Cheek(A) Poems - Poems about Cheek(A)

Thank You For Calling

Thank you for calling Your Destruction.

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…Please hold…please hold…please hold…please

Exposing The Other Cheek

Shaking my head, back and forth 

Will someone slap me, please 

Over and over, again and again 

Please.  Slap some sense ... into me

Slap me.  Slap me, pretty please 

Slap, some more sense into me 

Seriously, slap me silly 

Slap me to my knees 

Allow me to become a flower

Exposing me, at my

Peace Holds Trouble At Woman's Subtle Cheek

Peace holds trouble at woman's subtle cheek:
Pale, inviting and warm enough to kiss
Attentively with regards, seeming freak.

Shielded close to her open lips, eyes seek
Patiently... so moment goes not amiss,
Peace holds trouble at woman's subtle cheek.

On top her chest's fountain lies tips so meek,
Choice could travel its miles without a hiss,
Attentively with regards, seeming freak.

Labelling tricks

My mother's hands are dove wings, gently caressing my cheek

My mother's hands are dove wings, gently caressing my cheek,
"My beautiful girl," she whispers, and her words peel off me like dead skin,
How dare she love this shell, this body that bears the burden of shadows?
How dare she kneel in my ruins, planting flowers where only thorns can grow?
I wish to open my ribs, to

Dissonance a Forked Tongue in Cheek

You sound like a fingernail
dragged over a blackboard.
Every word cast as blackmail
from a forked tongue in cheek.
Bathed in the vile, bile of diatribe,
masticated to be flung as dung expelled.
Your snarled words reek with 
the dissonant cadence of discordance.
As your eyes flicker
from side to side with lies,
you look away, unable 
to face me, eye to eye,
unmasked,
unshielded,
nakedly

Arthur Rimbaud translations of Antico, Reve Pour l'hiver and Dawn

Arthur Rimbaud Translations of Antico (“Ancient” or “Antique”), Rêvé Pour l'hiver (“Winter Dream”), and Dawn



Antico (“Ancient” or “Antique”)
by Arthur Rimbaud
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Graceful son of Pan! Around your brow, crowned with flowers and berries, your eyes, lustrous spheres, revolve. Your cheeks, stained with wine sediments, seem hollow. Your white fangs gleam. Your lyre-like

Cheek

Only in time do I see it unwinding 
Its like I’m searching for something I’m not finding 
So cliche but Ive really I’ve been trying 
And straight to my face you’ve been lying 
I don’t believe you or really any words you speak
It’s okay I forgive you and I’ll try to turn the other cheek

Turn the other cheek

She barks, "Turn your cheek!"
She leaves her handprint on it.
"And now the other!"

Bite My Tongue-N-Cheek

You shouldn’t ‘ve said that, bite your tongue
You said I look old, but you know I’m still young
If ever a wiz a wiz there is ??
I’ll bite my tongue and feel its fizz
You said I look fat, or something like that
and that I’m a tired,  bitter ol bat
You know I’m a sweet young dainty

Tongue In Cheek

Preaching to the choir
one more like will do
Beating the last dying horse
postings stay as new
I’ll read yours if you’ll read mine
lined up in the queue
I’ll say yes if you agree
— who is kidding who

(The New Room: March, 2024)

Cheek and Charm

A month without you
It hardly seems true
The days they just drag
Like some lingering flu

I miss all those chats
With the cheek and the charm
I wonder if, maybe
Would a call be no harm?

I reel myself in
No of course, that's not fair
Reminding I'm here
And you're way over there

Nonetheless, it's not pretty
This dark empty space
The void here inside
Well, it

In the evening hour, when silvery tears embroider your delicate cheek

In the evening hour, when silvery tears embroider your delicate cheek,
The celestial blue from the depth of your eyes, lost stars,
Gently rest upon the tender altar of love that binds us,
A fragile bridge suspended between the white peace of summer and the tumultuous heart of autumn.
We thirstily drink the mysterious elixir, a nectar not even

Good Morning!

I love the mornings
That is the best time to rise
The purest part of day.

I’m an early bird
No one else is awake yet
I smell my coffee

The quiet of mornings
Is when I'm most connected
A sacred time for me

I wake it’s still dark
I feel refreshed and ready
And kiss morning’s cheek

Tongue In Cheek-The Grind

Tongue in cheek - Tongue-in-cheek describes an exaggerated facial gesture — pushing a cheek out with one's tongue — meant to convey contempt or irony. (defined by vocabulary.com)

Tongue in Cheek-The Grind

the grind, prefer dark;
shifting teeth do not agree -
the worst habit, under moon.

squeeze a tube of paste.
superglue the parts to each -
only metaphorically.

1/28/2023

Bare Faced Cheek

Bare Faced Cheek
I’m a night wanderer of streets
Once was picked up by the police
Thinking I was a sneaky thief
The truth is that I just don’t sleep 
I pleaded down upon my knee
Eventually was set free.

They could not put me in a cell
Because I'd said that I wasn't well
So I saunter o’er lonesome road
I’ll do a

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