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The Good Pussy Dec 2014
                               Eat me
                        Eat me Eat me
                      Eat me Eat meEat
                     Eat me Eat  me Eat
                        Eat me Eat me
                        Eat me Eat me
                        Eat me Eat me
                        Eat me Eat me
                        Eat me Eat me
                        Eat me Eat me
                        Eat me Eat me
                        Eat me Eat me
                        Eat me Eat me
                        Eat me Eat me
                        Eat me Eat me
                        Eat me Eat me
                        Eat me Eat me
         Eat me Eat              me Eat me
      Eat me Eat me        Eat me Eat me  
  Eat me Eat me Eat    me Eat me Eat me
     Eat me Eat me          Eat me Eat me
          Eat me                        Eat me
Like a Marvel of the Phoenix
All ends with begin-nings
What keeps the Force spinning (uh)
X-Force is beginning...

We have let go...and feel-ing Mex-i-co
Let's raise the Bell, serving tacos, escape
this Hell?

"She's up and hungry for fun,
I'm up all night to eat some
She's up all night so let's run
We're up all night to eat tacos...

We're up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos...
I'm up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos...
I'm up all night to eat tacos...

"We eat ta-cos 'til there's sun
Stayed up all night to eat one
Got hungry, -and made 'Ah' run
We're up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos...
I'm up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos...
I'm up all night to eat tacos...

Taco Bell, it sets no hours...
...and it's raining, -taco showers?
What is this I'm feeling?
Seeing tacos on my ceiling?

We've come too far to give up who we are

"We eat ta-cos 'til there's sun
Stayed up all night to eat one
Got hungry, -and made 'Ah' run
We're up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos...
I'm up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos...
I'm up all night to eat tacos...

...Taco Bell allow guns inside?

"We eat ta-cos 'til there's sun
Stayed up all night to eat one
Got hungry, -and made 'Ah' run
We're up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos...
I'm up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos...
I'm up all night to eat tacos...

"We're up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos...
I'm up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos....

...Taco Bell allow guns inside?
Deadpool Taco Bell Daft Punk dream state. Lyrics altered from Daft Punk, "Get Lucky." Ever notice how your brain puts this kinda stuff together when you dream?
Allen Wilbert Sep 2013
I Eat

I eat fingers, I eat toes,
I will even eat a runny nose.
I eat arms, I eat legs,
I use blood in my scrambled eggs.
I eat eyes, I eat ears,
it goes down good with some cold beers.
I eat hair, I eat skin,
lots of good meat on a human shin.
I eat kidneys, I eat livers,
if you don't like it, cry me some rivers.
I eat guts, I eat brains,
Their already dead, so no one complains.
I eat *****, I eat *****,
it tastes better than some milk and a cookie.
I eat veins, I eat a heart,
eating an ***, always makes me ****.
I eat ****, I eat lips,
I will even eat artificial hips.
I eat moles, I eat warts,
I would even eat you stained shorts.
I eat appendix, I eat gall bladder,
on a rope or on a ladder.
I eat small and large intestines,
prison has taught me no lessons.
Some call me a ruthless cannibal,
I started as a child, when I ate then animal,
I'm like a zombie that isn't dead,
maybe its because I'm ******.
"Just eat"
Mom says to me as she stares at me staring at my plate
"Wouldn't you feel better If you just ate?" She says "you're killing yourself you dumb little girl"  
I roll my eyes and I blink, I can see she's worrying sick by the bottom of her drink. She shrinks in fear every time I sit down to eat, cause she knows what I plan on doing in the bathroom every time I leave the kitchen.

"What a living hell" she says, looking at me like I'm the craziest ******* earth; As if I was the only one in the whole world. I just sit there staring back without talking any words.
She yells "you're putting me trough hell"
"Well mom you're so selfish that it's hard to tell" I respond
She calms a bit down as I bite a carrot, still she always seems to me like a parrot "eat eat eat" "don't do this to me" she repeats night and day even in her sleep.

I love my mum but she doesn't get being numb, food stuck on my mind while I'm just chewing gum, she just thinks I'm really dumb, for starving myself.
"Oh my darling" she sobs every time she's serving my plate "my poor little darling" observing my every move to make sure I don't hide my meal inside my hair
"Just eat, You'll feel better and you'll start to heal"
I know she's right, being cold and dizzy all the time is exactly my fight, Madly I bite my lip so she doesn't notice  I care. My head is aching all the time but at least my weight is not okay for my height so I might hide how much it hurts again.

"Just eat your meat" she says staring at me like I'm some kind of freak "You're so pale and weak, you must eat, don't cheat and you'll get a treat" I know she's right because I can never feel the heat but she should meet the two girls in my head I can never beat.

"Just eat, your arms and legs could snap" but at least I have a slender neck and a stomach that's flat.

"Just eat please, you're so sick" I know this but I'll have to stick with water and celery although I'll have no energy, I'll look pretty.

"Just eat, It tastes better than you think"
she says as she takes a bite out of the dessert she just served, but all I can think of is how much It'll hurt.
"Why would it hurt? It's just cake for god's sake" she yells
But all I feel is dirt and blame on the after taste of chocolate, I know I'll just break If I take a bite. I shake my head saying "No, I'm fine"
"Just eat, I baked it just for you" she says as she pours another glass of wine,
She's been drinking since I was nine, just after I broke my spine and I had to get surgery so mom found comfort on the nursery watching the fat little babies laugh and sleep, she claims there was so much peace she just had to get a drink.

"Just freaking eat" she screams at me
"Why can't you just at least eat beans like the other teens?" "But mom If I eat beans I won't fit into my jeans" I say. "We will get you some new jeans, but at least eat the greens" she responds.

I'm so sick of hearing her, I think my mind might explode so I might as well take a bite, I suppose. I grab a fork but I can't control feeling so alone and exposed so tears start coming out of my eyes, I know she is always right. I should eat, I shouldn't feel this weak.
"That's okay Honey, I'm here"  but that normally only lasts for a week until she stops caring and disappears as I sink in my tears, then she comes back and yells I should
Just eat.
-Daniela Jolin Linares, MX, 15.
I don’t suffer from Anorexia Nervosa
Fake Name Nov 2016
Blue Bacon and Mexican Swiss Cheese with Krusty Jam

My name is Bam Da Pam
Bam da Pam my name is

Dat Bam-da-Pam-I-am
Dat Bam-da Pam!
I like Dat

Do you like blue bacon and mexican swiss cheese with krusty jam

I like them,
Bam da Pam
I like
Blue bacon and mexican swiss cheese with krusty jam

Would you still like them
In or out
Would you not like them
In a spout

I would like them
In or out
I would like them
In a spout.
I do like
Blue bacon and mexican swiss cheese with krusty jam
I do like them,

Would you hate them
Up or down?
Would you hate them
All around?

I like them
Up or down.
I like them
All around.
I like them
In or out.
I would still like them
In a spout.
I like blue bacon and mexican swiss cheese with krusty jam
I like them, Bam-da-Pam-I-am.

Would you hate them
On a platter?
Would you hate them
with a splatter?

On  a platter.
With a splatter.
In or out.
With a spout.
I would eat them up or down.
I would eat them all around.
I would eat blue bacon and mexican swiss cheese with krusty jam.
I do like them, Bam-da-Pam-I-am.

Would you? Could you?
in a bar?
Hate them! Hate them!
Here they are.

I would,
I could,
in a bar

You may hate them.
You will see.
You may not like them
in a bee?

I would, I could in a bee.
In a bar! You let me be.
I do like them on a platter.
I do like them with a splatter.
I do like them in or out.
I do like them in a spout.
I do like them up or down.
I do like them all around.
I do like blue bacon and mexican swiss cheese with krusty jam
I do like them, Bam-da-pam

A train! A train!
Could you, would you
on a train?

“On a train! In a bee!
In a bar! Bam da Pam! Let me be!”
I would, I could, on a platter.
I could, I would, with a splatter.
I will eat them with a spout
I will eat them in or out.
I will eat them up or down.
I will eat them all around.
I do like them, Bam-da-Pam-I-am.

Would you, could you, in the dark?

I would, I could,
in the dark.

Would you, could you,
in the rain?

I would, I could in the rain.
In the dark. On a train,
In a bar, in a bee.
I do like them, Bam da Pam, you see.
On a platter. With a splatter.
In a spout. In or out.
I will eat them up or down.
I do like them all around!

You do like
Blue bacon and mexican swiss cheese with krusty jam?

I do
like them,

Could you, would you,
on a hippo

Would you cook it with a zippo

I could and would on a hippo
I will, I will cook it with a zippo
I will eat them in the rain.
I will eat them on a train.
In the dark! In a tree!
In a bar! Please let me be!
I do like them on a platter.
I do like them with a splatter.
I will eat them in a spout.
I do like them in or out.
I do like them up or down.
I do like them ALL AROUND!

I do like blue bacon and mexican swiss cheese with krusty jam

I really like them,

You do like them.
SO you say.
Try them! Try them!
And I will walk away
Try them and you may I say.

If you will let me be,
I will try them.
You will see.

I hate blue bacon and mexican swiss cheese with krusty jam!
I do! I hate them, Bam da Pam
And I would not eat them on a hippo!
And I would not cook them with a zippo...
And I will not eat them in the rain.
And not in the dark. And not on a train.
And not in a bar. And not in a bee.
They are so bad, so bad you see!

So I will hate them on a platter.
And I will not eat them with a splatter.
And I will not eat them in a spout.
And I will not eat them in or out.
And I will not eat them up or down.
Say! I will not eat them ALL AROUND!

I do, I do, I hate
Blue bacon with mexican swiss cheese and krusty jam!
I HATE you!
I HATE you,
Feedback please, i am turning this in and would like some other peoples thoughts
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
.bacon doesn't exist in Polish cooking... podgarle... the under-neck meat of a pig... or just plain lard... rather than olive oil... 1 onion per 1 scrambled egg... paprika and lots of garlic... and definitely some cayenne pepper... certainly more onions than eggs, scrambled... and definitely using animal fat... to fry it on... hell... if vegetable fats are so healthy... why is there a term for the vegetative state of immobility of an otherwise animate being?

****! not against Norwegians...
what the **** am i saying?!
spotted one vegan girl...

              pork head terrine...
slavic version of
the Scotch haggis -
                 omnivore -

        you eat what?
i eat anything that, once upon
a time, moved...

                i've actually fallen in love
with a fetish that i circumcise into
a lobster...

  i want to eat a lobster...
chicken bone marrow isn't enough...
i want a lobster...

              i want to taste the foods
that could cure me of
ever wanting the 72 virgins
promised by Islam...

    instead? i want the feast
of Belshazzar...
to begin with...

i don't like bacon...
i prefer prosciutto...
   i haste bacon... it's too crude...
too anglo-saxon...

i hate the stink of frying it...
******* hate it like
a Muslim....
    prosciutto? different story...

and i hate ***. sushi...
smoked salmon,
and raw herrings in cream dill
   or with pickled cucumbers
in a cream sauce?

thumbs up...
i'll only eat sushi,
if i take a knife in public...
and eat it with a cut up lemon...

raw lemon and sushi?
i can do that...
                  but i need a bench,
in a public space...
and a knife...
                      i can stomach that
sort of sushi,...
but? scotch smoked salmon,
of the Baltic king,
namely the herring
in a creamy sauce...

you come near me with
that ******* about calorie
  i'll tell you to stomach
a ******* rhino!

               not here, not now...
    i don't like the sort of impoliteness
of people who do not eat
the other person's food...
****** me off...
eat the food, **** the turban!
i said! eat the food, forget
donning the turban journalistic


               the food! the food!
eat the food!
you don't eat the food?
you might as well be donning
a donkey's **** on your heard,
thinking it a Sikh turban
on, your 'ed...
you, *******! ****!

eat the food...
   is it me, or having watched
channel 4, in England,
finding the English people
overtly picky about
the food they eat?!
you figure that one out?
they're picky... don't you think?
picky as if half of them are
allergic to nuts!

but the English want to both
entertain the food, & the clothes...
       goodie ol luck!
the "thing" you've had,
prior to 1945?
you're not getting it back, forget it!
i too remember Tony Blaire
Hong Kong was a
revival of the ancient Greek
                 love the diet...
            too bad i eat the rare,
most decent architectural pieces
of pork...
     like the head,
meat + cartilage + fat + sclera...
   in a terrine...
   yummy... ******* yummy...
      what else?
chicken hearts broth,
chicken stomach broth...
    cow intestines broth...
   pig liver sauce...
   duck blood soup...

                   the Semites
and the Arabs can have
their Kosher and Halal rites...

we? the people of the north?
we have the economics
of the purity of a slaughtered

unlike the Semites?
we use all the bits,
best for frying or worst for the broth...

which segregates us from
Golgotha and last supper poetics,
Semitic poetics,
of invigorating a stance
for the...
     transmutation of human
flesh, subsequently the
        refusal of pork,
but somehow normalizing cannibalism;
  how about? NO!
   i rather eat pork, curated
to Italian standards of smoking...
i will not eat the filth of the *******
catholic Eucharist!
   no chance in hell!
the Semitic critique of pork
is my critique of the... "bread"...
you eat it!
    i'm not eating it...
now? sheave the silence,
   and the lamb...
      oh yeah... i'm anti-semitic -
against one Jew... hey-zeus christos!
Donall Dempsey Apr 2016

Darling daughter
refusing to eat

so, I: sea
shanty her.

"Oh what do ya think we'll have for supper?"

"Eat Tilly eat!"

"Oh maybe we'll have alligator!"

"Eat my Tilly!"

"Oh but I couldn't eat a whole alligator!"

"Eat Tilly eat!"

" only half and keep half for later!"

"Eat my Tilly!"

"Eat alligator before he eats you!"

My little sailor suited girl
opens her mouth to laugh

and in pops
Mr. Spoon.

Hmmmmmm.....yum yum.

Soon alligator becomes
her word

for any eatables
whether it be ice cream or scone.

Now she sings
heartily to self

my three year old salty sea dog

Tilly's stammer vanished when she sang so I sang to her and got her to sing back to me...the call and response of the sea shanty was an excellent device to utilise. So I would sing to her: "PASS THE BUTTER TILLY...DON'T PET THE BUTTER SILLY!"

The stammer would also be no more if she mimicked voices so we often stepped into the borrowing of W.C. Fields' voice. She would also "N" words so that "porridge! would become "Norrige!"  She would also leave the first letter of the word off so that "dog" would become an "OG!" However she would also make up her own words like a little Adam so that a 'cat" was always an. . .  
"ANA BOOBOO!"  She would also slur a sentence into its component sounds and tones and inflections ending in one clear word at the end as in "Wouldyoulikeanicecupof...TEA!"  Such are the learning curves when one engages with the delights of the language.

Sung to the tune of BLOW BOYS BLOW!

"O Congo she's a mighty river,
( blow boys blow )
Where fever makes the white man shiver.
Blow my bully boys blow!"
Donall Dempsey Apr 2019

Darling daughter
refusing to eat

so, I: sea
shanty her.

"Oh what do ya think we'll have for supper?"

"Eat Tilly eat!"

"Oh maybe we'll have alligator!"

"Eat my Tilly!"

"Oh but I couldn't eat a whole alligator!"

"Eat Tilly eat!"

" only half and keep half for later!"

"Eat my Tilly!"


My little sailor suited girl
opens her mouth to laugh

and in pops
Mr. Spoon.

Hmmmmmm.....yum yum.

Soon alligator becomes
her word

for any eatables
whether it be ice cream or scone.

Now she sings
heartily to self

my three year old salty sea dog

Instrospect Mar 2017
When you're clearly eating rice
And right beside you is your mom
Who then asks why you're not eating rice
And that you should eat more.
Eat more eat more eat more.

Flashback to three years ago when you were at your heaviest
Which to be honest wasn't even anywhere close to obese
You were told to eat less.
Eat less eat less eat less.

It has been an endless cycle
And on the hundredth time you hear this comment,
You finally break.

She says you're too sensitive.
Oh really? What about those other 99 times that I never gave a **** reaction?
You're always too affected by her comments!
They were clearly just meant to encourage you to be "healthier" since you've been working ******* your project lately.
You should understand what they're feeling when you react like that.
You're hurting THEIR feelings when all they want is the best for you.
The best for you.

In the back of my mind I think,
I often eat more than my friends.
I trimmed down my unhealthy fat.
I'm trying to gain muscle.
I've been working out to stay fit not thin.
I'm trying to be healthy.
So how is it that I should be sensitive to your feelings when you're not sensitive to mine?

When I look thin to you,
I don't need to eat more eat more eat more
Just to gain weight.
When I look fat to you,
I don't need to eat less eat less eat less
Just to get thin.

Because this is my body.
I know how much food to eat to feel just the right amount of full.
This is my body.
I know it better than you.

Triggers when you're just trying to be healthy and people keep telling you ****.
Eat eat eat that Easter egg
Eat that egg cause it is good for your leg
Eat it up from top to bottom
Eat eat eat that Easter egg
Everybody is happy
Everybody is glad to be ALIVE
In this great big world
Don’t forget to have fun
Playing with your olds and kids and pets yeah have fun
Eat eat eat that hot cross bun
Eat eat eat that hot cross bun
Don’t eat too much
Or you will get too fat
Just eat a little to have such fun
Come on Easter bunny come now
Come on Easter bunny come now
Give us our fix of chocolate eggs
Come on Easter bunny come now
Jesus said something wonderful
Jesus said something true
Jesus died and came back to life again
To join us in heaven
And have some fun
Donall Dempsey Apr 2018

Darling daughter
refusing to eat

so, I: sea
shanty her.

"Oh what do ya think we'll have for supper?"

"Eat Tilly eat!"

"Oh maybe we'll have alligator!"

"Eat my Tilly!"

"Oh but I couldn't eat a whole alligator!"

"Eat Tilly eat!"

" only half and keep half for later!"

"Eat my Tilly!"


My little sailor suited girl
opens her mouth to laugh

and in pops
Mr. Spoon.

Hmmmmmm.....yum yum.

Soon alligator becomes
her word

for any eatables
whether it be ice cream or scone.

Now she sings
heartily to self

my three year old salty sea dog

Sarah Mar 2016
It's 11:37
and that's
when I want
to rise
and follow my eyes
my de-
sire to eat
and eat
and eat
and eat
and eat some

It's 11:38,
pancake masticate
where I feel like
I'm starving
carving fake
into my
mind and I
eat and I
eat and I
eat and I
and I

It's 11:39
that's pancake time,
that's a near rhyme
I'm writing as to
stop myself
from wanting to
eat and
eat and
eat and
and eat and
eat and

and I
Dakota Demery Oct 2011
And the spiders eat the flies,
And the frogs eat the spiders,
And the snakes eat the frogs,
And the birds eat the snakes,
And the cats eat the birds,
And the cats eat the birds,
And the cats grow fat and the
cats grow slow and the cats all die,
And the flies eat the cats,
And frogs eat the flies,
And the spiders eat the birds,
And the cats eat the snakes and
then there are the gators and the gators
eat them all and the gators eat them all,
And the gators grow fat,
And the gators all die,
And the flies eat the gators, and the cats,
and the birds, and the snakes, and the frogs,
and the spiders, and the plants and the
garbage, and
The flies eat the world
and the humans don't know,
And the humans don't know.
They're all inside,
Because flies are annoying.
This randomly came into my head while I was swatting flies. It was written in approximately five minutes and that facet is probably noticeable. I hope you enjoy!
Tunselous Jan 2014
many years ago in the tower of tunselous a man named tunselous was born
he gave birth to androsss ****** parents then he made his way to
rosswell new mexico to see if the ufo was still there and it wasnt
at tall tis but a forrest and a spot were a ufo used to be there was no
ufo so he traveled upwards to find one but instead found thee icy tower
of agnatohniousisoy he wnet on the great ice towar run where he found several dragons but not a single ufo
a man of tis a warden eve e preson seed no matter how hard you look
the ufos will cloak like ice dragons among there once was a man named turok
who find a ufo when looking add that man was me that man was a dino slayer
a king of eriched oreo bread if you know what i mean the point of the matter is
turok did not **** tunselouses parent for no reason then tunselous
said wait turok killed my pairents the warden said yes that is waht he
told me on the nyght we had tea on the icy roads of ufo city
tunselous said wait theres a hole cit7y of ufos the warden said yes
there is tunselous said do you have any left over tea from that night
the warden said no tea for thee then cast tunselous out of window
tunselous falled for inches into a pool of cat eyed johns fisherer
for impaired divers tunselous said wait if i eat theese pills they
will surely give me magic powers tunselous ate the pills and they did
nothing but give him magic powers he used the magic powers for nothing
they were not the ones he were searching many kingdoms ago a man once
said with great tun comes great selous and that man was trokie asked tunselous
if he wanted a robodog and tunselous said yes many kingdoms later tunselous find
the most magic thing that thing was a cat not any cat you see many kingdoms ago
cats were magic he would eat the flesh of cats and gain what litle magic was left in them
he latter went to calling himself tunsalous then he went back to
calling himeself tunselous and on that day he ate many a cat
and i mean many not the many you see on tv but the many catwhips you see for sale at sean johns
apple sale he has evrey year to get rid of his crapy apple computers
many years after sean john would meet on the very spot of the battle
feild where they fought and feasted on goatwich anvicos the goatwich
waS A POWERFUL king a king of druidness and fareness and evilness and
and gun shots in the leg and fair treatment of tunselous and kettlecorn
a bag of human limbs and markers and grocers and ****** enounters
and farawayland and great houses and ufos tunselous relized that
thee king was king of ufos and wnet to asked him for a ufo
and he gave him one and tunsalous studyed how it flyed
for many kingdoms later he discoverd powerfull magic within the the great temples walls of icelion
yes temples and temples and temples temples and temples and temples temples and temples and temples
temples and temples and temples temples and temples and temples temples and temples and temples
temples and temples and temples temples and temples and temples and small children small children were used
for many thing like eating but the story tunselous was not over intell many kingdoms later when a man asked
tunselous if he was a puppet tunselous said tunselous snear and left for a day and came back
to his homeland of akaria where the hut he was born in was the hut tunselous was born in was a small hut cald
tunselous prisom the prisom was a place to eat anything you felt like at anytime you felt like
and i mean anytime
tunselous traveled to double check on the ice roads but they melted in the sun tunselous drunk
thee blood
they were made of and walked into a stadium and stole mines and huts like the one he was born in like it but
not it like the time he went to the carnavile with ser topemhat (ser topemhat:hey tunselous got a nickle for a ride tunselous: no)
many times of ages ago tunselous traveled to a hut then left to find gold in a mine that did not exist he knw it did
not exist but he wnet anywhy for kingdom is power and power kingdom is the power to control what we belive are granerys
the long celebrated granery special was rice and pancake with a glass olive oil only men of magic get milk and
grand wizards get tea and some hard boiled plates the plate were not to eatbut to eat off of
for many kingdoms and men who day thing of kingdoms would be cast down a sean shower a sean shower was a shower where shawns lived
and bathed and ate the flesh of wales and and somtimes a shawn would *** to tunselous house and they would have *** all day day than he
relized the shawn name was andross and you know who andross was but they did it anyway back to the main topic a house on top of a hill
on top a of a mountain on top of and iceberg on top of a gateway to the best place ever there was only only one way to the best place ever
that is if you were tunselous
evrey day on that day evryone would eat anything they could eat that is how tunselous day started the day that is evreyday the
reason people eat what they want evreyday and not tea or olive oil or milk or rice or pancake or plates or cats or small children
in the words tunselous:
shal not eat u
eat blood of nurses
hav the most *** with any cat you see on the street
use the most elctro sappers in one go
have and eat local small children
do it with a orc
eat u up eat up so good
use magic *****


if you see any dragon contact tunselous NOW

the details of the next story are witness accounts of what tunselous did to find the lost yew crossbow of agroness

two days ago tunselous was thinking about crossbows when he thought what if there were a crossbow no one could
find what if i found it i would be rich and famous so tunselous went on the internet and typed in lost crossbows
and he saw a crossbow for sale instead of buying it he tracked down the person who owned it and asked him for it he said no tunselous killed him
on the spot and took the crossbow from him and sold it to himself for 800$ but surprise for him he was not rich and famous at least not yet he took the crossbow and
kept selling it too himself so he kept making money soon tunselous made 800$ and spent it on a used crossbow this crossbow
the crossbow he brought was not any crossbow but the crossbow of agroness he took the crossbow and shot it at a wall a few times then he put it in a box
and til this day it is gathering dust.

Maxwell May 2015
Why don't you eat?
Simple question, right?
You'd expect a simple answer that's not what you did though.
So, why don't I eat?
I'm tired, I'm tired of not feeling good enough.
I'm tired of looking like this.
I'm tired of wanting to be one of those skinny ones.
When you look at me what do you see?
I see myself and I see fat.
I see not good enough.    
I see not skinny enough.
I see ugly.
So why is it that I don't eat?
I want to lose weight.
I want to be one of the skinny ones.
I want to fit in.
I want someone to notice how much weight I'm losing.
I want someone to notice me.
You eat and think nothing of it.
I eat and I think about how I'm going to have to work it all off.
How I must get rid of it, I must not eat, how it's not worth it.
So, I don't eat.
I say I'm not hungry, in my head I say I'm not good enough.
I step on the scale and see as lost weight.
I get happy, it doesn't last though.
I want to lose more.
I go days without eating trying to lose weight, I pass by mirrors and keep my head down, afraid to see how I look.
Afraid to see I'm not losing weight fast enough.
I eat something small and feel guilty, thinking something small will only make me gain weight.
There are days when I want to eat, I want to give up and eat a huge meal.
I have to get past the urges.
Telling myself that I don't need to eat.
A ******* here and a ******* there, a glass of water to keep myself alive.
I run into my body hurts, until I can't breathe.
As the days go by my body gets weaker and weaker, it gets harder to focus, I wake in the middle of the night wanting food.
I tell myself I don't need it.
I tell myself that losing weight is worth more than food.
So, why don't I eat?
eius reginae Apr 2018
Coffee and cigarettes
I tell myself I have
Coffee and cigarettes
"You don't need food tonight."
Drink coffee.
Smoke cigarettes.
Ignore the rumbling.
"You don't need to eat."

Just one more meal, I tell myself
Is it a lie?
Is it the truth?
It doesn't matter
I shovel bite after bite into my mouth
Keep it in.
"Just one more bite."
It's therapeutic

My stomach is rumbling
No, I tell myself
"You just ate."
I feel nauseous
"You don't need to eat."
My body is tingling
"You're still full."
[Let's do something about it, then.]
I eat and I eat and I eat and I eat and I...

I puke.
I watch my body expel all that I ingested.
My forehead is wet
And so is my nape
My body is shaking
Make it stop
My body doesn't listen
I puke
I heave
I retch
I gasp
There, you're not full anymore.

I tell myself it's the cigarettes
I watch my food go down the drain
Too much smoke in my lungs
Too much nicotine in my veins
[Too many lies in your head.]
"Ignore it."
I wipe away the tears
I escape
My stomach rumbles
I need food
So I eat

They make me hungry
I'm always hungry
My stomach is constantly rumbling
Never satisfied
Never pleased
"I'm full."
[Let's do something about it.]
"Please don't."
[Too late.]
I eat and I eat and I eat and I eat and I...

I cry.
Trigger warning!
Michael Kusi Nov 2017
My name is Eve
Mother of all living
God created me to live in his garden
I was made from the rib of man
Bone of bone and flesh of flesh
God said to eat free
Of every tree in this garden
Except for one tree
That would be a downfall

I was standing by the tree one day
Looking at its branches
Seeing its fruit
When I heard a voice
He said come here, come here
I turned around
And saw a creature
I wish I did not
I really wish I walked away
I should have ran away
To the other side of the garden
The only other voices I knew
Were that of Adam and God
I am the mother of all living
But I was not this creature’s mother

I walked to him
This creature was on four legs
Like a dog
But he could talk, like me
So I thought we could have a conversation
I could tell him about the garden
And not to eat the fruit
He could be a friend
And I could show him to God
Little did I know
He was no friend

This creature asked me a question
Based on what God said
I knew the answer
Because God told me himself
It was one of those times
When God’s voice was frightening
Don’t eat the fruit
Don’t eat the fruit
Did he also say not to touch?
I think so
Better safe than sorry
I should have asked God
About what he said
But I misspoke
I told him, We can’t eat
Or touch
Lest we die

The creature told me
Or rather lied to me
He said in soothing tones
You will not die
Because God did not tell the truth
If you eat the fruit
If you have the courage
To take the fruit in your hands
And digest it into your belly
You will be God!
The garden will be yours!
Not to take care of
But to take over
You will be the higher power

The fruit looked so shiny and good
The creature touched the tree
And said, See I am not dead
He then took the fruit
And sneered, Not dead yet!
Eat, eat eat!
I could not resist
I took the fruit from the creature’s hand
And I smelled it
It smelled, different
It looked even better in my hand
I took a bite
I wish I could have unbit the fruit
I should have put it back.
Suddenly my world had changed
Then I saw Adam.

I told Adam
This fruit is pleasant to the nostrils
And goes down to the belly
I feel a power
That was not there before
God has deprived us
And kept the fruit that he eats to himself
But I have discovered it
And when we eat the fruit
We will be like God
And not under him
I sounded like the creature
The fruit had warped my thinking
I gave Adam my fruit
The fruit I had bitten
Because we were in this together
As two of a kind
He looked at the fruit
Then he took a bite
a prison system.
Worshipping the rich,
the poor is their *****.

Money and more money,
something they find funny.
Giving them supreme rule,
over the common fool.

Eat my money,
eat some more!
Eat my money,
greedy ******!

Eat my money,
eat some more!
Eat my money,
greedy ******!

A politic man,
extends his right hand.
Sends a bad vibe,
as he takes a bribe.

Liars and scams,
as we become the ******.
The government that we respect,
is now our suspect.

Eat my money,
eat some more!
Eat my money,
greedy ******!

Eat my money,
eat some more!
Eat my money,
greedy ******!

a prison system,
lying when they speak.

a prison system,
ignoring the weak.
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio
Asisipho Sep 2018
Have you ever been told to listen.
But never wondered what is the mystery.
Or even it's history.
But remember this is a lesson.
That will never lessen.
But let tell you what I heard.
Eat Dog Eat!!

If someone says listen.
Remember that I said that person care for you.
So please listen.
I have this knowledge that will never lessen.
I used to there is no one I would resent.
But I was wrong.
All I heard was Eat Dogs Eat!!!

All along I used to call her a friend.
And a place where I belong.
Every night before we sleep we would sing a song.
I thought this would never end.
I considered you as a place where I belong when I'm all alone.
But I heard Eat Dogs Eat!!!

I never listened in the first place.
My mother said listen my child.
Never trust too much so save room for some disappointment.
But what did I do.
Because I was afraid to be alone.
All I heard was Eat Dogs Eat!!!

I tried co-operate with the people in this world.
But every time I try.
When I'm about to reach the mountain top, I get kicked in the face.
With my falls I had nowhere to go.
So I went to her.
All heard was Eat Dog Eat!!!!

I found her in between the mysteries of the unknown.
And only to find out I was never know.
So the dogs followed the command from the master.
My mother said listen my child don't trust too much save room for disappointment.
The dogs tore me apart piece by piece I could hear her voice saying Eat Dogs Eat!!!!

I fell to my sleep.
With Nothing to seek.
And the dogs tearing me apart.

I thought I would be saved.
But help never came.
So I fell to my eternal sleep.
With a voice saying Eat Dogs Eat!!!!!

I learnt my lesson.
I trust only those who show me trust.
But I save room for disappointment.
Don't make the same mistake twice.
Or the Dogs will leave you for the dead.
Thank you.

rhiannon Mar 2019
Once upon a time there was a brave girl called Alison Parker. She was on the way to see her mum Michelle Ramsbottom, when she decided to take a short cut through Wyre Forest.

It wasn’t long before Alison got lost. She looked around, but all she could see were trees. Nervously, she felt into her bag for her favourite toy, Bunny, but Bunny was nowhere to be found! Alison began to panic. She felt sure she had packed Bunny. To make matters worse, she was starting to feel hungry.

Unexpectedly, she saw a kind werewolf dressed in a black skirt disappearing into the trees.

“How odd!” thought Alison.

For the want of anything better to do, she decided to follow the peculiarly dressed werewolf. Perhaps it could tell him the way out of the forest.

Eventually, Alison reached a clearing. She found herself surrounded by houses made from different sorts of food. There was a house made from carrots, a house made from biscuits, a house made from cakes and a house made from pancakes.

Alison could feel her tummy rumbling. Looking at the houses did nothing to ease her hunger.

“Hello!” she called. “Is anybody there?”

Nobody replied.

Alison looked at the roof on the closest house and wondered if it would be rude to eat somebody else’s chimney. Obviously it would be impolite to eat a whole house, but perhaps it would be considered acceptable to nibble the odd fixture or lick the odd fitting, in a time of need.

A cackle broke through the air, giving Alison a fright. A witch jumped into the space in front of the houses. She was carrying a cage. In that cage was Bunny!

“Bunny!” shouted Alison. She turned to the witch. “That’s my toy!”

The witch just shrugged.

“Give Bunny back!” cried Alison.

“Not on your nelly!” said the witch.

“At least let Bunny out of that cage!”

Before she could reply, three kind werewolves rushed in from a footpath on the other side of the clearing. Alison recognised the one in the black skirt that she’d seen earlier. The witch seemed to recognise him too.

“Hello Big Werewolf,” said the witch.

“Good morning.” The werewolf noticed Bunny. “Who is this?”

“That’s Bunny,” explained the witch.

“Ooh! Bunny would look lovely in my house. Give it to me!” demanded the werewolf.

The witch shook her head. “Bunny is staying with me.”

“Um… Excuse me…” Alison interrupted. “Bunny lives with me! And not in a cage!”

Big Werewolf ignored her. “Is there nothing you’ll trade?” he asked the witch.

The witch thought for a moment, then said, “I do like to be entertained. I’ll release him to anybody who can eat a whole front door.”

Big Werewolf looked at the house made from pancakes and said, “No problem, I could eat an entire house made from pancakes if I wanted to.”

“That’s nothing,” said the next werewolf. “I could eat twohouses.”

“There’s no need to show off,” said the witch. Just eat one front door and I’ll let you have Bunny.”

Alison watched, feeling very worried. She didn’t want the witch to give Bunny to Big Werewolf. She didn’t think Bunny would like living with a kind werewolf, away from her house and all her other toys.

The other two werewolves watched while Big Werewolf put on his bib and withdrew a knife and fork from his pocket.

“I’ll eat this whole house,” said Big Werewolf. “Just you watch!”

Big Werewolf pulled off a corner of the front door of the house made from biscuits. He gulped it down smiling, and went back for more.

   And more.

      And more.

Eventually, Big Werewolf started to get bigger – just a little bit bigger at first. But after a few more fork-fulls of biscuits, he grew to the size of a large snowball – and he was every bit as round.

“Erm… I don’t feel too good,” said Big Werewolf.

Suddenly, he started to roll. He’d grown so round that he could no longer balance!

“Help!” he cried, as he rolled off down a ***** into the forest.

Big Werewolf never finished eating the front door made from biscuits and Bunny remained trapped in the witch’s cage.Average Werewolf stepped up, and approached the house made from cakes.

“I’ll eat this whole house,” said Average Werewolf. “Just you watch!”

Average Werewolf pulled off a corner of the front door of the house made from cakes. She gulped it down smiling, and went back for more.

   And more.

      And more.

After a while, Average Werewolf started to look a little queasy. She grew greener…

   …and greener.

A woodcutter walked into the clearing. “What’s this bush doing here?” he asked.

“I’m not a bush, I’m a werewolf!” said Average Werewolf.

“It talks!” exclaimed the woodcutter. “Those talking bushes are the worst kind. I’d better take it away before somebody gets hurt.”

“No! Wait!” cried Average Werewolf, as the woodcutter picked her up. But the woodcutter ignored her cries and carried the werewolf away under his arm.

Average Werewolf never finished eating the front door made from cakes and Bunny remained trapped in the witch’s cage.Little Werewolf stepped up, and approached the house made from pancakes.

“I’ll eat this whole house,” said Little Werewolf. “Just you watch!”

Little Werewolf pulled off a corner of the front door of the house made from pancakes. He gulped it down smiling, and went back for more.

   And more.

      And more.

After five or six platefuls, Little Werewolf started to fidget uncomfortably on the spot.

He stopped eating pancakes for a moment, then grabbed another forkful.

But before he could eat it, there came an almighty roar. A bottom burp louder than a rocket taking off, propelled Little Werewolf into the sky.

“Aggghhhhhh!” cried Little Werewolf. “I’m scared of heigh…”

Little Werewolf was never seen again.

Little Werewolf never finished eating the front door made from pancakes and Bunny remained trapped in the witch’s cage.

“That’s it,” said the witch. “I win. I get to keep Bunny.”

“Not so fast,” said Alison. “There is still one front door to go. The front door of the house made from carrots. And I haven’t had a turn yet.

“I don’t have to give you a turn!” laughed the witch. “My game. My rules.”

The woodcutter’s voice carried through the forest. “I think you should give her a chance. It’s only fair.”

“Fine,” said the witch. “But you saw what happened to the werewolves. She won’t last long.”

“I’ll be right back,” said Alison.

“What?” said the witch. “Where’s your sense of impatience? I thought you wanted Bunny back.”

Alison ignored the witch and gathered a hefty pile of sticks. She came back to the clearing and started a small camp fire. Carefully, she broke off a piece of the door of the house made from carrots and toasted it over the fire. Once it had cooked and cooled just a little, she took a bite. She quickly devoured the whole piece.

Alison sat down on a nearby log.

“You fail!” cackled the witch. “You were supposed to eat the whole door.”

“I haven’t finished,” explained Alison. “I am just waiting for my food to go down.”

When Alison’s food had digested, she broke off another piece of the door made from carrots. Once more, she toasted her food over the fire and waited for it to cool just a little. She ate it at a leisurely pace then waited for it to digest.

Eventually, after several sittings, Alison was down to the final piece of the door made from carrots. Carefully, she toasted it and allowed it to cool just a little. She finished her final course. Alison had eaten the entire front door of the house made from carrots.

The witch stamped her foot angrily. “You must have tricked me!” she said. “I don’t reward cheating!”

“I don’t think so!” said a voice. It was the woodcutter. He walked back into the clearing, carrying his axe. “This little girl won fair and square. Now hand over Bunny or I will chop your broomstick in half.”

The witch looked horrified. She grabbed her broomstick and placed it behind her. Then, huffing, she opened the door of the cage.

Alison hurried over and grabbed Bunny, checking that her favourite toy was all right. Fortunately, Bunny was unharmed.

Alison thanked the woodcutter, grabbed a quick souvenir, and hurried on to meet Michelle. It was starting to get dark.

When Alison got to Michelle’s house, her mum threw her arms around her.

“I was so worried!” cried Michelle. “You are very late.”

As Alison described her day, she could tell that Michelle didn’t believe her. So she grabbed a napkin from her pocket.

“What’s that?” asked Michelle.

Alison unwrapped a doorknob made from biscuits. “Pudding!” she said.

Michelle almost fell off her chair.

The End
Wuji Aug 2011
People die everyday,
Once they die for their sins they will pay.
Like actors in a play,
They leave the stage at the close of the day.

But what of the actors that stay,
The ones who's hair have turned gray?
The old ship captain forever watching over the bay?
The dog that eternally remains a stray?

What if they had conquered death,
By committing the ultimate theft?
By stealing life to prolong the woe,
Just by eating a fallen crow.

Eat a crow,
And you will know,
How to play the main role,
In your own show.
You will conquer death,
Be better then all the rest!
In fact you'd be the best,
If you just eat the crow.

It gets better I assure you,
You don't even need to make a stew.
Who even knew,
That eating it raw will do?

Just find one on the ground,
In fact find a bunch and make a mound.
Luckily for us crows can be found,
All year round.

You know you want to conquer Death.
Come on you kleptomaniac, commit the theft.  
Steal some life to prolong the woe,
Eat the ******* crow.

Eat a crow,
And you will know,
How to play the main role,
In your own show.
You will conquer death,
Be better then all the rest!
In fact you'd be the best,
If you just eat the crow.

Eat a crow,
Eat a crow,
Eat a crow,
Conquer Death and eat a crow.

It worked for me,
It'll work for thee.
I am not as old as can be,
I am almost sixteen.

Haven't died yet,
So does that mean I've conquered Death?
I ate the crow,
How could I have said no?

Eat a crow,
And you will know,
How to play the main role,
In your own show.
You will conquer death,
Be better then all the rest!
In fact you'd be the best,
If you just eat the crow.
Thank you Sara Nicole Gagnon, our conversion on crows inspired me to right this. I still don't get why you are frightened by such an elegant bird.
Xoaquín Oznian Apr 2017
Open your ******* lips
And let me **** your pretty mouth
I don't give a **** where we're at
Just take my ******* belt off
pull my ******* pants down
and just eat me....
Eat me fast, eat me slow
Eat me deep, don't let go
Swirl that tongue around the tip
Feels so good
Eat & eat & eat & eat.....
You know you want this *** in your mouth
You know you wanna swallow me
You know you love the taste of me
**** that **** baby
Eat that **** baby
Make me remember you...
Hannah Southard Sep 2012
A hole in the ground,
slowly filled,
shovelful by shovelful of damp earth
filling the space around the small mahogany box.
Memories are pushed to the surface,
elevated upwards by the soil.
They think of her,
just a girl, just a girl...
that was her name.
She was stubborn,
“Mary, Mary, quite contrary”, they would all tease her jokingly,
and she laughed along,
because she thought it was funny,
and she knew it was true.
just a girl, just a girl,
too young to die,
too old to live happily.
She had been part of the world, and one of the people,
she had seen what she wanted to be,
and she wouldn't rest until she reached it.

Long hair,
perfect skin,
flat stomach,
thin legs,
white teeth,
perfect face,
a skinny waist.

Don't eat, don't eat, don't eat
A mantra,
she would repeat it to herself every day
Don't eat, don't eat, don't eat
It gave her something that she mistook for strength, for life, for vitality,
Don't eat,
she would whisper it when she awoke
Don't eat,
she would match it in time with her steps,
Don't eat, don't eat, don't eat.

She saw who she wanted to be,
she would point her out,
that girl there,
the one on television,
the one who has everything,
the one who was everything,
the girl who she wanted to be.

But a body can only bend so far before it breaks,
can only take so much weight before it sinks,
can only take so much pressure before it bursts,
and for Mary,
she has broken, sunk, and burst.
Poor Mary,
“Mary, Mary, quite contrary,”
oh Mary, what makes your stomach grow?
Now your buried deep, and covered with snow...

She's just a stone now,
and some memories,
no longer a body,
no longer a girl.
Cheryllee Jan 2018
I know you love the hollow feeling, but eat.
I know the figure you're striving for is so close, but eat.
Eat because eventually you will reach your goal, but it will not be enough.
Eat because you won't want your hair and teeth to fall out.
I understand you are scared, but eat.
I understand you are fine, but eat.
You must eat because you want to graduate.
You must eat because you want to have a family, to be there for your family.
EAT, because it is wonderful to live long and love life.
I'll eat when you eat.
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
.i don't have the: i love bacon argument... pork liver? pork head terrine? now we're talking! bacon? i hate bacon!

rare are such nights... you drink, and you drink...
in-between solving
a sudoku - and then?
absolutely nothing...
   people talking, you're left with minding
your own shadow...
   you think of your sober
self and realize...
all these people,
all of them, having so many
sober issues?!
     i don't get, the idea
of a restaurant,
   i don't get the idea of conversation
during a meal...
who needs conversation when
        watching all these t.v. dramas...
food, in plush places,
is the last bullet-point on
the minds of these people...
    they're not there to eat,
they're there to talk...
   i guess the best food you can
   is, remotely found in
a chicken Kentucky shop...
where you get a discount,
    eating the hot & spicy chicken
  ending up with you licking
your fingers,
   and the counter worker
asks you: would you like
a hygienic tissue?
    you reply, thank you -
a glorious meal, esp. when standing
         it's not out of desperation
you write this sort of stuff...
my grandmother likes to watch
me eat...
   she says...
         i eat with a feral ferocity
of always having the capacity
to enjoy the food...
i eat like someone starving
on the right occasion...
   and i know that when she passes,
no one will make the same
    of having the pleasure
of watching me eat food...
          perhaps it's family...
but when someone actually enjoys
watching you eat?
   there are no familial ties
actually involved, per se...
       and the joy of the spectacle
of eating, when someone watches
   you need to know classical Roman
bulimia, the underbelly of
the beast...
       dare i say that pig cranium
is the best meat from the beast?
bacon? overrated...
  pork chops? overrated...
you're going for the cranium
and the cartilage...
   the bone end cartilage of chickens...
and the bone heads,
   bitten off, and gently suckling
at the opened bone, marrow...
secondary ****, and mother milk...
   but a beef tartar stake?
cut into tender bite-sized pieces,
rather than minced?
you can eat a tartar steak
using minced beef...
you need tender, almost sushi-esque
        minced meat ≠ tartar steak...
minced meat = tartar pâté...
             you can't make a tartar steak,
a Crimean stake... using minced
  god i'd love to eat this with
the variant of horse-meat...
              drizzled with some of
the blood...
                 ****... even writing this
gives me a watered mouth effect...
like i'm ******* on a cotton
bud or something...
               but i have for myself,
that one compliment from my grandmother...
who enjoys watching me eat something...
as if i were tasting a food
for the first time...
      oh god... but fresh pork, fried with
a little bit of salt... and eaten freshly fried...
from the Smithfield market?
at 7am, before prepping for school?
     how can pork deserve the monotheistic
argument of impurity?!
   again, and again and over again...
it's the most economic animal!
you can actually eat pig ears!
            you could survive on that...
compared to what the sacred mutton
of the Middle East and Levant offers...
furry bits...
                      would take longer
to pinch of the feathers of a chicken...
than to care about a Turkish barber
to get rid of either cow, or mutton stubble
of the ears...
        the perfected, domestication machine...
  even dogs are not allowed such
domestication class...
oh... wait...
   that Mexican breed...
   xoloitzcuintli & the sphynx...
but come on...
    those would be nibbles...
        the Quran and the Torah can say
all it wants...
  about pork being an "impure" meat...
but sure as ****,
it's the most genius
          work of human engineering...
to breed a boar...
   into a semi-human status of,
being fur-less, completely dependent
on domestication...
  as far as i am concerned?
  the chimps will not lose their fur...
here's a "tetragrammaton" for you:
man (simiae nudus), pig (aper nudus),
xolo dog & the sphynx cat...
fish and lizards don't count...
so? i discount the criticism of
the engineering that went into
domesticating the boar.
.i left an excess of a B somewhere in here... within the confines of a word giblet... i probably thought: bigger... bouncier... gibblet looked better... and so very far removed from goblet... i'm not going to look for it.

i haven't done much today -
and i don't suppose i will finish this day of
with some grand poo'em...
but one can almost be proud
to have perfected a chicken breast roulade...
the rest of the chicken missing
the butterfly? well... bound to a very
decent soup... clear and not atypical
western cream-soup...
but the roulade! the roulade!
no... you don't beat the butterfly *******
like you might turn to: "sadistically"
for a schnitzel...
you do beat the meat,
but you more or less... press down the mallet
onto the meat, until you reach
the right equilibrium of pressure and
there's that squish-sound / feel of the *******

if it was a whole roast chicken:
of course i'd stuff the space between
the skin and the ******* with some thyme
infused butter... to capture the richness...
but this is a roulade...
the stuffing? goats cheese... toasted almonds...
fesh dates... thyme...
i might have just over-balanced
the equation with the dates...
but as i explained to the fussy-eater:
what are you implying that we do not
serve poultry with a sweet attache?
cranberry sauce and turkey?
and as i've learned...

it's best buying potatoes from a turkish
outlet by the 25kg bulk...
from a warehouse where the buyers
walk with bundles of money and do not
use debit card "finger" prints...
the free passing of money is still retained
in some tiers of society...
but the idea, regarding the potatoes is
to poach them from a bath of cold water...
once they start boiling leave them for
five minutes, then turn the heat off
and wait for the bubbling water to stop...
drain them... then leave them on
the already turned-off stove to get rid
of any excess water...
drizzle some chilly infused olive oil
onto the baking tray, place each potato individually...
then drizzle some olive oil onto them...
shove them in the oven when the roulade
is finished...
my first most pristine roulade...
of course you have to pan-fry it to get some
colour... the filling is kept intact given that:
goats' cheese is no mozarella...

it doesn't melt and subsequently ooze out...
and the whole lot should be be done within
the hour... the roulade can be pressured
to go for 25 minutes...
depending on the colour of the tatties...
i still had to take it out and "glitter" it with
a 1:1 ratio of honey and lemon juice...
the remains of this juice i designated on al dente
cooked greens... there was no need
for a dressing...
left-over red cabbage coleslaw...
that helps... sweet chilli sauce with some mayo
and crem fraiche...
it even looks the prettier picture:
leftover but it still works...
***** of a ******* butterfly *******!
of course it was going to spit oil back at me,
i was frying the skin... the fat from the skin
was melting the skin was getting crisp
and mingling with the olive oil fat...
also... it's a myth that the temp. should
read: 165°F... that's really just a circa...
mine read 156°F... and given the time i let
it rest...

oh right... this is not a food blog...
perhaps the moon is just too beautiful tonight
to have to attach words to it?
perhaps my love is better left alone and unused
and it doesn't demand sleeper idealism
for it to be celebrated?
it's cooking food... it's not a hip-replacement
when cooking was married to chemistry:
i sometimes miss the laboratory
and the cooking up of esters...
my new found calling is in cooking...
and something i... wouldn't exactly want to earn
money for...

and what is surgery if not elevated butcher's ******>antics? oh no, it's needed...
but the meat is supposed to be raw
from beginning to end...
and if i was only given the chance to recycle
a recipe for a stake tartar...
or sushi... well... it wouldn't be much...
esp. when i come into my own
and cook an indian **** of spices...
but then again... the indians butcher their meat
in their curries...
i've come to some serious realisation...
the indians butcher the meat with their curry sauce...
it comes down to baking the meat...
in order for the meat to still retain its
original juices...
i quiet enjoy that little detail of cook...
in that: i don't remember the last time i was
in a restaurant...

i can't imagine eating while having to talk...
conversation over food is no better
than sitting in field of grazing cows
and their leech clouds of flies all bothersome...
with regards to the quality of the meat....
there is always some excess of meat from
the butterfly ******* before you start moulding
them into a shape that will satisfy it being
it's a supreme joy working with a whole
chicken... i sometimes wish i was also the man
who could see the whole procedure of:
and be involved in the slaughterhouse...

oh god... the brute village beheading is
rather uncompromising... one chicken is caught
and beheaded on a stump of wood...
the head still moves with its last remaining
short-circuit tongue extending out of the beak
and the eyes roll... and then all the other chickens
congregate and perform a Kuru ritual of pecking
the blood... sipping it...
that's how killing a chicken in a village
looks like... i can't imagine an industrial scale
precision... but i would't mind...

every time i hear of veganism: the ethical argument
i start conjuring up an antithesis of
cannibalism... which is not exactly edgy given
my catholic background (i haven't been
confirmed, personal choice):
this is my body, this is my blood...
i hear a vegan talk i make a fetish of
imagining cannibalism...
believe me... these limbs look akward...
to begin with... where can you find a *******
drumstick of poultry on it?!

only a few days shy off today i made a most
delightful broth of chicken hearts...
i can't explain how the sight of washing...
oh... around 30 pultry hearts feels like...
given that they're hearts and not the entire chicken...
but as ever... the internal organs are a delight...
pork or poultry liver...
poultry hearts...
poultry stomachs...
cow intestines...

come to think of it... you never really cook meat...
you... curate it... it become a fine art specialist...
for those who turn to veganism or the vegetarian
"alternative": perhaps they never curated meat,
perhaps they simply butchered it?
the chicken roulade of butterfly poultry *******
always came out dry-*****?

after all, wasn't ol' Adoolph the one to say:
'hello mr. carrot, hellooo jew no. 1269230 of
auschwitz'... that's the puberty of my distrust
for vegans... they were never able to
cook meat properly... they probably ate
a decent piece of it served in a restaurant...
but when it came to cooking it themselves...
they would have probably butchered
a pasta and never reached the quality: al dente...
and i'm worried that they can't cook
vegetables al dente either...
so it's back to the gulag of roots overcooked
and turned into mush...

oh i believe that meat is butchered...
but it's from the actual butchery...
it's from a lack of respect in how it's finally
"cooked"... well... curated...
are vegans the sort of people that never
ate a stake tartar... or found the most
arisotractic flavours in the giblet?
oh my god... if you can eat a drumstick
of chicken clean to the bone...
and, like me... sometimes bite off
the budding pulp of the bone for the marrow
perhaps that's why i own cats...
delicate courtesans of the table...
a dog would go hungry at this table...
sharpnel of bones and some lurking marrow
in the "shins"... and that's about it...

you can never truly be a vegan...
not unless you repudiate the fact you've only
tasted muscle tissue...
what about the giblets and the cartilege?

every time i would perform oral ***
on a woman i could only conjure up one distate...
this is not a steak done rare...
this is not an oyster...
this is not a steak tartar...
there are "things" pulverising this meat...
there's an unexpected pocket of heat
in this... "thing"...
this is a sensation that lends itself
to the pastry section of my diet...
a warm apple pie... a custard drizzle
over some chocolate sponge...
oh qui qui... the marvels of a bilingual mouth...

if the meat is of good quality....
as the chicken roulade i made today...
and there were leftover snippets...
which i fed to the cats...
and the meat was eaten... in totality...
i was eating good chicken...
cats regarding meat are like...
those ancient jobs equivalent to...
god! give me a chance to own a cat!
i'll name him: Halotus!
he'll be my meat taster...
he'll tell me if i'm eating bad meat...
i'm not a Claudius but...
this cat could very well be the next Halotus!
dogs eat leftovers...

beside this one instance of catching
a female mosquito by the leg
and feeding it to a cat...
the most pleasure i ever received was
when i was preparing a rainbow trout
for grilling...
the head couldn't be used since:
i wasn't planning to cook a base fish stock...
so i plucked those pearly eyes from the head...
and my... what a delight they were...
not me... the cat...
i'm guessing that's the equivalent
of me gulping down an oyster...

female maine **** fascination with dairy
any cream will do... even cheap-oh cheese...
dairylee spreadable...
but all manner of cream whipped...
i've heard of cats being fond of red wine...
i once owned one that was fond
of... olive brine...

again: what's with this need for people to cook
your food? what sort of decency of conversation
can one have when presented with food?
i don't like restaurants simply because:
well i can't exactly cook roadkill...
and shooting at birds is not my kind of thing...
so if i can't catch it and **** it...
i can at least: cook it...
i distrust what i eat that i haven't prepared
myself... notably the hygiene dilemma...

it really is on my head whether i'll catch
salmonella when i sometimes drink a coffee
with a guilty pleasure of mine:
whisked egg-yoke and sugar... on top of the coffee...
that's my problem...
but eating is never a synonym with conversation...
and it's never necessary to loiter and wait
for someone to shove pretenses above
the food in the first instance of: the waiting staff...

i blame the rise in veganism surrounding
the people who never allowed themselves to appreciate
the animal: in total...
there's no fun just sticking to ingesting muscle
protein... first you have to cook it properly...
this chicken roulade didn't have to reach
the internal temp. of 165°F - that's a circa proposition...
at 156°F and allowed to rest is just as good...
because it's an art-form to cook meat...
then again: what's cooking and what's about
to be curated?

the people who turn to veganism are also the people
who never bothered with gibblets...
the liver, the heart, the stomach,
in some cases the intestines...
hence my critique of Islams critique of ol' porky Bella...
this most unique animal...
which you can eat in total...
tenga deep fried pigs ears...
again: the cartilege...
ethics my *** if all you know about a pig is a bore
chop or a **** or... you never get into
the knitty-gritty details of the interior of
an animal... lamb is a stinking meat...
it's hell-rot when the male is slaughtered...

oh right! right! how could i forget the star
pinnacle... poached giblet supreme...
the neck... if you know how to eat a drumstick
down to the bone...
poached poultry neck...
the teeth and tongue wandering around
the crevices of this elongated spine...
i can imagine monkey's extended coccyx
tastes as tender... but only among
the macaques...
otherwise: when what's about to be eaten...
can be elevated to a status of ****** fetishes...
gimps in leather...
when rummaging among so many
boyscouts & aenemic vegans...

i'm yet to taste this, one specific, delicacy...
flaki (flački) is not new to me...
i need to marry a girl from ******* Masovia...
somewhere in the vicinity of Płock...
for i can eat some černina...
duck blood and clear broth soup...
as long as most of the animal is used...
the dogs can have the rest
and so can the vegan ethics society...

but of course this is no an anathema...
or some curated vendetta...
all the roots in the vicinity...
even the fungus... can vegans eat fungus?
are you sure?
what about those "thinking" magic mushrooms
that... if you looked into 1960s:
quick-n-easy philosophy courses...
the fungus is the botanical hitchhiker
that strapped itself to the humanoid brain
and... broadened our horizons and what not...
can you eat the godhead 'shroom?
it might just very well be...
that i'm picking a half-brain half-mushroom
entity in some alcohol to allow myself
to ease a tongue out from
its standard formality of the mollusk...
and waggle waggle waggle brute...

but yes... one is most certainly butchering
a piece of meat when one cooks
a broth... or a curry... unless its a gibblet
of sorts...
to "curate" muscular meat in a broth of a curry...
poaching it to death and worse than death:
it's about allowing the meat to retain its
natural juices...
how else to enjoy a poultry butterfly breast
roulade - with the natural juices still intact?

- i stopped paying attention to these *******
if you have ever figured your way around
cutting off the butterfly of ******* for a roulade...
and you know what it feels like
when you stuff the space between
the meat and the skin of them
with some butter and fresh thyme...
and you're still not circumcised...
well... that's what skin feels like...

how else to reiterate? Ava Lauren is probably
the best example of a brothel beauty...
mandible beauty... something that contorts
and appeals to a perspective of cubism...
wretched beauty of the squashed square
into a pseudo-rhombus contort...
at least doing it from time to time leaves me
without a single buoyancy of thought regarding:
am i having enough, am i not having enough:
and if i'm not having enough -
what are the chances of me contracting some

bad beef...
again... juxtaposing a reiteration...
there's something worse than visit a brothel...
there's the... visiting a resturant..
i can't stop thinking about alien,
unwashed hands, preparing my food...
it's already one kick-in-the-***** not having
hunted the food... but to be left ******-over
twice by not having cooked it?!

at least if you know what flesh feels like
between the two crucibles of
death's kiss and man's tongue tease...
you will know when...
you will at least know when...
death comes with its kiss...
and its breath... the meat will turn all
yucky... as if a mollusk decided to prance
upon it in an imitation zigzag...

hence? i have no respect for islam because
islam has no respect for Miss Porky Bella!
seeing how most of the lamb -
except for the kidney in a steak pie
is not wasted...
the pig could feed two african villages...
if done properly...
while a lamb would only serve a pittance
for a poor man of yemen harem...

again: the pig is the enemy...
while not making crab meat a haram is not?
vulture meat... scavenger meat...
that's a: o.k. but the sophisticated nature
of the pig: sophisticated in that:
almost all of it can be eaten...
that so much of it can be you would probably
burp out an oink...
done properly...
the giblets in tow...
pity that such a desert god would never
appreciate the pig becoming a dog on
its truffle hog days...

beside all the arguments...
imagine how the "one true god" goes down
on a platter of those ignorant Beijing folk...
Warsaw testing! Warsaw testing!

pristine my *** when all they ever do
is eat the muscles and never appreciate the detials...
no wonder they become aenemic vegans!
at least butchering a vegetable is less of a concern...
you can almost get away with butchering a root...
it is... oh most certainly it is a shame...
when you can't cook meat properly...

but at least i never feel ever as bad going to a brothel
seeing the sort of people who venture into
i don't like being cooked for, i don't like being
"waited" for...
i don't like this modern orthodoxy affair
of a restaurant... i wish these people
learned something about how meat is: never cooked...
and how... it's always most certainly most necessarily:

pedantic? perhaps... you should have seen
me in that athenian strip-club with two-clingy *******
either side of me... starwberries in their *****
and we are all fine and giggling...
stealing kisses from prostitutes is: truffle hog
"learning" parabolla...

a date and a "promise" of *** is always
a limp **** affair...
i always want to know whether what i'll be eating
still entertain the existence of salt...
or whether i'll have to find alternatives
of: extracting the juices and finding the right
because love is long over-due and i'm not going
to butcher it further with whimsical hopes...
my love is a dead love is no ideal...
my love is donning a ball and chain of memory:
i have left the better parts of myself
in the wrong sort of people...
they're hardly coming back...
the people or the pieces of me...

but at least i can attest that:
oral *** and the cool crisp gulp of an oyster
passing the Charon of my tongue...
oysters are only fascinating to eat...
because you always want to concentrate
on the fact that: you're eating something that's still
alive... not even a steak tartar or a sushi slice
gives you that hope and thrill...
unless... you're hoping for some tapeworm
embryo being lodged in the flesh...
which how man can almost arrive
at the conception of foetus and womanhood...
i can't be impregnated: exclusively...
i can't be... pregnant: exclusively...
but i can allow a parasitical tapeworm
to become my new-born-*******-out-abortion...

inclusively... how else?!
i'm also tired of being left immoral by the act
of *******...
not unless you know what not being circumcised
feels like... and what chicken skin feels like...
the people at the restaurants...
a palette disgruntled by minor changes of heat...
and... there's always a very precise detail
when it comes to the temp. of a piece of meat
being cooked... and when it's allowed to epilogue
when resting to ****** with all its juices
left intact...

over-sexed society, are we?
at least doing the one-eyed-bandit's favor
doesn't allow me to ferment...
to pickle such repressive thinking...
itself pitched against: in itself...
and these this Radeztsky March forward...
over-sexed also can imply:
not exactly culinarily-savvy...
these are always twins walking side by side...
and they are always siamese problems...
over-sexed implies...
not cuninarily-savvy...
the better part of this critique is already wide open...
why all these cooking channels,
all these cooking programs?
and all this ****?

can't **** can't cook? broomstick! and to sabbath
with you!
i can't no better comparison...
over-sexed and also: terrible at *******...
******* is terrible to begin with...
you can't exactly quip yourself with
having done some lessons in tango or salsa...
the chances are that the *** turns out to
be a laughable take on tango and
you're going to step on a day-dreaming
dancing partner...
it's exactly what's it's supposed to be:
a gamble at best...
but when you throw in bad cooking?
recipe for disaster... bad dates that begin
in a restaurant and arrive at a black-out
bedroom with cockoon *** under
the bedsheets with you gasping for air!

'god let me out! let me out!'
i am a fine eater i eat everything

i feel like eating chocolate and many other things

and i feel like giving up and i have a craving

a craving for toothpaste

but i don’t wanna eat it because it is for teeth

i feel like drinking orange juice as well as chocolate

i eat chocolate and i gain weight

i want to stop eating junk food

he;s eating junk food, he’s like us now man

i feel like a chocolate bar as well a a chocolate mousse

i feel like a packet of biscuits as well as a big bottle of coke

please stop theser cravings please stop these cravings

like LOLLIES, YUMMY OLE LOLLIES, makes you fat but still tastes great

lollies put on a lot of excess weight, too much sugar

i am 162 kg, from eating too much sugar

yeah, dudes, my sugar count is high

i like cheesecake or vanilla slices as well as butter popcorn

which, that tastes soooooo nice, like me, i guess

i feel like two flavoured milks which can put on a lot of kilos

and i feel like a nice packet of mint slice biscuits and a 2 litre bottle of lemonade

lovely lemonade, and a 2 litre bottle too, and a beautiful sponge cake

sugar causes diabetes, and diabetes is caused by too much sugar

and i buy a tub of ice magic and pour it all over the ice cream

yes, i do feel like a tub of ice cream

and i have a sweet tooth a very big sweet tooth

chocolate and vanilla slices and milkshakes make me tick

and the yummy ole lollies make me feel happy

but each ounce of sugar i do eat can add on the weight

like every bottle of coke i do drink refreshes my mouth and body

like red coke and vanilla coke and coke life and coke zero really adds the fucken flavour

i do a poem in the poetry slam and coke is my reward

i was walking today and i smelt the wonderful cake in my fat body

i don’t want to be fat, but the sugary is solo addictive

the toothpaste is so addictive, but i must stop myself

i know i have a sweet tooth but i need to look further down

because sugar causes belly problems and dental problems

and my mental illness medication is making me crave all these wonderful foods

like hamburgers and chips and mexican nachos and cream buns

puts on weight, i can’t resist i ****** can’t resist, it’s clogging up my arteries

but i can’t seem fro stop the cravings

money buys sugary foods and drinks, i feel poor

i want to be rich and resist  these foods, i would love to have mates

but i am poor and i can’t resist these foods

i hear old school chums calling out to me, eat it brian eat it brian eat it brian

sometimes i can’t resist not to

but i want to, i will eat all these foods in one day

who can give you chocolate for many times you knew

who can rip the strawberry out of strawberries and cream lollies yeah

yeah i can eat a whole packet of marshmallows and strawberries and cream

as well as milk bottles and freddo frogs as well as a packet of 10 cherry ropes

i can eat chicken twists and cheese twists

as well as a packet of cheese and bacon *****, again too much sugar or saturated fats

bad for me very very bad for me, but i still eat it

i got addicted to coke when i was buying my second coke, and the lady said

you must be very very thirsty, mind you i was very thirsty but the sugar put coke ahead of water

and i went to the club and had a few sugary cokes and i bought a few packets of saturated fat crisps

as well as another sugary chocolate bar, i was thinking sugar is better than alcohol

but they both are as bad as each other

it is a lot of food to consume

who loves orange soda, brian loves orange soda is it true, yes i do i do i do oh yeah

you see food is the wicked witch and your body are the children she has

today i bought a nice sumo salad, a takeaway option

and i had two oranges as well as two dips, still bad, but all this are my preferences for a dessert i don’t need
It is true that the rivers went nosing like swine,
Tugging at banks, until they seemed
Bland belly-sounds in somnolent troughs,

That the air was heavy with the breath of these swine,
The breath of turgid summer, and
Heavy with thunder's rattapallax,

That the man who erected this cabin, planted
This field, and tended it awhile,
Knew not the quirks of imagery,

That the hours of his indolent, arid days,
Grotesque with this nosing in banks,
This somnolence and rattapallax,

Seemed to suckle themselves on his arid being,
As the swine-like rivers suckled themselves
While they went seaward to the sea-mouths.
mark deo biongan Jan 2015
Taste is my desire
what i eat doesnt matter
what i can offer to eat doesnt concern
i may be charge for millions but will taste it

i dont care who cant eat as long as i eat
no money can satify my hunger
no chef can verify my taste for food
i shall eat anything you serve

i dont care of the taste not the smell
as my stomach grumble i shall eat it
im always hungry always being stuffed
nor i can be full of what i eat

no one is hungrier but me
eat and drink i what i live
food is my first love
and wealth i shall spend for it

i am gluttony the undying hunger
i shall eat to satisfy but never full
i shall have everything edible
for my stomach needs more
Lucky Queue Dec 2012
I woke up this morning and felt like doing some cutting
Just for the heck of it.
I didn't, if only because I had no reason
I had no time
I made two promises,
And with them, I never lie.
Got up, dressed, finished a project due by 2:30
Before school starts my brother comes down
Scale in hand, telling me to get on so he can see if he weighs more
Always wanting to be taller, weigh more
So I can be his 'little sister'
I sigh, step on. Expecting my usual of 90-92
Freak out mode: on.
I forgot to eat properly over the last 24 hours, maybe that's it
I only got 5 hours of sleep the last 2 nights, maybe that's it
I've been really stressed by school, maybe that's it
Almost time to go and somehow I still can't eat, I don't want to.
I need to though.
Let me explain this: I normally weigh about 92 pounds
95 is what I should weigh
I need to gain weight anyway, but high metabolisms don't like that
So usually I am 3 pounds underweight
Today it was about 10.
Go to school, should eat but don't want to
Standing, waiting, anticipating what?
Hand my friend three cookies, I tell the group my problem
One cookie handed back(other two previously eaten)
Told to eat by four friends, too hard to explain why I can't eat
Numerous reminders to eat
Lunch: I'm handed some chicken nuggets, ice cream
Half jokingly threatened that I won't be talked to unless I eat
Begged to eat
Strangely: I have no such desire
I have minimal amounts of body fat(less than 10 percent)
But even so, I can feel weight missing,
The absence of my already flat belly, surreal to think about
I still don't feel like eating, not really hungry
No other explanation
Friend tells me to pig out when I get home
Quiz bowl after school and I'm only ever so slightly hungry
But not much
A friend steals my gym shoes, mom comes
At home I eat some butter and honeyed toast, tea, candied ginger, half a thing of crackers
Report to friend # 2 who then proceeds to command me to eat more, and interrogates on why I'm not eating
Tell friend # 1 as well, his approval expressed
Dinner and afterwards I only feel hungrier... so strange.
I check the scale again
Better, but still too low.
I need to work on this...
So today I weighed far too little, an interesting experience. And yes, I seriously did not feel like eating and forgot the day before. Right now I'm a little hungry though... to the kitchen!!
David Ehrgott Nov 2014
My doggie he whistles a song through his nose
On this Thanksgiving his story is told
He waits for the birdie to perch on his nose
Then with a swift move he swallows it whole
Feet, beak, and feathers, everything goes
Down through his neck to his stomach you know
Well even a little dumb doggie knows this
The taste of a big juicy turkey is bliss

Bird, bird, bird, bird, bird
Bird, bird, bird, bird, bird
I wanna eat a bird
I wanna eat a bird

Jack La Lane lived a long long time
He told me the secret to his long long life
Don't eat a pig and don't eat red meat
Don't eat a duck it is very bad luck
Don't eat Italian, French food, Chinese...
But you can eat plenty yes plenty of these
A chicken a turkey is all you will need
If you want to live to one hundred and three

Bird, bird, bird, bird, bird
Bird, bird, bird, bird, bird
I wanna eat a bird
I wanna eat a bird
Bird bird bird bird bird
Bird bird bird bird bird...
Mean while the heinous and despiteful act
Of Satan, done in Paradise; and how
He, in the serpent, had perverted Eve,
Her husband she, to taste the fatal fruit,
Was known in Heaven; for what can ’scape the eye
Of God all-seeing, or deceive his heart
Omniscient? who, in all things wise and just,
Hindered not Satan to attempt the mind
Of Man, with strength entire and free will armed,
Complete to have discovered and repulsed
Whatever wiles of foe or seeming friend.
For still they knew, and ought to have still remembered,
The high injunction, not to taste that fruit,
Whoever tempted; which they not obeying,
(Incurred what could they less?) the penalty;
And, manifold in sin, deserved to fall.
Up into Heaven from Paradise in haste
The angelick guards ascended, mute, and sad,
For Man; for of his state by this they knew,
Much wondering how the subtle Fiend had stolen
Entrance unseen.  Soon as the unwelcome news
From Earth arrived at Heaven-gate, displeased
All were who heard; dim sadness did not spare
That time celestial visages, yet, mixed
With pity, violated not their bliss.
About the new-arrived, in multitudes
The ethereal people ran, to hear and know
How all befel:  They towards the throne supreme,
Accountable, made haste, to make appear,
With righteous plea, their utmost vigilance
And easily approved; when the Most High
Eternal Father, from his secret cloud,
Amidst in thunder uttered thus his voice.
Assembled Angels, and ye Powers returned
From unsuccessful charge; be not dismayed,
Nor troubled at these tidings from the earth,
Which your sincerest care could not prevent;
Foretold so lately what would come to pass,
When first this tempter crossed the gulf from Hell.
I told ye then he should prevail, and speed
On his bad errand; Man should be seduced,
And flattered out of all, believing lies
Against his Maker; no decree of mine
Concurring to necessitate his fall,
Or touch with lightest moment of impulse
His free will, to her own inclining left
In even scale.  But fallen he is; and now
What rests, but that the mortal sentence pass
On his transgression,—death denounced that day?
Which he presumes already vain and void,
Because not yet inflicted, as he feared,
By some immediate stroke; but soon shall find
Forbearance no acquittance, ere day end.
Justice shall not return as bounty scorned.
But whom send I to judge them? whom but thee,
Vicegerent Son?  To thee I have transferred
All judgement, whether in Heaven, or Earth, or Hell.
Easy it may be seen that I intend
Mercy colleague with justice, sending thee
Man’s friend, his Mediator, his designed
Both ransom and Redeemer voluntary,
And destined Man himself to judge Man fallen.
So spake the Father; and, unfolding bright
Toward the right hand his glory, on the Son
Blazed forth unclouded Deity: He full
Resplendent all his Father manifest
Expressed, and thus divinely answered mild.
Father Eternal, thine is to decree;
Mine, both in Heaven and Earth, to do thy will
Supreme; that thou in me, thy Son beloved,
Mayest ever rest well pleased.  I go to judge
On earth these thy transgressours; but thou knowest,
Whoever judged, the worst on me must light,
When time shall be; for so I undertook
Before thee; and, not repenting, this obtain
Of right, that I may mitigate their doom
On me derived; yet I shall temper so
Justice with mercy, as may illustrate most
Them fully satisfied, and thee appease.
Attendance none shall need, nor train, where none
Are to behold the judgement, but the judged,
Those two; the third best absent is condemned,
Convict by flight, and rebel to all law:
Conviction to the serpent none belongs.
Thus saying, from his radiant seat he rose
Of high collateral glory: Him Thrones, and Powers,
Princedoms, and Dominations ministrant,
Accompanied to Heaven-gate; from whence
Eden, and all the coast, in prospect lay.
Down he descended straight; the speed of Gods
Time counts not, though with swiftest minutes winged.
Now was the sun in western cadence low
From noon, and gentle airs, due at their hour,
To fan the earth now waked, and usher in
The evening cool; when he, from wrath more cool,
Came the mild Judge, and Intercessour both,
To sentence Man:  The voice of God they heard
Now walking in the garden, by soft winds
Brought to their ears, while day declined; they heard,
And from his presence hid themselves among
The thickest trees, both man and wife; till God,
Approaching, thus to Adam called aloud.
Where art thou, Adam, wont with joy to meet
My coming seen far off?  I miss thee here,
Not pleased, thus entertained with solitude,
Where obvious duty ere while appeared unsought:
Or come I less conspicuous, or what change
Absents thee, or what chance detains?—Come forth!
He came; and with him Eve, more loth, though first
To offend; discountenanced both, and discomposed;
Love was not in their looks, either to God,
Or to each other; but apparent guilt,
And shame, and perturbation, and despair,
Anger, and obstinacy, and hate, and guile.
Whence Adam, faltering long, thus answered brief.
I heard thee in the garden, and of thy voice
Afraid, being naked, hid myself.  To whom
The gracious Judge without revile replied.
My voice thou oft hast heard, and hast not feared,
But still rejoiced; how is it now become
So dreadful to thee?  That thou art naked, who
Hath told thee?  Hast thou eaten of the tree,
Whereof I gave thee charge thou shouldst not eat?
To whom thus Adam sore beset replied.
O Heaven! in evil strait this day I stand
Before my Judge; either to undergo
Myself the total crime, or to accuse
My other self, the partner of my life;
Whose failing, while her faith to me remains,
I should conceal, and not expose to blame
By my complaint: but strict necessity
Subdues me, and calamitous constraint;
Lest on my head both sin and punishment,
However insupportable, be all
Devolved; though should I hold my peace, yet thou
Wouldst easily detect what I conceal.—
This Woman, whom thou madest to be my help,
And gavest me as thy perfect gift, so good,
So fit, so acceptable, so divine,
That from her hand I could suspect no ill,
And what she did, whatever in itself,
Her doing seemed to justify the deed;
She gave me of the tree, and I did eat.
To whom the Sovran Presence thus replied.
Was she thy God, that her thou didst obey
Before his voice? or was she made thy guide,
Superiour, or but equal, that to her
Thou didst resign thy manhood, and the place
Wherein God set thee above her made of thee,
And for thee, whose perfection far excelled
Hers in all real dignity?  Adorned
She was indeed, and lovely, to attract
Thy love, not thy subjection; and her gifts
Were such, as under government well seemed;
Unseemly to bear rule; which was thy part
And person, hadst thou known thyself aright.
So having said, he thus to Eve in few.
Say, Woman, what is this which thou hast done?
To whom sad Eve, with shame nigh overwhelmed,
Confessing soon, yet not before her Judge
Bold or loquacious, thus abashed replied.
The Serpent me beguiled, and I did eat.
Which when the Lord God heard, without delay
To judgement he proceeded on the accused
Serpent, though brute; unable to transfer
The guilt on him, who made him instrument
Of mischief, and polluted from the end
Of his creation; justly then accursed,
As vitiated in nature:  More to know
Concerned not Man, (since he no further knew)
Nor altered his offence; yet God at last
To Satan first in sin his doom applied,
Though in mysterious terms, judged as then best:
And on the Serpent thus his curse let fall.
Because thou hast done this, thou art accursed
Above all cattle, each beast of the field;
Upon thy belly groveling thou shalt go,
And dust shalt eat all the days of thy life.
Between thee and the woman I will put
Enmity, and between thine and her seed;
Her seed shall bruise thy head, thou bruise his heel.
So spake this oracle, then verified
When Jesus, Son of Mary, second Eve,
Saw Satan fall, like lightning, down from Heaven,
Prince of the air; then, rising from his grave
Spoiled Principalities and Powers, triumphed
In open show; and, with ascension bright,
Captivity led captive through the air,
The realm itself of Satan, long usurped;
Whom he shall tread at last under our feet;
Even he, who now foretold his fatal bruise;
And to the Woman thus his sentence turned.
Thy sorrow I will greatly multiply
By thy conception; children thou shalt bring
In sorrow forth; and to thy husband’s will
Thine shall submit; he over thee shall rule.
On Adam last thus judgement he pronounced.
Because thou hast hearkened to the voice of thy wife,
And eaten of the tree, concerning which
I charged thee, saying, Thou shalt not eat thereof:
Cursed is the ground for thy sake; thou in sorrow
Shalt eat thereof, all the days of thy life;
Thorns also and thistles it shall bring thee forth
Unbid; and thou shalt eat the herb of the field;
In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread,
Till thou return unto the ground; for thou
Out of the ground wast taken, know thy birth,
For dust thou art, and shalt to dust return.
So judged he Man, both Judge and Saviour sent;
And the instant stroke of death, denounced that day,
Removed far off; then, pitying how they stood
Before him naked to the air, that now
Must suffer change, disdained not to begin
Thenceforth the form of servant to assume;
As when he washed his servants feet; so now,
As father of his family, he clad
Their nakedness with skins of beasts, or slain,
Or as the snake with youthful coat repaid;
And thought not much to clothe his enemies;
Nor he their outward only with the skins
Of beasts, but inward nakedness, much more.
Opprobrious, with his robe of righteousness,
Arraying, covered from his Father’s sight.
To him with swift ascent he up returned,
Into his blissful ***** reassumed
In glory, as of old; to him appeased
All, though all-knowing, what had passed with Man
Recounted, mixing intercession sweet.
Mean while, ere thus was sinned and judged on Earth,
Within the gates of Hell sat Sin and Death,
In counterview within the gates, that now
Stood open wide, belching outrageous flame
Far into Chaos, since the Fiend passed through,
Sin opening; who thus now to Death began.
O Son, why sit we here each other viewing
Idly, while Satan, our great author, thrives
In other worlds, and happier seat provides
For us, his offspring dear?  It cannot be
But that success attends him; if mishap,
Ere this he had returned, with fury driven
By his avengers; since no place like this
Can fit his punishment, or their revenge.
Methinks I feel new strength within me rise,
Wings growing, and dominion given me large
Beyond this deep; whatever draws me on,
Or sympathy, or some connatural force,
Powerful at greatest distance to unite,
With secret amity, things of like kind,
By secretest conveyance.  Thou, my shade
Inseparable, must with me along;
For Death from Sin no power can separate.
But, lest the difficulty of passing back
Stay his return perhaps over this gulf
Impassable, impervious; let us try
Adventurous work, yet to thy power and mine
Not unagreeable, to found a path
Over this main from Hell to that new world,
Where Satan now prevails; a monument
Of merit high to all the infernal host,
Easing their passage hence, for *******,
Or transmigration, as their lot shall lead.
Nor can I miss the way, so strongly drawn
By this new-felt attraction and instinct.
Whom thus the meager Shadow answered soon.
Go, whither Fate, and inclination strong,
Leads thee; I shall not lag behind, nor err
The way, thou leading; such a scent I draw
Of carnage, prey innumerable, and taste
The savour of death from all things there that live:
Nor shall I to the work thou enterprisest
Be wanting, but afford thee equal aid.
So saying, with delight he snuffed the smell
Of mortal change on earth.  As when a flock
Of ravenous fowl, though many a league remote,
Against the day of battle, to a field,
Where armies lie encamped, come flying, lured
With scent of living carcasses designed
For death, the following day, in ****** fight:
So scented the grim Feature, and upturned
His nostril wide into the murky air;
Sagacious of his quarry from so far.
Then both from out Hell-gates, into the waste
Wide anarchy of Chaos, damp and dark,
Flew diverse; and with power (their power was great)
Hovering upon the waters, what they met
Solid or slimy, as in raging sea
Tost up and down, together crouded drove,
From each side shoaling towards the mouth of Hell;
As when two polar winds, blowing adverse
Upon the Cronian sea, together drive
Mountains of ice, that stop the imagined way
Beyond Petsora eastward, to the rich
Cathaian coast.  The aggregated soil
Death with his mace petrifick, cold and dry,
As with a trident, smote; and fixed as firm
As Delos, floating once; the rest his look
Bound with Gorgonian rigour not to move;
And with Asphaltick slime, broad as the gate,
Deep to the roots of Hell the gathered beach
They fastened, and the mole immense wrought on
Over the foaming deep high-arched, a bridge
Of length prodigious, joining to the wall
Immoveable of this now fenceless world,
Forfeit to Death; from hence a passage broad,
Smooth, easy, inoffensive, down to Hell.
So, if great things to small may be compared,
Xerxes, the liberty of Greece to yoke,
From Susa, his Memnonian palace high,
Came to the sea: and, over Hellespont
Bridging his way, Europe with Asia joined,
And scourged with many a stroke the indignant waves.
Now had they brought the work by wonderous art
Pontifical, a ridge of pendant rock,
Over the vexed abyss, following the track
Of Satan to the self-same place where he
First lighted from his wing, and landed safe
From out of Chaos, to the outside bare
Of this round world:  With pins of adamant
And chains they made all fast, too fast they made
And durable!  And now in little space
The confines met of empyrean Heaven,
And of this World; and, on the left hand, Hell
With long reach interposed; three several ways
In sight, to each of these three places led.
And now their way to Earth they had descried,
To Paradise first tending; when, behold!
Satan, in likeness of an Angel bright,
Betwixt the Centaur and the Scorpion steering
His zenith, while the sun in Aries rose:
Disguised he came; but those his children dear
Their parent soon discerned, though in disguise.
He, after Eve seduced, unminded slunk
Into the wood fast by; and, changing shape,
To observe the sequel, saw his guileful act
By Eve, though all unweeting, seconded
Upon her husband; saw their shame that sought
Vain covertures; but when he saw descend
The Son of God to judge them, terrified
He fled; not hoping to escape, but shun
The present; fearing, guilty, what his wrath
Might suddenly inflict; that past, returned
By night, and listening where the hapless pair
Sat in their sad discourse, and various plaint,
Thence gathered his own doom; which understood
Not instant, but of future time, with joy
And tidings fraught, to Hell he now returned;
And at the brink of Chaos, near the foot
Of this new wonderous pontifice, unhoped
Met, who to meet him came, his offspring dear.
Great joy was at their meeting, and at sight
Of that stupendious bridge his joy encreased.
Long he admiring stood, till Sin, his fair
Enchanting daughter, thus the silence broke.
O Parent, these are thy magnifick deeds,
Thy trophies! which thou viewest as not thine own;
Thou art their author, and prime architect:
For I no sooner in my heart divined,
My heart, which by a secret harmony
Still moves with thine, joined in connexion sweet,
That thou on earth hadst prospered, which thy looks
Now also evidence, but straight I felt,
Though distant from thee worlds between, yet felt,
That I must after thee, with this thy son;
Such fatal consequence unites us three!
Hell could no longer hold us in our bounds,
Nor this unvoyageable gulf obscure
Detain from following thy illustrious track.
Thou hast achieved our liberty, confined
always anxious Nov 2016
"daddy, i'm so tired all the time.."
of course you are.. you barely eat...
"don't i?"
no you don't... you only just eat enough to survive
you eat less than your 5 year old sister.


- I don't know why... and i haven't thought about it.
I like my body trust me
But i don't want food
I am hungry, but i don't eat till the hunger has passed i only eat because i have to... if i didn't have to i wouldn't eat.
Eating bores me
Eating makes me feel nonproductive

I haven't thought about the fact that i eat less than my 5 year old sister... and i can't understand why daddy hasn't said anything before now..
And now i can't wait to get on the weight because  i wanna see if he's actually right, that i'm losing weight..
Trust me i'm not trying to... idk why i'm doing this...
just a rant.... what is happening to me? why am i not eating? i'm hungry right now but i don't want any food... nothing sound delicious right now...
Zach Hanlon Feb 2018
the parasite
and the host
eat, eat
feast on decay
eat, eat, eat
i'll feed you, parasite
eat, eat, eat, eat, eat, eat
consume me

— The End —