My Grammy, smiling so whole
Creates the best pecan pies
A treat I cannot control,
When she plans a big surprise.
Those wrinkled, age-old fingers
Blend honey and nuts on trays
I wonder what secrets lie there,
As add-ons pile a display.
In the oven, goodies heat
Utopia in the making
Even young Sis tries to cheat
Moving the timer," Oh ring!"
On the table, sweet wafts hum
Grammy blinks, " Let's dine";
Buttery flavor; yum yum
Teeth sink portions all divine!
Pasty cheeks lined with syrup
All's finished I can't deny
Wanting more ; Gram hears my burp
"Left some for my Cutie Pie!"
Sheri Fresonke Harper's Plentitude Of Pies
by nette onclaud
Gold and moist the cupcakes rise
Almond flavored; sweet.
In one dash with time precise;
Hunger sneaks a feast.
Mouth aglow, I take a bite
Till I nibble eight.
Sugar- binge, my sheer delight
Though I’m overweight!
Andrea Dietrich's ' Have You Tried a 7/5 Trochee?'
I just can't believe it
I'm addicted to soup
I can't put the spoon down
I continue to scoop
So many flavours
I can't get enough
It's like there's heroin
They put in this stuff
Sure I can quit
Any time I want
But wait a minute
Look at that font
A few more minutes
Perhaps an hour or two
Good thing I kept reading
I got introduced to you
Is pizza a breakfast food? Damn right it is!
It'll soon be on IHOP's menu
They'll have an item called “Pizza Benedict”
Topped with a sweet syrupy goo!
If you haven't tried it, don't go “eeeew”
It'll put hair on your chest for sure
You ladies will need a depilatory cream
For us guys, it'll add to our allure
Bacon Temptation Omelette's a favourite
But when served on a pizza crust
It'll be one of IHOP's popular items
Pizza flavoured hash browns are a must
There's no accounting for people's tastes
Elsewhere, they must think we're nuts
Pizza is a real staple where we live
Probably why we have such big guts
Is pizza a breakfast food? Damn right it is!
The yummiest breakfast food going
With bacon and eggs and pizza sauce
My love for this dish is overflowing!
©Jack Ellison 2012
I'd like to make a reservation please,
A quiet table on Friday at eight.
There will be a total of four that night,
I'm so excited I just can't wait !
You see, some friends I've yet to meet,
Are coming here from distant places.
We're going to talk of many things,
It's going to be a thrill to see their faces.
Do you carry Silver Oak Cabernet,
And what specials might we expect?
They will enjoy the Napa Valley,
Over delicious food we will connect.
I know I do ramble on a bit...
But these are poets from the Soup.
So looking forward to this dinner,
It's going to be such a fun group!
Barbara Gorelick..my companions will be
All those times she took out her tablecloth and spread it
'O so gently'
kept me coming back.
It was her soup I'd see.
The celery bits I'd act.
A broth to be tapped
of oil not strewn.
As thick as the sun
but thin to the spoon.
With bowls like skirts
defending their space.
on modest placemats
marked for grace.
Down splendored chairs
of darkened walnut
My eyes remember
The meal; a moment.
And on her face
her smile and grace
Remind me of
A better place.
Vigus and I were childhood buddies
who ventured to make some ice cream
It was to be our special creation
that would be a dish most supreme
We got some sand from the sand heap
and sifted it with a fine mesh wire
to give the dish a fine consistency
so its quality would be superior
We crumbled up some dried dirt
and pounded it with a hammer
then sifted it with the wire mesh
and made chocolate talcum powder
We mixed these ingredients in a tin
using a piece of stick as a stirrer
and blended them for quite a while
until there was a uniform texture
Vigus continued the stirring
while I added the water
until the mix was nice and firm
and chocolate brown in colour
Now who would taste it first
we both said to each other
After thinking for a while I said
I believe I have the answer
I said let's ask Greedy Mackie
who was quite a beggar
always sponging off our snacks
in a very shameless manner
We asked Mackie to join us
and I got a piece of candy
Vigus stirred it in the mix
in the full view of Mackie
While Vigus stirred in the candy
We raved how sweet the dish would be
Then we asked who would taste it first
saying that person would be lucky
I suppose Mackie's thoughts
could only focus on the candy
When we asked the question
he raised his hand and cried "ME"
We gave him a spoonful of the dish
which he put it in his mouth greedily
Vigus and I watched most intensely
to see what his reaction would be
Mackie bolted for the water tap
spitting most profusely
I guess he learned a lesson that day
that he should not be so greedy
Vigus, Mackie and I were about 7 years old
Eggs, eggs, glorious eggs
I could eat 'em three time a day
Scrambled, poached or sunny side up
I love 'em any old way
Eggs, eggs, glorious eggs
Like a yummy egg salad sandwich
Devilled eggs, I could eat by the dozen
I'll even try one from an ostrich
Eggs, eggs, glorious eggs
Now to some, this may sound icky
At times I'll add a raw one to my cereal
That's probably not for the finicky
Eggs, eggs, glorious eggs
I'm aware of a most recent recall
Detected a trace of salmonella poisoning
Now that won't deter me at all
Eggs, eggs, glorious eggs
Just keep eating 'em, don't have a choice
A day without these delightful wee treasures
Is the pits, no chance to rejoice
© Jack Ellison 2012
Ever try eating a Soft Taco Supreme
And not appear like a glutton
With stuff squirting out all over yourself
Down to your old bellybutton
It's all about this amazing experience
Wouldn't be as enjoyable without it
So forget about all those damn cleaning bills
They're part of the joyous trip
As you chomp away with gay abandon
The messier the better, for sure
Without the mess, you ain't no aficionado
Just someone trying to act mature
Acting prim and proper when eating a taco
Has never been part of the scene
So dig right in, the messier the better
Be a proud taco eating machine
© Jack Ellison 2014
Sweet tooth calling, kitchen beckons to me
Decisions, decisions, what should I make
Pies, cookies, pudding , all good possibilities
They sound swell, but I choose chocolate cake
Checking for ingredients, I have them all
Chocolate, eggs, baking powder, salt and flour
Mix them together as the recipe directs
Patience! patience, should be ready in an hour
For the Comma Fun contest...
In the meadow, weeds flowering
By a cluster of old shade trees
Make a lovely scene attracting
Some butterflies and honey bees
Butterflies sipping each flower
Flit happily from bloom to bloom
Flaunting their wings of gossamer
Giving each other lots of room
Several colours of the rainbow
Painted on their gossamer wings
Put on a brilliant colour show
Such a happy feeling it brings
Bees also join in the feasting
Imbibing each flower's nectar
Doing so with joyful humming
In their role as honey maker
Weed flowers are in Nature's brood
Springing up where ever they please
They assist in providing food
For butterflies and honey bees
Cream puffs, pies, and chocolate brownies
Should surely be banned from the planet
They have no real value, no redeeming factor
We stuff our faces like gannets
Moms always says, “Johnie's got a sweet tooth”
So when he chows down like a pig
It gives him the okay to eat gobs of this stuff
Till he no longer can dance a jig
Now there ain't nuttin' bad 'bout being obese
Some very famous people are blimps
Won't name them here for the fear of a lawsuit
It would leave me tattered and limp
But cream puffs, pies, and chocolate brownies
Are delicious morning, noon, and night
For breakfast, lunch, or important meetings
They're evil but such a delight!
© Jack Ellison 2013
My mother was a single parent
Who worked her fingers to the bone.
She worked long hours morn 'til eve
Then dragged her weary body home.
She fed me every morn before she left
A soft-boiled egg with toast and jam.
I wasn't really hungry, a little thing was I,
I'd've been content with just the toast and jam.
Every morning once she left for work,
I'd run across the kitchen floor
And throw those eggs right o'er the fence
In to the yard next door.
Then one day the neighbour happened by
And chatted to my mother.
In her hands she held five eggs,
A dreadful sight for poor dear mother.
My mother pulled her hair out,
She wrung her hands and begged,
"What WILL you eat, my child?!"
"Well, not those runny soft-boiled eggs." I said.
c ELR 2013
Time to change myself once more
It's my mantra every Sunday
Be good with food and have less wine
This always starts on Monday
Commence with gentle exercise
And eat a smaller ration
By Tuesday this is going well
I'm full of strength and passion
It's Wednesday I am feeling weak
I want to drink some claret
I tell myself to carry on
So instead I eat a carrot
I put myself to bed that night
Hoping not to suffer
Tomorrow is another day
Of course I'll be much tougher
By Thursday I am back on track
I'm feeling rather dandy
I force myself to eat less snacks
And have a little brandy
By Friday it is getting tough
I'm feeling so much weaker
I pour a glass of cold crisp wine
And then fill another beaker
Come Saturday I am off the plan
I've gelled into my sofa
I fill my face with tasty treats
And turn in to a loafer
The sabbath day I carry on
I may as well keep eating
Hereafter I will start again
And do it without cheating
Waves of cinnamon thrill my childhood senses
down Eastwood’s stall for pancake’s fluffy batter
browned choco bits riding on syrup’s edges
and frothy heap of whipped cream topped on platter
Grandma’s chirped voice begins to dance in my head
her sunlit eyes egging me for rounds of treat.
Visions of youth bring me to days, warmly fed,
I end the meal pining for her cherished feast.
Sara Kendrick’s A Pleasant Childhood Memory
Not My “Buddy”
When my friend Nancy moved to a new apartment
For the remainder of her Senior year
Her doggone dog “Buddy” was not allowed
As she asked for my help, I was moved by her tears
A tiny brown mutt who wore a red bandana
Was not a visitor I wanted to take in
But she thought her dog was the top banana
To ease Nancy’s concerns, I finally took him
He was supposed to come with food and instructions
Never before had I provided for a dog’s care
But when Nancy drove up and Buddy arrived at my house
His food and care guide had vanished in thin air
My cats were upset, hid under the couch and bed
As Buddy sniffed around the house for playmates
I called Nancy when Buddy tore up my new rug
She said he was lonely and just needed a date
Nancy suggested I take him on car trips
Buddy fancied himself to be a world traveler
But dog smells linger and I gave him no rides
So he found vengeance by climbing into a sewer
The nine-month school year lingered forever
By now my cats had taken to escaping in trees
When June finally came, I couldn’t wait to say goodbye
But that’s when Nancy sobbed and moaned, “Oh, pretty please.”
Her mother didn’t want Buddy at her house either
And Nancy asked me to keep him all summer
When I replied, “No, he needs to spend time with you”
I quickly lost my best friend, what a bummer!
< Toaster Strudel - Trochee
I just crave toaster strudel
Piping hot pastry
Cool icing so can doodle
So get to popping me one
Time to used noodle
Pop tarts boring just no fun
Choose toaster strudel
Rhyme Scheme: a/b/c/b or a/b/a/b
The meter is trochee, which means alternating stressed and unstressed beats in each line, with each line beginning and ending in a stressed syllable. This is a simple lyrical type little poem, so rhymes will be basic, nothing fancy. The poem itself should give a description of something of interest to the poet and often the meter lends itself to humor, much as a limerick does. There is not a set number of these quatrain type stanzas, but a typical 7/5 Trochee would consist of two quatrains, with the second stanza serving to tie up the idea presented in the first stanza.
LIFE IN THE FAT LANE
Supersize me, Honey, with extra mayo on everything;
But hey, make it a diet coke please -
Keeping fit these days. . . . skiing tomorrow - just the thing:
Chair lift up 6000 feet, gravity pulls me down with ease.
Drive four blocks to the gym, twenty minutes in sauna;
Relax with latte lite in café at the fitness club.
Stroll in the park, admire flora and fauna -
Then couple of beers with the guys in the pub
Jump in the golf buggy now, we’ll play several rounds.
Big into football too, saw the Bears take the pennant last year.
Vibro-belt strips off those unwanted pounds :
Makes just enough room for pizza and beer.
Green striped globe, trailing vine,
Your glories I relate;
Summer fruit, taste divine,
You grow in southern states.
Thick, heavy rind confines
The richness we await
Sweetened by hot sunshine,
Red joy upon my plate.
To choose well I refine
The skills which help equate
What hides in green shrine--
Pick best one in the crate.
Yellow belly--one sign,
A hollow thump will rate,
Sweet watermelon, mine,
"Best one I ever ate!"
July 9, 2014
On Sundays my big family loved TV
for Disney and Bonanza. Mom would pop
delicious smelling popcorn, buttery,
and once I start to eat it, I can’t stop!
It never seemed enough when Mom got done
with popping our best snack food, and since our goal
was not to miss the shows, how fast we'd run
during the commercials to refill each bowl!
Five free range chickens surviving earth’s natural selection...
Spring flowers began to emerge while “Hefei” and hens explored.
Wary of snakes and possums, they moved about with caution.
Hunting, pecking and scratching, together in one accord -
One hen snuck into a pitched tent to lay her lovely eggs.
Behind some plants over wintered in a place nice and warm.
With shattered wing and broken shells, she felt survival plagues.
She emerged escaping death this time, enduring deform.
A few days later, she was gone, feathers strewn about.
One hen, then, another hid…sitting on precious eggs.
Within a month, the strutting rooster crowed his prideful shout.
Nineteen little chicks scurried out close to two hens legs.
ã June 7, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Eggs, but NO epulaeryus
Sponsored by: Black Eyed Susan
Mother Earth spinning on your centre
while revolving around Father Sun
making day and night on your surface
and the different seasons every one
Your flesh provides the vital substance
on which trees, plants and grasses feed
and become food for birds and animals
who partake of them as they need
Some of those birds and animals
feed others higher in the food chain
and become part of the eco cycle
which continues full circle again
All living things decay when they die
and return to you dearest mother
to become substance that feeds plant life
and start off a new eco chapter
Rain and snow from the sky bring water
that feeds the lakes, seas and rivers
which have a food chain of their own
among all their different creatures
Water from the sea becomes vapour
and rises as a cloud formation
which precipitates as rain and snow
and water after condensation
Sun and Earth combine in harmony
doing so since before our birth
Thank you for feeding all living things
Our dearest blessed Mother Earth
Chocolate is nasty
Chocolate is sin
It is insipid
It’ll do me in
Chocolate is yucky
Chocolate is vile
It makes me happy
But just for a while!
Chocolate is poison
Chocolate is pain
First I was sexy
Now big as a train!
“Chocolate, I hate you
Chocolate, you suck
I used to be sleek
Now a waddling duck!
Chocolate, be banished
It’s because of YOU
I’ll soon take up two seats!
Chocolate, release me
Chocolate….DON’T YOU DARE!
Life can be bitter
I need you….be there!
I knew a girl named Peggy Ann
Who turned three shades of mean
Whenever she saw vegetables
With any hint of green.
Bibb lettuce made her curl her toes;
String beans made her lips purse.
Cooked broccoli just grossed her out
And peas were even worse.
No matter what her mother served
Upon her dinner plate,
Poor Peggy Ann would start a fuss
That ended with debate.
She’d whine and whimper all the time
For something else to eat,
So she was given some dessert
Which changed her back to sweet.
And after weeks and weeks of this,
She started to fill out.
Then as the months began to mound
Sweet Peggy Ann grew stout.
When she got too big for the house,
They moved her to the barn,
Along side of the wooly sheep
Where she could spin some yarn.
And when she turned too sickening sweet,
The sheep were kind of glad.
Her own stench sweetened up the joint-
It wasn’t all that baaaaad!
By Susan Burd © 2011
The number of us children growing up was eight.
Each Thursday night was special, for our Dad got paid,
and we would eagerly and hungrily await
his bringing Henry’s fries and burgers home. Hurray!
We weren’t allowed to pick and choose; we had to take
two burgers each with “everything” and one bag of fries.
While we grabbed our own allotment, happy to partake,
Jenny scraped off from her burgers -onions she despised!
Dori chewed so slowly, from her we all would steal.
The baby, Theadora, just sat there and played
with her food. I was strange and always made this deal:
Both my burgers for two brothers’ French fries I would trade.
And so the number of my French fries always came to three.
Even with no burgers, I loved each Thursday night.
for the Henry’s fast food and time with family.
Oh, to go back to those days with loved ones in my sight!
*Henry's Hamburgers was the name of a fast food place in my hometown
For Paula Swanson's "Traditions" Poetry Contest
Twas a few days before Christmas, shoppers
dazed and bewildered, wandered through the store
selecting groceries from off the shelves,
paying for purchases, minds are elsewhere.
In quick succession, three people stepped out
there in front of my cart - could not stop quick
so each was hit gently, not one was hurt
just dumbfounded why I ran into them!
The Quakers, being religiously persecuted, set sail from expatriated England;
they were the first settlers to reach the shore of New England: a free land!
Later the Puritans came and settled in other eastern, bustling colonies
seeking the same religious freedom, but their urge was stronger than dreams.
Many moved westward on foot, on horseback and on overloaded wagons...
exploring the American wilderness plundered by indigenous Indians;
they searched for grassland everywhere, to let their cattle roam and graze;
first they built wooden shacks on vast, lush prairies full of Queen Ann's Lace.
And out of this American westward expansion, came the fearless pioneers,
who sought gold mines...despite the wild cowboys causing troubles
with heavy drinking and desire for unscrupulous women, seeking money and pleasure,
who served them more whisky and lured them to a room with a demeaning measure.
Beyond the Rocky Mountains' and the Appalachians Mountains' skies,
these diligent pioneers obtained wealth with sweat and sacrifices...
changing and shaping the wild landscapes of arable land,
avoiding the drudgery of getting stuck in mud and sand.
It's a short fat sub that I'll grab to bite
Where the juice runs down my gums
As the flavour pools upon my tongue
and my grip becomes all thumbs
And I start to chew while breaking peppers
As the juice explodes and cools
While the taste seems strong and lasts forever
that my corner lips still drools
With a bun made warm to comfort me
Squeezed firmly in my gums
Then ripped and torn for pleasure
While the table fills with crumbs
Now sits the redeye gravy in the pan
It certainly is not at all like jam
Mom made it years ago for her man
Fry some country ham, pour coffee bam
Never knew why it was called redeye
Then my grandson informed me just why
Men who had been out late had bleareye
Who looked like they had been drip-dry
I always thought that it was because
It had dark red color from drippings
In my home it got an applause
I thought that it was God's blessings
I learned my husband doesn't like it
My grandson doesn't like redeye gravy
When I make it only make a bit
Always redeye gravy left heavy
Today decided to place on grits
Feed to the cats see if they like it
Now cat is running around won't sit
I guess that caffeine gave them lift
Dear diary, you know I love you so
And treasure your pages
I never lied to you as that would be fallacious
And not in keeping with the full disclosure laws in Europe
At first I confused you with dairy products
And would leave grass in your pages to eat late at night
While I masturbated over cartoon shows
Waiting for you to moo
I guess that was wrong and I was young
You were simply a book and not there to judge me
Or book me and put me in jail
Forgive me diary as I forgive you for missing pages…By the way….
What happened to June 3rd. 2004 pages?... Remember?...
I was quite explicit in writing several pages on the subject of
An orgy in Atlantic City with show girls, under the boardwalk
Involving fruits, vegetables and assorted live action toys
Dear diary, I must confess, I also thought you were diarrhea
Kept you by the toilet and treated you like a guest
One last question Mr. or Mrs. Diary or whatever the case might be
Are you mute? I never hear from you… I guess that’s good dear diary
5/16/14 Dear Diary Contest