Every Tuesday night
From January to April
The highlight of my night
Was a chocolate croissant.

I would sit and listen
To theories and methods,
Literature and research,
And on break I would have one.

I would order it each night
With salivating anticipation.  
As I handed over my money
They put it in the oven.  

And each night
They would call out
"Chocolate croissant?"
And I would grab the bag.

I would devour that morsel
With joy and elation,
And as I felt it go down
My chest would warm -

Not only from
The warm croissant,
But also from the joy
Warming my heart.

It was the best part
Of those horrible evenings
Of literature and research
Theory and methods.

Sometimes,
If I was feeling spicy,
I would get two -
One on each break...

And sometimes
On Thursdays
I would get two more
For History and PR.

Yes,
Those chocolate croissants
Got me through
My last semester of college.

When I was feeling stressed,
Or feeling down
From the subject matter,
I would eat one,

And I would feel better.
And I bet
As you are reading this
You want one.

Do yourself a favor,
Go buy yourself
A chocolate croissant -
And enjoy it.  

Let it help you escape
From your worries
And your cares
For about 90 seconds

As you devour that
Delicious pastry.
And let it warm your chest
With chocolate and joy.

I contemplate
I buy it on aromatic instinct
The fight emerges
Don't eat it!
You're not even hungry!
I sit in my head
While the words debate
The palate ultimately wins
My hands follow orders
The sweet melting chew
Savory icing
Made for my mouth
I close my eyes
Taste buds dance
Pure enjoyment
A moment has escaped me
In my candy land
Until it's gone
A guilty pleasure
Plagued stomach
Churning to
Disappointed intestines
An alien
They don't quite understand
As it has no nutrients or vitamins to absorb
Sending the lipids and sugars
Away to live as fat
Surrounding areas I dislike most
I look in the mirror
And I imagine where that regretful donut went.

© Jl 2016

When I was a child,
I fondly remember
eating carrots from 
the dirt of our garden.

My brother, my sister, and I
would pull the carrots,
with great care, from
the dirt of our garden.

We would wash them
sometimes in the sink,
sometimes with the hose,
to remove the dirt of our garden.

But even then
as we chewed those carrots
we could still sometimes taste
the dirt of our garden.

What is cheese to me..
salvation of the tastebuds!! where the wave of cheeder sticks to my tastebuds attacking with flavor!!!
i cannot imagine a world without cheese.. i mean **** can you put cheese on that..
what kind of cheese is not yours.. not cho cheese why because its mine!!
like the lone dorito how i love to let it melt in my mouth.. jesus what kind of cheese do they put on that..
and pizza.. ***!!! parmy cheese please..
love to open a block of cheese and cut me a big slice.. my cheese my size the way i want it.. and it will not get hard in the fridge if u put foil on it!!!

Oh, plate of bacon, how you tempt me so
With your sizzle and your crunch I do crave
A gift from Gods wrapped in a tasty bow
There are no leftovers to even save

Why can't I feel myself grow full from you?
There are no others that can be as true
Your fame is unmatched by any before and it's easy to see with such allure

With every new bite, the tears grow stronger
This small plate won't last for that much longer
As the bacon leaves, I fear what's to come
The plate is bare, with not even a crumb

Oh, plate of bacon, I still need you so
With hope, I pray for more bacon to show

The brain is a terrible
Thing to waste, will it
Make me smart, will
It give memories of
Past mistakes.

Fingers are the digits
That have wrote a thousand
Words, think what they have
Touched the senses they felt
Around the world.

Eyes are the window to
The soul, they have seen many
Things to enlighten the mind.
To wish they would never open
Again for fear of what was seen,
But never to see it again.

A heart it beat for love, sorrow
Touched more than we know,
It beat from birth it has beat more
Than a million times, each energy
For life from the start.

Friend I ask you this, why when
We eat do you think of these things,
Don't think of there parts as what was
And what they were.

They are dinner for us, to fill are
Stomachs nothing more, there were
What they were, but know just
Parts food to feed  us nothing more.

.

                                    C
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                         é          ri         é
                       r            C             r
                      i              h               i
                     C              é                C
                     h            r     i             h
                     é            C     h            é
                      r            é    r             r
                       i             i  C             i
                        C            h             C
                          h          é            h
                             é        r         é
                               r       i       r
                                   i         i

You were like mozzarella sticks to me
I always wanted more than I could get
(You were so good, how could I resist?)
But when the main course came
I realized that I just had enough