"spicey" poems - Hello Poetry

~Christi Michaels~12/2014~ ☆⊙☆⊙☆⊙☆ you with an onion in the palm of your hand pulling back layers seeing just who I am removing the papery outer shell the flesh beneath holding slight color tan folding back the next begining to understand sweet juicy onion cradled in the palm of your hand brave to peel the next layer spicey as onions can be a tear begins to form a tear just for me now you are intoxicated as only an onion can do you pull back again translucent flesh coming through sweeter and sweeter I become as you genlty find my core you've settled in found your way what a delectable delicious score ☆⊙☆⊙☆⊙☆ Copyright © 2014 Christi Michaels. All Rights Reserved.

0

Nov 17, 2014

Nov 17, 2014 at 4:37 PM UTC

ChristiMichaels

The Onion Field

~Christi Michaels~12/2014~ ☆⊙☆⊙☆⊙☆ you with an onion in the palm of your hand pulling back layers seeing just who I am removing the papery outer shell the flesh beneath holding slight color tan folding back the next begining to understand sweet juicy onion cradled in the palm of your hand brave to peel the next layer spicey as onions can be a tear begins to form a tear just for me now you are intoxicated as only an onion can do you pull back again translucent flesh coming through sweeter and sweeter I become as you genlty find my core you've settled in found your way what a delectable delicious score ☆⊙☆⊙☆⊙☆ Copyright © 2014 Christi Michaels. All Rights Reserved.

35

...my head back into the pillow. She quickly straddled me. She began a gentle rocking motion with her hips, with subtle glee. Her thick, precious long hair, hung down like curtains of night, around my lust-flushed face, until I was in perfect darkness right. She then began caressing my nakedness with her feathery-locks, along my silky, trembling body, from up my heavenly hips, my tight, tender, heaving tummy, my aching, stiff-nippled ******* my entire being erupting in goosebumps, chilly and blazing, spicey and tasty, aching and burning, burning, burning ****** begging for quenching, which she does quickly and I'm done.

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Sep 28, 2020

Sep 28, 2020 at 9:51 AM UTC

Alexandra-Eames

She pushed

...my head back into the pillow. She quickly straddled me. She began a gentle rocking motion with her hips, with subtle glee. Her thick, precious long hair, hung down like curtains of night, around my lust-flushed face, until I was in perfect darkness right. She then began caressing my nakedness with her feathery-locks, along my silky, trembling body, from up my heavenly hips, my tight, tender, heaving tummy, my aching, stiff-nippled ******* my entire being erupting in goosebumps, chilly and blazing, spicey and tasty, aching and burning, burning, burning ****** begging for quenching, which she does quickly and I'm done.

26

in front of the mirror, she stands and sees them on the wall, tipping along the dust she presses coffee and rinses dishes under hot, soapy water, her eyes on that wall then out the window the sun winks high and the glass talks in telltale signals left by sunken reveries she falls into slumber so deep and intuitive webbing takes over all ahead the old Singer in the corner sits silent and awaits its timely command then, she wakes to find all the silent trappings of caterpillar's welcome and deep in the forest of her serene thoughts, she taps into worlds half lost to Man too little to expect in the moonlit attic of North verdant wedged into half a heart she lowered all the burnt offerings into the soil and gave up one prayer after the other pulling loose the pieces into the loom, turn the wheel and spin a cloak out of suffering all night and all the next day, the spinning proves to be substantial and it grows *the cloak is done, it's so beautiful and on the wall, there it shows the promise of tomorrow she eyes that missive dumped in the wastepaper basket* so many squares overlap in the rainbowed light; the shadows play rapier games on the wall and the night lands refreshing on spicey green and greets the walker hurtling somnabulist takes a dip into cast reflection of unexpected calls and on the wings of nocturnal takings, she travels yet further

0

Dec 30, 2013

Dec 30, 2013 at 8:56 AM UTC

s-e-l

caterpillar

in front of the mirror, she stands and sees them on the wall, tipping along the dust she presses coffee and rinses dishes under hot, soapy water, her eyes on that wall then out the window the sun winks high and the glass talks in telltale signals left by sunken reveries she falls into slumber so deep and intuitive webbing takes over all ahead the old Singer in the corner sits silent and awaits its timely command then, she wakes to find all the silent trappings of caterpillar's welcome and deep in the forest of her serene thoughts, she taps into worlds half lost to Man too little to expect in the moonlit attic of North verdant wedged into half a heart she lowered all the burnt offerings into the soil and gave up one prayer after the other pulling loose the pieces into the loom, turn the wheel and spin a cloak out of suffering all night and all the next day, the spinning proves to be substantial and it grows *the cloak is done, it's so beautiful and on the wall, there it shows the promise of tomorrow she eyes that missive dumped in the wastepaper basket* so many squares overlap in the rainbowed light; the shadows play rapier games on the wall and the night lands refreshing on spicey green and greets the walker hurtling somnabulist takes a dip into cast reflection of unexpected calls and on the wings of nocturnal takings, she travels yet further

20

I don't care if you don't like me Don't try me Dice spicey Chilling nicely Red hot chili peppers Don't try me I don't know if i might be A little crazy Lately But try me I'll cut the king off your kong I know it best, when you are wrong I love the chest, pandora's box. Beg me i pray Trust me you ain't That fly Fly fly the butterfly And you ain't That smooth Smooth smooth Nobody move! It ain't a stick up! But he think he fly Moving around like some butterly He think he smooth True! True! To that you win But i don't care So boo-hu to you too.

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Nov 3, 2018

Nov 3, 2018 at 3:46 PM UTC

ENE_oro25

Boo ya!!

I don't care if you don't like me Don't try me Dice spicey Chilling nicely Red hot chili peppers Don't try me I don't know if i might be A little crazy Lately But try me I'll cut the king off your kong I know it best, when you are wrong I love the chest, pandora's box. Beg me i pray Trust me you ain't That fly Fly fly the butterfly And you ain't That smooth Smooth smooth Nobody move! It ain't a stick up! But he think he fly Moving around like some butterly He think he smooth True! True! To that you win But i don't care So boo-hu to you too.

29

I'm not the greatest at sharing feelings. I like to pretend that I'm well liked, pretty and everyone's friends. I even like to imagine that I in the future there might be a man who I could love, and who might even love me aswell. Then you came, and I got scared. Heart locked up but lips sealed Time for me to search for a bush I could hide under, until my devotion for school forced me to get up and go Which I did only to realize I didn't feel awkward despite it all. But it was a night of mistakes. I told you so. Kept telling you so. You were just the lucky one out of four guys trying the same as you. So I repeated the sentence to you, until I almost started believing it myself. While your beard grew longer, I started distancing myself. But you had put on your running shoes and was ready for a marathon. Wasn't that what I always wanted? You beard would move up and down when you would speak the words than would eventually convince me so. Because you were third time lucky. Despite waking up confused, not because of the wine and the ***** but because I felt like I was leading you on, and I didn't want to repeat the already done mistakes, but at the same time loving and finding comfort in your spicey scent. Even your weird *** breath. No longer able to use alcohol as an excuse to want your lips to find mine. But I was and am rightfully scared. When your hands slide down my skin, my mind turns turns a grainy black and white like an old television. And just like the TV I've slightly stopped functioning. Broadcasting my insecurities and therefore my biggest fear. Your arms wrap around me telling me there's nothing to be frightened off, but I'm my own worst enemy. I guess it reflects just how ****** up I am, and I'm sorry for my never-ending stupidity. Maybe it's all because you really are too good for me. I for sure never understood why you stayed. I still don't understand. What if one day you realize?

0

Nov 8, 2016

Nov 8, 2016 at 2:41 PM UTC

louise-ruen

The Bambi and the TV

I'm not the greatest at sharing feelings. I like to pretend that I'm well liked, pretty and everyone's friends. I even like to imagine that I in the future there might be a man who I could love, and who might even love me aswell. Then you came, and I got scared. Heart locked up but lips sealed Time for me to search for a bush I could hide under, until my devotion for school forced me to get up and go Which I did only to realize I didn't feel awkward despite it all. But it was a night of mistakes. I told you so. Kept telling you so. You were just the lucky one out of four guys trying the same as you. So I repeated the sentence to you, until I almost started believing it myself. While your beard grew longer, I started distancing myself. But you had put on your running shoes and was ready for a marathon. Wasn't that what I always wanted? You beard would move up and down when you would speak the words than would eventually convince me so. Because you were third time lucky. Despite waking up confused, not because of the wine and the ***** but because I felt like I was leading you on, and I didn't want to repeat the already done mistakes, but at the same time loving and finding comfort in your spicey scent. Even your weird *** breath. No longer able to use alcohol as an excuse to want your lips to find mine. But I was and am rightfully scared. When your hands slide down my skin, my mind turns turns a grainy black and white like an old television. And just like the TV I've slightly stopped functioning. Broadcasting my insecurities and therefore my biggest fear. Your arms wrap around me telling me there's nothing to be frightened off, but I'm my own worst enemy. I guess it reflects just how ****** up I am, and I'm sorry for my never-ending stupidity. Maybe it's all because you really are too good for me. I for sure never understood why you stayed. I still don't understand. What if one day you realize?

27

Her heart is sweet. My heart is spicey. Her love is beautiful. My love is ugly. Her smile is dainty. My smile is disgusting. Her heart is my heart

0

Nov 14, 2017

Nov 14, 2017 at 2:08 PM UTC