Best Grits Poems
Out on the porch in the still morn
Looking at the foggy damp knoll
As I think about being reborn
And eat grits from the new soup bowl
Neighbor's roosters sing their morn's song
Fog's moisture down the Oak leaves roll
All seems right and we get along
And eat grits from the new soup bowl
All is not right many unrests
Wars and fightings many lost souls
Those sad thoughts burn within my breast
As I eat grits from the new soup bowl
What can I do and still exsist
And eat my grits from new soup bowl
Sunrise found the farmers waiting
at the grits mill by the stream.
With the sound of grinding corn,
neighbors worked as a team.
Sharecropping is just a memory...
No more tobacco to be strung~
Cottonpicking is now mechanical.
There is no redneck song to be sung.
I am a redneck and proud of it.
We are a special breed.
Don't get on our 'fighting side'.
We stand up for what we believe.
We buy syrup in a bottle.
The grits mill grinds no more.
Vegetables don't taste the same~
We buy them from a store.
No backache from picking cotton~
Hands aren't bleeding and sore.
The grits mill has crumbled
Times just aren't the same anymore...
*correct spelling-grist
*(Southern Pronunciation = grits)
the warmth of cheese grits
feels so downhome nice to me
when i take it in
to get a jump start
don't depart
its breakfull time
this makes day shine
I tell you too
its how its fixs
BEACON EGGS
AND GRITS
Miscalculated the opened door
Spilled those grits on the floor
Well some went on the cabinet top
Some went here and there and flop
These grits were uncooked see
Gritty and runny milky indeed
They went under the coffee keeper
All over the clean coffee steeper
When they finished running around
I thought that they was kin to one who bounds
Like a stud, a casanova everywhere
I didn't make a sound really I didn't make a sound
I could have but I bit my tongue
I held up the shield to my thoughts
I held them captive until my husband
Came in the room and I told him
Do not drop any water on the floor
i walked for miles with
a voice that smiles
humming off rays of my pass
in styles
starring down the road
which i've come from miles
drunk off the rum
my sound is loud as bass
from a drum
banging ockwardly
from my ears to thumb
snapping my fingers
the taste is yum
oh my the fun
chewing my grits like gum
skipping enjoying
my grits and rum
see this sign
get in line
its breakfull time
and the
taste is well fixs
EGGS BACON
AND GRITS
True Grits
When I was just a young man, I joined my nations forces
I was shipped to basic training and enrolled in some courses
Each morning they would march us up to the chow hall
Where we would get our breakfast and man they had it alll
One morning when I got in line, real hungry I did feel
So I got some eggs and bacon, and a big bowl of oatmeal
I sat down at a table across from a good ole Georgia boy
I still can see him to this day, I think his name was Roy
I grabbed some milk and sugar and poured them in my bowl
He just sat there and watched me like I'd just stepped on his soul
He took some salt and butter, to his bowl he added it
I just sat there and watched him, that combination did not fit
I finally said "you know my friend, that's really quite a deal"
"I've never seen salt and butter put on top of hot oatmeal"
He looked at me a moment, then in a lazy drawl
Said "Where I come from buddy, it's not strange at all"
"But I saw what you just did which I think is the pits"
"Putting milk and sugar on that nice bowl of grits"
Oh, you don't like the things I have to say, well okay, just go ahead and kiss my grits!
Alabama native Polly Holliday portrayed Flo, a sassy waitress on the TV show "Alice," in the late 1970s. She coined the phrase "Kiss my grits!" ~Wikipedia
its a taste
don't go to waste
its goal
and its soul
food from the old
you will reload
its good
well under stood
its how its fixe
GRIT BACON AND BUSTIC
(THIS IS A FICTIONAL POEM)
I'm angry and I'm about to have a fit.
I'm going to divorce my wife if she serves anymore grits.
She thinks I won't do anything because she has sass.
But if I get anymore grits, I'll put my foot up her ass.
When I married her, I was nothing but a stupid chump.
If she serves grits again, I'll have to get my stomach pumped.
She serves grits for breakfast, lunch and even for dinner.
When I look at my marriage certificate, I know I'm no winner.
I do not want anymore grits and I don't care if I'm rash.
If I get grits just once more, I'll throw her out with the trash.
He calls me baby
and you would think
he gave me pearls or something
I am so sweet on him
that slice bread is good with his toe jam
Yes I am wearing rose colored glasses
for he sweet to me like molasses
When I am in the store
Want to buy sexy stuff
You know the kind that will make him break his neck
Looking at what he bout to get
Wrong yes he can do wrong
But then the radio plays our song
And I’m melted like butter on grits by his kiss
I call him sweetie cause he easy and be cheesy
When I look him in his eyes intense like
Imma ride this wave till it is time to face new music.
But for now they playing our song.
when its hot
you pull up the cot
its breakfull time
big meal meal in mind
if well fixs
nuthin like it
BACON PANCAKES AHD
GRITS
my rout
from the south
its hooking
have down
small town cooking
the smell
rings abell
love the way
it fixs
I LOVE
GRITS
Dead folks in my hood.
I just watch Netflix and keep
my shades down.
Hoping I don't get killed.
I pray to the Lord!
And in the dark night,
bullets fly past my window.
Kinda makes me frown!
(* this is not about me*)
Panagiota Fomios
August 10, 2019
8pm PST