My rather unsuccessful attempts at cooking for my wife while we were dating.
No doubt, my wife, she married me
For wit or charm or my great look
But it was not, I am assured
For anything I tried to cook
Although I tried. To me it seemed
Incumbent on me as a guy
To grill some to display my love
Just cook something. You know, to try.
And she, as gracious as she is
She showed the error of my thought:
And said it would be better if
She cooked our meals
And I did not
= = = = =
What’s the one item in your kitchen you can’t possibly cook without? A spice, your grandma’s measuring cup, instant ramen — what’s your magic ingredient, and why?
Not enough blog posts have a “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” reference.
The song says life is but a dream; I raise no opposition
Although it seems a rather existential proposition
But there’ve been moments I have seen that seem to indicate
The dreams we dream can be real life
And it’s never
Blogging connections can run deep.
She read the words that spilled across her screen
Another woman’s words, from far away
And realized, she’d never been alone
She’d just been made to feel
She was that way
She tries to breathe out worry; breathe in calm
As pressures gather round her in a knot.
Each slow exhale, a bit of soothing balm;
Each long inhale, a disentangled thought.
We always see her peaceful face, serene:
But fear and terror lurk
Behind the scene
Chess. That’s the new subject, chess.
Recently, much carnal thinking’s
Taken up my poetry;
Obsessing on one thing – it isn’t
Really very good for me
I declare now: thoughts of sex
I hereby banish from my head.
No more lines or words erotic;
I’ll write about chess, instead.
= = = = =
She told him, “Come play chess with me;
Each move we’ll slowly make, and right.”
And so he tried to place his rook
Into her castle day and night