for patty m(mombo)
who will be laughing
out loud, spilling her sippin’ coffee~
after she reads this~

woke up o f f c i a l l y “fully rested”
per the devices that monitor the body,
   hoping
that’s all they do, unless they are
writing this?

don’t think but can’t be sure,
cause the poems planted here,
were seedlings elsewhere, and
the Gatherers, my senses, be working
   overtime
as we (me & them) trapse
through life picking up the discards,
of songs. tv pundits, (see title!)
overheard snippets of street
conversations,
your poems & comments,
(as I walk among you)
almost everywhere,
anytime
anyhow,

to add
days to
my life span
because

the poem notions
hit me so fast,
hanging fruitfully
needy
for picking, need
more time to love
them so fulsomely

so maybe one or two
are Rem insertions by
my Apple watch, but
not many cause I write
in a funny style!

my son asked AI to write
poems in the manner of
his dad, and it replied,
“can’t help, his poems are
too weird, not reproduceable,
borderline crazy(!!!!);”

give us someone easier
like Whitman or Plath
or Leonard C., no problem
doing dat”

so this poem was an off chance remak,
heard in passing by my digesting ears,
and like Noah’s Ark,
loaded up with alphabets 2 x 2,
set sail to your receptors to bark at ya
awake baby

with hopes
that you rise and read this,
laugh way
out loud,
and suddenly you tutu,
feeling well-reset, rested and very
a very,
moderate modicum more

appreciated enuf

nml

In the kitchen I stand, creating culinary delights,
Every day I cook, with all my might.
With love and passion, I whip up flavors divine,
Hoping my creations bring joy to those who dine.

While I toil away, serving on silver plates,
Her majesty and her troop demand meals with a sigh,
But deep down I dream of a day,
When my efforts are acknowledged, in some way.
Or rather I dream of a day where I'll sit and taste of the royalty.

In this realm of spices and pots and pans,
I find solace, creating dishes with my own hands.
Each ingredient tells a story, a tale to be told,
As flavors dance together, creating something bold.

Though recognition may not come my way,
I cook with love, bringing sunshine to each day.
For in the kitchen, I find my own bliss,
Creating culinary masterpieces, a pure and simple bliss.

Her hands were busy making coffee

The cafe her home as much as her work place

Idle hands is a disastrous plan

Time unproductive is time wasted

This much, she understands

She is ever efficient in the kitchen

Wash, dry, put away, organise

A worker's favourite routine memorised

Her hands are making coffee for a patron

They take the coffee without saying hi

The honest hard work of the waitress  

Gets ignored time after time

i'm overwhelmed. overworked. under appreciated.

the work of people like her goes unnoticed. she feels as if everyone's under the spell of a lotus. all she wishes is that everyone could focus.

focus on the ups and the downs. the ins and the outs.

the work of people like her goes unnoticed.

I am the lion
That leads his pack with pride and honour
Who protects his loved ones

I am the pillar
That supports every building formed upon it
It would never let them fall

I am the buoy
That does its best to save every life
It will pull you away from danger

I am the joker
Who laughs the most under the ridiculous
Who makes sure you stay happy

*I am the cub
Helpless to the wondering hyenas

I am the tiles on the floor
Supporting weights and lifting hearts

I am the anchor
Sinking to the bottom of the sea

I am the broken
Laughters lost, tears overflowing