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"spearmint" poems
The arctic cold has brushed my cheek once again The skies are stained white and the ringing in my ears is louder than ever I wonder what the clouds are doing, I never see them anymore The night doesnt come but the sun doesn't shine I have a silver notebook I write, spearmint Because my eyes are watering but I feel nothing The world is dry while the air is full And the heavens take their morning pills Wash their face Head off sleepily to begrudgingly watch the icy seas The wind bites my cheeks But moves in such silence I wonder if the feeling is not just my routine punishment At least I'm used to my spirits At least I have a jacket on At least the heavens didnt take a sick day all together.
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Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 9:45 AM UTC
Snow storm
Does she sit on our bench? Steal ketchup from your tray as you take her fries? Does she make your eyes as ***** and moronically wide as they were when they met mine? Do you play her our song? Does she lay on your lap and hum along as you strum? Does she laugh like I do, in the middle of a kiss for no apparent reason, except because she's having fun? Does she taste like I do? Like our packs of mints and spearmint gum? Do you talk to her like you talked to me? Recite lines from cheesy romantic comedy? Do you roll around with her behind velvet curtains? Does she look at you as if she's certain that... She loves you? Does she love you? Do you love her too? Do you love her like the way I loved you? Did you love me too? Did I sit on her bench? Steal looks from your eyes as you took my fries? Did you play me her song? Did I steal her kisses, her laughter, her fun? Did I taste like her gum? Steal her cheesy lines? Roll around with her man behind those curtains? Did you ever feel as certain that... You loved me? Did you love me? I loved you. Does she sit on our bench?
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Sep 4, 2018
Sep 4, 2018 at 4:33 PM UTC
Does She Sit on Our Bench?
Symbol: The goat Opposite Sign: Cancer Meaning: The achiever Modality: Cardinal Element: Earth Ruling House: The tenth Ruling Body: Saturn Motto: I build Birthstone: Garnet Color: Brown Metal: Silver Flower: Carnation Fragrance: Spearmint Lucky Day: Saturday Numbers: 3, 4, 9 Lucky Colors: Red, Pink, Purple, Blue Lucky Flowers: Cyclamen, Plantain lily, Fittonia Capricorn is: persevering, patient, conventional, practical and disciplined.  Capricorn can be practical, unemotional, sober, orderly, controlling and manipulative.
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Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 1:25 AM UTC
Capricorn
You said to me, "It means we're in love," When I told you my new spearmint toothpaste reminded me of you. I said, "I never knew love was as easy as toothpaste."
0
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 4:23 AM UTC
Toothpaste
sun girls: they’re all bright eyes and warm hands, they’ll kiss you on the cheek. beautiful freckles. glowing skin, sunflowers and paintbrushes gripped tightly in their hand. moon girls: dark clothes and a eyes-closed kind of grin, beat up sneakers and an arizona iced tea, hair that shines, they sparkle even in the dark. soft kisses that taste like spearmint. mercury girls: smooth talkers, could convince you to do anything. big eyes and round lips, hair tied up or tucked behind their ear. late night walks and quiet conversations. venus girls: lipgloss and breathless laughing, soft hands and tummy. kissing their girlfriend randomly. a voice like honey. hypnotizingly lovely. muffled music and strawberry lemonade. mars girls: quick winks and subtle smirks. would **** for you. a love deeper than the ocean, strong shoulders and collar bones. ****** knuckles healing over and tight hugs. neptune girls: dreamy girls, hazy around the edges. tilting their heads to the side and sleeping soundly. delicate hands and cherry chapstick. hot cups of tea served with knowing eyes. saturn girls: sharpened pencils tucked behind their ear. serious eyes with a hint of laughter. tapping their toes and paying attention. books piled high with the pages well loved. jupiter girls: moving their hips and applying lipstick. a smile that electrifies you and lips that entrance you. has a hundred admirers but loves the one girl she can’t have. red lights and excitement. pluto girls: confidence that carries through the air. tastes like energy drinks and lightning. crooked smile messy hair. continuous movement with no time to talk. gesturing hands and shuffling papers.
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Oct 12, 2017
Oct 12, 2017 at 9:16 AM UTC
some kinds of girls
sun girls: they’re all bright eyes and warm hands, they’ll kiss you on the cheek. beautiful freckles. glowing skin, sunflowers and paintbrushes gripped tightly in their hand. moon girls: dark clothes and a eyes-closed kind of grin, beat up sneakers and an arizona iced tea, hair that shines, they sparkle even in the dark. soft kisses that taste like spearmint. mercury girls: smooth talkers, could convince you to do anything. big eyes and round lips, hair tied up or tucked behind their ear. late night walks and quiet conversations. venus girls: lipgloss and breathless laughing, soft hands and tummy. kissing their girlfriend randomly. a voice like honey. hypnotizingly lovely. muffled music and strawberry lemonade. mars girls: quick winks and subtle smirks. would **** for you. a love deeper than the ocean, strong shoulders and collar bones. ****** knuckles healing over and tight hugs. neptune girls: dreamy girls, hazy around the edges. tilting their heads to the side and sleeping soundly. delicate hands and cherry chapstick. hot cups of tea served with knowing eyes. saturn girls: sharpened pencils tucked behind their ear. serious eyes with a hint of laughter. tapping their toes and paying attention. books piled high with the pages well loved. jupiter girls: moving their hips and applying lipstick. a smile that electrifies you and lips that entrance you. has a hundred admirers but loves the one girl she can’t have. red lights and excitement. pluto girls: confidence that carries through the air. tastes like energy drinks and lightning. crooked smile messy hair. continuous movement with no time to talk. gesturing hands and shuffling papers.
Continue reading...
18
~ Take my hand, I’ll lead the way Through oatmeal frosted cookie fields The two of us will run and play Enjoying all this vision yields ~ Candy coated pebble lanes Lined with chocolate butter creams Fence line melted sugar cane Here among our wildest dreams ~ So much love I have for you As we stroll this paradise Whipped cream sea foam as our view And your beauty, very nice ~ Hold me close as now we lay Neath strawberry pudding skies Kiss me once more on this day As I gaze into your eyes ~ Spearmint gumdrop pines they sing Melodies we love to hear Through red velvet clouds to bring All we see so crystal clear ~ Marshmallow whips and jelly beans Lemon drops from up above Life is more than what it seems When it’s shared with one you love
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Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 6:18 PM UTC
Life is more than what it seems ~ A collaboration ~ Kalypso and Jack
Walking into first period I am a 12-year-old girl again, Confidence turned into racing heartbeats and jumbled words. Imaginary conversations fill my head with possibilities but nothing ever seems to escape my lips but a timid smile. I trash my spearmint gum and begin walking back to my seat, the teacher has only just begun talking. I take three steps before daring to look up, by the fourth I see blue out of my peripheral... You are looking at me. The fifth step, I am looking at you. And for the entirety of that second all the other faces of the room blurred and I swear the history lesson took a pause for the present and there was solely that simple look to be shared. A look I have found to be all too familiar but yet it never comes enough to be able to fully decipher it. It is a look of timid desire. It is a look of fire and ice, of two elements of opposite worlds colliding. It is a look of earth and water. A sly romance which everyone sees but no one knows. Water hits the shore and I am chocolate melting, I am soil eroding. I am the tree's branches bending under the misty wind. I am the earthquake that causes the hurricane, the tsunami. Yet you are calm like the tranquil sea. Your eyes the color of the shallow water on a southern beach just before the break of a gentle wave at shore in the first hour of sunrise. I think of you, and there are butterflies. I look at you, and they rest. We both simultaneously break our glance as I turn to my seat. Oh, how I wish you were sitting next to me.
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Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 11:07 AM UTC
To the boy who sits behind me
Walking into first period I am a 12-year-old girl again, Confidence turned into racing heartbeats and jumbled words. Imaginary conversations fill my head with possibilities but nothing ever seems to escape my lips but a timid smile. I trash my spearmint gum and begin walking back to my seat, the teacher has only just begun talking. I take three steps before daring to look up, by the fourth I see blue out of my peripheral... You are looking at me. The fifth step, I am looking at you. And for the entirety of that second all the other faces of the room blurred and I swear the history lesson took a pause for the present and there was solely that simple look to be shared. A look I have found to be all too familiar but yet it never comes enough to be able to fully decipher it. It is a look of timid desire. It is a look of fire and ice, of two elements of opposite worlds colliding. It is a look of earth and water. A sly romance which everyone sees but no one knows. Water hits the shore and I am chocolate melting, I am soil eroding. I am the tree's branches bending under the misty wind. I am the earthquake that causes the hurricane, the tsunami. Yet you are calm like the tranquil sea. Your eyes the color of the shallow water on a southern beach just before the break of a gentle wave at shore in the first hour of sunrise. I think of you, and there are butterflies. I look at you, and they rest. We both simultaneously break our glance as I turn to my seat. Oh, how I wish you were sitting next to me.
Continue reading...
23
No doubt. The piece of gum Naughtily stuck under a school desk Instead of thrown in the dustbin They say smoking's a disgusting habit But gum is messy Gets everywhere if you Aren't careful Nicotine gum? The bane of smokers They say it tastes Foul But gum Either way Comes in all varieties Sugarfree I favour Bad for the teeth Otherwise - Raspberry, strawberry, mint, spearmint The never-ending flavours of life On this planet
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Mar 12, 2021
Mar 12, 2021 at 4:47 AM UTC
Chewing Gum
in another life i wear clay beneath my fingernails and linen pants around my hips fastened with a braided leather belt rescued from my mother’s closet one she wore in the eighties when she met my father on the seaside of france i carry flowers from the corner down a gum-stained sidewalk past the park i fell asleep in during one slow sunday afternoon there are cherry red stains on my pillow some from my lips, some not i’ve never been in love but i’ve never felt alone my nose is slender and my collarbones flaunt themselves beneath tanned skin i am someone who drinks ***** and orange juice while watering my plants a longhaired cat licks its paws in the windowsill as i lie naked in the sunlight reading tolstoy and kerouac and obscure poetry introduced by the neighbor in 4F none of it matters i am just like a cloud like a creaking step i share myself only through spearmint breath and coffee dates here are my sweaty palms here are my uneven bangs you will never know me
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Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 11:04 PM UTC
caelum
The only lipstick fit for real woman is The glorious gore-red Of her hearts' blood, Painted with trembling fingers parting Too early, of course, While the parting still pains. For remember, when love is dying Nothing can save it No sunsets, no flowers, no forest walks No quantity of spearmint candy No smiles, no coffee, no cigarettes Even old jokes or magic words Like "remember, the first time we…" Or "do you speak Dutch"; No freesia candles burning No cranberry lemonade, even with love potion Can mend it. No sewing our clothes together murmuring, "Follow me as the thread follows the needle" No wishing, no crying, No phone calls, No desperate words of love, Not even if you both hold your hands Conjuring last spring back; Not even marriage, Not even that. Only your heart's blood can keep The rose alive for a while Over the dark frame While the black-and-white photograph (Pity that flies don't respect it) Fades.
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Nov 28, 2012
Nov 28, 2012 at 1:37 PM UTC
Atque vale
There exists a place you barely remember where all the children go A land of sweets, imagination sculpted landscape of words And every child spends hours there thinking of things never thought before But as we grow inevitably children forget the candy-powder path And that wondrous land is lost in the bittersweet tide of time, pain But some adults, as they blunder though find their way back to that land They sink in the candy cloud meadows, and giggle at the sugar-spun dragonflies But some children as they grow refuse to leave the peppermint forest And others see them thinking, “How strange, the air around them is sweet.” I wander there floating on lady fingers across coffee seas And someday I know you’ll wander back stumble into the gumdrop farm I’ll spy you with my sugar-spy glass and turn black-licorice sails to shore And we’ll chase twizzler deer and marzi-foxes, and play like we used to Until that day, I’ll plan adventures in spearmint fields until the day you Remember Me.
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Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 10:27 PM UTC
Candy Dreams
Spearmint altoids and espresso doubleshot headphones hardly used Palm(seems not 1 for organization) Empty jewel cases strewn over the pine expanse3 monitors burn, an insistent cyclopean glare w/the accompanying mice notebooks' aged paper curled 'round circuit board controller cards and holographic stickers open hard drive aluminum platter white cordless phone 2.4 GHz floppy discs USB milk glass opalescent bag industrial lasagna fork canted sideways tomes beckon Cybershock Snowcrash palpitations PANIC! k_trap trap type 0x000000E flickers attempting to dump 32 years physical memory Failed! User I/O = NULL
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Feb 23, 2010
Feb 23, 2010 at 5:13 PM UTC
Miscellanea
Mulling about The muck The haunts we are hardbound Foggy fetal leavings by the sea Right before the light; The days of purple haze Of sallow street cars, street lamp,  amped up Yet dampened loss of desire Pop another oxy-hydro-fire. To be able To muck about With inner abandon the abandonments deep Numb battlements   / "Hoorah!" Semper Fi the pain Only significant With derivatives From ******* plantations Opioid addiction’s contractually binding Lingering love notes A vice grip on idle minds So many now that prey But with a side affect of Try holding in your **** for three-plus days So as not to feel Not at all Not even the rage We keep anxiously pacing Clawing at Nonexistent strings A Beast inside our cage Forgiven by preacher men Proclaiming to hallelujah Change At war with illusionist Freedom The boys fight for still A country of patriotic pill poppers Believing in heavenly kingdoms' Healing Secret silent pleading Because nothing takes away The pain Like Hydro Oxy foxy pills Self medicate down wind of will If unaffected "consult your physician" He’s at the edge of the stage A Spearmint rhino making it rain For Peaches From patient list of his ******* The business of lust Is feeding the loss of will If you still feel lost -- and war sure did Give them nothing but PTSD & bad dreams Machine gun migraines Pop another pill Jagged little killer Softly knocks you off your feet Black is cheaper Smoke out not to feel The muck-about days of Constipated pains Reader Digesting heavily, Numbingly unreal. Casualty of a nameless waste That’s his deal / what it's like : Most fecund A life on the toilet In wait for relief… Get off the *** Can't give a **** Like this bowel movement His heart has called it quits To all this unholy ******* Veteran Patriot Manhood’s defeat Damnation Mucking about...
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Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 11:02 AM UTC
Constipated (revised)
Mulling about The muck The haunts we are hardbound Foggy fetal leavings by the sea Right before the light; The days of purple haze Of sallow street cars, street lamp,  amped up Yet dampened loss of desire Pop another oxy-hydro-fire. To be able To muck about With inner abandon the abandonments deep Numb battlements   / "Hoorah!" Semper Fi the pain Only significant With derivatives From ******* plantations Opioid addiction’s contractually binding Lingering love notes A vice grip on idle minds So many now that prey But with a side affect of Try holding in your **** for three-plus days So as not to feel Not at all Not even the rage We keep anxiously pacing Clawing at Nonexistent strings A Beast inside our cage Forgiven by preacher men Proclaiming to hallelujah Change At war with illusionist Freedom The boys fight for still A country of patriotic pill poppers Believing in heavenly kingdoms' Healing Secret silent pleading Because nothing takes away The pain Like Hydro Oxy foxy pills Self medicate down wind of will If unaffected "consult your physician" He’s at the edge of the stage A Spearmint rhino making it rain For Peaches From patient list of his ******* The business of lust Is feeding the loss of will If you still feel lost -- and war sure did Give them nothing but PTSD & bad dreams Machine gun migraines Pop another pill Jagged little killer Softly knocks you off your feet Black is cheaper Smoke out not to feel The muck-about days of Constipated pains Reader Digesting heavily, Numbingly unreal. Casualty of a nameless waste That’s his deal / what it's like : Most fecund A life on the toilet In wait for relief… Get off the *** Can't give a **** Like this bowel movement His heart has called it quits To all this unholy ******* Veteran Patriot Manhood’s defeat Damnation Mucking about...
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81
winter fresh spearmint love peppermint patty cinnamon drugs icy fights freezing pain warm nights shall make me sane frosty friends not so true false prophecy coming to you keep open eyes third eye awaken cuz everything they've taken shall be restored in ten fold
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May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 12:10 PM UTC
ten fold
*Stirring the lemon balm and spearmint carpet with naked feet , traipsing the nine a..m. red-tipped grass to the Pileated beat Drenched , rolled pant legs covered in seeds and hitchhikers , emboldened morning rabbits and Apricot skies , Alabama tell tale breezes tilt broom sage on rustic homestead drives* ...
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May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 7:42 PM UTC
Mornings of Sage and Magnolia ..
*Draw hither golden blade , brother to sassafras and veronica Purveyor of delicate , sanguine architects in pastoral visage Of ebony cloth cooling evergreen shadows within -   Rosin incense , spearmint infused morning dew seasoning o'er felled timber escarpments , Summer rain infusions of petit , lavender violet corsage and August whimsy Petrichor , Persimmon Clover bouquets , juvenile , song filled brook-sides , poetic diamond studded sandbars , Chattahoochee Crayfish , Shellcracker , Blue Heron land of Creek and Cherokee fathers Of Towaliga , Bear , Moccasin , Indian streams Emerald swept low country isles , songbird arbors , peridot waterways beside whitewashed shoreline* ...
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Aug 19, 2016
Aug 19, 2016 at 3:29 PM UTC
The Piedmont ...
*They say scent is the closest thing to memory, so it makes sense that I'm caving under whiffs of the past, trying to stand without breaking into* p  i  e  c  e s. *See, you're fire—totally alive and wrapped in spearmint. But he's Korres, totally impressed, sugar-coated with guava and ***** peach.* gd
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Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 1:54 PM UTC
I caught your aroma in the middle of nowhere.
entirely empty except for a few fallen petals from a red tulip... entirely empty except for a wrapper of a piece of spearmint gum I just put in my mouth. Mint usually helps my stomach when it's upset.
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May 12, 2017
May 12, 2017 at 4:09 PM UTC
A Completely Empty Trash Bag,
My best friend Katy, an Okie taught me useful life skills as we walked along train tracks covered in rocks behind the Wrigley's factory In every vent there were clumps of fresh made spearmint gum deposited fresh daily and free, ours for the taking And as we made our way down Mission Street loud, with dust and gravel wafting up as big trucks drove by and a row of ****** bars beckoned to unknown lost souls We'd arrive at 7-11 for a slurpee
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Jul 11, 2012
Jul 11, 2012 at 9:08 PM UTC
Slurpee
The winter was unkind Yet you loved it So much, It was your gauche friend, Reclusive in its blankness, Complicit with its demands for Many layers, As snow is complicit in ****** - Snuggling coldly into Footprints. And I remember the simpering Light That night, As it squeaked into the Room like Lab rats bred for death. I remember the slip Of your body on the sheets And your Speech bubble breath Spearmint ellipses, Your teeth white Your eyeballs white Your watch-face white The witch behind you White, Whispering the content Of her Turkish delight And sculpting you For her museum. (Nothing ever really warmed you up. How I hated that winter.) I put the heating on and Showed you the Wedding dress – An antique affair That had been passed down. My sister did not want it, As she is not at all romantic. When I got back from The bathroom You were out of bed, Holding the dress against yourself, Stuck in the mirror, Head turned, Absolutely lost - A tiny bride White as a Snow tongued branch And just as still, Waiting for the wind Or the clouds Or some kind of joy To move you.
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Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 6:41 PM UTC
white
Jasmine flows in lemon scented tendrils Wafting on breeze in honeysuckle air, Drifting in promise of delicacy hovering Caressing pubescent delights from despair. Delicate flavours of spearmint and juniper Tilt in a torment of honeyed delight, Garlanded avenues sweet and deliciously Titivate nostrils till sensuous night. Amorous airs in the warm summer evening Poignantly poised in the lingering scent, Romantically touching the tremble of senses Released in a sigh of exquisite content. M. 22 August 2015
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Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 12:30 AM UTC
Evening's Delight in a Country Lane
The other day I restocked on peppermint Altoids, when I always buy the spearmint. And I'm not sure why, but thinking about tequila makes me smile. I've been feeling a lot more lately, In quantity over quality. And I haven't been able to place it, but with the passing days the music's become acoustic. Between the coffee and the beers, Father John Misty preaches away my fears. And although I've disagreed with today, I know tomorrow w̶e̶'̶l̶l̶ I'll be okay.
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Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 12:16 AM UTC
Tequila & Father John