Long Wooden spoon Poems

I can feel the heat raging inside me and sweat purging out of my flesh, it is a sudden sensation that comes upon me that leaves me grasping for breath. The sun has just risen...

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Childhood memories,making camps upon the moors
 wriggling through the bracken deep,
Making paths to our secret den.
Climbing trees,and falling too!
Moss on stones, glistening sun on stepping stones,
Swimming in the river...with a shiver.

Roly poly down the hill,...

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Sometimes she would laugh.
Sometimes she would cry.

    her worries
she would never
                 complicate
    ...

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Grab a wooden spoon, and choose a mixing bowl
A breakfast that is piping hot is worth its weight in gold!
You can make them by the dozens, or one or two will do
Make them for your...

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A solitary man
I make my way up the mountain
One step at a time
The life I know further and further behind
I wish to be alone
away from the busyness 
the incessant noise
my many responsibilities
life’s never ending activities
work...

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A sweet aroma is coming from the kitchen, but I don’t know what is actually cooking but the sweet spicy scent perfume the atmosphere sending up a dust storm in the air, and the wind...

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Wisdom Tree

A solitary man
Makes his way up the mountain
One step at a time
The life he knows further and further behind
He wishes to be alone
Away from the busyness 
The noise
Responsibility
Activity 
Work that is never done
Conflict
The need...

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I stand, waiting, out of the dappled sun light.
Listening to the hollow timpani that is my 
stomach, the adrenalin coursing 
through my chest, telling me 'its time'

My neuronal switch 'clicks'. I am no longer
inert, I...

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To a birthday party I was invited, 
as an 11 year old I should have been excited.
I really didn't want to go,
the people there I didn't really know.

The day arrived and mum drove me there,
I...

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A click, click 

and the burner lights

tonight

I am not going anywhere 

but the end of the hall where

the broken fluorescent light

can help me cook and write


A red frothy sauce bursts, hot steam

rising up, mist over

a...

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TRIP TO DREAMLAND

       A vacation trip to calm salient suburb overwhelmed me in childhood. We stayed in in Grand Mom’s house covering large rea with huge garden to face...

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He loomed large, his white t-shirt bulging, 
his apron hanging off an impressive gut.  
“Keep stirring,” he said, 
slapping me on my back as he wandered off.  
Over his shoulder, “Just keep stirring.”...

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When I was just a very young boy
About six or maybe seven years old
I tortured my teacher in the classroom
By never doing what I was told.

They didn’t have any classification
At the time to put me...

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     When it's soup season on Poetry Soup
     Ingredients are in large selection
     Creamy chicken soup is yummy
     for...

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You are the stuff my culinary dreams are made of.
Unending shapes and sizes.
From skinny linguini to the rounded orecchiette 
and squiggly fusilli.
As my tongue tastes morsels of your saucy tubular goodness,
I compose a rhyme of...

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As I draw back the needle
that familiar smell of alcohol
takes me back through the years
this cloudy substance
swirls like the emotions of mind

...I remember the smell
of rubbing alcohol as it mingled
amidst the scents of applesauce
cooking atop...

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I... thought Santa was cool,
Until he came into the house.
The old fart was pissed an swearing,
And what we saw, even killed my mouse.

He fell through the chimney,
On the embers in the fire place.
In colourful words...

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I went out for a nanty narking time
Wearing my best gas pipes and tie
Hanging with whooperups at the pub
Lally-gagging with girls going by

I met the jammiest bit of jam, I did
She was bang up to...

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Here’s the story of a witch, good instead of bad.
No matter that she’s ugly as a troll.
She loves children and their innocence.
Protecting children, therefore, is her goal.

Unable to bear children,
the mother of the Troll-witch visited
a...

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I have one memory of my father
Who was not my dad
There was a father,
he left.
There was no dad.
There were men who tried to be.
There were men who could’ve tried to be.

There were, perhaps, men who...

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The Search

I push my neck beyond its reach,
contort my achy back; lower my 
face til it’s horizontal to the 

pocked wood floor. With an ants 
view of the world, like a miner I 
prospect; small...

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??I watched TV from 8:35, 
Until I saw Stargazing Live,  
Which told me about the dive. 

It got cold and dark, 
It was the movement’s mark; 
It was phenomenal, worth a remark.  

I...

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Social conscious, the brain behind the hand,
it’s wooden spoon ready  to smack the non-conforming adult /s/,child/ren.
Driven by western views of political correctness,
it dictates how we should be and what we should become.

Weaving its web...

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When the world seems chaotic and I don't know how much more I can take
I find a quiet place to think and decide on what to make

Creating something new and adding only the magic that...

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Villanelle: Break not chains Sartre hooked on ankles in disdain

Break not chains Sartre hooked on ankles in disdain
No Lawrence outsider sups with wooden spoon
Don’t bitter gruel course through low coolie-lines vein

One thing’s to espouse the...

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