#ketchup - Hello Poetry

mom, dad, i beseech, mayst i receive, upon thy stop at the station of gas, salted mcdonalds, spi fingers, cen ral and pa tri toma sty ro to flow uge lemon tangos on the dewdrops of my tongue -- musky gold, the first kiss yet to unfold, without the panic (where should i put my eyes?tooquicktooslow) But completely unconditional, umami, unending glow.

0

Sep 20, 2025

Sep 20, 2025 at 11:49 AM UTC

fish-sama

ketchup

mom, dad, i beseech, mayst i receive, upon thy stop at the station of gas, salted mcdonalds, spi fingers, cen ral and pa tri toma sty ro to flow uge lemon tangos on the dewdrops of my tongue -- musky gold, the first kiss yet to unfold, without the panic (where should i put my eyes?tooquicktooslow) But completely unconditional, umami, unending glow.

11

My roommates Leong, Sophie, (Charles) and I were coming from a Yale sporting event. The sky looked like a ***** Swiffer-mop and the wind seemed to be ignoring the posted 20mph speed limit. It was a typical spring day in New Haven, overcast, 65°, with intermittent, drizzling rain. I was thinking it was a good day to be a duck. We were looking for something to gnaw on and a beverage - of the alcoholic variety. We picked up some Mike’s hard cider (featured in our refrigerator now), which proves college students really do plan for the future. It was about 4pm and the streets were puddled, slick-looking and empty. The lone passing car sounded like it was riding on a sponge. I was wearing a navy blue, short sleeve Polo dress, a matching Polo bucket hat (for the rain) and a slub knit hoodie that I ‘borrowed’ from Sunny forEVER (seriously, I ordered her a replacement from Amazon) and Roxy boat shoes. On a side street, a “party-bike” sat parked, sad and abandoned in the rain. A party-bike is a tram fitted up as a bar that slowly drives noisy drunks around. The drunks sit around a “U” shaped bar, on small, backless stools welded onto the tram. Yes, an open-air bar on wheels. I can’t help thinking that a lawyer came up with the idea, because what could go wrong? The first time I saw a “sightseeing” party-bike was on Beale Street, in Memphis Tennessee. Memphis is the Disneyland of barbeque and the blues. Every storefront for blocks is an open air blues bar, a barbeque place or souvenir shop (or all three at once). Party-bikes make sense there, because intoxication is like oxygen in Memphis. It's a party-bikes native environment. In New Haven, they seem cheap, excessive and opportunistic. As we were walking, in the distance, we heard the wail of a saxophone and a beat so clear, that the sound seemed to linger and shimmer in the air, like a cartoon neon ‘Jazz’ sign. We instantly turned that way and discovered it was coming from a place called “Three Sheets” which was having open-mic tryouts for the house band. It’s a bar that serves food and there’s a ‘beer goddess’ painted on one wall. In Georgia, we’d call it a ‘fern bar.' We found a table in the darker back, out of the way, and settled in. A waitress quickly took our orders and brought us several IPA beers. Near a platform stage, there were 6 or 8 musicians sitting around (with their instruments) waiting to take a turn forming a trio with the house drummer and bass who were laying down a constant beat. One would step in with a guitar and play for a hot minute, then a guy with the sax, another with a trumpet and yet another with a clarinet, it went on and on. They each had a solo, at some point, and it made me wonder why I don’t listen to more jazz. Our afternoon of music was something Sophie had wished for. Earlier that morning, as we were leaving the residence, she’d said, “I wish there was a concert or something going on tonight - something musical,” and boom, we get this. Still, I don’t subscribe to the idea of holy intervention. I hate it when I hear people say, “God never gives us more than we can handle.” I bristle, my head snaps in the direction of the speaker, I want to see who that ******* is. My parents and sister are doctors, and believe me, people are dying every day in situations that are more than they can handle. Heart attacks, staph infections, gunshot wounds, covid, cancer - Uggg, sorry, I got off track and boiled-over there. Anyway, we had some jazzy music and incredible Vietnamese pulled-pork sandwiches with fries and a smoky ketchup that I could have just drunk. . . *I put (Charles) in brackets because, as our driver and escort, he’s usually there in the background when we’re not in the residence. But his presence is circumscribed, because he’s not there socially. Is it rude not to include him in every narrative? I don’t know - it's a habit.

0

Apr 13, 2023

Apr 13, 2023 at 8:54 PM UTC

anaisvionet

more jazz please

My roommates Leong, Sophie, (Charles) and I were coming from a Yale sporting event. The sky looked like a ***** Swiffer-mop and the wind seemed to be ignoring the posted 20mph speed limit. It was a typical spring day in New Haven, overcast, 65°, with intermittent, drizzling rain. I was thinking it was a good day to be a duck. We were looking for something to gnaw on and a beverage - of the alcoholic variety. We picked up some Mike’s hard cider (featured in our refrigerator now), which proves college students really do plan for the future. It was about 4pm and the streets were puddled, slick-looking and empty. The lone passing car sounded like it was riding on a sponge. I was wearing a navy blue, short sleeve Polo dress, a matching Polo bucket hat (for the rain) and a slub knit hoodie that I ‘borrowed’ from Sunny forEVER (seriously, I ordered her a replacement from Amazon) and Roxy boat shoes. On a side street, a “party-bike” sat parked, sad and abandoned in the rain. A party-bike is a tram fitted up as a bar that slowly drives noisy drunks around. The drunks sit around a “U” shaped bar, on small, backless stools welded onto the tram. Yes, an open-air bar on wheels. I can’t help thinking that a lawyer came up with the idea, because what could go wrong? The first time I saw a “sightseeing” party-bike was on Beale Street, in Memphis Tennessee. Memphis is the Disneyland of barbeque and the blues. Every storefront for blocks is an open air blues bar, a barbeque place or souvenir shop (or all three at once). Party-bikes make sense there, because intoxication is like oxygen in Memphis. It's a party-bikes native environment. In New Haven, they seem cheap, excessive and opportunistic. As we were walking, in the distance, we heard the wail of a saxophone and a beat so clear, that the sound seemed to linger and shimmer in the air, like a cartoon neon ‘Jazz’ sign. We instantly turned that way and discovered it was coming from a place called “Three Sheets” which was having open-mic tryouts for the house band. It’s a bar that serves food and there’s a ‘beer goddess’ painted on one wall. In Georgia, we’d call it a ‘fern bar.' We found a table in the darker back, out of the way, and settled in. A waitress quickly took our orders and brought us several IPA beers. Near a platform stage, there were 6 or 8 musicians sitting around (with their instruments) waiting to take a turn forming a trio with the house drummer and bass who were laying down a constant beat. One would step in with a guitar and play for a hot minute, then a guy with the sax, another with a trumpet and yet another with a clarinet, it went on and on. They each had a solo, at some point, and it made me wonder why I don’t listen to more jazz. Our afternoon of music was something Sophie had wished for. Earlier that morning, as we were leaving the residence, she’d said, “I wish there was a concert or something going on tonight - something musical,” and boom, we get this. Still, I don’t subscribe to the idea of holy intervention. I hate it when I hear people say, “God never gives us more than we can handle.” I bristle, my head snaps in the direction of the speaker, I want to see who that ******* is. My parents and sister are doctors, and believe me, people are dying every day in situations that are more than they can handle. Heart attacks, staph infections, gunshot wounds, covid, cancer - Uggg, sorry, I got off track and boiled-over there. Anyway, we had some jazzy music and incredible Vietnamese pulled-pork sandwiches with fries and a smoky ketchup that I could have just drunk. . . *I put (Charles) in brackets because, as our driver and escort, he’s usually there in the background when we’re not in the residence. But his presence is circumscribed, because he’s not there socially. Is it rude not to include him in every narrative? I don’t know - it's a habit.

14

I felt you in a space that no one else can find, Expressed things that weigh beautifully upon my mind, Touched by your thoughts I can barely comprehend, I find myself exposed to a brand new kind of friend, My mind silenced by the sound of my heart beginning to beat, I felt lost and yet found while attempting to find my feet, And as you revived the parts of me I never knew, Or maybe even forgotten waiting on something true, How can I express what I've never known, Or begin in what I've never been shown? Without question the answers sought never to be found, Without words you gave me something more profound, Wonderfully written upon my heart I find them everyday, Yet still I search for the right words to say, Now I reflect in the wonder of how I could be so small, Realizing you showed me how I need not words at all, Without question... One day I opened my eyes and began to see, Your heart was beautiful enough to finally find me..... For the love of my life ... Feb. 2 2017

0

Apr 17, 2020

Apr 17, 2020 at 7:12 PM UTC

MinisterJosephKirk

Find Me... The Heart Of Mary (American Patriots) Pas_chall (ketch-up)

I felt you in a space that no one else can find, Expressed things that weigh beautifully upon my mind, Touched by your thoughts I can barely comprehend, I find myself exposed to a brand new kind of friend, My mind silenced by the sound of my heart beginning to beat, I felt lost and yet found while attempting to find my feet, And as you revived the parts of me I never knew, Or maybe even forgotten waiting on something true, How can I express what I've never known, Or begin in what I've never been shown? Without question the answers sought never to be found, Without words you gave me something more profound, Wonderfully written upon my heart I find them everyday, Yet still I search for the right words to say, Now I reflect in the wonder of how I could be so small, Realizing you showed me how I need not words at all, Without question... One day I opened my eyes and began to see, Your heart was beautiful enough to finally find me..... For the love of my life ... Feb. 2 2017

19

I never drank out of my empty vessels.. They were expendable holders. Instead I put Ketchup in them, my chips diving deeply. Every so often a chip would sink into this cup sinking slowly... Only to be found once the potato morsels had clung to every tomato..

0

Nov 10, 2017

Nov 10, 2017 at 4:35 PM UTC

poetic-t

Never Drinking Out Of Paper Cups

I never drank out of my empty vessels.. They were expendable holders. Instead I put Ketchup in them, my chips diving deeply. Every so often a chip would sink into this cup sinking slowly... Only to be found once the potato morsels had clung to every tomato..

10

I've a cache of four youth leaders In the back of my mind But it's best to keep Them in the dark. My fascination with Binder clips Just won't leave My desk. I swear, I do not Remember last summer. I also don't remember The last four sermons in my psyche. I will wear this Nose ring like a princess But I'm afraid Of panic attacks and frosted doughnuts. The water vaporizer and The narwhals Frequently run off together And go to Somalia for Christmas. I'm begging you not To remind me of the Chevy t-shirt Because I cannot get the Ketchup and pasta off my reasons.

0

Jul 8, 2016

Jul 8, 2016 at 12:02 AM UTC

be-mccomb

Ketchup and Pasta

I've a cache of four youth leaders In the back of my mind But it's best to keep Them in the dark. My fascination with Binder clips Just won't leave My desk. I swear, I do not Remember last summer. I also don't remember The last four sermons in my psyche. I will wear this Nose ring like a princess But I'm afraid Of panic attacks and frosted doughnuts. The water vaporizer and The narwhals Frequently run off together And go to Somalia for Christmas. I'm begging you not To remind me of the Chevy t-shirt Because I cannot get the Ketchup and pasta off my reasons.

24

Sleep. Sleep child, til' the light overpowers the darkness inside, where I secretly cried. I secretly tried, but no one would guess, and I never put my cards face up. It's only ketchup. Used to patch up, the cut and scratch ups, caused by the dull of my pencil, and my soul. I fell, but I dragged myself up again, back into my daily skin, and I'm that burden. That one whose not fully there, told by everyone, "you just don't care", with a random shudder scare. The words I despise you all think, even the shrink, and it drowns me to the sink. I'm that disaster, everyone's after, maniacal laughter. "Am I losing my mind?" "Is this mind really mine?" "Would dying be fine?" I'm not so refined :) I can see the things in perfect imagery, things I don't want to see, always worried everyone hates me. I can't see, I'm not me, I'm not even a somebody. Maybe inside is some other ghost, I'm the host, at my death let's just have a toast. Til' death do we part, take it as a new start, buy the roses to my grave from walmart. I didn't think I mattered anyways, sleeping through these pass-me-by days, my mind playing simon says. I always secretly try, but I am still I, and now simon says ".....goodbye."

0

Feb 15, 2014

Feb 15, 2014 at 9:32 PM UTC

deanna

Shadow Insides

Sleep. Sleep child, til' the light overpowers the darkness inside, where I secretly cried. I secretly tried, but no one would guess, and I never put my cards face up. It's only ketchup. Used to patch up, the cut and scratch ups, caused by the dull of my pencil, and my soul. I fell, but I dragged myself up again, back into my daily skin, and I'm that burden. That one whose not fully there, told by everyone, "you just don't care", with a random shudder scare. The words I despise you all think, even the shrink, and it drowns me to the sink. I'm that disaster, everyone's after, maniacal laughter. "Am I losing my mind?" "Is this mind really mine?" "Would dying be fine?" I'm not so refined :) I can see the things in perfect imagery, things I don't want to see, always worried everyone hates me. I can't see, I'm not me, I'm not even a somebody. Maybe inside is some other ghost, I'm the host, at my death let's just have a toast. Til' death do we part, take it as a new start, buy the roses to my grave from walmart. I didn't think I mattered anyways, sleeping through these pass-me-by days, my mind playing simon says. I always secretly try, but I am still I, and now simon says ".....goodbye."

48