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Andrew Jun 2017
We start the shift at the same pizzeria
Then we must go on deliveries
And individuality is born
Through varying methods and differing destinations
But distinction is mostly born through tips
The start of the drive is almost always somewhat positive
Unless you know you're getting a low tip in advance
The transaction is the singular event
It's outcome determines your demeanor for the drive back
To the store that is our equalizing ending
Deliveries are over at that point
The beginning and end are the same store
The middle is our transaction

Delivery drivers have lived a thousand lives
If they have delivered a thousand pies
Often getting low tips and asking why

I maximize the radio's volume
To avoid hearing
The roar of my engine
Indicating the speed of my delivery
But the lyrics
Sound so similar to my engine's audio
Tears form in my dreaming eyes
I wipe them away
To be presentable to the customer
Who doesn't tip in heartbreaking fashion
As I return to my vehicle
Tears are no longer available
Only silent contemplation
My thoughts void blaring music
As the reality of my delivery has been discovered
And the nature of my drive back dawns on me
I'm compelled to rush to the end of the journey
So I might possibly start a new delivery
Instead of the one I'm on
Wishing I had gotten better tips
jt Jun 2014
Don't do bad things. Karma will bite you in the *** and you'll regret whatever wrong you committed. Scratch that, humans are inherently evil.

2. Don't ever, ever believe someone when they say they will never leave. Please, just don't. You'll end up sad and miserable until you find someone who feeds off your sadness.

3. Never ever use Comic Sans unless it's for something ironic.

4. Don't ever get too attached to anyone. When they get tired of you and leave, the only thing on your mind will be, "How does emptiness feel this heavy?"

5. Try not to fall in love with a poet. When you fall in love and crash, he won't be there to break your fall. He'll write about how beautiful it was when you fell, and how he got to see you unravel in the most graceful way possible.

6. Watch reruns of America's Next Top Model and binge on ice cream when you're sad. The ***** fights are simply excellent. And the drama too. Mm.

7. Wake up early to see the sunrise and immerse yourself in waves and be one with the forest and you'll thank Mother Nature for all the beauty in the world.

8. Don't sleep around with other people. You'll never understand what making love is because you're used to ******* and only *******. The act of breathing together is more personal than the sloppy one night stands people bustle through on lonely evenings. Or drunk ones.

9. Love yourself. Is it possible? I believe this is what we all aspire to achieve in some point of our lives. Good luck.
it was a cold and long bus ride when i wrote this & i don't think you'll ever leave my mind
Kara Jean Apr 2016
Touch a rush
Floral green trim
A dress of deceit
Ferocious credibility
Strike, shock and distraught
Question her everything
A maddening cluttered up chest  
Red unprinted marking
She is a tempus tip toeing
Digesting hearts of many
Warned, they crawl
Enthralled, lurking for her gore
Her dress tore in natural beauty  
Cleaning syrup from her finger tips
Max Mar 18
Working on a little book for my poems, good idea? And how can I spread it? Does anyone have tips?
Don't want to sound arrogant or like someone who uses this site for attention or something.  I just hoped you guys could help me out:) You can also message me privately!
Silver she was that tiny star
Far up in the heavens
Silver tips upon her shoes
And brighter by far
Through all the hours
A night-light in the blue.

Love Mary ***
multi sumus Aug 2018
Hand upon the
nape
   Sweetened
kisses are taken
  Derobing to reveal
thy beauty.

                        With throat grasped
                           Stealing the taste
                        from your lips
                           Stripping the
                        covering that hides
                        you
.

   Gentle your body
lain upon the pillow
silk and soft be
the binding.

   Marks of
rememberance
remain by subtle
suckings cascading
towards the basal.

                         By hands command
                          your form is cast
                          upon the floor
                         Bound that escape
                          be denied.

                         Nibbles
                        turn to bites leaving
                         soothing bruises as
                         descent is begun
                         unto the nethers
.

Whimpered whispers
echoe as your
suppleness
undulates in rythms
patterning the lappings

Quivering awaiting
such satiation.

                              Muffled screams
                              break the violent
                              silence as your
                               writhing body
                         calls to the lashings

                          In anticipation you
                             quake seeking a
                               reprieve
.

   And with each passing moment your taste grows sweeter still
   Enticing me with every stroke

                   Pace quickens!
                    Air thickens!
                   Flesh stiffens!
           A last gasp and then
!...

                  INTERRUPTION

Tongue swirls and
tender kiss upon
the thigh, Soon my love
soon you will find
content and deep are
the sighs from within.

                              Skin swells from
                       the sting, Permission
                      has not been granted
                        for your release and
                         heavy is the breath
                          that escapes
.

And gazing upon
such a vision as the
candlelight refracts
within the salted beads
formed upon the skin.

Hand found nestled
enveloped by the
succulence, Softly
caressing now wetted
and warm.

                         And while savoring
                          your slavery sweat
                           pools beneath
                       reflecting the flames
                          throughout.

                   ­          Quick slip fingers
                            within, Beckoning
                             come hither as
                             thumb rubs firm
                             upon the shroud
                      while palm drips full
                            and overflows
.

The time is near
that your freedom
be found for now
loosened be your
desire.

                       It is now the offering
                              is demanded!
                        Present to me your
                          gift upon this altar
!

   Hands hastened as tips tickle bringing closer the moment
   Moans escalate to howls announcing your forthcoming
   And upon the pinnacle i sit awaiting your arrival

   Unable to contain with body bowed and exhaustive breath, A last cry and...

   Explosions unseen before as flesh trembles in ecstacy


               And i, i am found

Collecting your
essence that my
thirst be quenched.

                         Receiving the sweet
                              amrita as my
                                   libation
.

     And leaning to kiss the tears from your cheek i whisper
                "Once more?"
With a silent nod you agree...


Ahh My Dear, The night is still young, And this is merely the beginning of your pleasures
.
Francesco Bianco and his Wage-Stock Men,
In keeping current with their Rooting Age
Built his Charity on a Stone-House then
As Leisure played a better word for Rage
Not much for Surplus Capital enjoyed
At least for some Tips won by droplets fall
That petty, really. Plus some Papers browsed
For those Picklings shared by survey and toll
Yes, the Compliment of those Blue-Bloods past
Of only their Musk to commensurate
Eve bowed out; Abel only if Forecast
By Cain and his Friends allowed him too late.
You would wonder how such Time could afford
And invest your Years for such brisk Concord.
KE Aug 2018
My body is an ocean.
It's all curves and wave and swirls and caves, my body is an ocean.
My body brings commotion to the motion of the air.
It splashes and flop and tips and tops.
My body is calm.
It's unbothered and not dove into.
My body is an attraction.
An ocean view from far beyond.
My body is ocean.
It's clear blue brings a sunny sky and what knows who.

Just don't fill me up with trash and thrashes of lashes and
Cold hard plastic in my body.
Don't make up lies and tell people I'll drown you with my thighs and not my heart.
Don't call me out for my body and make up unforgettable lies because I'm not all hurricanes and stucked up whirlpools and typhoons full of disaster.
I'm not the hurricanes taking away homes and children.
I'm not a ocean waiting to happening.
I'm not polluted or full of lead, making my feeling undrinkable and my tears unmeaningful.

I'm an ocean full of hope and adventure.

My body is an ocean,
An ocean free to swim in.
September Roses Sep 2018
Did you know you sound blue
That I feel yellow when you laugh
That your small hums make the air orange

Did you know your handwriting is pastel
And the way you run your hands through your hair is aqua marine
And the way you walk is every shade of neon

Did you know that when you fidget I see sparks of silver
And your smile is scarlet red
And that when you look at me
I feel violet in my finger tips

Did you know that you are the number 7
Or that I smell amber when I read your name
Or that I can't call you just one,
Because every colour comes to mind
Whenever I think of you
Francie Lynch Jul 2018
The hair is almost normalized,
The hands we hardly notice,
Real news is, with my ensemble,
A red tie splashes well.
I bear your false witness,
The hookers and the lies,
I'd get the heebie-jeebies,
If I ****** with the FBI.

But the skin, the skin,
What color's that,
That hides the blackness found within.
That wraps a frame that wracks the sane,
And covers a skull with dubious brains.
It conceals the bloated air,
From lungs to lips,
From bowels to his finger tips.
It doesn't matter how his fits,
It can't conceal he's full of ****.
Tommy Randell Nov 2014
A Sea-horse embryo
250 gms Salmon Trout scales
2 doz. assorted Lizard tail-tips
1 Bottlenose Dolphin eye-socket (empty)
The ****** organs of a female Atlantic Grey Seal
Dried, trimmed frond-tips of Strawberry Beadlet Anemones
A Complete Lesser Sand Eel
15 cm Curled Octopus tentacle
3 Gribble in a 10 cm groyne section
3 Rabbit tongues (in aspic)
1 ear of Marram Grass (in Lindesfarne Mead)
35 sq. cm Basking Shark hide, 7x5
A Merlin's upper mandible and crown
Severed nail and cuticle of Collector's left thumb.
tabitha Jul 2018
always take your shoes off before you cross a threshold
         if you do this, the monsters under your bed will be
            no more.
              you've been carrying your dirt around with you
                leave it at the door
                  or else all the tiny microbes that live in the gutters
                    and trash-smudged curbs will fall off
                       like snowflakes down to the floor

wear your face mask
wash your face
don't eat too much sugar

hold yourself center                        
        losing your balance has dramatic repercussions
           your mother and her motorbike depend on it
             getting around depends on it

be grateful for the sun and getting to be outside
       buildings do not satiate the wild within
         when the sun kisses your face, feel loved

don't drink the tap
try to keep your bones intact
keep your eyes open

find the fancy expat-owned markets
      dig through their trash late at night
        they are wasteful
          their trash could be your treasure

speak and laugh as loudly as you want
      set the bar high, so that growing up doesn't make you silent
        the world should know that you are here
          you're so beautiful

wash your dishes
sweep your floors
always lock the door             

don't forget that there is more splendor outside these cityscapes
      don't forget that there is suffering all around this place

translate earnestly and graciously for your elders
       for some ****** reason my native tongue is the lingua franca
         and your parents hired me to help you bridge the gap
           i am here because you are the future
             and not because of anything you did
               so be polite about it
                 and don't forget where you started
i am an english teacher in hanoi, vietnam. i teach children. not only is teaching an enriching and fascinating experience, but teaching (and subsequently learning about) the children of another culture is.... doubly interesting. they're darling and sweet and bright. anyways, i fell into teaching this one class halfway through their term. it's a science class, and i am not a science teacher. so it's been humorous, to say the least. the last lesson in the course is "survival skills", and i'm supposed to teach them how to pitch a tent, and forage for food. but this is hanoi, a massive city. there is no way to forage for food unless you're digging through the trash or stealing from a farm, and no recreational camping grounds. when are these city kids ever gonna use that? a lot of these kids never even leave. i'm not doubting its useful to know, it's just ironic. and it got me thinking. so, since i'm a procrastinator, i wrote this poem instead of working on the actual lesson plan. a list of survival tips i think to be more useful and fitting for their situation. i'm gonna go do the actual lesson plan now.
multi sumus Dec 2018
Primed for the next evolution in Our intimacy as the taste of Your succulence still lies upon my lips

   The faint sound of the straps clicking confirming Your submission

   While nothing shall escape from Your whicked tongue as it too is confined to its domain

   For Your flesh now belongs to me and will be subjected unto my craft

   And being it is Our first time i shall be... gentle

                        Let Us begin


   So as the bees labours are not in vain
honey sweet the sting of molten wax upon tips of swollen *******...
   Forming to Your perfection

Hmmm, Beads...
    Slow and by number they prepare Your willing vessel for the upcoming paedicatio devastation

   By shimmered form and whetted edge
barbering to reveal Your plump and pulsating labium emanating  
such divine nectar and heaven scent

   A well placed smack stiffens further

   Fingers, Licked tips, Essence enticing the tongue

   Points are pressured, some by pin, a resonating growl signals your approval as i begin my descent

   Insertion immersion into Your cavity depravity is not bound and determined am i to please You

   Only Your eyes speak to me and deep be their gaze
   Deeper still the *******
hesitation between thrusts
i must!..

   The profound sound of the pounding astounding to the ears it's clear another offering will soon be presented incentive for the continuation of Our journey

   With the escalation of Your cries as thighs quake...quivering...releasing a moan of satisfaction and once again my thirst slaked

            Oh how i long to fill You
                        feel You
                       saturated
                        satiated
               by Your silken flesh
                        i confess
         it was You i wished to bind
                       now i find
                            it is i
                        enslaved
                         in mind
                        my body
                        and soul
              with Yours entwined
                       in rapture
                     im captured
                  and so inclined

            i removed the bindings
                          finding
                      ­    myself

                        reminded
                           hiding
                   emotions are felt

                          Our time
                         im biding
                      to knees i fell

    before You...eternally in servitude.


   Mmmm..The warmth of breath upon the nape..

   With tender kiss..

   A soft embrace..

  Long has it been since last ive known such pleasures

   And may long be the Love We make....
Sebastian Macias Mar 2018
Sitting a top a cold mountain
I was thinking to myself
As I had my eyes shut,
Wrapped in warm clothing
Bottle  of whiskey at my feet
Listening to the eagles soar,
The trees swaying,
The clouds sweeping through
I imagined this warm feeling
Her, laying there naked
Velvet sofa with a book in hand
Legs wide open and tanned
She was so pure so clean
She bare her beauty to me
Soft delicate skin raised my hairs
I could maul her with my thoughts
But I decide to just eat her
Eating between her soft legs
As she read and drank champagne
Moaning after each sentence she read
She would put strawberries in my mouth
As I licked away at her lips
I dipped my strawberries inside her
Since I had no whipped cream
I was stone and she was flesh
An energy so pure in the night
Then, I opened my eyes
In front of a fire, I sang
"To hold you at my fingers tips,
To cherish the gold in the world,
To be set free forever in my mind"
Carmen Jane Mar 1
You can hold only the tips of my fingers
As my thumb brushes your entire hand
This silky touch, at once, our hearts triggers,
Etches my mind , becomes my soul's brand
jane taylor Apr 2016
in the midst of an emerald slumbering forest
laced with pungent scents of jaded wood
a burgundy blushed tail
of a chestnut hued fox
scurries as copper sunbeams part the day

a hospital lumes starkly nearby
its aura exudes hints of melancholy
commingled with faint impressions
of halcyon futures
not yet lived

at neighboring dartmouth
a student sprinting to class
drops his crimson colored backpack
the prospect of cancer
far from his budding consciousness

my beloved sits patiently
pondering pensively
his last chemo treatment
elusion of death
not far from his mind

i feign to fend off future catastrophes
watching letters scramble across my screen
earnestly writing
in a desperate attempt
to be with him forevermore

an aquamarine hummingbird drenched in tranquility
senses the inverse
its amber tipped wings stand seemingly stationary
while it steals a quick glance through the window
curious at chemical infusions meant to heal

my beloved walks out
of the austere building
with rose colored glasses i feel
that we’ll whirl on the tips of gilded stardust
dancing with another chance to fly


©2016janetaylor
Rick Apr 2018
Place the tips of your fingers against your throat and feel the rapidly increasing beat branding your skin. Trace where lips of her's once pressed softly against flesh and allow that forgotten message of unconditional love to seep in. Don't you yearn for it with upmost desire? Doesnt it burn like a rod which has been left in fire?
Then, when the boiling blood is cooled, and that rods been dipped in water causeing steam to rise. When the excitement ends with pain, and you remember how you forced from your mouth a goodbye. Remember that she will never be too far. On your neck lay her lips in the shape of a scar.
JS CARIE Apr 2018
During her blood moon was the best time to make her moan,
make her legs shake and weak,
Feel her scratch down my arms and peel up my skin
Only 3 days it would last
but during those periods...
she would release multiple times
With the red moons spawn
a bear in the woods would evolve,
hunting her flood through a blessed disaster
finding what I was after,
in a late night spatter
Her finger tips hiding
the stake in my pants,
she'll soon be riding
In these moments I feel a crave,
a longing to misbehave,
Within blankets and sheets we inhabit this cave
Our leveled off breathing
will not reveal harm
Take shelter in the warm of more than apparent
and reside until morning in the arms of the inherent
ConnectHook Oct 2018
Q-Tips raised! Their storm approaches.
Swab those ear-gates free and clear.
Thunder frightens the rats and roaches.
Looming clouds are drawing near;
Audible anticipation
Waxes with our rising nation.

Hope-**** is the thing with feathers
flying low, right before the gale.
Strident left-wing get-togethers
Do their best to countervail.
Tribunals herald something worse . . .
Enjoy some popcorn with my verse.

Martial law—a new diversion,
Flapping wings on the Left and Right
Disturbs the coop (or coup?). Subversion
now displays its plumes outright.
Deep-state angels prove satanic
sparking upper-level panic.

Rumors can be quite arresting.
Cresting waves on the Psy-Ops sea
Break and roll, now manifesting
Dumbed-down mobs, conspiracy . . .
Some citizens awake to truth;
The rest rave on, benighted youth.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gfrGbax6j9I
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