Indulgence Poems

The Last Indulgence, Or Maybe The First?

I butter the toast as if it were a pardon,
its crust breaking under my knife
like a sealed envelope.

The coffee is bitter ink,
a confession cooling in its cup.
I swallow it fast,
as if speed could trick the executioner.

When I buy myself flowers
I imagine them lining a witness box:
petals trembling,
each one swearing I once existed.

I take long baths,
the

chocolate

chocolate covered
strawberry bite ~
sweet indulgence



AP: Honorable Mention 2025

Without Regrets What Have I Left

The end of days is a term
Dark enough
To make men squirm
And real enough
In a way
To make one consider
His final day…
Without regrets…who’s to say

And doing so I must look back

On what I wrought
And what I wrecked
What I built
And what I broke
What I gave 
And what I took

Then the book that tallies sums
Finds me wanting
And then some
For

Ignorant Indulgence

Juicy Couture
Juicy Couture
Dont make ish like this no more

Bring back good fashion
SHEIN is tired
Wool, silk, linens
Put polyester in a fire

The fads have faded
Trends are tired
Give us proper clothes
Our situation is dire

This waste, this consumption
Our society is plagued
This greed, this hunger
Buying through guilt and rage

A human hole 
Fill it with stuff
Emotions take hold
Fill it with fluff

No

Overflow Infliction

     Unswallowed lumps of lobster immodest
     Crustacean returns to pincers persimmon 
     Waitress whisk indiscernible clears linen 
     Custom of one equates her eight hour day


     Has It All Paul wipes away gourmet residual
 

A Night To Remember

It can’t have been the scallops,or the rump of Islay lamb,
washed down with white Rioja, and followed by sweet meringue.
It wasn’t the skate au poivre or the salmon canapés,
nor garlic stuffed green olives or the double chocolate glaze.
The ruby red Barolo is surely not to blame
( it was so very very good, we had some

Festive Indulgence Woes

At Christmas we feast to our hearts galore,
And can eat until our stomachs are sore,
If one’s gut should implode,
The bottom may explode,
Oh! My goodness! Do I have to say more?


30/11/22

Tania Kitchin

A Funny Christmas Limerick Contest

Full As a Tick

The neighborhood buffet boasted 
fried chicken and biscuits, toasted, 

creamy gravy, and smashed taters. 
You can serve yourself, no waiters. 

Into the long line you will strut
more than ready to fill your glut.

Bypass the green salads and soup; 
run quickly, to the fried foods swoop 

all you can eat for one price cheap. 
Pile your

My Downfall

Lovely to look at
Incredibly delicious
Fresh baked donuts
Not so nutritious

Sugary and sweet
Glazed so divine
A baker’s dozen
They’re all mine

Too much sugar
Brings on a coma
But I have earned
My donut diploma

Licking my fingers
After each bite
Sends sugar level
Clear out of sight

I’d share my donuts
If you were here
But since you’re not
Perhaps have a beer!

Written March 27, 2022

Over Indulgence

so welcome the rain
arid ground starved of moisture…
a paddle for wheels

© Harry J Horsman 2021

Indulgence Denied

Birds of similar feather 
conspire together
when sores of society 
open chaotic doors.
A boiling abscess 
provides easy access.
Statesmen must team up 
before angry masses teem
and cross the threshold of justice. 

Jan 11, 2021

Angel Unaware

I saw an old man sitting by the road
His coat was torn, and his cap was low
It was clear he had no place to go
Life had given him too heavy a load.

I thought to stop and offer to share
To make his life a tiny bit better
Considered the apostle's simple letter
Possibly to entertain angel unaware

The pressure

Stuporous Indulgence

Gentle rain shower looking beautiful
until the roof starts leaking 
Egoic indulgence hardly seem harmful
until we feel ourselves contracting

We first build up the momentum
and then upon realising seek undoing
The sway of the pendulum
takes time in again quietening

23-August-2020

Indulgence

Gentle rain shower looking beautiful
until the roof starts leaking 
Egoic indulgence hardly seem harmful
until we feel ourselves contracting

We first build up the momentum
and then upon realising seek undoing
The sway of the pendulum
takes time in again quietening

18-August-2020

Modern Appetite

Modern Appetite
by Michael R. Burch

"Women, wine, song ..."

It grumbled low, insisting it would feast
on blood and flesh, etcetera, at least
three times a day. With soft lubricious grease

and pale salacious oils, it would ease 
its way through life. Each day—an aperitif.
Each night—a frothy bromide, for relief.

It lived on TV fare, wore pinafores,
slurped sugar-coated gumballs, gobbled S’mores.
When

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