Best Salivate Poems
Madness stirs their passions...
Such dregs have stacked the deck.
Ideas resurrected from the dustbin
Of History... make bold their disrespect.
Ideologies of egotists and lunatics
Prey now upon the weak.
They salivate their malcontent...
It is wry carnage that they seek.
Devoid of humility and prudence...
Learning nothing of the past.
If we fail to confront these miscreants...
Society will not last.
It's been thought for many years...
Wisdom comes with age.
But my friend... the ship has sailed...
The dregs will have their day.
Don't be fooled by their actions
And the crazy things they do.
Some adults are nothing more...
Then kids in bigger shoes.
The End
My daughter's getting married
To a super guy called Tom,
It's really fast approaching,
It won't be very long.
The wedding dress is sorted,
The venue and the flowers,
The music and the fireworks,
But the cake, it took us hours.
We went to do some tasting,
Each sponge was quite divine,
Chocolate orange, vanilla
Pimms, coffee and praline.
The raspberry and the champagne
Made us salivate,
Strawberry and white chocolate
Tasted oh so great.
There was banana and spicy cinnamon,
Ginger and caramel,
All so gratifying,
Oh and Battenberg as well.
The carrot cake with walnuts
Was tasty as can be,
Rhubarb and rose petal
And one flavoured with green tea.
Piña colada with coconut
Like kisses on our lips,
Chocolate tiramisu
Oh the calories on our hips.
Odd flavours such as beetroot,
Pistachio and courgette
Were actually quite delightful,
A taste we won't forget.
Earl Grey with lavender,
Pumpkin with peanut butter,
Mouth-wateringly delectable
They got us all a flutter.
Chocolate fudge with peppermint,
Marshmallow and key lime,
Traditional dried fruit,
They were all sublime.
How could we make our choices
For a three tiered wedding cake,
We just couldn't do it
So we've gone for twenty-eight!
4th March 2017
A world in turmoil secreting fear
A hopeless hope evaporates thru the atmosphere
The demons dance with great desire
And dreams held captive in tangled wire
Sorrow cascades thru hellion skies
As souls prepare for their demise
Pernicious breath now blankets all
The serpents salivate and thus begin to crawl
But only love transcends the verse
To help heal and crush the curse
That the evil that has begun
Shall be destroyed and become undone
Visions of hope are nearing by
As we mortar bricks for destiny’s sky
The race for the races of humanity
For communal unity so let it be.
Jan.26.2016(Org date)
Any Poem You Ever Wrote NOT For A Contest - Poetry Contest
By Broken Wings
July.03.2016
My love...let me explain this situation,
I had no intentions of cheating on you.
I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.
You saw me with her and it meant nothing,
I just held her for a moment in my hand.
Your skin glows like the moons reflection on water,
She looked anorexic sick...and pale green before vomiting.
Your scent’s like liquid caramel whenever you move.
She smelt like salty...sweat on a hot day.
My yearning heart throbs to your sloshing voice,
And I salivate to the sound of your name.
The evening flutters like butterfly wings.
I am calmed by your taste that I carry into,
The twilight of my soul and hold dear to my heart.
I’m filled with hope, may I dry your condensation tears,
That steadily stream down your plastic face?
I didn’t mean to make you cry...my love.
As my taste is satisfied, it reminds me
Of your moistened contents when I first met you.
In the hush of night, hearing you psss... turns me on,
My taste...buds leap to my mouth‘s palate.
I wait in the moonlight for your secret 23 flavors,
So that we may merge as one, liquid to stomach.
In the search of glorious satisfaction,
Of having my life...moistened by your touch.
Please believe me...she means nothing to me.
I just held her in my hand for a moment,
I’m loyal to you with all my heart and soul,
My lips never touched hers, I promise.
I would never switch to Mountain Dew.
I’m in love with you and only you,
Satisfy my life with your liquid...love.
I longed to hold you in my hand,
You...my Dr. Pepper...come here let me kiss you.
I'm in love with your cool and refreshing taste.........ahhh.
SILENT ROOSTERS SLEEP
Dads don’t sleep. They drive over-packed cars, and sip coffee from a thermos cup. Kids in backseat mull over grandma’s home ~ roosters never move, cuckoo clock never quits, and grandma’s always at the door, waiting. Front passenger divvies out cheerios and chips. The turnpike yawns with well-worn pitstops. All seats salivate for grandma’s homemade coffee cake. “Are we there yet?” echoes, bounces, plays with the driver’s nerves. Dads get revenge, transforming the auto into a tour bus. Pointer finger flashes toward a birthplace, a high school, and a park, and finally a hearth in the suburbs of Depew.
silent roosters sleep
moonlight auto unpacks dawn
crowing door exhales
7/14/2017
Haibun Form
The Haunted House
Abandon all hope on haunted hill enter the house with a bitter chill
Walking bold with a thrashing thrill breaking through the rusted grille
The door slams shut as we look behind now facing fear and confined
We roam the bowels in darkness blind shaking silly to what we find
+
Spiders finish their webbing spin and entangle with our shrieking skin
The house grumbles a grunting grin so it may welcome its kindred kin
Spirits approach to dance and dine as we stand with a shrinking spine
The floor is set for a spooking shrine the broods macabre now entwine
+
Necromancer of the nefarious night waking the dead in a frantic freight
Evening emulous enchantress in flight descending from a haunting height
Caldrons cabalistically calm in their still before the fire breaks their will
The ravens caw a shivering shrill and the wolves salivate a bloody spill
+
Open caskets appear in a vaporous view attended by a skeleton crew
Witches walking with a shriveled skew as warlocks wine in their woo
Tombstones lift above the ground the dead arise to break the mound
Admits shattering screams that surround only wake the hilltop hound.
Aug.12.2018
The Haunted House (Scare Me or Make Me Laugh)
Sponsored by: Dear Heart a.k.a. Broken Wings
Placed 4'th
I crave sticky butter mint balls
Liquorice allsorts from the candy stalls
Orange smarties, my favourite treat
Violet crumbles I just love to eat
English toffees for me to masticate
Chocolate drops make me salivate
Aniseed balls would paint my tongue red
Nougat or should I choose fruit gums instead
Dime bars and snickers too much temptation
Yikes! my waistline spread’s caused aggravation!
Message In An Acrostic 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Kim Rodrigues
09/07/21
grandma’s place
once a loving home
with so many fun things to do
my heart smiles
grandma’s hands
making beef and noodles
sculpturing pies
I salivate
grandma’s eyes
loving me in so many ways
grandma’s hugs.
Gulp.
someone else lives there now
grandma long gone.
it hurts me
Chicken Lollipops
Saturday entree made us salivate for seconds.
10 November 2015
Food & Our Memory Contest - Awarded 2nd Place
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
now that Chavez is dead,
the american oil companies
chomping at the bit
begin to salivate & lick their lips,
seething
with the foam
of potent country-gutting
rabies---
for while he was alive,
Venezuela was one of the only
countries left,
who resisted the empire’s attempts to
penetrate it & whore it out to the
highest capitalist bidder---
with Chavez dead,
not only will the oil soon be drained from
within the borders of beautiful
Venezuela,
but so will die the social programs that Chavez
instilled,
those that had been used to combat the
extreme poverty which exists in the country,
those that the governments before Chavez did nothing to
prevent.
so goes Chavez,
so goes a bastion of anti-empire,
so goes a man who pushed Chomsky’s work at the
United Nations,
so goes a man who championed the bloc that
would resist the swallowing up of
Latin America by the
empire.
yes,
the vultures are hungry,
they are perched & ready---
rather than create green alternatives to the
reliance on oil,
they will suck every last drop &
make the world do their bidding,
creating a negative media firestorm
to shed hate upon a man who can no longer
defend himself,
just as they will the next who steps up to resist.
spawned in the summer of 1853
these sliced succulent deep fried wonders
resulted from the demands of a complaining customer
whose ******** led our man, a one,
mr. george crum
to do his best to satisfy the putz in question by
replacing the humdrum n’ waterlogged n’ sodden,
slithery,
pommes de terre
with
his
new
&
improved
(as thin as could possibly be imagined),
drenched in salt,
deep fried & sizzling,
immaculate conception.
and as you can imagine, mr. cornelius vanderbilt
(said unruly customer),
whom mr. crum felt would most assuredly send back the creation he just made,
again,
for his money back,
instead
had something of an ****** of the taste buds!
and so these
“saratoga chips”
came to be the next big thing---
satisfying lovers of starch, grease & salt, everywhere.
it didn’t take long for word to get to canada where they buried them things in
dill pickle,
ketchup,
jalapeño & cheddar,
salt n’ pepper,
roast chicken---or to
austria where they soak em’ in garlic, bulgaria, where paprika is the taste of the day—
& colombia boasts
mayonesa y limón,
egypt popularized the kebob & stuffed vine leave essence of zest,
you got oregano chips in greece
you got the overwhelming majority chomping down the tayto’s in ireland
whereas in
russia
it is caviar, crab and
shashlik
which make the people salivate.
regardless of where you are or what you are doing
you can get some kind of potato chip
yes,
you can suck down that sodium & grease
mmmmmmmm
i
myself
am currently in something of a sour cream n’ onion phase---
and i must say
i praise the day
that crum went back in the
kitchen
&
angrily
whipped up a batch of
yummyness
for
vandy
to
suck
down---
commencing
la revolución de patatas fritas.
Slipping gently towards entropy,
Ownership with an apostrophe.
Braid the loose frays of sanity
Till something true finally answers me.
Troops are marching over many lands,
Tagged cornflower blue--a worldwide brand.
Don't speak out or you will be banned,
Towers implode just as they've planned.
Constantine merged Rome's faiths to one
Keeping time and step with Pagans.
Moloch laughs at our dull compassion
While Illuminati goals corrupt conception.
With a punitive eye beneath the skin
Mankind’s been declared the pathogen.
So an age of ignorance was ushered in
With aims to squelch the soul within.
Rotating parties deflect shared shame
Allowing complacency to be blamed.
Splintered populations can be tamed,
And bombs tend to leave bodies maimed.
Thieves steel gold and filch the free press,
Bobble heads working to keep up stress,
Businessmen sponsoring all this mess.
"We've got some pills if you feel depressed..."
We inherently trust their authority
As they outlaw nutrients due to toxicity.
In an effort to organize bioactivity
They count on our enduring apathy.
We protest lies, so they've built some pens.
Peace simply means they'll take our weapons.
"So go buy a widescreen for your den
To watch us start your wars again."
Even the name Bilderberg is a joke.
As they like it they’ve managed to fleece us broke,
Locking humanity into the yoke.
They sold the world lies before they ever spoke.
Crypto-eugenics is a fatal threat,
Academia functioning as a stooge pet.
Look into those eyes; they've got no regret
To kill us all off like they're clearing a debt.
Global control would only serve them well,
Micro chipped souls have no secrets to sell.
Salivate each time you hear their bell
Or they'll call themselves gods chasing you through hell.
Our oppressive puppet liars, they will not quit,
So don't waste breath saying, 'I'll submit.'
Words of our liberty are just and legit,
And truthful self-rule is a righteous fit.
When bureaucrats state dissent is treachery
In truth they've already sold their loyalty,
They still threaten our sovereignty.
Reclaim our human right to be free!
Surely this will come as no shock,
But it makes me so happy
When I think of your cooking,
I just imagine it and I start to hum,
Thinking of how it fills me with comfort.
I smell your food and salivate,
Wishing you cooked at a faster rate,
I close my eyes as I must wait.
I give my lips a smack and a lick,
Fully impatient to eat your dish.
Sometimes to go fast I help out too,
Tossing the salad or grilling corn on the cob,
I'm always happy to give you a hand.
Job's always quicker with the help of a friend.
The smells grow stronger
And my hunger is woke.
The closer we get to the end,
The faster I stream around the kitchen,
Eager to help you finish.
My stomach grumbles and croaks,
So loud, it sounds like a drum!
I'm so excited to taste your cuisine.
Finally, dinner is served,
I lap it all up,
it's almost all gone in a couple big gulps.
But it's so delish, it's hard to stop!
I clean up well and eat every last morsel of food.
You smile as I lick my lips span and spick,
You liked watching me enjoying your dish,
You start to thank me, but I thank you instead,
I say I look forward to giving you help
By doing the dishes while you go to bed.
Then I too will sleep as sound as a rock,
And perhaps pleasantly dream,
Recalling the taste of your cookery.
The smell of garlic in the morning
I caught a whiff as I was yawning
Though it made me salivate
Garlic for breakfast? next time wait!
I'd rather have it late at night
Then your nose, I will not blight
C'mon folks let's not fight
Garlic for breakfast - that's not right!
i remember so well
The scrubbed farmhouse kitchen table
where all activities were held
From eating to colouring in,where jigsaw puzzles were made.
I remember the large open range fire
always burning, am sure it burned for 12 months of the year.
I can still smell the bacon, oh what a wonderful smell
as Mam cooked it on the big range cooker.
At exactly 9 am the farm workers would come in.
Breakfast time, they had been working a few hours already.
Can remember the piles of bacon, eggs and fried bread
Looked like enough to feed fifty not just the five,
the smell still lingers in my nostril
fried bacon, I salivate remembering it.
I laughed when I saw the doorstep chunks of bread
For mopping up young miss they would say to me.
Their plates would be so clean looked unused.
Blue sky, the bleating of the sheep,
Birds flying in formation,
Geese off to the lake for the day.
Only to return at night.
The smell of honeysuckle,
brings back the walks in the lanes
blackberrying in season, the pies and jams
*Mamgu used to make.
Conkers from the mighty tree in the middle of the field.
Mostly the clean smell of the country sticks in my mind
So much for a child to do in safety
You learn at an early age about staying back from machinery
Cos even the most experienced driver can overturn in a field.
Bedtime came and you were so tired you slept,
No tv’s in the bedroom you went to bed to sleep.
Maybe a line or two of a story, tiredness would take over.
Gentle zzzzzzzzs could be heard
As a child in the country it is a joyful time
Freedom, no traffic, healthy food,
Doing things together as a family should.
These idyllic time are firmly written
in indelible ink, in my mind.
* Mamgu - Grandmother
Penned 4 September 2015