Mightn’t get any sleep
Nose pressed to the screen
so…colorful
so…dreamy
mesmerised
No one’s turned the faucet off
landfall imminent
head like a pressure cooker
build up
drip drip drip
commercial break drums
melody strums
calculating where my loved ones are
a hurricane inland!
the light’s turned off
outside
flashlight relied
upon
filling the tub
not for ducks
morbid message
for those who stayed
permanent i.d. yourself
so your loved ones
don’t need to guess
upon recovery
Mightn’t get any sleep
Nose pressed to the screen
so…colorful
so…dreamy
Cat 4
floored
Pain has a universal resemblance to a cutglass
Lifeless with twists and turns.
Slowly apprehending one like quicksand.
Outwardly screaming for help, no one
in sight to be pinpointed at least it
seemed that pain is eventful with full
of disappointment, heartbreak, testiness
often temporary. Pain is the pain of
conscious of false hopes, pain is
like a pressure cooker, Pain is now
turned inside out with Faith.
In my kitchen, there's a treasure,
scrumptious dinner, it helps me prepare.
Under pressure it combines flavors,
Serves proudly, mouthwatering savors.
This wonder made of stainless steel,
Shines like a star among my utensils.
Rice, beans, soup, or stew,
Ready in a flash for the whole crew.
Safety valve and rubber gasket,
Ensure this helper is not a threat.
Though it shrieks like a train,
This gadget is a faithful friend.
I rely on this device a lot,
As it gives peace to my heart.
So, here's to the pressure cooker's plea,
Transforming ingredients into a glee!
There lived a man and his wife
Who buzzed like bees in a hive
The tension between them was rife
They stung each other with knives
They somehow survived these fights
It got worse when they turned on the lights
She was never a good looker
But was keen on her lips to have a pucker
After botox and filler she resembled a gorilla
His reaction he mouthed to her was mean
Shouting and yelling he let off steam
And exploded like a pressure cooker!
10.9.2021
i 2 have a dream
That one day
The poor will have enough
to eat and change to spare
Every child has both a
mother and father
And clean water to drink
And the sad and bleak
Who endlessly and soley
write about being sad and
put upon
Can find that certain missing
peace and happiness
To make the whole world
including them
Smile so broadly
even the unfortunate
For just a single second
See the darkened clouds
dissipate
And tunnel end illuminate
Free to love the world at last
outside this pressure cooker
looking glass
Devoid of sadness nullified
By unbridled glee and joy
happy thoughts
Where not only the fittest survive
But every species on earth
thrives
And escape this existential
perpetual nightmare
poetry saves
thoughts from obscurity
leads emotions
onto paper-thin canvas
of feelings impressed
with no purpose other
than being expressed
for what it is worth
a few scraps of pleasure
memoranda
passion
and urge to find its place
a ceasefire on the threshold
of truth and truce
a pearl of nothingness
or raw perception
epitaph or prologue
a circle of blindfolds
discarded revealed exposed
in slow motion
or rapturous flow
yet I cannot take credit
for what seeps from my mind
stories are written by life
in obvious or covert stride
with marching boots or flip flops
footsteps on the beach
clinging on to the cliff face
and sometimes naked feet barely hang on
threads of my story
I need to share
from the pressure cooker of the scribe
sometimes merely a flickering flame
but always honest and sentient
each day a poem or more
leave the nib and
the ink dries quickly
until the rain in my heart
smudges letters and words
only to be written
once again
08th August 2021
It takes a life to know the people who are closest to you.
Being close doesn't let you show your internal demons because the goal is to become a collective happiness.
A collective happiness, containing little coloured parts of everyone, made of dining table, flower vase, family photo, pressure cooker and new LED TV.
But what about the remaining parts of self ?
Can you use a family photo to feel good about yourself on all days ?
To be able to face your family without hiding in the quilt, on the road outside your house or your favourite song.
There are no places to hide from from your own shadow.
Shadows are not black these days.
Shadows look a lot like a life you left behind but it did not leave you.
Will the life left behind ever leave you ?
There are times your own skin becomes your enemy. You grow hatred like hair for too long, one day you start liking it.
Until someone enters from outside the room to tell you how, the world outside the room
Is capable of dealing with hatred and hair
until it grows again.
It will grow again.
Everytime.
Father wants breakfast
Groaning to find the settings
To high, four minutes, and on
Pressure cooker despairing -
"Now what? Eggs are hard!"
It’s time to sleep
and yet
my hyper mind races
refusing to settle
a whistling pressure cooker
a jittery volcano
ready to explode
I take a deep breath
and then another
and another
turbulent seas
finally settle
finding their way
to serenity
AP: 3rd place 2021
Posted on November 12, 2019
2 cups of coconut milk
2 cups of spiced rum
1 cup of chopped red onions
1 cup of red bell pepper
1/2 cup of celery
1/4 cup of crushed garlic
5 Tablespoons of salt
3 tablespoons of cayenne pepper
4 cups coca cola
1 cup of lime juice
2 cups of water
1/4 cup of vinegar
4 lbs. fresh pork hocks
in a pressure cooker cook for about two hours, or until tender.
serve with a reduced rendition of the sauce,
1 cup of the sauce, 1 cup of pineapple juice, 1/3 cup of vinegar
1 tablespoon of cayenne, cook reduce to about a 1 and 1/2 cup of sauce.
Autumn
Pumpkins on vines
Canning is in session
Vegetables, mason jars
Mama’s pressure cooker gets a work out
Fresh vegetables, crusty pies
Hot out of the oven
Warm pumpkin pie
Autumn
Today this pressure cooker heat takes our wind
And hands are used as fans to cool our faces.
Cloudless summer skies let UVA's descend
And salty perspiration leaves its traces.
A smelted feeling of being baked alive,
If not for sheltered shade we would not survive.
Twilight brings a respite from Apollo's fire.
As moonbeams dare to fill our hearts with desire.
7-20-18
Summer Rispetto Contest. ~N/A~
Sponsor Barry Stebbings
FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND
There is excitement in the air!
There is a disturbance in the airwaves!
The dogs are restless.
The birds have disappeared
The air is still, like its waiting!
We are in for a storm of note!
The pressure cooker is building.
The clouds are swirling.
The Holy Spirit is waiting to talk!
Listen to the breeze blowing,
The Pine trees are whispering.
He’s here. He’s here, your time is near!
Waves are crashing, storm clouds gathering.
Sunsets are red and orange with anticipation!
The Holy Spirit is calling,
Beckoning you to follow.
God’s finger, a shadow on the sand.
Listen and hear,
Run and be near.
Follow the footprints in the sand!
By Maxie MacDonald
(Luke 3:16) John answered them all, "I baptize you with water. But one more powerful
than I will come, the thongs of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie. He will baptize
you with the Holy Spirit and with fire.
(Matthew 3:16) As soon as Jesus was baptized, he went up out of the water. At that
moment heaven was opened, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and
lighting on him.
Morning is broken.
Electric blue; suffocate my words.
Drowning like a fish, gasping for air.
The hole I will lie in is golden on the outside.
I have no life, I have no time; I have no chance to care.
Underwater bubbles never float into the sky.
Pressure cooker, need a cuddle, beauty begins inside the eyes.
Rip my head apart, I have a cavity;
Unclear to see all three degrees.
I only eat rice from a chessboard.
Skinny love; I overfeed.
You are just a dream to me, I imagine.
Methinks no drink from a grail can remedy.
I am ok without;
I am ok within.
I am ok with you.
I think.
Lizard tongues whisper fables to all with ears.
I have no gun, I have no mouth; I have no choice to speak or to hear.
I suffer in silence as I lie amongst the Guns ‘n’ Roses;
Plant my corpse alongside the mourning plants.
I am done picking flowers and my arm is already full of POEsies.
(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
So many years ago, in my teen years,
our mom received a gift, her newest 'toy',
a Presto pressure cooker added to
her kitchen to create meals we'd enjoy.
Split pea soup recipe she'd planned to make,
to cook for sure in minutes, not in hours.
Excited we had gathered round to watch,
and knew fine soup for dinner would be ours.
At once, the pressure cooker went berserk!
It started hissing, shaking...gave a hint,
as soup shot up to paint our ceiling green,
that momma shoulda read the darn fine print!
Sandra M. Haight
~7th Place~
Contest: Shoulda Read The Fine Print - 2
Sponsor: John Lawless
Judged: 02/18/2018
True Story!
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