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Gods1son Apr 9
There is something
about good food that is magical
The magnetic force of its aroma
gets your nose hooked even from afar,
gets your mind picturing its appearance
And when you have it before your eyes,
The mouth is all watered up like
soil after a heavy downpour of rain.
The teeth are warming up to squeeze
the juice out of the food
The taste buds are leaping for joy,
Ready to savour the taste
The muscles in the throat are roaring in anticipation for the food to go through like
a train going through a tunnel
The stomach is ready and eager to be filled
How magical good food is!
You know what I mean!
Jenna Mar 30
He insists
preparing his zucchini
paying adequate attention
becoming a cook-off
looking forward to the tiramisu
the event drastically physical
Can someone figure out what I did? (thinking emoji)
Arisa Mar 7
i'm sorry.
the leftover pizza
hidden in the back of the fridge,
just looked so tasty.

- the smell of pepperoni still lingers on my shirt.
I was hungry, okay?
soli Nov 2018
the noodles are elegant, lovely and fair,
i see now there's a reason
why you're called angel hair.
buttery smooth, and golden light reflection
it's strikingly radiant
the epitome of perfection.

the sauce is as red as my cheeks
when one is deeply in love,
far higher than a mountain peak.
look, it flies in the saucepan
alluring is not a word to describe,
but truly, it's so hot, it needs a fan.

the meatballs are spheres of joy
what geometry could calculate its area?
though it ignores me, i tell it to not play coy.
how lovely the ringing sounds of sizzles,
light my ear with fireworks unheard,
oh, how my feelings are a shizzling!

oh spaghetti, my love, my joy, my life,
it's unnatural to see my tears fall on the plate.
you are my happiness, my leftover bowl of strife.
i mourn when there is none left
for breakfast in the morning,
but i dream of you when i go to bed.
StarBloom Nov 2018
Its language. Listen.
It’s the dance of our devotion.
Open your emotion.
To honour this temple that houses the spirit of all madness,
wild women, roaring chaos.
As the feminine I release all guilt and shame...
Owning my sexuality. Owning my truth.
And taking back, the body as Mine.

I’m not here to be a pleaser in anyway, how utterly boring.
I take back my power, and I don’t only stand in my power,
but I Stomp the streets of chaos in defeat.. empowered..
i Soar the skies of the infinite eyes... empowered.

By the knowingness that I am free, in my body.

I will not allow, the media, the conditionings that are so stuck in their solidity, without any motion, their consciousness is stagnant and I say **** THAT.

Bring the sacred waters back,
and let the blood of bones wash over you..
as you remember the ancient essence of what is it to be Primitive,
free in the Body.

I’ll dance for you, Naked darling.
I hope you turn the lights on, and see yourself.
In remembrance.  Visible.
Free in the Body.

I hope you Rip off the layers when you get angry or sad,
and let the healing of your body, make you deliciously Mad.
Scream, and remember it’s all a dream.

The sizzling fire within you is the source of illuminating,
this essence so bright will **** all your frights.
Simply burning the layers of illusions,
So you may meet yourself as the fractal of fusions

Take it all off,
And see what you are made of.
The Clock is 12:57 as my not so favorite math teacher asks for someone to make a prayer before we march outside for lunch. The prayer is quickly done. Thank God it was short as i quickly jump out my sit marching to the door. So focused embarking on my journey with a slightly angry face, a reflex it’s just hard to smile when the man is hungry. Silly I is leaving the room with no food, I quickly remember I have a gorgeous looking Chelsea bun chilling in my back pack. Quickly going back to my desk to my surprise my bag is perfectly placed by the window glancing directly at the merciless sun as it hits directly on my bag. I pick up my beg sliding my fingers inside the hot looking oven taking out my juicy looking Chelsea bread as all the cream had melted top. Not wasting anytime I unwrap the thin plastic on top as I bite on this appetizing bun. As I continuously plough, sinking my teeth graciously thanking Mr Sun for plastering my Chelsea bun with honey. I can’t help it my mind is exploding this is just too much deliciousness. I promise you it was heavenly, lip smacking, yummy, sweet deliciously tasting. I continued to bite, lick my fingers, bite my finger "ouch!"and continue to devour as I get sad to the realization that I there was nothing left for me to eat.
leave your Chelsea bun on the sun for a few seconds i promise you wont regret it.
Donna Oct 2018
Lemon spongy cake
Served with spoonfuls of custard
And summer is born
Me dean and kids had lemon cake and custard was lovely x
Annie Oct 2018
I was prescribed
hot chocolate
by a woman who let me
cry in her chair
on two occasions.

On bad days
I make myself have a hot chocolate
not because they’re particularly my favourite drink,

but because having this hot cup of
makes me feel like I’m doing something
to comfort myself
when I don’t know what else to do.
Anya Aug 2018
Yummy yummy
In my tummy
Till I’m full
And then it’s crummy
Aaron LaLux Jun 2018
Can I tell you a secret,
I think you’re the most beautiful,
when you wake up with no makeup,
in my arms where you are held,

and you’re stretching and yawning,
and I’m purring an pawing,
and it seems,
that any moment without you,
is just time in between,
and I know this is hard to explain,
but do you know what I mean?

I mean,
you know what I mean.

I’ll make the work worth it,
come join this One Man Cult,
we can all dance in the sunset,
it’s our choice but not our fault,

nope not at all.

No denial without admittance,
not the government don’t keep secrets,
no espionage at all,
I’m an open book you can read it,

hey you,
can I tell you a secret?

It’s our choice,
but not our fault,
we can all dance in the sunset,
come join this One Man Cult,

thought that we were one,
until I realized we’re all things,

can I tell you a secret,
I think you’re the most beautiful,
when you wake up with no makeup,
in my arms where you are held,

and you’re stretching and yawning,
and I’m purring an pawing,
and it seems,
that any moment without you,
is just time in between,
and I know this is hard to explain,
but do you know what I mean?

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

Venice, California; 2018
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