Poems From Luncheon

Faculty Table.

An egg is just waiting to come out of its shell,

Contemplating ways to shatter porcelain walls

3 minutes + counting = there goes the bell!

BOOM! POW! SPLAT!

FYCC Faculty Table

Scramble eggs are on our weekend table

we sit around its oval shape and share its bounty

in all ways it is presented

ah the wonder of the egg.

Shaina, Jessica, Tikia, and Shara Tabke

Some may like me scrambled

some may like me fried

some may like me boiled

and some may like me dyed

ovens-easy or Sunnyside up

I prefer myself whole and untouched.

Teisis, Steven, Hernandez, and wu. Table.

I came out in many ways, big and small, brown and white,

and a little dirt on my sides. They take me away right away

and never seeing my mother ever again. On my way I figure

I will end up being just a broken egg. Without my shell I lose

my privacy and that would be my end. That is a sad story of an egg.                                          

Stephanie, Robert, Sharan, and Eunji Table.

Chick, chick let me out I want to walk and look around

Chick, chick let me be, I want to be free

Chick, chick let me hear a snap, I think my shell is about to crack

Chick, chick I hear OMG this flying pan feels so hot!

Aoxin, Wen, Carman, and Rosa Table.

                

The beginning to the end

hard on the outside,

delicate on the inside,

the shell is your clothes,

and the rest is your life.

Antonieta, Samael, Maha, and Wilson Table.

 

To be oval in a square world, a home for some

a son for some, and a meal for others. Can be a strong soul

or a satisfaction. A single crack can destroy mu soul,

a dairy product that gives us strength is the one to blame for

this insane world.

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