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I need some new kettles. I always end up loosing or throwing them. I love a nice kettle. I have a serious lack of knowing what to say about a kettle. I love to cook in them and make yummy soup.
By Wendy URL on 08.11.2010
the kettle is whistling. can’t you hear it?
it sounds like a million birds chirping all at once.
the birds are all blue.
i brought you a kettle of water today, but you still didn’t wake up.
“Have some water.”
By guoshe URL on 08.11.2010
He picked up the old kettle. It was rusting slightly. He smiled, thinking of Lizzie, who made it for him so many years ago. He wondered where she was now. Watching him from above? Or maybe she had completely forgotten about her partner for all those years…
By Luvergal37 URL on 08.11.2010
Your iron kettle sits alone, one a porch that we forgot long ago. A porch caressed with wildflowers, colors so bright, they only exist in dreams.
By Brianna on 08.11.2010
She always did like to provoke him – to needle him with razor-thin words, prickling his tender flesh. And, like a kettle heated too early, he had a tendency to boil over.
By Anna URL on 08.11.2010
Take two. I wrote a poem about kettle.
A rant. Two e’s, the only vowel.
Its constant whistle-screach hurts
my ears. I wish it would just shut up
because pain is pain is my normal way
of being and if it doesn’t stop I am
going to throw that damn whistling kettle
across the room and its boiling water
will most certainly be destructive. Kettle.
By Julie Jordan Scott URL on 08.11.2010
She put the kettle on the burner and slumped back into her chair. She reached for the picture of her daughter, who had been taken and killed by the home invaders just weeks ago. Nothing will ever be the same.
By BasedOnFiction URL on 08.11.2010
Two mugs, one green and one purple. Fill em with tea, water hot from my kettle. Please oh please, tell me this is what you want.
By anonnymouse23 URL on 08.11.2010
so i have to write a bout kettle again
well i can say this, last night iwas walking and i saw a bag of kettle chips on the ground
i try not to litter, and i always notice it when im going about my business
but i found it interesting that the universe made me notice that when i just had to write about ‘kettle’ earlier in the day
By jahzel URL on 08.11.2010
The hog scalder is spilling forth pumpkin vines, coroneted, glorious. The kettle has new life with baby pumpkins peaking out from under the sunny blossoms.
By Jamie on 08.11.2010
You can try to paint the kettle a different color, you can put it in the tub and say it’s a rubber ducky, you can call it green, blue, or even neon chartreuse, but when a kettle is black, that’s just what it is.
By Justin URL on 08.11.2010
Hmm… kettles. Now is the pot calling the kettle black? Is that the right expression? Kettle has a double t.. I like double letters. Kettle is funny when you keep looking at it for a while. I think that kettles aren’t really used in my life, so I don’t quite know what to say…
By Hedy on 08.11.2010
I do not like kettle corn, I don’t feel it should be popped sweet, unless it is cracker jacks.
By Mary Lou Wynegar on 08.11.2010
When I see the word, I think of tea. Chai tea, to be exact. It’s my favourite. And I also picture the shiny steel of the kettle that sits on my stove… Whenever it comes to a boil, I want to duck and cover because it sounds like a bomb is about to go off.
By Sarah Churney on 08.11.2010
There is a kettle on my stove. IT screams at me every morning. “It’s hot, it’s hot, it’s hot!” Every morning I hear this shriek and I take it off the burner and relieve it of the scalding liquid inside. Into a china cup with a tea bag in it. Mint. Every morning.
By Moira URL on 08.11.2010
The kettle heats and sings a crooning wail of attention like a little girl who always cuts her hair and gets ferocious with a fever like spicy tea!
By Veronica URL on 08.11.2010
PUT ON the stove it will heat and bubble until the tea is ready. Soothing and known, the kettle has been the source of warmth on many a cold night – peppermint and happy memories.
By caity URL on 08.11.2010
I woke up this morning and put the kettle on the stove. Thinking about the day and everything it has to offer, but mostly how much I hate that I have to be at work in an hour. Then the kettle whistles and off I go.
By ME on 08.11.2010
Er steht auf dem Herd und pfeift. Pfeift, bis ihm die Puste ausgeht. Doch Oma hört es nicht. Wird ihn nie wieder pfeifen hören, denn sie liegt tot in ihrem Bett.
By LotteZwo URL on 08.11.2010
They liked to cuddle at night, the two of them. They liked to stare into each others eyes. Every night, their breasts knocked together, and for some reason that aroused them. Such is the mystery of the minds of two obese gay men.
By Alice URL on 08.11.2010
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.