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"tangy" poems
red as blood, red as the sky when the sunset sets it on fire. shining like diamonds, little seeds of hope in the large, large, world. they give you pleasure as you savor them one by one. the sweetness, the tangy scent. when Persephone ate those innocent, glimmering seeds. she had no idea of the fate that lay ahead of her. French for pomegranate is grenade a little bomb that goes off a burst of flavor in your mouth a splash of hope in your soul
0
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 7:47 PM UTC
pomegranate seeds
What I miss mostabout New Yorkis pizzawarm, melty, tangy cheesewith **** tomato essense dripping out of the sideand the garlic! i could ward worse than vampires away with it!Don't get me wrongthere is pizza in ScotlandBut it just isn't the same as pizza from New York
0
Feb 26, 2010
Feb 26, 2010 at 1:00 PM UTC
Pizza
My lips are fresh berries And my heart, a creamy peach. When I speak, My mouth drips mango juice, Delectable and raw. My mind is plentiful dragon fruit. My eyes are green melon, Bright and dewy. My fingertips, fragile blackberries, Tender and rich. My lungs are tangy lemon slices. To match my lemon soul- Consuming crisp air. My tongue, pleasant as pomegranate **** and joyful. I am alive.
0
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 7:00 PM UTC
Delectable
sweetness overwhelms--           like the pleasant pop of a pomegranate seed. sweet sharp burst                     overtaken by a flood of tangy red                     overcomes the mouth and drips from the corner of the lips.
0
Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 7:16 PM UTC
pomegranate
The pick All the stress that an orange has caused is painful. It is painful for the tree from which it came. Snatched away with promises of sweetness. A tree mostly green, engulfing Small speckles of that deceptive orange. It was such a bright colour – high hopes! Handpicked by a man only looking for the best, Choosing poorly not for the first time. The green leaves frantically try to reclaim what’s theirs. Branch after branch reaching out, trying to uproot him. Close, so close. But they are a sea apart, At least an apple has a core, a heart. The peel Now it is pilfered, the painful process begins, Never quite ending: disappointment beckons. To try and taste these orange juices You soldiers must bear the burden. Each soldier, a finger digging themselves Into the tough stressful shell. Fingernails stained with orange blood, Eyes blinded by the same tangy juices. It never slips off in one go Like a roomy balaclava, But crumbles like the remnants of a bombing. Brick by brick, orange by orange it crumbles. Now it is finally undone But neither tree nor man has won. The preparation The crust collapsed, but now It is time to untangle the web the mantle holds. First, a division – the separation of brothers Who served side by side at birth. Dissected by these soldiers Acting as a bomb squad, Searching for those hidden pips. Found, but not without casualties – Sticky fingers with no taps in sight. Once removed the web is untangled. Tired, he hopes that the stress will swiftly end Unaware that the sweetness was just pretend. The pain Finally the moment has arrived And illogical ceremonies commence. I fear the celebration is far too soon, For as white touches orange and tries So desperately to unite, The tartly taste slays the poor man’s buds: Igniting like petrol on his burning tongue. He wishes he could return that orange To the green tree to which it belongs, To return a bullet-sprayed windscreen is not an option. The orange, once bitten, enjoys its trance Latching on to those pained tingling taste buds. His orange, a disaster to undress: Bad taste – a foolish price for such a mess.
0
Feb 14, 2011
Feb 14, 2011 at 12:06 PM UTC
Orange
The pick All the stress that an orange has caused is painful. It is painful for the tree from which it came. Snatched away with promises of sweetness. A tree mostly green, engulfing Small speckles of that deceptive orange. It was such a bright colour – high hopes! Handpicked by a man only looking for the best, Choosing poorly not for the first time. The green leaves frantically try to reclaim what’s theirs. Branch after branch reaching out, trying to uproot him. Close, so close. But they are a sea apart, At least an apple has a core, a heart. The peel Now it is pilfered, the painful process begins, Never quite ending: disappointment beckons. To try and taste these orange juices You soldiers must bear the burden. Each soldier, a finger digging themselves Into the tough stressful shell. Fingernails stained with orange blood, Eyes blinded by the same tangy juices. It never slips off in one go Like a roomy balaclava, But crumbles like the remnants of a bombing. Brick by brick, orange by orange it crumbles. Now it is finally undone But neither tree nor man has won. The preparation The crust collapsed, but now It is time to untangle the web the mantle holds. First, a division – the separation of brothers Who served side by side at birth. Dissected by these soldiers Acting as a bomb squad, Searching for those hidden pips. Found, but not without casualties – Sticky fingers with no taps in sight. Once removed the web is untangled. Tired, he hopes that the stress will swiftly end Unaware that the sweetness was just pretend. The pain Finally the moment has arrived And illogical ceremonies commence. I fear the celebration is far too soon, For as white touches orange and tries So desperately to unite, The tartly taste slays the poor man’s buds: Igniting like petrol on his burning tongue. He wishes he could return that orange To the green tree to which it belongs, To return a bullet-sprayed windscreen is not an option. The orange, once bitten, enjoys its trance Latching on to those pained tingling taste buds. His orange, a disaster to undress: Bad taste – a foolish price for such a mess.
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What a face "Sells" Abruptly she yells Matte burning dry Just try Too moisten her lips She's the Red devil From hell why does her orange face peel sell? The right color a psychic won't tell Wishing well drenched He touched my orange juice "All Frenched" She loves to slice and he peels what appeal orange saffron sauce One last juicy squirt divorce It's time for fresh squeeze Too frozen concentrate The happy hour "Orange" feel   no other place like fate Ten times real "One" face peel has been love absorbed Like lemon meringue Tainted love Bitter grind soft butter glove Do you mind orange flame (The Spa) sells to be loved Tra la so kind all Grunge Going "Wawa" coffee cruel Other colors haha Movie set Orange payroll lounge tease squirt But destroyed by the evil spell curse Summoned on sunburst But we need the Orange before the sun comes Like clones orange, you glad we have "Green Apple" phones One step beyond orange zones I don't want to burst your orange sauce Grand Marnier starry twist of orange Two timing orange yogurt Taste to tangy it hurt Hey Yo Orange peel Spa Still sticks Orange Julius flirt O outrageous P pick What turns us on and gets us sick Plan your work and work your plan Never offend her Let's see the chef make you love her Creamified dreamlike Whip free The orange mousse pie Let me hear it yummy to lie
0
Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 11:43 AM UTC
Orange Peel Sells
Peach salsa Has that tangy taste Between sweet and spicy Burning tongues naughtily but nicely. Peach salsa Is the quiet librarian of dips Unassuming until the bun comes undone And blink of an eye she’s a firecracker in bed. Peach salsa Tastes a lot like you And our Sunday afternoons Experiments with papaya and pineapples Tossed in with tomatoes and crying onions The perfect recipe for a little change and a lot of disaster.
0
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 2:32 PM UTC
Peach Salsa
365Nectar #46 The High Priestess of Soul Fri. November 8, 2013 10:38 P.M. Deep in the distance dancing upon the horizon a deeply distinctive voice defies definition bending genres to her will clearly breaking boundaries an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues Little Girl Blue lettin' it all out with a wild as the wind Sinner man just tryin' to feel good absolutely refusing to be misunderstood a strong-willed priestess turns tempermental tunes into blazing beautiful harmony putting a revolutionary spell on you belting emotional songs of freedom and spirit Peace of Heart Nectar of Truth just in time to do what you do... an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues. Born to a preacher handyman and housemaid minister a gospel pop fusion diva emerges from the Glory of Love a strange volatile fruit blossoms into young, gifted, and Black spitting storms of spiritually smoldering Black Gold from a silky soul that scorches the earth an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues Masterfully mesmerizing Black rock Blood and Candlesmoke a fiery flow of tangy, tantalizing and titillating under a fog of duality genius bears two heads vibrant and intricate a saucy songstress swings with passion and honesty an empowered diva breaks down and let's it all out just energetic expressive jazz injected with well composed folklore live at Ronnie Scotts an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues From Newport to Baltimore an exiled priestess feeds forbidden fruit and hypnotizes the masses with tantalizing love me or leave me alone torch songs a powerful Four Women high on Lilac Wine blush from Broadway Blues Ballads in Baltimore See-line woman goes to hell to save Little Liza Jane and shelters in Barbados Cotton-eyed Joe feeds Brown Baby controversy behind Blue Prelude Did it move you? Yeah... Hell yeah.. it moved me too! Mr. Bojangles wave bye bye to a Blackbird in chilly winds that don't blow while willows weep something seemingly symbolic of soothing to an African mailman in Central Park and an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues The High Priestess of Soul caged but still singing shivering sensations from stubborn sweetness under sweet strings that sharply spill and scatter strength to the sorrowful that daily dine and devour silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues.
0
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 11:51 AM UTC
The High Priestess of Soul
365Nectar #46 The High Priestess of Soul Fri. November 8, 2013 10:38 P.M. Deep in the distance dancing upon the horizon a deeply distinctive voice defies definition bending genres to her will clearly breaking boundaries an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues Little Girl Blue lettin' it all out with a wild as the wind Sinner man just tryin' to feel good absolutely refusing to be misunderstood a strong-willed priestess turns tempermental tunes into blazing beautiful harmony putting a revolutionary spell on you belting emotional songs of freedom and spirit Peace of Heart Nectar of Truth just in time to do what you do... an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues. Born to a preacher handyman and housemaid minister a gospel pop fusion diva emerges from the Glory of Love a strange volatile fruit blossoms into young, gifted, and Black spitting storms of spiritually smoldering Black Gold from a silky soul that scorches the earth an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues Masterfully mesmerizing Black rock Blood and Candlesmoke a fiery flow of tangy, tantalizing and titillating under a fog of duality genius bears two heads vibrant and intricate a saucy songstress swings with passion and honesty an empowered diva breaks down and let's it all out just energetic expressive jazz injected with well composed folklore live at Ronnie Scotts an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues From Newport to Baltimore an exiled priestess feeds forbidden fruit and hypnotizes the masses with tantalizing love me or leave me alone torch songs a powerful Four Women high on Lilac Wine blush from Broadway Blues Ballads in Baltimore See-line woman goes to hell to save Little Liza Jane and shelters in Barbados Cotton-eyed Joe feeds Brown Baby controversy behind Blue Prelude Did it move you? Yeah... Hell yeah.. it moved me too! Mr. Bojangles wave bye bye to a Blackbird in chilly winds that don't blow while willows weep something seemingly symbolic of soothing to an African mailman in Central Park and an exiled priestess wails louder than ever silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues The High Priestess of Soul caged but still singing shivering sensations from stubborn sweetness under sweet strings that sharply spill and scatter strength to the sorrowful that daily dine and devour silky, soulful, and spicy Pastel Blues.
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ARTICHOKES are very nice roasted with pine nuts Who likes BANANA cream pie? They say that eating CARROTS improves your eye sight Along the river Nile there are many DATE palms ELDERBERRIES make a flavorsome wine Piths from a FIG can easily get stuck between your teeth Nape tape and shape all rhyme with GRAPE HORSERADISH has a hot tangy taste ICE-PLANT is a much used vegetable in Chinese cookery The oil extract from JUNIPER BERRIES produces quine My sister likes KALE steamed with lemon rind It is so nice to munch on a LETTUCE leaf MANDARINS are presently plentiful at the green grocer's NEEPS can be mashed or left whole On a hot summer day chilled ORANGE juice goes down well Has anyone got a good PUMPKIN scone recipe? Lashings of QUINCE jam were spread on my toast The lady next door grows RHUBARB SPINACH gave Popeye much strength Smothering sausages in TOMATO sauce is sensational UGLI is a member of the citrus family In New Orleans you'll find fresh VELVET BEANS WATERCRESS salad is so easy to prepare XIGUA is a type of WATERMELON YAMS are a staple of the New Guinean diet ZUCCHINI bread is delicious fair
0
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 2:32 AM UTC
ABC Poem (Fruit and Vegetables)
╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ '✿⊱╮ Golden, flaky, and so crisp Layers of flavour Lemon, honey, cinnamon, tangy syrup drips chopped walnuts, almonds, whipped cream crown Fork! ╰⊰✿⊱╮
0
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 3:08 PM UTC
╰⊰✿ ́Baklava'✿⊱╮
There's spring and there's summer, there's all that's in between no listless skies of anodyne; now nature flaunts and preens What beauty fills the hungry eye 'neath a sky of blue, serene verdant vales soaked in sun, awash in palettes of green There are pastels that awaken and deep shades that passion brews created hues that trickle...sprinkled with 'chartreuse' There's the green of 'asparagus' and that of 'artichokes' Of 'forest', 'ferns' , of 'moss', a brush of different strokes Fragrant plants of 'mint', then 'myrtle' and 'green tea' 'Emerald', 'jade' or 'harlequin' and 'malachites' that be Off creamy shells, just 'pistachio', 'green apples', then of 'pines' It lies too in 'sap' and 'teal', in 'avocados' and tangy 'lime' There's green of the 'mantis', in 'jungle', 'hunters' and 'shamrock' The lithe 'parakeet' fluttering and the lazy sanguine 'croc' In blessed 'basil', ' pickle', in 'pear', 'olives' in 'bottle green' 'Gourds' and 'peas' that farmers grow in cultivars pristine 'Tis there in 'aqua' and 'seaweed', in the ripple of 'sea green' waves In 'turtles', 'sea foam', 'anemone' and a 'tropical glistening lake' From 'laurel green' to an 'army green' , in 'sage' ( a shade of grey ) The color of 'grass' , the murky 'swamp' , hues in array There's 'neon' and an 'Indian green', a 'Persian' one to mystify A 'midnight green' to bright 'fluorescent', oh, for green rainbows in the eye
0
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 10:30 AM UTC
Fifty shades of Green
Sweet as sin, as Sensual as-- Sundays in a foreign movie Naughty nectar, Tangy taste I wanna reach first base Come on over, honey baby Lay with me like yesterday's blues I'll forget to remember you if You remember to forget me not It is a bittersweet world, after all
0
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 2:08 PM UTC
Mango boy
waste matter discharged from the mother's bowels; feces, excreta, stools, droppings; waste matter, ordure, dung; **** poo, dirt, turds, **** "cleaning up ferret excrement": mid 16th century: from French excrément or Latin excrementum, from excernere ‘to sift out’ feces;                              act of defecating; a contemptible or worthless person; something worthless; garbage; nonsense; "this book is **** unpleasant experiences or treatment; "I went through a lot of **** last year" things or stuff, especially personal belongings;           "he left all his **** in my apartment"                              events or circumstances; _"some crazy **** went down last night"_ any psychoactive drug, especially marijuana [the good **** good **** verb: **** 3rd person present: ***** past tense: ******* past participle: ******* past tense: **** past participle: **** past tense: shat; past participle: shat; gerund or present participle: ******** expel feces from the body, soiling one's clothes as a result; expelling feces accidentally; very frightened. tease or try to deceive someone or thing. "I **** you not"                    exclamation                    exclamation: ****         [exclamation of disgust, anger, or annoyance] Old English scitte ‘diarrhea,’   of Germanic origin; related to Dutch schijten, German scheissen [verb]; _The term was originally neutral and used without ****** connotation_;             *********** from Greek κόπρος, kópros—excrement    & φιλία, philía— liking, fondness, also called scatophilia or ****        [Greek: σκατά, skatá-feces], is the paraphilia involving   ****** arousal & pleasure                        from specific feces; meanly,                 his mother said,   _u can drink my *** but don't eat my **** then she **** & *** & the boy drank but when he put the warm **** to his mouth, she slapped it out of his hand & yelled, I told u not to eat my **** & the boy began to cry & feeling bad his mother turned to let him lick the bowl &    rim the moist wet hole between        her pudgy cheeks & then gave him more of her tangy *** to drink like lemonade & chocolate chips,     sometimes it was more like sweet sherbet; but she never hit him again & he's been eating her **** ever since; now, his wife lets him drink her *** & he eats from the baby's *****
0
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 12:38 AM UTC
nolite, manducare, matris, stercore
waste matter discharged from the mother's bowels; feces, excreta, stools, droppings; waste matter, ordure, dung; **** poo, dirt, turds, **** "cleaning up ferret excrement": mid 16th century: from French excrément or Latin excrementum, from excernere ‘to sift out’ feces;                              act of defecating; a contemptible or worthless person; something worthless; garbage; nonsense; "this book is **** unpleasant experiences or treatment; "I went through a lot of **** last year" things or stuff, especially personal belongings;           "he left all his **** in my apartment"                              events or circumstances; _"some crazy **** went down last night"_ any psychoactive drug, especially marijuana [the good **** good **** verb: **** 3rd person present: ***** past tense: ******* past participle: ******* past tense: **** past participle: **** past tense: shat; past participle: shat; gerund or present participle: ******** expel feces from the body, soiling one's clothes as a result; expelling feces accidentally; very frightened. tease or try to deceive someone or thing. "I **** you not"                    exclamation                    exclamation: ****         [exclamation of disgust, anger, or annoyance] Old English scitte ‘diarrhea,’   of Germanic origin; related to Dutch schijten, German scheissen [verb]; _The term was originally neutral and used without ****** connotation_;             *********** from Greek κόπρος, kópros—excrement    & φιλία, philía— liking, fondness, also called scatophilia or ****        [Greek: σκατά, skatá-feces], is the paraphilia involving   ****** arousal & pleasure                        from specific feces; meanly,                 his mother said,   _u can drink my *** but don't eat my **** then she **** & *** & the boy drank but when he put the warm **** to his mouth, she slapped it out of his hand & yelled, I told u not to eat my **** & the boy began to cry & feeling bad his mother turned to let him lick the bowl &    rim the moist wet hole between        her pudgy cheeks & then gave him more of her tangy *** to drink like lemonade & chocolate chips,     sometimes it was more like sweet sherbet; but she never hit him again & he's been eating her **** ever since; now, his wife lets him drink her *** & he eats from the baby's *****
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53
Morning *** is like drinking coffee Hot Thick Sweet Brown? Morning *** is like scrabbling eggs Quick Heat Beaten Creamy? Morning *** is like sizzling bacon Greasy Aromatic Bubbly Crunchy? Morning *** is like sipping orange juice Cool Tangy Healthy Pulpy?
0
Oct 25, 2011
Oct 25, 2011 at 11:03 AM UTC
Morning ***
I walked into a sunset that did not belong to me, Its vivid colours burning across the Mediterranean Sea. In a fragile, elusive moment of composure I gazed at the choppy sea moving closer To the rugged, pebbly, rocky shore Where I stood alone against the Rock. The Rock of Gibraltar watched with a smile As the turbulent Med pulsating with life Scattered its waves against the strand, And the sapphire waters kissed the ancient land. The stormy sea embraced the coast With fierceness intangible as a ghost. The air vibrated with a taste of freedom, With barely audible words of wisdom That travelled across the centuries To fill the tangy air with memories. The voices from the past enveloped the Rock In an alluringly mythical, protective cloak. I gathered the strength I drew from the Rock; Fears discarded, the resolve growing strong, I walked the Med Steps to the very top Against a dazzlingly splendid backdrop Of the breathtaking views of the bay, Basking in the aura of fears thrown away. Intoxicated by the beauty, hungry for more, I was feeling elated to the very core. The fear of heights temporarily conquered, The contentment felt almost awkward. Suddenly, the world seemed a different place: Offering the nature's graceful embrace. As the starry night slowly descended, In my solitude, I felt protected By the mighty Rock standing tall and grand Guarding the ancient, immemorial land. Copyright: Nara Hodge 2018
0
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 1:31 PM UTC
Dream of Gibraltar
After a thoroughly enjoyable weekend Which involved watching an animated science fiction thriller Followed by a Football World Cup Final Which turned out to be even more thrilling I had to face the dreaded prospect Of returning to work on a Monday Yes, the notorious villain of the week Which can ensure sleepless nights Even for the strongest souls Well, the day was actually not that bad To begin with, at least After a hot bath Followed by an even hotter cup of filter coffee Prepared by my dear mother, as ever I had a simple breakfast Consisting of a plate of chapatis Mixed with some rather tangy marmalade Thus, I was ready To face the grind of work Or at least, I thought I was The reality turned out to be as different As apples and oranges It started with a few phone calls However, the response was not flattering Thus, I headed to lunch In the hope of making some progress In the second half of the day However, I couldn't have been more wrong The phone calls failed to achieve their purpose As I was unable to obtain slots For the interviews to be scheduled Moreover, I was dealing with multiple stuff At the same time Which proved to be even more difficult Than obtaining a seat in one of the IIMs Time was playing a cat-and-mouse game with me The closer I got to him The more he would evade me As the hours flew by I kept meandering aimlessly Without achieving anything tangible By the time I finally got the hang of work It was already well past 6 PM And I felt as though I had wasted more time Than a certain Sunil Gavaskar had done In his infamous innings of 36 not out, off 175 ***** In the inaugural 1975 Cricket World Cup Thus, I was thoroughly relieved When the day finally ended Returning to work on a Monday Especially after a thoroughly enjoyable weekend Is never good Full stop
0
Dec 19, 2022
Dec 19, 2022 at 10:59 AM UTC
Returning To Work On A Monday
After a thoroughly enjoyable weekend Which involved watching an animated science fiction thriller Followed by a Football World Cup Final Which turned out to be even more thrilling I had to face the dreaded prospect Of returning to work on a Monday Yes, the notorious villain of the week Which can ensure sleepless nights Even for the strongest souls Well, the day was actually not that bad To begin with, at least After a hot bath Followed by an even hotter cup of filter coffee Prepared by my dear mother, as ever I had a simple breakfast Consisting of a plate of chapatis Mixed with some rather tangy marmalade Thus, I was ready To face the grind of work Or at least, I thought I was The reality turned out to be as different As apples and oranges It started with a few phone calls However, the response was not flattering Thus, I headed to lunch In the hope of making some progress In the second half of the day However, I couldn't have been more wrong The phone calls failed to achieve their purpose As I was unable to obtain slots For the interviews to be scheduled Moreover, I was dealing with multiple stuff At the same time Which proved to be even more difficult Than obtaining a seat in one of the IIMs Time was playing a cat-and-mouse game with me The closer I got to him The more he would evade me As the hours flew by I kept meandering aimlessly Without achieving anything tangible By the time I finally got the hang of work It was already well past 6 PM And I felt as though I had wasted more time Than a certain Sunil Gavaskar had done In his infamous innings of 36 not out, off 175 ***** In the inaugural 1975 Cricket World Cup Thus, I was thoroughly relieved When the day finally ended Returning to work on a Monday Especially after a thoroughly enjoyable weekend Is never good Full stop
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53
tangy taste of pickle with hot white fluffy rice from your rice cooker
0
Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 8:46 PM UTC
Pickle and Rice
Deranged rocks, spread in albeit magnetic threads rattle the sky's mirror with impatience. Lay her feet on the ground, the young girl did. The touch of her soft, dampened scarf kindled the metamorphic calm. My veritas found its unwanted shrine-- The dreadful peace that let it dine, upon the well-being of its host nest its swine. The ****** amalgam in her eyes led its produce down her wavy brown vines. They hid her cheeks, and brought down traited drops of long-withheld tangy crust towards the lavender ascot. She grabbed onto her feet, warm and wrapped with white cotton and wool heat... she caressed the ornamental fabric, swerved her fingers along its threaded magic. Their lacy innocence familiarized her and made her smile, whence the memory of her veritas triggered in her mouth's isle. She lay her hopeful eyes on the silver-nitrate clad scarf, covering the now-calming rocks' quaff. Of my reflection her face saw only loss, for her recognition seemed forever trapped in virtuality, in moss.
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Mar 30, 2013
Mar 30, 2013 at 11:39 AM UTC
Lavender mocks my stockings
your tastebuds won't divorce the tangy zest of Giuseppe's sauce the fulsome tomato flavour you'll always want to savour Giuseppe's sauce is so yum yum Giuseppe's makes the palate hum hum
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Aug 22, 2016
Aug 22, 2016 at 10:51 PM UTC
Giuseppe's Sauce
floating like the planets our mouths twitch and our teeth shine like venus the love goddess hangs alone in space light screams in the skies end this venusian nightmare and we admire the beauty of her desperate plea marveling at how bright she is brighter than our smartphones and the dim reflection of the limelight in our eyes our own citrus dreams tangy with the kisses born in tearducts and lit up by the cries of venus please
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Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 7:04 PM UTC
Citrus Dreams
We run blind, Hair blowing, arms flailing as Blithe heart’s make a blind start Into the sweet unknown. Stop. Taste the tangy so-its-sore, Make-your-eyes-screw-up More-than-your-contorted-face Sweets. Such as licorice sherbet straws. Poor blind hearts. Caught in the net of Time, Sickly sweet now obsolete, My heart starts to beat Away from my running feet. I don't like those straws no more.
0
Oct 11, 2010
Oct 11, 2010 at 11:05 AM UTC
Sweets
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
0
Jan 30, 2020
Jan 30, 2020 at 3:24 PM UTC
Strawberry Syrup