Best Foodstuff Poems
^she_
^she_ had a love/hate relationship with food
she only fed with her eyes,
i was a sparkless firecracker
and spoke English like i hated it.
not the least bit compatible
in any department
at any hour on any menu
she wouldn't even drink the water.
I would slip through the cracks
should she stop staring at me
up and down her beautiful 'it is'
she lit an incense and i was ignited.
i offered up an apple
a yellow delicious manifested
i peeled it for her
but she wouldn't taste it.
i laid eyes on her lips
kissed with dark secrets
an awakening of insects
with equal day and night.
She ate me with her eyes
clear, bright, ripe
it rained on the fruit
and i took a bite.
I spoke to the grain in her ear
i had so much to say
succulent was my speech
She took it all in.
potash, stolen, honey and rye
sup the festal dish don't cry
she had parted the thin line
between a want and it's fill.
I lapsed into that petri-dish
pierced by her green staring
Her warm glassy ogling
all up and down my countenance.
Nourished of palate perception
She relished on her diet.
I indulged as her entrée
feasting her with my gaze.
It would take a while
like a gala supper without wine.
^she_ would have no seconds
no weakness for flavor of the same.
well fed and fed up
she checked me out
her unusual hunger
gave me best regards
No repeats nor duplicates since
such foodstuff is most uncommon
Her daily bread was nurtured
with the edibles of my mind.
The End.
morning by the hill
ants with foodstuff walk in line -
the sun shines all day
7th Place - Traditional Haiku II
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
*This is a repost, the original of which I have inadvertently deleted while trying to delete a double posting, hence it no longer appears in the winner's list. Posting again today in view of Viv Wigley's blog, Old Friends.
**I tried to see if the deleted file can still be retrieved by PoetrySoup but after sometime, they replied that they can't. This is the link to the old post where only the comments remain: http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/summer_job_685960
image credit: thumbs.dreamstime.com
My Bothers and Sisters
(Street Kids)
We grow up in public landfills, train stations,
under the bridges of towns,
victims of all kinds of abuse, but we still had rights…
because of conflicts with our relatives,
we did not want to return to families.
The public is unfair towards us;
they regard us as street kids and a danger to society.
They also label us 'thieves ', 'dagga smokers ', 'glue sniffers '
and 'alcohol abusers ',
while they have no idea who we are."
We lack the basic necessities of foodstuff,
health care and a safe place to stay.
We eat unhealthy foods such as ice cream, cakes, etc.
known as vagrants, rag-pickers and glue-sniffers
and blot out the violence we faces on a daily basis.
we share the same name- street kids.
It is painful to be called 'a street kid'
when we are not responsible for our situations.
Yes, some of us ran away from home,
but others like me are orphans,
and our relatives are not prepared to live with us.
They laugh at us as we ate food from the dust bin,
we are often dirty and infested with fleas.
We are felt stigmatised,
homeless, hungry and abused,
surviving by begging, finding odd jobs,
scavenging rubbish sites, or prostitution.
We had huge suffering, we are abandoned...
going to the streets is an act of despair.
We are not only homeless or roofless,
but we are also culturally rootless.
clothe crop-dusted with dirt and orange crumbs,
as are our shorts, shoes, hair, faces.
Our hair is still damp with perspiration,
and beads of sweat streaked little paths
in the dirt on the sides of his face.
Frogs’ legs
French cuisine fad
Amphibians hopping mad
Shish kebabs
Cubed lamb chislic
Served on toothpick
Pizzas
Flatbread Italian feast
Waist measurement increased
Bird’s nest soup
Rare Chinese foodstuff
Swiftlets sleeping rough
Mexican wraps
Spicy chicken fajitas
Hot as senoritas
Seafood paella
Shrimp, lobster, cuttlefish
Saporous Valencian dish
Maple syrup
Canadians tree tap
Sticky sweet sap
Digestif
After dinner drink
Brandy glasses clink
17/09/18
'six-word couplet poetry contest' : Sponsored by: Mark Toney
Morning drizzle
Skyline looks teary;
Jogging feet struggle
~~~~~~~~~
New penthouse suite
By midtown place;
Blessings of peace
~~~~~~~~~
Time moves swiftly
Flying away;
Seize interlude
~~~~~~~~~
Small talk empties
Chit-chat delays;
Time oozes fast
~~~~~~~~~
Two black birds
Morning choral;
Balcony duet
~~~~~~~~~
Tropical heatwave
Humid sticky sweat;
Air-con relief
~~~~~~~~~
Mall sales boomerangs
Petty touting;
Urgent campaign
~~~~~~~~~~
Toy dog runs barking
Pink hair dye;
Same as lady master
~~~~~~~~~~
Childcare kids
Sing-song repetition;
Old nursery rhymes
~~~~~~~~~
Fragments of writes
Verse lines on-the-fly;
Haiku mood swing
~~~~~~~~~
Shopping lists
Foodstuff to buy;
Procure satisfaction
~~~~~~~~~
Time beyond
Chance upon;
Space now on
~~~~~~~~~
Mailbox full
Nobody's home;
Other matters call
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
10 July 2016
Singapore
A contest of word lists - the subject of winter
Make up a good poem - then send to the printer
But nothing says nothing 'bout giving a twist
By splitting and sageing - might get a slapped wrist
Digging for riches but finding a fossil
Verbosely scream curses and break the left tonsil
Brand Google spelt badly - the word is googol
Do wordsmith pedantics abuse alcohol
Outdoor camp fires all start from a spark
Lingering light ships on oceans of dark
Political, cynical, critical flak
Essentially yakity yak-yak yak-yak
Key "here key" right here into Google translate
Gives French "ici clé" phrase - without a mistake
Out of date foodstuff upsets the midriff
Tsunami of turd quakes - unwise to sniff sniff
Bumblebees, hornets, the much hated wasp
Adequate hostiles - so don't make them cross
So maybe this verse neither winter nor cold
The task has been questioned, the poetry's holed
But maybe this contest's not held by hijackers
Print out the rhyme pairs for jokes Christmas crackers
Entry for "a winter poem" contest - uses words (sort of): silver, gold, sparkling, flakes, icicles, drifts, spades - 30th November 2016
black arms of the bat
looking for the dark foodstuff
replenishing love
There one very peculiar foodstuff
that puts a sour crook in my mouth
It’s that stringy don’t-give-me-any-of,
two thumbs down for the sauerkraut
Just the awful smell of it makes me sick,
has me running out of the house so quick
When my nose whiff this jar of pain opening,
that chef in the kitchen no longer’s my friend
That pickled odor is an aroma of pure disgust,
makes a beautiful snooz look like a pig snout
Upheaval of my belly contents is a queasy must:
Gotta give sauerkraut the food hate shout out!
Poetry Contest: My Blue Cheese
Sponsored by: Kevin Shaw
Date Submitted: 1-13-18
He lives in the hole and hidden places ,
Devouring foodstuff and books in cases ,
He tries to escape the cat
But falls into trap on mat ,
Which makes the old rat to see dead faces .
8-31-2018
‘Eak - corncrush jam again for tea,’ he said,
And pulled a face of utter dread.
‘You know I’d rather have a dozen things.
‘No other teatime foodstuff brings
‘Me down - and I don’t even want a gram
‘Of yucky, nasty corncrush jam.’
Eak - corncrush jam - Jack Marcus Horne
The strongest flour
The oil, the yeast
Combined in love
Before the feast
Salt
From Celtic shores afar
With waters warmed
The ideal spar
For microbes'
Fertive final frenzy
The rising feeds
Much foodstuff envy
More patience
As to final hours
The mixture blooms
While hope devours
The prospect of
Eternal life
Once oven baked
With heat and strife
To crusty beauty
Rich and soft
The father proud
To hold aloft
Before
Serrated sacrifice
To eager lips
From buttered knife
A gift from God
This golden leaven
Food for the soul
A slice of heaven
Cast Away And Close
Cast away on an island surrounded by seas far apart from
my soul mate and lover I am now viciously dependent alone
independent in solitude for a day years or forever or not
Connection I need and therefore I would want my ~ ‘Mind’ ~
to not have been knocked out when the mast of the vessel
collapsed on my scull when dehydration set in coming to shore
Without healthy senses I would die in recluse could not overcome
contused bones and bruised Self a squashed heart punctured lung
had no way to recover in view of starvation of tummy and soul
In itself this required ~ ‘Fortuity’ ~ the luck of the draw when the storms
arrested my journey condemned me to change my perception of
retreating into myself while I searched for some foodstuff and water
Without the grace of good fortune thanking well meaning stars the
Universe or some Goddess in gratitude would be bereft of thanks and
of meaning since in that case my life and reality had ceased to exist
Healthy reason and feeling saved by good luck and some tatters of judgement
would complete my kit of survival when combined with ~ ‘Hope’ ~ the
for ongoing search for meaning my plans evolution and dreams
Otherwise dead in the water and my longing stuck in the sands of
crusted time and oblivion the crystals of being any re-writing
of future and belonging once more would lie shattered and crushed
Me on that island and my story narration in such troubling challenge
facing trial and summons tests of my strength and acceptance
would be futile and senseless without
~ Fortitude and hope in my Mind ~
29th November 2016
Time Is Never Enough
Sunset must be time
chores may surcease
For the day's grime
to clean or release.
Industry has a knack
to outdo surcease
Workers back to back
daily bask in grease.
Time is not enough!
**
Time is never enough
to preach and achieve
Puller of sin's plough
to free and to believe.
Time is never enough
to work and succeed
To earn enough dough
and abandon greed.
Time is never enough
Friendship to find
Grudge to openly bluff
Hate to leave behind.
Time is never enough
Child to rightly raise
To fear Sin and the Rod
God to vaunt or praise.
Time is never enough
to love my own mother
Fully and not by half,
Not disdain or smother.
Time is never enough
books to buy and read,
Quaff all the crafty stuff
Wisdom to fill my head.
Time is never enough
to learn cultures new
To enjoy and to laugh
at Life's amazing clue!
Time is never enough
though not a gourmand
To taste every foodstuff;
drinks and every brand.
**
I need enough time
enough time to travel
immerse in a new clime
intricacies to unravel.
...Time to understand
meaning of Life's time
That, whilst at hand
why not enjoy its clime!
Endow me, therefore,
with time and space
To search and explore
Life and Nature's face.
For, Time is not enough
to waste its time
But, what is enough
is time to "use" its time!
30th Sept' 2013
Sunday makes time
For certain bliss;
Jazz stirs new rhymes,
Plain that and this.
Market trip calls
To stock up food;
Brisk walk finds stalls,
Buy sundry goods.
Fresh meat and fish,
Shrimps and sea catch;
Thoughts of fine dish,
A gourmet match.
I grab foodstuff,
Speed home quickly;
The load feels tough,
My steps weary.
The humid heat
And windless road
Conspire to beat
My awkward load.
Stop by a shop
For Sunday Times;
A paper hop
To bag news chimes.
Now stride for stride,
I struggle back;
No time to glide
In easy slack.
Mere minutes stretch
A half mile walk;
Oomph holds the catch
In fine self-talk.
The winding road
Greets my footfalls;
Hands juggle load,
By ancient walls.
Leon Enriquez
26 October 2014
Singapore
Certified vegan;
Non-GMO Project Verified;
Free of dairy, lactose, soy, and gluten.
The consistency of vanilla
creamy and luxurious,
without a speck of iciness,
yet not overly heavy.
The flavor rich
with notable burst of sweet vanilla.
Said comestible insanely versatile
and will surely be a go to dairy-free ice cream.
Sold at LIDL, and other sites
ourselves former first time taste testers
erred on the side of caution
and bought in quantity
courtesy the missus foresight,
who now deems said food product
more precious than fine spun gold.
Pint size container only ample enough
to buzzfeed temporary craving,
yet invariably whets appetite
(to the power of googleplex)
for insatiable consumption,
thus one must thwart willpower
and surrender tastebuds to devour
one after another 473 milliliters
or more familiarly 16 ounces.
No matter yours truly could consume
aforementioned dessert
for breakfast, lunch, and supper,
the novelty to savor said special treat
would remain as intact
and robust as if one tasted
SO DELICIOUS product for first time.
I never tire scooping out
one after another spoonful
and slowly lick globule
(even when marginally hungry)
relishing each tongueful lickety split
steeling myself against
aggressive depredations of wife
before she ferociously lunges
toward me in a futile attempt
to wrest delectable mouthwatering
(just a hairbreadth of being decadent)
foodstuff guaranteeing happy shiny tummy.
Go ahead indulge sweet tooth
or even if toothless
the culinary quasi oral pleasure
can still be experienced.