"leek" poems
Ni zindagi'ch aaja fer ni
Zindagi'ch aaja fer ni
Sathon russ gayi ae peed marjaani
Zakhman nu fer chhil jaa
Beh ja ankhiyan'ch ban ke paani
Zindagi'ch aaja fer ni
Vekh mere bul'chandre
Fer hansde ne dard bhula ke
Haaseya naal pawe aadiyan
Dil honkeya ton ankh ji bacha ke haaye
Fer mere muhre khad jaa
Taza hoje koyi yaad ni purani
Zindagi'ch aaja fer ni
Sathon russ gayi ae peed marjaani
Zakhman nu fer chhil jaa
Peh ja ankhiyan'ch ban ke paani
Zindagi'ch aaja fer ni
Langh ja ni rooh vich di
Agg fer ni lahu nu lag jaave
Hathaan utte kar totka
Meri zindagi di leek mitt jave haaye
Ankhiyan'ch neend radke
Ankhiyan'ch neend radke
Langhe chees koyi haddan de thaa ni
Zindagi'ch aaja fer ni
Saathon russ gayi ae peed marjaani
Zakhman nu fer chhil jaa
Peh ja ankhiyan'ch ban ke paani
Zindagi'ch aaja fer ni
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 7:47 AM UTC
there was a little turtle his shell it had a leek
the rain was getting in he had not slept all week
he was very stressed and he began to cry
spotted by an albatross flying near by
the albatross flew down and saw a little crack
running down the middle of the turtles back
dont worry said the albatross i know the thing to do
i will get some leaves and make a shelter just for you
the albatross gathered leaves and made a little tent
then when it was finished in the turtle went.
the turtle he was happy now in his tent so deep
he curled his shell and caught up with some sleep.
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 1:44 PM UTC
there was a little turtle his shell it had a leek
the rain was getting in he hadnt slept all week.
he was very stressed and he began to cry
spotted by an seagull flying near by.
the seagull he flew down and saw the little crack
running down the middle of the turtles back.
dont worry said the seagull i know the thing to do
i will get some leaves and make a tent for you.
the seagull gathered leaves and made a little tent
then when it was finished inside the turtle went.
the turtle he was happy in his tent so deep
he curled up in his shell and caught up with some sleep.
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 9:05 AM UTC
If you're gonna be lonely,
maybe learn how to cook.
Parade the smoke to the rafters
after doubting the book.
Alert the parents in vowing the earnest
salt in the brook.
A fervent effort relays to bacon kisses you took.
Brine is cheap,
and on days like this
find a Mrs. or friend,
apply the bread crumb crisp.
Buy the egg to allure.
confide that "this might miss."
If not to them to yourself.
Try the odd light whip.
Find a guide or a dozen.
Fire doesn't necessarily deny the pleasant after math.
Passable dishes levy comfort on cold nights,
dying for treasure dancing in the lights,
and forming function digging diamond from plastic wrap.
"I could serve a candied berry
pair it fairly cold below a lighter cream."
See the finer things elaborate below the theme.
Mise en place allowing,
yolk to heat,
folk wreaths are crowning.
Found a leek to brown,
found out what friends to feed can mean
Be the barer
taste your food
silk confections
social fruit
Buck the system
Find connection
tuck the mood in
ginger root
get your list out
pay it forward
take the order
grab a whisk
make an impact
Pleat the border
break the silence
wrap a gift
Oct 23, 2019
Oct 23, 2019 at 6:56 PM UTC
The City of Derby holds her breath amidst the crisis of historical ramblings and talkative expressions of inhibition.
Do not be deceived. Roaches are not mere insects, but are also three-course celebrations of haunting and religious engagements. There are Peaks which lie beyond the stratospheres of Leek.
Although the parameters of yesteryear project their own splendour, let us acknowledge the silver hair which drips with eternal statements of antagonistic adoration in Curzon Street.
Oh, rose of Sharon, in my sheer lack of understanding, I do not invalidate those instructions to depart from Birmingham New Street.
I have deeply immersed myself in Welsh pools of genuine loss, and have found a precious commodity which I had never beheld in former lifetimes.
Furthermore, I lament the loss of such generational integrity.
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 12:25 AM UTC
Shot a rabbit two days ago, it was a good shot taken at distance from height. The rabbit died instantly, it had been digging holes in my lawns, it had to go.
I watched it die and I had cause to ponder the death from a religious angle, where believers say we go to another place when we die?
I know where this rabbit went, he went into my vegetable garden, buried deep with all the other varmints and critters that have crossed my path.
Over the years we, (my wife and I), have turned that patch of barren volcanic ash into a wondrous source of lettuce, potatoes, onions, rhubarb, tomatoes and leek..by adding the carbonaceous remnants of not only these creatures but of composted vegetation, seaweed and selected fertilizers. We also grow the most beautiful roses and deliahs and crysanthemums you will ever come across.
And do you know...in the dark of night other little rabbits and bugs and things come out and nibble those very creations...unaware that they are completing the circle of being.
This is the true spirit of creation, as I see it, where deep in the garden, the motes of nutrition transmogrify beneficially from one entity to another, eventually, for the common good of all.
This is the basis of my belief. Feet on the ground...
What is....most definately is!
M.
Taranaki NZ
Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 3:32 PM UTC
I am a gorilla,
I am an ape.
And I’m trying to escape
This Golden Cage of youthful age,
I grace myself with the withering ineptitude
Of a penguin in commons.
I have the ambition of a pumpkin at Halloween,
That wants nothing more, than to be lit from the inside.
But my fiery breath is nothing more than whiskey
And cigarettes,
A lose regret of swollen knuckles,
Reminiscent of the iron age, I’m blowing off steam.
But it’s only condensed water on the inside of these windows.
Where the lights are off and there’s no one home.
Steve left me on the edge of moon rock,
A town that missed the stars of the night when they looked to sun,
So I sit playing ****
Puffed out like a swan but,
I’m all neck.
I wear a leek with pride and Yes,
I am a dragon on match days,
With claws and shrills, and right I’m sky high,
Cutting through your fluffy clouds, soft and weak.
Copper clad in pennyworth jeans I never chose.
Flaws that will be the floor for me,
Because in my town we never heard of stepladders,
We reach for the sky by climbing hills on tip toes.
Mountains we made with mole hills
My mother wont let go.
With **** so deep even spuds wont grow.
Apologies like auburgines, may be good for you
But I don’t like the taste.
So I’ll continue to squash the marrow between my knuckles,
But you can go gaga if you want to,
Because, I was born this way.
Great pun.
Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 7:01 PM UTC
It hurts, it hurts more than when I ended up in hospital, I slipped from the curved metal stairs and cracked all my ribs,
You sat on the frosty steel chair and fed me warm leek soup all day, I was high and *we cracked *** jokes all through the visiting hours*.
Or when I fractured my right leg and couldn’t walk for months, you wheelchaired me to all my revered museums,
And when it rained that evening and I felt trapped and pathetic in the ****** wheelchair,
*You lifted me up and twirled me around and kissed every sore spot in my body including my terrible heart,
Till I started laughing, all giddy and intoxicated with your droplets brushed lips*
Or when I burnt my fingers while making green curry and you had to take me to infirmary,
They bandaged my fingers in bubblegum pink gauze an told me the scars would never leave and I wouldn’t be able to write or hold you for a week,
You made me churros that whole week with Swiss choc dipping and kissed all my scars away, painting vibrant swallows on them.
I loved you, so much it made me insane, but it also made me breathe. Funny, how the direction of the wind has changed.
It hurts now, more than it ever did, I stand on the steps of metropolitan museum of art and the ache in my veins magnifies,
The longing ablaze like all your plaid shirts, nirvana records and all the synthetic lilies you gave me, quoting they will never dry up, Like our love will always remain, burning on my terrace
Funny how, now I don’t believe a sentence you said.
I sing all the songs we loved for the last time, to get it all out, of my system and bleeding heart.
My lips get greedy for the praised lyrics and midnight kisses.
The rocking chair in the balcony swinging in the breezy night I hope it’s you, my eyes left disappointed at the empty gloomy sight
My heart getting accustomed to Bukowski instead of much devoured Rilke.
Sometimes in life you never understand why they left, why it ended all of a sudden?
When did you stop loving me and when all my importance vanished into thin air like you did?
Sometimes all that is left to do is accept it and move on, and that may be the seemingly impossible part.
Sometimes you just have to pour water to the vivid fire for putting gasoline was proving to be poisonous and CHOKING.
Jul 6, 2013
Jul 6, 2013 at 6:07 AM UTC
drink pour drink
lacking love I sink
swimming in the pink
my soul is stretching for the leek
the thing I want I'm doomed to want
if ever id had it, id have at least lost
but never at all not for lack of trying
meany a time offered out to be cried in
any time other its *** or its sin
unlovable or am I looked down upon
some god picked me to frown upon
some life randomly to be shat upon
unneeded my outdated satyricon
Faust verily howbeit parfay
whilom methinks maugre swoopstake
twixt speed and sweven, swink eke teen
mayhap afore alack fore fie
clepe gardyloo thole
whosoever sith wist whereof speed
Jan 25, 2013
Jan 25, 2013 at 12:00 AM UTC
This pressure cooker,
supposedly life.
Scrambling to meet
a husband or wife.
Missing the things,
needed the most.
slipping from life,
becoming a ghost.
I've got potato,
bring me some leek.
I'll put it together,
await your critique.
So . . .
Lets do soup together.
Today, tomorrow.
Maybe forever.
Kaydee.
Jan 18, 2021
Jan 18, 2021 at 3:39 PM UTC
My life flashed before my eyes
That's when I knew it was full of lies.
So many people come and go
Pulling my heart strings to and fro.
People think of it as a game
To make my life so full of pain.
All the tears and blood I've let leek
All because I've been dubbed a freak.
Even the one that claimed he loved me left
Breaking what was left of the heart in my chest.
A mother who lectures me
When all I want is to be set free.
One day I almost died
No one but me sat down and cried.
It made me wonder if I should of let go
At that moment the depression decided to show.
I wish to be numb
But I know that feeling is never going to come.
Why can't people care
Life just isn't fair.
It was so painful, I wish I never had to see
My life, flash before me.
Nov 25, 2015
Nov 25, 2015 at 5:59 PM UTC
At the end of the working week
All that's left is cabbage and leek
Throw them in a pan
With bits of old ham
and you have got bubble and squeak.
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 3:08 AM UTC
So good my girl that she be
Be the one that made for me
She do the dish and make a meal
She lovin' good das good an' real
Nobody know how she make me feel
A stain my life leaves on her sheet
Heaving up a gunk of dweet
And rubbing all about her leek
She gonna need a new bath deet
Aug 25, 2011
Aug 25, 2011 at 8:55 PM UTC
He brought me
Some
Hot coffee
And planted me
An
Apple tree
I gave him
Some
Soy milk
And gifted him
A
Fresh leek
Then we watched
The
Buzzing bees
Making
Sweet honey
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 5:56 AM UTC
This cell...
Hard and cold
I am hidden in a well
Dark, deep, and damp
Where is the hope that one must seek
Where is the happiness and love
Is there a pure white cooing dove
Or do all of those things leek away
Have the walls always been bleak and gray
Has the sun ever shown at the high time of day
For once I fell all alone
The ice-cold water has an echoing sound
Is it me or is it strangely quiet
Here I sit lost and scared
I am impaired for the sights I have seen
I know in my heart that I didn't do it
But I am here waiting for death
I sit and watch my days waste away
They sit there and wait for my life to pass by
What would happen if there was justice
But then again, what is justice
For once I feel all alone
Taken and without home...
Mar 8, 2010
Mar 8, 2010 at 5:08 PM UTC
L oveless
I nfectious
F earless
E mpty
-
I solated
S uffering
-
N otorious
O ver-rated
T erminal
-
W oeful
O dible
R uthless
T ime-consuming
H ateful
-
L onely
I ntoxicating
V icious
I illaqueates
N narquois
G leek
--
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 5:16 PM UTC
Yer heads just a bed for others opinions to lay in;
growing bigger, badder and bolder there,
until they’re covered in sores, manky and reeking.
Yer heads just a place for others thoughts to leek in.
But dinnae get disheartened by their chat.
Remember its your head thats dain aw that.
They never said a word, its yer head that ye heard.
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 3:01 PM UTC
Gorillas in the mist, soldiers in the deep
Push the iron fist, stroll straight through your street
Killers with a list, stomping with there feet
InVision this, a heart without a beat
They listen to there orders, mercy is the weak
They have no compassion, they leave the blood to leek
Fighting is there passion, there push straight to there peak
They destroy all around them, for the enemy they do seek
Take away people stories, leave them just for dead
Forcing a famine so, people cant be feed
The pictures they have painted inside the victims head
If you dare to disobey, they pump you full of lead
War
What is it good for?
To take away the poor
To break down the door
At the call of final straw
War
What is it good for?
To invade you native shore
To take the oil they may store
To put the weaker on the floor
So they door not ask for more
They leave us so unsure
War
What is it good for?
Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 12:56 PM UTC
Lieve mama,
Je hebt mijn grafrede geschreven. Vol overtuiging heb je de pen op het papier gezet en de woorden laten vloeien.
Zonder enige twijfel kon jij zo je speech schrijven. Je deed het in het ziekenhuis, terwijl ik nietsvermoedend naast je zat. Je liet het me niet lezen, ik heb zelf je boekje gepakt. Nadat jij zo vaak mijn pijn op het papier heb kunnen lezen, leek het me niet meer dan eerlijk om te zien waar jij al zo lang mee zat. Uit je woorden kon ik opmaken dat je al een lange tijd aan het rouwen bent. Ik ben nog niet dood, maar je weet dat het eraan zit te komen. De constante schaduw van de suïcidale aanvallen hebben de monsters in je hoofd als een wild vuur aangewakkerd. Je gelooft niet meer in mijn leven. Het is een droom die ieder moment kan stoppen. Je weet dat je daarna nooit meer zult dromen en klampt je krampachtig vast aan de laatste beelden die je voor je **** halen. We hebben de laatste tijd niet meer dan ruzie gehad. We voelen de dood beide zo hard in ons nek hijgen dat we elkaar nauwelijks aan kunnen kijken. Het komt door mij. Wat zou het nu nog uitmaken of ik dood ga of niet. Ik heb je al zoveel pijn en verdriet gekost, dit kan zo niet verder mam. Ik wil je geen pijn meer doen. Je hebt mijn grafrede geschreven, verdomme mam. Je hebt het voor mij definitief gemaakt. Ik dacht dat ik er niet mee zou zitten, ik dacht dat ik mijn gevoel weer weg kon stoppen, maar mam je hebt het definitief gemaakt. Ik geef je nergens de schuld van. Ik had nooit dat boekje moeten pakken, maar mam je bent zo afgesloten. Ik wil weer met je zijn, samen kunnen lachen en huilen. Tegenwoordig kunnen we elkaar niet uitstaan. Ik voel de band niet meer. Ik begin mezelf weer langzaam terug te trekken en als het eenmaal zo ver is, zal het weer fout gaan. Het is voor mij, net als voor jou, een tikkende tijdbom. Ik sta op springen mam, ik kan niet meer. Ik vocht voor jou, maar jij hebt me al opgegeven. Jij bent al aan het rouwen voor een kind dat nog niet dood is.
Sep 25, 2019
Sep 25, 2019 at 2:12 PM UTC
on today's menu? a leek and granny smith apple salad (crème fraîche instead of mayonnaise, a bit of lemon juice and a bit of sugar, salt and pepper of course; diced tomatoes with onion, white vinegar / an acetic acid concoction, salt and pepper; cucumbers and tomatoes with onions likewise as the diced tomatoes extras; mashed potatoes with a dash of milk and crème fraîche and dill; and of course, the pièce de résistance - a slowly fried schnitzel (dabbled in a sprinkle of plain flower, egg, and breadcrumbs); apropos, don't you find middle-class english people slightly paranoid about using white vinegar as if they've seen a martian? i've seen it, what a comedy, with one line the entire theatrical play played out, and nothing was said, just eye contact!
actually the only fun i have from
certain bad palette recipes
is throwing raw meat to my cats,
beef is met with full approval,
pork too, chicken not so much,
prawns are approved, even a fish
eye; indeed if i'm working on a dish
from inexperience reciting each
ingredient into the cauldron i never
know what to expect, and if the dish
is written by a badly experienced palette,
throwing raw meat to my cats
is the most enjoyable part of cooking,
it almost feels like a scene from
a coliseum.
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 7:00 PM UTC
The world enters
She holds a plate
Bows to the table
Where you just ate
“Someone nice to fall in love with?”
“Yea sure, why not?”
It's been a heavy meal
Your stomach is wrought
Fork stabs at the corners
Breading, bland and bleak
You miss the previous course
This is all just lard and leek
But you asked for this
It's time to eat
You opted in
For something sweet
Are sweet things
Not enough for you?
Do you crave the heat?
Of spice and rue
Those rich delicacies
Made you shatter and break
Let go of them now
And finish your plate
What you get now
And all there is to order
A small, simple circle
With a felt-tip border
A pillow to sleep on
A jumper to wear
Someone nice to fall in love with
If you even care
A light to see by
A melody to hum
Flowers that creep
Between apple and plum
A meal that is certain
A modest, tidy pie
Someone nice to fall in love with
If you give it a try
May 25, 2025
May 25, 2025 at 7:15 PM UTC
When I was in 1st grade I would jump off the swing set just to feel alive
I got a lot of attention because the other kids thought I could die
Maybe I was lacking some sort of Imbalance chemically in my mind
Because the attention they gave me Was a new type of high
I illicit reactions just so I can feel fine
Blood is in the sink I think I can finally see the light
I want to feel the wind between my arms And lift into the air just one more time
The attention is addicting
Thick eyeliner and a black boobie dress
12 years old and they say I'm not filled out quite yet
I enjoyed the validation the old men gave me
Blood red, pill dead
Just like the pretty cigarette girls on TV said.
stuck in this loveless hole until somebody saves me.
Self destructive, enable the pain
Turn the corner and play their game.
I only want to what's worst for me.
I illicit reactions just to see
The emotionally intense delivery
Oh you should see your face,
And in the frown you gave me.
I'm just a liar now
No one hears my screams
There's blood in the sink and no one is listening
Lower middle class middle school ***** stealing pencil sharpeners every chance I could get
The blood is on my clothes and its not coming off
And I'll still send that old man a picture of my body
As I leek blood, draining it like a hobby.
He ignores my pain to fulfill his selfish pleasures knowing he gets to see a pubescent body with ******* on
I only like doing the things that are bad for me.
I illicit these reactions to keep the attraction
If I'm in control and I know their intentions, they can't hurt me
It can't happen
But there's still blood in the sink
God I'm so tragic
Wouldn't you think?
Feb 19, 2025
Feb 19, 2025 at 9:16 PM UTC
There is no time like the present to be present,
past times are no times in which to be passing time
I walk past strangers who are pleasant in passing
presenting me with a conundrum.
I'm awake with a coffee
I was asleep
I keep waking and it's taking its toll
rolling a cigarette,
it eases my nerves
there is comfort in things that we know.
Work doesn't fall into the category
of comfort
although I go every day,
masochistic to the end
I defend my right to do so
I only start dressing to cover my depression
dark is the colour for me
see how Winter creeps in to thin out the herd,
but
I'll not go with the flow that tends to move slow
when the snow lays deep
I'll go back to sleep or to work.
Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 12:26 AM UTC
They say self care is a main
To prevent you from becoming insane.
So let me lie back and figure it out.
Might take a smoke to or two,
Just to help the view.
Let's dive in deep and think of the sneak leek we seek like in a Disney channel movie.
There's a party and we're down barely floor one.
Let's check it out.
These Sirens are blaring yet we all dance along.
It's something they're all used to dancing around.
Call it my song or call it my calling,
It's a ******* Siren Party.
Where or where have you gone?
It's been 3 months long enough.
It's time to be more than alone.
I'm not alone I got and him and I.
We party like nothing's gonna change.
Grab a cup, kick back, have a drink of the extinct.
There's so much banging at the door yet I dont bother to answer.
It's a party in here where nothing ever changes.
Not even the moves we make or the things we faced.
We're just more laced.
These Sirens are blaring yet we all dance along.
It's somethings they're all used to dancing around.
Call it my song or call it my calling,
It's a ******* Siren Party.
Oct 21, 2020
Oct 21, 2020 at 5:34 AM UTC