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Introspection Food Poems | Introspection Poems About Food

These Introspection Food poems are examples of Introspection poems about Food. These are the best examples of Introspection Food poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Couplet | |

A Bag of Popcorn

They ask me why I’m so happy
Asking me, if I just won a prize
I replied, well I reckon I did
Today is a wonderful surprise

When you have a past like mine
My today is always bright
There is no better feeling on earth
Than the joy of doing right

I may be an old man on a cane
My heart is skipping along
I learned to embrace the meaning
Life is a beautiful song

True life has its ups and downs
There’ll be forks in the road
With a smile I’ll stop for a while
Help you with your load

I had me a bag of popcorn today
It tasted exceptionally good
In fact, I will go as far as to say
Better then it probably should

For years, I had a guard in the pen
Popped him a bag each night
Then he would simply throw it away
His twisted little delight

He knew, it was those little things
Ate at our heart and soul
Movie with the wife Friday night
Popcorn in the bowl

I had a bag of popcorn today
Wife sitting at my side
I had a smile, which lasted awhile
One I could not hide

They ask me why I’m so happy
Asking me, if I won a prize
I replied, I reckon I did
Today is a wonderful surprise


For some reason today I was thinking about C.O. Talbert and
how he would pop a bag of popcorn even though he didn't eat
popcorn. He did it just because he knew it would make everyone
want some. I always felt sorry for him. His life must have been
very disappointing. The moral here: when you learn to appreciate
the little things in life your popcorn will taste a whole lot better. 



Details | Pantoum | |

A Womans Gift

She laughed as softly  as if she cried
Her smile revealed things only I could see
My love and joy swelled up untill I cried
I wondered  though would she ever love me

Her smile revealed things only I could see
Now would I tell her of the things I thought
I wondered though would she ever love me
What is this feeling that has made me taut

Now would I tell her of  the things I thought
All other food but  love I'd surely spare
What is this feeling that has made me taut
My life I'd gently give to her  with care

All other food but love I'd surely spare
Then I would be hers and she would be mine
My life I'd gently give to her with care
I'd love her dearly throughout time

Then I  would be hers and she would be mine
A life together we would have to build
I'd love her dearly throughout time
I'd be her love, companion and her shield

A life together we would have to build 
My love and joy swelled up until I cried
I'd be her love,companion and her shield
She laughed as softly as if she cried


Details | Bio | |

All about Dan

So you want to get to know me, ok, well here goes. Most of it's in my poetry, but I may have left something out, who knows? For the last twenty years, I've been wearing Nike high tops that are black. They're alot easier to clean then white ones, that is a definite fact. My friends all seem to like me, and I greet them all with a big smile. I've met alot of them through a life of partying, but now thats been over for awhile. My favorite book is the bible, because whenever I read it I learn something new. My favorite movie I couldn't really tell you, since I have seen oh, quite a few. My favorite song is from Tim McGraw, it's "Live Like You Were Dying" In a funny kind of way it refreshes my soul, and I usually end up crying. Favorite singer I don't really have one, so I guess it would have to be myself. Because I just love it when I sing all the words, and don't need anyones help. My hair is a dirty blond thats straight,short and very fine. It doesn't have a single curl, and I know it's all still mine. My favorite shampoo is Pert, it leaves my hair so silky smooth. With the fine and thining hair that I have, it's the one I prefer to use. My favorite food is pizza, but fresh baked bread is my favorite smell. If I had a food I'd eat everyday, that is the one that would put me through hell. I have everything I need,with only a few things that I dislike. The only thing I want or really need, is the love of my loving wife.
Dan Kearley:5-25-12 Contest:All About ____???


Details | Light Poetry | |

Bordeaux Kiss

I set the table, place for one
Pour the wine, cork undone
Filet mignon, to perfection done
Topped with greens, and a sauce of rum

The evening sets, as it always had
A gourmet meal, aint so bad
I make a toast to the other side
As silence waits, I must abide

As I hold my glass
Of Bordeaux wine
I dare to wish but for one more thing
In darkened silence, the phone to ring

Soufflé simply will not do
There is no sweet without you
The perfect meal evades me still
The evening fades into a chill

Sleep evades my dreamy mind
And in the haze of wishful thoughts
Dinner was served
With a Kiss


Details | Verse | |

A Coffee Bar with Orange Paint

A coffee bar with orange paint --
   Brown tables on a tiled, grey floor --
Soft light within blown glass above --
   A neon sign hangs by the door.

I come here sometimes just to write.
   A coffee bar with orange paint
To some would be apalling; but
   I do not see it as a taint.

Tonight an artist's work is hung
   Upon those walls in bold display;
A coffee bar with orange paint
   Allows her dreams to have their say.

I like the color in these walls --
   A brazen hue, not pale or quaint;
And in this place I weave my words --
   A coffee bar with orange paint.


Details | Couplet | |

Emotional Stew

What is emotional stew, you ask
Describing that is in itself a task 

It's a motley mix of chunks and bits
In a pot of feelings where everything fits

Sometimes the batter will taste so sweet
When joy and relief make up the meat

The stew can be peppered with many a spice
Like anger, frustration, and stubborn rice

Or a salty blend with sauce of tears
When sadness combines with multiple fears

The results may yield just one small fault
If you add boredom and apathy without any salt

The coals beneath are stoked to perfection
After dumping in your emotional selection

The stew will boil as the feelings grow
Just mind the mixture, don't let it overflow!


Details | Rhyme | |

Living The Dream

Down in Haiti
Far from the dream
Way on back 
From the vacation scene

Lives the people
Trapped in a life
Poverty, sadness
Toil and strife

Children weeping
From worm infested,
Swollen, malnourished
Starving little bellies

What would Golden 
Flower think of today
The country she loved
Destroyed in such a way


(Missionary from Haiti came to visit our church yesterday.  With his visit and 
talk, I see solutions to problems in an instant.  Something to treat the water 
before the people use it, reforestation, wells in places that need them, and 
proper out door facilities for areas that don't have them.  Money, work, and 
time is needed to carry these projects out .)


Details | Couplet | |

Living the Dream

My nightmare is so tangible...so vividly I dream,
The dream, it feels so true to me...reality it seems.

Exhaust and smoke are all I breathe...the air is full of smog...
The job I do is thankless toil, but I work it like a dog.

There's mercury in the fish I eat...there're toxins in my food...
And drugs, they are a constant scourge...myriads for every mood.

Bipolar is my government...a house divided 'tis...
And corporations drive both sides...in the pockets of "Big Biz".

The icecaps, they are melting...the sea is rising, too.
Pandas, condors, polar bears -- empty cages at the zoo.

My money ne'er seems quite enough...I'm always out of cash...
My freedom fled when I wed my bride...(live I under the lash).

"Entertainment"? Reality TV...maybe some vampire shows...
Or idjits becoming household names for being beachfront "ho's".

People clamor "climate change" from the seats of S.U.V.'s,
And bitter news on the honey front...what's killing all the bees?

Politicians spending more...we go deeper in the red.
Opinions dressed as "news" abound...is journalism dead?

Cell phones are ubiquitous...conversation's endangered now...
And "Kardashians" are famous girls..but who knows why or how?

How strange my twisted psyche is t'make real what must be fake...
Now'f only I could find some way to get myself to wake.


Written on November 27th, 2012
By Daniel Beus (Rebel Sun)


Details | Couplet | |

What Do I Know About Being German

Born American, sixth generation of great-grands all German,
not much liking sausage or sauerkraut, English speaking all the way,

except the Germany of my ancestry was fought over and broken
so I’m a bit of France, Germany, Poland, Hungary all the Holy

Roman empire, dissolved down, fought over, egotized, horrified 
and remade Into some new state where English is as common as German.

We share a love of flowers in the face of cold and rain, I drink less beer
and wine, meet up somewhere, anywhere around the world on a beach.

From my parents and grandparents, I know to serve up too much food
seven sweets, seven sours and drink and whirl the night away to a band.

Hardworking sorts, unafraid of a little dirt, loving dirt, the turnover
and young sprout brought to fruit, wearing overalls and then washing up.

To sit before a pressed linen table cloth, served up on the finest china,
the cha in my father’s name, the uff da, and other exclamations.

The morning rosaries, the blessed churches where we give thanks for all good
and the setting aside of pride while we work together to make our food.

Sure there are aprons for cooking. Shorts for summertime. A dive into any pool.
What do I know of being German, not much, it's just somewhere in my roots.


Details | Haiku | |

Make Healthy Choices

live as if you plan
to be an organ donor--
make healthy choices


Details | Rhyme | |

He Fled

He fled the faces of his brood --
They cut his soul with edges sharp
From lack of food.
And, although their mouths
Voiced no complaint,
The steady, unaccusing stare
Was so much more than he could bear --
This hero of two foreign wars.
He cowers now in alleyways
(And drinks his courage from a jar)
Beneath a far, unjudging star.


Details | Tanka | |

Regret



Can you hear the sound

     a voice calling out to you

        whispers of times gone

            a could have should have would have

                  regret is a lonely tune...


Details | Lyric | |

Magic Beans

European-style elegance
Meets modern ingenuity
Where stools too high to sit in welcome tired feet in flip flops
Near the tourist bookstore
Standing just across the street
In tasteful jingles ~
Creaking through the heavy door
The ordinary becomes more.

Voices rise over carafe’s,
Through Musak in the old café
Where egg-shell mugs are neatly stacked below a chalkboard menu.
And in-between glossy lacquers
A ritual of life endures ~
With whipped cream topping
And a dash of chocolate sprinkles.


Details | Lyric | |

The Hunger Drug

I can't remember
when I ate 
my last meal
How many weeks ago was it?

I cannot recall

or even what it was 
that I had to eat
Turkey I think
on Thanksgiving

Yes, it was Turkey

A turkey 
that some 
generous person
donated 
to the food pantry
that they gave to me

Did 
that generous person know?
Do they know?
That it would be
my only meal

for days and weeks
on end

probably not

and so I wanted 
to write these words
to tell them
“Thank You”

that they made 
a difference 
in my life

that I 
and my children
did not 
have to go to bed
 hungry

three weeks ago
on Thanksgiving
and it was wonderful

I am trying to remember
what that 
felt like


© Christine A Kysely All Rights Reserved
(December 8th, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin USA)


Details | Free verse | |

Cookies-Food For Thought

Cookies -
Why can’t I have the chocolate one
I want more
She took my cookie
Hers is bigger than mine
I want to trade
That’s not fair

Cookies +
Thank you for the cookie
I love you
Thanks for all you do for me
I am satisfied
This is good
I am loved
Written By  Deborah Finneran :)  2013


Details | Sonnet | |

chicken's chicken soup

chicken soup for the chicken
when the egg starts to thicken
when the yoke's rollin' right
when the white's clear 'n' bright

when the roosters sittin' roostin'
when the hen's right for a'goosin'
when the coop's are all a'coupin'
when said rooster ain't a'droopin'

when the desire's too demandin'
an' all else is notwithstandin'
an' chicken's tongue's unbeaked to cluck
an' sip the soup of what the - heck

that's what makes the chicken flutter
an' Grand Ma don't cook it no better

...that's why the hen crossed the road

© Goode Guy 2014-02-19


Details | Limerick | |

Two-Fifty-Four

Two-Fifty-Four
©2012 C. Brent Cloyd

I bought a new scale at the Wal-Mart store.
Made it secure and level on the floor.
I took a breath, then stepped on.
The digits I saw made me moan.
Surely, I do not weigh two-fifty-four!

Let’s balance the scale, then I’ll try once more.
Adjusted proper, they’ll give the right score.
This time the scales will behave.
I stepped on, tried to be brave.
But with a grin they said “two-fifty-four”.

I would like to throw these scales out the door.
Wish they were lying, but I can’t ignore. 
I’ve gobbled many things sweet
And chewed on too much red meat.
My expanding poundage is “two-fifty-four”.

My belly is huge, my chin is galore.
Need to lose it, but process is a chore.
Need diet low in fat and starch.
So my stomach will not arch.
Hope to be smaller than “two-fifty-four”.

Would a brisk walk cause my health to restore?
Would losing blubber help me not to snore?
Let’s get started. Soon I say!
Well - after the holiday!
Cause my clothes don’t fit at “two-fifty-four”.














Details | Rhyme | |

Black Coffee and Apple Pie

Everything a body could need
How happy could it make you be
When nothing can make you is fulfilled
As black coffee and apple pie ending your meal


Details | Senryu | |

' Golden Harvest ... ' 40th Senryu

    Golden, Full Moon Shone
On All The Harvest, That’s Grown
    Welcome In Our Home


Details | Senryu | |

Temptation

_________________________


Gramma's apple pie
caught my eye upon the shelf-
a forbidding sight..........


_________________________

Contest ~ Apples ? Oranges ?


Details | Epigram | |

Sin Not

Evil thoughts equal sin
One must purge them within


Details | Narrative | |

A Very Fine Line - The Restaurant

I just walked past the restaurant
A terrific place I used to go
Early in the evening hours
Of a chilly and recent past night
The fullness of the moon cast a memory
Reminders of my having traveled to these places so often
beneath its comfortable glow.

Places like this I used to dine
In what seems like so many moons ago
Could it have really just have been
Only seemingly late last year?
And then I realized I was outside a window

On the outside looking in
I am on the outside looking in
Of a place where I might or could have been
Tonight or any other evening
And I had been here oh so recently
Only a very short year ago.

Today the price of entry to this place
Is way beyond my meager means.
I recollected that being seen here
Had been so important to me
Now it is the last thought I hold dear.

I saw the fancy tables
of where I used to dine
With only the finest crystal
That held the finest wines.

I saw romantic candles
Flickering and burning bright
I saw tables surrounded with beaming faces
Flushed and filled with anticipatory delight
Anticipation of the wondrous delicacies
They would all soon have and behold.

I saw the sommelier pouring wine
Bottles and endless bottles
Of all the nectars considered to be in vogue
Every one of their prices
Deemed them to taste like liquid gold.

All drinks designed to compliment
The amazing and stylish cuisines
Posh dinners were arriving quickly
Looking as though from magazines
Arranged and prepared with minute details
Nothing ever missing, nothing out of place
Happiness was everywhere.
Joy radiated from every face.

And as the November wind
Begins to blow
I turned my head to go
To walk toward my empty street
My scarf wrapped tightly against the night.
Striding ever more quickly
Trying to beat the wind and cold
I had some thoughts and revelations
About that what I had just seen.

About those who have never been waited upon
Never in their whole lives
And about those who dine within those walls
Whose thoughts have never even considered
That they could end up on the outside looking in.

I who now know for certain
That it is such a very thin line
Between being poor and living fine.

And now I have to wonder
If being there had been some sort of sin
And now that is now the reason
I am on the outside
On the outside looking in
To The Restaurant.

(November 15, 2010 Wausau, Wisconsin)

(c) Copyright 2010 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved 


Details | I do not know? | |

two

water melon in my garden
like the sun and moon
just two… 
”...launcher ready…”
steady my hand
tending the weeds
near a row of beans
a far away land
”...it’s not a good time…”
so I wondered
and thought of when
wars are just plays
staged in the hands
of writers like me…
I’d arm the nations
with radish leaves
squash for bullets
that unload seeds
Peanuts money
on my jelly spread
I’d share the health
giving lettuce, head…
”... is it a good time now?...”
who wants a cow
chickens grown
in crowded pens
suffering blows
in.human.e hands
glitters the water
between the corn
I’d sale on ships
into rosebud shores
and i’d grow my fish
in between the stores
”...I’m god in my garden…”
and I divide the rows
soing what suits me
in tomato groves
and near my basil
I’ll build a school
teaching the mint
just how to be cool
and over hear
the potatoes anchor
on stalks of beer
”...wellcome…”
to chi…
banana central
read booms of cheer
...but they say I’m mental.
lentils 
are sooo good in soup!
my capitals
I declare are true!
I only cook 
When I brew my stew…
and no one regrets
in the garden of Sue.
”...yes piglet…”
I was Just
Making sure of you.


Details | Rhyme | |

That would be a nice place for a picnic

I can't have a picnic today.
The food, I can't afford to pay.
The price of gas and everything.
Even my heart can't afford to sing.

The blues are sung by yellow wrens.
And the camara's cover is still on the lens.
The joy in life is slowly fading.
As picnic ants are hungryly waiting.

I know this is not what you want to hear.
But empty bellies are living near.
The price for pleasure and blissfulness.
Is much too high for all the rest.



Details | Ballad | |

THE WISHING WELL OF A SUN-RISE,

It is...within the tiny things of early morning, that moment breaths alive, it is within the tiny whisperings, that a melodye plays...like the very dear and the antelope, play home on the range.

so goes the melodye of heart beat, that plays quietly the songs of soul,

here a rhyme is born of day-light coming so soon, through the early morning eyes of the moon-light, and the starry dreams of twilight's transitioning...

into the light of a love letter written to dawn.

soul to soul conversing, as in this love letter, the letters just join hands with the words and just march across the sky...and at the end of the rainbow, there be plenty of golden time,

way down deep on the inside,

...as the inspired choir, of a bumble bee, or a butterfly, starts to sing, like tiny things that live,

flower to flower,
blossom to bloom,

watered and deeply cared for...

O' Eden.

I say, deep beneath the surface of a wishing well...where the pennies lay,

I wish a sun-rise.








Details | I do not know? | |

Had Times Been Different

Down the long graveled road
Flanked by woods with filtered sun
Evening sun signaling me to abode
Where the bitterweed blooms,I run

Join family outside in the twilight
With the moon rising in the East
Offering some soft evening light
Fireflies begin to emerge_beast

Their glow like small little suns
Flashing on and off, on and off
Catch them_place in jar motor runs
On these nights watermelon sliced

Homemade ice cream entombed
In store bought ice with rock salt
Both bought at the freezer store
Where huge chunks of ice stored

Mostly about these times memories
Of you how you could produce 
Much out of nothing and fun
When there was none__

What a character you were
Laughter and joy bubbling over
Then bam angry explosions
Never knew which would come

I always wonder what was wrong
Now I know that you probably 
Had some type of mental illness
Probably some chemical imbalance

Sad _for you could have been
Some very special person
Had times been different
Someday we will understand


Details | Rhyme | |

Binge and Purge

Musta lost five pounds today
hunger hurts
but I suffer anyway
stomach shrinks 
along with guilt
hope this improves 
the way I'm built


Details | Lyric | |

LSD

Dumb little boy what happened to You?
A father, a mother, we're through.
Brightly coloured feathers, spread and you flew.
Dumb little boy what happened to you?
Crashed! 
Queer? 
I near.
Sat here, sat here.
We sat, drinking dads warm beer.
Dumb little boy your feathers are gone.
WASTED!
LSD on your toungue.
Obliterated! obliterated! 
Wasted! wasted!
Dumb little boy, your brain is fried.
Perfectly twisted.
Now, lets peak inside.


Details | Lyric | |

Empty Tables

there are empty tables
many empty tables
in this country
and in this 
world

I sit
and I look at one of them
and wonder
if anyone else feels the way 
I do

when their child tells them
they are hungry
and you have 
no food to give 
them

and then your child cries
and then you cry
and then they cry 
some more
and then you cry

until finally
you both
just go to bed 
living with a hunger
that does not ever sleep

© Christine A Kysely All Rights Reserved
(December 8th, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin USA)


Details | I do not know? | |

Why is it?

Why is it that school's say that they are preparing you for life, 

But really they are preparing you for more school?

Who knows?

That has always been on mind for the past few days.

*comment if you know why or if you have any ideas*




                                        -angel4eva23