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judy smith Jul 2015
Summer diet: Weight loss summer food

The weather may change but our diet remains constant. Whatever the weather, summer, winter or the monsoon we want our pav bhaji or Schezwan chicken or the spicy kebabs and the masala chai.

But realization never strikes us that change in weather could mean a change in diet as well. For those on a weight loss diet the options are slim, you need food that is delicious, low in calories, rich in vitamins and minerals as well as fibers. Let's peak into your refrigerator and cook up the best summer weight loss meals.

Max on vegetables: Vegetables are the best bet when the sun is unforgiving. Red meat is not advisable for summer as it increases your body's internal energy requirement for digestion - thus, tiring you out if you aren't in great health to begin with. Luckily Indian food is known for delicious vegetarian food, which means that you won't need to make too much of a compromise when shifting to a palette that mostly involves leafy vegetables.

Go easy on the nuts: Dried nuts are rich in calories and to avoid over indulging yourself with nuts have them in small proportion and stock away the rest. Another reason to avoid nuts in summer is that they produce heat in your body, which could result in heat boils. Go easy when snacking on these energy nibbles.

Learn about salads: They are no longer just sliced cucumbers, tomatoes and beetroot. Salads have evolved; restaurants have a wide selection of different salads. Indians are more open to feasting on salads as a meal. It takes less time to prepare and you can toss in anything you want even chicken and fish along with the greens. Add citrus fruits, chilled cucumber and fresh lettuce and you've got the perfect summer meal.

Try the chilled soups: Gazpacho is the first dish that comes to mind when you hear the words - chilled soups. But you can try out soups made of tomatoes, green peas and cucumbers; they are both cooling and refreshing. If you like beetroot, you should try chilled beetroot soup too. Healthy and refreshing, these chilled soups are the perfect starters on a hot and balmy summer night.

Enjoy fruits as desserts: Fruits cool the body, rejuvenate your cells, keep you hydrated, and taste like heaven on a hot summer day. Dice some fruits in a bowl, sprinkle some chat or cinnamon powder and you have an awesome dessert. Watermelon is the most sought after fruit when the sun is relentless.

Meet your summer crush - low fat yogurt: Dairy products are always a healthy option, provided they are low fat. Good for digestion and rich in calcium, you can have yogurt any way you like - whipped into lassi, sweeten with sugar or mixed with fruits. Yogurt is cheap and doesn't need a fancy accompaniment, but you do need a refrigerator to preserve the healthy bacteria.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-melbourne | www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-adelaide
2010 one last remark about Mom she’s never had faith or trust in me she always doubts redirects me when i was little she continuously blamed me accusing me of being sick needing a psychiatrist at age 20 my parents committed me for disciplinary reasons to the Institute of Living a psychiatric hospital in Hartford Connecticut in a locked ward for 4 months Mom and Dad discouraged my aspirations to succeed as a painter/writer arguing the impracticality of my decision they thumbs downed Bayli even today she undermines my efforts to love protect her she scolds me for asking permission from my cousin Chris to allow his son Maynard to fly down here and help me pack then drive up to Chicago so i might get to know Maynard on a road trip she instructs hire professional packers for a $100. they’ll be glad to help you pack Mom has always stood in the way of my choices decisions



1975 Chicago in his parent’s kitchen Mom offers the cannolis are fresh from Kanella’s Bakery or try the chocolate fudge cake it’s absolutely delicious Odysseus replies are you trying to fatten me up or **** me with sweets Mom flirtatiously teases i’ve always been about your ruination Odys



2001 Tucson Mom comes for visit at Thanksgiving in her early 80s walking proud yet painfully on displaced hips she is an inspiration to Odysseus her eyes are clouded with cataracts yet she sees life as an eternal optimist since 1920 the world has changed so drastically yet Mom has learned to accept many things she previously did not tolerate she lives prudently on modest fixed income her fingers are arthritically deformed but she was once a great beauty many men desired her Odysseus asks if it was difficult for Mom to lose the power of her physical desirability he noticed her good looks waning in her 50s she answers she sensed her  attraction going in her 70s she still possesses regal qualities and is quite socially charming she chatters a flurry of familiar names events that keep her busy she travels around by herself Mom’s spirit endures but in reality she drifts further away with each passing season she is delicate and has difficulty remembering she echoes a distant past in the early evening of Thanksgiving Day they sit at table of elegant yet rather staid dining room of Mom’s choosing at Arizona Inn she says it reminds her of the way things used to be she wears tasteful black linen slacks black pumps thin silk knitted black turtleneck with string of pearls gold earrings her blonde hair coiffured in same fluffy sprayed style it has been for 50 years in his heart he knows a part of her wishes her son was more like Tom Steinberg who was a senior when Odysseus was a freshman at River Woods Academy The Steinbergs and Mom are still friendly Tom is a successful investment banker with a wife and child living in Winnetka Mom nervously touches the pearl strand around her neck she says you know Mort Rock’s wife Phyllis died i was such a good friend to her at her funeral they read how she said i was her best friend she left me 10 lousy thousand dollars in her will she’s worth millions it’s eating me up inside i needed that money desperately i can’t stop thinking about it 10 lousy thousand dollars went immediately to pay off loans i’m going to sell my jewelry i don’t know what i can get in the spring i’ll put the apartment up for sale or try to get a reverse mortgage from the bank i never told you kids before i’m not in good shape Odysseus comments i feel terrible i wish so much i could help maybe Phyllis Rock suspected you and her husband maybe all those years you were her best friend she read it as guilt and obligation Mom you need to be more truthful Mom cuts in i never had *** with Mort Rock that man drove me crazy he was nuts for me Mom orders the traditional turkey dinner Odysseus orders the Macadamia nut encrusted Hawaiian fish the waiter brings price fixed appetizers little circles of toasted bread with lightly browned melted cheese tiny triangular cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches roasted watercress nuts wrapped in bacon and little hot dogs pierced with fluffy ended toothpicks Mom begins to gobble as she remarks to Odysseus  why do you want to wear your hair like that? you look like you escaped from the camps Odysseus asks what camps are you referring to Mom? she replies the Concentration Camps! you’re a good-looking man and you still have a full head of hair why do you want to shave it off i don’t understand i think you should move back to Chicago Tucson has done nothing to offer look at you you’re all alone you don’t have any friends come home and be your old self again he answers my old self you don’t get it do you Mom do you remember my commodity trading debacle or my 40th birthday or you and aunt Rita’s ceaseless corrections Mom smugly retorts what do you mean your 40th birthday don’t you get smart with me you should be ashamed of yourself why must you keep bringing up the past you need to let go of the past you go into such details details i don’t remember what does it matter now it’s history we only wanted what we thought was best for you you never listened you were only interested in yourself plenty of other kids get beaten and come through just fine you don’t know what it’s like to be a parent it tears me up inside you talk like you had nothing to do with it i can’t take this abuse from you anymore her misshapen fingers hands begin trembling as her voice emotes you think i don’t realize we made mistakes with you you think we were such monsters i wasn’t a good mother i was a lousy ***** is that what you think answer me what are you a bump on a log Odysseus sits stiff in chair his voice shrinks he just sits there his legs shake under table Mom says your father was quick-tempered we were under so much financial pressure maybe we did send you away too soon if i had to do it again i’d do it differently what does it matter now it’s 50 years ago forget the past what do you want from me what can i do he listens silently wondering if Mom seeks some kind of redemption can her conceit permit it he knows he is ******* her he does not mean to be uncomfortable with his muteness Mom continues you were a difficult child remember all the trouble you caused look at you you’re still a difficult man he questions Mom can you hear yourself you think i’m difficult she answers you think we were such terrible parents you grew up in a house of violence his thumb and forefinger nervously touch his chin as he replies no you were good parents i was a problem child different from you you afforded me a beautiful home and brilliant education i wanted to investigate life and learn and grow you didn’t know what to do with a child like that as much as she tries Mom never has been a comfort for Odysseus or he for her he inadvertently stirs her to worry or snap and she in turn unthinkingly disturbs him nevertheless they love each other the waiter brings out salads Mom ordered iceberg lettuce with thousand island dressing Odysseus chose the spinach salad he takes several bites Mom remarks use your salad fork not your dinner fork you know better than that suddenly it occurs to him Mom is more fragile than he he thinks to himself silently Mom i realize your life is closing in on you your mind drifts and you need to fake and cover-up more than ever do you want me to come home and take care of you i will take care of you then he remembers how miserable they were together during his throat cancer recovery in her 3 bedroom Lake Shore Drive condominium immersed in contemplation he pushes the fork through spinach leafs Mom says sit up in the chair and put a smile on your face she self-consciously peeks around the room having lost his appetite Odysseus looks down at napkin on his lap glances at half-eaten salad bowl he gazes up at Mom the waiter arrives making a pained smile he clears the salads then serves the entrees after the waiter departs Mom speaks Odys look at me when i’m talking to you i think about a lot of things i should have done after the fact sometimes even years later Max and i made a lot of incorrect choices when it came to you he cuts in Mom you don’t have to say anymore i love you always have loved you and know you love me too Mom says you know how much i appreciate your paintings you’ve made my life richer i‘ve always been supportive of you in fact i’m your biggest fan right Odys right? thank you Mom i’m grateful Mom says i’ve spoken with psychiatrists and they all tell me the same answer tell your son to forget it why must you dwell in the past what did we do so dreadfully wrong i don’t understand you’re a hard case i wish i could get through to you i hope you can find it in your heart to forgive us you’ll sleep better he questions you know about my insomnia restless sleep nightmares Mom says i can imagine Odysseus’s eyes begin to water Mom i love you i wouldn’t be who i am without you Mom says don’t get so emotional you sound weak take it from me you must be strong in life learn discipline and willpower i love you too son Odysseus wonders if maybe he agitates Mom because he is a constant liability lacking fiscal self-reliance deep down Mom is a giggling gossiping playful girl spoiled by her father she never wanted to grow up and be burdened with the tasks of parenthood what woman of rare beauty and charm would want to give up her privilege and freedom for some kid especially a *******-up kid maybe deep down Mom resents Odysseus he stares down at the Macadamia nut encrusted Hawaiian fish and silently prays he will be released from his life all his stupid sins regrets self-pity self-hatred his vain inconsequential existence



i move organize empty shelves cabinets drawers closets edit wrap tape pack wonder if moving back to Chicago is one more mistake heaped on top of a 1000 mistakes a 1,000,000 mistakes is going home to help Mom my biggest mistake ever i simply know i must try to protect my Mom
judy smith Jun 2015
To beat the blues, declutter the mind and trim that waistline... there are far more reasons to stay hydrated than to quench the thirst. Here's how to do it...

Hydration is central to the most basic physiological functions of the body such as regulating BP and body temperature, blood circulation and digestion. But having enough water is one thing and keeping the body well hydrated another. Hydration comes not just from sipping water but from a diet high on water. One needs to have a variety of fruits and vegetables that have a naturally high water content to replenish the electrolytes in scorching summer.

EAT YOUR WATER

"The primary way of hydration is drinking plenty of clean water ******, but about 20 per cent of our intake comes from foods, especially fruits, vegetables, drinks and broths. Hydrating food not only corrects the water balance but also replaces essential salts and minerals," adds Manjari Chandra, therapeutic nutritionist. Aqua foods provide volume and weight but not calories. Grapefruit, for example, is about 90 per cent water and half a grapefruit has just 37 calories. High water greens and fruits contain essential vitamins and minerals, bioflavonoids (compounds believed to prevent heart disease) and antioxidants that slow down the aging process. They are also high in fibre, which keeps you feeling full for longer and helps the digestive system run efficiently. They can provide al most all vitamins and minerals and correct nutrient deficiencies.

WEIGHT WATCHERS

If you thought the list of hydrating foods ends with the usual suspects like cucumbers, watermelons and tomatoes, you are wrong. Some offbeat natural hydrators include leeks, spinach, peppers, carrots and celery. In fact, celery comprises mostly water... qualifying as a great snacking option. It can also curb sweet tooth cravings, which will help you stay slim and keep away from acidic sweets. "Eggplants are a fabulous weight loss kitchen staple. This versatile ingredient has low calories and is rich in fibre that boosts satiety. Grape fruit has been hailed as a weightloss superfood globally for its cardio protective, antioxidant and appetite-sup pressing qualities. This high fibre, juicy fruit has the ability to lower blood sugar levels and control a voracious appetite," says Jia Singh, travel, food and wellness writer.

MOOD AND MIND

People usually don't consider water as a mood enhancer. However, studies have proved otherwise. Even mild dehydration can alter a person's mood, energy levels, and ability to think clearly, according to two studies by the University of Connecticut's Human Performance Laboratory. Mild dehydration is defined as an approximately 1.5 per cent loss in normal water volume in the body. It is important to stay properly hydrated at all times, not just during exercise, extreme heat, or exertion. This is because water gives the brain the electrical energy for all t, its functions, including r thought and memory processes. When your brain is functioning on a full reserve of water, you will be able to think faster, be more focused, and experience clarity and creativity.

MUSCLE POWER

We all know the importance of exercising, getting enough protein, calories and rest in order to build muscles.But water consumption is as important for muscle wellness and lubrication of joints. Water composes 75 per cent of our muscle tissue! So, if your body's water content drops by as little as 2 per cent, you will feel fatigued. If it drops by 10 per cent, you may experience health problems, such as arthritis and back pain. When you're well hydrated, water provides nutrients to the muscles and removes waste so that you perform better.

TOP SUMMER HYDRATORS

Strawberries: They rank highest in water content in comparison to all other berries. Berries are powerhouses of antioxidants that are cardio protective, good for your eyes, skin and nails and even help prevent inflammation and chronic illnesses.

Carrots: They are almost 90 per cent water, are rich sources of vitamin A and C and have tons of betacarotene that keep cancer at bay.

Zucchini: Zucchini is a popular summer squash made of 95% water. It is a good source of dietary fibre, vitamin A, C and K, folate, magnesium. It is best to use it fresh and raw in salads because cooking leads to loss of water.

Bell Peppers: Sweet bell peppers are amongst the veg gies with the highest water content. They are also a great source of vitamin C.

Iceberg lettuce: Health experts often rec ommend substituting it with darker greens like spinach or romaine lettuce for higher amounts of fibre and nutrients such as folate and vitamin K. It's a different story, however, when it comes to water content. Crispy ice berg has the highest amount of water amongst the lettuce family.

Spinach: It may not be as hydrating as iceberg lettuce, but spinach is usually a bet ter bet overall. The leafy vegetable is rich in lutein, potassium, fibre, and brain-boosting folate.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/bridesmaid-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses
Karijinbba Jul 2018
I STILL EXIST- I STILL EXIST
My pen writes
I still Exist

and an empty feeling engulfs me
I am painting a purple tree
I tell my family counselor
That the paint reminds me
Of arsenic Greek cheese dust
That a human predator
two faced fiancee
placed on my green salad in 1976
He said he would teach me how Greeks killed with love at sea
Then kindly offered
To bring
breakfast and lunch
for me in bed
(Ladden with poison)
While I ate it he danced Zorba the Greek!
His jealous raicist medeas mistresses knew his past crimes
I didn't I was very naive
his superstitious ignorant parents twelve people  asked him to Get rid of me baby and all

Overdosed with pitocin for a cow
giving birth was a torture
then blood thinners
were added to slowly
end my life
A hate crime because I a sub human born in Mexico not Greece
The poisons caused
a chest malformation of my daughter requiring surgery
later in life was mis-diagnosed
as pectus scavatum
but I knew better it was
attempted ******
a chilling secret I was so ashamed to reveal

I did escape my kids and me
we survived  the memory
of my true love's loving ways
In America saved me from certain death there I was 75 lbs
When I escaped Hell
Greece
But salads gave me
Nausea through the years
I could never recall why

Painting gets my mind
Off painful memories
resurficing examining my life understanding me and others

I have many regrets unwittingly
my loving innermost feelings
remained trapped inside
and I lost my true love
in my dead calm silence of pain
Foolish online Ink
One involuntary bad deed
In Veracruz
Two SAD songs

My shrink says I have a beautiful
Soul a relentles spirit
That I managed to do better then
Most despite hellish adversity
A childhood marred with
heartbreak a trail of
Graves tree stumps
Coffin and treassures
Spirit breath of life and death
  
My hybrid race was secret
Poverty lack of Rhogam
My father the Apocalyto
Hero killed by MEX Feds
Who stole my Land
We are indigenous
Purhepecha tribe
The enemy of the Aztecs
So me my father's little queen of the forest his STAR could
Fly high and zoar
He was the love of my life
My dad David

A few days of effexor RX can bring about amnesia to block old kidnapping memories of turture resurficing unsolicited
Effexor to stop tears
regulating serotonin disrupted
After a car accident with traumatic head injury concoussion brain swelling so much that falling asleep for three months was impossible

MD prescribed just a trial
few warp eight mind bending Effexsors serotonin reuptakers
For only fifteen days
Half of thirty seven mg
Tears stopped immediatly a calmnesss
self assured old me demeanor
re-emerged I remember the arsenic and blood thiner injections the faces of sadistic jealous women but it didn't hurt

But soon my heart began to speed up so fast I could hear it beating in my ears at lowest dose

so the higher dose was not allowed.
Side effects if used longer than six months could make the
face to twich! who needs that!

So therapy ended slowly redusing small to smallest dosages for fifteen days
treatment ended
Don't like messing with my brain

Today I enjoy simple pleasures
echos born like me in
In the atlantic mystery

family time my lifetime best
best lover best Mother
nest friend to me myself
Remembering those few
Souls
Who deared greatly
their wisdom and foresigh to bet
On my future my light myself!
my father's little
Queen of the forest tribute to
My Once Upon A Time
True love his love songs
His poems quickening me
Awaking me
He was the love
Of my life my true love JPC/RC

He showed me he loved me
But he never could "tell me"
He loved me all my fault
Thinking back not ever
any other man told me
he loved me one or two boys wanted something from me freely given or taken by force from me
I didn't want them at all
No person growing up
Ever
Told me they loved me and most showed me my life didn't matter
many of my civil rights were violated throughout my life by thugs hainas had more charm
Only my father David San chez
and later my adoptive Mother mommy dearest told me once she loved me showed me she cared.
My children tell me and show me
They love me
Sometimes they hate me too
sadly they are under the spell of deadly sterile drug user enemies who assassinate my character lie and slander me to my grown daughters and I have now become estranged until they figure all out on their own so they learn to fight woolves in sheeps clothing and understand treason
and ungratefulness towards their own mother
There was only one man I loved
The MOST on this whole wide world
His ink scripted love remained the good intermigled with evil
Forever a part of me
My Lord Shiva my first teacher
My sage my guru
My Lancelott
Me  first love my last love
my tree of life he was
The only man I ever loved
and lost
Looking back
I thank G** King Jesus
King Arthur
And few other men who
Traveled in and out my door
Only one had my lock's key
I am glad you came along
I sing this last song
In memory of all the good
The bad and very bad
The few nefarious vipers I kissed
I forgive you all forgive you me for NOT
Understanding you
For loving those fellowmen
Who didn't know how to love me back
I wave my last
Good bye
I
Will
In your light and my own
Pray for you and me

As for the love of my life
"You are like a prayer
In church to God"
"I remembet you,
as someone something
VERY DEAR and precious"
You were the Best
You touched my STAR
And my starry skies sparkle
With your light remember me
in the same light my love
Look me up with your telescope
When you watch the stars
From your sun roof
In your bedroom

Find my Aries Constelation
For there is
My home
Without
You
I've taken with me a piece
Of Veracruz
A Mothers Day surprise
at the Hilton
raised in your arms on a warm June at a  bar
Where i felt like a bride
your bride

I almost asked you then and there to throw a big party
for you and me
But the monastery's dead silence
Growing up isolated
Silenced the spontaniety
Of thought you required of me
yet again!You regressed me you
tried in so many ways for me to
tell you  "I love you I am sorry
I'll marry you!"
All over again
I adored you remember this
Always.
Look me up with your telescope I AM
in The Aries Constelation I am Aprils daisy Aries diamond a
Yelow Self Existing Star says the Tzolkin Star Seed
Galactic seed always flowering....Enter me
Yours Always.
~~~~~~~
Revised 11-29th-2018
Excerpt from my memoir
auto biography
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Josh Vork Mar 2019
Why would it be bad
To have cake and also eat it?
Why is that a metaphor of greed?
What else should I do with cake?
It could be a piece of art
Something beautiful to behold
But it’s purpose is to be eaten
It’s cake

Yes, I would like my cake
And to eat it as well
I want to enjoy
The things I enjoy
Not simply to hold them in my hands
Stare at them upon a platter
Wonder what they taste like
I want to eat the cake
It was made for someone to eat
Why not me?

Too much cake
Will make me fat
The sugar and flour
Conspire together to build a gut
It is not healthy to eat cake daily
I cannot keep cake in the house
The temptation is too great
But everything in moderation
A piece of cake here and there
To be had and to be eaten
Is a nice treat

The daily grind of salads and chicken
Nuts and fish
Avocado and eggs and water
Will keep me healthy
Grounded
So when I feel like cake
I can have it

Order cake for dessert
Or to celebrate a birthday
An accomplishment
Or anniversary
No one bats an eye
But order cake for breakfast?
Might just incite a riot

There is a time and place for cake
Society has deemed it so
We are not the rulers of our own lives
(Though we could be)
Instead our culture dictates
The rules of life
Steak for breakfast or for dinner
But not lunch
Bread goes with every meal
Eggs and bacon are for the morning
But at night is a nice treat - on occasion
Beer after five
But it’s five o’clock somewhere

And somewhere
Someone is ready for dessert
So **** it
Let’s eat this cake
That I have procured
You and me, together
Let’s have our cake
And eat it too
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
F- For being faithful like a forbidden fruit truthful
R- Ruler of fruit so passionately about his love bite
U- Understatement how she layered her
salad love ingredients
Google it
Utmost website take a bite
I- Included in everything We know it the poets
Ring coming like diamond my fruit of the crop
T- Timing, Fruit for thought rhyming tremendous
but tedious fruit-salad love

I- Truly   

S- Strawberries lips of cherries falling from the tree.
Feeling free Robin bob bobbin along loves strawberry pie
A- For such ambiance, Miss Ambrosia
such allure "Pink lady" apple smiles so
animated graphic artist so cool and waves shore
L- For Living eating in good health breathing
the fresh air Earth Baby Bella green lettuce.
Lacy Length of her wedding bodice spiritual rice
he promised her hand in fruit bountiful marriage
A- For a party of love fruit masquerade party
Connoisseur of fruit smarty oranges
vibrant animation fruit forever apples,
I tune's of apples
D- Divine dressed up with layers
of fruit salad
Devilish eggs toppings designs of
dandelions daisies, fusion
with fruit crazies

D-  Digging exploring forbidden fruit
Cranking up the Cranberries
I am dreaming the Blueberries
No Sir, not your Monday blues
Dow Jones way up I Apple phones?
R- Rev it up Robin Recharge, rambling
lucky reds fruits
Italian the lovers of red wine and a salad
avocado smashing up her Money green
Eldorado entering her fruit palace

                      She rules

E- Energy vitamin E for exceptional inviting
fruit salad with everything piling
Elderberry Evergreens Huckleberry
S- Symmetry art salad Palm of hearts
Fruit season
love storm style sophisticated a poem with
the style you're sure to smile
S- Autumn leaves falling on the
sleeves crabapples
Silver smooth skin Kiwifruit sour cherry on the
          " SILKY"
Dogwood in the Sierra Juniper
E- Enlightening some enchanting evening
how his love fruit fell from the tree
His fruit for the soul so enthusiastic you loved
to entertain this is love fusion nothing simple
I am not one to complain

D- Dressed to the fruit nines perfect 10 salad
Mad Alice in Wonderland hair so much hair
obsessions love of fruit blueberries and
she's a bit sour cream
with daisies and dandelion teas all,
please and what else is another
fruit of a pain
To remain in silence but that burst of flavor
is like science fusion of soulful rain

F- food for thought furry but fireplace hot
love frenzy comfort foods A la carte frosting
"Buttercream" food pleasant dream
The freshly brewed coffee I never heard of
fruit your in luck
Blueberry coffee homemade Moms
I  girl scout you brownies and
Saltwater sea fruity buns of a breeze

U- Unique how you utilize passion-fruit
prize music
fruity Pop blend fires out up-tempo
your feeling unbaked
Not the right ingredients of love fruit cake

S- Serendipity New York City the
fruit never sleeps fruit stands love for
keeps or Dorothy surrender spices
of Sage Superfood salads

I- Yes we have bananas wearing paisley
bandanas fruit is ripe to improve a love
how it's written
Inkwell an index of fruit swell

O- Out worked outlived on time for only
fruit about the abundance of love
So soothing the fruit tunes of his music
Overjoyed Silk Organza

N- Gift of fruit not like any other day
Neighborly of kindness just dress
Organza Gown of fruit
So naturally spoken love so near Fruit salad he left a notorious love tear.
This is a fruit all numbered to our soul now we must be focused on only fruit I have ways to make you into a salad
The street
filled with tomatoes,
midday,
summer,
light is
halved
like
a
tomato,
its juice
runs
through the streets.
In December,
unabated,
the tomato
invades
the kitchen,
it enters at lunchtime,
takes
its ease
on countertops,
among glasses,
butter dishes,
blue saltcellars.
It sheds
its own light,
benign majesty.
Unfortunately, we must
****** it:
the knife
sinks
into living flesh,
red
viscera
a cool
sun,
profound,
inexhaustible,
populates the salads
of Chile,
happily, it is wed
to the clear onion,
and to celebrate the union
we
pour
oil,
essential
child of the olive,
onto its halved hemispheres,
pepper
adds
its fragrance,
salt, its magnetism;
it is the wedding
of the day,
parsley
hoists
its flag,
potatoes
bubble vigorously,
the aroma
of the roast
knocks
at the door,
it's time!
come on!
and, on
the table, at the midpoint
of summer,
the tomato,
star of earth, recurrent
and fertile
star,
displays
its convolutions,
its canals,
its remarkable amplitude
and abundance,
no pit,
no husk,
no leaves or thorns,
the tomato offers
its gift
of fiery color
and cool completeness.
Matthew Roe Oct 2017
With each
CLICK
Our breath is held
Will he,won't he
Will he, won't he
The suspense is killing me
And....****
Door left open still
Pestered by the plebeian chill

In this gay little coffee shop
Surrounded by the unrecognised talent of Brighton:sketch artist staring at me, writer on his laptop, songwriter etching vigorously with his pencil.
All of which aren't closing the door.

The eyes roll.
Labouring my body up, hammering my legs across the floor, turning the factory handle.

All is ask is for some carrot cake,filtrate water,polo jumpers, avocado salads,tiger bread, slimmer trousers, slipper sock , a toyger.
Click
And then images of Kim Jong un pass through my head.
If I ruled you'd all be dead
Firing squad for an open door,
Loud music on the train'll be no more.
Stop the screaming misbehaving brats
The rabble of Spanish students
All this PC stuff on the news, train seats filled with cans of *****

Suddenly
The artist strolls up
Let's down his cup.
Closes the door swiftly
And slips back in his chair

Oh, so there is a god.

I guess Jesus didn't lie.
Inspired by a time I was sitting in a coffee shop in Brighton, where a ton of customers kept on leaving the door open. It is about becoming aware of ones own social class and how it can create a sense of barriers/isolation, be it from upper or lower. Specifically arising from the 2017 snap election, when the Labour Party demonised the middle and upper classes, demonising a minority the same way they mocked Trump for doing.
onlylovepoetry Mar 2019
first I smell myself.

the deep bass tonality of my musk,
hot, creamy, sweetness unique, of coffee and creamy,
my owned sweat oiled secretions massaged into her skin
emplaced by vigorous parts rubbing and tongue caressing,
under the fading shadows of my glancing, desirous admirings


then I smell herself.

sinking sunset glimpses of last nights parfume parfait,
scattered in random strategic locations architecturally planned,
some flavors come over me like modest waves,
others spelunking found in crevices, cracks and caves,
where humans tread in guileless search of guiltless pleasure

then I smell our sharings.

lemon and thyme, paprika, sea salt and pepper,
a basted rub laid upon animal skin consuming, and consumed,
the vinaigrette balsamic and California yellow raisins, pine nuts,
decorating leaves of red soil spinach and spicy arugula,
word salads, so miraculously ingenious, you swear off eating flesh

then I smell our combinations.

the air conditioned atmosphere that blends us properly chilled,
the olive oils pressed from two colored differing skins,
the mortal and pestle finely grinding our own fresh crumbled dirt,
appearing in places where dirt is wet panko crumbs encrusting us,
our combined liquidity, shaken and stirred, drying in martini tandem

it is 8:17am and this recipe of reciprocity,
at its most pungent peaking,
for soon raining waterfalls of potable city water
and the sophistry of French soap,
the pseudoscience of modern chemical shampoo,
together erasing, scrubbing away this poems aromatherapy tapestry,
your perplexed complexing nostrils will mock you once more,
for ever disbelieving, thinking you could no longer write of
only love poetry that crested high above the trite


Friday, March 29 2019
Aroma olp musk balsamic paprika sea salt ***** martini olp
Creep Dec 2014
She's adorable. With her golden eyes and that cute laugh... If only she loved me back... If she'll come, maybe.
"Holy Rome!! ^^"
"Italy!"
She came!
"Holy Rome, what did you invite to this flower field for?"
"I just wanted to... enjoy the beautiful sight with you... build our alliance..."
"That sounds wonderful!" She picked flowers and sat down next to me.
"I picked you some flowers! Aren't they nice?"
"Yeah... They are pretty. Thank you."
She smiled in excitement and ran around the field. After a while, she got tired and sat down.
"Holy Rome! Look! The sunset!" She pointed at the sky.
The sky was orange and pink and we watched as it quickly set under the horizon.
After the sunset, Italy went home and left me all alone on the flower field, her flowers still in my hands. Another opportunity missed. To tell her I love her. To share my thoughts and feelings for her. For that romantic kiss during the sunset I was planning. Maybe next week.
---
I trudged home quickly and quietly, I just missed my moment to tell HRE how much I really love him... when i skipped through the vibrant field he brought me to, all i could think about was how he brought me here anyhow he was watching me the whole time... i could feel the red blood rushing to my cheeks, even now on the porch of austria as i sweep, just from thinking about HRE...

I sigh and continue to sweep, back and forth, back and forth, scampering all around the house, in a hazy daydream of HRE and me... oh how i love his tender smile... and the way he takes power and shows strength to all the other countries... I'm glad he and i are making an alliance... it gives me another excuse to see him :)

suddenly, i hear a crash.

"hey... italy..." a drunken austria walks into the room and staggers over to me. i look at him, frightened, as he leans down onto me, leaning on my shoulder and his mouth by my ear... he whispers "i love you italy..." he laughs a haggard laugh at my shocked face, his drunken alcoholic stench engulfing my nose with its smell and staggers back out the door where he came from.
I am left standing there with my broom to support me as i stare at the door, still so surprised, my mind whirring with so many thoughts....

---
Today I saw her again.
I volunteered to help her with her chores.
(at first I typed chairs ^^")
"Italy, um... do you need help... today?"
"Not right now Holy Rome, but maybe later."
**** IT. I lost my chance again.
"Are you sure?"
"Now that you mention it, where do you keep the vacuum?"
"Oh, follow me."
I showed her the way to the closet and gave her the vacuum. "Here, this is what you wanted, right?"
"Yes thank you."

I watch her vacuum as I stand to the side out of the way. The way she sings while working, the silent vacuum makes it much easier to hear her. Her occasional smile at me makes me blush every time. The way she stops and pants, it's just... adorable.

"Holy Rome?"
I snapped out of my thoughts. "Huh?"
"Can you help me put this away?"
"Oh, sure."
"Okay! Thank you!"

She surprisingly has manners. If only she could teach some people those manners, because then this life would be a whole lot easier! But, after I helped her put the vacuum away, she turned around and KISSED me! She kissed me, **** it! She told me she was leaving soon to another country.
"But, you can't!" I said. I was so upset I couldn't handle it.
"I'm sorry... I have no choice." She looked as if she was about to cry.
"Hey, Italy. Even if we don't see each other again, just remember that I love you..."
"Okay, I will."
---
I gathered my items into a suitcase and left that day.
I miss him already... i left him with that confused and tearful face of his... oh how sad... i didn't tell him i love you... how could i forget? DX but i gave him the kiss... maybe he'll understand my true feelings for him....

with these jumbled thoughts, i leave for vienna... where i shall stay with austria, he has offered me work in his summerhouse, in exchange i get to stay in his house to sleep... hopefully i can become stronger in a new country, and be like HRE.. i sigh and shake away my dreamy, starry eyes.

---

After the trip, i finally arrive to austria's house. he greets me at the front door, with what i think was an attempt at a **** smile? I'm not sure what he has in mind, after the stun he pulled the other day when he was drunk. i push the thought away and focus on preparing the lavish dinner he has put me up to, with glazed duck confit, salads, soups, everything.

i set up the table and serve all the food in the main dining room table. he sits on one end and on the other end of the long table, theres an empty chair. he simply says, "Go get changed into something presentable, then come down here and join me for dinner."
I look at him in shock, quickly recover, and run up to my room to follow his orders.

---
I went home, seriously depressed and beaten. Why? She's so sweet and nice that it's just too sad to think about. Oh, Italy...

Wait, she said something about going to Austria's... that must mean forever! I was pretty sure that maybe she could come back one day. But I guess not now that I know exactly where she's going... she might not come back. I won't ever see her again. Our "goodbye" wasn't even long enough for a goodbye that meaningful... I wish I could say goodbye at least one more time.

I walk into my home and sit on the couch. I'm too depressed to do anything. I don't want to eat, I don't want to walk, I don't want to breathe but I have to...
---
I rush down to the dining room, with the finest tux that i own and sit down in the chair across from Austria. He looks at me with a new look i havent seen before... im not sure what it is but it seems... familiar.. in the creepiest way. i shyly look up at him as i tuck the tissue into my shirt. he watches me even more closely this time and i look away.

"why dont you have some pasta, italy?"

i greedily take some pasta, pour the heavenly marinara over the perfectly cooked noodles. it is divine, and i slurp up the noodles with a fervor so unmannered, i blush at my rudeness, but im too hungry to stop.

i can still feel his stare.

is it what i think it is...?
lust? 0~0

---
Now you have to eat, Holy Rome!
But I don't want to.
You have to!
I don't want to!!!!!!!
Fine. Just watch the plate of perfectly made pasta you made yourself right in front of you go to waste, then!

I sigh as I catch myself fighting with myself. "Had to be pasta, didn't it? HOLY ROMAN EMPIRE! YOU ARE SUCH A BAKA!" I yell at myself. I suddenly start remembering all the fun we had together. At the Neko Festival, where we dressed as cats and danced together. In the flower field a few days before.

I started humming "Draw A Circle" to cheer myself up. But then it just makes me remember when Italy and I made a duet of our own...

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pk9nQzW30bI )

After I think about how much fun we've had together in the past, I think about her twin brother, Southern Italy. I've never met him before, but from what I hear from Austria, he sounds like a ****. I'm kind of glad that Italy doesn't have some of her childhood with him.

Wait a minute.

If Southern Italy is ruled by Austria and Italy is too...

I have to save her!

I have to force myself to stand.

STAND HRE!

I finally stand up and quickly run out the door. Italy! I have to save her! Please let her be safe! Safe from Southern Italy! PLEASE!
---
I blush and look down at my food. it can't be...

"how r u liking ur food, italy?" he asked with a weird smile and a strange tone to his voice...
i tentatively replied, "pasta is always good. um.... may i be excused? i have some work to get done?" he stared at me with a bit of disappointed, replying quietly, "whatever you need to do, my dear." i quickly left, all the while feeling his strong stare on my back. i shudder and hurry up the stairs and slam the door quickly, locking it as well.

well that was creepy. i wish HRE was here, he'd protect me and id be able to confide in him on what i think austria is up to.

I settle down on to my bed after i brush my teeth and change.
mmmm.... so soft.....

right before i settle off to sleep, i hear a sudden noise, a crash. i rush outside my room and quickly head to austrias room to see if he is ok.

"... mmmm oh italy is so cute.... i just want to kiss him sometimes.... and his cooking... simply marvelous..." muffled noises are heard from the room. i back up hesitantly, unsure what to do as i can see a faint outline of him holding a picture... of me. i back away slowly, completely freaked out. i try to escape his notice as quietly as possible.

too late.

"italy? is that you i hear, my dear?"
I stop, unsure what to do. austria comes out the room, still clutching the picture of me and wraps his arms around me. I stand stiff, incapable of moving.
"you look so **** in those pajamas of yours..." he whispers eerily into my ear. i turn red, and try to get out of his grasp,but he is too strong... he pulls me closer towards him and begins to kiss my neck...i gasp and squirm trying to get him too stop, but he just pushes me against the wall and pins me there. he starts tugging at my shirt and I struggle to break free.

suddenly a loud bang explodes through the hallway.
austria doesnt stop, he starts to take my shirt of, bit by bit, trailing a line of kisses and moans down to my now bare chest.

he whispers... "i see southern italy has arrived to help me..." he looks up, and gives me over to southern italy.
No! why?
I close my eyes shut, too scared too look.

Suddenly, another bang.
"who's this?" austria asks southern italy as southern italy continues to caress my pale, heaving chest, him moaning every so often.

"ITALY!" HRE yells as he comes to the rescue.

I open my eyes to see him charge at Austria.

---
I headbutted him. I kicked him. I scratched him. I did as much as I could to get him off of Italy. I pulled him away finally. Why the hell is Southern Italy here too?
"Southern Italy?!"
"What is it you *******?"
"Why are you here?"
"Because I feel like it!"
(All of this was happening as Austria is passed out on the floor!!!!)
Italy was standing there, her shirt off- WHAT?! I blocked my eyes so I could help put her shirt on without seeing anything.
"Why are you being so cautious?" Southern Italy asked/
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"You don't have to block your eyes..." Italy said. "Austria told me what was happening..."
"What?!"
Southern Italy sighed and said, "You idiotic *******! Italy is a guy!"
I froze. What? How? I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I looked at Italy with he- um... HIS shirt off, it's true... She's a boy.
I started to cry without warning and ran away. I couldn't bare it. I kissed him, I hugged him, I LOVED him! A guy! It's official...
:D hope you enjoy ^^ its a hetalia axis powers fan fiction with Ashley Mae Renton. she's awesome, check her out :D
thanks so much for keeping up with my craziness, Ashley ;) ^^
(italics is ashley, I'm bold)
R W Nov 2013
I forgot a fork
So I'm eating my salad with a spoon.
I didn't feel like sitting in the cafeteria,
Where it's too loud and busy,
So I went home,
Where I'd rather hear a muffled trombone lesson
Than my best friends's stories.

(I'm in one of those tired-sad moods
Where my whole body feels fatigued
And my face feels sad
And I shuffle around;
No motivation.)
So,
I went where I am.

I wish I could spend all day in home
--the band room--
The place I go to hide.
I have to remind myself
It's just a classroom
That I'll probably
Never
Set foot in after I graduate.

But, those are thoughts for
A later date
When I can remember
A fork.
david mungoshi Nov 2016
i carry this enigmatic picture of you
and the smile that ignited my heart
on musical french salad mornings
when love and food were such a mix
as no artist can ever truly capture
When my dark clouds rise

And dirt clods fly and I try

In sheer panic to replace

Rotten fruit with dull wax fruit

And wilted blossoms with

Plastic flowers and she thinks we

Will be on yet another short-lived

But cold cycle of tightrope and

Eggshell walking . . .

She comes home


With bags filled with

Apples green & red

Peppers yellow & green & red

Grapes green & purple

Plums yellow & purplish-red

Strawberries, peaches, tomatoes

Bananas & Greek salads.

 
This usually inspires me to make

For this setting a centrepiece of a

Vase filled with a variety of fresh

Picked wildflowers which brings

Her more joy than two dozen

Of the overrated overachiever rose.


At times this seems like

One of  few bridges back

To a healthy & colourful world.
©2017 Daniel Irwin Tucker

Another dance through my life memoir.
Oh no! the roller coaster of love...not again! This crazy little thing called love...
Kasey Oct 2013
This bakery sounds like couples cooing at each other from opposite ends of the booth
Giggling like no one else sees they're playing footsies under the table
And coffee they've let go cold because no one orders hot, black coffee at five pm in this Arizona heat.
It sounds like cookies taunting the diabetic who really did come in for the salads
And the free wifi, of course.
It sounds disgustingly like the same song I've played on repeat for the past three hours
Contemplating what I want to write about tonight.
But not really contemplating
More like wishing that on the walk to this bakery that's stuck on the corner of a straight road
I'd thrown you to the ground and punched you in the face
For all the wrongs you've done and all the wrongs you're going to do.
But your apathy threw me off, and I kept walking in silence.
Wishing I could have the beach's sands, the mountain's bending rivers,
And that I could run away from here.
This bakery sounds like noise, and sometimes noise is tolerable.
At least noise is better than apathy.
Tawanda Mulalu Feb 2016
Perfect: I used that word once to talk about you
as if you were a doll with limbs made of plastic:
stiff and whimsical and subject to the niggardly
commands of the conscious- yet you, who thinks
as aggressively as any doll-house builder do not
construct your own set-pieces; instead you
pirouette into one carefully constructed day to the
next as you delicately
stride
from bed to shower to wardrobe to mirror to desktop to
window to mirror to mirror to
mirror mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them
all-
and the staid look on your face when the mirror gives no
answer
because it can’t. Checkered skirt, sharp eyelashes, wary
jumper, almost heels. Perfect, you might think
for a moment before your eyes roll gently from self
to mirror
to self
to mirror
to mirror
the self. What was
it that you were looking for if all it does is lead
you back to your skin? Meanwhile, the snow
stutters softly from above as if God had dandruff-
perfect- and it all gently glazes the spongy surface of the world like
flawless coconut icing on some sorry party cake- perfect- and the morning
bell rings impossibly on time like the last
breath you thought was your last- perfect- and somewhere in
America I use words to remind you of the little
unreachables
of perfection that both start and end with your perfectly
snow-pale skin, where somewhere in
America and somewhere on
your thighs perfect ridges of red have formed themselves like
plastic scratches on a Barbie which we both think
are little but we both know
are big
because you are not plastic.

                                               At nighttime our feet
skip on the icy brick pathways that lead from
the dorm-rooms to the library and we shiver
as the snowflakes bob in and out of our bodies
like thoughts
that seem funny but aren’t quite- they melt away
as soon as they stumble upon our skin. From our mouths
cloudy puffs of being flutter out- little butterflies affirming
out listless snowflake-filled minds, sperming out ice-clouds
from our mouths, our mouths, our mouths; birthing friendship.
Breath, visible, is laughter. I trip and swear and momentarily
skate
across a sudden ice-surface as you speak another ice-breath. We
arrive
at the library but dart towards the empty right-side, the science
classrooms. We hope
to examine the thought-skirmishes on your right thigh, to turn  
and change this hopeless world-spinning into centrifuge
separation-
make apparent the light from the dark
                        the firmament from the void
                        the flesh from the plastic, the-
here we are as you talk
about your family and I
try my best to look you
in the eye so I
can become
your eyes
even when
normally
I
am
so
vehemently
against

staring

at the soul-gates of another being-
here we are as you talk;
God is still missing from the centrifuge
of the endlessly turning world- your
axis
is your skin yet
you trust it
not. The salads without dressing,
        the weighing scales,
        the taste of bile at the back of your
throat-
all for skin that
       you
do
not
      trust.
All for flesh that you think is plastic
so
     you
     cut.
      
             Enough
talk because the bell cuts through the flesh
of our conversation. Enough
talk because the world insists on
turning still
and forcing us to revolve
with it. Enough
breathing, enough
snow, enough
life. I remember you saying
that the ratios of your face are wrong;
that certain equilibriums do not exist between
your cheeks your lips your eyes your life…I remember the science
classrooms where parts of you were as mathematical as the architecture... I remember how
you keep thinking your flesh is plastic… You forget how
inglorious the nature of these words is. The problem
with human thought, with the ratios of your face, with the
geometric structures that cut across your thighs, with the
statistical neatness with which your family decomposes;
the problem with our conception of perfect is how
awkwardly it both exists and does not exist for us to
see.
The ratios of your face which you think are broken are
the same miracles I wonder about as you laugh. The incorrect distance
from your cheek to your eye which you think is wrong is the same
lightyear which separates the stars from the planets. The curvature
of your stomach is the bending of a spacetime to accommodate
the way the air must move to let your body occupy the space and time in which it
exists.
The ratios you speak of spring from your own limitlessness, your own
perfect imperfections , imperfect perfections-
strange oddities and unfathomable beauties and yes. Yes,
even the ridges across your right thigh are minute, red,
gasping
grand-canyons of
flesh,
of human, of breathing clay
flesh-
           never
plastic;
            always
worthy.
            
              Recently the voices in my head have been getting louder,
telling me all sorts of things about how the snow ought to bury me
in its mercilessness. They mention also that my words bear no meaning,
my thoughts even less so. Assumedly, the ridges across your thigh
carry such spectres as well but, I messaged you before you went to bed
about coming out and having an adventure because tick-tock-tick-tock…tick…tock…tick-
the last bell of the day is going to ring soon and the voices and ridges
will assert themselves again with the bedtime silence, but check your Facebook
messages and come outside and let’s go skipping with your friends across
the century-old polished prep-school brick pathways that smell archaic because it’s

snowing outside and it’s lovely.
For a friend.

Update, 4/23/2018, the poem found a home here: https://postscriptpublication.wordpress.com/2018/04/22/ratios/   thanks to a friend.
AS Jun 2014
Dresses and makeup,
this or that hairstyle,
salads and chocolates,
preparing for the night.
It's gonna be awesome,
that's all I know
love and lights
are gonna glow.
Preparing For Junior Prom :)
dj Apr 2012
clanking clank slurp, ka-boom
the slop runs down a throat
merrily merrily terribly chilled
the gunk rolls down a throat.

the
forks spoons knives
plates salts salads
and wines
ding and echo like
soft butterfly tea parties
all gone rabid.
throughout the walls of pictures of food
and the butterfly echos echo
and dinging cups splash
and forks click and clock
(and and,..and!)

hold my breath.

clanking cubes of ice
bing against one another
Gluttonous Pig slobs them down with
a spoonful of spicy French soup
Pigman talks to Pigwoman; spittle flying out of
his piggy chops.
he stares at my forehead
they see my odd selection
she's laughing insanely at a joke
I'm holding my eyes inside my head
while

all on my plate sit the legs
of baby spiders
all on my dish are darting
sow eyeballs
pitcher plant garnish
and frozen grey custard for dessert; (echos still in the restaurant)
I gag outloud
the Fat Pigman scoffs at this
my heart pops inside its cage
and the waiter rolls his eyes at the mess.
sometimes I will zone out and start listening to all the noises during my time at eateries. it's not enjoyable. this poem is about that.
b for short Jan 2016
This I resolute
Salads can't create ****.
More bounce to the ounce.
© Bitsy Sanders, January 2016
I

There was an ancient City, stricken down
With a strange frenzy, and for many a day
They paced from morn to eve the crowded town,
And danced the night away.

I asked the cause: the aged man grew sad:
They pointed to a building gray and tall,
And hoarsely answered "Step inside, my lad,
And then you'll see it all."

Yet what are all such gaieties to me
Whose thoughts are full of indices and surds?

x*x + 7x + 53 = 11/3

But something whispered "It will soon be done:
Bands cannot always play, nor ladies smile:
Endure with patience the distasteful fun
For just a little while!"

A change came o'er my Vision - it was night:
We clove a pathway through a frantic throng:
The steeds, wild-plunging, filled us with affright:
The chariots whirled along.

Within a marble hall a river ran -
A living tide, half muslin and half cloth:
And here one mourned a broken wreath or fan,
Yet swallowed down her wrath;

And here one offered to a thirsty fair
(His words half-drowned amid those thunders tuneful)
Some frozen viand (there were many there),
A tooth-ache in each spoonful.

There comes a happy pause, for human strength
Will not endure to dance without cessation;
And every one must reach the point at length
Of absolute prostration.

At such a moment ladies learn to give,
To partners who would urge them over-much,
A flat and yet decided negative -
Photographers love such.

There comes a welcome summons - hope revives,
And fading eyes grow bright, and pulses quicken:
Incessant pop the corks, and busy knives
Dispense the tongue and chicken.

Flushed with new life, the crowd flows back again:
And all is tangled talk and mazy motion -
Much like a waving field of golden grain,
Or a tempestuous ocean.

And thus they give the time, that Nature meant
For peaceful sleep and meditative snores,
To ceaseless din and mindless merriment
And waste of shoes and floors.

And One (we name him not) that flies the flowers,
That dreads the dances, and that shuns the salads,
They doom to pass in solitude the hours,
Writing acrostic-ballads.

How late it grows! The hour is surely past
That should have warned us with its double knock?
The twilight wanes, and morning comes at last -
"Oh, Uncle, what's o'clock?"

The Uncle gravely nods, and wisely winks.
It MAY mean much, but how is one to know?
He opens his mouth - yet out of it, methinks,
No words of wisdom flow.

II

Empress of Art, for thee I twine
This wreath with all too slender skill.
Forgive my Muse each halting line,
And for the deed accept the will!

O day of tears! Whence comes this spectre grim,
Parting, like Death's cold river, souls that love?
Is not he bound to thee, as thou to him,
By vows, unwhispered here, yet heard above?

And still it lives, that keen and heavenward flame,
Lives in his eye, and trembles in his tone:
And these wild words of fury but proclaim
A heart that beats for thee, for thee alone!

But all is lost: that mighty mind o'erthrown,
Like sweet bells jangled, piteous sight to see!
"Doubt that the stars are fire," so runs his moan,
"Doubt Truth herself, but not my love for thee!"

A sadder vision yet: thine aged sire
Shaming his hoary locks with treacherous wile!
And dost thou now doubt Truth to be a liar?
And wilt thou die, that hast forgot to smile?

Nay, get thee hence! Leave all thy winsome ways
And the faint fragrance of thy scattered flowers:
In holy silence wait the appointed days,
And weep away the leaden-footed hours.

III.

The air is bright with hues of light
And rich with laughter and with singing:
Young hearts beat high in ecstasy,
And banners wave, and bells are ringing:
But silence falls with fading day,
And there's an end to mirth and play.
Ah, well-a-day

Rest your old bones, ye wrinkled crones!
The kettle sings, the firelight dances.
Deep be it quaffed, the magic draught
That fills the soul with golden fancies!
For Youth and Pleasance will not stay,
And ye are withered, worn, and gray.
Ah, well-a-day!

O fair cold face! O form of grace,
For human passion madly yearning!
O weary air of dumb despair,
From marble won, to marble turning!
"Leave us not thus!" we fondly pray.
"We cannot let thee pass away!"
Ah, well-a-day!

IV.

My First is singular at best:
More plural is my Second:
My Third is far the pluralest -
So plural-plural, I protest
It scarcely can be reckoned!

My First is followed by a bird:
My Second by believers
In magic art: my simple Third
Follows, too often, hopes absurd
And plausible deceivers.

My First to get at wisdom tries -
A failure melancholy!
My Second men revered as wise:
My Third from heights of wisdom flies
To depths of frantic folly.

My First is ageing day by day:
My Second's age is ended:
My Third enjoys an age, they say,
That never seems to fade away,
Through centuries extended.

My Whole? I need a poet's pen
To paint her myriad phases:
The monarch, and the slave, of men -
A mountain-summit, and a den
Of dark and deadly mazes -

A flashing light - a fleeting shade -
Beginning, end, and middle
Of all that human art hath made
Or wit devised! Go, seek HER aid,
If you would read my riddle!
I hate honesty
And I hate that no one likes my poems
And I hate that no one will understand this
But writing for me is like setting my heart free

I hate being away from him
Because at night after a long miserable day
I need him close
I just went on vacation
But it was only fun in between
The yelling
And swelling
And the pain
And today I imagined my arms
Cut up
And I hate those thoughts
And I hate feeling weak
I don't wanna watch this kid anymore
He's not mine
I don't wanna hurt
I wanna be with him
Whenever I want
And I want them to stop doubting us
I wanna feel free
To work toward my goals without
These things weighing me to the ground
I want him and school and my dreams
I want to work and be normal
At least a little
I want to breathe and not feel like a monster
I don't wanna be fat
But I don't wanna eat meat and eggs and salads
I want fruit and yogurt and nuts
And I want to smile
I want to smile
With hope all these things will come true
When in reality I'd settle for one
Just one.
Robin Carretti Jun 2018
Everything plus-minus,
Venus, I beg you
to sponge me
All her fishes
Swim to surplus
and I imagine John
and all the people living
in peace but your niece looks
like Octopus
A priority the postman comes
Again twice got sponged
paid another
wet your
palate
price

His sturdy strong
legs
Milkman diary
but so many legs
But not enough time
Seattle rain
dating site
of Squid
She said to put a
lid on it
With such fluid
of water legs

They can really swim
Diet of fish my mask had
holes Swiss cheese lace
The golf game hole in one
sponge
I am home cooking
Calamari all knifed
inside like
Samkari  Uncle Sam
Sponged in with a lady
in her Mercedes

All squid-crabmeat
Those fish cakes water
crabby women
town
Sponge Bob aquarium
what an age
The college sorority
took over
the man's legs
Colliegate Girly
Fun side
authority sponge me
anytime no cell phone
So precocious hair rinse
game
So fictitious
legs so pompous
showing
Something always
more flirtatious
Sponge wet lips
she thought things were
clean delicious women
why do we
get devious wanting
what others have
You cannot share
your way too jealous
everyone became about the
The next winner New Jersey
Mrs. Cleaner not the dry ones
joy luck don't press me out
Club sandwich of legs
Got sponged
obnoxiously
I Apple phones
too much of a bite
She got bugged
things had to change
They deleted
everyone's name
Those monstrous

Mother in laws belly buttons
with gems rings of octopus
Everytime the same things
Octopus every October
They were Cowboy riders
And baked trio swingers
Quickdraw Mcdonald burglar
the gun always the silencer
Those sponge ladies love
to clean with their dancer's legs
Hitting some ***** spots
with her sponge
Those octopus men muscles
Leg lift Taylor Swift
Men love their leggy
eating muscles
Snake eyes of Venom
That jellyfish way too clean
lemon
Those surrenders
and wet calender
reminders
They got suspicious email
But lemons are the climate
Of October clean
Halloween became
beyond nasty
Thirteen sides slippery
Got slimy at the Door concert
Jimmy with his Morris(sons)
  Octopus
Octopus caused a vigorous
scene smashing pumpkins
There is no science to an
Octopus and sponge
But she loves her computer
and it was
an infectious disease
She was overly had
obsessive-compulsive
behavior

Cleaning it with her sponge
Eating her blueberry
sponge cake big mistake
She became on this sugar
leg kick really sick
Aggressiveness
So reckless or
Metamorphosis
Wheres her thesis
What a day for the sponge to
be doomed with curses
Sponge talk ***** lounge
Cafe with mud packs
Dilemmas

Sponge sticking to Mamas
Octopuses garden wanting
to hold your hand
The Beatles pin cushion shaped;
like an Octopus needles
I am the Walrus all doodles
Meretricious appliances
Her child had
Octopus performance
What allowances

Woodstock New York
The concerts heavy rained on
Purple haze Octopus
You needed to ring it
out on the clothesline
This felt like a pipe dream
The Octopus needed
more money

All burlesque Cher legs I got you
Sponged
The seamstress what madness
The butterfly lost her wings
Hannibal all Octopuses cannibal
They were sewed into the
Octopus picnic outing
Salads calamari tomato rotten
Got crush from her leggy

Going out of the country but
I cant back down
Tom Petty got sponged
with a  million buggies
Dr. Seus Octopus in the hat
Her legs got flat
That's a Jerry Mcquire Hire
Octopus got so baked I wonder
who made the fire
Got sponged into something but the Octopus is everything too leggy feel the buggy  but how much time do we really have make it leggy and get into this action
Ian Lewis Apr 2013
Life is like lemons.
You can do so much with them
like flavor salads
and top cakes.
Some people don't like them
so they cut them open,
and drain them out into the garden
so their flowers will smell good,
then they throw them away.
But the people who use them for good,
those lemons will never be sour.
wyatt rabbit Jun 2014
In a town just up the mountain
straight out of an old John Wayne movie
where there's no parking lots
just places to tie up your horse
and the jail has one cell
and you'd expect to see Billy the Kid
breaking out of it any minute now
joshua trees
and tumble weeds
and all the bars have swinging doors
and there's a coffin leaning up against one of the walls
of the bar with the swinging doors
that's where you took me to your favorite place in the whole world
a restaurant
where a different band plays every night
with a different sound and a different look
from ones composed of old hippies and cowboys
playing their accordions and mandolins
singing old folk songs that everybody just knows
you don't know how you know
you just do
and then to the band of kids
straight out of suburbia
singing songs about ******* and heartache
with their hair slicked back
and their pants rolled up
and their moms are sitting right there
in a table right in front of the stage
eating burgers and salads and talking about the burgers and salads
then there's the girl from New York
she spells her name real weird and keeps her hair long and flowing
just like her dress
and she sings about empty motel rooms
and the Bhagavad Gita
and she tells stories in between songs
and there's writing all over the bathroom walls
little gems like
"what would Joan Jett do?"
or
"punks not dead, punks sleepin' drunk"
but mostly
just names of lovers in hearts
sometimes just initials like a secret code only they know
and the dates that they became lovers
there's paintings on all the doors
horses and hookers and cowboys under the stars
and all the walls around the stage
are covered in license plates
one from California from 1939
one shaped like a bear from Canada
one from Saskatchewan
wherever that is
and all the drinks
come in mason jars
and all the candles on the tables do too
and none of the chairs match
but that just makes them all unique
you're sitting in a one of a kind
but the whole place is really one of a kind
and that's why it's her favorite
she finds all these things to be just beautiful
not to mention the bartender keeps giving her free drinks
because it's her birthday and they take her word for it
and she's making friends with all the hippies
and she's dancing under the strings of lights
and we're kissing under the dark black sky
and I've never seen her so happy.


*s.mndi
Jeff Gaines Jun 2018
HEAR YE!
HEAR YE!

SALUTATIONS TO ALL THOSE PRESENT!

GREETINGS!

HENCEFORTH AND FOREVER MORE ...
JUNE THE TWELVE
SHALL BE KNOWN AMONG ALL HERE AT HELLO POETRY
(AND ALL POETS WORLDWIDE)
AS "TEMPORAL FUGUE DAY"

TO WIT:

You will be compelled to go to McDonald's ...
on this date and at any time.
As you step to the counter to place your order
you MUST speak only in rhyme!

You can order salads ...
a burger with cheese ...
breakfast or filet-o-fish
Choice of drink is surely yours ...
order any and all that you wish!

Just make certain
that ALL that you say ...
in the spirit of poets EVERYWHERE
comes out in a rhyming way!

Let's show them solidarity
Tell the world that we are here ...
with wisdom and harmony
finding love and facing fear.

I further compel you
to your language you must translate ...
this declaration so that all the poets in the world will know
to do this on this date.

Not just to show them our pride so fierce
and that it isn't just any rumor.
Let's show the world that poets are amazing
and even have senses of humor!

So ... Plot out your order
and what you will say.
Let's go and have fun with this.
Let's make it OUR day!

WE ARE HERE!
>>PLEASE<< read this to understand where this is coming from:

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2548700/temporal-fugue-goes-to-mcdonalds/

I hope everyone spreads this word and does this for ourselves and for our craft. It isn't so much about Temporal Fugue, he is just the inspiration for this. It is about us here at HP and ALL the poets in the world!

We may not share views, religions or styles.
BUT we DO share the most important thing of all ...

PASSION!

No matter the subject!

Imagine the news reports of these "flash mobs", if-you-will, showing up at McDonald's AROUND the world and ordering in RHYME!

Let's bring our love for others AND our craft to the WORLD!

SPREAD THE WORD!

Good Times INDEED!

COMMENT BELOW AND TELL US WHERE OR HOW YOU ARE GOING TO PARTICIPATE!

JOIN US!
A C Leuavacant Jun 2014
It was at one time
Many fine days or years ago
Near a place I had known well
Somewhere I had long since
Deemed as 'a place to be'
It was there
That I first met Dwell.  
I had waited there all night
for any such sign
of a slow sunrise
That seemed at the time
Like it would never come  
So there I sat by myself
On a grassy heap
Recently dampened
By the passing morning dew
Trickling through the grass
And overpassing my eyes.
It was sometime in late June
Just as midsummer's day
Had passed away  
I Alone in the countryside
Just as the vague light
of early morning
had passed through the sky
Unsure of whether  
It would turn into something more
Or just slouch back into more night
And I remember
Remember feeling so uncertain
Of what was going to happen next
It felt like a divine crossroad
Two paths
with two equally likely roads
And ways to go.
'On the one hand' I said to myself
'If the sun is doomed not to rise
I could become the king
Who all would despise'
For I had and always will be
A man of the night
A dark towered figure
passing through black corners
That could be me in royal robes.
And I laughed to myself
It certainly had got to
that stage of the night.
But alas there it was
Unmistakably clear
The golden curl of sunlight
Passing through the clouds
Just sunrise
No dark kingdoms for me
No
Just the prize of morning
a small reward for
Surviving the night alone again.

And It was just then
That I heard the first sign  
A clip, a stumble and a low drone
as I peered up
What a sight met my eyes
Out of nowhere it seemed
Something
That I had never ever seen before
High in the sky
Almost touching the sun
It was old Dwell's Zeppelin
Of course
But I had no idea of that
back then.
As it came closer I stood up
A black frame traced with letters
It Contrasted well
with the indigo sky
And I must admit
That even I in my wisdom
And lessons of earth
could not hold back my fear.
But I would not run
I just sat and watched as it fell
Fell down down down
And landed in a nearby lake.
I could read it now
If I squinted my eyes
'Dwell and Co'
It read
'Traveling tailors
Workers of wind
Magicians of sea
And loyal dream makers'.

Before too long
When the clouds all had passed
I heard a click
from the Zeppelin's door
And then a splash
And upon seeing it open wide
I decided to take a look
At that thing in the lake.
I stood by it's edge
And watched.

And then
Down by the lake  
Out of nowhere
An old wooden bridge did appear
From nothing
like some unrehearsed magic trick
Connecting the zeppelin
To where I stood
I almost fell over as I looked at it
Old rotten wood
with dusty lit lanterns along
And just then a figure stepped out
Dark and small
walking towards me
His face catching the light
Not ancient, not young
With a dumb happy smile
He approached me
eyes covered
with those low flight goggles
He wore on his eyes
'It's oh so nice to finally
Meet you my friend!
Your thoughts
they have touched us
And we cannot pretend
That we're not intrigued
So let me welcome you here
There's no need to hide
Please come on with me
And I'll show you inside'
He brandished his hand
And waved me towards
The bridge that had just arrived
And I was confused
By his confusing words
Who in the world
Did he think I was?
'Its nice to meet you too and You're ever so kind'
I responded to him
'But oh can you please
explain what's going on?
I don't want to be mean
But this is the only
floating bridge zeppelin
that I've ever seen'
He chuckled and chortled and said
'Dually received
We'll tell you inside
Of how much you've achieved'
So intrigued as I was
I followed him onto that old bridge
And across the blue lake
And approached the old door
Of that monstrous thing
towering high.
And as the man turned to step inside and out of the light
He stopped for a moment
He looked at me and said
'Don't worry my friend
things are about to get better
Oh and I forgot
The name Is Magician Pepper'
I was still in a daze
And didn't say much
But stepped inside after Mr Pepper.

Inside was different story
And again my eyes
could hardly believe what I saw
Walls of gold
floors of silver
All laced with jewels
Made up the interior
Of an old style living room
Cozy and neat
Magician Pepper announced
that he would go inform Dwell
Of my arrival
He exited the room
And he left me alone
To stumble around this paradise

'What a place'
I thought to myself
As I looked around
And counted the sights
From the shining carpet
To the amber chandelier
And as I had my back turned
Eyes fixed on that glowing red fire
That had previously
Not been seen
A noise behind me
Came shuffling through
And one deeply toned voice
Said  'I knew it was true'
I turned and there he stood
The one who I knew
Would make all ok.
He stood at the base
Of a staircase
That had not been present a moment ago.
Magician Pepper at his Side
And a small white dog by his feet
A tall man was he
With short dark hair at his sides
And Green sparkling eyes.
He was one of a kind alright
Just one look at him
Made you stop caring
made me stop caring
About irregularities
And Zeppelins
It just made me want to
Just go on
Go on and flourish.
He raised his lips
And carried on as before
And I listened right up
'I know this is a strange vision to appear
But once I heard that you were so near
I just need to stop and meet you
In the flesh
You're an interesting Man
I must confess
My name Is Dwell
Of Dwell and Co.
This is my Zeppelin
And my dog Kato
Yes, I'm so sorry
You're probably so confused
Of what exactly
It is that we do!
Well we are dream makers
The swappers  
The tradesmen of dreams
We listen to thoughts
And answer your pleas'
Now I at this time was taken aback
For what on earth did he mean
'I'm sorry'
I said
'And it's just that you
you're a dream maker?
That cannot be true'
Dwell just smiled and gestured
To come up those grand stairs.
Apparently my views were tainted
I knew they were
I had not been the same
For a while now.
Times may be strange
But maybe Dwell will help me
Hopefully.

At the top of that staircase
Was an oblong door
Hung swift with Golden bolts
Dwell swung it forwards
To reveal it's heart
The control room
The centre
Full of Buttons and knobs
and fancy machines
Stood all along
'It really does sound like a lie'
Said he
'This is but the cockpit of dreams
For what I do is
answer the screams
I travel from world to world my friend
Time to time
You must have known there's more out there
Are you not that way inclined?
With a press of this button'
And he gestured at three
'We'll zap up away
And who knows where we'll be?'
My ears were on fire
But believe him I did
'Is it all for fun?
or do you make a few quid'
Pepper really laughed now at this
And Dwell stood as he slowly unfurled
'Most people main doubt is us leaving the world.
But you seem quite eager
Quite keen to help
Seems like you're better
Than anyone else'
And I did smile at him
And I did understand

He told me all he knew
We sat there
Sat there all morning
And all I did was listen
To big tales of travelling men
And the barriers
Of trans-dimensional travel
That he Dwell had overcome
To enable his ship
To cross between worlds
And as Dwell finished
I knew what he wanted
And I started to Grin
'Please Mr Dwell, when can I move in.

I can't tell you the feeling
as Dwell pressed
one of the buttons three
We sped into the air
and were gone
Like a flash
I was unaware
of why I was so ready for it
Like an Albatross soring
above the clouds
We rose
Higher
And higher
A spinning around us
Rocked our bones
And it was then
That me
With Dwell
With Pepper
And the small dog Kato
Vanished from the sky.

I sat all around me
as the wind rose
The thick smoke of city
That filled the streets
But that was no city
I had ever seen
And As we swooped down low
I looked down
And saw the concrete metropolis
Of another world.
A worse of world than my own
For streets lined with cannons
And fire lit roads
I didn't know why
We had come to this place
'Do not fear'
Said Dwell
'This is but an echo of hell
Our destination lies
somewhere above
But what is travel without some
Things we don't love.'
And all through the day we flew and flew
With pops and bangs
And splutters and coughs
Through fields and through oceans
Past winds and villages
We swung down like a beauty
And me myself
Could feel the tap tap
From Dwell's magnificent brain
And as it grew faster
I know we would stopping soon
And sure enough
Soon we started to descend
On a small hill top above
A valley of low hung grass
And Dwell said
'This is the place'.
And I peered out at the grass
As Magician Pepper
Gestured to walking downstairs.

The hill had a light of mossy green
And all around
the wind was unchanged
As we disembarked
The sun shone so bright
Lighting up the beautiful day
Of coloured poppies
And daffodils
Of the now high up sun
In the light of maturing day
And I asked Dwell
'Why does the sun still stay so high in the sky
When worlds and nights and days have passed by?'
'Tis a strange thing indeed'
Replied he
As he he strolled through
The exquisite view
'It must be a trick
Or a practical joke'
And he gave me a wink
Before Pepper spoke
'Ah yes indeed, you see
It's just an illusion.
The sun protects good and evil
And prevents their fusion'
I did not fully understand
But what had I not
On that day.

A small wooden cottage stood
Not far away
And Dwell in his day shirt
Led us the way
Always smiling and never a frown
And I noticed all of a sudden
How happy i'd been
All day with Dwell
With these mystical friends
Alone with the nature
And hard pressed old world

The wooden door
Of the wooden hut
Stood a little ajar
And Magician Pepper
Pulled it open to show
A small frail old table
With a white table cloth
He pulled it outside
As me and Dwell watched
The sun on our necks
And grass at our feet
As Kato ran and jumped
in the field.
The table was laid
And we all sat down
And looked around
All around at the sights
Of that beautiful world
In a daze I still was
And Pepper brought out
Plates of hot and cold lunch
Meats and salads
And all things good
Hot jugs of milk
And fresh honey from bees
We sat there all day it felt
Discussing the day and our lives
And I swear
In that moment
I felt as if
Nothing could do me wrong
And I was the king
I oh so longed to be
Just to be here
Sitting with Dwell
And his team
I momentarily forgot
About the dark pit
Of my normal life
The losses I had
The dreams that I'd missed
At this time we were here
And I was king
Of this high mountain top.

And the day wondered on
And the sun started to fall
And as Dwell looked up
He almost shed a tear
As he said
'Oh such great fun we've had
On this day
But the time has indeed come
To be on our way
For the burning got sun
Is just an hourglass
And we cannot return once
It's fully passed'
So we all packed away
Our wonderful lunch
And put it all back
Into that small wooden hut
And walked all the way back
Through the now orange field
Slowly loosing light
With the progress of the dying sun.
And Pepper drove Dwell's airship
Back into the sky
And up up so high.
Before long we were back where
Soaring through worlds
Mountains and rivers
All now in the dying sun
'I do hope
you've enjoyed your day with us'
Said Dwell with a small little sigh
'It's such a shame that we must say goodbye
But we've got to keep moving and changing the world
For that is just what we do'
and it brought a tear to my
As I looked down Finally
As the sun touched
the horizon line
And I could see the lake
Where we had started.

As we landed I felt hollowed out
Hollowed out but happy
And the Bridge was there now
Pepper, Dwell and Kato
Followed me on it
And as I reached the end
Dwell took my hand
And shook it firmly in his
'What a fine day
What a lovely day
Don't worry my friend it will all be ok
For pain may hit you
And break you in two
But as long as you look up
And dream of this day
Nothing of pain
Will ever stay'
'One last question'
I said with a turn
'Anything, said Dwell'
'Your ship talks of dreams
And happiness making
But why on earth
Does it say you are tailors?'
Dwell made a laugh
and started to walk away
Pepper shook my hand
Kato gave me a bark
'Well as you know
We are the makers of dreams
The lighters of light
And stoppers of screams
It sounds so grand'
laughs old Master Dwell
'But we do fix clothes as well'
And with that
They left
And I watched as the door closed
The Zeppelin took flight
And soon was gone.
And I stared at where
It just had been
Just me
Quite alone
In the now utter darkness

and I returned up the path
Back to the grassy heap
Where the dew had now dried
I sat back down
And looked up at the moon.
I think I must have
waited up all night once more
I waited for Dwell
Even though I knew
he would not return
My day had passed
My time was up

Days passed
Then weeks
Months and years
I was a better man than
I once had been
And now every night
I stare into the sky
And think back to that day
That changed my life
And I wonder if it was real
Or just an illusion
An illusion like the lying sun
Or that Day with Dwell
And Magician Pepper
I've told the tale many times
since then
The Tale of
Dwell's infinite Paradise
I realise it is quite long.
My attempt at an 'epic' style poem.
Jonny Angel Feb 2014
I want to be a hippie,
join a small commune,
set up my camp
way out in the woods,
near the back forty
& the railroad tracks.

I want to swim naked
with them pretty chicks,
braid natty dreads,
go tubing on the river,
make beeswax candles
& tie dyes.

I want weave dream catchers,
paint glitter on Venetian beads,
sing happy songs,
create new stars,
eat whole wheat bread
& make Tabouili salads.

I wanna dance,
circle the blazing fire,
shout out at the moon,
splash myself in patchouli,
smell ****-smoke in the air
& indulge in tantric things.

I don’t wanna
hurt anybody,
break any laws,
just wanna spread love,
blow kisses to butterflies,
ride double-rainbows
on magic carpets
& be a hippie.
Danielle Shorr Apr 2014
Dear lover
By the time we fall in love i would hope that you will have already learned my name, but just in case you havent i will tell you. My name is danielle lauren shorr. danielle like some ancestor i never met, lauren because my mom liked it, and shorr like the beach. I like the beach. No more like love the beach. Maybe almost as much as i will love you. I like the sand between my toes, the way the wind blows through my hair and makes it an ugly mess, i like the way pigeons search for any trace of food like its all one man for himself and this is the hunger games. I like food. But at first i might be embarrased to eat in front of you, i can attribute this to my history of insecurity and that ******* belief that girls are supposed to order salads on dates. But fear not. Because i hate spinach and fries with extra cheese are my favorite, and soon enough i will learn to embrace it. I will always want to embrace you. To hold you, to be close to you, i have an overwhelming need for touch. But a slight fear of intimacy. I will be afraid at first when you try to get close to me, i will put up my guard and attempt to hide my battle scars and everything i dont want you to know about me yet, ive been hurt before. And i know im not the only one on this earth who has been. But when i tell you that i want to get to know you i am telling you that i want to memorize every part of you like the way i used to stay up at night as a kid memorizing lines of books. I love to read. I love getting lost in the words that someone else wrote that so closely manage to speak to me. I want you to speak to me. When you are struggling or lacking in anyway i will assure you with 100% certainty that things will be okay. I will pull you out of pits of depression with every muscle, bone and limb i have in my body, i have not always been comfortable in my own body. And thats been a cause of my own depression. So when the day comes when i give myself to you, i am hoping that you will remember that every part of me is devoting itself to learning you, i want to learn you. I want to trace the lines of your skin, connect the dots with your freckles or birthmarks, play silly little games and hope you let me win, i will let you in. But only if you let me. And theres parts of me that arent my brightest, i will have days where i will be unable to see anything but darkness, i want you to hold me regardless of what i say, or my stubborness, i am stubborn. I am a taurus. When we fight i will be a bull, strong in my pride and unable to see any other side of the argument, i will tell you this right now: give up. unless its important. I want to feel important. I will want to be included in every part of your existence and when I’m not i will get annoyed and ******* and demand to be the center of your universe. I will act like this because i want to feel like i matter. Like i am matter on this earth so important that if i disappeared even for a mere second the earth would crumble and fall into pieces. And if i crumble and fall to pieces, i only ask one thing of you. Do your best to help me back up, im not asking you to put me back together but to try your best to keep me from breaking even more. And when you break, know that i will be here to comfortyou. To hold you. To tell you that i love you. to make you laugh at the most innapropriate moments about the most innapropriate things, to make life seem a little less painful, and a little more bearable. I will do my best to help you stay your best. And if we end up not working, it will be okay. Because nothing will matter more than the love i gave to you when it was good and if in the end it doesnt go the way we thought it would, well, we'll be okay. But if it does. If this love stays, know that i will love you and give you every single day i have, i will make you remember why you decided to fall in love in the first place, i will make sure to make you feel okay, i will always make sure you're okay. if you're having a bad day, I'll be right there with you. I'll be here now and forever.
Sincerely your future lover.
Robert Zanfad Oct 2013
it's another autumn
migrating geese bark like dogs in distant clouds
marking their journey for earthbound creatures;
tree-crowns browning in rust
frame liquid skies neither of us reached,
though, our younger selves tried

from shelves of every Beatles' album ever made
organized alphabetically by noon after a vetted maid left;
we imagined rock stars strumming guitars,
turning our godawful poems into even worse lyrics
to make us feel important
in hungry aftermaths of disappointments

five star dinners cloistered within the entourage
of strongmen your father sheltered;
they would close restaurants for us
he spoke hushes of business from a stead at the head of table,
and broke men like you,
ordering salads made only from tender hearts of lettuce,
the rest set on plates of those less demanding

I remember blinking away teenaged intoxication like fever,
a world without rules for behavior,
a sixty mile drive to buy Italian hoagies in Atlantic City after midnight
because there was no one to deny an urge
to bend night to daylight; they reopened business for the son...
you knew they had no choice...

you showed me how to climb to my second story window once home again
leaving me hanging from the sill 'till Mom woke to let me in -
mind spinning, mumbling my drunkenness -
goodfellas never worry over consequences
she thought she hated you then,
I learned a measure of self-assurance

but there, in a too-small pup tent
you bought one summer by the sea
to work a job flipping burgers at the boardwalk for money
otherwise spent like water at the public shower
you bathed in

to be near any nagging mother
who set out an extra plate at dinner, because she secretly loved you, too
to be close to broke, dangling brothers like me
I felt the poverty of family

this morning I found the black suit and shoes in back of the closet-
abandoned search for lost yarmulkes that lived among mated socks
and wondered when my shadow disappeared
so many agos, this beard gray, time a dead skin I live in today

we'll lower a set of mortal remains into yet another Gethsemane -
under the cemetery canopy,
covering a carpet-rimmed hole still moist with yesterday's rain
I'll see the blue tent you sheltered in that season at the beach
feel closeness again as if there were no
intervening ocean of living between

there will be neither memorial service nor repast, after ...
only this
I romanticize humanity until what's left isn't even human.

I cook up fallacies about legal aliens and add a dash of cumin.

Your chef tosses salads in the pasta section of the grocery store.

Devil's just as confused, with a ***** and an apology at heaven's door.


You don't know, and no one cares where eggs go when they die.

Godzilla thinks of a car full of clowns like you would a sardine pie.

What happens when an elephant gets alzheimer's and loses keys?

Does the paradox consume an entire circus of trapeze-act-fleas?


I ruin birthday cakes by blowing off the frosting instead of the flames.

How I do that? Count backwards from backwards and say my names.

Bittersweet love anthems pollute the brains of conscientious dames.

Heavy metal doesn't pollute, it pacifies rage quitting from soul-******* games.


Out of the woodwork comes a limp ***** that would work,

Long hours only to find he'd pay millions for a Miley Cyrus twerk,

Which is worth about as much as an all-female circle ****,

Unless you add strap-ons, so strap in and lap up the knee-****-smirk.


It is unwise to handle scissors when one is being cutting-edge,

Because your accountants will dangle themselves off of a three-storey ledge,

When you cut up the ledgers and make light of, that is, burn, the evidence of pledge,

To the monkeys in your think-tank mailing feces to the upstart farmer's hedge.


Now I know you're sick of rhyming and of poems and of liver culling whisky,

But I must inform you of a pirate's missing eye, I've bought sight of something risky,

I implore that when this song and dance is done, you'll assuredly miss me,

Because I've told you everything about depravity, hence forth you must kiss me.


Beacons of hope shine much like cantankerous silver in the moonlight.

If you're a werewolf that will fill you with hope and with immeasurable fright.

One day the world will admit that I'm awesome and impoverished to boot,

Because when the song and dance is done, what's left is just an ounce of loot.
Another poem from my vault that I forgot about.
I wrote this poem today, July 20th, of 2015.
Reading this, I was astounded by the wordplay I employed.
There are certain things I've forgotten how to do poetically.

My poems now are more thoughtful, story-oriented, and laced with meaning.
This poem up here is pure play - wordplay, poeticism, rhyme, contrast, shock, mayhem, chaos. When I wrote poems like this, unknowingly, I did my best to dance around meaning. I played with it. Gave my readers just a taste of meaning as I, with comedy, made a spectacle of words.

I loved playing with words to full effect at the time. I was going through a lot of psychic pain. My illness was rampant. Writing helped ease the pain immensely and gave me joy.

I hope this little poem made you laugh as it did me :)

Enjoy!

DEW
Raj Arumugam Aug 2011
you’re not going are you
today to the edge of your seat
to the corners of insanity?
to the corners at the cinema
nearest the exit
to run off when the demons come
to sleep in the day
below your bed
so the rabbits cannot find you;
and then go for a walk
in the cold of the night
mumbling like Lady Macbeth
maybe now running a fast-food restaurant
and asking each tree in your garden :
Would you like some
manure with that?

you’re not going to Extremity Town
today, are you?
to tell the Mayor
he’s taken extreme measures
opening an animal sanctuary;
would he please
open an abattoir instead
where the animals skin humans?
Oh you’re not going
are you
to the bus-stop with a stopwatch
to time how long it takes for the passengers
to **** the driver?
Oh you’re not going are you
in the day or this evening or anytime tonight? -
to see if Jimmy the car mechanic
has diversified on your insistence
and if he now sells
in his garage
lingerie and toothpaste for that special night
and salads and beer and peanuts and spices
for first dates only

O you are going to have a good quiet sleep aren’t you
like owls in hollows
and you won’t offer any surprises to the world?
*not today?
Phoebe Nov 2019
Sometimes, it is not about
rising to the challenge
because falling from grace

Just hurts.
It just hurts.

Teeth stained red-
This is not a smile
And this is not a success story,
it is just a story

about life

and it hurts.
Here lies, whom hound did ne'er pursue,
Nor swiftewd greyhound follow,
Whose foot ne'er tainted morning dew,
Nor ear heard huntsman's hallo',

Old Tiney, surliest of his kind,
Who, nurs'd with tender care,
And to domestic bounds confin'd,
Was still a wild Jack-hare.

Though duly from my hand he took
His pittance ev'ry night,
He did it with a jealous look,
And, when he could, would bite.

His diet was of wheaten bread,
And milk, and oats, and straw,
Thistles, or lettuces instead,
With sand to scour his maw.

On twigs of hawthorn he regal'd,
On pippins' russet peel;
And, when his juicy salads fail'd,
Slic'd carrot pleas'd him well.

A Turkey carpet was his lawn,
Whereon he lov'd to bound,
To skip and gambol like a fawn,
And swing his **** around.

His frisking wa at evening hours,
For then he lost his fear;
But most before approaching show'rs,
Or when a storm drew near.

Eight years and five round rolling moons
He thus saw steal away,
Dozing out all his idle noons,
And ev'ry night at play.

I kept him for his humour's sake,
For he would oft beguile
My heart of thoughts that made it ache,
And force me to a smile.

But now, beneath this walnut-shade
He finds his long, last home,
And waits inn snug concealment laid,
'Till gentler **** shall come.

He, still more aged, feels the shocks
From which no care can save,
And, partner once of Tiney's box,
Must soon partake his grave.
liza May 2015
I planted seeds in you and you planted them in me.
I watered and watered and watered
I think I may have drowned them.
I was never a good gardener.

My mother had a garden for winter, spring, fall, and summer.
I didn't like to get my hands *****
I washed the breakfast dishes on Saturdays and finger painted the printer paper on the back porch.
She tended and weeded and poured love into every leaf.
While I picked blades of grass and made stick families on the porch steps.
I was never a gardener.
But I did watch.
I knew how to water. I knew how to ****.
I knew how to analyze what needs tenderness and what needs grit.
I knew how to water water water
I knew how to drown.

She cooked and cleaned and hid her face when Arthur screamed. She made dinner with the tomatoes she grew and salads with the cucumbers. She loved him with every ounce and never stopped. (she never stopped gardening)

I was never a good gardener. I never learned when to stop. My mother didn't teach me that part.
wakeupnirvana Aug 2013
I.

I went to wendy's yesterday
and I saw ed on the other day
and he carried with him, a bagful of books
and came along will, and saw him
they exchanged looks
and Will asked for some 'tools'
So came along Kim
who wore too much makeup
and she sat on the chair beside me
to look for boys who she would
hook up with.

II.

I went to wendy's yesterday
and I saw ed on the hay
and he carried with him, a handful of smokes
and he started to fling the smoke and breath in the air Inside his throat.
Then came along will, and saw him
he passed him a light, and gave a wink
they exchanged gifts
and ed asked for more ***
and will handed him, and ed gave his jackpot
So came along kim
who wore shorts and tops that showed her breast
she sat to the chair beside the teenager
and want to flirt with him over the motel
and gave her a wink
as she grabs the jackpot.

III.
I went to wendy's yesterday
and ordered for a milkshake
when I saw ed by the counter with his tray
and he carried with him, a gray bag full of *******
and he started to tuck it between him,
as he ordered a burger and some fries.
Then came along will, and saw him
he passed him the pack, and gave him a smile
they exchanged gifts
and will gave him the cash
and ed stashed the burger wrapper in the trash
So came along kim
who wore a mini skirt and tops that showed her cleavage
She sat to the chair beside the man
and the man smiled and gave her some cash
and gave him a wink
as he follow her to the motel

IV.
For graduation,
I came to wendy's to celebrate
and ordered salads for the day
and then I saw ed outside
handcuffed by the police for selling cyanide
and then I saw Will inside
displeased and gave a sigh
and brought out a smoke
to feel it's air deeply inside his thigh
that's when Tracey pointed to kim,
and told me she was selling some thing
and that she couldn't go with us to celebrate
Because of the baby in her den.
And lewis pointed to ed,
Said he was addicted
to the things that we weren't suppose to take.

V.**
I went yesterday at wendy's
and saw the coffin that was ed's
and saw the gun that Will was holding,
as he began to get the **** out of the man.
I chewed my burger that day at wendy's
and can't help but ask why
why the people was circling
around Kim's body.
By the sidewalk.
William Murray Sep 2010
Eyes that flash the soul of civilization
And warm the heart in observation.

Love that whispers with a gentle touch
And surrounds with hugs that seem so much.

Cry Beloved!

Water that caresses with a thousand tongues
Sunshine that coos all the birds’ songs

Teachers and vets, pronouns and clowns
Croissants, marmalade, coffee and new lawns.

Cry Beloved!

Breezes and sneezes, walks by the shore
Seashells that capture all the sea’s roar

Powdery sand and laconic lagoons
Daydreams and naps in the afternoons

Cry Beloved!

Smiles, museums, carriages in the park
Salads with friends and chocolates too dark

Rowing among lily pads and turtles and frogs
Hiking and crossing the streams on new logs.

Cry Beloved!

Flowers and bees buzzing in the sun
Hummingbirds hovering, dogs on the run

Children running, giggles and wiggles
Caring, learning, reading and snuggles

Cry Beloved!

Snowy mountains, valleys green
Faith proclaimed, faith unseen


Wonder and ponder, awe and reverence
Invitations from God to join in the dance

Cry beloved!

Hands held together in prayer and in love
Eyes raised to heaven on the wings of a dove

Caring so deep, affection so real
Feel the love and start to heal

Cry My Beloved!
William H. Murray © 2005
Dev Aug 2018
Some girls eat burgers instead of salads
Some use more sugar than spice
Some link their insta directly to the bloodstream
Some pump themselves full of ice
Some girls will drink themselves into a hole
Where some girls may never come out
Some girls will split themselves open
Just so they don’t have to feel the doubt
Some girls will break you or make you
Just to make themselves whole
Some girls will beat you, demean you,
Some girls will never grow old.
Some girls eat burgers instead of salads
And are crucified for being unhealthy
But in the scheme of things, it’s not the worst.
I’d rather be carb loaded and love wealthy.
Marshall Gass Jul 2014
All he could see were numbers
that reached out and grabbed taxes
and takes, invoices and expenditures.
He could not see explanations of delight
that little mistake I made with fringe benefits,
those royalties that never came.
In the end his only concern was to pay the taxes
to build the roads, skyways and airports
where he would travel and stay.

I wondered how he slept at night
cocooned in numbers
just 1-9 with a hefty zero
that made the difference between rich and poor

I wondered how he could survive on numbers
no cucumbers, sunshine salads, beach beauties,
high waves of reckless living, low tides of penniless nights
and endless days of counting little many times over.

He said to me once: Save every cent,
fortify yourself against depression and
natural disasters, don't spend lavishly
there's a price to pay
cut up your credit card. Live austerely.

Oh yeah?. That same day I got an extra CC,
a nice Merc, some good looking sunglasses
(to shield my eyes from the accountants glare)
and a cruise to the Mediterranean
where the blue waters beckoned.

The accountant visited the GP
twice more than me that year.
I'm still working the fat off at the gym.
( I suspect petty poets do the same thing all the time?)
Author Notes

Anyone know this guy?

Check this Novel out!

The Chrysanthemum Trilogy: Transition
Marshall E Gass
ISBN 9781493137848
Desperation doesn't sit well
with the after dinner speaker
when depression's
stood beside the pepper ***.

There's a cloud that always rains on me,
not fair to me
not fair to you to put you through the
darkest times,
when in two minds not knowing when
I'm back to being me again.

— The End —