For Fun
Cafes and IBS
I have no time to worry about the inevitable stomach pains or little poots or putters from my voluminous behind, that is a problem for the partons down south. No, I'm too busy to worry about the aches that follow a sugary, milky drink complete with whipped cream and a cherry on top. You see, the crowd is no bother and the wait is worth it, just so long as you meet there. At this wonderful new cafe complete with you and sweet confections. You see, I wouldn't dare to dream about walking through any door that would refuse you. I would not set foot in cafe or bistro that denied you. Because love knows no borders and we've got milkshakes in need of drinking. So dear friend, chocolate or vanilla? I'll order, and we'll share, and blast our IBS winds in sweet freedom and without care.
By Kera Hollow4 days ago in Poets
How would you live?
How would you live if you had a secret portal buried deep in the center of your being that could take you to a place where every answer to every question ever asked sat waiting for you ready to jump out the moment you decide to beckon it? How would you live in this world full of people in a society if you knew that at the root of each individual identity it was you just playing a game with yourself ego hide n seek with a singular, eternal cosmic puppeteer? How would you live in the day to day mundane mediocrity if you were able to see that the chaos and order and radical energy it took to get you here washing the dishes walking the dog waiting in far too long lines is something all together magickal, that there’s nothing boring about the billions of cells in the tip of your finger going through mitosis to make sure your fingertip still exists, that simply sitting in the dirt and being warmed by the sun is not an act of laziness but of devotion honoring the blessing of life. Would you live as you do now? Because, my dear friend, I hate to break it to you but it's all true. Everything we need comes from within, we need only be silent enough to hear it and brave enough to search for it earnestly. And there's the lonely little fact out there that we are all a Me in our own heads. I am I and though I see you as you, you see you as I and I as you just as I see you and in that way we are one. Sacredness does not need robes or diamonds or even the respect of those who encounter it, sacredness is, whether a fool can recognize it or not yet it is simultaneously something only ever found in the eye of the beholder. A temple with no god is a pile of rocks and an ocean no matter how polluted is still mighty still commands respect and may still kill. The more I understand the more I see that knowledge means nothing if it is never put into practice. So I ask myself how do I want to live?
By Lolly Vieira5 days ago in Poets
The Dessert
A graham cracker crust cradles a promise— golden caramel dripping like sunlight, each drop an echo of laughter shared. Cream cheese, thick and velvety, whipped to a cloud-like dream— it swirls with rich chocolate whispers, bitter and sweet in tender embrace; a marriage born of patience, not haste. Nuts crunch beneath the weight of flavor, pecans scattered like memories on top— each bite a journey through layers of bliss, the richness unfolds like stories told at dusk, warmth seeps into every slice shared. Here lies indulgence wrapped in reverie, as forks dive deep into creamy depths— and oh! the joy that blooms with each taste; we sit together as time slips away. Outside the window night unfurls her cloak, stars twinkle like sprinkles in our minds— but here in this moment we are safe, savoring sweetness amidst life's sharp edges, the world outside fades to a distant hum. So let us linger over plates half-emptied, with hearts full and laughter echoing softly; for within this dish is not just dessert, but solace found in simplicity’s grace— a turtle cheesecake—a piece of paradise.
By Forest Green5 days ago in Poets
The Dessert
The golden curve of a banana, its freckles telling tales of sunlit days, nestled beside cream cheese dreams— soft as the sigh of a lover’s embrace. Crust crumbles beneath tender fingers, graham crackers crushed with intention, like memories shattered and pieced anew; melted butter glistens in warm sunlight, binding together secrets sweetened by time. A dance begins—the mixer whirls, a symphony of sugar and spice; cream spills over edges like laughter. Banana slices cascade in slow motion, their vibrant yellow—a burst of joy, each bite a promise kept in silence. I fold in hope with every swirl, the richness enveloping all doubts— each layer a story waiting to unfold. The cheesecake rises like dreams at dawn, creamy clouds that cradle longings unspoken. Chilled in solitude until evening descends— then served on plates adorned with love; the first forkful brings forth an awakening— an explosion of flavor painting smiles bright. We savor each morsel under starlit skies; time melts away like chocolate drizzled warmth— in this moment we are whole again.
By Forest Green5 days ago in Poets
The Dessert
The clock ticks softly, an orchestra of anticipation, while golden dreams bubble in a pot— sweetened milk, kissed by time, transformed into liquid gold. I cradle the graham crust, crumbled whispers bound together— each bite a memory of sun-warmed picnics, where laughter danced with the breeze; the butter melts like secrets shared. With gentle strokes, I spread the cream cheese, a silken canvas for indulgence— its coolness beckons to be adorned. Like clouds folding into twilight skies, I pour the dulce de leche over— ribbons of caramel cascading downwards. A swirl of chocolate kisses my fingertips; the bittersweet notes harmonize with joy. This is not just dessert; it’s an embrace— each layer cradling stories untold; this cheesecake sings of moments sweet and soft. The oven warms like a lover's sigh; as it bakes slowly into perfection, the world outside fades away— time suspended in sugary bliss. When finally it cools and awaits its unveiling, I slice through soft layers with reverence— a portal to nostalgia on a porcelain plate; every forkful an echo of childhood delight. In this simple act lies magic— not merely cheesecake but communion at dusk; where taste becomes memory and memories linger long after.
By Forest Green5 days ago in Poets
The Dessert
Golden rays spill through kitchen windows, soft light dancing on polished countertops, where a heart waits patiently, cradling a bowl of ripe mangoes, their skin warm like laughter. I slice through flesh— a knife glides easily, revealing the nectar hidden beneath the surface, an explosion of sunshine and sweetness, dripping down fingers and onto my palm; my tongue anticipates that first taste. Cream cheese whispers into the mix— silky smoothness folding with sugar’s embrace, vanilla's soft caress swirls through the batter, while graham cracker crumbs linger nearby— each grain like memories waiting to be shared. I pour this golden mixture into a crusted cradle, gently coaxing it into the cool of the fridge; time stretches thin as I dream about bites to come— a symphony of flavors that will ignite my senses. Hours pass slowly, each tick a promise kept; when at last I open that door—the cold rushes out— and there it is—a sun-soaked cheesecake smiling back at me. I lift a fork with trembling anticipation; the first bite is an explosion—a sweet reverie— mango dreams wrapped in silky embrace, with every mouthful a dance of joy unfurling. In this moment time dissolves away; each morsel melts against my tongue, and all worries fade like shadows in twilight; this simple indulgence becomes my sanctuary.
By Forest Green5 days ago in Poets
The Dessert
The graham cracker base crumbles, golden specks under soft fingertips, as if to remind me— every layer holds a story, each ingredient a memory waiting to be savored. Tudexo cheesecake rises, a confectionary dream set free, its surface smooth as a gentle sigh, vanilla wafts through the air— an invitation wrapped in sweetness. I watch it bake, a slow metamorphosis; the oven hums its warm lullaby. Patience is a virtue here; time thickens like custard in the heart. With every tick of the clock’s hands, anticipation blooms like spring flowers— soft petals unfurling into existence: the first bite—a revelation! Rich and creamy cascades on my tongue. A hint of tang embraces nostalgia; this is not just dessert but an echo— of laughter shared at family tables, of stories spun in late-night whispers, and love baked into every forkful. Here lies joy folded between layers, a celebration nestled on plates, where each slice offers solace— like childhood dreams revisited. And as I savor this tender creation, I realize that life itself can be sweet, if only we dare to mix together the ingredients laid before us, turning ordinary moments into magic.
By Forest Green5 days ago in Poets
