Best Salivated Poems
Driven to Distraction
Can’t help it
Can’t do anything about it
An innocent photo
Fantasizes
Her word repeated
Re-read and re-initiated
Touches
Swims me through
Her soul
Finds my spirit
Traversing the spaces
Hanging with kisses
She repeats
And replete
On tantalizings
Almost tasted
I fall
Control-less
Can’t help it
Can’t do anything about it
In the images
She painted
Enchanted
The rick and cot
Of desire
In sheets and pillows
I hear her giggles
Under flushing eyes
What am I to do
With these
Vacant longings
As they travel
Distances
Horizon from me to you
What am I to do
With this hearts
And heads infatuated
Poetry
As it lays at night
Jostling and turning
In the empty
Impossibility
Of wantings
My lips to feed
Greedily
And sate this hungrily
Echoed
Distraction driven
I can’t help it
Can’t control it
This aching trespass
With words imparted
The succinct
And salivated story
Of her
Sends me crushing
And cruising
Heat semaphores
Towards her
And in the meal of love
I would dine
On sustenance passion
Eat her
Through my every fibre
If but once
I could
Hold her
Can’t help it
Can’t do anything about it
Can’t control it
Once upon a time as all good stories start
Lived three pink flamingos who never were apart
Flo she's the little one, who likes to tease the others
They're Joe, and Moe, her big strong older brothers
They thought it would be nice to take a holiday
So each pink flamingo hired a car to go away
Now Flo hired a mini 'cos minis are so cute
and set off on her way with a suitcase in the boot
So to find the seaside she headed off as speed
but the road had a troll on, with whom she had to plead
"Mr Troll Mr Troll, please leave me to my trip
Just step off the road, and away I will zip."
"Young flamingo" said the troll "your car look rather tasty
I'll eat it for a morning snack", Flo's face went quite pasty
"But Mr Troll I need my car, to go on holiday
My brothers both have bigger cars and they are on the way"
"Go on your trip then, I hear your puny plea
Your mini is too small to fill a giant troll like me"
At the thought of bigger cars the troll he salivated
then lay down in the road where impatiently he waited
Joe Hired a sports car to zoom off to the sea
but stayed at home a little while to drink his cup of tea
At last he set off, to catch up with his sis'
Speeding down the highway, he saw something was amiss
A giant troll lay in the road, his mouth open wide
Hoping that the next car, would simply drive inside
"Mr Troll Mr Troll, I see you hiding there
Did you think I would drive in, without the slightest care"
The troll stood up, at last a car to eat
But Joe was too fast and zoomed between his feet
Joe sped along the road and soon caught up with Flo
They talked about the troll and worried for big Moe
Continued....
Have I ever told you about my friend,
a mechanic by the name of John?
Oh, the countless stories that he can tell
of the hunting trips that he’s been on.
He’s taken down many a whitetail,
but most people would be intrigued to know
about the time that Johnny tussled with
and then ate a god-damned Wendigo!
It happened about ten years ago,
up north in Maine’s ever-rolling green pines,
Johnny was up to bag himself a moose,
figured it would be one hell of a time.
But on his hunt he got turned all-around,
though he still won’t admit he was lost,
soon he had eaten all his beef jerky,
leaving him starving in cold, northern frosts.
It was then in this desperate state
that a bizarre sight came to his eyes:
A beast that stood on two feet, like a man,
though it towered, at least ten feet high.
It had clawed hands, and the greyest of skin,
on its head huger antlers spread, upturned,
its muscles were ropy, not an ounce of fat,
canine teeth sat beneath eyes that burned.
“Wendigo,”Johnny said at the sight,
calling up on all his folk wisdom,
a monster that natives once greatly feared,
a beast born out of cannibalism.
Some say they were men who ate fellow man,
and were then cursed with madness, living death,
others said they were beasts, roaming around,
every hungry for more human flesh.
Johnny could see, even from a distance,
that this monster had never been a man,
as the beast salivated, Johnny brought up
the hunting rifle, right into his hand.
He felt his stomach gurgle, still empty,
then looked at the monster in his way,
Johnny said,”Mythical creature or not,
when you’re hungry, a steak is a steak!”
He fired four shots, straight into it’s chest,
turning grey skin into a smear of red,
the monster looked shocked, more than angry,
then collapsed to the ground and lay dead...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
I found you on the humbled wheat fields,
Out in the dramatically flattened open
They used to stand so tall, and now,
In only a moment…all fell before you
So very little, in contrast,
You towered over their severed stalks
Your light radiated and pulsed from your frame,
Leaving rainbow-electro ripples in the sky
You beckoned me closer and closer,
And as I glided toward you in terror and wonder,
Life itself became pleasantly unclear
The word, how
Remained on my parted lips...
Instantly, all that mattered was your existence,
How you swayed back and forth so enchantingly,
Teasing the wheat that bowed before you
Your eyes, intelligent, dreamlike, and wide,
Having seen beyond my every capability,
Knowing answers I have died over every night…
I was drawn to you like the honey bee to the giant hyssop
Though instead of brushing against fragrant petals,
There was a looming gloom of potential doom
Marvel drowned out all such fear as I drew ever near
As questions, so many questions, ached to be articulated
This inquisitive soul salivated in your shimmer
With a prayer for all humanity to see what I see…
When time became merely a silly story rhyme,
You answered every question like a parent to a child
The awe of your wisdom burned my stubbornness,
For in that moment, learning was living
No science, no reliance,
No fact, no future to fumble
Only truth today
Was fed to a child who once thought she knew all
Screaming and pouting in hopes for victory
She knows nothing until she grows taller than the earnest wheat
To fall effortlessly at your strange, alien feet
Inspired by the song “Tiny Alien” By Katie Melua
“Just how far can you fall,
When you still feel so small?
Will you love me through the sorrows, tomorrows,
Whatever the future will bring?
Tiny alien”
And for the contest sponsored by: Silent One
I stand, waiting, out of the dappled sun light.
Listening to the hollow timpani that is my
stomach, the adrenalin coursing
through my chest, telling me 'its time'
My neuronal switch 'clicks'. I am no longer
inert, I am hunter. I have smelled the air
and read its menu. I have stretched life
back into my stagnant limbs
The smell is strong, close. A young doe
stands on the edges of her grazing family.
Young, healthy, unseasoned. When I pounce she
will Freeze. Making the kill easy. She will be easy
I stifle a memory. I have lost so many on the hunt.
Sometimes, I get too close and they scream, causing
agitated stares, that force me back. Back to my
hunger.
Twenty tries since my last kill. Twenty times I have salivated at
the thought of my hunger being satisfied. My preening delayed ,
like a peacock whose feathers no longer meet the expectation of
a mating ritual.
Slowly. Slower than slowly. Time no longer exists for me,
or for my kill. I skulk, each foot testing its ground before
being planted down. Hips sway low from side to side,
like an exotic dancer. Both of us earning our living.
My heart rips through my own blood, ejaculating it into a
bursting surge. Now is the moment. There will be no other
moment. I lunge, connecting with flesh. Soft flesh. Power pulls my victim
to the ground. I smell the sweet sweet smell of metallic ooze, dripping slowly,
like molasses from a wooden spoon. I hold my kill, turn and drag her away
Her family still graze, unaware of their loss. Unconscious of
my facile victory. Time soon enough to savour their haunted calls
And what of my kill? Picked up like so much road kill. Just another unsolved
homicide to add to my growing file. And what of me? I am once more content
to wait for another sound to grow deep within my soul. For I am Tiger, Hunter.
I am God!
Meet me here angel surrogates
for i have allowed my eyes to consume your make
and out of oblivion exploited my appreciation.
You bayonetted me with a warm grin,
embraced me with you fatal glance,
punctuated my wholeself with your pulchritude,
encacerated me with your decency
and yet decide to burry my ingenous altruism
in a shallow grave...a hole
This cup of coffee before me...
you prepared and stirred good to my satisfaction
and yet you knew i would not smell it.
This coffee i saw you prepare,
salivated and quenched for...
you served it in my presence,
meet me here Yevai
and know that i yearned and quenched for the coffee.
Stern and composed before a huge mirror
I see your reflection instead,
maybe just a ciggarete thought
Judge me not dear
for these folly filled illusions
but you made me drink and smoke,
trying to define my existence in your face.
In the dock i stand now,
facing murder charges and blasphemous attacks
on your innocent mother
for baking this special cake
and throw it into the world of man.
Had i been blind
her deft articulation would not have intervened with my misgivings.
My own psche i have murdered....
meet me here Yevai
This street called love
we were together where it begins...
saw you taking off,
laughed and thaught time shall come
when it was infact ticking away.
Tick-tock tick-tock i have waited
only to write my own epitah.
Had it made a difference if i shouted,
WROTE boldly,
smiled and told you how much you meant to me?
Judge me not Miss
for i will stand in the dock again
facing charges of mental illusions with the creator.
Illusions...
that inside the brown bottle
i will find you
when you were locked in your room instead.
Illusions...
that love was in the air
and i had only the birds to compete with
when some boys were chasing you instead.
Travelled for long side by side
not noticing the dermacation line between us,
the small fence that i thought
too low when i want to jump...
I shall say no more of it
I should have just told you
rather than live a life on paper...
The proverbial victim immortalized forever
Seeing Prince Charming when you gazed into his eyes, but, beyond your
delusion stood Satan himself fantasizing about how he was to devour your flesh.
Sibyl's true love for Dorian did not see deceit's nasty warnings.
Narcissistic Dorian could not be abated.
The torment of others didn't reach his conscience.
He craved only masturbation material for his wicked ego.
His evil heart overpowered all.
His sinister desires are all that ruminated through his diabolical mind
Loving Dorian only left Sibyl starving.
His heart was not capable of returning the undying devotion she felt for him.
He was no man.
Only a hollow shell, pretending to feel love while concealing his laughter for his
unsuspecting prey.
Loving Dorian only killed you.
He compromised your integrity
Stole your innocence
Taking from you what you could never retrieve
Just because he could
But, don't worry your pretty little head, Sibyl.
You will never be forgotten.
Especially by Sir Dorian Gray
Though I imagine that he would give anything to have a moment of peace from
the horrifying images of your tragic ending, for all eternity his thoughts will be
haunted by images of your ruby red blood, desperate cries and the contortion of
your dying body.
Sometimes he will think it is just a nightmare, but this is something from which
he will never wake.
He will pray for an ending to his torment, but his wish will never be granted.
Though ultimately Sibyl, you took your own life there is blood dripping from
Dorian's claws.
Evil must be punished like everyone else and that is the embodiment of Dorian
Gray's icy heart.
Now Dorian must cloak his own sins.
His evil soul destroyed himself and all those who had the misfortune to love him.
Though he salivated at the thought of his next conquest, time and time again,
Dorian's self hatred and inner demons engulfed him until he plunged into his
darkened abyss from which he will never escape.
His most unfortunate transgression of all was choosing to live a superficial
existence, choosing eternal youth and beauty over true love.
Sybil Vane was the only woman whose love was pure enough to rescue him.
Dorian will forever be tormented knowing that he obliterated his guardian angel,
the only one that could have saved him - from himself.
Abandoned dreams
are standing
neatly stacked
in the drawer
through darkness
accompanied by light
snakes slithered
and
by their stomach salivated all hope
leave them asleep
abandoned dreams are
calmly waiting
hands
to abuse them.
The pastor's sermon was quite clear on the matter of temptation.
He held our attention - no one went to sleep in that congregation!
As usual, it was an inspiring and masterful presentation,
Leaving some folks (and me) in a state of nervous trepidation!
He talked of The Master's temptations and how them He overcame,
Telling Satan to buzz off, and stop playing his evil game.
I took this admonition to heart, vowing to do much better,
To toe the line and obey the Ten Comandments to the letter!
Alas, I faced temptation ere I even left the church.
My roving eye got me in trouble; good intentions I did besmirch.
The faithful deacons had laid on a most delectable spread,
Of scrumptious cake, cookies and tasty banana bread!
I salivated as I pondered, "Should I or should I not?"
I sensed the devil was tempting me in this nefarious plot.
Whispering, "Go ahead, have a hunk of that devil's food cake;
I'm sure the Lord and the preacher will overlook one mistake!"
I must admit, to that crafty seducer I did succumb,
Even snatching a few cookies, eating every crumb!
I later mused on this, wondering, "What would Jesus have done?"
I suspect He'd say, "Would you share some goodies with me, My son?"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
beside the dirty wall there was a shadow,
the signs painted by some graffiti artist
made even less sense in the dark.
lying on the damp floor was the skinny dog.
stare into my bird's eye.
it seemed to say get out,
this hell is mine alone.
so I threw a piece of bread
that I had in my beak.
he salivated and snapped.
the next step was a caress with my wing.
was conquered.
so we made this kind of alliance.
now he follows me around town.
two savages without destiny.
but soon we will be three,
for the skittish cat meowed at us.
sure we will form legion,
let's occupy that hole in the hill,
coming down when hunger strikes,
then we will attack all the buffets,
scandalize the bourgeois,
co-opt the cockatiels,
the turtles and the badgers,
time to attack in pack,
this land will be ours again.
where is my common denominator
vindicated solemn alma mater
the isolator reason is confiscated
coming on something major
disbursed and allocated
validated the troubles are agitated
violated im humble yet amputated
partly i waited, my terror was salivated
complicated paired efficiency allocative
my dreaming is killing me rot
screaming and thinking of stop
its hurting believe it or not
scorpions relieving the spot
what am I
pushing a heavy relevance
gushing all this emotion
danger my favorite element
lusty and thirsty decadent
wasnt my final precedent
cursing a current president
distracted from painful residence
i know thats no excuse
ignored forms of abuse
maybe i was just used
where was i confused
That Day In ‘73
That day in ‘73 was as clear and pristine as glass ice,
Torched by a brace of smitten souls falling in love.
There was no lush music to be heard in this duet,
No swiveling rhythms or conga lines for the long dance,
Nay, these two lovers found quiet shade and a fantasy,
Parked intimately beneath a black walnut tree in August.
I saw the sun peeking at us through rustling green leaves.
You and I made constant eye contact and talked
Incessantly in the dallying breeze as the hours
Strutted forward like a striking drum beating silence.
Our eyes and mouths salivated with each salty utterance.
You talked with a Texas drawl showing white lusty teeth
As you sat cross legged showing bare brown gams,
Slender and shining as polished chrome on a new statue.
Who could have known then it would end up a naked failure,
A meteoric plunge from utter infatuation to the deep abyss of
Dysfunctional love, strangled by fiascos of precision and symmetry,
Of heightened expectations canceled in the sweating darkness,
The inability of breaching the sweetened walls, the ripe walls,
Of this nineteen year old mansion hidden below the tracks, with
This well-shaped Saturday night walking around with nothing on.
That day in ’06 was as cold and overcast as icy black dirt,
Casting a pall of paralyzing grief the size of a granite temple;
There was subdued string music emanating from a boom box,
As the mother and her living sisters stepped up to see the body,
The sunken tan face that once spoke with a sultry Texas drawl,
Once lay naked in the breast-kissing darkness with eyes staring up;
Now the shining statue sleeps with Cancer there, being kissed again.
8/29/21
If I knew
Why did I do
What I knew
I shouldn't do
There's been a lot of damage taken
The devil continually advocated
I've successfully acclimated
It's gone beyond being infatuated
I've been addlepated
Taking medicine that is encapsulated
Off the THC and liquor I'm activated
Really animated
Until I overdo it and am incapacitated
Deep down feeling aggravated
And agitated
Because for too long, I've been captivated
It all needs to be recalculated
In order to be calibrated
In life losing interest or fascinated
Stories holding truth or being fabricated
It was accurate or poorly translated
At odds or for a better cause they amalgamated
It grossed them out or they salivated
Meanwhile limbs being saved or getting amputated
The terrain bone dry or still saturated
The winner lived another day, the loser got decapitated
The target got taken out or was not assassinated
Areas spotless or thoroughly contaminated
Buildings that are pristine and others dilapidated
The droplets of water remained or evaporated
All this focus on who is and isn't vaccinated
It's spot on or exaggerated
What's been done was not right
Occurring outside of work or at the job site
R.I.P. to another lost life
Too many people think they're godlike
Obsessed with the spotlight
When they're soft and sweet like a Klondike
At times had to use the fog lights
No fun experiencing a vicious dog bite
Always getting plastered
Is as useful as a fat turd
You've got it all twisted and backwards
What's the password?
You're really getting on my last nerve
Time I Knock you into Saturn
None of it really matters
Going on with changes in the pattern
Born a bastard
Skills that have yet to be mastered
By God Trump Was Called
By God Trump for President was called;
God would put it off and surely stalled;
Same old story;
Incriminatory;
With Trump's hot sins we were scalded.
Could tell by Trump's tempestious style;
For him wanted to make us walk a mile;
Trump a tortoise,
With rigor mortis;
For a camel who he did want to defile.
We were baffled by Trump's many blunders;
Born with bone spurs never 90 day wonders;
Food at commisary,
Did cause dysentary;
He caused terrible spells we had been under.
With Trump's health he had a horrible time;
He had created missing links in each chime;
Me release,
From police;
Committed crime when his ladder did climb.
Problems with Trump could be contributed,
To shady deals and not equally distributed;
So had salivated,
While we waited;
Nothing at all to church had he contributed.
Now that we are perturbed and preplexed,
What do you think Trump tried to do next;
Lack of full deck;
Complete wreck;
With him as President became very vexed.
Jim Horn
I had never been in a house before but about a week ago I fell onto a straw hat, and rode her into the house. The straw hat was not edible, so I tried to get comfortable in a small sewing box, but I kept running into pointy things after I burrowed in, and they hurt. Ouch!
Next I climbed up a green wall and sat in a glow-bulb. This bulb went from cool, to warm, to hot, to unbearably hot in a short amount of time, so I climbed out of the glow fixture and made a slow methodical climb down onto a bed where sat a cloth doll. She looked nice and cozy, but on first bite I knew this was not something I could latch onto and enjoy.
I soon discovered a yipping thing. My cousin had told me about dogs. It looked promising, but I knew I would have to wait until the yipping thing was asleep. I salivated as I thought about how tasty a dog is reported to be. It seemed to take hours for the dog to go to sleep. Delightfully tasty my cousin had said, but have you ever tried to take a bite of curly thick fur? After six tries I gave up.
A large snoring giant was next to the yippy thing. I had heard about giants, but I had never burrowed into one. It took me almost all night to go from the feet to the head. Once at the giant’s scalp, I burrowed in, and it was delightful. A taste of paradise. Shangri-La!
Luckily, I was not discovered for three glorious days; best vacation I ever had. A feast for the gods, and I could eat whenever I wanted until a few minutes ago when the giant did a tick check, and found me. I was promptly put onto a soft white fluffy thing. I am right now taking a raft ride down a swirling river. A fabulous week! I would recommend this to everybody!