Cutters Poems - Poems about Cutters

It’s been a while since the Christmas of my youth. Some things it seems have gone away - Cookie cutters, hot cocoa, and an angel are three not with me today. Yes, Mama would get her cookie cutters out How I loved to help make the dough. We’d bake, then frost them, but these days, everyone’s too much on the go! People just...

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I thought I saw Santa flying and landing right on my roof Then someone said, it can’t be true, so I needed proof He was there, I swear, then suddenly he went ‘poof’ Even my dog saw him as she ran to the window, woof! All I could see when I looked then, was a red dot in the...

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COOKIE CUTTERS, HOT COCOA, AND AN ANGEL When I was small, with curly hair Mama would pull up a dining chair She'd stand me there beside her As she rolled out cookie dough And gently guide me through the steps For the cookies she would bake Letting me use the cookie cutters Carefully, for goodness sake We'd sip on a cup of hot cocoa While...

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Why do we long to conform to a defined ideal? And why is that ideal so stagnant and predictable? The patchwork quilt holds many more stories than the plain sheet And yet a celebrity will die trying to maintain an image How do we truly treasure the creative, entertaining snags that only visit on rare occasions? Let’s bend the cookie...

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catastasis of emotions spiral down until the pain magnifies itself too hard to breathe, she takes a knife touches it against her flesh, slices deep emotions bleed themselves dry release the pain from within she puts on her fake smile and hides the deed (inspired by a conversation with Timothy Hicks, I know much about that topic because that was me...

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Here's the doodle, way out West mind's a noodle, not depressed, searched the Pantry's, not to guess where's the boot, hat, cowboy's vest! Fair and Rodeo, next month soon, all the young'uns needing room their vacation, munching's boom cupcakes, chips, the same old tune! This might work, the cattle breaks and roping tricks combine to make the Western motif for land's sake I'll do their garments...

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These words, their meaning, it flows freely. Its as if these words bleed from me, fast and hard as red as blood. Sometimes it hurts like an angry cut when you go to deep. These words, misenturprted, scary, wanting, needing, living, breathing. They have a mind of their own. Their independant of me. These words leave me dazed, falling...

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Each day that I go to work, I feel like I’m a zombie… The smiling faces I put on are all just an act. At the end of the day my jaw hurts from putting on these fake smiles, The smile that seemed to be permanently glued to my face…slowly fades. I’m tired of making petty conversation, when I...

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