Long Chocolaty Poems
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We’re in a “new” trendy neighborhood called Cascade Heights, in Atlanta. It’s lush - hydrangea, musk rose, hoya and blue false indigo are in bloom and there are greens of every possible variation.
The sky is clear and southern-sun bright - shadows are crisp. It’s going to be 91°(f) today and although it’s only noon, the heat is rising.
Leong pointed out the black tubes that discreetly provide air-conditioning, carefully hidden in the shrubbery surrounding the shaded, outdoor dining area. She thought that was very clever and American. “They’re for survival,” I assure her, “it gets hotter and hotter over the summer.”
Leong and I are finishing lunch, savoring a decadent chocolate chai-tiramisu dessert. “Oh, my God,” Leong said, sliding the chocolaty spoon over her tongue, “oomm.”
“So good,” I said, moaning with pleasure and closing my eyes.
The waiter comes over with an iPad, I wave my watch, like a magician’s wand and we’re free to go.
We were going to relax a minute and finish the last of our cold chai-tea, but as the waiter left our cleared dishes, a rando, wino-looking, elderly man came up to the bushes by our table and said to me, “You look sad.”
First of all, I think: NO - and who ARE you? Thinking secondly, OMG, go away.
I didn’t know what to say - but he put the kibosh to lingering. I started having an “eye-contact-only” conversation with Leong. Are we about done here - do you have your phone and purse - shall we go?
Leong and I stand, in unison, pushing our chairs back with our legs, gathering our shopping bags and belongings in fluid motions long-perfected at mall food-courts.
“We have to go,” I say, with a half-smile and goodbye nod to the man, “have a nice day.”
He watches us go for a moment and we surreptitiously watch him watch us go. Charles, our escort, who was at another table, fell in, a short distance behind us.
Maybe the guy was just being friendly, but you can’t underestimate CrAzY in 2022
"We can't ever fathom,
when the ceasing flicker of hope
flutters away,
and
escapes to an
endless forest;
the only charm in this
spellbound life is,
to chase that
scarred saffron second
and hue it with our own
enchanting light..."
As the fiddling
crescent basks
in this reborn moonrise,
I slowly blanket
my soul with
shivering sighs
of frozen stars,
as they trickle
down my lungs
and echo a
scentless spring,
where oceans
yearn to feel
the kiss of
floral zephyrs,
tickling their
turquoise sirens.
Perhaps,
I was once a
lifeless snowdrop,
a stygian silhouette
of midnight which
wrapped those
neon skies,
as black ice
melted in cores,
when pain became
my melancholic
soulmate and no
philosopher's stone
could turn this
solemn melody,
into sapphire ruins
of remedy.
Since my spirit
has hibernated
in this crystal castle -
I've been waltzing
in a wondering,
did my eyes
loose their dazzle
and become mere
colourless dots
of an oil pastel
portrait, as
this quill turned
vengeful for
its own spirit?
Did I break
my own heart,
by watering the
macabre of miracles?
Fading in
marigold mangroves
that whisper to
my delicate muse,
I feel the breaths
of mirthful wingbeats,
ricocheting and
making me swoon
over a pedestal of
pure sunrays.
Have I always
been this alive,
where these pulses,
reverberating
in my chestnut skin,
could wake me up
from the crestfallen
slumber?
Now, as these
topaz horizons
unfold their
golden carpet,
embroidered with
velvet peonies
and silk carnations,
I slowly bloom,
with a princess-cloak
of fluffy feathered
petals, resting
upon the crown of
emerald leaves,
bathed in chic
chocolaty lakes, as,
~ an empyrean lotus.
So, reminisce me
evermore, as an
imperfect lyric
of a dusky
peach pixie,
leaving footprints
of faith in a
muddy reverie,
for, on the
bluebell crest
of lush earth,
reigns this
rosy Cleopatra,
rhyming with
jeweled perfumes
of tomorrow.
Have no pity for the overweight,
the out of breath at the garden gate,
the struggling in and out of cars,
cnsumer of syrup and chocolate bars.
Walking sticks and mobility scooters,
the difficult bras encasing hooters.
Red faced men and lard arsed women,
their promise of tomorrow slimming.
Condemn me now, I'm for the blaming,
in this campaign, this body shaming.
So many things beyond control,
my ugly skin and shallow soul,
but when I walk I leave no hole.
People say I'm out of touch,
I think that we accept too much,
fat piggy people should disgust.
Their need,
selfish
greed,
want,
desire,
gluttony,
feed,
pig,
and
opinionated.
Big is beautiful,
big and proud.
And all the while,
the dying sound,
cry of starvation,
die of starvation,
you,
You lie of starvation!
because the pudding was not chocolaty enough!
because there is no ice cream left,
if your wanting mouth needs to consume,
feast on torment of starving children,
drink only tears of broken mothers.
There across the movie screen,
treats were dancing and
telling us to find them at
the concession stand.
Yes, I knew I should not go.
I‘d just eaten lunch.
At the snack bar, they beguiled,
“Have a little munch!”
M & M’s and Hershey bars -
chocolaty delight -
with such smooth deep voices asked
me to take a bite!
Hot dogs nearly barked out, “Don’t
let us go to waste!”
Meanwhile candies sweetly sang,
“Have a little taste.”
Then an Ice cream bar chimed in,
“Take a bite of me!
I can take a licking too
and most happily.”
Pepperoni pizza was
sure a little tease.
calling out with Nachos, “Hey,
We’ve got lots of cheese!”
At that dine-in theater
clamored other food.
Subway, Arby’s, many more
sounding rather rude.
They were all competing , but
Popcorn filled the air
with its heady butter scent.
What a circus there!
All were screaming out to me
(though I don’t know why),
“Bite me! Bite me!” Don’t foods know
bitten, they will die?
Well, I bought the popcorn as
my dear hubbie sighed,
“We already had our lunch.”
“Bite me,” I replied.
In 7/5 Trochee Form for the Bite Me Contest of John Lawless
The feel of brown skin swirled around the cup of hands.
With lips soft and full.
I too melt in a passionate place.
With taste of something warm and comforting.
It's hard to rearrange something as divine as touch.
The groove of lips stir such emotion in body and mind.
Setting it priority, forgetting to stand in a moment of euphoric proportion.
An eclipse follows in steady motion.
Without use of sugar or cream.
I stood in a flood of on going cries.
Stained by the rise of steam bold enough to claim where we've stood.
Stained in our essence, her essence.
The depth of her eyes.
A constant motion of sights sitting still.
It's unfortunate, the people whom stand in line.
Their misuse of foam cups, soy blend extracts.
Love shouldn't be diluted with sweetness readily made available.
But instead in consistency.
Rising like steam
One fine day, me, Molly Coddle and my Goombah Pa Pa,
were sitting in The Cat In The Hat restaurant;
we gongoozled the men-you. " oh, I have collywobbles
in my tummy!" I said sort of loudly. (hint, hint)
Finally, our waiter Fuddy Duddy, (that is his name, honest)
so slowly, comes over, "What will you hatz?" He sayz;
I quickly place my odour, " I'll have a chocolaty lickety split,
a smellfungus burger with all the rigmarole with it;
and some fat-me-up fries!"And I slam close, the men-you.
Goombah Pa Pa lookz at his men-you for the longest time,
(oh la di la, whatz the brouhaha, just odour, I'm a thinking)
at last he sayz, "I'll have some kerfuffle tea, and some of
that skullduggary soup of the day and some shennanigan
pasta surprize!" And he slams the men-you closed, with a smile.
Fuddy Duddy nods and walks away with the speed of a snail,
(oh gobbleygook, my tummy is rumbling) when at last he;
is coming our way with a tray loaded with our meal- (rumble!)
when some doozy, klutz of a kid trips Fuddy Duddy, and
we have to skedaddle out of the way . . . or wear our food!
Goombah Pa Pa, canoozles me on the cheek. "Nevermind,
Molly Coddle, we'll just re-odour . . .
(oh collywobbles, I'm thinking, loudly)
Goombah Pa Pa, whispers, "patience is a virtue, Molly Coddle!"
(rumble!)
______________________
March 18, 2017
Narrative/Molly Coddle and her Collywoobles
Copyright Protected, ID 885485
I Need A Cup of Seuss
Jerry T. Curtis,
To hear the surf or trill of spring’s new birds;
A cat’s soft purr or strong and stirring words;
Endearments whispered; songs so cute I grin,
My heart sings out as joy wells up within.
To see the sun fall, gorgeous on the sea;
An unexpected rainbow over me;
A moving scene; glad faces of my kin,
My heart sings out as joy wells up within.
To smell a rose; sweet lavender in bloom;
Popcorn at the movies; favorite perfume;
Aroma of Mom’s cooking once again,
My heart sings out as joy wells up within.
To taste delicious food when out to dine;
Ice cream on my tongue; a lover’s mouth on mine;
Cold drinks; desserts as chocolaty as sin,
My heart sings out as joys wells up within.
To feel a gentle rain; snowflakes on my nose;
Ocean's breeze; the tides; the sand between my toes;
Sun’s warmth; the heat of passion on my skin,
My heart sings out as joy wells up within.
To feel INSIDE me such a happy glow
It radiates to everyone I know;
The love that lets me know life is win-win,
My heart sings out as joy wells up within.
For Line Gauthier's "My Secret to Happiness" Poetry Contest
*This is what happiness truly means to me and what makes life worth living!
Candies a chocolaty treat
Strawberries are moist and sweet
Separate they make your mouths whirl
But it starts to dance and twirl
When these treats are joined as one
Chocolate berries so much fun
Like two lonely hearts can be
Sad and painful separately
With no one to love and hold
They are left out in the cold
Looking for some warmth and care
Searching almost everywhere
Two heartbeats to join within
And happiness will soon begin
This joyful day we both found
When we heard a saddened sound
Coming from across the room
Beating out I'm lonely too
Pulling us closer together
Broken hearts can be so clever
When they see another one
Alone and looking for some fun
You leave little sprinkles
Of crystalized sugary words
Everywhere you go
Traces of sweetness
Meant to tantalize
Everyone the same portion
Of the rich desert of your soul
Little sugar sprinkles
Just a little lick…
Please forgive me
I don’t appreciate
Something that melts so fast
With no staying power
For my ravenous soul
Forgive me
For not fainting with delight
When you and I both know
That only the most decadent
Oozing chocolaty delight
Drizzled in rich caramel
Prepared with me in mind
Will satisfy my mind
And melt in my mouth…
Sweetness with staying power
To be savored bit by wicked bit
Delicious delectable dessert
Of your admiration and delight
Prepared with my taste in mind
Forgive me
If the little sprinkles
You've sweetly left behind
Don’t satiate my soul
Don’t tempt my demanding tongue
Save my share for others
For this woman only dines
On love’s full fantasy feast
With the dessert not meant to share
My very own chocolate ecstasy
Enjoyed ONLY by me
So forgive me…
Forgive me
If I pass
Your little tiny treat
Of sprinkled sugary words
Down there at my feet
Eileen Manassian Ghali
I do enjoy imbibing a vintage libation
now and again (and again, and again)
but when I thought I'd bought
the best bottle of Bordeaux money can buy,
then looked at the label on the back,
before pulling the cork, I nearly had a heart attack.
'Characterised by a great body,' it stated,
'velvety cedar and hazelnut texture,'
but my taste buds went unsated,
'with an intense deep ruby red colour,' to summarise,
'possesses exceptional aromas of cherries,'
and much to my surprise,
'with hints of vanilla, blackcurrant, raspberries,
cassis and tobacco which reveal
a long, chocolaty finish and a good mouth feel.'
Altho' this above-average beverage may in time be fine,
I'm truly convinced no grapes were unduly harmed
in the making of this wine!