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"cakes" poems
...seeing purse dressed, flowery-folds, knows the pleasure, -heaven holds. Standing proud, -cocksure his breast, exhausted her, laugh-ter, -nothing left. Weakly submissive, exhilarated now pressed, emboldened by she, guardedly bereft... No strawberry, cakes, honey, grape, you know what's coming;
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Aug 27, 2017
Aug 27, 2017 at 8:50 PM UTC
The Woody Villain...
"Limousine Eyelash Oh, baby with your pretty face Drop a tear in my wineglass Look at those big eyes See what you mean to me Sweet cakes and milkshakes I am a delusion angel I am a fantasy parade I want you to know what I think Don’t want you to guess anymore You have no idea where I came from We have no idea where we’re going Lodged in life Like two branches in a river Flowing downstream Caught in the current I’ll carry you, you’ll carry me That’s how it could be Don’t you know me? Don’t you know me by now?"                                                                                - From 'Before Sunrise'
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May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 10:33 AM UTC
Daydream delusion
it's time for christmas baking whether you know how to or not the thing you must remember is that the oven gets quite hot it's not that i'm an imbesile or that my mind is set on slow there's things 'bout christmas baking that everyone should know turning up the temperature will not make things bake much quicker and you'll never get your baking done if you start hitting the liquor liquor helps but not that way it's for the the recipe...not you because the first drink goes down smooth it always tastes like two my icing stuck to everything it even melted on my cat the dog thought fluffy was his treat and that my friends was that metal in the microwave makes great sparks but doesn't cook in fact it's quite explosive if you take the time to look peanut butter rollups are easy and look cool but with so many kids allergic you can't sell them at the school the best way to do baking is to buy them from the store put them on a plate you own and don't say any more if people want the recipe say it's secret, you can't tell you're granny took it to her grave besides, they all do this as well take my advice on baking don't bake if you can buy because you'll never get it perfect no matter how you try.
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Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 1:37 PM UTC
christmas baking
I got cakes; On my menu, I say baby; There's nothing sweeter then you... Cake,Cake I like sweet cake She make my heart pound; At some wonderful speed rate..... I'm very energetic; So I love chocolate cake; Eat it for breakfast; Red cherry on top; That's some blossom red lips; I love rich cream, So baby Bring me a whip.... You the number one on my menu.... Cake;Cake; Chocolate Cake Olivia Brown Vanilla Cake; My spectacular lunch break; With a nice cinnemon flake Pound of cake; She a dream cake Cool me downn, with some strawberry milkshake; She's second on my menu; Cake;Cake; Vanilla Cake Supper time; more like super time; Everyday my birthday; End it off with some cream cake; I love cake; look like dream cake; Whip my cream, with semi-sweet wine; Cool me down with ice cream Cake;Cake; Cream Cake....
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Feb 29, 2016
Feb 29, 2016 at 3:10 AM UTC
Pound Cake (SlimKwAgGa Poetic Version)
Two cakes Both on my behalf Carrot cake with a twist of lemon Crunchie cheese cake Complementary flavors What a blend on the tastebuds A birthday surprise YUM YUM
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Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 12:15 AM UTC
Birthday cakes
I Like you Carrot Cake I tried to make you but I just can't bake In fact, I'm a little bit addicted Because I can't pass by you without my brain screaming EAT IT! You see, I've been offered other cakes But I've never cheated so when you're not around please don't be suspicious There's no other cakes for me You're simply too delicious I'm not a shallow kind of guy I love what's inside you But if you didn't look like carrot cake I never would have tried you I'm not being rude or nothing I'm just being honest Carrot cake I'm yours for now so please don't make me promise That I'll be yours forever...
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Feb 22, 2012
Feb 22, 2012 at 2:38 PM UTC
Carrot Cake
Christmas Eve was coming There was plenty to be done There were protocols to follow There were programs to be run Presents needed wrapping Elves had duties of their own They've been doing it for centuries They could call Christmas in by phone Reindeer games were scheduled Christmas Carols to be sung There were toys to be assembled There were bells that must be wrung Christmas Cakes...no problem For we all know there's just one It gets passed around each Christmas And that is half the fun But, back now to the reindeer games Donner wasn't there But, neither were three others It gave Santa Claus a scare He called the elven vet in Said "find out what it wrong" "If I don't have all my reindeer" "It'll ruin Rudolph's song" The vet came back directly Hoof and mouth was what he said The reindeer must  miss Christmas They were all confined to bed Santa couldn't take it Reindeer home...what would he do? He thought real hard about an answer Where would he find something that flew The vet said, "I've an answer" "But, no questions...just your trust" "I'll get your gifts delivered Santa" "I just need your magic dust" Santa said "do your best Doctor" "We can't have Christmas end like this" "Are you sure you have an answer?" "We can't give Christmas time a miss" The vet and elves went searching They formed a team like none before They went around to the animals And then they knocked on Santa's door Santa looked at what they'd brought him His reindeer gone, but here they stood A team had been assembled It made Santa sink into his hood Harnessed up before him The vet had two dogs and a bear A ****** goat, and donkey And a bald, blind cat...stood there He smiled and said "Dear Santa" "They may not look like that much now" "But, they'll get you where you need to be" "And they'll be led by a brown cow" If you hear some noises From your roof, like bleats and barks Some, meowing or some mooing And other strange sounds in the dark Remember, it's just Santa With his new team for the season Rex, Rolf, Billy, Ben, Bessie, Joe, and Mike and a bald, blind cat who's freezin' Merry Christmas to all and to all....don't look up!!
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Nov 10, 2012
Nov 10, 2012 at 8:37 PM UTC
Santa's New Team
Christmas Eve was coming There was plenty to be done There were protocols to follow There were programs to be run Presents needed wrapping Elves had duties of their own They've been doing it for centuries They could call Christmas in by phone Reindeer games were scheduled Christmas Carols to be sung There were toys to be assembled There were bells that must be wrung Christmas Cakes...no problem For we all know there's just one It gets passed around each Christmas And that is half the fun But, back now to the reindeer games Donner wasn't there But, neither were three others It gave Santa Claus a scare He called the elven vet in Said "find out what it wrong" "If I don't have all my reindeer" "It'll ruin Rudolph's song" The vet came back directly Hoof and mouth was what he said The reindeer must  miss Christmas They were all confined to bed Santa couldn't take it Reindeer home...what would he do? He thought real hard about an answer Where would he find something that flew The vet said, "I've an answer" "But, no questions...just your trust" "I'll get your gifts delivered Santa" "I just need your magic dust" Santa said "do your best Doctor" "We can't have Christmas end like this" "Are you sure you have an answer?" "We can't give Christmas time a miss" The vet and elves went searching They formed a team like none before They went around to the animals And then they knocked on Santa's door Santa looked at what they'd brought him His reindeer gone, but here they stood A team had been assembled It made Santa sink into his hood Harnessed up before him The vet had two dogs and a bear A ****** goat, and donkey And a bald, blind cat...stood there He smiled and said "Dear Santa" "They may not look like that much now" "But, they'll get you where you need to be" "And they'll be led by a brown cow" If you hear some noises From your roof, like bleats and barks Some, meowing or some mooing And other strange sounds in the dark Remember, it's just Santa With his new team for the season Rex, Rolf, Billy, Ben, Bessie, Joe, and Mike and a bald, blind cat who's freezin' Merry Christmas to all and to all....don't look up!!
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65
Thank you for the memories, The unexpected, sudden hits of nostalgia Taking me back to carefree days Of playing football after a summer rainstorm, Of laughing in woodwork class, Of my grandmother's awesome cakes. Like time travel on the cheap, You weather away the years, And the strata of cynicism and regret, Momentarily eroding my reality, Revealing the manchild at my core, Allowing him the briefest chance to once again explore. But these are unpredictable reveries, Three dimensional snatches of memories. It's time they developed some kind of smell recorder, Just like sights and sounds can be held for posterity. But such technology would not compare to my physiological wonder; Magically transforming scent into vivid memories.
0
Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 1:57 PM UTC
Ode To My Olfactory Bulb (or The Need For A Smell Recorder)
My birthday comes in a little over 2 weeks and I think when people talk about birthdays, they are secretly talking about status in blocked hours. Somewhere in that 24 hour block, a person was born, and that person was me. .....well Yay I guess. I don't like my birthday. And the reasons for that, are more complicated than you think. When I was 13, I was really into cupcake birthday cakes. I asked for one, every year, for a long time. When I turned 15 and 16, my best friend baked me cupcakes and brought them to school for me, and I shared them with my peers. You see, I considered her my best friend, and I guess that's not enough to be the best friend. It's like unrequited love if you put poisonous platonic friendship in my blood first. When I turned 17, she did baked me my last set of cupcakes, but I no longer had a best friend. So I spent my birthday mentally by myself while my family sang otherwise. And right now, I hate cupcakes, and superhero films because they remind me of her. But saying that is the weakest thing to do, since everything, reminds me of her. I will never admit I loved her, the same way she will shamelessly say she never loved me. I can't hate her, but I can't see her without hating myself. You know age, goes up, the same way sadness, goes down. Pulling you into another 24 hour block just so you can say. "Hey. I made it another day." I will admit that every day without her is another day without cupcakes, and another day without sugar is another day without happiness. And people may have asked me "How can you flip-flop between preferences like you're not the biggest homosexual in the closet." So when I tell people I'm straight, they tell me I'm not allowed to change my mind. I loved her, but she left me and took all of my friends with her. And I thought that real friends wouldn't abandon me, but there is always time to be wrong. By the time my birthday comes, I'll be crying, and she doesn't even remember what day my birthday is on. By the time I read this out loud, I will have been through this birthday, like a person walks through fire. Turning 16 is less about age, then it is about school, and turning 18, is less about the number, and more about becoming an adult. And no amount of adult can neutralize pain. I have accepted the fact that no man will ever really want to marry me. And no Christian, will ever truly want to love me. And if I am wrong, I will have to repeat this lost love forever dragging it out in my life. And if I have kids one day, do you really think... That I'm going to tell everyone if it's a boy or a girl... By making blue or pink... ...cupcakes?
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Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 4:07 AM UTC
Turning Adult
My birthday comes in a little over 2 weeks and I think when people talk about birthdays, they are secretly talking about status in blocked hours. Somewhere in that 24 hour block, a person was born, and that person was me. .....well Yay I guess. I don't like my birthday. And the reasons for that, are more complicated than you think. When I was 13, I was really into cupcake birthday cakes. I asked for one, every year, for a long time. When I turned 15 and 16, my best friend baked me cupcakes and brought them to school for me, and I shared them with my peers. You see, I considered her my best friend, and I guess that's not enough to be the best friend. It's like unrequited love if you put poisonous platonic friendship in my blood first. When I turned 17, she did baked me my last set of cupcakes, but I no longer had a best friend. So I spent my birthday mentally by myself while my family sang otherwise. And right now, I hate cupcakes, and superhero films because they remind me of her. But saying that is the weakest thing to do, since everything, reminds me of her. I will never admit I loved her, the same way she will shamelessly say she never loved me. I can't hate her, but I can't see her without hating myself. You know age, goes up, the same way sadness, goes down. Pulling you into another 24 hour block just so you can say. "Hey. I made it another day." I will admit that every day without her is another day without cupcakes, and another day without sugar is another day without happiness. And people may have asked me "How can you flip-flop between preferences like you're not the biggest homosexual in the closet." So when I tell people I'm straight, they tell me I'm not allowed to change my mind. I loved her, but she left me and took all of my friends with her. And I thought that real friends wouldn't abandon me, but there is always time to be wrong. By the time my birthday comes, I'll be crying, and she doesn't even remember what day my birthday is on. By the time I read this out loud, I will have been through this birthday, like a person walks through fire. Turning 16 is less about age, then it is about school, and turning 18, is less about the number, and more about becoming an adult. And no amount of adult can neutralize pain. I have accepted the fact that no man will ever really want to marry me. And no Christian, will ever truly want to love me. And if I am wrong, I will have to repeat this lost love forever dragging it out in my life. And if I have kids one day, do you really think... That I'm going to tell everyone if it's a boy or a girl... By making blue or pink... ...cupcakes?
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20
Beards Life is a bakery ; And men are the cakes in that bakery. In that same bakery, beards are frosting. You know what cakes without icing are called in the bakery of life? Boring.
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Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 11:56 AM UTC
Beards
They say marriage is all about compromise. If that's the case, newlyweds Kia Parsons and Billy Bunning are off to an excellent start. The UK couple had different visions when it came to their wedding cake; the bride wanted an all-white tiered cake with cascading sugar flowers. The groom, on the other hand, wanted to incorporate his love of comic book superheroes into the confection. So they met somewhere in the middle: Julia Baker of Tier by Tier cake design created the cake for the couple's August 14 wedding in Milton Keynes, England. One side is the traditional-looking cake the bride wanted. On the other side, icing curtains reveal the logos of Marvel characters Captain America, Spider-Man and Iron Man, as well as Batman from the DC Comics camp. "I loved every minute making this cake, as I knew it would be something that people would be surprised at and appeal to all the Marvel fans!" Julia told The Huffington Post. In all, she spent 40 hours on the cake. It took 12 hours to make the sugar flowers, and the cake-baking and building took about 28 hours. Needless to say, Kia and Billy were thrilled with the finished product. "Julia did such a fantastic job and we were completely overwhelmed by how brilliant it looked!" the bride told HuffPost. "From most angles of the room, the cake looked like a traditional wedding cake -- just what we had wanted. It wasn't until the cake was moved for us to cut that our guests realized there was a hidden extra. Some didn't even realize until the photos went online after the wedding!" On Tuesday, a photo of the cake began going viral when it was shared by the Life Of Dad Facebook page. "I was surprised at how popular it was and how quickly the pictures circulated on social media," Julia said. "I have plenty more ideas to work on and I am calling these 'double-take cakes.'" read more:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-perth www.marieaustralia.com/white-formal-dresses
0
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 11:16 PM UTC
This Supremely Awesome Wedding Cake Will Make You Do A Double Take
They say marriage is all about compromise. If that's the case, newlyweds Kia Parsons and Billy Bunning are off to an excellent start. The UK couple had different visions when it came to their wedding cake; the bride wanted an all-white tiered cake with cascading sugar flowers. The groom, on the other hand, wanted to incorporate his love of comic book superheroes into the confection. So they met somewhere in the middle: Julia Baker of Tier by Tier cake design created the cake for the couple's August 14 wedding in Milton Keynes, England. One side is the traditional-looking cake the bride wanted. On the other side, icing curtains reveal the logos of Marvel characters Captain America, Spider-Man and Iron Man, as well as Batman from the DC Comics camp. "I loved every minute making this cake, as I knew it would be something that people would be surprised at and appeal to all the Marvel fans!" Julia told The Huffington Post. In all, she spent 40 hours on the cake. It took 12 hours to make the sugar flowers, and the cake-baking and building took about 28 hours. Needless to say, Kia and Billy were thrilled with the finished product. "Julia did such a fantastic job and we were completely overwhelmed by how brilliant it looked!" the bride told HuffPost. "From most angles of the room, the cake looked like a traditional wedding cake -- just what we had wanted. It wasn't until the cake was moved for us to cut that our guests realized there was a hidden extra. Some didn't even realize until the photos went online after the wedding!" On Tuesday, a photo of the cake began going viral when it was shared by the Life Of Dad Facebook page. "I was surprised at how popular it was and how quickly the pictures circulated on social media," Julia said. "I have plenty more ideas to work on and I am calling these 'double-take cakes.'" read more:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-perth www.marieaustralia.com/white-formal-dresses
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11
Come and Look, Come and See, What is at the Bakery! Dazzling, Lovely, Amazing too, Something Special Just for You. Delicious Cookies, Cakes, and Pies, Tons of Delicacies Before Your Eyes. The Scent of Sugar All Around, Goodies, Donuts, and Breads Abound. Sweet Tooth Calling, "Give Me More," Starts in When You Hit the Door. Cravings Growing for the Treats, Have to Have a Load of Sweets. Absolute Bliss as You Give in, To that Tempting Sugar Sweet Sin.
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Oct 28, 2010
Oct 28, 2010 at 5:05 PM UTC
Bakery.
Our world has many distractions, Many of which I've known. But here am I in the midst of it all, writing a poem to whom I don't know. Most of all I love you, More than you could know. And someone out there, near or far, To you my love does flow. I cannot help but think of holding hands, Crazy dancing and smiling glances, Movie nights and games with friends, Writing notes of silly romances. I'll sing you songs, Some sincere, others silly but true, Cause I'm just that kind of person, You'd best be crazy with me too! I'll try and love your sports, and support your teams with cheering, I'll bring you snacks, and cuddle up, Though on the inside I may be leering!! I'll make you cookies and huge cakes, whipped beautifully with cream, Even with this I'll be so happy, I may believe myself to dream. Oh darling, the future feels so far, Maybe I should embrace today, but what good is that to me, When half this heart is out at bay? They think me strange, and very different, Just waiting for my prince, Forever thinking to my tomorrow, Based on parent's experience. I'm sorry mother, father, It does hardly seem fair, But for you I will continue on this journey, A life lived with special care. And they are out there, living today's life, And while they're grounded there I twirl, Waiting for you to find in me: A precious, beautiful pearl
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Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 7:59 AM UTC
To My Future Husband
I guess I just expected Something else It happens every year, I get excited Hopeful Giddy That maybe This year will be Different. Maybe I'll find an awesome friend Who does my nails And answers calls at two am Like Nicole did Before she moved to California Or she could be like Kayla Who would be silly with me in Drama class And use chocolate sauce for blood In our Black and White movie Before her dad died in combat And she went to bury him in Some foreign country Where cell phones Don't count Or a boyfriend like Louis That I could see a future with Sitting listening to Relient K In a college dorm With a million years to spare Before he left for London But the girl in front of me In English Pops her gum for the boy In the next desk And could poke my eye out With her fake straightened hair. The girl in my drama class Cakes on her mask and Participates in pageant after pageant And calls her anorexia A diet And I heard the rumor That the boy I thought was cute In chemistry Was caught ********* his Girlfriend Under her desk in Español Dos. I didn't think my standards were too high to meet.
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Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 10:26 PM UTC
The Replacements
I am not my age I'm more than a hoodie Stood on a street corner Hands in my pockets I am not my age I'm more than popular music Blasting in my headphones So loud you can hear I am not my age I'm more than just hormones Racing through my brain Making me unreasonable I am not my age I'm more than just indifference Not caring about school or health Not caring about anything I am not my age I'm more than just my phone Social-media crazy Hidden behind a screen I am not my age I'm more than just a stereotype Loud, brash, unruly, lazy, Phone-obsessed, violent I am not my age I have a complex personality I have inner depth I think about things that matter I am not my age I write poetry I write stories I explore people I am not my age I'm vegetarian by choice I hate to hurt anyone But I will fight for my friends I am not my age My emotions are valid But I keep them hidden For fear of being manipulative I am not my age I do not give you my respect Just because you've lived longer You have to earn it I am not my age I care about politics It is my country What happens to it matters to me I am not my age I'm struggling through exams I'm stressed but trying I'm determined to work for what I want I am not my age I'd be happy to have a job I don't loiter or lurk I'm not lazy I am not my age I'm not dangerous Seriously, I'm a **** I get scared walking down the street in the dark I am not my age I have five pets They matter to me I take care of them I am not my age I'm trying to get to school You don't indicate And I'm inconsiderate I am not my age My dad left me at two My mum bakes cakes But you didn't think about that I am not my age I suffer from depression I'm not 'moody' or 'grumpy' But you think I'm all just hormones I am not my age So don't perpetuate stereotypes You don't know me, don't pretend to And don't blame your problems on me
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Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 10:20 AM UTC
Being a Teenager
I am not my age I'm more than a hoodie Stood on a street corner Hands in my pockets I am not my age I'm more than popular music Blasting in my headphones So loud you can hear I am not my age I'm more than just hormones Racing through my brain Making me unreasonable I am not my age I'm more than just indifference Not caring about school or health Not caring about anything I am not my age I'm more than just my phone Social-media crazy Hidden behind a screen I am not my age I'm more than just a stereotype Loud, brash, unruly, lazy, Phone-obsessed, violent I am not my age I have a complex personality I have inner depth I think about things that matter I am not my age I write poetry I write stories I explore people I am not my age I'm vegetarian by choice I hate to hurt anyone But I will fight for my friends I am not my age My emotions are valid But I keep them hidden For fear of being manipulative I am not my age I do not give you my respect Just because you've lived longer You have to earn it I am not my age I care about politics It is my country What happens to it matters to me I am not my age I'm struggling through exams I'm stressed but trying I'm determined to work for what I want I am not my age I'd be happy to have a job I don't loiter or lurk I'm not lazy I am not my age I'm not dangerous Seriously, I'm a **** I get scared walking down the street in the dark I am not my age I have five pets They matter to me I take care of them I am not my age I'm trying to get to school You don't indicate And I'm inconsiderate I am not my age My dad left me at two My mum bakes cakes But you didn't think about that I am not my age I suffer from depression I'm not 'moody' or 'grumpy' But you think I'm all just hormones I am not my age So don't perpetuate stereotypes You don't know me, don't pretend to And don't blame your problems on me
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80
today's my birthday, but i don't want presents today's my birthday, but i don't want wishes today's my birthday, but i don't want to be older today's my birthday, but i don't want a party today's my birthday, but i already have everything i want they told me that my mom loved birthdays they told me she'd stay up all night baking cakes and cookies and pies they told me she planned parties months in advance they told me she loved to sing happy birthday and that she had perfect pitch too they told me she made me her famous almond dream cake for my first birthday smothered in coconut frosting with one little palm tree precariously placed on top they told me that she learned to knit just for me to make me a soft blanket adorned with the words, my little angel, cara today's my birthday, but i don't want it to be today's my birthday, but i don't want to remember my mother
0
Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 1:33 PM UTC
Today's My Birthday
Choose **** Choose a dealer. Choose your rolling papers. Choose a **** Choose mind numbingly long conversations about **** all. Choose home grown. Choose frequent holidays to amsterdam. Choose red eyes. Choose the biggets pizza ever for when the munchies kick in. Choose paranoia. Choose chilling with mates. Choose hallucinating about a giant green hedgehog following you home. Choose watching Cheech and Chong. Choose skunk. Choose super skunk. Choose hiding your stash from the police. Choose spilling ***** **** water on your carpet. Choose a fake jamaican accent. Choose space cakes. Choose your future. Choose ****
0
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 6:08 AM UTC
Choose ****
I was distracted from colors so bright By the scrumptious cakes and chocolate bars I walked through those doors, taffy past my height Where I saw sweet teas and candy cigars Bins filled with lollipops and gummy bears Colorful gum ***** and chocolate coins Chocolate dipped plums and delicious pears Oh, how very sweet! The ache in my ***** One man so strange tapped me on the shoulder “Hello,” said the man, breath scented of smoke “There is more candy out where it’s colder” I follow him out. He hands me a coke. But to my surprise, no candy outdoors. In the trunk of his car and on all fours
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Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 9:15 PM UTC
The Candy Shoppe
Did you see the dolphin with hands? They grew from fins and now he flips cakes, serving them up for dozens of fans. Did you see the dolphin with hands? His keepers were shocked when they saw the fingers, long and gray with nails on the ends. Did you see the dolphin with hands? He can juggle, he can fight, there is no one that he can’t smite. Oh, and he makes houses out of sand. Did you see the dolphin with hands? Scientists are baffled, doctors confused, because dolphins shouldn’t be able to play in hair metal bands. Did you see the dolphin with hands? His name is Finn, despite the lack of them, and he is a mutant fish who can flip pans.
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Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 1:42 PM UTC
Dolphin With Hands
Something about the woven leather Reminds me of sandals you once wore, In the garden enjoying the sun. Your shorts and that old cotton vest the one that was probably once white, but Nanny wasn't around to do your whites anymore, and so it grew greyer as your hair grew whiter. The sun's rays danced through the waves of your hair and into the garden, Filling it with light, shining down upon plastic flowers planted among coloured stones. Smells of stale cakes from bargain stalls and the sugar from flat lemonade in murky cups wafted out the back door and clashed with that overpowering cooking smell as you sat in your sun lounger and baked yourself in vegetable oil, cooking your Irish skin to a crisp! The flower patterns of your walls in the garden and cast iron patio furniture, The plastic mat that covered the carpet and always managed to trip us, The halogen heater in the parlour and blanket on your knees, The clumps of bullseye sweets in your locker and Quality Street tin of empty wrappers, The damp and stale smells of the kitchen in your care, The holy pictures and moving Jesus on the stairs, The bath marbles we loved to play with and how they'd smash upon collision, And the pink, silk quilt that enveloped your bed, They're all pieces in the mosaic that illustrates your memory now and they'll never be broken. I've glued them so tightly together it's as strong as your jaw! Your jaw, always known to make eyes water when you'd turn during a goodbye kiss on your cheek and crush our noses! Even when we tried to approach with caution! But oh what anyone of us wouldn't give to feel that again, just to say goodbye and think we'd be over to the Bluebell to see you again. So now I sit and look at the woven leather on my sandals and remember all the details, all the memories that are woven together to make you. Sometimes I wish I could click the heels together. Bluebell Bluebell Bluebell And be back in that garden, once more.
0
Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 5:41 AM UTC
Grandad Kinsella's Sandals
Something about the woven leather Reminds me of sandals you once wore, In the garden enjoying the sun. Your shorts and that old cotton vest the one that was probably once white, but Nanny wasn't around to do your whites anymore, and so it grew greyer as your hair grew whiter. The sun's rays danced through the waves of your hair and into the garden, Filling it with light, shining down upon plastic flowers planted among coloured stones. Smells of stale cakes from bargain stalls and the sugar from flat lemonade in murky cups wafted out the back door and clashed with that overpowering cooking smell as you sat in your sun lounger and baked yourself in vegetable oil, cooking your Irish skin to a crisp! The flower patterns of your walls in the garden and cast iron patio furniture, The plastic mat that covered the carpet and always managed to trip us, The halogen heater in the parlour and blanket on your knees, The clumps of bullseye sweets in your locker and Quality Street tin of empty wrappers, The damp and stale smells of the kitchen in your care, The holy pictures and moving Jesus on the stairs, The bath marbles we loved to play with and how they'd smash upon collision, And the pink, silk quilt that enveloped your bed, They're all pieces in the mosaic that illustrates your memory now and they'll never be broken. I've glued them so tightly together it's as strong as your jaw! Your jaw, always known to make eyes water when you'd turn during a goodbye kiss on your cheek and crush our noses! Even when we tried to approach with caution! But oh what anyone of us wouldn't give to feel that again, just to say goodbye and think we'd be over to the Bluebell to see you again. So now I sit and look at the woven leather on my sandals and remember all the details, all the memories that are woven together to make you. Sometimes I wish I could click the heels together. Bluebell Bluebell Bluebell And be back in that garden, once more.
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27
She’s cracking eggs. “What are those?” she asks, pointing to white and red specks in the bowl. Once I’d have told her it was shell- but she’s too old for that now so- “Where the eggs started to grow” “Into chickens?” “Yes” “Oh” she says, staring intently at a gooey mess in the palm of her hand. I finish weighing out the ingredients, wipe her clean- “Which colour icing do you want?” She’s carefully spooning cake mix into bright-striped paper cases. “Can we make angel cakes instead?” I go into the kitchen to pre-heat the oven, steal two minutes silence. Deep breath. “No. We'd be cutting up perfect little cupcakes to make the wings” Choked. I can’t tell her why I don’t do Angels in December.
0
Oct 19, 2011
Oct 19, 2011 at 3:55 PM UTC
cupcakes
I can't believe I bought them. Is this the top scoop? I've entered a raffle for pea & ham soup. I can't even eat it, I'm vegetarian you see. Won't you just change it to tomato for me? I don't mind the peas, It's the ham that's no good. They slaughter those piggies screaming, covered in blood. Eyes bulging, their throats cut. It's really not nice. There's so much more to choose from, not just cakes made of rice. Have you seen how they nugget, crispy goujons and breast? They've found faeces and gristle in a food safety test. So don't think that these people have your interests at best. Look it up, do your research and I'll give it a rest! Poetry by Kaydee.
0
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 12:28 AM UTC
Pea & Ham Soup.
This fact seemed pretty **** self-evident from just about birth on. I seemed to inconvenience my family, especially my mother. So with my multitudes of half-sisters that refused to see me as anything more than just that, half, my mother, who was exhausted and inconvenienced at the sight of me, my will and my troubled path, I was a real life Cinderella, From The Start. Since I was just there, my mother figured she might as well use me, to do her bidding. I wouldn't be home for weeks and would arrive to an empty, messy house and a two-page list of things to do. Sound familiar? Just like a fairytale, huh? So I ask, where's my fairy godmother, and my glass slipper along with the Prince Charming, to make sure it fits? And my mouse helpers, to make cakes and dresses with me? Well I might not have a fairy godmother or a glass slipper, and I'm still missing the **** mice, but I just might have found, My Prince... <3
0
Dec 8, 2011
Dec 8, 2011 at 12:36 AM UTC
Cinderella