She doesn't think
I'm much of a guy...
I meant much of
An interesting guy.
I did say "interesting" before...
Didn't I?

Why?
Why does it matter?
Oh I love her I think...
We will go well together,
Like bread and jam
wait.. a better rhyme...
Like bread and "butter".

I must tell you...
The amount of efforts I make!
Even wrote her a poem to which
She said "For God's sake!
We are not in 19th century. Get new..."
It made me feel like leftover cake.

"Swag", she said
Something you lack ***;
I opened net and googled it
After our short conversation.
The guys must do this and that
Looking at it I went into depression!
(Have you seen the latest trends?
I'm soooo far behind. oh good heaven!)

Back home I sunk in my sofa low
I was ****** exhausted,
Nothing I did pleased her
Didn't get her one bit excited;
She wanted someone bad and strong
And all she got was a guy *******.

Why is it that...
Her crush drinks a bottle of whiskey down,
In one gulp and calls her cutie pie.
And I can't even pull off a leather jacket,
I'm just a ******* teetotaler orange juice guy.
In this world full of jibber-jabber,
I look at her as if She's my only high!

Okay!
So I'll love her silently and pray,
Like how Earth keeps Moon
Neither too close nor far away;
A miracle is all I hope for
(like the guy she loves shifting to Burma)
Then she'll have no other way!

I know...
I'm not a bad boy!
Why o God you've made me this nice?!
She loves to play with fire and you've
And you've...
Made my heart outta ice!

There is nothing quite like a Caramel Apple Thumbprint Scone
I bought two tonight, one for the road and one for home.
Sometimes I buy one for me and one for Mum,
Didn’t bother to tell her I ate them both…every… last… crumb.

Tonight on my way home I decide to buy a baker’s dozen
The trouble with that is I ate six and got an upset stomach
Now here I sit upon this throne, tootin’ and thinking all alone
That there’s nothing like a Caramel Apple Thumbprint Scone….hic!

K.E. Carman
2017

HER MAJESTY LOVES HER CHOCOLATE BISCUIT CAKE
SHE TAKES IT EVERY WHERE
PEOPLE LOVE TIM TAMS AND CHOCOLATE
WITH SWEETS YOU REALLY CARE


IT DOESN'T HURT TO HAVE A NIBBLE
ON THE SWEETS YOU LOVE THE MOST
HER MAJESTY LOVES HER CHOCOLATE BISCUIT CAKE
LET'S ALL JUST RAISE A TOAST

A leaf in a crust
let afar this parade
that tidy a tree
so soon my plea
here through the town
our smoothly planned route
now a destination for all.

Tough circles
.
are
a piece of cake

if i lived in a world where dinosaurs roamed
as beasts of enormous size,
i would be a fern.
and if you lived within this world
and drank from the purest springs,
we would never meet.

if i were a cake of velvet frosting
with many layers to make my shape,
filled with jelly of dark fruit
preserved beyond their days,
you would cringe at my appearance
and never know my taste.

if i remained myself,
and you remained as you,
we would be these things,
and know not what to do.

My life is like a piece of cake.
Some parts are better than others and I eat it, bit by bit. Slowly.
Some parts I have to choke down, others I inhale willingly.
They never told me that you meet people you want to share your cake with, but they taste it, then decide it doesn't taste good.
Then you meet someone who tastes it, and decides to stay. They stay through the nasty moldy parts, and gag on it with you. They stay when the frosting is sweet and the cake is moist.
You tasted my cake for so long and you've stayed through the rotten parts and through the goods.
You wiped my tears when I found bits of glass embedded in my bite and swallowed them.
When I was worried about my cake becoming rotten and you leaving me, you held me and eased my worries.
When my cake was sweet and fluffy, we ate it with absolute joy.

My heart didn't break
When you texted me "we're through."
It broke too, too terribly long ago.

You'd push away and longingly stare
At those with a nobody
pretending to be someone.

You closed off your life
And blamed me for respecting you
For giving you space.

But now, your grindstone letters
Which have crushed me for so long
Merely ground the flour
That Will, one day, bake a beautiful cake.

I wait for the day,
That may never come,
When I can say

Stronger now
Better now
Repaired now
Myself now.

But like the dust in the mill,
You've stained the flour, tainted the cake.
You got what you wanted, but still you take,
With the impunity of the grindstone, crushing the flour.

And that is why the flour never wears on the grindstone.