"chives" poems
Somebody who should have been born
is gone.
Just as the earth puckered its mouth,
each bud puffing out from its knot,
I changed my shoes, and then drove south.
Up past the Blue Mountains, where
Pennsylvania humps on endlessly,
wearing, like a crayoned cat, its green hair,
its roads sunken in like a gray washboard;
where, in truth, the ground cracks evilly,
a dark socket from which the coal has poured,
Somebody who should have been born
is gone.
the grass as bristly and stout as chives,
and me wondering when the ground would break,
and me wondering how anything fragile survives;
up in Pennsylvania, I met a little man,
not Rumpelstiltskin, at all, at all...
he took the fullness that love began.
Returning north, even the sky grew thin
like a high window looking nowhere.
The road was as flat as a sheet of tin.
Somebody who should have been born
is gone.
Yes, woman, such logic will lead
to loss without death. Or say what you meant,
you coward...this baby that I bleed.
6k
Grown beneath the sun,
Holding the occasional rain drop,
Surrounded on all sides by companions.
Snip!
Cut off forever from nourishment,
Collected with a few companions,
No clue what the future will hold.
Moving swiftly through the air,
Higher than ever dreamed, but
Fearful of sky diving without a parachute.
Misted occasionally,
Attempting to maintain appearances,
Despite being starved of food.
Enduring more body-jolting aerial swoops,
Drowned in a swift waterfall,
Losing companions that did not maintain their appearance as deftly.
Chop, chop, chop!
Sliced into innumerable bits,
Wondering if life is over,
Now that one’s shape is forever lost.
Perfuming the air with a distinctive aroma,
Blending it with those already in the air,
From other small bits of greenery.
Fears realized at last:
Falling from a great height to the ground,
But falling on a soft cushion.
Smothered with white strings,
Rolled up tightly in the soft cushion,
No escape route possible.
Dying in the heat,
Spreading into the gooey whiteness,
Wondering what the point of it all was.
Eventually cooling down,
Being exposed to air once again,
And hearing (if it were only possible):
This is the best herb cheddar bread I’ve ever had!
Was the result worthy of the chives and Italian parsley’s sacrifice?
All who partook of the savoury goodness certainly believed it was!
Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 12:26 PM UTC
I don’t want to talk to angels,
Not for me, the bleeding priest.
I want my ****** doctor
So I can find some peace.
I want a ****** expert,
Not a hippie with some tea,
Charging excess for the karma,
And no money guarantee.
I can’t take ****** ginger,
It brings me out in hives,
And you can take the Echinacea
And stick it with the chives.
I want the ****** doctor,
Tired eyes and cynic smile,
Who’s seen it all before
And has my details on his file.
Pull out your cold machines,
Test me to the hilt;
Try to find what’s wrong with me,
Before I ****** wilt.
I don’t want to wait for callback,
I’m not interested in online;
It’ll only tell me that I’m dead,
Dying,
Or I’m fine.
Apr 2, 2023
Apr 2, 2023 at 4:53 AM UTC
Green peppers
Red peppers
Onions
and shallots
Get ready for some intense flavor to hit your pallets
A splash of vinegar
Salt
Chives
And garlic
Your tongue will dance for joy and actually seem to frolic
Epis
Sos Pwa
Rice
And baked chicken
The taste buds in your mouth wont know what hit them
Four hours later and I've enriched in my culture
I'm almost like a new woman
Because today I learned to cook food from my parents native nation
The time and effort was so very worth it
And now I feel a little bit more Haitian
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 12:01 PM UTC
The other marjoram and the clothes
Are chimes inverted for her story,
What if we had chives, asparagus?
And what, asparagus, if we had chives?
Why did all that rain fall
All day in the grounds
And on the bird feeders,
And through the clearing?
The neatest patrons are back,
Their statue tortured by your autumn sweater.
Then there is the storm of receipts.
The salad bowel needs sanding, but not this
Fall. Scatter the remaining marjoram like dust.
Sweet peas from melancholy gardens
Sautéed over her faux tofu.
Fruit flies like a banana.
Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 11:36 PM UTC
there were no chives, so we hunted for ferns.
they are everywhere here, we wanted something
in particular, me with my green trowel, gardening
apron.
she was coming up the lane, head down,
i waited. a steep slope.
on looking up she smiled, and chatted a while.
did you know him? she asked, told me he had
died suddenly.
she went on her way, she has moved house
you know.
we went on looking for a fern, and
found one.
sbm
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 2:44 AM UTC
The Perfect Combination
A-1 on your sirloin
Butter on your bread
Chocolate on your ice cream
Or butterscotch instead
Cream cheese on your bagels
Jelly on your toast
Maybe peanut butter
Which do you like the most
Salsa for tamales
Lemon for your fish
Onion dip for vegetables
Delicious on your dish
Pinto beans in chili
Carrots cooked in stew
Bacon on your meatloaf
Chicken cordon bleu
Chives on your potato
Sugar in your tea
Pickles on your burger
Crackers for your cheese
Garlic for your pasta
Sauce upon it too
Milk poured in your cereal
Slices of fresh fruit
Gravy on your biscuits
Sausage would be nice
Cocktail sauce for jumbo shrimp
In a bowl with ice
Syrup on your pancakes
Frosting on your cake
Cream upon your peaches
A salt and pepper shake
Caramel on your apples
Seafood and white wine
Cottage cheese upon your pears
It’s so much fun to dine
Mayo on your sandwich
Ketchup on your fries
Dressing on your salad
Whipped cream on your pies
So many combinations
That we see each day
When we’re having dinner
Breakfast, lunch or play
To enhance each other
Nothing left to waste
Flavors come together
In the name of taste
There’s one combination
The best one I can see
Not to do with eating
Because it’s you and me
So perfect now together
Like ham on top of cheese
Lettuce and tomato
Onions in your peas
Wonderful together
Sometimes sweet or ****
Soft and always tender
This love inside our hearts
Of all the perfect pairings
Only one will do
This combination built on love
Forever me and you
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 8:12 AM UTC
Maybe Apples and Peaches this year,
Strawberries for sure.
So patiently the tender buds
await to grow.
And Volunteers are peeking through,
awakened from their quiescency,
where they performed their subtle dance
neath the Winter snow.
Chives and Thyme and Lavender,
Rosemary, Parsley, and Sage.
All happy and warm and full of love.
Oh no! Where did the Oregano go?
Garlic tops and Lemon Balm,
more fragrant edible things
bring Peace to these troubled times.
For Peace, we all must sow.
anyone know this style of poetry? I am having a hard time finding it.
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 8:28 PM UTC
The landlady pounds, one door left,
And my “Momma’s” chopping chives in the kitchen;
So I wince when
My black hat’s conquered wrought wool.
Right, and right out the window, the workers break,
And my “Uncle’s” feet crack, crack come the chemical grass;
So I concentrate when
My chopsticks carve pork.
“Up,” cries the baby, starved are the mice,
And my “sister” bids farewell to her soldier;
So I grasp when
My feet twitch to understand the cold, cold concrete.
Diesel cooks, so down goes the neighbor,
And the “Missus” smiles with our son atop lap;
So I admit when
I try to smile, I really do.
Herein lies the endurance, the rice paddies ancient,
And we’d all bliss ignorant, come the table we surround;
So I reconcile when
Again, I try to smile, I really do.
Aug 19, 2015
Aug 19, 2015 at 11:28 AM UTC
I found myself a seat at the table
among greens and violated vegetable
and I’m wondering if I am able
to stay calm and sit there stable
while staring into a Buddha bowl
searching for some peas in my soul
I’m looking down so hungry
the side dish appearing so angry
like that smashed green avocado
near the pile of mashed potato
and the cut and diced main dish
beside the chopped chives
and sliced spinach Quiche
These vegetarians are not so nice
beating the egg and whipping the rice
and this fruit punch I’m drinking
by dessert, has me thinking
they’re as aggressive, and more
violent and cruel, as a carnivore
Aug 14, 2021
Aug 14, 2021 at 7:04 AM UTC
Completed Jimmy Dean Breakfast
Sang to the tune of Micheal Jackson's original song Billy Jean-1983
Verse 1
With the milk poured-bowl of cereal, hash-browns and melted cheese
I said, "got coffee grinds, sugar and cream and a cinnamon bun-
a fried egg-on your toast golden brown.
Yea a cinnamon bun-with
a fried egg-on your toast golden brown."
Said "I just added sour cream, to the bagels with Philly cheese,
These pancakes almost burned, flip em' now-with a cinnamon bun,
a fried egg-on your toast golden brown."
Pre-chorus
Someone once told me, "be careful what you do,
Syrup goes terrible with salt... (Hee-hee)
And melted butter drippin' "be it food that's on the grill
And just add chives to as well, cold pizza's
Good breakfast to!"
Chorus
Jimmy Dean, Breakfast Frill's on,
Bacon and Chorizo-just put the Griddles on,
Ya' know-the Waffles are almost done...
I just put the Griddles on,
Ya' know-the Waffles are almost done...
Verse 2
For forty danishes and for forty pies, granola on the side
Choice of sausage or oatmeal with jam? Pineapple and ham
And a fried egg-on your toast golden brown.
So next some cream of rice
Some croissants should do just fine
(Yea, real nice) Do just fine! (A-hoo!)
I asked could we have blueberry muffins (please?) lemon cakes with whipped cream
Maybe even Frittata's and strawberry's on the side, they should do just fine (Oh, oh)
With a fried egg-on your toast golden brown.
Pre-chorus
Someone once told me, "be careful what you do,
Syrup goes terrible with salt... (Hee-hee)
Whatever kind of pasta you eat
Huevos Rancheros with chili's
Beef hash and sauteed mushrooms
Even got egg omelette's too
Chorus
Jimmy Dean, Breakfast Frill's on,
Bacon and Chorizo-just put the Griddles on,
Ya' know-the Waffles are almost done...
No-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no
Jimmy Dean, Breakfast Frill's on,
Bacon and Chorizo-just put the Griddles on,
Ya' know-the Waffles are almost done...
Just put the Griddles on,
Ya' know-the Waffles are almost done...
(Break)
Woo! Woo!
Chorus
Just put the griddles on, uh
Ya' know the waffles are almost done
Jimmy Dean, Breakfast Frill's on,
Bacon and chorizo-just put the Griddles on,
Ya' know the waffles are almost done
No-no-no, no-no-no-no
Just put the griddles on,
Ya' know the waffles are almost done
(Outro)
Just put the griddles on
Waffles will soon be done
Put the griddles on
Yeah, yeah, Jimmy Dean, Breakfast Frill's on,
yeah, Jimmy Dean, Breakfast Frill's on, uh
yeah, Jimmy Dean, Breakfast Frill's on, uh
yeah, Jimmy Dean, Breakfast Frill's on, uh
Jimmy Dean, Breakfast Frill's on, uh
Jimmy Dean, Breakfast
Jul 17, 2024
Jul 17, 2024 at 8:50 AM UTC
There was a witch
In the meadow near the forest
Living in a tiny house
With walls of woods
And roof of grass
There was a witch
Dressed in black
Picking Chamomile,
Sage and Thyme,
Rosemary, and Mint and Chives
There was a witch
Dancing in the night
When the moon was high
And the stars all out
Singing a song that no one knew
And I couldn’t help to wish to be that witch
For she lived happy and simple
Sep 27, 2020
Sep 27, 2020 at 6:42 AM UTC
early, the crowd came to see
yellow, the famous arch .
laburnum.
i came to see the kitchen garden,
seeds growing, chives flowering.
humble plant sprout small mauve flowers,
bees come early.
yesterday mostly yellow and mauve then.
bodnant garden.
sbm.
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 1:29 AM UTC
You know apart from writing poetry I design gardens for other
people just as an unpaid sideline
But come and take a look in my garden.
Rough laid brick edging round the lawn and I do mean rough
you wont see a dead straight line there
Flowers, hot oranges intermingled with reds and gold
No
Plants carefully chosen for form and texture
No
Rather a jumble of wild and cultivated plants doing their
own thing
White campion, red campion intermingle with white and yellow daisies
Scarlet poppies vie for space with rosebay willow herb
Sage and thymes in profusion
Great clumps of lemon balm mixed in with chives and lavenders
Foxgloves and hollyhocks in places they shouldnt be
Wild mallows and geraniums growing where they choose
And running wild my favourites of the flower world
nasturtiums
That then is my garden, my retreat, my oasis of calm
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 4:03 PM UTC
i said it were a lovely day, i did not mean the weather.
i talk about the feeling, the mood that did not change, all day,
little tasks that please. planting chives in treacle tins, ironing pyjama pants,
and cotton handkerchiefs.
he warned me the rain would come, and when it did
heavy, we tucked in tight here, enyoyed the darker
green.
then, the rain will stop.
sbm.
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 1:10 AM UTC
we were making this by the campsite
the night before the battle of
grunwald ('groonvald'),
we were united, the tartars joined us
and brought the following recipe
for the fish we caught on the river:
preready mayonnaise,
gherkins with a bit of gherkin brine,
white vinegar and some capers...
we omitted the chives and parsley
because there were none, the day before
we slaughtered the teutons.
years later the same thing happened,
although in suburban enclosure,
and with perfectly running trains,
and all seashores tamed with foot,
and the aviation traffic,
the new adventurers had to embark
not with astronaut gear but
with their egos, crafting shipwrecks
and glaciers with their minds from
the most apparent mundanities
turned into sour spark tingles
of colours turned into tastes on the oyster's
nano tentacles in the saliva sea.
Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 11:17 AM UTC
Standing by the fridge
We could see the roses
In a flower bed
Beneath the kitchen window.
We took to tidying
The cupboard, together,
Where the contents had grown
Hard and dusty with time.
The roses were transplanted
From a London home
Finding leaving her garden sad
So carried them with her in a van.
We made pizzas for tea
Using a simple base recipe
Adding tomatoes and chives
Topped with grated cheese.
In the flower bed the three
Roses, fed, pruned and watered
Cleared of greenfly with soapy water
Flourished and bloomed in the sun.
Love Mary for her mother Grace Westbrook
Mar 13, 2018
Mar 13, 2018 at 2:40 PM UTC
Avoid your school lunches,
Not a singular crumb,
They can turn you crazy,
Stick to ******* your thumb,
Sloppy monster pizza,
Will eat you while alive,
Greasy fat saturates,
Stick to salad and chives,
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 2:36 PM UTC
And I sit reviewing my week
I dyed my linen petticoat
With cherry bark
And iron oxide.
I have five colors now.
Almost enough
For a box of crayons.
I pulled weeds
And planted garlic chives
And two kinds of gourds.
Hoed the garden
In between rains.
Baked biscuits
Twice.
Picked old Bob
A bag full of kale.
Spun some yarn.
Ground corn meal
With a big stick.
Pulled more weeds.
Started cleaning
And drying
Chicory root.
And more stuff
I can't remember.
No wonder I am
Tired.
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 8:44 PM UTC
The Packers hail from this land
a cheesy head, spicy, not bland
curdled, or sliced, or by block
the store always keeps it, in stock
On a pizza, always divine
mac and cheese, superb, and sublime
don't slight the head cheese maker
he's not a Puritan, or Quaker
Plying a trade cross the nation
the tastiness of greater creation
mooing cows providing the milk
creamy and smooth as pure silk
Melted on meat, on a bun
eaten with fries and chives, on the run
queso and chip, that's a Mexican dip
cheese, it will clog, but what fun
Nov 1, 2017
Nov 1, 2017 at 10:48 AM UTC
Sauerbraten with
Spätzle now
darling dearly
has chives
connect to
love caught
cheve in
her tie
that luge
down hill
with trigger
still fear
truth in
dire need
to flout
justice again
here today
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 7:36 AM UTC
I remember your father
kicking in my womb.
The sunshine
fell on the floor
as if it were
worshiping me.
I felt just like I was
the ****** Mary or something
being told what was what
in some Renaissance
painting by some guy whose
name I can’t even
pronounce.
“Woah there...little one! ”
I said chuckling to the kicking.
“There’s still time enough...less of the rough stuff! ”
I tried to coax it into quietness.
“Don’t be in such...a hurry...I’ll still be here! ”
I smiled to it and myself.
Then I had breakfast of coffee
& scrambled egg & chives
with a little dill & paprika sprinkled on top.
Went on making baby
for all I was worth.
The paprika would explain
the red hair!
God...when it came...it was
a difficult birth.
Felt like a peach...split apart.
Beethoven came into the room
from some passing car radio
& then floated out again
as if he were gliding around
on his own notes.
I tried to follow
where the music was going
but it got entangled
in next door’s clothes line.
A pigeon walked up & down
the window sill
trying to look as if he was
very busy but he was only
passing time
&...poo!
“Shoo! ” I scolded it
and then wondered
what a pigeon would look like
in a *****
Need a lot of changing!
I took a stray feather
from a pillow
balanced it on
my swollen belly
(God I was...huge!)
& laughed
as it got kicked off.
“That’s my girl! ”
I grinned
‘cos I was
sure I was
having a girl
but instead
I was
having your father.
Always never knew where I was
with him.
He was always his own
person
even when he hardly even
existed.
Then when he handed me you
& I realised my baby’s had a baby
I just cried
& cried
...’till I
laughed.
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 3:26 PM UTC
Candle light
Onna'
Dead horizon
Woken up by a flashlight
That ain't
Mine.
Down by the water
We watch and squeal
Wondering to ourselves
How God
Truly feels
Light-hearted and wandering
Dead ended and graduated
We are the fateful few
To young to be forever blue
Got too much time an'
Not enough money
Somebody somewhere
Can you tell me where's my honey?
She left two years ago
And a day
She took my dog and my
Favorite pair a' shoes
Oh' lord...
What on Earth am
I gonna' do?
She smelled like lavender
And chives on a Spring afternoon still
Wet from the dew
Oh lord...
What on Earth am
I
Gonna' do without you?
Desperate accents
Ain't nothing bout' us that's recent
Made up a make-believe
It crawled right up my sleeve
Out of orange juice
And done with abuse
Never did find her
That lady was born
To be free and unwillin'
Got another notch
Underneath my belt
You know...
Can't say what is for
Got another rock
In my boot
And you know what?
I sure as hell
Can't shake it
Ah **** I'm broken
Ah ****
I'm stolen
No one around me
Knows my name
And ****
Looks here I'm all outta' change
If I could only take my life
And rearrange
Too tall to
Tell
The difference
Between falling in love
Or falling
Into hate
Lots of words
Lots of
Definitions
Lots of reasons
Why we do what we do
For simple
Recognition
Last call
Last chance
A star sputters out like a broken down
Ol' 55
Out in the distance
A cold coyote howls
Every cell in me
Down under my skin
Tells me:
We gotta' begin again
We gotta' begin again
We gotta' begin again
Tailored suits
Pre-ordered wives
Diamond necklaces
All in stride
Pearl buttons
Pressed pages
Souls too damp
To wear it to tonight but,
It's alright,
Take mine.
It's alright.
The wind for some reason
Is always better
On my
Side.
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 10:34 PM UTC
It is hot
hip
for the Sun to scorch my eyeballs?
sour cream for wild chives.
Getting on with the business
putting it out there
fuelling the engine and
filling with grief,
winter comes and at the most unexpected of times,
but it's how and how it is hot and finding a spot to reflect.
I always reflect
is that hip?
Sight now unseen
though blinded
I have seen
and have been
blind.
I wonder aloud
some time and sometimes
I chill
in the heat of
the Sun.
May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 6:08 AM UTC