#tickle poem

[dakotas-stuff]

Thought I would make a tickle monster for Christmas ahdnjsndndns

The Night of Merrymirth:

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house...

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

The stockings hung by the chimney with care...

In hopes that St. Nicholas would soon be there.

Curious I was, so I leapt out of bed...

To see if I could spot the man in red.

But to my surprise, not a person in sight!

So I turned around to sleep through the night.

But as I crawled up the steps, with a sudden, faint sound!

A big fuzzy creature would soon be found!

It crawled from the chimney, and so I hid...

and I watched it's strange movements, to see what it did...

Its fur was snow white, and with a smile on its face...

It scurried through the house with ignorant grace.

It resembled a goat, with a skeletal look...

But it was not a Krampus, no, neither a crook!

Although they weren't sharp, it had rounded claws...

That scratched against the floor, as it scurried on its paws...

As I went to back away, it quickly turned around!

And I thought, at that moment, that trouble was inbound...

But as it sat and crossed its legs, its four arms opened wide...

I could tell that this creature was very friendly inside!

I approached the new friend, and asked for its name.

And then it responds "First, may we play a game?"

I thought, then nodded, not seeing the harm...

Then it said "Please, will you rest in my arms?"

I then got comfy, nodding as I agree...

And then the creature grinned, still bursting with glee.

I looked up at the creature, and it spoke once again.

"Might you be ticklish, my dear new friend?"

With great reluctance, I nodded my head...

But I think it may have noticed that my face had turned red!

It wiggled its claws, giggling with glee.

"Then friend, would you like to share a laugh with me?"

With my hands on my face, I nodded once more.

"Then, my friend, time for tickles galore!"

And that's when I realized that I was in a pickle...

The next thing I knew, I was getting tickled!

As it skittered its fingers across my tummy...

It felt like the world was made of gummy!

As I giggled, and squealed, and my legs flailed!

In the corner of my eye, I spotted its tail!

Covered in feathers, it lifted it close...

And a finger went in to boop me on the nose!

But as I was distracted, a smile curves on my lips,

As I suddenly feel something tickling my ribs!

I could feel its tail feathers sliding up and down...

And with a friend like this, it felt impossible to frown!

We had lots of fun, and bright, our smiles glowed...

But alas, too soon, it was time for it to go…

I had begun to frown, when in the now silent room…

When suddenly I heard "We'll meet again soon!"

And it disappeared before I could ask for its name…

But it seemed to leave a paper, as a reminder of our game!

The paper read "Alas, I bring Christmas cheer…

But it seems that my form... tends to bring people fear…"

"But you understood that I meant no harm…

And welcomed me, with open arms"

"I had felt loved for the first time in a while…

So thank you for allowing me to share that smile…"

"And now, as I return to part of the earth…

I wish you a Merry Christmas! Signed, Merrymirth."

As I read the note with a sense of cheer…

I realized the morning would eventually be near!

So as I enter my bed, and I turn off the lights…

I wish a Merry Christmas to all, and to all, a good night!

[clayticklish-ai]

Write a poem about a group of friends who go to a Super Bowl Tickle Party

(For those who don’t know, I’m going to the AUNT Super Bowl Tickle Party in February! More details here)

A group of friends with faces lit

Gathered for a Super Bowl Tickle Party

Ready for the game and snacks to eat

But most excited for the tickling feat

They settled down and cheered their team

As the players ran and fought for the win

But in between plays they turned to each other

To tickle and laugh and have some fun

Some tickled gently, some tickled rough

But they all laughed and had enough

To keep them going till the final whistle blew

And their team emerged victorious, it was no time for being blue

So here's to friends and tickling fun

And the joy that it brings

May we all find ways to laugh and play

And make our own Super Bowl tickle party, oh what fun it brings!

[tailorsfaceandhands]

🤨

Reading Art’s poetry can be strangest experience ever I stg

[giggly-squiggily]

Iiiiiit's me again! The two-parter anon! If you're up for it, may I request some lee!Kunikida ler!reader action for hc to drabbles?

My headcanon truthfully is more about the reader but I think this would be the funniest scenario Kunikida could find himself in. The reader has a teleportation ability and is as mischievous as Dazai, so obviously they love to mess with Kunikida. So, basically, reader comes and tickles kunikida but teleports away before he can do anything to stop her and she keeps doing that throughout the day. Idk, I just find the thought funny😂. Feel free to decline this as it isn't exactly a Kunikida headcanon.

Headcanons To Dabbles: Officially CLOSED!

Oh my god this is hilarious! 🤣 And you're fine, anon! As long as the headcanon is detailed enough, I can work with it for the reader character! :) Little note: All reader characters are gender neutral for inclusivity. Besides that, I've gotcha covered!

The Empiricists Have No Clothes.

That was the name of your ability; allowing you to teleport whenever and wherever you desired. So long as you could picture the place in your head, you could appear there like a dream. It proved rather useful for the armed detective agency.

Alongside other things.

“GAH!” Kunikida all but yelped when he felt fingers pinch his sides, whirling around to find the space behind him empty. A few paces away, Dazai was struggling not to laugh. “Find something funny, Dazai?” He growled.

“MMmph! No! No, not at all.” He waved him off, carrying on with folding his paperwork into various origami shapes. The poet tried not to scream at the lack of work the other man was doing. “Could you please do your job-HEH!”

There it was again, fingers prodding his ribs, flicking against his spine. Kunikida turned around again, but there was nothing there. “What on earth…” He spoke, starting to wonder if he was being haunted.

Then he heard it, your soft giggles somewhere in the office. “(Y/N)...” He began, turning to the sound-

“GAH! Ahehahahhahahaha! Whahahahit, whahahahhait hold ohohohohon!” He broke into a fit of proper laughter as you pressed into his ribs, staying around this time. “(Y/N)!”

“Mehehehehe! That’s right- laugh for me!” You grinned, delighted at the usually stoic man’s smiling face. “You haven’t done so today- I want to hear you snort!”

“Go for the armpits! And his back!” Dazai cheered from his desk, clapping like a delighted child at the circus. His origami creations were left abandoned, unnoticed as Atsushi slowly swapped them out with blank paper. “Get ‘em good, (Y/N)!”

“Dahahahahahzai shuuhuhuuhut up and hahehehheheheehlp mehehehehehehe!” Kunikida demanded, the tone in his voice lacking any real command. He twisted around, grabbing your wrists. “Thehere!”

You blinked, looking down at his wrists and then back at his glaring face. Then you smiled, leaning in and kissing him on the nose.

“Bye bye!” You sang before popping out of existence, leaving him blushing and stuttering.

“Aww~ Kuni’s got a big ol’ crush!” Dazai teased, turning back to his creations. “Huh? Hey- where’d my tiger go?

He never found out before kunikida tackled him to the floor, filling the office with laughter once more.

[vthetease]

I don't hate myself

I don't hate myself but I do hate the part of my brain that still lets me get excited every time I lock eyes with some new beautiful person, and for a split second, I let myself believe that they are willing to jump, crash into love with me at the exact same moment I am with them.

I'm so sick of constantly being the one forcing someone else to fall in love with me, like it's a burden, like it's a chore and not a privilege.

Like I wouldn't shoot the Sun out of the sky for them should they say it's too bright, and I don't understand why that kind of love seems wrong to a world where just wanting to be called someone's girlfriend is asking for their hand in marriage.

I just want someone to say yes I do like you and yes I do want to see where this goes and no we don't have to worry about it right now because what we have is good and this is enough.

And no matter how many times I tell myself slow down it's not deep

no matter how many times I get hurt by giving away too much of myself to someone who just wanted affection

I still do it again and again because that's just how I love and believe me it's exhausting, and I wouldn't change who I am for anyone

I just wish it could finally be enough.

[thatwritererinoriordan]

[i-write-when-i-feel-things]

I give fifteen year old me a hug

her head reaches to just above my shoulder

her starched gi scratches my skin

she has no idea this is the last time she'll wear it

I give fourteen year old me a hug

she begs me to make them pay

I run a hand over her knotted hair

and tell her a story about the sunrise

I give twelve year old me a hug

her tears soak my shirt

I do not have the heart to tell her

that this ache will never leave

I give nine year old me a hug

she gives me a toothy grin

and asks if we grew up to be just like sissy

I tell her we grew up to be a princess

I give five year old me a hug

she has too many crayons for her little hands

I will cherish the marks they leave on my pants

I forgot what it was like to see life in full color

I give my mother a hug

She has not yet met me

I am still just in the swell of her belly

And I tell her she is beautiful

[th3-art-of-dying]

Wearing a cross on a necklace is the equivalent to wearing an electric chair on a necklace.

[weatheredpoetry]

To The Trolls I Don't Pay Your Toll

Ratty tatty tap tap tap, haters be dancing like fly’s on crap. You’re better than the haters and I think they are jealous they are not spoiled brats. Instead the best they can do is be ugly trolls expecting you to pay their toll. Well the bridge is burnt and the trolls are stone. Trolls turn to stone in the morning light and ashes can’t hold up to the mornings breeze. Like the big bad wolf I huff…

[cuban-being]

Lunar

No recuerdo caras

solo luces

la memoria de un desespero

dentro de tu color dulce

tus palabras se me hacen cenizas

me caen con calor

me manchan con valor

me pintan la sonrisa

pero no me quitan la tristeza

mujer de mil palabras

soy un animal extranjero

de una tierra sin hogar

donde los pies tienen que rogar

para que el camino se le abra

ase tiempo que sembré

esa semilla llamada amor

esa inigualable flor

hoy espero y ayer esperé

con lagrimas eternas la mojaré

si un día decide crecer

si un día decide querer

espero que no halla muerto

1997

[poetry-for-pups]

you are alive.

you are alive. as you look around you are alive. seeing, breathing. watching yourself grow. watching yourself shrink. you are alive. alive is to hold your bare heart in your hands and repeat. i am me. i can create and experience. i am god. i am alive. i am human.

written 30 seconds ago typed into chrome browser on my bed.

[just-0dd]

Last night, in my dream

I saw the northern lights in my bedroom

And they tickled my feet

I wonder if that's the skies way

Of making me laugh

[vthetease]

How has your day gone?

Today I wore another black dress

To enter the same room with the same people

and the same judgemental glance I get from those sat waiting

The same eyes that pleaded and cried at my sight as I numbly sat in the back

When I couldn't bring myself to walk to your casket

It felt a million miles away on the other side of the gym

My heart aches in my chest as my eyes register the same stupid basketball hoop hanging from the ceiling

Now hung with white flowers

For your sisters wedding

The same gym I stand in now

Where I had to watch your family cry

Is now where they dance and laugh

It's so bittersweet; it's so silver lined

the guilt I feel for wanting to scream

I shove down with lemonade and smile

because I can't imagine how the siblings and parents must feel

and I know I can not fill the space you left

In this same church

and in the same way I was then

I will always be

Luke's friend

[thatwritererinoriordan]

[thatone-churro]

honestly i think “i am not a perfect man / and you say neither was god” is hands down one of my favorite lines i’ve ever written

[kachowden]

Thinking about a deeply romantic man. Possibly a bit old fashioned in the ways of love. The type to sweep you off your feet to dance in the rain, the type to buy you flowers, just because. Maybe even to thank you simply for being beside him. The type who stares out into starry skies and thinks of your smile, cushioning it amongst the glowing lights. The type who watches couples pass him by and yearns to be by your side once more, even if it had only been mere hours.

The type who writes poems and songs about the way your hands fit against his. Who sings your bodies praises, every inch of it enchanting him more than the last, seeping into his fingers that strum the chords of an unknown melody. Who kisses whatever causes you insecurity, because his heart aches to think you don’t see yourself in the radiant light that he does. That you aren’t breathless with every glance at a mirror- like he is everytime your eyes meet.

Oh and is he ever so breathless. The way you sigh. The way you glance around at the world. Even the way you may duck your head after finding something you did to be silly or embarrassing, he adores it all. There is not a moment that goes by where he, all of him, is not encompassed by your every moment.

Perhaps there had been a time where love had felt nonsensical. Illusionary, to him. Perhaps there had been a time where he scoffed at the notion of such a thing, and sneered at the couples that passed him by, trapped in their own little bubbles of affection. Perhaps he even scorned them. Cursed them for partaking in something he had never experienced. Something he did not know to be true. Something he did not believe in.

And yet you, my darling, had taken all of that bitterness and loathing, and crushed it deep down into the recesses of his very being. Your hands so delicately cupped his beating heart, and let it pulse mindlessly in your warmth. You carved yourself deep into his lungs and stomach, pouring butterflies that fluttered and tickled his veins, making him feel as if he was a child again, frolicking through the saturated hues of the world. No longer colorless. No longer dull. His world breathed with the very essence of you and he could not find it in himself to ever let go.

He belonged to you. Forever. Constantly. Without a moments hesitation, without a skip in time and without ever missing a beat. He was yours. And you were his. You would be his till time had wrinkled the corner of your eyes, had sapped the warmth from your skin, and had laid to rest the beat of your heart. He fantasized about the moments your bodies were laid together, snug into a box and hoisted down below. About when your flesh would deteriorate and your bones would creak against one another.

And one day when your souls had sprung from their warm cages; he dreamed of the way you two would become the air you had once breathed, the rain you had once danced in, and the stars he had gazed into, and recalled the curve of your lips with a feverishly, beating heart.