Delicious Phrases

Just another weblog

unexpected rainbows July 28, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — deliciousphrases @ 12:02 am
unexpected rainbows come to me
as i lift my head from my stupor
and look over at the spider
in the corner of my room
spinning a web of gossamer threads
my heart soars as i see him toil
i imagine how time slips by for him
but it matters not, caught as he is
in the moment for its own sake
blithely, he stops, as if to look at me
and continues without as much as a
“by your leave sir”
or at least, that is what i imagine
i resume my reading, transported once more
i am immersed within the pages
a willing participant, yet so much more
i feel, i see, i experience as words fly
from the parchment beneath my fingers
i am trapped by the beauty from the author
i see the colours in my mind’s eye
as i try to capture them in my hands
but they leak out and i must share them
with the next one
i see it now
as i dream of my own words on the paper
before me
perfectly white
glistening like winter’s first snow
on a grey morning early in december
unlike me 
it is unblemished
unspoiled by time and experience
as i watch the paper
i can see the words forming
cascading from my mind
caught on the page forever
yet jubilant 
imagination captured in mere words
i think not
filling my head with God’s wonder
unexpected rainbows
(with many thanks to hroshi for the idea)

Apples in May July 10, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — deliciousphrases @ 3:16 am

Small and petulant,

Barely more than a whisper,

Inaudible, but to the branch that bears it, the bud begins to stir.

 Ignorant and uncaring

Oblivious, if you will, to the cacophony that awaits it.

Time hurtles past.

Bursting forth, light explodes, senses overwhelmed.

Nothing can hide from the awakening chaos,

Nowhere to go.

Others try, shrivel to dust, spent.

They are the lucky ones.

Many more fall to the darkness below.

Captivated by the creeping mass.

Still others, blossoming; fluorishing; perfecting.

Eyes fixed on the prize,

Nebulous dreams, whispy nightmares.

Golden morning, time to pick you.

Take a bite, appetite for spring’s first taste swelling.

Juicy, yes, but not what I would expect for one so new.

Savoury, no, not at all…


Alas, for a certainty, yet not without merit.

Nourishment, at least.

It is what drives us onward.

 .                                  EB


I Was, Once July 6, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — deliciousphrases @ 1:41 pm

Old beams, silver-grey’d with time

The trails of long-dead worms etched across their surface

Cut, hewn

Lifted into place – heave! Heave!


Carefully aligned, then

Settling down with a sigh

To be functional for generations

Then to be useless

Then to wait … to wait …


For someone to sit,

To listen

To pause from the noise of life and hear

“I was, once…” whispered through the dust


………….. bg


I was, once. June 29, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — deliciousphrases @ 5:14 am

There was a time when I was…

Worthy of more than just your scorn.

Valued more than your grandmother’s faded linens.

Someone who had something to say.


Now I sit and wonder what it all means.

Why the earth seems to revolve without care for me?

What does a man measure his worth by?

A faded photograph of you, collecting dust, shoved in a drawer

Under a silk bandana.

Yours, I think.

I mattered to you, didn’t I?


I was, once.



Worth June 28, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — deliciousphrases @ 6:04 pm

I once,

was insignificant.

a cloud

passing by

never getting in the way

of the sun.

and then

you found me.



GIVING SHAPE TO April 29, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — deliciousphrases @ 5:24 am

This week’s delicious phrase

sparked a sand art memory

of Kseniya Simonova—

—artiste and creator

giving shape to

scenes of love, peace

war … loss

invasion, destruction

longing … tears




—creating beauty

as though

nothing else matters


for more sand art inspiration

watch these YouTube clips 


or find Kseniya on


Giving shape to…

Filed under: Uncategorized — deliciousphrases @ 3:56 am

Why is it that no one thinks?

Alone and afraid, the mind waits

For someone to use it.

It is wasted on the mundane and the irrelevant

Giving shape to the formless lump that sits in so many

Rotting, languishing and living

Not at all.