Spicey poems on Hello Poetry

Christi Michaels MoonFlower Nov 2014

~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.

*Just a Little Ditty!*

#**** #intimacy #layers #onion #spicey

Alexandra Eames Sep 2020

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.

#lesbian #love #flirt #sigh #tease #laugh #breast #burning #begging #hips

Wayne Pritchett Nov 2010

Sugar and Spice

im stuck in this reality
that either way i go
nightmares will come to life
worst fears leaving the dark
coming to light in one side
on the other one the happy
heartfelt dreams from years
of courtship come true.
living in this maze
of decisions i could make
leave me sick on a good day
and others pretty blue
cause breaking hearts
never was my thing to do
its happened to me
in the past till recently
now im in the seat
to stop someone's heart beat
a sad proposition
my mission nonetheless
the very thing i hate
smashing a heart
thats in my possession
is now my task to fullfill
believe me theres no thrill
in makin a woman cry
cause the woman she
once aspired to be
my future wifey
is something she wont
witness first hand
dont think for a second
that im a bad man
i just fell twice
the second time left a wound
a bad case of heartburn
that would bring certain doom
from my girl named Spice
girl could shoot some dice
gamblin wit my love
twistin it to seem right
suckin me back in
time and time again
with seduction at a new height
*** therapy like no other
like a poison poppy
lulling me to a stooper
till i get a picture
then mouth gets sweet
cause i remember
the night one November
when my Sugar came to me
that my bestfriend
my homie of all homies
i was sittin in her car
i leaned to the drivers seat
kissed the sweetest lips
both pair believe me
then i smile
from cheek to cheek
she gives me relief
like pepto
but she looks better in blue
shes my little smurf
that turns my heart to goo
the strongest power
a woman can ever hold

now i have sugar and spice
two polar opposites
i stand on the equator
migrating from the later
cause i love hot food
so i slid back like a fool
ended up with a stomach ache
acid reflux and an attitude
something i havent suffered
since i distanced myself
i started feelin brand new
shootin for galaxies
farther than science can see
cause the sky aint the limit
thats what my sugar believes
as she energizes my soul
with sweet bursts of encouragement
Pure Seduction from Vicki's Secret
turned to ultimate attraction
gilroy
her scent makes it happen
my mouth begins to water
strawberries dipped in chocolate
her flavor is what i savor
pleasing her is what i enjoy
thats what i plan for life
we have a mutual understandin
i do me and she do her
but when she in town
or when i come around
our teeth are super sweet
and Sugar is all i can eat
the greatest thing to me
is i can feast with no crash
no indigestion or gas
but ill take the cavities
thats what the dentist is for
having sugar and spice
is far from anything nice
its time to choose
lifetime of loving lust or
eternity of love and trust
no brainer
Sugar is the one for me
cause in the end
she still can get spicey

Marshal Gebbie Jul 2014

A Taste of India

The sanguine shades of India
Flow in mantras through my mind
In hashish tones sienna brown
To ochre greens, I find.
The soaring slopes of massif peak
And roaring waterfall
Lead to tranquil rhododendron glades
Capped in scarlet, I recall.

The clamour of the market place
The grimy squalor found
In the gutters on the roadway
With a constant wall of sound,
In the bartering for spices, red
In wicker baskets wide
With the stench of open sewer
Causing queasiness inside.

Dustiness of sandaled feet
Robes of saffron gold
And the gleaming glow of polished bronze
To purchase, should you hold.
Patterned carpets lay displayed
In jute and woollen blend
Whilst ancient hands on simple loom
Weave more for you to spend.

Ullulation in the air
As turbaned dancers spin
To shrilling ethnic instrument
With drumbeat adding din.
Wild eyed watchers flashing teeth
As rhythms beat the air
Encircled by a chanting crowd
With temperament at flair.

Thronging people fill the lanes
Churning on their way
Interspersed with sacred cow
Meandering to hay.
Children flock with outstretched palm
Surging as they do
Insistently to foreign purse
In urgency that grew.

The sea of dark skinned faces
Mid flashing whites of eyes
An intensity of gaze that takes
You jarringly by surprise
And everywhere the pungency
Of the continent in the air
With the spicey taste of curry
And a chutneyed rice as fare.

But in speaking to the people
I found their manner warm
And their love for caste and custom
And their cricket team was worn
Like a flag around the shoulders,
Like a talisman, so proud,
And their love for home and family
Reiterated, long and loud.

Overhead, the baking heat
Occasionally relieved
By a downpour of monsoonal rain
Must be seen to be believed.
And the total inundation
Of believers on the stair
Of the teeming seeking holiness
In the river Ganges there.

And then as quickly as I came here
It became the time to leave
And the wonders of diversity
Were beyond what I believed.
What was once a frank abhorrence
Grew surreptitiously on me
The splendours of this mystic place
Well deserve their sanctity.

Now far across the oceans
In my safe and sterile land
I am drawn to stare to seaward
To recall my thoughts at hand,
Out across the sprawling delta
Gazing far to sunset sea,
That special taste of India
Flows irrevocably, back to me.

Marshalg
13 July 2014

Madeline Hothem Oct 2020

Hot Mustard

Spicey eat
Mustard chinese
Keep the beat
Cheat the wheat
Meat oh please
Spicey eat
On the street
Slip on knees
Keep the beat
Lets be discreet
As we sneeze
Spicey eat
Move those feet
Lets not freeze
Keep the beat
People freinzie, the stampede
Eat with ease
Spicey eat
Keep the beat

S E L Dec 2013

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

Sophie Nov 2018

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.

#troubled #mind #inhaleexhale

Louise Ruen Nov 2016

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?

The 'background' story and continuation of "The Bambi and the Highway"

#love #fears #tv

Alyssa Gregory Nov 2017

Her Heart is My heart

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

Ann Beaver Jan 2014

Untitled

A note lingers on my tongue
A little on the spicey side
I would know if I could feel it
Solid ice walls
Surround me

— The End —