Best Puree Poems
Candy potluck sweet.
Puree organic patty objects foods oatmeal plant.
Poise raffish jelly imbibes candy.
Here at our Cafe'
We serve the best brains in the City
We only pick the freshest
The pink, the plump and pretty
We like our brains real lean
It's the healthy way to eat
So we trim off all the fat
And we cut-out all the meat
But Our recipe's a secret
You mustn't tell a soul
We use a lot of fruit
And of course veg-e-ta-bles
Then we, Chop, slice and puree
Filet, fry and boil
Dip, roll, then saute
Season, salt and oil
Cut, mince and marinate
Stuff, simmer, stew and baste
Freeze, and refrigerate
Then add more salt to taste
Bake, broil, and then roast
Steam, stir with ladle
Sear, brown, braze and toast
Then serve it to your table
Life is a mere dream
A fleeting shadow that fades
with time; awaken!
Seniors Style
'Twas the night before Christmas at Rock-Away Rest,
And all of us seniors were looking our best.
Our glasses, how sparkly, our wrinkles, how merry:
The punchbowl held prune juice plus three drops of sherry.
A bedsock was taped to each walker, in hope
That Santa would bring us soft candy and soap.
We surely were lucky to be there with friends,
Secure in this residence and in our Depends.
Our grandkids had sent us some Christmasy crafts,
Like angels in snowsuits and penguins on rafts.
The dental assistant had borrowed our teeth,
And from them she'd crafted a holiday wreath
The bed pans, so shiny, all stood in a row,
Reflecting our candles' magnificent glow.
Our supper so festive -- the joy wouldn't stop
Was creamy warm oatmeal with sprinkles on top.
Our salad was Jell-O, so jiggly and great,
Ten puree of fruitcake was spooned on each plate.
The social director then had us play games,
Like "Where Are You Living?" and "What Are Your Names?"
Old Grandfather Looper was feeling his oats,
Proclaiming that reindeer were nothing but goats.
Our resident wand'rer was tied to her chair,
In hopes that at bedtime she still would be there.
Security lights on the new fallen snow
Made outdoors seem noon to the old folks below.
Then out on the porch there arose quite a clatter
(But we are so deaf that it just didn't matter).
A strange little fellow flew in through the door,
Then tripped on the sill and fell flat on the floor.
'Twas just our director, all togged out in red.
He jiggled and chuckled and patted each head.
We knew from the way that he strutted and jived
Our social-security checks had arrived.
We sang -- how we sang -- in our monotone croak,
Till the clock tinkled out its soft eight p.m. stroke.
And soon we were snuggling deep in our beds,
While nurses distributed nocturnal meds.
And so ends our Christmas at Rock-Away Rest.
Soon you'll be with us; we wish you the best.
(Anon.)
Pasta comes in lots of colours, in many shapes and sizes,
Each one does a different job, in several different guises.
The smaller the pasta used in a soup the lighter it will be,
It’s used to fill your tum, when you eat it you’ll agree.
Pasta sheets make lasagne, both vegetable and meat,
Quickly bringing families to the table to eat.
Spaghetti is a favourite too, of that you will agree,
It’s used in Bolognaise, one of my favourites for tea.
Macaroni is a favourite household American dish
Mac and Cheese recipes people think are delish.
Pasta can be filled with yummy food to eat,
Mushroom, cheese or vegetable parcels really are a treat.
Flour, eggs and water makes a perfect pasta,
Beetroot puree makes it red and squid ink turns it blacker,
Orange is made by adding lots of tomato puree
If you want it green, spinach makes it groovy!
If you make pasta at home roll it very thin
Fun to make, it hopefully won’t land up in the bin!
Whether long or short, tubes, shapes or frills
We all agree that pasta has all the skills
To make us eat our meals much faster
So come on mum, bring on the pasta!
APPLE FACTS
An apple is an apple. It is an apple to the core.
It is an apple because God made it an apple.
It needs nothing more to make it shape, taste,
or feel more like an apple; so it’s great at being an apple,
because an apple is just what it is.
No matter what color an apple it is, red, green,
or yellow, it’s still an apple.
And if it could bleed, it would have apple blood;
but it has apple seeds, apple skin and apple flesh.
If we extract its juices, we’ll have apple juice.
If we puree it, we’ll get apple sauce.
If we cut it up and make pies, the pies will be…
apple pies.
An apple is a fruit, and it should never be taught
that somehow it may be a veggie; I am sure then that it would not have to prove, apologize, or fight for the right to be fruity.
If we plant its seeds, it will produce other apples,
and that is proof enough that it was meant to be an apple. Surely we can genetically modify it to become something other than a pure apple.
But it is an apple by nature, meaning, that it’s simply natural
for an apple to be the apple it was created to be.
Fact is...an apple it is, an apple it was in the beginning,
and an apple it will always be.
And however it shall perish, whether for food for the body
or to the earth again to produce more of it’s kind,
by God and nature, it was surely an apple.
We humans can learn a lot from an apple.
Mix white sugar, cinnamon,
cloves ginger, sweet pumpkin puree,
condensed milk and egg;
bake it for fifty
minutes or
so!
A mushroom ravioli
with cabbage dumplings
in cauliflower puree
blackberry crumble
carrot cake
Trim!
What ponderous rouge of Titian red,
Creations juiciest from an earthen bed.
From royal king to drunken red head,
The one fruit you truly never could shred.
Piquant and sour the need of the hour,
Without your ketchup? left partly fed.
Sometimes, well blanched and made into puree,
Enjoyed by both, the judge and the jury.
Stuffed with mincemeat or well mashed potato,
A good thick soup laced with ajinomoto.
The seeds could leave you petrified,
Some kidney stones well calcified.
With all his tangy and acrid ways,
Still finding his way onto salad trays
- Prince Freakasso(Artist & Poet)
Sullivan heard the professor's talks
Nodded his head and reached for the woks
The Quantum Theory
Is tomato puree
He learnt this in the school of hard knocks
Sullivan is my pet ghost
Far away from home, I found another home in Taiwan
Today all family members come together
Eat pomelo
Make a pomelo hat to turn bad luck into good
The smell from the pomelo hat is very energizing
The day of the festival starts with the inexplicable taste of mooncake
Tender pastry skin enveloping a dense sweet puree
Sweetened mung bean filling
Salted duck egg yolk embedded within
Small wedges of green tea flavors mooncake along with Oolong cha
Filled my heart with joy!
The mooncake contained a secret message
After my family make it public, it is not a secret any longer
When the sun starts moving down the west
We spot a place to sit along the street
Just in front of the house
Neighbors are also starting to do the same
Everyone is delighted to sit under the moonlight
BBQ sauce starts to spread its magic smell in the neighborhood
Chopsticks and paper plates are in every hand
Oldster make their groups
Cheers with a glass of wine
Laughers and music defeats the sounds of BBQ
How delightful to chew those sausages!
Kids are running all over the place
Playing crackers
My younger brother was playing Erhu
I sat on the ground holding a steamed corn
Placed a chopstick in the middle
Eating corn while looking at the sky
The moon is bright and blissful
It was blushing like a young shy lady
A bit of its happiness sprinkled on the earth tonight
How many pleats perfect the fall in Radha’s sari?
What portion of turmeric flawlessly lights up mum’s curry?
Without spice, how can some people have last names like, ‘Achari’?
When meeting after long, why does Tom ask Harry, ‘What’s the story?’
Why do tiny fruits have to cost an arm and a leg; like blueberry?
When there is already diced tomatoes, why the need for puree?
Who thought to give spicy adult sauce childish names- ‘Parry-Parry’?
How can something that cannot be drunk, be called ‘straw’berry?
Would a kilo of grapes married with some chaser, make my vision blurry?
Why would something that glides on water without wings, be called a ferry?
Like most beautiful desserts, should I have started the first line in reference to a cherry?
I wonder, and sometimes I wonder too much; that in itself can be scary.
The Pleasure of your Company
is Requested
at
A Banquet in Celebration
of
The Big Picture of Life
to be Held at
Your Earliest Convenience
before
The Eleventh Hour
Appetizers will Include
a Cocktail of Bitter Tears
Garnished with Fresh Sprigs of Regret
and
a Light Melange of Personal Inflictions
Sauteed in a Rich Resentment Sauce
a Salad of Tossed Emotions
with
Sympathy Dressing
Will follow
a Tureen of Everything Anyone Ever Did to You
will Precede the Entrée
which will consist of a
Thick Fillet of Condemnation
Braised Over an Open Fire of Unforgiveness
Served with a Puree of Wistfulness
and
Garden Grown Indifference
Poached in a Whine Reduction
And Garnished with
Minced Crow
A Dessert of Humble Pie
and
Stifled Screams
Complimented by an Aperitif
of Flaming Foresight
will Conclude the Dinner
Dancing to the
Music of the Spheres
will Commence
in the
Bawl Room
where
Nightcaps of Resolve
will be Served
Grapes are gorgeous little fruit
black, red, or white, any one will suit.
These luscious plump and juicy mites,
will tingle taste buds day or night.
The harvest is gathered when time is right,
not a day too soon or a day too late,
Precision's the word they must obey,
or risk a spoiling of the sweet puree.
The princely fruit is piled up high,
with countless bunches in swift supply
Bare feet and legs march round and round,
squeezing juice from the skins of the fruit they pound.
Like the vandals of yore, they destroy the treasure,
but the outcome they serve is one of great pleasure.
For once the fermenting over time has drawn nigh,
That glorious wine will, without doubt, satisfy.
In the pit, deep and hollow
Burning furnace, cried of sorrow
Cried his veins, but unyielding
Before the punishment unleashed
In countenance to arrogate His power
Heaven this day turned to hell
When in challenge of His kingdom
As a horse in a hot chase to furnace
Abrupt it stopped and the fling
The middle of furnace he was thrown
Punishment for Lucifer but he lives
To Him, His kingdom was in contention
In lore of creation he was in pretention
To bow to Him the creation he knew
In heaven rancour did rain
When Michael gorged his ribs
This furnace man must void
Before attainment of His chamber
But kingdom of Him in division
The one he holds, the one He owns
The earth, Lucifer in reign
But heaven, Lucifer in lost
Here Lucifer was choked with rakes
Slit it tore his brows to flakes
Dull blades pierced in rages
The eyes he raised to His Grace
Like Michael, my mind in fury
To Dante, furnace for man is puree
When furnace will turn to black
Before a man will kiss His feet
But accursed Lucifer still in reign
I put my brain in a blender today
It was my right hand that did it
The dominant one
In one forceful bash
I reached in and pulled it out
Bits of bone and bloody brain
First stop was chop
Little pieces of memory flipped about
But remained
This is no good, no good at all!
Next, I set my mind on grind
Gray pulp splatter
What's the matter?
You're not getting squeamish
Because that's nothing
I hit the pulse button
Splat and splatter, splat and splatter
Memory-matter, splitter-splatter
This is guts-and-gore stuff
So deal with it
I lifted the brain-lined lid
And freed the random chunks
They were clinging for dear life
But there is no escape
With the back of my hand
I slapped 'em back in
No escape, not today
Off the grind and on to puree
**Thanks for reading... Anton - www.foesofprose.com**