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jon-tobiasPoems
These are the angels of bread They fill my guts like cotton just thick enough To hide the rumble of my hunger They find their ways into the empty spots that you made when you Stopped talking to me They soften the longing Their crusts just crunchy enough to substantiate The desire for the texture that’s somehow gone missing They get stuck in my throat so that it sounds like smoke When I speak Soft enough to remind me not to place so much anger in my words Speak softly So the world listens carefully So when it finally speaks back It is soft too Like the angels of bread They rise slowly from pools of fungus and warm water They give life from things as simple as flour and heat And patience It takes patience to bake bread It takes that same kind of patience to want to be around me Catch me at the wrong temperature and I don’t mold so easily So go ahead and give up on me These are the angels of bread Who tease our hunger With the smell of something good And always manage to come through When I was little I slathered them in peanut butter and jelly They satiate my soul Like the idea of Georgia It’s a place I’ve never been But it always sounds like home These are the angels of bread Kind enough to silence the earth so All I hear is the click of my jaw when they hold me Working out the memories you left behind Couldn’t pack up everything when you left You had to leave me those And this recipe leaving my home smellin’ like a bakery Only now it smells like Georgia A place I’ve never been A place that reminds me of you Home
0
Aug 6, 2011
Aug 6, 2011 at 11:23 PM UTC
The Angels Of Bread
These are the angels of bread They fill my guts like cotton just thick enough To hide the rumble of my hunger They find their ways into the empty spots that you made when you Stopped talking to me They soften the longing Their crusts just crunchy enough to substantiate The desire for the texture that’s somehow gone missing They get stuck in my throat so that it sounds like smoke When I speak Soft enough to remind me not to place so much anger in my words Speak softly So the world listens carefully So when it finally speaks back It is soft too Like the angels of bread They rise slowly from pools of fungus and warm water They give life from things as simple as flour and heat And patience It takes patience to bake bread It takes that same kind of patience to want to be around me Catch me at the wrong temperature and I don’t mold so easily So go ahead and give up on me These are the angels of bread Who tease our hunger With the smell of something good And always manage to come through When I was little I slathered them in peanut butter and jelly They satiate my soul Like the idea of Georgia It’s a place I’ve never been But it always sounds like home These are the angels of bread Kind enough to silence the earth so All I hear is the click of my jaw when they hold me Working out the memories you left behind Couldn’t pack up everything when you left You had to leave me those And this recipe leaving my home smellin’ like a bakery Only now it smells like Georgia A place I’ve never been A place that reminds me of you Home
jon-tobias
Written by
jon-tobias
American
Aug 6, 2011
Aug 6, 2011 at 11:23 PM UTC
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