Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nat Lipstadt Jan 4
My best-ever for­tune cookie con­tained a vari­ant
of Feyn­man’s maxim:

The work will teach you how to do it.

                               <|>

not yet noon on New Year’s Day,
the new words search begins croakingly,
then stumble upon a philosophical notional,
celebrating messy processes, equating to outcome,
robbing me of my lazy-all-in-NY Day-no-work-ethics

many a-poem writ, more half-baked, on shelf resting,
but the pointillist theoretical, paint by point, insists:
a clean year is a clean canvas deserving, so wade
in the water of frozen creeks silencing gurgles,
catch and release, a natural new work now!

an admonishment most personal, for the
production of poems has dimmed, excuses,
plentiful but it seemed my harshest critic, MM&I,^
never provide an editor’s sign off, these pieces of me,
pass their date of expiration, &  will then, my own passing


the work teaches how  
but never guaranteeing good enough






1/1/22 4:46PM
^Me, Myself, & I
Ellis Oct 2021
I was told I didn’t need to know the Ingredients
For making a child with a heart of Gold
That they were born holding a Medal
Which said they owned everything and All
Of it was because they had convictional Purpose
The doctor would cry and bring a rose Flour
To thank the mother for Baking
An excellent batch of babies, Soda
Would be poured in champagne glasses, Salt
Sprinkled a top its head to spread like Butter
The flavours of intellect and it also Softened
The hearts of others around; old wounds Granulated
Smelled like caramelizing Sugar
Inside the room, the bodies Packed
Together to peer at the Brown
Strings of hair atop the child, who’s Sugar
-like shrieks of life broke open the Egg
Of love and made it taste like Vanilla
Its tears looked the most Semisweet
A dripping fountain of Chocolate
Fondue, be careful not to Chip
The teeth when it grows, it will grow Coarsely
Then, like jagged pebbles Chopped
With a dull knife; finally, assemble the Nuts
And bolts tight because this will hurt ,if
Not properly done, or simply toss away if the kid wasn’t desired
read the last word of every line
Mel May 2021
Tip.. Tap..
Children's shoes against the
Hardwood floors
Giggles in the air
Cookies in a jar

Tip.. Tap..
A child climbing a shelf
To reach the top
Only to fall
Leaving the cookies for the night
05 - 03 - 2021
Caroline Nov 2020
I devoured the last cookie
It submitted to my tongue so quickly
Delicious and soft destruction sweetie
Yet there is no shame, I am powerlessly coy
Bonded to my water-retention joy
Wait until your stare can see
My new lace ******* and underneath
plump
Luna Sep 2020
hold on to your opinion,
fight for your vote,
free yourself from self imprisonment,
imprison yourself in selfless things
just dont become selfish
swim with the tide
but dive where the crowd does not
Sleep when the mind wants you to
and live when the timing seems right
another unfinished biscuit
Gabriella Apr 2020
I focus
so much on
that tiny piece of
paper that comes in
      every little cookie
          And when I don't
                Get that little piece of paper 
                            My day is ruined and         
                              nothing seems to matter anymore
              Why do I rely on such a tiny piece of paper?
               Generalized for the masses
          To give me something to look forward to.
        This means nothing
But it meant something in a moment,
and it could have meant something so
much more
If it were in the cookie.
Fortune cookies are good until you open them and there's no fortune inside.
tiredkoalahugs Nov 2019
A cookie and a brownie
Two very different things
But put them together
Its a bakers dream
They are one in there own
Together a mystery
Combining them together
A bakers victory.

The smell wafts from the oven
The love at first bite
This is the bakers
best delight
She will share with her freinds
And watch them smile
Then they will talk
Talk for a while

This is a bakers dream
This is the bakers delight
Its the light that guides them
Throughout the night.
Poetic T Oct 2019
I was your
             crumble you licked, Mmm....

But your always my cookie...
Next page