Poems about pancakes

I sometimes think of what could've been or what needs to be.
I fight with what battle scars and a chipped tooth,
Nose bleed and churned stomach.
I overthink the unthinkable thoughts that think they're slick but thought wrong.
We sometimes ejaculate false words or ideas that never play through.
My porcelain fingertips bursts as I try to touch within you.
Cold as a throat,
Hot as my heart.
Annoyed with the constant bleeding and choking.
You give me hot buttered love,
Melting me like m& ms in a fat girl's pocket.
My heart's been played more than an Al Green record at a fish fry.

A shadow fell across the plains
As the air grew cold.
Thunder rolled up in the sky.
The day and me
Both growing old.
And as the lightning pierced the clouds.
My tired eyes were on the road.
A lesson lived
A lesson learned.
We can't live on love alone.

Up ahead a diner.
A respite from the cold and rain.
Shelter with a greasy spoon.
A place for time to while away.
Upon the foggy window
I scrawl a heart around our names
And as the waitress brings my food,
I quickly wipe it all away.

Maple syrup pancakes,
Foreign to my Irish tongue.
The bacon here's to crispy,
And everybody has a gun.
I wonder what I'd do with one.
That danger in my hands.
Shoot my way to glory,
Or fall upon the promised land.

A rumble of thunder brings me back.
Reality ensues.
All the madness leaves my mind,
Then it's left with you.
Seven thousand miles away
Waiting on your own.
I leave that thought there
With the tip.
And return to the road.

Outside the air is crispy,
Like the bacon in the bin.
Now its time to focus,
Channel out a way to win.
The road ahead might bring the rain.
Alas I must go on.
The jukebox through the window
Singing out our favourite song.

When I was little
I could never decide
What I wanted as a topping
For my pancakes.
Now I have to decide
Where I want my life to go,
What college I want to go to,
What I want to save up for,
What I want want to be.
I don't want to have
To make all those decisions,
I just want sugar.

Only two more hours of work
On this rainy Thursday afternoon,
And with each step I take
I check the clock
And between my heavy breathing
I mutter to myself with a smile:
"today can't escape tomorrow. "

...

Sunday morning and we eat like royalty,
I'm all smiles and her eyes are all over me
And with these empty plates between us
I tell her I don't want this day to end,
And as a longing grin shows on her lips
She so eloquently says
"but today can't escape tomorrow. "

And that night, we laid half-drunk
In our friend's mother's bed

I, in my trousers
You, in your shorts

We whispered softly
And I held you close

I gripped your hand
And you cradled my heart

I said "If this is the only thing
That will ever happen between us,
I'll still be happy"

We fell asleep and awoke
Three hours later; the next morning

I took you out for pancakes and we sat in silence
And you acted as if nothing ever happened.

One lady pancake sitting in a pan,
She patiently waiting for her pancake man,
Splash here he comes,
As he drops in by her side,
Only to be tossed out again,
As they both become gently fried,
Quickly again united,
When placed upon a plate,
A splash of lemon,
And a sprinkle of sugar,
Before both of them got ate!

JB

Hot sourdough pancakes
Smothered in maple syrup
Cat at the window

Mix, mixing all the ingredients become one
Flip, flop, golden brown
Yum, num add maple syrup
Cut, cutting pick up with fork
Chew, taste oh that taste good!