Coffee Cake Poems | Examples

Rum-tum-tum

rum-tum-tum like a drum
full of emptiness; anticipatory
what shall I eat - food or zest?
I wait for the clang
rum-tum-tum like a drum
with brand new tires. tirelessly 
I can wait for fresh and vinyl
for a good long song, like
rum-tum-tum like a drum
yet while I wait, I’ll eat
lettuce? avocados? or score
coffee cake to go with a lake
of caffeine intake. full of
rum-tum-tum like a drum
anticipatory hum of new wheels

Life of Dogs

Coffee cake and ice cream:
    great way to start your day.
Coffee, cake, and ice cream:
    an even better way.

A comma for some coffee
    and icing on your cake -
A punctuated morning
    with dogs whose collars shake.

I would have much preferred if
    the dogs had slept past four.
Six would have been luxurious;
    it’s hard to ask for more.

But four just frankly frustrates;
    it seems a tad unfair.
For they will lie and sleep all day
    without the slightest care.

Meanwhile, I will be crashing,
    come off that sugar high.
The struggle’s real to stay awake;
    I may not even try.

Such is the life of dogs,
    retired people too.
With coffee, cake, and ice cream
    we’ll somehow make it through.

Change

Change
I used to be the mother
        who entertained.
I used to be the mother
who made spring rolls
and stuffed clams
and fancy entrees
        for parties
Once I worked all day,
        cared for my children and
        baked fancies to sell for
        a little extra money
I made South African frikkadels
        and tangerine dessert for
        my daughter’s International Day
        at school and, another time,
a Colonial dress with a bustle,
        needed tomorrow!
Attended my sons’ band concerts
and football games.
Nights found me at League of
Women Voters or other meetings.

Now I rarely go out at night.
Sometimes I bake a coffee cake
for church coffee hour,
plain, nothing fancy.
I sit while I mix and stir and
use a walker to get around.
Today my children tell me to stay put
while they get my coffee
or find my book.
Now I am the child and they
        the busy parents who care for
and worry about me.

Bells Bells Bells

day snuck up
before I could shut
the big light down
and in this  land 
where church bells 
crack cold mornings 
I am caught
on a day in a place
I am not prepared to face
oh well
this place
won't miss this face
if it rolls over
until the bars open
the night can bathe me
in sweet silky dreams
tuck me in its warm soft love
and cover me with stars
when its turn comes
I'll be easy 
but this day 
another cafe
coffee and cake
a walk along the Rhine 
church bells 
morning, noon and night
why
they don't toll the hour
clock tower's easy to read
they just remind me 
of what I am unconvinced 
wonder what the bishop
living with them hears
you are stuck in a routine 
from which you'll never be free 
for which, he (not she) probably
is thankful 
day will never sneak up
on him (not her)
and those bells...
you know

I Am An Emotional Eater

I eat sugar and salt, donuts, coffee cake and jalapeno peppers too.
Because these are things a meddling doctor told me not to do.
They are my forbidden foods, so I grab them up in droves.
If I had hot homemade bread, I would devour up those loaves.

I have gained a bunch of weight. Weight I had lost long ago.
I have a gold medallion from a diet club, which gives me now a woe.
Have gained sixty-four pounds I lost, adding to them twelve more.
Hey! Husband of mine, are you heading out to the Happy Foods Grocery Store?

I am an emotional eater.
When my feelings are hurt, I reach for the chips.
Most of the weight is in my stomach, but also my butt and my hips.
Once upon a time I stopped overeating, but I am older now and say.
I have to do something fun to get through the rest of this horrible day.

Memories

A red barn, surrounded by sunflowers,
Children laughing within the home,
A chandelier above the door,
A dog barking in the distance
Roosters crowing,
Arms enveloping their love,
A fence surrounded by purple and white flowers, 
Slowly climbing an iron trellis,
Small pathways surrounding a home,
A dream I once had,
I swear I had seen it, smelt it, felt it,
A sweet smell, coffee cake, flowers, 
Smiling faces, love in open arms,
A field of memories,
I swear once they were mine,
To have, to keep, to cherish,
Yet when my eyes open,
The sun is rising,
No longer am I surrounded by the sweet smells,
No longer is there laughing and love,
I walk the street, another day,
My small, cramped apartment,
Of which smells like a city,
Cold, distant, alone,
Only cherishing memories that I do not own,
I move on, working, living, and then dying,
Always in the cold places of reality,
Forever looking for the heat of the dreams.

Hailstorm of Brunch

A hailstorm of brunch and some juice.
Sweet dough in a coffee cake boost.
A casserole got ‘em
with croissants on bottom.
When time for clean up, fed friends vamoose.

8/29/2021

All In a Day

Beeping sounds
Hot water on body
Drank from a cup
Black as coal

Eggs down the hatch
Card punched
Work begins
Thinking of fishing

Clock moves slow
Break for ten
Coffee cake
Gossip at water cooler

Computer like me, slow
Five o'clock time to,
Rock and roll
Locked keys in car

AAA rescues
Home again another day
Fake News
Beer is on the way
Politics new station 

Sleeps like a rock then,
Another day begins

Contest: All In A Day
Sponsored by: William Kekaula
Date Created: 09/03/2020

Random Thoughts That Rhyme

Adjectives laugh, insisting on their way
Bright eyed ideas determined to stay
Creativity ready to leap and parlay,
Dancing along my dendrite highway
Elusive words rather well fed
Frankenstein fodder explodes in my head.
Grotesque vocabulary parades in my brain.
Hip hop dancers drive me quickly insane.
I eat sixteen sweet rolls, hoping to get fat.
Joking and jumping this way and that.
Kookaburra does knee bends each and every day
Longing to twist me in another creative way
Mysterious mantis is now flying freshly free
Nefarious tentacles swiftly and firmly grab me.
Ostrich in top hat lets out an exasperated sigh.
Purple eggplant pinnacles decorate a warm pie.
Quivering chimps travel in a new outer space.
Responsible llama queens are running in place.
Striped horse pretends now to be a zebra.
Twirling in Africa with a shiny ameba.
Underwater feelings with her weird hums
Vision quests brought on by Cherokee drums.
Walrus and whales summoning a great white shark,
‘Xtraspecial playmates whistling in the autumn dark.
Youth spreading coffee cake around to annoy.
Zealots persuading no one of their frenzied joy.

More

...MORE


“Stop! I see poppies.
     Snap picture.” —reminds
                   me of poppy bread.
     Salivating tongue.
Strong arms of Grandma.

Hungarian
                   angel, she’d bake
                     coffee cake with
sweet dough and nuts

Furthermore:
                        she rolls out;
cuts noodles.

                             Open
        your door 

ONCE…


5/12/2020
Diminished Hexaverse Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Emile Pinet

Time Is Elementary

The only reason for time
is so that everything
doesn’t happen at once

Albert Einstein

TIME IS ELEMENTARY

swatches of bands, smart
time is elementary;
strapped snug, cosseted
on a small-pale wrist.

coffee fumes and coal
chugging on life’s track.
cuckoo bird on half
and every hour —
oh, why’d it have to stop?!
(salvation in Grandma’s coffee cake)

polaroid portions collecting dust;
ink-streaked down
memory’s bust.

ironic how i can’t remember
the ding-dong digital or sundial
in our own home —
clocks have a mind of their own
busy with keeping its children,
well swept, wound
and educated.

6/29/2019

Granny's Recipes

From fruit scones, to meat pie,
Apple crumble and coffee cake,
Sunday tea was amazing,
Because, my Granny sure could bake.
Secret ingredients, she wouldn't divulge,
Passed down from years gone by,
When I look back on those days,
It brings a tear to my eye.
From butterfly buns, to Victoria sponge,
A moist fruit loaf, filled with flavour,
Jam tarts and gingerbread men,
For the kids to savour.
Sausage rolls and a birthday cake,
Made for a special party tea,
Cheese and onion pie a fresh baked loaf,
All made especially for family.
Granny's recipes are the best recipes,
Made of all things nice,
A Granny's love as the main ingredient,
To add that extra bit of allspice.

Coffee With Sasquatch

An old friend stopped by this misty morn,
Filled his cup with warming Joe,
It’s good to be in his company,
He is the finest of my friends I know.

He appeared out of the morning twilight,
Quiet with bright clear eyes,
My cup disappeared in his massive hand,
Over which his hair lies.

We connect without the use of words,
I want nothing of him, nor he of me,
Just an understanding between friends,
Not many he lets see.

Hot brew with a coffee cake,
One lump for me, he likes two,
He brings blueberries,
To add spice to our brew.

Not a creature or a man,
Just taking time to share,
A quiet moment between friends,
Not seeing my skin or his hair.

Gone faded back into the dark,
Was he even here?
Proof is his empty cup,
And I sense him near.

Rickity Ragity

Rickity Ragity  by James Edward Lee Sr.
 
Rickity risked
rags while rolling rolls
role playing rogues
rose roused rubbing
rubbish right handed
ricochet retained objective

Rickity Ragity is his full name
He is a rabbit who ain't ashamed
Sewing and gambling is his game

retaining ripen red roses
russet runts running mates
ripping rip roaring while showing
rhinoceros repelling lions swag

Rickity Ragity is his full name
He is a rabbit who ain't ashamed
Sewing and gambling is his game

Rickity girlfriend is a chinchilla
who lives in the villa
her name is Regina
and she likes ruba-shakes
sipping on organic carrot laden coffee cake
recovering reaction reckoning
Rickity buys licorice

Rickity risked ricochet retained objective
Sewing and gambling is his game
rhinoceros repelling lions swag
Rickity Ragity is his full name
He is a rabbit who ain't ashamed
Sewing and gambling is his game
Rickity Ragity is his name

12/06/17

Silent Roosters Sleep

SILENT ROOSTERS SLEEP

Dads don’t sleep.  They drive over-packed cars, and sip coffee from a thermos cup. Kids in backseat mull over grandma’s home ~ roosters never move, cuckoo clock never quits, and grandma’s always at the door, waiting. Front passenger divvies out cheerios and chips. The turnpike yawns with well-worn pitstops. All seats salivate for grandma’s homemade coffee cake. “Are we there yet?” echoes, bounces, plays with the driver’s nerves. Dads get revenge, transforming the auto into a tour bus. Pointer finger flashes toward a birthplace, a high school, and a park, and finally a hearth in the suburbs of Depew.

silent roosters sleep
moonlight auto unpacks dawn
crowing door exhales

7/14/2017
Haibun Form

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