#dairy
The person who stands in every storm,
who supports every soul in every situation—
yet for me, there is no one.Their words cut open the quiet,
breaking my heart,
leaving my trust bleeding on the floor.Every time I try to grow,
to lift my plans a little higher,
suddenly I feel like nothing to them,
like my presence is air.They speak to everyone
of all that I give,
but I do not feel their care.So I whisper to myself:
I need to be independent.
I will not build my life
on someone else’s changing mood.I do not want to stay.
I want to walk away.
There is a path I see ahead—
where I choose calm over chaos,
where I choose quiet joy over noise.I choose a life of gentle happiness,
and a peaceful heart.
Mar 18
Mar 18, 2026 at 9:56 AM UTC
Those thoughts of yours—
they make me weak,
sweat-born by thinking of you.Situation tangled:
sad? happy? I don't know.
Fat from feasting on pain.You know I'm not
that person now—
not slipping into that room
this time around.Relation shattered,
broke because I told
without softness.
Mar 14
Mar 14, 2026 at 5:38 AM UTC
There once was a cow from Calcutta
Who mooed with a st-st-st-stutta:
She'd m-m-m-MOO
At the passing Hindoo
Who'd milk her and churn some b-butta.
Mar 5
Mar 5, 2026 at 11:52 PM UTC
Twas in the Shire of Calabar that Stanley Pitt was born.
His mother‘s name was Stella and his father‘s name was Sean
Stanley was a bright young lad as far as they could tell
but when it came to milking cows now this is where he fell…
He’d grasp the teat and pull on it until the cow turned blue.
He’d even lie beneath the thing to get a better view
He tried so hard but every day he couldn’t comprehend
why every time he touched the beast the milk just seemed to end!
One day Stanley got a “spark”, a really beaut idea!
He got in the pub while he was sipping on a beer.
He built himself a new machine that ****** them jerseys dry!
Changed the whole towns’ fortunes in the winking of an eye.
So if you’re ever losing hope, think of our Stanley!
For every dog can have it’s day…. And a taste of VICTORY!
Feb 9
Feb 9, 2026 at 8:59 AM UTC
T'was the night before Christmas
The kids were in bed
Dreaming of Santa
All dressed up in red
The wife was upstairs
Wrapping gifts in our room
I was watching old Scrooge
In old London gloom
when out of the blue
there was a knock at the door
I leapt from the couch
and i slipped on the floor
i answered the knock
i still got there quick
and to my surprise
there stood St. Nick
"Please, sir I pray"
"may I enter through here"
"My stomach is churning"
"an explosion is near"
I pointed the way
first door on the right
Santa went off
To relieve himself right
My wife came downstairs
She asked 'bout the knock
I said go upstairs
She'd think my tale was a crock
The bathroom door opened
Santa came out
Then he told me the tale
Of what this all was about
"All of these houses"
"with warm milk and cookies"
"get my gut growling"
"like a room full of wookies"
"Soy, two percent"
"almond and skim"
"all mixed together"
"the result is quite grim"
"It started to churn"
"and I was getting quite frantic"
"I was just coming in"
"from above the Atlantic"
"Most years it's fine"
"But, this soy...never try it"
"it should really be banned"
"not put in one's diet"
"Do you mind if I sit"
"for a while just in case"
"I've got more houses to hit"
"And it will be a race"
My wife stood quite still
In fact she'd not said a word
Imagine your toliet downstairs
Home to dear Santa's ****
I offered a drink
Something to settle him down
He said thanks, but begged off
And he gave a slight frown
"I've got to get going"
"Time stops just so long"
"Thanks for your help"
"It could have all gone so wrong"
He filled up our stockings
He called his reindeer by name
"I'll bypass the chimney
and I'll leave as I came"
I looked at my wife
We both said "oh well"
I mean when you take it all in
Just who could we tell?
So, in future please listen
take a second and think
It could end up quite bad
don't leave him soy milk to drink
Oct 29, 2017
Oct 29, 2017 at 10:20 PM UTC
There once was a man from Green Bay
Who made it a habit each day
To ****** an udder
While churning his butter,
Then go for a nap in the hay.
Oct 12, 2024
Oct 12, 2024 at 11:33 AM UTC
दिलों में बस जाए तो मोहब्बत है वो,
कभी पत्नी-धर्म तो कभी बहू का कर्तव्य निभाती है वो,
कभी बहिन तो कभी ममता की मूरत है वो,
उनके आँचल में हैं से चाँद सितारे,
कभी सहेली बन कर हर दर्द -ग़म को छुपा लेते सीने में,
सब्र की मिसाल, हर रिश्ते की ताकत है वो,
कौन कहता है कि वो कमज़ोर है।
आज भी उनके हाथ में अपने घर को चलाने की डोर होती है।
वो तो दफ्तर भी जाते हैं, और अपने घर परिवार को भी संभालते हैं।
हौंसले और हिम्मत की पहचान है वो,
अपने हौसले से तक़दीर को बदलने की ताकत रखती है वो,
वो और कोई नहीं मेरी प्यारी Neha Mam है वो
May 18, 2021
May 18, 2021 at 2:34 AM UTC
मेरी नन्ही सी गुड़िया, मेरी जान, मेरी बच्ची,
मुझे अच्छा नहीं लगता तुम्हें यूँ ही छोड़ कर ऑफिस आना,
मेरी इच्छा है कि हर पल तेरे पास और तुम्हें गोद में लिए रहूँ।
तेरी तोतली-2 बातें सुनू, तेरी छोटी -2 शरारते देखु और जो मुझे खुश रखने में तेरी छोटी -2 शरारते बहुत काम आती है।
मेरी नन्ही सी गुड़िया, मेरी जान, मेरी बच्ची,
तेरी मोहब्बत के साथ-2,
तेरे गुस्से मे भी मेरी अलग सी ख़ुशी छिपी हुई है।
जब मैं जान-बूझ कर तुम पर गुस्सा करु या
फिर रोने का नाटक करु,
मेरी बच्ची तुम मुझे देख कर भी रोना शुरू कर देती हो, तुम्हारी आँखों का नीर ऐसे बहता है
मानो गंगा और जमुना में बाढ़ आ गई हो।
वो पल भी उतना ही प्यारा है, तुम तब तक रोते-रोते मम्मा- मम्मा मम्मा बोलते रहना जब तक तुम्हें मैं अपने सीने से नहीं लगा दूं।
मेरी नन्ही सी गुड़िया, मेरी जान, मेरी बच्ची,
मैं तुम्हारी छोटी-छोटी चीजों को बहुत संभाल कर रखती हूँ। तुम्हारी वो हर निशानी,
तुम्हारे वो हर पल जिस में तुम्हारा बढ़ता हुआ बचपन को अपने फोन के कैमरे में कैद कर लेती हूँ।
ये सोच कर जब तुम बड़ी होगी तो तुम्हे बताओगी मेरी बच्ची, मेरी नन्ही सी गुड़िया,
जितना तुम मेरे लिए प्यारी हो उतनी ही तुम्हारी शरारती बहुत प्यारी है।
मुझे तुम और तुम्हारा साथ बहुत अच्छा लगता था
बस वो पल जिसमे तुम्हे छोड़ कर ऑफिस आना और पूरे दिन का तुम्हारा दरवाजे पे इंतज़ार करना,
तेरी मम्मा को अच्छा नहीं लगता था…..
मेरी नन्ही सी गुड़िया, मेरी जान, मेरी बच्ची, मुझे अच्छा नहीं लगता तुम्हें यूँ ही छोड़ कर ऑफिस आना…I love You my Doll My lifeline
May 18, 2021
May 18, 2021 at 2:33 AM UTC
I'm willing to walk a hundred more steps
Just to be with you even for a short moment
Feb 20, 2020
Feb 20, 2020 at 8:41 AM UTC
I think
I've found love from an unlikely source
I've found it from something simple
I've found it from a simple laughter
I've found it from a simple brush of our arms
I've found it from a simple good morning
I've found it from a simple curve of his lips
I think
I've found love from an unlikely source
I've found it from the way he acts
I've found it from the way he looks my eyes
I've found it from the way he hold my hands
I've found it from the way he walks slowly to match my pace
I've found it from the way he talks to me
I think
I've found love from an unlikely source
I've found it from how great of a person he is
I've found it from how he can remember the things I've said before
I've found it from how he can be strong in times of pain
I've found it from how confident he can be
I've found it from how caring and loving person he is
As cliche as it may sound
I think I've found love from an unlikely source
I've found it in his flaws and
He's a great person, he doesn't know it yet.
Dec 8, 2019
Dec 8, 2019 at 9:12 AM UTC
When I was growing up in Wisconsin, dairy farms were everywhere. It was always fun visiting my aunt and uncle's dairy farm, even though they put me to work. For many years the only bathroom they had was away from the house! I read an article today about people complaining about smells coming from dairy farms and pig farms. It reminded me when our family would drive the 3 1/2 hours to visit Grandma and Grandpa. Some farms hardly had any bad odor, but others reeked! This was especially horrible to us city kids. "Mom, what's that smell?" my sisters and I would ask every time. We asked Mom because she'd answer us. Dad would only laugh. Good times!
Midwest dairy farms
intermittent putrid stench-
fun childhood road trips
Nov 3, 2019
Nov 3, 2019 at 9:01 PM UTC
Sometimes you can erase your life
easy as tearing up old pages from a diary.
At first it might resist, but it eventually tears.
Suddenly
you’re free.
Hidden from yourself, once again
Easy as that and thrown away
discarded into the bin.
You didn’t want anyone to see it.
to see you.
And now they won’t.
Later, you may think about those pages
scenes from your life now lost
rhrown into the ******* trash
Like they didn’t matter.
You wonder what was on them.
Were they really that bad?
Did you need to throw yourself away?
But you’re gone now, only vaguely remembered years past.
Why did you do that?
Why were you so afraid,
why did you hate you so much?
Why were those thick bundles of desperately blacked-out words
so wrong and so easy to throw out?
Taken out on trash day
never to be seen again.
Maybe it was easy to throw away
but never easy to remember
Or forget.
Maybe it was hard to rip up
ro tear your memories from your head
took all your strength, your force, your everything.
But was it?
Shouldn’t it be harder to throw yourself away?
Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 5:05 PM UTC
Bread from waxed paper packet
a childhood memory of mum making tea
snow white, thick sliced
fringed with a brown crust
comfortingly heavy, ****** smelling
the butter pleases me
covered under the tub lid
with a coated paper peeled back
to reveal a thick golden slab of
churned cream easily spread, cold
straight from the fridge onto waiting
fibrous surface, allowing it to sink in
cheese in a yellow block, related to
the butter in so many ways, dairy
a long lost brother, sliced thick with
a proper knife with the pointed curved
tip, designed to ***** and pick up
each slice, placing carefully on the bed
prepared for it to rest, ready for the final
ochre coloured element, mustard, from
a glass jar using a teaspoon, to dollop
before resting a second buttered slice
on top to make a creation, a taste sensation
Jul 20, 2019
Jul 20, 2019 at 2:39 PM UTC
The calf needs to suckle milk.
The farmer wants to sell it.
The farmer has a sharp knife
and a captive bolt gun.
The calf has wobbly legs
and wide set innocent eyes.
We get the milk
and the calf gets slaughtered.
Mar 24, 2019
Mar 24, 2019 at 7:01 PM UTC
the words flow in chunks
like bad milk from a gallon
right into your cup
Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 11:28 PM UTC
#*Chocolates have tasted many
Dark bitter white
Candied and sweet
Local
And from different parts of the
World
Loved them all ,when I ate them
Yet
One, I love the most
Is Cadbury’s Dairy Milk
Unwrapping the purple-golden wrapper
The aroma sweet
Melts in the mouth always a lovely treat
Sweet memories of childhood it brings many
Of sharing the love and care*#
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 3:14 AM UTC
This is not the best haiku in the world ...
... its just a tribute.*
(to HaikuDonnajones and her Dean).
.
At the crack of dawn
me and dean go milk our cows,
pulling the udders.
Our cows milk is good
for cheese, yoghurt and butter,
very nice in tea too.
Vegetarians
are great, make good customers,
Vegans not so good.
What the hell is this
new coconut milk anyway?
Or soya butter?
I don't understand,
its not real dairy goodness,
its all fake dairy.
Our cows are organic,
no artificial cow feed,
just grass and fresh air.
After milking cows
me and dean have our breakfast
to give us energy.
I may turn Veggie,
but love my deans big sausage,
bacon, eggs fry-ups.
Our goats have kids to,
tidier than our own lot,
don't complain as much.
Me and dean are happy
with our kids, cows and our goats,
on our dairy farm.
© Pagan Paul (01/04/18)
Apr 1, 2018
Apr 1, 2018 at 8:09 AM UTC
Your teeth are the colour of off milk.
Your odour is of rancid butter.
I see you and I feel sorry for everyone that you spitter on.
I'm sorry for your loss.
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 5:26 AM UTC
The timid moon obscures itself
in shadows of intrigue.
Every night you wax,
a striptease of your soul.
The moon looks over all the stars
reflecting the light of an absent sun.
The cold night glows with wonder.
Though you are smaller than the stars,
the twinkles are minuscule in my eyes.
If you are the moon,
and the moon is made of cheese,
then why am I
cheesy so squeezy.
Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 3:59 PM UTC
Sealtest was
substantial when
hormones agreed
that faith
did declare
profane minion
if heiress
of ice
cream would
certify a
revival in
social justice
that buries
hatchet to
enhance a
ticket of
wayward soul.
Oct 10, 2017
Oct 10, 2017 at 2:54 PM UTC
The fonterrorists will go elsewhere
The big boy powers always find a small dot far away from their large splodge
To check and wreck havoc to
It’s got to be far far enough away that if you can smell the smoke,
It’s faint enough that you could mistake it for incense
Or your might twitch your nose
Turn your head and say
Is someone smoking?
It smells like someone is smoking?
When the water is more **** than water
When it is only dry, desitutte,
eroded wasted uselessness,
The fonterrorists will go elsewhere
Somewhere with more utility.
Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 9:11 PM UTC
A milk udder lure between her thigh
though her chanty where bin nigh
as day her ungulate would stack
their jugs full in this wooden shack
while shop worn gloves did amount
a shine must replete but always count
only first total inside their raw clement.
Dec 12, 2016
Dec 12, 2016 at 7:25 AM UTC