Best Palates Poems
Words in italic by Angeline Lim
Words in regular font by Timothy Hicks
Hydrangea blues
blooming in seven colors
versatile at heart
Storm clouds in a tantrum and yet
the rainbow
Gently wipes away a facade
reveals a layer
hidden within
Pretty just like yesterday
red-hot pokers
Playing fireworks
on lovers' palates
scintillating senses
The shared spaghetti noodle
growing shorter
Sunlight fading
into a sweet dream
aromatic Osmanthus
'tween the slits of enclosed fingers
flashes of a firefly
Smolders of passion
unfolding within
Chrysanthemum mysteries
Instead of the bee
her tender touch
Frozen fixture
all the yellow once in the field
now in the moon
Aesthetic display
of a crystallized Rose quartz
The snowy hills
at this time a strange warmth
morning blush
Purplish Crocuses
pop their cheerful heads up kisses blown
Thinking himself
to be King Arthur
startled butterflies
Surprised Tulips
opening lips with an exclamation
August heat!
there goes the evidence
of the snail
Spiraling down a Corkscrew vine
into a time portal
P.S. Haven't been on lately ... hope all is well with everyone :)
Categories:
palates, appreciation, beauty, flower, image,
Form:
Rengay
French Bread
Your index finger
draws figure-eights
in the dusting of flour
on the counter top
where you lean
quite casually,
watching as I make
a loaf of French bread.
Then, laughing a bit,
you insert your powdery finger
into my right ear.
I’m startled...
I was so very focused
on assembling ingredients
that I wasn’t aware
of my surroundings,
at least not enough to see
your finger inching its way
toward me. I laugh too,
realizing the intimacy
of your floured finger.
Somehow,
I don’t believe
your interest is in my baking,
but I proceed on to
proofing the yeast
in warm water,
watching carefully
for the always-shocking
bloom’s suggestion
of the possible,
our palates fine-tuned
to the perfume
of earth and damp places.
Thus begins the slow tango
of dryness becoming wet,
a touch of salt-taste,
elements bound together
by the slippery
until there is inseparable oneness,
deep warmth in the joining,
the inevitable rising,
swelling seeking relief.
But not yet, oh no...
First there must be a pause,
a relaxation of the engorged,
consummation delayed,
then the pressure of my hands,
pressing-on,
pressing and shaping and pressing.
We sip our wine,
talk quietly, anticipating
the inevitable increase,
saying between us,
“We’re ready for the final phase:
the heat that binds,
coalesces the disparate ingredients,
yielding at last to the
inevitable delectable finish.”
Later, cooling as it always must,
we can’t resist
nibbling still-warm bits
dipped in melted butter,
feeding them to each other,
transcending words,
finding new ways of seeing
one another.
Written November 23, 2013
for Charlotte’s Scorchers.
Categories:
palates, sensual,
Form:
Free verse
He writes to me in curly cues painting
fractals on pressed paper made of rice.
Shreds of simple stalks are beaten to
bare the smoothness of his script.
We have not known each other long
but we have known each other since
man first made fire, the poet and his
muse. His presentation fascinates
with swirls of brush or indian ink
he strokes, both deep and long,
with pleasant pressure most often.
His words though highbrow smack
of pent passions, watering palates
and earthy scents. The wanting so sweet
no reality could fill the expanse, the
oceans of prose, the mountains which
jut provocatively, daring, inviting, the cleats
of man, use pinion and hammer triumphantly
upon the bounty of breast, the thigh of night
the whimper of dawn. Poet preen for your muse
Caress the unsullied parchment whiteness
in the hollow of my neck.
First Published in Pyrokinection May 2013
Categories:
palates, muse,
Form:
Free verse
Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it
be salted? It is henceforth cast out, and to be trodden under foot of men. Matthew
5:13 KJV
In ancient history, salt was sought and bartered. In some places it was carried by
camels across scorching deserts such as in West Africa where eager merchants
traded it to waiting customers. Salt was used for money in some places, thus giving
us the word salary.
Today salt is used for many purposes, stocked in grocery stores, and is available on
virtually every table.
We use it medicinally, and blocks of salt satisfy cattle’s craving. Salt in water raises
the boiling point, yet salt melts ice. Put salt on meat and it preserves it. Leave salt
off the table and your appetite leaves with it. But too much salt is harmful. It makes
your feet and legs swell and too much is hard on the heart.
Examine one grain of salt under a microscope and note its cube shape. Its sides
are made of two elements, sodium and chlorine. These combine to form sodium
chloride – salt.
Imagine soldiers in a tug of war. An ion of chlorine glares from one corner at a
sodium ion guarding the opposite side. As crystallization occurs the chlorine wins in
the stare-down. Sodium surrenders its single valence electron to chlorine and
together they become sodium chloride. Consider it in verse:
Salty Sentinels
Sodium ions stable,
assembled on the table,
salivating palates crave.
Chlorine ions tiny,
mustering soldiers briny,
guarding corners brave.
Sodium chlorine making,
crystal shakers shaking
cubes so salty white.
Ever fighting blandness;
vectors adding grandness,
enhance the appetite!
There is no wonder Jesus used salt as an example to the disciples in his Sermon on
the Mount. He exhorts Christians to have salt in themselves and have peace with
one another. See Mark 9:50
Categories:
palates, nature
Form:
Narrative
The lowly turnip
Earthy, fleshy
Roots falling from its eyes
Fed to livestock
One of God’s root crops
Yet deemed untasty
By most palates
Carrots and potatoes
Receive accolades
Carrots in orange party dress
So crunchy and sweet
Fit in the school child’s lunch box
Potatoes in russet brown
Mashed, fried and frittered
Prized alongside McDonalds and Kentucky Fried
Do not despair, my friend,
Not all root crops
Are valued similarly
Said the rutabaga disparagingly
Categories:
palates, judgement, silly,
Form:
Limerick
Cardboard boxes, full of surprises;
celebratory treasures rest,
beneath the evergreen branches;
stacks of color.
Bellies smiling, hiding
delectable, culinary delights.
My child-heart swells with joy,
while palates dance a waltz.
Emotion rides on clouds of serotonin.
Christmas builds
another miraculous memory
and the old year, ends with elation.
My taste buds are sent sailing on a warm sea,
of cocoa and cinnamon spice.
Categories:
palates, christmas, holiday, poems, poetry,
Form:
Prose
Even though you may not be looking, always believe that love is cooking.Quote - Poet’s own
Bake love each day the whole of your life
Mixed with fervour and all kinds of spice
Everything you've ever hungered for
Hopes, dreams, wishes and all you adore.
Stir in measureless ardent passion
Sprinkle on top some sweet compassion
Simmer slowly on the lowest heat
‘Til your heartbeats are on the increase.
Then turn the temperature way up
Whilst drinking wine from the loving cup
Prepare the aura ready to eat
Soft music, dim lights during the feast.
Tempt palates with a special delight
Of afters that please the appetite
Just as we need food so we may live
We’re all in need of love to exist.
I hope you will test my recipe
It truly has done wonders for me.
Categories:
palates, analogy, love,
Form:
Rhyme
Surfing the web is an imperfect science
Putting the screws to each steadfast alliance
And while it is far from flawless, too
This "Poetry Soup" is a hot, tasty stew
Slow-cooked, spicy, and savory-laced
It's rife with flavors, (just add to taste)
Seasoned with wit and a whimsy, wry
The finest that poetic license can buy
All discerning palates will find a repast
With poetic relish from each wond'rous caste
Prime prose to chew on, served up and plated
To make sure your hunger is properly sated
Be it sugary, sour or tart piquant zest
With ripe wordy fare we're cooking our best
We've lyrics and ballads and sonnets galore
Grand banquets of verse from table-to-floor
A bit of the bitter, our melancholy blurts
Yet sweeter-than-sweet are our just desserts
So give us a taste, I think you'll agree
That this "Poetry Soup" is a bowl of esprit
And should we e'er suffer for poetic cream
Don't fret, there's no limit to what we can dream!
~ 4th Place ~ in the "A-Muse-Sing" Poetry Contest, Richard Lamoureux, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories:
palates, appreciation, poetry,
Form:
Couplet
Cheese lovers possess
Dancing palates, tapping taste buds
And smiles…joyous cheese!
Categories:
palates, food, fun, imagery,
Form:
Senryu
Water lapping at edge of the boat beneath the silence of the sky
Swaying branches of mopane trees and fish eagles cry
Wind of changing seasons and melting palates of hue
in the blood red sunset glow and murky silvery water blue
Elephants in numbers dot the shores
hippo’s and crocodiles are at the core
of many memories and visions of old
Lake Kariba, in land sea
full of tiger fish and bream
The endless blue that roles into the distance
where the sun rises and falls in panoramic vista
The skeletons of petrified monuments scattered in the sea
forests of pre historic trees swaying in the breeze
It wasn’t always peaceful, tranquil, and still
nature has no chance to relax and withdraw
Scheming and dreaming in the depths of men’s mind
Up Up Up goes the building and climbs
Man made dam, Damn big problem
How could this feet of engineering the power of ages old be so easy
to tame such a wild beast as the zambezi
POURING OUT THE CONCERT
RAMMING THE RODS OF STEEL
DRIVING THE WATER BACK INTO THE HILLS
HOWEVER, THE RIVER REFUSED TO YEILD
THE WALL BEGAN TO TIP, BUCKLE, AND KEEL
NOT ONCE, TWICE, WATER MARCHED THROUGH
LIKE A FACELESS WARRIORS, DESTROYING THE BARRIER
THE FORCE OF THE RIVER WOULD NOT BE SUBDUED
LIKE ALL NATURAL EVENTS, THE WAVES BEGAN TO SUBSIDE
THE SOLDIERS OF BLUE WITHDREW
UP WENT THE WALL, COMPLETED, IT WAS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME
Animals and people lost in the rising tide
from river, to dam, to lake to inland sea
Great and panoramic became the horizon wide
Like a whisper on the edge of wind
was a grand concert of ages gone by
Played out by wildlife, land, water, and sky
A harmonic existence of sublime serenity
Life here brings closure to one’s perspective
the sent of dust and adventure is quiet infective
The place of the skeleton trees, mountain passes, and copper sun still
where the stars in the universe, scatterings like lost thoughts, visions, and chants chill
across the forging path, that strides through this african wilderness blue
Lake Kariba, the artery of the north, run straight, run true.
Categories:
palates, adventure, beauty, inspirational, life,
Form:
Blank verse
Lucky Dip (cut-out poem)
_____________________
fish
for a
bargain
affordable
at a discount
where the majority
of shoppers
with
their
cuddly puppies
watch time
go
by
savouring
fresh
quality
fruit & veg
followed
by
stuffed pork rolls
and
mousse dessert
with
dark
exquisite sweetness
for
demanding palates
where
quality costs less
sweet luxury
surprises
for
lovers
of
strong
delicate
flavours.
-----------------------------------
Author: Paul Callus ~ 16th March 2014
Contest: Cut-up Poems/Word Collage
Sponsor: Charlotte Puddifoot
Placing: 7th
Categories:
palates, chocolate, food, fruit,
Form:
Free verse
When dictators purchase our guns,
we wade through blood to deliver.
And take their cash without remorse
while riddled bodies still quiver.
Big egos and pampered palates
impose subsistence starvation.
And enforced illiteracy
results in mental stagnation.
Children suckle on bitter tears,
scratching a living from the earth.
And there is no escaping pain,
hunger's a consequence of birth.
Governments exploit poor people
that are too frightened to resist.
And their rights are an afterthought
to nations drooling to assist.
A weapon of mass destruction,
fear, undermines their will to live.
And they are stripped of everything;
till they have nothing left to give.
(Quatrain)
1/16/2015
Categories:
palates, august, corruption, grief, how
Form:
Quatrain
Hydrangea blues
blooming in seven colors
versatile at heart
Storm clouds in a tantrum and yet
the rainbow
Gently wipes away a facade
reveals a layer
hidden within
Pretty just like yesterday
red-hot pokers
Playing fireworks
on lovers' palates
scintillating senses
The shared spaghetti noodle
growing shorter
Sunlight fading
into a sweet dream
aromatic Osmanthus
'tween the slits of enclosed fingers
flashes of a firefly
Smolders of passion
unfolding within
Chrysanthemum mysteries
Instead of the bee
her tender touch
Frozen fixture
all the yellow once in the field
now in the moon
Aesthetic display
of a crystallized Rose quartz
The snowy hills
at this time a strange warmth
morning blush
Purplish Crocuses
pop their cheerful heads up kisses blown
Thinking himself
to be King Arthur
startled butterflies
Surprised Tulips
opening lips with an exclamation
August heat!
there goes the evidence
of the snail
Spiraling down a Corkscrew vine
into a time portal
...................................
A Collaborated Rengay Poem with Timothy Hicks
Copyright © 2016 July 23rd
Categories:
palates, fantasy, flower, imagery, senses,
Form:
Rengay
Outside the city, tasty pomegranates grow,
the Wakefields look forward to delayed honeymoon.
British coffee merchant, James was raised in Bordeaux.
Each day, they sample wines after lunch, after noon;
sober sweethearts smile, their selections apropos.
New to their palates - pomegranate/cranberry,
two acidic fruits, both improve in the blending;
secret recipes mix sweetness with pungency.
The two lovers delve in, raw tastes that are trending;
mixing with dry merlot, a cheese rich and creamy.
James relishes sharing his past with Mallory,
his new bride of three weeks and his dearest delight.
It is here, she'll meet his extended family.
It’s here they foster new clients, enjoy old sights.
Here, they reserve a right and preference for coffee.
written 12 April 2016
Categories:
palates, 11th grade, adventure, husband,
Form:
Alexandrine
When lyrics and music are combined they take on a whole new life.
When chlorine and sodium assimilate they make salt.
Separately they are limited, combined they are significant.
Together we can accomplish much, divided we dither.
Salty Sentinels
By James E. Tate
Sodium ions stable, assembled on the table,
Salivating palates crave.
Chlorine ions tiny, mustering soldiers briny,
Guarding corners brave.
Sodium Chloride making, crystal shakers shaking
Cubes of salty white.
Ever fighting blandness, vectors adding grandness,
To enhance the appetite.
You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness,
how can it be made salty again” It is no longer good for anything,
except to be thrown out and trampled by men. Matthew 5:13
Categories:
palates, science,
Form:
Couplet