We have enough stuff to make dinner for anxiety.
All of the empty fixings we raise our laughter to.
He comes over once a month, every two weeks, once a week.
Settles down like tile patterns in the kitchen.
Anxiety has wit and is not scarce.
Blooms of stocking stuffers when it’s not even Christmas are deadly.
Maybe I’m brave enough to be spilled all over.
I have anxiety in my twitchy scalp.
We really do have enough for dinner.
The steam from the boiling pot is withering.
~ From "The Sound of Music" ~
Roaches on rye bread
with spiders and fixings
Vomit plus cream cheese
blending and mixing
Dogmeat and monkey
Plus dark raven wings
These are a few of
her favorite things
When the skunk farts
When the bear fights
When the wasp bites
and --- WHEN the bee stings
These are a few of her favorite things
JUST A FEW ~ of her favorite things!
“Sing”
by Positive Mark
May all your buried corpses now begin to speak.
May their wails be packed with the same emotional violence that brought on their unjustified demise.
When the splatter drowns out the chatter, it should be celebrated as any other revolution.
Now their fools shoot up the schools and other privatized institutions.
The land we love, and all the fixings.
The Lord above, and racial mixings.
I buried my face ‘tween the darkest thighs.
The gush washed the veil from my non woke eyes.
Everything’s possible on mornings I rise, so those brutalized corpses can sing.
Chicken on dry sliced rye,
at his neat
office workstation,
no garnish.
Suddenly she was there,
her chair roller wheels
squeaking.
Next time get a 'footlong' sub
with Mayo and all the fixings.
We could share it.
Messy he murmured,
studying his monitor.
A sigh,
as the office angel rose upward
on chubby wings.
The entrance of Spring, seasons well the vibrancy of greens evolving greener.
Age was hers and time was ours,
Love is the verbs blossom as roses scented reserve suite line composes,
Time marks a question measured to wrangle,
Gemmed Ivory and Ebony, host o'er our bejeweled Pearl.
Ships neither sink nor swim in tranquil Springs
Seas calmness...falsely trains expert yachtsmen,
Lost lamb hopes his roll's called up yonder ... as his last words read ...
Words that stem from the heart seldom a mind,
Good hopes and goodwill--righteousness succeeds,
Sanctuary
Carpe Diem With Heart
September Reflections
Diaphanous Dichotomy
It Came Upon A Midnight Clear Parody
Voice of a Silent Crib: New Poetic Form - Tearassonancenet
Walk The Tightrope
Nearer My God to Thee, Be A Cross That Raises Me
Poetry Soup Main Fixings: Words
My Afterthought's My Goal
Words that stem from the heart seldom a mind,
would update fellow captives of a world
they knew--spent or saved since, much like the word
they are ... or were. Absentia defined
the heart's favor or mayhaps realigned
for its survival. Nonetheless, the heart
becomes the key element or stalwart
of their concern for life to be designed
for that world's fruition, taste a la carte.
Spent and saved ills time, victims objective;
spotlight, be recognized, and make your claim:
--author, I live, create me ... for I'm yours.
Words from the heart spur a rare perspective
melds in inkwells, mutes parchment, voice frame
heartfelt words fused presence ... eternal years.
Ground brisket and red bean chili over rice
,...................
Deep fried spaghetti noodles w/zucchini
and bacon and marinara sauce
..............
Teriyaki Roasted pork or
Teriyaki Roasted turkey
W/ broad noodles and vegetables
.............,........
........beef half smokes
In carmelized onions and green peppers
Sweet potato pie
Bourbon carmelized
Pecans
And cheese cake
and brownie yeas
turnovers w/ coffee and rum
.........
.........................
Sourdough cinnamon rolls
With apple and radians
And brown sugar Carmel
.......
Smoked boneless rib sandwiches
Slathered in bbq sauce
One a toasted
Bun w/ the fixings
Served w both sweet potatoes fries
And our English chips
Don't forget the pickle!
..........
Ground brisket and red bean chili over rice
,...................
Deep fried spaghetti noodles w/zucchini
and bacon and marinara sauce
..............
Teriyaki Roasted pork or
Teriyaki Roasted turkey
W/ broad noodles and vegetables
.............,........
........beef half smokes
In carmelized onions and green peppers
Sweet potato pie
Bourbon carmelized
Pecans
And cheese cake
and brownie yeas
turnovers w/ coffee and rum
.........
.........................
Sourdough cinnamon rolls
With apple and radians
And brown sugar Carmel
.......
Smoked boneless rib sandwiches
Slathered in bbq sauce
One a toasted
Bun w/ the fixings
Served w both sweet potatoes fries
And our English chips
Don't forget the pickle!
..........
All the fixings bought
baking cooking time consumed
gracious compliments
Inside an archaic framework
she fetches a pail from the fields,
the bucket on her hip is full of
broken eagles.
Wind turbines churn in the distance.
He takes the mangled birds
plucks them,
puts their heads on poles
loads them onto a flatbed.
His dour darling fixes fixings
with a rusting air-fryer;
plaits her hair with chicken wire.
Drones mourn like doves in the evening.
Rattling pods spread
their dry seeds over abandoned crops.
Bald feathers flap on
a black-booted scarecrow.
A morbid factotum arrives
deposits clods of earth
from out the back of
of a fly-specked hearse.
Horse heads turn
on a squeaking wind vane.
Inside a slow burning barn
Unstrung fiddles lay at rest
in their open coffins.
fixings of Christmas
balance stress and excitement
bend knees - behold Christ
12/15/2022
She was a woman full of stories.
They oozed out of her and onto her skirts.
When she shook them, verbs and adjectives flew onto the floor.
I watched them congregate around her ankles
Forming run-on sentences.
No wonder story-telling is so easy to her
She doesn’t even need a muse
She has all the fixings at her fingertips and her toes
Chicken on dry sliced rye,
at his neat
office workstation,
no garnish.
Suddenly she was there,
her chair roller wheels
squeaking.
"Next time get a 'footlong' sub
with Mayo and all the fixings.
We could share it."
'Messy' he murmured,
studying his monitor.
A sigh,
as the office angel rose upward
on chubby wings.
Casserole, beggar’s stew. Surprise
All three of these words cause my husband to cringe.
When we were first married I put everything we ate into the pot on Friday.
All the sweet and sour fixings from the week – corn, radishes, brown sugar.
It mattered not, it went into the pot.
What is this? He would ask after taking a bite that turned his face green.
Casserole! I would sing out loud and proudly until he started refusing to eat casserole.
Then I renamed my Friday concoction beggar’s stew.
No one was begging for it, believe me.
Now I call it “surprise” but he always begs me to go out on Friday nights.
We have a lovely dinner, which, surprise, was my tactic all along.
I just did not know it.
Free verse flow floats thoughts free,
it’s a diary a ramble or rant with me,
the need to express without the discipline
or correction not listening
it the route to relaxation via a messy string
an eruption not stream
Causing intimate personal revelations
Pause, paint a structural level station,
syllables and sentence length in repetition
Differences not better worse but placement
I like both to be honest
that I promise
structure rhyme repeats the same beats
to a placement seat beat drum bing bang bong
where as freestyle fingers the piano random ding dung dong
Similar sounds not of a cycle or routine
but that’s not exiting or rousing
It’s the 8 o’clock alarm
the 9 o’clock start
5 o’clock finish
walk home in the dark
Whilst shift work mixes up the morning night times no fixings,
I think I freestyle when I need to rhyme
and structure when I want to rhyme
But I don’t judge either like up em self people
who need to read 3 4 3 4
I can 8 1 5 9 5 4
Cus if it ain’t a pattern they are just telling you honest truth,
if it’s structured they carved it not gave raw to you
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