En.Citatepedia^®.ro

He Tickled Her Pink

There once was a raven haired Shrink
Who had orange Juice Tequilas to drink.

Well her scarlet souled Beau
Sucked her tinted red Toe

And she paled when he tickled her Pink.

poem by Terry O'Leary
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Orange juice

Orange juice mom says drink
When i am sick
It can make me thick
Orange juice i have to pick
licking mom says no
Drinking i have to do
Hate orange juice, mom says i know
Vitamin C it has
And i need to take
for my own sake
Healthy it can make me
Power it can give me
Orange juice
Is all i need
When i am in lead
With the kids at the lake.! :)

poem by michelle al G
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pink, Our Shrink, and Love, I Think

The only things I can think
(Besides think)
That rhyme with pink
Are stink
And wink
And blink
And sometimes I think I need this shrink
Because I hate pink
As the things it rhymes with stink
Like facial functions and thoughts I think
Then write down here in maroon ink
And as said by our shrink
The problem with pink
Is that it can't express the love that I think
And wink
To you as I blink
And now dare to write in maroon ink
As between you and me, it's a link
We both hate the color, I think
Because this poem makes us tickled pink
As we wait in the office of our shrink
Who we hate as much as the color pink

poem by Phoenix Rory
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Remember Raven

Aah! ooh!
Aah! ooh!
While youre busy trying to conjure dirt upon me,
Your ponys sucked dry by an african bee.
The muck you rake is not enough to keep your turd at sea,
Remember the raven,
Remember the raven.
While your busy trying to weigh your power,
Your boats getting into fast water.
Lifes going down the river of no return,
Remember raven,
Remember raven.
Dont try to be a warden to history,
While trying to find a seat for your posterity.
You better tend your garden for your family.
Remember raven,
Remember raven.
Judas never got the key to heaven, you know.
Raven, raven, remember raven,
Remember raven.
Raven, raven, remember raven,
Remember raven.
Raven, raven, raven.

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Green Sour Orange....

first i get an orange
a green orange, the young one
sour, but still
citrus, not pungent
but inviting, not a cure for the
wound, not easing,
it penetrates pain and
makes it more painful,

then i cut the orange,
press it
and press it some more
to get all its juices....

i do not drink it
i leave it in the glass
for all those dark nights

till every juice dries,
till what you see and feel
is the same
emptiness....

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Someday

someday
i like to taste again the glass of orange juice that
you gave me
on that Sunday afternoon
when we were left alone
in the house
of your aunt.

it was so sweet &
so refreshing..

.there is no other glass of orange juice like that
in my lifetime

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Clink For A Drink

Nick thinks and winks
Drinks his finks and makes a
Sync of what stinks
After seeing his shrink

Life is zinc
Not a pink mink
Had a hard dick
And a lip stick

The sky is rosy pink
And this is the data link
Rethink with a soft drink
What happens next
On that skating rink

A marking ink spic
The missing link
salmon pink prick
what a freak!

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pink

A blush of pink:
She'd caught a roving eye -
He gave a wink.
Her smile had played a shy
And quaint florescence;
The siren of pubescence
Drew him in.

She bade him touch her hair,
Suggesting that he dare
To kiss her pulsing lips!
E'er the fool a man, he did:
The drips of blood began to cheer -
And so, another rid:

Tips of fangs are sharp, you know -
Dancing ivory feeds her soul -
See her claim a howl upon a chilling wind!

Slain, he lay across a crimson floor:
She grinned in her repletion.

A blush of pink;
Beneath a glowering sky
Her savoured drink
Was done.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

pink pink pink pink pink pink her blush
pink pink pink pink pink pink her blush
pink pink pink pink pink pink her blush
pink pink pink pink pink pink

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Summer in Calcutta

What is this drink but
The April sun, squeezed
Like an orange in
My glass? I sip the
Fire, I drink and drink
Again, I am drunk
Yes, but on the gold
of suns, What noble
venom now flows through
my veins and fills my
mind with unhurried
laughter? My worries
doze. Wee bubblesring
my glass, like a brides
nervous smile, and meet
my lips. Dear, forgive
this moments lull in
wanting you, the blur
in memory. How
brief the term of my
devotion, how brief
your reign when i with
glass in hand, drink, drink,
and drink again this
Juice of April suns.

poem by Kamala Das
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Pink Pink

pink pink
Confirmed that it was armed
pink pink
Was right to be alarmed
pink pink
Ensured that nought was harmed
pnk pink
Steady hand and mind
pink pink
Micro-chip designed
pink pink
The password was declined
pink pink
Another course to take
pink pink
Caution not to shake
pink pink
Captivity a mistake
pink pink
Beads upon the brow
pink pink
Experience the how
pink pink
No chance to turn back now
pink pink
Be certain not to slip
pink pink
One last wire to snip
pink pink
Two hearts that skip a beat
penk penk
The sound that gives a lift
penk penk
Time to collect the gift
penk penk
The robbery will be swift

poem by Chris Dawson
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Orange juice kiss

A circle of dried, sweet orange juice
Finger to mouth, the taste memories seduce

Memories of that sweet orange juice kiss
Thoughts race to the past and days of bliss

The giggling young angel standing at the bedside
The past and the present, emotions collide

Those glorious hours playing in the park
Warm sunny days before the onset of dark

When long summer day’s end and it’s time to rest
Sweet angel climbs up and lays head on my chest

If there’s one memory that brings me this bliss
It’s the memory of that sweet orange juice kiss

poem by Brian 'Peza' Perrins
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Afternoon Sky

I dream of a sky pink, orange and blue
hughes of purple are scattered there too.
Each color softly fades as the night starts to invade
but until this lovely site is through
I'll look at these colors; pink, orange and blue

poem by Elizabeth Walker
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Bruce Lee

( bullet got the wrong bloke )
Life kid suck
Drink from the box
The juice kicks up
Life give suck the box drink
Yeah
Life kid drink from the box
The juice kicks up
Life kids sucker
Box drink
Yeah
Bruce lee
Life kid seen from the box
Seen from the box
The juice from the box
Kids suck life
Kid get suck from the box
Drink
Bruce lee
Life kid suck from the box
Drink from the box
The juice kicks up
Life kid suck from the box
Drink
Yeah
Bruce lee
Life gets in from the box
Seen from the box
The juice from the box
Kids suck life
Kid get suck from the box
Drink
Bruce lee
Life kid suck from the box
Drink from the box
The juice kicks up
Life kid suck from the box
Drink
Yeah
Bruce lee
( yeah yeah yeah yeah )
Life kid suck from the box
Drink from the box
The juice kicks up
Life kid suck from the box
Yeah
Bruce lee
Life kid ? ? from the box
Seen from the box
Drink from the box
The juice kid suck
Life kid suck the box
Drink
Yeah
Bruce lee
Tanglon
Life kid suck the box [x8]
From the box
( skin hard sails in jail )
( hair always cut with a blunt tool )
( muscular but thin like springs )
( but not steel )
( for ford men )
( four ford men )
( they sell it into vaporizing rulers )
( each way up in his own head )
( hold up in its fly flicking markses )
( piggy little piggy little eyes )
( holds and scape )
( hole in skin )
( just enough to let in light )
( bullet got the wrong bloke )
( but he dont die anyway )
( its nothing mortal if you dont move )
( you still have slot the wall in a blanket )
( I have been this way for days )
Stiff stiff stiff stiff stiff...
( bullet got the wrong bloke )
( its happenned mortuary, you die it means )
( skin has it off the wall and it goes like this )
( I have been this way for days )
(oh no, theres a gun )
( over there under the bed )
( turn, lets see whats in the other room )
( he grew up faster )
( just the disco with the one get my rope )
( pull through again )
( a third rat a fourth to his head is calm the sheets of calm )
( bullet got the wrong bloke )
( hes out of the eyes now )
( strained gas on his head )
( its dark, he comes up with his darkness...)
Life kid suck from the box
Drink from the box
The juice kid suck
Life kid suck the box
Yeah
Bruce lee
Tanglon

song performed by by Underworld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Raven

Little raven,
Where did you come from?
Little raven,
With your little black body.
Little raven,
With your long, shinny wings.
Little raven,
In mid flight.
Little raven,
With your frightening caw.
Little raven,
Why are you a sigh of death?

poem by Jameaka Shibles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A man with a pink umbrella

Pink day
Pink hedge
Pink porch
Pink balcony
Pink woman
Pink ghost on a pink road!
Pink door
Pink hello
Pink dream
Pink sparrow
Pink night

poem by Framarz Bagheri
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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January in New York

Black ship of night
sailing through the world
& the moon an orange slice
tangy to the teeth
of lovers who lie
under it,
sucking it.

Somewhere there are palm trees;
somewhere the sea
bluely gathers itself up
& lets itself fall again
into green;
somewhere the spangles
of light on the ocean
dazzle the eyes;
but here in the midnight city,
the black ship of night
has docked
for a long, dark stay,
& even the citrus moon
with its pockets of juice
cannot sweeten the dark.

Then the snow begins,
whirling over the Pole,
gathering force over Canada,
sprinkling the Great Lakes with sugar
which drowns in their deep black cups;
it is drawn to the spires of New York
& the flurries come
scampering at first,
lighthearted, crystalline, white,
but finally
sucked into the city
as into a black hole
in space.

The sky is suddenly pink-
pink as flesh: breasts,
babies' bottoms. Night is
day; day is whiter than the desert;
the city stops like a heart;
pigeons dip & veer
& come to rest
under the snow-hatted
watertanks.

poem by Erica Jong
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Renate

Renate, came to work
one day
all dressed in Pink
she walked around the floor
and gave everybody a wink

the whole team started,
started to think
they wondered if we should
Invite Renate for a drink

But Renate is so Cool
and she doesn't play the fool
Just because I dress in Pink
does not mean I want a drink

ah but drink she does
and wears pink as well
and that's because
she feels so swell

poem by David Darbyshire
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Lydia Pinkham

CHORUS
We'll drink a drink adrink
To Lily the Pink the Pink the Pink,
The savior of
The human ra-a-ace!
She invented
Medicinal Compound
Most efficacious
In every case.

Now here's a story
A little bit gory,
A little bit happy,
A little bit sa-a-ad,
Of Lily the Pink and
Her Medicinal Compound
And how it drove
Her to the bad.

Oh, Ebeneezer thought

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Raven, Raven

I took my children to the Zoo.
That was in March of 1993
And there was a sharp wind.
We saw a black
Raven who had stories.
'Are you thirsty, Raven? '
They asked him.
He said: 'Raven, Raven.'
'Are you hungry, Raven? '
He said: 'Raven, Raven'
'Do you have a family, Raven? '
I asked.
He said: 'Raven, Raven.'
We came back smiling
My children and I.
The children left.
We remained: sharp wind and me.
We went to my apartment:
My memories and I.
Unbearable loneliness.
I went to a pub.
The waiter asked:
'Are you thirsty or hungry?
You are not with your kids tonight? '
I replied: 'RAVEN, RAVEN.'

poem by Jankovic Zoran
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Pink is my colour

Pink pants and rosy plants
Pink blouses, never failing to arouse spouses

Pink hot feverish lips
Passionate pants of pink
Love letters dipped in pink ink

You see! You see!

Pink is my colour
Pink is the sweet side of wild
Quite mild
Like a little lost baby child
Of all the colours compiled
Pink is romantic and disarming
All pink roses are ever so charming

Pink is my colour
The fruit juices I drink
Are always colour pink
With favourable odours
Igniting my fire making me desire more and more
Think! Think! Pink always links
With erotic pleasant stinks
Those flirty winks
Combining with pink
Creating an effect of kink, kink, kinky!

Pink is my colour
Refined or raw
Pink is my colour
And the colour of my door
Pink is my colour
And the only colour I adore

Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi

poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Pink

Feather light wings that float softly through the air tickled by specks of dust.
Bright white light inflamed with pink and laced with gold.
Raising flowers, changing seasons,
singing in high pitched voices that only children can hear.
Little tiny people in little tiny clothes.
Pink, White and Baby Blue,
Only innocent eyes can see.

Pink nail varnish, Pink lipstick, Pink eye shadow, Pink blusher, Pink clothes that reveal too much Pink skin.
Standing on street corners innocent eyes forgotten.
Long ago were the days when fairies were believed in.
Lost memories and lost dreams,
innocence killed, for a life of nightmares and love ripped at the seams.

poem by Laura Cummings
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