"sesame" poems
1
My mother would say:
“Little boy Raj…
Go to Muthu’s
and get some
cinnamon, betel leaves
and ginger and garlic”
And so I go to the shops
singing all the way
and when Muthu asks me
what I’d want
I rattle off a list:
“Sesame seeds, onions
tomatoes and pickles”
And back home,
Mother twists my ears
Ouch!
2
And inevitably I grew up
and inevitably I got married
and inevitably my wife says to me:
“Dear husband whom
I married in a fire-ceremony;
could you kindly go to Woolies
and get me some
flour, castor sugar,
pepper, pasta sauce and pancakes…”
And so I drive to Woolies
singing all the way;
and walking down the aisles
I throw the following
into the trolley:
cinnamon, betel leaves
and ginger and garlic…
And back home
though my wife does not twist my ears
I feel Mother reach forward
from the other world
and she twists my ears
Ouch!
Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 4:03 AM UTC
Music
Look up: "Superman" by Five For Fighting.
Kermit sings music by a Muppet Band called Frog's For Fighting...! "It's Not Easy To Be Green, I Can't Stand When High"
I can't stand when high,
I'm not that naive...
I'm just out to find the better part of green,
I'm more than a bird, I'm more than a bear,
I'm more than some-frog in piggy's underwear,
And it's not easy-to be-e-green...
Wish that I was high, ****** and half asleep,
Find a way to lie-about my *** on Sesame Street,
It may sound absurd, but don't be naive,
Even Muppets have the right to ****
I may be disturbed, but won't you concede,
Even Muppets croak upon Skunk-green,
And it's not easy-to be-e-green...
Once again-I'm small-I'm small and GREEN, well it's
Alright! We can all get "stoked" tonight, and I'm not
Blazing...or anything.
I can't stand when high...I'm not that naive,
****** I trip at night, on brownies buzzed on ****
I'm only a frog on Jim Hensen's knee,
Wearing pink lingerie on this one way street,
I'm only a frog on Jim Hensen's knee-looking for
Older guys who flirt with me
WHO FLIRT WITH ME...
who flirt with me...yea, who
Flirt with me...who FLIRT WITH ME...
I'm only a frog that's diggin' the green,
I'm only a frog on kronic seven leaves,
I'm only a frog that's puffin' on green, and it's not easy...
WOOOHOOOHOOOO...it's not easy to be-e
Greeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnn...
Dec 27, 2018
Dec 27, 2018 at 1:49 AM UTC
naked along the side of the house,
8 a.m., spreading sesame seed oil
over my body, Jesus, have I come
to this?
I once battled in dark alleys for a
laugh.
now I'm not laughing.
I splash myself with oil and wonder,
how many years do you want?
how many days?
my blood is soiled and a dark
angel sits in my brain.
things are made of something and
go to nothing.
I understand the fall of cities, of
nations.
a small plane passes overhead.
I look upward as if it made sense to
look upward.
it's true, the sky has rotted:
it won't be long for any of
us.
from The Olympia Review - 1994
5.8k
#
*Today's my daughter's wedding day.
And a wonderful thing it is;
To see her so excited,
So happy to be his.
But once she was my baby girl;
My only girl, love of my life.
But now she is a woman,
And just became his wife.
Once she was my baby girl,
Loved her mommy, and her toys;
But then, I couldn't stop it,
She grew up, and loved the boys.
Today's my daughter's wedding day.
How fast the time did go;
From little feet, and Sesame Street,
To a wedding gown it flowed.
From pretty locks, and lollipops,
She grew up straight and tall.
From baby things, to a wedding ring;
How I loved her through it all.
And now she will go forward,
To enter married life.
To share the good and bad times,
The happiness, and the strife.
I wish them both, the best of luck;
With a prayer that I will see;
Him bless them with a baby girl,
Just like he gave to me....*
#
May 5, 2018
May 5, 2018 at 2:15 AM UTC
He skipped and he hopped.
He popped and he locked.
He danced with his feet,
to Mcdonalds' fast beat.
He puffed up with pride;
warm in the inside.
And fresh with his lettuce;
junk food is his fetish.
He never thought what would come;
he thought it was all fun.
In a funky yellow wrapper
and into the warmer he went.
He heard the kaching of the cashier--
someone's money was spent.
He was dragged to the front line
where the lights were all bright.
Like he was sent in for interrogation;
Like in a murderer's plight.
And like that he went.
A tear from his bread skin:
the top of his sesame seed bun head
human teeth sank in.
He yelled and he screamed
with all that he got.
He thought he was happy.
But he's everything he's not.
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 7:54 AM UTC
Well Done.
She said, but don't ***** it up. Its a start.
How could I?
Your sauciness drove right thru my heart.
Will you please be my bottom bun?
Baby, you're my seed number one.
Sesame wants Sesayou
Tardy to your selfworth day party
Salty, and peppered with hardy haught looks
I've overcooked this simple match up
Maybe baby I'm plain ketchup.
Feb 23, 2018
Feb 23, 2018 at 4:48 PM UTC
What a clamour,what a fuss.Getting on and off the bus.Pushing Nudging never was there.So much hurry,quick says mother,there is another,father answered,dont be silly. That one goes to sesame street.
Jan 24, 2010
Jan 24, 2010 at 5:35 AM UTC
Spoof song: sung to the tune of Five For Fighting's "Superman"
Kermit
I can't stand when high,
I'm not that naive,
I'm just out to find the better part of green,
I'm more than a bird, I'm more than a bear,
I'm more than some frog in piggies underwear
And it's not easy to be green...
Wish that I was high,
****** and half asleep,
Find a way to lie about my jones on Sesame Street
It may sound absurd-but don't be naive,
Even Muppets can smoke too much green,
I may be disturbed but wont you concede,
Even Muppets croak upon skunk ****
And it's not easy to be green...
**Once again I'm small-I'm small and green, well it's
All right, we can all get stoked tonight, and I'm not
Blazing...or anything...**
I can't stand when high,
I'm not that naive,
Drugs just get you fried,
*On hash and buzzed on ****
I'm only a frog on Jim Henson's knee
Wearing pink lingerie on this one way street,
Only a frog on Jim Henson's knee
Looking for older guys who flirt with me,
Yea flirt with me...who flirt with me, yea who flirt with me...
WHO FLIRT WITH ME...
I'm only a frog that's diggin' the green,
I'm only a frog on Kronik 7 Leaves
I'm only a frog who's puffin' on green
AND IT'S NOT EASY... wooohooohoooo...
It's not easy...to be-he...greeeeeen...
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 2:10 PM UTC
Sweet Earth, each molecule of me has come from you.
Sesame seed, broken into amino acids and calcium,
became my tiny bones; bananas, potassium,
the cells of my brain.
If we could trace each atom back, we'd find
Kansas, Iowa, Ecuador, Spain.
And further still, through unimaginable millennia,
these same atoms --the very same-- were flung from a supernova,
only to recombine, here, on Earth.
"Of star-stuff, are we made." Carl Sagan said.
And then (when I'm dead)
the same in reverse:
the atoms' slow dispersal:
pulled in by roots, washed by rivers, melted in magma,
blown, finally, to smithereens by the exploding sun....
Star-stuff, once again, become.
Aug 1, 2017
Aug 1, 2017 at 2:33 PM UTC
Always____**
Days
Months
Up to our loved ones
necks
Getting callbacks
and lookbacks
Will I be
most likely rejected?
Until dusk to Dawn
The full moon turned
What will be expected?
Shoved mouth to mouth
brewed into the
Starbucks
With any luck
It's hard to make
a buck $
The Dawn Lightning
Striking again wetter
Ridiculous remarks
and kicks
in the pants
He shoved
me into a romance
But we never
ended up where
I wanted to go
France
The editorial the
Mediterranean
Slim chance rainbow diet
The villas of the exotic
flowers riot
Vacationer in vineyards
Grassy bear
Mr. Griswald
Vacation despair
Party pushovers
The sour cherries OOh!
La Wee Vacation,
The push and shove
What's up
Doc_____*
The jilted Jump always
a stump
What-what
about the
President
Trump
Shoved me right
into
this poem
sonnet
Documents of
Vacations places
of memories
The Jack ***
Surrounded by
screwdriver
Or meeting the
screwballs_______
Or goofballs
Sesame Street parade
Big bird feast
His face climbed
Mount Everest
Dry mouth lips
((Frenchie Vermouth))
He's the
right fielder
The field Mr. Costner
on her left dreams
The toast all shoved
around the town
chauffeur
Don't shove me
inside
your world
vacation
Big problems not
like ordering
the best pizza
in Brooklyn
Memorial day
shoved into a soiree'
Unbelievable traffic
American Major
problem leagues
Upscale love signs
and graphics
To resolve this
Vacation big shots
The London
Hotshots
Society
At the worst time,
I had to do
Political speech
Don't shove
me or leave me
If you're not
going to please me
And not your
payroll to
tease me
He's next on the move
pushed to be shoved
I rose
I suppose
He shoved me
He gazed upon me
Like another ticket
to his vacation
He dazed with
his eyes
not to be loved
But all yummy
To take a bite
Apple strudel
pie
But dark ends
of petal
flowered bright
The last word
struggling to
feel shot
My payroll got me a raise
My own vacation
to myself big praise
to love me
Not to be pushed to
love someone
A vacation is to be
with someone that
treats you
on a pedestal
Don't shove me this
is my portal
May 25, 2018
May 25, 2018 at 2:44 PM UTC
The Helos hovered silently
as the Seals roped to the ground.
They touched down on Sesame Street
where the “Big Bird” could be found.
The C.I.A. had tracked him
Using feed from P.B.S.
President Mitt o.k’d the hit
when we tracked him to his nest.
A blue grouch in a garbage can
liay bleeding on the floor.
That **** named Cookie Monster
won’t eat cookies anymore.
Ernie, Bert and rubber ducky
Were in the bath they say
When Seal team six broke through the door
and blew them both away.
Big Bird hid in Hooper’s store
While all this had transpired.
Then he laid down suppressing fire
With a weapon he’d acquired
Several Seals lay silent
in that sleep that isn’t sweet.
Snuffleupagus opened up
and forced a Seal retreat.
A stealth Helo exploded
raining wreckage on the street.
Maddened Muppets hurling Bricks
compounded Mitt’s defeat.
As of today Big Bird’s at large.
Him we couldn’t whack.
The briefing failed to tell us
That a Liberal Bird fights back.
Oct 7, 2012
Oct 7, 2012 at 7:55 PM UTC
There is no shame, in moving back with your parents.
To them you still smell of diapers and the time you puked jelly beans all over the back of the car after you tilt-a-whirled your “I’m a big girl” attitude into giggles.
Around them you still clumsily tip over you own puberty when they ask you to clean your room.
You’re still in college. And that diploma on your wall is still less of an accomplishment, than when you suddenly discovered your thumbs.
So, how do you cope with the baby talk condescension scribbled over directions to empty a dishwasher properly?
1) Realize this is just temporary. You have till you’re at least 40 to fix this.
2) Clean your room of all the embarrassing childish evidence (i.e. N’Synch Posters, Pokemon Cards, Ect) . When CSI comes in they will just assume you were visiting.
3) Take long, long walks far, far away from your residence. Preferably the woods, so you may not run into any high school nemeses.
4) Pray you can get laid by someone, your age. Preferably someone you have not had any prepubescent encounters with already.
5) Eat all the free food you can.
With theses steps you can safely avoid pulling out your own fingernails with the self-loathing hiding under your bed.
Do not let it fill your Pog champion hands with delusions that you have failed to tie your own shoes, let alone pay your own taxes or get married.
Might as well give up those big girl pants and open lid cups and go back to Sesame Street and ******** in your own pants.
This…
Is only temporary.
You must say.
A temporary walk through the woods. Praying to lay down relax, and enjoy the air you are still eating.
This is only temporary.
Jan 21, 2013
Jan 21, 2013 at 11:14 PM UTC
You give me simple pleasure,
As I bite into your inner layer.
I love you in the morning
In between a bagel,
Sometimes with bacon.
In the afternoon,
By a salad’s side you sit,
With my favorite edibles-
Arugula, red peppers, fresh peas,
Black and green olives,
Topped with chicken, cheese,
Sesame vinaigrette, and,
A few croutons for crunch.
You are an Egg, but so much more.
The texture and depth of your yolk,
Sublime and sumptuous;
Your outside solid, yet undefined;
Balancing textures with what’s inside.
Egg,
You are truly
Divine.
Dec 8, 2018
Dec 8, 2018 at 11:56 PM UTC
give us this day our daily
emotional breakdown
and forgive us our
blackout binges
as we forgive those who
starve themselves for perfection
and lead us not into
inherited obesity
deliver us from
the mental ward
**FOR THERE IS SO
MUCH ******
BREAD IN THIS
HOUSE I CAN'T
TAKE IT ANYMORE**
on mlk day i shut my eyes
and see scenes of
squishy white rolls and
pats of margarine
bread
leaden
deadened
feeling in my stomach
*i can't eat any
more bread*
but here it is
in baskets and
coolers in
toasters and
cupboards
my daily bread
made to sustain me
but turned into
the enemy
deliver me
from risen
yeast in
third degrees
a flour coated
tyranny
mind control
through sesame
*swallowing
emotions
down
down
down*
quietly settles
until spring
somewhere between
my hope and skin
you can see me
smile and stand
straight and tall
but what you can't see
is this shouldn't be
my body at all
*give us this day
our daily bread
and give us the strength
to chew meat instead*
Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 11:22 PM UTC
It was late into the night
When Bert Ernie and I
Were traveling across the plans of Nebraska
Much to my surprise
Bert looks me straight in the eyes
And says Mike, I gotta question to ask ya
With Big Bird wrapped up in the trunk
You'd think that he'd already thunk
About this night long before it already happened
When we took Oscar the Grouches can lid
And whacked Big Bird smack dab in the head
Then tied him up tight while he was napping
We rolled him out to curb
Believe me it looked quite absurd
Ernie grunting with Bert complaining as feathers went flying
But as would be our fate
Able to make our planed escape
When Count Von Count took time out to do some feather counting
So this is now where we are
Bert, Ernie, Me, and Big Bird in the trunk of our car
Not really knowing where it is we are heading
Our thinking went only as far
As nabbing Big Bird and the get away car
Putting Ernie in charge wasn't such a good idea is what I am betting
Ernie says he's figured it all out
Bert says we need this, but still has his doubts
Cause Bert owes back pay alimony and Ernie his ******
We head to Ernie's planed drop off spot
And of course it's swarming with cops
While our inside man " The Monster " gave us up for Cookies
They let Big Bird out of the trunk
Who proceeded to slap us punch drunk
Then straight to the judge to pay for this hideous crime
I can't think of any worse fate
I now know this was a fatal mistake
The sentence...
Banished to Sesame Street for life, now that is hard time
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 7:41 PM UTC
The hot boiled rice
With brown gram curry
The nutty smell of sesame
Oil shrills in hurry
Deployed on a thrice
larger rounder plate
For a boy's belly deplete.
"Can't eat this much rice!"
He shouts with a surprise.
“You can do my son sure.",
Her firm voice enssures
The boys look measures.
"The remainder you keep aside"
Her remand saves his pride.
A monthly forty rupees
Should not be pretty reason
For a lodger's liberty to please
Among two of her teen sons
Than a welling spring of kindness
A heart huge in roundness
Larger than a stainless steel plate
With a profuse heap of hot rice
The smooth boiled brown pies
Oiled with fragrance fleet.
For how he fully did feat it?
How she purely predict it?
The stomach of a young one could hold
The heap of love on a stainless steel mold.
Dec 19, 2018
Dec 19, 2018 at 9:43 AM UTC
What man would buy me a ticket,
and into a cocoon where moss bites?
I would sting like bees on buds,
or ***** rushing to fertilize, create
an angel no other gentlemen touches
with white hair, eyes like sesame seeds:
she seems more attractive than the
woman he made love with, for certain.
Looks unnatural to swim in a pool
when a waterfall can pour ice onto his
head: just as viney-things drape me.
I am but a fair girl, have no color.
He could not love me beneath green,
there is no comparison, me and trees,
but he does, and I feel April will return
sooner and ruddier than anticipated.
May will bark like a dog: on my knees,
cradling children who hold vanities up to
my forehead, I boast a bellyful of bugs,
brick-hued and even with red stripes;
I think they must wear sweaters to bed.
How noble in our thirty-six months!
We cuddle baby slugs, not counting sap,
then burp their brothers, spout-mouths.
He is, in fact, the man that would do
the unthinkable grey-lipped love,
authors gather inspiration from and
snakes slip, spiders webbing shapes of:
cocoon with our metamorphosis in mind.
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 5:24 PM UTC
trap
contained
enclosed
unfree
looking for the door
the lever to push
the ropes to pull
open sesame
we are still here
until we choose to think our way out of the box
out of this box
here we will remain
in this
trap
trapped
Apr 26, 2010
Apr 26, 2010 at 8:36 AM UTC
Progress
by Michael R. Burch
There is no sense of urgency
at the local Burger King.
Birds and squirrels squabble outside
for the last scraps of autumn:
remnants of buns,
goopy pulps of dill pickles,
mucousy lettuce,
sesame seeds.
Inside, the workers all move
with the same très-glamorous lethargy,
conserving their energy, one assumes,
for more pressing endeavors: concerts and proms,
pep rallies, keg parties,
reruns of Jenny McCarthy on MTV.
The manager, as usual, is on the phone,
talking to her boyfriend.
She gently smiles,
brushing back wisps of insouciant hair,
ready for the cover of Glamour or Vogue.
Through her filmy white blouse
an indiscreet strap
suspends a lace cup
through which somehow the ****** still shows.
Progress, we guess, ...
and wait patiently in line,
hoping the Pokémons hold out.
NOTE: This poem is almost entirely fiction. There was a Pokemon craze when my son Jeremy was a little boy, and I did see birds and squirrels foraging in parking lots from time to time (and sometimes fed them myself from my car’s window), but everything else is fiction. On the rare occasions that I went to a Burger King, I would go through the drive-in, so I wouldn’t have known who the manager was, or how much time ***** spent on the phone. I think the poem probably started with the image of birds and squirrels squabbling for scraps of food in a parking lot as I waited in a line of slow-moving cars, then evolved as I imagined the hassle of going inside to “speed things up.” Keywords/Tags: America, Americana, American, culture, society, vanity, youth, progress, fast food, video games, Pokemon, MTV, music videos, glamour, models, supermodels, fashion, transparency, see-through, bra, breast, *******
Apr 30, 2020
Apr 30, 2020 at 9:43 PM UTC
I run into a forest with fudge and green frosting trees.
In there I find squirrels made of cheesecake grey sesame.
The acorns are made of candy hard root beer.
Twigs made of cinnamon to my feet adhere.
The ground has bunches of lime gummy grass.
I saw a rabbit of white chocolate run past.
The foot prints were of cocoa divine.
This forest is filled with deserts that seem mighty fine.
I come to a river filled blue raspberry jelly.
That will surely adhere to my belly.
What am I to do with all these treats?
Is it time to run or do I have time to stop and eat?
I see birds made of cookies and cream.
Is this a terrifying nightmare or a beautiful dream?
The snow falls powdered sugar flutters.
Whoops, stepped in droppings made of peanut butter.
Maybe from a chocolatey brown bear.
Just as tame as that white chocolate hare.
I guess I am getting out of here.
All the sugary stuff that will adhere.
Hopefully I do not attract those.
They are red hot fire ants near a cream filled rose.
Though I finally leave.
What just happened I could not believe.
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 5:59 PM UTC
Surya Lights the blazing candle in the sky
and our day begins
on a pillow of clouds my spirit
bows at His vast blue altar
In fact, gods, goddesses, earthlings
and all the inhabitants of the Cosmos
kneel and prostrate at His glorious, life giving Feet
Today Lord Surya ascends to His northernmost
temple in the heavens
Courtly tablas boom, traditional Indian trumpets blare
Sweet sticky aroma and flavors of
sesame and jaggery confection
overflow in banquet halls on earth and in Kailasa
Colorful kites, bits of starry confetti
drift downward from the celestial celebration
David and I, our hands folded in prayer
stand on the front lawn offering our salutations
to the Golden Lord
By Serendipitous good fortune, my brother Chris just happens
to pass by at this moment and stops to join
us in our Sun worship
Happy Makar Sankranti
May Surya Deva's auspicious saffron rays
bless you with Peace, Love and Prosperity
Jan 15, 2019
Jan 15, 2019 at 6:44 PM UTC
Hamburger Hell
Beefsteak Charlie says to Porky the Pig
I can see the party lights
someone's throwin' a bash and it sure looks big
down at the slaughter house tonight
say lets get together and hit the buffet
you might as well stuff yourself
they'll only throw it away
Old Colonel Sanders says to Elsie the Cow
golly baby you're the one
two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce,
pickel, cheese, onions on a sesame seed bun
say we just got time for a roll in the hay
might as well stuff yourself
they're here to take you away
I know where you're going, I can tell
don't go looking for me
down in Hamburger Hell
don't misunderstand me I wish you well
don't go looking for me
down in Hamburger Hell
lyrics by Todd Rundgren
Gomer LePoet...
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 10:45 PM UTC
I tear through your imagination, your fear to reveal you past with me, your flesh in spirit. You talk to me through prayers. I listen. All the pain is gone that was destroying you through life. I miss your smile. It’s like I closed my eyes and opened them and you were no longer there cuddling me. I am no longer running around in pampers, your little lightskinned girl who you loved. The girl you watched sesame street with I dropped to the floor as if there is an abyss. You were there through my needs and my wants. When you needed me the most I failed. I’ve always heard the term what is done in the dark will come to light. When you fleshed away in the dark it affected me in the light. Im sorry of my selfish ways. How could my love be so strong but yet so ignorant? I would give everything for you to be with me. Sometimes I just want to sit at night in the darkest hour and cry for you.
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 6:58 PM UTC
Well come on in and stay awhile,
got some ice tea, know your throats probably dry.
With all this weather , kind of been sitting around,
just feeding my face and putting on pounds.
So tonight I figured we'd better go light,
cook a little different and start eating ' right.'
So I've got me some Romaine lettuce washed in the pan,
got some rice in the cooker and a can of light spam.
We going to pan roast the spam in a little sesame oil
and then serve it in this lettuce and rice like a summer roll.
Course you can get as fancy as them chefs on TV,
but for now , well this is good enough for me.
Gonna join me?
Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 5:12 PM UTC
As I sat upon the dock’s edge, idly skimming the questionably clean water with my toes, I closed my eyes and opened my ears to eavesdrop on the birds chattering across the fen.
Were they conspicuously cawing the sought after secrets of the universe in a foreign tongue, swapping stories of the skyway, boasting of their knowledge as they choked down half-drowned worms, brooding over the offensive punch line we call truth?
Or were they casually chirping how healthy the sun is for their plumage, teasing the hen for her aerial shortcomings, sharing seeds of sesame, and politely asking the woodpecker to stop his work, if only for a moment?
In my stasis of thought, a leech writhed to the water’s surface with intention, and rudely hooked onto my big toe without even asking first.
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 10:48 PM UTC