"tastebuds" poems
The
warm whipped cream
dripped from her succulent lips
thick liquids drips
smooth tastebuds sips
big long strokes
deep penetrating licks
sensational vibes capsize our hips
riding each other's waves like two crossing ships
mesmerized as our two worlds collide
and coincide like nature designed us
to co-exist we a twist
two organisms sharing a gift
shifting from the present to the moment
relishing in the sensations before they cease to exist
Jan 26, 2018
Jan 26, 2018 at 10:20 PM UTC
Two cakes
Both on my behalf
Carrot cake with a twist of lemon
Crunchie cheese cake
Complementary flavors
What a blend on the tastebuds
A birthday surprise
YUM YUM
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 12:15 AM UTC
At nine, I asked my mother if I could shave my legs
and she said no
At ten, I asked my mother if I could shave my legs
and she said no
At eleven, I asked my mother if I could shave my legs
and she said no
At twelve, I asked my mother if I could shave my legs
and she said maybe later.
At thirteen, I had not shaved my legs
and my mother asked why, everyone wondered why –
that is like asking where I got my molars from
or why my tastebuds sizzle when I drink orange juice.
Suddenly suddenly I was grown
but I had to hide every ****** tissue in the garbage.
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 4:37 PM UTC
Lick the words
from my lips
let them slide down
your throat
like fruited jewels,
dark, hard candies
that melt into cream
a healing liquid
oozing into my
ventricles,
pumping milky beats
out through
your cells
permeating the deep
of my wild
My syllables will
wrap themselves
around your syntax
frothy hybrids
of buttered silk
and irony
heart-to-heart
conversations that
flow into the ether,
as heaven's night
endlessly begins
We twirl our tongues
into guttural utterings,
lustful verse
that glides from
slick-fervored ice
to an outpour
of lava
We feed each other
dreams
our saliva like honey
dripping with dawn's
tender glow
as we open up
like baby birds,
begging to be nourished
at all costs
Here,
in this lingual forest
Your breath finds a home
on my tastebuds,
my tongue
in your
cheek
In between the tumults
of our
exploding oceans
This
is how we
love
Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 5:25 PM UTC
You’re like a white noise slushie
swirling off my sunburnt tastebuds.
I can’t quite catch you.
Those coffee driven evenings have destroyed my mouth’s ability
to make something stay.
See, whispered lollipop kisses used to work
but not half as well as my grape syrup words.
Teach me how to fix my salt-sugar body.
You don’t know how many times those candy coated sighs
“I love you”
have crossed my artificially sweetened lips.
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 10:04 PM UTC
Your taste;
flavor laced.
with complexities,
that are addicting to me.
tastebuds consistently feening for,
the texture of your consistency.
Jul 8, 2019
Jul 8, 2019 at 11:39 PM UTC
Twirl your tastebuds —
let me taste your
modal schwa
your vellum staining
truth or dare,
let me down
your feather-quill;
your quenching quantum
quaking.
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 11:56 PM UTC
You bought the house with lavender
seeded in the front porch.
The scent flutters between the doorsill
and through the letterbox
like bills overdue and invoices outstanding. A postal aroma,
envelope glue smells like flowers to me.
I was never granted the privilege of rearranging flowers
You said, there was more to life than flora,
these emerald, sap dripping, saturated stems
Swelling petals fascinated under my untried eyes,
You said I must not even graze the things.
I longed for a taste of the forbidden flora.
Did buds taste like honey? Were they sour like you told me?
Would they poison these supple
and innocent lips, turn them pink to grey?
Could tastebuds kiss the perennial vines,
the posies, the spray of efflorescence
A taste of simple sweetness -
I remember when you ripped the front-porch-lavender.
The roots could not resist your claws.
You sweat to mutilate strained flowers,
You always work harder. Verdure spoiled.
Ravaged, ruptured, tanked soil.
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 4:04 PM UTC
People show love in many ways
A note on the bathroom door
An extra brownie in your lunch box
Starting the car on a cold morning
For her it was in her food
She cooked her emotions the way most chefs add salt
You could taste them clearly in every bite connecting your tastebuds to your heart,
If she was happy the steak melted on your tongue
If she was sad the soup made a tear glisten in your eye
But when she was in love with me
Every Bite sang in my mouth
She made my favorites every night
Life was good
But one day the bread wasn’t so fluffy
It held a melancholy note i’ve never tasted before
I asked what was wrong but she didn’t have the words to explain what she as feeling,
So I let it go
That was my mistake
Day by day, she started to crumble
So did her pies
She went from a wonder dancing in the kitchen and licking the spoon
To a hollow shell serving you lukewarm pasta that left you unsettled
I excused her behavior
I was busy she was stressed
The food was only cold because I was so late to the table
I didn’t realize it wasn’t dinner I was neglecting
It was her
If i could change one moment in my life, i’d be that night
The one where she finally felt up to baking again
We had some time together, she hummed a bit as she stirred the batter
But then she stumbled and dropped a glass measuring cup of milk she was holding
It was bitter irony seeing the woman i loved,
The light of my life,
Crying over spilled milk
That’d be the moment i’d change
I’d catch her wrist and hold her up
Just Like I promised I would
I wouldn’t fail her if I had another chance
Our kitchen is quiet these days
There's a thick layer of dust everywhere except the microwave
And around the edges of the room are tiny bits of glass
Glistening like diamonds
Or unshed tears,
Abandoned like me
But I can’t complain
After all, I abandoned her first
I should have read the recipe
I should have realized she was breaking
I didn’t see it at first
But every bite held a piece of her suicide note
If i’d only tasted it before it was too late
Now she’s gone
My hearts as broken as that measuring cup
And I’m the one crying over spilled milk
By Aknier ~this is fictional~
Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 10:48 PM UTC
Colorado,Colorado,
I wish I was in Colorado.
Where puffers stand in line
to have a good-old-time.
I wish you were in Colorado
and puff away your blues,
and have a restful snooze.
Where people laugh
out loud and make their puffers' cloud.
And people stop and stare
into thought provoking air,
and talk about the deeper things
in life.
Sensuous summer fills
my mind
between my munchies
all the time.
My tastebuds shout in glee
with popcorn near my reach
and soda made of peach.
Colorado, Colorado,
I hear you callin' me
forget about that tree
of good and evil be.
And smoke away-at times-
those nasty nursery rhymes
cramped between
folders made of black.
Colorado,Colorado,
I wish I was in Colorado
to get a mountain high.
Where puffers' stand in line
to have a good-old-time...
Since not allowed to light
we're allowed to write:
"Let the **** reign forever"
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 11:02 PM UTC
Contemplating the versatility of Mayo
And all that can be done with it
From the slathering on whilst sun bathing
To globbing it on my bologna sandwich
I find it tantalizing to the tastebuds
And it sure does sizzle in the sun
I once applied to much and set my toes on fire
Lucky for me I lost only one
Thank goodness I was near the water
When my foot went up in flames
I guess that's why God gives us ten toes
In case we lose any along the way
As with anything you can even get bored with Mayonnaise
That's why I strive for different ideas
So I put my brain juices into overdrive
And came up with this amazing list
Instead of milk in a shake you can use Mayo
Please wait till the end for all the applause
I'm still having trouble dealing with thickness
And have yet to get it through the straw
Perhaps if I leave out the ice cream
And just add Mayo, milk chocolate, and ice
I guess I'll just keep on experimenting
When it's ready you can be the first in line
And who doesn't like mayonnaise on anchovie pizza
The perfect combination at best
Even better than peanut butter and jelly
If only I can figure out how to package it
Mayonnaise is also the perfect conditioner
You could leave it in your hair for days I suppose
But try to avoid to much time in the sun
After all...remember the toes
I'm going back to my room for more ideas now
Or as I like to call it..."The Mayo Think Tank"
I know my family thinks I'm a genius
Cause they always leave me in there for days
Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 3:47 PM UTC
Waking up,
The smell of strawberries
Marries the air
And infatuates me into
An early morning's lust;
I'm in paradise.
Holding your hand,
Fingers intertwined,
As the radio plays
And we stay with the beat.
Leaning in,
This is the moment;
Strawberries flood
My tastebuds,
And then you blew a bubble to the size of your face.
Bathing in bubbles
That are scent-less,
And I'm senseless
And my hands roam
And your mind leaves this world.
A fire burns
And seven bodies
Bare witness to newborn
Affection-
And I swear a star was too.
But I'll never see that star.
That taste seems so vague.
I came in and burst your bubble-
Tastes sweet
Until the flavor faded.
So here we are,
A bubblegum kiss later,
With a layer between us.
Nov 21, 2015
Nov 21, 2015 at 2:27 PM UTC
Nanu, I had a dream last night that you came back
From being gone almost 3 years
We embraced and I told you I missed you so much
It was bittersweet, really.
I had seen you, and then you disappeared.
Like a shadow, when the sun decides to sleep.
I could've slept eternally knowing I would've been with you; forever
I remember when you were first diagnosed with lung cancer.
You held a smooth stone and told me, "Emily this stone is going to heal me one day."
You told me how it would make you better.
I remember one thanksgiving you gave me a glass of your wine
It was, bittersweet.
Vinegary as it ate away my tastebuds
Sweet like strawberries marinading in sugar, only.. Wine is made out of grapes... You taught me that.
Its funny, you used to let me sit upon your lap when you mowed the lawn, it was my own mistake for crashing it into the fence.
It was, bittersweet.
I got to drive a lawn mower and you had to fix the fence.
I look back to how happy you were on the sun porch in the summer heat, especially when lightening would strike the area around us,
I'd hide my face in your tarnished sweater
It was, bittersweet.
This morning I stood in the snow
Weeping as I stared at the sky,
Then I remembered, you didn't disappear, you just went on vacation for awhile.
It's bittersweet, really.
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 12:45 PM UTC
as i sit here,
eating yet another
bowl of trifle,
that is rabbit-like,
in it's ability,
to seem neverending.
my thoughts lollop,
with leperorine grace to,
fibonacci
and his box of bunnies
multipying and multiplying....
....ad infinitum...
another spoon,
to my mouth.
stop....
the sun's gentle rays,
sparkle through,
jellies translucency.
as tastebuds swoon
at sweet sugar's mango rush.
synapses hop and pop within
my head....
and in my mind's eye,
i see flopsy, mopsy,
cottontail..boy and paul.
(not peter..copyright laws)
cavorting with fibonacci's
numbers,
1,1,3,5,8,13,21....and so on.
playing leap frog, in a hedge
maze.
they play and add and hop and
grow,
in an unending trail,
spiraling off.... into the west,
in a sweet smelling lavender haze.
at this point, i'm now thinking...
just, how much sherry did
aunty beryl put in this magic
trifle....
if i am honest with myself
and with you as well.
i will open my heart to confess.
to three new,
believed abstractions:
one;
after all these years(47)
i am still enamoured of beatrix's
cute little rabbits
(but i must still claim
miss jemima puddleduck
as my all time favourite)
two;
fibonacci's numbers still rule
(what an extraordinary mind
this man owned and used
to the betterment of man kind)
and three;
....much more prosaically..
you see...
i fear i am having a moment of
metenoia ....
with regard to the trifle...
and the amount of it's delctable
connsumption.
i can now clearly
and a tiny bit queasily,
see....
what it is to be a glutton!!!
and i find repentant thoughts
of never again will i eat so much...
(in one sitting)....
are stomping on the rabbits.
(fortunately the rabbits are
getting out of the way....
...quick little fellas aren't they..
...no rabbits were hurt in the filming
of this imaginary sequence...)
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 12:50 AM UTC
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
Aug 22, 2016
Aug 22, 2016 at 10:51 PM UTC
It's an animal beastly thing wrapped up warm in stigmas headlines daydreams sleepdreams ice cream headspin. pain.
Sirens call in my upper chest or my abdomen, maybe. a ****** sea. fish of mens' hooks eels and seaweed wound around aorta blood pumping mind squeezing toes cracking new blister dried fluid. cracks and flakes a flushing cycle, not over the **** yet.
salty eyes heavy chest silver parcels unending quest not shiny particles. Head spin crack of dawn hey look the moon is gone. observed the craters they were my neighbours a hole in my heart like the one......
Don't play mean i try and try green bean carrot pencil brush pen, still here? Run! too hard. Curdling scream turns sour on my tastebuds my tongue has been dissatisfied. Add it to the list! lately I know these things should not have been acknowledged. Bed. No. Kitchen work? Yes. Hurts me through and through and I know it's because it is me and it cannot be handled but it settled in the pit of my stomach and it made itself a happy home. I HATE IT.
BLOOD:
*juice
gore
cruor
claret
hemoglobin
sanguine fluid
clot
plasma
vital fluid*
why would I ever use blood?
Porous salt bruises help mind chooses slugs and moths but i want insects like ladybird bees. Keep me weak and feed me lies because not once did you see me you only looked right past me. how does it feel, little peach, to be dishing out bowls of dinky lies. i ate it you were trusted you were good there's just so many people coming.
when the moon rises and the sky twinkles lights about you its easy to be sad but its time for you to blossom
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 8:17 AM UTC
Cigars from Summatra -
100% tobacco, strong in flavour
and catering for the hungry tastebuds
help
in between
putting on one's thinking cap
and an unadulterated
course of action.
Sep 7, 2010
Sep 7, 2010 at 7:57 AM UTC
Nanu, I had a dream last night that you came back
From being gone almost 3 years
We embraced and I told you I missed you so much
It was bittersweet, really.
I had seen you, and then you disappeared.
Like a shadow, when the sun decides to sleep.
I could've slept eternally knowing I would've been with you; forever
I remember when you were first diagnosed with lung cancer.
You held a smooth stone and told me, "Emily this stone is going to heal me one day."
You told me how it would make you better.
I remember one thanksgiving you gave me a glass of your wine
It was, bittersweet.
Vinegary as it ate away my tastebuds
Sweet like strawberries marinading in sugar, only.. Wine is made out of grapes... You taught me that.
Its funny, you used to let me sit upon your lap when you mowed the lawn, it was my own mistake for crashing it into the fence.
It was, bittersweet.
I got to drive a lawn mower and you had to fix the fence.
I look back to how happy you were on the sun porch in the summer heat, especially when lightening would strike the area around us,
I'd hide my face in your tarnished sweater
It was, bittersweet.
This morning I stood in the snow
Inhaling the heavy smoke of my marlboro cigarette
Weeping as I stared at the sky,
Then I remembered, you didn't disappear, you just went on vacation for awhile.
It's bittersweet, really.
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 1:01 PM UTC
It always seems to be a similar path,
this one I go down.
strung along, hanging on to the back of jean pockets and
holding on to loose hands
clinging just gently enough to not be a bother,
this is how I love.
insecure
like a mid day shadow peeking out to make it's presence known
quietly, but not too loud as to call attention,
like a peach picked up at the market
promising sweet no matter how bruised
I care only to keep the tastebuds wanting
cautious of being too much,
constantly afraid that I am,
conscious of how easily I could be replaced,
one sided like
skin meeting ink
you will be the tattoo gun and
I will be the swollen reminder
you will go unharmed while
I am marked permanent
twinge-yearning,
nail-pulling,
folding back the flesh.
this is how I love and
I know how this goes
you'll look at other girls and
I'll look at you the way the land looked
at rain after the first drought
you'll give away glimpses of your smile to strangers and
I'll give you all of me like it's possible
to grow back complete
you'll put your arms around hips that aren't mine and
I'll feel my own expand with envy
you'll toss around the word love and
I'll attempt to catch it every time it lands
near someone else's feet
you'll carry other names in your mouth while
yours will be the only one in mine, tucked
safely under the tongue
you'll provide me reassurance without an asking for it and
I'll pretend I don't care about a thing in the world when
really it is you who has become my entire universe
you'll play me the way that I'm used to and
I'll laugh like it's a game I never wanted to win anyway
because
I hate losing things I love
you'll make me swell empty without intending to and
I'll make you full with whatever I have to offer
you'll inflict sadness unknowingly and
I'll make you happy like it's a method for survival,
like it's my god **** purpose for existing
this is how I love.
not too tightly, just soft enough for your liking
here I am, programmed for the pleasing
I will hang on like a child's fist does a dandelion
light enough to keep the stem intact
leaving room for your fingers to wrap around
praying you wont let go but
this is how I love and I know how it goes
how it will go
destined to meet the ground eventually after
being dragged along knowingly
I am
aware of how it is,
the same,
always but
this is how I love for
I do not know any other way
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 5:07 PM UTC
The smell of burnt moments is
Haunting me.
The taste of ashes,
like a bittersweet friend,
Savoured in my tastebuds, mixed with
Chemotherapy
I used to be a young soul
Only fourteen winters had tested me.
But suddenly I had to discard the label of
"Cheerful and promising youth"
And replaced it with
"dying"
It's funny how life works out some times, and in this case -
How it didn't.
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 10:24 PM UTC
****** my eyes
They are the windows to my soul
Share with me your beauty
All the things that make you grow
****** me with your eyes
My eyes like what they see
Share with me your weakness
And I'll see you're just like me
****** me with your scent
A heady fragrance reaches far
Etch a trigger in my brain that
Reaches memories when we part
****** me with your scent
The sweetness is divine
Like cherry blossom blooming
Or a coastal sunset night
****** my ears with what I hear
As the gentle whispers of a warm breeze
Speaks to the grass
As cheerful song is heard from the sky larks laugh
****** my ears with what I hear
With your soft voice speak of fond childhood memories ambition and dreams
Telling me lovely stories of what you believe
****** my touch
With the electricity of your body
Strong and broad like the most beautiful landscape I long to explore
Walking every path eager to learn more
****** my touch
Hold my hand in yours
We'll climb the highest mountain
Reaching breathtaking views
Guide my hands from toe to tip
Running my hands over your every inch not missing one bit
****** me with your taste
I may have saved the best till last
One taste of your lips my mouth be yearning fast
One sip does not quite quench my thirst
Im greedy I want more
Like a vino rosso you've let my tastebuds soar
Sweet fruit notes and smooth caramel
I sip you seductively and savour each delicate drop
Grounded by your earthy tones just like my fine wine
I taste your many layers which are perfectly sublime
****** me
Feb 28, 2017
Feb 28, 2017 at 12:27 AM UTC
Bubble gum, bubble gum, in a dish
i
un-wrap
the tightly wrapped satiny
Paper Package
-- and savor
every sweet taste
Of juicy fruit- and bubbly deliciousness
Wetting my mouth and
AWakening my
wanting tastebuds.
Roll it on my tongue,
blow gently, and
pop, there's that bubbly bubble
gum on my face.
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 2:28 AM UTC
Music of the street
Reverberates loudly
Out the dumpster,
From the tiny mouth
Of a screaming
Baby
Wrought in the wombs
Of filth, injustice,
Foggy rage.
Tongues ripped out,
On the floor, tastebuds that
Know the pang
of blue blood.
Rusty nails and overused syringes
***** the fingers,
Softly.
The people yell, maniacally,
Yet remain unheard.
Pain becomes evident,
Written on the faces
Of the unwholesome.
A wafting scent of
Their rotten morals,
Forgotten dreams,
Floats, as hot steam,
from the pavement.
Unable now
To decompose.
Across the road,
A pregnant woman holds
Her cigarette, which
Smells of cookies
And cream soda.
Jesus was enlightened,
Not too pious
For the poor.
Yet more than pain
Was written
On their faces,
Missing tongues, missing eyes.
Laid together
On the piss-stained mattress,
Feet to head and head
To feet.
Nonsense was confused
As words, that danced into
Non-platonic humps.
She kissed him, because
She wanted to feel
The texture of his brain.
Pick her up with
Golden hand, though
She may see you.
And the sad image of
Dollar bills
Inspires the mind,
Making it immobile.
Here, where the **********
Stands, more holy
Than the monastery.
Crawling, as they do,
Through unpainted,
Rented walls, like
Hungry little cockroaches,
Creeping for a bite.
The small infant still
Lays on metal, each
Moment crying softer
For warmth.
Though you will not
Hear her tomorrow,
As she’s carted off by
Garbage men
Who, each week, remove
The undesired
Remnants of yesterday.
Hope for sweet
Needles to sooner bring her
A different relief.
Life is so simple
When struggles
Are never-ending.
Mi amor pequeña,
no llores más. El fin está cerca,
aunque no entiende
mis palabras.
Though the buildings
Surrender with
Decay and the sun decides
He doesn’t want
To keep on caring
The music still plays mournfully,
And only the baby can hear.
May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 7:24 AM UTC
Baby hear what the wind says,
It carries my light voiced words,
Listen to it a bit carefully baby.
Listen to really simple words,
It's more than just lovely words,
Baby trust my loving promise.
When you come to me, lover,
Come swinging your waistline,
You're coming to me, smiling.
You shared all your warmth,
Come now taste my tastebuds,
When I call you in my arms.
Then as you fall in my arms,
I envelope you in my embrace,
We will sleep while hugging.
We cling to each other tight,
I hold your sides and pull you,
Then smile as we are asleep.
You are my ice cream cone,
My ice-cream melts in your arms,
Get lost in our mutual love.
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 11:44 PM UTC
breathe me in
my bittersweet taste
encompasses your tongue
the memory
of me
lingers
on your tastebuds
crave me again
crave me always
breathe me out
exhale
as I pleasure myself
I arch my back
inside the curls
of your white smoke clouds
enchanting you
to have more of me
begging you
to play with me again
I am the best
you'll ever have
I'll send waves
of *******
throughout your being
more than anyone else
without me
the *** will always be a bore
I am your delight
the tighter my hold on you
the more you need it
I'll never leave you
my body is yours
you couldn't get away
even
if you wanted to
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 2:43 AM UTC