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annh Sep 2020
You ask of which I am most afeart, the rumbling tumblings of the troll beneath the bridge or the tinkering favours of an eccentric fairy godmother. Alas, it is the marzipan crumbs of inspiration leading me down the brambled garden path which most unsettle me; the ink that does not write; the unpainted page with not a gingerbread sight.
‘If you ever find yourself in the wrong story, leave.’
- Mo Willems, Goldilocks and the Three Dinosaurs.
Coraline Hatter Sep 2018
i want a love
so old-school that it makes me cringe

the kind of love
that everyone is jealous of
because of how good we fit

a love full of
love letters
music mixes
and silly dates

a love that smells like
the foggy autumn mornings
crowded coffee shops
and gingerbread in the cold city

i want a love
so pure
and true
full of joy
maybe I should date the autumn weather.
shåi May 2017
she tastes like cinnamon gum
i want to inhale her smell
you are sweeter than before

she smells like cherry pie
her sharp breath
against my red

her green eyes
like gumdrops
on a hot summer day

she is my gingerbread
warm to my touch

Evil old witch,
Evil old witch,
I see you bad ugly evil old witch.
You tried to shove me in that evil old oven of yours but I was much to quick, you fat ugly evil old witch.
You tried to feed me frosting and treats but I spat them all back out at you, toot sweet.
I hate you, I hate you!
I scream at that evil old witch, I hope your house goes stale soon, you fat evil ugly old witch!
I hope you get entombed within that ugly old house of treats.
Your a evil old witch,
Your a evil old witch,
I hope the forest trees fall on top of you and your crumy gingerbread house too.
I'll be back,
I'll be back,
Then we will see who pushes who! You fat ugly evil old witch I really hate you!
Michael Robert Triska copyright 2017
The story of Hansel and Gretel always fascinated me. Can you just feel the anger within that girl that meets up with that old witch in the poem?
The town of Bakewell is under siege, gingerbread men are running free.
The bakers scream. Oh please, oh please save us our brave king, but the brave king is at a loss, for no one in the court has a thought.
When in the back of the court a small voice did say, I will save the town my way.
My boy, my boy what will you do. I will eat my way through, I love gingerbread and so do you.
The gingerbread men screamed and yelled, oh please, oh please don't eat us our brave king.
But it was too late, the  boy and king had gobbled their fill! Oh my brave boy you have saved Bakewell!
It's going into my nursery rhymes book. It's part of a table top game I am writing called The saviors of Bakewell?
Michael Robert Triska copyright 2017
I envy him a lot
Just look at his eyes
Burning with so much passion
Then look at mine
Just some black beady eyes

Just look at his smile
Filled with determination
Then look at mine
Just a crooked half assed smile

Just look at how he moves
It flows with so much eagerness
Then look at mine
Just a lazy *** that tries hard

I envy him a lot
How can he be like that?
Why can't I be like that?

Just look at him as a person
And you'll feel a different sensation
Then look at me and you'll see
Just a half baked gingerbread man.
October 4, 2016
I work hard, yes. But I never did something with so much passion. That's a sad thing.
And maybe that's why things don't go well with me.

— The End —