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 Apr 2017 Gaffer
Joel M Frye
Begin with the meat.
Venison, if you seek authenticity;
if you were raised white,
ground beef will do.
The mirapoix can be purchased
if you no longer till
the back yard.
Potatoes and peas and corn
as well.  No matter
what the commercials say,
frozen tastes nothing like
fresh from the earth.
If Grandfather did not
milk the cow and churn the butter,
saute the vegetables and meat
in half a stick.
Flour was bought and traded for
for many generations;
just open the bag and add a quarter cup.
Beef stock is such a
pain in the *** to make.
Safe, sterile boxes
with tamper-proof caps
so much more convenient.
Let the soup simmer for
what seems to be a lifetime,
then open two cans
of hominy, drain them,
and add to the ***,
letting the smell
summon the memories
of whole families.
Adjust the seasoning,
sweetening the broth
with a tear or two
before serving.
Day Two NaPoWriMo.  Poem based on a recipe.
 Apr 2017 Gaffer
Kelly Rose
She is moonbeams
And dappled sunlight
Renewal and
New beginnings
Gracing the land
With fragrant blossoms
Buzzing bees
And dandelion flurries
As children play
In Spring’s garden
Blowing happy bubbles
And laughter floats
Touching the heart and soul
She is Mistress of Spring

Kelly Rose
© April 1, 2017
 Mar 2017 Gaffer
Dark n Beautiful
He is an unpopular character this old man
Who sits and draw cartoon character
in memories of the dearly departed.

He said that he felt like crying,
but he wasn’t going to cry
Because if he did,
he might not like the taste of his tears
Those loose cells in the tears
is mostly of his mother and father.

He resented  them for not aborting him
He wishes that he was never was born.
Due to the facts that all his life he was scorned

He was in and out of intuition
Always in a state of confusion
Month too months he never saw the sun
He never felt the rain upon his face,
Only long session with the nurses and the
Physiatrist who thought of him as a disgrace

He recalled taking the train for the first time at age fifteen
And that didn’t turn out as expected,
He wets his pant, so he sat in his seat and slaps his head furiously
He was spanked by the nuns, ridiculed by Sister Margaret the head hunter,
Got a huge ****** thermometer roughly up his **** by a ******* dude
Suffered daily due to his severe autism behaviors

He is an unpopular character this old man
Who sits and draw cartoon character
of all his childhood abusers:
Sometimes we just have to tell the stories of the ones , who can't
life is not easy .. for most
 Mar 2017 Gaffer
ryn
Acceptance (V)
 Mar 2017 Gaffer
ryn
It's not about going back
to the start.

It should be about
pausing,
rewinding
and going back to a point
where things made sense.

It's about understanding
why they mattered then.

And think if they still do.

If acceptance is
securing personal victory
by conceding,

then I accept.
 Mar 2017 Gaffer
Sirenes
Hope
 Mar 2017 Gaffer
Sirenes
The snow that once left soft curves
On top of everything ugly,
Had melted away
The world was full and empty at the same time.
Everything was solid yet up in the air
It felt like anything could happen.

There was nothing here aside
From a clean slate.
You know the kind, you never wanted.
A smile of contentment for things left behind
And a sting of sorrow for the things
You weren't ready to lose.

Suddenly the world was full of everything
You had always neglected about yourself.
There was air, the cold kind, that hurts your lungs
Empty of a warm promise yet full
Of a truth, kindly smiling at you.

You smile back, in realization
Life so bleak, suddenly looks
Like clouds are lifting
Warm air heading your way
Touching skin sadly neglected

The road stretching beyond reach
Leaving the truth far behind
Like yesterday's past
The snow that once left soft curves
On top of everything ugly
Now fades into a distant memory.
By Sirenes and Gaffer
 Mar 2017 Gaffer
Dhaara T
Thank You!
 Mar 2017 Gaffer
Dhaara T
I made a friend
Out of an acquaintance
Or did he make
Himself my friend?
I'm glad we crossed paths
For he helps me appreciate
The magic of everyday life
When he shows me the mirror
In which I see clearer
I am not my sins
I am not my flaws
All the scars that make me
Are a part of me, not me as a whole
I am love, as he calls me
And I now learn to see it everyday
I am gratitude, that I have friends like him
I am joy, that I can experience this
Now, and every single day!
This one goes out to a kind soul, a sweet friend, an eloquent poet.
 Mar 2017 Gaffer
Traveler
Perhaps
 Mar 2017 Gaffer
Traveler
We're Trapped
In this physical
Realm of existence
That's logically perceived

No cognitive conclusion
Nor magical delusion
Could ever break us free

So relax
Chances are
We're  just drifting
In eternal universes
On an endless sea
...
...
Traveler Tim
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