In the calm of evening's hush, a storm descends,
Electric charge in the air, a dance of shadows blend.
As I place my dinner in the microwave's gentle hum,
A flicker, a spark, and darkness comes.
The lights go out, a sudden shroud of night, Inconvenience strikes, a fleeting blight.
In this temporary loss of light,
A moment to pause, to reflect, to sit tight.
Amidst the silence, a chaos storm unfurls,
Nature's fury unleashed, the power of the world.
As I wait, in stillness and in darkness,
I find a different kind of calm.
For in this darkness, a quietude is found,
A reminder of the fragility that surrounds.
The simple act of microwaving my meal,
Now a dance with nature's hidden appeal.
So as the storm rages, and the lights remain out,
I find solace under candle light, a peaceful hum so I write.
A poetry of inconveniences, a lesson to heed,
In moments of disruption, there's still beauty to feed.
Categories:
microwaving, natural disasters,
Form: Rhyme
Eight billion years
it has taken the fast radio burst
to travel from an unknown where
to here.
A millisecond of energy
that defies rational explanation.
The universe may be microwaving
a bowl of popcorn,
a bowl twice the size of Sol,
but are we a show worth watching?
Categories:
microwaving, journey, life, universe,
Form: Free verse
The city sings its song,
luring me to belong
to an orchestra of many faces,
living within tight places,
an efficiency on the tenth floor
where I hear my neighbors snore,
smells of spaghetti and garlic bread
linger throughout hallway making me dread
microwaving a T.V. dinner with plastic
reminding me of my uncomfortable gastric
indigestion which lasts for a day
and finally goes away and does not stay.
The city sings its song
to me who steps along
on its dirty sidewalks with cracks,
being weed-free it lacks,
rushing to catch a taxi or bus,
waving away and making a fuss,
I am in a perpetual hurry.
like a busy-body squirrel in a scurry,
all my self-importance doesn't matter,
looking at my watch only to splatter
on the city pavement when hit by a car,
eventually leaving the hospital with a long scar.
as the city sings its song,
it is truly about all the things gone wrong.
Categories:
microwaving, city,
Form: Rhyme
A can of coke and a good book to read
Sitting in the sunshine embracing my greed
The sun's beaming rays piercing my skin
Microwaving my internal organs from within
My sanctuary from daily life is here
The worries of the day disappear
Feet up and entwined in this non fiction book
As if I’m caught on a grappling hook
I love my garden believe it or not
It’s a sun trap with no blind spot
Drinking my coke with ice and lime
Enjoying the peace in my spare time
Spare time is something we are deprived of
Trying to avoid the swing of life’s boxing glove
My garden is my part time sanctuary
My little house on the prairie
Categories:
microwaving, identity, me,
Form: Rhyme
It’s been a while since the Christmas of my youth.
Some things it seems have gone away -
Cookie cutters, hot cocoa, and an angel
are three not with me today.
Yes, Mama would get her cookie cutters out
How I loved to help make the dough.
We’d bake, then frost them, but these days,
everyone’s too much on the go!
People just go buy sweets at the grocery store.
Even hot cocoa’s instant too.
What happened to its simmering on the stove?
Microwaving is all we do!
What happened to giving out homemade cookies
as we caroled from door to door,
then having cocoa with melted marshmallows
floating on top like I adore?
And last of all, what happened to the angel
who orchestrated all of this?
My mother, once so young and filled with vigor.
Oh, how I miss my Christmas bliss!
Dec. 5, 2017 for Kim Rodrigues' Christmas Rhyme Contest
Categories:
microwaving, christmas, nostalgia,
Form: Rhyme
This will blow your mind -
My Breakfast Potato - mmmm
Culinary skills!
Memories of you
Is like microwaving food -
Jam-packed with sweet carbs...
Threw butter in pan...
It sizzles...in yellow bliss!
Future food doused too
Baked some potatoes
I am a creative cook
Geek from head to toe
Sprinkled it with eggs
Lotsah cheese and lotsah spice
Then, topped with sour cream
I did the cookin'
I broke both legs, making it -
Father in trainin'
Washed pans, stove-ready
Made eggs to perfection - RAD
A nat'ral cook - mmmm!
Breathe in and breathe out
Get ready for bizarre plates -
Spread butter on toast!
It's time to dine fine
Expect the unexpected -
Clean slate on platter
I'm scorching in flame
I'm a burnt potato...true...
Turning to ash...lame...
Creativity
Is required to make delish! (A delicious dish)
This hobby thrills...all... (Meaning we like cooking or we like tasting food)
Categories:
microwaving, deep, food,
Form: Senryu
Hungrier than a wolf pack hunkering down the hill
A lpha teen male footballers share microwaving kill
Meat tonight they smell and enough to go around
Burgers make them happy and they munch with humming sounds
Under meat they peek to see if pickles thrill the palate
Grudgingly they toss the greens that try to pose as salad
Eating is a joy-- onion ketchup mustard gourmet mess
Running down their faces is a combination guess.
Categories:
microwaving, allegory, food, football,
Form: Acrostic
How can it be history,
when the pain leaves me breathless?
Iron past that wrings my lungs
soaked heavy in sorrow
until that mysterious liquid escapes from my eyes.
How can it be past,
when the darkness becomes my shadow?
Harassing smiles and reminding pleasure
that there is no vacancy
within.
How can it be over
when I am covered in those moments?
Microwaving a frozen dinner,
collapsing on the floor with grief
my cat a solitary witness
to this complexity of living.
Categories:
microwaving, death,
Form: Free verse
Cooking my baked beans
Microwaving daydreams
Financing future, slipping credit schemes
Federal imperial medals- the real deal
All in a bite sized, one time only
All in nicely packages holiday embrace
Cooking my daydreams
Microwaving circuitry
Its time for a megatape rewind
Its about time for an unscripted recline
To sit in armchairs and gather dust
Scraping these walls for elbow and rust
Just cooking my baked beans
Microwaving daydreams
Get the toxicology report
Get the electrojet sanity retort
Shopoholics anonymous consuming floorboards
Get them back in a behaving round-up sort
Cause I'm cooking
A daytripper redundancy
Microwaving skeletal seams
Storing appetite for later dreams
Categories:
microwaving, business, confusion, time, time,
Form: Free verse
Maybe its cold in the ember's heart...
maybe a snowflake has a soul
but we're born to label everything
as "this" or "that".
A pack of pill worshiping ogres,
must get to the front of the liners.
Microwaving dreams before they arrive...
dinner served hot on the outside
cold in the middle(sound familiar?)
We think we've discovered every color-
every emotion undressed-audience of one
That we're better than a snail, a bowl of apples
or prosthetic star,
but we really have less depth than a primate nest-
or spider web.
We're not really
anchored to anybody or anything...
depite the poppers and confetti,
the skyscrapers and relativity.
We're only good at watching our neighbors...
being alone within our alone(like clown vapour).
Maybe god is'nt above or below,
or great afterall.
maybe he's a novice at creatiing happiness,
always a work in progress
(like a juvenile **** star).
Maybe god is a rusty pop tab
a subterranean windchime
maybe god isn't anything,
maybe god is adrift in our hopeless dream.
Maybe its cold in the ember's heart...
maybe a snowflake has a soul?
Categories:
microwaving, fantasy, philosophy, god, god,
Form: Free verse