Long Stick on Poems
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I burnt myself on a funeral pyre so often
only to rise and melt my wings on ascent
Then I tried Odysseus’ underworld instead
but Ariadne’s thread did not glow in the dark
When my Trojan horse stopped at the Styx
the stamp in my passport refused passage
to an inner Self immolated at the stakes
of bewitched destiny spelled in its charcoal
Ashes and heated smoke screens surrendered
At gun point from an armed barrel I revolved
reincarnation showed no mercy nor fortune
Jesus might have died on the cross but mine
was too difficult to bear and Judas kept calling
The wheel of life had no spokes and no centre
the rim lip continued to fail the kind kiss of life
as much as I tried a rectangular peg in a round whole
I could not square the circuit like a circus clown
in frivolous garments shredded to ragged attire
even the Buddha’s loin cloth slipped from my waist
Wasted I counted a trajectory of celestial promise
and came to realized that Phoenix needed a comet
for a torched body and mind have to settle before
they can fly high above and narrate their own story
As wax waned and polish refused to stick on demand
ember of incendiary destruction warranted new flight
once freezing and fighting rested in smouldering flames
23rd March 2021
two silver spoons,
two completely different people
tied together by children, marriage,
divorce
they shared a home
two decades of life
and then nothing
just children; bound by blood,
broken by each other
they’re in the same room, fingers brushing as they pass each other banners to stick on the walls
i was the first born
the first broken
but the last to arrive at the party
i decorated the cake with him,
putting our beliefs aside to decide where to place the candles
aligned with my mother
but stood with him while she’s in the other room
i was in the middle of every fight
sometimes the cause
but i didn’t choose to be born
so i decorate this cake
two metres from us sit the room i try to forget
we form a circle and talk about our addictions
what we lost
who we lost
i lost my father
and i lost myself
one long before the other
i just can’t figure out who
he has no idea these thoughts are in my head
or that locked room has any more meaning to me than just a locked room
so while we agree where to place these candles
i hear the conversations in my head
i was their marriage counsellor; too young,
too under qualified
now i stand with them
one each side of me;
and they smile at each other or maybe through each other and past each others silhouette to the memories of what they once were
they were married
divorced
one drinks tea
another drinks coffee
i measure the sugar
i pour the milk
i have the urge to clean up their cups
maybe because i couldn’t clean up their marriage
i dry the teaspoons and place them away in the drawer
they are so separate now
but today their used tea spoons sit in the same drawer
i cannot have my mother and father together again
they will now stand in the same room, but not for too long
at least i can lay their spoons together to rest
I have some things to tell you on this our wedding day
Don’t interrupt, just listen, to what I have to say
You’re the soulmate that I searched for, my rock and my best friend
I hope you know that I will love you until the very end
I’d given up on finding love then you came into my life
Now here I am preparing to be your loving wife
You get on so well with both my sister and my brother
If you wonder what I’ll be like in the future, just take one look at my mother
Your bathroom habits leave me speechless and it always makes me frown
Every time you leave the seat up and I have to put it down
You always eat my cooking because you can’t stand waste
My mash could stick on wallpaper and you’d save money not buying paste
I know that every Sunday you like a good home-cooked roast
I always burn the meat to a crisp so we have scrambled eggs on toast
Today is the day that we start our married life
And i look forward to many happy years as your lawful wedded wife
To bring a bit of happiness to my soul
I’ve got to sing along to a little rock n’ roll
Don’t try and tell me it’s all out of date
Elvis is still rocking, Eddie Cochran's' blues were great
When I need to bring rhythm to this body of mine
I listen to the soul of motown it sounds divine
Sweet soul music with a dash of R and B
It brings a smile to my face these classics of history
Just to sweeten up those memories of mine
I’ll play something soft that throws me back in time
Smooching to the music in pure harmony
Takes me to another place romantically
If I want to get funky and really get on down
I put on the Godfather yeah’ James brown
With lots of movements I start to swing
It’s a whole new dance a totally wild thing
Depending on my taste of musical tunes
I'll Play something to ease my musical moods
Because they bring life into my musical soul
I'll stick on that jazz by Nat King Cole
© Copyright KC.Leake
22nd November 2014
All Rights Reserved
Piles upon piles of dust and mold
Gather in a large closet up in the attic,
Where junk of memorabilia resides
Untouched for years as I scan the heap
Of treasures accumulated: a prom's corsage
At 17, shelves of dresses, high-heels that
Tell me now I have grown four sizes larger!
Paperbacks circa 1980, eaten by bugs
from a Literature nerd in grade school...
Journals theater souvenirs looking like
Fossilized antiques from medieval ages,
Along with broken Parker pens and oil
Tubes defying a frustrated artist,
With drawers of lace, beads, threads
As glue guns ( in yellow) stick on interior- design
Folders: then to reach out for music records;
Dollars saved in a jar as a novice in advertising:
Oh the thongs , underwear kept in cedar boxes--
A vision of dates with sleek metro princes,
Discoing on till they turn into wimpy frogs...
How chlorine scent jams my nostrils as I clear
The unwanted pile-- mounds of pile that
Stain my dingy face my hair a rocker's mop.
Die as I flood you with ammonia !
Not the keepsakes...but those stinking fungi!
3/2/2017
Unwanted Guest Contest
Sponsored by Shadow Hamilton
Oh gosh, what memories pancakes brings back to me …
As a child I used to make them every week for my dad
He adored them but I never ate them! It’s been many years since I made them
Lets see if I can remember the recipe for the batter
Carefully weigh out 4 oz plain flour, add in ¼ teaspoon salt
Sieve this into a bowl. Make a well in the center
Then carefully add three medium sized eggs
Do make sure they are fresh and you scoop out any bits of shell
You don’t want to find anything crunchy in your pancakes!
Use a hand whisk or electric whisk to incorporate the eggs then
Gradually add ½ pint milk (or milk and water combined)
Whisk until you have a silky smooth batter with no lumpy bits
Now the important thing is to put the batter in the fridge
Leave it to rest as long as possible ideally at least ½ hour
Then you need a medium sized frying pan, drizzle in a little cooking oil
Heat the pan until it is fairly hot but not smoking
You don’t want to have clouds of acrid smoke and have to ring the fire brigade!
Pour in a little of the batter It will start to sizzle and splutter
Tip the pan to spread the batter and make a thin coating
Cook until the underside of the pancake is golden brown
And the top is covered with bubbles
Now comes the fun bit…
You can simply flip the pancake over to cook the other side
BUT if you are daring you can try tossing it in the air …
hoping it doesn’t stick on the ceiling!
Disaster can strike if the pancake misses the pan and ends up on the floor…
I was never brave and always flipped the pancake over
Once the pancake is golden brown on both sides slide it onto a warm plate
My dad always ate them sprinkled with sugar and zesty lemon juice
But you can use any topping you desire even savoury ones
Dad would roll his pancake and eat it in slices
Whilst he was eating the first pancake
I would continue cooking until the batter was used up
I’d make sure I added a little oil before cooking each one
You don’t want them to stick
If you are making a batch of pancakes you can cover them
Put them in a warm oven until you have finished making them all
Enjoy!
Contest:-Didactic Food
Sponsor: Tammy Reams
10~07~15
I don't know why-
Let me just try-
Our Seasons come
And for no reasons
They dry
Our Times come
And for true reasons
They change
Our Opportunities come
And for more reasons they turn
When seasons end
Its hard to know
For
We cant let go of them
Even when they cease to rain
We still think they reign
We badly want them to remain
So we carry the pain
This pain
We however
Get used of the laughter
We fail to see the shattered
Routes
We stick on the passed path
We expect the last rain drop
However we drop
drop
And drop
drop
we become
The
Drop
We
Cry for the lost
Even when nothing is left
Left to cheer on
Our nature remains
We want started seasons to stay
For reasons we clearly cant say
we get fond of former seasons each day
And postpone later ones meant for us to praise
We stick to the path
Meant for our past
We stay lost
In love never found
We all do
Love the same routines
Cry for the same people
Fight for the same things
Same seasons
Same reasons
When a season ends
We cling on its memories
And before we know
A new season is wrecking away
When love ends
We stick on the same pleas
And before we know
A flesh love is breaking away
A new song grows old
A new job gets boring
A new friendship stinks
Just because our past
We dearly hold
Shadows haunt us
Our future goes captive
Our past reigns
We still go analog
Still hold on the bulk junk in our memories
Just because digital is costly
We still pay our treasures to our past
Our precious tears fall
Just because our hearts still cling on..
To people who came in our lives
For specific reasons
And for one
Season
A
Stand
Up
Season
Our great fears
Just became our masters
We don't know
Where our courage went
That strength to wipe the tears away
To love
Again
And Again
And again
Till
The
Rain
We
All
Long
To
Hold
Has
Finally
Fallen
Our
Love
Has
Finally
Grown
To
That
Of
The
Cross
Form:
In photo albums of the past,
The pictures stayed in place
With little stick-on corners
That today you can’t replace.
The albums after that had pages
That you had to lift;
The photos rested under plastic,
‘Til they’d start to shift.
I have a bunch of those, with pages
Turning brown or loose.
Instead of getting them in shape,
I find a good excuse.
When I’m no longer here, those pictures
Likely will get tossed.
Those moments captured by a lens
Will finally be lost.
So even if my albums are
Intact, with full repair,
I seem to be the only person
Who might really care.
My recent photographs are kept
In books I make online.
I choose the backgrounds and the fonts –
Each masterpiece is mine.
But someday they will, too, be gone
As memories do fade.
Until that time, my albums all
Are front-row-seat displayed.
Your face over candles and crystals
Your scent I smell, stick on murals
Finger prints of you over metals
Turning hard to soft like petals
I saw you kneeling when you prayed
Behind you was I and stayed
I can hear your soft voice unafraid
Wishing for a cat unbraid
The candles you litted inside the church
Served as my lights when you left
Your shoe prints on the aisle I search
Vanished like air without a cleft
I sat down for a while
Wishing you would come back
Minutes later you came back
Walking like Immortal over the scratched aisle
Middle aisle of the church so old
With you turning anything like gold
Your prayers are like magic so bold
Reviving with warmth everything around so cold
My immortal is in you that calls
My body and soul that falls
Wished you can be mine someday
Dreaming you're all mine all day!
i see a popsicle stick on the ground
a broken 45 is right near the old tree
i pick up one both pieces of the 45 out of curiosity
TORN BETWEEN TWO LOVERS
i shake my head for that song is such a gem
i see a penny head up on the asphalt
a broken 78 is right beside it with something sticky on it
i pick up the ant covered 78 because i am a nosy music buff
I'M MOVIN' ON
i roll my eyes at the complete disrespect for such a classic
i see time has turned into a hot rod electric powered
every now and then she stops to recharge
i flirt with her slowly, but she is not having it
ambrosia consumes my thought process as i remove my mask
BeforeHand and her giving heart is not the BIGGEST PART OF ME