Long Pretzels Poems
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To Eat A Peach
Spring is here.
The delicate tree blossoms replace
the delicate white lights of Winter.
From the petals fruit will grow.
Pears, plums, apricots, cherries,
nectarines...
Peaches.
I set the unripe soft rose and yellow
orb on the windowsill.
Two days later I tenderly lift it
and gently squeeze its warmth before
I wash it.
Biting into it...
the sweet liquid is Ambrosia.
The juice runs down my chin onto
my tee.
I greedily suck the peach’s flesh dry.
I daydream as I munch.
Peach cobbler, peach pie with a lattice crust,
peach shortcake, peach muffins,
stewed peaches, peach tea bread,
slices on your cereal, slices in a bowl with cream.
OR...only for dessert?
How would a
chicken breast soaked in a peach marinade taste?
My taste buds begin chattering.
Summer’s here!
corn on the cob, okra, tomatoes:
small ones that pop in your mouth
and big beefy wedges that
garnish crisp celery slices, carrot medallions,
tender Bibb lettuce, sliced mushrooms, cucumbers,
asparagus, broccoli, Vidalia onions, cauliflower...
Watermelon, blueberries, cantaloupe,
strawberries, honeydews, raspberries...
Juicy hot dogs, spicy barbecue, thick charbroiled hamburgers,
hot German potato salad, 3-bean salad, macaroni salad,
potato chips and French onion soup dip,
soft pretzels dipped in brown mustard, popcorn...
chocolate chip cookies, Snickerdoodles,
strawberry shortcake,
chocolate cake with red, white and blue frosting for the 4th,
apple pie
— softball, Mom, doggies —
I awake with a start. There is drool
on my pillow.
Another day begins but it’s really
not another day.
It’s the same day I’ve been living
since 1 May 2017 ~
The day I let the dentist pull
out the last 5 teeth I had
in my lower jaw.
And as I come to consciousness
my tongue pushes
against and spills out over the
the soft toothless tissue that burns constantly
and is covered in a thick gooey saliva ~ place a
teaspoon of Elmer's
glue in your mouth ~ if
you care to have a taste
of my reality.
Summer’s here.
Clear your palate.
Clean your plate.
Barbara Dickenson
1 May 2018
- [ ]
I looked at the room broken bottles blood fragments of clothes.
maybe a tooth from somebody not fast are to drunk to get outta the way of a conversation
turned bad.
The juke box had almost made it threw but it just had to
play that one song that caused it to become a target
for a flying cue ball.
And I herd someone speaking to the toilet I thought maybe
I wasnt that hungry after all.
As to what caused the riot slash the human tornado of fun I cannot say
But in my opinion that jukebox had it coming always playing the wrong songs at the right
time no one likes a smartass.
And that drag queen could sure throw a mean left hook.
While looking fierce and lip sinking to madonna at the same time that my friends take true
talent .
Seems as though the register had went on vacation but they
left the wild turkey and pretzels thank god happy hour was almost apon us.
And theres nothing worse than telling a proffesional drinker as myself
theres no snacks it's like tellinga kid theres no santa claus.
And that big fat guy in the red suit with his little dwarfs
were really just some of momies friends.
I always wondred why santa was so into getting the crap beat outta him
by a woman in a latex outfit calling herself mistress Claus.
Yes coffee always made things better mixed with some of my personal corn whiskey yeah
grandpa may went insane and herd voices from drinking the stuff but at least he always had
someone to talk to.
As I looked at the chaos that was my headquarters memories came to me in a flood the
booth were I met my first wife.
that same booth were i caught her with my best friend and worst enemy and santa i swear
he gets around.
So much for online dating dam you napster.
I should just stick with street walkers and circus people.
And I think after my tweenty first DUI
that it was good i never had a license to start with.
cause i really hate losing anything.
It's a shame about my mind.
So really other than this little get togather turned riot turned
love in turned back to brawl turned into
big kid slumber party.
It was after the jukebox had to put in it's two cents
that it all turned to .
For nothing kills the mood worse than a bad song
at the right time.
Love always Dr Gonzo
Sweet memories of Norma
Come shining through
There are just so many
And I’d like to share a few
We’ve been very best friends
For about fifty three years
Through the ups and downs
With lots of laughter and some tears
She has really been like
A dear sister to me
I’m even called Aunt Susan
By most of her family
In her life she has had
Her share of difficulties
Going through tough times,
Illnesses and some disabilities
But with her positive spirit
And being a cheerful person
She has always had a joyful heart
That she shared with everyone
As a single mom she worked so hard
To raise her children and make a family
And even when they were all grown
They were always her top priority
We worked and lived together
Back some time ago
Even when things got hectic
She always seemed so mellow
With any blockage in her path
She found an opened door
She always loved the bible
And Christian music she’d adore
Norma liked to take road trips
And to her, the special one
Was seeing the beautiful mountains
On a trip to Washington
She always had a hobby
To sew, crochet or knit
And with her special crafts
She was indeed most artistic
She was always able to make
So many wonderful things
By using her inventive mind
She created beauty out of nothing
She enjoyed good food
And always liked to cook
And some of her mom’s recipes
She put in a handmade cookbook
Yellow roses and chocolate pretzels
Were things she liked the best
But her grandchildren and loving pets
Were better than the rest
Though she was a little stubborn
Some folks just might say
For speaking her mind of what she believed
But we loved her that way
She was always there for Gracie
By her side so close
And being Dustin’s champion
Her heart desired the most
She kept a constant vigilance
Sitting out in the hot sun
Watching over their damaged home
Of what the tornado had done
Being outdoors was second nature
With her skin tone you could tell
Her natural beauty was clear to see
And she had great legs as well
A unique kind of soul
With no one to even compare
Always making us laugh
And giving more than she could spare
Dedicated to Norma Lee Ekstrom
Written by Florence McMillian (Flo)
G;Geico commercials B;(you knew this was coming); Billy Mays commercials U;
hour long imfomercials
G;Big, juicy homemade hamburgers B;White Castle belly burners
G; Best fast food place;by far;All American, Massapequa N.Y. (check it on web-
always, and rightfully rated number one B-white Castles (ugh;belly burners!)
G; Music played with syyle and heart B; Gangster rap/ Disco
G;Family gatherings B;Alone in a dingy room
G;A nice warm shower B; Having no showerhead
G;Staring at TV test patterns for hours (told ya I was weird) B; Gamey game
shows
G;A nice warm sunny day B;Heavy rain and your roof leaks
G;Creativity B;Malicious destruction(other than a Billy Mays tape)
G;Cooking and eating with family /and/or friends B;Alone with a bag of pretzels
G;Enjoying swimming at the beach or pool B;finding a great white shark in your
pool
G;Words of love and encouragement B;Mean words of anger/hate
G;Good poetry B;My poetry usually
G;Peaceful sleep all through the night B;Cronic insomnia U;Being awake for 8
days (as I too well know...one's mind turns into oatmeal)
G;a love of beauty B;Loving your own beauty
G;swiss or cheddar cheese B;Limberger cheese U;Liederkranz (ugh! clear the
house!!)
G;A full refrigerator (including Tootsie rolls) B;A rerigerator full of food expired 6
months ago, and now home to strange new species
G;Catching a mouse B;doing the same, but with your teeth
G;Courteous drivers B;New Jersey drivers
G;Religious faith B; Fundamentalist extremists (of any religion)
G;Room deodorizer. B;Dirty unwashed socks your air deodorizer
G;A trusting marriage B;A busting marriage
G;Acoustic guitars B; Acoustic torpedoes
G;M&Ms B;BBs
G;good books used as tools B;Mediocre books by fools
G;Cleavage B;Seepage
G;Being in a band onstage B;Overfilled audiences leading to rage
G;Jessica Simpson's looks B;Jessica Simpson's mental acumen
G;Eddie Murphy on stage or screen B;Eddie Murphy in real life (I know!)
G;Being loved and adored B;Being lonely and too bored
G;Some money in your pocket B;Your finger in a socket
G;For Bush to get a Lobotomy B; News of Bush's colonoscopy
Enough for now folks. Have a painless day!
She was the sparkle at the heart of it
The love we all shared
I don’t remember a day that passed by,
without her friendly smile or wink of her eye.
We lost Hildie in the spring of last year
And now we find, we are losing the very thing she held so dear
Our beloved IND, The Institue of Norte Dame
Our Grand Lady the Oldest Girls Prep school in the Country is closing its doors one last time at the end of this term.
She has stood vigilant for 173 years, and educated us all.
A testament to our City, our State and our Great Nation.
As the bombs of the Civil War fell in the background and reverberated through her halls, her classes went on for the students whom she loved so well.
IND Graduates include Nancy Pelosi, the First Woman Speaker of the House AND Current Speaker of the House.
The Former Senator, Barbara Mikulski from the State of Maryland,
My Mothers cousin Adele Wilzack former Secretary of Health for the State of Maryland .
From the very first day, Hildie was there at the door
With a friendly hello and a smile that was warm.
If you needed new pencils or something more
Sister Hildie was there, she ran the bookstore.
She watched as we grew a silent witness to all that we learned
Our Pin days, Ring Days, Proms, Plays and the like
Graduation with long stemmed red roses and we were all dressed in white.
She was our official cheer squad at basketball games, Hildie was there
She knew EVERYONES NAMES
She even sold pretzels during our lunch breaks.
If you came early or stayed a bit late and needed some help
Hildie was there and didn’t hesitate.
To our friend and confidant,
I pray for her and for US ALL.
Our loss is profound.
It’s difficult to think,
She won’t be around.
I pray for our Students, Alumni, Teachers, Parents, Families and Friends
Of our Grand Lady, IND
Hildie loved us all so very much.
Kimberly Sikorski
Class of 1983
And this bit added to be part of the contest ....
Dorothea,
Dorothea may mean “ Gift from God,“
But Heaven broke the mold when they created Sister Hildie
Written May 17, 2020
For Poem about a Nun
terrible two
is a ninja turtle
she spins her
little play broom
like a fighting stick
and charges
grandpa shark
faints and dodges
she reels back
gives him a whack
and he cries like a villain
terrible two
triumphantly giggles
terrible two
won't eat anything
he makes
she demands
yummy bunny pasta
for breakfast
to his surprise
grandpa shark actually
finds them quite tasty
grandpa shark
sits in a lawn chair
under a swing set and pushes
buzz light year's girlfriend
for an hour
higher
terrible two orders
higher she screams
to infinity and beyond
terrible two
still in her ninja pajamas
must get dressed
to go to the park
no
not your green velvet
Christmas dress
grandpa shark
sells her on
pink Minnie Mouse T
and blue denim shorts
(sometimes he wins)
snack packs
two bottles of water
and a fresh pull up
(just in case)
in her chariot
she climbs
and they're off for
a long stroll
through suburbia
saying hi to every dog
it's walker
every bird
and every jogger
until she jumps out
and runs for the swings
(not more swings)
then the jungle gym ganglia
of climby things
all leading to
the gigantic tube slide
where he catches her
until she's tired
she chugs a water bottle
dry
and polishes off
her stuffed pretzels
on the softest grass
under the cool shade
of the biggest tree
they lie
her soft rosy cheek
pressed on his chest
I love you Grandpa
I love YOU
no, I love YOU
she points her
tiny finger
in his face
tickles and giggles
under that big old tree
grandpa shark
reflects in the dark
their time in the park
and feels lucky
to have his terrible two
and sad as the
man in the moon
to leave her
as the road passes
beneath him
he remembers another
terrible two clutching
his fingers from
her car seat behind him
as they drove through
the silent night
he smiles fondly at the
big lunar light
leading him home
that let's him know
wherever he goes
his terrible twos
will always
be with him
Lascivious Friends Amends
Coincidence, simultaneity, with a pinch of merriment
And convergence of moments, opened up this gate to hell
(I had to open the door…didn't I ?…)
It was at their convenience, not mine
Cursed by fate, unwanted visitors, (I forget their names.)
I only knew them as fornicators
The lascivious friends, (Not mine. I inherited them.)
Converged on me, a wild pack of hungry hyenas
Yelping, laughing, “Where’s the food!”
Kissing and slobbering all over themselves
Antique furniture and glass began to shatter from their antics
We were all mutual friends of Jack
I wish he’d take them back
They originated, I suspected, speculated
From unknown depths, bottom feeders, society leaches
The underbelly of low life
As synchronicity would have it, in its awful syn-chronic manner
I had to face them, entertain them, could not escape them
Had to be a proper host
A host in the true sense of the word
The parasites took hold of me
Bled me dry of all my food and drink
Did I mention that they stink…or is it stank?
Nearly bending me in half down to their lowly level
They implored me, no, they insisted on more and more
There were four of them who strained my will
Two men, two woman, as they proclaimed aristocracy
I drove off to the store to get them more
When I returned with beer and snacks
They asked me for a favor
To stay forever as they unpacked
I said, is doomsday a good starting date?
They laughed
I called the girls, Jane and Jane
The boys I called Bob and Bob since I did not know their names
And they did not care what I called them
As long as they could stay
Jack, my roommate, was out of town
He would not return
His parents didn't raise a dummy
They trained him well
I was stuck with a couple of nameless Jane’s
And Bob and Bob. Let’s call them double Bob’s
The lascivious ones were here to stay
Debauchery all the way
They will have to live on beer and pretzels
As I await doomsday and pray it comes today
9/23/14 Poems or new magazine please - Poetry Contest
Sizzling Surprises
I’m ruminating here on this promenade of sizzling surprises.
I’m sitting here, watching the living denizens walk on by.
None of these sentient beings ever look at me,
Never see or acknowledge me, not for one second,
Never say even one word to me, as I sit half dead here,
On this hardened beaten park bench.
Just watching and wondering why the heck they don’t look at me.
Ah, there’s a young lady, just sat down across from me,
On the bench over there, a dozen purposeful strides away.
Hey honey, look over here. I’m an old dude still walking the earth;
You know, like you and everyone else; I’m just looking at you,
I mean no harm, really. Just checking you out, as a half-dead man would,
Desperately, with no conscience or inward analysis.
Just looking at your slender svelte legs, crossed like pretzels in the sun,
And I am thinking and wondering why you don’t look at me.
Is it because I’m an old dude, with one foot in the grave?
Is it because you’re afraid to encounter another human being, face to face?
A human who has seen the fortunes and misfortunes of a long life.
A human man who can create a masterpiece of sizzling surprises,
Just for you, all in a matter of five astonishing minutes!
Oh, for God’s sake!
Stop staring at your cellphone and look over here, just for ten seconds!
I’m an old dude still walking the earth,
And I could teach you a thing or two about living,
About connecting and responding and empathizing,
About turning your mono-vision away from yourself, and your narcissism.
Just for ten seconds, try to see the loneliness of another sentient being;
You know, like me and everyone else here; I’m just looking at you,
I mean no harm, really. Just want to connect, as I once did with the young ladies,
Long ago under this same sizzling sun, up there,
Long ago when I sought those same sizzling surprises that I seek now,
And the sucking maelstrom of intense pleasures I could conjure up for you,
All in a matter of five astonishing minutes!
(a flash fiction piece)
My brother (Brice) left university, 6 months ago, like millions of other students, to shelter from COVID. After years away Mr. Annoying was back in MY world, bickeringly close and way too frequently in my business - like some half-assed adult (he just turned 22).
As school planning recently started though, I awoke one night, unnerved at the thought that he might be leaving. It was a shocking awakening to how much I need him, draw strength from him and shelter in his lee. The heart-wrenching realization of how much I would miss him was breathtaking, like that Disney ride where they suddenly drop you seven stories. I bit off half my fingernails before I finally fell asleep. =/
In the clear light of morning, it's obvious that he’ll leave again at some point and I'm dreading it now that it's flagged my awareness - and I face him with a whole new, creepy appreciation.
Yesterday afternoon...
Brice is on the sectional, with a bowl of pretzels, watching some BORING documentary.
I sneak up behind him and take his drink off the side table.
I plop down next to him - very close, I squeeze next to him, hard, like there’s no other room on the huge sectional. He gives me the side eye.
Me: “What??”
After a few minutes he reaches for his drink to find it missing - he looks around, then at me.
Me: With a mouth full of pretzels, “What??”
He gets up to find his drink (which I put in the kitchen) and that takes about 20 seconds.
While he’s gone, I change the channel to “Miraculous Ladybug”, my favorite cartoon.
When he comes back we wrestle for the remote - it takes him a couple of minutes but he’s too strong and as he begins winning, I yelled, “MOM, Brice is hurting me!” (which was cruelly ignored).
He finally gets the remote and back to his show - I straighten my hair, out of breath, and wonder how long it will take him to realize the pretzels are missing.
a notarized copy of this testament
is on file with my attorney
in case of my untimely unearthing
by the invisible background
driving another stake through my lactating heart
but back to our comatose semiotic narrative
The Eel king rips off Bobby's latex facade
at last I have you captive Bandwidth
Bobby prepared to submit to his doom
the tendrils of the hideous Orchids on the Porch
feel their way into his crotch
humid vistas from the Matto Grosso
panned before his eyes
ars pharmacopia little muffin went Eel
now for your loving torment
Bobby was dragged to the Cistern of Woe
by a busload of nuns from St. Vagina
and tied into one of Escher's inhibition pretzels
above a pit of human eyeballs
Bobby had a plan murky at first
but with a blurred urgency that unveiled
his guardian cosmetician's skin graft
from the last epic rescue
it had finally healed abused and maligned
tho still on oxygen or was it toxigen
no one knew much less the narrator
too harried by fate for detail work
but I digress to a distressing degree
Bobby stared into the cesspool of his mind
illumined now by a wan spark of hope
he would gambit judiciously
the ancient and terrible pherome defense
as the squish of rain forest footsteps
and little gasps of manual stimulation came closer
it was Lemona the Eel King's daughter
a beauty that all the aniline dyes in the jungle
could not extinguish in waterfall's fog
he was instantly detrousered by
her steam engine of debauchery
within seconds her tongue
was down his throat to the car park
he heard the bell in her navel
and grazed like a sheep
the Eel King became visibly alarmed
contain your infantile carnality
insistent pride of my loins
to be continued
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/