"nutella" poems
i miss you
the way Obama misses his intelligence briefings
i finally cleaned out my bedroom
threw out
all the legos i always accidentally stepped on
all of the crusty pieces of Argentine food i wasn't ready to let go of
you are a jedi
or perhaps just my best friend
some people hurt your eyes like neon when you see them
but you don't
you are nutella
and i am a butterknife
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 2:07 PM UTC
I want two bottle nutella
I want three pack of skittles
I want two Pepsi
I want fried chicken with cajun seasoning
I want lasagna
Mostly i want foods
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 9:27 PM UTC
I want to lay in my bed
Next to you
At seven in the morning.
"Crepes?"
"Crepes." You say.
I get up
and start the crepe maker
I put out the Nutella
And cut bananas
And pull out the jar of lingonberries that
I love
Even though nobody knows
What lingonberries are.
You ask for peanut butter
And we both know I'm allergic.
But I have a jar
Because I know that
You love it.
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 3:53 PM UTC
you play
finger puppets
in the black sky
warm
unperturbed
little worms
eating
hot soil
and foot
“I’m going to
eat this star.
Actually, I’m going
to eat them all.
I’m awfully
hungry.”
you find the
nutella I hid
under the rock
and dip the
puppets in
“Did you know
I sew?
I sewed these
puppets.
Even
the little black
eyes and the
teensy red
buttons. All in
the patience
this sky taught
me.”
your mouth
is dry and
you search
for lake water
“I swear, it’s
so hard being
a fish in
Arizona.”
the desert
agrees
once
we prayed for
rain and danced
naked in
the sand
now it’s
night and
the sand went
to sleep
now it’s night
and the stars
are disks
“Lord, take
me now. I’m a
painter, a
painter without
color.”
the act is
over
the shield
put down
and the night
swallows
disks
as you lick
chocolate paint
from your
fingers
“Goodnight, friend.
Sleep well, fish.
Until tomorrow, moon.”
your body
fresh
black
the emerald
of color
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 11:08 AM UTC
deli meats and cheeses
i look past them at soft crinkling smiling faces
and i drink my java
warms up my hands and ******* and i sweat
in my coat
walking up and down the isles
I see trail mix
and sunchips
and sweet sweet sweets
the yummies
that i adore
chocolates
especially
dark chocolate cocoa orange cherry strawberry berry red brown
it's the sweetness and saltiness
of summer time ice cream
It's the cold crispness
of carrots and snap peas
It's the warmth and comfort
of big muffins and a plate of hashbrowns
at Perkin's
after a stressful morning
spice smells
of pad tai noodles
sourdough bread, fresh baked
crunch crunch on the outside
soft hot squish
inside
(save that part for me, i eat them separate
-you laugh)
how many times did we
laugh
about how you ate that bug
and we were never picky
*cherries
all those cherries.*
we ate nutella
on bread,
washed it down with cold organic orange juice
from a cafe neither of us had ever heard of
and tofu
tofu tofu
always cooked perfectly (we wondered how they do it)
(i still don't know)
chocolate, melting slowly
"you missed some."
-------just an excuse to kiss me.
i giggle
peanut m&m;'s
turn my tongue colors.
Watermelon at a potluck
wedding cake
cheesy potatoes
and an extra helping of bread
(we laughed so hard at the white bread, squished into a cube)
ruby red
made you wince
I drink it straight from the bottle
and smile
remembering every kiss
that tasted of grapefruit
in that tent
every kiss that tasted of salt
from the eggs?
or from the sweat on your lips
the sweat on your lips.
we kiss more
i smile into your lips
i remember that, especially
we never got sick of each other
nutella on everything, now.
especially on s'mores
i smile with every memory
i put my hands in pockets, the cold rushes to meet my face
in the ice cream aisle
i cool down as i graze
through the tubs or corn syrup and double churned triple churned
cream with extra fudge
sherbet
i chuckle to myself
memories memories
of sitting up high
with you,
sand on our toes
chocolate caramel fudge coffee
on our tongues
love
in our hearts
you remember.
the taste of that summer
Nov 9, 2011
Nov 9, 2011 at 8:12 PM UTC
Scrape,scrape,scrape.
Sounds of sad desperate melody as one would agree,
Tok-scrape-pause }x3
The happy anthem is ending,hun.
Might as well give up,
corners are mere torture,
twisting,turning,
every angle you turn that butter knife,
It doesn't reach where you want it to.
The happy anthem is ending,
the desperate background and torturous beat
comes to an end,
leaving an imprint of sadness in your mind.
no more nutella for you.
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 1:10 PM UTC
nutella and bread
riding next to you
as we traveled to the school ahead
adventuring the same path
every break of day
I wore a scarf and a coat
to contain my heartbreak
it was winter after all
you drove me insane
I was helplessly in love with our past
it was as if I was mourning the loss
of when I had you last
while we were still intertwined
looking back now
my love for you never died
I could love you forever
and we still wouldn't be
my handfuls of surrender
aren't enough for you and me
Sep 22, 2012
Sep 22, 2012 at 2:24 AM UTC
I walked past my pantry
Late one Friday night
To the sounds of what appeared to be
The goings on of a party inside
I grabbed a hold the latches
Swung wide open the door
With absolutely no earthly idea
Of what was soon in store
Colorful lights were flashing
Somewhere in the back
I moved aside the ketchup and mayo
To see where it was at
I took out the pickles and saltine's
So I could better see
What all the commotion was inside
Of my food pantry
That's when I saw the flashing lights
Inside the jar of Nutella
I picked it up right away
Me being a some what curious fella
As I held it at eye level
It vibrated in my hands
In what felt like a driving rhythm
From a 70's Disco band
Can't say I wasn't nervous
As I loosened up the lid
No telling what was going on inside
What dangers lay ahead
With both hands slightly shaking
I removed the rounded top
There was a party in the making
And it was going on non stop
The Nutella had it's boogie on
Or if you prefer, it's groove
Whatever you wish to call it
A party was the mood
There was a strobe light and confetti
Even a tiny Disco ball
As I gazed over the edge of the jar
I saw banners wall to wall
I guess you could say Nutella
Is quite the party treat
That may cost you at the grocery store
But once home the cover charge is free
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 8:22 AM UTC
When you leave
I fear I will pluck each strand of hair
From my entire head
And produce so many tears
That I dry up like desert sand
And blow away in the arid breeze.
I am nothing.
Until you come back,
And take the time
To braid the hairs together,
And collect each grain of sand.
Nutella-sticky fingers glue me all into one piece
With squeezey hugs and blanket fort cuddles.
And I'll forget you ever even left.
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 4:46 PM UTC
Boy left me feeling raw and pink, like the baby born a comma in the taxi
17 years ago. Boy left me feeling like Aunt, who didn’t know any better,
but still knew it all, and now she looks like a graveyard. When I was 14, I went
to her funeral, sat Shiva with her (my?) family, didn’t allow myself to cry, but I did.
Opened Photo Booth app. on my MacBook when I got home, because I didn’t know
what my tears looked like – I just wanted to see myself cry. I love crying,
and I love when other people cry. I think that I don’t like crying alone, but I do;
I keep people on speed dial, so that they can hear me cry. Boy used
to be on my speed dial. He and Aunt were the only ones who could
unravel my guts, but then Boy raveled them back up again. He gave me up
for the Girl with Brown Hair living in the next town over. She lives in a house
that quakes, and tilts. They say houses are like dogs. That people buy houses
that look like themselves. My house has a rich, bleeding door, and shingles
that try to bring me back to nature. I am the exception, although I do try
to bring myself back to nature. There is a forest in the back of my house –
it is brown, and deep, and swallows the monsters stuck in the squiggles
of my eyes. Last year, I went to the forest at night, and slept there. My mother
didn’t know. My father didn’t know. They’ll never know. My father
would have been okay with it, if I had asked. My father called himself
a pushover when writing his brain’s biography, and I murmured in agreement
when I read it. Or thought I read it, but I don’t know how to read properly yet.
I can’t keep characters in my head. I eat characters
for breakfast, along with Nutella. I’m 5’5”, and weigh 130 lbs., and buckle over
when I walk, because my crying weighs 50 lbs., so I push the Nutella
out of my stomach. The Nutella is in Boy’s stomach. Probably in
Girl with Brown Hair’s stomach now, too. I miss Aunt. I wish
she could eat Nutella with me. Next week, I’ll bring a jar of it to her grave,
and a camera. Cry and have a photo shoot, maybe, because I don’t know any better.
Sep 22, 2012
Sep 22, 2012 at 10:30 AM UTC
I know that
You will never write me a love letter
Or a song
You will never know how I hate Oreos
Or Nutella
You will never sing me to sleep
Or cuddle me 'till morning
You will never hold my hand
Or brush away the stray hairs off my face
But I perfectly know,
I have never even crossed your mind
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 8:13 AM UTC
I stole your copy of Green Eggs and Ham.
I never meant to,
not like the clothing and paints I finagled from your dismissive fingers.
And we stopped talking.
Oh we didn't mean to,
there was no clamorous declaration this is the end
No sharp event that caused us two to break apart.
And yet this afternoon
Sitting alone by my window eating nutella with a spoon,
I couldn't say precisely that I miss you
without even knowing how long it was since we spoke.
But I think
Some time
it might be nice to show you my new hat
and paints
and return your old Green Eggs and Ham
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 1:14 PM UTC
A coffee on my right side
With a teaspoon of brewed coffee,
A tablespoon of creamer to make it fuller
And a teaspoon of sugar to add a little bit of sweetness.
A bread on my left side
With overflowing nutella
That I can't control
And I just smile to the fullest.
A notebook and a pen in front me
Mixing it all together to fill up my soul
To reminisce those pain that I had
That turns into a memory now.
Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 8:03 PM UTC
We order a mushroom-cheese omelet
Now see you’re the kind of guy who eats jam on toast
And I’m the kind of girl who doesn’t eat toast as all
So when the plate comes, I give you both pieces of toast
And you spread the strawberry jam on it
While I’m busy cutting the omelet in half
But before taking a bite of anything
We both pick up a hashbrown simultaneously
As if somehow we’d planned the entire thing
And we both take a bite of it and
We love it
It’s cooked to perfection and potatoes are my weakness
Back to the omlet though,
So I’m not that great at cutting
And the omelet cut unevenly in half
So you take the smaller piece
Even though you’re bigger than me
And I steal the bigger piece
Even though I’m smaller than you
And you eat your half in three bites
While I’m struggling with mine
And the string cheese is caught somewhere between
My fingers, my mouth and the plate
And it takes me a while to eat
About twenty bites in, there’s no way I can eat more
So I ask you to eat what’s leftover
I guess I should have given you the bigger half to begin with
But I guess that’s just how we work
Where you’ll always take the smaller portion
But end up eating most of the food
Because I’ll always take the bigger portion
And leave most of it untouched
You eat my leftovers in two bites
And the coffee arrives
I almost knock over your espresso
While reaching for the complimentary cookie
I eat my cookie
And then I eat half of yours too
And by this time I’m pretty full
But I see a sign for a free cookie
And I want it
You don’t really care for it but you laugh
Because you haven’t seen me want anything as bad
As the cookie (it's free!)
And so you get me the free cookie
And I’m too full to eat it
So I put it in my bag
Very proudly; it’s my success for the day
I finish my Americano faster than you finish your single shot espresso
So you give me a sip of yours
But you drop a few drops on me
And now my pants look like they have blood stains
And I smell of espresso
And you’re trying to clean it with a tissue
But the waiter thinks we’re doing something naughty
So I tell you to stop
And even if we were doing something naughty
Who’s the waiter to say anything anyways
Anyways
So we finish out coffee and we call for an uber
And my pants are stained
And I’m carrying my cookie
And I don’t think I’ve ever been happier
While we wait for the uber
You steal my glasses
And you try them on
They look funny on you
I like them on you
I think I like you
And you can’t see anything
And I can’t see anything either
Except for your outline
That’s enough for me
So the uber comes
And he calls us
And we’re leaving
At the counter you pay
And I see a Nutella cookie in the window
I want it
But you just paid for breakfast
So I’ll keep quiet
We sit in the car
And I put on pomegranate lipbalm
And I give you some too
Your lips look nice and soft now
And I think today has been a really great day
And I think you fit me well
Because you love toast and I leave toast
And it works out
(except for that baked tomato no one ate)
But look the point is
Is that we work
Well.
And we squish in the back of an uber
And guess what?
The seat was made for two.
We ordered a mushroom-cheese omelet
It was a good day
Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 10:35 AM UTC
That cute dimple on the right side of his face only revealed itself when he flashed a wide satisfied grin.
Just like that, I melted.
-My heart is made of Nutella & Chocolate
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 12:29 AM UTC
we fight over the smallest thing;
like how I love Ovomaltine
and he thinks Nutella is better
I treat him like a disappointment
while he acts like I don't matter
I am always so close to tears
and he's so close to the edge
what's odd is this;
every morning, I still wake up
with his arms wrapping me
and whenever he knows I move,
he tightening up his hug
as if he won't let me walk away
so I stay
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 12:47 AM UTC
A Parody
Brigitte my love
Our Country suffers of many debts
The people are restless
Whatever shall we do love?
Ah Macron, we must think past the cookies
The solutions are complex, answers evasive
Let me speak with Marie Antoinette, she shall know!
Queen of Navarre, By god we shall be saved!
Marie, Marie Antoinette our people are restless
Our republic is in debt. these are crazy times!
Whatever shall we do?
I am fed up, allons-y
Ah fear not, if they have not bread!
Let them eat Nutella!
Lower the prices
Nutella for the masses!!!
Marie, are you sure? very very sure of such things?
Oui oui, on with it, my father was emperor of Rome
Nutella will calm the masses
Come here Nemo. taste, see even Nemo is tres happy now!
And so France lowered the prices of Nutella
Thus began the nouveau French Revolution
Riots in the streets, brawling in the magasins
The uprising has began, we want our Nutella for free
The masses rose
Nutella for all, Nutella for sans prix
We are all somewhat fou for Nutella you see!
And so the masses fought each other for Nutella's liberty
Nutella one and Nut Ella all!
I swear to your Brigette
We should have given them Macarons!!!
People remain civilized with cafe and cookies! n'est pas?
Emmanuel my love, fret not
The revolution shall be quelled
Qh I have the perfect person for this
He shall restore order to our dear republic
Prey tell Brigette? Who could do such a thing now
Riots everywhere, the masses fight each other daily?
The streets are not safe
There is a shortages of Nutella now, we are doomed cheri
Non non mon amour, I shall call Alizee
She shall sing us out of the terrible mess
She is the mistress of Doug McMillion
This man can save us all!!
Brigitte, who is this man you call Doug?
Why Emmanuel he is the president of Walmart
He has squashed many Black Fridays rebellions
He shall save us all!!!!!!
From these unruly unsavory Nutella shoppers!!!!!
Vive la France!
Vive Alizee
Mange ton macaroon mon cheri
C'est ton droit et ta liberté
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 1:18 AM UTC
I know she'll never believe me
But when she laughs with nutella on her face
She looks absolutely gorgeous
Because she's happy down to her bones
And it's moments like those
I realize how much I love her
And how lucky I am to have her in my life
Because she's gorgeous and amazing and brave
She's everything i could've ever asked for
And when she laughs
I feel the sound get saved into my soul
And when she smiles like that
I know
I will always and forever
Love the girl with nutella on her face
Mar 6, 2017
Mar 6, 2017 at 12:44 PM UTC
it's soaring through flaming green hills
your heart races with the curiosity of discovery
it's dancing on a secluded mountaintop
with the drunken energy of a motorino zipping.
it's the endless time spent laughing
lips tingling with wine and philosophy
furiously awaiting l'autobus
and saying basta to the pasta.
the hazelnut aroma of hot cappuccini,
and suddenly you have the bravery
to get lost alle tre in Trestevere.
it's watching sunrays part mountains and Corinthian columns
and sparkling on salty waters
and you inch toward the edges of cliffs
just to catch a glimpse.
it's the comfort of friends and Nutella
when Ryanair lands and Rome becomes Home
and life, and death, and carbs follow you.
it's the homeless and the hungry
sleeping in the strong arms of St. Peter
and disappointment and shame
consumes you.
it's sobbing when you are alone,
foreign, and strange
and sobbing when it's time to say
arrivederci
it's when you fall, your stupid heel caught between cobblestones
that you realize you're in love.
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 12:53 PM UTC
My kitchen is yellow
Ugly and faded
My kitchen is where
Late at night
I traded
Crumbs with a monster
A tiny little thing
That grows and grows
With growls and grumblings
She does not like the yellow
And neither say do I
Sometimes the hideous color
Makes her want to cry
So I placate her with cookies
Brownies and more
But my little monster
Throws tantrums on the floor
No amount of Nutella
Can get her off her knees
For my little monster
Has a minds disease
And I’m too busy fighting
That I can not see
The empty cartons of ice cream
Will bring her no true ease
Jul 22, 2021
Jul 22, 2021 at 5:20 PM UTC
A glance
The little black figures
words
lines
of endless text
pass me by
my eyes
seeing nothing
but little
black
lines
shapes
dots
stripes
crosses
...
A stick
slathered in
nutella
chocolate, and hazelnut
the sweet
makes
me
numb
The crunch makes me
succumb
...
The sounds
pelting me
commands
inquiries,
things to do
things to hear
So
Much
Noise
Information
being blown away
in the wind
past my
unresponsive
ears
A lone
buzz takes
over
...
The sprite
gluggs down
my
esophagus
Burns
my lungs
A crinkle
from the now,
empty
bottle
...
The led
****** my fingers the
keys click clikety click as I
tap tapety tap
poke
****
the computer keys the
piano keys
ting
tingety ting
as I push
press
Smooth
that little piece of dirt I
rub rub Rub RUB
scratch SCRATCH
...
The frozen
unbelievable painfully
sweet sweetness
numbs my
tongue
cream
cold as
ice freezes
my brain
My brain
My brai
My bra
My br-
My b-
B-
b-
B-
bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb
...
...
...
Enveloped
in a blanket of
sweetness
my tongue is all I know
as I
Binge
To
Ecstasy
Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 10:58 PM UTC
Count every calorie
1,2…Too many
Try each quick trick,
power shake,
weight loss,
fat *******
muscle building,
fiberlicious,
piece of ******** I can get my hands on
Take the stairs, not the elevator
Walk to work, then walk home
Jog in place,
Do 10 push-ups,
Jumping jacks,
Tuck jumps,
Sit-ups,
Scissor kicks,
You name it I’ve done it
I’ve stuck to my diet for so long
My menu has consisted of a million and one ways to say bland
I have looked into low-fat,
No fat,
Fat free,
Sugar free,
Sodium free,
‘Feel free, to leave me on the shelf because I taste like dog ****
versions of every name brand in the produce section
and now…now I would **** for some cheese fries,
Or a giant cake just for me,
An entire package of Oreos dipped in Nutella,
Or simply a candy bar
Dieting takes will power,
But vending machines take mere pocket change.
Feb 6, 2013
Feb 6, 2013 at 1:08 PM UTC
You and I
went through
phases
nutella and
new music and
Children's television and
taco bell and
movie going and
the lottery
We never won
a **** thing
Then there was
sleeping in and
not sleeping at all and
neuro something-or-other and
youtube
My head on your lap
Your hands on my head
Your eyes on the screen
Lastly
there was
5 guys
but
how many did it take
to sever me
from you?
just
one
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 3:00 AM UTC
*I crave your sweetness
Lavished on toast,
on fruits:
Nutella.*
Jul 21, 2016
Jul 21, 2016 at 1:10 AM UTC