The dough spins above,
Launched from floured hands, they wait.
Curse that ceiling fan.

Let me buy something,
For the time being.
Confused what to eat,
Don't want to repeat.
Trying new dishes everytime,
Upgrading to food walk prime.
All I want is food and peace,
Would be happy if i get a chicken piece.
Don't know,
Anyone will tell me how?
Yet a big mystery,
Click before what you eat,
And then think what to eat next in street.

I survive by snatching breadcrumbs of happiness wherever I can find them
I love giving these breadcrumbs to those around me
Being able to make people happy
Somewhat more fulfilled
Maybe even make them smile
But now the strangest things have happened
A cascading fall of kingdoms releasing prisoners long cast into a dreamland of strange clouds, and nightmarish shadows
The cry for help heard around the world followed by the roaring outrage of its noble hearted
A plague of misinformation

For some reason the breadcrumbs don't fall from wherever they do, anymore
For some reason, I've become thinner
Hungrier
Now every breadcrumb feels like a feast
Every minor win my greatest achievement to date
Every loss, a tragedy and product of my own actions and choices

Last night was the first time I found a pile of breadcrumbs
Just waiting, with brightly lit lights gleaming off the toasty surface

And last night was the first time
That after gorging myself with breadcrumbs until I could no longer eat from discomfort
And investing many of them towards my freedom
I was sliced open
And forced to give them back

And now, I'm bleeding.
But the funniest part about it is
The hunger pangs have returned
And as my sliced belly growls
And I swim in the pool I've collected
All I can think about
Is another ******* Breadcrumb.

I woke up today,
forgiving myself
for letting you leave
with an empty stomach.

you ask for sweet lime
scent sour
I carve carefully
the seeds from the nectar
each white pip
tumbles on the floral saucer
as if dragon bones
divining your daily fortune.
I toss them to the crows,
palm-sized sparrows
so somewhere, perhaps
a tree will grow
and those limes
might actually be sweet.

-Chocolate

Smooth,creamy, highly addictive and altogether sweet,

Chocolate is and always will be my favourite treat!

How I know I’ve made it
At this point, your settled down now. Whether you have a wife or not. Your sitting on the porch of your house, probably on a home made porch swing, out in the country, but not too far from town. You have a grill on your patio, maybe a smoker next to it. Your golden retriever or husky/Shepard mix sitting right next to you, just kinda lookin out as you swing.
You have a pond or stream near by with fishing poles at the ready should you decide to fish. You have beers in the fridge, but not too many because your past that now, 3 or 4 should be fine for you. You have a cigar case sitting on your wooden table in your house, maybe a cigar from every duty station and deployment you had in the military (if you stuck to that), but you don’t smoke inside. Your grass is nicely mowed, smells nice all the time. You have a man cave in the basement for the boys, but you take your wife down there too because it’s awesome. It has a pool table, gaming system, weight bench, built in surround sound, and ice cold beer. Maybe a 5th of crown Apple or Jim beam to drink with the fellas. Wachob is over pretty often, he lives pretty close to you if everything worked out well. You guys like to go fishing in the stream, even if you don’t catch anything it’s still fun. Friday’s you and Wachob will grill up some burgers for the kids and/or the boys depending on how things happened. Country music playing in the background. You talk about putting in a pool, but never really do for some reason. You have a side by side or quad in the garage, ready to take out for spotting or plowing in the winter. You also have a nice truck, not too ugly but not too nice. You take it in to town to work and because you don’t seclude yourself, you go out with friends and go to Lowe’s or Home Depot for home improvement projects. You visit your parents often, and you have them over often too. Your nephews and nieces come to fish and eat now and then, Wachobs family too. You, Jacob and Wachob sit their with or without your wives, take a good hard look around you, crack a cold beer and cheers because you all realize that you’ve made it.

rosie, you can trick them all you want
if that’s what you want to do
but sometimes, simply
food is for thought
and ****** will come up to your door
at 9 pm
to put you in a mood

so next time you skip dinner
if that’s what you’ll do
think of the serums
your sister’s been through

My previous school’s canteen had a treat
called Custard Bun, just worth 20 pesos
One of the cheaper snacks, amidst a variety of 25s and 27s
There were times I skipped lunch due to a meeting
But during the five minutes left going up to the fourth floor,
I would dash towards the canteen, just to buy Custard Bun,
and pair it with the classic Calamansi Juice
What makes it special, you ask?
A cheek-like bun, whose only design
was a yellow custard swirl on top
Soft, and
Filled with a pale yellow cream
That isn’t too sweet, unlike its choco-bun rivals
What made it so different?
Perhaps it reminded me of the olden days
Which I sometimes reminisce about, between fits of silence
In this unfamiliar place
I remember, how like its sweetness takes me back to when I was a child
When I loved eating this bread called Graciosa, which was just a loaf of bread topped with
sugar and butter
How simple it always seemed then, how it never needed more
How in times when we get distracted by life’s complexities
Sometimes an ordinary treat is what we need to get by

I remember writing articles for a sports event —
it was night at school
And someone offered us a big box of abandoned swirl-topped buns
Still in their plastics
Untouched by the athletes they were meant to serve
I thought, how lonely they must be in the night
So I took one, and another, which turned to five,
Brought some home, ate some along the way
It felt like I finally found consolation, eating the bun,
Whose taste I could never put my finger to
And afterwards, whenever I passed the canteen
I always looked for it, for the bun that felt like home
And often see one hidden amongst others, just waiting to be
Found
The bun which I discovered,
Was named Custard
And I realized, even if I never tasted Custard in my whole life
It was like a forgotten friend, who came back from a long journey
And I just remembered its name

So if you ask me,
Why I love Custard Bun so much,
If you ever had that feeling of remembering something
Seemingly long lost, from eons ago
And you find it in the most unexpected of places
Bringing with it the most precious of memories
You’d understand so

In a new place, I hope to find it once again.