"brulee" poems
amidst Jeffersonian opulence
the Prez broke bread with his
GOP poker face friends
to solve government gridlock
and sequester predicament trends
citizens of the republic
hopeful for nonsense to cease
sat at the table asking
“would you pass
the biscuits please?”
Obama perused the wine list
boldly choosing a luscious Merlot
senators ordered the finest hors d'oeuvres
the guests were all aglow
numerous delectable dishes
were liberally splayed on the table
revelers sipped flowing vintages
wine a surefire icebreaker
sparkling crystal Lennox flutes
tinkled with convivial release
while America’s disenfranchised
voices ask
“would you pass
the biscuits please?”
chutney meat, curried hens and
sweet walnut rainbow trout
the table a horn a plenty
the guests gorged on fine cuisine
a blessed nations bounty
the feast consumed
the Senators sated
said it was some
of the finest ever served
but the taxpayers only
got a peak of the banquet
a whiff of senators nerve
and asked
“would you pass
the biscuits please?”
the dessert cart was rolled in
with custards, cakes, creme brulee
cordials, cognac and VSOP tastes
rounded out the wholesome feast
when the check was presented
for payment all guests headed
for the door with haste
they told the waiter the bill of fare
was covered
by the guy asking...
“would you pass
the biscuits please?”
Music Selection:
Andre Williams:
Pass The Biscuits Please
jbm
Oakland
3/7/13
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 6:14 PM UTC
We had a sweetened creme brulee
but carrots got tossed in
and carrots don't rhyme with anything
It was good for a while
interesting and intriguing
But I can't finish this cup
of weird creme brulee
but the taste was worth
the seven bucks I paid
Feb 18, 2012
Feb 18, 2012 at 1:52 AM UTC
Coffee
Heath
Bar
Crunch
Will sabotage those taste buds,
Like Dublin and its Mudslides.
So blast off with that,
Fossil Fuel,
And don’t let me
Catch you.
‘Cause I’ll keep you,
My Maple Blondie.
I’ll capture you,
And hold onto,
Those Cinnamon Buns.
You’re the Crème Brulee,
Of Chocolate Macadamia,
And the Cherry Garcia,
In my every breath.
You’re the Chunky Monkey,
To this Chubby Hubby;
The Dulce Delish,
for this Americone Dream.
Can’t you see I’ve just got,
A sweet tooth for you,
And your Phish Food?
Your Chocolate hair,
Key Lime Pie eyes,
Strawberry Cheesecake lips,
And your skin is a delight,
Much like Vanilla Caramel Fudge.
Did Ben and Jerry create you?
Please tell me they did!
So I can eat you,
With my cup of Boston Cream Pie,
And I’d eat you all up, Well,
Everything but the…
Half Baked, Karmel Sutra,
Which I’d lick,
Like a cone of Cake Batter,
And then dip into,
Like Cookies and Milk.
Imagine Whirled Peace,
On top of this Mudpie,
And then Split,
Like a Banana.
That’s the kind of Brownie Batter,
I’d stir with you,
And then add a scoop,
Or two,
Of Turtle Soup.
And you would yell,
PISTACHIO PISTACHIO!
Where for art thou pistachio?
And with a bowl of Peach Cobbler,
And a spoon of Vanilla,
I’d look at you,
wink,
and offer you a pint,
of my Mint Chocolate Chunk.
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 1:42 AM UTC
Crème brulee, a careless mind,
singeing, burning albeit caramelized
like a politician never normalized,
crawfish should never be apologetic
there's an avaricious food chain
in there somewhere,
gun shot without hardly knowing
right from wrong
conceal that powder trail
dig down to Bayou.
Dec 15, 2012
Dec 15, 2012 at 12:34 PM UTC
my world has many colors like the prism;
the blue hues of glistening waters of greece
against the white stucco adobes.
dancing tap shoes of flamencos
while visiting in spain.
autumn hues of russian reds, gold, cobalt, greens, oranges and black co-mingling.
asian tastes of polynesian spices in the philippines.
safaris in africa witnessing the awesomeness
of massive mammals.
sophistication from the streets of champ elysees, sipping cappuccino
and i will have some creme brulee please.
or perhaps go to italy and sit on the spanish steps
with a cup of expresso. i will take along a cannoli
and count the steps.
while back at home reminiscing over a cup of joe
with a friend in tucson arizona.
after exchanging our love for art
i will read my mail from friends afar;
the outback to talk about the love
pocketed in the kangaroo’s pouch and discover
new zealand, the unfamiliar territory.
we share our secrets who have been there.
reading beautiful poetry like never before.
all the while being reminded
i have been blessed by the HOLY ONE.
you see my friends, my world has forever changed
since i have met all of you.
getting up each day having my coffee
welcoming me to another day with my friends
from the east, west, north and south.
upon dusk we say so long, see you soon.~~by lorilynn
copyright*lorilynn 2010
Sep 17, 2010
Sep 17, 2010 at 8:28 PM UTC
At the East End Cafe
a Canadian folksinger
strums up a storm
on a guitar-
a bargain guitar-
he got $1000 off the price of it
We don’t know any of his songs
Locals tap their feet
to his rhythms
talk to people
they talk to every day
but louder tonight
fuelled by beer and wine
and a determined bonhomie
Ange and her girls
cook up a storm
behind the counter
serve us steaks
and real pizzas
and creme brulee
Late night kids
stroll outside
peer in - curious-
at the unaccustomed goings on
Beyond the plateglass windows
the inside lights
orange globes
reflect in the darkness
like floating pumpkins
I know the river lies out there
just moving on down to the sea
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 9:47 AM UTC
I want to take you to the city
and put your name in lights
after spending the day seeing
all the touristy sights
I'll take you to a restaurant
We'll have the finest meal
music will be playing
you'd pick lobster over veal
I'd smile across the table
watching you decide
on cake instead of creme brulee
and of course instead of pie
there'd be women all around us
beauty of all sorts
and still my eyes stay on you
for no other can compare
none has your intense gaze
your lovely sea blue eyes
no lips can match your lusciousness
to me you rise above
We'd leave the restaurant
I'd see it in your eyes
disappointment for you thought it then
I'd saved the real surprise
We'd travel to a busy street
and walking hand in hand
I'd stop and kneel before you
look into your eyes
the lights would flash on behind me
The message beaming bright
I'd read to you a poem
trying to sum up in mere words
the reasons why I love you
and want you in my life
I'd ask you the question
If you would be my wife
I'd take you to the city
together we'd see the sights
we'd have a picnic in a park
we'd find a tree casting shade
and stare into the sky gazing at the clouds
and watch families stroll by
our hands clasped tight together
we'd speak our dreams aloud
the family that'd be ours someday
of a life well lived, the love we'd give
as night fell on the city, day fades away
we'd find a restaurant to eat a meal
and talk about our day
I'd feel the box in my pocket and wait
the moment would be right
I'd thought and planned and knew
tonight would be our night
you ate the cake, instead of pie
I watched you with a smile
the world around us faded out
reaching out to caress your face
to feel your so soft skin
the words I had prepared
seemed so very thin
we paid and leave into the night
the stars shining high above
I take your hand in mine
and we slowly walk
returning to where our day had begun
the lights are out, the park is dark
and then we see the glow, an island of light
we reach the center, there's a fountain
surrounded by a sea of candles
the water burbles happily
I kneel before you in this man made sea
the light it dances on your skin and I know
where to begin, with the love that I feel
and how your love has helped me heal
how I know my life is with you
and with a question I stake it all
be my love, my wife, my all
Sep 25, 2010
Sep 25, 2010 at 10:18 AM UTC
i.
A king and queen
Of faraway;
Tis ourn story
Ourn unique Creme Brulee.
ii.
We shalt not repose
Inside ourn grave's;
We'll be exposed
In united sage.
iii.
No sadness here
Or fist's of rage;
Man shalt not enter
Past ourn lover's gate.
iv.
This is ourn stay
A manner estate;
With her tawny skin
Upon mine body's plate.
v.
We shalt be early
As there's no time;
No time for late
This is ourn party, life and love, everlasting place.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry ( Hari-reyna incorporated)
©Earl Jane nagley ( Filipino rose) dedication
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 10:36 PM UTC
The day I turned thirteen was the day all innocence in me was lost.
The day I turned thirteen was the day something in me changed;
The day I turned thirteen was the day I became "deranged"...
They point their fingers and look at us with:
Hatred and Malice in their eyes,
Upon us all they suspect foul play-
But what they don't realise is if they mess with one they get the full creme brulee.
We're different, we're aliens on this strange planet Earth.
But that's no justification for:
Neglection, Cruelty and Abuse;
It's no wonder some of us start tying our own noose...
You think that you know us, but you haven't seen it all,
Not the good times, the bad times, the party - or the brawl.
It's a tragedy to think that on the 13th birthday of any young teens life,
He 's marked forever with the
Badge of Shame;
And is then until death the subject of blame.
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 1:42 PM UTC
Rainy days n broken sighs
Sweet deceit
Lace my dreams
Bird of prey
State of rare
Anticipation
Fills my day
Creme brulee
My Barrett
You stole
Black n blue
In a loom
Spiral wave
On a rage
You swore
Your embrace
My solace
Tight assuage
We move
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 2:22 PM UTC
It's not the same
Your dress looks beautiful
the weather is fantastic
this restaurant you picked
amazing
the waiter
delightful
It's not the same
What did Gina tell you?
That her bladder is so small that she has to ***
every time she washes her hands?
that's hilarious
how inconvenient
It's not the same
Pass the salt
no the other salt
haha
I know that's pepper
what a cute smile you have when you're playing a joke
It's not the same
Always the jokester
never serious
It's not the same
Did you smile like that when you let him touch you it's not the same
What a beautiful dress you have
can I try some of your pasta
wow
delicious
you know I heard it was supposed to storm out in--
It's not the same
I think I'm going to use the restroom
*** even though you don't even have to
Now that I am washing my hands I do
I'm no better than ******* Gina
Don't punch the wall
It's not the same
You forgave her
she apologized
she had to apologize
punch the wall
It's not the same
Finish washing your hands
Compose yourself
You love her
and she loves you
she always did
she made a mistake
we all make mistakes
It's not the same
not like that
we don't all do that
THAT
is not normal
Hi
Honey yes, they do have towels in the bathroom
no I didn't know they used to make creme brulee here
why did they stop?
wow amazing
why did you stop?
It's not the same
I look tired?
Works been crazy
good lie
you're worrying
she doesn't know
or care
It's not the same
You forgave her
That doesn't mean I have to
because I know
as well as you do
as much as you try to fight it
It's not the same
Jun 7, 2016
Jun 7, 2016 at 2:38 AM UTC
he’s resting his head on my shoulder and I don’t know how to ******* breathe. this motion said so much, I think. cause yeah, I had rested my head on his shoulder hundreds of times and I had burrowed my head into his neck and sat on his lap and slept on his chest. but in this taxi, going down and down 43rd, 42nd, 41st it was different. his eyes were tired. the lights outside illuminated the right side of his face and reminded me that there was a world that existed outside of the backseat of this taxi cab. it felt like time had froze just for the two of us, like no human interaction had ever been as significant as this and the taxi driver, the people on the sidewalks outside, the city of new york, the entire universe had to stop to see this. he was fading in and out of a minute sleep and we equally reeked of the 6 train and pistachio brulee and I was so tired and so dazed that in that moment I told myself that I loved him. no doubt. I didn’t even have to think about it. the love was this low hum that always followed you everywhere. it was the kind that sometimes got annoying and left you wondering where the hell it even came from. but it was also the kind that lulled you to sleep at night and when it needed to, it picked and prodded at you to remind you it was still there. -sk
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 2:46 PM UTC
It's not the same
Your dress looks beautiful
the weather is fantastic
this restaurant you picked
amazing
the waiter
delightful
It's not the same
What did Gina tell you?
That her bladder is so small that she has to ***
every time she washes her hands?
that's hilarious
how inconvenient
It's not the same
Pass the salt
no the other salt
haha
I know that's pepper
what a cute smile you have when you're playing a joke
It's not the same
Always the jokester
never serious
It's not the same
Did you smile like that when you let him touch you it's not the same
What a beautiful dress you have
can I try some of your pasta
wow
delicious
you know I heard it was supposed to storm out in--
It's not the same
I think I'm going to use the restroom
*** even though you don't even have to
Now that I am washing my hands I do
I'm no better than ******* Gina
Don't punch the wall
It's not the same
You forgave her
she apologized
she had to apologize
punch the wall
It's not the same
Finish washing your hands
Compose yourself
You love her
and she loves you
she always did
she made a mistake
we all make mistakes
It's not the same
not like that
we don't all do that
THAT
is not normal
Hi
Honey yes, they do have towels in the bathroom
no I didn't know they used to make creme brulee here
why did they stop?
wow amazing
why did you stop?
It's not the same
I look tired?
Works been crazy
good lie
you're worrying
she doesn't know
or care
It's not the same
You forgave her
That doesn't mean I have to
because I know
as well as you do
as much as you try to fight it
It's not the same
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 9:14 PM UTC
It's not the same
Your dress looks beautiful
the weather is fantastic
this restaurant you picked
amazing
the waiter
delightful
It's not the same
What did Gina tell you?
That her bladder is so small that she has to ***
every time she washes her hands?
that's hilarious
how inconvenient
It's not the same
Pass the salt
no the other salt
haha
I know that's pepper
what a cute smile you have when you're playing a joke
It's not the same
Always the jokester
never serious
It's not the same
Did you smile like that when you let him touch you it's not the same
What a beautiful dress you have
can I try some of your pasta
wow
delicious
you know I heard it was supposed to storm out in--
It's not the same
I think I'm going to use the restroom
*** even though you don't even have to
Now that I am washing my hands I do
I'm no better than ******* Gina
Don't punch the wall
It's not the same
You forgave her
she apologized
she had to apologize
punch the wall
It's not the same
Finish washing your hands
Compose yourself
You love her
and she loves you
she always did
she made a mistake
we all make mistakes
It's not the same
not like that
we don't all do that
THAT
is not normal
Hi
Honey yes, they do have towels in the bathroom
no I didn't know they used to make creme brulee here
why did they stop?
wow amazing
why did you stop?
It's not the same
I look tired?
Works been crazy
good lie
you're worrying
she doesn't know
or care
It's not the same
You forgave her
That doesn't mean I have to
because I know
as well as you do
as much as you try to fight it
It's not the same
Jan 4, 2018
Jan 4, 2018 at 6:37 PM UTC
Skimming the surface of your sweetness
Creamy rich creme brulee
with a je ne said quois kick
Skin of sprinkled seasonings
Looks like art
In all sensory scintillation
Delicate dashes
Deliberate divinity finds
A splash of savior savory
Boil up smiles
Bubble over in rounds
Popping sizzle
Of a new recipe spark
Invite chance to the table
And me without manners
Fumbled elbows atop a table
Unrefined as an innocent palette
Fear finds fruitful fools as I
Always want another taste
Insatiable sensations
Shake me
Never the same
A want to swish you in my mouth
So you know my words stir smoother sound space
Than my mind lets on
Imagine a ticking timer
For me or you
Cant just swelter in the smell
Saliva sweat on hot stovetop
Tease your texture between teeth
I find gritted in a past
Of al dente pasta
Not quite my liking
But always filling
How hard to be full
Of a hearth of health
When i've been so long
Waited on by baited service
Couldn't help but take a bite
I got hooked
Reeled in line to choke on breathing
Luck lifeline
To see release
Catch a nibble
Insist I taste
Your full flavor
Ever evolving buds
Dissolve new resolve
From tongue
Of trepidation
Swirled in soufflee one day
Tiramisu on through
To courses I never knew
In glistening garnishes
Playful plating
Dining halls of hope
Glazed eyes
Fancy this feast
Mixed anew
Set you a place
Its fit for two
Dec 5, 2017
Dec 5, 2017 at 8:12 AM UTC
Thrown in a mortar again,
And grounded down,
Into the purest form I've ever been,
My shell is but a thing of the past,
But give it time,
I'll build it all back up,
And while some have seen the worst of me,
They'll see what I think I'd ought to be,
An idealized construct,
Be it paper or glass,
Or the sugar on a creme brulee,
You crack the sweet,
And you get to the cream at last.
Depending on your tastes,
You may like what you get,
But it isn't likely,
It's best you just forgive,
And forget.
Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 2:27 PM UTC
Your rickshaw riptide truths felt real and dangerous. Cracked my fragile creme brulee mind.
And oh how you enjoyed your sweets.
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 10:27 PM UTC