chocolate tonight
vanilla ice cream delight
clock late wait sleep tight
the pen is like the sun, it rises in the east and sets in the west
connie pachecho
8/26/25
Squirrel
My friends are such a squirrelly bunch,
they like to eat nuts for lunch.
And when you think they are done,
they eat some seeds just for fun.
By
Josehf Lloyd Murchison
Let me see
something fine,
smiley eyes.
Let me hear
something nice,
words of love.
Let me feel
something good,
smooth caress.
At
the
end
of
the
day,
we’re
all
a
part
of
the
same
sunset.
Beneath a sky just brushed with gold,
Scott met a voice he used to hold—
Christina's laugh, a spark, a flame,
That time had dimmed but not untamed.
They talked as if the years had fled,
In verses spun from things unsaid.
Each word a thread, each smile a sign,
Two poets tracing back a line.
The coffee cooled, the hours flew,
Yet every glance felt strange and new.
She spoke of storms and calmer seas,
He listened close, he let her be.
He wiped a tear that slipped her cheek,
Not out of sorrow—just too deep.
The kind of feeling soft and slow,
That only wounded hearts can
His heart is full and she can tell,
For her own heart felt this as well.
No rush, no scripts, no grand design—
Just wondering if stars align.
He cares, but lets the silence speak,
No promises, just week by week.
One date, one poem, one subtle chance,
To share a spark, a second dance.
She writes, he reads—then he replies,
In quiet ink beneath wide skies.
Two souls who once had slipped apart,
Now writing stanzas of the heart.
Scott W.
If someday we do profess
Wear your brand new midi dress,
Fun shoes, denim jacket too
No one else but me and you
I'll tie my hair back, nice cologne
Cheshire boots will set the tone
A quiet moment with no fuss
'Til later on when it's just us
I saw god near a pawnshop today:
He had a crack pipe and
a crooked smile.
When he asked me for
a quarter, I gave it to
him.
And that’s when he
told me of his
omnipotence.
What a neat
guy.
Wood polished so bright to mimic gold,
Its yellow coat glitters in the sun,
May even fetch a high price when sold,
And still be cherished in the long run.
Like a flawless gold that flaunts great wealth,
Its glamour, a pride to regal thrones,
Where most kings recline in pride and health,
Yet it's mere wood disguised as gemstones.
Great craftsmanship like that of goldsmiths,
Who shape raw gold to forge pure beauty,
So carpenters carve wood into myths,
Emblazoned pride into their duty.
In the light I see the dark.
As blank as the silence is in my heart
Moving on I feel nothing but a lot
I know inside I am neither fresh nor rot.
Days I spend thinking about my own life
Whose wish is a happy dad and his living wife
A lively home and a peaceful room
Where I write every while.
In the light I see the dark.
As blank as the silence is in my heart
Moving on I feel nothing but a lot
I know inside I am neither fresh nor rot.
Days I spend thinking about my own life
Whose wish is a happy dad and his living wife
A lively home and a peaceful room
Where I write every while.
‘Por favor’ means ‘for a favor’
‘cos that’s what ‘please’ is about
A pleasant way to request one’s desire ~
unlike ‘our leaders’ who scream and who shout
Spring
brings
Paradise.
Farewell
to Winter's
warm fires.
Cuddling
time
expires.....
There is no use saying sorry
I don't have the time to bend you
over backwards and push this all inside.
So take all your broken pieces
Brush your past aside
I can't forgive you today. but we
have the rest of our lives
So say you love me tomorrow,
Tomorrow we will be just fine
we can start another ending
we have the rest of our lives.
I am tired.
Usually in a “life has sapped itself out”
But that isn’t what this is about.
I. Am. Tired.
Of my stupid styrofoam smile
Squeaking under pressure all the while.
I am tired.
Of being walkedranmoppedraked overthroughon.
And of being treated as dumb spawn or clueless pawn.
I am calm, patient, quiet, KIND.
In the midst of grossness others spew against and on my mind.
However. My still hand does NOT mean
That I don’t find your way of existing obscene.
I may not lift my finger,
But damn does wavering will barely linger.
I am so tired of tulips and fields and eggshells.
I am ready for mortars, more ammo, some bombshells.
I am so tired of being the go-to-friend.
You know I’ll be there in the end.
I am so tired of “can I, may I, if it’s not too much”
After a while, doesn’t tired become the crutch?
Tired, exhausted, drained, and used.
Perhaps from the next I must recuse
Myself not because interests conflicted,
But rather because you don’t deserve a finger lifted.
I am so tired of being my warmth of fiery nice.
I’m so tempted to just let it all go.
Be discompassionate ice.
Specific Types of Nice Poems
Read wonderful nice poetry on the following sub-topics:
birthday, christmas, friends, funeral, her, him, life, love, mom, roses are red, teachers, wedding
and more.
Definition | What is Nice in Poetry?
Poems Related to Nice
cordial, kind, good, okay, fair, superior, swell, welcome, winning, lovely, friendly, admirable, amiable, approved, attractive, becoming, charming, commendable, considerate, courteous, decorous, delightful, favorable, genial, gentle