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Nigdaw May 2022
she has produced a biscuit
that claims a Mona Lisa likeness
confectionary imbued with worth
far beyond a humble foodstuff
to be digested by a sweet tooth
novelty birthday gift consumed
likeness acknowledged in a minute
taste appreciated in seconds
party over

Leonardo lived with her as a mistress
never parting with his commission
of a merchant’s daughter
perfecting every stroke and nuance
haunted by that beguiling smile
she had him in her clutches forever
now the world lives for the minute
appreciates in seconds and moves on
there are no more banquets
just mere morsels
Odd Odyssey Poet Nov 2021
Life is a Biscuit'
Where the privilege are born,
With cream in between:
While the rest have to work'
For their life's filling.
Bardo Aug 2021
When I think back now to when I was little (to when I was young)
The words "I love you" I don't think were ever spoken, not in our house anyway (now I could be wrong)
It would have been something silly to say
That was something you'd only hear in a Hollywood movie
Between glamorous movie stars, glamorous people
It wasn't part of our reality
If you were feeling anxious about something and needed comforting
You'd be told not to worry, that you were being silly
You'd be given a hug maybe or 'a treat' something nice
Usually something sweet, a biscuit and a hot cup of sugary tea or cocoa
A chocolate sweet if there were any
You'd be allowed to stay up late and watch the late shows on TV
Me! I was always a terrible worrier just like my Mom
Food most often was the comforter, the soother, the remedy to all
(Some say our relationship with food is the closest relationship we ever have in Life).

Yea! I don't think the words "I love you" were spoken where we grew up
Our parents they loved us as best they could
But they didn't have the words, the words to say it
It was strange...it was almost like they were forbidden to.
Of course, you could love your neighbor alright and your neighbor's neighbor
And your neighbor's neighbors neighbor's neighbor
And all the feckin' neighbors in the whole feckin' world
But the one thing you couldn't, you mustn't do
Was love yourself, this was the Big No No, the Big taboo, the Great Evil
It was the one thing you must never do,
And every Sunday at church, the priest way up on his pulpit
He'd never tire of telling us
How evil and selfish and bad the Self was
And all the bad things it got up to
Yea, your neighbor was always better than you were
Put your neighbor above yourself always
Love your neighbor and you'd be alright
That was the message loud and clear.

                               2

So, so we got treats instead of words of love when we were little
On Friday nights when Dad would come home from work and the pub
He'd always have with him lovely Apple Turnover buns
And a bag of crisps for each of us
And so, we'd all sit there together in the evening in front of the telly
After the maelstrom of the school week with  its lessons and scary teacher
Trying so hard to understand and get your homework done,
And despite all we'd laugh and enjoy the TV shows
And this... this was Love, us all just sitting there with our buns and munching our crisps just watching the TV together
Knowing we belonged and that we were loved kind of...as best they could
And that we had a couple of days off, days of freedom
Before we'd have to go back to school again,
It didn't get any better than this.

And when we'd be going down the country to see our Uncle John
My Dad would always stop off to visit a pub
And he'd get us a Club orange and a packet of crisps
It couldn't get any better than this... this was Love
The lovely sweet taste of that fizzy Club orange juice
And those wonderful salty cheese and onion flavoured (potato) crisps or maybe salt and vinegar flavour
Or later on, lovely smokey bacon flavour,
As we'd sit there Dad would be talking to the barman or some of the locals
But we didn't care what was being said, it didn't matter to us
It didn't get any better than this
This was heaven... this was Bliss.

Sometimes during the summer months before we could get summer jobs
Maybe it'd be raining outside and we'd be stuck indoors and bored
But then Mum would up and say "I know I'll make some chips"
Now Mum's chips were really something special, they'd be lovely big chunky potato chips, hand cut
And maybe she'd have beans in tomato sauce with them,
And maybe there'd be a good film on in the afternoon
Well, this was it, nothing could top that, a good film and a plate of Mum's big chunky chips and beans
Sometimes she'd even make these lovely mince beef pies
With minced beef and flour and onions, salt and pepper on them
And they were really something else
It couldn't get any better than this... and this... this was Love
(I can still remember the kind of meals we ate
And my Mum in the kitchen, and my Dad).

                            3

It's how people grow up in the end I suppose
They find someone inspiring, some teacher or book that makes a strong impression on them (if their lucky)
Or a partner who broadens their horizons, makes them question things and expands their vision of life and all its wondrous possibilities
But what if you don't find those good books, those inspiring teachers
Those voices that'd offer you a better vision of tomorrow and what this life could be
What if you only found bad books, bad books purporting to be good
That'd rob you and leave you lost and desolate, fearful and confused
What if some of your teachers turned out to be alcoholics
That some even done away with themselves
What if the people you met were even more lost than you were yourself...

And you'd go to a job interview and the man, he'd look at you and say
"So, what are your aspirations in Life, what are your values, your goals, where do you see yourself a few years from now ?"
And you'd look back at him blankly, Aspirations! Values! Goals!
What are these words, what's he talking about...
What am I looking for in Life ?
To have some fun I suppose...maybe (if having fun was still legal now as an adult)
Fun!!! Whatever that was now ?
Or to get drunk and stay drunk, escape this grim world I'm in somehow
What am I looking for ?
You tell me...I don't know, what is there
For all I knew I may as well have said
"A Club orange and a packet of crisps".

                              4

Now the faces they have all faded away, the voices too, have all gone
There's only me here alone in this room
It's Friday evening and I've got a readymade dinner from the supermarket
Just need to pop it in the oven for a few minutes
And I got a Dvd from the Dvd store,
So I sit there and eat my dinner, I savour every bite
But still it doesn't last very long
And I can lick my plate but it doesn't make any difference
I can lick it all I like
But I can't make it last, and I can't bring them back again
Those people that are gone;
And the food, it doesn't taste the same, doesn't taste as good as it tasted back then
And the movies too, their not like the ones we used to watch...

When I die it'll probably be like that movie Citizen Kane, at the end his last words "Rosebud"
The name of his beloved childhood sleigh
He used slide on in the snow,
I'll say on my death bed "I too have a memory of Love and Joy, Yea!
A Club orange and a packet of crisps".
A strange write this, life through a foodie's eyes. Another rather melancholy write (or wonderful delicious melancholy write LoL). I love the sad ones, they crack me up every time, take me to deep places within, they take you on a journey. Club orange is a lovely brand of fizzy orange juice over here (like Fanta) and a bag of crisps are potato chips fried wafer thin that'd come in different flavors. Very sugary and very salty and bad for you LoL.
Ujjal Mandal Jan 2021
Ujjal Mandal, India

If I lose myself in the dreamland
Where dreams are made of sand,
The real world will seem just a dream
Like a biscuit without cream.
Espresso manic Dec 2019
"Bad dog! Sit "
They told me to stay down
on my old ****.
To be mediocre
and take commands.
Offered me a treat
if I obeyed
and conformed.
No! I will not conform
with such a small feat.
I'll fetch me self a real bone,
and then remold
my craft until I master
my skills.
Do not come at with that tone,
you could have not survived
the hood of stone-cold
predators I put down.
Proved them all wrong
and went home with a gold
collar that said:
"CEO of my own life."
hungry for success
Dakota J Dawson Mar 2018
I want to drink
Until the end
Of forgotten time

Let there be
A funeral fire
Withhold the time capsule

Rustic sounds
Should accompany
Alternating live music

Wood is warping
Bathroom darkening
It all stinks

Reeking of vanilla musk
Some savage old lady
Must have been here

I continue to drink
Without expiration
Giving into temptation

Wine contains a nutty
Whimsical flavor
Reminiscent of cashews

Salted just right
Stored on time
Purity in taste

Test has been passed
No more whims
Just explanations

For why I drink
Trying to write
Avoiding sobriety

Wanting ***
Confusion of the soul
Fusion for sanity

Sunday spreads
Wicked wings
Evil erosions

Condemning my being
Into ice
Deafening to my eyes

Plastering the pole
But in suspense
Avoiding the crowd

Can I possibly contend,
with a biscuit?
Perhaps not
MARK RIORDAN Apr 2017
HER MAJESTY LOVES HER CHOCOLATE BISCUIT CAKE
SHE TAKES IT EVERY WHERE
PEOPLE LOVE TIM TAMS AND CHOCOLATE
WITH SWEETS YOU REALLY CARE


IT DOESN'T HURT TO HAVE A NIBBLE
ON THE SWEETS YOU LOVE THE MOST
HER MAJESTY LOVES HER CHOCOLATE BISCUIT CAKE
LET'S ALL JUST RAISE A TOAST
HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN LOVES HER SWEETS HER CHOCOLATE BISCUIT CAKE GOES EVERY WHERE WITH HER. WITH A BIT OF CREAM YUM YUM
Snehith Kumbla Aug 2016
waiting for an old friend,
conversation Irani tea?

waiting for a downpour,
umbrella a support stick?

waiting for a son,
whose canvas shoes he adorns?

waiting for a wife,
her obese form from the doctor's?

waiting for a street dog,
to make biscuit crumble fists?

waiting for nobody,
but tedium, a familiar habit?  

can only blunder in theories,
as I stand beside him,
waiting for somebody...
Peter J Thomas Mar 2016
I sat proudly with a biscuit,

To dunk into my tea,

But I seemed to lose my touch,

It fell in, disgustingly.
Mic Mar 2016
Admiring a cookie
half dipped in hot milk
---plop
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