Best Brunch Poems
I am a foodie, I must confess, I swim a few laps for exercise
Along come the Mollusk, and to my pleasant surprise
I have no restraint and they look so yummy
I just open my jaws wide, and fill up my tummy
Holy Mackerel, they make quite the feast!
Unlike that deepwater whale; Moby Vic, that lumbering beast
A real blow show, they eat any freak’n thing
Whale diet: Squid, Krill, Larvae, what distaste they bring!
Ah, catching up to the guys, what are they circling ‘round?
Heya Tom, Bill, GW, Anil. Rob, l see you’ve gained a pound
“I’m on a sea-food diet, I see food, I eat it!” Hee hee hee
Yep, you may want to stick to your day job, try a sea-shanty!
Look over there boys, the Seahorses, I hear they work for LYFT
Harry, how’s business, break for some sushi? California Roll, a gift
You may wanna giddy up, plenty of shrimp crawling beneath you
I know how much the Seahorse love to munch crustaceans too
"Shrimp—cockroaches of the sea! Not a kosher food"
Okay GW, what do you eat, my friend, set the mood
Gefilte fish recipe; grind the salmon, red snapper, codfish,
Onions, carrots, add eggs, sugar, salt, white pepper, in a dish
Stir in ice water, add matzo meal and chop, boil, voila, gefilte fish!
To the right of us, why it’s Lady L, my, she is swell
Small crabs on her menu, anything in the sand that dwell
Blowfish is a species that feeds on poison, dangerous to eat
They can’t hunt, they call ‘em puffers, just one puff’s a real treat
Anil, do you believe in sea nymphs on a blue oceanic parade?
Yes, I vision the lovely face of Wendy on the frame of a mermaid
Nil, come on now, aren’t you married, mate
OK, Tom, I’m going home, I won’t be late, I won’t be late
To the right of us the Starfish, greet the ladies of the sea
How they brighten the day, on display, as charming as can be
Pangie, Valsa, Andrea, Paula, Len, Kim, Eve and Gina
I know how you love snails, I bring escargot straight from the Marina
And so, my friends, another lovely day. Join us for our usual Activities and Brunch
6/11/22
Third Place
A Merger With Food Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Natasha L Scragg
A lone gull,
white breasted
pecked and pecked
at flecks of snow on the ground -
a curious delight this February day,
but what could be found
in nature's freshly poured flakes
to sate the bird's appetite?
She turned and soared away on wings of grey.
By Andrea Dietrich/ Motif is Nature
For "the Impress me with a small poem! (New / Old)" Poetry Contest
of Giorgio A. V.
The same cross you nail someone else's sin to; will be the same one used to advertise you.
The day gold became more important than bartering; was a time the world had been bought, and short-changed.
The time the world had been short-changed; was the moment within ourselves, our heart was corruptible.
The moment our heart was corruptible, prompted our souls scattering.
Now we see people selling their souls for worthless pieces of paper.
And we fashion ourselves as unrecognizable characters.
Woke people scream amongst the loudest traffic, but no one listens because gold keeps on glistening.
The crowd will pass an empty cross, and not ignore it. They pick the ugliest sin possible and say you deserve to be on this.
While going to Sunday brunch, knowing they too, deserved it.
Now, I ask you, was the gold worth it?
DREAMS DEFERRED
dandelion dreams
dancing doting dogwood tree
deforestation
THE QUIET ONES
dark heart’s art tar scars
black blood beating beckoning
sociopath scream
BUTTERFLY BRUNCH
black blue butterfly
breathless beauty blessed beware
bird beak bite bloody
Amberfest Ambiance
Ah, the orange-gold, I behold in things,
Such as the amber, in my wedding ring.
Invitation to a classic, zesty brunch.
Heart-pounding for this splendiferous lunch.
Let's begin shall we, with aromatic toast,
Slathered with orange jam and golden,
Hawaiin honey.(Tis the most)
Gratefully, we do have enough money,
To eat oudoors, and the Pacific Coast is a honey.
Oh, my eager taste buds start to roast!
Eggs Benedict with perfect golden orbs!
Having breakfast on the azure Pacific Shore.
How could I ask, for anything more?
The scent of fresh California orange juice,
In an amber goblet, ah, turn it loose!
This is my divine amberfest breakfast.
Divinity~full of color and golden pizazz!.
So very blessed and extraordinarily, first class!
1/27/2024
between nine and noon
a murky realm emerges…
french toast next to pie
And so the snail invited, me to brunch and tea,
And I excepted joyfully, Oh what great fun this would be!
I put on my pink party dress, and went skipping out the door,
Then I felt the drip, drip, drop, then I felt it pore.
There I stood in my party dress, soaked from head to toe,
Wondering if it’s impolite to stay or to go.
So I stood there in the puddle, slowing forming at my feet,
Until I saw, the great bullfrog, coming up the street.
What a dashing frog he made, in his red bow tie,
So I waved and ran to him, just to tell him Hi.
I told him I was on my way to have some brunch and tea,
He asked if it was with a snail, cause he said so was he.
So me in my pink dress and he in his red bow tie,
We continued on our way, while rain fell from the sky.
We finally made it to the brunch, and oh what a delight,
Snail with his green top hat on, he was such a cute sight.
Scones, cookies and muffins, and I won’t forget the hot tea,
We all had such a good time, I think we can all agree.
I thanked the snail for inviting me, oh what fun I had today,
I was having so much fun, I wish that I could stay.
But I could already feel, myself being pulled away,
And waking up, I sat right up, to a brand new day.
But still I sit and wonder about my friend the snail,
And about our awesome brunch we had, and the tale I have to tell.
Cracker Barrel — always a favorite.
Not my first choice today, but
we go where the grandkids go.
Warming my hands with coffee cup
...waiting...tap, tap...for the follow up.
I wonder if the waitress was in charge today…
Like an arcade ball, literally bouncing off
coworkers, aimless, goofy talk…
Our table, likewise, discordant —
not quite catching the right tune.
An unfamiliar waitress, all over
my granddaughter with hugs —
back off, lady...phew
The orchestrated mess came in due time,
like a thanksgiving dinner, where we wait for hours.
So glad my family didn’t throw a fuss. We were all
hungry, but not...starving.
Our lackadaisical fare showed up with lackluster.
dishwater hash browns, soupy grits. But the
plateful of biscuits, were honestly delicious,
as was the one french fry I borrowed from
my granddaughter’s plate.
So breakfast lacked perfection and some emotional
digestion at the table, but still any day...any day
with my grands is a perfect kind of day,
because I love them so…
11/26/2017
1.
Assist beyond capacity
Doing everything from
Golden heights, illuminating
Junipers, kites, lamps...
Many never obey private quests.
2.
Quilted into our own narrative,
Undulating like inflatable pool toys in the water,
Echoes in our minds the reasons for looking back in time.
Sweet symphonies and crude horrors mingle at this party,
Telling tales of you telling tales about your tales telling tales.
3.
Heaven's Hollandaise hollered loudly at me.
We were wasted and withered, wailing like fat lions.
We had never heard the heavens yell from so yonder in unison
At our great grievances, which glowed ghastly over the Good Earth.
Help! Help! Heralded Hollandaise on High!
Heal our doleful, dead, and wet dispositions,
Let the lawlessness of love linger in our twilight
So that we may move among it, meandering under Mother Moon.
Fried egg heart shape, funge
Fried ham and juicy hotdog
Cup rice, crepe for brunch.
Easter Brunch is a big deal
in the metropolis where Fred lives.
Restaurants run their ads
Ash Wednesday through Good Friday.
Years ago brunch began at 11
for Catholics coming out of Mass.
Protestants arrived at noon or so
depending on the sermon.
Back then everyone dressed up
in Sunday suits and Easter bonnets.
Children had on brand new outfits.
But Fred says Easter Brunch this year
started at 9 and no dress code prevailed.
Church was not on everyone’s agenda.
The weather was sunny and nice.
Shorts and sandals sufficed.
Donal Mahoney
Trim slices of parma ham
Dressed in olive oil
Lollo blanco salad
Ciabatta bread
And eggs benedict-
A light lunch
Ciao !
A wasp invited me to brunch
Very naïve, I had no hunch
I thought a mimosa quite nice
So I didn’t even think twice
That I might be the wasper’s lunch.
I wore a flimsy silk zinger
No protection from his stinger
What was I thinking, after all,
That bee displayed plenty of gall
I knew enough not to linger.
Just my luck, I got distracted
When wasp, his stinger, impacted
Leaving a welt across my arm
At first, I thought no great alarm
My blood he blithely extracted.
How could I have been so stupid
Without batting of my eyelid
I agreed to brunch with a wasp
Without considering the cost?
Next time I’ll get a second bid!
SIXTH PLACE WINNER
Written June 7, 2022
Entered "Tall Tales 3 Quintilla Fantasy Fiction" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Jeff Kyser
I’m not sure but I have a hunch
That people indulging in brunch
Wake up pretty late
So think it is great
To eat breakfast when I would eat lunch.
By giving a fancyish name
Those late-risers think they can claim
That their honest intent
Is for time to be spent
Making breakfast and lunch seem the same.
There are crossovers, I will admit
And both meals are considered legit
But we early birds need
For our day to proceed
Morning rations or throats will be slit.
Here Lies Mae Brunch
Here lies fat Mae Brunch
Never late for lunch
A spinster for life
Did she get her ticket punched?
An Epitaph for a laugh 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Jesse Rowe
April 14, 2019