"wasabi" poems
Call yourself a friend of mine,
Forcing me to “neck” beer and wine?
Lovingly mixed with ***** and gin,
And dash of ketchup added in,
Wasabi for that extra kick -
The whole thing just makes me sick!
It’s not fun or cool or clever,
But a study in peer pressure,
Present in the world we live in,
Where for a guy or girl to “give in”,
Is expected for their reputation.
But what kind of expectation,
Is encouraged sado-masochism?
A concept likely to cause a schism,
For those who didn’t use their head,
And unsurprisingly now are dead.
I am sure as you will surely see,
And the poet Dylan would agree,
That as long as you ignore
The deaths of one, two three and four
How many, many, many more,
Are needed til we scream and cry?
“We caused too many youths to die!”
And for what cause? Acceptance.
Whose loss is needed for our repentance?
It’s all well acting free and wild,
But each of us is someone’s child -
Whose loss would surely cause sadness,
Hurt and pain and grief and madness?
And stomaching death is much harder
Than soap or dirt or grease or lard or
Whatever miscellaneous things
This activity inevitably brings.
Just saying “no” might make you quiver
But trust me; it’s better for your liver -
And living x years sans hurt or maim
Is worth > than 15 minutes of fame.
So do the maths before you do it -
Or else I bet you’ll likely rue it!
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 10:34 AM UTC
Across the Nation's Prize I say Hello
And Tradition's Tie breaks to meet my Friend
You decide to either say Yes or No
Whichever it is this is not the End
I'm sure glad you enjoyed your Meals to date
Both Horseradish and Wasabi do pair
Now this Hour's Best Time to roast a Steak
Such Great Leisure the Mad Chef can't declare
Now before you leave for Wimbledon's Match
Make sure your Bag is empty from your fill
Obey, and Stony Halites fail to latch
Then you enjoy the Kingdom's Biggest Thrill.
I know not much, with Time and Place obsessed
Least I can share which Merry Face is best.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 7:09 PM UTC
Being weird is important to me. I find it's a gift because it means that you are different than everyone else. I know I am weird because not very many 9th girls have my hairstyle. I say weird things. Instead of saying, what's up, I say "wasabi". I tell corny jokes. I'm weird because I like hugs and not very many teenagers like hugs. I'm weird because I eat olives and sunflower seeds, for snack. I'm weird because I believe in fairy tales characters like mermaids, fairies and unicorns though people tell me that they're not real. I'm weird because I'd rather read a good book than watch T.V. I'm weird because I have at least 20 nerd glasses and 5 snap backs. There are so many ways to be weird. I'm the weirdest person I know so I'll use myself as an example.
I know I'm weird because not very many girls have dreads at 14 years old. I also say weird things. Instead of "what's up? "I saying "wasabi". I also tell corny jokes that I know aren't funny like, what did the penguin say when his friend asked "why did you slap me? ! " He said, ¨I didn't slap you, I high fived your face." It's not all that funny is it ….Thats why its weird to say it.
I'm weird because I like to give hugs to show someone I care, but others only do that with boyfriends and girlfriends. A ****** like me might have a fairytale land of their own, where fairies, mermaids and unicorns live. I have a fairytale land of my own, full of candy canes and gumdrops, fairies, mermaids and unicorns. I have a black unicorn with a green and neon yellow horn, green tail, and a neon yellow mane. His name is Lucky. His favorite snack is Skittles and, his favorite food is graham crackers. His favorite drink is strawberry milk. We have dinner under my tree full of hearts. I'm weird because all that I just said is childish, but I don't care.
A ****** like me might rather read a good book than watch television. A ****** like me might have twenty pair of nerd glasses and five snapbacks. A ****** like me might not wear dresses, skirts, or shorts. A ****** like me might write books and poems.A ****** like me might fall on purpose to make someone laugh. A ****** like me might like school. A ****** like me might stare into space without noticing. I do this five times a week for at least two minutes; weird right. A ****** like me may dance, sing, or look up at the sky randomly without knowing. I'm me and you're you. I'm not you and you're not me. So, please don't judge weirdo's for being who they are because they're gonna be them and you're gonna be you because that's how its suppose to be. So how weird are you? I bet it is not weirder than me.
May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 10:53 AM UTC
I am an onion
Hiding behind all my layers.
I stand in the rain
Eating wasabi
Cutting tiny pieces of myself.
I hide behind all my layers
So no one knows if or why I am crying
Because, as an onion,
I am not the one who's supposed to cry.
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 11:51 AM UTC
the server (waiter) raps
praise upon the sushi,
its integrity,
the harmonic
of its construct,
the curated singularity of
each rice grain
the innate elegance of
the thin sliced,
nearly translucent,
au naturel, organic,
ginger root
the skin smooth paste of
green wasabi,
grown naturally
along stream beds in
mountain river valleys in Japan
genuinely puzzled,
when he,
the old erstwhile poet
unabashedly weeps before all
no hero he,
just an overcome one,
his tears flavoring his food
mourning the
celebrated abuse
of his verbal children,
those natured nurtured babes
the stuff,
the words of his definition
each weird word,
loved for their cultured,
unique quality of their history
grown in languages's
perpetual petri dish
asked if something was a matter,
answered yes,
"this plated performance,
such an extravagant essay
on the beauteous wonder
of life's bounty,
left me wordless"
and she, burst out loud in laughter
Aug 12, 2017
Aug 12, 2017 at 8:03 AM UTC
Intestines twisted into a bow
Skeleton, no skin, all bone
Chased into a grave
By someone "brave"
Head cut off, and hung at the hips
Mouth sewn shut, wires in the lips
Promised a voice
In a place of just "noise"
Ears forced down into the pharnyx
Tongue cut off, and swallowed
Chained to the dark
Left with a "spark"
Wasabi poured into each eye
Needles poked into the iris, to dry
Breathing fractured breaths
In the times of "stress"
Fingers shredded in blenders
Toes were sold by the vendors
Broke the rules
To be reduced to mere "molecules"
Heart frozen in ice
Lungs cracked in slices with a knife
Crawling towards a light
Dipped in "fright"
Genitalia, mutilated
Thighs and chest burned til it was disseminated
Walking into the darkness
Trying to reach the "conconscious"
Frigida glacies
Oct 23, 2019
Oct 23, 2019 at 1:25 PM UTC
O my little darling,
let’s drop by the coffee shop,
we'll have a quick hot-brew.
There's nothing like
a mug of strong Colombian!
Then we can head over to Kyoto’s,
we'll have some platters of delicious-sushi.
I really love the sashimi.
There's nothing like eating spicy raw-fish
coated with that fiery-hot wasabi!
Hey you girl,
I don’t want to sound too pushy,
but it’s getting kind of late,
let’s head over to my place,
we'll mix up
a couple of slow screwdrivers.
There's nothing like
those tasty midnight cocktails,
I love sipping them,
especially with you.
O you’re my prefect date,
so scrumptious,
so true,
I think I love you!
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 10:06 AM UTC
Last night I went to a jazz concert
and I bought an eight dollar jar of cocktail nuts
during intermission
from which I only ate
the few wasabi peas I managed to pick out
in the dim of the theater.
I thought about you
and then my thoughts were interrupted
by trumpets and saxophones,
and I wished it could always be that easy.
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 11:09 PM UTC
I’m nothing but ink
I’m bleached pulp dyed blue and red
Recyclable
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 2:37 PM UTC
You remind me of a spicy wasabi mango
Just like ice cream covered in lobster shells.
So hard and spicy on the outside.
So soft. So sweet on your inside.
I really want to ask you if you had a good day.
Longing to be the good of your day.
We are not different.
We are not the same.
Do you ever muse on how tight we..... could be.
Conceptualize a wasabi mango embrace.
And see in your minds eye...........
it's only you and me.
-Jennifer DeAngelo
Copyrighted 2016
Aug 25, 2016
Aug 25, 2016 at 10:33 PM UTC
I'm not going to be a teenage wasteland forever
Someday I'm going to stop polluting my body and hating my mother
I have an addiction to those
toxic remedies
like hair dye
nutmeg
and bleach.
I'll be taking calcium supplements
for dwindling marow
and for once I'll actually care about politics.
Daddy had a habit of calling me a
super-feminist
just because I wouldn't bring him his slippers
when he got home
from retrieving the mail.
I've always hated dogs in the house
so I became vegetarian.
My subscription to Cosmopolitan has long
been expired.
Instead I stick my fingers inbetween the crevices
of the fan
There's a secret to resentment:
Hang it up in the closet
on the hanger
next to the apron.
It's wanting to pour wasabi down pants
so they feel the kick
so they can hear
Aug 11, 2013
Aug 11, 2013 at 4:10 PM UTC
Little girl, your deepest fears have
Nothing on me.
Speak to me of your angst;
It's a miniscule bug to my foot.
Our pathetic misunderstandings
Are egos fighting the memories of
Each other in themselves.
Love is ***** and diamonds.
I love you prematurely when I
Sense spring on your
Skin. It turns me on beyond myself.
So let's just argue,
If that makes you feel as alive as you
Should beneath the hands of my
Unshared attention.
Little girl, your fears have nothing
On me.
I eat insecurity like sushi, wasabi
Memories of idiots telling you
You were never meant to write or
Be written of.
Grab yesterdays with the sticks of
Now-man's hands
And toss them over your shoulder
Like salt after some you spilled.
Your deepest fear is as shallow
As a puddle.
I've shouldered ten times your
Weight, without love.
Watch me now.
You need not set a foot.
I carry you like the sky its stars.
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 8:37 PM UTC
What do I mean by that? Why is it a favorite mantra? How does wasabi differ from other hot sauces? First, this is a metaphor for feelings and how we deal with them; or we do not deal with them out of fear.
Most hot sauces or hot food has a tendency to keep being hot on your mouth for a very long time, even after you are done eating. The mouth is a place not only for food but expression. Some people can stand and like heat in their mouths, some can't. For some it is thrilling and exciting, for some it is a dreaded thing, something to be avoided at most any cost. That dread stands in front of any willingness to try something new. Fear of a heat you cannot get rid of.....sigh...
Ever feel like your feelings are going to consume you if you let them breath? Ever had hurt so deep you were afraid to let it out for fear it would take over? Ever think you cannot handle another second of pain? Had your very breath be of nothing but hurt? Do you know of what I speak of? Fear of letting yourself feel for fear it will be too much.
Hot food is like that. But the more I spend time in healing, working with my shaman, and working on myself I am finding everything to be of 'wasabi'.
Wasabi is a hot food item unlike most other hot foods. Its heat and intensity is 5 times that of other hot flavors,IMHO. You think it will consume you and your head is going to literally explode with this sensation that is unlike any other. You really think its going to sting you forever and you get scared...and after a deep breath or two it is gone. The heat, the explosion that was so all consuming to me the minute before, nay..seconds before..is gone! How can this be?
How can what I feared so much be so easy to transcend? Oye! I feared the old fasioned hot. I feared the old way of feeling things. The old agony, the old hurts, the pain I thought I could never outlive-. <---that is my old hot sauce.
Now life is all wasabi. I know it is going to be extreme to jump into. It is going to test my threshold of what I can tolerate. But I know when I take a bite, no matter how big..it has a short life span. It is not going to consume me, take over, or last forever. Diving into myself has never been so hot;) but I like the heat of challenging my old thought patterns, beliefs, and self limiting concepts.
Wasabi rules ;)
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 9:26 PM UTC
Boris was very good here
Peaches are mean cannibals
Wasabi rainbow
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 1:49 AM UTC
Don't give me that
Smack me with a brick
before you flash that
Colgate smile
Take your eager flight
to your far off place
and leave me to
my sugar coated
shards of glass.
{Flight Departing At: 9:30AM}
Remember when we would sing
to the radio
and laugh because
we didn't
know
the lyrics?
{baggage}
or the time
{security}
{Take off shoes. Remove Belt}
you cried
in my bed?
{How many bags are you checking in today?}
we both got so
sunburned once
you had the imprint of your
tank-top
on your back and
I thought my
nose
would fall off
{Flight Itinerary}
{Drivers License}
we rushed through
sushi
and I accidentally ate
too much wasabi
{Is anyone sitting there?}
awkwardly held on to each other
on top of that concrete sculpture of a
cat
or was it a
pig?
{Airplane Mode}
ran to the
beach and climbed that really uncomfortable rock?
{sleep}
I was so
content
next to
you
{Silence}
{Fasten seat belts}
{Baggage claim}
there was a time when we made each other
happy.
you had to move.
All the way to good Ol' North Carolina.
It was a
chance we took.
What we had was only temporary
A looming date.
At some point
@ some airport in San Francisco
you would leave
me
at 9:30AM.
{gone with the clouds}
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 8:03 PM UTC
As the line between our private lives,
& the public eye blurs,
all the old paradigms dissolve,
& nothing becomes as it was before,
only a few months more,
to get this riddle solved,
feeling like The Batman The Joker,
& Lois Lane all rolled in one,
my new name is Nigiri,
on a roll hot like wasabi,
my threads are all designer,
& my hobbies are all hobbies,
I am definitely not sure at all,
well at least definitely not probably,
babbling’ with talking heads,
while jousting with the walking dead,
because we’re up right now up right now,
that's right the life of the party,
& you all probably already know all this,
because the whole time was Live recording,
Instagram Live Streaming all the time,
I'm dreaming at the same time touring,
every moment recorded,
even when it's not at all important,
off script but don't trip,
because we're still part of the program,
so before I even wake up,
you already know the whole thing,
you already know what happened,
the night before the morning,
the Knight Before The Mourning,
sounds a bit prolific & prophetic,
at least a little bit don’t you think,
but what’s it matter the least little bit, if no one takes the time to think,
they’re just getting their nails done,
in the salon in the bottom of the boat,
as it sinks & we just think,
“Well I hope at least the lifeboat floats”,
in a bit of a panic,
like Leo in the Titanic,
searching for my romantic Winslet,
before we both sink in this disaster,
see I see you drowning in this sea,
& I still love you even after everything,
so I swim over & my hand I outreach,
hoping you'll grab hold before you sink,
so I can backstroke with you on my back,
& swim us both to an island beach,
specifically Leo's island,
you know the one Blackadore Caye,
he actually asked me to run the island,
said it was just a bunch of palm trees,
& I know this is reality,
even though it all feels like a dream,
so I close my eyes pray for better times,
then open my eyes to focus & blink,
blink,
blink,
blink,
blink,
the camera is always on,
the recording is always running,
this is layer cake no this is pound cake,
no this is the first ring around the onion,
onions in the sink,
got my eyes running made me think,
turned the water off got a wash cloth,
then took a moment to blink,
blink,
blink,
blink,
blink,
as the line between our private lives,
& the public eye blurs,
all the old paradigms dissolve,
& nothing becomes as it was before,
only a few months more,
to get this riddle solved,
feeling like The Batman The Joker,
& Lois Lane all rolled in one,
∆ LaLux ∆
from The Sydney Sessions
the follow up from multiple # best selling author Aaron Lux
new book available for FREE here: https://www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps
Dec 13, 2017
Dec 13, 2017 at 10:37 PM UTC
Bulbous eyes and gaping mouth see splayed flesh
Served on rice with wasabi, bodies naked and fresh
Bash my glass brimming with koi fish swimming
"Am I WINNING?!" he screamed so drunk on saki, a wok he'd
Swept off the counter, I floundered
And so spying asked "Why are you crying?"
Because the waitress with plaited hair quit last week?
Because you're short on rent and you're all out of drink?
Well so am I PUT ME BACK IN THE WATER!
The fodder that expects me to
Always look pretty.
Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 5:21 PM UTC
Her wasabi breath,
snake venom injected crow's feet
& chain smoking reflex could
scare a country into prohibition.
Enough ****** power and spine behind
every word to ******* the
male populous into a plethora
of soggy invertebrates.
Barnacle encrusted spinach weave,
obsidian void lip stick she squeezed
off a bat's back
& a Columbian waltz she stole
from a putrid little beasty
all mixed up & spit into a murky
cocktail glass wearing high heels.
You could feel the atmosphere tickle
a bit when she raised a brow at
You.
That silky whisper of a voice
was just an illusionist prelude
to the thundering brass of her
ringing enthusiasm.
She was the most powerful being.
A lioness among the flock of sheep.
A droplet of viscous mercury
in an oil spill.
Raw.
Sharp.
Lethal.
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 10:21 PM UTC
she’s sweet like wasabi
and wicked like cinnamon.
she sleeps alone and she lives alone,
but she has the trees and the dirt and the birds,
so she isn’t really alone.
there’s ivy vining its way up her legs,
and cobwebs collecting around her chest,
but she holds hope like an amulet,
like someday someone will brush them away.
breathing isn't always easy for her
because she still carries the moon in her chest,
so she's got a heartbeat like a hex.
she’ll spider her way into your heart,
but before you know it she’ll disappear.
she’ll be here as long as she can,
but she’s dangerously human.
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 12:47 AM UTC
Tongue scalded by coffee I am finally
awake today. When the sun’s kisses burn my skin,
and I am finding a new threshold for this. This flint
spark where it outshines the moon at the dead
of night. Lost in the forest, trudging thoughts through
woods where luminescence is nonexistent. A gas tank
explodes in the middle of the city. See now how my mind
trudge thoughts of light? Heat? Pain?
Thundering through my cranium like mad dogs barking,
this is summer. Summer, where heat dilutes my vision.
I am awakened. The sands crept to our feet as it replicates
each of its curves, took their body heat and turned
everything to Mexico. Jalapeno lips, I make them quiver.
Quiver like tasting a spoonful of wasabi. Quiver your name
to the sound of the hottest song on air. Pretending
it was some ice to cool off my scalded tongue.
See how I am trudging? Because this had to be
enough to make my mind a rustle piece of abstract, visions
flint spark, when you near me, pressed
your palm against my shoulder. And I swear
that was when
I felt warmth
for the very first
time.
Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 2:01 PM UTC
.*a six day span, which included five fatal stabbings... even around here, some black kid came from south London... was stabbed on the street which i walk at night, just outside of the Collier Row roundabout... as i walked past the spot one night... i said out-loud: sweet dreams, little ************
but there was this other incident,
a man decided to walk with a knife...
so?
he could buy a lemon, peel it,
and place sushi on it...
how else wold you eat sushi,
if not placed on a slice of raw lemon,
sitting at the roundabout,
on a bench, during the night?!
so the man sees this chubby white
girl running...
then some skinny black guy running
after her...
the man is sitting there,
in perfect public scrutiny peeling
the lemon and cutting a slice
before putting a sushi piece on it,
with soy sauce, pickled ginger
and a decent smear of wasabi...
the man looks up at the unfolding
confrontation...
he sees that the girl is pointing
at him and shouting at the guy chasing
her to look at me...
with headphones in his ears...
he notices a change of dynamic...
the guy chasing the girl starts to run
in the opposite direction...
the girl ends up getting the bus home...
yeah... weird **** like that happens
to me...
it's not like carry a knife
on my every day...
just the days when i feel like eating
sushi on a slice of raw lemon,
in public;
how else? raw salmon works well
with cucumbers, dill and some mayo...
but in sushi form,
you need the lemon bite.
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 1:55 PM UTC
I hide my giant eyes from cartoons
From cuties, a grin that of a baboon
A flimsy fellow in mighty ferocious words
Summon my self-proclaimed ridicule hoards!
Never have I ever had a single flaw
Struck you with my silver cyber claw
My dreams of growth with a single shroom
All trapped inside my dark veiled room
Why, if it isn't Kurinar
Adored by one and all
Tough claim, tough claim that's not for me, that concrete tangible platinum call
I lost my case pleading for white space
To a noodler for a mother and her husband with a cold shoulder
And sister with doe a deer, horns and posthaste feet and a bunny-rabbit for a face
This hunger grew into a grief
To the deaths it pulled me right to the grave
This once brave heart now succumb to unbelief
Why, if it isn't--it isn't myself anymore
Now behold!
Before you, force-polished, self-blessed floors of pure imitation gold
A freshly-baked sugarcoat matched with my favored wasabi berry float
All on a table set before what seems to be too unfair welcomed by a cool breeze but stabbed by a sizzling stake at your rear.
Why, if it isn't Kurinar
Son of the sweeper superstar
Why, pity to this horrible lad
Destroyed then forced into a wheat facade.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 10:57 AM UTC
N'awlins babe with
a pretty flower-tat,
seared tuna & sesame,
a dab of wasabi,
club soda & lime,
lily pads & gators.
That's where it's at,
my happy hour
down here,
somewhere.
Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 5:59 PM UTC
We go to the mall,
She has me try on a bra,
She asks me what cup size I am,
"10 I guess, that's my shoe size"
We laugh and the store clerk looks bewildered,
We leave empty handed but our minds filled with memories,
We feed each other sushi,
Seeing who can handle the most wasabi sauce on one sushi roll,
We laugh as we chug green tea,
The store owners look mortified,
But are pleased by the huge tip,
I lead her to a shoe store where we find the best fitting shoe of the opposition gender,
She laughs as I try to walk in stilettos,
She just wears sneakers,
I break them,
We pay the owner and don't keep them,
I had fun today,
I think she did too her eyes tell me all.
Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 1:14 AM UTC