Smooth
i want words
to be smooth
smoothly said
and smoothly
understood
like rum sliding
in my throat
directly inside
my belly
smooth as tiles
on the floor
effervescent as
your breath in
my mouth.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Direct To The Point
when the sun lights the grass
there is no detour
it likes it done directly like a
candid shot of
margarita
i like it that way too
straight to my
mouth sliding smoothly into my
throat
there are no rocks that block
my river
no 'on the other hand' or 'what ifs'
that grow in my path
i like it when you tell me
straight from the heart
i like this pain that stabs me right
my eyes not blinking
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Gliding In The Air
A bird is wrestling the wind with its feathers,
Even then the flight is smooth, as smooth as the air.
Best of the eagles are against the flight of others,
Eventually they look like a mouth, as smooth as the air.
A strange spectacle has been captured in the rain,
After a bird, not reptile, does fly south, as smooth as the air.
When strangers bespeak a multifarious journey through the air,
I gather it is more than just levitation or youth, as smooth as the air.
I love the young journey to the east,
A happy rhythm up north, as smooth as the air.
Why do we hesitate to look powerful?
When we glide in the sky, as smooth as the air.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Ball Bearing
If every one is like me
Then the world will move very smoothly
These are the words
In the mouths of every one
But the question is
Do you know who are you?
If you know yourselves well
There will be no problems at all
I know myself
I am the ball bearing
I use grease to avoid frictions
If everyone would like me
Then the world would have been moved very smoothly.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Reflection 0.l
we live in this same house it is big
and the living room is having three sofas
and the stairs are narrow
like a single bamboo
it is designed in such a way that departure is nil
that we must get inside and never bother thinking about getting out
we know leaving is extremely painful even if there is a promise that someday
wounds can heal and we take pride that we have forgotten
but leaving is a reality it is flood a deluge
and we are invaded with water and we drown
that is how we feel when we speak about stairs and roads
you know i write this because i remember
you see how smooth is my skin and there is no sign that there was once a wound here
it is only you who knows where it is but i will not ask you anymore for details
we speak about something else about the boat the wend sliding smoothly under the bridge and the man that sang you a song when you pass overhead like a bird flying away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Tyring To Be Smooth In Speech
this morning i read
some notes
about myself and i notice how i tried to be
smooth
in my speech as my notes still want to insist
ethical considerations
the motif of my day, the struggle to be always
calm and cool
the war against the tendency
to hurt another without our conscious knowing
but
all seems to be
a kind of futile attempt to be kind
and gentle
like a dog wagging its tail when you meet
along the doorsteps
of your house
i open some pages again of my
diary
or journal of the day
on a cup of tea
and two pieces of cookies
at first the language flows like a river
clear and
i even tasted a cup of its water
smooth to my
esophagus
and cool to my gum and i think
sweet, even sweet to my tongue
and i can feel
it flowing again smoothly
to my intestines
and then here i am finally
vomiting
i suppose nostalgia
is nothing but
nausea, the speech of loneliness
about a memory
long gone and very far away
the words are smooth
and then
somehow they kill
i close the journal at once
i open the window
let the air come in
as i wait for the morning sun
to shine and then
warm me a bit
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sleep II
She holds a soft cloth over my mouth
Whispers it will be alright-my nostrils burn
Her lips are on mine. Her embrace is so close,
Massive, dark as every dark, heavy with the weight of all things.
I am born down and down, ears,
Nostrils, throat, into each orifice she runs
Like the sea into the ruins of an antique city,
Eddies in my belly, relaxes my limbs,
Her ckeek is not rough, her hair smooth and mink-like.
I can see her heavy-lidded, half-closed eyes
My eyelids fall shut, my mouth falls open
My tongue falls to the back of my throat, everything falls,
I do not want her. I regret my huge obligation
Yet it is good to be held so, immobilized,
But strangely free to range, the night is for us.
What shall...
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Your Woulda Be Smooth
If you treat me decently,
I'd be the last one to scratch your number.
If you treat me decently,
I'd put the sandpaper to rough lumber.
If you treat me decently...
Your woulda be smooth.
If you treat me decently,
I'd be the last one to scratch your number.
If you treat me decently,
I'd put the sandpaper to rough lumber.
If you treat me decently...
Your woulda be smooth.
No shoulda coulda.
Your woulda be smooth.
No suit too loose.
Your woulda be smooth.
No loot to boot.
Your woulda be smooth.
And you can do anything you wish to do,
Cause...
Your woulda be smooth!
If you wanna stay cute,
You've gotta keep your mouth muted.
And...
your woulda be smooth.
If you treat me decently,
I'd be the last one to scratch your number.
If you treat me decently,
I'd put the sandpaper to rough lumber.
If you treat me decently...
Your woulda be smooth.
No shoulda coulda.
Your woulda be smooth.
No suit too loose.
Your woulda be smooth.
No loot to boot.
Your woulda be smooth.
And you can do anything you wish to do,
Cause...
Your woulda be smooth!
If you wanna stay cute,
You've gotta keep your mouth muted,
And...
Your woulda be smooth!
If you want to be the one to put your business in the streets,
That wouldn't be cool!
If you want to be the one to keep your business in the streets,
Go ahead and be a fool!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Nothing
Nothing's ensconced
Nothing's entrenched
Nothing's entangled or twisted or wrenched
Everything smoothly flows right through my head
What I hoped might linger is swept off instead
Tunnels and channels and chasms and rifts
Shiny smooth streams and unclimbable cliffs
I see you there ever so slowly being drawn to the sea
As if by some signal that's unheard by me
I stand on a featureless sheet of blue stone
And then for one instant I'm not quite alone
Your hand is extended but then you rescind
And you like my thoughts are borne off by the wind.
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Untitled Two
Rolling and twirling slivers of pink,
frills and ambiguous contours
made rise, on their rosy
smooth feet, everyone
with an eye to behold as
those with slippers held their frames
still.
Flashes caught only pearls and glistens,
the physical,
standing high and leaping higher;
whispers caught only memories
from the ambrosia seeping from their breath
and twirling breeze.
But as silk slid smoothly, between
the elegance and admiration, between
pink and blue, rose and flesh -
light was absent,
perfume capped -
The sweet stars descended to fallen streets
and reposed while off their tip toes
poem by Shelby Barker
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During Class, Untitled
Rolling and twirling slivers of pink,
frills and ambiguous contours
made rise, on their rosy
smooth feet, everyone
with an eye to behold as
those with slippers held their frames
still.
Flashes caught only pearls and glistens,
the physical,
standing high and leaping higher;
whispers caught only memories
from the ambrosia seeping from their breath
and twirling breeze.
But as silk slid smoothly, between
the elegance and admiration, between
pink and blue, rose and flesh -
light was absent,
perfume capped -
The sweet stars descended to fallen streets
and reposed while off their tip toes
poem by Shelby Barker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Calling Voice
A familiar voice calls to you.
What will you do?
Holler back and take the slack?
Or run and hide turn your back?
It's up to you to see it through.
It's calling now to only you.
Will you look now to find the truth?
To find lifes answers and make it smooth.
I hope you will I need it too.
Together we'll finally beat the blues.
In our love we'll smoothly cruise.
I'm calling now to let you know.
I'm always here and my love does show.
Will you stay or will you go?
Please humor me and let me know.
poem by Michael McParland
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Interactive
I write some lines and you read each word
A word excites you and you take it up to
Seed your fields where you grow your own
Shrubbery of words with tendrils climbing
I look at your garden of words and there is
This word growing into a flower attracting
Me I pick it up this sensual flower and I
Seed it in the lines of my mind now another
Bunch of words like ripe grapes I take one
Swallow it and savor the taste of its sweetness
More lines of words in my throat sliding
Through the lining of my esophagus so smooth
Going straight inside the veins leading to my heart
Sweet, so sweet I could have written the usual
Lines of “ I love you, I miss you” but I couldn’t
There is this roadblock, this writer’s block
The lines stopped, the words are stunted
I stutter, I retreat to my eyes, to see
The face of this woman I love, her eyes
Are gentle, she smiles at me, and waits
For this beautiful silence that gives her life
You stand there, looking for a hint, another
Word to seed the lines waiting to be written.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Words Get Stuck In My Throat
If I had a tiny microphone
Hidden in my heart
It would amplify my love for you
But the words get stuck in my throat
The words get stuck in my throat
If I had a little viewmaster
Stuck inside my brain
It would snap the pictures all of you.
But the words get stuck in my throat
The words get stuck in my throat
If I had a telegraph
Tapping in my brain
It would tap the morse code I love you.
But the words get stuck in my throat
The words get stuck in my throat
Hey, hey, hey
Whatd I say?
Everyday!
The words get stuck in my throat (repeating)
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Words Get Stuck In My Throat (live)
If i had a tiny microphone
Hidden in my heart
It would amplify my love for you
But the words get stuck in my throat
The words get stuck in my throat
If i had a little viewmaster
Stuck inside my brain
It would snap the pictures all of you.
But the words get stuck in my throat
The words get stuck in my throat
If i had a telegraph
Tapping in my brain
It would tap the morse code "i love you."
But the words get stuck in my throat
The words get stuck in my throat
Hey, hey, hey
What'd i say?
Everyday!
The words get stuck in my throat (repeating)
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Want It Smooth And Classy
i like to have a glass
of wine shaped in the body
of a beautiful woman
i like to drink
something smooth and
classy flowing inside
my throat
on an evening like this.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You padlock a butterfly
Hey my Girlie! the nursery teacher
you taught me to spell love
and how to love smoothly
instead of nursery rhymes.
It's all over like in a movie.
I am a desperado in a nursing home.
Sitting on an isolated bench
And I recognized you from afar,
Your exceptional smile.
Oh! you are designated as a new Matron to this desperate home.Anyway I hope that you will teach me
Your Toy boy, again the spelling of love
And how to love politely not smoothly as earlier?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Nice Brand New Car...
inside the nice brand new luxury car
(and hence very expensive) rides a body that drives smoothly on the
road to the sin city,
inside the tinted glass window with a remote control
screams his rotten soul....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Making Love To A New Person
i do not wait quite that long to have you.
i like your hair, you had it cut finally.
short, but still silky, i touch each lock
like the way i feel
wool, sliding my hands behind you
and then
my finger lands between your lips,
not for anything else,
i do not want any word from you,
neither from me,
this is the moment i have been waiting for
all my life
to be with you, on this short moment,
like your short hair
i feel your lips close to mine,
i savor your breath
unto my own mouth,
your spirit unto mine, i breathe
through each lock,
silky, smooth,
too lovely still,
now, i die embraced by the
understanding of your
arms.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Got A New Satin Jockey
IT FEELS so smooth on my skin
deep down under my
thighs i feel like a
god
my inner glands
are so curious about something
smooth and new
and tickling
like your feather dusters
and i like you looking at me
like i am a
born-again christian
on the other hand what really matters
is not this satin jockey
it is still what is bobbing inside
that really counts
feel it like your
throbbing heart
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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