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Social Food Poems | Social Poems About Food

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

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Details | Rhyme | |

The Twenty-Five Thousand Dollar Dessert

Is a dessert costing twenty-five grand what you want? You can find it in a Manhattan Upper East Side restaurant. Made with twenty-one types of chocolate and sprinkled gold leaf, this decadent frozen mousse is something beyond belief. It comes in a twenty-three carat diamond-encrusted gold dish. If you found Aladdin’s lamp, would eating this be your wish? This would be something to brag about and quite nice. However, the restaurant has been closed due to cockroaches and mice. From a news story found on This was written a few years ago. The restaurant has reopened since.

Copyright © Robert Pettit

Details | Free verse | |


PoetrySoup …

I Was Heartily Welcomed… As I Sat At Your Table
By:  Carol, Sara, Carolyn, Dane Anne,  Moses, and Abel
               Tim, Leon, John, Michael, Jim and Yoni
               Deborah, Krista, Adeleke and Charlie
   …  James, The (Two) Ruben(s) and (The Quik-Composer) Raul
   …  and Many, Many More, I Love to Hear At Dinner-Call !

                  The PoetrySoup …

… It Has Member – Mushrooms
Chew and Chat Lunchrooms
Delectable  Hors d'oeuvre
Every Ear-Full… Heard
Every Mouthful… Taste
Spoonful of Gourmet Grace
Voila’ Words, Don’t Waste
Simmer-Slow and Baste’

In Dug-up, Sweet Potatoes
  Ripe Food for Thought Tomatoes
And Onions, That Will Make You Cry
Artichokes and Lemons that Squeeze – ‘til You Die
Garlic and Oregano Are Just Some Suggestions
And Here’s Some Mint… for Your Digestion
Parsley to Parley and Jive-Chives, Just Keep Stirring
But There’s No Clam Chowder, Shrimp, or Herring

A Dash of This… A Dash of That Seasoning
A Pinch of That and Sprinkle This Reasoning…
On The Side with the Mustard and Relish, so Fresh
Are the Cucumber-Contest and Radish Requests
And I Can’t Forgo the Tongue-in-Cheek Puns…
Your Laughter is Passed Around, like Hot-Buttered Buns !

…  Poets … Are Proverbial Peas In The Pod
The Harvesters of Herbs-Heard, in The Garden of God
so... Salt and Pepper to Your Superb Style
Did You Say Cheese, Please ?... ( Full Mouth Smile !)
There’s Hot Chicken Broth, When You Are Cold
Everybody Knows… Its Good For The Soul
And All That’s On The Human Menu… It’s In There !
… Even A Mother’s … Tenderized Care
Like Campbell’s Brand… Its Umm… Umm… Good !
The Aspire – Asparagus, I Took… I Understood
So, PoetrySoup’s Cupboard is Never Bare
And There Ain’t No Bones, No Medium, Just Rare
And On The Star-Burner… Is The Savory Meat
So… Grab A Heartbeat-Bowl… and Bona Petit’…

Yes, Thank You, PoetrySoup
(You’re Up There with MoonBee’s FruitLoops !)

It Has Been A Pleasure Getting To Know You All 
Thru Your Beautiful Expressions, Coming Straight
From Your Warm and Welcoming Hearts

God Bless You......


Copyright © MoonBee Canady

Details | Free verse | |

The Children's Bread

Freshly baked every morning,
Even at noon and in the evening,
In different shapes and colors-
Some dense, some light
Some like desert manna
Some flat, some leavened
Some long and whole
Or sliced in small pieces
Some cooled, some hot
So soft and then some hard
With such Heavenly aromas
Served at the Master's Table
Of chairs, booths, benches
And cushions for tired knees,
Healing is the children's bread.
They hunger no more for worldy feasts.
Even their dogs eat the fallen crumbs,
Sometimes portions from their hands;
As the children drink Living Water,
They thirst no more for bitter fountains
And sources of a soul's diseases.
On earth the Master tabernacles
With us for many days of Heaven.
Within without we are healed
And given our daily bread.

Copyright © Leon Stacey

Details | Bio | |

Big City, Big Shot Fool (Me)

A true story.

Here I was,
23 or 24...
Classed an "Executive"
NYC Dept Store Chain,
"Executive" label meant
I could work overtime
For one half of my normal salary...
But a fool sees stars
Where he should see crime

Promoted "Furniture Buyer"....
Big Ticket spot....
They seemed out to prove
Smart I was not.

Big Furniture Market,
High Point, N.C.,
Invited out to dinner,
By big shot vendor....
Oh...whoop, whoop, yea!

Of course, my stuffy boss
was there,
In the next chair
At this odd restaurant...
"The Factory" it's name,
After that night,
I was never looked at the same....

Big shot, Big City....
Big Fool....
It wasn't pretty....

The menu did start
Entrees priced more
Than my annual salary
And I'm confused
There's a boiler next to me!

So this Big City Buyer,
In his $99.00 suit
Ordered a shrimp cocktail,
Oh, what a hoot!

Lights flashing....
Like Studio 54
I had no idea
What I was in for!

Got my shrimp cocktail,
Oh, I do love my shrimp!
But the lemon wedge,
Was wrapped up
My mind now a' crimp

In this decorative yellow stuff,
All fit with a bow....
How do I open it, I wondered...
I wanted to know...

But I'm a Big Shot NYC Buyer,
Sure, I've seen it all....
How dare these dumb hicks...
Have such a gall!!

I took my fork,
I took my knike....
I started trying to open
This thing like....
It meant my very life!

I was struggling,
And sweating,
And frustrated and mad
Got some of the weirdest looks
I ever have had...

These Carolina Hicks...
Out to make a fool of me...
Slowly I realized
Everyone looking at me...

My boss's eyes swollen
In shame
How dumb his young buyer
Should be in a cornfield
And call himself "Town Crier"

Eventually I learned....
This stuff was called
Ridiculous I thought...
No cheddar or swiss
Like this had I ever bought...

In silence I remained
Through the rest of my meal....
To me the biggest embarrassment
To me the biggest deal....

Big City Hot Shot Buyer...
Dumb as a farm hand.....
Put in a Manhattan restaurant...
Without but a strand....
Of what was, what wasn't
Of how, and of why...
All I wanted to do
Is to crawl under a rock
And die!

(This is true!!!)

Copyright © tom bell

Details | Blank verse | |

Dinner's Delight

I drank of your beauty
Sweet and velvety smooth
Your substance makes me tingle inside
Down to my very finger tips

You sparkle in the light
I caress, and you bubble in delight
You make me carefree
Down to the depth of my soul

Appearing red , full of passion
Or pale, as cool as a crystal stream
You make me happy
As I delve into your sweetness

You come to me each evening
To warm my heart
And together we will dine
With you, my fine bottle of wine.

Copyright © Phyllis Babcock

Details | Free verse | |


where the black white shadows 
pond and melt 
her dress 
flutters around the 
pronounced scimitar 
of her neck line. 

Eyes whisper 
with a syllabically thick accent 
as if cold were a ham-fisted lug 
emerging from the 
yawning dark mouth 
of the cabin behind her 
pressing his hands 
with the grip 
of a dying man 
bracing his last breath 
with each 
light blue, 
half moon 

Copyright © Jennifer Brooks

Details | Couplet | |

Living the Dream

My nightmare is 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 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" 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)

Copyright © Daniel Beus

Details | Rhyme | |


For days at a time there is nothing to eat,
There is no where to sleep.
Hunger is a social condition. 
It is a horrible physical way of living.
It leads to malnutrition, famine, and starvation.
It is a plaque and epidemic in poor nations.
First off there is so many children and adults with improper diets or nutrition.
Hunger affects about a sixth of the world's total population.
Why can't we get together, and try to feed the poor,
If we all came together as a whole we can do more.
Let's pray poverty away
We have to make this dark cloud of hunger into a brighter day.
Due to hunger more than 1 die each second.
So to eat a plate of food now days is a blessing.
About 750,000 suffer from hunger due to financial restrictions.
So now I ask you how are we Americans living?
But if we were all well-fed,
Let us not forget about the homeless, because half of us go hungry to our beds.

Matthew 5:6 “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be 

Copyright © Jeffrey Lee

Details | Rhyme | |

Oodles of Joy

"Oodles of Joy"
In the morning of everyday i 
I make a food that's really 
Crunch'em, rip'em, and pour'em out 
As saliva pools form in my 
Put it in the mic for just about 
Impatiently  watching those 
beautiful noodles waiting for 
When the time Is up
I Pop it open and take them out 
And start shoving "Oodle's of 
Noodles" into my mouth. 
Khalil Wali

Copyright © Khalil Franklin

Details | Quatrain | |


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.

Copyright © Andrew Crisci

Details | Limerick | |

Eating out

Loud speech in restaurants is crude
Why are the obnoxious so rude?
Their noise should be banned
This is not a food stand
But a place we pay for the mood

Author's note:  My wife and I went out for dinner with friends last night.  That was the inspiration for the limerick above.  However, this is also an allegory for what is wrong in today's world.  There is a critical shortage of consideration for others.

Copyright © Duke Beaufort

Details | Ballad | |


She smells of stale garbage and wine
Her boots all worn and tattered
Stern-faced and stony eyes
Dressed in a tired ol' mink
She shivers as she takes a rest
From pushing her metal cart
Squeaking and overflowing with
Items reflecting her life
She had been warned twice to move
The choice was not hers to make

Today, like all the others
She will walk ten blocks or so
In hope to find a warmer place
To lay down for the night
Just a corner to rest
Is all she will be needing
She knows this will be over soon
The pain gets worse each day
Yet, her hopes live on for one more day
Her deliverance is on its way!


Copyright © Annalise a.k.a. Audrey Haick

Details | I do not know? | |

Natiional Diabetes Month


Needles and strips. Feet that's sore.
Aches and pains. Meters that store.

Numbers go up. Then they go down.
Cookies and pasta and cake all around!

Daily walks. Nutritious food.
Cinnamon helps. Some herbs do.

Fenugreek, bromelain and boswellia stew.
Fish and pumpkin oils fight inflamation in you.

Drink lots of water. Alcohol's taboo.
Loose the smokes. And spare tire to!

Sweating, shaking, tingling lips.
Too much insulin can do all this.

Or don't eat enough or over exercise.
Can knock you right out. Yes even die!

Glucose tabs. Keep close at hand.
Diabetes can be so grand!......

Copyright © MAF Longfellow

Details | Rhyme | |


This is the best beer I've ever had. 
Yes, The best beer I've ever had. 
No beer is really bad, but 
This is the best beer I’ve ever had. 
Beer’s invention was accidental I’m told. 
Something about stored grain and mold. 
Before the Sphinx, beer was made and sold; 
And at times, more valuable than gold. 
Drank my first beer while serving Uncle Sam.
Got drunk on ‘33' in Saigon, Vietnam. 
By 19, I was a soldier becoming a man; 
So, I drank ‘til I didn’t give a damn. 
Since then, I’ve travelled the world all around; 
And tasted each brew that I’ve found. 
Most are named for people, animals or towns; 
And are glorious shades of gold, red or brown. 

There are pilsners, lagers and ales
Swilled from bottles, cans, mugs…even pails.
If you want to get drunk, you can’t fail.
Drink too much, you may end up in jail.
Drank Stegmaier in old Scranton town. 
Folks bragged it was the "best around“. 
I tried their Golden, their Porter, their Brown; 
And I must say, their judgement is sound. 

In Ireland, the Guinness is Stout. 
‘Tis a brew those Micks can’t live without. 
In the pubs, they all sing and shout; 
Until, eventually, they're all drunken louts.

In old Germany, there are too many to choose. 
Every Berg and Stein make their own brews. 
I tried each one on the Rhine river cruise. 
So many to taste.  How could I lose? 

I enjoyed Sapporo in Tokyo, Japan;
Served by a Geisha at the wave of my hand.
The Singh Hai in Bangkok was grand,
As was the Ninkasi in ancient Tehran.

Tried a lager called Foster’s down under. 
Drank too many.  My head pounded like thunder. 
They say Foster's once laid Dundee asunder; 
But they love it… though you may wonder. 
Enjoyed Red Stripe on Jamaican shores 
And each one tasted like more. 
A local beauty I was hoping to score; 
But next morning, my head was so sore. 
Henry Hudson’s serves Budweiser Light.
It’s weak, so you can drink it all night.
Yes, it takes quite a bit to get “tight”;
But it’s cheap and that makes it alright.   

Yes, beer is a beverage so grand, 
One of God's greatest gifts to man. 
When life gets too tough to stand,  
Just open a chilled bottle or can. 

This is the best beer I’ve ever had. 
When I arrived I was down and quite sad; 
After just two or three, life isn't so bad. 
This is the best beer I’ve ever had. 
Yes, the best beer I've ever had. 

Copyright © Robert Candler

Details | Couplet | |

I love soup

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

Copyright © Brenda Victoria Northeast

Details | Burlesque | |

Suburban Spring

Suburban Spring	

	Springtime fills the air, 
			like laughing gas.
		(Or maybe more like whiskey.)
The suburbs are drunk on the nectar of it's dawn.
	Middle-class houses 
			are starting to dance.
		(Or maybe they're just wobbling.)
They vomit whole families onto their lawn.

			I watch them the same way dogs watch TV:
				Confused and intrigued, 
		with a slight urge to pee.

	The father cuts grass, 
			like a sleepwalker.
		(Or maybe more like a zombie -
Ravenous for cheap beer, instead of brains.)
	A six pack later, 
			he starts washing his car.
		(Or watering his driveway.)
He's spreading on wax so he's set when it rains.

	The mother kneels in dirt, 
			tending the garden.
		(More like digging in a sandbox.)
Her spade is rusty.  (Figuratively, at least.)
	A sunset later, 
			she cooks family dinner.
		(Or maybe orders some pizza.)
(If every mouth is fed, she can call it a feast.)

			I watch them the same way dogs watch TV.

	The son plays war games, 
			dying for fun.
		(Or maybe more for practice.)
He whines about fruit drinks, as well as the heat.
	A full pitcher later, 
			tweaking on sugar,
		(Or maybe just corn starch.)
the war escalates, 'til its time to go eat.

	The daughter makes a picnic, 
			inviting her toys.
		(Or maybe not.)
(Her plastic spread can only spread so thin!)
	After the tea time, 
			she's off picking flowers.
		(Or maybe weeds.)
(As long as they're pretty, there's a vase that they'll fit in.)

		They gather, as a family, at the table to say grace.
		They hold each others' hands and say, "Amen."  
			(And proceed to stuff their face.)

	The dog sits by the boy - 
			Loyal and true.
		(Or maybe just hungry.)
He drools as he stares from the corners of his eyes.
	After dinner, 
                     he offers to help with the dishes.
		(Or maybe he demands it.)
The boy sneaks him a bite.  The dog is not surprised.

	Bedtime comes soon after.  
			The kids are sent to brush their teeth.
		(Or maybe just to run the sink.)
They put on their jammies, and to bed, they go.
	After tucking them in, 
			the parents watch TV.
		(Or maybe they just dream they do, 
					sleeping in its glow.)

	The dog is changing channels, 
			looking for a better show.
				Confused and intrigued, 
		he pees on the carpet below.

Copyright © John Taylor

Details | Haiku | |

Halloween Haiku (for Linda-Marie the sweetheart of P.S.'s contest)

Halloween Haiku

Suburban parade:
A night to transform yourself,
and beg without shame.

Subsequent morning:
Pillowcases wear make up-
Wrappers and trinkets.

The Thanksgiving porch:
Mouth with one neglected tooth-
The jack-o-lantern.

Copyright © John Taylor

Details | Verse | |

Our Day Out

Went out today for a drive with a friend
We'll go into the hills up to heaven he said,
Round hairpin bends,o'er hill and dale we sped
When I looked down the drop did I dread.

Through villages we sped, though not too fast,
That we couldn't admire the places we passed.
Then by and by we came up to our first stop,
T'was indeed heavenly, A herbalists shop.

We had peppermint tea and carrot cake,
I even got something  for my earache.
Pano Akourdhalia was where we stopped,
Carolines Garden, the place where we shopped.

Soon this tranquil rest came to an end,
Off to Polis, we sped with our friend.
Lunch time came and found us there,
In a quaint little cafe behind the town square.

At the Art Cafe where Tina Tamamounas, our hostess,
Our hunger did placate with village salad and lasagne.
Finished off with tea and 'man' coffee and my Cyprus brew,
When hungry, it is a place we highly recommend to you. 

The journey home passed without event,
A lovely day out and we all were spent.

Copyright © Dave Timperley

Details | Kwansaba | |

Shiny Minded Stone

"What's your story?"
she questions,
"you seem interesting."

wildflower eyes
I reply, "NOW."                                                                    (Kwan$aba! Ha! Really, 

often people become confused                                                    
by such a unique response                                                            
not this one...                                                                                
she's a beauty                                                                       
shiny minded stone                                                                  
lives warm under veins
lacks definition of alone

tho solo she stands
tallest green blade
each time the oily blade passes above

she stays the same
tingling pulses exhale her pores
she'd rather sink
than have to think the way of worldly whores

malice skips her
no ripples in the lake
dripping from her face
sunshine slips across tangerine cheeks

gold flows throughout waves 
streaming locks
sky clear eyes surprise those
choosing to be consumed 
by her entice

hands free of envy
no webs to spin
hips unmolested
thighs slick

be warned
she will divide you
no voodoo 
or silly twisted games
though safe may escape you

the girl
baby of zero maybes
she knows

as clarity lent us its giant umbrella 
her lipstick smacked my tongue 
from there
we never looked back


Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO

Details | Light Poetry | |

The Dinner Party

The cars pull up, the doorbell’s rung.
To a hugging welcome, in they come.
With gifts wrapped up and tied with bows
There is warm handshaking, more hello’s.

The men bring in some good red wine
That will go down nicely, when we dine.
We stand, at first, renewing friendship links
While the host is scurrying, pouring drinks.

Then into chairs, we sink to chat
About trips, and kids, and this and that.
Slowly, surely, we all get louder
Telling stories that make us prouder.

The hostess dashes, with some concern,
The oven’s smoking, the food might burn.
Then from the kitchen wafts a gorgeous smell
“The food is ready”, comes a welcome yell

To the table we slowly go.
Each place is marked; a name will show
Each guest where he should sit.
It’s carefully planned for a gourmet hit.

The meal that’s served is fit for a king.
Praise the cook we loudly sing.
The company’s good, with laughter more
Another highlight in memory’s store.

Coffee’s drunk, but they stay awhile.
The friendships great, with plenty a smile..
Time takes its toll, and they start to leave
But when they’re gone, it’s time to grieve.
There’s dirty cutlery, and plates to wash
If I were a Greek, I’d give them a bash.

Next day, of course, the phone line hums
Scores are settled, invites come.
It’s my turn now to enjoy a feast.
If the truth be known.
I’m a Party Beast.

Copyright © Patrick Maitland

Details | Rhyme | |


I've slurped chili from border-to-border and betwixt the roilin' seas,
In fancy five-star establishments and greasy spoon eateries.
I've sampled some that has caused anxious gastrointestinal uproar,
But I'm a glutton for the stuff and always go back for more!

I'll eat chili with or without beans, it really matters not,
Jes' so there's plenty in the pot and it's rather spicy hot!
I'll even deign to open a can of concentrate in an emergency,
But I much prefer a great chef's favourite and secret recipe!

Many are the chili cook-offs I've sauntered my way through,
Tastin' gawd-awful concoctions, my face turnin' a reddish hue!
Those guys toss things in the pot about which I wouldn't care to know.
Their recipes are closely-held secrets and there ain't no quid pro quo!

Now, usually I can tolerate chili from any hot and spicy batch,
But, boys, I'm here to tell you that today I finally met my match.
Satan himself must have brewed that beastly olio!
I gasped, shed copious tears and my ears assumed a ruddy glow!

I'm told its a social blunder to crumble crackers in your soups,
But what care I?  I ain't concerned about jumpin' through no social hoops!
Some of the glares I get from folks are embarrassin'ly chilly!
So what! Me worry? I relish crumbled crackers in my chili!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved)

Placed No. 1 in PD's "Soup-Soup-Soup" Contest - March 2012
Placed No. 1 in David Williams' "My Favorite Dish" Contest - Jan 2012

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw

Details | Rhyme | |

Sshh! Chef's Busy in the Kitchen Making His Seafood Bisque.

Chef 's Winter dishes are simply delicious, not too much oil or cream.

Rich or plain,  taste tested to perfection, tiny portions sometimes steamed

He starts  the day with freshly squeezed orange juice,coffee and toast.

And embarks on a fitness journey along the seaside in Adelaide.

Today he is going to create a seafood bisque inspired by his walk.

This morning whilst  walking along the beach he noticed the outgoing

Tide and outlet  left a long groove with  definite honeycombe indentations

snaking parallel to the shore for a distance near a giant swirly starfish.

From an aerial perspective it looked  like a Christo dragon , hardened ripples

representing the scales and the sometimes swirling patterns here and there

where the giant Sea-dragon moved, slithered or shifted about in the sand .

The Sea-Dragon must have laid there for some time before he disappeared 

as his scales were deeply impressed and clearly embossed in the firm sand. 

A clear body of water flowed  in the center of this outlet echoing the scales

shimmering and gleaming with sunlight smoothly on the groove's surface.
Upon seeing this ,Chef etched it  in his memory and began to mentally gather 

ingredients for his creation.How could he give his bisque the dragon flavour?

Grilling the whiting, prawns and scallops  with butter  laced with honey , chilli,
cardamon + crushed nuts , garlic, a dash of brandy....... 
then adding chicken stock , lime , thyme ,cracked pepper , rock sea salt and 
finally pureeing the lot with a splash of coconut milk.

Copyright © Mariana pavlich

Details | Blank verse | |


Flavors of the sea
Swirl in my mouth
In a tomato sauce
And pasta medley.
I, full of glee.
Music all around me,
Ambience feels so free.
This pub is the place to be.
The food so simply
Deliciously consumed.
The clams are shiny
The mussels so salty.
Swirling medley tastes heavenly.
Exquisity in its graceful serendipity.
The smell, the vibe, the colors.
Oh how I love music amongst
All voices of the others.

Copyright © Marissa Faries

Details | Haiku | |

first class nature

passive high sun shade flawless predatory eyes a happy hour dive!

Copyright © Edward McCormick

Details | Rhyme | |

SOUP Spoonin'

Online tonite
looks like 
a whole lotta' spoonin'
goin' on in the "Soup"

nosin' around the comment coral
I see love 
amongst the group

hot Soup!
not shaken
marriage scent in the air
no fakin'

where it leads...
we shall see
I know some 
are dippin' crackers in the "Soup"
but Lawd' knows 

Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO

Details | Couplet | |

Dirty Dan

<                             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

Copyright © Katherine Stella

Details | Free verse | |

Your Presence

Your presence I feel oh so near, it help me to relieve 
some of my fears of all my everyday cares, I feel your
presence eveywhere.  Whenever I walk down the street,
I can feel the patter of your feet.  I can feel you walking
next to me telling tales of what I mean to you and thinking
about all the things we used to do.

Your presence is so close, it's as if I can smell your fragrance
right under my nose.  I am thinking of your smiling face all
next to mines, telling me how you will love me until the
end of time.  Your presence is oh so strong and as I travel
throughout this day it lingers on.  When I decide to stop and
dine, it's as though I feel your hand right next to mines.  

When I sat down to eat, I can see your eyes staring into
mines, and you sitting there sipping on some wine.
Your presence means so much to me and this is the
way I want it to always be, me feeling you and you
feeling me until forever and eternity.

Copyright © Shirley Long

Details | Light Poetry | |


The smell of garlic in the morning
I caught a whiff as I was yawning
Though it made me salivate
Garlic for breakfast? next time wait!

I'd rather have it late at night
Then your nose, I will not blight
C'mon folks let's not fight
Garlic for breakfast - that's not right!

Copyright © Nick Bagnall

Details | Tyburn | |

sunset slumber





raced to beach, parked corvette, sunset glows!
stretched out on soft blanket;allset--doze.

Dr. Ram's  Tyburn contest

Copyright © Cathy Ncube

Details | Haiku | |


screeching seagulls dive at sushi scraps on a plate - the urchin watches
'One man's stomach does not work for the stomach of somebody else' - South African proverb. Please see the About section for the explanation of this haiku.

Copyright © Suzette Richards