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#vegetable
1/28/26 Being poked with needles isn’t acupuncture. It’s all just pain in your pincushion brain. To stop the hurt I arrive at a juncture. Death or ice pick swirled in my membrane?
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Apr 17
Apr 17, 2026 at 6:38 PM UTC
An Open Ended Journal Entry
My garden grows only beetroot, They're all shaped like little hearts. All got stolen by someone cute, Outmanoeuvred all the guards. But it is fine, she can keep them, She can take all the heartbeet. Her smile is like a little gem, Just for her does my heart beat!
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Jun 28, 2025
Jun 28, 2025 at 1:34 PM UTC
Heartbeet
Sitting up On the shelf Between the cucumbers and zucchini Delicate vegetables in hues of yellow Longing to be returned to the garden. Gazing down At me, Little squash Freshly taken from a crate In the back of the refrigerated truck On a long journey from what was familiar. Far traveled, the linoleum strikingly different From the warm soil baked by the sun, Your kin next to you, safe and sprinkled With the earth. Plucked from the branch, Swept away from the flowery buds Unassumingly awaiting your same fate. Dragged through the air, Your once carefully placed existence, Groomed to perfection, Basking in the life of the warm garden, No longer holds you to it. In the market, The mist sweeps down, Reminding you of home. Reminiscent, You long of the same thunderstorms that captivate me, Feeling the earth and her tears from heaven on my skin. Absorbing, As if you were A sponge Taking in your surroundings, Holding them dear and flourishing In your environment, Only to be rung out, Waiting to take in more, Never of the same matter.
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Jun 17, 2025
Jun 17, 2025 at 10:03 AM UTC
Ode to a Yellow Squash
There once was a rosy tomato Who fell for a russet potato, And, coming together In unusual weather, They created a baby topato.
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May 18, 2025
May 18, 2025 at 1:54 PM UTC
Vegetable Love
peacock hem on a baseball pear a lettuce cries a ladle
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Nov 9, 2020
Nov 9, 2020 at 5:41 PM UTC
Holiday Wade
What is this great fruit? All of life's bounty, in this one root. The apple of the earth; From the dirt it doth birth. Bake, roast, mash, All else goes to the trash. The potato's taste is so fine, Its versatility? Just divine. ***** fries, tossed in pies, Potatoes are the best, no compromise.
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Oct 30, 2020
Oct 30, 2020 at 3:10 PM UTC
Ode a papas
shuttle loft carrot penny dent throttle kettle dive
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Dec 12, 2019
Dec 12, 2019 at 3:29 AM UTC
Tate Dance
parachute clown scout onion dive mustard Nebraska whey
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Dec 9, 2019
Dec 9, 2019 at 8:40 AM UTC
Empty Horse
They’ve taken my arms, Taken my legs, Taken my eyes, Taken my head, Taken my mind. Now I am just a vegetable. An armless, Legless, Eyeless, Headless, Mindless freak! Left to rot and decay, While I can still feel it all slipping away.
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Feb 26, 2019
Feb 26, 2019 at 5:51 PM UTC
Human Vegetable
If I am ever left to rely on a diet of medication and tv static commercials, unplug me and donate me, being a crash test cadaver is at least useful.
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Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 10:15 AM UTC
Crash Test Cadaver
Mothers garden adorned with fleshy fruit Thus I plucked and ****** at the jocund juice Branches speckled with luscious loot A taste so sweet, I propose a tantalizing truce Immortalize me with nourishing nectar Keep my belly from famished fallicies No longer a fleshy comestible collector For godly ambrosia has mended moralities
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Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 11:56 AM UTC
A Truce to Meat
as there's a potato in her frock that she cried shank a pleasantry that persisted when she'd only garner a twist that hers now exist in this open context albeit that seeds her trust
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Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 4:17 AM UTC
Omen
~ Not far below the earth, concealed within the ground, ~ lies a common vegetable, in a medium mound, ~ See this plant is seldom main, ~ and really is simply rather plain, ~ If the traditional family have friends they need to feed, ~ it very often overlooked that that stew contains a Swede ~ Normal sized veg, not very special at all, ~ this plant be dubbed the Swede, the Swede we like to call, ~ often hard and burgundy and round, ~ within our soup it is often found, ~ So if in need of savory your dish may be, ~ you must always try the Swede you see. ~ I am not trying to say the Swede is definitively the best , ~ nor do I mention it's stands out from the rest, ~ I mean the Swede ~ is within no need ~ to be more mundane or less.
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Jun 16, 2017
Jun 16, 2017 at 2:34 PM UTC
Swede
Red, dark and light, apples, They sell it for Rupees 80 a kg, Available sans the ripples, But sans bargaining not so easy. Even the grapes, delicious, They sell it for Rupees 80 a kg, Appears to be so luscious, There're many other fruits here.
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Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 9:56 AM UTC
80 Rupees A Kilo
vegetarians rock we don't derive satisfaction in skewered meat, spit kebab, meat buffet or a banquet we are told of how much we are lacking in nutrition and protein we don't mind to eat tempeh,tofu,lentils,eggs,diary or skewered vegetables we are vegetarians of family preference, religious reasons, animal rights or health issues researches found that your love takes twice more requires so much energy to digest more energy less fatigue and stress to live long without stroke, heart attack, high blood pressure or diseases of kind well I'm not cynical, eat small pieces just because we don't hear just because we don't see doesn't mean it's not there the pain these creatures we domain over feel heartless humans without hearts to feel maybe we open blind eyes maybe we turn deaf ears to them but I tell you it's there we hear and we see we are different from you we are different from the ways of the world we love it we are vegetarians and we rock!
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Oct 1, 2016
Oct 1, 2016 at 5:07 PM UTC
vegetarians rock
satisfying, slightly sweet an orange spindle shape something enjoyable to eat   very good for your health crunchy in every bite yet full of robust wealth to improve your eyesight with a hard and rough texture it's green bloomed leafy top helps balance out its flavor such a great nutrient to savor diced, grated, wild or raw shredded even sliced when fresh in any cookbook there are so may ways to prepare this delicious and enjoyable golden orange vegetable
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Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 5:09 AM UTC
Carrot
Black- soil-stained hands, Weaklings at my feet, Today we thin beets So the others grow strong. The beet is my spirit animal In food form, but Not the weak kind- I am the strong one that is good enough to eat. The beet is discrete The beet is a vicious vegetable The beet is humble, ***** Beneath most humane things The beet is ugly, absurdly Colored. I often wonder how it could be natural But the I remember Hell is natural too. I dream of beets They are at dusk and dawn In the desert monsoons, In menstrual cycles, In the blood of my enemies I want to slaughter, Then taste. When I roast and handle my beets, they are the blood on my hands I can't rinse off The black soil remains under my nails indefinitely When I’ve forgotten about the beet, The beet has not forgotten nor forgiven me I **** and **** and spit red The beet never leaves me Beet, please, never leave me.
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Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 10:45 PM UTC
Lucifer's Favored Fruit
Finger tips gained much weight, As it slumbers in stagnant pulse. Eyes no longer can blink to close the sorrow of empty solace, While caretakers play the same video for the last decade of existences. Like an empty glass of wine, Does he reflect nothing to anyone. Just a lifeless shell, They do not see him! A void without a soul, and living without a life. Don't give up on him, He is aware of people's view of the vegetation. Consciousness still lurk around the body, He is not a vegetable!
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Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 1:45 AM UTC
Betrayed by The Body, the Vegetable
PSA: this is not a good poem, this is an explosion. pacing internal dialogue echoing within my fatty brain, overweight from months of stagnant vegetation. one repetitive sentence feebly attempts to remove the attackers “go away go away go away go away” running linoleum floors squeaking as my slippered feet find their grip, praying that these feet don’t lead me to a kitchen full of knives, hungry to meet the stretch marks striping my newly obese thighs. i’d rather have scars than these purple proofs of my inadequacy the familiar hair-band meets my forearm for the first time in an age, my vegetated brain slowly recognises this pattern from once before and the skills from months of therapy begin to kick in breathe in breathe out falling wondering how on earth i will live for seven more weeks desperate to make my voice heard but stumbling into silence as my head slams the wall and bounces off the floor leaving me stuck in my own harrowing mind, one that is far too tired, lonely and ill to fight for much longer.
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Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 10:50 AM UTC
a cry for help upon deaf ears.