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Steve Page May 2018
A slow English Sunday must include
a brewing *** of Darjeeling tea,
hot toast with Anchor butter
and plenty of smoked Danish bacon.
Oh, yes - and Heinz tomato ketchup.
It makes you proud of your heritage.
Us Brits tend to wear blinkers when it comes to national identity.
hazem al jaber May 2018
Love's breakfast ...

ohh babe...
i feel you ...
as i'm seeing your now ...
listening to you soft breaths ...
seeing you naked ...
waiting for my kisses ...
to dive within me ...
while our lips dancing ...
hugging ...
and needs more than kisses ...
i feel you sweetheart ...
feel you love now ...
love you ...

sweet angel mine ...
the sun smiled ...
with it shinny lights ...
sent it's warm ...
as our warm feelings ...
needs us to start our day ...
while we making love now ...

did you got my desires ...
do you feel now ...
how much i need you  ...

come sweetheart ...
our lips calls us ...
it needs it's breakfast ...
need to get it's honey ...
which we both hold ...
inside our mouths ...
which it made only ...
for us ...
come let's babe ...
start our breakfast ...
into our warm bed ...
love you ...

hazem al ...
Cana May 2018
Establishing hierarchical roles
Nicaean council for food stuffs
The meal that breaks ones fast
A culinary czar
His Rasputin, not another repast
His downfall not so obvious
A cuisine coup d’état,
Caffeinated beverages.
‘Twas coffee that stormed the breakfast Bastille
Our first meal seems to be a drink.
waffles, waffles a real great treat.
I cook them for breakfast as their fun to eat.
Buttery and light, my taste buds take flight.
In fact, I just might eat them tonight!
Today I got a new waffle iron. I haven't made waffles in almost a year. My excitement burst forth in prose tonight as I was preparing some of the fluffiest, most delicious waffles ever.
Zack Apr 2018
Morning afters
Am I right?
Pounding headaches
Sun too bright

Walk of shame
Pregnancy scares
Greasy, tangled
Missing hair

Familiar stenches
Foreign limbs
Awkward glances
Weird breakfast whims

Soon comes the doubt
If it all really happened
love marks found out
What a mistake I’m now trapped in

Missed calls and messages
From those close and dear
Who’ve been desperate
To suppress their worst fears

9:15 says the clock
Put on various pieces of clothes
Visit a starbucks
Get a soy latte with sugar, dark roast

9:25 am
Check facebook
Check twitter
Get a bite by a food truck

9:35 am
“Where are you?”
It’s your mom
“I’m just getting some food”

9:40 am
“Where are you?”
It’s the one night stand
DON’T OPEN IT DUDE

9:45 am
“Where are you? Why are you late?”
It’s your boss
Wait, today’s friday.
they would
poach breakfast
so sound
in their
living room
that had
eaten this
croissant with
an ear
in place
till this
rap was
down then
after their
own plates
with this
illustrious swag
breakfast for champions
Sarah Mann Mar 2018
This morning I woke up before 6am.
Too early for most people, myself included.
My brain was running wild last night.
I laid restless in my bed for what seemed like hours.
I tossed and turned and my thoughts were overrun with nightmares and horrors.
Turmoil took over my mind and stressed my heart out. I simply couldn’t sleep.
I took deep breaths, I counted sheep, I even drank a cup of tea.

Nothing worked. So, I continued to lay there too tired to move, far too awake to fall asleep.
Such a terrible state, caught in between two extremes each one refusing to give in.
Life had exhausted me and yet I still wasn’t allowed sleep.
I felt trapped, I felt powerless, I was defeated.
Somehow amidst my worrying, I had drifted off into slumber.
And that leads us to this morning.
This morning I woke up before 6am. Groggy, vision foggy, and most of all still tired.
I mean, could you blame me? I had gotten barely more than half
of the prescribed amount of sleep for someone my age.
I packed a bag for the adventures of the day, which for me meant about 30 pounds of textbooks.
I made a list of the work that still needed to be done.
Another list for how many minutes I had before the sun.
One by one, we loaded into the car, like soldiers preparing for war.
In some ways, we were readying our armor, but ours was metaphorical rather than literal.

My dad is always the first to the car. He likes to get ahead of the current.
My sister is second, she’s grumpy and doesn’t understand what’s going on.
Then myself, I’m tired but still excited for what’s to come.
We drive through the sleepy city, everyone’s preparing for their own day.
The sun itself has just risen and we watch the world awaken.
We have arrived, and it’s about 6:30AM.
You guessed it. It’s time for breakfast.

Scientifically speaking, breakfast is the most important meal of the day.
Personally speaking, nothing chooses the course of the day more than that first meal.
A cold unforgiving bowl of cereal doesn’t bring me happiness,
Like a warm bowl of fried rice does or like scrambled eggs with just a hint of cheese does.
Perhaps I am looking too far into the way certain breakfast foods makes me feel.
Regardless, we walk in and the environment shift affects all of our moods.

We made it to the front of the line and we order.
For my dad, eggs, bacon, and link sausage, a trio.
For my sister, in a state of dazed, orders the same.
For myself, the only one with originality deliberately chooses blueberry pancakes.
The warmth and comfort found in hot chocolate is exactly what I need right now.
So I order that too.
Sleepy and unaware, we trudge back to a table as a unit.
Our table is split between booth and chair and it’s located next to the window.
There is something poetic about the scene.
Maybe it’s the early light breaking through the glass.
Or maybe it’s rarity of the event, we usually eat breakfast at home.
This is a special occasion not for any reason other than it’s happened.
Moments of solemnity are interrupted by our waitress who brings a new day.
Found piled on top of flimsy paper plates is a sight of pure beauty.
Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, people tend to experience life more deliriously during this time.
But the food looks incredible. The pancakes are lightly coated with powdered sugar and
look like they had been pulled out of a magazine cover, as does the rest of the food.
My father and sister’s moods are lightened as food typically has that effect.
The hot chocolate is topped with whip cream and sprinkles something that I didn’t ask for and yet I’m endlessly grateful.
They bring a previously unexamined aspect of happiness to this already novelty of an outing.
Once the food arrives, I halt the instincts of everyone by forcing them to capture the moment.
I enjoy pictures because they are snapshots of reality, that can depict whatever you want.
They take time and turn it into moments, something truly innovative.
After the pictures, we eat, we make small conversation,
And most of all we enjoy each other’s company.
It’s similar to the breakfasts you often see out of movies, families living that idyllic lifestyle.

This morning I woke up before 6am
And only got 4 hours of sleep.
But despite all odds, this was a good morning.
Now I’m not sure if this change in mood is attributed solely to breakfast
Or other unmentioned factors but I do know this.
Physically, I feel tired.
Mentally, I feel better than I have in a while.
Perhaps, I can even persevere through the day.
I guess that’s just the power of blueberry pancakes.
2:33PM Wednesday, September 27, 2017
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