"fixings" poems
somewhere between the fourth and fifth
load of laundry,
sometime after breakfast~lunch,
now served in the USA at home,
as an all day meal, per the edict of Mcdonalds,
start fixing dinner, take a break, walk to the mailbox,
retrieve the post and quick retreat back inside,
ah that Texas sun, bilingual chili hot,
toss the unopened on the prior weeks pile,
cause everyone loves company
the home-cold-brewed ice coffee needs a filling
for the fridge has decided not to help
by automatically refilling the pitcher
even if it could
I, busy folding,
needing two hands
and all my teeth
for folding my master’s rocket ship
sheets
my master observes with one of his alternating demeanors,
this one, super silent watching, announcing that I need a nap:
*“don't you always say, baby,
take a nap when you can, baby,
for when you need one, baby,
you probably won’t be able, my baby”*
with selected-hand-led fingers,
he lays me down to sleep,
bids me to slow slide to dreamland, dinner will keep,
curling inside my frame, hands a-cupping my *******
telling me a drowsy tale, inherited from his mother’s womb
and his granddaddy’s tongue, mindful of his family’s history
there, is where, they find us,
dinner fixings burnt,
me and my five year old baby boy,
still sleeping fast, around 5pm, bodies enwrapped,
tied by blood and entwined in old nursery rhymes,
Texas tall tales of Pecos Bill,
me and my very own
nap-ster master
<•>
p.s. and they call me by my other name to wake me, momma
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 1:14 PM UTC
Playing my cards wrong like
Jim Morrison prom night bath,
lavender and drug fixings,
we all just hope I went
missing.
Sorry I only love you
until I wake up in the
morning.
I'm on and off like
sunrise sunset.
My mind is stuffed
in a box
in the attic.
I'm a heartbreak
addict.
Don't ever let me heal.
Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 11:41 PM UTC
I am shylock,
In the attic barely used,
Barren exuberant floorboards creak in exhalation,
Of your footsteps.
There you find me,
In the dust;
A wooden trunk with brass fixings,
Didn't I tell you I held a million treasures?
You breathe in the sunlight,
From the round attic window,
Preening itself in your vision basked in gold.
I am shylock,
You moved a gilded hand,
Guided by a unknown force of union with the lock,
The air is silent around you,
The room is intrepid in its wanton stranger,
Who dares to enter this chamber of dust.
I am shylock,
You take my fingertips from the cup of a hand I had placed gently on your cheek,
The night before I had told you,
Of this room,
You gently take my fingers and place it on the lock.
I am shylock,
There is a gentle click,
That soon awashes the abated room,
That sways into a tsunami of grandeur,
Of history, emotion, silence and tears,
And it consumes the dust,
The acrid air and essence of my fears settle on your eyes and the homely mouth.
I am shylock,
You know how I came about,
Now,
You know how this room became accustomed to the dust,
And the floorboards, the dust,
And the window, the dark,
You are breathing me,
The trunk is open and waiting,
And at the bottom,
A ragdoll awaits your palm,
Your strength, your gentleness and patience,
This is my shy,
This is my lock,
And you entered the room and consumed me.
Burst through the door, cut down the labyrinth,
and found me.
Picking me up,
You,
Became me, attended me, held me,
with grace sensitive to my touch,
with the intention of a protector to my defence,
And the brazen warrior to my battle.
Now I am entered and countered.
Protected and put together,
Unbound and in your arms;
Now I am open and free.
My ragdoll, your love, and me.
Together, unlocked,
together I and you become, we.
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 6:51 PM UTC
Why doesn't my boyfriend want to hold my hand anymore?
It's always been clammy and frigid,
though I suppose it has gained this new
rigidness.
And no one wants to feel responsible
for a dead weight abandoned
in the palm of his hand.
And because it's my lifeless hand,
severed with all the fixings,
rabid and unruly,
nipping at the palm that smothered the life out of it,
Because of this,
he can't even pass it off
as a gag paperweight for Bill at the office.
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 9:51 AM UTC
fragile heart she lay ruptured in my lounge chair
grey faced i mumble a few parting words over her
before i lay out the finest bone china
all the makings of tea and biscuits
all the fixings of ******
with the sounds of the snapping of necks
sharp wet sound fresh on the air
she was here to mourn her lover-boy
gone astray
i was here to see the deed done
i was the grey faced hangman
come to get his pennys
in my song you can hear the rope snap
in my heart you can feel the fall from the gallows
and my hangman's noose swinging in breeze
has its own peculiar creaking sound that sounds
like love to me
i was the grey faced hangman
that knows no sympathy
come now you wicked ones
sing my song with me
grey faced i lead the procession
up the graveyard road
the overgrown and thick summer feel to it
claws at the senses
but i keep walking stiffly
with the sound
of snapping necks ringing in my ears
its my song
he had cried like a child as they carried him to the gallows
he had begged and wailed
but my hangman's noose had claimed him
cold comfort awaits
to the tomb they cried out with joy
to the tomb with the scoundrel
while she lay weeping her lost lover-boy
and while grey faced i cleansed the world
of scoundrels like him
while grey faced i silently mourned
for i had run out of rope
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 5:06 PM UTC
As she emerged from years of abuse,
Became aware of the ******* he'd placed,
She knew it was time to go,
Filed the papers,
Moved in with a friend,
Tried to see another end.
Love does not die easily;
Her heart yearned
Some better way,
But ends must come
When there's nothing left to say.
She left everything to him;
He'd forced his will in choosing every piece:
Furniture, fixings, knife and fork,
Appliances, decor, automobiles....
She wanted none of it anymore.
Love does find a way
To die, though the dying may be slow.
"It's good we didn't have any children,"
His mother said. "We didn't muddy up
Our pure Norwegian blood line."
Love finds a way to die.
Jul 10, 2019
Jul 10, 2019 at 9:25 AM UTC
This is the year and I know that I know
that I know as if someone has told me
you've heard it before and you doubt that it's true
saying somebody selling has sold me!
I'm telling my folks and they're making the jokes
with their well-meaning words and those all-knowing pokes
I've been leaving for years but what nobody hears
is that often my fears tend to hold me!
You can shout it all day, but your actions relay
more than anything else, if you mean what you say
You can stir up the salsa, while mixing the dip
but as for the chips let 'em fall where they may!
So heat up the grill and slice up the steak
green peppers and onions, fajitas we'll make
and as for life's spices,whatever you wish
we all like a kick, and chipotle's delish!
cilantro is fine, tomatoes and lime,
get the measures all wrong? No matter, they rhyme
The fixings are great, life sizzles and steams
let's have us a plate and then roll in our dreams!
You can shout it all day, but your actions relay
more than anything else, if you mean what you say
You can stir up the salsa, while mixing the dip
but as for the chips let 'em fall where they may!
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 10:21 AM UTC
This is the year and I know that I know
that I know as if someone has told me
you've heard it before and you doubt that it's true
saying somebody selling has sold me
I'm telling my folks and they're making the jokes
with their well-meaning words and those all-knowing pokes
I've been leaving for years but what nobody hears
is that often my fears tend to hold me
You can shout it all day, but your actions relay
more than anything else, if you mean what you say
You can stir up the salsa, while mixing the dip
but as for the chips let 'em fall where they may!
So heat up the grill and slice up the steak
green peppers and onions, fajitas we'll make
and as for life's spices,whatever you wish
we all like a kick, and chipotle's delish!
cilantro is fine, tomatoes and lime,
get the measures all wrong? No matter, they rhyme
The fixings are great, life sizzles and steams
let's have us a plate and then roll in our dreams!
You can shout it all day, but your actions relay
more than anything else, if you mean what you say
You can stir up the salsa, while mixing the dip
but as for the chips let 'em fall where they may!
Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 11:31 PM UTC
She tends to rouse the men up like a fencer with a sword
cause handling meat and cheeses is her calling from the Lord
A quarter pound of turkey and a half a pound of cheese
asking which and how he liked it, he says "Any way you please"
A halfa pound of swiss gets more, if you don't care what the price is
less the holes, you'd get the same, with holes you get more slices
So if you want to spend it down, and don't care 'bout the holes
and flavor's what you're looking for, try rye with seeds, not rolls
I came in for some loose meat, (and by now he's getting flustered)
then BUY the meat, and get the ROLLS, but don't forget the mustard
The crowd grew still, all eyes were on his face, now glowing red
he came in for some loose meat, not the fixings OR the bread
A quarter pound of turkey and a half a pound of cheese
I'll take the Swiss, cut thinly Miss, in silence if you please!
Was one fine pearl, this deli girl who cut his cheese that day
for each thin slice, her sacrifice, to shut her mouth and pray
And once the meat was cut and bound in plastic with a price
she took the time to slam it down and yelled, "next up, be nice!"
She handles meats and cheeses like a fencer with a sword
but lives to serve her customer, a calling from the Lord
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 12:23 AM UTC
Do you remember
When you confessed
About the strange woman
Do you remember
How you cried and begged
For my forgiveness
Thats how I feel
Every single day
Guilty shameful
Sorry and regretful
Do you remember that feeling
Like your heart was broken
Because you hurt me
Thats what its like now
I'm broken because
My past can't be erased
And I hurt you
And I feel that shame
That heartache
Everyday
I feel like
My mistakes
Shouldn't hold us back
But its all they do
They bubble to the top
Of your unforgetting mind
And can't be washed away
Or stirred in
For the time we were together
I buried those painful memories
Because I had something new
Something real and wonderful
And now you released the memories
Like they werent three years ago
But just last week
And I stew in my shame
And I wonder
Why it feels like this
Because I was faithful
And yet that fact is so insignificant
Im sorry for my sins
Im sorry that i was lonely
And nothing and wanted
To be wanted
Im sorry I laid there instead of fought
Im sorry they never asked me
If its what I wanted
And just took
But you should know something
I made a promise to God
That I would never again
Lay there and take what I didn't want
That I'd try to be stronger
And I've kept that promise
And I plan to for the rest of my life
I told God I was sorry
And that im not who i use to be
And that I was thankful
Because I changed only when you saved me
And he started answering my prayers again
Because the reason I didnt believe in him
Once upon a time
Wasnt because I doubted him
But because I fear He saw me
And ignored me by not bringing you back
Because at first I prayed for you
And then I stopped
Because I lost faith not in Him but myself
I degraded myself into nothing
And I feared that He couldnt help
Or wouldn't after what I did
So I turned my back
And I've asked for forgiveness
And He gives it every time i breathe
And He gave me forgiveness
And showed me He was there
Because He gave me what I wanted all
Those lonely years
He gave me time with you
And I know that this wont change anything
Because nothing will
You want fairness
Even if it ruins everything
Your willing to feel that shame
Willing to commit that sin
With a soul you dont love
To take revenge
On what God forgave me for
To take revenge on a girl
That has long since been dead
And I understand
I really do
But that doesnt mean
It doesn't **** me inside
Not because what your gonna do
But because what your gonna feel
Your gonna feel that shame that I do
Every time you think about it
Or whenever its brought up
And I just dont want you to be unhappier
Because you thought it could fix things
Because I dont think thats how it'll be fixed
I think WE need to work on it
Remind each other that
We have so much together
Too many memories and dreams to just ****
I think we can fix things
Not with other people
But with each other
And with God.
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 1:30 PM UTC
This is the year and I know that I know
that I know as if someone has told me
you've heard it before and you doubt that it's true
saying somebody selling has sold me
I'm telling my folks and they're making the jokes
with their well-meaning words and those all-knowing pokes
I've been leaving for years but what nobody hears
is that often my fears tend to hold me
You can shout it all day, but your actions relay
more than anything else, if you mean what you say
You can stir up the salsa, while mixing the dip
but as for the chips let 'em fall where they may!
So heat up the grill and slice up the steak
green peppers and onions, fajitas we'll make
and as for life's spices,whatever you wish
we all like a kick, and chipotle's delish!
cilantro is fine, tomatoes and lime,
get the measures all wrong? No matter, they rhyme
The fixings are great, life sizzles and steams
let's have us a plate and then roll in our dreams!
You can shout it all day, but your actions relay
more than anything else, if you mean what you say
You can stir up the salsa, while mixing the dip
but as for the chips let 'em fall where they may!
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 11:47 AM UTC
I've never liked the uncertainty of the spring
But these days keep taking me back
So accordingly - like a plan
Reminding me of the this's & the that's
(The used to be's)
I've had a list for years
Of the things I'd like to see, the people that would pick up all the broken pieces of me
And I find myself searching for you
Between the trees that keep telling me to blossom
Just blossom
They say it so loudly, over the sounds of me shouting
Don't rush me, please don't rush me
I keep thinking
If only there was a way I could tell them
That I've asked for so many things
The this's and the that's
All the fixings of my life
And then - so accordingly, like a plan
I am reminded that it is not the uncertainty of the spring
It is the glass half empty in me
And somewhere in between my weathered walls and the sinking ships
I've started to blossom
With beauty and grace
And the trees are telling me, don't rush - please don't rush.
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 11:15 PM UTC
A fiery *****
She knows to trade
She wants to grow
Extreme havoc
Follows her wake
Beginning to suffuse
A relationship with honor
Sustainable fixings
An eternal gift
The purity of a partner,
With emotions
The wave of the divine
Heals
May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 10:50 PM UTC
“Give up trying to do anything.
nothing works works.”
From a note written by
Scott Allen Ostrem
If only you came to buy
another cell phone, a pen and
note card, some crayons &
paper. Anything. Anything
that would give you a voice.
If only you bought the
fixings for a satisfying supper,
or a gift for a lost lover.
Anything. Anything to help
you express your distress.
Anything to free your
words from the prison of
your maddness, anything
to melt your frozen tongue,
anything to return your
manhood, other than that gun!
Anything. Anything. If only . . .
By: Evelyn Augusto
For GUNS DON'T SAVE PEOPLE POETS DO 2017
Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 8:14 AM UTC
“Give up trying to do anything.
nothing works works.”
From a note written by
Scott Allen Ostrem
If only you came to buy
another cell phone, a pen and
note card, some crayons &
paper. Anything. Anything
that would give you a voice.
If only you bought the
fixings for a satisfying supper,
or a gift for a lost lover.
Anything. Anything to help
you express your distress.
Anything to free your
words from the prison of
your maddness, anything
to thaw your frozen tongue,
anything to return your
manhood, other than that gun!
Anything. Anything. If only . . .
By: Evelyn Augusto
For GUNS DON'T SAVE PEOPLE POETS DO 2017
Nov 27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017 at 1:03 PM UTC
I thought I buried you under the green grass
in the gloomy graveyard that is my past
I thought you'd gone on
to a distant land never to be seen or heard from again
I made these assumptions and tried to press onward but...
I Lost all of what made me less awkward,
I Lost my positive out look from one too many fixings of my black hole of a heart
my ****** edge is dead, that's why my Sundays have been so dry
I can't string two words to make anybody moist... so really why do I try?
I guess it's because I gave my heart to this notebook and pen,
when I was dead inside it became my closest friend,
helping me out my problems and surpass my demons,
but then everything has a season,
I guess what I'm getting at
is if you wanna try, (which I doubt)
I'm up and down for that...
So really.. why am I not the same anymore?
I thought I knew
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 1:40 AM UTC
It ain’t love, kid
When you pull my hair and you kiss my neck
It ain’t love when you look me dead in the face and you give me a hug as I take that ‘walk of shame’ down your stairs
Funny how I used to cry when you’d leave but now I’m the one leaving and I still cry but the reason has changed
How I used to beg you to stay but you don’t say a word against it when I offer to leave
How the tables have turned like your back to my word
How you don’t try to wipe my tears and ignore the ones you don’t see
How I’d still give you the world if you asked on a golden platter with all the fixings of a passionate love
But what are these words to you
What is my body to you
What is my soul to you
Man, it ain’t love, kid
But it sure as hell stings like it
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 9:58 PM UTC
A meal of turkey and fixings
an afternoon of repairing her fence
making a shelf unit for their dining room
all these grand efforts
would feel good
and might get me noticed
but what about a smile to a stranger
a call to my cousin
putting away my old neighbor’s garbage can
smoothing my wife’s hair as I pass behind her easy chair
waving at the new guy on the block who doesn’t know me
bringing a cold drink to the yardman?
Going small
is better than nothing at all
when I’ve talked myself out of the big deed
due to time, tired, bruise or bleed.
May 23, 2019
May 23, 2019 at 11:33 AM UTC