"spray" poems
Sit back and relax
Feel the waves wash over your back
In the melting sun
Looking at the clouds reflecting all the pinks and blues
Over the blooming hill, echoing white noise of chirps and crickets
Listen to the trickling of the slow water over the smooth rocks
Feel a warm wind brush your face
With your eyes closed
Enjoying the radiating warmth
And the soothing crackling of a log fire
Or sit and admire the shimmering spray
Of a waterfall smoothly crashing into the water of a sky kissed lake
Sunlight dancing through the vapor
Rainbows jumping through every droplet
Listen to the pitter patter of the rain, against a tin roof
Inside a warm cabin
Drifting to sleep
Soon to wake to the song bird's chorus
And the blissful sun
Bask in it
And relax
Jul 8, 2018
Jul 8, 2018 at 8:03 PM UTC
For my cousin, Chris Goldrick
Lacing my skates
after walking two miles
in girl-strictured delight
Mom's stories of Sonja Henie--
No, not ever
Lacing my skates
with snow-ball pompoms
felt skirt
and nylon tights
Cute little hat with matching scarf
My thighs and fingers
already freezing
icy burn
from miles on foot
to get there
the lake where--
I must get out
I must get OUT!
Knowing what
to expect from my body
the quick-twitch of muscle
Could always sense
specific--
gravity of water
at 22 degrees
Desiring to feel
the motion between ice and steel
Read speed's vibrations through my body
The brain registers relation
to weather's effect
Tell of velocity
possibility of fall
Feel the slash of the blades beneath me
Throw my weight sideways, sudden
to hear that furious hiss
An object in motion tending, dire
to stay in motion
Threatening to stay there
always
in its heights-- of speed
away--
from the crowds of skaters
swirling distant in the lights
Seeking instead
the farthest reaches of Porter Lake
speed and speed and more
to overcome
inertia
of what it is to become
undone
at the outer edges, of humanity
A force
centrifugal unto myself
Avoiding
Pregnant and slow
with years and babes....
The best
must be broken and tamed
of what it takes to stay free
catching the edges with every stride
catching my toe in the quick
180
spray of frost
to the sudden still
Listen to the frigid chill
and the heave of my breath
tumbling into evidence
Gliding
Once
Forever--
on, into darkness
of woods on frozen water
The wildness of it all
So infatuated with flight
so full of grace
I forgot Sonja
The moon rose
from her seat in the treetops
and applauded
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 3:54 PM UTC
Thick, warm, fuzzy air
Radiates against your skin, making you want to doze off
You sit on the front of a low red car that looks another era, leaning on the glossy hood.
I want to put your lips on mine
The world feels yellow, and orange.
It's as if clear smoke has filled the air
My eyes are dimmed through thick sunglasses, my body absorbing the warmth through jeans and a small black shirt
I'm in a lucid daze
Looking at you through a curtain of leather black hair, not bothered to move it from my face.
Your eyes the crisp refreshing blue in a world tinted amber
Like a fresh spray of water on my back
After hours of sunbathing
We sit there
We say nothing
We take in the sun
We don't need anything else
May 12, 2018
May 12, 2018 at 6:04 PM UTC
Summer heat summer sweet
With a wealthy nature, rich pheromones erupt
Birds n tha bees escape the trees
Please don't plant your seeds
But throw the leaves
Up n up
To get down and drop
Where the dirt pops
Ken keseys ashes
Edible umbrellas turn rainy days on their head spinning pupils wide void of discontentment
Fairies fly off clouds and stars fall at day
Impossible, feelings are blown in and out of proportion to fit a screen thats too small
Tough love
Tough life
Slick surface don't let me fall off the boat as it rocks
Swisher wraps over the curves
Got me feelin lucky like a charm
Cheef all day got me smellin dank as a Rastafarian Only stoppin to sip my Captain Morgans moonshine
Till we hit the caribbean
Then Jack's got me headin for tides end
Early
Flush the bile outta your system
And spiral out of controls iron hand
**** responsibility, Apathy rules all.
Paper crane ******* get all superficial but yellow bones make my brain go fuzzy in smokey ***
In n out, fast n slow
Nicotine dominates
My senses are lost at Molly
That ***** finger ****** my life
Made me *** every time
This unhealthy relation in action doesn't phase me yet, I'm too young to think that far
I mean
What do you expect?
A Teens crowded perceptions can be judged like a bums intentions.
Peace my brotha
Dandy danny says theres a way out
-side with the rap culture
Shots of rebellion pour through the cracks we each fill
The glass
Is too cracked to be see-through
West coast vibes kick back lax attitude I carry on my shoulders
Forever green is my state
Wash that **** off your lawn crack *** haters I'll spray paint your ***
Equality's the goal
**** race
**** sexuality
I see soul
Open up
Show me your beat
I'll count bars as we spit elicited slurs drizzled to drops leaving the cops to stop us
Quit
Obeyin the brand
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 5:05 AM UTC
Searching my heart for its true sorrow,
This is the thing I find to be:
That I am weary of words and people,
Sick of the city, wanting the sea;
Wanting the sticky, salty sweetness
Of the strong wind and shattered spray;
Wanting the loud sound and the soft sound
Of the big surf that breaks all day.
Always before about my dooryard,
Marking the reach of the winter sea,
Rooted in sand and dragging drift-wood,
Straggled the purple wild sweet-pea;
Always I climbed the wave at morning,
Shook the sand from my shoes at night,
That now am caught beneath great buildings,
Stricken with noise, confused with light.
If I could hear the green piles groaning
Under the windy wooden piers,
See once again the bobbing barrels,
And the black sticks that fence the weirs,
If I could see the weedy mussels
Crusting the wrecked and rotting hulls,
Hear once again the hungry crying
Overhead, of the wheeling gulls,
Feel once again the shanty straining
Under the turning of the tide,
Fear once again the rising freshet,
Dread the bell in the fog outside,—
I should be happy,—that was happy
All day long on the coast of Maine!
I have a need to hold and handle
Shells and anchors and ships again!
I should be happy, that am happy
Never at all since I came here.
I am too long away from water.
I have a need of water near.
31.5k
Listening to the waves pound into the shores, while I pound into you. listening to the waves spray against the sands, while you spray against me. Listening to the tides come in, while I *** inside of you.
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 9:00 PM UTC
*If these walls could speak,
They'd tell you all about Art;
Whispers from spray cans.*
- (A.F)
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 3:40 AM UTC
I could love you
as dry roots love rain.
I could hold you
as branches in the wind
brandish petals.
Forgive me for speaking so soon.
Let your heart look
on white sea spray
and be lonely.
Love is a fool star.
You and a ring of stars
may mention my name
and then forget me.
Love is a fool star.
19.1k
” she is quick to object"
Mumbai, to receive the accolade of “Role Player
Attempt to hit back at their perceived “bully.”
They don’t fall a little; they crash into muck...
submission,
hopelessness,
impunity,
corruption,
hypocrisy,
law and family ...
to ***** you since they’re not saints,
they are neither saints nor priests,
There’s a new order coming from mayor.
We won t **** you all ....
We will just shoot the ****** that —
if there is no ****** it would be useless.
she is quick to object".
Fighting sexism and misogyny,
nonetheless open and willing to listen,
wear bug spray going forward,
“inform the court that we did this”
“didn’t like that.”
,” she is quick to object".
Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 10:06 AM UTC
My dog has died.
I buried him in the garden
next to a rusted old machine.
Some day I'll join him right there,
but now he's gone with his shaggy coat,
his bad manners and his cold nose,
and I, the materialist, who never believed
in any promised heaven in the sky
for any human being,
I believe in a heaven I'll never enter.
Yes, I believe in a heaven for all dogdom
where my dog waits for my arrival
waving his fan-like tail in friendship.
Ai, I'll not speak of sadness here on earth,
of having lost a companion
who was never servile.
His friendship for me, like that of a porcupine
withholding its authority,
was the friendship of a star, aloof,
with no more intimacy than was called for,
with no exaggerations:
he never climbed all over my clothes
filling me full of his hair or his mange,
he never rubbed up against my knee
like other dogs obsessed with ***
No, my dog used to gaze at me,
paying me the attention I need,
the attention required
to make a vain person like me understand
that, being a dog, he was wasting time,
but, with those eyes so much purer than mine,
he'd keep on gazing at me
with a look that reserved for me alone
all his sweet and shaggy life,
always near me, never troubling me,
and asking nothing.
Ai, how many times have I envied his tail
as we walked together on the shores of the sea
in the lonely winter of Isla Negra
where the wintering birds filled the sky
and my hairy dog was jumping about
full of the voltage of the sea's movement:
my wandering dog, sniffing away
with his golden tail held high,
face to face with the ocean's spray.
Joyful, joyful, joyful,
as only dogs know how to be happy
with only the autonomy
of their shameless spirit.
There are no good-byes for my dog who has died,
and we don't now and never did lie to each other.
So now he's gone and I buried him,
and that's all there is to it.
17.7k
“If you could be anywhere in the world
At this exact moment,
Where would you choose to be?”
I choose the easternmost point
Of Acadia Maine at sunrise.
Cold, salty ocean spray in my face,
Warm thermos of cocoa in my hands
And the promise of a new day
Being made right before my very eyes.
What could be more reassuring?
What could be more solidifying?
To know that no matter
What happened in the days or weeks
Or months or years or decades
Before,
Today, right now, at this exact moment,
It is all behind you,
It is all in your past.
And that sunrise you’re watching
Over cresting crashing white topped waves
In the cool breeze of morning
With the scent of dirt and earth and trees
Carried on the wind that also brings
The call of the morning dove and thrush
And Phoebe-bird,
Is the promise you’ve been waiting for.
The promise that you’re gonna be okay
Because today, today is a new day.
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 11:18 PM UTC
she is outspoken and bold
bold like the sun
bolder than an army of boulders
falling from a hillside
she is an avalanche
when there is nowhere left to run
she is despised by some
and others wish to fill her
with some old fashioned whisky
i am sanctified by her ways
and returned to my former glory
as this poem has tasted far better days
she is a morning glory
her eyes are like the petals of a flower
she is the Wordsworth of the decade
a wordsmith dancing in her own decay
i am essentially a target
a lost projectile in the arrow's path
she has coaxed me back to sanity
with her sardonic gestures
and her sarcastic use of wit
i am a nitwit she said
so i laugh and pick the flowers from her hair
slowly and soporifically
i am seaweed adrift in her bonnet
sandpaper scattered along the shoreline
remove the blind spectacles
and eat the lines i’ve written
a poem is just a candle anyway
to spray the eyes of infinity with lightning
mars is retrograde regardless
so i’ll just sit here and pretend
that i’m not too much of a target for her beauty
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 3:05 PM UTC
**i'm in a dangerous state of mind
with no care for living this life
where human emotions are traded
for less than a pack of rubbers
but you didn't even use those
so how much did i truly mean
when the push came to shove
and grinding hips
with moaning lips
that whispered, screamed,
and cried his name
on the night you ****** my heart away
where loyalty takes a literal backseat
to pleasure
and a long term relationship
is laughing stock material
ha ha standup, ain't i funny
to look for something more than this
but i would choke on my own tongue
before i'd speak bad of you
my backstabbing lover
unfaithful friend
i hope to god it he was worth it
the cost was more than just tears
but blood spray on the bathroom mirror
and an empty place where i once
used to love
permanently empty
i can't find the will to care
more than a few half-hearted,
correct that, heartless
obscenities muttered under my breath
with ****** on my mind
a 3:30am fantasy to help dull
the pain that i should be feeling
maybe i'm just a pessimist,
fatalist, cynical, and negative
but my lack of surprise cuts the most
lied to by my mind for those
two months of my life
that i thought i had it all
better to have loved and lost
but even better to **** it all
and just go out with your name on my lips
and your lies in my heart
i hope you think of me when you're with him
that you choke on your tears
plagued with the worst emotions and loss
a better killer than any gun**
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 9:48 PM UTC
~
where clear blue sky meets water's deep
his sunbeams reach her waves to tease,
to warm her currents, foaming spray;
dawn to dusk when daylight fades,
till only afterglow remains,
an interlude of celestial stage.
he speaks to her on written sky
and in the mournful sea-bird's cry,
wraps sultry ribbons in her tresses,
his fingers linger in caresses,
and in soothing choreography
he gently stirs her ocean's breeze.
he sends her gifts of palm and dates,
wrapped on waves in salty sprays;
watches her with much delight,
he sings to her each eventide,
love songs with the calling gull,
and rocks her tween the gusts and lulls.
wedded at horizon’s edge,
devotion to her he has pledged,
to have forever and to hold,
his comfort to her storm-tossed soul;
his tender kiss on tear-stained cheek,
where clear blue sky meets water's deep.
~
*post script.
when one gazes
into the vastness
of sea and sky,
of what is from
height to depth
an endless blue,
one cannot but think
of eternal devotion,
of the relationship
between two who have
pledged their forever troth!*
*as i wonder from what recesses
this one came, i remember…
our 36th wedding anniversary
is fast approaching...
i’ve been thinking of what to gift her
that will make her cry anew.*
**thank you to Hello Poetry for
the tremendous honor bestowed
with their designation of this poem as the daily
and to all who have expressed their heartfelt
love and appreciation... your message
came through loud and clear...
there can be no denying it,
i am an incredibly blessed man
because of each of you!
thank you, truly,
from the bottom of my heart!**
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 4:41 PM UTC
****
isn't always dark alleys
and whistles
and pepper spray.
It isn't always
a stranger,
they don't always
look dangerous.
Whether it is
your boyfriend
or your teacher
or your uncle,
they are no longer on your side.
This is your attacker.
Do not be silent.
Do not be afraid to make a scene.
Whether it is a movie theatre
or a street corner
or your bedroom,
yell,
scream,
curse,
bite,
spit,
let no resonate from your lungs
so they cannot say they didn't hear you.
Send him home,
tell your parents,
tell your friends,
tell the police.
****
is not always
drunk men outside bars
or keys clenched between white knuckles.
Sometimes **** is silent.
Do not be silenced.
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 2:08 PM UTC
Thinking, tangling shadows in the deep solitude.
You are far away too, oh farther than anyone.
Thinking, freeing birds, dissolving images,
burying lamps.
Belfry of fogs, how far away, up there!
Stifling laments, milling shadowy hopes,
taciturn miller,
night falls on you face downward, far from the city.
Your presence is foreign, as strange to me as a thing.
I think, I explore great tracts of my life before you.
My life before anyone, my harsh life.
The shout facing the sea, among the rocks,
running free, mad, in the sea-spray.
The sad rage, the shout, the solitude of the sea.
Headlong, violent, stretched towards the sky.
You, woman, what were you there, what ray, what vane
of that immense fan? You were as far as you are now.
Fire in the forest! Burn in blue crosses.
Burn, burn, flame up, sparkle in trees of light.
It collapses, crackling. Fire. Fire.
And my soul dances, seared with curls of fire.
Who calls? What silence peopled with echoes?
Hour of nostalgia, hour of happiness, hour of solitude.
Hour that is mine from among them all!
Megaphone in which the wind passes singing.
Such a passion of weeping tied to my body.
Shaking of all the roots,
attack of all the waves!
My soul wandered, happy, sad, unending.
Thinking, burying lamps in the deep solitude.
Who are you, who are you?
14.4k
up early to water
the garden
the cicadas are
already drilling holes
into the
leaden stillness
everywhere
leaves are drooping
I spray the shrubs
to wash off the dust
birds fly in to sit
on the dripping branches
begging for a shower
a cardinal flutters
its wings and sings
and I oblige
jewel-like droplets splash
through the slanting light
everywhere
the world is ablaze
heat waves wild fires
everywhere anger
everywhere distraction
suspicion
leaders are faint-hearted
the wicked fan the flames
still my garden needs water
still the cardinal
flutters its wet wings
and sings
here here water here
here here water here
Tom Spencer © 2018
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 1:41 PM UTC
Back & forth the waves roll in
Challenging the beach
The foaming surf offers up a dream
That so far is out of reach
I wish I could live among the waves
Like the seal that I've just seen
Without a care for what comes next
Or for what has ever been
To swim among gigantic whales
Majestic in their song
Content with life - to carry on
Knowing they belong
To fly up high above the swell
Like the seagulls do
Playing in the clouds of spray
They all know the truth
Happiness is a gift
That we can not take for granted
In the profoundness of the ocean
Seeds of hope will now be planted
Back & forth the waves roll in
Their cycle never ends
My life continues to evolve
The sea will help me mend
(C) Pixievic 2016
Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 12:34 PM UTC
Her scent was ambrosia on his lips,
swimming within oceans
hearing the waters calling.
Waves gently lapped upon features.
As the ripples settled, he could taste
the essence of her, drowning in pleasure.
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 3:28 PM UTC
Dye the ***** water with contaminates:
Blue #1,
and Sucralose, too.
Bend over to spray
the rotting road-kill with perfume.
Perfect the recipe
for what was fleshed and fruited
from animals and plants.
Photoshop the starved and diseased
with smiles
and beautiful bodies.
Clothe the *****
with lingerie, with heels,
and with stones.
Paint the roses red.
We paint the white roses red.
We’re painting the white roses red!
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 3:29 PM UTC
I think the scent of bug spray on my palms will now forever remind me of you and the late night (early morning) we spent sitting in your car, drawing awfully unskillful portraits on the back of each other’s hands in
dim light and 3 a.m. stillness. (I wonder if you could tell that doodling on your skin was just an excuse to touch you.) I wanted so badly to let my fingers find yours
as we laid back in our seats
and peeked out the rolled down
windows at the infinite stars scattered above us in the
early August night sky. I told you I wouldn’t kiss you,
because I know my heart and
how relentlessly it would
replay how your lips felt on mine, and how it would ache knowing
you couldn’t be mine,
so I let you kiss my cheek instead,
and the half a moment that I felt
your unshaven face brush mine in the middle of the street at five in the morning feels like a fake memory. When you looked at me, I wanted to hide, because I was too afraid to read what words might’ve been written in your eyes, but I felt so content listening to the
deep tone of your voice
mix with the obnoxiously loud crickets singing in the trees
surrounding us. I could’ve sat there with you till the stars disappeared and the sun took their place, but you walked me back home, and you left in the dark, and now I’m sitting in my bed thinking about how the hours between 2 and 5 a.m. have never felt so full.
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 10:50 AM UTC
I get accused of a lot of things at first glance
"You're simplistic, you're hiding something
You have no convictions, you don't think deeply"
Usually by those who I consider to be on intellectual crutches
If you're gonna come up to talk to me from a religious context
from a spiritual context
from a hierarchical, metaphysical, eat this **** popsicle mindset
Don't expect me to swallow
Don't expect me to talk
You won't like what I have to say
Because really you just want me to agree with you
If you want me to respect your framework
When you have nothing but the claims of quacks
and the feelings you gleaned from your last psychedelic trip
to back you up
While I have to sit back and listen to how I'm close minded
Close minded for wanting some real truth in this universe
unfiltered, raw, verifiable, and in my hand
and that anything other than that is a spray paint over
my true awakening
Then I guess I'll just have to be that *******
to die for these intellectual sins
The Eldest Son of Matt, hater of pretense
Hypocrite to the highest level
Build me up into a figure of idolatry
Just like you do with the rest of your ego cases
Priests, Gurus, Rabbis, Rockstars, Poet sensations
Tell me how wonderful it is to listen to them
Tell me how I should be more in touch with a tree
Tell me how I don't dream
When all my life is but that
Tell me how I'm not deep when you make no attempt to learn
Who I am, and where I have come from
Misinterpret my teachings, and claim me to feel
As if I was the newest son of god
When all I want is for people to get beyond blinders
and love each other, and to get beyond the metaphysical rat race
Tell me that I'm supposed to live and let live
While you jam your beliefs down my throat
and expect me to respect getting philosophically tea bagged
Tied up to the crucifix
and asking me to repent for my search for truth
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 1:02 PM UTC
A graceful water weaving dolphin
swirls wakes of gentle waves -
a white, silver blue phantom
shimmering in the noonday sun.
Piercing the surface,
she dances an aquatic ballet
of corkscrew pirouettes
and majestic somersaults.
Diving beneath the spray
she churns her engine upward -
soaring through the flaming hoop
to the "oohs" and applause
of a throng of short-sleeved hominids
bleachered beyond the rails.
Plunging into quiet depths,
she lingers for a moment
perhaps to recall the fresh sea air
and the borderless waters
in the golden days before the ships came.
January, 2007
Aug 4, 2013
Aug 4, 2013 at 10:52 PM UTC
Hidden behind my desires.
Fantasies of ecstasy
frustrating me.
My body tempting me sensually.
Sexuality turning on me,
arousing my entity.
My fingers betraying me, ****** my body eagerly.
Probing between my legs relentlessly,
consuming my whole body; selfishly.
Weakening my flesh; this tantalizing energy
claiming the deepest depths of my *****
Scandalous imagery, mentally ravaging me,
seducing me, teasing my lips,
guiding my fingertips effortlessly,
long fingers dip, disappearing;
deep inside of me.
My ***** tightens, the feelings heighten.
Warm liquids drip, stone hard ****
pulling and rubbing it.
Wrist twist,palm grinding against my *****
legs clasp, my insides amass giving way,
As I spray, my exhausted body collapses.
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 10:26 PM UTC
It smells like first love
Says the perfume bottle
Smells like true love
Says the bath bomb
What does first love smell like?
First love smells like rain
The heavy scent of the air
Before a thunderstorm
True love smells like cookies
Baking in the background
And a rich *** of coffee
Brewing from fresh beans
And of cinnamon in hot chocolate
And lavender, like my lotion
And spice, like his deodorant
First love smells lightly of sweat
Because you're nervous
True love smells like tears
Because it's never a dry-eyed affair
It smells like the flowers
Of the wedding bouquet
And the crimson and white
Christmas flower display
First love smells like body spray
Slathered on to hide the sweat
True love smells natural
Bad breath in the morning
And yet fine
Because it's theirs.
First love turns to sweet summers' air
Vanished with August's last week
True love kisses the scents
Both foul and fair
That break upon my cheek.
Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 11:48 PM UTC