"spooning" poems
I don't know since when.
This diet has began
and gone extreme.
There was once
a reasonable aim.
But a new one comes up
whenever the old was
claimed.
Crosses over the weekdays.
Tell me how far I have gone.
But the crosses goes on,
They linger far too long.
I was counting on my calories.
Eating portions from my lunchbox.
No more than
a quarter
I couldn't stop.
I'm sorry.
But I'm not.
Led by starvation
my ultimate downfall.
I was saving all the calories.
For a binge at a time.
Keeping in my desires.
Till it's time to dine.
No my throat is on fire.
It's getting tire and tire.
So I kept eating and
release as
I violently *****
This is all too
disgusting.
dreadful.
disgusted am I.
Nothing have I eaten for breakfast,
lunch, tea and dinner.
Spooning out from my
kiwifruit.
No one could save me.
From my one and only solitude.
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 4:45 PM UTC
When I think of feeling despair for unknown reasons
I know it is time for me to create something
As I think of this, words of a friend come to my mind
As to how she finds comfort in cooking
So I go to the refrigerator and search out ingredients
To make a warm healthy dish for my family
it makes me feel good after washing, cutting
chopping, grinding and sauteing
All the while I take in the aroma of each ingredient
And finally as a whole dish
spooning them for taste testing
and when my nose and tongue
lets me know that is A OK
I find that I am feeling better
Enough to wash the dishes n
wipe down the counter top
Oct 24, 2015
Oct 24, 2015 at 7:28 PM UTC
Shake out your shining tresses, Love
Undress their dark contour as the pink stars rise
And drowse around the smoke-ringed moon,
Like roses in a whiskey glass.
Take time to dream a dream, my Love,
Tresses fallen across the curve of your face --
Sleep away the late summer moon,
Spooning the stars asleep in pink lace.
Lay down your weary bones, my dear,
Stretch out on vanilla feather-winged dreams
My whisky rose petal kisses blown into the night
Finding you on glittered opalescent moonbeams
Grab hold of pink-starred sweet slumber
As silken tendrils puddle upon your chest
Tangled up in each other's lithe limbs
Our blissful hearts beat together in tender rest
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 12:20 PM UTC
She’s cracking eggs.
“What are those?” she asks, pointing to white and red specks in the bowl.
Once I’d have told her it was shell-
but she’s too old for that now
so-
“Where the eggs started to grow”
“Into chickens?”
“Yes”
“Oh” she says, staring intently at a gooey mess in the palm of her hand.
I finish weighing out the ingredients,
wipe her clean-
“Which colour icing do you want?”
She’s carefully spooning cake mix into bright-striped paper cases.
“Can we make angel cakes instead?”
I go into the kitchen to pre-heat the oven,
steal two minutes silence.
Deep breath.
“No. We'd be cutting up perfect little cupcakes to make the wings”
Choked.
I can’t tell her why
I don’t do Angels in December.
Oct 19, 2011
Oct 19, 2011 at 3:55 PM UTC
.
What is a poet to do
when his favourite muse
faints whilst making love,
a victim of passions fuse.
To carry on regardless?
Perhaps slap her lovely cheek?
Mouth 2 mouth no tongue?
Or maybe implore her to speak?
A lesser poet
shakes her anxiously
and writes a verse about prowess and spooning.
A True poet
carries on regardless
and writes a sonnet about his muse and swooning.
© Pagan Paul (23/05/18)
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 2:09 PM UTC
I wanna have ***
I want to make love
I want to be desired
Like a fire is to oxygen
I want someone to want me so badly they can't keep their hands off me
I want to have ***
all night long or til we pass out and then **** some more
I want to **** like there's no tomorrow and our lives depended on it.
I want to taste ***** and feel a woman's thighs wrapping face like a vice grip
I want to kiss and lick her *** and get lost in the moment
I want her to lick and **** me like I was a 3 star michillan resteraunt and she hadn't eaten for days
I want to make love
I want to lay on the couch cuddling in front the tv
Or laying on the bed spooning the whole day away
I want to look into a woman's eyes and see the love and and passion waiting to pounce on me.
I want to have ***
I want to ****
At the park at night or in my car late at night
I want to **** on a hike off the trail where no one can see (but might)
Or some public bathroom where we might get caught.
I want to have ***
I want to use toys, rope and blindfolds, candles and wax
To get as ***** as the moment takes us as we explore our bodies and sexuality
I want to have ***
Dec 8, 2020
Dec 8, 2020 at 4:58 PM UTC
You tried to learn everything you could.
About life, love, religion. The whole deal.
You were convinced that you would be the one to go to if there was ever an apocalypse.
You laughed things off, but you always had a heavy heart.
And when you shared your soul, It was beautiful.
You used to call me in the middle of the night
Pretending to be an old black man from Louisiana
Keeping me up for hours laughing.
I ALWAYS found it creepy to wake up on the couch to you spooning me.
And whenever you just randomly licked me across the face,
I was truly disgusted.
I've never seen someone break a bone before,
But you took it like a champ. And still caught the ball.
Washing dishes.
Late night bike rides.
(You riding Mom's bike, honking that **** horn at EVERYONE)
Sunglass and antique shopping.
Ancient Ways.
Bonfires.
Oreo races.
Sushi trips.
Labyrinth hunting.
Our obsession with graffiti.
And SO much more.
We had such a rocky start.
And we drove eachother crazy.
But you made me feel special.
Important.
You saw things in me that no one, including myself, would've ever noticed.
I will be forever thankful to have gotten the chance
To see what a beautiful person you truly were.
You grew to be more than my friend.
You were my brother.
I Loved you more than you'll ever know.
This stupid poem doesn't do justice to explain just how much you meant to our whole family.
You were a part of it, whether you wanted to be or not.
That's where you ended up,
And I've never been so happy to have a *** sleeping on our couch.
You were one weird ******* kid. But man, I sure loved you♥
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 12:14 PM UTC
Table for one sir, a book my companion for a one-sided conversation
Restaurant conversations buzz around me with intimacies and angst
Pre-movie girlfriends split the bill for a bowl of gelato delightful chat
Spooning in the Italian atmosphere for the price of a McDonalds.
The repro man on my right boasts of dietary prowess to his fat date
On the rack for his gluttony assuaged by the second rack of lamb
Talking at each other I can feel the anguish of ugly gay loneliness
Italian waiters providing comfort in the form of tiramisu temptations.
Life the entertainment on Saturday night alone with ten pages read
A drink talking boy will sleep alone without his now cold girlfriend
Broadcasting life's loves and lies, everyone hears and nobody listens
The opera of living more tragic than Tosca and as brutal as Butterfly.
Rain soaked spirits sink on a trudge home to a lonely king-sized bed
Goodnight loved one Skyped intimacies a warming blanket of comfort
Sleep sweet dreams before the limousine blacked streets of tomorrow
Nearer to honey sweet kisses and close in my love’s warm bed “hello”.
Jan 21, 2012
Jan 21, 2012 at 11:26 AM UTC
Refreshment, in form king size bed
Big fluffy pillows, sink disheveled head
Silken other body touching beside
Night's dreamless comfort, into it did glide
How exist delusion, tranquil pie in sky
Consulting limbs, spooning of thighs
Imprecise discoveries, feeling more at ease
Theories both wound in bed, confidently pleased
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 9:48 AM UTC
The momment I realized
facebook
was a pokedex for people
Was the moment I realized
I don't want to catch them all.
Some pokemon aren't worth the trouble.
Let alone making it double.
Abra for instance,
I understand you like spooning
but if you're going to teleport
every time I throw the Pokeball,
maybe it's best you stay in the cave.
cubone:
Did you ever think maybe,
wearing the skull
of your dead mother
for protection
might mean
you have some serious family baggage?
Pidgey:
I shouldn't have to keep buying repels
to keep you away.
If I stroll through the tall grass
You appear every five minutes
Without realizing I AM IGNORING YOU.
Perhaps you should wait
until I throw another ball.
I'm trying
to catch different pokemon right now
Who fit my team better
Have the Nature I want.
You had your chance
to be in my party
When I fed you that Razz berry
threw the first ball.
Caught you.
then you Evolved
into this big mouthed Golbat
About to swallow me whole.
Trainers.
Stop spending time on toxic pokemon
Poisen types, koffing and wheezing.
Psychic types that play you puppet.
Don't throw the ball to them
Let their grass rustle.
Walk on by
I'm transfering mine in for candies
Catching Shinies
legendaries whom there are only one of in this world.
I stopped trying to catch them all.
I'm searching the high ground
taking time to look at their move set
Running around town with them.
We'll EV train each other,
Get every badge together.
BEAT THE ELITE FOUR
Get knocked down
Go to the pokecenter
Do, do, dodo DO!
Get right back up, together.
Because it's not about catching them all.
It's about healing the ones that you have.
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 11:46 AM UTC
I held out my hands.
I placed a drop of soap on each palm
and took hold of my ***** spoon and washed it with my hands,
cupping and spooning it
like my gentle hands were trying to make it croon.
Like it were mated and flipped and slapped
against threadbare slacks.
That spoon is cleaning me,
is washing my hands as I wash its tarnished feet,
it is forgiving me.
For the scalding soups and bitter ice cream,
and not washing it but watching it grow crusted, disgusted.
And while I swoon for my spoon,
and grinning the spinning dizzy grin of Love,
I remember, and give thanks for my feast.
This spoon feeds me like a child on Mother God’s lap,
and kisses me with life, with food.
This soap, and my hands, and this bubbling love between my spoon and I,
it is clean.
My soul is more clean with my spoon.
Cleaner than dog’s saliva licking at old wounds,
but that’s alright,
cause everybody knows ******* love scars, dog.
And women love beautiful spoons,
maybe because of its viscosity, or its gentle curvature,
or the deep loving laugh it invokes,
when it sits on my nose.
My spoon communion left me with pruned hands,
bright eyes,
and a coy smile for what flowers in my mind may bloom.
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 2:31 AM UTC
There are some pros & cons
of spooning.
Pro #1:
Getting to hold her at night.
Con #1:
Her hair is all in your face.
Pro #2:
You're close to her all night.
Con #2:
You have no place but to lay on one arm.
There are some pros & cons of being the big spoon.
But it doesn't bother you
because you're holding the love of your life.
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 3:41 PM UTC
I'm just smoking my **** &
(spitting facts*2)..nigga..
Aye..(Smoking **** & spitting facts*2..)
/I stay (smoking **** & spitting facts2)../2
Smoking **** & spitting facts..
/Smoking weed*3
&
Spitting Facts*3
I stay (smoking **** *2) & spitting facts
/*2..
Spitting facts..
That's what I stay doing man,Yeah Aye....just
(Smoking **** & Spitting Facts*2)..I stay (smoking **** & spitting facts2)..(Spitting facts2)....& smoking **** up..Yeah man
The real is back , we been here, we never left, we just evolve man, evolve yeah to bring death to all the fake rappers, Yeah ***** I stay (smoking **** & spitting facts2)..(Spitting facts2)..Ayo, I'm on my gangsta **** Ayo I need me a platinum grill, what up DJ Drama. We need to collab, & do a mixtape real quick..,Aye I stay (smoking **** & spitting facts..,*2)..Aye I don't want no drama or any problems homie, I just want to get my cheddar, I roll alot of marijuana Yeah so what man, but I also tell the people what's real Yeah man..
I'm bout to get so many **** bands, so much that I gotta throw some to the fam, Aye.shit, I might throw some to the fans,..Aye man, I'm bout to cause so many problems ***** like Ol ***** Bastard,Aye..I stay (smoking **** & spitting facts*3)..Yeah man..,my ***** turn on the fan, its so much **** smoke up in the air that I'm starting to lose breath, Yeah I smoke awesome,.. I smoke on that dope, that choke,Yeah ***** that potent..while I'm rhyming to improve society not impress it..
Yeah I'm smoking **** & spitting game to the youth man..Let's get it..Aye..
Aye..(Smoking **** & spitting facts*2..)
/I stay (smoking **** & spitting facts2)../2
Smoking **** & spitting facts..
/Smoking weed*3
&
Spitting Facts*3
I stay (smoking **** *2) & spitting facts
/*2..
Spitting facts..
That's what I stay doing man,Yeah Aye....just
(Smoking **** & Spitting Facts*2)..I stay (smoking **** & spitting facts2)..(Spitting facts2) & smoking **** up....Yeah man
Mufuck a opinion, when all I rap about is the truth my nigga,..I be spitting facts, so Talk yo **** be a critic man, Imma be a hustling young ***** Yeah a hard worker, a go getta, a goal digger, A dream chaser..Yeah,
I be spitting facts while these other rappers be spooning each other..Sodom and
Gomorrah type **** ..they fooling the people, but yall dumb ***** don't wanna listen to what's real,..so be it..Imma still rhyme this same way..I know I can Spark the mind up of a future revolutionary leader mane..Yeah....Aye
I'm
(Smoking **** & spitting facts.. Spitting facts, Aye*3)
I'm the best MC in Atlanta since Outcast,.. Yeah the biggest fish, so if the industry trys to hook me, Imma drown their ship..I'm a Outcast of this world no fallen angel..Im my favoritest artist , Young Ston he be going so **** hard, Yo he be (spitting facts*2)..Aye, I'm smoking on a doop, 2 in 1 dawg, King size cone, while I'm writing scriptures..Aye..Yeah..Uhh
(I'm smoking **** & spitting facts*2)
Smoking weed*3
&
Spitting Facts*3
Uhh,..I stay (smoking **** & spitting facts*2)..
Yeah (spitting facts*2)
I'm just smoking my **** &
(spitting facts*2)..nigga
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 1:29 PM UTC
*Dreamy Stars At Night
Spooning Up To Me So Tight
Sparkle Lullabies*
Feb 19, 2018
Feb 19, 2018 at 12:29 AM UTC
Polished off the filler rods
now lifes got me dreaming
soley about the silver lining
the spooning of the woman on the moon
Keep mapping the schematic, the big move
heading straight to the oil soaked cash
Ready again to make the great dash
This time I'll save my dimes
for those unavoidable hard times
I'll pile it under my matress
a secrete stash thats all mine
Work my *** to the bone
by welding up a storm
Sitting all leathered up
on my light weaver throne
To meditate and consentrate
on 13 times the suns bright
Keep the eyes focused and fixate
count to ten when the mechanics frustrate
Troubleshoot the lines of life
fix the issue then
collect the lute.
Dec 18, 2011
Dec 18, 2011 at 6:14 PM UTC
Eyes soft as silk, mirror moon-fire along the silver cusp of my soul,
Enchantment wanders the opalescence of this dream,
Heartbeat to heartbeat it pulses, drifting down soft, as stolen breath
Along the throat in this trembling garden of body....
Whispers of hunger, penetrate soft folds of midnight’s caress upon
Velvet’s pout, a taste of honeyed tease, searing spoon-fed ecstasy,
Brushed new, upon warm whispers,
In the wet of US....
A moist fragrance of sighs, unleashed, capturing blossoms swelling, under moon-spill,
Urgent fingertips dance delicately across shadowed yearn;
Undressed, beguiled, stirred sweet, behind naked eyes,
Where lavender ache beckons....
Satin pleasures unbutton heaven in the breath of swollen whispers, and
The breeze of destiny lays tangled in sheets, touching, teasing
The shores of prismatic submission;
Spooning wet, the wild of embers scorching need, prompting the meld of ***** as
Seduction fuses and passion licks unholy wet, cocooned in silk spill...
His melting shadow arches, quivers the canopy of my offering,
Roller-coasted beneath his lip-ride, where fire bleeds my skin, and I am lathed upon the parched desert of his tongue;
Where crimson visions seep, thrusting, deep the lilac of petals, and
Hungry hands trace the rhythm of trembles,beyond the swallowed screams....
Darkened eyes watch, as I burn the ****** slipped from his tongue;
My trembling, hips glisten, trailing whispers, slowly swallowing hidden breath,
Drowning him in an oasis of silken desire, where dewdrops of my rain trickle from the corners of his smile,
Orchid nectar sliding between two tongues, saturated, tasted beyond the press of lips...................
Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 11:56 AM UTC
at the risk of being weird
I want to ask you to **** me
Even though it is only 5am.
6am comes…and I do not
And you are still asleep
And I would like to be
If my ****** wasn’t aching like an empty stomach
throbbing like a sore tooth.
Spooning is sweet but I want go get out of the cutlery drawer.
It is 7:28 and you have rolled away from me
And I can’t help but wonder if having
Me in your bed is no more than a child holding a bear in his sleep.
But stuffed bears can’t feel insecurity.
The women of your past have been beautiful and immaculate
(I saw the **** picture one sent you before we went to sleep--
instagram filters can't even make me look that good)
like
stone Venuses, lovely despite the fact that they were made from **** foam.
And I am neither immaculate or made of stone
as you well know
since you have put your hand on my stomach so many times.
And I do not want to be needy but I can’t help but think that
The reason you are away from me
asleep at 7:35
Is that the ghosts of these models that haunt you look nothing like me.
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 3:06 PM UTC
Honestly, I lust over every fine woman I see . Oh, that's so hot, right ? Oh, look at that!! But then every time I see these one it's never that and not because she's not fire! Trust it. Even the soul knows she's a bomb. When I see her its no lust at all, its that mami, wifey,warmth we cuddling in my dreams, spooning in combination of making out, and I'm looking at her face and not even believing she's right there my whole universe? And then I wake up and she's not really there and I realise it's that usual nightmare at it again,how cruel? - That normal nightmare at it again -Swoo
May 24, 2023
May 24, 2023 at 4:10 AM UTC
Empress of cacti
Queen of the Night
She is resplendent
A fairie in flight
Glowing... a phosphor
With her inner light
The moon, her companion
They dance in the dark
Wooing and spooning
A'courting a spark
But they'll hearken to morning
Yes... they'll soon part...
They mourn at their parting
Such is their plight.
Her face alabaster
Her fingers so slight
She's proud and she's perfect
Her shoulders pure white
Of noblest bearing
The Queen of the Night.
SøułSurvivør
(C) 3/26/2018
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 8:50 AM UTC
I cannot sleep
if you are not there
I am so used to you
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 1:56 PM UTC
Can you hear the strange noise in my heart? It makes vrruuuum, vrruuuum , vrruuuum every time you nap fondly on my pillow.
My heart is a spy, tic tac by the clock, carrying the breeze in the ball of a thumb, while 's quietly de flowering your dreams, layer by layer.
As if exists a collection of you in the ******* of mankind !
A small brute , the naughty child playing kalasnikov games and puzzlling the answers, the teenager tucking the drums, loud in all radios and smashing pumpkins on nirvanaheads spooning on MDMA flying .
The grown up's ready for work, bored as Peter Pan growing and sometimes funny when life's a ***** I just saw you drinking Madeira wine in public toilets, splashing *** on your toes while dreaming in rainbows of plastic.
I'm the frame of your dream. I'm here to take care of you while you're the squeeze of the petals and the whistle into the sound of the music.
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 7:56 AM UTC
when She's kissing passion into me
grab squeeze those biscuits
when Her body's pressed so tight along mine
grab squeeze those biscuits
when She's riding into ecstasy with me
grab squeeze those biscuits
when She's bending over for whatever reason
grab squeeze those biscuits
when we're hiking/running
and She's just in front of me
grab squeeze those biscuits
when we're standing in line for whatever...
grab squeeze those biscuits
when She's wading in the waves
in THAT bathing suit
grab squeeze those biscuits
when She's lining up a putt in mini golf
that perfect **** in a mini skirt
grab squeeze those biscuits
when She's stepping out of the shower
wrapping Her hair in the swirl of a towel
grab squeeze those biscuits
when you're spooning naked after the swetest hottest ever lovemakig
or waking up
or the middle of night
or whatever hour she nuzzles your neck
grab squeeze those biscuits
when you've been married for fifty years
and you still Love ALL of Her
and She still digs your ****
She'll grab squeeze those biscuits
Jul 26, 2020
Jul 26, 2020 at 7:10 PM UTC
they're nothing alike, but they both rejected you in similar ways and that means that they're more alike than you'd like them to be. parallelism is everywhere and try all you want you can't avoid the syncretism of the universe, the constant assimilation and recreation, the mundane Phoenix, no ashes but still - rebirth. you know if you listen to drake right now, tucked under the covers and spooning the pillow like a lover liable to leave, you will be sad all night, possibly through the morning, bleary-eyed in chemistry and barely aware in rhetoric; you didn't do the assigned reading and haven't started looking at apartment leases yet. my roommate's shoulder is healing and mine is just now beginning to ache; parallelism is everywhere, and try as I might, I can never seem to outrun it.
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 12:41 AM UTC
Quilted silence
And folded sheets which trap memories
It's your warmth for which I long
In daytime: Lovers
In night time: Enemies
in jest
My teeth grinding in my sleep
twitching limbs flailing
Failing to remain sweet
and spooning
I wouldn't change it for the world
I'd chirp cozy
You chant "cramped"
But we both know it's my bed
On which your name is stamped.
It's in my sheets you know me
I miss the warmth
The company.
But, at least without my teeth grinding
At least without you snoring
We get to sleep at last
Memories kept warm in the past, waiting
for us to come home
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 3:58 PM UTC
A kiss takes a moment while hugs keep giving wraparound comfort and room to weep in your sleep when spooning as a means to keep skin to skin tenderness in the state of undress exposing vunerableness sighing long and deep and long and deep with contented peace whispering sweet somethings and never having to release
and to kiss
goodbye.
Jul 13, 2016
Jul 13, 2016 at 2:47 AM UTC