Short Silverware Poems

salt shakers galore 
table doilies silverware 
cookie cutters plates...

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"bedtime snack"


your boxers
my panties

silverware 
spooning

do you
wanna 

fork...

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Among the broken dishes
and under the crying faucet
is a pile of dirty silverware left for the next morn
while songs of Love are found lying on the kitchen floor....

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in my mouth
silver 
giving me a sharp bite
hurts against tin foil

in my paintings
silver
gives the glitz and sparkle she needs
not always but sometimes

in my silverware drawer
fake silver
called plated
faux
not real

in my dreams
gold 
no silver at all...

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a candle’s flame moves
in the breeze from the window –
her gaze lowers

the sizzling dish
is presented, white chicken –
salsa, red and green

a margarita
wide mouthed, salted and chilled –
her laughter rises

silverware moonlit
stands out against the red cloth –
a knife is dropped 

Mexican coffee
arrives a two tone mixture –
too hot to handle...

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The dinner was ready, all handled with care, 
when she opened the box with the nice silverware.
She let out a sigh
then started to cry
'cause a fork was no longer there.

Up jumped her husband as quick as a flash
and, bringing a torch, hurried out to the trash.
He did find the fork
but he looked like a dork
when he knocked down the trash with a crash!...

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In the beautiful, quiet morning
I’m disturbing that fog of silence
I’m putting away the dishes
Chinking glass, the shelves closing
Nothing banging
The sticky shelf finally opening
So I’m placing the bowls
Pulling drawers and
The silverware clinking,
The plates clanging; my feet shuffling
My first cup of tea
Is freshly brewing
And now here I am 
Just writing...

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Savory flavors 

Tasting love,
sating a hungered palate
delicious desires served hot
Licked lips
of savory flavors
drenching me,
dripping from my chin
satisfying a desperate appetite

Sticky fingers
grasping delectable morsels
sans silverware
between sautéed folds 
tempting the tongue
Nectarous juices flow
in appetizing moans
as desert comes

And who says you shouldn’t 
play with your food

:)...

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I have outlived my life.
My son-in-law opens doors for me,
drags my oxygen tank around
on a metal cart.
I stop at every intersection,
waiting for honks.
I cannot see the lights.

Sometimes,
I go out to dinner,
alone.
“How many tonight, sir?”
“Just one; just me.”
I follow the hostess to a booth,
set for two.
She smiles at me as she removes
one set of silverware,
and I stare
at the empty space
in front of me....

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I always expect to hear singing from the balconies
there is only the chatter of other enthusiastic diners
in the thin alley where we consume outside in summer
Scars, my favorite restaurant with a welcoming owner

we are greeted with plates of warm steaming appetizers
crisp table cloths are white linen, the silverware heavy
It is not inexpensive, but we would gladly pay more
for the ambiance, delicious food and this gorgeous alley....

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My junk drawer
Too small for so much
Plenty of silverware
Inside it's container
Too many napkins to count
In pile and a few scattered about
Which seem to disappear 
Way too fast
A pizza cutter somewhere
Long, sharp knives
Of which most are missing
The last one used for slitting plastic
For frozen dinners
A spatula or two
An ice-cream scoop
Not used enough!
Two can openers
One of which is broken
Enough material 
For just one person!...

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Too many choices on my days off
I am confused and surrounded with ideas
Painting, writing, cleaning, sorting, shoveling
I look at my bed, wondering if I need a nap
But wait. Haven’t I already had two of them?
Depressed because of all the choices
Wishing it was Monday again
So my choices would be limited.
You could sort out the silverware drawer a voice says.
I pull the covers over my head
The dog climbs up gratefully,
This is our happy place....

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GRAND OPENING

MOM’S PLACE

Simple fare
simply prepared

by MOM

THE MENU

You will eat what Mom cooks

Sit where Mom tells you to sit

Eat what Mom puts in front of you.

Dessert will be served*

*(if mom thinks you deserve it)

There will be no hats, books,
cell phones, or video games
at the table

The clatter of silverware,
the antics of children
the hum of conversation

The moments shared
and Apple Pie


9/6/2016...

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