I fired a hot and steaming bun
with an isotope of cinnamon,
no longer into people making,
my attention turned to baking.
“The Ways We Measure”
by Positive Mark
A kitchen seems to have the same eternity as an empty notebook page.
It’s a place where one can conjure a comforting spell, even if he’s not world renowned for cooking well.
So let us rethink the ways we measure results.
A notebook is an object of art
Where the secret notes is hidden
Diaries is written, too personal
Journals is counting daily routine
Too special, full cover decors
After which is beautifully used
Hidden in secret place you only knew
When time of joy, inspire and sadness
This notebook reveal as litanies
Of emotions, fun and laughter release
And when all the life is truly dealt
This notebook becomes a memento of time
Once read again and again as part
Of biography and anecdotes of your life.
I still see my mother
sitting at the kitchen table
copying out her favorite recipes
from the Women’s Weekly magazine.
With pen in hand,
she’d carefully write the recipe,
word for word in her notebook.
There are hundreds that
she collected over the decades.
That notebook, with its dog-eared pages,
crusty stains and side notes,
is now in my hands.
The thing is, I don’t cook—
my other half is the chef in our family.
Now and then, he’ll ask me for
Mom’s notebook to try one of her
secret recipes, although he likes to add
his own twist to it—
it needs a bit of spice, he says.
But nobody beats Mom’s cooking!
Dogs have gone on a romp
This would be okay if I trusted them
I know better
In seconds they are back
They have gone nowhere
Curious to see what I am doing
Beau licks my notebook
Never a good sign
I angle it away from his prying tongue
He has eaten nineteen notebooks already
Notebook
When I shake or
stir my
little notebook I use for
updating my room ideas in she
repeats the word
afresh for
one hour; too she becomes more
determined to
become a
pastry chef; too she craves to
board any ship at sea, but only for
two weeks since
she knows how important her job is. Too we have a
little thing going. We’d miss each
other way too much.
It's here
I dump my thoughtful odes
The words unchecked
As brain downloads
This snow white
Electric paper faux
Is where my heart-felt
Ravings go
I tap, delete
I type and scroll
Construct a rhyme
Pithy and droll
The black on ivory
Stark and crude
To deeper feelings
Will allude
So as this self
Effacing track
Develops with it's
Clicky clack
I meditate
On all before
Invite them in
As if by door
To life and love
To hope and loss
To friendships, new
To birth or cross
With thankful heart
And no disdane
For poet's muse
Doth still remain
MY NOTEBOOK
I have a vehicle
That carries all
My plannings
My happenings
That has all my
Funny secrets..
That has my
Happiness and sadness
Nobody knows about it
I have life
Changing formulae
Inside it...
For me and me only
Everybody wants to open it
Everybody wants to read it...
He drew her ear to their story,
wishing to rouse her memory.
He looked at her as he read her notebook,
trying to change her puzzled look.
He chanted her name every morning,
hoping that it could make a ring
on festive night when they first met,
her cosmic charm stole his breath.
At times they played under the rain,
he planted her inside his brain.
Though she was rich and he was poor,
true love has led him to her door.
The mystic tale of their burning love,
the night they swore on stars above;
He showered her with a true love's kiss;
A kiss that even a flint would miss.
Although they'd part, they'd reconcile,
she'd patch the wound in his smile;
And in the end, they made a vow
to hold on to their love somehow.
And though her memory was gone,
he'd not forget that she's the one;
And though sometimes, he felt so lonely,
he'd loved no one but her, her only.
Together, their time had come to fade,
beside each other, they have laid;
The tale of their love lived forever
for it's inscribed with the glow of their ember.
May 2, 2023
A Brian Strand Premiere No 1214 Poetry Contest (5th place)
Sponsored By: Brian Strand
Before I had a loose leaf
And no spirals were around,
A composition notebook
Would on classroom desks be found.
With their classic black-white covers
In a marbled-type design,
They were owned by every student
Who would fill in every line.
Now, of course, they’re kind of retro
And they come in every hue
So the covers have these swirls of white
With red or green or blue.
I’m now writing in a mini-one
Which makes me reminisce
About my schoolgirl days
When I would print in books like this.
Notebook
Blank pages ruffle in the wind
I don’t know what I’m writing, I just know I must begin.
Every word is written down, who cares what It says
I take the opportunity to clear my crowded head.
Happy or sad, I release all my thoughts
Jotting down everything I’ve ever been taught.
Good or bad it has to be said
Whether it makes me happy or makes me turn red.
I love my notebook because it doesn’t judge
It accepts what I give and then gives me a nudge.
I don’t worry what others say, I’m not doing it for you
I’m clearing my head to make space for new thoughts to come through.
Writing Challenge - 'N' Words
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Not too many folks today use notebooks, I suppose.
Older folks like me would use them all the time
To take notes or do homework in. Essays too I’d compose.
Even for journaling, I’d buy cute ones from the five and dime.
But today I generally use
Only a few of them; like one for organizing lists;
One for poetry! I get my pen and write in it – inspired by my muse.
Keeping poems I work on in a notebook is my habit that persists.
March 23, 2023
for Writing Challenge - 'N' Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
My life so pleasant at times
others, toil in life's turmoil,
lines in a notebook in hand.
Hidden words wash over me
free flowing with emotion
reigning ideas, digging
in deep in my inner soul.
Retrieving an e l e g y
writing for the losses gone.
Those exact right freedom words
expressing feeling in lines,
an artist, but with a pen,
all penned into a notebook.
3/22/2023
Writing Challenge - 'N' Words - Poetry Contest
6. Notebook
Sponsored by: Constance La France
I found a notebook in blowing trash
left by an elder moving away.
Did she not want to keep it, I asked
Won't fit, one room, is all she would say.
She was bidding farewell to her home
of sixty-five years: she was too old
to live among ghosts she said would roam
I saved book to see what would unfold.
Opening the book, enchantment poured:
watercolors on each wind-torn page.
children, garden blossoms fondly stored,
ladies, beads in hair: the Flapper Age!
I was enthralled. An artist she was!
Beside each drawing, a note left, too.
She was a treasure living near us
I feel ashamed that none of us knew.
We tend to equate old with past tense,
behind the times, so we hesitate.
Of distant years, and her added sense
tales she could tell if we would relate.
Yellow flowers I took in blue bowl,
and visited with her a long while
I said, to hear her tales was my goal,
and saw the beginning of her smile.
March 22, 2023
for "Writing Challenge--N Words"
by Constance La France
a First
Notebook, my dearest old friend from the past,
I know you feel abandoned and disgraced;
Times drastically changed and progressed fast,
I traded crafted notes for databased.
Convenient and prompt, with click and scroll,
Personal handwriting now obsolete.
I am ashamed to tell you -“select all”,
Then paste and writing mission is complete.
Do you remember calligraphic pain
I endured with unwilling, awkward hand?!
With letters dancing backwards, seemed in vain -
You were the only one, who’d understand.
I made mistakes, you laughed, you didn’t fret,
I rubbed you the wrong way, that was in style,
I even spilled and got you soaking wet -
You turned another page with a dry smile.
I miss those days when over you at night
I confided my secrets into you,
And shared my happy moments with delight,
When stubborn words did not comply, I drew.
I note with pride what a great book you’ve been!
But please let’s keep between us what you’ve seen!
March 21, 2023
Sponsor: Constance La France
Contest: Notebook
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.