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Rose Brown Dec 2019
‘recovery’
tastes like olive oil
and vinegar.
in your kitchen, at 1am
after 2 bags of crisps and vegetables.
tastes like cheap chicken breast
with spicy marinade
from the ****** canteen in college
and m&ms you gave away.
recovery tastes like failure,
like pieces of pizza you weakly stole
from your friends
because you spent your money on hair dye and nail
polish instead.
Poetic T Dec 2019
Be the reason the chicken
                        crossed the road..

Ask it to jump
                      in your bucket...
Bob Wax Dec 2019
Stomach rumble
Inside shuffle
Hungry again
Calories for lend
Didn't I just eat
Why the constant repeat
Don't wanna stay alive
Kamikaze surprise

Stomach rumble
This time it's trouble
Gone to long
Foods not fond
Endless appetite
Just end my life
Consume me for once
Dishonest trust
I'm addicted to writing,
My feelings, my thoughts.
not only writing poems,
but letters and stories.
Pen and paper,
Computer and keyboard,
marker and board,
anything but,
I'll always need more.
has nothing to do with stuffing except the last line lol.
Tori Schall Nov 2019
A little bit of sugar
a tiny pinch of salt
A couple of spoonfuls of cinnamon.
I single chocolate drop
throw it in some flour
and add a cup of milk
That is how you bake something
I hope that it did help.

Now mix the ingredients, until they blend so well
and you'll have a mixture
that looks as delicious as it smells.
Then put it in the oven
set it to bake
take it out when the timer dings
and you'll have yourself a cake.
Anne Scintilla Nov 2019
was a sticky mess dripping slowly
down the broken walls of
what we called home, and i

the ever so buzy bee who hover
to stare from a distance remain
as my gut twists of hunger

for the continued days
of work: measuring the rooms
that would strategically contain

our— my, remaining efforts
in keeping this symbiosis a force
enough to drive through

the blistering storms and past
what you thought was the drought.
but this, is the fallout

where the flowers cease to bloom
and the sun grows weary
to shine on leftovers

of what we called was home
as honey drips ever so slowly
into a painful mess to clean.
releasing all my poems that i kept so dearly for a year. hoping this one reminds you that all relationships are a two way street.

a.s.
tiredkoalahugs Nov 2019
The weather is swelling
The birds are not calling
not singing a song
The fires are lit
The chimneys are filled
And hot cocoa warms our hearts
The wind is howling
The dogs are growling
And mama plays a harp
Thanksgiving is coming
Hot water is running
And kids are laughing about
The blanket butrito as dad wraps them up
This is what family should really be like
Loving kind and fun
Not feeling like you want to run
Family should be nights by the fire
Drinking some coaco
Watching a movie all night
As the kids fall asleep in the middle of it all
This is what I wish for
This is what I want
This is something
That I will never have.
Mark Toney Nov 2019
Love of food!
Gastronomy-
Focus?
Gourmet cuisine,
Foods imbued with life,
Sensual,
Multi-
Cultural,
Lavish,
Holistic,
Essential,
Expe­riential,
Food to live and die for!
Simply,
“Best food possible”
11/11/2019 - Poetry form: Yalto - Created by international poet Edward Ibeh - 15 lines, syllable scheme per line: 3, 4, 2, 4, 5, 3, 2, 3, 2, 3, 3, 5, 6, 1, 5 - Final line quote from the book, The Physiology of Taste, by the 18th century French lawyer, politician and gourmet, Brillat-Savarin: "Gastronomy is the knowledge and understanding of all that relates to man as he eats. Its purpose is to ensure the conservation of men, using the best food possible." - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2019
Mitch Prax Nov 2019
We shared
brussels sprouts
and a magic like no other-
a magic that I haven't found since.
Mark Wanless Nov 2019
I don't know
  
i eat the food of the soft and hard work
no time is left for a god to appear
cross the river and find a path that's worth
a life of effort all live with the fear

of not existing in the mind of self
and what we call god is a band aid that
is better than nothing as we bleed out
our life upon a tabula raza

which is true yet malleable so now
we walk and talk the walking dead maybe
not a word is true that's thought softly in
a moment of real yell's and we follow

as slaves to the inner tune unheard that
can be peaceful if we try i don't know
inspired
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