to find her there, but naught is seen,
And takes his hat and thinks to find it full,
She’s laid so long so many might have been.
But naught is found and all is given o’er
Till the young brood come chirping to the door.
2.5k
Sparks ignite wick nerves
Burning throughout
Melting wax flesh
Pooling snugly
Melding
warmth departing
coagulating and cold
disconnect impossible
shape of an accident
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 6:29 AM UTC
I hope you wore a sweater,
in your favorite shade of blue.
It gets cold in late November,
_(it gets darker faster, too)_
I hope the shoes you wore fit snugly
_(even if your socks don't match)_
I hope your last day wasn't ugly,
I hope the pain was over fast.
I'm sure you felt your sadness deeply,
I'm sure you felt your heart ache too.
When you took a walk when all were sleeping,
in your favorite shade of blue.
I wonder what it felt like,
to pick the perfect tree.
To end your painful heartache,
snug shoes on dangling feet.
But my most pressing question,
that I would ask of you,
is where did you lose your earbud?
_(you're wearing one, not two)_
They moved you to the metal table,
_(the one that tilts down at an angle)_
They cut the sweater off you too,
your favorite one in midnight blue.
They make their notes:
your weight,
your height.
They check your shoulder width and write:
"He will fit a standard casket"
_(they carry on with their assessment)_
"Rope indentation - on the neck
Eyes and fingers - blue and red
Socks mismatching
Nike shoes
One earbud gone"
_(that's all I knew)_
Tell me why'd you take that walk?
I know the road ahead looked bare.
Tell me how you chose a song.
Did you brush your teeth and comb your hair?
Did it happen on a school night?
_(your file says you were in 12th grade)_
Did you tell your mom you loved her?
- with your mind already made.
So to the boy with just one earbud,
I'm sorry this world felt so wrong.
I hope you're in your favorite sweater,
and you're listening to your favorite song.
Dec 10, 2023
Dec 10, 2023 at 8:44 AM UTC
End a man?
Sure why not.
Show him to me.
Let me bury a sword in his chest or a bullet in his brain.
Let me feed him secret poisons and beat him with blatant fists.
Let me choke him snugly so I feel this whisper of his life as it departs.
Just let me at him.
Oh.
You meant, "Have you ever?"
In that case...
No.
May 12, 2012
May 12, 2012 at 4:45 PM UTC
Teething abdomen,
We've eaten ourselves into abundance!
And we're so very desolate,
Lonely,
Beside our digestive pile of excremental idioms.
I am God,
He said,
Then choked to death on a raisin.
God is subject to nothing!
Except raisins,
It would seem,
Then he woke,
God was having a dream.
I killed God,
It said,
As it sat snugly in the throat of God!
No figment of imagination,
Could make believe me,
It said,
Then poofed,
And became nonexistent.
No more late nights he said,
Then went to back to bed three days later,
And dreamed himself a woman to make love to,
And woke alone.
Apr 24, 2010
Apr 24, 2010 at 12:02 AM UTC
Sub-atomic particles
the atoms they form
molecules, cell organelles
cells, machinery of life
organs, organisms
communities and ecosystems
planets, solar systems, galaxies
galactic clusters and their inverse
black holes the doors to other
universes, a contradiction
in terms.
For language and its shadow
consciousness must hold matter
the material world snugly inside concepts
theories and hypotheses to be
experimentally verified using vision
and the other senses, collecting data
and interpreting the known facts
accumulated over time.
Can matter
exist without a consciousness to behold it?
Believing in
our mortality (the species)
we have created God
(a supreme being)
probably not carbon-based
to encompass every universe
but is God
inside or outside
consciousness? Can God
tell us what to do
or must we tell God
alone
what to do?
Here is ego
projecting personality, exerting force
on community, asserting the existence
and predominance of component DNA.
An already hackneyed theory that DNA
survival drives
procreation, personality, savings bonds
everything but poetry (most poems included).
Mustache, cowboy hat
horse whisperer, gulag master
Odysseus, King Lear
salvation in the details.
Yes, these personalities individual and interesting
as opossum, bear
oak and ash
beech nut, pine cone
Grand Canyon sandstone, Green Mountain granite.
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 5:13 PM UTC
Thick glasses till high school,
Long hair done up in a pony tail,
With a lollipop between her lips
Tinted with a strawberry lip balm,
And lemon drops in her pockets,
She graduated and entered grad school.
Lenses replaced those nerdy glasses,
Siren red colored her lips instead--
Lipsticks were here to stay and reign.
Lollipops were childish, but cigarettes thrilled,
Smoked with élan, only to bring bored numbness
Behind those costly sunglasses hiding her eyes,
Set snugly into her neat brown chignon.
Little did they know, though beautiful,
She refused to led down her hair,
For her demons would go on a rampage
And her illness would devour her:
That which was kept at bay,
By anti-depressants in her pockets
A wistful dirge for her golden days.
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 2:20 PM UTC
i am lost in the wisp of your faltering
the fluttering of concrete entrenched
into stoic rigmarole
to reach out layer by layer
peeling unearthing
a catatonic subdivision of disjoint subdivisions
a limit ordinal
between touch and feeling
where we kiss on the cusp of that silent ocean on the edge of sound
drowned in the nebulous familiarity of
a distant melody
a tired resolve
re solve the old puzzle muscle memory's misted amnesia
half the pieces falling out the warn tinderbox
inarticulate drowned severed isomorphisms over
brea(d)thless infinities
self adjoint matted topologies
nestled snugly in the amniotic absolution
of form before being
hands of matted ice
contorted into perfection
by the sculpting propensities
of undulations of estrangement,
where we touch in the cusp of self reflections thousand mirrors inverted propensities
infinite infinitesimals
nestled meromorphic partitions
hidden corners in the brevity of dusk
multiplicities fragmenting behind empty veils
( to be seen is to be made discrete
to be discrete is to flicker
and disappear
(inevitably invariable
inevitable invariability))
we
stand in a waterfall of gravel
and drown our voices in the choke of our cellophane hearts
caked
into fillets of aphasic tundra
where we whisper our nothings in the desert on the boundary of silence
our words
escape us
like rats from shipwreck
we are
disembowelled catharsis
intentional and fatuous
retching upon itself
severed
and free
and dead
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 8:53 AM UTC
Fairness!
vast, equal ideas that claim to propose the similarity of wave particle to the icecaps!
the relation of a quasar to a trampoline!
the formation of matter resulted solely so that sixty-seven hours of detention could be issued to retain and break the spirit of contradictory efforts!
I heard such fond words about the so-called real world!
a reality measured in it's invisibility!
measured in the lock and chain of binding expressionless touch!
Freedom!
I embrace you as a brother
your words and games fit me so snugly!
drag me into false kingdoms!
I am willing!
your vapor trails, I find intoxicating
your summers, endless
I renounce all desire to move anywhere but up and into your ever-seeing heat gaze!
whose red stare coats the sky and ground
your primitive, machine gun logic
I am pierced by your omnipotence!
you claimed my brothers, now claim me!
Jan 26, 2011
Jan 26, 2011 at 11:23 AM UTC
1.The Serpent
Pensive, she lies alone on her soft feather bed expectant.
Her eyes widely shut, imagining moments wildly exciting.
Serpentine desire contained in the burrow of her mind,
Sneaks out, slithers, snugly coils around her dainty waist.
2.Fact finder's predicament
The fact finding committee at last,
met in silence, in all seriousness,
But each member was found
taking a walk, in a direction different.
Each one's sweet whim, clearly
did reflect in the facts they unearthed.
Reaching a point of convergence,
therefore was not something expected.
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 5:09 AM UTC
He was her skeleton key
changing shape and
fitting snugly to her,
dying to unlock
her so that he could
reside in the space
between her ribs
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 12:15 AM UTC
127
“Houses”—so the Wise Men tell me—
“Mansions”! Mansions must be warm!
Mansions cannot let the tears in,
Mansions must exclude the storm!
“Many Mansions,” by “his Father,”
I don’t know him; snugly built!
Could the Children find the way there—
Some, would even trudge tonight!
1.4k
Those birds that sit on the grid wires
It’s how they like to start their day
Waiting snugly for the sun to rise
Are they owls? I cannot say.
The sun is rising, warm and calm
An orange hue, only of the rising kind
The rays touch my skin like a soothing balm
Extracting layers of pain from my mind.
Yesterday was a new day
It somehow turned its back on me
Today is another new day
A new chance for my mind to be free.
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 10:02 AM UTC
Terrified
of taking this chance
and letting you see
just how jagged every
little piece
of
me is. Broken, all my
scattered portions flutter
away until I'm no
longer sure of just
what
picture they used to
complete. And you come
along, strolling oh-so-
casually to retrieve
this
piece and that piece,
fitting them in their
rightful places again.
Each snugly put in with a
love
I never imagined could
exist in reality. So tell me
why, when I so clearly see
your pure intentions, why
can
I not just accept it all?
Instead I wonder, second-
guess, and contemplate
running. Can I ever just
be...
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 3:05 PM UTC
Your lying here right by my side
Wrapped snugly in my arms
Your sleeping sound just knowing that
I'll keep you safe from harm!
You make me feel like Hercules
Or strong as superman
Cause when life gets a little tough
You leave it to my plan!
I'll always hold you tight and safe
I'll stick to you like glue
You ever feel a bit alone,
Just look, I'm here for you!
I took my place right by your side
Just on our wedding day
I promised you I'd honor you
In each and every way!
I know I've let you down some times-
Forgive me for the past
Just give me one more chance to build
A love to always last!
It won't take long to prove to you
I'll never leave again
I'll stand with you and hold you tight
From now till very end!
So as you lay right here beside
Lost only in your dreams
Know I'll be here through all our life
And show what true love means!
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 1:17 AM UTC