liquid generally served warm
boiling solid words of passion
purees thickened with weird im-
ages out of the mind of a crazy cr-
eator meters rhymes calculations an-
d counting were of the old kind when
dim witted patrons mostly ruling dwelled
in rules and regulations order and structure
when they dressed up to eat at their mansions
now we are in this kind of free world and we ma-
ke free juicy creamy warm soups of anarchic love
Categories:
purees, allegory,
Form: I do not know?
In a damp, dark cave
With her twisted evil laugh
She has help from all her slaves
As She practices her craft
She takes an eye of newt
Purees it with a frog
Throws in, a leather boot
And a few hairs from a dog
She speaks an incantation
And I'm awaked from the dead
Then pours this distillation
In a bowl, that's by the bread
You'd think she'd used a spell
'Cause I obey her like a fool
And grab my books and lunch box
As she sends me off to school
Categories:
purees, evil,
Form: Rhyme
I feel like an expired crouton when not penning
On a soup bowl where spoons are all reeling
They would scribble like steam and taste what is read
Through minutes and hours, still they are not enough fed
As overnight alphabets brew from dandy stewing
Soup bowl has spices, purees and great presentation
And finest herbs with glories extract dollars and a donation,
The best sauce boils till TPS chef rams into a bodge glitch
There’s a fly on soup, error shuts down from techno ditch
Curdling word-ingredients; spoons like me burn in frustration!
©
. . .. .
David William’s Life Without Soup
By nette onclaud
Categories:
purees, imagination, on writing and
Form: Rhyme