Best Cabbage Poems
A Turnip and a Cabbage
are walking down the street.
This may seem a might peculiar
as they hadn't any feet.
Before you judge and criticize,
I beg your minds to wander.
To take a moment just to see
on what the herbage ponders.
The Cabbage says, 'The sun is out,
it makes a lovely day.
It is nice to see the other Plants
we meet along the way.'
The Turnip nods approvingly,
the Cabbage is his chum.
For every day they walk this way...
they both begin to hum.
There are no words, no songs they know,
they no not how to sing.
But they cannot miss what they do not know
so no sadness does it bring.
They leave the street and find a trail
leading to a brook.
Where they find a tree, a friend of theirs...
looking at a book.
'What do you have?' The Turnip says
with interest in his voice.
'Something bad, you should not see...
I leave it to your choice.'
Tree hands the book, which Turnip takes
while Cabbage jumps to see.
They flip the pages, both in awe,
they gasp and ask the tree.
'Where did you get this?' Such a story,
we do not believe our eyes.
What Plant would write of such a state?
It surely must be lies.'
The tree responds, 'These sad affairs
happened long ago.
By a species less developed
with little wisdom to bestow.
They were unkind... some cruel and dark,
always out for more.
They hated all... were prone to cheat,
they invented a thing called War.
They fought tooth and nail for shiny objects,
over which they fussed.
Destroyed themselves... their culture gone,
a victim to their lust.'
The Cabbage and the Turnip
let out a cushioned sigh.
But Turnip strains, 'I am still confused.
What does the book imply?'
Tree thinks a bit, 'It was Nature's way
to cleanse our treasured Earth.
To fight disease and cure infection...
saving only things of worth.'
So to those of you who doubt this tale,
forgive my little rant.
But take from this most people lack...
the brains God gave a Plant.
The End
*Follow my cartoon at Webtoon Bob's Your Uncle.
Corned beef and cabbage is a favorite of mine.
This is a humble meal that tastes great.
To have it, I will gladly wait in line.
Boiled potatoes and carrots added are fine.
As I see it cooking, I can hardly wait.
Corned beef and cabbage is a favorite of mine.
Beer goes well with it, or possible light red wine.
I am too hungry to have dinner at eight.
To have it, I will gladly wait in line.
Most Irish people consider this dish divine.
Serve it right up to me on a plate.
Corned beef and cabbage is a favorite of mine.
Wherever it is served, please hold up a sign.
Dish it out and please don’t hesitate.
To have it, I will gladly wait in line.
While barley grows in the field, and grapes on the vine,
Irish people serve it in every county and state.
Corned beef and cabbage is a favorite of mine.
To have it, I will gladly wait in line.
For Julie-Michelle's Enter the Rhyme Battle Part 4 contest
Cabbage rolls wrapped in green leaves
ground hamburger cooked
add chopped onions and the rice
mix together-roll
ingredients tight
roll in leaf
eat.
Cabbage cabbage cabbage
it seems to have become a habit
Whenever I go for a meal
At someone's house
They must think that I'm a rabbit.!
I sure hate the stuff
It takes ages to chew
And like eating carpet
It's tough..
Then they ask
''is everything alright''
As I'm holding my bum cheeks tight
To hide my embarrassment
Shoving so much cabbage
Down someone's throat
Should be classed as harassment
And an't no joke..
When no one's looking
I shove it down my pants
That leaves a stain
Hard to explain.
Eating cabbage is such a choir
Unless your a rabbit
Just as you can't take no more
They give you more
And I force a smile.
You leave with sore gums
Sore bum
You ignore each invite when they come
Or make an excuse
At last I can let the methane loose..
perhaps my girlfriends mothers didn't like me after all.
Peter Dome. Copyright. 2017.
Cabbage Patch Kids Of North Korea
Most N. Koreans go to camp, Camp 22
365 days a year they stay
Eat 1 head of cabbage every day forever
They don’t need sun or play they say
Work occupies them
Children turn in their parents for some bread
Watch them tortured
When they die the children cry with joy
Wish they had more parents to sacrifice
To glorify the state for food
Cabbage is delicious with government approval
All children born in Camp 22 are killed at once
I guess you could say that is not very nice or much fun
But cabbage patch kids who do survive
Are permitted to eat a kernel of corn
From cow manure and work inside till they die
No less no more
It is a game of attrition not nutrition
But who are we to criticize
Camp 22 will survive
Gone in the sty with a carriage frown, gone to the sty with a cabbage crown. Don't climb down the elevator go up the escalator. And mind your head on the wiry mixture above for conglomerations of conga eel cables can twist and turn at a huge rate so always keep head in a hat, a colander or a pair of socks wrapped around then tied in a bow. But a plaited and pleated plant can be used as a fine carousel and carousals are neither carefully caressing creatures nor are they creme de brule. It is the mild wind that breezes in through a window and sits down to a plate of fine dining. And it is the chef in the checkered hat that deliver a bath tub filled with calamari to a seafood supper. Ok then. Great. Now lets go sit immediately on the picnic rug. Ha x z and developmental z
The tattered Cabbage Rose peeled
Elegant décor of decades past, the wallpaper offered
only a hint of its former beauty
Its faded pinks and murky greens belied
the glorious blush of its zenith
As I stared from the perch of my uneven mattress,
I pondered the old Chester Inn
I thought about the lives it had touched
and I could almost hear the chatter of children
readying a day at the beach
or the clinking of crystal, a romantic toast
Its halls, still dressed in gray sculptured carpet,
told their story too, carried along on a musty
seaside breeze
An early twentieth century relic, the Inn was
bidding farewell, no longer able to compete
in a modern world
Its dated charm lost on new generations
As I considered that waning Cabbage Rose,
I contemplated the course of life for us all,
its cycles, its sequels
and as I drew my last sigh of crisp, salty air,
I said goodbye to room fourteen
coronary vessels feed our hearts
blood pumped bright red circulate from
our delicate hearts nourishing the tiny cells
blood flows like a river undisturbed branching
like a monstrous tree rebranching into twigs leading
to leaves and life is a beautiful flow of love
when your heart breaks you are despondent
cry and re cry drink and vomit time heals you hardly die
a clot of blood tiny thrown in the vessels
your flow is lost you could die instantly or live
another life your destiny they call it coronary
they might lyse the ache in your heart lytics
wire and balloon your collapsing vessels in the lab
or even bypass or detour your damaged vessels
needlessly a lot of times and call it cabbage
Thou, Minos, know I’m weary of all things,
Of wars and deaths and cabbages and kings.
I wield that battered shield that is the sky,
And with my strength protect what ‘neath doth lie:
But what when Earth itself would wish to die?
Let us
Lettuce
Rancid
Salad
Savage
Cabbage
Digest
Regress
Stomach
Toxic
Corn beef
Raw meats
Pepto-
Bismal™
12/16/20
written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2020
Lonely is the smell of cabbage boiling
flooding the house
I open the windows
To share its aroma with the neighbors
Kitchen
Mission
Savage
Cabbage
Digest
Regress
Stomach
Toxic
Pepto-
Bismal™
12/16/20
written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2020
Leaves of cabbage themselves
got its name for they covered with
leaf is not named so
Stuffed cabbage rolls waft thru the house
old memories slip in and out,
Babcia i dziadek would be proud
and Busia and Cioci would be too.
A head of kapusta to Golumpki formed
the cousine curiosity so tasty and delicious reborn,
give me a kiss upon my forehead then eat
Dai Mi Buzi and smile, jesc, the surprising gastronomique.
I’ve nothing
positive to say today
Just different scenarios
In a vacant approach
Calling me to come home
I was left wandering
In the dark alone
The objective
To ease the hurt
Take away a curse
For days that we play
Reach for new heights
In a vulnerable scene
Tip toe on mercy
To avoid
the split in my spleen
In love with a phantom
Hidden behind a spotted face
Out for the souls of grown men
Those who have plotted
Against a broken race
Misplaced pigment cells
Only the pig in men sells
Walking on childhood misery
Adolescent years swayed
Mentally weighed
Prohibited the belief
Of a murdered messiah
Don’t you be so careful
As to let it hypnotize you
He who believes in thee
Can only be a liar
Shall I live
Then death to all rivals
No apologies
Its just the pledge of survival
The Quran
Your mischievous bible
I hold these latter-day saints
Equally liable
And if it gets no better
Love always
As her emotions led her
An old man as spoken for
Casualties of sympathy
Hoping for a cure
One old woman and ten dollars
Spent thanksgiving day
Hoping for a ham and a cabbage
But we savages in this ravaged land
Think nothing of her
But you got to love her
Reach out with your cold arms
And hug her
Rub the hurt
To keep her above the dirt
“Yes we can”
Do what?
Nothing again
I write for life
I write for birth
I write for you
For what it’s worth
I can’t stretch my intelligence enough
To write for peace on earth