Best Chomping Poems
I have been called a sex god
It has been said that
I radiate an aura of pure sexuality
I stopped telling my friends stories of my exploits years ago
Because they don't believe me
For instance
My last lover was a 54 year old paraplegic actress
I once gave a girl dozens of orgasms within a single minute
And can reproduce this feat at any time on any woman
Every inch of my body is fantastic
Like a machine fine-tuned for sexual pleasure
My sex drive is monstrous
Unending
Makes me crazy
I only stop to smoke cigarettes once every few hours
And I don't have a refractory period
All this is true
I'm probably a nymphomaniac
But it doesn't matter
Because I hate people
Because I hate dating
Because I have nothing to prove
Because the cosmos are indifferent
Because economizing sex disgusts me
I'm generally quiet
Try to keep a low profile
But inside
a Martian sex dragon
Breathing passion and lust
Inside
Roaring madly alone, tortured
Clawing at my skin
Chomping on my bones
Gnashing on my brain like a chew toy
I pretend not to care
I like to think it doesn't have an affect on me
But it is me
And I hate it
And I love it
While attending a social do
You meet and greet others
It’s more a social norm
Than any ‘real’ connect
As you attend to calls
Or get yourself updated with ‘Updates’
Or simply fiddle with your phone
And mind you
You are not alone
Almost everyone is doing the same
Some listless bites of conversation
While chomping on the fare
And it’s time to take leave
But ironically
The same social do
Which you had so perfunctorily attended
Finds the pride of place
On social sites
And horror of horrors
You too find yourself
Engaged in mindless chatter
With the very same crowd
You didn’t much involve yourself with
Just a couple of hours before
In that crowded venue
The story is the same
Whether you are with friends, family or neighbours
The present moments are sacrificed
With ‘smart’ phones smartly severing you
From your surroundings
Ironically when face to face
No one has much to say
But there’s frenzied socialization
Every day
In the ‘virtual’ world
Leading to tch, tch
A 24/7 disconnect in the ‘real’ world.
Surfing through social media
it's a wave coming atcha in speedia,
forward motion becoming a blur
clickity clack there is no cure
scrolling fast, getting motion sick,
oh look another cute cat pic
it's a cheap click, a blue like
thumbs up like hitch hike
blazing fast again on the highway,
there's some ads flying our way,
like billboards on the roadside,
x them away, they don't hide,
now it's a bumpy ride,
what is up with that chic, no pride,
blindsided by that news story,
click on the link and it's gory,
not what the story was suppose to be
another cheap click got to me.
smiles turn to frowns then laughter
the two cents everyone is after
every emotion in a powerful punch
let's check on that link after lunch
like pacman chomping the bits
youtube video has how many hits
does that make its content true
this looks like something I could do
cooking up a steak on truck hood,
yum yum that meat looks good
seeing a clip from mythbusters busted
guess not ...I got husted,
didnt' work, ain't going to,... why post
a cheap click from an eager host
can't tell truth from fictionary
dang, this internet world is scary
anyone can make up anything you see,
just look at my post, half the words arent in the dictionary
but that is alright cause it's online,
heck ya ain't even know if these words are mine
but i got ya now with a cheap click
keep on clicking cause something will stick
How to describe the color of love? Might you frown in surprise if I spoke of brown? Dull, pockmarked, ocherous brown.
A tarmac of grain, stained the color of earth, that never saw rain.
One humble old table, from an oak that would fall. Who could have known the
moments recalled?
Just a scarred weathered plank, with a warp in the middle. Blight she would hide with a bright checkered cloth. Those who would sit, night after night, greeting with eyes, meeting with ears,... filling the gaps with laughter and tears
Decades were spent, over string beans, and potatoes, bridging the gap of a mid-day mishap, a chat after school, or a new family rule.
Resurrecting a family, at the end of the day, while chomping away on unidentifiable casseroles, that filled the belly, as well as the soul.
Consuming wisdom and noodles, in the comfort of home.
Who would have noticed this shabby antique, wearing wax from Crayolas, white coffee cup rings. Ink spots, and dings. And three winking holes made by father's misdeed!
(His picture-frame project, misjudging the nails! Three slender digits pierced in without fail! Hammered tight, to the top. While mother's shot through the roof!
Who could have ever guessed that a well-worn, weathered old piece of grainy brown oak could be the glorious color of love?
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Fire breathing, ash streaming dragons stomping,
Across the landscape are ruthlessly romping;
Clanging, banging, with metal feet shodden,
Bushes and plants slash, flowers downtrodden.
Across the landscape are ruthlessly romping;
Iron beasts with jaws and tails heavily clomping,
Bushes and plants slash, flowers downtrodden,
Until clay into red mud is smashed and sodden!
Iron beasts with jaws and tails heavily clomping,
Great ditches riven with incessant chomping,
Until clay into red mud is smashed and sodden,
These monsters make way for all things modern.
Great ditches riven with incessant chomping,
Clanging, banging, with metal feet shodden,
These monsters make way for all things modern:
Fire breathing, ash streaming dragons stomping!
One day while fishing Noah feels a tug upon his rod,
“I think I’ve caught a fish!” he yells, “Please, let it be a cod!”
He pulls his rod and reels his line to see what’s on the hook.
Then leans towards the sea so he can get a better look.
With wild excitement Noah peers to see what’s in the sea,
Then drops his tackle with a start, and turns around to flee.
The biggest shark that Noah’s ever seen is on the line,
It’s thrashing, pulling, chomping, chewing hard on Noah’s twine.
“Hey! You up there, how dare you! What on earth d’you think you’re doing?
Let me go at once or I promise you, this day you will be ruing!
I’ll beat you soundly; hard enough your eyes will soon be popping.
Now let me go so I can swim and get back to my shopping."
“Sharks don’t shop!” said Noah, “you just swim around and fight.
And when I’m swimming with my friends you give us all a fright.
We’re scared and try to run away but you guys bite our legs,"
Says the shark "I'm shopping, honestly. Look, here's a dozen eggs.
And here's a nice new dress I found. I think it will look nice
With these red boots from Dover Soles. I bought them at half price.
What about this perfume? Take a sniff it's Chanel 5.
Do you like it? Try some on your wrist. It makes me feel alive!"
So Noah holds his arm out to receive a squirt of scent.
And the shark bites through his elbow just right where his arm is bent.
"You rotter!" Noah screams, "you ate my arm, oh why, oh why?"
"All that shopping made me hungry" says the shark, "so long, goodbye!"
Sausage and custard and ice cream with mustard
Chocolate coated Kentucky Fried Bustard
Whipped cream with mushrooms or frogspawn on toast
These are the foods that an ogre likes most
Volcanic craters and baths full of gators
A pantry thats choc full of gagged and bound waiters
sleeping on bones in a pterosaurs nest
These are the places an ogre likes best
Eyeballs and elbows, the odd severed nose
Ankles and legs and a number of toes
Earlobes and kidneys and hearts to dissect
Things that an ogre just loves to collect
Teeth that are bleeding and eyes that are red
Skin like the skin of somebody that’s dead
One missing ear and a hole in the throat
And chomping raw meat from the leg of a goat
So now that you have him laid clear in your head
The image you see is of someone to dread
For sometimes the truth is a pain in the neck
And ogres in real life are nothing like Shrek
He blew in on a snowflake
One cold December Christmas week
His small dark eyes are deep
Inside his snowy little face
He is fast and furious
Chomping at the world
He is a bundle of joy
In the winter of my sorrow
MY FIVE SENSES
In my fifties I disavow the taste
but back in elementary school
the image would drift into daydreams —
pork kidneys with savory gravy
went well with the pucker of dills.
The fleabag oil of dog fur,
the weighted polish on nails,
and the brush of bangs on my forehead —
equally threatening.
Honeysuckle to a virgin’s pulse points,
like the aroma of heaven. Lavender seeds
sewn into a sachet. A long sniff,
the bag pressed to the tip of my nose.
My patrons walk into the library, eyes wandering,
lips gripped tight in thought, but with a proper hello
the curvature of their lips in upswing, eyes meet mine
and for a scintilla of time our hearts touch. Likewise —
the smiling eyes of children virtually untouched by experience.
Background sound unsettling, loud sounds deafening,
chomping, chewing — I run! Yet the good conversation
of friends at the table, at work, on vacation — I hug.
My five senses not always sensible, surely sensitive,
and poetic fodder — even in the negative sense.
7/25/2018
My Five Senses
Sponsor: Viv Wigley
The God Reset
All Hail the mega-Temple brokers!
The Heavenly stock sellers
Chomping at the bit
Who parade in their Gucci suits
Escorting you comfortably
(like Kings)
Into “the Kingdom”come.
Beware:
Its a counterfeit kingdom
Not the real deal.
(Love money, much?
(Oh, but we won’t really actually tell you if we don't think you'd be a good “asset” in “our" Kingdom--)
They seem like they know something
You don’t know-- their words seem so godly,
Their knowledge of spiritual things so impressive-but then you hear them prognosticate:
“And did you know,
A ‘powerful message’ can be yours if you only throw
a few shekels our way today?”
(of course, they don’t exactly say it that way)
Coming straight from GD!
And advocate for a Kingdom that runs on cash.
They’ll happily seat you in
The First row,
Sell you a religious show,
Put the God mirror out in front
Of your sorry old face and sell
Repentance.
And then, when you repent, (properly and self-consciously)
they’ll grab you by the shoulders,
Hug you, and then ask you if you
Want to join the church...
“Looks like a Winner”, they silently intone, as you
Reach for your wallet.
Now they’ve sold you a
False Christ.
And you weren’t even in on the deal!
You thought you were sincere!
You didn’t sign up for a
Dead-end religion that would steal your
Joy, and maybe even your new-found love for GD-
You signed up for a
New Life.
Beware of the status-quo christians,
The little”c” christians
The walking dead,
Frozen Chosen
Lack of real emotion,
Preaching a gospel
Of “Cultural Churchianity”.
It’s not the real
thing-- the Christ-centered gospel that
Calls for a clean heart, and a
Clear conscience--
A gospel that has nothing to do with
The brand of your clothes, the number
Of dollars in your Bank Account,
The car in your garage, or the paid-off mortgage!
Wake up,
Heaven Brokers!
Your “stock” is rapidly falling,
And Christ is getting tired of calling
Cuz you hung up your gD- phone long ago,
When you let greed and fame
Consume your soul.
Yesterday the birthday girl,
Her rainbow tutu swishing,
Blew out (with brother's help) the candles
Lit for birthday wishing.
From playground, train and parachute,
The 4 year olds were romping
Until the time for pizza came,
With juice and lots of chomping.
Today the celebration was
Just slightly more subdued,
Though with stories told and mem'ries shared
With fun it was imbued.
The birthday girl, at 91,
Enjoyed a home-cooked meal,
Drank gin and tonics then blew out
Her candles with some zeal.
Two birthday bashes back to back
On both ends of life's arc,
Let me have a double helping
Of what such a day can spark.
now that Chavez is dead,
the american oil companies
chomping at the bit
begin to salivate & lick their lips,
seething
with the foam
of potent country-gutting
rabies---
for while he was alive,
Venezuela was one of the only
countries left,
who resisted the empire’s attempts to
penetrate it & whore it out to the
highest capitalist bidder---
with Chavez dead,
not only will the oil soon be drained from
within the borders of beautiful
Venezuela,
but so will die the social programs that Chavez
instilled,
those that had been used to combat the
extreme poverty which exists in the country,
those that the governments before Chavez did nothing to
prevent.
so goes Chavez,
so goes a bastion of anti-empire,
so goes a man who pushed Chomsky’s work at the
United Nations,
so goes a man who championed the bloc that
would resist the swallowing up of
Latin America by the
empire.
yes,
the vultures are hungry,
they are perched & ready---
rather than create green alternatives to the
reliance on oil,
they will suck every last drop &
make the world do their bidding,
creating a negative media firestorm
to shed hate upon a man who can no longer
defend himself,
just as they will the next who steps up to resist.
spawned in the summer of 1853
these sliced succulent deep fried wonders
resulted from the demands of a complaining customer
whose ******** led our man, a one,
mr. george crum
to do his best to satisfy the putz in question by
replacing the humdrum n’ waterlogged n’ sodden,
slithery,
pommes de terre
with
his
new
&
improved
(as thin as could possibly be imagined),
drenched in salt,
deep fried & sizzling,
immaculate conception.
and as you can imagine, mr. cornelius vanderbilt
(said unruly customer),
whom mr. crum felt would most assuredly send back the creation he just made,
again,
for his money back,
instead
had something of an ****** of the taste buds!
and so these
“saratoga chips”
came to be the next big thing---
satisfying lovers of starch, grease & salt, everywhere.
it didn’t take long for word to get to canada where they buried them things in
dill pickle,
ketchup,
jalapeño & cheddar,
salt n’ pepper,
roast chicken---or to
austria where they soak em’ in garlic, bulgaria, where paprika is the taste of the day—
& colombia boasts
mayonesa y limón,
egypt popularized the kebob & stuffed vine leave essence of zest,
you got oregano chips in greece
you got the overwhelming majority chomping down the tayto’s in ireland
whereas in
russia
it is caviar, crab and
shashlik
which make the people salivate.
regardless of where you are or what you are doing
you can get some kind of potato chip
yes,
you can suck down that sodium & grease
mmmmmmmm
i
myself
am currently in something of a sour cream n’ onion phase---
and i must say
i praise the day
that crum went back in the
kitchen
&
angrily
whipped up a batch of
yummyness
for
vandy
to
suck
down---
commencing
la revolución de patatas fritas.
What dark force wears the devil’s mark (666)
And bites those thrown off “Noah’s Ark”?
Dragging sweets through the mud
While chomping for blood...
A bully is like a white shark*
*Only white sharks have better table manners, and so in the tradition of Emily Post—the innocent eventually rise up and seek justice—and use knives (and forks and spoons)!
This poem was inspired by Laura Breidenthal's recent poem entitled "666".
cat, dog, food, humor, mom, pain, summer,
I tripped over feet
My shoe laces both came undone
Slid in my 'spilled' milk
Cut my finger on broke glass
My blood now was mixed in milk!
I sat on a chair
It was much too low for me
Table top held my chin
Knees folded I knelt down below
My neck got cramped looking up!
Taking a 'soap' soak
I washed my hair in 'suds' water
Forgot to rinse 'wash'
Let the bath drain of cold water
Had to take a shower too!
I bit my finger
A huge delicious apple
Choked on pieces bitten
And swallowed a broken tooth
It left an empty hole then!
Pits are wicked on teeth
Cherry pits the worse for wear
Three cherries at once
Eaten you choke on a pit
If swallowed you then will die!
Pepper makes a sneeze
Then coughing up of chewed food
Follows up the throat
Adding 'more' to the food plate
Appetite all lost!
Close your eyes and wish
Once upon a time like 'right' now
My mom told me so
Magic will make a wish come true
Then I learnt she fibs white lies!
Cats and dogs skip rope
Jumping around up and down
When the double-dutch stops
Cat and dog hair flies about
Then the fight is done double time!
Touring on my bike
I flipped ' head over heels' and rolled
Down grassy culverts below
Upon a stinking skunk hole
Startling the homeowners there!
Belly laugh causes much gas
That builds wind into a toot
Relieving more pain
Reaching a higher stink bomb
That calls more laughter!
My peaches are very ripe
I squeezed one to check them out
Grab'n napkins and bowl
When bitten into juices pour
Sliding stickily down my chin!
Corn on the cob needs
Melted butter and wood toothpicks
Small bits catch in teeth
Cob takes two hands for chomping
All the kernels in a row!
Shaved cabbage ' coleslaw'
Sliced hamburger buns with meat
Chopped onions with sauces
Causes gall bladder heartburn pain
Trapped gasses giving 'piglet' shame!