Best Pastes Poems

Temptation Itches On All Living Things

Temptation itches on all living things
often nobody knows just how it stings,
not the icky-glues in its sticky pastes
nor the rotten fruits in its wasted wastes.

She the vixen nobody could resist
her vanishing pleasures - elusive mists,
long legs descend from heavenly skies
later,...

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O glorious Autumn of melancholic 
Gold -
All abouts the brightly lit
Woodlands
Your wonderful artistry behold!
Tinted bronzes,
Darting between awkward firs
Of sobering Evergreen,
Loiter inside mauve havens
Splashed with palest yellows -
And dappled with many differing 
Limes
Throughout this variegated Theme;
A myriad of rustling contentment,
Sweetest contrasting charms,
Complimentary...
Softly whispering leafy hues...
Hushed...most elegantly...

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soak up the side streets of Montmartre, 
Paris, 	Pigalle on Boulevard de Clichy
class less 	art combusts	then drips 

- street beggars & tourists cant

writer Rubbish pastes   lace traceries
ala mode 	decoupaging decay 	
his cut-paper layers	grace	   anoint		
no longer anonymous		walls

stencilist C215’s “simply a cat”
defies sourpusses...

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Fashion cover girls these days make me sick,
All haggard and thin, they look like a stick.
Picking on South Beach diets to trim flat waists         
Do they have a life with surgical pastes?
We XL women may not be...

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Her husband passed away so suddenly
she pastes a smile on her face ...
heartache is kept inside

Three young children miss their daddy so much,
she tries to make fun filled days ... 
life just has to go on

When she is all alone in the evening
she sobs into...

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No more faxes, no more phones                                       ...

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No more faxes, no more phones                                       ...

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The morning paper is everywhere, the breakfast dishes, are here and there
Her feet up in the easy chair, the old man in his underwear
The phone starts ringing loud and clear, so hubby quickly disappears
When he returns, she sees a frown,…, He calmly says,  “Guess...

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he crawls in the filth,
struggles to climb,
finding a convenient spot
he branches out.

begins...perhaps 
the most baffling of all processes.

when done...dormant.
he will be prey for predators of all kinds

as time passes, 
as minutes count the hours...the hours the days
he beats the odds, success is his.

the dirty crawler who gives even 'Jocks'
the willies, the heebee jeebees,
starts...

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bloods curdle into sour pastes,

touches reek of bitter tastes,

an unethical monster,

a lustful devil,

an insult to society.

 

a burning heart and soul laced,

two lips and her happiness blazed,

but what about her?

she who walks home to hell,

a torn body without any gauge.

 

the risk of love and...

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Replicas of calibrated handshakes,
captured screen-shot 
search engine eyes,
       silent in the deep darlings
       of purple prose,
 canons of instant articles of diction:

Taoists aren’t too quick to judge;
Machiavellians have mothers, too.  But,
stirring anger...

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the cause of spreading over of the fragrance
from our secret myrobalan to every side of the pillows
is not only such that in the morning 
an empty ink-pot says to the rain-water 
you are beautiful 

it is also remarkable that 
coming to our half-articulated  travelling...

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The drive is not short
Right, left, right turn at sleeve’s font
Four people a prayer hold

Mona Lisa cried
Her left cheek pastes a wet smile
Her right wet hand hid the time

But, she typed her line
Using her mouse to save time
Splendor poetry’s soft rhyme

No handkerchief dear
Just follow the...

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Are you frying today? No? Not at all? An attempt to pull the frying pan out would be better off left alone as other plates could fall. Oh dear. The frying is best done outside then? Yes? Are you even listening to the logic? You...

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On Pimple Pond

Pocked, our dreams spurt from cabin walls. 
Woolen cover and cotton pillow catch 
pin point boils from day breaking, like pitted glass.
White pebbled path meanders the hill’s cheek, 
wet from being squeezed by nights cold hard hands, 
to where set-tables will not wait...

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