"refrigerate" poems
Ingredients for 6-8 people
• 4 egg whites
• 2 egg yolks
• 100 g (1/2 cup) of sugar or 5 tablespoons of fruit sugar (alter to your own preference)
• 500 g (2 1/2 cups) of mascarpone cheese
• 4 small coffee cups of espresso coffee
• marsala wine (or brandy or cognac)
• 400 g of savoiardi or lady fingers (sponge cake fingers)
• dark chocolate powder
Preparation
1. Make espresso coffee, sweeten, and add the marsala wine (or cognac) to it. Let it cool a bit.
2. Separate the egg yolks and the whites of two eggs in two bowls.
3. Beat sugar into the egg yolks.
4. Beat the mascarpone into the sweetened yolks.
5. Add two more egg whites to the other two and whisk until they form stiff peaks.
6. Fold gently egg whites into mascarpone mixture.
7. Quickly dip both sides of the ladyfingers in the espresso mixture.
8. Layer soaked ladyfingers and mascarpone in a large bowl or pan (start with fingers, finish with mascarpone).
9. Sprinkle dark chocolate powder on top.
10. Refrigerate for one hour.
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 11:23 AM UTC
poetic poultice.
Take this salve;
this balm and unction,
apply around valve
n up yer junction,
refrigerate;
and best kept cool,
to thicken up
loose water stool,
please don't fret
n do not fear,
'tis but poetic,
diarrhea..
Nov 8, 2011
Nov 8, 2011 at 1:41 AM UTC
Turn the lights out
Touch me in the dark
kiss me at midnight
and taste the whiskey on my tongue
pour wine all over my body
and taste it with your warm soft lips
kiss me gently in my neck
as your fingers are dancing under my clothes
making me crave you more and more
dont say anything
your lips on mine say much more
no ocean can extenguish our burning hearts
no freezer can refrigerate this hot desire
I don't know life nor death
day nor night, right nor wrong
I only know that I want you so bad right now
everything else is irrelevant and forgotten
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 10:05 PM UTC
This happy mind
Set high up in the sky
An elevation conquered through such smiles
These well-embarked nights
Too sweet like sugared lime
We're gallivanting urban streets for miles
This life is gold
Wrapped memories in foil
To save, refrigerate, and sit and wonder
Street light, lightning poles
Electrified shoe soles
Northbound on a bridge, we stand and ponder
This city street
The trees have lost their leaves
But warm food paired with milkshakes stifles chills
Each touch ignites the breeze
Bad jokes, good laughs with ease
Casting spells unknown through each unopened thrill
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 12:49 PM UTC
(20 minute poetry)
When it's done and you're on a run to the cryogenic laboratory
I hope you think of me as I think of all humanity.
Once wasted twice
dry, ice us
and we'll live fiercer than forever could ever be.
I'll return only when the house of clowns burns down and I'll dance in the smoke, but it's mirrors I see in the eyes, are we ever really
free?
If death untied is true
where and when and what would be the point to hide in the nib of a pen? only flowing when the lights are low and the type in the margins is green inked to go?
I know no more than the kiss that brings me alive.
I can see the Eastern night even when the light is low and I didn't know how sweet it looked and all they want is to
refrigerate you.
I think if this is the farewell kiss I'll miss it all.
Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 7:56 PM UTC
You opened my jar.
Stuck, so you ran it under warm water,
banged it on the counter, and leaned
your full body over it and strained to
free it from its lid.
You scooped me out.
I was luke warm and spicy salsa.
Cold, watery hominy.
Salty greens.
Fermented sugar cabbage.
Smelly and raw.
You ate a little of me every day,
tried to make the contents last.
The jar had been in your cabinet for a long time.
You almost donated me,
but you forgot.
You stored me in your refrigerator,
I got cold, stagnant.
I loved when you poured out my contents
and warmed them up on the stove
and ate me in front of the window on a mild day.
I loved when you seasoned me and made me new.
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 6:13 PM UTC
i. WATER: straightforward enough just make sure she can breathe still; not just the kind in her throat, she needs the ocean, a spirit somehow both constant and ever-changing; you may try to hand her the umbrella but it'll never work, she'd rather drink the sky and wear it in her hair than anything else
ii. FOOD: keep it on hand; lemonade, strawberries, coffee and donuts, pasta; don't get it confused with thought, don't refrigerate a monet, don't put haring in the cabinet; she'll drag you to the museums but i swear it'll be worth it when you see her full and bright and alive against those canvases
iii. WARMTH: wrap her up in your arms every second you see her; wear your favorite cologne and i guarantee she will notice every time; she rises for the sun but lives for the stars, don't forget about the way she turns her face to the sky every time she goes outside; her glow is strong but every so often she'll need a little bit of yours to stay alive
Dec 26, 2015
Dec 26, 2015 at 11:53 AM UTC
I've been
getting
tired
since
1954
when my father was
born
since when
we would
begin
beginning
to eventually
end
and anyways
I don't have insomnia
but I do watch
wildly
with my lower spine
and whine
and refrigerate
my mind
and he there,
that one
looks into
my eyes
as if
I've been
kicking him
since he was
a child
and
keeps it
up
Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 4:04 PM UTC