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I am reminded
that those women
those that are built of stone and fire
and who still
somehow have softness

they shatter
and they

ancient china that once carried
delicate pastry
after pastry

each piece trembling
aching      to be together again
too tiny and sparse to adhere into
its classical
circle body

I am sorry that
   they cracked you on the edge
of the kitchen counter
where you once found safety

where you once
were not afraid

now every last slice is a threat
there are shards of sugar
and they stab
they ******* puncture

I should have
held you tighter
so that you would not
become so fractured

now I collect crumbs
******* them out of tight corners
I am trying to call back

the girl
who ate a hole in
the woman she so beautifully is

I beg the kitchen
to become a safe place again
so you
so your china
may not deteriorate

at the sight
of what was once
so **** sweet
like golden honey i sink into your eyes
the runny liquid coating the throat of my vision
its sweetness runs amok and invades my palate
and pierces my airways
rendering even breath
thick with it substance
towards the shores of your pools
i swim
but the viscous fluid forbids my movement

and we begin to thirst for water
simple and noiseless water
bitter and bland water
to solve our sweetness

i’ve asked for too much, honey
My stomach a grave of dead flesh,
     I feasted on the carcass of

             The deceased
now entombed within.

There was no burial song,
       Just the ritual shredding

Of flesh.

I'm now content, and the bones
     I discard as if tooth picks

Of satisfaction.

I'm not sorrowful,
           For my belly is full.

As I gaze at the flowers,

  forna I will never desecrate
               your beauty.
Gosh this makes me hungry
Nigdaw 3d
I have stretched my skin
Around an appetite I cannot quench.
A hunger to blot out the pain
With calorific gain;
Soon the life I was running from
Caught up with me,
I became consumed
By the size of my own sorrow
My unhappiness evident
By my bulging torso.

I can no longer run from the agony
I have become it.
Graff1980 Oct 11
I want to be fit,
but ****
I love

I want to be ripped
but ****
that donut
is so delicious.

I want to be cut
but I love the
pizza hut.

I want to be ****
but the Chinese
buffet just gets me.

I want to be healthy
and if it wasn’t for
junk food
I would be.

I got the gym **** down
it is the food that hurts me.
This poem brings a surprise,
Once I came home with bits of pies
In my hair, kids did what they dare,
Food fights all over everywhere,
All part of sacramental life,
Church celebrations full of strife,
No, I am not kidding,
In cream puffs we were skidding,
This Dracula  finally left the scene,
You try teaching all those tweens!
Feedback welcome Old teachers have hides like elephants!
Jeremy Rascon Sep 24
My mom taught me to clean the beans
            seemingly hundreds all on the counter,
            a delicious rain
               as they fall.
Find the "Bad" ones
                              the rocks,
                              the ****,
I am power,
       I decide,
           just for awhile.
Cleaning beans meant
                   my mom would make
                                   my favorites
   stuffed sopapillas,
the timeless and classic bean and cheese burrito.
The beans take all **** day to cook...
                                      they taught me
Elle Sep 23
i crave your silken skin
like silk itself

smooth and gentle
to the touch

your gooey choc chip
centre of cookie

that a part of me

(a whole lot of me)

wants nothing
more to devour.

i want your blowdried
half burnt - half curled hair
admire it
run my fingers across it

(a photo does it no justice)
i really want a homemade cookie.
Magic happens
In moments

A new story unfolding
Out from beneath the old mold
That served but never soared

Prince Metternich
Demanded a new desert
Fit for a prince's company

He commands his kitchen
"Let there be no shame on me tonight!"
This prince is not sweet

A sixteen-year old apprentice
Feels the heat of a palace kitchen
The stakes burning high

When the head chef finds himself ill
The palace's young apprentice,
Franz Sacher, greets his magic moment

With destiny
He cooks on the fly
A dense cake

Of dark chocolate,
apricot jam,
Unsweetened cream

That he'd never made before
Tasted before, imagined before
But that came to him

In a freak circumstance
But what is an accident?
To Him who has none
"Dass er mir aber keine Schand' macht, heut' Abend!"
("Let there be no shame on me tonight!")
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