Full Moon Sable

I bake you cookies
in the night quiet.
A hundred sugars cover my hands,
like talc on moist fingers,
no matter how hard I try.
I mean to feed you a new cookie
as you dream in your bed in darkness.
You never notice the crumbs
until you wake and wipe them
into your mouth in a sweet fever.
Leaving only a last few
lost in your silken folds
that you demand I search out.
My fault for baking a
tender cookie.

Orchard

In the dining room
quiet in the summer heat.
Bowl of peaches
fragrant as a verdant dream.
Out the tall window,
squirrels chasing.

Stopping the Wheel

In the space of a fine glass our life glows.
Your heart and mine from out of innocence
flown together and spun away like young crows.
Now time's good seal, transferred rouge cements.
Curious valence called me to you early
when your self was fresh and new, dark houri,
like my own two eyes blue, blond hair curly
two seedling redwoods, pairing of glory.
And now your body tattooed, my eyes dimmed,
we seek oblivion by drink washing clean.
Our foggy tale told, the two ne'er sinned,
now taste, sip, swallow the liquor unseen.
It stops, that daylight titan for we two
Damaged goslings shared this, the echoing through.

Jaded

I can't stand still,
I'm drunk off my ass,
Vodka and Pepsi just don't mix!
I dunno what to do,
I think I'm gonna die,
Just catch me now
So I don't smash my head on the ground.

Holy sh*t,
I think I'm gonna hurl,
So just stand far away from me.
My mouth is swollen up,
I got a f*cked up sense of taste.
My head is aching all over,
Just kill me now and end my misery!

And that my friends, is Jaded!

BTW, is this getting annoying? If so, mission accomplished!

Untitled as of yet

Lots of people will post poetry they just wrote two minutes earlier, so I will try it too. Don't criticize me too bad, this is my first try. : )
Untitled as of yet

tick, tick, tick,
the clock continuously
clicks and it ticks
as more time passes,
and still the
tap, tap, tap
of the tree against
the window
drives me crazy,
so the tick,
the tick,
the tick is in my hair,
get it OUT!

As I tap, tap, tap
my restraints against
the cold, hard, metal bed
I lay upon and
stare blank eyed
towards the window to freedom
my life blood
drip,
drip,
drips
from the severed veins
once again torn open,
and my time
tick, tick, ticks
and is up.

Alright, that was really weird for me. I've never just sat there and written something that other people were going to see without revising it a hundred or so times. So, I apologize if it sucks, but oh well. Little effort was put into it. ; )

~Ciara, Dragonback rider

What a woman says:
"This place is a mess! C'mon!
You and I need to clean up!
Your stuff is lying on the floor and
you'll have no clothes to wear if we
don't do laundry right now!"

What a man hears:
blah, blah, blah, blah, C'MON
blah, blah, blah, blah, YOU AND I
blah, blah, blah, blah, ON THE FLOOR
blah, blah, blah, blah, NO CLOTHES
blah, blah, blah, blah, RIGHT NOW

Lighter in my hand,
I set the trash can ablaze
And run like hell

"POEM: Peanut Butter."

Peanut butter I do seek
For the strong and the meek
So they may love with all their hearts
The delicious nectar that summons farts
Though by society it is shunned
It's fragrant nature soon shall stun
The masses from whence it came
And then they may only blame
Themselves for the pungent stench
Brought by the unwashed spectral wench
Of their own darkest, deepest evil
From the depths of dark upheaval
Within their colons of shining gold
Singing songs from days of old
And dancing to the merry tune
Of the happy gas that comes too soon
Or too late, to the weak of mind
Who cannot appreciate the behind
In the way that it was meant to be
As a musical, whimsical, happiness tree
That sprouts, each day, the golden fruits
Who bring about the most divine toots
In conclusion, I dare say
I eat a barrel everyday
For to not, would be so sad
Not to give thanks to the little lad
That we hath brought onto the Earth
Full of happy pooping mirth
Only to turn our hairy backs to him
Would be an act of mortal sin
Lastly, we must thank the Lord
For the love of the pooping gourd
Amen.
This poem was made by anger.

Anger would like to thank the following for their contributions:
Zypher
Duke
Ritz Bits Sanwiches
Skippy
Jiff
Caffeine