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Sabian T Warren May 2019
Legends be told, and written in tomes of a creature which roams the residence of the family: Lee-
Through shrubs and trees, though silent and unseen, it seeks seeds-
Ones of fire. Ones of sweet.
The creature seen only when: upon them, it feeds, simultaneously.
Its form of a boar with a tongue of alchemy, ignites in a spectrum of brilliancy. Hovering eyes remain but for a moment and weep vehement tears; crystallizing with the essence of harvest.
This poem is a story about a certain fiery candy called "Tear Drops;" lovingly produced by an online vendor: CaliforniaBlazingChilieFarm. Please Check them out and enjoy, fellow Pepperheads
Sabian T Warren May 2019
If gloom descends; Capsicum appends:
Removing dooms in plumes of red lumens.
Biological conversion from stagnation to movement.
Shaman, brother, lover, friend.
Bold holistic resolute.
Unequivocally coalesced in this; a magnificent fruit.
Pepperheads Unite!
Andrew Rueter Mar 2019
As a small child
I constantly seek any kind of discovery
But things get wild
With what the kitchen cupboard brings

Without my shepherd
I grab the pepper
I don’t know what it’s meant for
So in my hands it’s centered

My eyes start to tear up
My nose starts to tingle
My fingers will clear up
This temporary wrinkle

I rub my eyes
Bringing demise
Violent cries
Follow pries

All I feel is pain
Surging to my brain
In my eyes torrential rain
Burning me until I’m insane

All I see is red
Inside my head
From pepper fed
To my eyes of dread

Father grabs me
And holds me under a faucet
I think he’s attacking
I think he’s lost it

Help he’s killing me
I’m going to drown
With water he’s filling me
So he’ll no longer frown

But he pulls me out before I die
Much to my surprise
There’s no pain in my eyes
And I can see my father is wise

I mistakenly
Thought he had forsaken me
And was murdering me blatantly
But he was actually saving me

So it’s him I trust
Because I must
But I have a lust
For wild gusts

So I am his student
Yet not as prudent
I’m always truant
Ignoring influence

But I pick it up along the way
Just before my life decays
I recall a helpful phrase
Or words of praise

I get lost
But then I am found
The only cost
Is to think I have drowned
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2019
One of the best feelings
The first bite of my favorite meal.
It's hard to decide if it's hunger
Or anticipation.
All of this savored in smile.
The spice of salt, pepper among things
The aroma coming from plate to spoon,
The simplicity of it all.
I live for this feeling,
This warm cozy feeling,
A tight hug from meal to lips.
Theres no better feeling.
Tight hugs
Followed by her kisses
Sally A Bayan Oct 2018
One afternoon, 'neath the shed,
mr. groundhog waited...
nothing in sight,  not a cat, nor a leapfrog
just the fading sound of walking clogs
"oohhh, she's gone!  time to burrow path is still short and narrow."
mr. groundhog started digging.....up to the rotting log
of the wide, cut-up oak tree, upon which, a bull frog
landed...then, leapt to a hidden garden bog.
fine rains started to wet the last, mr. groundhog,
emerged from his hole on the grassy center
he popped his head out.....suddenly, great fear
enfolded him, he felt a rushing wind...whatever, whoever,
could be watching....then, an odd scent filled the air,
it persisted...that stinging smell...of pepper
lucky woodchuck! the scent dispersed in the ether
its tiny granules got soaked in rainwater.
mr. groundhog sighed..."i'll leave it to the weather,
i'm kinda tired...........october, is almost over."

Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
October 24, 2018
Not at all fiction....groundhogs have started digging,
ruining my sister's green backyard...ground pepper
is one of many deterrents....and it's kinda cruel....
Shawn Feb 2017
I shall not call myself
a poet
to thee
I shall allow you
to walk by
and judge me
like the bottle of wine
you did not buy
because my label
appears plain.

on the outside
I may be
but within
I'm bursting
with flavors
you can't even begin
to see.

And I won't whisper
your misgivings

I'm sure
is sweet
I know
and perhaps

You won't know all
by looking at me
even once you're in
tasting to try
the lingering spice
leaves you
drinking me dry.

and even then..
Light House Sep 2016
She -- the black -- which had salted him,
as well as every single one of his wounds.
But he - be the white, now blotching her;
he be the white, peppered now
on her skin.
Many call some situations & life in general, "grey or gray." Others see things for as they are, "black & white."
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