SPOILED

Is there a need to knead?

To mold and shape a loaf

From lazy, loafing dough?

Like lazy layabouts

And nutty ne’er-do-wells

Perhaps too late for them

To learn to earn their bread

Instead, we bake and make

The freshest bread and cake

We kneel and knead and plead

We bleed for them to change

Their stale and half-baked ways

For spoiled and rotten bread

Gets thrown out on its head

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SEASONING

The seasons pass, like seasoning

On raw and tasteless reasoning

With reason, splashes, dashes, pinch

Of dressing on a dish, a dress

Like pretty words upon a page

Or fresh plucked flowers on a face

All done in good taste. Flavor speaks

To me. Each bite I savor long

And slow. I long for bygone days

And seasons past that flavor thoughts

And memories that never die

– theresurreccionofkevin

POEMS FROM THE PAST: SIGH

POEMS FROM THE PAST: SIGH

Feb 4 2015

Sigh 1

I exhale now

In one large sigh

As though the world

Constricts my chest

Though I’m not old

Or saddled with

The problems that

The others face

I sigh and heave

My soul to light

And breathe it back

To weigh it down 

But once again
Sigh 2

The world at times constricts my chest

And heaving, I release a sigh

My soul pours out, weighed down by gloom

And left to air with sun and wind

I take it back with one quick breath

To weigh it down with gloom again

A sponge for sadness, wrung each day 

– theresurreccionofkevin 

FRESHLY-CUT BREAD

2016 Dec 15, Thursday

FRESHLY-CUT BREAD

To summarize my father’s latest lesson: 

– Hone your tools. Take time to rest, to sharpen your axe. Step away but make sure to come back, invigorated and improved. 

– Learn to challenge yourself. Whether you are retired or have a lot of work, boredom can be found anywhere. Mix things up, do things differently, and face the challenge. Challenges can help as much as they hurt. We can survive longer if we think of them in the first category than the second. 

After all, it is only with constant pressure and struggle that bread is able to be molded. And it is only with enough rest that it rises. 

Rise and shine, my little bread rolls.

– theresurreccionofkevin

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BITTERSWEET


2016 09 29, Thursday
BITTERSWEET

A bitter taste shall greet my lips

A kiss, I cannot think my first

To be this way, like bitter truths

I cannot bear to hear from you

And yet the flavor soothes my tongue

In search of new, exotic tastes

My face shall wrinkle with each bite

Before I smile in ecstasy 

From bitter starts come sweeter ends

Like love and life and other things

– theresurreccionofkevin 

NOTE: 

If I was a chocolate bar I would be dark.