#egg
Humpty Dumpty was not like other eggs
He had a face, arms and legs
All he did was sit on a wall
Was he not afraid of taking a fall?
But I guess he knew that all to well
For he had old cracks all over his shell
But there he sat without a care
Couldn't he just sit in a comfy chair?
But Humpty Dumpty however
Will not sit on the wall forever
Because there will come a time when
He can't be put back together again
Feb 23
Feb 23, 2026 at 4:48 PM UTC
egg of the eye eye of the ****
dry museum of scope
invades the view
promises that you fulfil the box
mausoleum art clock
spiritual prop to revolve and indulge
in the great pasty worship of the evolving dead
they knew it all (the pallid dead)
the young ignored their trojan pleas
and sewed them
(prematurely) into their sleeping bags
retired
their hands wedged
at their genitals
the dead took the circumcision of their
authority quietly
dry blind egg timer
automaton
wind it up and lust it draw you in
innards soothsay and you're promoted
doted gore upon the alter
diffusing your future
Feb 8
Feb 8, 2026 at 1:44 PM UTC
let me chill before i crash
rehash the blurred past
retcon all that i lacked
embrace the smooth black
let me chill before i crash
don’t drop the eggs, don’t let them crack
keep them in your nap sack
keep it with me in the back of your pretty
pretty mind, draw me out like cartoons
undress me in your room
do you love it like i do?
i love it when you touch it like you do?
i cannot ask for better than you
Feb 2
Feb 2, 2026 at 12:05 PM UTC
Scientists have just discovered
that the egg came before the chicken.
But the philosophers are claiming
that they ****** it out of their finger.
I wonder how the egg feels about it;
it must think of it a cracking joke!
And chicken? Probably is saying: 'No way!'
I bet it has ruined its day.
And me? I'm just a human being,
by the whole discourse unperplexed.
The only question I ask is
what's on my plate today:
chicken or eggs?
Dec 16, 2025
Dec 16, 2025 at 2:12 PM UTC
An egg in the tree
axil, a feather comes out --
then: a singing bird.
Sep 8, 2024
Sep 8, 2024 at 3:52 AM UTC
the shell chipped
and fell into the bowl
two yolks swirling around
one whole and deep orange
the other paling in comparison
fragile membrane pricked by ivory
bleeding into the white
i cursed
could have been
more careful.
Mar 6, 2024
Mar 6, 2024 at 9:50 PM UTC
a celestial body
lesser of age but
brighter in composition
was found to be
unexpectedly disarming
in its distorted form
unable to maintain
its expected shape
it was drawn in by
the voracious needs
of the other's gravity
a starry beckoning
that caused these
entities to draw forth
towards one another
this sharing of energies
a merger however
seemingly not unlike
those observed before
and yet something
about this pairing
steals the attention
of the experts and
the admirers alike
this rotation of one
about the other
guarding devotedly
from perils unseen
in the midst of
this stellar pirouette
there continues a chaos
pulling from all directions
both together and apart
defiant and undeniable
fluctuating with unknowns
eventually to become
Mar 7, 2024
Mar 7, 2024 at 6:45 AM UTC
so now, do I, I do,
he favors the the top of my breast ,
where the spaghetti strap leads
his eye lower, to the fulsome swelling,
curves he favors in a linear
world
these magnets of human flesh are
attributes of me, unsolicited, part
of my “collegial endowment” and
yet,
no denial,
this egg of my accent,
a fullness employable, knows well,
full employment
ah, mon oeuf d'accent,
the accent of my accidental,
for lives are just linear lines
warped occasionally, nicely.
swelling in wonderful frailty,
the curvature of the human
eyes, that draw curves of
human spirit,
^that are drawn by sprites
with wickedly humorous
insight*
Dec 6, 2023
Dec 6, 2023 at 3:55 PM UTC
I slept like a bean
in the pod of my car, in --
my cradle, my egg.
Oct 22, 2023
Oct 22, 2023 at 2:37 AM UTC
Upon the announcement of my arrival
my ancestors weaved brillant threads to make a quilt for my bed
with steadfast hands, they weaved themselves a plan
who i was to become, what kind of man
upon the days of my arrival
my ancestors fantastically wrapped me up in the quilt of blue and red
this quilt housed me for many seasons
itched me, pinched me, left me cold at night
bit me, tripped me, straggling my rights
the brillant quilt made to protect became my golden cage instead
their plan created my strife
their plan corseted my life
after years spent suffocating in the threads
i decided to break away from the plan
emerging like a little chick out of an egg
i chose to live my life today
still the foundation laid was unscathed
every trigger sent my heart into disarray
independence fortified, return to the egg
the quilt might be itchy, it might be tight
but it is easier than learning how to fly
Jul 12, 2023
Jul 12, 2023 at 1:55 PM UTC
Held like this
A cupped hand of water
held still
that not a drop
enters gravity's pull.
Held like this
The hens egg.
Rounded palms together
without allowance of pressure
that would crush the shell.
Frail possessions.
These are days she remembers beyond all vicissitudes she faced.
Not jagged. Not stewing or careless.
This untainted moment
of protection
for something that will give back.
A drop of water
becomes a cup that was
dry as a bone.
The egg becomes
a breakfast feast
weary of starvation.
Hold life like this. Prudent,
tender and earnest.
These times she keeps
for consideration.
Apr 27, 2023
Apr 27, 2023 at 1:50 PM UTC
Too tired to give
an egg a clean break,
he crunched
into his omelette,
ready for bed
Nov 28, 2022
Nov 28, 2022 at 1:57 PM UTC
a hard man doesn't need to shout
threaten or front it out
a hard man can crack an egg
without breaking the yolk
Jan 4, 2022
Jan 4, 2022 at 2:29 PM UTC
In a foreign land,
over two thousand years ago,
there lived a man,
whom the world would come to know.
Raised out of Nazareth,
his humble place of birth,
tasked with spreading words of love,
and of peace throughout the Earth.
Many were his deeds,
and so timeless and true his word,
that he changed the shape of the world,
for those who saw and heard.
He challenged the authority,
of those who then held sway,
by telling common people that through his Father,
there lay a better way.
Challenged by his word,
and fearing influence on the wane,
by deceit and lie,
they sought to take control back again.
Despite his deeds and truth,
evident in what he taught,
by deception, lies and betrayal,
he was rounded up and caught.
In a trial that found no arguement,
to undermine what he had said,
he was sentenced to crucifixion,
nailed on a cross until he was dead.
I am sure you know the rest,
of how on the third day he did rise,
and you have seen our world still battling,
against the hate and all the lies.
On this very weekend, remember,
this man from long ago I beg,
for there is much more to this remembrance,
than the chocolate in your egg.
Apr 3, 2021
Apr 3, 2021 at 1:42 AM UTC
robin’s-egg blue walls
contain two empty shells—
one lamp on, one lamp off
four eyes open
both minds closed
Jan 5, 2021
Jan 5, 2021 at 8:38 PM UTC
***
***Demons dance on wounds
But for one to rise again
One must find their peace
And to find our wings
We must find our one true selves
Live and embrace it
Emerge from the egg
Is what we want meant to be?
Time to test your wings***
***
Jan 4, 2021
Jan 4, 2021 at 8:43 AM UTC
submerged in a cascade of
cacophony, my pieces wade
like fish, into semptember's silvery net
so its plundering pull would heave them
out
from their misery, grant them purpose
in the mouths of fortunes, that gobble them
as delicacies; they wither, till my egg-fragile
heart
unravels itself, savors the warmth
of the virgo sun, and hatches
immaculately, into me.
Aug 29, 2020
Aug 29, 2020 at 4:49 PM UTC
Sing Me your Poem,
on Love Divine.
As I raise U a Toast
and Sip on some Wine.
Our Nights have been,
on Beds of Red Roses.
With rooms that are filled,
with Fragrance of Posies.
Midnight Romance begins,
as We draw the Curtain.
When We are done,
Our Happiness is quite Certain.
Nights without Passion,
are simply Boring.
As I fall off to sleep,
in an Hour I'm Snoring.
Jul 1, 2020
Jul 1, 2020 at 11:13 AM UTC
what would force a wise septuagenarian to imagine himself
President of the USA?
Could it be
A ghost of war's glory days in the
grand old industrious gay nineties
days of smokestack landmarks of civic pride,
as seen by stevedores loading dry buffalo hides,... nay,
I trow not... war as imagined in a wise septuagenarian,
has no glory, but value, in depleting the other
side, and
rubbing away the bank on that distant shore, make it
seem so much further away...
what would force a wise septuagenarian to imagine himself
herself President of the USA?
see who salutes, nobody salutes
but military minds, tie-wearers.
nope, nothing comes to mind as reasonable,
save
pride
a broken-spirited, old-mind-bound hero-sell-out,
in my opinion,
with a plan to scuttle spaceship earth.
Okeh. We stop that. What next? It gets better.
May 10, 2020
May 10, 2020 at 2:54 PM UTC
“Emotionally Impregnated”
was the phrase that came to mind
when I tried to make sense
of what had happened to me
half way through listening to
the song he had sent
“You know you gave me all the time
Oh, did I give enough of mine?”
It was the unchangeable joining
of thought and feeling that produced
within me a growing emotional experience
that no more asked permission to be
than did any other seed and egg.
“Say you don’t know me anymore
But that’s a bullet on your floor”
I have never been a reliable narrator though
how many negative tests have I produced
even amid ******* that imagined they were swollen
nausea that persisted for days
and blood that stained sheets much later than expected?
Had I just spent the last two years
in an elaborate emotional pregnancy scare?
Had the joining of lyrics
of hungry bodies
of insatiable hearts
produced within me an embryo of empty hope?
Have I sabotaged my own lifeblood
in a desire to force from my womb
some monstrous and malformed product
of what had been lifegiving friendship?
Apr 14, 2020
Apr 14, 2020 at 7:45 PM UTC