"desserts" poems
My eyes are too big
I am one with the desserts
Now I must digest
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 3:58 PM UTC
Melancholy streets
fill my mind,
deranged moments
are easy to find.
On the corner
of hate and desire,
faith desserts me,
I am on the wire.
Bequeath my soul,
spread my wings.
Extinguish the fires,
finally I am free.
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 2:06 PM UTC
I may not be perfect, but at least I know who I am.
I may not be a fighter, but I know how to walk alone in dreary desserts.
I may not have wings to fly, but my dreams have.
I may not control my tears, but at least it’s not fake.
I may not be the richest girl, but guess what? Who cares!
I may not write the best, but my words are true.
I may not be loved, but I am in love.
I may not express myself, but my eyes don’t lie.
I may not be perfect, but it’s just me.
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 3:01 AM UTC
I remember Sunday dinner
that granny used to make
enough to feed an army
piled on each and every plate
three kinds of potatoes
boiled, mashed and roast
Chicken, pork & roast beef
and a glass of wine to toast
and veggies from her garden
that grew right there herself
no canned corn from Guatemala
would you find upon her shelf
there'd be carrots, peas and parnips
brocolli & cabbage too
and anything that wasn't ate
ended up in her famous stew
but desserts, they were the best bit
there was custard, pies and tarts
an the only bad thing 'bout it all
was knowing where to start
May 20, 2010
May 20, 2010 at 7:26 PM UTC
vintage polaroids
mountain air
girl scout cookies
summer hair
ed sheeran lyrics
mint lemonade
blowing bubbles
christmas parade
harry potter
winter park crew
biscoff spread
morning dew
british accents
plaid shirts
old castles
chocolate desserts
breakfast for dinner
big bang theory quotes
shakespearean language
cape cod sailboats
sweet nostalgia
the smell of books
longing wanderlust
forest nook
80s movies
neon lights
time with friends
caramel delights
the great gatsby
walk the moon
old typewriters
plumerias bloom
bombay bicycle club
chinese cuisine
abstract art
seafoam green
vineyard vines
life of pi
scuba diving
monarch butterfly
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 9:54 PM UTC
Adulthood is never initiated
on a birthday,
the obligation to pay the bills,
or even the freedom
to eat those two desserts,
but rather when you realize that childhood
has been terminated—the stage
where you sigh and suppose
that magic was just an illusion
when you finally see how
the real world operates.
Sep 21, 2011
Sep 21, 2011 at 9:30 PM UTC
Hills on top of fathomless hills
Where I have built my home
I walked here through the driest desserts
Swam here through the deepest seas
Hiked here through blizzards on mountains
A little piece taken each moment
Until I reached these hills
At top the rise of the earth
I look out at the universe
I can look out and say
I have been here
I have left my mark
Where it is the most important
I can look at the people building
Their homes and dreams and goals
And know they to will stand about
Their own hill, they will know that they
Made a difference in the world
Just by breathing the air
By making one laugh
And with that I may stray to the Mothers
Arms
And be sound , knowing I did my part
Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 6:54 AM UTC
It's not even romantic
But I'm going to write a poem of every boy I met.Not romantic,
It's not that I had met a lot of men.
On that morning
you played ukulele,
I sang along with the lyrics
Creep, Blur,anything
The morning light shined through your squinted eyes
I can still see the dust swirling, dancing in front of the sun-bathed face of yours.
Naive,friendly,happily
We were singing to each other
The other two are non-existence.
You are so warm, comfortable to be around with
A Belarusian boy ,aspiring to speak good Chinese.
You paint, you cooked and made desserts
Always at ease at hitchhiking
through Kazakhstan and China
I felt that you secretly want to try to escape from what you had
from Belarus to Czech, then to this mysterious Eastern world, a bit communist.
And then to Taiwan.
This is for you Ilya, a friend for only a day and night.
You're too delicate for me to handle as you have
skin like milk and heart of seven seas
Smile like a 5 year old in a swing.
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 11:25 AM UTC
The Things I Wish I Could Be
I wish I could be
one of all instruments;
the singer whose voice
transforms his audience into a choir;
the writer who drops his reader's guard
making a beautiful decimation of every self-made fantasy;
the actor ripe with nominations
whose prestigious Oscar breaks him open before the world;
the photographer who captures moments worth infinite words
while instilling that perfect piercing silence;
the painter of elegant simplicity
or ponderous complexity in every brush and stroke;
the icon strangers seek for reason
looking upon for inspiration;
the husband who gives and comforts
appreciating the angel he's been bestowed;
the father wise and guiding
with enough laughs and smiles to last their whole lives;
the chef and the baker serving only the best
scrumptious entrees and desserts;
the encyclopedia of experience
answering questions obscured from the web;
yet beyond all things
I wish to greet death with a smile
knowing my life, however lived
was worth those years.
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 11:26 PM UTC
Cup cakes are fun
Cup cakes are perfect..
Cute ones, lovely ones..
A mouth watering desserts a lovely decorations..
A bite of a tempting looking cupcake.
Fill your life with joy
Just gazing at one bring a smile on your face...
If i were to make a cupcake today
What flavor would it be?
Would it be chocolate, would it be vanilla?
Would it be strawberry, blueberry or a mixture of both?
Red velvet they say
lets give it a try..
My lovely cupcake
makes me forget the calorie
where are you now?
where has it gone now?
i wish it were here
at the wave of my wand
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 9:37 AM UTC
you see i am very very hungry, so much in fact
i burp very weirdly, yeah i feel so weird
i burp loud and i burp soft when i have a nice cream bun or a nice beef nachos
and i feel like a nice packet of chocolate biscuits
ya know to have with my coca cola
i was watching ellen degenerous and i felt like eating the pie that went in the contestants face
yeah i feel like a bag of popcorn as well as choctop at the movies
because my mouth is burping very weirdly
i don’t want to have this burping feeling
i feel like a strawberry milk and i am fighting myself saying, no, i don’t need it
the strawberry milk says yes, i do, but i don’t want a strawberry milk, it’ll just make me fat
i wanna lose weight but the burping is making me want food, i want a nice chocolate bar
and i want a bag of marshmallows, i want to have more energy
so i can be a cool person, that i am,
i know the burping really is bugging me
and i do want it to stop, STOP, making me feel this way, i want to an artist and a writer and not an eater
please leave me alone strawberry milk and leave me alone chocolate biscuits, i don’t want to eat you
i feel like a chocolate biscuit, but then i say, i will grow fat, ya know keep the fat on me
i don’t want to be fat, i want to lose weight, so leave me alone ya ****** strawberry milk and coke
i want to feel fit in my mind, so i can write and be creative
please leave me alone, junk food, i don’t want to eat you
but the junk food gets in my mind and makes me smell the nice chocolate
i know coke used to be a medicine, but i don’t wanna drink ya
i like to have a healthy lifestyle, and i want to lose this burping because
it’s the medication making me wanna eat, like donuts and vanilla slices and cream buns
and dewok chinese stir fry’s and chocolate biscuits and chocolate desserts and strawberry milk
and a large bottle of coca cola, as my medicine, I DON’T WANT THAT
i had a garden salad for lunch as well as a few glasses of water
i hate being fat, so that means at 2-30 pm, i will go for another walk, whether i feel like it or not
because i must get rid of all this food from my body, so i don’t get diabetes
so if you feel fat, because you eat too much food, push yourself into walking
and walk a regular pace, so you don’t feel sluggish
Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 10:06 PM UTC
*Rambunctious heart
Euphoric moments
Dizzying heights
Pleasures galore
Lofty heights
Erogenous zones
Passionately explored
Dreamy delights
Life’s desserts
Honey glazed
Aftertaste of love
Synchronized ******
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 12:22 AM UTC
My mobile screams
Its Taylor Swift " I wished it was me"
Wake up folks its 6 am
Let's face another hectic day
Another day of terror and challenge
Unlike the good old days
when life was even simpler
when mobiles were not a necessity
but communication still exists
in close knit families
Life was even greater
When smartphones and computers
were gadgets of the future
Still relationships went on smooth and happier
Life was even lovelier
when Apples and Blackberries
were merely fruits
for juices and desserts.
but still we need to strive
to face another day
in this concrete jungle
and adapt our life....
Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 8:21 PM UTC
*Apple pie is a wonderful treat, one of my favorite desserts.
With a warm, flaky crust, a scoop to make it à la mode,
Sweet with a spoonful of whipped cream.
But the pie by itself, doesn't make it my favorite treat.
It's where it takes my mind whenever I see it,
Smell it,
Taste it...
It was not your beauty that smote my heart, though you are beautiful.
It was not your illustrious eyes withholding a gorgeous soul.
It was not your delicate face that fills mirrors with joy when they reflect it.
All theses are parts of your magnificent, appealing body.
It was not your charm that smote my heart, though you are charming also.
It was not your gracious kindness and loving hugs as I cried into my pillow, broken by life's wicked games.
It was not your adorable bubblyness that cheered my spirits everyday.
All these are great parts of your stunning character.
It was you, only you, that stormed the keep of my frail and dying heart.
Seeing me as I was - broken like glass on a marbled floor - you gathered the shards and mended them with your own.
I sometimes wonder if there's something that reminds you of me, the way this apple pie reminds me of you.
Does a smile cross your beautiful face when I first say hello to you?
Do you stay awake tossing and turning because I won't leave your head or your heart?
Does your stomach tingle when we're separated from each other's company?
Did you cry alone at night when you and I thought we would never speak to each other again?
Do you love me?
Do you know I love you?
These are my thoughts, my questions,
After a slice of,
Apple pie.*
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 9:01 PM UTC
There's a cup in here, my love
Filled with coffee, a secret brand
I poured my sugar, sweet enough
Then mixed with cream I have at hand
Here's the coffee now, my dear
Sip with love while it is hot
Feel the creamier blend like us
Hug and kiss are desserts you've got!
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 2:33 PM UTC
A satisfied appetite is a simply joy
Overlooked and simplified
Like a growing urge, a salivating need
That is entrancing and glorified.
Everlasting for moments we call meals
Forgotten in time, lingering above
But the taste, the lonesome lover pushed aside
Gazes afar and near wanting to be enjoyed again
The young lady with a tongue of raspberry delight
And the matured widow with darkened cacao lips
Ripening nectar of a sliced peach center
Halved and topped with mascarpone crème
The man with a skin of caramel glaze
Caressing and savoring
With a fragrance and scent
Of hazelnut coffee indulgence and sin
In the pursuit of a brief love affair
What oral sensation did my taste buds want?
My odyssey of gustatory endeavors await
Through the seas of lined people and waiting staff
Generous portions and humble pies
Decadent desserts so rich you’ll die
Vine cherry tomatoes sliced and sauté
Over al dente rigatoni in a roasted cashew sauce
A robust aroma and savory appeal
Basil leaves with garlic strips
Olive oil to top the surreal
Hubristic meatball aborigine
Elysian cuisine or many dreams
Teasing the senses, warming the pit
Of flowing pleasures
And tingling fingertips
Without moral measures
And succulent wines
Rotisserie lamb falling of the bone
Seasoned with Sicilian herbs
And paired with broiled asparagus
Drizzled with lemon juice
And a glass of Merlot
Spices I hardly know
Lachrymose apologies beside a bottle of faded sorrows
With love there is pain, passion endured through the names
Thin soups, flavorless and dull, feeding street-thrown bums
Breathing hard against the delicatessen glass
Hickory smoked hams, pepper-seasoned pastrami
Vinegar cultured pickles and hard dried salami
Unpleasured, without measure, at one's leisure.
Forever my endeavor
Blackcurrant tea laced with slivers of gooping honey
Layers of cinnamon hair atop olive skin
red-painted doors with cedar trim
crushed almonds mixed with hazelnut butter cream spread
devilish rounds of crumbling rum-swirl bread
Smells and wonders, tastes so ...
oh god
Divine and sublime.
Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 5:42 PM UTC
Intimidated by political thugs
Prone to insert in one's mouth
The nose of a loaded gun
Or suspend a plastic bottle full of water
On males' reproductive *****
Devoid of freedom of expression
Also denied to his right and
Deplorable condition drawing attention
Shunning his God chosen land,
What is more a bright and warm country
Under the sun ,a journalist dreaming began
Fighting all odds between
The deep blue sea and the angry Satan
To migrate to a better place,
Where for democracy
Avowedly there is a better space,
Inhabited by civilized people,
Averse to discrimination based on race!
Burning his boat,
Crossing desserts,
Crammed with other refugees,
Packed with him in a boat
Some trying to reverse
Their economic lot,
Surfing uncharted waters
Seeking a paradise on earth
He headed to the country he sought
Though some their lives
At the hand of brutal traffickers lost
Beaten and thrown out of the boat,
Also at a port
Suspected of a terrorist bent
Many migrants to prisons were sent.
After a humiliating acid test
Why for a dreamland his country he left
As migrants' bane
They placed him at the foot
Of an ice-clad mountain.
“I will never see
My country again,
You are trying my patience in vain!"
He vowed
Despite the razor-sharp cold untold.
Then they took him up higher
An epitome to a cold fire!
Once more
He put his foot down
Putting on more clothes and
Changing attire.
They placed him
At the mountain's helm
As hell dark
Where the angel of death
Is seen stark.
Then in his head
Something began to bark
“*You rather choose
the better evil
If both your assailants and hosts
Are no two different devil! *"
Seeing first hand
Those with cold shoulder
Assylem seekers adore to attack
Though there are
Few not off humanity's track
At last he decided to return back
And under his country's sun bask
Mum for his rights to ask
Killing his journalistic knack!
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 9:18 AM UTC
This is a verse, not a song,
Let's gaze on the face of Agamemnon,
For ten years, he had stayed away,
Finally, he arrived home one day,
Yes, away to Troy he'd roamed,
The warrior king made it home,
But, he had been playing away,
His Queenie had a bad hair day,
Her axe did have a double blade,
As in her spa, she made him lay,
She drugged his wine, a loving cup,
Then proceeded to chop him up!
Off with his feet, for roaming so far,
Queenie really messed up her spa,
Off with his cheating hands,
He brought home ho's from foreign lands,
Off with his attachments,
You can guess what that meant,
Shoved them in his mouth,
as his head went south,
"Feed him to the swine!
It's pig feeding time!"
She yelled at the serfs!
"That cheating dud got his desserts!"
Queenie was having a bad hair day,
Warrior king had been playing away,
But, Queenie had a toyboy anyway,
She always kept smiling,
Looked for the silver lining,
Queenie's wealth was a'piling,
She was a keeper,
Old king now a sleeper,
Queen kept the kids, gold and slaves,
She did get hers one day,
Yes, Queenie kept the lot,
Or was it all a plot?
Queenie's bad hair day,
Warrior king had been playing away,
This is verse, not a song,
Let's gaze at the face of Agamemnon.
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 4:21 PM UTC
For the record, I suppose it should be stated I lost my soul in Vegas.
I would love to go back there and find it among those glittering lights and buffet tables of never-ending artful desserts.
It's funny that all I really remember are those pretty desserts and fried mashed potatoes.
I want those things back.
I'm like a raver with those lights.
I want to consume them.
I want to glow in my pores.
Not the cliched glow that wraps itself around the impregnated many,
but the glow that comes from sitting next to neon for too long.
That it could somehow stain you.
Rub off like fairy dust on skin.
That I could fly away due to its energy or wishful thinking.
Take me back to Vegas,
where they still hand that out for free by the boatload.
I need not gamble.
I need not glad-hand.
I would simply sit idly by the buzzing of pinks and blues and greens and reds.
And me and those cheap 1920's lights will have a moment,
a moment I can share with the cocktail waitress who asks me for the third time if I'm sure I don't need a little refresher drink.
Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 10:59 PM UTC
If you drive down route 235,
the lonely parallel line of route 5,
running through St. Mary's County, Maryland,
between the intersection of Old Three Notch road
and St. Andrew's Church road,
and the liquor store at the corner of Mattapany--
you must do so with a fat wallet,
and a growling stomach,
who barks at the flashing signs
of the sparkling chain restaurants--
wafting their familiar scents out the windows
and onto the busy street.
Utterly beleaguered every which way by these olfactory factories,
your mouth waters and your wallet lightens
as the tantalizing sensations
permeate your vehicle.
So you cave;
another lost soul vacates the street at Restaurant Alley,
under the prowling searchlights
and the intoxicating smells lingering like a dense fog;
You linger in your purgatory with glee.
You exit satisfied, patting your abdominous belly
and lifting your smiling face to the sky
in thanks to the gluttonous gods
who rain down these chain restaurants
from the heavens.
A satisfied sigh seeps out of loose lips,
barely hanging on to your fleshy face,
so ruddy and fat.
You act like your stop was something novel,
like it wasn't routine to acquiesce to these temptations;
you return to your car to continue your roamings
down restaurant alley.
Sadly, a full stomach won't stifle a querying nose,
and your senses are soon at it again;
just as the waiters and waitresses,
cooks and busboys--
are back at the window, leaning outside
with their clamorings and bustlings and cookings--
You pretend to entertain willpower as your copilot,
but even if that were so,
your senses would still be at the wheel,
with your mind bound and gagged in the trunk.
Restaurant Alley goes on for miles and miles and miles,
seemingly endless in the permeating fog of
burgers and pancakes and pasta and chicken and fries and burgers and soda and ice cream and beer and pasta and wine and America and pancakes and steak and appetizers and desserts and entrees and specials and kids menus and burgers and chicken and pasta and fries and burgers and ice cream and salad and burgers and soda and eat and eat and eat and eat and eat!
There's nothing to eat;
there's nothing to do but eat in Restaurant Alley,
on route 235 in St. Mary's County, Maryland.
So fasten your seat belt,
and loosen your waist belt,
and take a doomed trip down the endless roadway--
where you are dragged, shackled to food chains
that haul you from the perdition that is the lobby's waiting room
to be seated with loved ones at the mercy seat of Ambrosia.
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 5:02 PM UTC
I just invert the word Stressed,
And have some Desserts!!!
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 11:00 PM UTC
...unless it's with me.
Dating you is anti-climatic
and I'd be ****** if I ever
succumb to a part of me
begging to be cut loose from you.
I don't want to be swallowed by
the euphoria derived from
vintage pictures and videos;
I know that the saccharine
comfort will be both
short-lived and lachrymose.
I don't want to have to
flip through your new pictures daily,
searching for remnants of the love we shared
through the new love you'd then be experiencing.
Usually,
I'd wish nothing but the best
but I want the worse for you.
My mental is too detrimental
to handle you and another.
I don't want to wake up
from constant nightmares
leaving my stomach tied in knots
you'd only see on TV.
I don't want to sit at family dinners alone
when you were suppose to be there with me.
I don't want to have to look at chocolate desserts
and remember how it's your favorite
so although I detest chocolate,
I eat it anyway to somehow
suppress the feeling of you not being there.
I don't want to watch you fall in love with another.
You carry a part of me
every time you're apart from me
and I'd rather you cheat
than to follow what seems like tradition
and leave.
I don't want to watch you fall in love with another.
I'm wearing my heart on my sleeve
and I'm down on both knees
pleading please,
oh please
I don't want to watch you fall in love
...unless it's with me.
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 3:19 PM UTC
"Gone to one’s Glory" so they say.
Where exactly is it that, if we’re all headed that way?
Let ’s ask around to see where and what people think Glory will be.
It might be one place for you and another for me.
Some people, view Glory as a place out beyond the blue, with pearly gates.
They imagine it will be like walking into a magical, nirvana escape.
"I am a restricted diabetic who must pass up the desserts that I like.
Glory for me would be a place like Food Network where I can indulge and delight, and never worry about an insulin spike"
"As an athlete who loves to train my body to the highest level of fitness
Glory for me would be a place of perpetual summer Olympics."
"I am an obese lady with a hundred pounds to lose.
Glory for me would be a place that receives all, even those as big as a caboose."
"As an amputee who lives with stumps
Glory for me would be a place where you get new legs, to run like Forrest Gump."
Winfrey, Bezos, Buffett, and Gates?
Have you discovered Glory here on earth?
"For me, an astronaut, who loves to travel in outer space
I would find Glory to be a place to encounter those outside of the human race."
Glory might not be as far away as some make it seem; we may be shocked!
Glory may be another town, another neighborhood or just around the block.
When ones we love go to their glory we moan and we grieve
But what if we’ve got it all wrong like most other things we believe?
Going to one’s Glory might just mean going on to achieving one's highest dreams
The ancestors described what they thought glory would be
Using their highest imaginations and creativity.
For us It may be imperative and the right time to change that old narrative
Glory might be one place for you and another place for me
In the meantime, in this life, let’s stay present, and be all that we can be.
Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 9:15 PM UTC
we fall in love too easily
and fall apart faster
we love too serious
and hate much stronger
we cry over anything
especially boybands and boys
we judge other girls
with one flick of a hand
we eat too much
junk food and desserts
we sleep for too long
and hibernate on our days
we spend thousands
be it on make-up, clothes, or gadgets
all these left us drunk
we think tomorrow's hazy
how do we get sober again?
how do we face reality?
Feb 18, 2014
Feb 18, 2014 at 9:03 AM UTC