Best Dining Poems
We’re monopolized by the Saran-wrapped food,
the plastic cutlery,
absorbed by the clutter of the food tray.
Numbed by hours of jiggling,
the carting of torpid bodies through interminable distance,
we’re wedged now into boredom, uncomfortably numb.
Anesthetized – we fear nothing.
If the aircraft stalls, few will scream.
We’ll keep decanting small bottles of vin de table,
butter buns.
As the aircraft plummets
and drops like a stone to certain death
we’ll still be struggling with condiment sachets,
coffee creamers, with small, molded cruets
oblivious now to anything less important.
In dress, mortician's finery
pure ebony entire,
eshewing tints of purity,
He dropped in by my fire.
It was His island after all;
his chapel ceiling, trees
I see what little I possess
and He
Possesses what He sees.
The trickster of the Inuit
this feathered deity,
I thought He wished to share the Pike
His lake gave up to me.
But thrifty with His speech He was,
As Gods are want to be,
He came around to share my meal
That's all
the time He had for me!
Kind-hearted, loving and compassionate
Dane Ann would jump through hoops to please a friend
But by a treacherous quest she’s beset
In Everglades’ swamps she wants to descend
She seems to think she can take photographs
Of huge alligators and crocodiles
And though Dane Ann has many well-honed crafts
When I speak of the danger, she just smiles
On shore gators run 50 miles per hour
So two mature ladies won’t pose a threat
Their teeth so sharp, personalities dour
One look at us their appetites would whet
Dear friend, I’ll take you where you want to go
Because I care very much – je t’adore
You want close-up shots; the fear in me grows
As gators draw near, will you shut the car door?
*Je t’adore is French for “I love you.”
Dedicated to Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen who thinks she can outrun the gators :)
I ate in an outdoor shed today;
The cold did not stand in my way.
I wasn’t bothered by the noise
Of traffic which, at times, annoys.
Construction sounds, like drills and booms
Or buses spewing noxious fumes
Could not create the slightest dent
In my good mood, nor money spent
On mediocre lunchtime fare;
I was so happy to be there!
My friend and I, both bundled up,
Enjoyed our time to chat and sup.
My first time in an outdoor shed
Since Covid reared its ugly head
Was glorious because, to me,
It felt like how things used to be.
Tonight my wife proclaimed, "My dear, we are dining out!"
I said, "Fine! How about steak and taters or rainbow trout?"
"No" she insisted, "I want an exotic Italian dish!"
Alas, I lost another tete-a-tete spousal skirmish!
We arrived at Luigi's or some such place,
And were seated cozily by the glowing fireplace!
We proceeded to order our favorite wine,
And to that point everything was going fine!
The server presented the menu to me.
I needed an interpreter I could readily see.
The longer the bill of fare that I perused,
The more I became addled and confused!
Fettuccine Alfredo, Portobello Gratine, Tortelloni;
Spezzato Cacciatore, Rigatoni Alla Carpinelli;
Linguine Bagutta, Cattaloni Penne Alla Taratina;
Tortelloni All Primavera, Scaloppini and Picata!
My head was spinning but hardly from the wine.
As I tried to figure out upon what I'd like to dine!
I summoned the waiter and said, "If you please,
I'll have a buffaloburger with onions, pickles and cheese!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Overheard by a fly upon the wall
During Clinton's tete-a-tete with his moll
Order extra salami
And a tad more pastrami
For my pizza on your next service call
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 1 Michael Falotico's "A Fly On The Wall" Contest - February 2011
While ambling down the boulevard,
I spied a swanky canopy.
As member of the avant-garde,
The classy bistro suited me.
When greeted by the maitre'd,
I nonchalantly said, "Just one."
He smiled and nodded graciously.
My gourmand venture had begun.
As soon as seated, promptly pounced
A waiter dressed in gray and pink.
"My name is Jacques," the man announced
And asked what I prefer to drink.
I ordered an aperitif
And proffered menu then perused.
In panic mode, I thought, "Good grief!
It's all in French. I'm so confused!"
When Jacques returned, with easy air,
I asked what he would recommend.
When he'd advised the bill of fare,
My gaze did then the room attend.
A masterpiece of elegance,
So understated and refined.
No chandeliers nor opulence,
Artistic taste and chic combined.
Came appetizers, quite a few,
And tiny salads, each unique.
With wines and cheeses right on cue,
'Twas gourmet dining at its peak.
For entrees there were perfect meats
With succulence beyond compare.
Then followed some exotic sweets
And coffee quite extraordinaire.
While savoring a fine cigar,
I said their chef deserved to win,
For haute cuisine the best by far,
Another star from Michelin.
When mammoth check was given me,
I calmly said I could not pay.
"Though penniless, you must agree
You've gained a customer today."
Was booted roughly out the door
With expletives obscene and rude.
In gutter prone, a vow I swore
That for assault I'd have them sued.
I did, however, leave a tip
On seventh race next afternoon.
That Jacques should into savings dip
And bet it all on Silver Spoon.
Coffee, Coffee is the call
Loud enough to be heard by all
Those who serve can never be
Quick enough to silence me.
For I hear others wanting things
That no one on this earth can bring.
So, how on earth can I expect
Any measure of respect.
From those who so valiantly try
To catch each request while passing by.
So I tip my hat to those brave souls
Who serve and maintain self-control.
They are tested day by day
And never have a word to say.
So, when the coffee calls are met
Their valiant service we not forget.
Written By John Posey
5/27/15
Author’s Note:
This was written as a tribute to the Dining Room servers in the Assisted Living complex in which we live…. Jake
it's
a hunger
that thrives
on
momentary lapses
of reason
a
split second starvation..
sound
stealing
stimulant
I
finally have possession
of you..
So I
sit here and
watch you sleep
while
Satan softly serinades
the air..
So
you can dream
as I scheme
on
how to keep you
another shot of
comfortably numb
sung by the bottle
humming a hostle lullaby..
i'm
out of my mind
Moaning the
sweetest disowning
knowing
you belong in first.
but
for what it's worth
Tonight
you have met
the dirtiest demon
dining
on
"But, there's gotta be a way
i can get her to stay"
let us prey
Everyone who knows me- knows I whine,
About the weather winter, spring, summer and fall;
And at my frequent wine and cheese where we dine,
On my sofa, us girls chat and drink and eat and sprawl.
In winter, I like to complain about the cold,
While sipping red wine and eating aged cheddar;
I am dreaming and wishing for that sun of gold,
All the time wrapped in a thick wool cozy sweater.
In spring, I like to tell everyone about rain,
That darn constant rain that falls all the time;
I sip bianca, munch havarti, oh such a pain,
And my friends nod, nod but they never ever chime.
In summer, I like to tell all how hot it is,
The forever heat and that unbearable blazing sun;
Oh, pass the brie and lets raise the fizz,
My favorite place, the pool floating for all day fun.
In fall, I let people know that I am sad,
I gulp a glass of grape vino and bite some blue cheese;
Soon cold will come back and it will be bad,
I know, listen to me girls- it will be a deep freeze.
Now, pass the bottle never mind the glass, PLEASE.
______________________
August 1, 2016
Poetry/Rhyme/Whining while Dining on Cheese
Copyright Protected, ID 16-813-244-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Here's My Whine
Now Pass The Cheese
sponsor, Phillip Garcia
Third Place
Overheard by a fly upon the wall,
During Clinton's tete-a-tete with his moll,
"Order extra salami
And a tad more pastrami,
For my pizza on your next service call!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Wining and dining!
I enjoy a good glass of wine
Whenever I go out to dine
But the prices are steep
So I make sure I keep
The rest to take home cause it’s mine!
Copyright2011 Beatrice Boyle Written for contest on June 23, 2011
(All rights reserved)
He chose to dine on the seas of time
to drink from Cinderella's slipper
Alas and alack, the glass did crack ~
sparkling champagne awash in kipper
Mother asked her big brother to pass the sugar;
big brother ruined it by splashing on liquor;
father rued spilt liquor by throwing his jigger
that hit sister who lit an elbow hard slammer
straight into the hand of their rare guest and butcher;
butcher stood to secure a full-face slap on her;
slap missed, striking their napping, fat cat to a blurred
flying fur on shriek tour that dog crashed with claws bore;
clawed dog wailed and bailed, dragging tail out wee dog
door where he ran to distance pain until a looper
stopped his scooter – close by was one giant cougar;
too pooped to care, tired dog flopped right then and
right there; dog closed eyes, cougar cleared throat, then
croaked, ‘Hey, Lassie, are you insanely blind to cougar
claw lugers?’; dog moaned, ‘A quick cougar corker beats
home murder.’
After dinner
Stomach claiming to be a winner
There is an ending that is sweet
A course defined as the meal’s treat
Small surprise filled with candy
Sometimes sneaking in a little brandy
Lighting a torch
Baked Alaskan commanded to go forth
Bringing the whipping cream
Finishing off an evening that was a dream
Started with a small plate
Appetizers to nibble on as the diner’s wait
Then comes the main event
Hunger gone and went
It is the main dish
Steak or seafood the customer’s wish
When passing this elegant time
Coupling it with the right wine
Whispering they converse
Not thinking about their money in the purse
Since it is a wonderful delight
Award winning in every bite
Leaving the table
If physically able
People at peace
Soothing the bitter in any beast
Next opportunity the dessert tray arrives
Give it a try
It is the final serving
To a special moment well deserving
No worries about the check and balance
Getting home may take some talent
When looking to the ceiling
Having that regurgitating feeling
Savoring it was pleasant
For once not being a peasant
Enjoying this culinary present
Where knives and forks
Do the work
Leaving celebration to pop the cork