Archetyping of the psyches
Cultural background
Understanding of mankind
Might be not that sound
Trends of music
And the fashions
And opinions
Phenotypes of generations
Rights of various citizens
Models of behaviour
And of interaction
Parties of the politics
Of the whole are fractions
Modern sociology
Paradigms of business
The profession choices
And awareness
Of the how they see us
People do belong to groups
In this quantum grouping
By this wrongly the machine
In its loop it's looping
Can you really to exist
Outside of system
Where for this you're profile
But it's lacking wisdom
What if service is illegal
That's for cyber court
To defend you from the AI
Prove you ain't the bot
Check checkbox
For contracts yours
With the their robot
What for is the Cyber Force
Donut?
There’s a gingerbread contest each year
Where iconic New York scenes appear.
It’s impressive to see,
With each prize nominee,
How creative folks are around here.
First the Statue of Liberty sat
And the Brooklyn Bridge right after that,
Plus the Chelsea Hotel,
Chrysler Building as well,
All within the New York habitat.
Still, my favorite creation by far
Had no building, no bridge, boat or car,
But a real breakfast treat
Most New Yorkers might eat
Which, to me, in this show, was the star.
‘Twas a take-out container of joe,
Which the locals call “cawfee,” you know,
Plus a cream-cheese filled bagel
Someone did finagle
From gingerbread, just for the show.
I don’t know if it won the first prize,
But it brought much delight to my eyes,
So hats off, Juliet,*
For I’m sure, I would bet,
From your project much joy did arise.
*Juliet Galea, the artist
Hooray! Hooray! It’s Bagel Day!
Or so I’ve heard it said,
So substitute a bagel
For some ordinary bread.
Since many so-called “bagels”
Don’t have what it really takes
To be authentic, you may find
You’ve scarfed down lots of fakes.
Do not be fooled by circled dough
Around a center hole.
They must be dense and chewy
Like New York ones – that’s the goal.
Now other places have their fans,
(Hats off to Montreal!)
But some who serve a puffed-up version
Have a lot of gall.
To me, some seeds are needed -
Poppy, sesame and, too,
In pumpernickel, caraway,
And more than just a few.
A bagel’s a delicious treat
So eat it your own way,
But I need no reminding,
For I eat one every day!
O delicacy born of
some cow's milk and dough
when toasted for breakfast
how I love you so
Whether topped with onions
or sesame seeds
or nothing at all
you fill all my needs
With texture from Heaven
the crunch and the cream
Mere toast cannot rival
this flavorful dream
Compared to your shapely
and sensuous curves
I'd never look twice
at a tray of hors d'oeuvres
You've stolen my heart
by now you must know
O bagel with cream cheese
how I love you so
© Mike Wise
6-5-23
Whoever came up with the bagel
was a right-smart clever fellow
His brainstorm surely ranks up there
with taste treats like pudding and jello
For I'd never put toppings on pudding
like lox, tomatoes or cream cheese
And who would think of serving jello
with an assortment of delicacies
So, a doff of the cap and three cheers
for that purely anonymous soul
the centerpiece of whose discovery
was quite an ace in the hole
Treated myself to a begal with cream cheese
The thrill of this treat brought me down to my knees
Five times a day
Like an ass I bray
Is five times too much will I fit my dungarees
Lonely bagel
Loneliness bagel
The bagel of loneliness
Togetherness bagel
The bagel of being together
Bagel of belonging
YOUR MORNING BAGEL Doylestown PA
Consider this, as buds break out on trees
not yet a leaf, the sight that no one sees
as walking through the borough mesmerized
past ancient mansions seen, not realized.
Through early morning air, our sence of smell
arouses to a bagels morning bell;
it tells us to awake, this is a day
we gain another try to make our way.
Past tiny shops of books and pottery
of artists who record what used to be,
and at sidewalk cafes, we take a pause
considering what's real, or never was.
We hear the groan of traffic come alive;
the buzzing of our time and constant hive;
but who can see the budding of the tree
that's made for us to always never see?
Consider this, of time we've none to spare
to capture in our heart the birthing there;
no longer for a blinking of the eye;
what time has brought along, too soon will die.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
A bagel sounding foreign underwhelmingly impresses.
The thought of something different only bores.
Until you take the bite into this tasty composition
and everything you want in bagels yours.
The sour flavour fills your mouth
to sweetness for the tongue.
Saliva churning out in pulp
to leave your mouth as mung.
A basted bagel bright in shine
to make you feel complete.
To wash it down with cup of tea
and make it seem the treat.
A final gulp to say that's good.
and wish you had some more.
With thoughts of doing it over again
for one more chance to gore.
Toast me a bagel, please.
I've a load of laundry in the wash,
fed the birds and squirrels
watered the garden squash
and now must sweep the floors.
Had my coffee early on
but now my stomach grumbles and burns,
in the middle of my morning yawn
growling for something more as it churns.
A bagel would do me fine
with a little cream cheese spread,
guess it's too early for cheese and wine
to fill in the crevices of air in my head.
Could you do the shopping
start the car and go to the store
i'll stay and do the mopping,
have i ever asked for too much more?
Toast me a bagel, just a wedge
before you head out to the deli,
make it dark and burnt along the edge
with whipped cream cheese and just a hint of jelly.
bagels and cream cheese
the best breakfast on the run
for work and pleasure
By Elton Camp
Old Bubba had spent his life in the hills
Plain food and drink from whiskey stills
So to the big city he decided he’d go
For about other things he’d like to know
He spent the night at the local YMCA
For breakfast, to a café the next day
Soon, Bubba had a bagel on his plate
Because, on the menu, it looked great
He tried to take a bite and then to cut
“Man, thet’s shore a sorry donut!”
“I never seen one thet hard and tough.”
Bubba began to chew and had enough
To the waitress, he began to bawl
“This thang ain’t go no taste at all.”
“I see why city folks air sick an’ pale.
Th’ Devil made this donut down in hale.”
So Bubba quickly packed up his gear
“I hate sich food so I’ll git out of here!”
So back to his home in the hills he fled
“Don’t never go there,” to all he said
“Fer I jest half to tell ye th’ truth
On a donut I almost broke my tooth.”
With walker support he enters the door
He’s there every day, from 10 to 4.
Orders coffee and bagel’d cream-cheese
Then sits there for hours with hands on his knees.
He sits near the window and watches his past
Within his mind as old shadows cast
His vague recollections of sweet reverie
Which only his fading memories see
A smile now and then becomes his vaccine
Against reality’s attempt on the scene
To interrupt the flow of the past
Which for decades he worked to amass.
Loneliness he constantly wears as a coat
His only companion: memories remote.
So … solemnly, quietly he spends his days
He rewinds his memories into replays
Aged and wrinkled thin hands so frail
Around 4 o’clock his walker assail
Again he shuffles out the front door
Tomorrow … he’ll return, and be there once more.
YOUR MORNING BAGEL Doylestown PA
Consider this, as buds break out on trees
not yet a leaf, the sight that no one sees
as walking through the borough mesmerized
past ancient mansions seen, not realized.
Through early morning air, our sence of smell
arouses to a bagels morning bell;
it tells us to awake, this is a day
we gain another try to make our way.
Past tiny shops of books and pottery
of artists who record what used to be
and at sidewalk cafes, we take a pause
considering what's real, or never was.
We hear the groan of traffic come alive;
the buzzing of our time and constant hive;
but who can see the budding of the tree
that's made for us to always never see?
Consider this, of time we've none to spare
to capture in our heart the birthing there;
no longer for a blinking of the eye;
what time has brought along, too soon will die.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
A Redneck’s First Bagel
By Elton Camp
Old Bubba had spent his life in the hills
Plain food and drink from whiskey stills
So to the big city he decided he’d go
For about other things he’d like to know
He spent the night at the local YMCA
For breakfast, to a café the next day
Soon, Bubba had a bagel on his plate
Because, on the menu, it looked great
He tried to take a bite and then to cut
“Man, thet’s shore a sorry donut!”
“I never seen one thet hard and tough.”
Bubba began to chew and had enough
To the waitress, he began to bawl
“This thang ain’t go no taste at all.”
“I see why city folks air sick an’ pale.
Th’ Devil made this donut down in hale.”
So Bubba quickly packed up his gear
“I hate sich food so I’ll git out of here!”
So back to his home in the hills he fled
“Don’t never go there,” to all he said
“Fer I jest half to tell ye th’ truth
On a donut I almost broke my tooth.”
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.