Cereal Bowls
When cereal bowls in
the kitchen cupboards get
deeply sexually aroused they
go up in
flames.
Marianne Moore lawn 'BOWLS'
O O
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~all that is gleaned seldom shines as rusted is the brass bowl~
7/25/22
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022
Hear the clatter
of the dark blue bowls
see how nicely
they infold inside each other
So much like you and I
my endless Latin lover.
Would you like a bowl of magical soup? Only ten dollars.
Ten dollars is a lot! What is in it?
I dare not divulge its secret ingredients. Only ten dollars.
Ten dollars is a bunch of money. What will I get?
For ten dollars this soup will make you smile, maybe laugh.
That is it?
It will also heal your heart, and aid in remembering good memories.
For only ten dollars? That is so cheap!
You are right. The price is now fifty dollars for a bowl of magical soup.
For a bowl of soup?
Yes.
Fifty dollars is a lot. What else will it give me?
It will heal all of your diseases.
Even diabetes?
Especially diabetes.
For only Fifty dollars? You should charge more.
Okay sir. Five hundred dollars for a bowl of magical soup.
I will take two bowls.
That will be one thousand dollars please.
In the midst of the angels arose
Smoke of incense from golden bowls
Scent of perfume so sweet
Drifting around the throne seat
Seat of the Lamb who was slain
Forgiving, loving
For His death
Who is not to be blamed
What is the meaning of the golden bowls
From which the sweet perfume of incense arose
The answer is written in Revelation 5:8
The prayers of the saints is what it states
Whether alive or met our fate
God hears, keeps our prayers
Pray, it is never too late
Pray for loved ones, enemies, leaders on earth
Even for those who have not yet seen birth
For God remembers prayers for they have worth
Prayers of praise, thanks, sadness, weeping
Prayers are forever in safe keeping
When death has come and taken us away
Our prayers in the golden bowls will stay
written June 16, 2017
With a thin and outstretched arm,
eyes agape with none it stares,
drained of all but a beating heart,
she hopes a farthing unsure to come,
Her hands are empty, her tummy complains,
worries soon washed aside when it rains,
she rushes under the bridge she calls home,
but slaps and shouts send her back out,
Drenched and delirious, she's hoping again,
against the great odds of a heavy rain,
fate kind this once, she gets her some bread,
and thereafter deemed to have earned her bed,
But time and sleep cannot quench hunger,
and she wakes and roams till it is supper,
empty bowls and harsh reality once more greet her,
she goes back to sleep and dream of dinner.
When a mallet strikes a crystal bowl
It causes vibrations to penetrate the mind and enter the spirit
A magical power that
wipes away worry and pain
as mystic vibes touch the soul - enlightening as well as healing
The Buddha nature is in us all
as we strive for the truths we need
Let the sounds carry you to a place
Where fear and anxiety do not exist
Where all sounds blend into one sound
Om
It never seemed enough when Mom got done
with popping our best snack food; since our goal
was not to miss the shows, how fast we'd run
during the commercials to refill each bowl!
An oldie
For L. Milton Hankins' YOUR BEST FOUR-LINE LIGHT VERSE, NO. 2 Poetry Contest
Sir Francis Drake was playing bowls
One day upon The Hoe,
And when the Spanish fleet appeared
He didn’t want to know.
He calmly finished playing bowls
(We don’t know if he won),
But then he fought and proved his skill,
The Spanish on the run.
*The Hoe is a place
Cats At Their Bowls Lapping
This time there’s a postscript:
“If ever I cook dinner for you,
it will be Coquilles St. Jacques
and Jefferson Davis Pie.”
Imagine Angela,
after all these years,
rising and gliding
to check on my pie,
wouldn’t that be something?
Angela, come to Chicago,
and bring all of your cats.
I’ll watch those cats
in your lap napping,
you in my lap napping,
the cats at their bowls lapping,
and I in my chair laughing.
Angela, bring all of your cats
and come to Chicago
to make Coquilles St. Jacques
and Jefferson Davis Pie.
Donal Mahoney
I have a set of mixing bowls
handed down from my Grandmother.
There are four bowls in the set
that nest within each other.
The bowls she gave into my care,
have a long history to tell.
I will try to share some of it with you
I hope I tell it well.
The smallest bowl held fruits and nuts
and a varied array of spices.
Used and added to the mixes
of cookies and candies to delight us.
The next bowl size was used at breakfast
for scrambling the eggs.
Or for placing leftovers in
to use another day.
The third bowl she always used
for mixing up cake batters.
Birthdays, Easter or just because.
If she could bake, the occasion didn’t matter.
The biggest bowl was very large
And used mainly for dough to rise.
Nothing made the home smell better,
than fresh bread baking before our eyes.
Thus ends the tale of the mixing bowls
or maybe not all together.
For I plan to hand them down someday
to one of my granddaughters.
My passion is love,
anger, sorrow and hate.
I accept my mission.
I will be on this journey till it ends or it ends me.
I will abuse all of my senses to the fullest degree.
I will raise every bar to the bottom of every glass.
I'll keep shaving my face and wiping the ...... off my ass.