You live with a fridge from yesteryear.; her door is old, and the suction is a bit off.
Partying like you’re in your twenties, you drank too much last night and feel flat.
You descend the staircase to the kitchen for some relief from the heat and sickness.
Placing one foot in front of the other, you stand in front of your vintage fridge.
You open the fridge only to find a secret garden hidden inside your love.
Putrid smells and semi-decaying pumpkins reveal themselves to you in horror.
You see moss, mould, mushrooms and something else growing in that ecosystem.
Peachy, you feast your eyes on the greenery and decide to close the fridge for good; you value your tummy, so upon closing the fridge, you kiss her and say goodbye.
Category: Poems for the Home
Kitchen Cupboards
I dream of the kitchen cupboards
smashing against your head,
and I cannot stop smiling.
You, falling from me so forlorn,
as the wood connects with
that round shiny ball, your head.
You Haven
The toilet seat holds all of your secrets, keeping them silently.
A friend to no one, yet useful for all: your haven.
Sitting upon your throne of bliss, you ponder the mysteries of the universe as ideas awaken: you come alive.
The room spins,
your mind is alive;
one with the seat.
Poems for the Home Explained…
Poems for the Home is a collection of my rather more “interesting” poems. I am constantly inspired by the absurd and funny. After sitting on my lounge chair thinking about a concept I coined while watching shows, which I call “horizontal lounge-chair enthusiasm“, I started writing about kitchen utensils and saucepans.
C & K 