Tittle tittle
make love the middle
love
Which complicated romances
A fool should be
more wiser to see
not be obvious taking chances
It ain't bout rejection
See all I am reflecting
Is complicated
But it real
What I am suggesting
In such complications
Is ah due wash thyme will be
It ain't that complicated
And all you
Debated is where.
You stand with him
Or me
Neilsen got ratings
And what we debating
Is one of those
Who are oh succiees
White shelves and bammas
Your tense reminders
Is bout you and mi
Oboe, oh oboe
The piccolo has played
The piano is tuned
The song is fluted
Bytch why can't you behave
Barking and spicing
In your conversation
The secret recipe gave
Can't trust whores
Sorrstrees who
Chore-9h
Trick
Please behave
What that
Is it jelly
I ain't Mackiovelli
The triple crown has past
Is Preakness playing
We ain't behaving
Gonna give next guy
Sum azz
Two elves on a shelf
double the trouble.
They sit there conniving,
getting into mischief,
making life interesting
by spicing it up a bit.
What would Christmas be
without elves on a shelf?
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
What was that?
No Darlin', I'm listening!
Yes, you have my complete attention!
You want me to do what?
Right now?
Before dinner?
Wow...that sounds hot!
I know, we never tried that before.
No, I'm not afraid of spicing things up!
No, I'm not afraid of experimenting,
It's just that...I don't know if I can take the heat!
Of course I love you!
I love you more each day!
Okay then, if you want it hot, then hot it shall be!
Your every wish is my command!
So...habeneros instead of jalapenos in the chili then, huh?
Ooh Baby, that does sound hot!...But...we might pay the price tomorrow!
tangy scent of spring
sprays potion on blooms of dark woods ~
spicing dayglow's breeze
I sat at the bar sipping my lemon and lime
He came over pint in hand and sat on the stool next to mine.
“Haven’t seen you in here before”
I didn’t answer because something in my bag had just become very interesting.
He said, “You have lovely hair.”
I didn’t answer because my phone needed checking.
He said, “You have heard all this before haven’t you?”
I said, “Is that it! You’ve got me to get all dressed up and come to this bar and pretend I don’t know you and That’s IT!
He said, “Well I heard you on the phone telling your best mate that things need spicing up. So I thought this might help?”
“I was talking about the Thai Curry.”
We went back home, had the curry and went to bed.
An Autumn rain teases the roses
Splashes within cupped petals
Challenges the lone bumble bee
To pollinate the late bloomers
Chipmunks grapple with wet acorns
Leaf armadas ride the rapids
A lone goose questions its choice
Children know what the puddle’s for
October hides behind next Sunday
Readying its cornstalk mazes
Spicing up its pumpkin-ness
Adding its scents to Fall’s colors
Telling Stories explained
To impart words of wisdom
one would assume you need to be wise,
there's nothing farther from the truth
If skilled at telling lies.
A story not necessarily true
but believed true by the teller,
convincingly told and carefully sold
can be the next best seller.
So take this with a grain of salt
just make things up along the way
and the more you tell the story
the more the truth will decay.
The truth is so objective
everyone makes their own
and what's the real story,
is oftentimes unknown.
Every story can be fiction
if not believed by even one,
for if that one single person,
believes it's overdone
then your factual account or recollection
to them is not worth the ink in print
and your insistence and conviction
will barely make a dint.
Again, just tell the story
repeat it until you believe it to be true
with careful lies and alibis
your readers will accrue.
Then fiction turns to solid facts
as you entertain with pen in hand
and you're spicing up the story
that started off so bland.
It is not just a mustard seed,
It is associated with smell, sights, people and memories,
Crackling mustard seeds and curry leaves,
In the pan filled with hot-oil,
Mother shouting to keep the tin back in place,
In the rack where it belonged,
Memories of time spent with my mother in the kitchen,
Food was always a way to the heart,
Mustard was a key ingredient in almost all the dishes,
A pinch or tablespoon was enough to do the wonders.
Small, brown and round.
Dancing in the oil,
Spicing up our lives,
Jesus said, "Kingdom of heaven is like to a grain of mustard seed, which is the smallest of all seeds on earth. Yet when planted, it grows and becomes the largest of all garden plants, with such big branches that the birds can perch in its shade."
I remember the cold evenings spent in Northern India,
Mother used to tell us to apply mustard oil,
It was thick and yellowish.
Helped us fight against cold winters.
Many memories attached with it.
Dire Need for Food
Need for nutritious food is always dire;
Rather than us die and have to expire,
Did eat on,
Until gone,
Our each delicious meal in its entire.
Another piece off we started slicing,
Of incredible cake seeming enticing;
When found,
Perfectly round,
With excellent icing and sweet spicing.
Food fest had been on was the best;
Always easy to chew up and digest;
Calories become,
More that some;
Find more we went on another quest.
Jim Horn
Slicing Enticing Cake
Had started out when we were slicing,
An incredible cake seeming so enticing;
When found,
Perfectly round,
With excellent icing and sweet spicing.
Food Fest Was the Best
Food fest had been really the best;
Is easy to chew up and then digest;
Calories become;
More than some;
Find another we went on a quest.
Jim Horn
Have to write poems about food for a Food
Poetry Recital in Shallotte, NC at Roark
Library end of month of March.
Slicing Enticing Cake
Had started out when we were slicing,
An incredible cake seeming so enticing;
When found,
Perfectly round,
With excellent icing and sweet spicing.
Food Fest Was the Best
Food fest had been really the best;
Is easy to chew up and then digest;
Calories become;
More than some;
Find another we went on a quest.
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran
RiverSea Plantation
Bolivia, NC
Luscious Love
Sweet serene surrender, your love a heaven splendor
In all that is tender, I’ll be the receiver, you the sender
Your love hath no bounds, with sensuous savory sounds
Your cherished heart compounds, within my soul surrounds
In delicious dreams compelling, my desire is over swelling
In our yeasty youthful yelling, seductive screams are selling
Our flesh adoringly afire, ascending aromas of lust perspire
For our liquid love does inspire, sultry satin and lace for hire
Bewitching and enticing, you are my cake with illicit icing
I hunger for you’re spicing, nectar for the gods are sacrificing
Sexual streams our appetite branded baring a bosom bite
Euphoric ecstasy in moonlight, in sweet surrender of night.
Sept.23.2017
The Poet's Fire
Sponsored by/Gregory R Barden
The inventor of the number system and chess;
the originator of algebra, trigonometry and calculus;
with the globe’s largest railway and postal network
and second to none in the height of a bridge.
We speak of the largest government of, for and from the people.
Beats Israel, Egypt, Mecca, Rome and Greece
in the number of religious visitors attracted to its shrines.
The circumference of its seasonal experience
is well partitioned into six segments.
It is the major contributor in giving the world some spicing,
its currency and sharing are very big antonyms
while Meghalaya is confirmed to be the globe’s tongue.
Even with these medals and accolades,
it still struggles to give women enough warmth and comfort
Everybody’s noodle pudding’s
Baked a different way.
If you lined them up, you’d find
A real diverse display.
Mine, which is delicious,
Has two different kinds of fruit –
Orange slices from the can
And pineapple, to boot;
Sour cream, vanilla, butter,
Eggs and cottage cheese.
It disappears so fast, there’s not
A piece left I can freeze.
My friend makes hers with cream cheese,
Also pineapple and milk!
She bakes it half as long as mine
And says it’s smooth as silk.
Some recipes have raisins
And use cinnamon for spicing.
That combination, to my palate,
Isn’t that enticing.
In spite of the ingredients
That they’re concocted of,
All kugels* taste delectable
If they are made with love.
Yet every cook who makes one
Would be proud to take a test
Just to prove what she knows in her heart –
Her noodle pudding’s best!
*Yiddish for noodle puddings or other baked dishes
Within the boxed confines
of ancient wood and plaster
waking, sleeping, dreaming in solitude
Only the cats soft purr
and frisky nature seeks to scatter the
dust bunnies which hide at sunrise.
Within the box of mind
or the box of heart
daily I peer outside of myself
through a pixeled frame of light.
The ingredients of my day
the passion of my night
all congeal in a broth like fractal art
spicing the tendrils of thought.
The mind mixes and blends friends
a genetic sea of salt and water minds
bubbles and boils and become.
~Without this soup you see
there could never be a universal we.
I would remain an eye without thee.
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