Best Chowing Poems
That’s not my elephant, this here’s Ella my wife
She claims the extra pounds came with her change of life
She now takes ballet, but watching her dance in tights
Sends chills down my spine and gives second graders frights
Her plate’s piled high with lasagna and spaghetti
Chowing down on our drive to the Serengeti
I think every husband should have a bill of rights
“Euthanasia,” I’ll plead, when they read her last rites
Let me tell you about a guy Pete.
If it’s true that we are what we eat,
he would just have to be
loved by everybody
because he would be something sweet!
On sweets Pete could never get full,
so he’d eat all his cakes and pies whole!
With each passing year
his widening rear
more resembled a large jelly roll.
With gusto Pete daily transgressed,
chowing down on desserts he liked best,
never giving one thought
to the things that he ought -
like that thing going wrong in his chest. . . .
It occurred after Pete had dug in
to some pastries, his favorite sin.
In his chair Pete had plopped
when his heart simply stopped -
But his jelly smeared mouth wore a grin!
For the "Die A 'Fun' Death Contest Poetry Contest"
hosted by Natalie the Rogue Rhymer
Memories of days gone by,
sitting at the old lunch counter
chowing down a patty melt
and a chocolate malted
with fries that were so fresh
and hot. Shopping there was
such a joy that found me there
on Saturday afternoon and many
times during the week also.
What a thrill walking up and down
those aisles searching oh, just searching
for things no longer with us, now they
can be found in a collectors shop,
for prices much higher than we paid
many years ago.
Woolworth's why did you leave us?
Your store was such a pleasure to
visit and to just spend some time with
friends and family. Christmas shopping
was done there each year and now you're gone.
Why, oh why did you leave us?
Written 7-10-11
Been chowing down Post Shredded Wheat
Since I was a young lad it's oh so sweet
Probably an acre by now
Milk from Bessie the cow
This breakfast supreme simply can't be beat
© Jack Ellison 2015
1.
Calm descends,
feathery, misty, settling gently on this city’s breath.
Elusive sleep,
teases,
hiding amongst the clouds,
while silver ribbons of moonlight, caress the concrete.
2.
Midnight in Jo’burg,
alone, in this wild-eyed, crazy city,
warm and cruel at once,
ragged, torn, sublime,
brimming with African life,
alive in an African summer night.
3.
Zimbabwe, you are us,
Morocco is infused in our veins,
Nigeria lingers on our wet kisses,
Malawi, we are you.
4.
A continental mosaic,
the smells of Cairo,
and sounds of Dakar,
soaked in tastes of Addis,
mingle on my city’s streets.
5.
We are all, African.
‘They’ are not the other,
we are ‘them’, tossed in a communal pot,
sipping mampoer*,
and chowing pap and vleis*,
in my city,
my Jozi**,
your Jo’burg**,
our eGoli**
_____
* – a home-brewed drink, and a maize-meal porridge and meat.
** – all names refer to Johannesburg.
A plate of deep-fried chicken,
Slaw and greens and ice-cold beer
Did provide the perfect harmony
For what we came to hear.
When the blues is on the menu,
Southern fare is de rigueur
And the biscuits, honey-buttered,
Only added to the lure.
While the saxophone was wailing
And guitar strings nimbly picked,
We were chowing down on vittles,
Fingers prim and proper licked.
The proprietor was clever
In the name that he did choose
For we savored every moment
Of the biscuits and the blues.
"Biscuits and Blues" is a blues club in San Francisco
Are through the roof!
We can always eat cat or
dog food!
Meow, meow! Woof, woof!
Add spices, salsa and noodles.
The whole, yummy kit and kaboodle.
~I hereby name it~
…Socialist Spam Stroodle……
At least we had our glorious puncture.
Chowing down now...at Fauci Juncture!
10/15/2021
Will post tomorrow ??
Noon meal at the nursing home
and everyone is there
chowing down and talking.
Before dessert is served there’s
an announcement to be made
and Maxine is the one to do it
from somewhere in the room.
But few can see her since she’s tiny
just turned 90 and cannot stand.
She’s been doing this for years
and once she starts talking even
the deaf believe they hear.
She's their Aretha when she booms
“Let’s be in the day room, folks, at 3.
It’s our flu shot time of year."
Donal Mahoney
Buffalo wings, buffalo wings, buffalo wings
when I was young, just a boy
the skies overflowed with flying buffalo.
Take shelter for if you looked up
splat on your face from a buffalo butt
Now the poor creatures grounded for we clip their wings
deep fried and tasty sauces they are a favorite food thing
Herds of buffalo floating in the sky
kids waving at them as they mozy by
Peaceful and plentiful wouldn't hurt a fly
but sad for them their wings we fried
Poor buffaloes on foot they must roam
no longer in the air can they call home
Buffalo hunting a dangerous sport indeed
shot from the sky hunters squashed for their deed
O poor bison how now life must stink
hunted for their wings on the brink of extinct
So when chowing down on their tasty wings
watching sports with friends gathering
Why is the taste not what your expecting
cause buffalo wings taste just like chicken.
Not much about Goldilocks is really well known,
Except she liked to hang out in the woods all alone.
Of other customs and habits we have just a splintering:
She was whiney, persnickety,
And obviously skillful at breaking and entering.
No deadbolt or burglar alarm could defy her.
A common criminal, then, is how history should try her.
The three bears, that morning, had gone outside to forage
For sweet berries and nuts they could add to their porridge.
On returning, they found this young girl in their bed,
And their first misconception was that she was dead.
Since she also was human, they were somewhat afraid,
But after looking around at the mess she had made,
They debated the question of how they should treat her,
Then took a quick family vote and opted to eat her.
Now, bears are opportunistic, don't adhere to the letter,
And when it comes to cuisine, "haute's"* not necessarily better.
These three had had Muslim, a Mormon, a Christian, a Jew,
And a Tibetan monk, just to mention a few.
But they couldn't care less for religious perversity,
When it came to free food, they were all for diversity.
What they weren't quite sure of was how this one they'd render,
Or was she naturally tender because of her gender?
So heed this warning all squatters, all beakers and enterers,
Before invading the space of homeowners or renterers.
Beware lest your miscreant action finagles a sad end,
Like our heroine,
Who never dreamed, I'll be bound,
She would ever be found with three bears chowing down,
Complementing their porridge with Goldilocks and bagels.
*As in "haute cuisine" (pronounced "oat kwee-zeen"), French for "fine dining".
Crisp day snow crunching as I walk
Rosy cheeks, from the air that bites
Flakes of snow, flying like kites
I am busy here, no time to talk.
Little red squirrel nestling in the pines
Silence around except for the crunching snow
Burdened branches that are straining, lay low
Winters snowfall can be solemn at times.
Things look different with a blanket on top
Although the sights have been seen before
Everything looks magnified, right done to the core
Mounds of snow on roofs, icicles starting to drop.
Found some tracks amongst the trees
Mother deer and her small doe,
They weren’t bothered, snow on their nose
Standing in snow drifts up to their knees.
Two cardinals perching, happy to be together
Snowy owl hoots from a broken down fence
Starring at me, trying to make some sense
Why I’m out here in this kind of weather.
I brought some food for my winter friends
It serves me well to know they are contented
Happy with what has been presented
They get the message that it sends.
Chowing down some seeds, that I laid out
Little do they know they’ll be fed tomorrow,
Seeing them cold and hungry, brings sorrow
They’ll are well cared for no doubt.
Little bird houses all trimmed and hung
Each with their own window and door,
And some straw blankets the floor
Time to give back for the songs they sung.
Fell out of bed upon my head
After dreaming I snapped this thread
Sorrow whispers filled me with dread
As I pondered what lied ahead
Stubbed my toe on a soul laid low
His wounded tale filled me with woe
Such remote hopes dashed long ago
The mountaineer climbed a plateau
Could not command my quaking hand
Raging from that pineal gland
Toiling through such mortal demand
So my liver could turn to sand
I spied a flea chowing foul brie
These perked insects still torture me
His scissor mouth tossed up a plea
Begging for some Omega-3
Blood spurted out from the sink spout
Surely there's no pathogen drought
Orders of saints began to shout
Till my bathroom was deemed devout
Fire and turmoil sparked up to broil
As my kitchen became the foil
That cursed stove offered boiling oil
While all the food began to spoil
Locusts and bees prepared a squeeze
Hoping to plant me on my knees
While they consumed fodder with ease
Their hairy legs proffered disease
Brats from the crown gathered around
To point fat fingers towards the ground
Corruption scrambled to surround
Yet quests for truth shoved most profound
That dreary day begged me to slay
To make those ancients start to pay
For tearing down this brave hideaway
And quashing our civil foray
You served as mage to quell my rage
Urging my logic to engage
The loyal keeper with his cage
So the fresh page can guide as sage
Since advent of *****sapiens
objection overruled against immortality
all across millenniums humans
generated, amplified, and
idly reverberated (Billy me) rebel yell,
when finality 'twixt consciousness
eternal existence doth die as well
grievous news laudable hospice staff did tell
us (meaning yours truly plus
his deux darling siblings), I
in addition to older and younger sister,
thru passionate love making
intercourse did propel
seeds of life embarking
upon parent trap role
til sands of time did runneth out, and
for whom (him) the death knell
bell tolled, now funereal shroud covers dell.
Born April 9th, 1929 - Hebrew
ancestry papa never witnessed affection,
whereby his father - a liberal Jew
(mine paternal grandfather)
purportedly gave nary a blues clue
about welfare regarding youngest son
christened Boyce Brandon Harris,
who harbored quashed feelings
glommed like figurative ague
nsync with chowing down
into his esophageal flue
peristalsis allowing, enabling,
and providing gurgling goo
gull faintly sounding
to (my lard) Doctor Seuss
eerily similar to Horton hears a hoo
after milk (deciduous) teeth
gave way to papa's adult choppers
(by George), whereby
he could thoroughly chew
heavily saturated high caloric ethnic cuisine
(albeit American, Chinese,
and eats of ethnic Jew),
which high cholesterol comestibles
probably contributed to congestive heart failure,
now plaguing papa on his deathbed - loo
zing his tenuous grip on life,
where rigor mortis will find his body
chilled courtesy cold storage queue.
I feel sad today (September 29th, 2020)
and inconsolably weep,
cuz the man who helped beget me
after coroner pronounces
lovely bones lifeless heap
immediate fate most likely cremated
versus buried six feet deep
despite absence of his presence
cherished memories of his value,
yours truly will keep
plus recalling mine boyhood
chuck of full of bliss
particularly driving, fending, staving... off
bogeyman or any other menacing creep.
Been chowing down on Mini Wheat
Since I was a young lad it's oh so sweet
Probably an acre by now
Milk from Bessie the cow
This breakfast supreme simply can't be beat
would conveniently scare bejesus
among any hooligan tween
ready and willing to cause mischief
while prowling for methamphetamine,
or other drug of choice
one motley crew member seen
dodging, evading, fording... police
eventually cornered unlike Steve McQueen
(the late actor), who escapes behind screen
of smoke unscathed unlike
formerly acquitted, alluded mean
and aforementioned hoodlum
who suffers gunshot wound
rushed to same hospital
lay disabled fugitive ruffian took lead
fired into buttucks bullet punctured
evident by derriere oozing bloodshed
as self, both us nearly dead,
asthma doppelganger wed
did in sweat upon abdomen,
now aching pain in ass spread red
hot poker radiating throbbing inside
excruciating did quickly thread
into noggin i.e. fifty shades red
dully permeated gray matter
inducing severe agony with head,
though mustered energy to scrawl
obituary envisioning said
on same page as op/ed
gallows humor sought instead
of relief courtesy synthesized drug,
thus laughter as best medicine
linkedin chowing down unsuspected bean
dish licked plate sparkling clean
mental note made to avoid
eating flatulence inducing food
prepared Das daring "frau" faux Queen,
though I certainly also enjoy keen
wah filling up growling hungry void,
and... appealing to this bonafide android
gluten free textured meals direction I lean.