Cornflakes Poems | Examples

I don't need any of them

,,Wear a bandage"
Why when the hurt goes away anyways?
Why buying water when we have some in bathrooms?
Why new clothes when we can use old ones?
Why always new food when I can eat cornflakes for morning and goodnight?

Maybe time gets earned more,
but when I would ask you to stay loving or him also loving you,
You would choose the second, right?
But I don't need a bandage,
I don't need him.
I want to face the reality how he is being,
I don't need to force a love life.

Then I will see jelousy,
And tears,
Better than,
Not protecting.

I hate defending.

Lola

I sat beneath the table made of glass where I often injured myself from, 
My choclate aphabet in the boal I ate quicker then someone who hits on a drum, 
My dad who makes me a ponytail even though he left some bumps.
,,Dad!! Put lola on", 
I begged my dad, my patience was gone.
,,Sure, but in 20 min we need to leave hun"
,,yes dad."
Lola was a little girl who had hair like spaghetti, she was short like me, she must be, she's 9 too.
She had a butterfly on her hair sometimes I really liked.
And the clothes looked like touched from the rainbow.
She got mad a lot, like me when I do.
She had a big bro, like my big sister he loves to act like dad.
But he always had his hand back of her head, 
like her I love to run through streets too!
He also made her always some cornflakes with choclate hoops.
I love choclate hoops.
,,let's go"
,,yep!"

Crying

Crying in the sunshine.
Crying in the rain.

Crying over sadness
Crying over pain.

Crying over a baby's birth
Crying tears of joy

Crying if it's a little girl
Or a baby boy.

Crying in the darkness
Crying because of fear.

Crying in your cornflakes
Crying in your beer.

Crying you cannot stop
Although you do your best.

Crying is a sign to say
I just might be Depressed.

Just a Mom

When your kids are grown your just a mom,
They call you to be their calm. 
You’re not allowed to have advice,
Unless it’s about how to remove mice.
A friend sometimes you just want to be,
But as for feelings of the heart, you are only to agree.
The ache of them being no more a child,
With the tears of the past, you are allowed only a smile.
And with great satisfaction, 
That you raised them right, and they get  nothing more than an infraction. 
Into pieces your heart breaks,
As tears fall into your morning cornflakes. 
And you spend your day listening for a phone call,
That slowly fades into a night of listening to the sad and lonely rainfall.

© Deborah Seale Schnadelbach 2023

Corned Beef

Corned beef

25 years ago, I found in the attic of a small hotel
briefly used as headquarter by British troops after
the war, a tin of bully beef.
I opened the tin, the meat looked lovely and fat
cut a slice tasted as made yesterday.
Later in the evening, I made a stew of potatoes
onions and carrots, added the corned beef, for
refugees, a Polish family of five; yes, the Poles too
had once been refugees, not one would think so
closing their border for other asylum seekers.
As it was their first hot meal since they bedraggled 
arrived, they ate well; the next day, over the cornflakes
I was glad to see they were well.
About corned beef, a friend of mine, Alex Skillen, had
been a cook in the army, now he worked at a plant
assembling cars in Ellesmere Port, he liked bully beef
we used to go to the British Lion, play darts and
drink beer, he loved my little books and told people
about it; he was a fan.
Once, he told me he had made the observation that
workers went to strike more under labour than
the Tories, I resisted saying there had been no labour
party since Clement Atlee’s government.

Ma Jebeh's Children

Ma Jebeh's Children

They sit to Redlight, Waterside and Omega,
Selling fufu, cornflakes and meat pie,
Sometimes even crayfish and chicken thighs,
In muddy waters and messy trousers.

They have a great dream,
But their eyes are being shut from every little gleams,
They have told that putting Bible in your pocket,
Is that what you were sent for.


When one gets a chance to the Mansion,
Well he's told that the others are not his blood,
But Ma Jebeh's Children will soon break loose,
From the oppressor.


The ones who seem discerned minded,
These the oppressor kills with pleasure,
Take their wealth and make it his treasure.

-Gabriel T. Saah (Marvelous Inker).

Breakfast Last Night

We shared a breakfast late last night-

while sun was shining neath the moon.

Ate cornflakes off a cob held tight;

spread hotcakes with iced syrup strewn.

Made scrambled eggs- sunny side up-

cold catsup sizzling on the top-
 
Then poured fresh brew from day-old cup

made sweeter by sour lemon drop.


September 8, 2021

Contest: Nonsense Poetry
Sponsor: Charles Messina

Saturday Morning November 1964

Saturday Morning November 1964
My twin and I have a TV Guide in front of us
We are thrilled because we got a colored TV set yesterday.
In the TV Guide there is a peacock by the shows that are in color.
This will be the first time we have ever seen Under Dog in color!
We watch the clock. 
10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
Under Dog music starts.
A flying underdog flashes across the sky.
He is wearing mostly red; his cape is blue. 
My twin and I stare at each other.
“I thought his outfit was blue!” we both say.
We have only seen him in grayscale up until now.
Polly Purebred was a complete surprise too.
I had pictured her in green, and my sister thought she would be in pink.
She was dressed in blue.
We ate our soggy cornflakes in silence.
I felt betrayed. I am not sure how my sister felt.
It is like seeing a movie after you have read the book
and have pictured the characters completely different.

Slimming Tm

Once when an overweight boy, named JOE BLOGGS,
    Tried slimming on cornflakes, made by KELLOGGS.
    Then with an APPLE each day,
    To keep DOC MARTIN away.
    Gave up AFTER EIGHT, MCDONALD'S mac dogs.
    
 

    Sponsor Sara Kendrick.
    12 / 24 / 2020.

Kellog's Time

When the rooster crows

   The farmer's already up

      Kellogg Cornflakes time




            April 26, 2020
   Morning Praise Poetry Contest
        Sponsor: Raul Moreno

Reverse Nations

Reverse Nations
You ask me how I am
I feel fine and happy and all that
I hope you are the same
I’m bright and smiles
You’re often melancholic
We are different in outlook
I work in a wood factory
You tell me you’re a chef
Shall we have a chat and compare lives?
I like reading the newspaper
You prefer glossy fashion magazines
We are both diverse in our tastes
You say you eat cornflakes and drink tea
I have a coffee and jam toast
Breakfast is very important
It’s good to be different in our choices
You take a stroll in the park
I smoke a cigarette by my window
How do you start your day?

Meat

She turns up the blue flames,
lowers the chops.
Dripping crackles, iron is fat licked -
grease on her fingers.

The meat finds its voice,
splutters of buttery smaze.
The pork is in bloom.
The animal inside the flesh 
disappearing.
The meat opening 
florets of aroma.

My stomach is cramping,
not with anticipation,
but with an acidic hopelessness.

Mother turns from the gas burner;
splattered apron - flushed cheeks. 
She smiles, not looking at me,
but seeing a man
who will be home soon.

“He will love these.”

I pretend not to hear, but wonder
if there will be milk with 
my cornflakes.

In the Golden Sunrise Children Eat Cereal For Breakfast

~the golden sunrise
an empty sunrise pouring
at the old cornflakes
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
impish break of day
a raw, content milk floating
on the cloudy skies
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   
lack luster breakfast
a content children hungry
out of cereal`~

3/31/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©

An Old Corndog and a Diet Dr Pepper

An old corndog and a Diet Dr. Pepper
as the lunch of a bachelor king
An old corndog and I'm looking for the mustard
what more could happiness bring

I can live in my underwear on the weekends
don't need to shower or shave till Monday morning
No worries about stinking reek'n
with enough beer, no day is ever boring

Watch sports on television
play poker with old pals anytime
Life could not be more like heaven
living the bachelor life so divine

Leftover spaghetti for breakfast is a given
pour beer on my cornflakes
No fussing about how I'm live'n
doing as little as it takes

An old corndog and a Diet Dr. Pepper
is lunch but not fine cuisine
An old corndog and I finally found the mustard
a pretty face makes me clean and change my scene

Quirks and Preferences

QUIRKS

I once had a friend long time past 
Who was wont to always break his fast
On cornflakes not with honey and milk
But pickled onions, gherkins and their ilk

Now if that’s not a quirk I’ll eat my hat
But when I do I must specify that
The brim must have ketchup, and then the crown
Will need Mulligatawny soup to wash it down

I have penchants predilections and preferences
For which others give tolerance and deferences
Like playing Wagner while eating beef jerky
And some other things that are just as quirky

I can ride a bike when not too far
Sitting backwards perched on handle bar
And though not Welsh, but from English stock
I can pronounce Llanfair­pwllgwyngyll­gogery­chwyrn­drobwll­llan­tysilio­gogo­goch

In choosing twixt the Burgundies and Bordeaux’s
I adjudicate by colour and by nose
But if the menu’s fish and chips with mushy pea
I’ll settle for a nice cup of tea

So live and let live and we’ll get along 
With our whims each singing a different song
These fancies, whether from Venus Mars or Saturn
All add to life’s rich quirky pattern

• Short Cornflakes Poems
• Famous Cornflakes Poems
• Best Cornflakes Poems
• Read Cornflakes Poems
• Long Cornflakes Poems
• Cornflakes Quotes