Sugar of life you are
Sweet and dainty in jar
Over and under the counter
You are a wonder in winter
Sturdy grains of Summer breeze
Granules of sweetness, not freeze
White, not green like the apple peels
Sweet and brittle in my heart reels
Salt of the lake
I grow strong and rake
Salty grounds and eden of drake
As briny as the sea sands shake
My skin dries when you touch
Like yellow leaves that fall too much
Salt not scar, palatable in taste
From the dust man came, never a waste
Sugar and salt are grains of wonder
Sweetness and evenness in gains yonder
Life's toils and reaps in harvest
Man's worth and quest above the rest
Put me on the cold, hard flat stove top
Fill me with water, and turn the boil button on
Throw in potatoes, carrots, or eggs.
Set the timer to low.
Turn my handle inside, so children are safe.
My bottom will get warm.
I might even glow.
If you have no potatoes, carrots or eggs
fill me with water, and dunk in some tea bags
Leave my lid under the counter.
I do not like it.
It feels confining.
Ahhhhhh.... they make me so mad!
A fool, a buffoon, an unruly lad,
A prankster, a trickster, a tattler,
A gigolo, a lounger and an idler;
An imposter, a pretender and a loafer,
A party crasher, a tailgater and a golfer,
A boondoggle or a task of a tall order,
And the deals done under-the-counter!
I often tear my hair out at a silly pun
or at a smart aleck who can out-run,
A hoax or a scam drives me crazy
which is absurd, witless or sleazy.
But look into my eyes lovingly
and whisper sweet nothing softly,
Hold my hands and be pretty sexy
And oh ... Man, I’ll just go crazy!
~"What Annoys You?" contest by Frank Herrera.
Ahhhh...they make me so mad:
A fool, a buffoon, an unruly lad,
A prankster, a trickster, a tattler,
A gigolo, a lounger and an idler;
An impostor, a pretender and a loafer,
A party crasher, a tailgater and a golfer,
A boondoggle or a task of a tall order,
And the deals done under-the-counter.
I often tear my hair out at a silly pun
Or at a smart aleck who can outrun,
A hoax or a scam drives me crazy
that is absurd, witless or sleazy.
But look into my eyes lovingly
And whisper sweet nothing softly,
Hold my hands and be pretty sexy,
And oh...Man, I'll just go crazy!
I'm so annoyed contest by Mary Oliver Rotman
the cookie monster gets her strength
from the plate by your bed.
Sucking down crumbs, growing at every bite,
knowing she shouldn't be fed.
Christmas eve is her favorite day,
when the goods are brought about.
After bed time, she downs the whole plate
so when Santa comes, they're all out.
She hibernates during fruit season,
the safest time of the year.
She sleeps, transforms, almost becoming normal,
then she says “Come here dear.”
so I go to my mother's bed side,
and she whispers in my ear,
“I his some short bread under the counter,
be a darling and bring them here.”
but this time, I put my foot down.
She must fight her addiction fast.
She's a sweet, loving mother as of right now,
but with a cookie, that won't last.
I handed over my reading log to the librarian. Then
she reached into a cardboard box under the counter
and pulled out the coffee cup
and in that moment
I knew it was my own.
The cup was heavy as a melon in my hands, peach-colored
and shaped like an apple.
I devoured the quote printed on its side:
“I always imagined that Paradise
was a kind of library”
Alone with my cup at home
I boiled a pot of water.
As I selected my flavor of tea I
caressed the cup, running my fingers up and down
its smooth curviness.
A whistle in the background. Now is the time.
I poured in the boiling water
added the teabag
and a moment later
standing alone in the kitchen
I raised the cup to my lips
and made it my own.
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