"twinkie" poems
Clock arms ***** upward
while the sleepers lie in their beds
thoroughly wet dreams
soak the ***** thoughts in their heads
Mothers obsessed with 7:00 am alarms
rush their ***** teenagers to designated stops
while a rising yolk shines bright
in eyes of sleepy pupils who wait for
a ******* on wheels
to shuttle them to institutions
addicted to #2 pencils
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 6:43 PM UTC
The neo-noir carnival
The black light circus
Is pulling me into uncertainty
Stretching me like spaghetti
While their ******* defense
Goes twinkle twinkle on the patio
And I'm still on the fence
About everything
As Andromeda collides with the Milky Way
The people below think it's just
A very bright day
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 8:42 PM UTC
im full of my self
a cacophony
of unsavory menacing
radiating ideation's
of the twilight
color me
darkness
when ever i see
six six six
i always think
*** *** ***
petition the church
for my exorcism
cleans me oh lord
i need an enema
purge me
of small thoughts
and big talk
perhaps
i could be good
like
nice weather
a phone number
or
a
*******
Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 7:03 PM UTC
Sometimes I dream of that night.
I think if it wasn't summer, everything would have been different.
But it was just so hot.
In my dreams,
the world is an oven.
I'm baking, roasting, broiling.
It was 108 degrees that day,
80% humidity.
Someone was once acquitted on the ******* defense.
Isn't the heat defense just as good?
If it wasn't so hot,
I wouldn't have done it.
But it was.
And I did.
And secret number two,
I'm not sorry.
Nov 2, 2011
Nov 2, 2011 at 9:05 PM UTC
Everyone thinks I'm quiet,
Shy, with very little to say.
They might even think
There's nothing going on upstairs
Because of my silent stare.
But if they'd sit down with me
Over a nice cup of tea
I'd tell them tales of *******
Fluffy, Caesar, and Fang.
I'd weave in stories of Polly,
A-town, and tar-babies.
I'd tell them what it's like
Balancing between the worlds
Of a mixed racial identity.
First love and heartbreak,
Triumphs and failures,
Cheesy puns and knock knock jokes,
Triumphs, woes, and despairs.
I have words for all these things,
If anyone would lend an ear.
Silence doesn't mean we have nothing to say.
All of us have much to say,
When we have someone to listen.
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 10:12 PM UTC
hello Edvard. i have no umbrellas for your armaments .
only your conspiracy and the last ******* ink dark thinking.
bright charlatans engrossed in their glib de menthe.
no harm in it.
only your heresy is more beautiful than blinking. wink dark slinking -
into frightful. hooligan moons blast evening. again, we miss.
no heart in it.
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 12:05 PM UTC
I ate a ******* today.
It was the second ******* I've ever had,
and probably the last one
I'll ever have.
These things were supposed to last
for ******* ever.
They were supposed to outlive
the apocalypse
but now they're
pretty much
gone.
If you think this is some metaphor
for the impermanence of
humanity, or for that teenage
lover you wanted to give yourself
over to, forever,
or for lazy Sunday afternoons
when the world just
floats
on
by,
you are
correct.
We live our lives by impermanent things
we tie our life-lines to twigs
that will snap at the first sign
of the wind. I cannot
un-break your heart,
or tell you that these
things are
unimportant.
They are important.
They are as
important as daydreams, as childhood,
as light and air and food
and water.
But they will not last
forever. They are less eternal
than the footprints you leave
in wet concrete:
those will still be there
in the morning.
And if I cannot tie our impermanent
physicality to the fate of
the last ******* on Earth
in a strange metaphor,
then I do not deserve
to have eaten it at all.
Feb 3, 2013
Feb 3, 2013 at 7:32 PM UTC
She isn't beautiful,
She's the glint on dew
The sparkle on a star
The new shine on a just waxed car,
Too little too few
Are my words dutiful
To describe
This beauty exponential
Her smile's vibe,
New world order potential,
Brain to the Pinky
Her body's curves so slinky,
Twists and turns
Are jealous
How she burns
Into retinas
The sultriest of patinas,
More overzealous
Than the sun
Smoking hotter than a gun,
At least she will never expire
Like the Hostess *******
I'm burning from her fire,
Can feel it all the way to Helsinki...
© okpoet
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 3:39 PM UTC
Baby you're my candy
my private tootsie roll,
cause I love to drive you crazy
as I tongue your little hole.
Baby you're my *******
so soft and full of cream,
pressed up hard against my lips dear
as my tongue your innards ream.
Baby you're my taffy
with teeth I love to pull,
just to taste your salty tang dear
when my mouth is oh so full.
Baby you're me sucker
don't give me any stick,
just hold it to my lips dear
and then watch this sucker lick.
Baby you're my candy
your sugar and your sweet,
and like this here collection
you're good enough to eat...
out.
Mar 5, 2012
Mar 5, 2012 at 8:12 AM UTC
Oh no, dear Wonder boy
What happened to your wealth?
I walked down your isle today,
And scanned the starving shelves
Your "immortal" gold ******* has vanished,
And a famine has wiped out your bread
White powder collects in the corners,
Of a skeleton that's now nearly dead
A **** of flower erases your tracks
And just like that,
You're toast
--Christian J. Clark
Nov 28, 2012
Nov 28, 2012 at 11:25 PM UTC
Your heart is a clock; each beat a tick closer to midnight. But what happens at 12:01 when the world doesn’t stop and the clock’s run out but you keep hearing it beat and beat and beat until there’s just a melody? Just a melody floating in space, no time to guide it, no heart to keep it, no body to dance with it? What happens when you’ve perished but are timeless, half life over and radioactive all at once?
I’m sitting on a shelf with an old expiration date and yet buyers are still looking, still considering. I could go. I could move today, right now, this second, with this breath. But I am not now ripe, yet ancient and withering. Youngest of them all, older than the rest. I am the moment between waves, when the water flees the shore and the sand and shells believe they are dry and safe, but I know, I know, the wave is coming, much stronger, but no one believes me because I am too young to know, too young to have seen the previous waves. And yet I know. Because I am eternal. Midnight passed for me; It’s 12:01 and the stars are still shining and I’m waiting for dawn, even when no one else believes in dawn anymore.
There is a body beyond the door next to me. He listens at the door, he peers from the dark, and he watches and he learns. He is the buyer considering. I am the expired ******* that has no brethren to follow, yet will never mold. I am always viable, a cockroach among mammals. I am different. This does not make me valuable. This makes me dangerous, this makes me another rat in the race, because the paw prints next to me also belong to a different rat, but he is not dangerous. I am dangerous. I am eternity in a cell, screaming with insanity because I know, I know, there is a melody floating in space without any time and I hear beating, beating, beating all around even after the clock has stopped and it’s 12:01 and midnight was supposed to be the end but I found the back cover of the book and kept walking.
Your heart is a clock. Mine is a time bomb.
Mar 30, 2013
Mar 30, 2013 at 2:05 AM UTC
Oompa loompa doopity doo, I've got another puzzle for you. If a fatty rolls down a hill, How many times will you hear that fatty squeal? Oompa loompa doopity dee, If you guessed 9, you get a *******
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 3:58 AM UTC
Religion is mans 'Twinkie' after a hard
week of deceit , bigotry , infidelity and denial ..
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 6:24 PM UTC
Change for the better comes hard for most of us so we go the easy and reckless ways we’ve been taught…
Processed to pleasure our favorite foods, no regulations and absolutely no safety rules..
Modified cornstarch, mono dextrin and sugar affects us like ******* Another snack, another drink, I like my toxins plain, indeed I spend my food stamps on Coca-Cola and sugary things!
Bushels and bushels of fruits fortified with fructose! Lactose is is making us fat, and now our hearts have extra plaque.
There’s nothing safe on the shelfs at our stores, smell those baked goods near the front door.
Thank goodness, we have insulin to remove the sugar from our blood… There’s no need to resist the seed oil sludge. Oh yes and secondary moments that last too long, waste no time trying to get strong. I’ll have another ******* and a box of those delicious Dingdongs!
Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 8:36 AM UTC
I love how she feels, I love more, how she tastes
Everything about her, puts a smile upon my face
Some poets eschew their love, in lines and words exposed
I'd like to think I've garnered mine, her cream, upon my nose
Oh how she drives me to ferocity, as I'm consuming way too much
eating so voraciously, her grasped, within my clutch
I know it's not that good for me, it's not all of what it seems
devouring my cream filled cakes, a Hostess ******* dream
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 1:15 PM UTC
so one time i was using my **** whacker
and suddenly, a brown gopher appeared
the gopher said that if everything is poetry,
then a panda **** is the best poem ever written
maybe the tree branches and the sky like to talk to each other
i wonder if they're into bird watching
but honestly, I would bird watch the hell out of the sky
and eat a ******* while doing it
I want to say hi to you
& show u my quarter collection
there is a tunnel and a dog barking
Sometimes the cleverest person is an idiot.
Aug 17, 2017
Aug 17, 2017 at 9:43 PM UTC
Sweet
take a peek
white beneath
caramel spongy spreadable
peep
sugar sweet
pixie treat
lick the center
preserv-ed member
it's true.
but it's not good for you.
Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 11:20 AM UTC
We all need someone in which who can help us up
After hitting the ground... This "Plane Crash"
My friends mended the "wreck" and refilled cheer's cup.
To this toast that I give to them.
A pride filled moment.
Where I looked into the mirror and decided to confront
the blind and sick child that has secluded himself inside.
The child was rescued..
The child was fed.
He was truly hungry.
Until I gave this shy kid some tea and a *******
Naked and Vulnerable
I now walk high and a lot more dry.
See this "Outer child..."
He succeeded.
In his sunlight.....He shall warm another
He sees hiding inside you...
Making another comrade
In this "Army" of "The High and Dry"
Inner children. A playground.
We seek fun......a reward for hard work...
Now we are kinder men and ladies.....
Never standing upon our pedestals
And Acting like an "Emotional" "Inner" ****
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 8:20 PM UTC