Best Meal Poems
If I were a prisoner on death row
just hours away from execution
I would NOT order a meal of calamari with ratatouille,
filet mignon with truffles and Strawberry Sherbet.
I would reject a plate of Duck Liver Terrine with Confit Quail
garnished by Baby Leeks and Porcini mushrooms.
I would sneer at Saskatoon berries and Niagara peaches
dripping in lavender honey and maple syrup.
Peking duck, Scottish kippers, caviar, abalone
Siberian meat dumplings and escargot
washed down with a fruity chardonnay and a supple merlot
would not be of interest to me.
I’d insist on a baked Russet potato
freshly picked from an Idaho organic farm
topped off with Schuler bar cheese and sour cream
and washed down with Martinelli’s sparkling cider.
In my final moments I’d reflect on how Luther Burbank
began with the seeds of an Early Rose potato plant
and worked for years to breed the awesome tuber
that has come to be called the Idaho Baker.
And I’d feel sad as I meditated on how
the brilliant but impoverished Burbank
had to sell his tater masterpiece to a tycoon
named J H Gregory for $150!
For forty years the world’s potato scientists
(and yes, there are such people)
have worked to improve the Idaho Russet
and have failed to find a serious contender.
When I’m finally executed for my crimes of inanity
and ascend to the ‘Heaven for the Misunderstood’
I’ll dine on the manna from planet Earth,
the humble but delectable Burbank Russet potato.
I can't wait to unwrap it
The tasty nuggets
The smell, I gotta have it
The greasy hot fries
Box bursting with joy
Oh my gosh
Toy!
April 29th (re-entry)
your hand brushing mine
those long smoldering glances. . . .
my appetizer
the taste of your mouth
a smorgasbord of kisses. . . .
the scrumptious main course
the perfect climax
sweet like death by chocolate. . . .
our luscious dessert
Written Jan. 26, 2012 for Francine Robert's
Romantic Senryu Contest Poetry Contest
Birds in midheaven flying all around
Soaring high then gliding down
Gazing with hunger upon the town
Instinctively knowing up from down
Observing unbridled spiritual breakdown
White horse and rider with august kingly crown,
Bright white, bloodstained flowing gown
To all birds an invitation did righteously resound
A great feast of kings and commanders showdown
A feast of strong and great after the takedown.
Birds in midheaven flying all around
Soaring high then gliding down
Pleasing the rider of supreme renown
Gazing with hunger upon each town
Great Evening Meal's final countdown
you won;t too
its hard to do
you eaten alot
our boby passion hot
it real deal
and work out no doudt
have
SEX AFTER MEALS
Out in the field is a bed of chicory,
down along the ditch, wild hydrangeas grow.
Dandelions in the yard are quite tasty,
so is the duckweed by the side of the road.
Wild lettuce, lamb’s quarter, and some wild onions,
there’s watercress, fennel, grape leaves, and cherries.
We also have mallow, milkweeds, oxtails, chives,
Chanterelle mushrooms, morels, and blackberries.
Along with sassafras, raspberries, and more,
you’ll have a lunch that will make your stomach sing.
God bless all of nature’s wonderful bounty,
providing an Ozark meal fit for a king.
She walked down to the supermarket
To buy the ingredients to make him a special meal
A lamb roast was his favourite
Followed by apple pie and custard to seal the deal
She cooked away happily
Looking forward to his arrival home
The table set perfectly with a vase of coloured flowers
From her garden she had grown
He must of been held up at work ,she thought
As hours rolled by …. late afternoon turning to night
She sat in complete darkness at the kitchen table
Tears rolling down her cheeks as realisation came to light
He was not coming home tonight or any night
For he had passed many years before
Her silent tears turned to gut wrenching sobs
As reality ripped out her heart and she fell to the floor
If it were not for the pork and black eyed peas
My husband would not be eating this meal with me
I love my pork and sauerkraut for our New Year good
luck meal
Hubbie hates kraut and would take bad luck that is
just the way he feels
I will have the kraut and him the black eyed peas
Then he will share in the good luck meal with me
Lines Composed at a Mid-day Meal
To stare in ambivalence
At all things
Is to be in reverence
Of all the small things
Like what a child brings
For, like a bird visiting upon my door
My sweet adoring child
Sings only of his joy for all.
After all, that is what love is for.
When children come to call.
Black-Eyed Peas for New Year’s Meal
Black-Eyed Peas
Black-Eyed Peas
I’m going to freeze
If I don’t eat Black-eyed peas
On New Year’s Day
Black-Eyed Peas
Black-Eyed Peas
Gee Whiz please!
Gotta have those Black-eyed peas
Mammy and Pappy always
Said, “Eat Black-eyed peas
And you will have plenty of monies
The rest of the year and live in ease.”
Black-Eyed Peas
Black-Eyed Peas
Play a little ditty while cooking those
Black-eyed peas
Cook them with bacon, or ham bones
Fatback or hog jowls
Serve with a
Side of collard, turnip, or mustard greens
And golden brown sweet cornbread please
Black-Eyed Peas
Black-Eyed Peas
Mammy and Pappy always
Said, “You can live with a little passing gas
On New Year’s Day
To enjoy having plenty of monies
The rest of the year and live in ease.”
Black-Eyed Peas
Black-Eyed Peas
I’m going to freeze
If I don’t eat Black-eyed peas
On New Year’s Day
12/29/2016
Scraps in rusted trash
Scent the air with misery
Clutching his pink slip
05/09/13
10:21 pm
I pounded, pounded, pounded, not in that rock
on pop gun sort of way, with a tinge of smoke
after the sudden spark, keeping me well amused,
but in that bam, bam, bam, meat squishing
and flying in tiny bits so you wonder if everything
remains sterile way that the Flintstones would have liked
And the Italians, too, dousing it with lemon
And wine until you see stars as you wobble
And pucker up for the kiss, that comes or not,
And that is always the way it begins, with elbow
Grease, tastes offered to any taker, welcome smiles
and songs and company, and then the luck
shows up, smelling faintly of singed cabbage, turn-about elbow
noodles dangle from their lip and the heady sense
that you were there that day, all aware. And life made good
your meal of effort by offering a swallow of champagne.
Crudités, fresh, piled high and swaggering
From the market, bought this evening.
Thrusting carrots, earth still clinging,
Crisp cos, perky peppers, piquant roquette,
Rude red radishes, cucumber firm,
All in cool clear water washed,
Droplets sparkling on their surface.
Want to dip them in my hummus?
Temptresses teasing, to whet the appetite:
Oval curves unending, singing:
“Start with me”. Oeufs en cocotte,
Yellow yolked white winking coquettes,
Lovely lazy daisies, out of work, hors d’oeuvres,
Swoon to my eager spoon.
Taking a breath, your mouth’s alluring smile,
Eyes meet, hands connect,
Hot and cold shivers thrill.
An amuse-bouche:
Burning ginger flavours a cool sorbet.
How d’you like your steak, sir?
Rare, seared, visceral, red,
Caressed with oyster mushrooms wild,
Crushed peppercorns, randy brandy
Added accents to saucily seduce the palate,
Juliennes strewn prettily around the rim.
Velvet to the tongue,
Come, taste my peaches,
As moist flesh yields sweet warm juices
Merging flavours with wanton,
Whipped, drifting, dreamy, creamy domes.
Stimulation of the mocha and the mysore beans
Offering their perfume to enchant the air
As we sip, laugh, talk and glance,
Flirt, flirt and flirt.
GOOD LUCK MEAL
Hog jowl fried so crispy brown
Black eyed peas abound
Collard greens from the truck patch
Sweet tea down the hatch
Candied yams as well
My, do tell
YUM!!
Curtis Moorman
21 December 2011
For Russell Siver's contest
Chipmunks roasting on an open fire,
It takes 10 to make a meal.
Grab one by the tail,
Drop him into the pan...
You can hear the little fella squeal.
A little teriyaki kills that gamey taste.
On a bed of brown rice, they're so good.
Cranberries on the side,
Open your mouth wide,
You'll want to eat more chipmunks...and you should.
Chipmunks are endangered,
but who really cares?
When they're gone, they're gone, I guess.
Even tho' there's not much meat,
They're so tasty and easy to eat
And preparation doesn't make a big mess.
So, just before Christmas, go trap a few,
Enough for you and all your friends.
Think how good your friends will feel
Eating such a good meal;
They'll be sad when Christmas dinner ends.
Merry Christmas, Alvin.