Tongue Poems - Poems about Tongue

Dragon tongue Ill be your dragon I see your smile Through your alien face I didn't mean to abandon you In time when the army needs us most Without the mass graves How can we take this land Just leave em for dead But don't kill them That beautiful spot On the hill with the flowers in bloom Now could be someone's tomb Forfeit the blue...

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I speak English— not because it is mine, but because it was burned into the soft clay of my childhood. They called it brilliance when I spoke the master's tongue, and shame when I whispered my grandmother’s lullaby. But language is not just words— it is blood, it is soul, it is memory coded in sound. Africa, how can you rise when you dream in the syllables of strangers? When...

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**Some Tongue Fun (Writtem for Peter Piper) To pen a poem a day May scare some muses away, so Pam’s poems purr past peaceful people and Master Milo’s mollifymany muses....

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There's a lot to be said for silence but you won't hear it from me I'm satisfied tongue-tied as the less said the more I see and even if the point is moot 'tis a wise owl who don't give a hoot YY UR YY UB IC UR YY 4 ME (Too wise you are too...

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This is the hour Words from mouths that sour Sometimes unclean and censure Get the picture Anguish and aggravation Every turn a detour Diverse and aggravation Uncontrollable tongue Tasteless ears Questionable thought How and where Through the hour, and second mouth event Time after time Word note Negative phrase sometimes becomes a positive gesture Not thinking and unresolving Think before one speaks Open up in expression having truth Mirror reflect, what do you...

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My voice broke on the edge of breath. We stripped the bark from our ribs like trees to find no center. Blood is a language we forgot in churches. I held your absence like a flame burning under my tongue, while skin remembers the names we never spoke. I was becoming not better just closer to the fracture before the old name. And you fell into me like a glyph not carved. We did not rise we undressed....

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As my words "cascade" off my tongue, onto the "myriad" of blank pages. Each letter will slowly "slither," slither into a "serpentine" of sentences. As I stop to read, will the pages "lilt" to me? With tired eyes I see a "nebula" bright night, as I look out my huge window at the "lunar" light....

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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...

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As a kid I wouldn’t of thought that this is how it was, For every feeling of giving up, For every kick of the drum; My heart would call my bluff. As as a kid all I wanted was a feeling I could grow up, Living how I want, I wonder if that’s really enough...

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In the beginning, there was salt. It hung in the air like unfinished scripture, gathered in the throat of the sea, waited for a mouth dumb enough to mistake thirst for an invitation. Then butter, smeared on the void like gossip, greased the dark’s knuckles like an understudy, taught the abyss to melt. The first sound was not speech— it was a swallow, a hush, a...

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Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself." ~...

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Her skin, a velvet sin, a scripture I recite with the tip of my tongue, melts like dark chocolate, bitter and sweet on my hungry lips, pouring confessions in breathless whispers, a dance of endless desire. I pull her closer, white-knuckled on silk sheets, intoxicated by the ecstasy between her thighs, a paradise lost and found, a pleasure so intense...

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old gold chocolate egg unwrapped from foil melts in mouth provokes pure bliss...

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All these dark and secret places only I have known and explored. The hidden other-world of lips and teeth and tongue. Mine alone for these many years. The tastes, both bitter and sweet. The feel of my mouth, the sensitive swollen softness of my bottom lip between a gentle bite. I scrape it along my...

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In this woke world I’d soon be hung If I had had your spiteful tongue How ironic that its wagging Only stopped when you were gagging And as I tried to grab the shard Of chicken bone that was stuck hard I grappled with what I could grip And when you flinched… I heard a rip You spasmed like you’d just been stung And...

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