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#poetrysoupkitchen
jmsapphire · 1 year
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I didn't know I could
Implode
Just as much from
Bottled hurts and angers
As I do unloved loves
Loves I didn't give
Loves I failed to give
Loves I wished I'd given
Loves I didn't receive
Loves I thought were mine
To have and give and be given;
- but here we are
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bluemonkwrites · 4 years
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Too Comfortable
As I read on the couch with legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, the cat crawls up and rests along my bicep and shoulder requiring a shift in how I hold my cup. I sip the coffee slowly, so the aroma can fill my face. My tongue bathes in tender mystery.
As I tilt the iPad toward me, a squeak or chirp from the other room hits my head like a poorly placed punctuation mark and the exploits of Josiah and the priest Hilkiah are covered by a sound I must investigate. After a brief search, I find the ceiling fan in the girls’ room needs repair. I turn it off and make a mental note to get to it after the rest of the house has awakened.
The sun is rising outside. I see the light just past the porch in my peripheral vision as I return to my seat and cup and purring cat and long paragraphs in Second Kings. Before I can get back to the cleansing of temples of Baal’s and Asherah’s desecrations, a siren, then two, wail close and persistently until finally, I must step onto the porch. After witnessing nothing unusual, just children scurrying to catch the bus, I lumber in and refill my cooled mug.
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wachtuiltje · 5 years
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a summer to remember
how is this summer going to end?
certainly not with a bang
no. .It seems to linger on
like a fond memory
the scent of so many flowers
the song of satisfied birds
looking down from opulent branches
in forests which do not want
to know about stress
yes, I feel sad it won 't last
but the knowledge
this is not the last one
is giving me a feeling that
nothing has been in vain
*
wachtuiltje 2019🗿
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haikkun · 5 years
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Grandma’s Kitchen
Tears in my eyes as
I write this
For I can still smell
The coffee and feel
The percolator like it’s
The sound my chest will make
Some day as I die
And I’d come strolling in
At the age of four or six or five
And ask
“Makin’ bacon, honey?”
And you’d cackle our laugh
And I loved you and you’d
Tell me what I must and dassn’t do
In your voluminous nightgowns
And Avon perfume
And your eyes had a sparkle
Even before that cataract surgery
And I forgave the
Loose jello
Stewed tomatoes
Bitter lettuce, raw potatoes
And the eye-watering gas stove
You made the birds sing
You made everything
__________________________________
Maureen Armstrong @haikkun
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imperialhaiku · 5 years
Text
fall makes me feel as / though something beautiful and / dying is coming
haiku 280/365
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theanantgaggar-blog · 5 years
Text
Sometimes when nothing makes sense inside me,
I strip myself and stand under a shower,
I loosen my body, hold still,
I come out, put some talcum and dress up,
I tell my mother to make some tea and change the bedsheet,
And then i lay on the bed, with hands outstretched,
I smell the fresh bedsheet, glance around the room,
The ceiling, the clock, the wall, the window pane,
Somehow i breathe an air of ease,
My thoughts start coming to rest,
Theres a feeling of nothingness inside me, and i know i am ready to begin again
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drearydaffodil · 5 years
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Her hug felt like home, grandma
Was a hummingbird with her
June sky eyes I now see in
The mirror and that twinkle
Made me feel like I was the
Most important person on
The planet--sticky fingers
And sticky faces and so
Very much love, every
Barbie doll birthday
Cake was proof that I
Was a princess and
She was my beautiful
Fairy grandmother
I'd give up all my wishes
For one more minute with
Her lopsided smile
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praggya1993 · 5 years
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She was always wrapped
in a pletheora
Of customs and traditions
Her hands always engaged
In numerous ceremonies and rituals
For every event and occasion
By which she painstakingly ensured and
assured herself in her own ancient ways
About the well-being and protection
Of every possible person around her
Although highly orthodox
Yet her gentle bosom
Was filled with numerous tales
Of love and compassion for all
Lessons on morality courage and wisdom
Were etched upon her features
In the form of a zillion adorable wrinkles
With her benign smile
That exuded the pleasant fragrance
Of her divinely pure heart
She became
My true role model
As I grew up
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definegodliness · 5 years
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Most beloved fire hazard
Grandma's kitchen smelled like pancakes on Wednesdays, delicious.
I remember the pancake men with eyes made out of raisins.
I remember the year she forgot how to make them.
Pancake men burned in the haze of forgotten self-evidence.
We opened a window but the smoke never cleared. 
She forgot our names later that year.
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burningmuses · 5 years
Photo
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Kevin’s Note:  Current Events.  Use #poetrysoupkitchen so I can reblog here!
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jmsapphire · 2 years
Text
Shouldn't you be treating
Your own self too to
A Valentines Day like
The lovers you have, had
And wish to have on
This day so? Why not love
Your own self today
For the world may be
Used to a Valentines Day
Yet you yourself are
Someone too, to love
And cherish as all loves so do.
And maybe it's just one day
But why not make it every day?
- February is not much and not enough to some, and too much to many
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bluemonkwrites · 5 years
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Fall on us
July, and the wood is still mostly green. There are no mountains in this part of Texas but those inside my messy apartment and perhaps in my imagination of Austin, so far from us all.
It’s morning, which is supposed to be some kind of metaphor. My plants need water. Maybe me too. Perhaps I will get to that before long.
I’m overdue for an eye exam. Sitting on the warming porch I drink a cup of coffee, but the words get little more in focus.  I know the sun will come out from behind those false rain clouds and scorch even the hill blanketed mothers.
Sometimes I remember my desire/my fear for the last summer when my sins /my Sin will be burned quicker than kindling.
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wachtuiltje · 5 years
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Like a bouquet of herbs
she is
Like a bouquet of herbs
of which she offers me different
possibilities to make food tasty
thus it never gets boring
being with her
she gives me that devilish smile
of secret understanding and plotting
knowing that it won't fail
as long as I am clever enough
I hope she's right
I fear she is
therefore I smile
*
wachtuiltje 2019🗿
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imperialhaiku · 5 years
Text
grandma's kitchen smells / like my father's breath after / too many nightmares
haiku 286/365
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theanantgaggar-blog · 5 years
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Whenever i feel i have failed, in my pursuit of loving more, i imagine my arms outstretched and falling down the cliff,
I realise death is near, i close my eyes,
And suddenly her memories appear, telling me you are gonna be just fine,
My body is reminded of her touch, it reignites,
And i know when i hit the ground, i shall be reborn again
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