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.
No where near a force of nature
Challenging the things that are not for sure
Building what we can survive
A small measurement when we strive
Lessons when it comes to strength
Multiplying the time found in length
Stop and learn the sound of weakness
Hard to find when one is restless
Improving in a mental task
The answers are found when we ask
Stamina is needed between me and you
To perform bravely in all we do
Losing the ability to rump for long
You're out of shape comes in way too wrong
The idea is to learn when ideas seem to fail
The wrong action is to bail
Thinking, thinking what could it be
Will not solve the problem between you and me
Practice is the best energy
Memorize it and stamina will come naturally
Be it known as convenience food, junk food or munchies;
whether spicy, melt-in-your-mouth soft, or crunchy,
food, inglorious food, seduces with ease
and ensnares with the emptiest of calories.
Disguised as a comfort food comes macaroni
with creamy Alfredo and kin, Fettucini,
To not be outdone, spaghetti entices
with large fattening meatballs and sauce rich in spices.
“Deep fried” knows our weakness for fat, which gives pleasure
and saturates fast foods, it seems, in great measure:
KFC (finger-licking), batter-fried fishes
and chicken fried steaks -high cholesterol dishes.
Even fruits will attack with enjoyment unhealthy
as tarts, pies or pastries. That apple is stealthy!
Veggies can also be treacherous things
in guise of corn fritters and gold onion rings.
Too much of a good thing is pizza (so cunning,
so meaty, so cheesy), which no one is shunning.
The taco, burrito, and big burger too
in great numbers descend on us. What can we do?
Those delectable luscious desserts that we eat
have only to sit there; we cannot retreat!
Candies and chocolate, our decadent sin,
sweetly defeat us. We simply give in.
Ice cream, a smooth foe, knows when we are blue.
On a cone or a spoon, it drips, waiting for you.
As a milkshake, a frosty, a sundae or float,
or between split bananas, it sure floats MY boat!
Buttered popcorn is one salty foe, and we love it!
The hot dog implores in our mouths that we shove it.
Baked bread, so alluring, entraps with its scent,
which wafts through the air as if heaven sent!
The standards of junk food -America’s pride -
crisp bacon and nachos, chips and foods fried,
invade our malls’ food courts and lurk high and low.
Their smells overwhelm us wherever we go!
We might try but we can’t make our junk food desist.
for only the health nuts can dare to resist.
In the war with inglorious food I adore,
I say, Bring it on! Here’s my plate; I want more.
For the The Synathroesmic Cat Contest Poetry contest of Suzanne Delaney
*So now you can all know why I try to get to the gym a lot. hahaha
Hey! Get lost wasp you are a pesky swine
This cherry ice cream is mine ALL mine
You buzz around and make my life hell
Look - this ice cream is for ME it tastes so swell
I need to cool down, gee here it’s really hot
So buzz off pesky wasp or you I will swat
1st November 2014
A Christmas dinner that can’t be beat
Here is the menu of what we’ll eat
Mashed potatoes whipped smooth and fluffy
Green bean casserole; nice and crunchy
Pickles and olives on a perfect relish tray
Cranberry delight that’s been chilling all day
Sweet potatoes such tasty treats
Hot rolls steaming both white and wheat
Homemade honey butter and strawberry jam
A gorgeous honey glazed Christmas ham
Turkey and noodles are piping hot
A fuzzy naval salad; I almost forgot
A slow roasted turkey golden brown
And broccoli rice casserole; pass it around
For dessert we’ve a variety of tasty treats
Tons of scrumptious goodies to eat
Chocolate chip cookies and brownies so sweet
Four kinds of pies including minced meat
It’s all there so fill up your plate
I’m getting mine, I can hardly wait
A is for Avocado, the creamy, green nutritious fat.
B is for Berries, the fruit that keeps your tummy flat.
C is for Chia, most nutrient-dense of all the seeds.
D is for Dandelion - it's more than just a pesky weed!
E is for Eggs, the perfect snack to keep you lean.
F is for Flax - to sprinkle lightly on your greens.
G is for Ginger, the spice that fights off germs and soothes.
H is for Honey, nature's cure for the sweetest tooth.
I is for Iodine - from salt, it keeps your thyroid sound.
J is for Jalapeno, the red-hot kick to melt those pounds.
K is for Kale - to be lightly steamed without the stem.
L is for Lettuce, its popular and crunchy friend.
M is for Milk, for sparkling teeth and sturdy bones.
N is for Nuts - a handful and your tum won't groan.
O is for Oats, fiber-filled and gluten-free.
P is for Pistachios, sly cholesterol's enemy.
Q is for Quinoa, the complete protein that fills you up.
R is for Raisins - a ton of iron in a quarter cup.
S is for Salmon, the oily fish with omega-3.
T is for Tomatoes, nature's very own sunscreen!
U is for Udon, the pasta you can eat guilt-free
V is for Vinegar - it makes dressings low in calories.
W is for Water, which hydrates to de-bloat your gut.
X is for Xylocarp, a fancy term for coconut.
Y is for Yogurt, the probiotic masterpiece.
Z is for Zucchini, which lowers risk of heart disease.
Your body is a temple, I'm sure you've all been told,
So fill it up with healthy foods, and you'll grow young - not old!
(P.S. In case anyone doesn't know, "Quinoa" is pronounced "keen-wah")
For Cyndi's "Z is for Zaria" contest
Shhhhhhhhhhhhhh I’ve got a secret to tell
I’ll whisper it to you; as I don’t like to yell
I’ve discovered a monster living in my house
It’s very very quiet, as quiet as a mouse
The biscuit tin is empty, not even a single crumb
Yet the packet was brand new, not even undone
All the chocolate is gone, oh what can I do
If I find the culprit I’ll bid him adieu
He invades my fridge when I’m not looking
I’ve not poisoned him yet as he survives my cooking
A miracle has happened since my son returned to university
I’ve not had to keep the kitchen cupboards under lock and key
Contest: Monsters and Marvels
Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi
~awarded 4th place~
When you make your wife into a baby machine
You can’t complain there’s not enough food to eat
I mean, what were you thinking with ten kids to feed?
Food would fall from the sky? Rain eggs, bread, or meat?
You had to have known, say by three kids or four,
That you would eventually need MORE food than before
Don’t act like you’re stupid, it’s plain to see
That what you really wanted, was a sex machine
Damn the consequences, the babies that came
Who cares if they starve? Certainly you’re not to blame
10/17/11 - posted 4/4/12
When they married he was as thin as a rake
But his wife she loves to bake
She thinks the way to his heart
Is to practice her culinary art
He’s been eating all her pies
You should see his thunder thighs
He’s in love, this he cannot disguise
Now his tum is as wide as his eyes
His wife puts on a good spread
Has his fill then he falls into bed
He’d love a bit more bedroom action
But he can’t get no satisfaction
Apple pies make him tired and sleepy
His mum thinks he’s looking quite peaky
He would love to go on a diet
But his wife wont let him try it
She says cooking is her passion
As for sex that’s now on ration
He can’t live like this any more
Packs his bags and heads for the door
Moves out and joins a new gym
Loses weight and starts to get thin
Meets a girl on an exercise bike
Tells his wife she can 'go take a hike'
Now he’s happy with the girl of his dreams
And his clothes aren’t bursting at the seams
Contest:-Plentitude of Pies
Sponsor:-Sheri Fresonke Harper
~awarded 15th place~
Steak pies is my favourite to eat with vegetables for dinner
With succulent pastry which couldn't be thinner
Meat and gravy are cooked in unison
Making this pie a lip smacking tasty one
Dessert what more could I ask for, I love
a Bramley Apple pie cooked with a clove
The flavour is one to die for,
With lovely creamy custard, over it pour
Now it's nearly supper time what pie takes the lead
Nothing more than a Cornish pasty its a nearly pie indeed
Inside some tiny cubes of potatoes and swede mixed with onion and meat
Looks longingly at the clock, is it time yet for this treat
Goes to bed repleted, full of pasty and such
Dreams of pies and pasties, would think i've had enough.
I bought all the candy for Halloween night,
Into the cupboard, it sat in plain sight
When later I looked, I just about flipped!
I saw empty wrappings, the bags were all ripped!
The treats were all missing,...so back to the store
I bought several bags, at least three or four.
Now back in my kitchen, I climbed on a chair
To hide them up high on a shelf that was bare...
Behind an old crock pot that he'd never use...
But would you believe, he discovered my ruse?!!!
The big night arrived and much to my grief
The candy had been eaten by that darn sweet toothed thief!!!!
The door bell was ringing, trick-or-treaters had come
I ducked out the back door, and fast did I run!!
Right back to the store, I flew like a witch...
The clerks heard me cursing, like a grouchy old b - - - -!
The store had no candy, sold out every piece
No Big Hunks, no Snickers, no Hersheys or Reese
I bought bags of apples.... gave them out in disgrace
Every kid on the block had disgust on his face
The next Halloween, I'm not buying ahead
I'm a last minute shopper for the candy, instead..
And to all you folks, who buy treats in advance
My advice to you all, is don't take such a chance!
Something else you should learn, from this frustrating tale...,
Next time you buy candy, attach some loud bells!!
------------ P.S.... (A Moral to the story, for an evening so gory)....
He was licking his chops, while he had his sweet binge
But goblins were watching, ........and took their revenge....
That Halloween scrooge...Mr. Thief in the Night
He chipped his back molar, as he took that last bite!!
Submitted for "Funny Spooks" contest
Sponsored by Carol Brown
I am the predator you watch up in the sky
Blessed by the Lord with the keenest of eyes
I nest in the canyons high up on the walls
Keeping my babies safe from it all
When my babies grow hungry and it's time to feed
I rely on my senses to provide what they need
As I take to the sky it's so clear to see
You think of freedom while looking at me
Protected from hunters I've no need to hide
As upon the currents I gracefully glide
As I circle the sky throughout the day
I scour the ground searching for prey
When prey is spotted I go into my dive
Know that speed and accuracy are how I survive
You duck and you dodge for no use at all
With you held in my talons I fly back up the wall
Back to the nest to the fruit of my seed
For you are the food my babies need
Then back to the sky where I notice under a tree
One peaceful poet is writing of me
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!
The neighbours went off on their yearly vacation,
Off to visit some foreign nation.
Leaving me keys and a list a mile long,
To watch their pets. What could go wrong?
The rottweiler is a gentle soul
As long as there's always food in her bowl.
The trick is filling it as quick as can be,
So you need to be fast, faster than me.
The birds take pride in emptying their dishes
All over the floor, and then there's the fishes.
So there's food and water and then food again,
Making sure there's enough to last until when
The next day begins and we start it anew.
I'm told there's a cat. Really! Who knew?
If there is , it certainly keeps itself hid.
It's like playing hide and seek with some little kid.
Walking the dog has become quite a chore.
She sees the leash and runs for the door.
After being dragged two miles the walk finally starts.
The dog is immense, she should be pulling carts.
Back to the house and the hide and seek game.
If there is a cat, it doesn't come to it's name.
The birds are now staring at their seeds on the floor.
I refuse to refill the dishes as I head to the door.
So this daily ritual will last another week
And I'll keep trying to win the game of hide and seek.
Thank goodness their vacation only comes once a year.
After watching the pets ....I could sure use a beer.
Late last night I had a dream
I'd gone to heaven, or so it seem
I opened a golden door
And walked into a "goodie" store
There was lots of food on every shelf
With a big sign saying, "Help yourself"
So, I ate my fill and put some in a sack
It was a long way home, I might need a snack
I started to leave, but to my dismay
Something at the door blocked my way
It was Satan, with a smile on his face
I wasn't in heaven, it was that other place
"You must step on my scales", he said
I was thinking, "I'd rather be dead"
It was then I woke up screaming
I sure was glad I was only dreaming!!!
TEEN AGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES!!
One day I came home with the flu.
My mother gave me a bowl of stew
All I can say is that the stew was thick like goo.
I still ate it thinking it was chicken stew.
Saturday morning I woke up watching Winnie The Pooh.
Mother made me a sandwich that was hard to chew
In the kitchen I saw 2 strange looking shells
Once I saw them I started getting dizzy spells
Eating turtle soup with out having a clue.
Made my face turn green and blue.
Walked into the living room.
My stomach still felt kind of doom.
My mother was watching the tube and singing along
Singing along to the,"Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" song!
NOW THAT WAS WRONG!!!!!!
TWO TURTLE DOVES
During Christmas, I always go hunting in the woods
I set out traps to catch me some goods
I caught two turtle in my first trap
Poor little things where full of crap.
I was singing "On the first day of Christmas" on my way back.
All I could think of was my Two Turtle (Doves), snack!
I took them inside and dipped them in water
They had no idea they where soon to be slaughter
My dad told me that turtle soup hits the right spot.
Silly turtles where already in the boiling pot
Looking at the pot one turtles was swimming around
I can't believe in the hot water he didn't even drown
I had to pull him out, and set him on the rebound.
I'll just cook him on my second round.
I am ready to eat my turtle stew.
Praising this soup with an mm mm thank you!
DARN!! Salt and Pepper was the main thing I forgot
Realizing napkins was the only thing I bought
I put the napkins on my lap.
I was about to have me some turtle snap.
I started singing my favorite Christmas song.
Suddenly the "Two Turtle Dove" part did not belong.
Singing softly to my favorite line
Eating the stew didn't feel fine.
""On The Second day of Christmas
MMMMMMMMMMMy TRUE LOVVVVEE
Gave to me TWO TURTLE DOVVVVEE
With out having the jolly to sing along.
I had to put the stew to a side and be strong.
(now) THAT WAS WRONG!!!!!
((( HAVING FUN WITH MY OWN TURTLE CONTEST )))
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)
There’s taxes on underwear, dresses and ties,
and taxes on ointments your grandmother buys.
There’s taxes on food at your local D.Q.
and taxes on food even good for you too!
You’re taxed on most services; and you are taxed
if you get your most private areas waxed.
You’re taxed every year (it should be a crime)
on the same house and car that you bought just one time!
The plan for which all your work’s taxes went in,
when finally used, you’ll be taxed for again!
You’re taxed more for smoking! You’re taxed if you fly.
Your loved ones get taxed on your stuff when you die!
Rich brats have their loopholes and still get ahead.
But most of us won’t find relief till we’re dead.
Inspired by Carolyn Devonshire's "Taxing Times" Contest
I confess I've been known to partake
Straight icing sans chocolate cake
I concede I shall never be lean
Pouring fudge without the ice cream
It's apparent my tool-shed doth grow
Baked cookies? Just gimmie the dough
It is rumored that I often spread
Peanut butter and jam (hold the bread)
From grandma I would often cajole
A sugar rush direct from the bowl
(Rejecting her kit for caboodle
Choosing filling minus the strudel)
I eat healthy! Want some examples?
Pay-Days contain protein that's ample
Orange Slices provide Vitamin C
Milky-Ways furnish Vitamin D
Cavities?...My molars are mature
Cholesterol?...I concur (THAT'S for sure)
Gotta change before damage is nigh
Take a walk? Um, later, Honey-Pie...
The taste of homemade Carmel so sweet/ everyone I know desires the treat.
After one night in the kitchen covered/ half the pan gone, next morning discovered.
Is it my beagle Lily whom loves any food? / she seems in a hyper beagle mood.
I know I heard a squeak in the night / a dream ? No, for low was the kitchen light.
T'was my husband, for he can't resist/ soft , buttered brown sugar , a Vanilla twist.
The day he took me to Starbucks
I figured I was gaining in luck
Then all he did was complain
How the coffee wasn't humane
It wasn't fit for human comsumption
The tasty treat was dry, their gumption
In serving such unpalatable treat
Oh well, another date now unsweet
Starbucks I still love you even though
Have to get decaffeinated coffee drink slow
Nathan thanks for the challenge
Contest: Coffee House
When I think of famous duos, these two come to mind
No, it's not two lovers , nothing of the kind
No famous stars strolling down a red carpet walk
Reporters following them, hoping for tomorrow's gossip talk
But they've been around to feed us a quick meal in a bind
Or to eat just for fun and they come in more than one kind
First those two fresh pieces of white wonder bread
Creamy peanut butter onto each one is carefully spread
Next choose the jelly - grape is usually mine
But there is also strawberry, apple and many others are fine
Put it all together with jelly dripping down your chin
A big glass of cold milk, let the feast begin!
Yes, I think this duo is one worth the mention
Although, it might not get all that very much attention
Oh my great salad come to me,
your tomato juices soon to please.
Look at those beautiful green leaves,
A little spark of yellow with the cheese.
The sweetness of my ranch on top,
I'll eat you all up, I could never stop.
Those little crunchy bits laying just there,
Could be seeds, could be bacon, I don't care.
The nice crispy texture so great when I bite,
A little bit of cucumber makes it just right.
Come to me, my super great lunch,
I'll eat you all up and I like it a bunch.
My lunch adventure is all gone I'd say,
I eat every bit, I like it that way.
My lunch was just really good today - Donald
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.
A is for algae, red, green, blue cells, soaking up sun, sliming teeth
B is for bacterial mat, clumping underneath, earliest born, never asleep
C is for coral reef, the place we all find cover or the sand parrotfish chew and release
D is for diatom, all seeded calcium, all float free, all denizens barely seen
E is for eelgrass, nursery meadows of the anchovy, and other browsers of green
F is for fan worm, filter feeder like a flower, 8000 species on which fish feed
G is for giant kelp, floating on bladders of air they’re forests of cold waters clean
H is for helmet, the royalty of snails who protect our feet, queen, emperor, king
I is for isopod, the chameleon crustacean, they color match what they eat
J is for jellyball, or cannonball jellyfish, not upside down or moon, avoid their heat
K is for keyhole limpet, favorite food of ochre stars, will erect its own wall
L is for laver, the sea lettuce of nori, it swirls red skirt as ocean falls
M is for mermaid’s purse, the sack of the skate whose yolk keeps them alive
N is for nerite, the prisoner striped snail of the rocky zone as numerous as a hive
O is for oyster drills, the snails that slurp oysters and use them to lay eggs
P is for pleurobranch, a sea slug answer for oranges, with one active leg
Q is for quahog, the bivalve seaman who can survive eating the mud
R is for rove beetle, the one waiting to snatch the unwary beach hopper for good
S is for saxitoxin, those red tides produced by mating that can paralyze humans
T is for tubular sponge, they squish, bore and encrust as space lends
U is for urchin, those spiny skinned balls, no eyes or noses but dig food in sand
V is for Venus, Music Volutes dined or Vampire Squids skimming along land
W is for whelk, not the musically inclined, but the slow moving snail in a shell
X is for X and a half, the six rayed star, hungry for anything on the half shell
Y is for yucca, blooming on the beach, they bloom nice and tolerate the sand
Z is for Zostera marinara, the address of eel grass when they're feeling grand
All of this green life is what crunches, stinks, dries and slips underfoot
The rest that find the housing and dining compatible means someone’s on the look.
Puzzled are the recipients of a fruit cake from Santa Claus this year!
Seems that Yuletide ain't complete 'less you git one to bring you cheer!
Fruit cakes are much maligned and I'm here to set the record straight!
However, I must admit 'tis one of the most bizarre things I ever ate!
Even a mediocre chef can be very creative in concoctin' such confection,
Tossin' in all kinds of dubious stuff and whippin' it up to perfection!
Yule never know what Yule find when into a fruit cake you slice!
You just have to take yer chances! 'Tis a proverbial roll o' the dice!
Should you choose not to eat the thing for fear of breakin' a tooth,
There are numerous functional uses fer this lowly delicacy, forsooth!
They make a wonderful door stop, foot stool or a very formidable missile,
When hurled at yer neighbor's yappin' mutt, that ever makes you bristle!
This is a not so subtle reminder so as in your mind there'll be no doubt,
If you're givin' fruit cakes as gifts next year, please include me out!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
An appetizer is the first part - of a meal
I love soup
And I like - alphabet soup
Such letters make up her eloquent bouquet
And one can’t go past such a delicious repast
Served daily at word restaurant - Poetry Soup
But this is just starters - the first part of the meal
For what comes afters’
Is no mean feast – it is served up with such verve
Your palate will be satiated- on succulent meat
And for dessert - what an amazing array to choose from
A cuisine of cultural delight-you’ll not have enough-
You will always want-more!
©? Brenda V Northeast 10th January 2012
Feeling kinda cruddy, yup, that's the word
Too many fries, too many burgs
When will I learn I can't handle that stuff
Stomach rebels, starts causing a fuss
Once could eat nails and all kinds of gunk
Now I eat mush and ground up junk
My teeth are all gone, can't chew anymore
Things go down whole, my tummy gets sore
So such is the life of this senior type dude
Head for the washroom, each time I eat food
Food disappears like famous greased lightning
Or I sit there for hours, really quite frightening
Irregularity's my name, I'm Irreg for short
Hope an operation, I don't have to resort
An artificial esophagus transplanted in me
So I can go regular like it once used to be
Oh for the days when I could eat all that junk
Those days are gone, who woulda thunk
That one day I'd be eating my morning cereal
Laced with Metamucil or some such material!
© Jack Ellison 2012
Some call it an aphrodisiac.
They say it gives a man a strong back.
Like a good woman, turtle soup makes no sense;
Can something so delicate be so intense?
Like a woman, the flesh has several delightful flavors.
Remember, each mouthwatering sensation should be savored.
When you taste her, bask freely in the sapidity,
Acquire the feel for this pure tortoise delicacy.
Don’t rush, familiarize your taste buds.
There is no such thing as a first sight love.
Recognize, there is a mystique behind that hard shell.
Did someone say turtle soup? That does not ring a bell.
From out of salty waters comes something sweet.
It walks on several legs but it has no feet.
Beneath hard exterior you'll find a treat.
Delicious morsels of succulent white meat.
You can broil or bake turn up the heat.
Dip it in butter that way's hard to beat.
Lobster is okay but it's not quite as sweet.
When it comes to me, crab's the best thing to eat.
Laid out before me as I sit in my seat.
Trying to stay clean is a difficult feat?
Sometimes a need for added salt
Can be a good meal's only fault.
I am so glad that I am able
To have salt shaker on my table.
I'd rather chew on dry asphalt
Than finest meat devoid of salt.
And if that meal ends with a treat
It satisfies my yen for sweet.
I got my taste for salt from Papa
And one for sweets from my dear Mama.
I love eating some fruits day or night
I like some more than others.Thats right!
Watermelon and oranges are among the ones
That I enjoy to eat more than honeyed buns
Honeydew, grapes and cherries are so juicy and sweet
And fruits are so good and healthy for me and you to eat!
Dorian Petersen Potter
The bigger the peach,
the better the chance to catch up someone's speech.
Hi, my name is Ollyver, and here’s my doggie view:
You could call me simply “Boo” and I’d still come to you!
I’m fluffy white, the mini version of an Eskimo.
My human lady makes me go out back and then yells, “GO!”
Sometimes she says more than that. She adds the small word, “pee.”
“Ollyver, go pee,” she cries. “Just pee. Go pee for me!”
Often times I’ll run about or try to dig a hole.
Apparently my digging in the yard is not her goal!
She calls me back and if I do not come, she chases me.
Her voice bears a question and again, that dang word PEE.
Inside the house, I sit near her - unless I hear strange noise,
and often at the window, I’ll look out and see some boys.
I start to yap. I HAVE to yap! I yap, yap, yap, yap, YAP.
And when they leave, I run with glee back to my lady’s lap.
I love to feel her scratch my ears and smooth my pretty fur.
If someone comes too near the house, I’ll yap, protecting her.
She doesn’t often give me yummy food right off her plate,
but sometimes she might give me some, so anxiously I wait.
I make my eyes get big and sad and whimper like a child.
I can’t go too far overboard or else she will get riled!
If food remains upon her plate, she scrapes it in my bowl.
That’s even better than when I go out and dig a hole!
There’s one thing I can’t figure out. She saw me tinkle once
nearby a wall, then yelled about me pulling stupid stunts.
She and her man get crazy when I do that, so I try
to only tinkle in the house when it is on the sly!
She takes me out to that back yard quite an awful lot.
Sometimes I’ll tinkle and I always poo poo like I ought.
More kids outside the window! Must I always have to beg
for them to leave? I yap, and near the wall I lift my leg.
Written June 24, 2012
For Tanya Harrington's "Dog Gone Tales" Poetry Contest
No more cookies, no more chips,
No more fattening yummy dips.
No more ice cream, no more cake,
No more doughnuts on a break.
No more milkshakes, no more fries,
No more bread and no more pies.
No more sugar and no more fat,
All these things have made me fat.
No more candy that's for sure!
I wonder how long I'll endure?
From these temptations I must flee,
If I want to have less of me.
My healthy diet mainly consists
of fruits, veggies and salads.
Inspired by- Ten Apples Up On top
Ten pounds, ten pounds, on my bottom!
Good grief, good grief!, How fast I got'em!
I must, I must! Lose this weight!
Or soon obesity will be my fate!
One pound, one pound! I'll start real slow..
One pound gone, nine more to go!
Two pounds, Two pounds! I'm on a roll!
To look like Twiggy is my goal!
Three pounds, Three pounds! Not so bad!
But oh those doughnuts make me sad!
Four pounds, four pounds! I can do it!
This pound was tough, I almost blew it!
Five pounds, five pounds, half way there!
No more elevators, take the stair!
Six pounds, six pounds! Its going slow!
No more cookies? Another terrible blow!
Seven pounds, And then big number eight!
Beginning to think cucumbers are just great!
Nine pounds , nine pounds ! Took forever!
Not going through this again, Never, Never!
Ten pounds lost at last! But not fair, not fair!
Why doI still look like a giant pear!
Apple pie is so divine,
I eat it all then feel like swine.
pizza good hot or cold
cold chicken can be bold
hard boiled eggs good any time
eating cold food not a crime
on a hot summer day
something cold after play
fish and chips
worth the trips
Long John silvers have the best
gives your wallet plenty rest
their fast food
is real good
if you’re asking why?
come give it a try
It takes planning, a graveled path, herb sets
to create a heavenly perfume
some time around bloom time
excess pruned down by a third and hung.
We see a bit of the hanging God then
in the silky down of lavender, thyme
offer homage of pressed violets,
golden suns of marigold as tune of awe.
The mincing of the mints is heavenly
as candy, sharp peppermint, mellow lemon balm,
the bedding down of chamomile, poppy maw,
the spiral sweets and gingered leaves of geranium
shavings of orris root, too many iris anyway
so free them all and set the scent create a smelly sum.
Add carnation stars, sticky sweet hollows of fennel
to tell the men, here is where the women live
won’t you remember your marjoram, your rosemary
with the pots on to boil, or laying head on crisp sheets and sigh.
It all takes planning, to decorate, alleviate, scent
create the corners of a life. Let’s go set the herbs.
Then breathe in the heavenly scent of potpourri lent
as offering, homage to all the plenty wonder of our lives.
ham and cheese
I ask my wife
she grabs the knife
she’ll slice it thin
with her I win
cheddar or Swiss
neither a miss
a ham and cheese lunch
goes with Brady Bunch
My (Easy and Delicious) Favorite Dish
If you like ground beef, cheese, and potatoes too,
I’ve got a casserole dish just right for you.
It’s fast and easy, just like A, B, C.,
and the steps for making it are only three.
Step one: Cook onions with some beef (a pound will do).
When the beef is brown, you’re ready for step two.
Into a baking pan the beef needs to be placed.
Tator tots and a large can of cream mushroom soup give taste!
A tator tot, in case you do not know,
has a French fry’s taste, but it’s a cubed potato.
About an inch long a half inch wide,
A soft plump tot tastes yummy baked or fried.
Mix the soup and bag of frozen tots into the dish.
Soon enough you’re going to taste something quite delish!
Step three: Atop the casserole, spread shredded cheese (a lot!).
Then bake on high heat till the tots are golden, and serve hot.
I make this for my students, and no matter from which nation,
Each one wants more of this beef, soup, tot, and cheese creation!
For David Williams'
"My Favourite Dish Poetry Contest"
Round heels of crumpets,
aromatic lavender jam.
Poached eggs in a skillet,
succulent portions of ham.
An awakening stretch had heralded
a yawn mouthed long and loud.
While rain fell down in splatters
from the dark pewter clouds.
Dated Macintosh slicker,
hoary exhausted gum boots.
Tenacious steps into nature
in search of family and roots.
The fallacies of the wind
twists hair into long plaits.
Across wide fields of enchantment
new journeys await.
Speak the words of truth
Till you are long in the tooth
Look them in the eye
And tell them no lie
A friend will know
When a tell does show
Your hips will grow width
Though you take the fifth
You fell from grace
When the sweets you did taste
Too good to pass
For a year… much too rash!!
Written for David’s “One to One” poetry contest
(Subject: A failed New Year’s resolution, but not mine !! lol )
Talk turkey; talk turkey
It's Thanksgiving day.
Fill up your mouths
the Thanksgiving way.
Gobble down; gobble down
meat and red berries.
Some adding gravy
for flavour that varies.
White mashed potatoes
hollowed in boats.
Filled with yellow butter
that warms 'till it floats.
Turnip and parsnip
mixed in together.
Tangy mild flavour
that lasts forever.
Green tiny peas
piled on the side;
covered in butter
in tears they have cried.
All for the price of a prayer
to say thanks
and gathering our friends
in a place that is nice.
The sea holds the sauce of life,
the squiggly-wiggleys of delight.
The shells on shore inspire insight
cooks in kitchens steam on summer nights.
Filling pasta pots with rotini,
pan searing bits of pink squids teeni.
Drizzling pink vodka sauce between the swirls
juggling meatballs for little girls!
So, mimic the sea on my saucy plate
“Pass the rotini! I’ve not ate!”
“See how it looks like a Hasid’s curls?”
Just the macaroni for a Jewish girl!
* A tribute to Linda-Maria's verse Stuffed Shells...
A is for anchovies,salty little fishes.
B is for blueberries in muffins and sweet dishes.
C is for cabbage,so good for making slaw.
D is for dragonfruit,you can eat it raw.
E is for eggplant,as parmegan delights.
F is for fritters,deep fried apple bites.
G is for gazpacho,chilled soup from Spain.
H is for honey,so good for throat pain.
I is for Indian foods like spicy curry.
J is for jello,simple desserts in a hurry.
K is for kiwi from the land of the sleeping dragon.
L is for lemon to keep digestive juices from lagging.
M is for mushrooms,shitake and morels.
N is for noodles such as macaroni shells.
O is for onions,yellow and sweet white.
P is for peppers,an Italian delight.
Q is for Quiche,an egg dish so mellow.
R is for raspberries,often used in jello.
S is for shrimp,darlings of the sea.
T is for tomato, a fruit it would be.
U is for Uglifruit,sweeter than it's name.
V is for vinegar,pungent not tame.
W is for waffles,a breakfast treat.
X is for xouba sardines found near Crete.
Y is for yogurt, it's all Greek to me.
Z is for zucchini that will make rattatouille.
Versatility and imagination go a long way.
But the right ingredients keep hunger at bay.
for Cyndi's ABC couplet contest
I just happen to love all these ingredients and have at some or other used or eaten almost all of them! I have a talent for fashioning a grand meal out of only a couple of ingredients...I am a good cook...my boyfriend says I am trying to fatten him up!(nobody ever told him to take seconds and thirds!!)
< Driving along in my automobile
Seen homeless man holding sign will work for his meals
Should I stop or should I just Go !
Should I give Or Should I just say hell No !
But what if that was me
Crying out with such pitty
Not knowing where to get next meal
Three kids crying at worn out heels
Cardboard boxes to call our home
Dumpster diving for pieces of foam
Think I'll give him a piece of my pot
Opened wallet and gave him alot
A nice twenty came on out
Wiped out was his sadden pout
Drove by an hour later
Homeless camp wiped off roadmarks slatter
Wonder where dirty Dan had now roamed
Just hope he finds a better suitable home
The Fortune Cookie
By Rick Rucker
On the way home last night,
I thought that I would grab a bite,
Instead of the food I usually eat,
I thought that Chinese would be a treat,
There were things on the net to find out about,
So, I decided to get the food to take out,
After a short wait,
I was carrying the food, not very late,
The drive was fairly short,
But the aroma of food made me starve, I can report!
I devoured the food in what seemed a minute,
Everything in the bag, leaving nothing in it,
Oh, wait, is there something more,
Did I drop it on the floor?
A small package, I did not see at first,
In my hunger, and my thirst,
I had eaten in great haste,
But still wanted another taste,
I was mildly disappointed to find,
It was not food for the stomach, but for the mind,
A fortune cookie, on the floor,
A fortune cookie, nothing more,
Normally, I might have thrown it away,
Feeling that reading it was merely play,
The reason that I hurried home,
I had been reading in a tome,
I had been reading about an investment that I made some time ago,
Its maturation had been very slow,
It’s going to be a wondrous event,
After all the months that I have spent,
Reading every financial note that I could find,
Other than Love, nothing else occupies my mind!
When this event comes to pass,
I will be in a position to marry my fair lass,
My finances, a disaster,
My money worries, I have not been able to master!
When this comes to fruition,
I will no longer regret not paying tuition,
To a prestigious school,
I will be the World’s most lucky fool!
Opening the cookie package now,
I use my teeth to open it somehow,
I crush the cookie, I could not wait,
The message reads, “Success and wealth will be your fate.”
In random fortunes, you may not put much stock,
To me, this was quite a shock!
If true, I will be fulfilled,
My financial anxiety, will be killed!
So, I pray every night,
That the fellow, who did, that fortune write,
That message just for me,
Knowing that it would give me unbounded glee!
It could have been spaghetti
that I passed out on the street.
As icky as it seems to me
down near my hairy feet.
A yellow curl that made me sick.
A half a morsel not too thick.
That lay there still just like a worm
and made my stomach start to churn.
It could have been spaghetti
that I passed out on the street.
In sauce that lasts forever
in a place it will secrete.
Lets raise our hands and all rejoice
Allow the world to hear our voice
This time of year the work never ends
We join together and help our friends
That’s how the Lord would have it be
I offer help to you, you offer help me
We are working together hand in hand
Because our harvest shall feed the land
Praise the Lord I want it to show
Jesus is the harvester of my soul
Jesus is now who harvest my crop
From the bottom straight to the top
Written for Brian's contest. Being from
a farming County the Harvest is very
dear to me. Last year I missed it due
to my back, this year I'm in school. I
think I'll go out on the weekend and
work a few hours for free just so I can
remain a part of something that I love
so much. Nothing like the smell of the
harvest in the morning, waiting on the
dew to dry so you can roll up in the Rice.
God I do miss the long days of honest
work but the Lord is Harvesting my life
in a new direction.
(18th February 2012 nite at Kentucky shack on colva beach)
I was browsing through the menu and laid my eyes upon interesting cocktails and mock tails.
I snapped up the names with the blackberry camera and wove them together to couplets.
Dedicate this one to my friends who love and cherish the cocktails and mock tails.
With love from zeauoxian, black lady, Tom Collins,
Three peaks merlot, white lady, John Collins.
Between the sheets, pink pusy, screaming orgasm,
Pink lady, lost bikini, orgasm.
Misty nite, hairy navel, ding a ling,
Sunset, buttock clencher, Singapore sling.
Lady killer, fuzzy navel, coconut diaquiry,
Bloody Mary, fenny wenny woo woo, orange diaquiry.
Pure calypso, climax, kick in the balls,
Caribbean fever, planter’s punch, rocks for the dolls.
Peach pleasure, tequila sunrise, margarita,
Pina coloda, sunset, caipirnha.
Coco colada, slippery dick, the hammer,
Gimlet, sweet nips, tequila slammer.
Passona orange, passona lime, sex on the beach,
Orange blossom, lime blossom. Passionate peach.
Gin fiz, Cuba libre, Roby Roy,
Black lagoon, black Russian, beach buoy.
Fight fiesta, stinger rum cocktail, side car,
Negroni, pink elephant, brandy lime shot from the bar.
Mohjito, long island iced tea, whiskey sour,
Renaissance merlot, vina tarapoca chardonnay.
All these heady concoction,
Many of them and lots of action.
The science of achohol blending, of the art of mixology,
All these to the tipper is fun and to do with a smooth tripology!!!!!!!!
This afternoon I am going to bake a tasty treat
Scones and lemon drizzle cake for us to eat
I’m also making a spicy balti chicken curry …
Hope we don’t have to run to the loo in a hurry
A huge pot of spaghetti bolognaise for our tea
It’s my son’s favourite hope there is enough for me
At one time I used to bake an awful lot more
But university took my son from our door
With just two of us left to eat a massive cake
If I stepped on the scales they would start to quake
So now baking is reserved for high days and holidays
Must dash now need to get out the baking trays!
25th August 2014
A KID’S OPINION ON FOOD
Some food is horrible, such as carrots - they are carrible
Not fit even to feed to parrots - taste just terrible
And worser food such as maize is more horribler:
He calls corn-on-the-cob - corribler.
(I know its corny to say so, but when he tests it
It’s obvious he just detests it.)
Horriblest of all, even if the harvest is blest and bountiful,
Is fish - given repeatedly by the mouthful.
But the ultimate poison, - in the opinion
Of an expert in food like my little son -
The mostest horriblest is. . . . . liver :
It should simply be thrown in the river.
I'm breaking it open to take a lookee.
What does it say inside my fortune cookie?
I lean into the fridge to get a bite to eat.
And as my nose attests to,it doesn't smell too sweet!
I'm trying to decipher what that is in that dish.
And much to my dismay,it's month-old tuna fish!
There's odd assorted bowls of only God knows what.
They've been pushed to the back and hidden there by glut.
I'm so mad at myself for letting it go this far.
I even found I'm cleaning out an empty pickle jar!
Potatoes growing fur and other nasty things.
Moldy bread,soured milk,and dried up chicken wings.
The nose knows that I should learn to fix just what I need.
Cos' leftovers land in the ozone,of this I must take heed!
for contest"Offensive Odors or Noise Pollution"
sponsored by Susan Burch
Potato chip, I love you up,
my darling little buttercup.
A cup! A Reese’s chocolate one
with peanut butter. Oh, what fun!
What fun is time with nacho chips;
delightful cheese to tease my lips.
My lips around a hamburger,
with onion rings my heart to stir.
Stir the chili in the pot.
Add tabasco; cook it hot.
Hot, that snack I love so well,
is buttered popcorn that I smell.
Smell the pasta fantasy-
sauce and parmesan for me.
Me and cheesecake, cherries atop.
Once I start, I cannot stop.
Stop for ice cream; what I wish-
a sundae sitting in a dish.
Dish me up some southern fried
with mashed potatoes on the side.
A side of bacon, crispy fat.
I see nothing wrong in that!
That’s a spicy hot tamale.
Enchiladas make me jolly.
Jolly Christmas; candies sweet,
turkey, ham; so much to eat.
Eat a pizza. It’s the best.
Now I’ve gotta take a rest.
For Deb Wilson's "My Passion" Poetry Contest
I had a short life but didn't think my fate
Would be ending up on a Thanksgiving plate
But I won't be giving thanks on this day for I'm not able
It's because I'm laid out on a Thanksgiving table
I'm not stupid as people have said
I had small pleasures like a scratch on my head
Though I never thought I'd end up dead
With my insides greatly over-filled
I've been dressed even though I've been killed
While some of Sally's fortune cookies are broken into bits;
it's easy reading fortunes when their open in the blitz.
She saves them for my rainy days or so I'd like to think.
It's how to run a business when you serve one with a drink.
I tell her all my fortunes are always coming true.
More importantly their tasty and very good to chew.
She knows I don't need luck; that her cookies are a treat,
and sees me wash them down with a coffee extra sweet.
And with the cookies and their luck thirst will come to me
as Sally goes with friendship like a coffee or a tea.
Here I am...just a tiny Krill
Alive and well, swimming still.
I wasn't eaten like my buddy Hank
Taken by a Beluga, before he went off to the tank.
My only safety has been in our school
One whale, however, can instantly reduce that pool.
I always shudder at the thought of being eaten alive
When all I want to do is swim and survive.
But we Krill are so special in the food chain you see
I don't know if I will see my hopes, or if they will die with me.
I'd like to turn the tables on those whales just once
See how they'd like it, if upon them I'd pounce.
Oh, to be able to eat just one of those creatures
To digest it then burp, as I enjoyed all its features.
They are the biggest things I have ever seen
And that's o'er all the earth, wherever I've been.
You wouldn't think that such a tiny creature like me
Would have to ever be ready to swim in a hurry.
But you know, when I really think about it I see
Just what the attraction is in a creature like me.
We are small and quick and abundantly abound
I suppose we are tasty, or they wouldn't be around.
We know that we are just simple little Krill
What we don't know is...when is the time for us to be killed.
Coffee sitting on a table coloured golden brown.
Just a sip from drinking it and sending it on down.
Made with sugar; made with cream; perfect cup of brew.
Some will say they love it; some will say "I do".
Smooth to drink and mild for flavour; warm upon the tongue.
Swallowing it seems like an end -and coffees life begun.
If you don't eat much meat,
you make easy ends meet.
“Mother…for whom love was enough”
Love and a sense of humor were Mother’s tools of trade
and a judicial wisdom with every judgment made.
She used no threats, no whips nor straps to discipline her brood.
No swear words or shouts did she employ to force us to be good.
We each were quickly sorry, if misbehaviors or our lies
brought signs of disappointment to her beautiful gray eyes.
Daddy and Mama were a team and didn’t sabotage each other.
His one firm rule that he enforced was a simple “Mind your mother”.
My mother’s meals were evidence of her enduring love,
She turned out her delectables on an ornery old iron stove.
No one ever had to be called twice to one of Mama’s meals.
We came eagerly anticipating the treat each bowl reveals.
We were so happy at that table, with Daddy at its head,
as we sat thinking of the food, throughout the prayer he led.
She cooked to please our daddy with Pennsylvania Dutch dishes
And on our birthdays pampered us with our selective wishes.
When we were sick our mama used her love potion to kill
all of the foolish bacteria that had dared to make us ill.
She never was too busy to attend our little bruises,
to wipe our tears with her clean apron, one of its many uses.
She raised her seven children in those days when times were tough.
We didn’t miss the luxuries. She had taught us, “Love’s enough”.
By: Joyce Johnson 8/25/11 For Constance’s contest “Mother”
I hope and pray, I never die like this.
For this would not have any bliss.
Running to a room with pain in chest,
Maybe from something I did digest.
Hoping to get rid of something thwarted,
Dying from heart attack as it departed.
Sitting upon a white porcelain throne,
This is not the way I want to be known.
Though hopefully my actions will pass,
Maybe oh maybe, it’s only a little gas.
If I were a king, then I wouldn’t mind.
Upon a golden throne they would find.
That I had died in gracious peace at last.
Though, my before mentioned place aghast,
Since I am no king, to pass away in jest,
There’re worse ways to die, then doing my best.
Sponsor Natalie The Rogue Rhymer
Contest Name Die A 'Fun' Death Contest
He is everything good inside you and I
The alpha and omega the earth and the sky
He forgives our trespass as well as our thoughts
Don't get confused for he can't be bought
He is the planets as well as the stars
I first found him inside prison bars
He is all that has been or could ever be
The sun and the moon the sky and the sea
He is the beauty we see in a flower
He created the universe with all of it's power
He is the teacher who teaches us best
He forgives us our sins and offers us rest
He is the one who offered his Son
To forgive us of things that we have done
For he is love in it's truest form
The comfort inside that makes us feel warm
He gives unto us the right to choose
The ultimate choice of win or lose
When you feel lonely and full of despair
Comfort is waiting in a single prayer
He is the one thing from which we can't hide
For he is the spirit that lives inside
He is the beginning as well as the end
For he truly is "our dearest friend"
A sea gull flew over the ocean admiring his reflection every day.
Passing over the shore, he saw penguins at work and careful play.
What an ugly bird they are he suddenly proclaimed.
They can’t fly and still they strut… know they no shame!
One day the gull was swooping down angling for a fish…
When suddenly an orca whale knocked him in the briny brink.
Snapping and churning the orca would soon have his way.
The gull was surely lost, if he could not gain the air to stay.
Moments before the whale pod arrived the penguins chose to assist.
They chose to distract the whale, giving the gull a chance to resist.
The orca didn’t care which meal he had as long as there was one…
He finally beached himself upon the shore, and still he hadn’t won.
At that point the gull realized, the penguins were really seriously cool.
They could certainly fly in the water, if maybe not the air to rule.
Now friends for life… he would scout for them safe passage to their fish.
Indeed, the gull flew away that day a little wiser, knowing he’d been remiss.
Everyone in life is different. He surmised… It’s not a choice they’ve made.
But now he knows each demands respect… in their own separate way.
Yes any soup is great for a nasty cold.
Just be careful that it is not really old.
Home canned soup can be really great.
Though if the seal is gone, don’t equate.
Store bought can soup can make the heat.
With protein sandwiches definitely compete.
Frozen homemade soup if heated up just right,
Can completely win over any colds plight,
Feed a cold, starve a fever is what they say.
I believe these words truly in every way.
Maybe we should all try some old remedies.
The aged of our past had knowing of amenities.
Dedicated to PD
**GET WELL SOON ~PD..
Chicken, potatoes, and cold pumpkin pies
The food on the table is covered with flies
White ones and red ones and black ones and blue
Just look at that mountain of laundry to do
Dishes and pot lids and pans that are green
Oh, look at this pile of dishes to clean
Here there is carpet but there there is none
I wish that this pile of garbage was done
Smudges on windows and dents in the doors
Remains from the hundreds of food fights and wars
Couches all tattered and furred by the cats
A mound of cracked snow boots and sweaty old hats
Dishes or laundry or piles of goo
I have me a plan and I know what to do
Toss 'em out windows or down the front stairs
I know this is cheating but who really cares?
Out goes the laundry and stashes of junk
From Adam's green apron to gramma's old trunk
There go the dishes all covered in mold
Along with some food that is forty years old
Off with that chair and "The Three Little Pigs"
Things that are broken and "How to Grow Figs."
Off with this junk that my kids left behind
This statue of rocks and a petrified rind
BEACH PICNIC FOR TWO
Calm and tideless,
Warm and timeless,
Unsalted, undeep –
Warm Baltic half-asleep
Hot sand, hard pebbles –
Dark sparkling crystals
Heated and sunlit,
Ancient and granite
In the tree’s glad shade we rest.
Sand and branches make our nest.
Seeds fall on us in a shower
From the bird-cherry’s fragrant flower
Hungry from the happy day,
The bright and shady, lazy bay.
Cool aroma in the dark –
Cooking fire’s smoking bark.
Sandy sandwich, melting cheese,
Brush the breadcrumbs from our knees.
Afternoon of scented air
For a carefree laughing pair
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
(Description of an actual picnic for my wife and myself.)
Written for Carol Brown's Contest - PICNIC TIME
Sally gave me an eggroll
when business had died-down.
One small and glistening eggroll
to take away my frown.
Thank you Sally; you generous Sally,
whom the dollar has no meaning.
You've bent the rules and made man fools;
and taken them out for cleaning.
They're funny, the noodles,
if they are not oodles.
"No small money" she barked at me; seeing my bill was ripped.
But it was bent and soon unraveled; Sally had had it gripped.
Shocked and relieved that it was good; my meal could be paid.
I smiled at her and sighed relief then took my food in trade.
She handed back the little change I'd get from my five dollars.
while knowing she would get it back from one of several callers.
Then sitting fast to eat my meal I thanked and praised my God.
Not forgetting Sally's humour with each bite that I knawed.
He says that he is going to take my turtle away
No longer can I hold it and spend time at play
The beauty of the dark turtle shell with the feel
The feel of a rock that has been washed by water 'til
It is smooth to the touch delicate soft sleek
But no_ no scent of that famous plant leek
No my turtle is special for he was designed for me
To entertain me in my lonely afternoons that be
He says that he is going to take it and make soup
How can he even think that thought impossible_doupe
How can I stop him from doing that what can I do
Hide that is what I will do __come out and boo
While I'm in hiding I will unwrap the wrapper
Quietly and enjoy the turtle that lusious trapper
That sugar free Turtle in the famous package
The red and brown wax coated that makes rackage
That will stop him_ no Turtle soup
Nope! Just joy for me he's douped
Striped with yellow,orange and white
This sugary treat is such delight
Chomp it down with so much pleasure
As candy goes it is a treasure
A sure sign that it's Halloween
In all the stores it can be seen
So get your costume primed and ready
The days are winding down so steady
Soon is coming that fun night
When haunted houses are a fright
Moms and dads give candy corn
To kids with awesome costumes worn
Gracious Sally; my black haired Sally.
You've dawned a bright red cap.
My chicken balls; my coffee please.
A fortune before my nap.
You've tinged your bell; the coffees ready.
The customers turn their heads.
It's you I see; you waiting free!
with chicken balls in their breads.
And when at cash you call for me
and nod a tray you pass.
That after money and after thanks
your smile comes with a laugh.
Dearest Sally; your foods gone dry; it's reached the end of day.
You think about your garbage pail and waste you'll leave today.
But I am near, you see me come and pity my thin build.
You give to me your dried out food; the samples till I am filled.
So thanks I say for all you give, each sample from the oil
and peace and joy within your kitchen, forever may you toil.
Chirping of birds on the balcony grill
Hot Darjeeling Tea with newspaper on day chill
Ringing of Temple bell on a calm early morning
Sweet delicacy melting in mouth without churning
Thunderous lightning sound in rainy season
Chilly flakes cracking the lips wide open
Meowing of playful cat on double bed
Sweet-N-Sour soup tingling the taste bud
Hiss of snake scaring playing poodle
Pungent sauce scouring maze of noodles
Jingle of repetitive ad between soap
Bland as dieticians dinner of soup
Inaudible whisper of dying man nearby
Gulping Bitter medicine with closed eyes
As servant to Sound and Smell, mind has to behave
Taste and Ear buds left with no rest till grave
( Entry for Members Contest - Sound & Smell by Frank Herrera)
An eggroll on a mission
from Sally in the back.
Delivered to my table
by little Sally Trac.
Included is a plum sauce
and napkin on the side.
A kit fit for survival
that's fattening and been fried.
A food made rich for washing
with Red Rose famous tea.
Just one of four she carries
that Sally serves to me.
I'll grip the plastic spoon
to stir and press the bag,
then lift it to the table
to sit it and to drag.
Each sip will be refreshing.
The taste around my tongue
while mixing with my eggroll;
the beanspouts I have strung.
The eggroll's final mission;
a thankful one at best.
To not forgetting Sally Trac,
without; would not be blessed.
Loose are the oven mitts that covered mama's hands.
Cold are her rustic pots and pans.
Stained are the pages of her favorite cookbook.
Lull hangs her ladle on its metal hook.
Hiding on the ceiling is the once dancing steam
of beef stroganoff's sour cream.
Silent is the spatula that served family guests.
Quietly the food processor rests.
Daddy can only cook up a sweat,
and I'm too young to read a recipe yet.
There's no warmth in the kitchen since mama's decease.
These objects are resting, but not in grease.
Sally's stuffing eggrolls in the back room.
Filling them with beansprouts
in case they have a boom.
Hundreds of these eggrolls
piled high for later.
Boiled in an oil
for each and every crater.
Some will go behind the glass
warming in a pan;
shining in their dipping oil,
tempting for a span.
Placed upon a plate and shimmied
to the side;
up against some rice
that's deep and dark and fried.
Dipped into a plum sauce
sweeter than a sneer,
and spread out on your plate
as far as you can smear
Flavour by the mouthful
damp and moist and wet
Sally's making eggrolls
the best that I can get.
Sally's broken fortune cookies
are piling in the back.
Orders being broken
by men who won't take flack.
Boxes dropped by workers
anxious to get home,
cracking Sally's cookies
and leaving them like Rome.
In time I'll go for coffee
when Sally's counting pieces.
With luck she'll give me several
until the dropping ceases.
They'll come in tiny bundles
wrapped in plastic bags;
that some will come with fortunes
and some will be in rags.
The truth is that they're tasty
and worthy of their ranks.
I'll have to say my blessings
and Sally: say my thanks.
Parsnips say I, oh please try them, do,
For Parsnips are so good for you!
But no, you just won’t try them, will you.
Instead, you stomp and cry and stew.
You’d rather waste your time with lettuce.
Fine for you, but please don’t tell us,
That what we need is more brown rice.
I think you’re just not very nice.
So off I go to eat with Martin.
He loves his pintos and just keeps fartin’
For taste is simply a personal matter
So, instead, I’ll just throw my parsnips at her.
Your lettuce wilts and rice gets sticky.
Oh, my, the food you like is icky.
So here I sit alone to stutter…
Please go and leave me with my peanut butter!
Or even my nice sweet chocolate bar.
To get it I would travel far,
Beyond the endless bars of salad.
So ends this trite but tasty ballad.
Soft, silky, sweet and slow
Sexy, sensual and aromatic
Please release your concealing top
Send me into a daze let mind go . . .
Natural taste so rich it’s lovely
Thank you bee's for producing honey!
I am an invisible man.
Try and see me if you can.
Shy and quiet I remain alone.
Silent is my voice’s tone
No one can feel my pain and sorrow
As I hide inside of my burrow.
Shadows consume my body and soul
As I embrace the misty cold.
The reason for my unseen being
Lies in the fact I hate being seen.
This life and existence’s of my own choice
And I choose not to have a voice.
I am silent. Invisible. Inexistent.
Yet I am invincible, an immortal being
Did you happen to see old Sam?
He's my poor turtle on the lam
It happened he was told
That his body had been sold
To a restaurant in the city
Where the cook had little pity
On the stove he put the pot
And the veggies that he got
But he had no turtle meat
So decided he would cheat
Chicken tastes about the same
Or so the turtles always claim
So his turtle soup became a mock
Cause he made it with chicken stock
For the Turtle Soup Contest
i have a taste for some type of ice cream cake
if i have to steal it, then it is yours i will take
whether butter pecan, vanilla bean, chocolate chunk, or cookies and cream
the way it feels going down my esophagus is like living the ultimate dream
give me snickers, mint chocolate chip, or cookie dough
i will be so beside myself that i may just put on a show
right now i am at the point where i do not care where it us bought from
just put an ice cream cake in front of me and i will show you how glad i glad i am that you bought one
How blessed I am that you are in my life
Not a day goes by when I do not think of you
You make everything alright
To you I do not have to prove myself
For you know me
I love you
How blessed I am that you are in my life
How honoured I am to be a part of yours
Memories made and shared
With you the one I love
My friend, my lover, my queen
'Til the end
Paula Deen, the Southern Queen,
Known for decadent cuisine,
Just revealed that she’s concealed
Some news from which she hasn’t healed.
This cook-show host was diagnosed
With Diabetes, which engrossed
Some former fans, whose current plans
Include no dishes from her pans.
Her food is fried or butter-fied;
To cut out fat, she never tried.
Some folks observe the food she serves
Has given her what she deserves.
In one regard, it must be hard –
Her cooking lard must now be barred.
With all this heat, she shouldn’t cheat,
For we are truly what we eat!
Fruitcake, oh no! I don't like.
I'd rather give it to Mike.
Fruitcake tastes to me more than bad.
If you send me one I'd get very mad.
Fruitcakes are not really fun you see.
So please don't send one to me.
Fruitcakes tastes like a nasty piece of rubber
Just thinking of them makes me shout and shudder.
Dorian Petersen Potter
Meniscus, meniscus, my coffee is cool.
Little meniscus I'm nobody's fool.
Once you seemed warmer; held by my hand.
Then there's this draft from a Tim Horton's fan.
Might be the windows cooling me down.
Maybe the door rifting around.
Regretting my coffee; some see my frown.
Little meniscus my cold little crown.
Maybe I'm thirsty; maybe too cool.
Currents come at me; stealing my drool.
Little meniscus forgive what I said.
Now that I'm drinking and thirsting instead.
Little mensicus circling my cup.
Not rising over and burning this shmuck!
Sally strolls outside her cubicle collecting dinner trays
wiping some while stacking all she carries them to the back.
She's back at cash with ready eyes knowing that people will come;
sometimes soon; more-often late; some of them just to snack.
But while she waits she sips a brew; green tea that's been dipped before.
Then nodding her head she bows and swallows relaxing her vocal chords.
Approached by a customer she rushes her food firm to the spoon she scoops
while piling the plate for six seventy-nine and giving the customer hoards.
With pushy hands she slides their meal across the stainless steel
while raising her hand to take their bills and clipping them in the till.
Then up with change she raises her head and smiles to the customer's face.
And thanks them well with will and grace and hopes they'll get their fill.
Raise it all up
Dark Black Coffee
Straight from Zeus
Coffee Coffee Coffee
Sugar sinks in sprinkles
Stir stick bent and plastic
Aging fast in little wrinkles
Coffee Coffee Coffee Coffee
Steam will rise into your eye
Drink your coffee slow at first
Little drops will burn your thigh
Coffee Coffee Coffee Coffee Coffee
Whats a matter you
You no like my appatizer fool
Took finest paybill dated sept 8 2001
Placed in spiral wheel wala pasta's done
On stove top a cell phone boils away
Less then 30 minutes white sauce becomes choice of the day
Time to check on a broken pencil running through Bobby Flay's blender
Dash here dash there make you get lead out or even make you look tad slender
Last but not least we have a pair of bifocal glasses thats chopped rolled and saute
Biggest meatballs hope judges won't lose off their plates and watch just roll away
When food begins to talk,
And veggies begin to walk.
See the time in the clock,
Then get ready to grab a fork.
Strawberry pie and her friends,
Keep on setting new trends.
A war between ice-creams and shakes,
And cake says I am ready to bake.
Then came the Boss of all-“CHOCOLATE”,
So everyone doubts their fate.
I think I will eat them all
Because I am standing at a free sample food stall!!!
< You Snooze
Get Out Of Bed
Get A Job
Loves To Dream
Hell No !
Gotta Go !
Work You Know
See Ya Later
Dearest Sally; your food's gone dry; dehydrated in it's oil.
You think of how you'll throw it out, before it starts to soil.
...but then you see that I am near, and offer it to me
and thank your sample fryers that I'm getting them for free.
Sally's Sample Fryers bring special thanks from me.
The morning breezes here are swift,
the pigs need slop, I get their drift.
A mournful cry wafts from the shed
the cows need milking, job I dread.
Moonlit thermometer reads twenty
but there are still fresh eggs a'plenty.
While morning breezes bring me shivers,
your head is buried under kivers.
When morning's wake disturbs your pleasure,
reflect on common foods you treasure.
Oh yes! enjoy your breakfast vict'als,
but ruminate on the farmers' rit'chuls.
Two AM and I struggle to stay awake
Perhaps its time to take my break
Lights are dim and patients sleeping
Reassuring sound of monitors beeping
Eyelids becoming heavy, fading fast
Needing to find some caffeine at last
Fill my cup to the very brim
Just the thing, a jolt, an acceptable stim
Not Starbucks, but that's alright
It still helps the "no sleep" fight
Just when I start to somewhat revive
The call light comes on in Room 105
Guess I'm off to comfort the sick
That cup of coffee did the trick......
I can enjoy a tasty meal
But I must tell you how I feel
If you’re chewing very loud
I can hear it in a crowed
If you’re eating very near
I must make it very clear
That your mouth must be kept tightly closed
Or I will simply just explode
My skin crawls when food gets teared
Crunching hard makes my eyes completely flared
Open mouths will make me scream
When people eat just like a machine
Popcorn, chips, or even gravy
Eaten loud will make me crazy
Any food munched on with force
Will lead me to act with out remorse
I don’t know when or what or how
But I can promise you just like a vow
If you begin to chew
I will turn into someone you wish you never knew
so here me now in my innocent plea
Eat gently when your in front of me
For my ears they quietly adhere
For a noise that brings them to tears.
By: Sabina Nicole
He is fatter who is able
to ignore his friends at table.
It was a long summer and the bees did their job,
For the trees were filled with apples, hanging like little knobs.
Oh, those orbs, they looked so delicious and red,
I gathered so many, I had to put the bushels in the shed.
They would be the source of a season of treats,
And anyone who wanted, could have their fill of the eats.
Cakes were baked, Crisps were done too,
I even tried my hand at fresh applesauce, before the season was through.
I did apple salads and baked apples as well,
But it was the pies that got adulation, so of those I will tell.
Paring and slicing in an expedient way,
The apples were ready, shortly before midday.
Then with a mixture of flour, sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg,
I make them into a filling, that would even make a king beg.
I've tried so many kinds of pastry to fill,
From filo and puff, to rolled out traditional.
And I have to say whilst patting myself on the back,
They all taste great, flavor they do not lack.
The traditional pie is the one most people enjoy,
I have tried to improve on it, since I was a boy.
I learned how to make it at Mom's left hand,
Roll out the crust, the filling never canned.
Pats of butter on top before you cover,
Make for a pie that will be loved world over.
Then to seal the pie, brush it with melted butter, and cut some slits,
Pop it in the oven, and just wait for it.
The tantalizing aromas just make me wild,
Just as they did, when I was a child.
The moment the pie comes out I can see,
That another triumph has been made perfectly.
The dome is golden, the apples are done,
Now, only to wait for it to cool, before we can enjoy some.
Some like it ala mode...with ice cream you know,
But I'm a plain Jane, and for me it's not the right combo.
So I just have a slice that's warm on the plate,
And will my appetite, begin to sate.
It is one of my favorite desserts,
Of this I will always my willingness assert.
The only thing that troubles me,
Is all the bushels left to peel, when I have time free.
But I will do them, and into the freezer they are thrust,
Waiting for me to them into another pie, as so often I must.
Hunger is Rampant, children in jeopardy
Zeus is dismayed, I must take aim quickly
So many creatures, resources abound
Sacrifices to be made, food must be found
With hollowed eyes, gaunt infants implore
An attack on famine, I declare war
Let not one more night pass without food
To select a source, I must act shrewd
I scour the plains, survey the cattle
Gently they graze, no provocation to battle
Perhaps it is best to turn my swift arrows
To greed in halls of wealth so hollow
Who’ll be the first to offer a donation
Dare I attack corrupt corporations
Take my first shot at wealthy who waste
Use their money to give children a taste
Of life as it should be, natural order
The food chain’s bottom, the greedy hoarder
Those who defy Diana the hunter
Should be the first to die from hunger
Where, oh where, did I leave my mocha,
If I find you took it, I might just choke ya!
1.Eating meat to swell
how can pity?
2.Protect hoarding as to
mercy abjure meat.
3.Heart of tasting meat
as armed unkind.
4.Mercy is unkilling, unkind
kills, flesh-eating unrighteous.
5.Life, non-eating flesh even
hell retains eater.
6.If unkill for flesh-eating
none sell it.
7.Avoid flesh-eating if realizing
sufferings of beings.
8.Pure from illusion evades
eating life-less flesh.
9.Avoiding mutton betters thousand
ghee-burning sacrificial rituals.
10.All beings revere kind
non-eaters of meat.
Dedicated to Thiruvalluvar(31B.C), the author in Tamil
Translated by S.Kandasamy, MUSIRI, TAMILNADU, INDIA
Published in poetrysoup.com on 13-12-13
I love peanut butter, my favorite spread
Everyone likes it with jelly on bread
When I was a kid, Mom made a treat
Peanut buttered bananas can’t be beat
Eat warm peanut butter cookies - non-stop
They all had cross marks from a fork on top
Peanut butter on crackers with some honey
Fun to eat and it’s good for the tummy
Peanut butter is also in candy
Reese’s Pieces and Buckeyes are dandy
The thought of this dish may give you fit
Peanut butter on onions, I like it!
Flowers, waiting to be sold,
Beckon, brilliant, bright and bold.
Such a colorful array,
Nature’s palette on display.
Veggies also strut their stuff;
One can never buy enough.
Fruits compete to draw the eye;
Hard to pass that freshness by.
Peasant bread and tangy cheese;
Scones and muffins, sure to please.
Home-made pretzels, farm-grown meat;
Supermarkets can’t compete.
Urban spaces seem to thrive
Whenever farmers’ trucks arrive.
We city folk appreciate
The bounty that their farms create.
It must take so much time to prep
And oh, the crates they have to schlep!
We love the peonies and phlox;
The Farmers’ Market really rocks!
When I was a kid I learned to eat
By ending a meal with something sweet;
Pudding, ice cream, sweet canned fruit –
The need for sweet was absolute.
That craving had been set in stone
When I’m with others, or alone.
My dinner will not feel complete
Unless it’s finished with a treat:
Cake or fruit pie, a la mode;
Worth the sugar overload.
Licorice or Hershey’s kisses
Join the list of never-misses.
Halvah, gummies, chocolate raisins,
Toasted nuts with honey glazin’s;
Cobblers, cookies, lemon tarts,
Any sweet that’s off the charts.
All I need’s a bite or two
To let me know my meal is through.
Dessert is a necessity
And always will be so to me.
Usually, my morning starts kind of late;
too much sleep makes my back ache.
And to ease some of the spinal pain,
I walk blocks to chat with uncle Bin.
On the way back home, I pick up the Daily News;
I scan its pages, but little bugs get into my shoes.
I pass by Linda's coffee shop and the smell
of pastries make me want to stop and chill.
Even strangers say hello with their regional accents;
Helen is from the South and she's made many friends.
" Have some fresh coffee! " they shout as they invite me in,
" Do you live on North Street? " He asks..." My name is Glen."
Usually, my morning starts kind of late while the town is fully awake;
I miss the sunrise over the placid lake, the songs of bluebirds at six.
Written by Andrew Crisci
for Francine Roberts's contest,
" A Couplet Morning "
Merrily cherries were chatting with berries on bunches of bushes below;
the cherries were scaring the berries with stories that every new berry should know:
"Beautiful cherries are succulent very so we became fruit of the sky,
but pitiful berries on earth where you tarry cannot please the tongue nor the eye.
Innocent berries I pray you be wary for mortal consumption is nigh,
and it must be scary to die along dairy in coffins that they call a pie!"
Hominal creatures with ravenous features were coming to pick their dessert.
But which one will sweeten the pie to be eaten the fruit of the sky or the earth?
"It will be scary when they pluck 'n bury your souls in their pies to digest;
I hear such a pastry is terribly tasty when given a berrily zest!"
Mary saw favor in that which had flavor so she found the cherries the best;
the cherries were shaken their rubies were taken to bake in a fiery chest.
Scarily berries were mourning the cherries who fell to a sugary greed;
although all the berries were no longer wary for cherries are tasty indeed!
Like to get rabies.
That's the way babies rock.
Like nice highlighters.
That's the way Writers rock.
I've learned the error of my ways
That buying ice cream never pays
I sit and eat the whole shazam
Well what a little pig I am!
And donuts are another joy
I shouldn't have because oh boy!
I can't pass up a cream filled one
Trust me,the bellyache's no fun
Don't start me up on cheesecake dear
I can't control myself it's clear
So I will have to contemplate
The fruits and veggies I just ate
They'll keep me healthy that's for sure
But celery doesn't have the lure
Of sugar-laden fantasy
I'm stuffing chocolate-let me be!
The table is loaded- Thanksgiving..
More than the family can ever eat
Thanks given for this bountiful privilege,
It’s the same at each house on the street.
But on places all over the globe..
Drought, war and government greed.
Little water, food, education or hope,
How many helpless children to feed?
If shame could nourish even one person,
Then thousands we should be able to feed.
Just one piece of bread from each of us…
We have so much more than we need.
For Sami's contest..A Piece of Bread Please.
Petey's chillin', that La-Z-Boy
Gulpin' Big his refreshing joy
swellin' swell his bellied pot
chillin', thrilling, harey sot
fast-food's bagged, the carton void
Pete's tummy growls a bit annoyed
paper's crumpled and tossed aside
McGregor's garden done gone deep-fried
smartly grasping his cell phone
so he's not alone, when all alone
paws kicked up he's nearly prone
kickin' back his chillin' zone
blue jacket became a red T-shirt
athletic-style that might exert
but rest a minute, take off them treads
and matching headband for forehead
whether stylin' cool or stylin' hot
nothin's stylin' like doin' squat
sista's pleadin' "get off yo ass!
outta that chair an' grip a grasp!"
Mopsy rants loud to no avail
an' so do Flopsy and Cotton-tail
chillin' Pete ignores their behest
relaxin's what ol' Pete does best
remembering that ol' gal B. Potter
sloth feels great but hadn't oughter
all those tales should cut 'im slack
over exertion might make a heart attack
© Goode Guy 2014-02-21
inspired from Suzanne's wonderful sketch at ODU art department showing 2014-02-20
Noodle dinner, Italian restaurant
we leave half the food on the plate.
I'm not full but I want to leave
I say, "I'm tired and it's late."
A new ex-boyfriend, another one
learning about your encounters.
"What are you thinking?" I smile
Unsure, the fork twirls leftovers.
Carryout box, unfinished meal
resolved to say all later.
Bruno's, amazing as ever!
Though the talk isn't served by the waiter.
Amidst the clove of reality and elation,
Lust, of incandescent sensation
Breathing taste into stomach and mind,
Odor, desire, all refined
Steam ascending like a creeping mist,
The smoldering heat shall not desist
Dissolving white, Mmm! flavor endowed,
Slithering upon the brownish origin’s cloud
Then the sweetness, a tap of infallibility,
Adding more flavor, hence tranquility
“Herbally” speaking, the odorous touch,
Finally convenes to create One and no such
Tea of Hayle, art to sculpt,
Tea, milk, sugar, and Hayle in cup…
Hayle: Arabic word for Cardamon
Down home cooking is the thing to know.
Baking,frying and cooking food real slow.
Going to pot luck suppers and a bake sale.
Frying up some hushpuppies and pulling fish
from a pail.
Mom's soups and stews are the best they can be.
She'll dip you up some and served with a glass of ice tea.
Our feeling's go into the food we cook.
The food's so good cause of the time we took.
Sometimes we put a chicken into a pot.
Throw in some dumplins that was what granny taught.
Desserts are the best there all homemade.
Laying under a big oak tree sipping lemon-aid.
Home grown melon by the slice.
It's so good it makes you think twice.
If your hungry stop and try a taste.
Our foods so good you won't want to waste.
There's chocolate gravy and sweet potato pie.
Beans and chili that makes you say my oh my.
Bisquits and bread made fresh everyday.
We learned to do the canning granny's way.
So come on by and grab something to eat.
Down home cooking is such a treat.
Entered in Brian
Pancakes, Waffles, Eggs Benedict...
When I look at the menu I am in conflict.
But breakfast menus are so hard to take,
As sometimes I just want something that's baked.
A Pecan Roll would be nice right now,
Whoever came up with that idea, anyhow?
And of course there's the bacon, ham, sausage and the like,
That's the word I have for all of them...just what I "LIKE".
Oh, I love to eat and have a good time to be sure,
That's what made my body so hard to cure.
Those extra helpings and side dishes all,
Have put the pounds on, even though I am tall.
And try to get rid of them..."Oh, give me a break".
As I look at the Fruit Plate that I am tempted to take.
But the menus have no place for a disciplined face,
As line by line, I read them and taste.
Succulent foods are what I crave,
Looking at a menu, I have to behave.
Because I could eat a lot with my eyes you see,
Room in my stomach, there just wouldn't be.
So I choose carefully when ordering my food,
I want something tasty, satisfying, and good.
And when I am full I will venture to make,
That little gesture...about the "Doggy Bag" I'll take.
Oh, I shouldn't have stated my love of food with such hope,
Because I'll have only words to eat...here on the Soup!
As snowflakes form into crystalline beds
Santa dresses up in his suit so red
Reindeer restless to come out of their stall
Christmas is the most wonderful night of them all
All across the world it's so beautiful to see
People taking the time to fill others hearts with glee
Somewhere high above the clouds in a special place
God and Son sit on their throne a smile upon their face
The reason they are smiling is it warms their heart to see
Love and cheer is everywhere that it could possibly be
Somewhere in a little town nestled nicely away
A worried man looks at the bills he knows he must pay
As his daughter points at the advertisement on t.v.
Excitedly asking of her dad, "Will Santa bring that for me"
Suddenly he hears more mail land in the box
With a thud that hits his heart like a thousand locks
As he shuffles through the bills that day he runs across a card
So he stops and opens it right there in the yard
The thing about this card that made the odds so slim
This man had absolutely no idea who sent it to him
It said,"We know times are tough and what your going through"
"So we placed $500 in this card and sent it off to you"
He searched the envelope and card but there was no name at all
He reckons that makes this wonderful gift the greatest gift of all
He talks it over with his wife and they give half away
To help the local shelter feed the hungry on Christmas day
As we scurry about these days in an awful fuss
I believe up in heaven the Lord is smiling down on us
Because he knows on Christmas day that most all humanity
Takes the time to stop and say, "Lord we give thanks to thee"
Totally fictional poem but the message is one that
needs be heard. In every town across our nation
hungry families will file into the many shelters
hoping to get them and their children a hot meal
and possibly a single gift. If everyone who could
afford to give a dollar would no one would be
turned away - Merry Christmas
The ham was crusted,done to a turn.
This meal was huge,I never learn!
I always cook too much for me.
From years of being a chef,you see.
But this is Christmas Eve tonight.
And I feel sorry for my plight.
When suddenly I had a thought.
I took the gifts that I had bought.
I found some shelter folks to feed.
But really,they fulfilled my need.
For cos' of them I'm not alone.
I bless them for their kindness shown.
for contest Your Christmas Miracle
sponsored by Carolyn Devonshire
If it were true I am what I eat
I 'd have apple pie instead of feet
I'd have hot dogs instead of toes
Cauliflower ears and a cucumber nose
I'd have carrots instead of legs
And I'd have no eyes just two boiled eggs
I'd have a big watermelon in place of my head
And in place of arms just two loaves of bread
I'd surely have oatmeal where my brain should be
If I thougt this applied to me
For I don't belive that saying is true
I am not what I eat and neither are you
My brother lives a health food life
In Colorado, with his wife.
Breakfast is a smoothie shake.
(I eat bagels, scones or cake.)
Should you want to join his ranks,
This is how – I need no thanks.
Place these items in the blender:
(You’ll be healthy, fit and slender.)
Start out with some chard or kale;
(Spinach, too, if it’s on sale.)
Add an orange (peeled, of course),
Pollen from a beehive source,
Lemon peel, some grapes, a peach,
Mango, kiwi – one of each,
Pineapple – just one fresh ring,
Some acai to add some zing.
Can’t find all the fruits he’s chosen?
Use some berries that are frozen.
If you have a real ripe pear,
Toss that in to give some flair.
One last item from your stash –
Spirolina, just a dash.
What that is, I have no clue;
But I’ll bet it’s good for you!
Press the button – your machine
Will mix it up and turn it green.
Drink it up, just like you should;
My brother swears it’s really good!
As for me, I think I’ll pass
On drinks that look like fresh-cut grass.
Also, other reasons lurk –
Making one is too much work!
Peanut butter, olives, cheese eggs yumm
Fritoes, ice cream, bagel doughnuts umm
not so much
Orange blossoms bloom heavenly
Citrusy orange growing carefully
Full with juice gratifying desire
Orange tree reaching ever higher
God’s passion ripened in the sun
Scent that lingers off each one
Filling the pitcher pouring it in
Feel a quench of thirst begin
Pour a glass of Orange Juice
Pulp in side is good for you
Satisfy the morning routine
Orange juice is nature’s vaccine
All across the land
Many will not understand
Crawling like worms
Failing or discern
The reasons why the suffer
Know that you all are tougher
Dwelling in you He resides
Just asking you to abide
No longer shall the One tolerate
The time has come to obliterate
Spitting in this retort
You all have his support
Keep your reframe firm
Ignore all material concern
Just see things from his point of view
Then in you His Spirit will renew
would you really think it a grotesque crime
if served a plate of deep-fried slime
and too, be thought to be unusually cruel
to be offered a glass of seltzered gruel
famished you go to the fridge and grab
a rusted rack of horseshoe crabs
you have some leftover meat seldom seen
don't serve it up as goulash ice cream
you see, it matters the names we ingest
not many desire a soup of bird's nest
yet some sticks stuck to your avian ribs
sounds more appetizing than some ol' goats kids
so if your aperitive desires a full satiation
don't call a burger a "lean, finely-textured vegetation"
© Goode Guy 2012-04-13
how many of you just begin to salivate when i say the words "pink slime"?
He who eats his leek
does not let this leak.
When I first saw the tasteful steak
I started to tremble and also shake
As in my mouth it had started to melt;
By my each taste bud it could be felt.
Slowly started to slither down inside
After my mouth was really open wide;
Then felt my stomach start to churn
Not worrying about having any heartburn.
Now as I look at my empty, lonely plate
With my steak all gone can hardly wait
For another one which will be like this;
Eating steak to me sure is sheer bliss.
James Thomas Horn
My vice and addiction is not with bookies
But my money’s spent on Girl Scout cookies.
My daughter she sells them and gives me a wink
For she knows I will buy them before I could blink
The shortbreads, the caramels, the cinnamon swirls
The supporters of my addiction are these little girls
I walk too fast on these busy sidewalks under the towering, illuminated skyscrapers,
any tourist or visitor notices the pace of my footsteps...that's so distinctively Newyorkese.
I talk with a northern accent so clear and distinguishable; and instantly anyone
who's visiting this wonderful city, recognizes it...that's so distinctively Newyorkese.
I wear the latest designer's clothes that define the image and ego of my masculinity;
it's so chic to sport the new trends and be admired...that's so distinctively Newyorkese..
I'm an avid fan of the Yankees, and at City Fields I watch my heroes passionately play;
I jump from my seat, when a player hits a home-run...that's so distinctively Newyorkese.
I find my spot on the Great lawns in Central Park, to hear a summer concert or opera;
with eyes focused on the stage, enjoying the moment ...that's so distinctively Newyorkese.
I ride over the Brooklyn bridge, when the water below glimmers, and the lights above shine;
a magnificent view, I'm privileged and glad to live here...that's so distinctively Newyorkese.
From the high sea, I can see the Statue of Liberty...the Green Lady holding the heavy torch;
at Ellis Island, she welcomes everyone and smiles, and that's so distinctively Newyorkese.
Going to a familiar cafe along Fifth Avenue, to chat with old friends and drink cappuccino;
tourists kindly ask me to take their photo, I smile...that's so distinctively Newyorkese.
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
White meat or dark, or in between
I don't care, just so it's lean
My personal favorite is the wings
And gravy made with those gibbly things
I also like the" parson's nose"
Not many people would serve you those
Mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie
That's mighty good eatin' my, oh, my
With family and friends gathered round
We say a prayer, then all chow down
There's so many cakes and pies and such
It' just soooooo easy to eat too much
As the last left-over is put away
I thank everyone for a wonderful day
We should honor the dead, celebrate the living
Don't you wish every day could be...
I’m getting fatter and fatter with each passing day,
And my chest looks like breasts perhaps a child might say,
But when I think of the people that cannot eat at all,
Who cannot work from trouble and the pain of life’s falls,
Then I tell you in an instant, I am thankful for every roll,
Cause it speaks to my privilege from much of life’s toll,
And though my bills are unpaid,
And my cat needs a cage,
As he stains up my carpet with the rage of an age,
And though my daughter’s converting,
To be a Catholic sage,
What me worry? I tell you!
For I bask in God’s glory,
And the rolls on my belly,
Like Santa Cluase Jelly,
Have me rolling in laughter,
Like a jolly old pastor,
So if disaster strikes you, like it has sometimes struck me,
And you are not so pretty or handsome to see,
Rejoice, I tell you in the fat and all that,
Cause at least you’re in the game and you’re up to bat,
And don’t think that tomorrow I won’t try to walk this off,
This cellulite that causes people to scoff,
But in the end my God loves me and that is enough,
That trumps being fat and all life’s little stuff,
That trumps being saddened by the ways of an age,
Cause hey, who knows at the turn of life’s page,
I’ll be back to 180 and benching 300,
And until then I’ll smile and rub on this tire,
I’ll run and perspire, and run and perspire,
And when it’s over, it’s over, and with an ado,
I’ll go home to the Lord and so will you!
At present there are many cases
Where modern folk of different races
Need food for body, mind and soul
Craving to be nourished, to be whole
Thought I could introduce to you
Fulfillment in the form of stew
An age old family recipe
That sends emotion soaring free
Take one chopped liver, be precise
Add just a pinch of happy spice
Two teaspoons full of loyalty’s nice
Handful of hope in small cubes diced
Pieces of courage thinly sliced
Two ripened hearts firmly spliced
A gracious sauce, senses enticed
Enrich the soul with beauty of life
Tickle the taste buds, play with your food
Set the table with all that’s good
Dig in, be happy, understood
This masterful dish will lift your mood
Tastes best when served with pure delight
So have a blast with all you invite
Serves all who’s willing to join the feast
Experience perfection while you eat
As I lay me down to sleep
I pray tomorrow my diet I'll keep
If I should dream before I wake
Please Lord, let it be of cake