"marinate" poems
He knows so many techniques
He has proven his recipes
The ingredients are there
And he's ready to create
But instead of waiting for his ideas to marinate
Sometimes it's better
To just go raw.
Because like any good chef
he can make things up on the go.
And like every chef
He is the first to taste
and first impressions dominate.
For better or worse.
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 10:43 PM UTC
How did you get here?
Perhaps there was a big bang, and so you were.
Maybe you hit the ground running as fast as your legs could take you.
Was it so that you opened you mouth and words poured out perfectly?
Perchance all that was obtainable was already yours.
My journey was not of such ease.
I was birthed after hours of labor.
For every step I walked I fell six times before.
For months my tears and laughs were my only way of expression.
My parents, as many, knew patience.
Our parents, our teachers, our siblings, even ourselves: we had patience.
We are here because of it.
Now we can marinate our meat for flavor, but we pop diet pills for fast results.
Now we can slow cook our meals, but we abuse drugs to erase our sorrows.
Now we can raise a baby, but we let go of precious relationships too easily.
Now we can be a teacher, but we give up on ourselves.
Patience is putting in the effort for results, even when we don’t see the results for weeks, even months.
Patience is choosing the narrow road, even when the wide one is less lonely.
Patience is taking all the loops, kinks, and bumps as they come; and not giving up after the first couple roadblocks.
Patience is to love unconditionally, even if we have to step back for a little while.
Patience is all rage; we all need more of it.
We are all patients for patience, but we get too sick of waiting.
Our doctor was there, our remedy too, but a cheap high walked past and we chased it.
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 12:57 AM UTC
I wanna taste ya, I wanna take you away girl..(away from all the **** shit*2)...all the **** shit..that you gotta (deal wit2)...me girl Yeah..(I wanna taste2)..I wanna (take you away girl*2).(away from all the **** shit*2)..all the **** shit..that you gotta (deal wit 2)...me girl Yeah..Just (deal wit me girl Yeah2)..(just deal wit me2)..(deal wit me2)..(just deal wit me*2)..Shawty.. Yeah..
Deal with me girl so what's the deal girl, what is real girl..what is real love girl,..What is true...What's happening..What's up..wit you..baby me & you..that's what's good.. Uhh, Young Ston Babygirl you need a soulja baby I'll be the whole troop for you if you want me to..girl, I'm willing to do whatever I need to do for you, Yeah baby so..(you believe Dat*2)..Imma be there whenever you need me, best believe Dat Imma treat ya, how you supposed to be treated..(Yeah
You best believe girl2)..best believe Yeah..you best believe me. Yeah believe Dat..Uhh Aye..best believe girl..you best believe girl, you best believe Yeah..you best believe me....(best believe Dat, Yeah you best believe girl2)..believe dat..
I won't tell you no lies baby..I will never cheat on ya..(you best believe Dat*2)...believe me..Aye..Baby Yeah..
(I wanna taste you, I wanna take you away girl*2)..away..(from all the **** shit,yeah*2)...that you gotta deal wit..Uhh..,just (deal wit girl 2)...Yeah,.. You (best believe girl2)..I wanna taste you,..I wanna take you away girl..(away from all the **** shit2)..,that you gotta (deal wit2) me girl..(just deal wit me Yeah*2)..Deal wit me girl...
I'll protect you like you my Louis Lane boo, baby Yeah believe dat, believe in me, Dat your heart won't be in pieces no more baby & if it is already baby I'll be a mechanic & fix it..forget them other worthless man, that you have been wit, I'll put them in their place, if you need me to, Babygirl Aye..Imma keep it real, Imma keep it gangsta wit you..You gone need me, best believe Dat, yeah best believe girl, baby Imma put it down on you daily,..every chance I get..Imma give you love baby..Yeah true love girl..Imma have you screaming, Imma have you moaning, like "Young Ston you the man, like **** Daddy you the best ..I ever had".. Uhh..Yeah I know dat already baby..girl just take this **** yeah, take it all in like some good kush babygirl, don't exhale it, just let the good smoke marinate in yo mind & yo lungs for 30 seconds, then cough it all out..
Aye Shawty being wit me..is like being in another dimension baby being wit me is a new reality, Aye..Its another universal feeling being wit me girl , you (best believe Dat..*2)..I ain't like another man, they so regular that's so unoriginal, & I ain't even tryna spitt no player **** to you baby..boo, I'm rhyming from my heart girl, Yeah this song was written deep down from my soul girl..I really love you girl..This song is only dedicated to (you2), know who you are , You my (boo,2)..You so sweet, you my favorite candy, girl..Oo..Oo.., (best believe Dat*2)..you my only woman too..Oo..Oo.
It's just (you2)..the only one dat I think about girl...boo, its just (you2)..the one when I fall asleep, I dream about (you2..)..Aye & when I wake up Im still thinking about (you2)..(just you*2)..
I lust after you..& only (you2)..is all I really care for girl.. (Yeah you2)..(just you,Yeah*2)..
I adore..(you2)..girl Yeah..Yeah..just (you2)..baby..Yeah..Yeah..
Best believe it's just..(you2)..(just you2)..be on my mind so much Shawty..,I'm so crazy in love wit you..shit, I gotta put a ring on you soon, when I find ya best believe dat..(you best believe girl2)...you best believe.. (Yeah2)..Best believe me, best believe (Dat*2)..
I wanna taste you..Yeah..I wanna take you (away girl2)..(away from all the fucc shit2)..Yeah..from...(all the **** shit2)..that you gotta (deal wit2)..me girl..deal wit me girl..deal wit me Yeah...just (deal wit me,girl2)..(deal wit me2)..,you best believe girl..,(deal wit me girl2)..(deal wit me2)..,you best believe girl..,(deal wit me3)..girl, Yeah you best believe girl, you best believe, (deal wit me..3)
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 1:17 PM UTC
Marinate me in sterling serendipity;
a lace handkerchief blowing in electric blue
Chinook.
Howl and twist your obsidian spit down
her leather throat until she reproduces
glass golem.
Clang & the brass of the thunder,
muffled underneath a Reith that was last
lathered
in hathgraven gatherings.
**** him with your sour tongue
&
rag water whistle .
Cut him down from that arugula suspension
&
let gravity fold into him,
like an aluminum foil gargoyle,
crush to the core.
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 9:35 AM UTC
Mix hormones, sprouting hair, and teenage angst in melting ***
Add 2 cups of Varsity Sports
Blend in at least 3 leadership positions
Sprinkle AP & Honors classes liberally
Acquire obscure talent such as playing a Theremin
Add long-term anxiety disease
Brag constantly about how you helped Jakito, a small African child, on a mission trip
Drain all traces of possible love connection
Substitute sleep for academia
Bring stress to boil
Add spoonful of “legacy”
Separately mix “White Guilt” with a cup of diversity (Native American if available)
Marinate in SAT classes
Spread 2300mg of SAT on top
Shake Well
Ice decoratively with essays about Jakito
Most batches must be rejected
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 4:39 PM UTC
Dream in words and lines
They marinate
Black and white
Colors unimagined or named
The words awaken us and accomplish their feat
Do we dream verses?
Do they talk with us as if to say Write me down?
Record me
Take me to a higher level
Your fault if you forget
Sculpt me and find a fresh new way with me
My forever friend
Somehow you will accompany me now and forever more
So it goes and continues
Anatomy of a poem
c@rainbowchaser2021
Sep 21, 2021
Sep 21, 2021 at 9:24 AM UTC
one
we're intertwined
in imagined concepts
and we've got the same layout.
some sections colored the same
but we still look so different.
two
I feel like a story basket
locked in a casket,
avoiding spitting on graves.
you're the foam at the bottom:
all I have left and I want more.
I'm just a foam hound daddy,
a locked foam hawk.
you open your face, intoxication pouring out.
too much stimulation leads to lack of stimulation.
three
through my fingertips
budding beneath my eye lids.
I see what you're saying.
translate what you're feeling through my skin.
four
slabs of meat for hands,
place them on the stove.
(I feel better with my head close to the oven).
you've gotta soak in the seasons
or they'll fry off so fast,
it'll be all chew and no taste.
all **** and no chase.
I'm simmering
let me marinate.
five
social stimulation starts simmering smoothly.
six
okay,
I'll let my body make the decision when it remembers how to move.
too much to touch and not enough to stay away.
Mar 6, 2012
Mar 6, 2012 at 1:53 AM UTC
See it's easy to rap about
The ghetto
When u don't live in ghetto
We got blacks raps
Takin us back
And got whites makin fun
Of our slacks
You see it's apart of plan
To destroy society
Without the use of hands
Instead words laid over instrumentals
Once the voice is planted
It can become influential
Or detrimental
See thirty eight years ago
The ghetto was bout surviving police
Brutality and violence
And uprising of black unison
But it wasn't until ****** crack ******* from our beloved government
Entered the scene it became
A reality nightmare
Far from King 's
dream pushed away from teams
*** we wanted to be the next dope king
Pin enjoyin sin punishing pur women men and children
But we're helping the establishment
With the destruction of our race
We can't even look each other in the face
Yet we cry its about race
Yes socially mentality and economically
But in actuality the hood locality
Is where most of the hatred be
I see my folks walk around
Looking at me
Like I'm the reason behind slavery
And they mugg me
But don't mug the p-o-l-i-c-e
Feel me so duck the ghetto
The pimps the hoes
The dope the jewels the clothes
Its nothing but holes
In a womb far from being patched up
Wake up and let's abrupt
And stop letting stereotypes corrupt
Our mindset
We natural born warriors
our existence is fearful
Enough towards them
So let this marinate to ya temple
And stop being so love struck
By the
**** luxury of the ghetto
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 8:44 PM UTC
Words are ****
They make me want to rip a pillow with my teeth
Or marinate in a sensuous heat.
Where you'll be, sitting there.
Waiting to kiss my spine and touch my hair.
Tell me regaling tales of what you think.
Of what is rational or obsolete.
Worlds like *Suggestive, Sarcastic.
Forlorn* and Bombastic.
Makes my skin melt and heart palpitate.
I will no longer settle for those who are adequate.
I need substance. I need someone (you) to say.
That you're enamored and beg me to stay.
I want that learned passion that only we
could portray.
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 2:06 AM UTC
I like to let the words sit
Marinate inside my soul
I need the rhymes to be good
So people swallow them whole
I want tears to pour out their eyes
To cry, to sob, to laugh
I want them to ask for more
And never stop coming back
Aug 10, 2010
Aug 10, 2010 at 4:19 PM UTC
Music is a free spirit roaming round,
freeing souls and stealing souls.
and the funny thing is,
we're all meant to pay for it.
Just let that marinate, before its too late.
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 4:59 AM UTC
I need a real man...
A man with real eyes..
A man that can see beauty in and outside
A man that is strong enough to handle these
thighs
Sometimes guys say the dumbest ****
I'm like what the world...
Such as Ayyyy yo, you'r fine to be a big girl.
I try to look laugh and push on... But a part of me
instantly felt resentment.
Where are the real men that know how to compliment....
He had to be mistaken thinking by his approach I
was pleased.
I guess to him for a big girl I had skinny girl
qualities...
I was NOT impressed by his senseless comment.
His ignorance has caused my shoulder to have a
chip.
Why not address the long natural curly length of
my hair my clear skin, or brown eyes or even my
virtuous hips.
He could even acknowledge the New Mac shade
on my lips.
I'm smart intelligent well spoken and I speak my
mind quick.
Don't ever address my beauty in saying to be
thick.
Then he had the nerve to request my number. I
gave him a BIG rejection.
I let it be known the next time come to a woman
correct, if he doesn't want disconnection.
Truth be told I am a mere image of God's
reflection.
NOW let that marinate in your soul.
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 7:52 AM UTC
A marinate was played
Full of granite and fine rings
A bathtub of nosebleeds Danny and a bathtub of kings
All the cards that were dealt all the hands that we played pulled the curtain bell
Of my sleeve up to delay what I'd say and
All the cards we swept under the rug Danny all the music we screamed
From my sore throat and broken hands came the sound of suffering on a silent note in an empty room a bell jar and a piano and a single key being pressed in time to the sound of my weeping Danny
My friends ignored my cries
But here we are now with a new drum set and two sets of sticks for hands and we break everything we try to touch Danny thinking it can be played like the single key in that lonely room
Listen there are vultures in my throat in all my baby teeth and landlocked blues
I know that's the name of the song but I wanted to play it for you
Just in case you forgot I could sing out my suffering
And it doesn't sound so horrible now does it Danny
Because you don't know the story it tells
The blood diamond behind the curtain
Well it glimmers just as well
And I'm sure we can find a way to forgive ourselves for everything that was done
But I'm in a two step programme
Where everything gets reversed
And no I haven't slept in weeks Danny you're right I know I look like ****
I just haven't had time to think about what I'm putting in me
When I try to scream and I come up on a single static piano key
Listen there are ways we broke each-other and I'm sorry I tried
But the sound of my suffering
Doesn't mean waving goodbye
Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 4:20 PM UTC
it's called the Mt. Everest of cuisine
without food critics...
- so i gather the chinese are not
too keen on deserts, esp. chocolate?
that fake aphrodisiac of feminism's
excuses of eager beavers in early
age trying to find a dumb schmuck
later on in life and making him
docile, effectively curbing his
****** appetite, translated as
domestic violence after they went to *** parties
with rich boy sons of billionaires?
- well the chinese do like sweet & sour
and sweet & salty cuisine.
- indeed... quiet the deviation.
- and if it ain't sweet & sour or sweet & salty...
- compared with indian cuisine, it's quiet bland.
yes, today got cooking orange chicken,
what a playful, but a mysterious glutton dish...
the marinate was not like the marinate
i'm used to, it was so diluted...
orange juice, caster sugar, soya sauce,
malt vinegar, orange zest,
ginger and garlic paste,
finely grated onion - a bit of chicken,
half the marinate content soaking up
the chicken refrigerated for 1/2 an hour,
the rest heated to a boil, cornflour added
to thicken in...
then the marinated chicken taken
out of the marinate, dipped in egg
then cornflour and fried (mini schnitzels
of the east), in three batches...
then coated in the remaining marinate
of prior heated with cornflower,
a custard too thick that orange juice had to be
added, then evaporated so the essence
got soaked up... mm... a playful, but a mysterious
glutton dish... yummy.
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 9:44 PM UTC
read this aloud, mind the punctuation,
and, finally,
enjoy.
amethyst eyes alight with nighttime lightning, clapping lashes spark ruminations rumbling across the savannah of memory imprinting in me the afterimage of Now. Now, Now makes me hers -- though i’m more willing a captive than she imagines: imprisoned in the present, tasting the electricity resounding in this soundless cell () deafeningly solid --
she grooves before me.
slowly rolls me
me rolls slowly
molasses boiling tongues twisting towards me
ba-da doom ba-doom doom doom.
i don’t know if it’s the fireflies caught in midnight-amber jars suspended by strands of suicidal curls tumbling down the pitch of your back,
or
your touch, come tentatively, but nonetheless titillating, for it softly pleas me to get grounded, stay a while in the timbre of warm fireside conversation and cocoa,
or
your teacup of a navel compelling i to lift laughter, fish up reminiscences, and transcend time,
or
when you lean close and lick me with your eyelash, as if a butterfly’s kiss,
or
your soft voice smoothly singing songs of four-lettered blues . . .
. . . my god you’re gorgeous.
dance with me, Now for two more turns of the moon let’s defy posterity and traverse the curves of each other’s words and purge our selves of self let’s anesthetize Now, marinate in the moment, savor the silence and become sap-trapped fossils left for the future let’s live a lifetime together in two more turns of the moon, Now, so that I may memorize every quark of every electron of every neutron of every proton of every atom of every ion of every molecule of every cell of every sinew of every tissue of every ***** and every system of all your beauty, Now, you are perfect because you are am is and will never be anywhere else but here and nothing else but Now.
feel me?
feel her?
feel here?
Now.
Feb 2, 2010
Feb 2, 2010 at 12:06 PM UTC
A broken mirror of my reflection
A shriek of pain from repeating rejection
A complex scheme
To learn a lesson
****** palms as I play psalms
Picking up the pieces of a life at risk
Started out with pricked fingers
Now I'm avoiding a ****** wrist
A deteriorating gas is pressing to exit my mind
It eats away at every sane thought left inside
Where do I go when it's my true self that I have to hide
Everything I say is a constant mistake
So I grit my teeth till they ache and I mumble words until they marinate
Working on self love but the moments like these that are within myself are the ones that I hate
I search for repression but where do I begin
When this is all I know
When there's always the question of an end
Save me from myself because Lord knows I've sinned
I'd take it all back if I could run it again
I hope he doesn't lose faith in me
He's my only friend
It seems like ever since this has began I've been blessed with a beautiful curse
I ask God for the best but I still expected the worst
Maybe this is what happens
When everything is diverse
See it in my eyes
See the rift in my soul
See the angry love
Burning a hole
See the ache for expectance
Taking a toll
Skins red but it's feels cold
For the content that makes up me
It grits down like sand
All I ever wanted
Was a loving hand
They tell me I'll be okay
But I don't think they understand
For this is not a human quality
I am merely man
I am left to supply
When commitment was my only demand
Two judges and one man
Will I be enough when I take the stand
(r.n.)
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 11:39 PM UTC
Hey you
ignorant uneducated
prideful loathsome
self-righteous glib
donkey
Take your opinions
Dice em up
Marinate them
Throw em in a ***
Bring to a boil
And simmer on low
Plate it
With bias on the side
Stare at your meal
And salivate
Like the dog you are
Chew it slow
Taste every bitter
Gritty crumb
Maybe then you'll
See your reflection
In the bottom
Of your dish
And be just as
Disgusted as me.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 6:33 PM UTC
parse and praise the phrase,
checkerboard fraction,
appréhendé immédiatement,
a poem title!
put aside to marinate,
stamped "will not expire,"
doing the research legwork,
**** it is a real thing!
toujours,
where the best words and titles come from,
if one listens well
romantic notions swell the chest,
all the love affairs over so many decades,
all checkerboard games
with Kings a-crowning and Queens a-moaning,
poet, no way, never planned ahead,
always lost by a fractious split,
more than a fractional loss,
losing
most triumphantly!
each lover took and left a fraction behind,
a numerator, a denominator, never a whole number,
for then there would be no poetry need
you want,
have need for
une idée fixe
whom I should be, but i could be a
multiple choice answer
a three scoop ice cream treat,
or perhaps, a mix of forty favorered flavors
a new one,
chaque coup,
why not?
our first disagreement
both of us wish to nominate the other to be the nominator
the denominator is a definition of what is the whole
because i am gracious,
foolish and less than whole
already
I concede cause I am in already in retreat,
conceding comes supernaturally nowadays,
so move me forward on the checkerboard
and triple jump me, and any way
I am pas de nom
we close today with an American
yay...
Sep 26, 2017
Sep 26, 2017 at 2:48 PM UTC
don’t know what you call this,
it’s labeled a whatever thing.
you’re leading me,
to inconsistency.
tired of your mystery,
this isn’t suppose to be a puzzle piece,
can’t you see that i’m falling apart without you?
call it emotional dependence,
but if you cared just as you say you do,
you’d prove who and what you are,
instead of eluding to the truth.
burning through these possibilities,
how about you,
light a match, and,
guide us to the direction of nevermeanttobe.
do I have to remind you again?
how to act,
and listen.
just listen,
you make me feel like i’m high above,
the clouds of doubt that fill your mind at the worst of night,
causing me to lose track of time.
when it’s time to go,
we pack our bags,
forget to say goodbye.
if you were truly what i gained,
you wouldn’t mind tiring or lying to me.
i’ll accept it for what it is,
cause you’ll reminisce,
leave me to guess,
then wrap me all up in your head;
not as a present,
but to mark the esssence of having the nerve to speak to me.
i shouldn’t have to open the door,
place the keys on your front lawn,
just to see you move on from me again.
advice runs around my mind,
telling me things that i do not like,
how you like to lick your lips,
to marinate a thousand more lies and excuses,
feeling unashamed and inveterate every time.
shamelessly you make me yours and I make you mine;
oh, i don’t know what to call this.
memories of you and me,
raid through these homemade remedies,
for once and for all, trying to forget you;
for the love of Christ, why do I feel inclined to you?
you’ll call me once,
or maybe twice,
and i’ll pick up,
just to hear you cry, and whine,
about the things you can’t achieve in life.
because this life is like a marathon to you,
don’t race along when you feel rushed,
you’ll just forget to pace yourself.
my innocence is wearing thin,
you’re wearing me all across her chest,
and neck,
tell me you’re numb and can’t go through it again,
don’t feel nothing.
i’ll convince myself that you are here,
that you are here to hear what i feel is true and finally listen.
as the days go by,
i allow time to slip through fingertips,
time after time,
you make me out to be the biggest fool.
when i brag about you to them,
they suggest i don’t get too fond of you,
nevertheless, i’ll drift and float to dizziness;
disregard the past conversation,
while actively pursuing to revitalize the old one again.
these perpexlexing parts are hard to find,
i look around, note one to none,
and none to suffice;
there it goes, so i, lose track of you.
Feb 18, 2019
Feb 18, 2019 at 9:48 PM UTC
California....I love to hate this place,
Gas prices high people getting high on a false sense of reality....lets get it right
Exotic cars and intellectual flaws
Riding down the boulevard
**** can I drive without the admonishment of getting far..?
Dreams of impacting the world one country at a time
Schemes of people full of vanity, fallacies that aren't mine...
Can I dance with the moonlight like King Harvest and not be sued for human rights...?
The waves of excitement once stimulated my thoughts, Filled with nightmares and dreams a southern jezzabelle once taught...
What can you do for me and what I can't do for you; the nightlight just caught...
Yet I remain humble, though I stumble through the golden coast that boast dreams a civil war couldn't fault...
Dreams of californication....with laid back sentiments and pornification...
Can I wake up from this guitar riff of fornication?
Yet I Vibrate....And marinate on this pointification...
Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 11:54 PM UTC
I’ve been fighting, my whole life
As I see you enjoy your time
I can’t help to wonder
Of who you truly are
You know you’ve been playing life
On easy
While the rest of us try to fight our way
To the top
You’re out here looking to the bottom
As if you’re immune to the fall
Don’t worry it won’t hurt at all
The accuser works hard
But you need to work harder
And if you’re scared then remember
At least you won’t make it past the bottom
“These days seem so dull”
Can’t say I can relate to your problem
Wondering of what you could be
I’m out here pinching pennies
Just to make it through the mourning
Let me hate you from afar
It’s what cowards do
Wishing you could join their misery
And marinate in hate
No one understands them
For only they have the right
To rule the world
Your struggles never mattered
It’s not what they focus on
They’ll keep on tossing and turning
Wishing they could be just you
But for now just enjoy your privilege
Before the tides turn
Life wasn’t always fair for them
But life wasn’t always fair to you too
Jan 21, 2021
Jan 21, 2021 at 5:23 AM UTC