Best Spoonfuls Poems


'twas the Night

‘Twas the night before Christmas and I didn’t care;
I had dozens of latkes I had to prepare.
The menorah was ready, with candles to light,
Waiting there by the window, a wonderful sight.

The presents were wrapped and I lined up the dreidels;
The soup was a’bubble, with floating knaidels.
The applesauce waited to chill in the fridge
In a Chanukah bowl. (Yes, I tasted a smidge.)

The cookies were baked like my grandmother taught,
(So much better than any that anyone bought)
Shaped like candles and dreidels and six-sided stars;
There were plenty to fill cookie platters and jars.

When I suddenly sensed there was something the matter.
I raced to the kitchen – the oil was a’splatter!
For while I was fixing the festive display,
I should have been frying (not quite my forte).

The first batch of latkes was burnt to a crisp
And smoke filled the kitchen (much more than a wisp),
But tying my apron for take number two,
I ditched all the burnt ones and knew what to do.

I lowered the flame and reheated some oil,
Plopping spoonfuls of batter I wouldn’t let spoil.
Then I conjured my childhood and Chanukahs past,
When I had no idea years would fly by so fast.

And I pictured my nana and grandma, as well
As my parents, my grandfathers and Aunt Sydelle
And my brothers and sister and cousins galore
And my uncles and aunts I’ve not mentioned before.

While my latkes were frying, so crispy and gold,
I remembered how Chanukah used to unfold,
When we played with our dreidels and gathered our gelt,
In our family’s embrace and the love we all felt.

So I cooked the new latkes with patience and care,
Knowing that with my kids and my grandkids I’d share
All the pent-up emotions I’ve hidden inside
With a platter of latkes, now perfectly fried.

And to all who will celebrate Chanukah time,
I do hope there’s a lesson for you in this rhyme – 
For the very-best feelings our childhoods instill,
Through traditions, our hearts and our bellies will fill.

										December 7, 2022
Categories: spoonfuls, chanukah,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Sugar Daddy - Two Lenses

Childhood Days

I’d heap spoonfuls of sugar in my tea
I wouldn’t drink it without it you see
That sweet syrupy drink
Wasn’t poured down the sink
Every single drop was supped up by me!


Adulthood

Dad’s diabetes made me think -
Did I need to sweeten my drink
So I cut sugar out
And I don’t have a doubt
I’m slimmer and I’m in the pink

Contest: Two Lenses
Sponsor Sara Kendrick
02~20~16
Categories: spoonfuls, father daughter, health, humorous,
Form: Limerick

Premium Member What a Wonderful World

Blink if the title drew your eyes in

See, the breadth of our human functionality
Sparks interest
Curiosity

Thankfully, no evil kitty cats were killed because of it.

But, humanity continues its descent.

We live in a world of blasphemous sacrifices
Judgmental stares
And vicarious living

A world where identities are being kidnapped
Assaulted
By ill-defined pronouns and verbs from
Blogger’s egotistical delight

Yet, we crave to be free & think for ourselves.

We used to live in a world where “boys” never expressed their emotions
Yet, today, they are criticized for mansplaining
But, beg us to be a dictator in the sheets

Oh, the lust of hypocrisy’s tongue knows
No bounds
Pre-emptive screams, the only “logical” sound
As critical loudmouths burn off pounds
Of social media dislikes
While they stare at their obese internal sadness

…

We live in a world
Where love is defined by what humanity’s online profile
Shows on their Relationship Status
Not the private memories
Not the personal moments
The less we share online, the less we care offline!

Everybody wants to know about everybody else
In order to forget about themselves

Insecurities abound,
Another red herring in their chilled soup
They dance with spoonfuls of illegitimate intimacy
Spinning their self-declarations round robin 
But, refuse to dip into change

We used to live in a world 
Where it was a penny for their thoughts
Now it costs a life when the mind is spoken

So, I think to myself…

©D.J.E.
Categories: spoonfuls, life, people, perspective,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member A Spoonful of Snow

Big things in small packages, so goes the phrase
       And astounding, a spoonful of snow, in such ways

A thousand frost miracles, and identical, none
       Innumerable prisms making rainbows from sun

Each with its detail of wonders, unique
       Chilled to perfection to tickle your cheek ...

Spoonfuls, that if balled, are fun to be flung
       Pleasurably melted when placed on your tongue

Just enough snow for a friend, I would think
       To get their attention, or cool down a drink

Limpid complexities with formations, fine
       Chiseled by a physical process, divine ...

Jewels from the heavens as winter clouds weep
       The crystalline tears of a season's cold creep

Transparent and clear, and cleaving the light
       Yet bundled together, the whitest of white

Like so much we see, they're plain at-a-glance
       Yet examined up-close, are sure to entrance

   So ...

Maybe there's a lesson that we can thus learn
       To look at each OTHER more closely, in turn

For the inestimable qualities surfaces hide
       And the precious complexion of what is INSIDE

By remembering always, wherever we go
       The amazement and magic in a spoonful ...

   Of snow.






~ 1st Place ~  in the "Christmas Rhymes" Poetry Contest, Kim Rodrigues, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories: spoonfuls, appreciation, imagery, snow, winter,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Robotic Floating

She is opaque, at best she is vague,
living in a state of robotic floating.
She wonders if she could borrow emotion
from those whose moods are overflowing.

She feels fake, a skilled adult impostor
constantly fostering a false decorum.
Her life stirs in seasons of autumn
but her grown up has yet to blossom.

Her sleep is a vacation from immune, 
dreaming in deep, emotive grooves.
Her awake is in a concrete room
where neutral moods never move.

She wonders when life withdrew
and she assumed an isolated cocoon. 
She still sips life in small spoonfuls
that she chases with hope subdued.





... CayCay
February 4, 2017
Categories: spoonfuls, angst, character, depression, identity,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Living, Upended

walled isolation
     when a relationship hits hurdles
     gripped by the unfamiliar 
     a stillness that caves in on us

our small spoonfuls of conversation lack direction 
      closed pod, defensive
my near muted pleas to break free of holding back
      for nothing good brews in brooding

sucker punch of speculation 
      health shifting
      the enemy, a diagnosis
      to map variables, unknowable 

our dreams having no scale
de-stabilized by no surety of self
     we hide behind silence like a well placed curtain
     balancing on slippery rock sickness
                              life altering

words perishable
    numbing
a fall-to-pieces stillness
    like a windowless white room that traps the urge
                                                                           to breath





Poem composed: October 31, 2021
Categories: spoonfuls, change, conflict, health, life,
Form: Free verse


Premium Member A Haunting Spot

Pearl
rapids
steam cascade 
haunting  canvass 
a red dawn smoulder 
to prise sluggish eyelids 
of zestful bright mood  riser 
who gulps in  rapt awestruck spoonfuls 
of mosaic zone enthralled  enclave 
awash with random sun drenched blue pool plops 
Where giddy children cast green hue pebbles
 as dulcet birds tweet from gaunt elm twigs
and rainbow trouts skim silver streams
wet grass clumps sag on mud banks
a grey fleck morning haze
that scene shift migrant
a spring usher’s
mint leaf scent
in faint,
gust
Categories: spoonfuls, beautiful, beauty, environment, feelings,
Form: Etheree

Premium Member Dreaming of Creamsicle

Dreaming of creamsicle
vanilla and orange swirls
My tongue is swimming,
diving into the delectable
spoonfuls of tangoing 
flavors of joy-bursting “ahh.”
Better yet - creamsicle milkshake,
that goes straight to the mind
with “oohs” and “ahhs.”
It’s only a dream. A tribute.
Only one spoonful -
it, sits on my tongue,
cold and dangerous,
then the current takes it in
like a sin. Sinful not
to lavish one bite.

10/11/2022
Categories: spoonfuls, food,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Heavy Tumbling Story

HEAVY TUMBLING STORY

Before forbidden words
dawn to confess
Come... Come.. C O M E...
Uncoil your taste-buds to me
Entrust you health fully to thee

Yours truly,
FOOD
___________________________________

Enamored beyond possible reproach
I opened my mouth for crumbs of tasty
Crumbs later become spoonfuls
Spoonfuls turned to one, two, three plateful

Appetite feast in crescendo of daily treats
Boosting my body: front and rear - pound per pound
My clothes then groan: a cri de couer

Yet, desirous mouth craved for more and more
Eating up to the crust and core of everything
Months passed, Bigger! BIGGER, I come to be.

'Til even walking and standing, I can't do
My room - my only day and night intimate boo
My children, I robbed tardily of their joys
As their focus and attention divided by two

Fats stored everywhere on my bod
Gradually they are killing me - stealing my breaths
An oxygen via prongs must be on beside to help me breathe
My back an archipelago of aching ulcer...

Comestibles become my sweetest agony
Breaking me and my dignity so gently 
Obesity then my heavy tumbling story... 
__________________________________________________
Food Can't Live with it can't live without it - Poetry Contest
Sponsor	Debbie Guzzi
~~~1st Place~~~
©Olive Eloisa Guillermo
10:51pm, Oct. 17, 2014
Categories: spoonfuls, abuse, addiction, body, food,
Form: Narrative

Tour of Duty

"Tour of Duty"

go forth and conquer
go forth and multiply
we are taught like 
good little madams, 
it’s fed to us right
(not left) from the get go 
down our throats, 
it’s ingrained 
in the majority of us,
then, rank and file,
off we go, deligently 
we march towards
that evocative thing promised,
Love calls us keenly,
Love calls us softly,
Love like communion,
green gardens wild daisies
crowns worn like halos,
loves me, loves me not,
loves me not, loves me, 
planted and naively bedded, 
we dance that dance, 
into the seductive arms 
of faith and chance, a wanton war 
romancing our womanhood, 
we roll over like puppies 
our upturned faces 
and stomachs stroked, 
being fed red apples
like simpletons in a 
moist ripe bed of roses,
sprinkled with the holy water
of keeping the win for keepsakes
framed and parked on a wall
like stag horns, momentos 
of a past well worn,
our competitive 
strip poker smiling faces
the blue ribbons adorned
and mounted like 
miss congeniality,
good girls
wagging tails, 
then feeding 
children spoonfuls
of honey,
to do it all 
over again

obedience 
only lasts so
long

so long 
tours of duties
so long

good girls
take notes

(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Categories: spoonfuls, love, muse, women,
Form: Narrative

Deliverance

"Deliverance"

The Road 
leads us 
down 
cause ways 
in our worst dreams
we never dreamt

once the course set
there is no turning back
detours buy us some time
for a very short while 
the course for us
my dear, already set

hiccups conquered
over, like roadkill bumps
lessons spoken from lips
the motherload mind speaks
offering spoonfuls of sugar 
sincerely, we are driven 
to deliver

(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Categories: spoonfuls, muse,
Form: Narrative

Premium Member I Take Mine Black

I never understood
when I was a kid
what it was with adults
and coffee.
It was, "Would you like some?"
"Won't you stay for some?"
"How do you like yours?"
"What brand is that?"
"Did you get a good price?"
and, "Oh, this is really good!"

It was maddening to me,
and I just wanted to say,
"Shut up and drink your
g--damned coffee!
It is just the same that
you drank yesterday,
and probably,
a week ago, Sunday!

But now I understand
and youth may be excused
the value of a shared cup
when everything is going
wrong, or the value
of precisely thirteen spoonfuls
everyday, when that was all
you could count on, or
the value of gift to someone else,
when that was all you had
to give, or just the 
remembrance of those times
when all this was true
brought back by
the smell and taste
of a cup of coffee.
Categories: spoonfuls, introspection
Form: Free verse

Who Do You Think I Am

birth, devotion, how i feel, little sister, mirror, mother, together,

Who do you think I am - Poetry Contest

Birthed special as twins
From a shared womb
We were made to feel special!

My twin was first to let go
 She broke our love knot
 Hurrying to her new freedom!

She waited for me crying
Until I was laid alongside her
In an identical pink warming blanket!

It was my turn to be crying now
Her abandoned cry made silent
Knowing I was with her there!

Inseparables we grew to become as before
Our new home was very 'safe' for two
Twins were to be an indulged oddity then!

So alike and special side by side
We were coveted and blessed
These babies who came from one womb!

We were cherished and adored
Always up in arms side by side
And fed  together with spoonfuls of love!

Our sibling sister did follow soon
But shared her blankets alone
She was ‘loved’ for being only one!

We thought her an intruder
She was the star, sun and moon
And selfishly pocket our time-shares!

We needn’t have walked as early as her
We were up 'in arms' for show and tell
And only spoke in our secret tongues!


We were still twins but so spoiled 
She walked and talked much earlier
And she was quick to spark on her own!


She learnt survival tools to get on with life 
Our security was faulted built out of smoke
Dissipating at its  now 'mired' core! 

We were on our own and naked
Our identity apart was thin
Time came to us late in hard knocks!

A twin is  only birthed as one 
Apart and special on its own
Each born to make its own identity!

Twins will be together after death
When their love knot again is twined
And two twinned hands clasp once more!
Categories: spoonfuls, birth, devotion, how i
Form: Verse

Winds Over the City

Daylight
   and one hundred thousand 
individuals arise,
   face the sun 
and hurry to their respective 
           work environments
Their lives are measured in 
                                 small spoonfuls
  This morning winds 
                        caress the city
cooling down the dwellers there
   We do not care 
that our eyes have been
      exposed to the light 
Those windows of our souls 
        see the reality 
        we face 
         everyday
Daylight, 
        The fierce winds are blosing 
    Leave sorrows to others
Feel the rawness of the day
in the marrow of your bones 
I am sure peace will come
   to you 
if you hold fast 
to your commitments
Categories: spoonfuls, nature,
Form: Blank verse

Premium Member Saver

Let me tell you a story
Many years ago I bought a puppy
Displayed at the street corner for sale
Caged alone under the sun, hungry and frail.

When the street vendor handed him to me
He licked my hands, wagged his tail happily
He ate three bananas in my basket
Poor pup unfed for long hours, I bet.

I brought him to my boarding house to stay
But my landlady didn’t like dogs- to my dismay
She asked me to keep him outside
But kids stoned him for fun, he didn’t hide.

I attended his head’s bleeding wounds
While cringing in pain with whining sounds
I put bandages then named him Saver
To be my hero at times of danger.

Saver grew up brave and smart on my lap
He knew who’d hurt him when he was a pup
He’d loved and enjoyed his weekend-bath
Tooth brush, fur-paws scrub with nails' cut.

But he was food poisoned at playground twice
He came home dying, I was vet in disguise
Giving him three spoonfuls of sugar
I'd revived him with my loving power.

He was my faithful body guard at night
He accompanied me without fright
At stores and pay-phone calls outside
He never left me…always at my side.

One day, I came home from work
And propelled to a barbeque stand at the park
I felt someone holding my shoulder from the back
Oh my!  It was him standing! He rocked.

Then, time came to leave my country
I couldn’t take him, I was so sorry
I entrusted him to my friend and her family
But he died after a year waiting for me.


April 21,2022      10.10pm



Theme: pets




The true story of my dog when I worked at the city. Saver died 2008. I requested somebody to make a figurine that exactly looks like him. It’s now displayed at our living room in my birth place.
This is my 2nd poem tribute for Saver. 

Form N - Narrative - New Poems
Contest Judged:  4/27/2022 1:42:00 PM
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Place: 1
© Len Gasun  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: spoonfuls, dog,
Form: Narrative
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