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Poetry In Motion: Strawberry Lemonade [Final Version/Re-Edit]

Pre Chrous:
Strawberry lemonade mix of us,
You can be yourself
I can be myself
Strawberry lemonade
I want to chill with you,
Acknowledge your self worth
Strawberry lemonade of your self love maintain your self care
Strawberry lemonade befriend your self-esteem
Strawberry lemonade be you, do you
Ignore what society says
Strawberry lemonade

Chrous:
Strawberry lemonade I want to chill with you,
I can be myself with you,
Strawberry lemonade you can chill with me,
You can be yourself with me
Come chill with me, you can be yourself I can be myself
Strawberry lemonade come chill come thru
I can be myself with and you can be yourself with me
Strawberry lemonade get chilled with you

Chrous:
Strawberry lemonade
Chill with you
Strawberry lemonade
Chill with me
Strawberry lemonade
You can be yourself I can be myself
Come chill come Thru
you can be yourself I can be myself with you,
Strawberry lemonade mix of us
Be ourselves

Bridge:
You free to be yourself with me
I free to be myself with you
Free to be yourself free to be myself
Mix of strawberry lemonade
We free to be ourselves

Strawberry lemonade,
You can be yourself I can be myself
Strawberry lemonade,
You can be yourself I can be myself
Strawberry lemonade,
You can be yourself I can be myself
Strawberry lemonade,
Be yourself with me I be myself with you

Outro:
Strawberry lemonade forget what society says,
You can be yourself I can be myself
Strawberry lemonade,
Strawberry lemonade,
I want to get chilled with you,
You can be yourself I can be myself
We can love ourselves
Strawberry lemonade
kakashi's wife Feb 2017
dear Jackson,
i saw you again today
with her.
i was going to talk to you until she pulled you into a kiss
and so i left it to another day


dear Jackson,
i saw you again with her
but this time she was looking away
and you looking at her, and i wondered
what were you thinking about?


dear Jackson,
she wasnt with you today
so i sat next to you and you told me
you had an argument with her
so i gave my condolences and you said not to worry


dear Jackson,
you were by yourself again today but came to me
you seemed really down and so i offered you strawberry milk
you smiled, and thanked me
i know she hates strawberry milk


dear Jackson,
you were with her again today
smiling this time and laughing
she had a banana milk in her hand as did you
and so i left


dear Jackson,
i didnt see you today
i wondered where you were
as i sat on the bench
drinking my strawberry milk


dear Jackson,
she was screaming at you today and you screamed back
she stormed off leaving you alone
as you sat with head in your hands
and i drank my strawberry milk


dear Jackson,
i gave you another strawberry milk
and you thanked me with a small grin
and we sat there drinking
and enjoying eachothers company


dear Jackson,
you should smile more
it really suits you
its just a shame that today
you smiled because of her


dear Jackson,
there was a strawberry milk in your locker
and she said it was from her
and you accepted it and kissed her
forgetting she hated strawberry milk


dear Jackson,
its been 5 months since weve spoken
and i sit here every day wishing
and drinking my strawberry milk
as you smile together
i was going to talk to you,
but whats the point.
inspired by milk and love
nish Aug 2018
when i was young
ammi packed me lunch
one strawberry jam sandwich
cut neatly into squares

as i grew older
and my tummy much bigger
(along with my appetite)
one turned into two
two to three
and finally
for some unknown reason
there were no strawberry jam sandwiches
but ammi still packed me lunch

it was tuna or chicken
maybe tomato and cheese
sometimes a pastry
i wasn't hard to please

and it never occurred to me
that my strawberry sandwiches
were gone

till one completely random day
i'm sitting with my friends
taking the first bite of my sandwich
a burst of strawberry fills my mouth
sweet, rich with sugar
it tastes red, good bright red
my strawberry jam sandwich came back
and i was bombarded by my childhood
playing on the swings sandwich in hand
red coated crumbs dotting my shirt
running out of class as soon as the bell rings
to munch munch munch
on my strawberry sandwiches

strawberry jam was never my favourite filling
but it filled me with memories
so occasionlly
when i'm feeling nostalgic
i'll pick up a slice, butter it up
spread my gooey, red friend
and share a sandwich with ammi.
I think that culture plays a huge part in any sort of creative work, in this case I decided not to use 'mom/mum' but 'ammi' which means mother in my language.
Something I remembered and wanted to share because I was eating strawberry jam with crackers just now.
Hope you enjoyed :)

'ammi' pronounced 'uhmmi'
Kewayne Wadley Feb 2017
In the sole purpose of love.
I confused a strawberry for that of a heart.
I didn't at all feel ashamed. Sharing a divine pleasure.
I allowed myself to confess everything my heart felt with this strawberry.
A fruit practical. Knowing all of life's mystery.
Plump in the way it stared.
An everyday conversation turned into something precious.
My hand becoming like a stem.
The strawberry now confusing me for one of it's own.
Sharing the same subtle silence.
Relaxed in the freedom that mistakes can and will occur but something
extraordinary can happen.
Introducing ourselves to a different us.
More tolerable.
Enjoying the gift of each others company.
Sincere in a moment of sensitivity.
Both of our cheeks blushed in red.
Sharing a deep thought that traveled it's way into purpose.
A seed ripe in the way it gushed into deep infatuation.
A mouth in need, the will to quench arising urge.
Communication in purest form.
The vine that ensues nourishment from soil colored hands.
Cleansed in warmth, devoured whole
Robin Carretti Dec 2016
Mean but resisting
Love stronger possessing
His charm I was Divinely
touched by his spirit

I want it so easy to flaunt it
"Both Suited" Black tie affair
Smoking out the joint

What a dangerous pair
Darker than any smoke
What's the point??
Going to blow devil words
Angelic Paradise birds

Do we have this planned out,
what do we see? He's not suited
Cruel 2-B ****** life is dark
but **** good easily taken
Fruit of the soul mistaken sliced
and  parted

Paint's it Graffiti hood
Careless ****** up to him
Reckless my lips played
him hard

Smoked killed me off-guard
He sneaked around the fruit
Strawberry strange pursuit
My soul this is the last straw
Deadly strawberries beguiled
by the??

Strawberry smells of the
black rose
All covered seductively posed
The song plays out strawberry
With solitude voiced by
Soprano wine by the bucket
of deep red "Gallo"

Intense smoking love incense
Smoking jacket cuddled me
cello
Strawberry sounds smothered
Good night dark strawberry moon
I grabbed him way too soon
Strawberry Jones Dec 2012
I walked in
all young and awkward and kindred spirit-less
with a name tag that read
in black marker with my bad penmanship
that only comes on your first day of a new place.

I walked in
and a nameless face greeted me
strange as he was
and asked if my name was Strawberry.
"It sure looks like it, doesn't it?"
I replied courteously.
And so they called me that.

I walked in
months later
to my first weekend with people like me.
and I liked it.
and they all called me Strawberry.

I walked in
on several different occasions
and I grew into my name
as a plant will grow to whatever container
you put it in.
and so people loved me.

I walked in
with an air of summer
an air of sweetness and bitterness and
****
but they still loved me
even more.

I don't know what I will do
when I walk in
my first day as an adult
and they ask me what my name is.
I could tell them "Strawberry,"
but they would laugh.

Adults do not understand
the sweetness and the bitterness
the ****
as only kindred spirits can.
Alanis Moore Jul 2011
i took my first love down to strawberry hill,
the only place i knew how to be free,
only kids were we,
i kissed her and she kissed me
right there among the strawberries,
but when i asked how long we would be
she said nothing to me
two days later she left me,
and the strawberries beneath my feet
lay cold in the breeze

15 my heart was afluttering,
and i took my love down to violet hill
there we sat in the summer heat,
i asked just how long we would be,
she sat as silent as a tree
three days later she let me go,
and i sat staring at the dead berries
that lay buried in front of me



23 i thought i had found she,
the girl who would always love me,
but i got down on my knees
and she said no to me,
i didn't say anything,
just watched the strawberries beside me
wither and bleed, no longer living

when you came to me
the strawberry hill no longer
carried its name,
my heart beseeched me
to revisit once in my lonely life,
i told you my story of the strawberry hill
and the heartbreak that had happened here,
you sat the, silent still, and once done
you said to me,
"darling this hill belongs to we,
i shall not leave you until life lets me sleep,
and even then this hill is where you will find me"

now i stand on strawberry hill,
life breathed back by your love,
you lay beneath your strawberries,
waiting to greet me
a remake of an old poem that was my best. this is really just **** compared to it
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
Those shortcakes tallest skyrocket
His pocket, a poem mountain
top setting words whip cream
Him and her fountain sunset love
Above all "Strawberry pie" dream
The oven overloved to trust
Or underbaked the pie crust

One bite the skywriting
Told her I love you
My strawberry eye patch
Powdery her lips "Smuckers" rich
Her strawberry sky velvet sigh
Strawberry field forever lake
Her cheeks like a piece of cake
The Prom with Tom what a Sawyer
The true love strawberry buyer
This is one of my shorter poem Strawberry shortcake cream on top how many times I sang this song I hope you will come to my Strawberry showing it's my strawberry love fountain of youth
Anastasia Jan 30
Take a sip
Strawberry syrup
Sweet and soft
But never enough
Strawberry sweetness
Smooth in your mouth
Tangy but not sour
Covering the dollhouse
Strawberry syrup
Dripping from your lips
Red
On your fingertips
Staining the lace
On your pretty white dress
Strawberry syrup
Making a mess
Can’t see through the syrupy haze
Covering my eyes in a strawberry glaze
Donna Jun 2018
Once upon time
there was a shampoo bottle
called Miss Strawberry

All day long she sat
on edge of bath just staring
at washed out tiles

Then one day when she
woke up she notice a white
bottle of shampoo

Hi there strawberry
I'm a conditioner , my
name is Coconut

Together they laughed
and made bubbles and even
had fun foam parties

They both loved water
Sometimes there slide down plug hole
Into a tunnel

Then they went splish splash
into the drain , but really
it's a water park

full of slides and fun
tunnels , lots of drain people
lived down there too , there

was a shaver called
Razors , he was like a dog
And barked all day long!!

And lots of hair dudes
and hair women , they carried
a net to catch hair

to make more hairy
people , they all supervised
the fun water park

Strawberry blew fun
bubbles whilst coconut made chilled out smoothie drinks

When the day came to
an end , strawberry went to sleep
feeling neatly sweet

And as for Mr
Coconut he hula danced
and sang lovely songs

to cheer up Edith
the tap , who cried every night
But by morning light

her tears had dried up :-))
I was inspired with little story I cleaned bathroom today and my imagination had fun and I just let it all go and it was fun x ;, hope u all well and thank u to those who sent me lovely messages I so appreciate very much <3
It's hard to stay away from hp as I love to write but this one got the better of me as it was fun fun fun  , have  lovely weekend all <3 x
Amanda Goodness Jun 2013
When I was eight I got very sick.
I got to eat mac n cheese on the couch,
and drink chocolate chip milkshakes.
Today I felt sick.
So I made some mac n cheese,
and I sat down on the couch.
I wanted the milkshake.
I didn't have any chocolate chip ice cream,
So I made strawberry.
Then I sat at the counter and looked at my mess.
The milk was out,
The ice cream was uncovered and melting
The blender was on its side.
It looked very sad.
Like it was a Roman village I had just conquered.
I killed all the strawberry milkshake children.
They had such bright futures until they drowned
In a puddle of one percent milk.
I discovered I don't like strawberry milkshakes that much.
And now I have a mess in the kitchen,
My car needs gas,
And I smell like cigarettes and self deprivation.
And everything is easier when you're eight and your mother cooks you your special sick person dinner.
A Tale of Two
Her Story>>>>
Today was my free day and I longed for some soothing nature time. I had my picnic basket with some food and wine. I wanted to enjoy my afternoon alone. I was just standing there, waiting for the cars to pass me so I could cross the street to the park. He walked by me and the wind blew his scent right to me. He smelled like heaven on earth.
I am very familiar with many scents and this one was new to me. I watched him walk past me. He was hansom with dark hair are mysterious eyes. His hair blowing in the breeze just as mine was. I love that feeling, being caressed by the wind. Before I knew it he was out of sight. I did not see where he had gone, for I had been day dreaming of what he would be like to kiss.
I continued on my way to the park and found a nice quiet place to read my book. I laid out my blanket and flung off my shoes. I wanted to lay there under the fading sun and enjoy the wind flirting with my dress while I read. It’s a warm windy day and its perfect. I had been reading for 30 minutes before I was warmly surprised by the smell that came to me. It was the smell of the man who had passed me. I looked up and saw him; he was standing over me with a poetry book in his hand. I smiled and invited him to sit down.

He smiled and introduced himself as a fellow nature lover. He didn’t tell me his name and at this point I was so surprised by his presence that it didn’t matter. I sat up and I asked him if he would join me in a glass of wine. He comically answered that he is sorry but we both cannot fit in that glass! I laughed and poured two classes of BlackStone red. He accepted with a smile. I lay back down on my stomach with my book half-open. My heart was beating so fast, he was right here with me and I could smell him, it was wonderful. We were strangers and I had no idea how he found me or why.
"What brings you to the park today?" I asked. He didn’t answer me, he just looked into my eyes for the longest time and then slowly bent down and kissed me. I thought my heart was going to be heard for miles. Surely he could hear it! It was a very long sweet kiss, perfect in every way, as if we had been kissing each other for years. I broke my lips free reluctantly and asked him once again, "who are you?" He opened his mouth and he said, "I came to the park today because you are here" I was speechless, I didn’t know what to say.

I turned over and lay on my back ready to question him again. He was right next to me, a man out of a dream, just appearing from no where. My mouth opened to ask once again who he was and as soon as I did his lips fell to mine in a long wet kiss. He was pure heaven to touch tongues with. I was enjoying myself too much to ask him anything. I dropped my book and heard the pages flapping in the wind while we kissed. My hands made their way to his dark hair and I could not help myself, I pulled him closer to me. There was no one around; we were in no danger of being seen. He moved closer to me and held me tight. I could not brake away from his kiss, nor did I want to.
He left my lips on his own, kissing my neck. He whispered in my ear "I have been watching you for a while now". I suddenly felt a little frightened. I do not know this man at all and yet he is kissing me. He reached past me and into my picnic basket. He pulled out the strawberries and nibbled on one while staring at me. I couldn’t speak, I was staring right back and it was like he had my mind engulfed with thoughts.
He then fed me a strawberry very slowly; juice ran down the side of my mouth. He reached down and licked it off with his tongue. I whimpered, I wanted him so bad. He picked up another berry and took a big bite, the juice feel on my chest between my *******. I looked him in the eyes, smiled and closed my eyes and waited for him to lick it off me. And he did, very slowly lick it off and trailed his tongue down the length of the opening of my blouse.
He began unbuttoning me, my hand went to stop him, and he reached out and held my hand. He kissed my fingers and said, "abandon all fears". I let my hand fall to the grass and let him unbutton me. I was wearing nothing under my shirt, no bra. I felt his breath touch me on my ******, and I felt it rise to a stiff peak. He took a bite of a strawberry and left half of it on the stem. He kissed me once again, and at the same time I felt the chill of the cold half strawberry touching my ******.
This was heaven, my god I felt a trickle of my own juice run from my *****. I was whimpering while he was kissing me. He touched me so slowly and with such care. The cold berry circling my ****** and the kiss at the same time was driving me wild. He moved and began ******* the strawberry mess of my ******. I held his head to my ****** for a moment, it felt so good. I felt his hand reach for my thigh, soft and warm hand just caressing me. He found my wetness and was surprised by it.
I smiled and giggled, what could I say. He looked right in my eyes and told me I was about to get a licking I would never forget. He was very right! He knew what he was doing, and he made me *** so fast I couldn’t believe it. I was in heaven. Still quivering and whimpering I rolled over on top of him. I kissed him like he was my long lost love. I quickly unbuttoned his pants while a stared at him with glazed satisfied eyes. I moved lower and found his throbbing **** staring at me. I took him into my mouth while I stared into his eyes. I saw the thrill he was having as the moistness from my mouth mixed with the wind as I moved up and down. He tasted and felt wonderful and I couldn’t stop myself from wanting all of it for myself.
I heard the noise of pleasure comes from him and suddenly he stopped me and laid me down in the grass next to the blanket. He wanted me as much as I wanted him. He joined me and made love to me in the grass. The breeze blowing over our bodies, the currents within exploding. He stayed on top of me and started kissing me again.

I broke the kiss and I whispered to him, "Who are you?" He simply reached for the wine and smiled. He filled my glass and placed the cup in my hand while he buttoned my blouse and smiled. I sat up and looked into his eyes, why do I feel is if I know him! He bit my thigh and I jumped spilling the wine on my skirt. I ran to the water fountain to rinse it off and when I looked back he was gone. There was no way he could have left without passing me! I was stunned. I went back to my blanket and collected my things. My book was gone, he taken it. And he had also replaced it with the book of poetry he had brought with him. There was no name written in it, no sign of who he was. Just a book of poetry and a note slipped into a fitting page of love for a moment and it read ‘Meet me in the moon light tomorrow night, I will be waiting" and it was signed no longer a secret admirer.

His Story>>>>
I saw her again yesterday. This time when I went past, she seemed to notice me. Like so many days recently, she took my breath away. I remember the first time I saw her; she was wearing a **** black dressed that crossed at the front. Today, she was carrying a picnic basket.
I ducked behind a corner and watched. Who was this woman? And more important, whom is she going to have a picnic with? I followed at a safe distance and watched her unpack & prepare a picnic for one. She started reading a book and I knew she would be there for a while. I don’t know why, but I decided to backtrack and bought collection of Emily Dickinson poems before making my way back to the park. When I got back, my heart pumped hard in my chest. I could feel a throbbing in my head as the blood coursed through my brain.

Suddenly, I was only aware of our immediate surroundings. The sun caressing my face, the wind lapping at my hair. And her. She looked radiant in the dappled light of the afternoon, her hair flowing over her shoulders. Her sensuous mouth twitched every now and again as she read. Something caught her attention and she looked up at me. I was a mess. All I could come up with was that I was a fellow nature lover. I just stood there until she invited me to sit down.
Worse still, when she asked me to join her in a glass of wine, I blurted "I’m sorry, but we both cannot fit in that glass". At least she laughed and when she handed me the wine she asked why I was there. Having made a fool of myself already, I decided that actions would speak louder than words and surprised both of us by leaning forward and kissing her.
Her mouth was beautiful- soft, full lips. I could taste the wine on her lips and as my tongue gently parted them. Her mouth opened to greet mine and I took her lower lip between my lips.
She was reluctant at first but warmed to me and I felt her hand on the back of my head pulling me to her. I was no longer aware of anything but her. Nothing else mattered.
At one point she asked me again why I was there. I couldn’t believe it when I heard myself say that I had been watching her. "Great", I thought. "Don’t worry about looking foolish because now you look like a psychopath". Deciding for the second time that silence was golden, I kissed her again. Our tongues explored each other’s mouths.
I could feel her warm breath on my face and I pressed my body firmly against hers. My leg found its way between her legs as I used it to press on her *****. Reaching for some of her strawberries, I took one in my mouth and fed her the rest. I put a strawberry half in my mouth and lent forward to give her the rest. She bit into it and our lips caressed as she swallowed it. When some juice escaped her mouth and ran down her cheek, I licked it off, running my ******* trail from the base of her neck up to her mouth.
She was now irresistible; I had to have her. I undid her dress button by button. I licked berry juice from her ****** as I felt it harden under my tongue. I ran my tongue around and around her ******, then from the base of it to the tip. I felt her back arch towards me as my hand wandered down her body. The leg, which had been pressing against her *****, was damp. Her ******* were completely soaked and I was astonished to find her completely shaven as my fingers slipped under the waistband.
She opened her legs as my fingers slipped inside her. As I let my fingers caress her ****, I kissed and nibbled my way down her body. The further I moved down, the stronger her scent became. It was intoxicating and I knew that I must have her juices flowing over my tongue. My fingers slipped under her ******* and I gently pulled them down, very slowly. She lifted herself off the ground, inviting me to take them off completely. It felt like I was 6 years old and opening a Christmas present. When they slipped off her ankles, I brought her ******* to my face and inhaled deeply.
The scent hit my nostrils and went straight to primitive parts of my brain. I dropped them and immediately ran my tongue up her inner thigh towards her *****. I stopped before my tongue reached there and let her feel my breath. I enjoyed the smell while I could as I plunged my tongue between her lips and straight into her *****, the sharp tang of her juice stimulating my taste buds.
She tasted as good as she smelled. I made my tongue rigid and slid the tip of it along her ***** up to her ****. My tongue broadened as I delicately licked her **** like it was a melting ice cream. My wet fingers found her ****** and I caressed it to the same rhythm as my tongue on her ****. I felt her ****** build up and a gush of her *** soaked my chin and my chest.
I was aroused to the point of unconsciousness when she suddenly pushed me on my back and straddled me. She was quick to free my **** and took it in her mouth and looked up at me. Our eyes met in a moment that I will never forget. We both knew what was to come. Releasing my ****, she straddled me and lowered herself onto my ****. We both gasped as she opened up and slipped over my head and down the shaft, her **** grinding against my ***** bone. We kissed deeply as our bodies united and we tasted each other’s juices. When I first saw her, I thought how much I would love to **** this angel. But we were not *******, we were making love.
At last, our bodies climaxed as we ****** hard at each other, my **** slamming hard, my ***** slapping against her *******.
We lay on the soft grass in ******* bliss and she asked me again "Who are you?". I avoided the question by biting her thigh, which made her spill her wine. I took my opportunity and left, but not before swapping books with her. I left a note for her asking her to meet me tonight. Such unimaginable beauty and sensuality can only be enhanced by the moons pale light.
a situation told by male and female perspectives
the lady has me temporarily off the bottle
and now the pecker stands up
better.
however, things change overnight--
instead of listening to Shostakovich and
Mozart through a smeared haze of smoke
the nights change, new
complexities:
we drive to Baskin-Robbins,
31 flavors:
Rocky Road, Bubble Gum, Apricot Ice, Strawberry
Cheesecake, Chocolate Mint...

we park outside and look at icecream
people
a very healthy and satisfied people,
nary a potential suicide in sight
(they probably even vote)
and I tell her
"what if the boys saw me go in there? suppose they
find out I'm going in for a walnut peach sundae?"
"come on, chicken," she laughs and we go in
and stand with the icecream people.
none of them are cursing or threatening
the clerks.
there seem to be no hangovers or
grievances.
I am alarmed at the placid and calm wave
that flows about. I feel like a ***** in a
beauty contest. we finally get our sundaes and
sit in the car and eat them.

I must admit they are quite good. a curious new
world. (all my friends tell me I am looking
better. "you're looking good, man, we thought you
were going to die there for a while...")
--those 4,500 dark nights, the jails, the
hospitals...

and later that night
there is use for the pecker, use for
love, and it is glorious,
long and true,
and afterwards we speak of easy things;
our heads by the open window with the moonlight
looking through, we sleep in each other's
arms.

the icecream people make me feel good,
inside and out.
Noah A Baker Jul 2014
I remember,
My usual nonchalant demeanor going completely bananas in my cubicle of a room
After enlisting to deliver you ice cream.
No, not just any ice cream,
Strawberry with bananas and gummy bears.
I thought it as an awkward combination
But when I got in the car,
The sparrows were flying in two adjacent v-shaped formations.
Slightly puzzled, I pondered if maybe one day I'll meet a sparrow, or anything with enough courage to brave the skies,
Soaring, knowing in time, their wings will tire, and locating a perch is then of importance.
Because life's goal, humans and creatures alike,
Is to find a whisper of a nightingale's song,
Or, possibly, the eccentric taste of a spoonful of their favorite ice cream.
Thanks for reading. Hm.
you see i am very very hungry, so much in fact

i burp very weirdly, yeah i feel so weird

i burp loud and i burp soft when i have a nice cream bun or a nice beef nachos

and i feel like a nice packet of chocolate biscuits

ya know to have with my coca cola

i was watching ellen degenerous and i felt like eating the pie that went in the contestants face

yeah i feel like a bag of popcorn as well as choctop at the movies

because my mouth is burping very weirdly

i don’t want to have this burping feeling

i feel like a strawberry milk and i am fighting myself saying, no, i don’t need it

the strawberry milk says yes, i do, but i don’t want a strawberry milk, it’ll just make me fat

i wanna lose weight but the burping is making me want food, i want a nice chocolate bar

and i want a bag of marshmallows, i want to have more energy

so i can be a cool person, that i am,

i know the burping really is bugging me

and i do want it to stop, STOP, making me feel this way, i want to an artist and a writer and not an eater

please leave me alone strawberry milk and leave me alone chocolate biscuits, i don’t want to eat you

i feel like a chocolate biscuit, but then i say, i will grow fat, ya know keep the fat on me

i don’t want to be fat, i want to lose weight, so leave me alone ya ****** strawberry milk and coke

i want to feel fit in my mind, so i can write and be creative

please leave me alone, junk food, i don’t want to eat you

but the junk food gets in my mind and makes me smell the nice chocolate

i know coke used to be a medicine, but i don’t wanna drink ya

i like to have a healthy lifestyle, and i want to lose this burping because

it’s the medication making me wanna eat, like donuts and vanilla slices and cream buns

and dewok chinese stir fry’s and chocolate biscuits and chocolate desserts and strawberry milk

and a large bottle of coca cola, as my medicine, I DON’T WANT THAT

i had a garden salad for lunch as well as a few glasses of water

i hate being fat, so that means at 2-30 pm, i will go for another walk, whether i feel like it or not

because i must get rid of all this food from my body, so i don’t get diabetes

so if you feel fat, because you eat too much food, push yourself into walking

and walk a regular pace, so you don’t feel sluggish
Wuji Jul 2012
Dead neck down,
Smile on face,
Feed me friend,
Let me eat cake.

Can't dance like everyone,
That's not how I roll.
Fateful accident,
****** up my world.

At least I get that strawberry cake,
Licking the fingers of my good friend.
I can feed her too,
If she is willing to play pretend.

If it's not broke don't fix it,
When it does you replace.
Stop feeding me so much,
I'm choking on strawberry cake.

I can't stop her and the food,
Shoved down my throat I chew.
Shoveling handfuls in,
How much more of this can I do?

Stopped breathing then,
Couldn't believe my fate.
A tragedy,
Killed by strawberry cake.
Not a bad dream if I wasn't paralyzed.
It was confused and dark, dark, so dark,
dark like when Charlie got drunk for the first time, came back, and stumbled-open the door long after Sam had screamed at everyone to leave her the f--- alone.  

And Jesse is standing there, swaying slightly with the beer and the pounding music, and Charlene feels her ribcage shiver with each bass beat.  The pale light oozing off the stage silvers Jesse’s angled face like water, soaks the black shapes around her, pools in each eye as the constant ripple and shudder of the crowd shifts her hips.  Somehow her thin, bare shoulders speak her excitement, and in the dim shuffle of the audience she’s half drunk and lovely.  “You know that calc test is tomorrow,” Charlene screams over the straight roar of chaos. “Don’t remind me! God!” Lovely Jesse laughs and her hand sketches a lazy gun that jerks at her head -- don’t remind me, God don’t don’t don’t --  and Charlene clenches her eyes shut and still that flashes, dark dark dark, her loose-jointed fingers flicking up, twitching in sickening unison with her mocking head, again again again-- don’t remind me, God,
don’t remindmegoddon’t remind megod god oh God,
Sam loved drinking herself sick, stumbling home with her arm ‘round Charlie’s neck, slurring alcohol love and despair to her ‘bes’ fren, besh’ roomate evr, Charlene a.k.a. Charlie.  And “a.k.a.” as Sam loved to call her, was always there to pick Sam up and clean Sam up and sober Sam the **** up.  And every stupid drunk party night that semester she told Charlie over and over again: ‘listen, a.k.a., here’s a funny story: a girl went to buy her mother aspirin cause her mother had a terrible ******* headache and she bought some from her dear second cousin Kurt the cashier who was a trublueblooded Eagle scout mama’s boy back from college, that sonofabitch and she came home, but her momma didn’t have that headache anymore and gave her a mostly delicious popsicle and it was red strawberry, the end.’  And every stupid drunk party night that semester Charlie watched and listened as Sam made up new stories about aspirin (always ending with popsicles).
See, Charlie was always there. Charlie never drank.  And Charlie, she always listened to the stupid f---ing drunk-strawberry-popsicle story.  And Charlie never gave a **** about Sam, did she? She sure didn’t, no, Charlie didn’t.  

“I’m gonna go find the bathroom” Charlie screams into Jesse’s ear and plunges out into the sea of dark shadows circling her.  The door struggles open, then she’s crushing it shut, crushing splinters into her palms, she’s bending over the counter, both hands white-pressed onto its imitation marble, choking down these sharp sparks of nausea bursting like fireworks inside, and the music’s faded out, its just the thud of that ******* drum that pulses over and over and over --god stop it-- fills the room, rattles the stalls, over and over and Charlie’s convinced its a heartbeat, its Sam’s heartbeat, thud thud thud, god its going on and on and pounding, OH GOD, charlie screams, IT STOPPED, no no no no SAM no SAM SAM SAM OH GOD it stopped no no GOD
next song. drum starts again. and the room is inside of the drum, it is the inside, the taut air’s quivering with each beat, taut ribcage quivering with each beat. Charlie is inside a drum. beat beat beat drumbeat heartbeat thud, thud, thud,
god I look awful, Charlie’s looking at her face in the dim vibrating mirror: blue shadows under her dull eyes, pale, dead-tired, dead-drunk, and so f---ing dead-alive,
she goes back to Jesse, wriggling through the black lumps: lovers making out, heavy spellbound listeners, uneasy loners, angry drunks, drunk as-- drunk as Charlie’s first drunk night.

Sam was so ****** that night and Charlie dragged her home to their dorm, sick of Sam’s tangy alcohol breath and her sagging, skinny weight on her shoulder. “I’m sick of your breath, Sam.” sick of it, god Sam, just stop it, wish that breath would go away, I mean,
it was blowing all over my cheek Sam, cause your **** beautiful face was lying on my neck-- that’s why I said that, I didn’t mean that, Sam.

And then you said ‘well, all right Charlie, I’ll tell you a funny story Charlie,’ and I said ‘oh god Sam, not again,’ and you said ‘no, its different this time’ and you said ‘one day there was a little girl who went to the store to buy aspirin for her mom and the cashier took her into the back of the store and hurt her and she came home and told her mom and her mom slapped her and told her to stop talking ***** and shut the **** up and then that little girl’s throat sure did ache, Charlie, even after a popsicle it did. And Charlie, Charlie, a.k.a. Charlene, sure did hate her breath. see, that’s my story and isn’t it a funny story...”
you drop your drunk roommate on the gritty hallway carpet, give her the key say
‘’bye Samantha", goodbye samgoodbye, bye bye Sam, "I’m going to go get drunk don’t be too much of a ***** while I’m gone.’

floormates told Charlie later that Sam screamed at everyone “hey, all you motherf---ers, leave me the f--- alone,” then laughed, slammed the door. and they did leave her alone.
Charlie came back *****-drunk, touched the doorknob and heard the shot, the door opens,
Sam’s falling and Charlie watches her beautiful, bony wrist flick back as she gets blood all over and ruins her face and Charlie sobers up really f---ing fast.  She always was good at that.
There's a note on the desk in Crayola washable marker (purple): "well, a.k.a., I guess I am being way too much of a ***** while you’re gone. you’re welcome. sorry for ******* it all up again as usual"
*Thanks for that Sam, thanks a lot Sam thanks thanks f--- you
I wanted to write a short story in a realistic voice other than mine, so here's a hard, obscene, despairing 20 yr. old?  Its pretty dark... not sure if I like it, but it was interesting and different to write.
Patricia Drake Feb 2014
I keep strawberry plants in my garden
for they give good yield with little toil
and the sweetness of self produce is greater
than something bought

I keep strawberry plants in my garden
and one in particular seems promising
it's not big in size, but it has many flowers
the promise of summer fruit

I keep strawberry plants in my garden
I watch over them from my window
and I dream of what they'll bring
especially that unseeming one in the corner

I keep strawberry plants in my garden
I water them in the absence of rain
and I **** out grass and other alien plants
so they may grow unhindered

I keep strawberry plants in my garden
and they are starting to show signs of fruit
but one of them is dying
suddenly, it just turned brown

I had a strawberry plant
it was my favourite
it bore such promises
it died and I care not for the rest
Johanna Star Feb 2016
As the café fills
with youthful chatter
and screechy laughter
I wonder
what it’d be like to have a friend.

At the billiards
hip teens lovingly roast each other—
their style and form
bring warmth to my lonely day.
Would I ever play billiards
or is that game
reserved for people who have friends?

I sip my strawberry tea
and imagine
having a good friend
To unwind with storytelling and gossip

We'd drink pink martinis
and be so chic in black.
And we'd be loud and open.
I'd be so happy
That I'd never have to write poetry again.

As the fantasy fades
I smile into my strawberry tea
Not too pink, but plenty of sweet.
This is alright. This cold drink is a friend.
RIP GUMA TASA
David Aug 2015
your body, the drain plug,
that climactic days of a day
murky sweet strawberry milk water
ebbs and sways
around, surrounds, and surmounts you

Your body the dumping ground
for pretty poppy seeds
seep, steep
seeded somewhere deep

as

synthetic stinging metaphor rain
pours on your mistreated singing skin
spotted, dotted, synaptic rule
akin to lemon poppy seed muffin tops
your head- a top
spins round
and mimics
never-ending bath drain whirlpool

ambulances and ambivalences soundtrack
this nocturne
night of a morning
mourning already
my poor lost sister
a little less than intact
lost in her head
I'm loosing her

and she's nodding

            and she's nodding

                          and she's nodding

                                    and she's nodding
and she nods
and grumbles,
fumbles for words that aren't there
four words that aren't there
forward isn't there

because what do you say
about matters
when your high
and breathing last breaths overlapping
in humble showers
in heart crumbling nakedness
your faithlessness trapping
murky sweet strawberry milk waters.
Redshift Jul 2013
i like strawberry ice cream.
it makes me feel like my tummy is smiling
even when my mouth can't.
it makes me feel ok
for the ten minutes i take
to eat a spoonful
it makes me feel
like these ten minutes that i have
aren't going to be spent
wasting something
even though
that will never be
true.
Skin so soft and creamy smooth
I think it's time i make my move


I caress her arm with my finger tips
Leaving fuzzy goosebumps and giggles

I gently kiss the angels neck
I gently kiss her ear

She grabs me and kisses my mouth
with her heavenly lips

Sweet strawberry flavoured lip gloss

The clear kind
The kind that makes her lips
look like i want to **** it right
off of them

So i do

Her top one first
All the way around her supple pink
with my tongue

And then her bottom one

Taking my time til her moist
strawberry is transfered from
her lips to mine

She shows her appreciation
through sighs
with her tongue

Wet strawberry softness
My glossy Godess
Michael Humbert Dec 2014
Strawberry lips, capable, voluptuous
Shapely hips, body sumptuous
Vanilla cream skin, soft, inviting
Fingers squeezing, feeling, igniting
Tongue flicking, teeth biting
Blood pumping, flesh writhing
Tangled bodies, spirits, lives
Pleading, teasing, seducing eyes
Limbs reaching, groping, pleasing
Panting faster, shallow breathing
Oh God, don't stop!
Screams, gasps, ecstasy, pop
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
Here comes the sun little darling's
We all get burned
 Is it your turn
     "U-Turn"
Oh! Where I thou
"Green light Diner"
It's telling us to Go
    *       *       *
The Earth beauty faces
I will be your direct sunlight
In plain sight to the daylight
her blossom tree
All I ask come for me
Her face could eat
The divine flower laced

French brie
Tie a yellow ribbon on me
We have so much to see
Let it be sun-face Moms
apple pies
The Sun  "Watchtower"
Someone knocks you off
Your "Bill" on the Ice Queen

The Goddess rodeo waitress
She got you roped in between
The cigarette 1940 case hostess
             "Rose"
I suppose the sunflowers every booth
her smile sets in place

The stain-glass window Notre Dame
Rock and roll hall of fame
The earth kids rainbow chalk
Sun-fun treetops like a beanstalk
Napoleon Elementary Watson
New Jersey Diner capital admission
The Peking duck *** luck

European beauty hunter's menu
Any luck this will be awhile sip "Starbucks"

1-Antipasti cute Shiba Uni
2-Consomme Chicken soup
3-Sun-face to the soul fruit loop
4-Chicken pepper Salsa
Sun-face lights up Visa
5-Hearts of Artichokes Mona Lisa
6-Soy ginger salmon
My sun worshiper man

Fish tacos hummus
St Thomas
Rome was not build
In one day
The windpipes and
the tablecloths Oh! yikes
Full of dream pipes

Sun tan stripes and zebras
Couscous salad big star dipper
Egyptian Gods camels back
Sun-face diner no time
for the sun-chip snack
Diners from 1920-1940
Sun-face air force dresses

Medieval times two swords
Holy lords Easter parades
" Ice-cream Spumoni"
Dinner in the sky
Robin red breast fly
Italian artwork Coliseum
Look up in the sky
It's a bird shaped
Paper plane bad romance
going insane

Waffle House  jukebox rock and roll
Hall of fame whats in a food name
Cowboy steaks American Flags
Cajun chicken legs fruits and figs
At the caboose Ladybird jet lag
Valentine Diner chairs
got footloose homemade goose

Purple rain Prince maple
pancakes
Bananas and strawberry fields
lake sun in shape of a snowflake
Forest Gump changes to
Presidential Trump
Vitamin C  honey bunches of Oats

Yummy floats of egg cream
Open table Sun-face dream
Eggs light she's not finished
over easy
Pristine of carrots with
artful daisies
Thanksgiving turkey

Rings of napkins holding
A time well-bred marriage
Well known landmarks of
Carats
Long ago time she saw the light
Daylight Knight like a scale to weight

Whispers of wine and grapes
Sun face courtesan love escape
Sun Faces trillion times mansion
Sun-faces never go out of fashion
Sun faces and dinner places the best in the world eat heartily Drive in and Diners all over the world have a medieval touch with the Vikings and melodies from the heart  of the surface  her smile will always be there everywhere she goes the Diners place her with Rose
Lavina Akari Jun 2016
20th June

I have always been very curious
the world is so big and I am so small and
I see it as a good thing because then I have more adventures to go on.
This boundless energy is constantly swirling under my skin
and I often feel like I will take off and fly away.

We were sat in a strawberry field and the sun painted us in gold
and I felt like an angel
and you looked like an angel
and I felt like there was no need to see the beauties of the world anymore because you were the most beautiful thing on this planet.
We can travel this world together, even though I'll always stare at you.
lowercasemmmmmm Aug 2014
that strawberry patch in my head
the one you made with wool and a crochet hook
where the rope swing hangs still like a dead snake
where the value of old memories are loud

its fuzzy denim skin rolls and blows in the wind
a reptile in a blouse searching for a cold shade
it crawls to a safe sleeve of an allotments dry breeze
this strawberry patch of mine is unraveling to a fade
Lexie Sep 2014
body
and soul
part part
and part whole

oars
and sail
wet waves
and wet shoals

sand
and surf
tide's end
and tides evening kisses

wash
and away
gone and then
and gone again

scent of strawberry
and reaching fields
gentle holds
gentle feels
Aniseed Feb 2016
How can I hope to hold contempt in my heart
When there's such a beautiful sky above me,
Painted strawberry honey
On a canvas I can only dream
To touch?
Everything just melts away as soon as I remember.
DP Younginger Nov 2014
Red streaks of thin hair, finely cured,
Sugar-coded skin, sweet yet sticky inside…and then you sniff,
Freshly sliced with soft cries for help, the grass grows,
Dried in the most delightful setting; a miniature shadow of the sun,
The initials share a basketball in one palm-
-The pop from the stereo reflects the ripple of a king-
-----------------------0----------------------------0------­-------------------
A complete package within, once the engine has revved- the liftoff-
Find yourself inside of her powers; the majestic magic maneuvers the mind,
Mend many memories and flick the switch on the motionless projector,
Guilty pleasures please the people and protect peaceful guidance,
Keep close the cultivation of a captivating lover-
-She will rise in your soul like helium in the lungs-
--------------------0--------------------0----------------­----
She, who I breathe for, calls my name; forever entering the cave,
I broke off a chunk of everything she has grown to be,
Crumbled, chalk-like pollen, piles into mounds of distraction,
I set flame to the lone match and touch the wick- a silent sway-
She burns, her hair still a fiery-ruby blend, but like all living expectation-
-The ash separates and with the wind…she performs flips-
The poem is supposed to look like a gorgeous nug of ****.
Ghazal Oct 2012
He had suddenly spoken that day-
Gaze fixed at the cup of ice cream in his hand,
As his other hand caressed my hair,
In the gentle coolness of October air-
That whenever he saw half-melted, half-scooped out
Strawberry- soft, thick, flowing, pink,
He would always think,
That when a spoon would run over,
Its smoothness to subtly scrape,
How sensuously it would fall like a poem,
In graceful curve, in rhythmic shape.
"And over the cold, ragged edges that remain,
I run my fingers", he said,
"And I get that feeling- you know?-
When you rub your palm against red velvet?
Yes, that!"

I nodded, feigning understanding, but oh!
How there could be poetry in strawberry,
I had not the slightest clue,
Until he smeared some with his fingers,
And slowly kissed it off my lips.
Then, I knew.
McKayla Kimpel May 2018
Lace on my thighs and fringe around my neck,
more is revealed than the flowing crimson blood.
Bleeding deeper and deeper with every slowed breath.

Deeper than the girls I see with their shoulders against the wall,
the dream girls with their purple hair and tattered tights.
My neck growing saturated with strawberry nightmares,
but at least they like my tattoos.

I feel the black cats circling my ankles,
cries of hunger and any form of normalcy or stability.
It feels familiar, like a hymn from my childhood
throbbing between my ears.

Overlooking other's carnage is easy, until it's your own.

I don't know what this means, but it comforts me.
...seeing purse dressed, flowery-folds,
knows the pleasure, -heaven holds.

Standing proud, -cocksure his breast,
exhausted her, laugh-ter, -nothing left.

Weakly submissive, exhilarated now pressed,
emboldened by she, guardedly bereft...

No strawberry, cakes, honey, grape,
you know what's coming;
EP Mason Dec 2013
You smell like burnt clementines
and flow like strawberry wine

Pick at my icy veins with your icepick heart
your hands filled with light, and my veins spilling dark

Lay with me in a white lace bed
close your eyes and rest your head

Let me smell your burnt clementine skin
and wash my hands in your strawberry wine again
© Erin Mason 2013
Lotus Jun 2012
Mock-orange flowers
With stem and leaf
Of jade, moss green
Spring to life
Through cracks in stone
Silver and white
With Strawberry Fall's water
Filling its thirst.
Creeks of white foam flowing
Down steep falls and flat stones
The Earth's ****** curves
Sun-catching heat waves
Making the surface hot
Enough that would dry the skin fast.
Mike T Minehan Apr 2013
I like a whole lip-smacking smorgasbord of words,
such as preposterous and scrumptious,
sumptuous and curious,
roiling, rambunctious and trumpeting,
priapic, satyric and seraphic,
satyriasis and mimesis. Now this mimesis is the imitative
representation of nature and behavior in art and literature,
which is a pretentious way of trying to say what us writers do.
But hey, we don't just mimic things,
we can be sagacious and salacious, too.
Accordingly, I also like *******, which has a liquid sound,
and I'm not being facetious to suggest that
******* has a close connection to callipygous.
Then, for those who are suspicious of the libidinous,
I also like curmudgeonly and bodacious,
loquacious, precocious and pulchritudinous,
lubricious and fugacious,
scripturient, radiance, iridescence and magnificence,
lissome, lithe and languid (but not too limp),
shimmering and diaphanous, effulgent and evanescent,
flamboyant, fandango and flibbertigibbet,
(although this is difficult to say when you’re drunk),
voluptuous and vertiginous, slithery, **** and glistening.
And when I include crepuscular, strumpet and strawberry,
I may as well add whipped cream
as well, because this can be laid on in dollops,
and dollops is really an excellent word
along with slurping and *******, too.
Actually, I'm very flexible about words,
because in my lexicon, low moaning noises are OK, too.
These sounds come from the chord of creation
which is a sort of reverberation from the time of
primordial ooze, which I would like to squish between my toes.
Then there's protozoa, spermatozoa and also
wriggling flagella everywhere. So there.
But words don't even need to make sense,
because sweet nothings can say everything,
and heavy breathing can be ******,
even rhapsodic, ending in delirium.
Titillating should be in here too, because we all need
some tintinnabulation and tickling of the senses sometimes.
I've also decided that fecund is my second favorite word after love.
Fecund sounds abrupt, but it buds magnificently
in ******* and bellies to burgeon in absolute abundance,
everywhere. This brings me to *******, which I like, too.
I'm also partial to proud words, including bold, bulging and
brazen, along with a bit of swaggering braggadocio.
Then I like some big words, like brobdingnagian,
although I hope I'm not sesquipedalian.
Salivate is a word to celebrate as well,
along with onomatopoeia that helps choose some words here.
Drooling is highly evocative, too,
and it's not being provocative to observe that
even weapons drool when they're in the wrong hands.
And I shouldn't leave out *******, as you would expect,
because ****** is a sort of rippling word
that rhymes with spasm. Both sound deceptively simple,
but by golly, they can be intensely gripping.
And really, it's alright to writhe to this occasion
because all of us writers should endeavor
to have some good writhing in our oeuvre.
Even some bad writhing can be lots of fun, too.
But I almost forgot to mention yearning and burning (with desire)
and vulviform, velvet and venerous.
Yippee, yee har and hollerin' along with other exclamations
of exhortatory exuberance should be in this index, too.
Now. The words I don’t like include no, can’t, never,
stop and mustn’t. Also, irascible and intractable,
unmentionable, ineffable, inexpressible, incoherent,
immutable, impotent and impossible.
Then I don't like importune and misfortune,
and I don't know who thought up unthinkable,
because this is an oxymoron.
Inscrutable is also a complete cop out,
especially when there's no such word as scrutable.
Gawping, gaping, cavernous and cretinous, obsequious,
grovelling, pursed lips, circuitous,
obfuscation and isolation, unpalatable,
cruelty, tyranny and hypocrisy,
should also get the heave-**.
And I definitely don't like parsimonious and mendicant,
which are miserable words.
Quitting doesn't get there either,
and shut the **** up and ******* should also be taboo.
Also, hopeless is, really, well, it's hopeless
because it denies hope, and hope is buoyant and boundless.
I mean, sometimes hope is all we have.
But the word I dislike most is ****,
because this is an insulting word, and
to be taxonomical,
the negative score of this word is astronomical.
Hate is also right up there on this list. Hate is abominable
because it tries to destroy love, and love is indomitable.
Indomitable
is the
mightiest
word
of them all.
Yeah. So there.

Mike T Minehan
II felt good after writing this - it was a bit like purging the personal dictionary in my head. I think all of us could write our own list...

— The End —