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"sundae" poems
the lady has me temporarily off the bottle and now the pecker stands up better. however, things change overnight-- instead of listening to Shostakovich and Mozart through a smeared haze of smoke the nights change, new complexities: we drive to Baskin-Robbins, 31 flavors: Rocky Road, Bubble Gum, Apricot Ice, Strawberry Cheesecake, Chocolate Mint... we park outside and look at icecream people a very healthy and satisfied people, nary a potential suicide in sight (they probably even vote) and I tell her "what if the boys saw me go in there? suppose they find out I'm going in for a walnut peach sundae?" "come on, chicken," she laughs and we go in and stand with the icecream people. none of them are cursing or threatening the clerks. there seem to be no hangovers or grievances. I am alarmed at the placid and calm wave that flows about. I feel like a ***** in a beauty contest. we finally get our sundaes and sit in the car and eat them. I must admit they are quite good. a curious new world. (all my friends tell me I am looking better. "you're looking good, man, we thought you were going to die there for a while...") --those 4,500 dark nights, the jails, the hospitals... and later that night there is use for the pecker, use for love, and it is glorious, long and true, and afterwards we speak of easy things; our heads by the open window with the moonlight looking through, we sleep in each other's arms. the icecream people make me feel good, inside and out.
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195.8k
The Icecream People
Kailangan ko lang ilabas kasi nakita ko tong picture sa Facebook. Inaamin ko madalas sumasayad sa isip ko to. Sino ba naman ang hindi maiisip to kung marealize mo kung gaano ka kahelpless at powerless na baguhin ang paligid mo. Sino ba naman ang hindi makakaisip na baka may mas magandang lugar para sa ating lahat na kung saan masaya tayo. Yung feeling of guilt kung bakit ako nasa loob ng kotse, naka-aircon tapos may batang kakatok sa bintana mo at siya ay walang makain, tapos pag inabutan mo magsasabi padin ng "Thank you po.", sabay bibili ng sundae sa Mcdonald's. Tangina lang diba, kasi bata lang din sila at gusto nila maenjoy ang buhay. Tapos, magmaneho ka lang sa Quezon ave, may kakatok sa bintana mo humihingi pagkain or limos. Tingin ka sa Quiapo may mga matatandang nanlilimos, tapos, masayang masaya pagka binigyan mo ng pagkain, nakakaputangina. Nung nag Davao kami, yung mga nagbebenta ng perlas dun alam **** isang kahig isang tuka ang buhay nila, isang tingin mo lang alam **** sobrang hirap ng buhay. Nakakagago pala talaga ang pakiramdam ng pribelehiyo no? Kasi andun ka lang para mag lamyerda at gumastos ng madaming pera. Yung feeling na nagiinstagram ako ng walang kakwenta-kwentang bagay tapos may namamatay sa gutom sa ibang lugar, may naaabusong ofw sa middle east, yung mga nasa Mindanao napapagitnaan ng gulo. Yung nakikita **** sales lady sa SM na alam **** todo kayod para kumita ng pera sa Maynila pero tangina hindi nabibigyan ng tamang benepisyo at kontraktwal padin. Ang swerte ko. Ang sarap ng buhay ko. Sa sobrang sarap, napakaunfair na at nakakagago na dahil di ko din masabing ayaw ko ang buhay ko, pero ayaw ko din ang mga nakikita ko. Ang labo no? At bilang isang ordinaryong tao, wala kang magagawa para matulungan sila na maglalast sakanya. Hanggang abot ka lang ng barya kasi di mo pwede isacrifice sarili **** kapakanan para sa iba. Dahil ganun na ang mundo ngayon, sarili ko muna bago iba. Pero masisisi mo ba yung pagiisip na ganun kasi may kanya kanya tayong mga problema na dulot ng pagiging myembro ng society? Duwag tayong lahat. Duwag na tumulong sa abot ng makakaya natin kasi takot tayo na baka tayo naman ang mapunta sa ganung kalagayan kapag binigay natin ang lahat. Tulad ko, pasuicide suicide pa pero duwag akong gawin, hanggang sagi lang sa isip ko, tangina ko eh no? Dahil yung nakakatulong lang talaga yung may tunay na tapang. Katulad ni Mother Teresa ang daming tinulungan at inalagaan, pero ironic dahil nawala ang paniniwala nya sa Diyos dahil sa nakita nya nasobrang hirap na dinadanas ng mga taong inaalagaan nya. Putangina ng Mundo. Bakit ba tayo nandito? Pagtapos nito balik na ko sa normal. Tangina nyo.
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Mar 21, 2017
Mar 21, 2017 at 10:20 AM UTC
Putangina Ng Mundo
Kailangan ko lang ilabas kasi nakita ko tong picture sa Facebook. Inaamin ko madalas sumasayad sa isip ko to. Sino ba naman ang hindi maiisip to kung marealize mo kung gaano ka kahelpless at powerless na baguhin ang paligid mo. Sino ba naman ang hindi makakaisip na baka may mas magandang lugar para sa ating lahat na kung saan masaya tayo. Yung feeling of guilt kung bakit ako nasa loob ng kotse, naka-aircon tapos may batang kakatok sa bintana mo at siya ay walang makain, tapos pag inabutan mo magsasabi padin ng "Thank you po.", sabay bibili ng sundae sa Mcdonald's. Tangina lang diba, kasi bata lang din sila at gusto nila maenjoy ang buhay. Tapos, magmaneho ka lang sa Quezon ave, may kakatok sa bintana mo humihingi pagkain or limos. Tingin ka sa Quiapo may mga matatandang nanlilimos, tapos, masayang masaya pagka binigyan mo ng pagkain, nakakaputangina. Nung nag Davao kami, yung mga nagbebenta ng perlas dun alam **** isang kahig isang tuka ang buhay nila, isang tingin mo lang alam **** sobrang hirap ng buhay. Nakakagago pala talaga ang pakiramdam ng pribelehiyo no? Kasi andun ka lang para mag lamyerda at gumastos ng madaming pera. Yung feeling na nagiinstagram ako ng walang kakwenta-kwentang bagay tapos may namamatay sa gutom sa ibang lugar, may naaabusong ofw sa middle east, yung mga nasa Mindanao napapagitnaan ng gulo. Yung nakikita **** sales lady sa SM na alam **** todo kayod para kumita ng pera sa Maynila pero tangina hindi nabibigyan ng tamang benepisyo at kontraktwal padin. Ang swerte ko. Ang sarap ng buhay ko. Sa sobrang sarap, napakaunfair na at nakakagago na dahil di ko din masabing ayaw ko ang buhay ko, pero ayaw ko din ang mga nakikita ko. Ang labo no? At bilang isang ordinaryong tao, wala kang magagawa para matulungan sila na maglalast sakanya. Hanggang abot ka lang ng barya kasi di mo pwede isacrifice sarili **** kapakanan para sa iba. Dahil ganun na ang mundo ngayon, sarili ko muna bago iba. Pero masisisi mo ba yung pagiisip na ganun kasi may kanya kanya tayong mga problema na dulot ng pagiging myembro ng society? Duwag tayong lahat. Duwag na tumulong sa abot ng makakaya natin kasi takot tayo na baka tayo naman ang mapunta sa ganung kalagayan kapag binigay natin ang lahat. Tulad ko, pasuicide suicide pa pero duwag akong gawin, hanggang sagi lang sa isip ko, tangina ko eh no? Dahil yung nakakatulong lang talaga yung may tunay na tapang. Katulad ni Mother Teresa ang daming tinulungan at inalagaan, pero ironic dahil nawala ang paniniwala nya sa Diyos dahil sa nakita nya nasobrang hirap na dinadanas ng mga taong inaalagaan nya. Putangina ng Mundo. Bakit ba tayo nandito? Pagtapos nito balik na ko sa normal. Tangina nyo.
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1
The lady has me temporarily off the bottle and now the pecker stands up better. however, things change overnight-- instead of listening to Shostakovich and Mozart through a smeared haze of smoke the nights change, new complexities: we drive to Baskin-Robbins, 31 flavors: Rocky Road, Bubble Gum, Apricot Ice, Strawberry Cheesecake, Chocolate Mint... we park outside and look at icecream people a very healthy and satisfied people, nary a potential suicide in sight (they probably even vote) and I tell her "what if the boys saw me go in there? suppose they find out I'm going in for a walnut peach sundae?" "come on, chicken," she laughs and we go in and stand with the icecream people. none of them are cursing or threatening the clerks. there seem to be no hangovers or grievances. I am alarmed at the placid and calm wave that flows about. I feel like a ***** in a beauty contest. we finally get our sundaes and sit in the car and eat them. I must admit they are quite good. a curious new world. (all my friends tell me I am looking better. "you're looking good, man, we thought you were going to die there for a while...") --those 4,500 dark nights, the jails, the hospitals... and later that night there is use for the pecker, use for love, and it is glorious, long and true, and afterwards we speak of easy things; our heads by the open window with the moonlight looking through, we sleep in each other's arms. the icecream people make me feel good, inside and out.
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Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 5:31 PM UTC
The Icecream People
the tiles that encompass me are falling like dominos this is blackness at its zenith and I have a coneful lucky me it’s like the summer of ‘96 all over again and my friend’s dad jumped in front of a coal train we ate ice cream that day in the dank Minnesotan heat everyone was dripping the mosquitoes were flocking in green cloud *ignite flame ignite* and the crunch of bones like this water falling on my shoulders *wash wash again* the sticky syrup from my chin and poor Dane’s pants smell and there is **** pooling at his ankles enjoy this chocolate-dipped cone or possibly this one with patriotic sprinkles no I think I’ll pass I’m watching my ten-year-old figure you see this paunch? it is my heart it is so fat and ugly take it from me, god enjoy it on top of your sundae I always looked better red-chested anyway
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Aug 13, 2016
Aug 13, 2016 at 5:14 PM UTC
dairy queen
for Alyssa Underwood ~~~ my poems do not trend, go viral, Fast and Furious! yet, they do not die they lay in plain sight pebbles scattered, smoothed by time, upon the surface of the green earth waiting patient, virtuous, purposed for itinerants bards to trip over one one some someday somehow they accrete a readership, slow stepping and steady from, |the seekers and the stumblers, the droplet drinkers, meanderers of the tomes and tombs of prior years, miners for nuggets in the poem pools that form beneath the alluvial streaming of the waterfall crescendo of words I like this when another traveler sends me a like, a petite amuse-bouche bite of appreciation, for a long ago, barely recalled, writ, allowing them to carve their initials upon the external, visible roots of my tree trunk, invading me, by darkening a prior tree internal ring, forcing me to look down, look back, take measure of myself, accepting myself as not wanting, nor lacking in other's acceptance these statements are neither boastful or illusory, *yet still joyous, like caramel pleasures, slow to chew, fast to the taste,* reminding me of old friendships, well valued, though no longer fully employed, their uncovering is my own refreshed exposure, their discovery is my own re-discovery, exposing flaws and fallacies, even fallow, mostly shallow facts about me all of them, a sundae of truths and lies, sharing a happy laugh with and at me, when I think to myself, Holy Crap! did I write that? copyright 2015 by Nat Lipstadt
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Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 3:35 PM UTC
2015: my poems do not trend
for Alyssa Underwood ~~~ my poems do not trend, go viral, Fast and Furious! yet, they do not die they lay in plain sight pebbles scattered, smoothed by time, upon the surface of the green earth waiting patient, virtuous, purposed for itinerants bards to trip over one one some someday somehow they accrete a readership, slow stepping and steady from, |the seekers and the stumblers, the droplet drinkers, meanderers of the tomes and tombs of prior years, miners for nuggets in the poem pools that form beneath the alluvial streaming of the waterfall crescendo of words I like this when another traveler sends me a like, a petite amuse-bouche bite of appreciation, for a long ago, barely recalled, writ, allowing them to carve their initials upon the external, visible roots of my tree trunk, invading me, by darkening a prior tree internal ring, forcing me to look down, look back, take measure of myself, accepting myself as not wanting, nor lacking in other's acceptance these statements are neither boastful or illusory, *yet still joyous, like caramel pleasures, slow to chew, fast to the taste,* reminding me of old friendships, well valued, though no longer fully employed, their uncovering is my own refreshed exposure, their discovery is my own re-discovery, exposing flaws and fallacies, even fallow, mostly shallow facts about me all of them, a sundae of truths and lies, sharing a happy laugh with and at me, when I think to myself, Holy Crap! did I write that? copyright 2015 by Nat Lipstadt
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52
We went down to the ice cream parlor.My friends had a sundae, I had a banana split. I watched them make it. There were many layers. First, the ice cream, yum! Vanilla,chocolate, and strawberry.Next, is the banana,layed on the top, very peacefully. Then was the chocolate syrup! And next was the whipped cream! Finally the cherry. it was the best banana split I will always remember!
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Sep 1, 2010
Sep 1, 2010 at 5:33 PM UTC
The Banana Split
ICE COOL TREAT FREEZE CREAM FOR SUMMER SUNDAE sweet cold r i p
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Jul 6, 2013
Jul 6, 2013 at 3:43 PM UTC
Ice Cream
There is this woman with stringy brown hair Blue polka-dotted shirt, the same one Head droops down The weight of melancholy stampedes her to near-death. She hardly holds herself up straight She barely looks me in the eyes, she is shamed Every time, she is paler and paler Every time, gets the same comfort treat, maybe this will help this time Maybe, This time. Chocolate peanut butter flavor with hot fudge and whipped cream I am the only one who notices her slight shaking.. Fiending? Needing? $4.61, please I am the only one who notices the scars on her arms. "Thank you, have a good day." And I am frightened that one of them will soon be her last. I am frightened because I want to save everyone But I can't. It's like throwing starfish into the sea, one by one Still seeing the shore still filled with them. Everyone around me is drowning and they pull my hair down with them.
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Aug 20, 2010
Aug 20, 2010 at 9:16 AM UTC
ice cream sundae
Mercy, Almighty King; Though arteries be congealing, America's going a'mealing.
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Jun 15, 2012
Jun 15, 2012 at 1:08 PM UTC
Bacon Sundae
Pancakes - Pie - Apple - Green - Malfoy - Snake - Mother - Upstairs - Refrigerator - Computer - Refrigerator - Computer - Hunger - Refrigerator - Homework - Computer - Sigh - Mouse - Rodent - Weasel - Ron Weasley - Red - Cherry - Sundae - Hunger - Pancakes. © 3/16/13
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Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 3:21 PM UTC
Noun Circle Poem -- Pancakes
Happiness is a pink bed that always welcomes you home. When life seems rough, you go to your bed and it all feels okay. Your bed is the relaxation you need after a stress filled day. Dreams are always joyful when dreamt on a debian-red bed. When all is well, your bed is the cherry on top of your sundae. Happiness fills your soul when jumping on a pink fluffy bed.
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Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 8:33 PM UTC
Metaphor Poem - Happiness is a Pink Bed
the waves roar, toes cuddle the sand and the shoreline invites legs with licks of salty breaths. in and out, the tide sighs while tiny tourists glide on sail boats in the distance. and ice cold coke, and you. the sea purrs, the sun begins to set along the dusty horizon. laughter becomes muffled and the sand now naked, stripped of umbrellas, leaving behind only foot prints. a half-melted strawberry sundae, and you.
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Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 11:40 PM UTC
salty summer
I've been dreaming a lot lately Quite literally And my dreams tell me stories That I'm trying to decipher I dreamt that I had brain cancer That I'd be dead in a year And I didn't tell my mother Nor a thought to my father Not even my closest friend All I wanted was a caramel sundae From Dairy Queen That's all I wanted Because why not? I was to die anyway So I guess I found out that I should eat that caramel sundae every time I get the chance, because someday I won't be here to eat it.
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Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 11:26 PM UTC
Caramel Sundae
i love sunday gotta love sunday just love the sun and the day but nothing comes between sunny day or sundae? am i right? i can rest in peace and my hands with ease because today is sunday today's the day sunday it is. rest day today. tomorrow should be sunday. but that means today is not sunday. so what would rather sunday be? if sunday isn't the day of today? so rest your mind and touch the sky because today's sunday.
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Jul 5, 2020
Jul 5, 2020 at 2:31 AM UTC
i love sunday
A thought about our recent ****** The oddly mean-spirited transgender Who was a sort of dressed, but not very Was the adorning maraschino cherry Strange on a delicate ice cream sundae Like which I melted early morning Monday
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Mar 23, 2010
Mar 23, 2010 at 4:31 PM UTC
Rescue Mission
I didn’t tell you how my world shattered. No matter... it was over... my castle battered. Angels prayed no difference made           Separate ways taken for both our sake Visceral pain reigned heaving chest... ... one year counseling relief and rest          **Time heals…     Blessings count** Children! Our love legacy. Once with eager glee close to wedded bliss We smiled... shared a hot fudge sundae And topped it with a kiss.
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Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 3:17 AM UTC
Afterthought
I'm quite taken with you. You're the apple of my eye. Like a chocolate fudge sundae on a Friday night, You're as sweet as pumpkin pie, But my teeth are prone to cavities. I dare not take a bite.
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Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 12:21 AM UTC
Sweetness
This is Almost all. Cereal. 12 bites chocolate koala crispies Chris along with some horizon fat-free organic milk but again 12 bytes. Short stack flapjacks Safeway maple syrup drenching it. Patrick's IRA send it One hot fudge sundae from McDonald's one half bite of hot fudge. Six bytes of salsa recipe. Four microwaved Chinese potstickers Some HighC orange lovers I also ate Mark's soup 25 Cheetos Xcessive? I also ate some of my accent. One can Wolfgang Puck used as a base added some roasted breast chopped roughly 2 wings scanner on onion red rock refrigerator did an onion rings tile cut. Think I know I'm sorry sweetie they are kind.
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May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 12:50 AM UTC
What Chloe ate for Mayday 2014
When we decided on ice cream I suggested caramel sticky sweet dripping down the sides I wanted to lick it up and feel the sucrose explode on my tastebuds a minefield of pleasure. When we decided on ice cream you promised whipped topping and hot fudge rich luscious chocolate oozing toward the edges swirls of dark intensity intermixed with bouts of airy lightness a most delightful contradiction. With all the imagery that’s found in words and pictures bound to play out in my head It’s fair to say this sundae tempted me at waking hours (and maybe even crept into my dreams) … it’s quite a shame that in the end you settled for vanilla.
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Jun 21, 2013
Jun 21, 2013 at 11:26 PM UTC
June 21, 2013 - Last Year's Ice Cream Social
I liked you Yesterday, I'll like you Tomorrow, I like you Today, I'll like you Day after day Even after every Sundae, I'll like you From every New year Through Every leap year, From time To time I'll keep Liking you, Because hey, What's not to like About you? I like you Even if you don't Like yourself, I like you Even if you don't Like me, But I really really Love you... APAD13 - 108 © okpoet
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May 3, 2013
May 3, 2013 at 4:08 PM UTC
Like...
i feel like a shredded jigsaw puzzle the unsolvable rubik's cube abstract art by the picasso of melancholy who couldnt find a way out of his blue period melted ice cream sundae and cherry sitting forgotten rotting on hot summer concrete the common man of the cubicle would eat people like me for dinner and he would enjoy it too with his overly happy son and his overly happy wife and his overly happy purebred golden trophy dog i sit at the middle of the table the eye of attention and stuffed by an apple to keep me shut and they stare at me ready to tear me apart and for dressing tonight they will eat my tears cover me in blankets and lay me down in bed i will slip away for the night and in the morning hopefully i will be a step closer to completed
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May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 9:39 PM UTC
a step closer to completed
I drove dad’s Chevy for the first time one Sunday morning In a storm. His old, blue, dented, beat-up, ninety-seven Chevy. In a storm! Who would have even let me take control Of this two-ton machine on a sunny day, when The raindrops didn’t cover the windshield like a blanket, And the wipers actually helped to push them aside? When I couldn’t see my scared reflection in the puddles on the road? When the worn down tires had traction on the asphalt? I was going thirteen in a thirty-five, and the Old woman behind me honked her horn at me To the tune of a song abundant with cursing. My heart was beating at the speed of the piston’s pumping, And my knuckles were white on the wheel Like little snow-capped mountains. I was inches from the wheel, and I looked over the windshield Like a kid at an ice cream store, only My eyes were not filled with hope for a Rocky road sundae. Dad, on the other hand, Was as calm as the patter of the rain on the sunroof; Relaxed as the trees in their suburban backyards. I guess it all goes to show you How much faith my father has in me. Or, How stupid and stubborn he can be sometimes. But aren’t those really just the same things?
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Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 8:58 PM UTC
Rocky Road Sunday
Honey. 12 bites chocolate koala crispies Chris along with some horizon fat-free organic milk but again 12 bytes. Short stack flapjacks Safeway maple syrup drenching it. Patrick's IRA send it 1 hot fudge sundae from McDonald's. 1/2 bite of hot fudge 4 bites soft serve. 6 bytes of salsa recipe. 4 microwaved Chinese potstickers some HighC orange lovers I create Mark's suit. 1 can Wolfgang Puck used as a base added some chicken ******* roasted chopped roughly Spoon cut. 2 wings 25 Cheetos Xcessive? I also ate my accent. Scan him some onion red rock ringed Reiterate Beings tile cut. Think I know I'm sorry sweetie they are kind Of sinking.
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May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 1:06 AM UTC
Freed Fried Pried Tribed
I think of August: strawberry sundae cups and squash blossoms.
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Nov 8, 2011
Nov 8, 2011 at 10:38 PM UTC
When I'm cold,
Coming home from the mass, body stretches became endless no hurried showers were done some returned to bed, everything was on a slow pace....but then, kitchen aromas roused sluggish senses, revealed garlic and onion sauteing, beef stewing, stuffed fish grilling, even the smell of parched soil, being sprinkled with water...became fragrant... all rushed to the table...for lunch... .............................................. dessert, was a choice...nothing...or, slices of pie..fresh strawberries dipped in condensed milk...peanuts, sour chips, or salty tortillas, with salsa, all these, over loud talks...whispers, wholesome family conversations, where endings are ever unpredictable ............................................... each Sunday carries a different mood ...with cups of tea, or coffee, when discussions are serious, long, hushed... most times, they're a tall glass of sundae, with shaved ice, sago, sweetened yam, or, beans, milk, and sugar........ decisions made, and agreed upon are the multi colored toppings, pretty much like syrup.....or ice cream... ................................................... seven days.....with different names... each family member brings in a new shade we do our best, to start, and end each day ................with pleasant airs .................especially on Sundays, ......when families gather together... .................................................. Sally Copyright March 26, 2017 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
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Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 9:02 PM UTC
Sunday