In times where laws; shielded me,
and years seemed like a lifetime,
I picked up unique oddity,
only to be mine,
other kids, chose candyfloss,
but savoury was my taste,
after playing in dirty moss,
I went to larder in haste,
detoured round the cookie jar,
Italian string my goal,
to send my boredom way afar,
no need to boil bowl,
the satisfying snap on teeth,
my past time memory,
kept all my woes underneath,
my weird made remedy,
fast forward, to today,
habit and vice are judged,
especially those, that are strange,
such is man, beloved,
but mark this, and mark it well,
a crutch makes a human,
one man’s heaven’s, another’s hell,
but we are all life’s crewmen,
so pick a faith, pick a practice,
leave scrutiny at home,
not everyone’s a Baptist,
not everyone’s from Rome,
so, I ate raw spaghetti,
I’m not trying to impress,
in a world that is so petty,
that recycles all the mess.
-
Author:
AuburnScribbler (
Offline) - Published: October 8th, 2023 09:04
- Comment from author about the poem: Habits, vices, crutches and oddities, we all have them. One of mine was (and sometimes when we have some in, still is) eating raw spaghetti from the packet. I particularly liked the sound of the strands breaking off my teeth. It amazed me and still amazes me, that such a simple activity, masked all the horrors of the daily routine made by mankind. The banner picture I've chosen to use, is reminiscent of the sideboard we used to have, where we chopped our vegetables on. I hope that you enjoy this somewhat "breakaway docu-poem," I hope that you embrace your strangeness, and as always, please stay safe everyone.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 0
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15
Offline)
Comments3
Funny and creative! Raw spaghetti is a little safer than what I enjoyed, which was snacking on paper!
Thanks for the read NinjaGirl, and for your lovely comment.
I have to admit, this was just one of my oddities I chose to write about, like you I also ate non-edibles such as paper, though, foolishly, I also gave my young body a real test once, by steadily eating through quarter of a remote control. To say it hurt in the aftermath, would be an understatement! But hey, a good immune system is a tested immune system hmm!?
Thanks again, and I hope that all is well.
I love this little confession, who does not have quirks that satisfy a need. Mine is in the way I ritualisticly eat oyster crackers, but only when I'm reading a book. You just own it. This was great!
Thanks for the read Bella, and for your very kind words.
Oyster crackers, I can probably get in to, but real oysters, once was enough for me, thank you very much! Hahaha!
Continue reading and munching, thanks again, and I hope that all is well.
Well as I live in the land of spaghetti I can say (yuck) 🤣 lol although this poem is truly wonderful, yes it's good to be different and we should never be shy to show it, my best friend eats raw pasta though I always look at her funny 🤣 🤣 even I'm not from Rome. A wonderful enjoyable read. ❤️
Thanks for the read and for favouriting this poem Teddy.15, it's very much appreciated.
All I can say to you is, don't knock it, 'til you've tried it! Hahaha! It's the same taste, only a lot crunchier, and of course lacking in bolognaise sauce.
I'm glad that you're on board with celebrating variety. In such a modern world, that creates servitude of popularism, thus, creates fleshling robots, our individualisms are our own core treasures, that we need to hold so dear.
Thanks again, and I hope that all is well.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.