The Apple

The Apple

A knife went into an Apple.

There was juice everywhere.

The sweetness of an Apple abounds.

With the juice everywhere.

The apple got peeled first and its skin

lay curled up to the side, done with.

So cold, so hard.

So cold, so hard…

Wanting all of the flesh.

Inside of the skin.

An apple is reduced to it’s core

teethmarks mark the end,

of it’s sweetness.

the core lays next to its skin,

no longer an apple.

The Pie

Slice and slice and slice, lay in goo,

concentrated in the hottest of heats

for the perfect amount of time.

blanketed.

with an occasional hole for air.

the intense heat had to abate

And

you couldn’t help your mouth.

from attacking the goo,

oozing out from the slits

that were made for cooling.

The Bruised Apple

An apple got tossed rather hard

against the bottom of a barrel.

She cried out, but the other apples

used her to bounce off of

to save themselves from bruising.

She, with her bruise, felt the weight

of the other apples,

She was at the bottom of the barrel

carrying the weight of undeserving apples

and they smirked thinking

I will never be a bruised apple.

But the bruised apple bore her burden

and her bruise, to her amusement and tears got bigger

and bigger

and bigger.

Soon she was flat out rotten.

And then they were too.

The Golden Apple

I fell in love with a Golden Apple.

All it took was a glimpse of the gold.

Red apples abound, ready to be boxed and sold for juices,

ciders, pies and other repetitive rituals.

I don’t know where the gold apple came from.

She was lost in the throng, on top of a barrel of red apples

obvlious to how obvious she was.

Nobody else saw her.

I knew she tasted different, so I put her in my pocket.

I’m sitting at the dock, watching the moon, with my

Golden Apple.

The Lady Apple

You need to eat the Lady Apple while in season.

Otherwise she tastes sour.

A  Lady Apple is handed to me.

I stand there wit her in my hand,

wondering if she’s ready yet.

I take a bite anyway.

The Candied Apple

So nutty, with a decadent sweetness about you.

you were held on stick, waiting to be enjoyed by

someone like me.

you were so perfect,

indulging me with your body,

so sweet and nutty, carrying the heavy goo of caramel.

Not everyone likes sweet, not everyone likes nuts but I love it.

Even the toothache I get eating you.

When I reach your core I realize I got through the caramel and nuts that

led me to the naked natural sweetness of your flesh and that it

is very good for my teeth.

The Fallen Apple

It was a starry night, that a sudden wind

suddenly blew through the orchard and

an apple fell from its tree.

It was harvest time. and he looked up at the sky and

watched the moon turn to dusk then the dusk turn to day.

The workers came and from the ground, the apple saw

his friends and family and even strangers he didn’t know get picked.

To his horror, an apple that had a catepillar hole eaten into him

got thrown to the ground and landed next to him.

Oh no, said the worm eaten apple. We’re going to die here alone.

They would have held hands but they weren’t close enough.

I know I still taste good, said the worm eaten apple. Oh I’m good for something.

Even if I’m on the ground.

The apple listened to his worm eaten friend and sat still and shone,

hoping a worker would notice him.

But the apples hanging high on the trees were the ones that were wanted.

The crowd of workers worked on, laughing, oblivious to his fear.

Soon he stopped being scared and accepted that, apples that were on the ground

weren’t wanted.

The apple and the worm eaten apple were silent, sitting in the sun, and day after day

the workers came to never notice them.

So he and his friend lay there, wrinkled and becoming more and more food for the tree,

that held all the hanging apples.

Bobbing for Apples

I got thrown into a vat of cold water

head first,

in this silly game.

I was trying to get an apple.

Mouth flapping open and shut not really saying anything

coming up for air, you look at the apples, floating about

in their simple shape and form and you wonder

why am I playing this game?

nobody is good at this game, but if you are good at it

it is still a really silly game to be good at. so that’s funny too.

all you want is a conclusion and for the sake of the party

you make a fool of yourself, getting wet, not using the obvious limbs

and flapping your mouth open and shut, not saying anything.

soon you grab an apple and you emerge laughing at yourself,

with an apple in your teeth and your hands tied behind your back,

laughing because

you know you look as stupid as you feel.

The Bag of Apples

A family of apples traveled as far as you could imagine:

from a tree, to the barrel, to the truck, to the store,  to the bag.

It was in the bag that they were transported to a home where they sat in

uncertain coolness, waiting…

They sat together, silent, familiar with each other from their journeys

until one of them started to cry uncertainly.

Evil lurked about. They sat in darkness and when the light came on and the door opened, one of them was chosen to feast upon.

there’s so much I want to say, so much I want to do said one apple as the door opened. consequently, because of where he was laying, he was lifted from the bag and taken away, his eyes closed in prayer.

Days past, and each apple slowly disappeared into the hands of the hungry. There was one apple left when the door opened at an unnatural time of the night. A small hand lifted an apple out-

and with him took it to bed.

the apple was confused and scared and as he was held by the small hand he felt a wetness and looked to see a small child, hungry and crying. He felt the teeth into his flesh and felt gladness when the as a core, he saw the child sleep.

He died a happy apple.

The Forbidden Fruit

My great great great great great great ancestor at the beginning of time

was the most lethal fruit a man and woman could eat.

eating me meant, going to hell. Being apart from the only Great Good.

eating me meant, not being able to see the difference between dark and light.

eating me meant absolute shame.

eating me meant toil, toil, toil, and sweat and blood. and lots and lots of tears.

eating me meant you will cry and scream and yell for Great Good to return

only to be left alone. having only each other.

Today, I’m everywhere. you even put me in your pies and candy me, sweetening my already seducing taste, forgetting how sinful it was to eat me in the first place. you read about how bad it was, with an apple in your hand, waving me about as you talk about Eve’s mistake, taking a bite out of me before you say your prayers, then when you are done trying to reach the Great Good, you think about what else you could cook with your collection of apples.

Your Apples. If you only knew, if you only knew.

Frankenapple

So, an apple is engineered.

The DNA deliberately crossed for the healthiest gleam.

Dunked in the purest of pesticides to keep those pesky bugs away.

They never brown when they are manhandled. You bite into it and it stays as white as white can be.

Miraculous.

She was proud, believing to be the best, one of these apples, gleaming in her perfect health, never browning. Never browning.

Did I mention she never browned?

One beautiful and perfectly engineered apple was set in a fancy room, as was appropriate, and set on a piano. The tunes started and she was so proud as she felt her place was right for her.

The next thing that happened ruined everything for her.

An apple, yoo -hooing to her across the room, in a shiny plastic body, in form and color too perfect to be real got the engineered apple’s attention. The plastic apple laughed and showed her good time as the engineered apple performed on the piano-

but for what?

The Plastic Apple sat and gave her a smug smile, ruining everything. Unconsumable, only for display.

The Engineered Apple thought about her perfect flesh and looked at the hungry pianist, suddenly wondering what she was good for. And how long she was going to last.

Applesauce

I started off full bodied, complete and totally sweet.

Then, nakedly, slice by slice I was cut into a large doable mound,

and placed into a bowl,

at least it was with the company of others.

I lost the pieces of myself in the mix of the bowl.

My seeds were taken away from me.

The parts of me that got scattered about were lost forever,

but I remembered those pieces to this day. It’s ok, as it has to be.

There it was, this large pot, with steam streaming from it’s lid and I shut my eyes tight when all the heat tempered the old life and processed new life out of me.

I was so tired. But eventually the heat felt good.

Then I got beat to a pulp.

I’m in a big bowl now, in the mess of other bodies,

waiting to be put into a jar for other life to eat.

AppleSeeds

Not a lot of people know that in the center of all this sweet, juicy goodness,

there is poison in my seed.

No, not a lot of people know that.

Most people don’t eat the core of me, so it’s ok.

But if you bury the seed into the ground, an entire tree grows.