Best Chips Poems
It CAN be ‘fish n chips’ stop carping on, there’s no plaice for rudeness!
It's so sad to see a person out of their depths and just floundering
Why is it that some people always think they're right - for the halibut!
What a load of pollocks! Oh my cod she’s crabby … Salmon call a doctor!
I'd order fries with my fish - but I'd get hooked for not calling them chips!
I've had a whale of a time casting out the bait with these fishy puns!
Stop those fishcious lines ...no debait, 'Halibut poem' is fintastic!
It’s shellfish fishing for compliments, but I write a good monoku!
Jaws bulging, saliva drooling
Johhnie stood at the street corner
Digging furiously into his soggy bag
Large fleshy chips swimming in vinegar
Delighting his watering mouth.
Rain drizzling on his tired body
Johhnie momentarily oblivious to all,
His tedious life, his electricity bill,
His sick terrier, his drenched overcoat
And even his foul tempered wife
Who he could hear re-echoing
High cholesterol, high cholesterol, cholesterol..
For one ten minute period
He allowed himself the indulgence
That surpasses all on a hungry day
A good feed from the local chipper.
As he licked each finger one by one
Johhnie exuded a great contentment.
Retracing his steps, he shook the wet from his cap
And returned to the shop for a jumbo sausage.
From life to vivaciousness
wood chips will nourish with nutrients' fix.
Ah... whiffs of fresh pine sift as temperature rises,
steam swirling from this pile higher than I.
Should I climb upon it and slide down,
I could drown in the sweet smelling heat.
Woodland bits would grip garments like embellishments,
pokes groping my skin as I whimsically wince,
pinecone punctures perceived as pleasures.
My hair would wear the wilderness afresh,
twigs twirling between tresses to rest.
With sought satisfaction of childhood carelessness,
hugging trees' sacrificial splendor,
I plunge in and spin.
2/29/2020
Oh, What A Piddily Day
I Whittled It Away
On Some Unnecessary Chips
On My Shoulders
& In My Dips ...
Written & Copyrighted ©: 9/12/2013
by: MoonBee Canady
I sit and I sit and I sit again,
Wondering why my neck hurts
And my body is losing her elasticity.
Eating brownies for fuel, knowing I am killing myself
Softly, and in a luxuriously relaxing way.
The brownies are gone, but I am not satisfied,
So I reach for the potato chips.
They are salty and crunchy
And help me swallow the
Sweet of the brownies.
I am in one of those hey, let’s not
Do-anything-today-days.
I would go to the store and
Get more chips, but I am
Out of steam,
Sitting
Just
Sitting
Hurting
No one
But
Me
Fish and Chips
Swimming in a sea of ketchup and vinegar
By Jan Allison
Contest Food and our memory connections
Sponsor Andrea Dietrich
11~06~15
Life could be better, but easily worse.
Sometimes I feel blessed; other times cursed.
As I get older, I look back and see—
Life’s mostly better when you are with me
Together we’re like…
Chips and salsa, with some cilantro inside (Kinda spicy).
Yeah, like chips and salsa, with guacamole one the side (Kinda feisty).
We go together, obviously. I hope, forever, that you’ll stay with me.
We’re like chips and salsa, jalapenos on the side.
Sometimes we argue, but don’t really fight.
I know you love me, so it’s all right.
You know I love you, so it’s plain to see
Life’s clearly better when you are with me
Together we’re like…
Chips and salsa, with some cilantro inside (Kinda spicy).
Yeah, like chips and salsa, with guacamole one the side (Kinda feisty).
We go together, obviously. I hope, forever, that you’ll stay with me.
We’re like chips and salsa, jalapenos on the side.
I’m movin’ forward, but keep lookin’ back.
Anything missing? Anything lack.
With hindsight vision, I look back and see--
Life’s always better when you are with me.
Together we’re like…
Chips and salsa, with some cilantro inside (Kinda spicy).
Yeah, like chips and salsa, with guacamole one the side (Kinda feisty).
We go together, obviously. I hope, forever, that you’ll stay with me.
We’re like chips and salsa, jalapenos on the side.
Fish and Chips with salt and vinegar make my mouth water.
Mushy peas---slice of buttered bread, and I’m in heaven.
Gobbling chirpy chips and fresh fried fish---a relish of gooey batter.
Green peas make my heart flutter as I stutter in culinary haven.
In Yorkshire in a fish and chip shop, I found my addiction
To that savoury delight, which fills my belly with greasy loveliness.
That plate gives me endless joy in my affliction.
All anxieties dissolve midst jurisprudence and law's dizziness.
Chips and Salsa (22 Feb 2019)
Life could be better, but easily worse.
Sometimes I feel blessed, other times cursed.
As I get older, I look back and see—
Life’s mostly better, when you are with me.
Sometimes we argue, but don’t really fight.
I know you love me, so it’s all right.
You know I love you, so it’s plain to see--
Life’s clearly better when you are with me.
If you should leave me, don’t know what I’d do.
My life’s completely invested in you.
I’ve gotta keep you, wherever I go
Life’s surely better together, you know.
I’m moving forward, but keep looking back.
Anything missing? Anything lack?
With hindsight vision, I look back and see,
Life’s been always better when you were with me.
We’re like chips and salsa, with some cilantro inside (kinda feisty).
We’re like chips and salsa – with jalapenos inside (kinda spicy).
We go together, obviously; I hope, forever, that you’ll stay with me.
We’re like chips and salsa, with guacamole one the side (really tasty).
My mom left me home alone
With nothing there to eat
So I took the bag of Lays Potato Chips
And decided to take a seat.
I wasn't too hungry,
I had just eaten cake
But this was an opportunity
I had to take.
I ate until my stomach hurt.
Everything grew tight, including my shirt.
The bag was empty, finally
But there was something wrong
I was still hungry!
Pringles with presentation in flavor
The chip itself is something to sliver
One bite and you know the taste is fresh
We look and you know you need to buy
All it takes is one try
The crispness being at its best
Other potato chip competitors in their contest
Lays with no one can just one
Wise got you in their eye
Utz we got you covered
But neither one can explain why
The Pringles P being perfection
The consumer being the indication
You will agree yourself
There is no comparison with anybody else
The goodness with the man with the beard
Pringles with how your taste will preserver
It’s the crunch on yes and the flavor that says it best.
What can make the heart grow fond
I'll give you the tip
Nothing can satisfy your taste
Like Scottish Steak and chips.
Juicy highland cattle steaks will
melt just past your lips
feeding well the hungry soul
That's Scottish steak and chips.
What can put some fat on you
on your frame and hips
you'll never ever fade away
With Scottish steak and chips.
There's no food in this modern world
whether haggis, burgers or fish
that can match the beauty and taste
of Scottish steak and chips.
TV chefs seem unawares
and seem so ill equipped
of talent, skill and feel required
to cook Scottish steak and chips.
No need to be serious
Always poems to make you think
Need a bit of humour
Eating Scottish steak and chips.
When grandchildren ask about the nation's dish
"is it haggis or whisky nips ?"
I'll lean back in my rockin' chair
eating Scottish Steak and chips.
Ode To Fish And Chips
So hard to resist if you wanted to try
Fantasies started hours before build to a climax
No one knows but everyone realizes what is to come
Their scent more powerful than any other
It is a power that could never be ignored
Senses expand to take in every experience
Waves of nearly orgasmic energy flows through every cell
Not a word is spoken in expectation of what is to come
Everyone knows and everyone impatiently waits
The sounds of crackling and splashing
Sounds that perk even the worst of imaginations
The heat emitted warms the hearts of young and old
Yet, with that it is the sme lls that drive humans crazy with desire
Suddenly, the ancient wooden doors open
The people push and claw to be the closet to their desire
A smell, a taste, even a look is all they desire
A hand reaches out and, for one person, their life is fulfilled
A bite of their fish and chips
The ones from the small pub prove that the fantasies were true
There is a food of the gods and it is in a small British pub
Down an alley and behind and ancient door
The dream continues
Is life all that and a bag of chips?
It is if He is the One who gives it to you
He can change your moods in an instant
It's like the weather
Come back in an hour
It may be sunny then lol
Do you believe things can stay constant?
Yeah
If He says so
And it depends on what you meant "constant"
If you meant "constant" as in not change
Then it's a no can't do
If you meant "constant" as in always right with God
Then it's a doable one
But God has to be the one who gives it to you
You can't have anything if He does not say, allowed
I have to constantly ask God for things
Do I just think of it
Or God puts that in me?
I believe that God directs your steps
You can be right or you can be wrong
But if you walk in the spirit
You will know your way - His way
I talk too much already
All that means nothing
if He does not give it to you
Oh yeah
Everything
An Englishman, just new in town
Walked the streets until he found
An older man sitting down
fishing from a puddle
His back against the old pub wall
His old suit seemed, a size to small
Wrapped up in a raggedy shawl
His arms and legs in a huddle
It was a most pathetic and saddened state
The Englishman felt, he just couldn't wait
Lifted him up, and said, "Come on mate"
I'm going to buy us a bottle"
The old man warm and sitting down
As the English poured another round
He hardly uttered a single sound
But smiled like he was in heaven
The Englishman, now in a humorous state
Thought, Puddle Fishing is a curious 'Fate'
and because the time, was getting late
Said "I must get back to Devon"
So, the English, in his humorous way
Just asked the man to see what he'd say
"How many did you catch today ?"
"With you", he said ,"makes seven"