e button too tight, so I didn’t eat the biscuits.
Mai H
Jan 15, 2012

You used to tease me about my fat-pants.
One button too tight, so I didn’t eat the biscuits.

I don’t eat the biscuits anymore.

Because they remind me of the taste in my mouth,
When I heard about you
And the crash

And the fact that you’re gone.

Jack Bradfield
Jack Bradfield
May 24, 2013

Red and blue and green and ye-llow
Sweet and crea-my light marshme-llow
Fil-ling two for one-three for two,
In-stant pleas-ure will ensue.

Several biscuits later
Mandy Berry
Mandy Berry
Jan 1, 2013

Several biscuits later
Now I'm half way through the tin
I find it hard to stop myself
Once I've started digging in
Chocolate smothered cookies
And some with pink frosted ice
I do so enjoy a nibble
Perhaps my one and only vice?
I must now put the lid on
Before I eat the blooming lot
Or I'll be cursing for not fitting in
The new clothes that I've just got

o stand in awe and watch Grandma making biscuits.
Michael S Davis
Michael S Davis
Feb 18, 2013

I used to stand in awe and watch Grandma making biscuits.
She’d take her wooden bowl, then dip the floor and sift it.
As snowy flour would drift to form a mound of just so much;
She’d form a crater lake of buttermilk and shortening with her loving touch.

She would smile and watch our faces as she squeezed the flour to goop
And transform the mess she made into dough that she would scoop.
A pinch she’d take and make a ball to flatten in her palm.
Then with her thumb she’d press it down, so gently and so calm.

With care she next would take the dough and place it on a pan;
A thumb print etched in dough as she continued with her plan,
To place the pats side by side until the pan was filled
By perfect rows all laid out with hands so quick and skilled.

That cozy pan she placed into an oven warmed just right
And closed the door to seal them in and cook them out of sight.
In timely care she’d pull them free, delicious golden browns
Setting fresh hot biscuits on the table, to banish morning frowns.

Now I stand in awe and think of all the biscuits she has made,
Of all the time her thumb has pressed, as her heart has prayed.
Life finds us now, her children, in life’s wooden bowls
And we feel her loving touch as she leaves her thumbprint on our souls.

For Grandma Mary Grace Kindley Davis
On the occasion of her 105th birthday, February 9, 2007
Presented to her at her Birthday Party the next day.
©2007 Michael S. Davis

My Grandmother had 13 children, 50 grandchildren, and more than 80 great grands at the time of her passing at 105, just a few months after her birthday. As a farming family, she made pans of biscuits for her family two and three times a day and continued to so so into her 90's. She made a LOT of biscuits. She also lived up to her middle name, Grace. Even after reaching 100 years of age, those of us visiting over night would find ourselves struggling in our middle age to get down on our knees in the sitting room before bedtime for our night time prayers.  I started writing this poem when she turned 100. It took me a while to reach a point where I felt i had something to give her. i think she liked it. Her response if she heard something negative about someone or heard something she really liked was the same words. A quiet "Oh my." The negative was a short prayerful one. The positive was a one where the "my" was drawn out to show her delight. I did get the drawn out one.

She was a remarkable woman. She attended church up until just a couple of weeks before her passing. Had played the piano and sang just a few months before. I can imagine being a member of the church she attended and getting up on Sunday morning, not wanting to go to church and then saying to yourself..."I bet Mrs. grace will be there - guess I just don't have an excuse."
We miss her dearly and still feel the imprint of her remarkable life upon our souls.

We miss her dearly and still feel the imprint of her remarkable life upon our souls.
As biscuits and gravory.
lily
lily
Sep 18

Breakfast, lunch and dinner
I will never grow thinner
Eating something so savory
As biscuits and gravory.

I woke with a craving.
#biscuits   #gravy   #nyom   #goodeats  
a rave up with rich tea and biscuits
Christos Andreas Kourtis

This is a party for the old and wise
a rave up with rich tea and biscuits
all talk of many years past lessons
I sit intently wanting to all learn

In their austere faces
I see the child within each
such wise ladies that mother me
give me freedom and never smoother me

I keep to my cup of Earl Grey
taking in everything they say
maternal goddesses
wise as Delphi's Oracle

It's a vertebral feast
to listen to history
knowledge can make a man
guided by women right

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris

the biscuits please?”
James Bradley McCallum

amidst Jeffersonian opulence
the Prez broke bread with his
GOP poker face friends
to solve government gridlock
and sequester predicament trends

citizens of the republic
hopeful for nonsense to cease
sat at the table asking

“would you pass
the biscuits please?”

Obama perused the wine list
boldly choosing a luscious Merlot
senators ordered the finest hors d'oeuvres
the guests were all aglow

numerous delectable dishes
were liberally splayed on the table
revelers sipped flowing vintages
wine a surefire icebreaker

sparkling crystal Lennox flutes
tinkled with convivial release
while America’s disenfranchised
voices ask

“would you pass
the biscuits please?”

chutney meat, curried hens and
sweet walnut rainbow trout
the table a horn a plenty
the guests gorged on fine cuisine
a blessed nations bounty

the feast consumed
the Senators sated
said it was some
of the finest ever served
but the taxpayers only
got a peak of the banquet  
a whiff of senators nerve
and asked

“would you pass
the biscuits please?”

the dessert cart was rolled in
with custards, cakes, creme brulee
cordials, cognac and VSOP tastes
rounded out the wholesome feast

when the check was presented
for payment all guests headed
for the door with haste
they told the waiter the bill of fare
was covered
by the guy asking...

“would you pass
the biscuits please?”

Music Selection:

Andre Williams:
Pass The Biscuits Please

jbm
Oakland
3/7/13

Meenu Syriac
Meenu Syriac
Apr 17      Apr 18

Watching her sit with her crossed legs
And her gaze upwards
Like the world is too petty
For her eyes to surrender.
She was magnificent, yes
But her looks feigned a lie
Her eyes could kill with intense fire
Her scent was amicable
For her preying hands
And if a being so unfortunate
Crosses her path
Or meets her eyes
She springs like a cheetah
And rips them apart,
Metaphorically, of course.

.......

My eyes wander off

.......

His frenzied looks
And unshaved face
Ruffled up clothes
Looks like he has had his worst day
Wonder what's got him so worked up
Must be a hangover
Must have had a drink too much
Last night
Yes, I can see a wife
Beaten up in an alcohol-fueled mania.
But those petunias in his hands
Beautiful
What a contrast to the man himself
A mistress?
Or an attempt to gain forgiveness
From his wife?

.......

Sipping the best local tea
Sit back
And let my mind have its spree

.......

Pick pocket
Such an adorable face
Blue-eyed, her tiny hands
Slipping in and out
Procuring knick knacks and wallets.
Life was never fair
Mother's sick and in a tarpaulin roofed
Shack off the main street.
Dad's a drunk
And she's had enough with that nonsense.
Her timed precision  and skilled fingers
Workings its way for a loaf and
The extra change for her mother
Curled up like a ball
In pain.

.....

Change for the tea
And morning paper.
Picking up a stride
Take a left from the plaza
Into a throng of living bodies,
And to be one among
The many lives
Toiling,
Living,
Breathing.

some biscuits
Terry Collett

I stood in line
to be weighed
in the bathroom
of the nursing home

Anne crutched herself
behind me
you haven't
got a chance in hell

of winning
that chocolate bar Kid
she said
I've seen more meat

on a butcher's pencil
stuck behind his ear
might win
I said

might fly
she said  
the kid in front of me
got on

the green metal scales
and the nun
moved the weight
along the top

not you Malcolm
she said
the kid got off sulkily
I got on the scales

and the nun
moved the weight
I looked at her
black and white

headdress
her pinched features
not you Benny
she said

I got off
and walked away
Anne awkwardly
got on the scales

holding herself
on her one leg
the stump
of the other

hanging there
best so far Anne
the nun said
told you Kid

you didn't
have a chance
guess not
I said

as she crutched herself
along side of me
not to worry
if I get the choco bar

I’ll give you
a quarter for being
a good friend
no other

in this fuck hole
gets a look in
we went along
to our rooms

come in Kid
she said
I hesitated
come in

I want to
ask you something
I stood swaying
uncertain

what if
one of the nuns
comes along?  
what if I don't give you

quarter of the choc bar?
she said
I followed her in
to the girls dorm

no one else
was there
just she and me
she closed the door

with her backside
right Kid
I want you
to do me

a favour
favour?
I said
sensing uncertainty

hit my gut
yes I want you
to sneak along
to the kitchen tonight

and liberate
some biscuits
liberate?
I said

biscuits?
yes you know
what biscuits are
don't you

those hard things
with cream in the middle
or chocolate
on one side

I know what biscuits are
I said
but what do you mean
liberate?

take some
from the big tin
they have
on the shelf

in larder
take?
I said
you mean steal?

steal
take
liberate
whatever word

you want
to use Kid
what if I get caught?
don't get caught

but what if I do?
Anne sighed
sat on the edge
of her bed

I thought you
were someone
I could rely on Kid
not some cowardly custard

yellow belly
I looked
at her leg stump
sticking out

the other leg
reached to the floor
if you're really good
I’ll let you touch

my stump
she said
no need
I said

I'll try tonight
sneak down
after lights out
good Kid

she said
she took my right hand
and lay it
on the stump

and held it there
it felt warm
and soft
she let my hand go

good huh?
wish the rest
was there
she said

off you go
and don't get caught
I nodded
and backed out

of the room
seeing her cover
the stump
with her dress

and smile
see you
I said
you bet

she said
I walked away
thinking
of the big steal

of biscuits
unthought through
by my 10 year old brain
as yet.

A BOY AND ONE LEGGED GIRL IN A NURSING HOME IN THE 1950S
#home   #girl   #boy   #nursing   #1950s   #biscuits  
joey jo jo jnr shabadoo
joey jo jo jnr shabadoo
Sep 20, 2013      Sep 20, 2013

chasing a fantasy
caught already
meeting and greeting aren't even necessary
she'll give you what you want on a plate
what awaits is your every pleasure
if you'll dominate her
she'll date you
she'll use you like a vibrator
until you hate every second
of every session spent placating
echoes from her past
issues that have made her
hate herself more
than you could ever appreciate
because if you could
you would throw her away
confirming everything life has taught her
up until today
when you came
but is that a reason to stay?

why is beauty so fragile?
 
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