#NPM2012: Prompt 11

Dude. What IS that?

15 thoughts on “#NPM2012: Prompt 11

  1. (So, this is complete nonsense today. Don’t even ask me what the “it” is. I don’t know. — Kevin)

    It was shrewd of you, dude,
    to hide it behind the brew
    ’cause our crew would never come through
    the kitchen but I knew what you’d do –
    you’re so predictable, if not crude,
    so I’ll just stand back here with you
    and watch them stew and brood
    and plot and plan, certainly no longer subdued,
    and then I’ll bid you all adieu amidst
    the rumbling ballyhoo.
    🙂

    The podcast (fun to read!): http://cinch.fm/dogtrax/poetry-podcasts/421889

  2. Danya y. says:

    In the middle of the night,
    I woke up and went downstairs.
    I opened the refrigerator door,
    And peeked inside.
    Ah…
    There is no more of my favorite,
    Delicious, the most delightful brownies
    In there.
    How they make my mouth watery.
    How delicious they taste.
    I went upstairs,
    Back to my bedroom,
    Dreaming about brownies.

  3. mselke01 says:

    Many years later…

    A simple day –
    An ordinary moment

    Peering into the fridge I
    mentally rehearse the
    grocery list.

    Softly sighing,
    I barely remember the magic
    that once filled me.

    From the edges of my mind
    comes the faint whisper of
    a roar.

    Surely that isn’t a
    lamppost
    peeking out from
    behind the wilting lettuce?

    Scratching a note on the
    back of a Chinese menu, I
    dart inside and
    slam the door behind me.

    “Don’t expect my return,
    I’ve rediscovered
    Magic.

    Love to all,
    Edmund”

  4. The eternal questions
    Does the light stay on or off when I close the door?
    do calories count when consumed standing in front of the refrigerator?
    does the FDA seriously consider ketchup a condiment?
    and finally, it is now a proven fact
    there are no know edible navy blue foods

  5. Amy Rudd says:

    Here’s my poem to go with the pic…

    Young Mr. Hubbard
    Did pass the cupboard
    To get his poor tummy some chow
    When he opened the fridge door
    The stench knocked him to the floor,
    And he yelled out, “Dude what IS that?”

  6. That night,
    While all the house a slept,
    Mine feet into the kitchen
    crept.

    The icebox door
    (was not a jar),
    Entice-ed me
    yet from afar.

    As close-ed, as it was,
    It beckoned.
    Hence, (I reasoned)
    ((And I reckoned))

    Open it, I must,
    It seemed,
    And doing so,
    Perceived a
    SCREAM !!!

    “Oh, CLOSE IT!
    Close the door,” (A lesson!)
    “Can’t you see,
    The Salad Dressin’ ???”

  7. these hunger games are feeling real
    I’m utterly starving for my next meal
    the fridge seems empty, no dice, no deal
    all I see is mayo, but not how I feel
    not even a morsel for me to steal
    nothing to peal, nothing to congeal
    I may need to invent the wheel…of cheese

  8. Amy Rudd says:

    http://theamyrudder.blogspot.com/2012/04/young-mr-hubbard.html
    Love the picture and the poem it inspired…although, I am still not sure what he saw…I wonder!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.