Best Escargot Poems
If I were a prisoner on death row
just hours away from execution
I would NOT order a meal of calamari with ratatouille,
filet mignon with truffles and Strawberry Sherbet.
I would reject a plate of Duck Liver Terrine with Confit Quail
garnished by Baby Leeks and Porcini mushrooms.
I would sneer at Saskatoon berries and Niagara peaches
dripping in lavender honey and maple syrup.
Peking duck, Scottish kippers, caviar, abalone
Siberian meat dumplings and escargot
washed down with a fruity chardonnay and a supple merlot
would not be of interest to me.
I’d insist on a baked Russet potato
freshly picked from an Idaho organic farm
topped off with Schuler bar cheese and sour cream
and washed down with Martinelli’s sparkling cider.
In my final moments I’d reflect on how Luther Burbank
began with the seeds of an Early Rose potato plant
and worked for years to breed the awesome tuber
that has come to be called the Idaho Baker.
And I’d feel sad as I meditated on how
the brilliant but impoverished Burbank
had to sell his tater masterpiece to a tycoon
named J H Gregory for $150!
For forty years the world’s potato scientists
(and yes, there are such people)
have worked to improve the Idaho Russet
and have failed to find a serious contender.
When I’m finally executed for my crimes of inanity
and ascend to the ‘Heaven for the Misunderstood’
I’ll dine on the manna from planet Earth,
the humble but delectable Burbank Russet potato.
Categories:
escargot, funny
Form:
Free verse
Well over a hundred years ago
The illustrious Vincent Willem Van Gogh
A genius somewhat like Michelangelo
With thousands of artworks in his cluttered studio
From the sublime to the grotesque for show
Might have been better off working as a gigolo
Because he died a pauper on skid row
In those days artists had no impresario
To make sure they lived high in a chateau
Dining on champagne and escargot
So it was quite a different scenario
That brilliant artists lived totally incognito
Often exchanging a painting for a meal on a patio
Or selling their wares door to door on tiptoe
Carrying under their arm their impressive portfolio
So it was for Vincent Willem Van Gogh
Misunderstood and suffering from vertigo
Mentally unstable and drinking heavily in Bordeaux
Depressed, impulsive and insane – a tragic combo
Cut off a piece of his ear, his sanity was touch and go
A troubled soul, life for him was a wild rodeo
Obsessive passion, far from living the status quo
His life and work intertwined shimmying like a yo-yo
Feeling the stranger, he shot himself overcome with sorrow
Post mortem everyone wanted to hear the myth of Van Gogh
With his vivid colors of burgundy, ochre and indigo
In his honor every year the orchestra features the oboe
And while the Italians chant magnifico
Everyone else cheers Bravo! Bravo!
How times have changed for poor Van Gogh
From a mere hundred years ago ~
Read on air by invitation ~ March 21, 2020 'LATE NIGHT POETS'
AP: 2nd place 2021, 3rd place 2022, 3rd place 2021, Honorable Mention 2022, Honorable Mention 2022, Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on August 15, 2021 for YOUR BEST MONORHYME contest sponsored by WILLIAM KEKAULA - RANKED 1ST
March 20, 2018 to END MARCH 18 STANDARD CONTEST sponsored by BRIAN STRAND
and May 4, 2018 to contest SCREWED XVIII sponsored by ROB CARMACK
Categories:
escargot, art, celebrity, irony, mental
Form:
Monorhyme
I am a foodie, I must confess, I swim a few laps for exercise
Along come the Mollusk, and to my pleasant surprise
I have no restraint and they look so yummy
I just open my jaws wide, and fill up my tummy
Holy Mackerel, they make quite the feast!
Unlike that deepwater whale; Moby Vic, that lumbering beast
A real blow show, they eat any freak’n thing
Whale diet: Squid, Krill, Larvae, what distaste they bring!
Ah, catching up to the guys, what are they circling ‘round?
Heya Tom, Bill, GW, Anil. Rob, l see you’ve gained a pound
“I’m on a sea-food diet, I see food, I eat it!” Hee hee hee
Yep, you may want to stick to your day job, try a sea-shanty!
Look over there boys, the Seahorses, I hear they work for LYFT
Harry, how’s business, break for some sushi? California Roll, a gift
You may wanna giddy up, plenty of shrimp crawling beneath you
I know how much the Seahorse love to munch crustaceans too
"Shrimp—cockroaches of the sea! Not a kosher food"
Okay GW, what do you eat, my friend, set the mood
Gefilte fish recipe; grind the salmon, red snapper, codfish,
Onions, carrots, add eggs, sugar, salt, white pepper, in a dish
Stir in ice water, add matzo meal and chop, boil, voila, gefilte fish!
To the right of us, why it’s Lady L, my, she is swell
Small crabs on her menu, anything in the sand that dwell
Blowfish is a species that feeds on poison, dangerous to eat
They can’t hunt, they call ‘em puffers, just one puff’s a real treat
Anil, do you believe in sea nymphs on a blue oceanic parade?
Yes, I vision the lovely face of Wendy on the frame of a mermaid
Nil, come on now, aren’t you married, mate
OK, Tom, I’m going home, I won’t be late, I won’t be late
To the right of us the Starfish, greet the ladies of the sea
How they brighten the day, on display, as charming as can be
Pangie, Valsa, Andrea, Paula, Len, Kim, Eve and Gina
I know how you love snails, I bring escargot straight from the Marina
And so, my friends, another lovely day. Join us for our usual Activities and Brunch
6/11/22
Third Place
A Merger With Food Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Natasha L Scragg
Categories:
escargot, day, fish, food,
Form:
Rhyme
I'm partying down at a Hollywood bash
The reason I'm here is that I crashed
I figured that if I would have asked
I would have been told to kiss their...
Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies
I'm not even close to being a famous guy
Something I often ponder and question why
But that's another story for another...
Time to see if there's anyone that I know
As I'm rubbing elbows with the escargot
Something smells fishy at this table bro
Wondering should I stay or should I...
Go ahead and think what you will of me
I'm just here to meet Justin "The Bieb"
Once I do then I can leave
Wait a minute, in the corner is that...
She gave me a glimpse from behind the bar
I'd take her home but don't have a car
With that deduction I wont get very far
Still do you think she thinks I'm a...
Star light helps to guide me home
I was found out and kicked out of the Hollywood bowl
It's a lonely walk that I'm walking home
Hey look! Another party, what the heck, you never know...
Categories:
escargot, funny, humor,
Form:
Free verse
'It's A Small World' Restaurant ~ Hudson Valley, New York
My restaurant makes sense, it's rational...
the food I serve is multinational;
selected dishes, tasty, lots of fun
served in a setting that's compared to none.
The dining room's a circular design;
the floor rotates around and walls align
with landscapes of fine countries of the world
so diners feel the ambiance while whirled.
From USA's hamburger treats with fries
to Ireland's rich, delicious shepherd pies,
deep-dish lasagna with Italian wine,
and bratwurst, spaetzle Germans think divine.
Some soul food choices cooked as African
American delights browned in the pan,
like chicken, southern fried with black-eyed peas
and collard greens, a dish that's sure to please.
My Asian menu's served with varied teas,
from Chinese favorites to Japanese:
Chow Mein, Dim Sum, fried rice and spring rolls too;
Sushi, Tempura, Niku Jaga stew.
Great Britain's fish and chips, beef wellington,
or escargot from France; all said and done,
my restaurant draws many people in
to choose their culture's favorite at whim.
And while they dine, the music plays along
selected part from each land's special song.
My restaurant makes sense, it's rational...
with food and spirit multinational.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Contest: My Imaginary Restaurant
Sponsor: Silent One
Judged: 10/03/2016
Inspired by:
Garden Grill Restaurant - Epcot, Disney World, Florida
revolves around vibrant views from Living with the Land.
and
It's A Small World - Show, The Magic Kingdom, Disney World, Florida
Categories:
escargot, fantasy, food, world,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
Armadilly Billy the Sling Shot Kidster, was the Sheriff of our town.
When mangy rustlers went into action, he was wont to hunt them down.
‘The Buzzard’ and his surly gang of rustlers of epically, bad renown…
Had picked Texas and other states clean, and were on the move, NOW!
A terrible dust storm, dumped them smack dab, into our piece of territory.
The evil buzzard leader sat, now contemplating, upon the hangman’s tree.
His gang was ready to rustle, as he sat scoping out, many a nefarious deed.
Their base camp was an Old Box canyon, not far, and full of tumbleweeds.
Now, snail rustling’s a crime, so word got out, of where they’d be found.
As they’d gleaned, every single snail, grazing in all the creeks, all around.
The outlaws were expecting soon, to get away quite clean, with them all.
But the sheriff of our town, Billy was steamed, and he was standing tall.
Billy went on the move, and he meant business, if you know, what I mean.
Yep! He’s tough! He’s mean! He’s focused! His eyes were hard and lean!
While ‘The Buzzard’s’ head was bald, eyes cruel, his stance was cold as ice.
In the box canyon they’d be snail kabobs, by sundown, if Billy didn’t strike.
The snails were easy to follow, just had to follow their trail of yucky slime.
With Billy’s trusty stead Jalopy, they were at the boxed canyon by noontime.
Now, No One, and I mean NO ONE, steals, while Billy’s Sheriff in any town.
That no good, low down, Buzzard better watch out, for he’d now been found.
When Billy arrived they were loading snails into a boxcar to ship for Escargot.
The French black market in Quebec would offer a price, beyond compare so…
To bring them buzzards down, Billy’s slingshot clipped each wing and tail.
Without their feathers they couldn’t fly so they couldn’t remotely prevail.
But not without looking each one in the eye, for he was the good guy, after all.
There was neigh a feather left, as they were buzzard bait, way before nightfall.
But who can tell on a buzzard, for they don’t have much to start with, anyway.
Now they were the one’s loaded on a train set to Yuma, to prison all the way.
The moral to my story is that: Crime never EVER pays. Besides…
Snail rustling is just plain dumb! They’re so slow, that it's a pain!
To the music: The Good The Bad and the Ugly.
Categories:
escargot, adventure, fantasy, fun, humor,
Form:
Light Verse
Flaming steaks and ice cold drinks
you thought good food had become extinct
until you ate here and gave us a nod and a wink.
Appetizers galore with soft stringy cheese sticks, artichoke hearts deep fried
with a taste of parmesan cheese and a dip to please.
bacon wrapped shrimp you might want to frame, seared sea scallops that
make you want to gallop, stuff mushrooms that'll make you croon, escargot
and baked claims as you eat them you'll definitely leave a stain
Ice burg lettuce or romaine with fresh dressing all homemade.
Lobster bisque soup with a deep rich taste if you don't like
seafood try Tomato bisque instead, French onion soup either a bowel
or cup just don't be a glut.
Your auntre is about to start your just warming up
hot garlic bread with a wonderful spread, Chris's secret recipe if he
told you how he made it you'd be dead.
Succulent steaks porterhouse, ribeye, serlion, T-bone and of course filet
add garlic or lemon butter to dip, 'hooray!'
Chicken flew by giving you legs and wings deep fried
want a little less oil try the fresh grilled chicken
fit for a royal.
Hamburger, cheeseburger just choose your cheese and of course
add bacon please. Want an egg on top sunny side up
when you squeeze the bun it will definitely erupt.
The beef is so fresh the cows stopped mooing when
it hit the grill with no sign of stress.
Vegetable melody or a little broccoli please.
The potato why so many things I can do
baked, French fried, homefried or even mashed
some round or shaped like a torpedo.
Baked fish Talapia, Flounder or even Sea Bass
'Oh' so fresh. We have an aquarium in the back,
just teasing we use a pole and bait at our near by lake.
End the evening as you sit back with a luscious sweet dessert
but please don't drool bibs are provided if needed
or even a paper sack on your way out.
Just remember as my Daddy always said,
'You all come back now you hear, friends are like family
and we hold you all dear!'
Coming Soon: The new "Fire and Ice Grill and Pub"
T Reams
Categories:
escargot, celebration, food, imagery, success,
Form:
Verse
My favorite dining place in town is a place called La Baguette.
'Tis a quaint French café and I haven't found its equal yet.
They serve the most scrumptious French onion soup west of Gay Paree,
And it is slurped by discriminating snobs as well as we bourgeoisie!
They serve other grub such as baguettes and burgundy beef stews,
Escargot, pate, salad maison and an assortment of cheese fondues.
And Monday through Friday they ladle bowls of soup du jour,
But each and every day they serve French onion soup for sure!
Eating French onion soup is a challenge and requires a bit of skill,
Especially, dealing with the stringy cheese in that delectable swill.
The glob of provolone clings like a boa constrictor to my spoon,
And dangles from my noble chin making me look somewhat like a goon!
De mal en pis (just when my dilemma has gone from bad to worse),
Faire bonne mine (to put a good face on matters) I tend to curse.
To save face, next time I'll ask the waiter, "S'il vous plait (if you please),
I'll have a bowl of your French onion soup sans that stringy cheese!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt,USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved
Categories:
escargot, food, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
Did…I…. tell you my father had a horse?
This story is true, you know that, of cause
Well, one day, we found her, with her legs in the air
Chewing a pair of my dad’s old smelly underwear
The poor old nag had broke out in a sweat
The old fart decided to take her to the vet
So off they set off down the farm trail
She moved a little faster than a French escargot snail
At the end of the farm she began to bolt
For twenty meters like a young colt
They had reached Ascot where a horse race was about to start
And behind her she dragged my dad the old fart
It was not long before they were on the race track
With my father flapping like a half mask flag at the back
The gun sounded and the horses began to race
But all slowed down behind the old nag at a steady pace.
No matter now much the jockeys gave their horses the nudge
They wouldn’t take over, they wouldn’t budge
She eventually won 1st prize
And dad 2nd with a bruised pride
While dad lay there out of breath on the ground
They presented him with a cheque of two thousand eight hundred pound
Later the vet told dad she would have never been beat
For the old nag surprisingly was on heat.
*A Horse is A Horse Of Course... Contest by Tirzah Conway*
Categories:
escargot, funnyfather, dad, old, dad,
Form:
Rhyme
ACH! Don't tell me you've never been to an Oktoberfest!
Folks, that's food, drink and entertainment at its best!
Men in lederhosen, frauleins in dirndls, all so full of cheer,
Enjoyin' tasty bratwursts and steins of Hofbrau Beer!
Jamaicans enjoy Red Stripe Beer with red beans and rice.
They like their pristine beaches and they are very nice,
But for simple pleasure and taste buds that you'll endear,
There ain't nothin' like washin' down a bratwurst with a beer!
Friends in Italy enjoy the view of Vesuvius sippin' a Poretti,
Fortified with plates of fettuccine alfredo and spaghetti.
But I can't visualize anything just a whole lot sweeter,
Than a simple bratwurst washed down with suds by the liter!
Scots socialize with their clan at the neighborhood pub,
Drinkin' pints of Innis and Gunn, eatin' haggis for their grub.
French sip Trois Monts dinin' on delicious escargot.
Japanese slurp their noodle soup with a brew called Sapporo.
Mexicans gulp Salitos Beer to quench the tamale's spicy tang.
Folks in Indonesia quaff Bintang Bir with their nasi goreng.
Of assorted foreign beers and their fancy fare I've had my fill;
I'm content to sip a Coors and broil bratwurts on my grille!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Categories:
escargot, foodred,
Form:
Rhyme
It's always hardest, when there is no one to talk to-
When I dial your number, and it just rings and rings
Until the dreaded "voice mail" picks up.
For just an instant, when there is that brief crackle and "click"-
My hopes skyrocket that you have picked up the phone and answered, when I needed it most, the moment I am most frantic...
But when, in reality, it's just that pre-recorded message that I've heard a million times before; how I loath it
And I feel my heart sinking, like there are anchors tied all around it, dragging it into the depths of my stomach!
Where are you? Can you not feel my desperation through the infinite channels of the universe, or are they clogged and busy, too?
Don't you know that I need you, perhaps now, more than ever?
I know you're at that fancy French restaurant you're always talking about, drinking fine wine and eating escargot, possibly dancing the night away.
While I am here, all alone, eating my own heart out for supper.
All I need, all I want, is a compassionate voice on the other end of the line, talking me down off the ledge once again.
Don't you know I've had too much to drink; that I am listening to sad songs and thinking about doing it again- that awful thing which leaves me so terribly scarred when I wake from my stupor? The cuts. You know, those things you hate to see marring my arms.
But I'll have to resort to self-will and self-control, of which I have so very little...
I may or may not make it through another night of melancholy and self-loathing.
Please, for the love of God, pick up the damn phone!
*Any Poem Goes Contest Entry
~JustThatArchaicPoet
Categories:
escargot, absence, dark, death, drink,
Form:
Free verse
I love food. Sometimes a little much!
Food for Thought
By Jan Beaumont ©?
Each country has food that they're known for
Their own local dish you might say
Some are delicious and some a bit strange
And some I'd just think 'oh no way!'
The Chinese of course have their dumplings
They love their pad thai in Bangkok
In Jamaica there's salt fish and ackee rice too
And most people like food from a wok.
They enjoy suckling pig in Korea
There are burgers in old USA
There's a prawn on the barbie in Aussie
And Italians eat pizza each day.
I have tried tasty frog's legs in Paris
But I didn't enjoy escargot
A tandoori chicken in Delhi's just fine
And black pudding in Scotland's a go!
I really enjoy a Greek salad
A hot bowl of pho in Saigon
Yakatori's a great way to eat in Japan
About food I could go on and on.
Of course there's roast beef in old Blighty
Consumed with a great Yorkshire pud
And smothered in gravy on Sundays
Could anything else be that good?
I love a nice tasty Welsh rarebit
In Canada they eat poutine
We live in one huge worldwide kitchen
I'm sure that you know what I mean.
But now we're back home in New Zealand
With our hangi, our pies, L&P,
Vogels bread and our great kiwi icecream
There is no place that I'd rather be!
Categories:
escargot, food, fun, humor, humorous,
Form:
Light Verse
Tease the crowd, post things, small?
Ignore over 800 shootings in Chicago.
Don’t you dare make a fuss at all.
Just sip French wine, nosh on escargot.
The truth is, that many do truly care.
Yet, the hesitant ones, resist any meaning
But they might lose friends, a big scare!
They are pale as a dead spider hanging
from the ceiling!
Thus, puff poetry keeps us smiling and numb.
Death, though, oh so grabs our attention.
Yet, we choose to play it safe and dumb.
We hide itruth under the rug,with conviction.
To write sweet things only, makes me queasy!
Our freedoms are about to be snatched away.
Doing away with six million Jews was relatively easy.
Wait till we cannot pen freely, it’s already happening!
And yet, you, poet, mute, with nothing to say?
Categories:
escargot, courage, fear, integrity, poetry,
Form:
Quatrain
I’ll serve you a plate of delicacies
To fulfil all of your weird fantasies.
A bowl of soup with a floating fish eye
A side of fried crickets piled to the sky.
There will be escargot in golden shells
Not the kind once found in mossy wells.
Octopus tentacles brought to the table
Plenty of squid if you think you’re able.
For desert, a green spun sugar tower
A hundred-year egg, an edible flower.
But ,if that does not to you seem a treat
There’s a McDonalds right down the street!
9/25/16
Categories:
escargot, food, humorous,
Form:
Couplet
The snail is one of God’s creatures.
In his home in the forest land
He keeps the ground cleared with his crunching.
That’s a good thing and I understand.
But why does he come to my garden
To chew on my favorite plants?
The snail can be worse than a beetle or bug
Or even meandering ants.
Now surely I’m smarter than he is,
That small mound of jelly and slop.
But I use all my wiles and my will and my ways,
And still can’t get him to stop.
When he chews on my iris or primrose
That I have so carefully reared,
I attack with an armload of weapons.
Now I am the one to be feared.
His persistence drives me to murder.
I cut him in two with a hoe.
I drown him with beer, pour salt on his rear.
Before a new half he can grow.
He multiplies faster than bunnies.,
And all I can do now is cry.
This snail so tenacious, ferocious, rapacious
Is much more resourceful than I..
The rule is to eat or be eaten
Perhaps he would bow in defeat
If I had a taste for escargot.
It is then my revenge would be sweet.
Categories:
escargot, funny,
Form:
Rhyme