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"wiping" poems
Moments Like ordering two mochas Just to watch you make them Forgetting your name five times Before getting your phone number Wiping chocolate off your shirt Trying unsuccessfully to flirt my way Out of spilling on you Little moments Like finally having the guts to ask you out Running to the coffee shop full speed Just to find out it was your day off Sulking my way through my third cup of tea Cursing the fates for their insolence Right until you walked in to cover someone else's shift And running out too scared again Little moments like those Remind me why I fight through Big times like these Little moments Like driving over the mountains To get to the first big storm Just to be the first ones to kiss in the rain After the summer sun chapped our lips so long We forgot the taste of our kiss Little moments Like the first time I took you out in heels And you spent the whole night Whispering to yourself about not falling Right up until I fell twice Down a flight of stairs And for you Little moments Like you running over to pick my head up Off the concrete Staring at me with this look That made me want to ask you if you were okay Little moments Like that remind me That the big times like these Are worth fighting for That the big fights like these Are worth ending If only for the shot to have one more Little moment Like A movie perfect scene in the snow With snow ball fights, snow angels And a snow man with coal for buttons Eyes, mouth, sticks for arms and a scarf But we didn't have a carrot So you ran upstairs, broke off one of your heels And called him Stalleto-face for a week Little moments Like Burning three attempts at chicken cord en bleu And begging the old woman on the phone To put in one more order before they closed And tipping $100 just to have the chance To eat midnight fried rice on the living room floor Because the table was full of Foiled attempts at cooking Little moments Like those So dear to me Remind me there is no fight too big To give up little moments with you
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Nov 18, 2009
Nov 18, 2009 at 4:58 PM UTC
Little Moments
Moments Like ordering two mochas Just to watch you make them Forgetting your name five times Before getting your phone number Wiping chocolate off your shirt Trying unsuccessfully to flirt my way Out of spilling on you Little moments Like finally having the guts to ask you out Running to the coffee shop full speed Just to find out it was your day off Sulking my way through my third cup of tea Cursing the fates for their insolence Right until you walked in to cover someone else's shift And running out too scared again Little moments like those Remind me why I fight through Big times like these Little moments Like driving over the mountains To get to the first big storm Just to be the first ones to kiss in the rain After the summer sun chapped our lips so long We forgot the taste of our kiss Little moments Like the first time I took you out in heels And you spent the whole night Whispering to yourself about not falling Right up until I fell twice Down a flight of stairs And for you Little moments Like you running over to pick my head up Off the concrete Staring at me with this look That made me want to ask you if you were okay Little moments Like that remind me That the big times like these Are worth fighting for That the big fights like these Are worth ending If only for the shot to have one more Little moment Like A movie perfect scene in the snow With snow ball fights, snow angels And a snow man with coal for buttons Eyes, mouth, sticks for arms and a scarf But we didn't have a carrot So you ran upstairs, broke off one of your heels And called him Stalleto-face for a week Little moments Like Burning three attempts at chicken cord en bleu And begging the old woman on the phone To put in one more order before they closed And tipping $100 just to have the chance To eat midnight fried rice on the living room floor Because the table was full of Foiled attempts at cooking Little moments Like those So dear to me Remind me there is no fight too big To give up little moments with you
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67
You come in late, wiping your lips. What did I leave untouched on the doorstep--- White Nike, Streaming between my walls? Smilingly, blue lightning Assumes, like a meathook, the burden of his parts. The police love you, you confess everything. Bright hair, shoe-black, old plastic, Is my life so intriguing? Is it for this you widen your eye-rings? Is it for this the air motes depart? They rae not air motes, they are corpuscles. Open your handbag. What is that bad smell? It is your knitting, busily Hooking itself to itself, It is your sticky candies. I have your head on my wall. Navel cords, blue-red and lucent, Shriek from my belly like arrows, and these I ride. O moon-glow, o sick one, The stolen horses, the fornications Circle a womb of marble. Where are you going That you **** breath like mileage? Sulfurous adulteries grieve in a dream. Cold glass, how you insert yourself Between myself and myself. I scratch like a cat. The blood that runs is dark fruit--- An effect, a cosmetic. You smile. No, it is not fatal.
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The Other
How is it that I never saw your wings when you were here with me? When you closed your eyes and soared to the Heavens I could hear the faint flutter of you wings as you left. Your body no longer on this side your spirit here eternally I see your halo shine. I close my eyes and see the multicolored wings surround me in my saddest moments and my happiest times. Mother my angel God has given you your assignment always my mother forever my angel. You fly into my dreams and when I am asleep I feel your wings brush against my face wiping away the tears I shed since I can no longer hold you in my arms but in my heart. You earned those wings dear mother and you will always be me angel eternal.
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Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 2:25 AM UTC
I Never Saw Your Wings
I remember our first kiss It was an accident & you wouldn't stop apologizing because you had one past too many to drink You were broken like a shattered glass bowl filled with your favorite kind of cereal & way too much milk As it fell to the floor, your heart dropped just as fast, immediately realizing that this couldn't be undone You'd have to clean up all of the glass & soggy bits of sugary flakes from the floor all by yourself with no help You cursed to yourself through clenched teeth & a closed jaw, tears daring to escape your eyes like the milk pouring & dripping over the sides of the broken bowl You swore off cereal all together because the agony of possibly breaking another bowl had your head & heart in a whirl of confusion & annoyance Slowly as you began to pick the broken pieces of glass from the floor, piece after piece being thrown away, this task you found a chore becomes more of a necessity that you didn't realize until the big mess was already created Wiping up the chunks of sugar & tossing them in the trash, a small smile curls at the corners of your mouth Pain runs through your veins, but relief washes over your core as you realize the worst is over The kiss that I remember was not of regret, but beauty I'm on this sugar high & I'm not sure I can come down But you don't want cereal anymore so I'll eat this bowl alone
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May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 11:21 AM UTC
Fifty . Sugar High Friendzone
i am seven and in your living room with antiques & photographs of family that are more like strangers and handshakes at christmas there is a jar of circus peanuts by the armchair and i remember being told that these are here because they are never out of stock and that *they are the only things children will not want to take from me* i still do not like the color orange. i am eight and round the bannister to an upstairs that reminds me of heaven in that place i can't go sort of way & i am knuckle deep in your pumpkin pie wiping it on my uncles suede jacket our hands still shake but the jury is still out on if he looks at me and napkins the same i hope you do not sleep with my apologies under your fingernails i will not say them out loud i know i should have mowed your lawn i should have been a home for second hand smoke if i could go back i would be your ashtray i remember the day you forgot who i was i bound into the room and throw my arms around you like an armistice and you ask who i am we are not in church but everyone stops singing i am passed from child to child while we all laugh but my lungs feel like they've been mugged in an ally who's son does he look like, mom? my father says like gospel you pull on your cigarette sip from your watered down wine and shrug and i am neck deep in forgetfulness i imagine alzheimer's as being born again every day so, we will spend ages looking at captions to photographs telling your stories to strangers as my father begins to forget and when i imagine probate an unfamiliar hand unfolding a will to be read to wayward angels i want to burn down the house and sleep in the ashes
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Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 3:00 PM UTC
hallelujah
i am seven and in your living room with antiques & photographs of family that are more like strangers and handshakes at christmas there is a jar of circus peanuts by the armchair and i remember being told that these are here because they are never out of stock and that *they are the only things children will not want to take from me* i still do not like the color orange. i am eight and round the bannister to an upstairs that reminds me of heaven in that place i can't go sort of way & i am knuckle deep in your pumpkin pie wiping it on my uncles suede jacket our hands still shake but the jury is still out on if he looks at me and napkins the same i hope you do not sleep with my apologies under your fingernails i will not say them out loud i know i should have mowed your lawn i should have been a home for second hand smoke if i could go back i would be your ashtray i remember the day you forgot who i was i bound into the room and throw my arms around you like an armistice and you ask who i am we are not in church but everyone stops singing i am passed from child to child while we all laugh but my lungs feel like they've been mugged in an ally who's son does he look like, mom? my father says like gospel you pull on your cigarette sip from your watered down wine and shrug and i am neck deep in forgetfulness i imagine alzheimer's as being born again every day so, we will spend ages looking at captions to photographs telling your stories to strangers as my father begins to forget and when i imagine probate an unfamiliar hand unfolding a will to be read to wayward angels i want to burn down the house and sleep in the ashes
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50
Axels and chains and Feet and brains It's the bicycle beats And the trees and the streets Join the lines in the sidewalk As I ride and I talk To myself, "Breathe in," & "Breathe out," -- Burning and churning to the Grooves and the cracks Red light's the only chance to relax Racing the bus and flashing a grin To the sorry folks trapping themselves therein Ecstasy building with each revolution Wiping my sweat away, tasting pollution Grinding and winding a path on my bike Where cars and pedestrians hate me alike
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Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 1:25 AM UTC
Bicycle Beats
If you'd been here When I was young, You'd not forget What we'd have done. We'd climb roofs, Jump in the river, ****** neighbour's pears, Then skedaddle, Laughing with sweat-matted hair, Wiping off those grown-up cares. We'd bumper-jump in four inch snow, And never let our parents know. Oh, such fun we two would do, If I could stay as young as you. We'd skate and bike, Play street ball, Act up in school, Stand in the hall; We'd hike with jars Along country brooks, Read and trade Our comic books. Lie in the sand, Burn in the sun, Forgetting it was time for home. We'd never tire of our treats, And often we'd forget to eat Because we're having all our fun: If you'd been here when I was young. We'd play Tag and Red Rover, Flags and Chase, Then have sleep-overs. We'd swap tomorrow For daily pearls, Then swap each other For pretty girls. We'd be up to our shenanigans, Sleep the sleep, Then start again. This is the way We'd have our fun, If you'd been here When I was young. But now you're here, And I'm much older, The things we'd do You'll do with others; But when you need a  boost to climb, This old man has a shoulder. Yes, I'll sure have lots of fun, For you're here now. That keeps me young.
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Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 8:55 AM UTC
If You'd Been Here When I Was Young
The sounding alarm starts the frenzy I hurry myself to shower and dress Slowing just for a moment To strategically place fragrant surprises For later explorations. Accelerating with all urgency I weave through the blockade of traffic Risking it all to preserve Each second, each minute, every moment of time For my waiting infatuation Flushes of excitement consume me As I near my destination I am overwhelmed with pulsating urges As I search for a way to impress you Show advanced appreciation Welcomed with a sensual eagerness Each of us knowing and wanting I ask "Can I play you a tune?" A Love song plays to a faintness As you bring me to satisfaction Then, Ascending to kiss me softly You wish me a good day at work. Wiping excess from your chin You smile and say "See you tomorrow." © Tina Thompson
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Feb 16, 2012
Feb 16, 2012 at 2:46 PM UTC
Morning's Past
superhero holding friendship I admire, I spectate , I watch and learn and notes I take On a thunderous beauty, on this breath taking sight Quivering breath at a mountains height Those close around I fear they might drown Terrified of what’s making change Terror stricken, I flip through pages that would never be re-written, never changed I’m waiting for struggle, for flailing arm for loneliness , peoples pulling up guards Fences that we build and view as our shields Just a horrible thing ,that wont let me in Misunderstanding transforming Now it’s a black mask of confusion, dooming I panic at thought spinning around Head is to full ,I feel for the ground Darkness threatening my light life I gasp for friendship and understanding Then you flew in with a quiet landing Tiptoeing around you lift me off the damp dirt Wiping the darkness of my clean world A new view of refuge, I need and needed you Just a boy with good intention Transformed into a superhero holding friendship. Together walking side by side we sort through what’s wrong and right We plan a way to save the drowning Climb fences and break through walls Tear down others guards I walk a walk , no longer alone in the dark. I have you.thank all that is good We stand were I stood I love you
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Feb 3, 2012
Feb 3, 2012 at 5:36 PM UTC
Superhero Holding Friendship
Everyone in me is a bird. I am beating all my wings. They wanted to cut you out but they will not. They said you were immeasurably empty but you are not. They said you were sick unto dying but they were wrong. You are singing like a school girl. You are not torn. Sweet weight, in celebration of the woman I am and of the central creature and its delight I sing for you. I dare to live. Hello, spirit. Hello, cup. Fasten, cover. Cover that does contain. Hello to the soil of the fields. Welcome, roots. Each cell has a life. There is enough here to please a nation. It is enough that the populace own these goods. Any person, any commonwealth would say of it, "It is good this year that we may plant again and think forward to a harvest. Many women are singing together of this: one is in a shoe factory cursing the machine, one is at the aquarium tending a seal, one is dull at the wheel of her Ford, one is at the toll gate collecting, one is tying the cord of a calf in Arizona, one is straddling a cello in Russia, one is shifting pots on the stove in Egypt, one is painting her bedroom walls moon color, one is dying but remembering a breakfast, one is stretching on her mat in Thailand, one is wiping the *** of her child, one is staring out the window of a train in the middle of Wyoming and one is anywhere and some are everywhere and all seem to be singing, although some can not sing a note. Sweet weight, in celebration of the woman I am let me carry a ten-foot scarf, let me drum for the nineteen-year-olds, let me carry bowls for the offering (if that is my part). Let me study the cardiovascular tissue, let me examine the angular distance of meteors, let me **** on the stems of flowers (if that is my part).. Let me make certain tribal figures (if that is my part). For this thing the body needs let me sing for the supper, for the kissing, for the correct yes.
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In Celebration of My ******
Everyone in me is a bird. I am beating all my wings. They wanted to cut you out but they will not. They said you were immeasurably empty but you are not. They said you were sick unto dying but they were wrong. You are singing like a school girl. You are not torn. Sweet weight, in celebration of the woman I am and of the central creature and its delight I sing for you. I dare to live. Hello, spirit. Hello, cup. Fasten, cover. Cover that does contain. Hello to the soil of the fields. Welcome, roots. Each cell has a life. There is enough here to please a nation. It is enough that the populace own these goods. Any person, any commonwealth would say of it, "It is good this year that we may plant again and think forward to a harvest. Many women are singing together of this: one is in a shoe factory cursing the machine, one is at the aquarium tending a seal, one is dull at the wheel of her Ford, one is at the toll gate collecting, one is tying the cord of a calf in Arizona, one is straddling a cello in Russia, one is shifting pots on the stove in Egypt, one is painting her bedroom walls moon color, one is dying but remembering a breakfast, one is stretching on her mat in Thailand, one is wiping the *** of her child, one is staring out the window of a train in the middle of Wyoming and one is anywhere and some are everywhere and all seem to be singing, although some can not sing a note. Sweet weight, in celebration of the woman I am let me carry a ten-foot scarf, let me drum for the nineteen-year-olds, let me carry bowls for the offering (if that is my part). Let me study the cardiovascular tissue, let me examine the angular distance of meteors, let me **** on the stems of flowers (if that is my part).. Let me make certain tribal figures (if that is my part). For this thing the body needs let me sing for the supper, for the kissing, for the correct yes.
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I hate death The slow menancing presence Always there Biding its time Counting down the time for us all Not letting us in on the big secret Not even a hint Just culling us when he deems our time has come My beautiful Nan She's given up She's not fighting anymore She's ready to be taken She's awaiting her flight leaving She's lost her lust for life She doesn't see all that's beautiful Just darkness and misery within her mind Her time is coming She's wishing it here She would probably be excited if she could muster the strength Like children wish for Christmas We all know he's coming Like an unwanted family member Never invited but has to come He will arrive when we least expect him Sneak in and take her from under our noses She will walk hand in hand with this well known stranger Enter the house I call home Like a thief and take my most precious possession The ticking of the clock counting down her time Counting down our time with her Removing the batteries changes nothing Every minute, a minute less Wiping tears away, calling out 'Cup of Tea, Nan?' Hoping she will answer
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Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 12:00 PM UTC
Tea
I've been telling my therapist about you. I've been trying to sleep, yet all that fills my head is you and her. You talking to her. A filthy wreck. I feel sorry for her. Me working into the early hours of the morning, watching a sunrise on the long drive back, me wanting to get home to you. You getting involved with her while I'm gone. You inviting her to the bar. Let me make you a drink. You could be wiping her lipstick away before I return, erasing her taste from your lips. I bet it's disgusting. I thought you hated dreadlocks. I've been going over and over in my head if this is what I'm worth. I know I'm not a looker.. My hair is messy, my clothes are ripped, I'm all marked up from the past. I thought my personality shone through that though. Sometimes though, I guess that's not enough. What hole do you need to fill? Please tell me. Please, oh please tell me why you knocked me down. Why am I not enough. I've been crying a little each day, then pulling it back together. I've been trying to still be that stone wall I always am throughout this horrible pain. I smell like cigarettes, you smell like lies. I've been telling my therapist about you.
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Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 11:06 AM UTC
Forgiving, Not Forgetting
she walked foot on each crack in the sidewalk the heel of her boot sinking and then her skin peels away turpentine wiping away the painting that is her mask and she walked she crumbled her bones dust come back you've gone too far, little girl the wind blows her away the sun cremates her memory and she is born again in the rain sprouting from between the cracks in the sidewalk and she walked
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Mar 30, 2013
Mar 30, 2013 at 12:36 PM UTC
Rebirth
Nearly twice as tall, And just as thin, You hold me in your arms, And the whole thing begins. "Today was just awful!" I cried into your shoulder, You kept me sane the entire time, My eternal holder , You helped me through my darkest days. You move me to the couch, And pull me farther in, I tried to resist your help, But I knew you'd always win. You wrapped your knee around me, Locking me in place, I never wanted to be free, From your loving embrace. Kissing the top of my head, You whispered comforting words in my ear, Saying they weren't worth getting this worked up over, Killing my fear. I wrapped my arms around your shoulders, Burying my face into your chest, I never knew a guy that would be any bolder, Then to hold me close and make the whole world disappear. A soft kiss on my lips, Wiping the stray tears from my cheeks, The warmth from the fire spreading over us, I hadn't felt this safe in weeks. Until you took me into those arms I felt as if I was hanging by a thread, But I know from your soft kisses and deep embraces this will never end.
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Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 4:12 PM UTC
Cuddling
Thank you Dad for everything you have done, your hard work and sacrifice for everyone. Thanks for everything you continue to do, but most of all thank you just for being you. Thank you Dad for taking time to care, we really appreciate you always being there at those times when we feel we really need you; you never leave us wanting, always come through. Thank you Dad for being constantly strong, for being such a rock when things go wrong, for making time for us, for always listening, to the myriad of problems we constantly bring. Thank you Dad for calming our fears, for soothing words, for wiping our tears. Thank you for never letting us give up hope; for convincing us repeatedly we can cope. Thank you for your guidance as we move along, for teaching each one of us right from wrong, for encouraging us always to do the right thing, for the moral compass that guides our everyday living. Thanks for your calmness, your infinite patience, your common sense when faced with youthful exuberance! Thank you for providing us with everything we need for believing in us, giving us the tools to succeed. Thank you Dad for never giving up on me, for encouraging me to be all that I could be, for your forgiveness those times I was absolute brat, for your direction when I had no clue what I was at. Thank you from my heart for being such a great Dad, Thank you for the wonderful upbringing I had, Thank you mostly for teaching me what it means to be a Dad, If I am only half as good as you then my kids won’t do so bad.
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May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 4:55 AM UTC
Thank You Dad!
Thank you Dad for everything you have done, your hard work and sacrifice for everyone. Thanks for everything you continue to do, but most of all thank you just for being you. Thank you Dad for taking time to care, we really appreciate you always being there at those times when we feel we really need you; you never leave us wanting, always come through. Thank you Dad for being constantly strong, for being such a rock when things go wrong, for making time for us, for always listening, to the myriad of problems we constantly bring. Thank you Dad for calming our fears, for soothing words, for wiping our tears. Thank you for never letting us give up hope; for convincing us repeatedly we can cope. Thank you for your guidance as we move along, for teaching each one of us right from wrong, for encouraging us always to do the right thing, for the moral compass that guides our everyday living. Thanks for your calmness, your infinite patience, your common sense when faced with youthful exuberance! Thank you for providing us with everything we need for believing in us, giving us the tools to succeed. Thank you Dad for never giving up on me, for encouraging me to be all that I could be, for your forgiveness those times I was absolute brat, for your direction when I had no clue what I was at. Thank you from my heart for being such a great Dad, Thank you for the wonderful upbringing I had, Thank you mostly for teaching me what it means to be a Dad, If I am only half as good as you then my kids won’t do so bad.
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Flossing more often because of you Kool-aid blue cold condensation Wiping my brow drifting dreaming Biting my bottom lip until bruised Fantasies of you being used Objectified with warm honey eyes My popsicle melted on your lips Elbows dug into my mattress Give me some sugar, ****** My pixie stick sweetheart Indulging my sweet tooth Flossing more often because of you
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Jun 7, 2021
Jun 7, 2021 at 12:17 AM UTC
Cavity
I imagine myself A few gentle decades older. Finally grasping the cusp Of success. Living in my own apartment In New York City, nonetheless. Wearing an Armani coat (Whatever those look like.) Walking idly yet prestigiously Through winter in the city. Taking care not to laugh too loud, Talk to myself, smile too much. A small, attractive female Has to be serious to get ahead. Customers will buy from a happy girl Only if she is early 20's, at most. That is Marketing 101. I am a small fish in a large sea; The principles of Darwinism Still apply to me. I've learned long ago to succeed, I must stifle the welcoming smile. So along the familiar concrete I stride, Carefully manicured hands In pockets. The Filipinos know better Than to rush on the hands Of a businesswoman caressing A successful career. She tips well and lives well. I walk along with cool calm And feminine grace. I have regained the safety To be feminine once again. The criminals know better Than to infiltrate The Business district And cause trouble To working professionals In Armani coats. I imagine myself a few decades older. Kissing snowflakes unenthusiastically. Yes, I marvel in poetry, in Nature, But I have matured Much like the snowflakes themselves. At the end of a cycle, No matter how beautiful. My actions flow gracefully and delicately. I melt into New York City Like a cell in a body. Pumping fuel into the ***** To sustain the mass. A tumor. I smile subtly as I slosh along. I recall, once upon a time, On my lower-class youth. ***** jokes, crude dancing, And cluttered apartments. I approach the high-rise building I call home and greet the doorman With the obligatory disregard For his innermost being. Poetry truly is in the strangest of places. Even in an enigma like me. I enter the marble floors, Wiping my feet, My rent as sky-high as The building itself. Elevator. Comforting motion sickness. This is success. The pit of my stomach sinks. I tell myself it's the motion sickness. I return to my apartment, With its symmetrical details. My thoughts return to you. You've never stepped foot in my home, But you've always been here with me. I get dinner started. I set out the extra glass, like always. Rituals like these serve As my Sunday mass. I drink your glass with my evening medication. Dare I say like always?
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Dec 16, 2016
Dec 16, 2016 at 6:09 AM UTC
Winter In The City
I imagine myself A few gentle decades older. Finally grasping the cusp Of success. Living in my own apartment In New York City, nonetheless. Wearing an Armani coat (Whatever those look like.) Walking idly yet prestigiously Through winter in the city. Taking care not to laugh too loud, Talk to myself, smile too much. A small, attractive female Has to be serious to get ahead. Customers will buy from a happy girl Only if she is early 20's, at most. That is Marketing 101. I am a small fish in a large sea; The principles of Darwinism Still apply to me. I've learned long ago to succeed, I must stifle the welcoming smile. So along the familiar concrete I stride, Carefully manicured hands In pockets. The Filipinos know better Than to rush on the hands Of a businesswoman caressing A successful career. She tips well and lives well. I walk along with cool calm And feminine grace. I have regained the safety To be feminine once again. The criminals know better Than to infiltrate The Business district And cause trouble To working professionals In Armani coats. I imagine myself a few decades older. Kissing snowflakes unenthusiastically. Yes, I marvel in poetry, in Nature, But I have matured Much like the snowflakes themselves. At the end of a cycle, No matter how beautiful. My actions flow gracefully and delicately. I melt into New York City Like a cell in a body. Pumping fuel into the ***** To sustain the mass. A tumor. I smile subtly as I slosh along. I recall, once upon a time, On my lower-class youth. ***** jokes, crude dancing, And cluttered apartments. I approach the high-rise building I call home and greet the doorman With the obligatory disregard For his innermost being. Poetry truly is in the strangest of places. Even in an enigma like me. I enter the marble floors, Wiping my feet, My rent as sky-high as The building itself. Elevator. Comforting motion sickness. This is success. The pit of my stomach sinks. I tell myself it's the motion sickness. I return to my apartment, With its symmetrical details. My thoughts return to you. You've never stepped foot in my home, But you've always been here with me. I get dinner started. I set out the extra glass, like always. Rituals like these serve As my Sunday mass. I drink your glass with my evening medication. Dare I say like always?
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84
When I hear the words “marching band”, I think of 4 am’s eating donuts on the bus, Piled in big heaps to conserve warmth, Not caring who we were laying on. I think of lips on fire, Sectionals that drag on and on in The scorching sun, and staying At attention for longer than you can bear. I think of impossibly quick changes into uniforms, Asking your friends to zip you up, Band moms wiping off bibbers and shoes, And when you’re all ready, realizing you didn’t put on your mic. I think of falling on turf during 25 mph wind gusts, hearing the hail smash your instrument, Not being able to feel your face, But knowing you have to play on just the same. I think of eating at weird times, Breakfast at 4 am, lunch at 10 am, and supper at 10 pm, But knowing that when you get you get a chance to eat, The band dads have got you covered. I think of laughing so hard on the bus You’re crying, sobbing even, sprawled across Your best friends, and you think you’ll never calm down Enough to ever play your instrument again. I think of the drum majors’ voices yelling LEFT LEFT LEFT Over and over again until the freshmen finally understand. There’s always that one that never does. I think of the moment of utter agony Before they announce the last place in your class, And you’re squeezing your eyes shut, praying That at the very least, you won’t be last. I think of that moment of utter relief After you hear the last place in your class, And it’s not you, and your prayers have been answered That at the very least, you were not last. I think of the last competition of the season, When the seniors are bawling and it seems like Your entire world is crashing down, And nothing will ever be right again. This poem could go on forever, But finally: finally. When I hear the words “marching band”, I think of that triumphant moment right As your show ends for the last time, That last horns down, And you know you’ve given it your all, And no matter what your score is, You feel in your heart that you have put everything You have out there, All the music, the drill, the blood, sweat and tears, Out there on that football field. And that moment, you can get no where else, but Marching band.
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Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 5:42 PM UTC
Feel This Moment
When I hear the words “marching band”, I think of 4 am’s eating donuts on the bus, Piled in big heaps to conserve warmth, Not caring who we were laying on. I think of lips on fire, Sectionals that drag on and on in The scorching sun, and staying At attention for longer than you can bear. I think of impossibly quick changes into uniforms, Asking your friends to zip you up, Band moms wiping off bibbers and shoes, And when you’re all ready, realizing you didn’t put on your mic. I think of falling on turf during 25 mph wind gusts, hearing the hail smash your instrument, Not being able to feel your face, But knowing you have to play on just the same. I think of eating at weird times, Breakfast at 4 am, lunch at 10 am, and supper at 10 pm, But knowing that when you get you get a chance to eat, The band dads have got you covered. I think of laughing so hard on the bus You’re crying, sobbing even, sprawled across Your best friends, and you think you’ll never calm down Enough to ever play your instrument again. I think of the drum majors’ voices yelling LEFT LEFT LEFT Over and over again until the freshmen finally understand. There’s always that one that never does. I think of the moment of utter agony Before they announce the last place in your class, And you’re squeezing your eyes shut, praying That at the very least, you won’t be last. I think of that moment of utter relief After you hear the last place in your class, And it’s not you, and your prayers have been answered That at the very least, you were not last. I think of the last competition of the season, When the seniors are bawling and it seems like Your entire world is crashing down, And nothing will ever be right again. This poem could go on forever, But finally: finally. When I hear the words “marching band”, I think of that triumphant moment right As your show ends for the last time, That last horns down, And you know you’ve given it your all, And no matter what your score is, You feel in your heart that you have put everything You have out there, All the music, the drill, the blood, sweat and tears, Out there on that football field. And that moment, you can get no where else, but Marching band.
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54
Spilled ink. Old film. Crumpled paper. The click of a shutter. Pens dying. Wiping lenses. Flashlights under the covers. Struggling with a tripod. Daydreaming. The Rule of Thirds. Tattered pages. Beautiful sunsets. Coffee shops. Skittish animals. 3 am. Cropping. Always thinking. The horizon line. The frantic search for pen and paper. Frustrated with trying to capture the beauty of the world In a small package.
0
Jun 30, 2018
Jun 30, 2018 at 6:57 PM UTC
On being a poet and a photographer
I fear. I fission. I flow. like a sponge, I become aqueous when wiping blood or saliva. like a finger, I lose myself in rings of prints. I am the ography of space loosely tied to the end of a carrot. detach me from ice and I float to the other side of the island. I wave at ships passing night or day, captains drunk or sober, buoys clean or covered in mucky **** save me. I am losing my mind on these stairs crawling the ceiling, these riches made of paper, these children using liters of glue to stick themselves to each other. everyone is stuck. everyone is covered in barnacles. everyone is design on my pine tree’s needled hooves. a horse gallops four at a time. they name it “power” for the dreams it has of stormy women.
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Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 9:13 AM UTC
magnolia
Girls will be girls they’ll sing and dance so boys can’t help but grab girls right in their underpants Girls will be girls they’ll flirt and sass but they never **** ‘cause they aren’t crass Girls will be girls they’ll study hard to ****** the boys who’ll mow the yard Girls will be girls they’ll say no and stop but we won’t believe them: the boys are cops! Girls will be girls they’ll cook and clean and raise the kids but must stay lean Girls will be girls they’ll work all day and take home just part of what boys are paid Girls will be girls they’ll talk and chat but then get hysterical when boys call them fat Girls will be girls they’ll wear nice dresses and never soil them wiping up boys’ messes Girls will be girls they’ll run and vote while boys drink beer and win and gloat Girls will be girls and we know what that means: they must always smile and never scream Girls will be girls so let’s hope and pray that girls are girls enough to save this ****** up world we boys have made.
0
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 7:05 PM UTC
Girls will be girls
I draw her close to my chest With her ****** pointing out from her underwear like an arrow Slowly removing her underwear arm by arm and kissing the smooth shoulder As I pull the two arms of her underwear the underwear fell out of her body slowly I can see her pointed ****** calling me for a **** Picked up an ice-cream, rubbing it gently and slowly all over her smooth soft and attractive ebony skin From her face to her toes(all over her body) All her body is covered with ice-cream And she screamed baby is cold and warm Slowly I started giving her a tongue bath From her fore-head to her cheek to her nose to her lips Paused a little as I deep my tongue into her two attractive lips and hers into mine We exchange tongues for minutes   Down to her neck, wiping all the ice-cream with my lips gently and slowly As she started to scold Down to her chest l **** up the cream on her chest Holding her pointed breast as I kiss and **** her ****** slowly She  scream softly and faintly "aahh hmmm that's it baby she said" down to her **** tommy With my tongue going angle at a point on her stomach I Started again from her toes **** all her ten toes one after each other slowly To her knees She started shaking as I approach her **** ice-creamed laps The volume of her screams increase slowly as am  kissing her laps and going upward to her tight ice-creamed ***** Her legs shakes heavily and her body started shaking She shuddered softly as my  tongue rolled over her **** she started to scold, but moaned softly as my tongue pressed at her **** harder she lifted her head up looking at me as I shake my head side by side with my tongue holding the **** harder She dropped her head as she murmured "hmmmm" faintly She started to push me away gently not that she don't want more but because is over-sensitive I grabbed her back While I continue to **** her deeply into her ***** slowly and gently As she raise her head again holding my head toward her ***** Pressing my head harder towards her ***** as my tongue was deep into her ***** and my thumb press her **** and shaking it side by side Please," she whined breathlessly to me. "Please. Faster." I withdrew my tongue and gently took her **** in my  teeth and wriggled it back and forth quickly. Her legs jumped and she cried out, pushing with her arms again. I grabbed her hips and pull closer "Oh... Aaaaaah ... I'm so close," she whined. I circled her **** with my nose and pressed my tongue back inside her, flicking it in and out quickly to the sound of her gasps. "Just... Ah... Almost..." She gasped when it hit her, and her body quickly shuddered, She slowly dropped her head as she removed her hand on my head So I  licked at the inside of her thigh, where the *** had sound up, and continued to clean her up with my tongue everything tensing and relaxing for several moments before she relaxed back into the floor,
0
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 10:33 AM UTC
GIVING HER A TONGUE BATH
I draw her close to my chest With her ****** pointing out from her underwear like an arrow Slowly removing her underwear arm by arm and kissing the smooth shoulder As I pull the two arms of her underwear the underwear fell out of her body slowly I can see her pointed ****** calling me for a **** Picked up an ice-cream, rubbing it gently and slowly all over her smooth soft and attractive ebony skin From her face to her toes(all over her body) All her body is covered with ice-cream And she screamed baby is cold and warm Slowly I started giving her a tongue bath From her fore-head to her cheek to her nose to her lips Paused a little as I deep my tongue into her two attractive lips and hers into mine We exchange tongues for minutes   Down to her neck, wiping all the ice-cream with my lips gently and slowly As she started to scold Down to her chest l **** up the cream on her chest Holding her pointed breast as I kiss and **** her ****** slowly She  scream softly and faintly "aahh hmmm that's it baby she said" down to her **** tommy With my tongue going angle at a point on her stomach I Started again from her toes **** all her ten toes one after each other slowly To her knees She started shaking as I approach her **** ice-creamed laps The volume of her screams increase slowly as am  kissing her laps and going upward to her tight ice-creamed ***** Her legs shakes heavily and her body started shaking She shuddered softly as my  tongue rolled over her **** she started to scold, but moaned softly as my tongue pressed at her **** harder she lifted her head up looking at me as I shake my head side by side with my tongue holding the **** harder She dropped her head as she murmured "hmmmm" faintly She started to push me away gently not that she don't want more but because is over-sensitive I grabbed her back While I continue to **** her deeply into her ***** slowly and gently As she raise her head again holding my head toward her ***** Pressing my head harder towards her ***** as my tongue was deep into her ***** and my thumb press her **** and shaking it side by side Please," she whined breathlessly to me. "Please. Faster." I withdrew my tongue and gently took her **** in my  teeth and wriggled it back and forth quickly. Her legs jumped and she cried out, pushing with her arms again. I grabbed her hips and pull closer "Oh... Aaaaaah ... I'm so close," she whined. I circled her **** with my nose and pressed my tongue back inside her, flicking it in and out quickly to the sound of her gasps. "Just... Ah... Almost..." She gasped when it hit her, and her body quickly shuddered, She slowly dropped her head as she removed her hand on my head So I  licked at the inside of her thigh, where the *** had sound up, and continued to clean her up with my tongue everything tensing and relaxing for several moments before she relaxed back into the floor,
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49
I’ll have you know that this started out as a love poem but then I got lazy and distracted when the dog started biting my leg and I decided that this process wasn’t worth it all together and went outside for a smoke that’s when I tried to call you but you didn’t answer I guess it’s Valentine’s Day and you’re probably with some other guy who’s more sensitive than me but can he smoke as **** as me? or cough as loud? or breathe as heavy? well probably ******* not and maybe that’s a good thing that he’s healthy and doesn’t smell like the inside of a Texas Roadhouse before they decided that smoking killed everyone and no one could do it there no not even the good looking people you always said I was good looking well above average and I cooked good too and that one Valentine’s Day you said If you asked me to marry you right now, I’d say yes that was after I killed the bat in the attic bought you a bouquet of bleeding hearts and brought home the puppy since then my typewriter has busted and you have left P.S. I still have the dog and I renamed him Juniper because that’s what happens when you’re drunk and sad and alone but now I’m happy smoking a cigarette listening to my neighbor’s massive wind chime conk and sway in the crosswind and I feel as alive as ever knowing that you’re wiping off that red lipstick with a poem I wrote you because your date just got done and he’s not sleeping over and you’re just about to walk to the back patio and smoke a cigarette because you want to die just as bad as I do
0
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 5:36 PM UTC
Dear ex-lover
I’ll have you know that this started out as a love poem but then I got lazy and distracted when the dog started biting my leg and I decided that this process wasn’t worth it all together and went outside for a smoke that’s when I tried to call you but you didn’t answer I guess it’s Valentine’s Day and you’re probably with some other guy who’s more sensitive than me but can he smoke as **** as me? or cough as loud? or breathe as heavy? well probably ******* not and maybe that’s a good thing that he’s healthy and doesn’t smell like the inside of a Texas Roadhouse before they decided that smoking killed everyone and no one could do it there no not even the good looking people you always said I was good looking well above average and I cooked good too and that one Valentine’s Day you said If you asked me to marry you right now, I’d say yes that was after I killed the bat in the attic bought you a bouquet of bleeding hearts and brought home the puppy since then my typewriter has busted and you have left P.S. I still have the dog and I renamed him Juniper because that’s what happens when you’re drunk and sad and alone but now I’m happy smoking a cigarette listening to my neighbor’s massive wind chime conk and sway in the crosswind and I feel as alive as ever knowing that you’re wiping off that red lipstick with a poem I wrote you because your date just got done and he’s not sleeping over and you’re just about to walk to the back patio and smoke a cigarette because you want to die just as bad as I do
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57
Nearly twice as tall, And just as thin, You hold me in your arms, And the whole thing begins. "Today was just awful!" I cried into your shoulder, You kept me sane the entire time, My eternal holder , You helped me through my darkest days. You move me to the couch, And pull me farther in, I tried to resist your help, But I knew you'd always win. You wrapped your knee around me, Locking me in place, I never wanted to be free, From your loving embrace. Kissing the top of my head, You whispered comforting words in my ear, Saying they weren't getting this worked up over, Killing my fear. I wrapped my arms around your shoulders, Burying my face into your chest, I never knew a guy that would be any bolder, Then to hold me close and make the whole world disappear. A soft kiss on my lips, Wiping the stray tears from my cheeks, The warmth from the fire spreading over us, I hadn't felt this safe in weeks. Until you took me into those arms I felt as if I was hanging by a thread, But I know from your soft kisses and deep embraces this will never end. ~E.M.
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Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 7:55 PM UTC
Cuddling