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I wake to the day,
a whimsical decree,
I declare, with joyful heart,
ice cream for breakfast,
for me!
Colourful scoops
creamy flavoured delight,
sweet indulgence after
a long restless night .

For life, my friend,
is all about ice cream at dawn,
where sorrow is scooped
and a spoon full is drawn.
don’t be too serious,
or unfashionable too wise,  
nor too cool to be whimsy
like a good bowl of ice

a tablet of ice cream,
if one daily took ,
life’s simple joys
often overlooked
through monotony
we fail to embrace,
the simple things that bring
a smile to a face.

So nourish the child
that lives within
feed the wild
that screams for icecream
unleash the rebel
do as the brave
relish the moments
give in to the crave  

the varied flavours
life is diverse,
some days are crazy
and some unrehearsed
the cold, bold and beautiful
encounter the rare
challenge the trusted
a moment to dare

some days we stumble,
some days a fight,
sweet smooth ice cream
makes everything right
eggs with ice-cream  
baked beans on the side
what mix of confusion
It will still the mind  

So, ice cream for breakfast
a double cone my dear?
embrace the unconventional
without any fear.
life's too short
to  follow routine,
maybe, a lack of  sweetness
is all that it’s been

A sunlight delight,
every morning you’ll find
you can face the day
leave worries behind.
A cry for ice cream,
may just be the key,
live life, every moment,
ice-cream for breakfast for me
Zywa Nov 24
When I can't handle

it anymore, I am saved --

by hours of boredom.
Novel "Munya" (name: "Wish/Desire/ What is longed for permanently even though it is very difficult to get", 2008, Abdelkader Benali), chapter Morocco

Collection "VacantVoid"
Anais Vionet Sep 13
There’s a feeling called
the drifting force
that makes you want
to shift your course
and find a better vector
on boring study nights.

They’re so many things
a girl starts missing,
like hugging, dancing
and oh, yes kissing,
when she lets a dry syllabus
control her life.

After several hours
of intensive reading,
your intuition is that
what you’re needing,
is something we’ll
politely call ‘delights’.

But you make the almost
painful choice
and factor out your inner voice
and you pick up yet another book
and not a boy,
because, you see - it’s really
a necessity, not a choice.
Anais Vionet Aug 19
I do foolish things
when I’m blue
when I’m sad
and missing you
I do foolish things

like dancing all night
foolish things
drinking everything in sight
foolish things
shopping til I drop
foolish things
somehow I cannot stop

doing foolish things
when I’m blue
when I’m sad
and missing you
I do foolish things

watching ‘parks & rec’ all night
foolish things
drinking coffee until daylight
foolish things
dragging friends on crazy romps
foolish things
somehow I cannot stop

doing foolish things
when I’m blue
when I’m sad
and missing you
I do foolish things

acting like spring breakers
foolish things
*****-dirping strangers
foolish things
acting like some whack-job
foolish things
but somehow I cannot stop

doing foolish things
when I’m blue
when I’m sad
and missing you
I do foolish things

making badong decisions
foolish things
I’m in an awkweird position
foolish things
I’ve begun precrastinating
foolish things
a change is indicated

so come back soon
cause when you do
there are foolish things
I want to do with you
foolish things
foolish things
crazy foolish things
foolish things
*****-dirping = saying silly or outrageous things to strangers for effect.
badong = bad / wrong
awkweird = combination of "awkward" and "weird".
precrastinating = procrastinating before procrastinating.
Ayesha Jul 26
The unbearable viscosity
Of the boredom of waiting
Gags and gapes, it growling
Has me swallowed
Into its grotesque throat

The fans purr, feathery,
Unpleasent. The lights buzz
In my brain, it scratches
A restless cat, churns
A gyring stomach

I turn an old song
Over and over on my tongue
Till the sombre juice
Is lost to my black insides
And the flavourless gum
Becomes a pebble

Sold, a piece in the pieces
Of the past - how many hours
Lost, faceless leaves, to dirt?
The endless rosary
Of mournful beads: stale,
Untouched by prayers, a
Mockery to God
My Dear Poet Jun 23
For every drip that drops
theres a kiss on your lip
we can’t stop
the tick proceeds the tock,
on every clock

Little bits of bitterness
makes a mess of emptiness
The pleases of teases
satisfy our happiness
And all that it will leave us
is pure **** of nothingness

Other than that soft
sweet scent of sweetness
Where only you can meet this
going back to our first kiss
that I myself so miss
Carlo C Gomez Mar 16
She egresses from a pool of blue and straight into the colorless, Californian dregs of summer.

Each passing plane reminding her how stuck she is.

The question remains whether some people are doomed to just survive, a yearning for freedom following them around, until they learn to numb themselves to such aspirations.

Faraway trains pass by.

The sound in their whistles knowing the events she will litigate with herself for years to come until it empties the contents of her soul.
Zywa Feb 3
In times when you're bored,

you just don't know what to do --

with your vague desires.
In reference to the story "Edith Wengler" (2020, Jens Christian Grøndahl)

Collection "Slow circles"
we heard them
talking about
a meteor shower
later that night
highly anticipated
set to accompany
the rust red
that we caught
following us

lay down
upon blankets
a meagre effort
to provide
at least
a little comfort
while we witnessed
astral magnificence
the significance
of which
none of us
was certain
childishly imagining
a spectacle
from the dazzling
of shooting stars
trailing tails
like fireworks
in wonder
appearing briefly
burning out

we found ourselves
staring up
at one of those
of white
drifting across
the stratosphere
it could be
a meteor
maybe just
an aeroplane
or simply
a twinkling
trick of
the light
yet still
we watched
without excitement
without direction
without relevance
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