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Beautiful Brunch at Poppy Seed, Newtown
Last Sunday, we went out looking for a classy but not over the top breakfast spot with solid vegan options. We found all that and more at Poppy Seed, nested on a quiet Newtown side street.
Recipes
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The Battle by Aaron Edward Olson | Poetry
The BattleWhere are you Father?I will not leave you nor forsake you.Do you even know what I’m going through?I am the man who has seen affliction by the rod of your wrath.Iniquity was found; you strayed from my preordained path.I
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West Complex by Aaron Edward Olson | Poetry
West ComplexNightmares in my cell, layin’ on this cold cementWhite-walls in my visions, sweat pours out as I scream and ventMy flesh rises up to this devil’s entrapmentHated by the world there’s no doubt that I’m God sentHatred… ya’ hatred
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A Love Poem By Aaron Edward Olson
A Love PoemBy Aaron Edward OlsonUnsearchable beauty I found in thee at lastWhat eyes cannot see how quickly you passIf not for your heart so brave and so boldI’d have lost you my treasure more precious than goldTwo hearts become
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Three Poems from Pat Bergan
Cultivate People want likes, look for hot micsBut they don’t care that what they shareIs so much more than just a score.Yeah it’s bad, could be worse.You’re a gift, not a curse.We can see and embrace you.You don’t have to
What’s cooking?
About Me
Hi, I’m Angie, founder of Angie Eats
I am a cookbook author, food blogger, and content creator, exploring food from all over the world. Expect delicious recipes, restaurant reviews, and an occasional video! I hope you enjoy!
LIFESTYLE
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“Holy Space” & “And He Did Cast Himself Into The Sea.” by Michael Shoemaker | Poetry
Holy SpaceNot necessarily at MeccaEgypt or Jerusalemtoday’s holy placestarts in my small roomwhere I kneelin prayer and receivethe answer in my heartof how to helpmy brotherand godirectly to do itconverting anyand every placeinto an ever-expandingholy space.“And He Did Cast Himself
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Painted Hands by Alexandria Leon | Poetry
Painted HandsBright blue eyes find mine,clear as an open window.A silent knowing lingers:I am mother,a sanctuary.Paint-soaked hands reach for mine,a mural of joy.Red seeps into my skin.Red of autumn leaves.Red of spring strawberries.Red stitched through the flag.Red spilled in silence—a
