From bathroom pipes, kitchen sinks
From inside cabinets, drain and sewer points
The cockroach approaches in a flash of time.
Once sighted, woman gets scared and yelp
A chance for the brave husband to help
And to flaunt his bravery and might.
Seizes the broom sitting at the corner
When the brave man comes with the broom
The sly cockroach is already lost from sight
The brave man hits at every nook and corner
Misses the target, and the mission to kill, fails
Leaves his wife in utter despair and anger.
Finds the pest below the cot and hits it hard
The cockroach struggled but did not die
Broom snaps, pest flees without a trace
Nastiest pest, nocturnal in habit
The insect at its best at night
Rarely surfaces in broad daylight
Finds escape routes to hide from sight.
The insect loves and lives in grime and filth
Ill at ease in open space and broad daylight
Always in hiding and retreating to dark
Pale tan , reddish brown, glossy dark to black
Shades of repulsive colours, gross to look
Notorious for infestations and spreads diseases
Now hogging limelight in media discourse.
I was but three when I took a stand,
just me and my hired hand,
a lonely, used-up kitchen scrubber,
and an intrepid band of rubber.
I blew up a little red balloon,
tied to a basket and left too soon.
The kitchen clock upon the
wall,
Is keeping watch over the
hall.
It counts the seconds as they
pass,
Like tiny grains of hourglass,
And speaks in ticks both high
and tall.
the ice tea glass sweats on the counter
catching a sliver of late-day sun.
it looks almost holy,
a small shrine to quiet domestic victories.
a danger for all
when wet it's like an ice rink
waiting for a crash
Grandma's kitchen was a magical place,
Filled with the smells of baking cookies
And hot chocolate simmering on the stove.
A place that transported you to yesteryear
As she told stories of family long gone,
Yet still alive in the memories she shared with me.
A pile of dark soil where the houseplant once sat,
Left by two hurried kittens as the broom went "splat!"
Muddy paw prints, feathery tufts
Last night's adventures across my stuff
A cat whose wondering
Led to unknown murdering
A crime scene on my kitchen floor
A fluffy tail swishing out the door
Big subdivision.
New houses on ground.
Sitting, just plonked there
with nothing around.
So close together.
How could they cry?
Without the neighbours
wondering why?
It happened before.
On our paddock too.
Homes for others,
all shiny and new.
Some might think,
About times before,
When sun hit the ground
and rain too and more.
The falling of trees
and planting of crops,
The sticks and leaf litter
no longer on top.
The house that I grew in
once wasn’t there,
but I don’t think
that I was aware.
The kitchen, my bedroom
had always been there.
Hadn’t they?
in the kitchen we heard the pop pop pop
then suddenly the clicky clacky made a stop
the popcorn’s finished, someone said
giggling was heard by Ed and Ned
Ed and Ned were the only children there
They ran to the kitchen and saw five who dare
Five faeries aiding in the making of the popcorn
No one else could see them, too long born
The faeries grinned at Ed and Ned
We are trying to get your family fed
The twins were delighted by the sight
They talked about faeries throughout the night
I still see her ghost.
She's at the woodstove cooking and baking.
Perfumes still roam the air.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
How lucky was I
To be young at a time
With no cellphones or Snap Chat
Just a kitchen landline
Coccooned in my own world
Safe from IG
No clickbait or comments
Just my 3 speed and me
I'd ride thru the backwoods
My location unknown
No airtags or status
Hiding from home
Didn't care about followers
About DMs or chats
Had my skates and my paper route
My green visor hat
I do miss those days
Unaccounted and free
Cartoons ,Luke and Laura
On an antenna TV
I was so hard to get to
and unable to find
Just a weak chance of reaching
On a kitchen landline
Alone in the kitchen—
The refrigerator is the loudest sound.
He sits and compares,
A home that was once too theirs.
Their running up and down the stairs;
Like wild mustangs and without cares
The refrigerator is the loudest sound—
He would prefer theirs.
Too bad they're grown and gone;
Realizing how much you depended on,
Having laces to tie, and crying eyes to dry,
Or how quickly life ambles by.
You hardly notice the passing years,
Till their not around—
And you're alone in the kitchen
And the refrigerator is the loudest sound.
Once our home was filled with love,
from God up above.
My kitchen had delicious foods cooking away,
as children played near by.
Many family and dear friends,
laughed and loved in my rooms of old.
One by one they went away,
all promising to come back someday.
My once pretty garden is now all weeds,
even the birds will not come near.
I'm A Forgotten Home,
I once was filled with love.
The glass never belonged
Where it found itself,
Lying in pieces, wronged
A mile below the shelf
Not knowing how it got there
Needing help getting up,
Too far to reach there ...
The handle of another cup
To a corner was cast aside
Among the cobwebs and dust,
It had so swiftly glide ...
The rest of the glass did bust
Shards in the shadows laid
Year after year unrepaired,
If only the glass had stayed
Upon a shelf where someone cared.
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