Poetic T Mar 2015
Jack** and Jill ran up the hill,
To perv on miss muffin
Getting her fill,
She was getting it hard boiled
From Humpy Dumpty,
Who fell of the wall,
Yolk sprayed up her back,
Her screaming she wanted more.

Mary, Mary,
Quite Contrary...
How did you make it grow,
You played with the bells,
And my cockle shells and it did grow,
Mary, Mary,
Quite Contrary
Not much words to show,
A mouth your good at what you do,
Mary my sweet little bike I like to ride so.

Old Mother Hubbard
Liked it up the back cupboard,
From the younger gents
She knows,
She liked to suck meat till the marrow
Did flow swallowed the lot in one go,
Now empty is the bone.
Who thought a lady in years,
Had all this energy on the go...
Arran James Jun 2014
The best way to get the broken pieces of an egg out of your omelette
Is using half the shell to pick it up while it's still raw

Maybe you're the best qualified to pick up your own broken pieces
SøułSurvivør Dec 2015
inspired by
Lidi Minuet
and her poem

I found an egg of crystal
it had a little crack
though beautiful as opals
integrity it lacked

I asked the Lord to help me
"whatever should I do?"
He told me to go and plant it
when the day was new

and so I looked for soil
but no soft could be found
so I planted my wee egg
in hard, forbidding

I watered it with tears
for others suffering lack
and after a little while
the ground
began to

a tentative green sprout
pushed up its tender head
it grew up from the rocky ground
I had thought so dead!

I continued watering
I knew naught else to do
and a tulip flower appeared
the lightest
eggshell blue!

I watered then in earnest!
I wanted for to see
that flower strong and healthy
and what it'd bloom to be!

slowly the petals opened
and lo! there fast emerged
a'singing and a'fluttering
a little crystal bird!

out of the light blue flower
the creature dipped and soared
it was then I realized
my hope had been restored!

flying 'round my head
its feathers sent off light
as brilliant as a diamond
shattering the night

it was only then I realized
as the darkness fell apart
the soil was life's hardships
and the
had been my


(C) 12/17/2015
I know every trouble i experience
now is nothing compared
to the joy of God.

I must remember that
J esus
O thers
    Y ourself

In just that order.

repost this piece if you will
I'm proud of it
it has a great message l think
people should read!

Sean Jun 2015
There is an entire universe
of embryonic possibilities
flowing and skating together
as ideas clash
and thoughts soak
in chalaza

With a crack
it all gargles out
a scrambled mess
As I struggle against the tide
Of two eggs in the same pan
Cosying up, embracing
Destined to be as one

I realise that it's just no use
To maintain a division
Between two born of the one same mother
Be that Mother Hen or Mother Nature
I am soft
With a hard shell
Crack me open
And I will
Ooze out
Raw, white and foamy
Clinging to your fingers
I wrote this while suffering from insomnia. I couldn't stop thinking about this image.
Alan Maguire Feb 2013
Life for me began as an egg,  it wasn't really a special egg, just a regular egg shape with some green splotches .So, you were just like the Platypus and the Echidna ?. Exactly like the Echidna and Platypus .Well not quite exactly, those creature are mammals,
I'm more like a lizard, I'm actually part dinosuar.

My mother is a dinosuar like creature known as a Dinosapien, But I'm more human than she was. I'm about 60 percent human , though I do posses Lizard organs , My eyes are ,
My heart and lungs are, So is my weiner, my appetite and my tongue

I can taste the air, Just like the snake . Em, but dinosaurs don't do that

How dya know ?, Well because of science and Jurassic park
Yah, I'm sure their both official sources, any way, so how come were having this conversation ?, well that's the one thing about dinosaurs , they were notorious for having one sided conversations with themselves, ya mean they were bonkers ?, no not crazy and once they left the nest ,were pretty much losers, I mean loners.

What about mating?, Well they had wieners ya know, no, not that and what about female dinosaurs ?, well the females didn't care , they just wanted a male for about 3 minutes, if he was lucky maybe 3 and a half, the males were more concerned about sexual contact with the ladies. So, I guess there was a lot of dudes humping each other then ?
em, I think this conversation is over now
Deadwood Haiku Mar 2015
could you have been born
Richardson, and not egg-hatched
as I had assumed?
En l’an trentiesme do mon aage
    Que toutes mes hontes j’ay beues…

Pipit sate upright in her chair
     Some distance from where I was sitting;
Views of the Oxford Colleges
     Lay on the table, with the knitting.

Daguerreotypes and silhouettes,
     Her grandfather and great great aunts,
Supported on the mantelpiece
     An Invitation to the Dance.

     . . . . .

I shall not want Honour in Heaven
     For I shall meet Sir Philip Sidney
And have talk with Coriolanus
     And other heroes of that kidney.

I shall not want Capital in Heaven
     For I shall meet Sir Alfred Mond.
We two shall lie together, lapt
     In a five per cent. Exchequer Bond.

I shall not want Society in Heaven,
     Lucretia Borgia shall be my Bride;
Her anecdotes will be more amusing
     Than Pipit’s experience could provide.

I shall not want Pipit in Heaven:
     Madame Blavatsky will instruct me
In the Seven Sacred Trances;
     Piccarda de Donati will conduct me.

     . . . . .

But where is the penny world I bought
     To eat with Pipit behind the screen?
The red-eyed scavengers are creeping
     From Kentish Town and Golder’s Green;

Where are the eagles and the trumpets?

     Buried beneath some snow-deep Alps.
Over buttered scones and crumpets
     Weeping, weeping multitudes
Droop in a hundred A.B.C.’s
Rowan Darcy Apr 2016
There was an egg who dreamed a dream,
Of life in light,
A life of flight,
Some world of sight,
The egg did shiver in delight,
And lo,
A crack was formed,
And through the rend,
The sunlight stormed,
The egg abhorred the feel,
Of air flow through the shattered seal,
It bucked and jumped,
It smashed and pumped,
Till it was no more an egg.
I may seem hard
From far outside guard
Just thought me inside
And my softest soul will abide
With only one uncareful touch
Means so much
Takes no doubt
I could be broken *inside & out
Karen Hamilton Jan 2016
I do love my little egg cup,
His brother much the same,
He holds my egg so perfectly;
Boiled eggs are not a game.

They bounce about for 4 minutes
Before they take their test,
They need a place to hold them straight;
My egg cups are the best.

When the soldiers are awaiting,
Those buttered friends of mine,
I need my little egg cups
To keep them all in line.

They come with little cosy hats
To hide their eggy heads,
I take it off and just like that;
Prepare for eggy bread!

© Karen L Hamilton, 2013
I love boiled eggs all year round but especially on Christmas morning following family tradition, so here's a playful poem showing my love for my little Egg cups!!
Henry Bandini Sep 2013
My trembling egg
In black attire
Is beaming light of thousand stars.

It's fragile shell
I have admired
And held so tight against my heart.

The role of you is undecided
Too young to know
Too old to live.

You've never brought
Enough excitement
For that I squeeze you in my palm.

My little eggshells
Are much like diamonds
Spread out across your filthy hearts.
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