"chilli" poems
I once had a Simple Plan
To bribe a lady for a Kiss
With a Nickleback in my hand
And an Eagle tattoo on my wrist.
I brought her to the Linkin Park
And gave her meatloaf and Bread
But it had Red Hot Chilli Peppers
So she ate the Pearl Jam instead.
My tongue was like a Rolling Stone
As I tell her my Nirvana of love
I made promises with my Pink Floyd finger
As she watched a Led Zepellin flew above.
Her Metallica heart didn’t waste time
And she rejected me within Thirty Seconds to Mars
I treated her like a Queen
But all I got were Iron Maiden scars.
It stung me like the Bee Gees
Or a Scorpion tail’s as fine
The Beatles are all crawling down my skin
When she broke this Heart of mine
Guns N Roses were the choices
That were left for me to Root
But a Cheap Trick with the latter
Ended my romantic Journey afoot.
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 8:38 AM UTC
Electric sun twirls its lava skirt.
Slammed woks.
Peanuts, chilli, limes and oil
Feeding him its lunch.
Shelter to chilli cheeks and peppercorn faces.
The air can't move its obese body to the rivers for a dip.
Darkness is hard with sturdy edges.
Curtains made of invisible beads and threads hang over the night in silence.
They spill against the concrete under rough hooves and feet
For the night falls like tight heavy lids.
Dusk is a bruised tunnel of vision.
Candlelit giants blinking rapidly.
You don't speak
For the night is never empty
The silence never lonely
Stampede of restlessness surrounding
Grinning from squint to squint
Raising embraces and chance encounters
They scream loudly to frighten the dawn.
May 25, 2018
May 25, 2018 at 2:14 AM UTC
Fragrant hot laksa
thick wriggling yellow noodles
creamy coconut
green coriander and lime
eaten with hot chilli you
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 10:39 AM UTC
He loves his soca and
His carnival.
He calypsos
Like only Dionysus could.
His power is like the
Nymph's - the Oceanid daughter that
Kept Odysseus from
Penelope - only stronger.
So mesmerising: his smile
Bursts with a contagious
Warmth, like the sun
Over his island homeland.
A gold cross hangs from a chain
Around his dark, dark neck.
The smell of his skin spices the air around him,
Making my mouth salivate.
He tastes like Mayan chocolate;
Slightly bitter and tinged with chilli.
The scars on his shoulders and back
Feel like a ripe nectarine againt my tongue.
I want to bite down and feel the juices
Run.
But.
He's a good Christian boy.
This island boy is an enigma.
Tall and willowy
Like a rapier, and
Strong and beautiful.
I wonder if this island boy
Would sheath his faith
In my worship,
For just one, cool, island night.
Jul 8, 2011
Jul 8, 2011 at 12:36 PM UTC
I'm learning to lay awake
with myself,
Peaceful and warm I
can be with me,
Caring for myself like I do my chilli plant,
Testing my own leaves for lack of nutrition,
Or love,
Cheap, clean sheets beneath my hands and calves
Light the wick.
Colin Meloy's liquid voice falls
like hail,
Excitable under my skin.
So as I watch the light move across white ceilings I can clear
and muse
and breathe.
Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 2:59 PM UTC
I promised my PATI.. a chapati for breakfast
A plain chapati I passionately learnt to make
Oh.. What an impression I will make...
A marvelous chapati and a glass of milk
I will prepare with all my heart..
A SUPERB Chapati from a BIWI to her PATI..
I am a BAHU.... an obedient BAHU...to my SASU MAA..
Ohh and she will brag ... I am the best BAHU...
The best in India if not in the world...
I am so proud... What a chapati maker I am..
A super BIWI.. an obedient BAHU...
I will make superbb.... chapati...
The whole India will dance with me...
Dance in my kitchen with me....
But my SASUR requested for a Masala Chapati
And he wanted it for lunch... today
for dinner tonight and for breakfast tomorrow..
An obedient Bahu... I am.... A super Biwi I am..
Ohhh ...I am no MASALA CHAPATI maker...
Plain chapati... plain chapati thats what i learnt...
I searched for a recipe... MASALA CHAPATi...
Butter,Chilli and coriander powder..
I cook them all together...
Cumin seeds, vegetablas and GARAM MASALA..
Ohh la la la.... here goes the chapati masala...
Oppss... when everything is set..
My SALI comes to check....
AMMI JI.... AMMI JI... she called..
My MASALA CHAPATI is about to ready...
My pati.. my sasu maa... my sasur and my Sali
We all sit together..
My cooking smells good..
When MASALA CHAPATI is served....
They all smile and look at me...
WHAT?? IS THIS MASALA CHAPATI????
And we all dance on the kitchen floor....
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 12:21 PM UTC
The American said: let's drink the words.
She was so right.
A loquacious gin & tonic
An acerbic Darwinian daiquiri on ice
A French martini disrupted not stirred
A mojito muddled in abstinence
A Belfast bomber & brimstone
Love on the Rocks with perpetual dissent
*** on the Beach with a dash of chilli & lime
***** scorpion splashed in ironic ascension
Dark *** stifled by the sting of a disturbance
Love scented petals infused with tequila worms
Salubrious shots of Sambuca
Absinthe toasted in lunacy flakes
This is my bar.
Choose your poison wisely
Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 4:34 PM UTC
Named for you alone
I call it 'Sugar Apples'
Green apple schnapps
and thimbles of a pink
pomegranate liqueur
add some **** tamarind
then sweet chilli sugar
before splashes of gin
to your taste and cry
Shaking in romance
and a lovely organic
cloudy apple juice
A pianist sings love
"*Moonlight slumbers
in your heart*..."
A rosy red jug full
to sweeten our kisses
sipped from each
carved sugar apple
through long straws
Where do I shake it
to cradle your heart
David x
Jul 18, 2010
Jul 18, 2010 at 11:51 AM UTC
Netflix
Netflix and Chill
Netflix and Chilli
Netflix and Cuddle
Netflix and that’s your pillow and not a real human being
Netflix and you’re going to be late for work
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 7:24 PM UTC
Did you know the East Indian Bottle Masala includes as many as 27 spices, or that an oil-free pickle served at their weddings is actually known as Wedding Pickle?
These and many such authentic East Indian masalas and pickles are available at East Indian Cozinha (Portuguese for kitchen), a food store started by Christina Kinny at Kolovery Village in Kalina, Santacruz. "I started East Indian Cozinha with an attempt to preserve and highlight our cuisine and culture," says the 24-year old, who has studied Masters in Social Work and currently, works with an enterprise that helps tribal farmers.
What’s in store?
Going back 500 years, the East Indian cuisine enjoys influences from Portuguese, British and Maharashtrian fare. The staples include rice, coconut, tamarind, fish and meats, with spices forming an integral part of the cuisine. For instance, Prawn Atola is a dry dish comprising prawns coated only with Vindaloo Masala featuring Kashmiri chilli, cumin and turmeric. "Most people from our community were farmers and would be out on field all day. So, the masalas and lemon would help preserve their food for a longer time," reasons Kinny.
At present, the store stocks six varieties of masala in 100g bottles (R150 onwards). These include Khuddi or Bottle Masala, Chinchoni (fish) Masala, Vindaloo Masala, Roast Rub, Kujit Masala and Tem Che Rose. She also offers Wedding Pickle, an oil-free variety prepared with raw papaya, carrots and dry dates. "All the recipes have been passed on from generations and are homemade," she informs.
However, making the masalas is no cakewalk. "It takes three days to dry spices under the sun. Then, we hand pound them and pack them tightly in bottles with wider openings," says Kinny. She recalls that in her grandmother’s time, the masalas were tightly stuffed in beer bottles. The bottles were darker, and hence, helped preserve the masala for at least a year, at room temperature.
Lugra love
East Indian Cozinha also stocks traditional 10-yard saris known as lugras. These are hand embroidered by Kinny’s mother, Carol. Previously made only from cotton with authentic gold borders, now, lugras are embroidered with sequins and threads. "She has been in the garment industry for the last 30 years. She also makes traditional accessories like kapotas (earrings), karis (hair pins), anklets, etc," informs Kinny.
read more:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses
www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses
Dec 8, 2015
Dec 8, 2015 at 1:52 AM UTC
Sugar strikes us down
You see everyone will have so many spoonfuls of sugar in
Certain foods and drinks
Like Coke and donuts and tomato and BBQ sauce
And Mountain Dew is definately not dew of the mountains it has caffeine and sugar in it
And the brain says have sugar cause it gives us energy well it is just fake energy
I used to drink a big bottle of Coke doing a poetry concert on YouTube and despite I might have felt happy if was just fake happy
I like the colours of pizza and Coke and hamburgers and loliies and other soft drinks but the colours mean nothing
I developed obesity
Because the sugar in my diet was too much
I ate a big rolly poly cake
And every Easter I like the big chocolate bunny
In 2013 I was running to burn all the sugar but I ate more sugar to build up my weight when or if I stopped running
I didn't really feel good great
At the poetry Slam sure I read my poem and was cheered off the stage but I felt very itchy and tired and yes everyone liked me and they thought I was cool but I had cracked feet and tinnea on my feet and now I have exthma on my legs I was very unhealthy
My brain was telling me I need sugar it gives me energy and Coke adds life to your day
Well that is a bunch of crap
Especially when aborigines eat healthy food can give on to sucrose and fructose but then again I did and I got obesity
I have just made a choice to start working with a personal trainer who told me to watch a show called that sugar film teaching me that sugar can really dominate your life in foods you will never think had it but junk food is bad
I could relate to one boy who wanted to get dentures after having very unhealthy teeth
But the pain of the dentist drill
Forced him to rethink his decision still wanting to have soft drink
Even the party drink in alcohol would be bad for you because they can have sugar as well and you can party with water which might be better and you can also have a berry which makes things sweeter like a lemon and a chilli and apple cider vinegar
But sugar is in that berry
You can bet your ****** oath
You see sugar is the big bad wolf of the diet world
Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 2:45 AM UTC
the church bells peeled a rhythmic ringing
tinnitus
sending us listeners racing back
into a guilty crime like daze.
the mass begins in twenty painful moments
better rush in the rustle of sunday wear
bible bolstered underarm
front pew glances at the priest
who had a back view glare at late comers.
Mama said the sins of your fathers
will visit if you
miss a mass
canned hellfire will get you
and st peter will tick mark your presence
after communion.
I listened
when I stopped
God became god
and the church bells peeled
the same way
only the new pizzas came
with canned chilli peppers!
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 1:36 AM UTC
Alcohol you little devil
My BFF
You did it again
Snook up on me from across the room and flirted,
Unrepentantly
Woooooo! I ****** love you!
Love your pints, your halves, your cocktails,
I crave your sweet wine breath on mine,
I love, love, love you!
My mind is hazy, crazy!
We dance
*** Karaoke!
The special kebab with chilli sauce.
Haha, stumbling, falling into the taxi
Then...
I wake and you are gone and your taste is all that remains,
oh and the stains
On my blouse
and I wake beside another all too familiar friend
“Hangover from hell”
He laughs at me
OH JESUS! PLEASE STOP!
My head bangs from his taunts
I need paracetamol,
Coffee, double espresso
Kickstart me , reanimate me!
I wind my way to work looking like a car wreck
Just want this day to end...
But you have me, Alcohol you devil
My BFF
Will I see you tonight?
Same time, same place?
I’ll be there
Yeay!
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 8:17 AM UTC
I first cried
where freshness itself struggled
to breathe. Outside
the Ganges,
asthmatic,
began to cower
back in fear, in
disgust, in
disease, browning
like the discarded banana peels
on the roadside below.
I first cried
in a dirt town
where kings and queens
drank to grass avenues
and swaying music in the realms
of history books.
I first cried
where those books
aged quietly
in forgotten rooms.
I first cried
where the streets bled
out crumpling homes and
cardboard stores with misspelt names,
spilling children in dust dresses
and hair matted
into rust pieces.
I first cried
where those children hung
babies on their arms
like my mother swung
her handbag, a flag
of Valentino, while stumbling on
crushed cans and dog ****
and foetid mud-water
on the way to the dentist.
And the children cried
out snot, their arms
perpetually reaching
for a rupee
from the traffic.
I first cried
where white-lit department stores
sprouted in defiant sanitation
between eczema-covered apartment blocks
in which washing lines drooped
and parking was always a problem.
I first cried
where many gods and goddesses
resided on the footpaths
decked in glitter
and cloths of rouge
as old men with
skin weathered into mottled
leather shook
beneath sheets of jute
on the roadside below
and offered tiny flames
to their gods
as morning bellowed and their coughs
grew worse.
I first cried
where stareless men burnt
their fingers
on the Chinese noodles with too much
chilli powder
they cooked and fried and cooked
for those who never saw them
but to haggle over a ten
rupee note,
on the roadside,
on every corner.
I first cried
as thread-blanketed teenage girls
with wrinkled faces
squatted amongst cows
in the middles of roads,
chanting prices, in voices
full of tar,
of the mound of peas
they were selling for that week.
I come every year.
And I'm ashamed to say
I'll never live here
but in my verses
because I can't stand the smell
of the place where I was born.
I first cried
here.
I first cried here.
Dec 19, 2015
Dec 19, 2015 at 2:55 AM UTC
Jamming jellyfish
Top-Me
((Giddy App Seahorse))
The horseradish on
my lap______
The jolly Jelly
Gefilte Fish
Little help from my friends
How we click the laptop
One dent to Deceive me
The Rock and Rolling
Stomach his smoke went
Like *** Cheese)
he leaves me
The spicy tongue map
Z-Top Zany Chilli Pepper____
your # tap dance tap
Italian top of
the cheese designer skirt
The outskirts of Naples
Her sweet dimples, please
The Islands of Sicily
So many Cheese forms
Terms of Endearment
Mama Mia Murano-Positano
Her lips of Romano Cheese
(To Top Me) Challenge me
Cheese doesn't mix
with cappuccino,
she's the Capri
Ala Denti
Cheese Wiz chair
Mediterranean Wines
Bear men doing low
sips of time
the grisly(Z) pour
The car smelled like
Flight (Top Me) Swiss air
Meet Dominique
How it went La Cirque
Anti Christ Devil Red-bed
cheese mystique
SOS to their notes
PS the junk car in
Midas the makeover
Make-up artist counter
Clinique
I could paint over your hood
Creamy mind put at ease
He's so displeased
New castle disease
Mingling social disease
She's so infectious
ZZ- Top me rock me
Eyes bloodshot you got me
And nevertheless
With twelve and V
V- Vamps tramps
and 14 karats
The French Lieutenant
Mistress Brie with heavy
bite teeth like garnets
Cher turning back time
The burlesque striptease
Come back little Sheba
Z Top Queen of Sheba
I know it's coming soon____?
All Tight claustrophobic
The tight squeeze
Him speaking
Mandarin Oranges
The British Colony
Unique Chinese languages
Her hills, San Francisco
Jack Nicholson
Comedy of China town
The American Women
Smile cheese at the Disco
The food Cantonese
style
Z muscles Hercules
Joan Rivers
Fashion Police
The Cheese of Portuguese
Its the meat market
With his nifty thrifty Neice
All Socrates
(Gromet and Cheese)
Those Brooklyn
workers
The Falcon Matese____*
More cheese Z-Top
Who could ever top
The string cheese
Silken strings became
to rest, I rest my cheese
What cheese fascinates you
Tell me?
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 9:12 AM UTC
Roses are red Violets are blue.
Nothing in this crazy world could keep me from loving you.
Roses are red Violets are blue, the sun shows this good looks, but true good looks is in you. Roses are red violets are blue, I've never met anyone as hot as you! It make me think chilli is hot and so are you!
Roses are red violets are blue, I never knew love until I found you!
Roses are red Violets are blue. My life would be HELL! If I didn’t have you in my arms.
Roses are red violets are blue, I'm the one who'll make all your dreams come true! Cause you are making all my dreams come true too!
Roses are red violets are blue, Sugar is sweet and so are you! Roses are red violets are blue, I feel so lost without you in my mind and soul! Roses are red violets are blue. Don’t cast me away cause “I love you!” But I know you will not cast me away ways. Roses are red violets are blue, These lips can't wait to kiss you again and again!
Roses are red violets are blue. I love you and finally this is so true!! Roses are red violets are blue, I'd do anything to be with you!
Roses are red violets are blue, I'd rather be spending my time with you! Roses are red violets are blue, I ain't never gonna love no-one more than you! Roses are red violets are blue, My heart is badly broken without you!
Roses are red violets are blue, I love you for everything you do!
Roses are red violets are blue, lets shear this day together, and sing and scream YAAAY!! Roses are red violets are blue. I just can’t stop keep myself from thinking of you.
AND!!
Roses are red violets are blue, I don't want no-one if I can't have you!
Roses are red violets are blue, there's only one-way to say this, but “I LOVE YOU!”
Cause Roses are red violets are blue!
AND
I will be by your side until my heart is black and blue!!
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 12:34 AM UTC
I am sorry mum
for everything,
For who I am,
For what i've done.
I am sorry mum,
For everything,
For what im not,
What I havent done.
I am sorry mum,
For staying away,
For being with friends,
For being far away.
I am sorry mum,
That I am ugly,
For what I wear,
For the state of my hair.
I am sorry mum,
That my opinions are wrong,
That I spoke without asking,
For the things that I know.
I am sorry mum,
That you think I dont care,
That I have upset the family,
That they never wanted me there.
I am sorry mum,
That you couldnt love me,
That I wasnt normal,
That other people like me.
I am sorry mum,
That I have expressed things,
That I have dropped things,
Caused a mess in your home.
I am sorry mum
That I wanted to study,
That I liked being outside,
And that I looked untidy.
I am sorry mum,
That Im an embarrassment,
Have caused so much shame,
And that I cause you pain.
I am sorry mum,
That im always a disappointment,
Showed you my photos of Africa,
I know now that I shouldnt.
I am sorry mum,
That I didnt have the right friends,
That I didnt wear enough make-up,
That I read about Science, not fame.
I am sorry mum,
For being vegetarian,
For picking out bits of meat,
In front of everyone.
I am sorry mum,
For when I didnt know what i'd done,
And you had to stand on my foot,
Or pinch me hard on my arm.
I am sorry mum,
For going walking,
For not doing house work instead,
Or finding something else to be done.
I am sorry mum,
For my work with charities,
For my love for Africa,
For feeling there so free.
I am sorry mum,
For having weird phobias,
And letting you down,
By mentioning it to others.
I am sorry mum,
That I struggle with Maths,
For being dyscalculaic,
I know this is bad.
I am sorry mum
For causing you sickness,
And for not being there,
I know it looks like I dont care.
I am sorry mum
For upsetting others,
Being the cause of all problems,
And hurting my brother.
I am sorry mum,
For my choice of work,
For the places i've been to,
For not always putting you first.
I am sorry mum,
That I made you so angry,
You had to hit me in the face,
And I made you go to bed unhappy.
I am sorry mum,
That I was quiet in school,
That Claire was my best friend,
That we were both quiet in school.
I am sorry mum,
That I chose Scotland,
For moving far away,
It cannot be forgiven.
I am sorry mum,
For my musical instruments,
I know I dont play them well,
That I gave you a headache instead.
I am sorry mum,
That I played the violin,
At my brothers wedding,
For you- ruining everything.
I am sorry mum,
That i;ve never been good enough,
That I always let you down,
I am just never good enough.
I am sorry mum,
For speaking about family,
For letting you down again,
And the family.
I am sorry mum
That I struggled so much,
You had to put chilli in my mouth,
As I couldnt do my homework.
I am sorry mum,
That I went "home"
That I let the **** happen,
That I spoiled your "name".
I am sorry mum,
That I do not love you,
I have cursed myself and tried,
But I cannot love you.
But I still hear your voice,
And it tortures me still,
And the thought of your anger,
Still gives me chills.
I am so sorry mum,
That I am a failure,
But I am no longer "Emma"...
...I am "Nomkhumbulwa"....
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 8:24 PM UTC
our fruiterer is a riddling prankster
who jumps up from every corner
and tray and stacks, with any old silly riddle
(1)
“Looking at apples, eh?”
he approaches Sandy
*“What did the apple say to the bug?
Oh – stop bugging me!”*
And he laughs at his own humor
(or lack of it)
while severe Sandy rotates
an apple in her left palm
and he ventures to the next vulnerable customer,
who is me
“How, my dear man,” he proceeds to ask
“do you fix a broken tomato?”
I shake my head, bewildered
and he unpacks his own riddle:
“Tomato paste!”
And he roars with laughter
his chilli-sharp eyes pointed
at his next customer
(2)
And off he goes with his riddles –
with his booming voice, no pause
and wrapping his answers in cracking laughs
He jumps to an old man
and he says:
*“Why, do tell me, do bananas
never feel lonely?”*
“Cos they always come in bunches”
And the young couple he regales with:
*“Why did the tomato go out with the prune?
Oh, come on…simply cos he couldn’t find a date!”*
And to an old woman he says
in near-Oedipus style:
*“What did the Dad Tomato tell his Kid Tomato?
Ketchup!”*
And as in a light musical
he turns about and whoever he finds
he unleashes his final:
*“How do you fix a cracked pumpkin?
Easy peasy – you use a pumpkin patch!”*
Ah, our fruiterer is a riddling prankster
who jumps up from every corner
and tray and stacks, with any old silly riddle
Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 7:44 AM UTC
Pumpa ..pumpa thats all i do
can you hear it .ill give you a clue
stinka ..smelly...parpety parp
that what it sounds like when i do f@#t
see the smog as i open the door
parpety parp ..pumping galore
beans and cabbage help me along
lots of ale ...trumpety trump
pukka pie or chilli kerbab ..
parpety parp...gives me a smile
pumping trumping thats all i do
wind from me **** ill give you a clue
sounds like a whale from miles away
trumper thumper.. parpety parp
sbd's are part of me aim
but a parp is a much better game
brussel ..stuffing give it me now
parpety parp ..trumpety trump
Nov 20, 2011
Nov 20, 2011 at 1:50 AM UTC
Milk rice curd and fish
brinjal chilli and gourd
not one item I would miss
not forget one word.
Mom would say write them down
so don't you leave anything
banana butter tea bread brown
a world of goods to bring.
I run on the way muttering those stuff
curd and fish fine tea
on my head they hit me rough
jumble my memory.
*The sky today is yawning blue
clouds sail like milky raft
in the wind is a drift of sweet brew
incense's misty waft!
Walk easy boy don't go so fast
aren't the birds on mystery flight
look up to see how in wind's gust
soared high in the sky the kite!
There's a crowd in charm of magic wand
a snake dancer with his wooden flute
brought bagful tricks from distant land
snakes caught from jungles remote!
On the playground is running a match
ball rolling from net to net
why not stop for some minutes' watch
keep brinjal and gourd on wait!*
The field is green trees' shade alluring
dreams come in bird wings' flap
milk rice curd now a distant thing
the boy takes a nebulous nap.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 10:59 AM UTC
F l e e i n g I m a g e s-
mindscapes framed in glass
the world looks fragile, delicately beautiful
drowsy rhythm smells like green chilli fritters
colours stand out amongst our greyness
awake-yet drifting away
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
24.10.2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Oct 23, 2012
Oct 23, 2012 at 11:41 PM UTC
Life is like a recipe
Each one lives it
With a different taste
Some might be too hot
Like green chillies
Some might be too sweet
Like gulab jamoons
Some might be too red
Like Kashmiri chilli
Some might be too sour
Like tamarind
Some might be hot n sweet
Like hot tomato ketchup
Some might be sweet n sour
Like mixed chat
Whatever flavours added
It is in our tongue
To enjoy the Recipe !!
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 11:02 AM UTC
Bevelled slick edges,
and reeaal eeaasy slopes.
Chilli dip wedges
with fresh artichokes.
Wanton loose wenches
and swivel hipped ******
Daft dawgs and dentures
and granddad - who snores.
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 1:19 PM UTC
We took everything off the shelf
opened each can to look inside our self
diced the onion until we had tears in our eyes
skinned the potato until the rough skin subsides
chopped the carrot so only sweetness remained;
rotten lost, flavor gained
turned the knobs to the highest setting
combined our ingredients to avoid forgetting
heated well and tried for taste
we added spices until the right ones were placed
you said you wanted a cinnamon girl
we grabbed it from the lazy Susan and gave it a whirl
it was just what we needed but we were too blind to see
I burned my tongue when you were feeding me
it still needed work but we never lost patience
we just kept trying; most things require maintenance
the finished product was reached after a while
you poured in cheese as I flashed a cornbread smile
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 11:20 AM UTC