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Your words stung,
Every slander,
A deeper,
Wider,
cut,
A bleeding ****,
But,
I grew callus,
Strong and thick,
I learned to push away,
Like a Cactus,
I drew my thorns when you got too close,
I was afraid of hurting my tender insides,
Not again,
Never again,
Would I let you hurt me like you had before,
I spat hurtful words to match the cruelty of your own,
Only letting certain people in,
But never you.
It was suppose to be
    
       Through thick and thin

But when things got

         Thick you became thin

& were gone with the wind.
A line I particularly like from my poem blinded.
Kara Jean May 2016
Tightly forcing her body against the clay
Scraping her tarnished skin, on its unforgiving stones
Determined
Unhinged, narrow thought became disturbed
Intention, soaking the soils energy
Becoming one with nature
Persuit, rapid decaying
No trail of life
Evidence faded
Secluded mountain peak
30 miles in, her only goal accomplished
Her pocket knife she holds over head
Pretending to cut the fluffy clouds in half
One fast Stab
She lays in her vanishing grave
Lot May 2017
I am there too.
Where I can see them, feel them breathing.
In and out.
Fluid and with ease.
Bubbles of air escape from their mouths,
playful and free.
Oblivious to the murk that is me...
c Apr 8
I would like
To be called lovely
But the span of my hips
Labels me nice
Instead
CK Baker Jan 2017
Thank you ~
for a life not to trade
blessings, in spades
tight spaces
behind laundry doors
packed closets
and open drawers
gator tails, tarnished brass
cracks in kitchen sliding glass
wet towels, withering plants
foundation filled
with carpenter ants
buckets piled with
shoes and tags
village clothes
and saddlebags
peeling paint
and broken walls
****** seats
in bathroom stalls
clogged pantry
frigid rooms
table scribe
and carbon fumes
comfort capsules
empty tanks
broken limbs
from children’s pranks
**** finger
double tongue
long goodbyes
and sidewalk dung
cluster flies
chavie’ clique
accompanying
the hypocrite
cracked back
and hidden smiles
chalk on board
with mr miles
atomic wedgies
closing doors
wrotten eggs
and open sores
jaw jack
nasty folk
dinner calls
for pig in poke
penny pinchers
double dip
yellow mouth
and silver tip
brown nosers
thick red tape
paper cuts
and pimple nape
gallivants
so out of norm
the joy of life
in basic form
September Roses May 2018
Thick, warm, fuzzy air
Radiates against your skin, making you want to doze off
You sit on the front of a low red car that looks another era, leaning on the glossy hood.
I want to put your lips on mine
The world feels yellow, and orange.
It's as if clear smoke has filled the air
My eyes are dimmed through thick sunglasses, my body absorbing the warmth through jeans and a small black shirt
I'm in a lucid daze
Looking at you through a curtain of straight black hair, not bothered to move it from my face.
You're eyes the crisp refreshing blue in a world tinted amber
Like fresh water, so cooling as I gaze in them.
Like a spray of water on your back
After hours of sunbathing
We sit there
We say nothing
We take in the sun
   We don't need anything else
My indifferent shelf of admonition
Sets a precedent for a series of irrational
predilections,
Particularly, drops of consumable poison

This poison, you see, induces tranquility
But instills aggressiveness into your
psyche
My words are incoherent and
blurred like my deteriorating mind

My indifferent shelf of admonition
Sets a precedent for a series of
broken shards in the glass of life,
Particularly, drops of poison that
kills us to make us feel alive

One bottle of blithe at a time



Melody
3/6/19
Keep those bottles up on those shelves.
Cweeta Cwumble May 2016
I followed my dear friends to the edge of a cliff
and was greeted by a peculiar thing.
There, standing on the edge of the earth
was a swing set waiting just for me.
Her thick black seat and strong metal arms
cradled me while together we flew
into the starry night canvas, sprawling
dark blue, except for a splatter of twinkling
firefly-speckles, from the cityscape
to the moon.

Each time she lifted me I felt closer
to the heavens. I raised my chin
and let the gentle kiss of raindrops
wash away my sins, cleansing
and revitalizing my body like a baptism.
I’ll never forget the smell of the rain
on the freshly-sprouted grass, with dew drops
made from the breath of my friends
hanging delicately in the sweet air
like glass beads strung on a wire
while the crisp wind carried me higher and higher
and the most brilliant masterpiece ever created
was painted across the entire night sky.
Steve Page Jan 9
my mother has beautiful thick hair

she has dry still lips
and her chin is raised as if reaching
for that last drop of life
from an unseen glass

she has beautiful rich hair

her colours swiftly drain to grey
and to a colder pigment
but this does nothing
to dim her motherhood

my mother has beautiful thick hair
- that hasn't changed
Moments with my mum and my sisters before we said our goodbyes.
Lewis Hyden Nov 2018
About a year ago,
I quit smoking.

My counselor - a
Firm anti-smoker -
Told me, "Well done,"
And as I left

Her office, a thick cloud
Of bus-exhaust billowed
Up to the third story
Window, and seeped within.

"No smoking," the sign said;
"It's bad for your health."
A poem about air pollution.
#19 in the Distant Dystopia anthology.

© Lewis Hyden, 2018
Mak Jul 2014
i love you i love every breath you take i love every sound that escapes your lips as i kiss that spot between your jaw and neck i love the way your hands touch my skin, no rush, nothing to prove, nothing but pure love braiding itself within my heart and reassuring my mind i love the way your voice sounds in the morning when sleep is thick in your throat and your eyes are heavy

i
     love
              you
please
     please
              stay
Scurry hurry
Shaking hands shaped by worry
tie the knot of plastic
A bubble home for the hard green cup
where brown and white
mixed lay married.

Wash rush
Dainty legs in dark blue denim
hasn't time to be romantic
A worn out sister played by hope
shuts the door panting.

  It clings to a robust tree
  head hidden under rosy pink    
  protective shield
  edged in yellow

  The fireflies

  
Sticky webs of empty lies packaged in boxes of deception by the wizard that doesn't work
sit dead on the small bedside table
like the results they provide.

Boxes and boxes of cozy containers
and cards of capsules
47 I counted them
current and extras
They choke my sight
then I am groped by the smooth blue robes worn by the youthful shepherd
posing aside a grey rock looking yonder
into the distance as insta-natural as possible in a pastel painted picture framed in wood against the wall.
  
  Unstable molecules in tiny airtubes,  
  many, breakdown and explode
  like little landmines
  A bio-luminescent lit ***** assaults a  
  dense night flashing brilliant
  to find a mate
  Six strong neon-green throbbing blinks
  Six slow seconds of unimaginable
  wordless dreamless dark.

  are bright.

  
I turn my head
The whole unsettling mass of reality
is torn apart into vibrant colorful morsels,
then reassembled
as my eyes  
settle
on

Her

"Oh God, if you're here, heal her now
and you'll have me. Show me what those confident tongues so eagerly confess.
Please!"

NOTHING
Another sticky empty square
covered in thick black-strap molasses
slapped to the face of the fool
who likes sweet things.

BUT

What happened to the omni-this, omni-that CEO of God enterprises?
"Go on Death" is what that means
"Go on Death do your job" is what it does

"It's your time.
It's to test your faith.
Gods plan."
All slogans for the man
who believes and dies.
  Culture creates the fool
  Hope keeps the fool
  Belief kills the fool
Thanks for doing what all those boxes
and all the pictures
on all the walls of the world do

FOOL

Her face,
a gaunt kind of skin-to-bone sight
a bad flavor
like a meal with no taste

Her mouth,
*****-lipped, framed by dry
delivers deadly blows to a heaving chest
that says; "Give me air"
yet lungs say no

Anguish,
is ****** from the pit of my cold stomach
then up through the spirit of a warm heart
I plaster the feeling in the shape of water.
My eyes puddle

I weep

It sticks

Love,

Falls

Fluttering as a twinkle
through soft beams of sunlight,
the drop glistens
plops
then dies
on the pink and blue checkered blanket.

All I have to offer are busky palms
to soothe this battered body
before you are torn apart by what
puts things like us together.

I swallow her frame

Her calf - bone

Squeeze and move

Her thigh,
my hand wraps completely
pinching a sausage sized piece of muscle
not big enough to walk
between plump thumb
and meaty middle

Squeeze and move

Her hip bone is angular
It fits flush in my hand
like the hard front peak of a cricket cap
when held above the grid

Squeeze and move

My chunky tentacles massage over
wire-thin barely blue throbless veins
that decorate her meatless paws
and twig-like fingers.

Squeeze and move
  
  It's after midnight
  Thick curds of desperation push
  again, through a splendid backside
  a special toosh
  slogging a dancing night-fever
  to beat the two-to-four,
  a beam as bright as a green day
  cuts through the black pitch of night

  

I hold her hand
A thin filling between two slices of mine
I look at her eyes and turn away

Have you ever been pulled from the center of  your heart, ripped head first through the narrow ***** of your own chest, tossed aside like a skin-sheet onto a concrete glass-covered floor then squashed beneath the majesty of a billion dancing floor-clapping feet attached to a shapeless void shapeshifting as slideshows  between all things gone, here, and still to come, stopping on the body of a small blue boy that sings in ghostly echo;
"Don't turn away from this.
Look till you see me through the eyes of another because this too
will happen to you
Clap clap clap clap!
I'm coming for you.

Trapped in a square tunnel made of brick, walls wide enough for one bus no brakes to speed through, no escape,
I accept what will squash me
I Face it
I Stand before it

I stare at her eyes staring back at me
A deep dagger stare
Two parts steel
meshed
until there is only steel
It melts

I simmer the room in soft whisper;
"It's okay. It's okay. It's okay."
I hold her hand,
patting the top as I warm the bottom
I smile for her, at me
I smile back, as me
  
  A skillful mimic
  Here I come
  I have light and breath
  I see yours
  I come at night
  Not for genes or ***
  I hunt and gut
  Hawking down I come as death

  
The gaps between her labored breaths become bigger and for a second I drift at the sight reappearing on the sandy dunes of an empty dessert space pushed by a dying wind I can barely feel.

A sharp salty tang toils the tip of my tongue and brings me back to her.

Her eyes

They have changed

Open

But

Soul

   less

     Soulless

     Desolate

   Like

That dessert

And that place where


*The Fireflies Lose their Light
Cné Dec 2017
she dragged me out of the house
knowing i was feeling down
not allowing me to wallow
in my self pity,

she dressed me,
        painted my face
               fashioned my hair,
that’s my girl friend

at Juliana’s,
small family owned Italian restaurant,
a gem of a find, she said,
Lorenzo, greeted her with familiarity
(she leaves a memorable impression)

she introduced me as her bestie
with a twinkle in her eye
young (as all under 30 people are to me)
handsome, dark thick curly haired,
with dancing eyes,
a serving towel over his left arm
nodded with a genuine smile

i smiled back despite my mood

wine was swirled, smelled,
sampled and selected
a captivating performance,
executed expertly

she watched me
watching him
describe the specials  
with a melodic Italian accent
transforming my mood

garlic knots wafting with his stride,
placed on the table
with a small bowl of marinara sauce
still hovering
in his long lean fingers
it slipped,
splattering red stain
on the pristine white cloth

without skipping a beat
his eyes poured into mine
words emerged
forgive me, your beauty made me nervous
True story,
and yes I left a fat tip!
Best line ever
ceara Jan 2011
I tried
to throw it out
along with the bubbles,
the yellow duck,
and the knickers the dog crudely
chewed

pushed it amongst silled plants,
now it stands,
between Thick Cut Marmalade
and Chlorine Free Baking Cups
a token, painted green with white
Maori dots, symbolizing
the small dreamings
of a tortoise
                                                    
and since this house
is my body, see
how I have placed you
in the kitchen

and I cannot get beyond,
the simple meaning,
of daily needing
love like water, air

and how I don't seek
to see it fully
yet often find myself
checking if its there.
any suggestions on layout??
The snow.
Several inches thick.
It gives no chance for the
sun to work its
magic.

No green
g r a s s . No
colorful   b u t t e r f l i e s .
No leafy   t r e e s . And
no pretty
f l o w e r s .

But one
flower, braver than
the others, uses all of its strength
to rise and break through
the earth.

Its pretty
pedals,
red,
blue,
yellow,
light up the snow
and beg for spring.

That one pretty flower
inspires others,
though not just flowers.

Us people should,
too,
rise up and shine bright.
So go on and share your bright colors!
Inspired by my superhero friend! :)
I forgot the things that I know, the stories surrounding what’s been told, my lover’s heart is frosted cold cause I can’t live without you baby.

The water-wheel of that old mill,
the wildflowers growing on that hill,
the small town life, it moved so slow,
gave us time to get to know,
each other's hearts and let love grow...

…so fruitful all the time we had,
through thick and thin, good and bad,
but eventually you had to go-oh.

I forgot the things that I know, the stories surrounding what’s been told, my lover’s heart is frosted cold but I can’t live without you baby.

I cast your ashes in the stream,
beneath the water-wheel that made you beam,
that smile I will not forget and all the happiness that came with it,
and here I sit alone and sad, reflecting on the times we had,
coastal waves to pink sunset, on that first day that we met,
some later rainy but not to wet, -still I couldn’t live without you baby.

And I forgot the things that I know, the stories surrounding what’s been told, my lover’s heart now frosted cold, forced to live without you baby,

I forgot the things that I know, the stories surrounding what’s been told, my lover’s heart is frosted cold cause I can’t live without you baby.

I can’t live without you baby,
I can’t live without you baby,
Here I am without you baby,
I can’t live without you baby…

Forget the things that come and go, those stories surrounding times of old, your lover’s heart will not grow cold when you can think about your baby,

I can’t live without you baby,
I can’t live without you baby,
Here I am without you baby,
I can’t live without you baby…

...here I am without you baby...
This is for my Father who lost my Mother on 3/14/2014.
Eunyeong Mar 15
Whether love has either been thick or thin
I have given my heart to someone before,
And even though I have played galore
It was not a game I could afford to win.

When two hearts beat separately within
One of them had nothing to ask for
Leaving the other with no valour,
Much to the notions of senseless chagrin.

I once cared for an untamed soul
A wild creature gone astray,
Hiding from people's doubtful eyes.

Love is a contest that has no goal,
One day I shall have the courage to say
I made a pretty illusion out of lies.
Sara Kellie Jul 2018
She's spent all the rent on
cigarettes and cider,
so pull out your **** and put
it inside her.
No need to bring your polished game,
for this one's a **** and that
is her name.
In her **** or up her ***.
The choice is yours,
where d'ya wanna ***?
Say "You ******' ****, get down on all fours, 'cause this is how I **** little ******!
Impale her on your hardened stick and explode inside her, creamy and thick.
Bangin' her *******,
it used to be tight.
It's not anymore,
it gets wider each night.
Then when you're done,
wipe the rest up her back,
letting her know most got
shot up her *****.
Next week she'll be suckin',
an appetizer before ******'
This **** she don't care,
for a TGirl with red hair.

*******
Poetry by Kaydee.
Just a creative imagination, I guess.
;)
Just as you Sing to the Pop-Diva's Tune
The Robins will cower and chirp for more
I speak for some News I brought this Noon
Though I believe you have heard this before:
The Pilgrim comes out of the Pool. And begs
Your Seasoned Pucker as you make-decide
His trunks are no-offense. In Truth his legs,
Thick as moss beg your humble dear Confide
I guess you were advised after your Shift
He requested for your charmed Experiment
Second Ghosts appeared; They in turn bereft
And granted his Fantasy's sentiment.
I should go now. Since more time to pursue
Before he stabs me with a Knife-in-Due.
#cherylcole
CK Baker Feb 2018
lines cut heavy
on a button stretched brow
thick rubber shoes
and dragon canes
fill out the closet floor
gospel sounds
and narratives (drowned)
apparitions set sullenly
with voices of the past

finger pins
and crosswords
find the favor list
point men and preachers
tip up their tuscany caps
twitching and sign gazing
with spectacles held firm
recurring evening news
and beadledom views

clappers and caregivers
raise a crooked foot
grips and rockers
settle in on the front porch
gertrude grimaces
at an untimely turn
as the gooseberry pie
(with a smidgen of cloves)
chills by the night watch
Lynnia Dec 2018
Semi-conscious obscurity
Synergy redacted
I felt the breeze whip through me
Blew me away, consumed me
Threw me into a frenzy
Friends and enemies, come end me
Lend me a hand, come talk if you can
And understand, this ain’t my Promised Land
You’re fantasy, not family
And finally, band together,
Forever, we fight these nights
The light’s too bright, read me my rights
If I’m right, nobody accepts me, except me
Respect me, respectfully I bow before the monarchy
Mon ami, are you there?
Say a prayer
If you dare
Tell me where, and watch me fade away...
laura May 2018
it’s real and thick, like, jiggly
tingly and tasty— i said baby i’m
not made for much but giggling
and i can make your night
haven’t spoken since i was out on bond
but you’re super cute more than i
envisioned and you’re good at makeup

makes my feelings all kinds of wiggly
days lost in green oblivion
like a prison weight lugged around
do you remember when you were
with me all skinny and brittle *****?
how does one destroy hellopoetry? the devs of this site seem hellbent on making it look as boring looking as possible anyways. - In response to a user named suzy will destroy hellopoetry
zebra Aug 2017
i am much younger than i am
my hair is dark and thick
instead of pruned bald
i am lean and meek
feeling hollow
as if weightless

we are at an airport
with no memory of getting there
i had left my hotel room urgently
in a jacket that is not mine
i can't find my Swedish wife
whom i miss like a panicked child
and my Asian wife whom i've never never met before
and know all to well
is angry
and could care less if i got lost forever

i am going home to my parents house
i remember that they are dead
but we had just spoken
there will be soup and Hors d'oeuvre's
they wait for me
on my way
the streets and boulevards are unfamiliar
yet old hat
and no matter how long i walk
i can never find their house
it's located somewhere in Brooklyn
on Haze street in San Francisco
bright is the sun

i have a business
and retain no idea of what i do
i left my cloths somewhere
and i don't know why
in a locality i cant remember
for a reason that doesn't exist

a beautiful woman smiles offers me ***
she is friends with a girlfriend whom i'm committed too
but do not know and never met
i want to cheat with her
but guilty kisses will ruin everything
so i turn away
murdering desire
in an already anchor-less miasma

i remember a past
my life a continuum
of disjointed vagaries
tears well up

i fear myself a figment
a bodiless revenant
stranded in a fog
sparkles and smoke
incandescence and shrouds
a dis-junctured soul
that clutches memories
like braids of dust
living in the eye of nothing
a labyrinth of shades
lighted by the sun of cognizance
a wretched phantom
transparent husk
living a dark fiction
my grave a ****

i am the dead living
Irish Ditty.. One fine day, middle of the night, two dead men got up to fight. Back to back they faced each other, drew their swords and shot each other.
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