Best Fattening Poems
Be it known as convenience food, junk food or munchies;
whether spicy, melt-in-your-mouth soft, or crunchy,
food, inglorious food, seduces with ease
and ensnares with the emptiest of calories.
Disguised as a comfort food comes macaroni
with creamy Alfredo and kin, Fettucini,
To not be outdone, spaghetti entices
with large fattening meatballs and sauce rich in spices.
“Deep fried” knows our weakness for fat, which gives pleasure
and saturates fast foods, it seems, in great measure:
KFC (finger-licking), batter-fried fishes
and chicken fried steaks -high cholesterol dishes.
Even fruits will attack with enjoyment unhealthy
as tarts, pies or pastries. That apple is stealthy!
Veggies can also be treacherous things
in guise of corn fritters and gold onion rings.
Too much of a good thing is pizza (so cunning,
so meaty, so cheesy), which no one is shunning.
The taco, burrito, and big burger too
in great numbers descend on us. What can we do?
Those delectable luscious desserts that we eat
have only to sit there; we cannot retreat!
Candies and chocolate, our decadent sin,
sweetly defeat us. We simply give in.
Ice cream, a smooth foe, knows when we are blue.
On a cone or a spoon, it drips, waiting for you.
As a milkshake, a frosty, a sundae or float,
or between split bananas, it sure floats MY boat!
Buttered popcorn is one salty foe, and we love it!
The hot dog implores in our mouths that we shove it.
Baked bread, so alluring, entraps with its scent,
which wafts through the air as if heaven sent!
The standards of junk food -America’s pride -
crisp bacon and nachos, chips and foods fried,
invade our malls’ food courts and lurk high and low.
Their smells overwhelm us wherever we go!
We might try but we can’t make our junk food desist.
for only the health nuts can dare to resist.
In the war with inglorious food I adore,
I say, Bring it on! Here’s my plate; I want more.
For the The Synathroesmic Cat Contest Poetry contest of Suzanne Delaney
*So now you can all know why I try to get to the gym a lot. hahaha
There are those engaged in pedagogy
To facilitate the drip... drip... drip
Of poison to accost a child's ear.
Maneuvering with glee and juicy decadence...
Sequestering all they say and hear.
Filled with righteous indignation
And a blind sanctification to their cause.
They pervert both judge and jury...
Twisting truth with sainted claws.
Under a veil of woeful ignorance...
They molest and kink impeccant minds.
When pressed to divulge their scribblings...
They graciously decline.
'You've not the right!' They blindly scream.
'Your fear and doubt is blatantly absurd.
We are gentle shepherds of our flock...
But you'll just have to take our word.'
For far too long we've abdicated our
Responsibility to these purveyors of disruption.
As they've repackaged long failed ideologies...
Fattening our children for destruction.
Nothing good comes from darkness
Except mushrooms and a willingness to deceive.
And proselytizing children like some fungi...
Seems unnecessarily naive.
These predators, race-baiters and gangsters
Are akin to an unruly cockroach in the night.
They happily go about their sordid business
Till someone dares to shine a light.
If you refuse to rise and shine that light...
Then we be back where this began.
But there are still foxes in the chicken-coop...
There be wolves among the lambs.
The End
*Follow my cartoon at Webtoon Bob's your uncle
*Pedagogy: -the principles and methods of instruction.
-the activities of teaching.
Health Food
natural, low-calorie
nourishing, strengthening, boring
kale, *kimchi, chips, chocolate
tantalizing, satisfying, fattening
salty, sweet
Junk Food
*Kimchi is the national health food of Korea, fermented vegetables, particularly cabbage. It's nasty-tasting stuff, but to each his own.
For the Diamante Poem Contest of Caren Krutsinger
It's used as an afterthought, fattening festive
arrangements for Mother's Day, Easter,
someone's birthday. An underrated vine,
enhancing center-stage flowers whose star-power
doesn't wear well. It's the "coming attraction"
that's there after the clapping dies down,
replanted by doorstep or gravestone. "Grow,"
I say, "Change my life with your traveling beauty,
your common denominator, your scrawling
signature seldom sought for autographs.
Snaking around graves at our family plot,
it's an ongoing gift, out-giving the giver
with its "overwhelming darkness", reminding us
where there is life, there is also death. Surviving,
thriving in hanging pots the less hardy exit,
it surprises and delights, reaching down from limbs
of trees for soil, unchallenged there in pine straw
until tender tendrils insinuate their way
to daylight through tapestries of needles
When the ivy becomes dense, I will know
you are there: ivy of my heart, ivy of essence,
the graceful way it swings and sways, how
it takes to new habitat in the way you, Julie,
cut a swath through New York City after lifetimes
in the easy South. We are old souls, older
than the hedera, cousin to ginseng, reminder
of the movement of the heavens, the ability
to bring things together. You were shelter,
the poets' headpiece, bringing peace
to my household. Resurrection and rebirth,
Julie, in this Easter of ivy.
500 grms Stardust
2 Tablespoons of Rose dew
2 Tablespoons of Lavender
Zest of suggestion
25 Kisses
50 Smiles
10 Pieces of candle light
25 Heartbeats
2 Holding hands
12 Passion flowers
Sprinklea few more kisses
Slowly blend with half litre
of joyful tears
Stir with Cupids arrow until
of a beautiful consistancy
Pinch of baking powder
just to get he rise
Cook in the perfect ambience
Tis non fattening, but eat in
moderation, beware of the
consequences
Abominable holiday season greeting to the have-nots me and you
Bombshell tabloid sleigh bells got those ear holes ringing
Cut the tax gift wrap ribbon, only good cheers for the wealthy few
Ducky Little Donald beaky wacky-quacky curse caroling
Ebony epithets, Latino canina lobs, Palestinian and Muslim sobs
Freeze the Access Holly Would frame, hear the locker room talk
Get smart, dummies ... Populist Idol adored by Wall Street snobs
Hate not the playa, love the con: Eraserheads don’t need no chalk
Incense of Uranium burning, napalm is pissy incendiary to touch
Jingling cash registers be jiggling twin money-makers below and above
Kiss the ring of the Don, you poor stiffs ... just don’t ask for much
Let not the blue chips, white gems and red jewels make you a begging fool
Make the payments on time, or he break your legs with loan sharky love
No Festivus is complete without the test of strength Labor Party feats
O, deary me, Hercules Putin is cancelling from the main event
Proof is compromising truth, we don’t eat no tainted Trump red meat
Questionable straight partners sexually, fake news getting bent
Risque business dealings, tiptoe thru the financial tulip inquiries
Stake your illegit claim, skim a little off the top ... fattening grifter butt
Take a little less scrutiny, a lot more thievery ... no legal worries
Ultimate year end declaration: Shed that slothful image of a Jabba Hutt
Vacant morality, rampant gluttony ... gotta do what the lust belly says
Wiggle weight-loss room is minimal, doing the right thing is optional
*** expose, another failed marriage on the way ... oh, happy dog days
Young bacon tenders is ripe for old Porky Pig, innocence is so sellable
Zinc adulating is the best White holiday blues lip service Rudy brown-nosers do
And we are left here
Like maggots—dirty, parentless…devastated
Always feeding on the gruel…the cruel
Fattening our lives in the moneyless bilk
Shocking like a bee sting, yet soft as silk
We are the forgotten
I am watching the others grow rotten
But I am cleansed and raw with glee
Because…though blinded with slime…I SEE…
I rise to the sound of the agonizing screams
Of rapes, murders, of violent fists…weeping minds
My definition of true finds…
I smile when any possible hope arrives
Fate laughs, knowing I constantly scream inside
I am amused of it all…I can’t stop laughing
As bitter tears began to fall
I HATE ALL OF YOU…
I WANT TO KILL YOU ALL…
But I love that I can take anything
From the nothing we have all been labeled
The sick, the low…the mentally unstable
Watch me roll up in a ball
A naughty tease to death’s lull
I love your silence…
I love your intense fall
And we are more alive than any of you
We are crazed by your belligerence
Aching to be emotionless
SHARE YOUR INDIFFERENCE
SHARE IT…
Give us something to be left with
So the others can die
As Fate veers its head looking in the mirror
Listen to her laughter—do you hear her?
She watches and waits
To find her maggots have grown wings…
Screw your selfish indifference...we fall to fly
We are more alive than any of you
Though quickly we die
A descension of value bows night scenes,
the purple canopy edges its hoist,
spirits cool Platte River to lose its sheen,
Nebraskans wake to clarion fields voiced.
A loyal guest calls, it's the Sandhill Cranes,
dancing lessons, fields fattening corn orts,
pecking and choosing established campaigns.
Last state, go afoul, -- a date with the courts.
Locals aid their tally, most from afar,
It is nature's clock, all good things must end,
fly north to breed, and brood, and up to par,
A month's here, till next year, that's how the trend.
Awnings grey, triumphant stirs, the tension,
inspiring, crescendo ... the ascension.
Declined
Laughing, only to hide the tears,
now gathering in the corners of my mouth,
drowning me…(I should be so lucky)
staring at a reflection in the protective glass,
not someone I recognize at this convenience store counter,
even if it is me
When facing a fool, as I often do,
I close my eyes as to not see the sorrowed face,
yet I know…I have been warned
“Don’t reach for what you cannot have…
No hands in the cookie jar,
it’ll spoil your appetite”
But I don’t listen, I hear, but…I am hungry,
she can’t mean me? Not me,
not the dancing clown that brings smiles
Watch me juggle, my heart, my love, my soul,
spotlights transition my lenses
and the stage goes dark
The minimum wage clerk is not amused,
wiping his nose with his hand,
then extending it as if requesting payment
But I have not purchased, I have only looked,
watched her walk to another, thumbing her nose in my direction
as if hitch hiking on her face
Still I reach for an empty wallet
filled with past due receipts and plastic poison,
fattening the faux leather Fossil with I.D. holder
Another swipe of the card, slowly as directed,
magnetic strip inward…
declined…what else is new
God lets us see life from every angle. Anklebiters that we are. Fist fighters, black-eyed contenders, snivelers. The boss looks down, looks into our eyes, looks at our feet, looks underneath. We don’t see the cobwebs between our fingers and toes, in our mouth and ears. Our hairdos make us look like weirdos, piled fry-high, like the bride of Frankenstein. Our hearts shoved into the easy-bake of childhood. Black-spider shades grip our nose and tether behind our ears, holding onto dendrites. White teeth flash their watermelon pits, black and blue. God lets us see from every angle. The dark spots hinder perfect sight, the dark holes below lower lashes, thinning lips, fattening thighs, exercising our rights, but mostly wrongs. I hear the gong...not many do. Do we belong to the world or to our God? Is this yet Babylon. Our speech once babbled, have we forgotten? Why do you think we don’t all speak the same language? Scientists prove there’s been a worldwide flood. Jesus walked the earth and the sun. Now you see the one world coming together. Remember what happened last time the world did this — were we not scattered? Scientists say there was a continental divide — this once united mass. Indeed we are anklebiters, curtain climbers, toddlers. God lets us find our own stray. Can we find our own way?
1/6/2021
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done in earth,
as it is in heaven.
Matthew 6:10 KJV
Strutting down York Avenue,
Appearing in a hurry,
His face is beatific,
Showing not a drop of worry.
With one child in his hand grasp
And another at his chest,
He seems a modern father
But he stands out from the rest.
It isn’t for his man-bun,
Rather for the clothes he wears –
Not jeans or sweats or khakis,
For it’s leggings earning stares.
Today’s had printed donuts
Looking fattening and sweet,
While yesterday’s were swirled
With every color you might meet.
I wonder as his kids grow up
If they’ll think he looks cool
Or, as I perceived when others gaped,
More like a kingdom’s fool.
The rise, like an inhale
breathe slowly, breathe longingly
The fattening of the dough
the tummy expectant, the tummy expanding
Cocooned in its nest
its stretchiness, its pleasant scents
Like an infant in a swaddle
the soothing towel, slightly moist
The rise, like an inhale
breathe slowly, breathe longingly
The ascent complete
lungs exhaustively expanded, waiting to exhale
The arousing response
bright light, hands stimulate dough
The pushback of palms
elasticity released, globular rest
The rise, like an inhale
breathe slowly, breathe longingly
After shaping the dough
blanket over sleeping creation, one final rest
Our daily bread
of prayer produced, from suffering loosed
The “fourth man” in the oven graced
inner softness, cortical strength
Wonderfully infamous Maine sweet treat, sometimes called whoopsie.
Happiness from your first bite of chocolate cream filled cakes.
Only to disappear soon after you make them.
Optional flavors of chocolate, maple, raspberry, and peanut butter too.
Pumpkin ones in the fall are all the rage!
Icing can be in many flavors; cream cheese, vanilla, or something new.
Every bite is decadent, fattening and satisfying.
People even attend a whoopie pie festival every year.
I found that my grandmother hid a stash in her freezer, no one knew.
Easy to make and enjoy; Marjorie Standish has the best recipe too!
Refreshing that first breath of Autumn air,
As welcome as the first soft breeze of spring.
Goodbye to Summer and its skies so fair.
Adventure forth without coat if you dare,
As to their summer’s wear some folks would cling.
Refreshing that first breath of Autumn air.
A preview of the winter’s cold is there.
Migrating birds arriving on the wing,
Goodbye to Summer and its skies so fair.
The last of harvests all wild ones will share.
Not too long now before the snowflake’s sting.
Refreshing that first breath of Autumn air.
Soon, soon, the big retreat to winter lair,
After fattening in last big feasting fling.
Goodbye to Summer and its skies so fair.
Livestock will depend on farmer’s care,
With grasses gone, he must their fodder bring.
Refreshing that first breath of Autumn air.
Goodbye to Summer and its skies so fair.
By: Joyce Johnson
10/12/12
A handsome man tall, slim and about 225 pounds,
Asked me out for a seafood dinner on our first date,
Still eats everything fattening, I know how that sounds,
Some twenty-eight years later, I still have a 225 pound mate,
That sucks, I’m not fat ~ just really, really short for my weight.
October 8, 2011
For Nancy Jone’s Contest
“Things That Suck”