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Anais Vionet Apr 19
There’s a farmers market near campus.
A young couple has a pizza oven on a trailer.
They make a breakfast pizza - bacon, mozzarella
some egg and green peppers. It’s SO crispy and delicious.
ALL I had to do this morning was say “breakfast pizza!”
and six of us were ready to head out fifteen minutes later.

Let’s wax poetic, shall we?

There are some young ladies who live in a dorm
sometimes it seems like they only have studies
but once and a while on a Saturday or Sunday
if we have our druthers, we get out, in swarm
and find ourselves some pizza-like brekkie.

.
.
Songs for this:
PIZZA by Oohyo
Le Breakfast Club de Paris by Gabrielle Chiararo
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 04/14/25:
Druthers =  the power or opportunity to choose
Sudzedrebel Apr 19
Life can be a real rut
When you're running through it
Like some kind of a feral mutt.
Big pits that open up
In which you can get stuck.
Rabbit holes made by voles!
For spry are the gophers & moles.
Still, I have love for a rodent.
Yet, ever as such, always
Unprepared for a real owl!
If it ain't the bark or howl
The bite you get is quite sour.
Just gotta give a hoot!
Don't run a foul chasing after fowls!
Sudzedrebel Apr 19
Mnemonic devices,
Order entices.
Yet, what drives the daily thirst?
What directs what we hunger for?
Strange tonics,
Concordance appetizes.
But who bottles what they distill?
What facts in feed do we receive?
Rough slough,
Sloppy knowledge.
Mayhaps, where few are not free pastures?
What cages themselves in self-battles?
Petty sows,
Birds that cuckoo.
You feel how you act, and think every day,
How do you schedule, your free time,
The hours to have fun and play,
Exploring something, getting out of the daily grind,
Getting lost in having fun, with no limit on time.
No distractions, hours just to go out and play,
Look for the positives around, no worries, think free,
Stop waiting for negative, news, or bad weather,
To have something to talk about, every day.
As people age, they seem to eliminate, excitement,
Looking for new accomplishments, or anything else,
Out of reach of a cell phone, or the sound, picture, of a TV,
The only way, to discover, your spirit, and soul,
Creating what makes you smile inside, introspection, times alone,
Forget about, that extra hour one late night, that could be the moment,
You discover your purpose in this life, and your inner soul.



                                The original Tom Maxwell ©  3/20/2025 AD
A thought to ponder on, the people  who originally made the rules,
Eat three meals a day, along with eight hours of sleep each day, it did not work, they died a long time ago. Do what works for you
Sudzedrebel Apr 18
Now, if I have a good idea
Or something that would be beneficial,
Does this mean I am required to share it?
That you are deserving of it
Regardless of my judgements?

If I see you about to do something wrong
Or that I am sure of will be a mistake,
Does that mean I am required to help you?
That you are worthy of it
Regardless of my verdicts?
Nope!
But it does make you a proper ****.
Sudzedrebel Apr 17
I thought afar, yet never wandered.
Always saw that what I never watched.

For the distant blaze, I brought forth the horizon.
But, the landscapes turned to patchwork swatches all at once.

By Speare you drove your votives,
That which was a work of prose.
By reality, it was as an artist's pose
On a good kind of love.

For a lover is a writer,
Whether with ink & quill
Or lead & wood cylindrical.
For a lover is a writer,
Whether with chisel & stone
Or dynamite & the mountains.

Whether they write in constellations
Or draw in the sand on the beach,
Time it will take us.

For time, it shall take us.

But, in time,
Will there be that which is loving?

What say the scars unseen?

The deep peaks & valleys cut?
That which you etch
Without ever touching it?
Damocles Apr 17
Through the shine of the window
As the sun teases the flesh of her hero,
She stretches upon the mattress,
Annoys him with her lapped kiss
All across the face, begging him to rise.

Here at her bowl,
She wags and waits for his control
As he gets, a scoop full of her favorite yummies,
How she salivates drools with an ache in her tummy
My girl, she devours within moments
And then she sits, waiting for the moment
I submit, those doe eyes looking up at me

We go, the backyard retreat.
She gives her red flying disc
And I throw to the distance, hitting the fence
She runs with a thunderous speed
And we repeat until we both take a tiresome seat
And through her panting and unrelenting breaths
I see her smile and know I am loved,
By my most precious pet.
My dog is a pit-lab mix, she's 6 years old but acts every bit of 6 months still. So much energy, and so much blind devotion. I love her so much, she's like a second child to me.
Sudzedrebel Apr 16
"Great!" They said.

"So I'll be you, and you be me?"

"Correct!"

"And you'll be them, and they'll be you?"

"Accurate!"

And so they all swapped their devices,
All took each other's names/profiles,
Saying nothing of what they were actually doing!

"So who will I even be talking to?"

"Don't worry, you'll know it!"

"But how will I understand it as them?"

"Wouldn't you know if you didn't?"
For all the modulations were done by third-party, not on the devices in question! Each created communication was as a crafted message!
Sudzedrebel Apr 16
"But what of these truths?" Asked Plato of Socrates.

"But what is truth in purest essence?
For what of the material is purely true?
Yet, by the very nature of the immaterial,
What may we ever quantifiably call truth which we ourselves have no alternative way of examining?
In going so far as to ask for an answer, you must already have proof.
What proof is there that there is truth?"
Spoke Socrates.

"Mentor, you ramble."
Spoke Plato.

"Pupil, I rumble!"
Spoke Socrates.
The natural check & balance:
Discussion.
Sudzedrebel Apr 16
Meal's on you, ace.
Meals of you, ace.
As just but a deck of cards
Among tables of strung-out gamblers;
What's blackjack to a game of craps?
Suppose it's a matter
Of the rules of the sitting chaps,
Though I've never seen drunks wetter.
It's innumerable cards of the same face,
For each is but another portrait of indifference.
It's innumerable dealers of the same things,
For each is closer in similarity than farther in dissension.

To love to play
Is not the same as a play of love.

Yet, to make life a game
Is not the same as the "game" of life itself.
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