"vigorous" poems
Revenge is sweet
Like the taste of a candy
When you first tasted it
Revenge is bitter
As bitter as medicine or
Maybe bitter than that
They said revenge is best served cold
They also said that revenge is as sweet as sugar
Basically revenge is a sugary ice cream
Well for me
A revenge is like sweet honey
Hostile than bitter gourd
A bittersweet revenge
One that hurts and vigorous
At the same time
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 8:51 AM UTC
flower whose well fed,
which love and happiness was led
to dance with the wind
with the free mind
are either lucky, or unfortunate,
as the joy feed by their love ones,
could affect them nor normalize
it's their choice not to value things,
and to accept things as it is
you're either a rose or a sunflower,
you may be an azalea, but you're still a flower,
and it's your choice to be a vigorous flower,
or to be a wilted flower
Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 11:11 AM UTC
Life caught a baby eagle:
Injured, alone and named Hope.
Fell from a tree; would have
Ended Hope's days probably.
To bring him home wouldn't be
Entering Hope into the
Chaotic world of men,
Home of addiction to
New coined technology
On making men's work easy?
Life didn't has a choice though;
On Hope's left wing was a
**** as big as her index
Yet to be healed by Psyche next.
In the home, with Life's mother
Night and into the day,
Neighbors in and pushed out,
Over the wing they both worked.
Vigorous task it might be,
A life of a bird depend,
Together they had made
Impossible into
Optimistic victory:
New metallic wing awaits the world.
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 12:03 PM UTC
An Epithaliamium
So Man, grown vigorous now,
Holds himself ripe to breed,
Daily devises how
To ********* his seed
And boldly fertilize
The black womb of the unconsenting skies.
Some now alive expect
(I am told) to see the large,
Steel member grow *****
Turgid with the fierce charge
Of our whole planet's skill,
Courage, wealth, knowledge, concentrated will,
Straining with lust to stamp
Our likeness on the abyss-
Bombs, gallows, Belsen camp,
Pox, polio, Thais' kiss
Or Judas, Moloch's fires
And Torquemada's (sons resemble sires).
Shall we, when the grim shape
Roars upward, dance and sing?
Yes: if we honour ****
If we take pride to Ring
So bountifully on space
The ***** of our long woes, our large disgrace.
8.8k
Arriving at the entrance of the ancient temple the white rabbit covered his ears. Shattering glass from a high-pitched vibration he leaped away from a falling chandelier.
“I must find our beloved Harvest Moon."
The white rabbit said to himself. With stern affirmation, a dark fog churned then into the vortex he was consumed.
He stopped at the entrance of the temple courtyard; everyone was frozen like statues.
"What has she done to all of you?"
He cried, then pulled out a magic rune deflecting a hail of daggers. The white rabbit looked up at a floating cocoon and saw the shadow witch hovering over the temple roof. Pale skin and veins glowing red, she was draped in a black tattered robe. With a sinister look and a Crown of Fire on her head the shadow witch spoke.
“White rabbit, white rabbit the Harvest Moon is dead!"
The white rabbit took leaped back then cried out.
"This cannot be so!"
Then he pulled from his bag a magic scroll and read the words written in gold.
"I ask the wind to protect me from this dark magic despair"
Then he conjured a circle of trees in a water globe. The witch streaked across the air and swung around her jet-black hair. Then she commanded an infestation of spiders to climb inside the trees and explode. Barricading himself inside a magic bubble he was protected from the onslaught of shrapnel. The white rabbit grabbed the water globe, leaped into the air, and disappeared in a puff of amber smoke. The shadow witch pulled out a blood-red pearl and murmured an incantation.
"Clever white rabbit, I shall find you in the invisible world"
The white rabbit snapped his fingers then magically appeared behind her. He snatched off the Crown of Fire from her head then whispered the following words.
"How dare you use dark magic on me!"
She jumped in fear spinning around, then summoned a devil hound. The white rabbit raised the water globe and merged it with the crown. A shock wave of light pulsated in the air then the witch menacingly yelled.
“Take him down!”
The white rabbit saw in his peripheral view the hound lunge to attack. But he was too cunning for this, with a symbolic wave and a vigorous slash the hound was severed in two.
The shadow witch glared, then cried out.
“We shall meet again white rabbit; I promise you I'll be back!”
Then she summoned a fiery cauldron and vanished with a blinding flash.
The white rabbit ran inside the temple and approached the Harvest Moon. He stared with eyes full of tears and sorrow at a beautiful princess with hair long and blue. A beautiful creature he so desired, the love he had for her was true. He opened his bag and pulled out the globe which was now encased with the Crown of Fire.
"I brought you a gift from the shadow witch"
Then he smashed the globe and with a flash of light, the Crown of Fire was finally free. The white rabbit held the princess and spoke.
"I have always served you because I love you and now, I command you to come back to life!"
Then he placed the Crown of Fire on her head igniting a ring of light. The white rabbit looked down to see the Harvest Moon Princess opening both of her eyes.
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 12:04 AM UTC
first I smell myself.
the deep bass tonality of my musk,
hot, creamy, sweetness unique, of coffee and creamy,
my owned sweat oiled secretions massaged into her skin
emplaced by vigorous parts rubbing and tongue caressing,
under the fading shadows of my glancing, desirous admirings
then I smell herself.
sinking sunset glimpses of last nights parfume parfait,
scattered in random strategic locations architecturally planned,
some flavors come over me like modest waves,
others spelunking found in crevices, cracks and caves,
where humans tread in guileless search of guiltless pleasure
then I smell our sharings.
lemon and thyme, paprika, sea salt and pepper,
a basted rub laid upon animal skin consuming, and consumed,
the vinaigrette balsamic and California yellow raisins, pine nuts,
decorating leaves of red soil spinach and spicy arugula,
word salads, so miraculously ingenious, you swear off eating flesh
then I smell our combinations.
the air conditioned atmosphere that blends us properly chilled,
the olive oils pressed from two colored differing skins,
the mortal and pestle finely grinding our own fresh crumbled dirt,
appearing in places where dirt is wet panko crumbs encrusting us,
our combined liquidity, shaken and stirred, drying in martini tandem
it is 8:17am and this recipe of reciprocity,
at its most pungent peaking,
for soon raining waterfalls of potable city water
and the sophistry of French soap,
the pseudoscience of modern chemical shampoo,
together erasing, scrubbing away this poems aromatherapy tapestry,
your perplexed complexing nostrils will mock you once more,
for ever disbelieving, thinking you could no longer write of
only love poetry that crested high above the trite
Friday, March 29 2019
Mar 29, 2019
Mar 29, 2019 at 8:40 AM UTC
Patriotism is normal
alive and well
vigorous
flying high
Patriotism is voluntary
is love of
is love of country
is a love of and devotion for one's country
Patriotism is when love of your own people comes first
racism
more than flag
too often the refuge of scoundrels
Patriotism is as dogmatic as the old
a kind of religion; it is the egg from which wars are hatched
conviction that this country is superior to all other countries
no excuse for stupidity
Patriotism is alive in america
Aug 15, 2012
Aug 15, 2012 at 9:16 PM UTC
I hear a wind whispering from the hills
It comes down tickling the woodland rills
From far is heard the frightened murmur of leaves
As it pounces on them like wayside thieves
It shakes the branches of flowering trees
And their weak petals drop like confetti in the breeze
Over hills and trees it loves to skip and stray
Always in motion, never inclined to stay
It moves unhampered over streams and field
With no resistance to its might, they simply yield
Like a child, it romps over the sloppy meadows
In its gentle touch, dances the gleeful flowers
It skillfully pleats the blue chiffon of the ocean
Sometimes curling waves in electric motion
Over the sea it runs puffing up the sails
And over the sky heaping clouds in bales
Sometimes it steals furtively like a lover
And disappears kissing our cheeks under cover
Often it comes capering with a lilt and a swing
We feel delighted when we hear its merry song
Like a nomad, the wind roams from place to place,
Hiding its mysterious presence from our glance
From an unknown hide out it comes like a spirit
But always making us feel its vigorous might!
At times it gains force and roars like a beast
Felling trees and wreaking havoc with its twist
In rampage, it sweeps the sea and the ground
Triggering sparks of fear and horror all around
Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 9:43 AM UTC
Underneath this myrtle shade,
On flowerly beds supinely laid,
With odorous oils my head o’erflowing,
And around it roses growing,
What should I do but drink away
The heat and troubles of the day?
In this more than kingly state
Love himself on me shall wait.
Fill to me, Love! nay, fill it up!
And mingled cast into the cup
Wit and mirth and noble fires,
Vigorous health and gay desires.
The wheel of life no less will stay
In a smooth than rugged way:
Since it equally doth flee,
Let the motion pleasant be.
Why do we precious ointments shower?—
Nobler wines why do we pour?—
Beauteous flowers why do we spread
Upon the monuments of the dead?
Nothing they but dust can show,
Or bones that hasten to be so.
Crown me with roses while I live,
Now your wines and ointments give:
After death I nothing crave,
Let me alive my pleasures have:
All are Stoics in the grave.
4.6k
#
*Come explore my fantasy with thrills and spills galore.
Let’s check our inhibitions and our morals at the door.
It's colorful and vigorous (No "Fifty Shades of Gray").
The safe word will be "rainbow"...(You won't need it anyway.)
Because this fantasy's a realm where denizens can dwell
In peace and love and kindredship, where greed has lost its spell.
Within this dream of dreams we'll find our secret heart's desire.
And with it will come happiness that sets the heart afire.
A time to wake from bitter dreams and steer a course of grace.
And with this resolution, any crisis we might face.*
#
Jun 2, 2018
Jun 2, 2018 at 6:41 AM UTC
A little waiting
Some vigorous pushing
A quick look around
On a shaky ground
Grabbed the nearby seat
Some rest to the feet
In minutes squeezed inside
By a woman on the same ride
Awkward journey
The CON for cheap money.
Ticket punched
Some snacks quietly munched
Feel tall from the rest
I am in a red BEST
The driver is in a hurry
I smell some fish curry
Over a bridge
Some dogs cringe
Music for my ears
No more travelling fears
Nothing gone wrong
Now I feel strong
My stop is next
Replying to a text
Trip a little but its okay
I think it’s a good day
The red bus brakes
My balance shakes
I fly right on the drivers grill
With my face drilled
All eyes on me
I can barely see
I shiver as I walk the stairs
No one even cares
People just want to get to their destination
And I stand numb at the bus station.
-Zainab Attari
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 8:04 AM UTC
**
A mole on left breast;
She belongs to full of life; vigorous,
Usually get what is needed
**
By
Williamsji Maveli
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 3:08 AM UTC
SPREADEAGLED
Bucharest,
*
Spread-eagled and naked
in her crop circle -
this one in a sunflower field:
she’s a wheel of limbs,
some sort of a ********
lusted after by the seed heavy
flowers bowing to her curves
like drooling surgeons.
*
She’s finished with running,
waiting for the fading light
to join the last of her loves,
faded with processed proclamations
of undying certainty
which were a little worse for wear
after courting
and checked into intensive care
soon after.
*
Love thought it had
ducked its obligations,
passed again
like a heavy goods train in the night,
shunted across the border
while guards waved it on;
interested only in sleep or beer.
*
But this time she’s making sure
love returns,
pays its duty and dues
and hits its target.
*
So, splayed
aryan and vigorous,
apeing a pagan
resurrection,
she waits
for the skydiver
who – with precision
confidence – happens
to be bearing down
on her charity target,
slowly filling her
with his ***** shadow.
*
She sunbathes under mirrors,
she’s a real
tough nut to crack.
I repeat myself into her.
Aug 29, 2012
Aug 29, 2012 at 11:09 AM UTC
780
The Truth—is stirless—
Other force—may be presumed to move—
This—then—is best for confidence—
When oldest Cedars swerve—
And Oaks untwist their fists—
And Mountains—feeble—lean—
How excellent a Body, that
Stands without a Bone—
How vigorous a Force
That holds without a Prop—
Truth stays Herself—and every man
That trusts Her—boldly up—
3.5k
I am not a princess
that needs to be saved.
I am a broken warrior,
a Valkyrie in distress.
An echo of a forgotten
strength that always comes
back in vigorous ways.
Sandoval
Jan 9, 2021
Jan 9, 2021 at 4:08 PM UTC
He grasps stardust in his
Hands
Sand they turn truly lovely
In one hand
The edges glint golden rusty and Brown they turn
The color of lovely shriveled late
Autumn leaves
They sink soundly to the ground
Smell of raw;
Earthy taste moist like rich bread and wine
So red his lips have not
The look of innocence
Stripped naked like bark chiseled wood
How I would love them forever
My vain endeavour
Still he lays partially
Amongst the blotchy patch of shade as
The
Tree
Lovingly sways
To the sound of his
Coos
Darling he sleeps as the Sheep watch over him
My little Sheppard boy
Dreamingly sound
May rippling waters of your subconscious mind settle to shore
Tides emerge in deepest
Blue
Violently crash into the
Crimson colored rocky edge of the
Stone face cliff
Now faced with thick
Cumulonimbus clouds that
Cloud the dawn's last fiery
Light
Streaks of lightening
Silhouette whip upon his
Face and like thunder the
Lions
Roar not in pain
But in vigorous anger as
The ringmaster bows at the
Choking applaud of the
Painted audience
The wind unweaves grassy tangles in your hair
Tormenting suitors
Tease;
You messily please
Imperfectly perfect that you are able to
Appeal as effortlessly
Dressed in natures blend
Like a jar of
Roasted nuts
Of assorted trail mix
Still
You lay there
Decorated in earth's blankets of roots Grass
Twigs leaves
Oh
How it hurts to leave
I'd sit here loving you
Instead
Twist peering down upon
Deepest desires
Swept in eternal sleep
Longingly
I join your slumber
Drift into dream where I
May wake up finding you
Beside me
Where sleep steals me upon
Your shoulder
Warmth of arms lightly
Grasped
Dawn red as a match in the
Distance slowly
Smothered
Surrendering to nights cold
Silence
But the stars
Whispers of compliments to
The moon
Each night loved you kindly
Each star a kiss upon your
Cheek
May the stars love you Sweeter than they have Loved me
But darling I've loved you
Forever
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 1:17 PM UTC
I. Apply foundation in a tone more perfect than the one you're born with,
doubt that there's anything beautiful in the term "natural"
blot your lips with the cherries you deprive yourself of
and wonder, "What good is difference when it's not appreciated?"
stop reading this.
II. Forget how you were born;
every freckle,
every beauty mark,
every uneven line etched into your face are nothing to be celebrated.
Deprecate yourself, you are unwound and beg this world to shape you in its eyes.
skip this line.
Society speaks subjectively of happiness, but fill your head with lies
that we're all pretty if we can keep up our disguise.
The weight of this world upon your shoulders,
alludes to being big as too much to handle.
Curl into everyone's palm as if you're so fragile,
they have to pinch the skin on your bones with the thumb and index finger.
stop.
III. Draw on the perfectly plump pout, filled with nothing but
expectations of everyone else.
Your beauty is not a privilege for anyone,
but judgment that has defined your worth.
skip.
Emprises that market upon your insecurities,
admire that solemn face in the mirror
as the reflection discourages you
at the acknowledgement of any impurities
Start.
How To Be Beautiful Lifelong
Admire the history that lives within the heartlines of your palms,
how strong you've grown, once cradled in your mother's arms.
Disregard where it is you've come from, but how much further you've journeyed forward.
I. Apply the sincerity in your best friend's voice when
she calls the time you've spent together, beautiful.
Do not doubt the splendor that comes from wisdom.
II. Every wrinkle you've earned,
as time gives back to you from lessons learned.
Blot your lips during the release of laughter
as saliva mists through the air,
your joy so vigorous
the ghosts residing in the graves
regret no more.
You are as you should be,
a composite of everything that gives you life
and grants you purpose.
Begging for this world to love you,
there is no fault in this desire.
They speak of happiness as if
it's only a potential-oriented concept,
Do not let your heart surround the gossip
or it's golden armor become bronzed.
III. Draw on the canvas of existence
in the brightest of hues, in the purest of love.
Filled with nothing, but expecations for yourself
say farewell to the darkness
open the curtains to light.
Your beauty is magnificent
as your name will be transcendent.
In each day we decide to be ourselves,
the poise presents itself.
—V.H.
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 11:15 AM UTC
~
*When Pharaoh
checked out at the Red Sea,
odd circumstance made a grab for his vacant scepter,
and kingdom collided
with plague to paint a mural
on the palace wall (or maybe, it was the hotel lobby),
of a dreamer's garden,
his wife in veils, her dance a cordial
invitation to a great many unmentionable things,
the feral sky had blown
itself out, and in muted candle
nightshade, the mistress of war disembarked,
and so somewhere
in those upper rooms, ruler
and consort, hearing the sound of running water,
mystified their carnal
senses by infusing themselves
with a little vigorous morphine of the soul*
~
Jul 26, 2021
Jul 26, 2021 at 2:45 PM UTC
In the black hills he lies,
in his old Kentucky home.
A passion within his mind,
burning, despite the cold.
He knows not what he is doing,
thinking with a mind that is not his.
He knows only that which can be known,
and that is all there is.
A wind is prevalent within him,
one that chills him to the bone.
Acting against his bitter nature,
he stares down an unknown road.
He swore he’d never act on impulse,
he swore he’d never lose his mind.
Focus was all he really had,
then she came into his life.
She takes away the security,
the way he knows so well.
But can she bring down his walls?
Time will only tell.
She entices him with greetings.
With her, he feels so close.
Still, he finds words escape him,
in the presence of a black rose.
No doubt that he fears change,
and he fears what could be.
He fears what he cannot control,
and she is vigorous and free.
Separated by a vast sea,
yet strangely together in heart.
He finds he knows not what to say,
so he watches it fall apart.
Act once on impulse,
Twice on intuition.
Act three is completely irrational,
But brings this to fruition
He tries to avoid reality,
because he knows what it holds.
He is absorbed within that passion,
to avoid all the cold.
In this old Kentucky home,
among the black hills, he lies.
Too fearful to take a chance,
He’s found his spirit has died.
And, so, by reaching out,
he is met with only scorn.
In reaching for that black rose,
he has only grabbed her thorns.
Jul 7, 2011
Jul 7, 2011 at 7:43 AM UTC
All I want is to be naked
I wish to be vulnerable
I'm encased in a web of emotive calamity
Trapped in cold stone and empty waves
Locked in materialism,
Social apathy suffocates me
I need air...
From the womb of modernity,
Claustrophobia is born
I gasp
I need to feel free...
I need to be held...
I need to be exposed...
This musty cell of modern depravity,
Vanity,
Pride,
Self-seeking,
Commercialism,
Disregard,
Apathy,
Greed,
Hate...
It chokes me with the foul stench of death
The scent that tells me darkness falls
I can see no virtue in this prison
A veil is pulled upon me,
And I'm engulfed in merciless dissociation
I need to drink crisp waters
From the fountain of harmony
I need to be caressed
In the warm ***** of compassion
I need to soar
On the vigorous gales of freedom
I need to be...naked
Strip me of possession,
Unravel my desires,
Hold me in your arms,
And let us be naked together!
Cast off allure of material treasure,
Come embrace your human pleasure!
Somewhere outside this dark room
Over the stone walls that encompass us,
There is a light that sings to me
I can break the walls and burn the bridge,
Cast aside the past of ego
And lead us to a world of dreams
Would you follow me?
Would you break the shackles of your possession?
Cast aside the love of things,
Replace it with the things of love?
Have we drifted so far apart as a people
That we have no room to breathe?
I think not.
This prison of emotive distress,
This cage of idiosyncratic routine,
This lockdown hysteria of need,
It's merely a base from which to start
The distance between us all
Only leaves room for us to grow
I can see the walls break down,
The old facades are wearing thin,
And I'm peeling away the trappings
Of things I thought I knew
But knew I never truly wanted
With them, walls will break
With them falls the cage
And through the coming of the things I see so clear
Like love and peace and harmony
Nakedness and connectivity
(No need for greed,
No need for possession)
I can see the walls tear down
And with their fall I know it's coming:
The day where all are free to fly.
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 2:32 PM UTC
Oh Bard, wielding a tool mighty and spiky
Mightier than either the sword or rod,
You reign as monarch in fancy’s domain
Sketching life in all variety and mode
Which with pain and strife fraught
Or bright with gaiety and grace
In finer yarn than the gossamer thread
On a fabric of words in befitting verse
You steal away from the noisy crowd
Into the stillness of the cloistered cell
To dwell with Fancy’s mystic charms
Weaving downy dreams at will
You recount forgotten tales of yore
Of ****** battles won and lost,
Of lovers united, amour defiled,
Conjuring memories from abysmal past
You hearken to the moans of lovelorn souls
And sing of beauty in ditties fine
Triggering sparks into flames grow
In umpteen hearts that pine and whine
Babbling with the brook rushing swift,
Racing with the deer loping past,
You wander into mysterious woods
Where flowers, their richest odors cast
Your ears intent on the song of birds
That comes floating from the far off groves
And the whir of cicadas on the bark of trees
Breaking the calm of twilight eves
Alone you saunter the stretching strands,
Watching virulent breakers in fury heave
Often your heart dancing with the tide
And swinging with the rhythm of rising wave
You feast on the gleam of the auburn sun
And the speckled blue of the infinite skies
Watching the day dying in flame
And the night in a diadem of stars vies
All that’s lovesome meets your eyes
And commune to you in profuse delight
Which you turn into rhyme and rhythm
For the whole of mankind to devour and digest
From your harp flow symphonies sweet
Songs of longing, love and lust
Of idyllic happiness, peace and bliss,
Fuelling hearts with vigorous zest
Though outlawed by the great sage of Greece,
Branding the poet, aberrant and a fool
Oft beneath the façade of his wayward thoughts,
Lie heaps of wisdom for the discerning soul.
Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 6:01 AM UTC
Who shall declare the joy of the running!
Who shall tell of the pleasures of flight!
Springing and spurning the tufts of wild heather,
Sweeping, wide-winged, through the blue dome of light.
Everything mortal has moments immortal,
Swift and God-gifted, immeasurably bright.
So with the stretch of the white road before me,
Shining snowcrystals rainbowed by the sun,
Fields that are white, stained with long, cool, blue shadows,
Strong with the strength of my horse as we run.
Joy in the touch of the wind and the sunlight!
Joy! With the vigorous earth I am one.
2.5k
All day yesterday was the best day of my life
Nothing went wrong, everything went right
Tracking all the factors that helped make it so
Reinvigorates me to continue with my goals
There’s a thought that returns, maybe coincidental,
But there is a common thread that is sequential
Early in the morning is when I first saw you
And at the end of the day you were in my rear view
So you were there with me from sunrise to sunset
Any moment we had together I never felt upset
No awkward instances, only natural feelings
No pressure to make myself seem more appealing
You make me feel like I’m almost where I need to be
To have something that you may one day need from me
Leisurely I will continue to approach the situation
Because this is a path that I want to keep straightened
At the prime of our lives for the time of our lives
We just have to be willing to hold on for the ride
Hopefully I’ll have you before the towel’s thrown in
Together we will laugh at what could have been
All the bullets that we dodged and the ones still lodged
Deep into our hearts, but they’ll seem like a mirage
Compared to the dreams that we’ve chosen to live
After each other’s hearts that we’ve chosen to give
It feels so strange to be so close to these emotions
I’m hopeful for the future, for once my mind’s open
To all of the possibilities that life could deal to me
I’m so thrilled to see what will be revealed to me
Whatever happens to me, I need you to be there too
Since I know with you there we could see it all through
I can’t recall a single bad day in which you were involved
Even in one of your foul moods I was still so enthralled
That’s just the kind of person I will always choose to be
Doing whatever it takes to always have you with me
Especially when extreme patience is all that’s required
I’ll work hard at this job, no way am I ever getting fired
Committed until I’m beyond the age of being retired
Whistling while I work until the day I might expire
One day, to all these thought you won’t be oblivious
One day I’ll pursue you with an attitude that’s vigorous
Until that day comes I’ll patiently wait off to the side
For an opportunity to make you my source of pride
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 4:03 PM UTC
One of his sick molars
was jarring, crying foul,
the root canal treatment
she did, the first, on him
made it quiet,it touched
exactly the love nerve.
Love sprouted,got rooted between
the curvy dentist and him
in exactly five sittings;
the soil was fertile.
The romantic dentist seized
his pining heart too quick,
the causes and effects of
that pain, she whispered, was similar
to what she felt , when he whimpered
leaning his head on her full *******
No reason he had, not to surmise
she didn't do everything she should,
to make his ailing tooth perfect.
Coochiecooing to her, he even
called her" the tooth fairy's baby girl"
overwhelmed she gifted him a smooch.
Each sitting fallowed
soliciting that rare,tender dental care,
on her cozy swiveling chair,
brought them closer to bouts of necking
and things more adventurous,
(may the medical ethics, pardon the pair!)
Vigorous narratives she breathlessly
reeled off, on the state of his each tooth
brought her more closer to the chair
than what professionally was expected,
her perfumed warm presence
brought aches, not necessarily dental.
A stinging pain on a root repaired
at a time his 'root canal sweet heart' was away
compels him to explore for a new chair.
The horror of horrors, it was revealed
here, a piece of broken iron implement
his sweet heart, has left within the root;
a cover up as she couldn't retrieve it
with her skills inept,
it did aggravate, caused the pain!
Isn't the betrayal of the kids,
in the name of tooth fairy,non existent
far less heinous, than a cheating like this!
could any one blame him for this,
to escape a bad tooth future, he did
the best one could; the comely tooth fairy
that found the fault and mended it
shows him his place in the
swivel chair of her heart these days!
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 9:02 AM UTC