deli meats and cheeses
i look past them at soft crinkling smiling faces


and i drink my java
warms up my hands and ******* and i sweat
in my coat


walking up and down the isles

I see trail mix
and sunchips

and sweet sweet sweets
the yummies

that i adore

chocolates
especially

dark chocolate cocoa orange cherry strawberry berry red brown

it's the sweetness and saltiness
of summer time ice cream

It's the cold crispness
of carrots and snap peas

It's the warmth and comfort
of big muffins and a plate of hashbrowns
at Perkin's
after a stressful morning



spice smells
of pad tai noodles


sourdough bread, fresh baked
crunch crunch on the outside
soft hot squish
inside
(save that part for me, i eat them separate
-you laugh)

how many times did we
laugh
about how you ate that bug
and we were never picky



cherries
all those cherries.





we ate nutella
on bread,

washed it down with cold organic orange juice
from a cafe neither of us had ever heard of

and tofu
tofu tofu

always cooked perfectly (we wondered how they do it)
(i still don't know)

chocolate, melting slowly

"you missed some."

-------just an excuse to kiss me.
i giggle


peanut m&m;'s

turn my tongue colors.

Watermelon at a potluck
wedding cake
cheesy potatoes
and an extra helping of bread
(we laughed so hard at the white bread, squished into a cube)

ruby red
made you wince

I drink it straight from the bottle
and smile

remembering every kiss
that tasted of grapefruit
in that tent

every kiss that tasted of salt
from the eggs?
or from the sweat on your lips

the sweat on your lips.

we kiss more
i smile into your lips
i remember that, especially

we never got sick of each other
nutella on everything, now.
especially on s'mores


i smile with every memory




i put my hands in pockets, the cold rushes to meet my face
in the ice cream aisle

i cool down as i graze
through the tubs or corn syrup and double churned triple churned
cream with extra fudge

sherbet

i chuckle to myself


memories memories
of sitting up high
with you,

sand on our toes
chocolate caramel fudge coffee
on our tongues

love

in our hearts


you remember.

the taste of that summer

I'm surprised we're having a picnic on the east wing!
Our company almost never gives us anything!
Underpaid with no benefits makes this picnic even better
To think I was going to give in my resignation letter

With so many hamburgers, hot dogs, and more,
It's a fast food restaurant galore!
A table packed full with yummies.
Today, a lot of beef will be in tummies.

People reaching for their plates
The caterers come out of their waits
One by one, they serve each voracious goer
For a pay that probably couldn't get any lower

Janice comes, with her broken polish and nails
And a scream a joy echos out like whales
She's so drunk, oh my god haha she's so wired
It's the unpaid overtime or another threat of being fired

Poor thing... we finish our girl talk
and problems on my mind, I begin to walk
Feeling my appetite begin to poke me,
I bite into my hamburger with resounding glee

Nipping the bread, it's fluff presses against my lips
I close my eyes, as my senses go in dips
The precious aroma of divine baked bread
As my tongue and bun are set to wed.

Each bud met with delicious waters of steak
The ketchup creating a dreamy, saucy lake
Scrumptious, delicious
Incredible, nutritious...?

It doesn't matter, I've met my goal
And the taste, goodness it makes my mind roll
Forgetting everything while I finish the rest
Golly, this food is the best

You were always
an early bird, and I wasn't,
but my favorite thing was
to stumble out of my slumber
and hungrily look at my phone for a text saying
wake up
to which I would hurriedly respond,
though three hours later,
and you knew I would,
so as soon as I did as you predicted
you would command me to
drive the less-than-ten-minutes to your apartment
so you could cook me some
breakfast,
and we could get lost in each other.

You made me eggs and bacon
and always a biscuit with my choice of topping,
and you'd put on whatever CD we
currently found relevant,
that one time I know it was Ne-Yo,
and I chomped on my plate full of yummies
so cheerily
as you made me listen so closely to
lyrics you knew I would
just
get.

10 AM and I was somehow
thrilled to be out of bed,
enjoying the way the sun peeked behind the clouds
and stroked my cheek
as we shared a smoke on your porch.

You were the kinda guy that
made me like mornings,
that made me
feel the weight of the words in songs,
that made me appreciate art
and notice how pink
the sunset was,
that made me want to read the newspaper
so I could pick your brain and
pay attention in class so I could
tell you what I learned,
that made my world brighter
and my burdens lighter.

You were you and
you made me a certain kinda me and
**** do I sometimes still wanna
wake up
and eat some eggs while you
tell me your dreams and
your stereo plays.

ROLL UP, ROLL UP - WELCOME TO THE BIG TOP PARK  
From the 6th diary entry of Stewy Lemmon's childhood adventures.  
 
Holidays were almost here again, and Mum and Dad loved to take us all to our favourite caravan park called Rolling River Retreat, where all of our friends from past years would once again be there with their families.  
 
My Dad made our very own caravan by hand, painted with artistic flair and built (of course) in his unusually built and outrageously painted, backyard, out back shed. It was such a sight for all of the people that drove past us in their cars, on our way to our holiday retreat.  
 
All our friends from the caravan park retreat, also thought our colourful caravan looked such a treat, that many of them phoned mum and dad and told them about the surprise for us kids once we arrived at the retreat. They had all decided this year; they too would have something cool looking and really neat at the retreat.  
 
Are we there yet, we would ask again and again, then after a little longer us kids fell asleep. We were then awoken by the sound of BomBom BomBom BomBom, and then we knew we were crossing the last old bridge from the nearby town and into the big and top park of all time. It was a very old and bumpy bridge and we all knew its sound.  
 
As we were crossing the old Rolling River Bridge, we noticed the water level was much higher than usual, and moving ever so fast. The locals had told us when we had to refuel the car that the rain hadn't stopped coming down for weeks and weeks. They also said that today the sun was finally coming out from behind those dark clouds and hopefully now it wouldn't be so bleak.  
 
So lucky for us and all of our friends, that we picked our holiday time when the sun decided to peak. As we rolled up to the world's top caravan park, we were all welcomed by the always friendly, park manager Andy and his wife Cindy. He had been the manager there for twenty-three years, and my Dad also knew Andy from when he was a child.  
 
We then saw our friends, with a smile on their dials and so loud with great cheer, when the Lemmon's had finally arrived. There was our great Spanish friend Pablo, who we would call Poppa Pablo, and who loved his various and very tamed pets. There was old senior, Jay Walken the Lolly shop owner, and the very funny musical brothers Anastasia and Houllio from Mexico.  
 
We saw Johnny "The Greek Carpenter" and his son Stevie, also Andy's old pen-pal friend, Joel from Texas, USA. We were allowed to call him, Cowboy Tex. he was walking with a slight shuffle, while wearing a huge 10 gallon hat. Last to see us was my favourite grown up friend, Marko. He would do magical tricks for us every year and his wife Louise and their son Jacob, who was studying architecture. It's something to do with drawings or designs, I think.  
 
They all gave us hugs and high fives, and said, now come with us, for you will all be in for a real treat. We turned the corner and there they all were. The old looking caravans of previous years, had all been cleverly painted with great  character and artistic flair.  
 
Poppa Pablo, who loved animals, painted his caravan to look like a zoo. The old senior, Jay Walken (the Candyman) painted his, to look like a van full of lollies. The funny Mexican, musical brothers Anastasia and Houllio, had painted a bunch of colourful and zany looking Mexican clowns, playing all of their favourite instruments. Which included, drums, trumpets, harmonicas and guitars on the side of their van. Johnny "The Greek Carpenter" and his son Stevie, decided to paint shapes, houses, hammers, nails and ladders of course. Marko, Louise and their son Jacob, had a very futuristic designed van with rabbits, hats, juggling *****, a box and a saw and a cleaver trap-door. All had been designed with precision and at very clever angles, that's for sure.  
 
The last caravan we saw was extra long, for it was Cowboy Tex's, and he even had a van for his pony named, Bubski. Cowboy Tex had painted his in Red, White and Blue and in the middle a large star from Texas, where else.  
 
That night we went to bed early after such a long trip, for tomorrow we were all going on a drive and having a picnic lunch in the local mountains and then into town at night to see the travelling circus.  
 
In the morning, we all made our way in convoy, towards the old and bumpy Rolling River Bridge. But it had been closed overnight by the police, because of the rain and the damage it had made. Dad spoke to the local policeman, who said, the bad weather had taken its toll, on the old bumpy bridge and it had damaged a few large poles.  
 
We all went back to our holiday park and started to unpack. All of the childre were very upset, because, they had missed out on seeing the circus. Then, my Dad and his friends had a long talk, while sitting together around the campfire. They were trying to figure out, what they could do, to cheer up the children.  
 
Meanwhile, the kids decided to spend the rest of the day in the Rolling River Retreat's, games room. After chatting and playing, for quite awhile, we heard all sorts of noises,coming from outside. But my Mum told us, don't worry, just keep having fun and talking together.  
 
Later that afternoon, we heard someone yelling out,'Roll up, Roll up, Welcome to the Big Top Park'. We all rushed outside, but couldn't believe what we were seeing. The circus, had somehow, come to our park.  
 
We all started walking, towards the funny clowns who were falling down. There was even a Candy shop selling all sorts of yummies, like fairy floss, lollies and even teeth candy.  
 
We all took our seats at the front, and started listening to the funny clowns, playing a musical beat. Then a big voice shouted out loud, let's all thank the parents and friends for bringing the circus straight to you. After a while, we realised it was my Dad. He was introducing all of the performers, who would entertain us, in style.  
 
The funny clowns playing the musical instruments and falling down were the brothers, Anastasia and Houllio, and the man serving candy was none other than, the old senior Mr Jay Walken, of course.  
 
The show was starting, and the first act was, Poppa Pablo with his variety of animals. His Great Dane named, Duke, was jumping and rolling all about, his orange cat called, Tabby, was boxing with some hanging *****. His Guinea Pig called, Pauly was whizzing around through plastic pipes, and so much more. Then his little yellow baby duck named, Dina was following Pablo, wherever he went.  
 
Poppa Pablo, then grabbed Smoochy from me, and put him on a large See-Saw. He then got his Great Dane named, Duke stand on the other end. 'Whisssshhhhh, I wasn't here', Smoochy seemed to yell out, but I was ready for him. Luckily, he landed in straight in my top left-hand side pocket.  
 
Next act, was dancing from my two, much older, identical twin sisters Emma and Jemma. I found them rather boring, so I yelled out, ' next act please'.  
 
Even my Mum, Flo was giving it a go. She had held in a large bowl, my favourite fruit snacks. Then, all of a sudden, she tossed an apple into the air, then straight after that, a whole banana went up. She then grabbed an orange, that's three at a time, wow, she was juggling her fruit, real fine. It was something, I have never ever, seen done before, I hope they don't fall!  
 
The funny clown brothers, then asked the audience, for a hand. I put up Lemmy's hand and Smoochy's as well. They put Lemmy in a very small homemade car, then following behind was, Pablo's orange cat, named,Tabby, and then his Guinea Pig called, Pauly. All looking so relaxed, in a car, each of their own.  
 
At the front of the cars was, Cowboy Tex and his faithful Polish pony named, Bubski. All of the cars had been hooked up, near the back of his tail. Around and around, they did two laps, as they sat quietly.  
 
The last act of the night was, Marko the Magician and his assistant Louise. He performed some wonderful tricks, and even pulled a cute rat, out of a top hat. I then yelled out, 'wait a sec!', I think that's my best friend, and new grouse pet mouse, Smoochy.  
 
Then, my sister Emma, was introduced into this part of the show. She stood in one of the two boxes, set up on stage, and with a black cloth, Marko, then covered the front of her body. With the magical words of "getoutofheregooverthere", and in a flash of an eye, she quickly reappeared, in no time at all. But in the other wooden box, that was so far away. Wow, Marko is the best magician, I have ever seen. I wanted to know, the secret of that trick, but he didn't even give me a clue.  
 
At the end of the night, Andy the friendly park manager, got on the microphone and said, 'can we all please applaud, these wonderful acts'. Starting with, Archie Lemmon, Johnny "The Greek Carpenter" and his son Stevie for building and painting the circus arena. Also, Jacob for the stage design and forcarefully planning all that.  
 
Wow, what a great night had by all, but, I don't think Smoochy, will ever talk to me again. Mainly, because it was me, who put up his hand, for that very scary circus, high flying act.

CASHEW NUTS EATEN, BY AN OPEN FIRE
It's air in motion, the sound too soft to the ears and appealing to the senses.
The air so crisp, dust-filled and ice cold
The moon-lit skies, looking like the red night goblin was about to shower bars of chocolate and descend with his wrapped toys.
Some sweet jazz christmas music was playing in the background, Nat King Cole for sure.
From the old turntable came the music. Well mixed with the breeze thus presenting a never-before heard rendition of the song playing.
Once again the breeze blew heavily.
Trying to have its way with the open fire, burning some metres away from the large hut.
Earlier in the week, the cold North East wind had brought along some wild fire.
One happy family was sitting around the fire.
A man in turban and his wife with their handsome boy and cute little girl.
All dressed in warm woolly glittering sweaters and thick trousers.
They were all engrossed in what the father of the house was saying. And almost forgetting the wild fire had made them homeless. They had to settle for the large abandoned hut.
In between, they seemed to be chewing something.
Of course roasted nuts from cashew in a flat plate. All they had left to eat.
Father downing some fairly warm wine as he spoke.
He was telling them tales/legends of christmas and santa from all over the world.
Even the chewing horse relaxing next to the family, was enjoying the story-telling session.
Father closed his story book.
Together the whole family made and sang a remix of 'the christmas song' replacing the first line with 'Cashew nuts, eaten by an open fire'
Half way through the song.
They heard a loud bang close to their hut, something had landed in front of their  hut.
It was a large box filled with swiss chocolate, other yummies, gifts for the whole family and most of all,  a map telling them about a place of hope along the West.
On the right-hand side of the box was a large label with the words 'From Santa with love'.
The family, now relieved from the sudden heart-pounding sound and excited by the arrival of the gifts, cheerfully and gratefully started their song all over. This time it sounded like a 'reprise/outro' to an epic album.
This was the night before christmas and Harmattan just got serious.
Happy Christmas!

Home alone with yummies
and no one to share them with
Leaving emotions
Scattered, mixed and undefined
Like a box of Sad Crayons
Weeping wax tears of magenta and cerulean
Lamenting over their broken and dulled state
Lying randomly piled in an old shoe box
Their vanity peeled away
Longing for lines to stay inside.

-

feathered smudges like a floor spatter from
Jackson Pollard covered the lanes underneath
an old L&N railroad overpass where flocks
of pigeons used to **** from above

tiny pellets were sprinkled along the
rail banks & eager beaks pushed aside
large stones to pick out these "yummies"
which slid easily down the throat
causing vacant, fixed pupils

it is about thirteen foot-six inches from
the bottom of the bridge to the street,
hundreds of detached eyes looked
aimlessly from the pavement
for a sky to rise in

motorists rolled up the windows as they
approached for a finishing pass, hoping
maybe they would all eventually wash
away with the rains

i see a morning dove landing on my
porch railing, it's tiny black lenses
zooming into me through the window

causing me to think if maybe there is
a talon or a couple of small bones
embedded tread-wise into my tire

a vision now manifests some
thirteen foot, six inches away—

all those
                  eyes...


s jones
2009-2021


.

Alas! Nomenclature deviated.
Now, for exploitations.
Phew! Whenever I recall
The emergence of rosary and tesibiu
That makes the Oracle beads
Lose fist in the days,
I summoned pause to my tears.
Fine chaffs have cover our eyes
That all we sight is good but lies
Jesus is beautiful, Mohammed is strong
Hmmmn! Devil is ugly and weak?
Luther king dream I reveried
Marxism: archived in my cafe
Have and have not classes
Religion: ***** of the masses
Trauma flows in the atheists' blood:
There is no God but fate

Oh! Our priests in robe
Covering their heads with load of scarfs
A self torment to the brain.
Their beards touched their chests
While their trousers fight
3rd world war with the ground
As they open ajar their mouths
To chant alhamdulilah recitations
For saka and yummies beckon.
Is that what Mohammed taught them?
Oh! Our Priests in lucre suits
Yet, their protrude bellies peep through,
Heaving high and low
Like that of the narrow escaper.
Mouthach of Herbert Macaulay
Curved like a bow wield.
Halleluyah starts their incantations
Their lips released the splits,
''Dance to the front
As you drop your offering and donations,
Sow big so that God can bless you like David''.
And we gullible oaf sow in their basket.
How many candles have they told us to buy,
It is to solve your qualms
Or bring stable electricity to Nigeria.
Who are they emulating! Christ?

They are allies to the fiend
Politicians in disguise
We build that school
That we can't afford the price.
Our pennies bought them wings to fly
While we crawl on our knee
Struggling to get d ruins
That fall from their tables.
They rollick on our sweat
Forgetting the horse that ride them thirst
Though, we are the bunch of ignoramus.
But the Holy books they carried
Shall fall them to their grave
If they don't stop enterprising...