"breadknife" poems - Hello Poetry

A smudged grainy ring against blue lines it cuts through his handwriting like a breadknife the blue ink ripples with the water-damaged paper reassuringly human amidst the bleached whiteness

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Nov 17, 2014

Nov 17, 2014 at 11:10 PM UTC

kit-john-parish

tea stain

A smudged grainy ring against blue lines it cuts through his handwriting like a breadknife the blue ink ripples with the water-damaged paper reassuringly human amidst the bleached whiteness

4

Not One Hours Rest, Moon Still Standing Nice and Tall Stars Still Hanging on, You Ride Hazily and Lazily to The City Train Station Seeing Faces, Seeing Slouched Shoulders, Seeing Tired Eyes all around you Waiting and Thinking of Home, Observing Yet Constantly Yawning In No Time You Are Propelled Forwards and Out Through the City Limits Metal Container Rattling, No Snooze Alarm for the Rising Sun The City Dissolves into the Back of Your Eyes as You Hit A Tunnel and Enter the Suburban Void Suddenly Fantastic Splotches of Greenery Drift into Sight, Dabs of Golden Light Float Like Dandelion Spores in The Air People Move Up and Down the Carriage Schizophrenically, Fidgeting, Never Considering Sitting Still, Not Even Once Please Just Look Out the Window Outside Battered Tree Trunks Lay Lifelessly in the Middle of Wondrous Sprawling Fields Clouds Ripple Insanely Throughout the Horizon, Livestock Enjoying Themselves While They Still Can What Follows This is a Series of Dilapidated Sheds and Abandoned Roads Leading Up into the Hills so Jagged They Must Have Been Cut by a One Single Colossal Breadknife

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Feb 28, 2019

Feb 28, 2019 at 8:30 AM UTC

Hugooseyintoinfinity

Not One Hours Rest

Not One Hours Rest, Moon Still Standing Nice and Tall Stars Still Hanging on, You Ride Hazily and Lazily to The City Train Station Seeing Faces, Seeing Slouched Shoulders, Seeing Tired Eyes all around you Waiting and Thinking of Home, Observing Yet Constantly Yawning In No Time You Are Propelled Forwards and Out Through the City Limits Metal Container Rattling, No Snooze Alarm for the Rising Sun The City Dissolves into the Back of Your Eyes as You Hit A Tunnel and Enter the Suburban Void Suddenly Fantastic Splotches of Greenery Drift into Sight, Dabs of Golden Light Float Like Dandelion Spores in The Air People Move Up and Down the Carriage Schizophrenically, Fidgeting, Never Considering Sitting Still, Not Even Once Please Just Look Out the Window Outside Battered Tree Trunks Lay Lifelessly in the Middle of Wondrous Sprawling Fields Clouds Ripple Insanely Throughout the Horizon, Livestock Enjoying Themselves While They Still Can What Follows This is a Series of Dilapidated Sheds and Abandoned Roads Leading Up into the Hills so Jagged They Must Have Been Cut by a One Single Colossal Breadknife

13

Upon entering our home's front door I smell a smell so intensely pure As if upon command, my mouth begins to water My feet towards the kitchen do not hesitate nor falter I find a loaf of sweet, delicious, homemade bread This incredible smell goes instantly to my head Longing to add the taste of sweet honey butter To my slice of bread lavishly, it, do I smother The hot release of steam as I cut into the loaf Truthfully, bread is best right out of the stove My strong frame melts just like the butter Oh yes, this piece was just an appetizer My stomach growls for the next hot, dreamy slice My desire to savor another delicate portion does increase As I reach for the breadknife, I remember to say thank you and please It is said that people can smell Mother's bread upon their deathbed Yes, that heavenly taste and smell of freshly baked bread Thus today, I will savor each and every tender bite Sinking my teeth into that tender morsel, to my heart's delight Written by: Jason Cheney February 2023

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Mar 11, 2023

Mar 11, 2023 at 9:33 AM UTC

jason-cheney

The Smell of Homemade Bread

Upon entering our home's front door I smell a smell so intensely pure As if upon command, my mouth begins to water My feet towards the kitchen do not hesitate nor falter I find a loaf of sweet, delicious, homemade bread This incredible smell goes instantly to my head Longing to add the taste of sweet honey butter To my slice of bread lavishly, it, do I smother The hot release of steam as I cut into the loaf Truthfully, bread is best right out of the stove My strong frame melts just like the butter Oh yes, this piece was just an appetizer My stomach growls for the next hot, dreamy slice My desire to savor another delicate portion does increase As I reach for the breadknife, I remember to say thank you and please It is said that people can smell Mother's bread upon their deathbed Yes, that heavenly taste and smell of freshly baked bread Thus today, I will savor each and every tender bite Sinking my teeth into that tender morsel, to my heart's delight Written by: Jason Cheney February 2023

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