In Ravenscourt Park there was an old man
Who lived in an alabaster cave
Each morning he’d eat Bitterness on Toast
Then for work he would leave
With his glass jar tucked under his arm
Hobbling through the streets
Waiting for the moment tension would strike
To gather his bittersweet treat
Throughout the day he’d fill his jar
Revelling in its growing weight
Daydreaming the joy of getting home
To eat his sandwich filled with hate
To sit at the table with his favourite plate
And fill his belly full of misery
Then off to bed he’d take himself
Where he would dream of history
The dreams weren’t much different
From the days that he had
Except for the ring on his finger
And the smile that greeted him at the door
But the bitterness it did linger
While he ate his sandwich filled with hate
His wife ate strawberry jam
Too sweet was the taste of her lips
It angered the little old man
Night after night he’d dream of those lips
A never ending cycle of torment
Waking up to the brim with anxiety
Ready for a day of resentment
Tag: Food
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She watched the little donkey
Looking at the egg
He didn’t understand how to boil it
She gave him the pan
And a simple plan
But the donkey just couldn’t relay it
With a roll of her eyes
She offered to help
As dozens of eggs had been broken
With his clumsy hooves
She wanted to prove
His appendages weren’t the problem
The issue was the story he told himself
The useless victim ass
Repeating old stories
It got very boring
She thought he’d never pass the class
Children came and went
But the little donkey stayed put
Focused on this oval mystery
How can something hard
Be runny inside
His brain delved into history
“Which came first the chicken or the egg?“
She looked at him in dispair
“We’re just boiling an egg!
For the love of a Greggs!
Can you get your head in gear?“
The donkey bowed his head
A tear hit the floor
She really did feel awful
Maybe she didn’t have the patience
To teach this delinquent
The tears started to pour
She left the room
Left the donkey inside
And went into the garden
Breathed the fresh air
As a fly went past her hair
Suddenly she noticed her face had hardened
She wondered how long she had been frowning like that
Forehead furrowed and stern
She closed her eyes
Let out a huge sigh
Ready with her self back in alignment
She packed all her tools
Walked out of the school
And let someone else deal with that donkeys assigment. -
Get off the roof!
You naughty Little Unicorn!
With your eyes so glittery
And your soft, pink horn
I’ve told you before!
You’re not allowed up there
You’ll take off the tiles
And the children you’ll scare
They’ll think you’re a monster
Banging on the roof
Trying to get them
Smashing with your hoof
I’ve made some cupcakes
Fresh out the oven
If you come down
I’ll let have one
Ok fine! Have them all!
Just please come down safely
I don’t fancy the evening
In magical fantasy A&E -
The busy little bee
So busy near her hive
Spending her time
Ducking and diving
Searching for pollen
Seeking the flowers
Suckling the nectar
To give her magic powers -
Oh the smell from long ago
The waft warm and familiar
The early start a slave in part
In a world confused and in pain
Why do passing smells entice
More than if I was the chef
With my own hands creating
But my nose elating
From the aroma of the morning tube -
How lucky we are to be loved
By a mother who has such strength
She watches us destroy her body
Yet still bears fruit for our fists to clench
She brings the water to our mouths
And doesn’t flinch when we spit
We kill all her children
Yet she holds our fire delicately lit
How she encourages us to grow
Leading by example
Displaying her grace
As we continue to trample
Her guidance ignored
As our greedy hands grow
Mother will soon punish us
Do you want it to be so? -
It’s cold out mummy
Can we go inside?
Not right now hunny
We can’t ruin the surprise
It’s getting dark mummy
How long do we wait?
Not long hunny
This surprise is gonna be great!
I’m really hungry mummy
Can we go soon?
We’ll go soon hunny
Look up at the moon
I’m getting tired mummy
Can I go to bed?
Not yet hunny
Curl up under this bush instead
We’re still here mummy
Did we stay all night?
Yes we did hunny
Everything will be alright -
There was a little Strawberry
Hanging on a bush
It was so red and juicy
Then one day whooosh
A giant hand came and grabbed her
And placed her in a cave
Then crushed her little body
With her cousin Dave -
Butter! Butter! Where are you?
You’re not in the fridge.
Are you hiding from me?
A just need a smidge.
For my crumpets. Only two
Why don’t you come hither?
I’ll let you go before you know
I just need a slither
Ah there you are. On the side
How did you escape?!
I’ve got my knife. I’ll hold your life
On this nice warm plate
Actually I changed my mind
Crumpets can’t be dry
I’m going to dolop you on them
I’m afraid you’ll have to dieI’m loving memory of M.Y Butter. Use by date April 2023. Gone before his time. Gone, but never forgotten. RIP
Sin Agua Poetry Blog 