"doughnut" poems
O come buy doughnuts
doughnuts
doughnuts
doughnuts for sale
sweet ones, ladies
and yummy ones, gents;
precious doughnuts
you’ve never seen in your lands
I made them with my own hands
each sugary and yum to the core
round and hollow in the middle
each doughnut like Einstein’s universe
O come buy doughnuts
doughnuts
doughnuts
doughnuts for sale
colorful doughnuts
I have for you gathered here
I climbed the skies
to steal a color off each rainbow
that appears and disappears –
so have a blue doughnut,
a red or pink or green or purple
any color you will
or a psychedelic one if that please you more
O look at this love doughnut trick:
it fits your fingers like a huge wedding ring
and your beloved bites through
and then gets to your finger
and has to lick off every drop of sugar
and then kisses you on your hands
and after that
O, modesty forbids me to say anything beyond –
it’s all up to you…
Or would you prefer a doughnut bangle?
O come buy doughnuts
doughnuts
doughnuts
doughnuts for sale
O beautiful ladies
and gentle Sirs
please
make all my doughnuts
disappear within the hour
Sep 27, 2010
Sep 27, 2010 at 11:57 PM UTC
It follows my movements
behind a seashell,
every few steps
it drops the cup
over it's shoulder
prolifically it shifts
positions, so do I,
as slight of hand.
If the secret of love
is buried in his armpit,
and it is, maniacally.
Tho' not the kind
you buy at the movies,
of optimist derringers,
smoking guns.
Still,
flight begins when
the sun goes down
it shifts euphemistic trees
like shadow puppets
into walls of passion,
makes bulimia dreams
of doughnut holes,
something sweet
craving bakery counters
and bagels take up
the lonesome place
still ringing in our ears,
my ears,
placards hanging lobes
of the emotionally distressed,
handicapped dangle
I can't move my tongue
...again.
But, they still hear love
whisper their name
just before
the dawn becomes.
Sunny rising sonic
boom that scatters the birds
all into synchronized
sign language.
We strain,
to hear them sing anthems
over the roof tops,
it makes us happy to hear
every time,
just one more time.
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 9:56 PM UTC
I saw a glazed doughnut,
It made me go nuts!
It looked so delicious,
But it was not nutritious,
So I decided, why not some coconuts?!
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 1:09 PM UTC
If I were an elephant
I know just what I'd do
I'd pack my trunk with all my junk
And move far from the zoo
I'd bring with me my monkey
Best friend and sidekick Preston
If memory correctly serves me
He's a **** at giving directions
Cause I'd like to move to Timbuktu
Either that or Kathmandu
One thing is clear as long as it's not here
Any old place will do
I'd then open up a doughnut shop
Run by Preston the monkey and me
Where we would toss sprinkles on top
With banana creme in-between
We'd be known far and wide for our doughnut delights
Oh and fancy schmancy eclairs too
Yes if I were an elephant
That's exactly what I would do
Wouldn't you?
Dec 10, 2016
Dec 10, 2016 at 1:08 PM UTC
Do not try to put sprinkles on a doughnut
If the doughnut does not want sprinkles
Find a doughnut that wants sprinkles
And give them to him
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 9:16 AM UTC
Hey cheeky Teddy Bear!
Did they call you fat?
No, You aren't baby,
You have a wonderful warmth,
The earth looks beautiful
Through your warmth that hugs
Souls with Love and feelings..
Little Doughnut you aren't fat,
You are curvy
& Chummy Chum.
Sweet little potato
Smile a loads
Yes! You are
A Chum chum Plumy Doll.
__Fathima Ruhee__
Aug 15, 2019
Aug 15, 2019 at 1:19 PM UTC
He loved it when she slid up
to him, as sweet as a sprinkle doughnut -
but now, something has befallen her,
she's been burned or frozen, tastes more like
cinnamon raisin; but by virtue of his
firelit face and tall tales,
he still gets invited out.
_____________________________
He creaks upstairs an hour late, we
are already tangled up on the
back porch, smoking, and the
liquor has made everything
an economy of scale.
He is a ray of sunshine. Tells us
all the old groaners. The big fish.
Ultimately says, "Happy birthday.
Never let your guard down."
and hobbles off, with barb-wire chafing
his heel, and the rheumatic suspicion
that "rest" and "wellness" are
the fables taught to us by
bogeymen, trying to convince us
there are no bogeymen.
I am a tender Twenty tonight.
I want to twirl my fists in Muhammad Ali speedbag-spirals,
saying, "I am the champion. Never undefended."
But I am too drunk, and maybe
too humiliated.
God! He floats like painkillers. He stings like loss.
There he is, the tall order, the iron giant:
a two-story brainfreeze milkshake.
I shudder, a pipsqueak of a prizefighter.
The bucktoothed squirt at the icecream booth,
too short to notice that there are only three flavours.
Sep 15, 2010
Sep 15, 2010 at 3:01 PM UTC
before existentialism, and nietzsche in mind, philosophy was written
or spoken of accepting the socratic rigidity of words,
the rigidity of words known through
the socratic method of inquiry:
the simplest of questions imposed on
the meaning of words; e.g. what is virtue?
but with existentialism this old method
of inquiry, the poised posing bewilderment
lost its quality, in that the new method of
inquiry was given to stress not a method
of questioning but that of ambiguity,
even though this new method that simply
said the reverse of what is virtue as
the preservation of a narrative: "virtue" concedes
many variations exampled true, e.g. -
this dittoing going against - previously said /
as above - became staged against
a brick wall - since this method, the existential
method of brushing aside inquiry and entering
the realm of ambiguity was already present -
the pluralism of meaning found in certain words;
it isn't a question whether red or blue can
be ambiguous, this allocation of noun
and quality is all too pervasive - so when
an ambiguity is allowed to exercise its stressor
posit - the word in question is allocated
a verb orientation in its exercise of use and example,
further diluted by the quantity and lack of example,
and ascribed contorting
adjectivity due to the dilution of meaning: with lessened
recognition of sought out qualification to sentence
an enzymic perfection of: banker and philanthropist,
priest and maximilian kolbe, poetry and lack of envy.
even though these examples are idealistic,
they provide the obvious ambiguity already apparent,
hence the double ambiguity of opposites, ideal opposites.
in shorthand - if socrates were to come
upon reading existentialism - his questions
regarding the virtues would be bound to free floating
terms in the ditto bubbles of flimsiness of non-inquiry -
bewildered by the number of prompts to question,
there would be no necessary ambiguity to many other
terms of inactivity - such as the previously mentioned
red and blue, dog and glue, but too many, it would seem,
should a strict belief in categorising virtue as a noun
but not a verb be kept - for categorisation of such nature
only provides a linear cascade without due action
or cared for imitation - ending with the only chance of virtue
chanced and seen as an unvirtuous person
doing crossword puzzles in silence - and already
virtue's opposite is engaged in defending itself
and justifying its ills by first forcing many synonyms to
cover it in ambiguity, and asserting itself as an adjective
within a noun framework blunt: virtue v. unvirtuous
will only confiscate siamese phonetic mingling to ease the definition;
i guess that's how rhyming was born, the opposite
of alphabetical ordering: a, aardvark the violet's blue
****** a doughnut with you.
Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 11:31 AM UTC
You are my sun, the planets and the asteroids in between,
actually, make that the energy that embraces the sun,
the elements and trace elements that make up each planet...
(Oh, my stars!)
You are each perfect petal that unfurls ever so slowly in the morning light,
actually, make that the light that kisses each dew drop which
awakes each petal with that sweet kiss...
(Oh, blush, my buzzing bee!)
You are that raindrop that refreshes my parched soul that's stranded in a desert,
actually, make that the mirage that proves to be an oasis
as my eyes widen in wonderment with the reality of You.
(Oh, shucks, my sweet breath!)
You are my golden compass whenever I get lost in the wilderness,
actually, I wouldn't mind getting lost, if it means
that I get lost in your soulful, beautiful eyes Forever
(Oh, you cheeseball, you!!)
You are the chocolate ganache frosting on that chocolate cake,
actually, you are the powdered sugar on my honey-dipped doughnut
that brushes my lips, the perfect complement for hot, hot coffee
(Oh, honey bun!!)
You are the--
Sweetcakes??
You are the freshly ground pepper that dusts softly on my carbonara, I'm just
Ahem!!!!
You are the freshly ground pepper that dusts softly on my carbonara,
actually it would be bland and incomplete without you and---
Hey, babe!
huh?!
*I'm on dense mode right now, what are you really trying to say?
Come on, spill it, I NEVER hear it from you...*
Ummm, ummm...I...I...
I mean, I--
Out with it, come on!! You can do it---"I...."
Hoo! Ok, I...
I can do this---
I...
(Note to self: This is IT!!!!!)
I--
Yesss...?!!
I
am
the empty, wanting glass and you are the refreshing drink that fills me up,
actually,--
***~BOINKKKKKkkK~ !! I'm walking away now!!
Geez, if you can't say IT without all the Fluffy, duffy, Fluff,
see me walking away for now...I need the Skinny, the skeleton!
Sometimes one just needs to Hear it, you know?!
Oh, and I love you,in case you didn't know...but see me walk!***
Hey, honey bunny, smoochie sweetie pie?
...still walking away~~~~
I...
huff, huff, huff~~
I am walking towards you...
Huff, puff, puff and hufff~! (note to self: Walk on, walk on...)
I said I'm walking towards you...
~bump~!
and
I...
Love
You.
Apr 9, 2012
Apr 9, 2012 at 1:09 PM UTC
I would feed you crepes
while the city sleeps,
every night,
until I die
or until my whisking arm
gives out.
When I gasp with adrenaline
as you corner the road,
does it drive you crazy,
as you drive me
mad
to buy doughnut holes
at 3 A.M. ?
We share an addiction to lazy behavior,
but differ in our love
for coke,
for coffee.
For what?
When we broke years worth of tension
I thought it would be
more like
snapping a dried, autumn twig,
the crack of a whip
or dropping
a florescent tube light-bulb.
Instead it was that of morphine;
warm and gradual,
if at all.
I'm sorry I made such delusions,
held you high as perfection:
an irretrievable beast.
I thought myself shallow
in thinking
I was finally better than you
at something.
Now I think myself shallow
in thinking
I could do without you
because of your behavior
or lack there of.
I was wrong.
I thought I found
the disappointment
enough to
quench my lust.
But I'm yearning
just as ever,
even knowing what I'm missing.
So I'll sit here,
knowing we crave
the same basics
and differ
in specifics.
I'll sit here writing
as I watch you sleep.
I'll wait
as our ****** tension
slowly grows back,
like a forgotten
perennial ,
once again
making itself evident
and waiting for the
shing
of the garden shears
to snip its stalk
like a taught thread.
Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 1:29 AM UTC
Harvey sees the sun for the first time
without history--
the worn leather, unshined shoes in closet,
the ex-girls off the telephone--
the beams blow kisses, taunt, and beckon.
Harvey folds a paper with half a sentence
and puts it in his pocket--
"I'm too callused to love, too empty to be, a void..."
he knows the end but doesn't write it.
Harvey dreams of calm waters,
salt, sundresses, and eager toenails hammered into sand.
A waitress's reflection in the coffee shop glass shakes Harvey from trance.
"Another cup?" she asks with a crowbar forehead.
Harvey stares at her wrinkles, prying for exposition--
while her voice melts over innocent questions.
Harvey thinks about taking her home.
She'd talk of her ex-husband.
They didn't have kids, but she wanted them.
Harvey couldn't give her kids,
but he could give her him--
a favor.
She wouldn't die alone.
"Did you hear me? Coffee?"
He'd make her feel tall.
She'd find new, fast-talking, book-n-tabloid-munching friends.
Harvey would nod and "oooh" and "ahhh".
Harvey would itch for wrecking ball.
The waitress pours the cup despite his silence.
"If you need anything, let me know."
Harvey nods.
The coffee shop contains the hustle of a mad race track.
Elderlies at the bar, youngsters on the tile floor,
moms and dads hoping to choke with each bite of doughnut.
Harvey doesn't pay much attention to the other patrons.
They are reds, yellows, blues, and noise to him.
He unfolds the piece of a paper and writes,
"I'm too callused to love, too empty to be,
a void in search of a void to sink and share
the blackness."
He leaves a tip on the table.
He pays the cashier.
He leaves the colors and the noise.
He crumples the paper, and gives
it to the wind outside.
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 12:43 AM UTC
Disappointments are made out of
Doughnut Holes
and Doughnut Holes
are filled with Disappointments
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 11:09 PM UTC
Phew, **** what's that smell,
This kitchen soo stinks,
Eww, god, is it the bin?
Or maybe the sink,
Rubber gloves on,
Bleach at the ready,
Approach the bin,
Hold the bleach steady,
Jaysus, what, the hell is that stuff,
It looks like some bread, and a teabag,oo, rough,
A doughnut, all soggy, and out of date jam,
My god im a ****** is that cooked ham?,
Bin is all clean,
But still smell a stench,
I've spotted a stain,
On my breakfast bar bench,
O, ****
That's it,
My baby nephew did it,
His leaky wee *****
Has smeared on my chair,
Face mask at the ready,
And tie back the hair,
Amazing how sticky a baby's poo gets,
That'll teach you to ignore the"do you think the kids wet?"....
Nov 9, 2010
Nov 9, 2010 at 3:12 AM UTC
Here you stand blowing raspberries
at my phonemic skills.
Please close your lips. Just listen.
Learn of bilabial trills.
You may call me an animal
for my alveolar clicks,
for in America its only real use
is for catcalling chicks.
And not many understand
a velar implosive stop,
that the words are the gurgle
of a doughnut shop cop.
And yes, my pharyngeal fricative
sounds like something's amiss.
But its not always contempt,
like some puppet show hiss.
So, if you just could excuse
my pulmonic ingressive,
I promise, If it feels like it hurts,
I will be singly expressive.
I guess all I can say
is that when you hear what I say,
remember, it more than just words
that I try to convey.
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 8:46 AM UTC
I really want a doughnut,
i think,
but where do i get one? I am vegan and in Belgium.
They are not widely available,
When I dance in my kitchen thinking of doughnuts
I am the spirit of James Brown
Well not really, he was way cooler.
Additionally, I am 6 foot 5 inches
White and have two flat feet.
I can speak Dutch though and James Brown couldn't
my kitchen surfaces are sparkling and I am possibly high off the cleaning product fumes.
Provided the manufacturer hasn't removed them for safety purposes
I really do want a doughnut.
Now, not tomorrow,
Life is short, give me the sugar,
I wonder if James Brown sometimes got strong sweet food cravings.
Could probably check google and find out,
but some things are best left unknown.
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 8:58 AM UTC
Ayoko na lamang bilangin ang mga oras
Na nasisinagan pa tayo ng araw,
Maghahabulan at magtatampisaw na parang mga basang sisiw
Sa hubad na kalsadang naunang pagalitan ng langit.
Naaalala ko pa noong elementarya'y
Sabay tayong papasok sa eskwela
Matapos humigop ng mainit na sopas ni Nanay.
At minsan nga'y nakalilimutan nyang hanguin ito nang maaga
Kaya matapos nating kumain ay sabay rin tayong magtatawanan
At maglalaro ng "tag-tagan" patungo sa kanto sa sakayan.
Hindi ba't pumupunta pa nga tayo sa may bandang iskwater,
Makapaglaro lang ng pitsaw sa dati nating mga kaklase?
Nagagalit kasi si Nanay kapag sa bahay natin sila niyayaya
At magkakalat ang putik sa ating sahig
Kasi pati si Bantay ay nakisali sa paghuhukay.
Ilang beses din tayong naligo sa dagat
Kahit na ang sabi ni Tatay ay manginas muna tayo
Habang siya ay nasa laot pa.
Pero uuwi tayong mga basa at walang pang-ulam na pasalubong
Kaya muli tayong mapagagalitan
Kasi ang titigas daw ng mga ulo natin.
Hindi ba nahuli ako sa eskwela noon na nangongopya sa'yo?
Tapos sinabi mo sa titser na ikaw ang nangongopya at 'di ako?
Hindi ko kasi makalimutan yun
Kasi pag-uwi natin sa bahay, ako pa yung nagtampo sayo
Nung ikaw yung unang pumili sa doughnut na dala ni Tatay.
At nung gabing iyon, hindi ako tumabi sa'yong matulog
Ang sabi ko pa ay ayaw na kitang makita muli
Kasi naghalo-halo na yung nasa utak ko.
Pero alam mo ba, na sa mga oras na yun
Hindi ko talaga inaasahang seseryosohin mo yun.
Kaya noong maggising na lamang ako'y
Nagulat akong wala sila Nanay at Tatay
At si Aling Rosing pa ang nagsabi sa'kin
Kung ano ang mga nangyari
At kung saan ako pupunta.
Sinabi ko na ngang ayoko na magbilang ng mga oras,
Pero heto pa rin ako...
At taon-taon akong nangungulila at nagsisisi.
Siguro nga kung hindi ako natulog agad
Ay baka may naggawa pa ako.
Siguro nga kung hindi ko sinabi ang mga iyon,
Ay hindi mo ring magagawang umalis.
At siguro nga kung hindi ako nagtampo'y
Wala naman talaga tayong pag-aawayan.
Hindi ka rin hahanapin nila Nanay sa gitna ng gabi
At hindi sila masasagasaan ng tren para iligtas ka lang.
Siguro nga, pero huli na ang lahat eh
Wala na kayong lahat at iniwan n'yo na 'kong mag-isa.
Sana sa huli kong pagbisita'y mawala na rin ang lahat ng bigat,
Mawala na ang pagkamuhi ko sa sarili ko,
Kasi pagod na ako...
Pagod na pagod na ako.
Oct 8, 2021
Oct 8, 2021 at 11:11 PM UTC
The last time
all 206 bones of yours were
against me, I memorized your pupils
(the size of a dot on an
i, coffee and cream
doughnut holes
letters I write you at breakfast)
so I would not forget
the next time
you had to leave my side. I just did
not think the memory
would have to last my whole life.
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 6:48 PM UTC
do doughnut
re Ray thought
mi mean hunger
fa fond of maple
sol sold out
la long time to decide
ti tea goes bad with
do doughnuts
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 2:03 PM UTC
Lort nok bliver råbt i gaderne
Baglæns fra politi
Autoritære magtnydere
Magtliderlige voldsbrugere
Råbende autonomer skriger
LORT NOK
Derude i natten
Løber de fra staten
Staten siges at passe på
Os
Løgn løgn løgn
det er lort nok!
De begrænser os kun
Lader os ej studere
Den anden verden af Frihed
Vi lærer kun at leve
I en ulidelig frihedsløs
Verden
Vi lever ikke
Kun efter regler
Sat og bestemt
Fra barnsben af
Jeg skal være lydig
For ellers får jeg gas
Mens alle voldsmænd går fri
Du skal underlægge dig voldsmændene
Din ytringsfrihed bliver dig frataget
Og du må aldrig lære at nedbryde DIN regering
For hvis du nedbryder den
Bliver de frihedsberøvede frie
Og voldsmændene bliver taget
Folket er underdanige
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 4:21 AM UTC
To eat or not to eat, that is the question.
A doughnut, ****** airy I’ll consume--
adjust my diet later to make room--
or falsely reject pastries’ sweet delight
while bingeing pasta deep into the night?
Doughnut, thou art satisfying, sweetly
filling morsel, savored now discreetly—
perhaps a little midday’s sugar craving
is better solaced, hunger I’ll be staving
off, resisting better night time craves.
‘Tis better, easier to have the faves;
by portions small on calories I’ll save,
and skip on other dishes that don’t taste
as sweet and crispy, but go straight to waist.
Aug 28, 2016
Aug 28, 2016 at 7:16 AM UTC
I would like to bury
all the hating eyes
under the sand somewhere off
the North Atlantic and suffocate
them with the awful sand
and put all their colors to sleep
in that soft smother.
Take the brown eyes of my father,
those gun shots, those mean muds.
Bury them.
Take the blue eyes of my mother,
naked as the sea,
waiting to pull you down
where there is no air, no God.
Bury them.
Take the black eyes of my love,
coal eyes like a cruel hog,
wanting to whip you and laugh.
Bury them.
Take the hating eyes of martyrs,
presidents, bus collectors,
bank managers, soldiers.
Bury them.
Take my eyes, half blind
and falling into the air.
Bury them.
Take your eyes.
I come to the center,
where a shark looks up at death
and thinks of my heart
and squeeze it like a doughnut.
They'd like to take my eyes
and poke a hatpin through
their pupils. Not just to bury
but to stab. As for your eyes,
I fold up in front of them
in a baby ball and you send
them to the State Asylum.
Look! Look! Both those
mice are watching you
from behind the kind bars.
1.6k
this must be how a tiger feels
declawed
staring through the glass of a cage
at children
pointing
and mothers
scolding
and lovers walking
handinhand
do they revel in their sadness
because i imagine
they sleep all day
for the same reasons that i do
because staring at people watching you
bask in your own misery is
tiring.
but i am not a tiger.
i am a sad sad girl
addicted to misery
eating her yogurt
imagining herself a predator
while wanting a doughnut
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 11:35 AM UTC
It started out a day like any other.
Down at Billy Bobs Nuclear Power Plant and toaster repair.
Where I sit in front of the monitor
with my dumb blank look and stare.
Until my friend Jim came in,
with coffee, doughnuts, and a magazine, he had grabbed from the john.
Wouldn't you know it the centerfold was gone.
So, I stood up to stretch and yawn.
As I sat back down I knocked over the coffee,
And the jelly doughnut rolled out the door into the hall.
The array of toasters went up in flames,
as did the magazine and the wall.
Jim started talking like Captain Kirk,
as he went into his Star Trek mode.
I slapped him hard across the face,
and informed him this Enterprise was set to blow.
That's when we both turned and saw the florescent green ooze,
seeping under the door.
At that point it was every man for himself,
as I pushed the elevator for the 13th floor.
Leaving the babbling Jim behind,
with the elevator on its way,
pipping in a soft musical version
of Jimi Hendrix's Purple Haze.
(which seemed to me rather odd)
Once the doors slid open,
thinking there's never been a 13th floor before,
I was surrounded by flesh eating zombified rodents,
About to become their lunch de jour.
As the zombie rodents zeroed in,
my friend Jim showed up...What luck.
With communicator in hand, and in his best Kirk voice,
He said, "Scotty beam us up".
As we were high in the sky,
I saw half of the south implode.
As boring as this day started,
you never would have know'd.
I hated to leave the world behind,
In such a mess, after my coffee spill.
One thing I did leave, believe you me,
Was Duncan Doughnuts the entire bill.
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 6:30 PM UTC