Why must you toast that slice?
You sure don't knead the carbs.
Please put the bread away.
Stick to your diet dear.
I like rye!
Dry fresh toast!
Please don't sigh.
Pie instead?
Don't be sly!
Please love me in completion
That you have seduced me
into the cuspuss of having
Only then to say that their are
Others
To claim it's natural to be mean
and uncaring, sorts the very dignity
Of Savant people
The ruins of your past relationships
are uncovered
Revealing the architecture of our
demise
Speak me as yours to restore the
decency of saved and never-savaged
Peoples
A nurtured land to bare the fruits
Of our labor
That our togetherness is neither in vain
or unwanted
To each ends and in full supply might
From Phat or Fat
Tricking a man to
Marry
By: Wellknown Writer
we be together
To devalue the terms of being used
and neglected
That we as one might never see suffering
as a means of punishing ones
Preferences and misgivings
Oh love perfectioned in trust
Speak me as yours
Might I sort the fruited plains
For our wines
Bring your sin and the ugliness within
It’s all we bring: our part of the equation
But He quickens us to Christ
This Desire of every nation
The ingredients found in the preparation
Is the recipe for God’s vindication
It’s more than a metaphor
It’s an intimate union prepared by the Lord
And as we doubt and fall, sinking as did Peter
Let us cry out to our Overcomer and Leader
(And daily we need our Savior because of our behavior)
“Mein Körper und mein Blut” says Martin Luther
But it’s more than just elements
But we have faith (and sin we exchange)
For our development
(It’s a spiritual imbibing of Jesus Christ
Needed for the Christians ambling through this life)
Myriads and myriads of angels
Descending and ascending on Jacob’s Ladder
For periods and periods in eternal life
We will live this faith (with each other), and for our Master
(In closing hear the pastor’s call, to all)
The Law and The Gospel, they work in tandem
As the Old Testament puts the baton in the New Testament hand
This is our faith that’s not contrary to reason
Even as we walk together with The King of the land
Bread hit them like a ton of bricks.
Bread can make one very sick.
Man minding his own business,
Quickly became a mayhem witness.
The teenage four, like the Joker’s core,
destroying aisles in the grocery store.
On a hot eve, they hit my man with a fighting bag.
It’s all a game…received more than a finger wag.
Like all good criminals they forgot camera’s rolling.
For act-out job, the manager - police would be calling.
But not until the chase and the chastening from victim.
Wrong guy - hoodlums shouldn’t have picked on him.
House Of Bread
Upon a humbled road ahead
House Of Bread
Abundance
Symbolic
A place of rest
Meaningful traditions
Spiritual beginnings
Mountains to valleys
Ancient path ways
Pilgrimage engraved
Passionate
Devotion
Put yourself last
Therapeutic
Give to others
Nothing in return
oh
sweet
lord
you
have
open up
thine
eyes of glory
and
i
realize
that
i
have nothing
else
to say
because
i
trust
in
your
sweet words
in
thy story
than
you
give me
thy
daily bread
I open the oven door
to a blast of heat
and hot bread bulging
out of a high tin, brown, crusty
and ready to be taken out.
That smell wafts across
seventy years to when I can
remember bread being delivered
in a horse and cart.
Carrying a big
wicker basket full of hot bread,
the baker would run
house to house whilst his horse
ambled along at a pace
in perfect sync with the bakers
progress along the street.
Weekday mornings
I would wait out front
and rush the hot bread
inside for my mother to make me
sandwiches for lunch.
Mum always complained
that the bread was too hot
for cutting. I had a steaming
slice smothered in butter
before I left for school.
Big, thick, uneven slices
of bread holding metwurst
or cheese or peanut butter
greeted me when I opened
my lunchbox at school.
Bread was never better.
Nearing eighty, I keep
baking bread, writing poems,
as if trying to recapture
those pleasures still steaming
in the past before they go.
here, between myself and myself,
God dwells when
He flees the world.
I found Him once
in a forgotten loaf of bread
on the steps of a hospice,
in an old woman asking forgiveness
for simply living.
He did not ask who I am.
He touched my brow
and retreated back into the wound.
we do not think.
we defend ourselves from thoughts
as from a fire burning within.
Flour, water, salt, and yeast
these basic ingredients at least
were for generations the staple
of bread eaten at the table.
To these basic natural four
have been added many more
“ingredients” whose description
might pass for a prescription!
Pharmaceuticals will justify
chemicals to keep the food supply
longer on the shelves, while you and I
suffer bodily effects by and by!
And have you ever tried reading
a bread’s label and had the feeling
you should have been a chemist
with a PhD. or at least a scientist?
Todays pharmaceuticals, I dread,
are now the bakeries of our bread!
And God forbid, we dare to bake
our own; in their eyes a big mistake!
They’d rather that we eat instead
the additives they put in bread.
So, if what you like are chemicals,
buy your bread at pharmaceuticals.
A shimmering thread binds thoughts together
Of moments of joy and sorrow
With a spring in our steps and a hope anew
Is the day tomorrow
The past is indeed a cherished treasure
As good ,memories fruit prevails and bitterness quelled
By the pen of positivity dispelled
Relishing a marvel indeed
With an inspiration for future good deeds
to the almighty we heed
And fellow brethren weave the golden threads of trust
Prancing through happiness's bread crust.
A tradition that goes beyond all else
a sweet little something, what else ?
Best when made at home with your two hands,
Baked after letting the dough rise.
Brings loved ones together as few other foods can.
Butter drips off every warm, fluffy bite.
Brake and share around your table of friends.
Breathe in the scent that brings memories to mind as it bakes.
Blessings bestowed by the Bread of life we partake.
Brown or white, it’s your choice
But don’t forget butter
Before you add toppings.
Best eaten fresh—so soft!
Baked to melt in your mouth.
Bite into crunchy crust
Because that’s the best part!
The strongest flour
The oil, the yeast
Combined in love
Before the feast
Salt
From Celtic shores afar
With waters warmed
The ideal spar
For microbes'
Fertive final frenzy
The rising feeds
Much foodstuff envy
More patience
As to final hours
The mixture blooms
While hope devours
The prospect of
Eternal life
Once oven baked
With heat and strife
To crusty beauty
Rich and soft
The father proud
To hold aloft
Before
Serrated sacrifice
To eager lips
From buttered knife
A gift from God
This golden leaven
Food for the soul
A slice of heaven
Many versions of me appear everyday,
I'm living several realities this way.
There are many parts that want to play,
A galaxy full of life feels what I say.
Staying connected by design,
Leaving Divine dreams behind.
Little bread crumbs for me to find,
A complex story time has defined.
A mansion of rooms within my mind,
Everyday a new reality i designed.
Aligned with the Divine I climb,
A ladder of lessons evolving me.
Revolving around seeing what's to be,
Carrying me through eternity.
It's energy I see in everything,
Vibrating at its own frequency.
Many versions await discovery,
Some are in recovery.
So many Me's I get to play,
Waking up different everyday.
Yesterdays shadow may affect me today,
Just another version I get to play.
Aware of my present creating the way,
Being the best version of the part I play.
Related Poems