Best Flavorless Poems


Premium Member My Blue Cheese Is

Pineapple pizza with pink pepperoni,
Buffalo wings and brown guacamole,
Little dead fishes in sour cream sauces,
Onions and garlic and greasy red sausage.

Cucumber sandwiches plastered with mustard,
Lemons and limes in a yucky green custard,
Fat happy chickens less all of their feathers,
Tomatoes, potatoes, my mother's hot peppers...

These are a few of my flavorless things!

Loss of Appetite

The world shifted a bit when I walked inside,

my resolution blind to the choke of memory.

It wasn't even you, just your little sister..

I still wanted to turn around, and walk right 

back out of the restaurant. Go home.

**** lunch. Hungry for solitude, I fumbled

with the menu and meditated on the restless

scabs of a beer battered soul.

My father watched my jaw clench

and squinted. Mumbled his query,

but didn't push it. I couldn't speak,

bloody tidal waves surging toward

my eyelids, blurred the menu.

Brinzano? Sea Bass with a 

Chipotle sauce on a bed of rice.

Unsure of my palate, my tongue 

slowly shoveled the words out

and I ordered despite my appetite 

for closure. We locked eyes for a

moment, and she smiled. 

I nodded. Stroked my beard,

and looked toward the truck.

Stuck. 

It was probably rude.

A bit pathetic.

It wasn't even you, just your sister.

But a relative of a butcher,

still sometimes smells of blood.

The food, flavorless in the mouth

of bitter reflection wasted.

The wait for the check, ticked

slowly across my spine

and I wondered if you ever 

saw the flesh of my posture

in a crowd; If it stood out?

Made you hungry?

Or if you have forgotten,

the way I've been trying to

for so long.

-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.

The Voice Inside My Void

I fell into shadow. All is heavy.
Body is quiet. Yet, mind rejects me.
Left without full breath. Everything is gray.
I don't want to go. I don't want to stay.
No hunger, taste, or cheer. Silence is bliss.
Waves of empty, crash into my abyss.
No angry tears. I, just simply, don't care.
Socializing. A thing I wont, can't bear.
I can't see the light. Part of me is scared.
By darkness, spirit is strangled and snared.
Can't be bothered. Torture for me to share.
No eye contact. No emotion to spare.
On autopilot, lizard brain controls.
Anger and frustration. They fill the holes.

Please. Please, stop this torment. It's been too long.
I dreamt you were dormant. You've just grown strong.
What if I end up lost? Or, wake alone?
What's it to cost? Will I be left as stone?
I feel without worth. Broken mosaic.
Heart of lifeless birth. Burnt up candle wick.
No good for anyone. Just, leave me be.
I wake, and am done. Blank is all I see.
My fire is quenched. You stormed my nature.
I am knife, unedged. Meaningless feature.
Waking, sleeping. Water in unplugged drain.
Walking dream. Flavorless, all is the same.
All things inside die. Just my pen won't quit.
Want a hit of life. Lighter won't stay lit.

-Angel Fatale-
© Ryan Tyler  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member 'there Is Life After Meat'

Eating vegetarian is easy, delicious and tasty,
     it is not weird, mushy, or bland or flavorless;
imaginative combinations of recipes can be created,
           it is not just salads but a cornucopia bountiful.

I am a vegetarian who eats eggs and dairy,
     so, technically I am a semi-vegetarian type;
but this category occasionally eats poultry and fish,
          and I don't-  protein is the key and iron is too.

I've learned how to make spring rolls yummy,
     pates, hummus and spicy sweet potato rounds;
dips, noodle bowls, stir-fry veggies, bean burgers, sauces,
          vegetable lasagna, stuffed manicotti, oh my gosh.

Oh, so awesome mac and cheese with three cheeses,
     vegetarian ravioli, tortellini, panini, quesadillas;
wraps, tacos, burritos, subs, pizzas, calzone, and chili,
         all with a little snip of herb or a pinch of this or that.

So, you see eating vegetarian is a cornucopia,
     there is an endless supply-  a fountain of food variety;
a multitude of vegetables and fruit in order to create,
           masses, heaps, piles of delicious, tasty veggie recipes.

____________________________
July 14, 2019

Poetry/Verse/'There is Life After Meat'
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1166-324-02
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym. 


Written for the contest, Cornucopia Cooking
sponsor, Chantelle Anne Cooke

Third Place

Can'T

Words-
What else can you write on a
Blank canvas?
Feelings,
Masked emotions,
Flavorless words coming from
Flavor-FULL lips that just can't!
Can't find the right words
Can't speak the native tongue, even though your parents taught it to you at the age of nine
Can't talk to God because you're afraid he'll only listen.
You think he gives no feedback
BECAUSE he only
Listens.

Forever Changed

Please! This isn't supposed to happen.
You and I. A team forever.
You the heart, me the captain.
Your blue eyes watered, 
tinged with salt.
I sat broken. 
It was my fault.
Watching you die slowly, too;
I sat silently in pain.
I was at a loss. No idea what to do.
Nothing would ever be the same.
Wounded I rose.
Dazed in silence, I walked away.
You called out, weakly. 
There was nothing more to say.
I stumbled toward the coolest thing
I've ever owned.
To transport the saddest soul
I had ever known.
From your freckled face, I walked alone.
Your heart no longer mine to own.
Never have I been so shattered.
Years spent hurting over that.
My life, flavorless. No longer mattered.
A life vibrant, now seemed flat.
Only time would bring clarity.
You are beautiful, but you're lost.
Someday found, just not by me.
I tried. Oh my god....the cost.
I feel the permanent wounds inside.
My heart bleeds constantly, daily.
Feelings unable to hide.
My own actions. Same ones failing thee.
Raven haired girl I loved completely,
eternal spot on my soul.
It destroyed me utterly, woefully.
Catalyst for me. Only now, am I whole.
In this agony, a truth to me spoken.
No man's life replete.
Without heart, at least once broken.
Love's journey. Trip incomplete.

-Angel Fatale-
© Ryan Tyler  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Flavors

My favorite painting-a special theme
A small bright colored truck that sells ice cream
How flavorless and pale its nature now seems
Its palette has faded for many a year
It speaks fatigued like an old man’s dream
Its vision has little euphony, no pleasure I fear

My fairytale is no longer eagerly read
The storyline seems all too common
The characters are bland and dead
The parable within is long forgotten
Much to do about nothing I can recall
Like an empty portrait on a blank white wall

Where is the zest-filled life that I once felt and saw?
It disappeared without my knowing at all
And now it’s fading each day more and more 
Where is that scrumptious ice cream truck that visited my door?


January 17, 2021
Rewrite January 18, 2021

Watered-Down Juice Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh

Premium Member A Jar of Mustard and Ketchup Too

Yes you are lacking in basic culinary skills
your cooking is wanting for a flavor thrill
And heaven knows you'll never make a savory dish
so close your eyes and use the chefs last wish
Food too plain and bland what do you do
get that jar of mustard and ketchup too
Don't be shy tastebuds counting on you
open that jar of mustard and ketchup too
Slather it, smear it, pour it on strong
the more you use the less it taste wrong
The vigor of mustard on your tongue
that sweetness of ketchup sings a song
Disguise that flavorless gunk on your plate
pile high those condiments for goodness sake
Make it bearable and a eatable chow
with sky high food prices can't be wasteful now
So be grateful and thankful that you are able to chew
your mediocre insipid rather mild boring cooked food
By simply adding to the table what you must do
a jar of mustard and ketchup too.

Tomato Chase

TOMATO CHASE

Now....
Out of season
They're reddish
Uniform in size & shape
Firm
And flavorless

In season
They're RED
All sizes and shapes
Firm, soft, some just right
And flavorful

Yesteryears
They were magic
Like the transformation of a caterpiller
The little yellow flower
Gives way to the tiny green marble
Stalk n stems grow bigger
Marbles grow larger
The green fuzzy rough stems
The scent
That wonderful smell 
So unique to the tomato plant
They turn green to red
Some even get incubated on a sunny sill 
When it's time
Knife reveals seeds and red splotched juice
And the TASTE
A taste that fades with our age
That TASTE that we chase every summer
Close 
But never a ringer

Gomorrah A.D.

A dot crept  
Tarnishing a blue sky.
A red ball, a period, paused in small hands.
Something twinkled in the sky—falling.
An eye closed and a thumb raised:
Smearing it, mocking it.

A thousand gossamer threads trailed it.
And Atropos—sublime, dreadful
Was patient at her platform
blades, hungry, dull from work

Then: white, a silent white, a sheer white
Flash, a Fatman burst

Hell: bodies packaged in flames,
Worn are sagging suits that peel
Cord flesh hangs sight dangles
Muddied sky, red pulse
            God?
Knitting the air, screams throb
Weave a blanket obscene
Rain. Warm droplets explode
Stain, black, skin. Rain.

            Divine
Intervention-less pit charred city flavorless
Gather in tight little herds
Sore carapace fester, abandoned eyes
A peer here,there, glimpse glint
Something scuttles across window—soul?

Click, click. Hand tremble snap moment:
Lonely wall fragment black relief
Children moan for release.
            God?

Quote Prompt 3

 "You must have known you were wrong when your fingers dipped inside me searching for honey that would not come for you."
-rupi kaur




   searching endlessly for sweetness
you crowded my reasons for letting you go-
         sudden heartbreak leaves no room for
                     sugarcoated delicacies.
 
       -my flavorless goodbyes...



Fictional Write- I love my hubby :)
November 3, 2016

Premium Member Yoyo Weight

Eating celery just won't do
every day on the scale makes me mighty blue
Lose one pound gain back two
using a laxative is just too crude

           One sunny day I'll be thin again
            my metabolism will burn within
            I'll be able to eat any sweets I wish
            pour on the gravy and lick clean the dish

Born to be fat, wearing triple X
buying size 32 dreaming one day they'll fit
Don't eat that, drink zero calorie
flavorless rice cakes are my new reality

           One sunny day I'll be thin again
            my metabolism will burn within
            I'll be able to eat any sweets I wish
            pour on the gravy and lick clean the dish

Yoyo weight is my doomed fate
for with every diet my will escapes
Lose a few pounds then cheat and celebrate
and that mean scale shows I've gained back the weight

            One sunny day...

Premium Member The Lovely Banquet

I went to a lovely banquet, everything 
 prepared was so pleasing to the eye.

 I saw things that I had never seen
 before.
 Some dishes appeared unusual and
 out of place.
 Others looked rare and exotic; I didn't 
 know whether to eat or stare.
 

 In the end, I chose to indulge myself
 in a once in a lifetime feast.

 But as I began to eat the different things 
 on the menu, 
 My palette and taste buds shocked and
 deceived me.

  The things that appeared rare and exotic 
  were bland and flavorless.
  And things that seemed rare and unusual, 
  and just plain odd,
  Had finesse and flavor throughout its core
  and danced on my tongue.

  It was the best things I ever tasted; if I went
  by their appearance alone, I wouldn't have
  given them a second thought. 











Alexis Y.
04/6/2021
© Alexis Y.  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member I SHALL REFRAIN

I shall refrain
From voicing my political taste
As it varies by occasion

A soft mushy oatmeal
Breakfast
Accompanied by a few
Blushing strawberries

A street vendor hot dog
With relish
And a side of sauerkraut
Washed down with
A finely distilled, purified
Arizona Aquifer water

A “choke and slide” PB&J
On the run
To pick up the grandkids

Fresh fruit and veggies
Of unknown origin
A flavorless meat mime
Of questionable authenticity 
Milk, with an expiration date
Longer than mine

Dessert
The hope of the day
Soft, chewy, warmth
Draped in a whipped cream robe
Delivered
To another table.

Premium Member Begone

Every so often he calls my name 
Can you hear me, he says 
Look at you, you fool 
You are not worthy of life 
You are a disgrace, boy 
The way you talk to others so sweetly 
The way that you walk...
With that permanent smile... 
On that sorry looking face of yours 
The things that you say and do 
Who are you, some kind of god...he says 
How dare you welcome them into a life so dull and flavorless 
Step aside boy, he says 
I will take them with me 
I will take them to a place that will forever warm their hearts 
Forever...till eternity 
To hell 
Begone, you imp, I say to him
Begone, you flaming fool 
You see...
your voice isn't the only one that calls my name 
Look up, do you see him...I say 
It is his voice that I hear over yours each day
So begone, leave...you are not welcome inside my head
Begone, you poisonous parrot 
Begone 


Plucking The Poisonous Parrot Contest
Sponsor- Maureen McGreavy
1-19-2019

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