Food depression

I go to the store
I wander aimlessly
like the day before

I don’t know where to look
I don’t know what to cook
I’m not in the mood
for any boring food

I don’t want beans
or any other greens
and I do not fancy meat

I’ll get fish and chips
it might just make me happy
it shall be my treat

My deli

I’ve got truffles
I’ve got grapes
I’ve got what you need
I’ve got olives and flaxseed

I’ve got cheeses
I’ve got sweets
something hearty
and other treats

I’ve got a sausage
it’s nice and hot
yet pickled onions
I have not

Potatoes she peeled: a poem for my nanna

where to begin
maybe with the small cracks
in her skin
every afternoon
and again soon
she sat down
in a kitchen
basket on her lap
whilst you heard
the water
dripping from the tap
she peeled potatoes
part of her daily chores
that earthy fragrance
ingrained in her pores
taking out the pits
with a tiny knife
the homely joys
she thought
of her daily life

Asparagus pee

I smell
something funny
I smell
something strong
and keep wondering
what could be the odd pong

could it be booze
could it be garlic
Oh piss,
it’s asparagus pee

Cotton candy

cotton candy
cotton candy
when I see you
I feel mighty dandy

you’re colorful
and bright
I dream of you
day and night

cotton candy
you’re so sweet
it is you
I want to eat

Birthdays

am I willing
am I able
able to cope
with the rope
that extends the time
tying years together
in predictive boredom
of birthdays yet to come
groundhogged
and fogged
by hollow words
mixed with cake and beer
and fear
having to do this again
and again
every bloody year?

Steam rising

subtle
stringy
strands

of

caffeine
clouds
caress

the

immediate
ideal
interaction

between

tongue and cheek
tantalizing
treasure

whilst

softly
silently
sipping

steam rising

Corvus Corax

black raven
sitting on a fence
feeling blue
don’t know what to do

waiting for death
to come to his gate
was it eyes of a human
he recently ate?

looking at me
if I were its prey
too big to handle?
maybe some day…

Cooking neighbours

the familiar smell
I know it all too well
the daily spell
of garlic
and beef
every day
at 6
good grief

all around
the clinking sound
of pots
n pans
the roaring noise
of kitchen fans
my cooking neighbors
not my choice…

3 blind mice

three blind mice
were eating stir fried rice
after they had dinner
they also wanted ice

but as they couldn’t see
they asked the cat to get it
yet the cat ate them instead
after he said: forget it!

Joy sticks

sharpened senses
moving eyes
when I see and smell
them lovely fries

yellow sticks
sticks of joy
when they crunch
oh boy oh boy

the smell
travels for miles
won’t have a few
I want piles

piles I’ll get
when I am fat
topped with mayo
need sum of that

With words

with words
I create
and recreate
my fate
in a mental state
of free
spirit
and joy
fed by life’s
ingredients
for a tasty dish
of juicy text
spiced up
spewed up
served
with wit
melancholy
and sweet talk
for afters
as supper
or dessert
I juggle
with words
with words
I flirt

https://books2read.com/u/bwq7RY

Chocolate on my couch

ouch
ouch
ouch
I got chocolate
on my couch

spilt it
dropped it
sat on it too
rubbed it in
looks like bloody poo

brown spotted
stains
melted in
where the hell
do I begin

wish the couch was black
instead of white
I’m glad I don’t have to see it
after turning off
the light

Beef

I ain’t got
no beef
with you
said the cow
to the butcher
so chop chop
Go!
and leave me
now
and perhaps
someday
I shall
forgive you
somehow

Often

often
I stare
at your picture
and look into your eyes
wondering what
you felt at the time
when I ate your lovely fries

I see sadness
anguish
and disbelief
I thought you’d forgive me
but you still
call me
a thief

Cherries

I cherish
all the cherries
as I pick them
on the way
to our garden
of life

the juicy ones
ripe for the taking
whole
sweet and chewy
just like you
my dear wife