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Emily Miller Jan 2018
Outside,
a haze of mist pins the cold to the ground.
Moving through it gathers the moisture on my brow
and it drips,
so slowly that it gathers the heat and salt from my skin
and it feels familiar,
as familiar as my own tears.
So familiar is it
that it's almost a comfort
and I do not wipe them from my cheeks.
The heavy air muffles sounds,
transporting me back to my childhood
when broken ears muddled every note,
and I am lulled,
my walk sways,
my coat warms,
and the slow shuffle through grass
in my worn, leather boots,
becomes as comforting as the gentle undulation
of a rocking chair
or a mother's womb.
A healthy musk wafts upwards when my boots cut through the hay on the floor of the coop,
and the content clucking of the hens encourages me,
my hands rooting through the wood shavings,
and there they are,
smooth and shaped to perfection,
the rich brown that makes my stomach grumble in anticipation.
I place my treasures in the folds of my skirts,
and turn to leave,
sighing as I acquiesce to a return to a harsher realm,
far beyond my dear, grey faery world,
with lichen-covered tree bark,
and wordless creatures for company.
Svode Nov 2017
Eggs on bread, eggs on rye.
Eggs in the sky, by and by.
My love for eggs will never die
since eggs will never tell a lie.

Eggs on toast, on a roast.
Eggs are always valued the most.
My love for eggs is something I'll boast,
from east to west, and coast to coast.

Eggs are hard, they never crack.
Unless hit with the force of a resounding smack.
I will be there to protect, and to hold back.
And for the egg's safety I will attack.

Eggs with butter, eggs with beans.
What do you think this all means?
You are an egg; a fine cuisine.
And my love for you will forever be serene.
Eggg
Monika Nov 2017
A morning haiku
About my food for breakfast:
Scrambled eggs with toast.
Crandall Branch Oct 2017
last night i dreamed of you
over the moon with happiness
viewing your beautiful hair
egregiously falling in curls

i love you so much baby
so much more than you could ever imagine

love is life
i know this for a fact
finding love in the strangest places
eggs remind me of you
acrostic poem
please comment and feedback below! thanks :)
MindsPalace Oct 2017
Peter got his very own egg. His had a package of skittles.
Lizzy got her very own egg. Hers had two rolling dice.
Sarah got her very own egg. Hers had a book of riddles.
Landon got his very own egg. His had bean-bags with rice.
Kathy got her very own egg. Hers had a mini clown.
Henry got his very own egg. His had a lock and key
I got my very own egg, and I was jumping up and down
As this was my first egg that was given just for me.
I had reached the age of ten, so now I was allowed
To have my own egg this easter, and boy was I proud.
I took my egg, I tore it open, and what was inside?
What was inside was suddenly something I wanted to hide...
"What's inside?" Asked Peter and Lizzy.
"What'd you get?" Asked Sarah and Landon.
"Is it candy?" Poked Kathy and Henry.
And I ran away, because nothing is a hard companion.
Nothing. My egg had nothing. I tried to let it go...
It really should've been easier as the months went all too slow...
But nothing, good old nothing: It stayed and seemed to grow...
And nothing's now my only friend, and because I made it so.
Eva Ellen Aug 2017
A man once told me, "Never write a movie where a man is left shouting after a woman who is sure to return"

I was raised by wolves and Don Quixote
lead with(in) the heart; regret with(in) the brain
dead weight hangs hungry in my chest
I see fear creep in my knees
my teeth are looking to be tested
my skin is stained like a constellation capricorn gemini pisces
I am my own galaxy:
only porcelain angels looking over me
backstage pass to my caterpillar identity crisis
My imagination (machinations of muddled emotions) was waiting for someone like you

His laugh rattles my subconscious and decomposes my rigor mortis
kiss youmeus like your tongue was made of money
finger me as much as I do my hair
I like sinking into your mind; it's warm in here
Eggs&Baco;;
bread & butter
you're the apple pie to my adam's apple (with all the cavities)
I'm a headless chicken framing instant coffee amber memories
ice cream melts the closer I get to the sun...

It rained today.
Some statues talk, some people have nothing to say;
who will you dip in gold and call your temple?
Why does it have to be art and not just us?
you're just another outlet mall; your sheep are in Leeds
the shoes are from your closet and I need reupholstering
my feet will go where they dare but
the yellow brick road is turmeric and
shame
I'm on a deserted island and all I see are birds
all my doors have a neon EXIT sign
It began and ended with the Space Odyssey-

"Martha!"
Hasan Aspahani Jul 2017
IF we are sheltering under our own shadow
Who should fly higher in this confined space?


Morning come, evening come, shift the direction of the shadows
Space: a giant cage, not embraced with a wing of a span


Let me incubate your eggs, I'll take care and feed your kids
World: a big nest, we are held together, won't be exhausted warmth.
David Cunha Jun 2017
It was never this easy
            Never this easy to cry
But the sorrow haunts me
And the thought of not having you
                is enough
                          to break walls and shatter constelations.

Yet, I don't want any of that
                             Except you
And your mad smile
And waking up electryfied with the sight
                             of your ******* and the smell of eggs cooked
First thing in the morning
june 23, 2017   10:32 a.m.
Richard Grahn May 2017
My yolks are runny
But it's not very funny
Can't seem to catch them
What can I say? I miss my runny yolks. Going for a little levity here.
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