Best Grease Poems
she clarifies bacon grease
to make the popcorn
once it is in the bowl
add seasoning with butter
a tad of garlic, sea salt, sugar
the layers of flavor are a paradise
scattered in each morsel
this means a romantic movie tonight
probably one we have seen quite often
i never tire of this
holding her hand as she tears
with each tear, i fall in love again
she finds ways to make vegetables tempting
baked, fried, steamed, an array of seasoning
appetizers of soft cheese, celery, small sausages
while the cheese brings a subtle creamy softness
the celery mixes in fiber and mild juices
then assaulted by the piquant sausage
as it races upon my pallet
masticating this admixture
i become a contented bovine
mindlessly working the promised pasture
ruminating before i must surrender
heavens touch to the stomach
that precious smile she wears
watching that consuming ecstasy
as a soft moan of pleasure escapes me
they sit upon a thin elongated rectangular plate
which rests between two slim vases
one has a red rose, the other is pink
she never varies in that arrangement
red is her undying love for me
pink is her gratitude to God for our love
while colors never change
she will add different meanings at times
which she announces after grace
you are more than just a loving chef
you are the romantic that inspires me
you are the poet in the kitchen
whose depth lives within so many levels
i never tire of gazing upon her
she is the third rose at dinner
my Blue rose, the unobtainable
is obtained, the chimera realized
each bite i take is another sonnet
she has carefully crafted
in that enchanting cauldron
those soft moans escaping onto her smile
have become my book of best-loved poems
1/16/19 Kismet
Categories:
grease, devotion, i love you,
Form:
Romanticism
Coaxing
Words from limbo
Into life.
Slipping them from
The pocket of
Your muse, onto
Eager paper.
Lovely linen,
Thick with roses.
Or threaded with
Barb-wire.
Altar for the gentle
Blood of visionaries,
Mingled with axle grease
For sturdy wordsmiths
Eager to lay concrete verse
Lasting beyond time.
Categories:
grease, work, writing,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Grease Monkey Rainbows
by Odin Roark
How colorfully the reflective smears ignited the senses.
How sinuous the undulating slick remained forever permanent,
its unintentional abstracts made prescient.
Dank syrup of engines idle,
spilled upon aged concrete
where the mechanic beneath rusted warriors
drained yesterday's tensile stress,
fresh loading tomorrow's fluid to live.
How focused his oily footprints remain,
now aloft riding the escort of Valhalla,
gliding upon colors of other-world palettes,
yet remaining forever heroic,
forever indelible,
in a little boy’s perpetual memory.
Yesteryear’s ever present ether continues embracing,
bestowing a blinding courage for the senses to endure,
even as the buried vestige remains dark.
The smell revered.
The smooth touch esteemed.
The unbridled colors forever a reminder of love.
Diesel rainbows,
still rippling in this man-child’s quiet ebb.
Categories:
grease, father,
Form:
Free verse
The lollipop lady and laborer,
Driving to work we can see who it is.
In bright fluoro orange and yellow
Retro reflective people wearing high vis.
There’s vests and jackets and singlets and bibs,
Worn by these people like a fashion design.
Drivers of forklifts, bulldozers and utes,
For safety all day and night time.
Every worksite embraced this vogue of a trend
Begun years ago by a single fire fighter.
Years ago when people just wore normal stuff
But now we all appear brighter.
Call me old fashioned, I like normal work gear
Denim jeans, overalls or blue tops.
Covered in grease or mud you could see
They look good in the mechanic workshops.
But alas we live in an age where we’re blind
To what’s aesthetic, beautiful and nice.
Replaced with high intensive colors of vivid,
We evolved to walking flash lights.
Categories:
grease, clothes, color, fashion, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
Words are far from true.
They disguise.
Wise stain eyes until real is all you need, free from salty cries.
This language spoken, only speed bumps the weak for weeks.
Years multiply by division of fear postulating theorems we could never speak.
WE, the freaks, magical, lucid and fragile.
Agile.
And they say, "Yeah kid, ya' really figured it all out this time, haven't ya'?
Peddling your flocking art through highway streets intergalactic! Tough **** eh...
Pandering, shove it in, push it down, sandpaper hard. Oh yeah, yeah, yes kiddo of the hour, stacked and flaccid at the same god damned time. Look at your rhyme big guy, talk of the town, pull my finger, wear the crown, funky clown!"
I say:
"WHO IS THEM ANYWAY ANY DAY? Wear your prose go man, even if it dampens their day. WHO IS THEM? WHO IS THEY? Keep on that art, words down, write 'em if ya' gottem', and when they don't understand, comprehend, two middle fingers, watch 'em fly sky high, watch 'em pretend, see 'em bend...get yir' gleam, enjoy that grin. Let them do them man, you do you! Art is pure, Art is true, Art is YOU!"
One more tid-bit of truth...
If skimming through someone's poetry is yir' game,
ta' get plays,
cop-a-feel
steal love for your reel...
I say:
"Peace out! Keep the grease out!
Shift gears, peel.
Do something real, or...disappear... like David Copperfield."
Categories:
grease, art, baptism, beautiful, journey,
Form:
Carpe Diem
There was a little girl I knew
Whose smile so brightly grew
She listened to her Mom and Dad
Was always good and never bad
Once, she cleaned the oven interior
But, soon was feeling quite inferior
Her scrubbing and rubbing concluded
With her so sure she had been deluded
Nothing she did made the oven clean
Bringing its heart to such a great sheen
Finally, she asked her Mom for advice
Sure she’d take it no matter the price
Mom said, “Put some elbow grease in it”
So off she went to find the grime grit
It was only moments before she discovered
Her parents guffawing until they’d recovered
Make Me Laugh with Some Humor - Any Form - New Poems Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
November 23, 2020
This story happened back in the 70’s before there was any knowledge of a product called Elbow Grease
Categories:
grease, child, cute, funny, humor,
Form:
Couplet
the lackluster heart
is a careless companion
his tarnished love is a thin man with hungry eyes
loved only by her mad mad mind
with a clean beauty to her that shines
the sour bread is bitter wine
his own madness stifled his tongue
painting its masterpiece of literary eloquence in utter silence
a neon glitter mona lisa written for the ages
like a grease monkey supplicant for the siege engine that is his heart
the lackluster heart tinkers with his noble endeavour soul
seeking that sweet music perfection you see in all the magazines
hand in hand with the dream come true girl and her saltwater jewels
she is dragging sacks of christmas cheer
decorating the avenue with beautiful things
its that time of year
the lackluster heart is uninspired
but he's handsome and thats all that matters to her
Categories:
grease, beautiful, beauty, christmas, freedom,
Form:
Free verse
A thousand vents for blowing grease
the burger bleeds and trickles.
The stove tops way of frying meat
to sell their grease and pickles.
A greasy slab to clot your blood.
The hamburger's inflection.
A special sauce to fatten up
the liver from protection.
A heart attack to fear aloud
you come to feel the hurt.
Your senses blind to feeling pain
your swearing has to blurt.
A paramedic standing by
with paddles out to shock.
The ventilator turned on low
in case you start to gawk.
A hospital for calculating
service for your wealth.
but don't forget the morgue is there
and that could mean your health.
Categories:
grease, angst, body, death, food,
Form:
Quatrain
Some of those closest to me
are concerned my poetry
does not rhyme
every time.
I do not complain,
but try to explain
that total symmetry
is not important to me.
The meaning of a verse
is, for better or worse,
the point of a piece.
Rhymes are just grease.
Mental lubrication to let words slide by,
while I try
to impart a certain feeling,
repulsive or appealing.
This frees myself and my reader from the
tight restraint of what seems sing-song.
But maybe just this once,
I will kind of go along.
Categories:
grease, how i feel, poetry,
Form:
Rhyme
I tried to do some grilling
But the sky just opened up
And it rained like Noah’s time
Each raindrop filled a cup
I’m using here hyperbole
To make a point of rain
The grilling of the burgers
Could not even begin
So I used an indoor griddle
To heat the burgers through
It wasn’t quite that bad at all
I was trying something new
I think they were less healthy
Since they sat in their own grease
Where the grill would let it drizzle down
And all that’s left was meat!
Categories:
grease, food, hyperbole, rain,
Form:
Rhyme
laced with a goldensilver fleece,
lamented laboured listlessly luxurious
augmented segmented and critically curious...
I'd save penchant face
for solving this human's race
only to relieve said diatribe
and give you my release...
A liquid aquarian
the 'good samaritan',
an ardorous cantamorous belafusal
misconstrusial home run
Stan Musial
a San Frisco night
the ferry boat turns out its light
settles for canned heattunafish
while running with tao - kite,
and shot down in the street
I cried a creed, an upanishad
but chi had been burst, and to save the worst...
I had realized that I'd been had.
A camosol overthesoul
but One that can be seen, and reached
like willows wondously wavering
with beachwind, bare-assed and breeched
gates left open - ovened
my mitts hit the floor, got placed in a drawer,
again, the waxed floor, the constant bore...
like Haephestus in his forge
gold medals galore...
but No Where abhoriosly to Share!
Wear Peace butt In the Air!?
I begplead, pigbleed, flying pinkpunk elephants
with attitude 'Devil may care',
Sowhatnow with my "whatever"
sunday mornings.? what with cold coffee, warm tap water,
hot dates with golden earings?
what with incongruous mono-stereo-topis
what with asian peanut noodle kerplopis?!
I need to write a statute to an end
and lay It down
my friend,
to reconstruct amorphorillis
super-syllous and charybdis,
I
am lightening This fire
No One can accuse Me a liar,
for I've always had the goods
but not the correct buyer...
Categories:
grease, hope
Form:
Rhyme
We would talk all night
During the summer and winter
And we'd ignore our eyes begging
And our hands burning
And our cheeks shined
And our foreheads were grease beaches
And our skin was sand for the oceans of hair
And we never washed our faces
And we wrote crappy letters
Saying things we both knew
And we'd make each other cry
And we'd make each other laugh
And then
It was over.
Categories:
grease, break up, love,
Form:
Free verse
In this ever-changing world of entertainment any day
An artist could accomplish what he once thought
Was an impossible feat with a little elbow grease
And dedication you may gain a reputation
For being remarkable you'll see
With the right preparation there's no limitations
On who you could become but don't be dumb
With all of the money that you receive because
Bankruptcy comes in the blink of an eye
And You could become a where are they now rerun
Watching VH1 with a barrel in your mouth
Ready to decorate your couch with the back of your scalp
Because you're financially f*****
It's a Fickle industry That can give you everything
But take it away in a matter of days
Especially because
It's so incredibly hard to obtain longevity y'all definitely
shouldn't expect to be in the spotlight indefinitely trust
Fame is a flammable entity that many see go up in Flames
Yes it will eventually be gone
Having a rockstar mentality
Has the mortality rate around the same
Of an insane persons grasp on reality.... low
Don't go traveling Roads that rapidly
Lead you to the middle of nowhere don't go
Chasing that rabbit all the way down that gigantic hole there no
Because that rabbit is faster than any bastard
You've ever encountered and the chances
Of you catching his ass are below fair
& it's so rare i swear
That you're just better off
Staying at home there
Categories:
grease, dark, evil, passion, spoken
Form:
Rhyme
ANNIE ELISE REST IN PEACE DIED BY FISH GREASE
Rest in peace
Buried in this plot, Anna Elise
Occupation was fry cook
Died: burnt by hot-boil fish grease
9/18/18
Written by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2018
Categories:
grease, appreciation, bereavement, dedication, funeral,
Form:
Epitaph
My name should be Lucille.
I am that squeaky wheel.
If some things wrong I'll weigh it.
I'm not afraid to say it.
Some may not want to know her.
She's been a whistle blower.
I'm not a quiet bird.
My voice is always heard.
I'll never give you peace, so
just give me that grease.
Categories:
grease, voice,
Form:
Light Verse