"microwaving" poems - Hello Poetry

I took a walk today and listened to the birds choking on the smog, broke my mother's back with every step and outran a stray dog. I picked you a bouquet of dandelions from the field because flowers can't grow when the sun's always concealed. I put them in a vase and filled it with water from the tap they died within an hour, now I know for sure you won't come back. I always swore I'd never own a broken home but it's hard not to when the only one's who stay are the garden gnomes — but someone's been smashing them in the middle of the night, or maybe they're blowing out their brains to escape my company and the blight. There's no magic left in this city, so chronically gray storms are always passing though and the rainbows are too scared to stay... I wanted to run away with you from the hood and past the burbs to somewhere where the air is clean and filled with singing birds. But instead I'm stuck here on this couch, microwaving Ramen while I search for words.

0

Jan 21, 2015

Jan 21, 2015 at 2:00 PM UTC

ChaseGagnon

Rhyme for Detroit

I took a walk today and listened to the birds choking on the smog, broke my mother's back with every step and outran a stray dog. I picked you a bouquet of dandelions from the field because flowers can't grow when the sun's always concealed. I put them in a vase and filled it with water from the tap they died within an hour, now I know for sure you won't come back. I always swore I'd never own a broken home but it's hard not to when the only one's who stay are the garden gnomes — but someone's been smashing them in the middle of the night, or maybe they're blowing out their brains to escape my company and the blight. There's no magic left in this city, so chronically gray storms are always passing though and the rainbows are too scared to stay... I wanted to run away with you from the hood and past the burbs to somewhere where the air is clean and filled with singing birds. But instead I'm stuck here on this couch, microwaving Ramen while I search for words.

34

I have never felt more alone, gripping this coffee mug, sat up in the center of my queen sized bed. And it never gets old, choosing the cutest coffee mug that no one will see me drink out of. I could just sip from a plastic cup but I don't think I'm ready to give the act up. I have never felt more alone, microwaving cool coffee in a cute mug. Because, the truth is I could only drink from Styrofoam, But the roses painted on the warm ceramic in my hand make me feel like the kind of girl you'd wanna lay in bed with all day, So, for now, I won't have any, I'll just keep it warm until you call to say you're on your way.

0

Sep 22, 2014

Sep 22, 2014 at 11:46 PM UTC

Unsentimental

Pink Rose Coffee Mug (from the dollar store)

I have never felt more alone, gripping this coffee mug, sat up in the center of my queen sized bed. And it never gets old, choosing the cutest coffee mug that no one will see me drink out of. I could just sip from a plastic cup but I don't think I'm ready to give the act up. I have never felt more alone, microwaving cool coffee in a cute mug. Because, the truth is I could only drink from Styrofoam, But the roses painted on the warm ceramic in my hand make me feel like the kind of girl you'd wanna lay in bed with all day, So, for now, I won't have any, I'll just keep it warm until you call to say you're on your way.

10

My jealousy is not a thing of beauty. I don't wear my envy daintily on my sleeves, I scribble it on my hands and face with a cheap green crayon. Looking at you feels like my heart is microwaving aluminum foil on high. Not because I'm jealous of what you have but because I'm jealous of what we could've been together, had circumstances been different. If one day you had sat here instead of there and maybe we would've been friends and what if what if what if— I'm jealous because apparently there are people in the world who don't spend every minute overthinking who don't feel the need to analyze every little detail and wouldn't it be nice to breathe, to breathe and not think.

0

Sep 24, 2017

Sep 24, 2017 at 10:05 PM UTC

vermilliontoad

Coloring Book

My jealousy is not a thing of beauty. I don't wear my envy daintily on my sleeves, I scribble it on my hands and face with a cheap green crayon. Looking at you feels like my heart is microwaving aluminum foil on high. Not because I'm jealous of what you have but because I'm jealous of what we could've been together, had circumstances been different. If one day you had sat here instead of there and maybe we would've been friends and what if what if what if— I'm jealous because apparently there are people in the world who don't spend every minute overthinking who don't feel the need to analyze every little detail and wouldn't it be nice to breathe, to breathe and not think.

22

Out of the womb into the microwave. The woodpecker and the tree. Following the dead into the sea. Undead in murky darkness, the darkness of a pale light. Shimmering through the second presence in my room. Necromancer raises me like a zombie from my tomb. Standing on the precipice of the sleeping and the awake, The siren sings through the holes in my head, She likes me better when I am half dead. She likes to play the dead girl when I'm awake. When I close my eyes the dead dream of me. Through their eyes I follow them into the sea. It is here where I meet the woodpecker and become the tree. A brain cell pops, When her song starts. Her disembodied voice comes through the video. My song skips when it comes on the radio. Fading in and out like a ghost, Possessing me when she needs me the most. It is too **** loud! Turn down the volume! Heard it ever since I was born! ******* me into a vacuum! A silent place, Where no one can hear me scream! The baby bunny lost it's head, The ones thought to be invincible, Have all been found dead, In a telephone booth. Loveless love, in an electric god's house; Microwaving brains, in the woodpecker's soup. She used my axe to hack off my limbs, Replacing them with parts made of tin. She killed the lights fast enough, For darkness to catch up. I've forgotten how to love. How do you even love, Something that doesn't love? Get this woodpecker outta my head, It's making me hear the dead.

0

Jun 22, 2019

Jun 22, 2019 at 5:31 PM UTC

MisfitOfSociety

Woodpecker

Out of the womb into the microwave. The woodpecker and the tree. Following the dead into the sea. Undead in murky darkness, the darkness of a pale light. Shimmering through the second presence in my room. Necromancer raises me like a zombie from my tomb. Standing on the precipice of the sleeping and the awake, The siren sings through the holes in my head, She likes me better when I am half dead. She likes to play the dead girl when I'm awake. When I close my eyes the dead dream of me. Through their eyes I follow them into the sea. It is here where I meet the woodpecker and become the tree. A brain cell pops, When her song starts. Her disembodied voice comes through the video. My song skips when it comes on the radio. Fading in and out like a ghost, Possessing me when she needs me the most. It is too **** loud! Turn down the volume! Heard it ever since I was born! ******* me into a vacuum! A silent place, Where no one can hear me scream! The baby bunny lost it's head, The ones thought to be invincible, Have all been found dead, In a telephone booth. Loveless love, in an electric god's house; Microwaving brains, in the woodpecker's soup. She used my axe to hack off my limbs, Replacing them with parts made of tin. She killed the lights fast enough, For darkness to catch up. I've forgotten how to love. How do you even love, Something that doesn't love? Get this woodpecker outta my head, It's making me hear the dead.

42

No one comes to see me In the basement, comes to know What is up in attics But a screwy lightbulb's glow Which more than one it took to change My empty canvas walls From her Mona Lisa smile Into Jackson Pollack halls Having food fights with myself And cleaning plates of thought Yet leaving ***** dishes of The hungry nights they brought To an appetite for more Than the kitchens we confine Each microwaving minute To the tombs in which we dine Though silverware is sterling And gold the chandelier The finest china only made My family disappear Leaving me to parlor tricks To stoke my fire places And locked inside the study Of my most unwelcome spaces Where I learned of outside worlds Far beyond my private property And wrote of how to share them In a game of life monopoly Then took a **** on status quo And flushed away the norm And shaved with cold steel sharpened on The water's never warm For in this house-divided I'm a one-man civil war Armed with rebel causes For a union to restore So my doors and windows are Always open for my guests But underneath the floorboard's Where I take all your requests

0

Feb 2, 2017

Feb 2, 2017 at 1:30 AM UTC

michael-marchese

Home Alone

No one comes to see me In the basement, comes to know What is up in attics But a screwy lightbulb's glow Which more than one it took to change My empty canvas walls From her Mona Lisa smile Into Jackson Pollack halls Having food fights with myself And cleaning plates of thought Yet leaving ***** dishes of The hungry nights they brought To an appetite for more Than the kitchens we confine Each microwaving minute To the tombs in which we dine Though silverware is sterling And gold the chandelier The finest china only made My family disappear Leaving me to parlor tricks To stoke my fire places And locked inside the study Of my most unwelcome spaces Where I learned of outside worlds Far beyond my private property And wrote of how to share them In a game of life monopoly Then took a **** on status quo And flushed away the norm And shaved with cold steel sharpened on The water's never warm For in this house-divided I'm a one-man civil war Armed with rebel causes For a union to restore So my doors and windows are Always open for my guests But underneath the floorboard's Where I take all your requests

40

First it was pancakes Then strawberry milk Then frozen mini pizzas Didn't taste the way They always had But I sure kept trying With apple juice from a glass Then a box and swirly straw But the crust Still wasn't soft enough So I gave microwaving a shot Years and years of beeps But the cheese was crunchy The centers, icy So I tried thawing, soaking Kids Cuisine and Lean Cuisine And even Lunchables Just in case the companies Had fooled me, ruined the recipe But none of them were bad Just not great Like they used to be So I blamed my taste buds For maturing Copying my imaginiation Christmas used to be funner Summer used to be longer Mini pizzas used to be delicious Well Today I cracked the code I was in a rush Like Mama used to be Didn't let the oven preheat Just slid in a tray of Frozen mini pizzas Kicking myself for procrastinating grocery shopping yet again and - Beep! The timer blared, the smoke alarm I burned my finger, then my tongue But didn't care because My taste buds Hadn't forsaken me After all The crust was chewy The cheese was gooey I'd done it I was six years old again Now if only I can find a trick That works for Christmas

0

Nov 16, 2018

Nov 16, 2018 at 7:41 PM UTC

saigeldred

Frozen Mini Pizzas

First it was pancakes Then strawberry milk Then frozen mini pizzas Didn't taste the way They always had But I sure kept trying With apple juice from a glass Then a box and swirly straw But the crust Still wasn't soft enough So I gave microwaving a shot Years and years of beeps But the cheese was crunchy The centers, icy So I tried thawing, soaking Kids Cuisine and Lean Cuisine And even Lunchables Just in case the companies Had fooled me, ruined the recipe But none of them were bad Just not great Like they used to be So I blamed my taste buds For maturing Copying my imaginiation Christmas used to be funner Summer used to be longer Mini pizzas used to be delicious Well Today I cracked the code I was in a rush Like Mama used to be Didn't let the oven preheat Just slid in a tray of Frozen mini pizzas Kicking myself for procrastinating grocery shopping yet again and - Beep! The timer blared, the smoke alarm I burned my finger, then my tongue But didn't care because My taste buds Hadn't forsaken me After all The crust was chewy The cheese was gooey I'd done it I was six years old again Now if only I can find a trick That works for Christmas

50

At two AM the refrigerator deliberately beckons me screaming all of it's offerings, like a maniac banshee I oft succumb to its wiles and to the treasures within bending over painfully, perusing all the lowly shelved sins Jimmy Dean sandwiches, frozen burritos, Swanson *** pies minutes of radiation, oblivious of cost, forever on the thighs Using my emotions, to justify all of my consumption can't see my knees or toes, that's a pretty safe assumption It's not that I couldn't go for a walk in the park I prefer it here all alone, microwaving, in the dark

0

Jan 19, 2017

Jan 19, 2017 at 1:27 PM UTC

TemporalFugue

Weighing on my mind

At two AM the refrigerator deliberately beckons me screaming all of it's offerings, like a maniac banshee I oft succumb to its wiles and to the treasures within bending over painfully, perusing all the lowly shelved sins Jimmy Dean sandwiches, frozen burritos, Swanson *** pies minutes of radiation, oblivious of cost, forever on the thighs Using my emotions, to justify all of my consumption can't see my knees or toes, that's a pretty safe assumption It's not that I couldn't go for a walk in the park I prefer it here all alone, microwaving, in the dark

10

Waking up everyday at a decent time possibly on little to no sleep Rushing to eat something that’s good for your body and easy on the wallet Attempting to make it to school or work on time Trying to smile and keep a social composure the entire day Deciding to skip lunch because you want that extra money Taking those extra hours of overtime when your coworker doesn’t come to work knowing you have to get by somehow Coming home to eat alone Microwaving the left overs in the fridge because you’re too tired too cook something on the stove Watching Netflix until your eyes burn yet you can’t seem to fall asleep And everyday you wonder Is this what we are supposed to be Lifeless obeying mindless zombies Where did we come from Why Why are we here Everyday thinking to yourself if only you could find a way to change the world It’s that endless cycle That everyday motion And the constant wonder and confusion Wondering whom you’re supposed to truly be in this word Goodnight universe

0

Jul 2, 2018

Jul 2, 2018 at 8:09 PM UTC

ariel-osowski

The endless motion of commotion

Waking up everyday at a decent time possibly on little to no sleep Rushing to eat something that’s good for your body and easy on the wallet Attempting to make it to school or work on time Trying to smile and keep a social composure the entire day Deciding to skip lunch because you want that extra money Taking those extra hours of overtime when your coworker doesn’t come to work knowing you have to get by somehow Coming home to eat alone Microwaving the left overs in the fridge because you’re too tired too cook something on the stove Watching Netflix until your eyes burn yet you can’t seem to fall asleep And everyday you wonder Is this what we are supposed to be Lifeless obeying mindless zombies Where did we come from Why Why are we here Everyday thinking to yourself if only you could find a way to change the world It’s that endless cycle That everyday motion And the constant wonder and confusion Wondering whom you’re supposed to truly be in this word Goodnight universe

21

Dragging my sorry looking *** into another sorry looking day and some say, a day is what you make of it, Sheeit. This way of life is only good for termites and moles, to build or burrow I furrow my brows in thought ideas that come to nought, but I ain't 'bought the farm' yet. It's only when you're looked for how lost you know you've become. mostly it's a good thing and sometimes it is not Life brings to me a promise of security that's got to be worth a lot. I'm still dragging my heels a hundredweight of lead on my shoulders ( not from the church roof ) and as God is my witness that's the Gods honest truth. Work is the **** or the cure me and I'm sure that she would agree.

0

Sep 12, 2017

Sep 12, 2017 at 1:54 AM UTC

john-edward-smallshaw

Microwaving moments

Dragging my sorry looking *** into another sorry looking day and some say, a day is what you make of it, Sheeit. This way of life is only good for termites and moles, to build or burrow I furrow my brows in thought ideas that come to nought, but I ain't 'bought the farm' yet. It's only when you're looked for how lost you know you've become. mostly it's a good thing and sometimes it is not Life brings to me a promise of security that's got to be worth a lot. I'm still dragging my heels a hundredweight of lead on my shoulders ( not from the church roof ) and as God is my witness that's the Gods honest truth. Work is the **** or the cure me and I'm sure that she would agree.

30