Best Fork Poems
As you travel down life's path,
You never know what lies ahead,
What you may think is a smooth path,
Will be a rough journey instead,
Where obstacles may impede your way,
And make you to discouraged to go on,
But if you put your faith in God
He will show you a better way,
And if you come to a fork in the road,
You will have a chance to decide,
If you will stay on your present path,
Or let almighty God be your guide.
I can give a chick an option
And she'll pick the other path
Just to divide herself
Like she out here doing math
Calculating all the ways things can go bad
She don't understand happiness
Cause she's used to being sad
I grab her by the hand
And slightly stroke her on the face
Tell her I want to be her man
But to this touch, she can't relate
She stuck in the past
But we've all made mistakes
She think all I want is ass
But I'll work hard for 1st base
Just to round 2nd
After days of going on dates
I want to slide home
But for her, I have to wait
I'm ol skool baby
I do things a different way
Been retired my jersey
I ain't got no time for games
I love a good challenge
So I play to win
I'm trying to be your future
So my time, I present
Your beauty is a present
Let me bask your presence
I want you to be my woman
So let me be your man
Form:
In my travels among the roads of life,
I stumbled upon pathos, sadness and strife,
Sometimes I headed down the byway without a thought,
Not caring of the consequences and misdeeds which brought
Broken promises, hurtful words and lack of trust,
My soul cried out in despair dear Lord reach me if you must.
This spirit of mine was begging for a new life and a clear path to follow,
I prayed to Jesus on my knees to cleanse my soul of wallow,
Asking him to lead me to the passage of righteousness,
And that the despair was replaced by the light of blessedness,
It was a welcome beacon at the end of the rocky climb
For Jesus helped me shed the sins of grime.
I was led to the fork in the road by our Lord and His Son,
Showing me the direction of hope which had begun
A new lifetime to develop a bridge of spiritual strength,
Growing stronger each day and spanning the length
With a heart filled with faith, joy and blessed assurance
And knowing that the walk is guided by love and endurance.
Favorite Scripture: Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path.
Psalm 119:105
It was the best of tines; it was the worst of tines.
It lay, distraught, in silence on the road.
He came around the curve, saw it too late to swerve;
the puncture caused his front tire to explode.
A silver-plated fork, her lineage was perhaps York;
a heritage of which she’d long lost track.
Her dreams as ballerina, faded like her patina;
now, pits and scars festooned her neck and back.
Her mind played back her fall, the horror of it all;
despairing life, she hoped it would end soon.
At first, upon a dare, burlesque with the flatware,
to end in shame, pimped by a plastic spoon.
Not wanting to be saved, she’d crawled out on the paved,
and waited for the crush when all went flat.
But in that car’s careening, her life took on new meaning;
an unexpected blowout saw to that.
For there, just up ahead, a kitten, surely dead,
was spared as the man slammed upon the brake.
Once stopped, he now could see her mewling pitifully;
he gently scooped her up to calm her shake.
Then, trying not to swear, he wrestled with the spare
and stowed the blown-out tire in the boot.
That’s when he saw her, mangled, her tines all at odd angles,
a fork that placed them all upon this route.
And so with certain care, he also placed her there
beside the kitten, on the padded seat.
Now straightened out and polished, she watches York demolish
the breakfast that her tines scooped out to eat.
—————
for the Metrical Tale Poetry Contest
sponsored by Hilo Poet
written on 01/03/2022
The Fork In The Path
Where does this trail go?
Does it lead through meadows with gently flowing grass?
Flowers dancing in the warm breezes from distant mountains
Bees and birds flying among wispy clouds
With the scent of violet relaxes the mood of the land
Does it lead into a sunset where the daylight fades into night?
Stars fight to be seen in the dimming light
The chirping of birds is long gone
Replaced by the baying of wolves looking for a mate
Does it lead into the infinite darkness of night?
Only lit by the light of a billion distant stars
So faint that it remains a world without light or shadow
Sounds of a distant world break up the silence
An unseen choir of life and death
Where does this trail go?
Three forks coming from the path that life offers
All well-worn and all unmarked
There is no way to be certain which is correct
No way to do other than hope you choose the right one
Light or dark it is your choice to make
On your own
All alone
Just you and a fork on the path with a choice to make
PASTA: A FORK OF HEAVEN
In a pot of bubbling boiling water,
I drop hard nine inches long bundle of farfelles..
Minutes passed,between my fingertips,
I pressed one strand, al- dente!
In a platter glittering white,
I form a fist of fresh-cooked pasta noodles,
pouring a hot scoop of white
creamy silky sauce made from:
parmesan and pecorino
melted, blended in a saucepan,
flavored more with a savory stock,
tossed of shallots, saffron and lean meat.
The sauce must be rich enough
coating all the threads of farfelles...
Garnishing it with grated cheese,
teaspoonful crunchy diced bacon,
a pinch of chopped flat leaf parsley...
Voila! Who could refuse this tasty fork of heaven?
__________________________________________________
***farfelle - a type of pasta: thick and wide noodles
al -dente - a pasta noodle cooked all the way through except in the center being slightly undone
CONTEST name: DIDACTIC FOOD
~~3rd place~~
1:54pm, September 09, 2015
The Day Baklava Bent the Fork
By: Moji Agha
April 15, 2010
On this taxing day on Earth,
I finally saw with my own physical eyes,
in one hilariously sweet moment,
the sticky triumph of baklava over the fork.
The formerly cocky fork,
his erect ego bent,
finally learned what it means to be hard, or not.
The triumphant baklava, however,
wondered if age on a lonely shelf
hardens even the sweetest of the sweet.
I wonder:
Whether she also wondered, what it means to be tough
on this warming taxing day,
on this dying blue goblet: my Mother Earth?
Is my mother's sweet heavily taxed heart finally hardening?
Has she taken the fork in the road
that ends in hard, rather than sweet?
Or alas, was it that the soft-hearted fork
had no choice but to cry bent tears
mourning the death of softness
of sweet hearts?
I hear the wind of "what is" cry:
For whose out-of-balance baklavas and forks do the bells toll, especially today?
mixing words and rhyme , devote passion designed,
colors and shades blend , my vision I send ,a path
a mystic Irish presence , calming senses ,
whispers in ear to follow stay near, a path
all pain considered wisdom is delivered,
making the changes needed to live yet give, a path
past ,present, future fate, open the gate,
presently undecided the road divided, a path
the long destination refuse to show desperation, a path
my soul on fire my love desired, a path
poisoned bite evades
dividing overgrown blades
creek’s water cascades
I am lost in a tangled wood
Reaching for a rope like thread
Two fingers balancing
One, two, three….
Like ballerina legs
Gliding along the tendril floor
Inching forward, halted
By a knotty carrefour
The dense foliage
Throwing shadows around the cracks
Guiding God’s fingers
Illuminating the furcate tracks
A judgment, God or Heart…
Trust or regret…
One path forward
One path back
Someone caught a spoon in bed with a fork,
I assume that's why we now have the spork.
Let's hope they don't catch them with a knife,
Could you imagine a knoon or a fife?
New York, New York, the road in the fork
of the events, the places and folks who've buttered the pork
Like Rockefeller, Moynihan and Andrew Cuomo
Frank Sinatra, Louie Armstrong, John Lenon and Yoko Ono
Lenny Bernstein and Lenny Bruce
Cookie Monster, Rocky and Bullwinkle Moose
There's Radio City, Central Park and Carnegie Hall
Coney Island, Yankee Stadium -- Let's Play Ball!
The Brooklyn Bridge on the Hudson River
Lower East Side and the Village, for swingin' livers
Babe Ruth, Mickey Mantle and White Ford
Don't forget Casey Stengel and Yogi Berra -- Oh, my Lord!
Marilyn Monroe, Madonna and Phyllis Diller in curlers
Archie Bunker, the Meathead, Anne Meara and Jerry Stiller
Stooge-mania, West Side Story and Annie Hall
Kramden, Norton and the Honeymooners
You've seen or heard of 'em all
There's Madison Square Garden and the NY Philharmonic
The Times and Wall Street Journal -- news junkies tonics
Malcolm X, Dr. King, and Abe Saperstein
Julius Erving / Dr. J with a case of Afro-sheen
Baldies like Kojac and Yul Brynner, the King of Siam
Sam I Am, Son of Sam, Green Eggs and Ham
Harlem Globetrotters, the Apollo, Kareem Abdul Jabbar
Jay Leno, Ed McMahon and Johnny Carson, the great Jack Paar
There's Broadway, Times Square, Soho and Fifth Avenue
Isaac Stern, Pavoratti, Willie Nelson and Ray Charles singin' the blues ...
Make a list from the Statue of Liberty all the way up to Mars
~ You still might leave out a legacy of constellations and stars!
Now speak to me my heart and urge me forth
in marching beat my lungs to breathe the air;
too few the years contracted to a span
'ere time and days decline as sun set fair.
My swaddling now become a thinning shroud
a cloak for the great big gig in the sky;
what money may be clutched by lifeless hands
were it enough in Heaven my soul to buy.
Too late, too often, it was us and them
at odds with comrades ere the war begin;
any colour you like we’re all the same
beneath the crust all flesh is kith and kin.
Too late, my road led to delusions door
and beckoned my brain damaged 'ere the moon
reveal her hidden shade to howling wolf,
or there confess the secrets of the rune.
Our ending then we cannot hope to shape
and gaze not far at what you cannot see;
search not for light astern earth’s satellite
eclipsing her the Sun will valiant be.
( Domino Fork Headset is an anagram of Dark Side Of The Moon )
20th August 2015
that was worrying
but not surprising
for
who can
really tell who might leave
what in drawers
when
we move
home do we some
times not find strange objects
lurking
we moved
to a
new home
on saturday night
we locked the front door
my
wife
then asked me to check the cupboards
upstairs
"there might
be someone in one"
Jean strolled in the woods
She has done this often
This day she went further
Until she came to a fork
in the road
She stood there for hours
Deciding which way to go
Then settled to go back from
where she came
Just because she was not able
to determine which path
to take