fridge magnet poetry, or "what happens when you reduce the english language to a select few words"

Fridge magnet poetry, in my experience, always comes out sounding either deeply emotional...

shake me to the shadow
only to show me
my weakness

...somehow bitter...

she felt eternity trudge         
                       pound 
                               and fall through her
like drool over a honeyed winter death
aching with his cool beauty, a black symphony of woman worshipping man
but men are delicate and always they run

...dauntingly erotic...

as languid tongues part peach petals
delirious love milk soars frantic
over smooth white skin like summer rain

....or plainly silly...

want tiny gorgeous butt
must eat less chocolate

...perhaps it's just me.

In other news, I made my first ever batch of home made marmalade tonight, with oranges from my friend's tree. Poetry and cooking go together very well...

the little cook makes a sweetly bitter produce
burns it just a touch