Fish flesh ceiling marinades evening in mandarin
Paprika streaks Alaskan sky, an exploded pumpkin
Garish stretch marks bruise tumid buttocks
Jack-o'-lantern flicker silhouettes summits
Door open draught steers me over masts, a compass
North chill Turmeric tingle bitterness burns sun jus
Snuffs frail wick candle into cavern skull sockets
Frigid fuselage discarded from flamboyant firey rocket
Hulls doubled on calm harbour curl fetal forget me not
Petal precious postcard sends rocking sleep to yachts
Resistant pristine peaks poke holes blood gush painful
Ski slid accident on apex restores pale flesh to angel
Pressed panes mist to witness her wings in awe, glory!
Nest of pick up sticks prickle, due dusk warns me
Crept shadows of chalets' thatched porches protect
Navy as battle ships torn apart, needle inks inject
brick oven
blue sky
the
scent of
gingerbread
everywhere
said
i
while
the
sweet
atmosphere
marinades
your
soul
with
ginger smiles lighter than air
I know I do this every time I think of you
I end up with a stiff little pickle and in a flipping mess
Now I know you think it’s saucy and like to have a laugh
But I’m the one with spicy piccalilli all over my flaming lap
I relish the challenge in being a pickle in a tight squeeze
For this little pickle marinades himself in honey from a bee
You may think that a pickle and honey wouldn’t go together
But I can rest assure you they are actually the spice of life
A condiment together, and though you chutney sometimes
I always relish dipping my little pickle in your honey pot
Can’t wait to savoury spread your legs and syrup my pickle in
For honey you are the sweetest dessert that there’s ever been.
ps: If you ever need to find me I’ll be in the supermarket isle - savouries and sauces.
Standing accolades the seasoned marinades aside the broken bread and broth Good meat comes in grades cutting the cloth are bubbles in the froth
Her breath smells of lemonade, she’s my serenade, her love rest inside my love where it marinades, she’s my parade, my celebration, my festival, my extraterrestrial vegetable, that I love 2 eat, I bow down, I kiss her feet, her lower lips spread apart, filled with a passionate heat, so pink -n- so sweet, petite -n- unique, a modish freak, the one that compliments -n- completes me, her love is a powerful grenade, her breath smells of lemonade, my serenade, I enjoy the freshness -n- the fragrance of the words she say.
’ ‘’’’’ ‘’ ‘
this thing called time ; i can't quite pin down
the humor, the thrill, and the pang ,
how it marinades or starts to evaporate
to the point that days look bright or dim,
while life zooms on some borrowed ride
then snuffs a longing smile, a booming cry
right down to the ground…my, oh my!
the next moment or come near daybreak;
i pick my feet up to embrace yesterday’s shocks
plucking joy for sweet love to share around,
then redeem a truant relapse moody time …
darn! i try to feel it, blurt it, taste it, and exclaim,
“what a joyful world !” , even when traffic sucks!
©
*small caps are intentionally used
For Russell Sivey: Tons of Comma Fun
Written by: nette onclaud
Culinary resonations my senses please
Blowtorch trimming the tapering of cheese
Cremated lactations dance on the fan’s breeze
Crab forks impaling young peas
Lightly dusting salt of the seas
Grindings of exotic teas
Marinades my taste buds tease
These strings hum sweetly and,
Paint my heart black.
Black with a hint of bitter temptation.
Like the lust on her crimson lips,
Which I do kiss.
To attain a sweet salvation,
That comes and goes like the,
Trickling of sand in an hourglass.
A sweet salvation forever etched,
In my mind as it marinades for eons to come.
Night and day stretch iguana length
Of languor dipped in marinades of fire
And sear me with their tongues of flame and ire,
Play upon my nerves and sap my strength.
All the time the fret of missing strings,
Ghost wires plucked by radar guided hands;
Their chords fall heavy, blackest cumber bands
Wrapped around my head like deathly things.
Keeps you in the stone, the bar and key
Filtered to my life trapped far from you;
The hours beat my feelings black and blue,
Your prison is as much a gaol to me.
Yet true, I plant a flower, sink the seed,
Transform my stem of life and force it grow,
In feeling warmest love in distant flow,
Mere dreams of you fulfil my every need.
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