Best Tastier Poems
Delight and laughter are your stock and trade,
With rhyme you carry our worries away,
You’re much more fun than a penny arcade.
Words sparkle like an egg by Faberge,
Dancing across poems like a cabaret.
A footle on poop, you’re back in the loop,
With words tastier than alphabet soup.
The limericks you write are out of sight,
Leaving us soupers no time to regroup,
Before the next poem gives pure delight.
Written 07/07/2015 for my dear friend Jan.
"When you smile all Soupers smile with you"
When Octopus came round for tea,
it was a tricky time for me.
Not knowing what he’d like to eat.
I wondered... savoury or sweet?
I borrowed spoons from Mrs Deggs
next door, for each of his eight legs.
I ‘d heard, if cross, black ink he’d squirt.
I worried... main course or dessert?
I know you’re thinking ‘do the two’
but he doesn’t eat like me and you,
his tummy’s really very small,
he can’t eat very much at all.
I fast flicked through my cooking books
and gave the clock face frequent looks,
but soon the door bell went ‘terrrinnggg’
Oh gosh! Hot pie or cold pudding?
‘Terrrinnggg, terrrinnggg’. Eight times it rang
and then he used each leg to bang
eight times upon my door. I rushed
to open it, and past he pushed.
“Please hurry up and let me in”
he squealed, and I thought, through the din,
‘He must be hungry for his food,
that’s why his manners are so rude’
But still I didn’t have clue
(a secret between me and you)
what I should feed the octopus.
I wished he ate like one of us.
I closed my eyes and made a wish,
Into my thoughts popped ‘Jelly fish!’
It sounded like the perfect meal,
much tastier than jellied eel.
Ooh, seafood with a fruity taste
and wobbly too. I cooked with haste,
and while I wondered what he’d think
I gave him sea water to drink.
He drank it through a straw, with ice.
He smiled and said “That’s rather nice,
but now I really need my dinner
before my legs get any thinner”
The Jelly Fish I boiled and froze
and put some parsley up its nose.
It was neither jelly nor a fish
but I served it on a silver dish
and asked before it passed his lips
“Do you want it with ice-cream or chips?”
He chose to have a bit of each,
both garnished with a slice of peach.
It all went down with one loud SLUURRRPPP
close followed by a great big BUUUURRRRPP
"Thoughts of a Sexual Nature"
Vivid thoughts of you,
in your birthday suit.
Sprawled on my living room floor,
anxiously you wait
for what you came here for.
Long toned legs,
a rippled mid-section.
I want to hear you beg,
you caused this ********.
Incense burn!!
Sex on the Beach
heightens the mood.
I allude,
to a massage.
A mental mirage,
a dream.
Vivid thoughts accrue,
as I knead your birthday suit.
skin like a rare passion fruit,
and I'm working for your nectar.
You're my aperitif,
and I have a sweet tooth
for your vermouth.
_________________________________________________________
Strumming your neck,
my tongue is the pick.
Hearing you moan lightly, "Oh your so thick."
So eager was the lass,
for me to.... hose down her fire.
You see, the blaze I intensified.
I knew her desires.
Slow down I pleaded,
hasten your pace!
We have all night baby,
and first base is my face.
I had overdosed on her Vermouth.
She poured without a care!
Enveloped in lusts rapture,
it was, to soon to conclude.
Ambiance is important, so I'll set the mood.
Red lights, mirrored headboard
& playing softly in the background,
a love songs
interlude!!!
_________________________________________________________
Soft moist lips lick you're ear
whispering words of delight
pursuing my plight for your might,
my tongue rolls down your neck
peck on peck,
as my goal unfolds
kissing chest nipples
your dimples of gold
tanned bronze like a god,
excitement,
ecstasy
extension to explode,
the ride enhances as liftoff begins
tastier than sins,
searing flesh on flesh emotions
enmesh juices of love in thrombosis,
in oceanic osmosis,
as we fall...
spent ...
content ...
in orgasmic opulence.....
"This is a collaboration written by three different poets... Starting with Me...
Samuel Brooks has the middle section, and Linda Marie Bariana concludes...
This turned out well and I am sure all of you will agree..
Jared Pickett---Asavvy1
Samuel Brooks----ChocolateWoW-------------------------1/27/2010
Linda Marie Bariana------Sweetheart
Hmm, yum— I come,
as a fan and chum of cheese,
I love almost all the types,
but if you're of those who don't choose cheese,
you might find this poem quite cheesy.
As for me, cheeseburger or yummy cheesecake
I can never be cheesed off by any cheese.
This poem, therefore, is for cheese sake.
Serve me the cheesiest pizza, if you please.
Ah, I'm so very fond of cheesy macaroni.
Even greens become appetizing with pecorino.
I couldn't resist a cheesy pizza with pepperoni.
I'd love to taste a Spanish zamorano.
Cook that spaghetti, or that bolognese.
Top it with red cheddar or mozzarella.
All that's far tastier with layers of cheese.
Cheese ain't merely for the mice of Cinderella.
And in my sandwich, stuff that provolone or ricotta,
for I've already tasted jibneh arabieh.
Under the crescent moon, on the menu be crescenza,
or even a candle-lit dinner for two— and a dish of brie!
Lasagne with colby or Asiago—
Melting Greensward or gooey Gruyere.
A cheesy casserole with manchego,
And Roquefort's tasty, I will swear.
Be it cottage cheese or friesian,
Greek feta cheese or french fromagefrais,
You can bet I'd enjoy a Parmesan—
anytime, anywhere, anyday!
A dollop of dunlop may not be so bad for a diet,
but cheese is a major culprit behind chubby cheeks.
The wish to forever stay slim and light,
has to compete against the desire for camembert with leeks.
Next on my menu, the popular cream cheese,
and I did not forget Indian paneer cheese curry.
Oh, try some Swiss chard, with Swiss cheese,
And you won't forget that taste in a hurry.
Say cheese, smile, and say cheese for the cam even, saying, "wow, now."
Taste a slab of halloumi or gouda, and thank God for the cow.
Two cans Apple pie filling
Half cup brown sugar
Half spoon cinnamon, nutmeg
Half spoon all spices
Two cups milk
Done!
For crust mix bisque and milk to
Make dough and roll it.
Cut circles by five inch lid
Deep fry and heat oil
About four minutes
Dust sugar
Yum!
Don’t like cooking? Then buy it
All say it’s tasty
But mind to eat properly
Lest it is messy
Pie makes one merry
Delicious
Pie!
If fed up with apple pies
Try other fillings
Apple crumb with cinnamon
Tastier tart cherries
Seedless dried grapes
Even beef
Pies!
+++
October 14, 2014
Form: Epulaeryu
Dr. Ram Mehta
Third Place Win
Contest: Plentitude of Pies by Sheri Freshonke Harper
Worth and numbers rarely go hand in hand.
Producing seeds which will rot and be eaten by the locust
makes barrenness a special kind of blessing.
So pay attention and lend me your mind oh child
b'cos from it comes the brush to which your life is coloured.
Rights enable you claim your hat
responsibilities show you when and how to wear it.
Manifestation of your works beyond the comprehension of your mates
exalts the power of your mind
but constant announcement of your own achievements
makes you the promoter of their doubts to crown you a liar.
Vehicles driven by words are no match
for the ones handled by deeds.
Let not your free will be cajoled
grudges in a hidden corner after the exhibition of charity
blows out your light with an awful breath.
A non doer and an adamant “no” giver
still possess some honour
when compared to a chronic complainer.
Reputation decorates the corner of an uptight man
but it is slavery when one lives on too many principles.
A good life is one moving on the chariots of freedom
and freedom is running a lifestyle
both within and outside without much notice.
Habits are great managers to conscience’s liquor stores
and character intoxication is closest to the point of irreversibility.
A greedy mind is a warehouse run by waste with no room for left overs.
A tight fisted hand is self limiting, reducing its surface area to receive.
A mind without courtesy to its environs,
spinning the world around its own orbit breeds selfishness.
Corruption builds thorns around the heart
and makes the soul a direct relation to insanity.
If false words were grapes, water would be tastier than wine.
Exaggeration adds a tail to the bird
and makes the dog an Amphibian.
But love gives poisons no ground to strive
satisfaction without it is the existence
of a Leopard in an Elephant’s skin.
The gardens of space filled with little rainbows
cannot outshine its colours;
staying as the only ingredient necessary for the preservation of humanity.
When your mind is at peace with itself,
then is the Joy of my inheritance to you completely whole.
i wake up every morning
questioning my entire existence
they say i must be persistent
but i ask myself is god really present or absent
you folks say to make it i have to be obedient
Things fall apart
friends became enemies
gravity seems to be my worst enemy
all my plans seems to be rearranged
things i wanted to establish and accomplish
have perished and vanish
they say the world is round
and yet i think is a square
so many hurts we get from
corners here and there
Things fall apart
the sky is covered with a dark cloud
i try to speak but my voice is not loud
i tried to blend in the crowd
but i always standout
all my brothers are school dropouts
my sister works as a checkout girl
they said heavens gate was built to keep me out
moments like this i ask God's whereabouts
Things fall apart
Just as we say things are getting better
sweeter and tastier, they turn sour and bitter
the sky just fall in the middle of a storm
the trees are unfruitful
the rivers are dry
our crops in the field are devoured before harvest time
my eyes are all red and swollen
from the tears that shed
my mothers knees are red from
kneeling down and praying for a miracle
her knuckles are frozen from knocking on heavens door
her voice is all cranky from shouting
hoping god can hear her
Things fall apart
mom lost her job
daddy got retrenched at his
grandma has a disease that has no cure
soon she will departure
to the heavens above
relatives have turned into strangers
rags and shreds cover my body
my little sister singing
is my rhapsody of reality
as we stand firm together in unity.
Breakfast
Appetizer of the day,
the morning fried egg sun,
yolk pulp and burnt crisp around the face,
pumpkin fries like sun rays shoot sharply downward,
the air dispersed everywhere like ketchup,
Durant street is straight as a bacon
and Telegraph bacon cross-sections Durant,
the clear sky wheat bread drenched in white milk.
it is 9:30 my morning class,
feels like breakfast to my mind,
so filling.
Lunch
Twist,
open Diet Coke
open reader spill some drops
wait for to-go at Kimchi Garden
Terriyaki is so quick
but beef is tastier than chicken I guess.
write notes on tissues because of the forgotten notepad
essay, presentation, essay, reader, midterm
check cell phone to-do list
sip diet coke
check list again
"Beef Terriyaki to-go"
Grab food, forget diet coke on table
run to room and get ready for the last class.
Dinner
Whew.
walking out of the rusty Sather Gate
in memory of the late Peder,
Almost 7 PM, feels like prison break.
The burden of a vertebrate,
Exhausted legs leaking battery acid,
Red eyes need some varnishing.
On the way home, I stop by Yogurt Land
a weary lion scavenging for fresh blood;
NY Strawberry cheesecake flavor
Dessert of my day, of course
the stars taste so sweet after hard work.
What a day.
i become a stone,
still a leader,
but translation
transforms me,
as i learn
“le crayon est rouge.”
“Je m’appelle Chantal.”
enchanted by my “nom français.”
a shy child, changed by her name.
my friend and i
on different sides.
she’s critical of Madame Gold.
i rather enjoy
the running jump
into “Lac d’Aiguebelette.”*
we whisper fun, of one boy,
with the crooked nose.
i lose my charm
an anchor
clinging to the radiator.
french class particularly enchanting
as if we travel across the vast sea —
explore the Louvre and Eiffel Tower,
the catacombs and Notre Dame.
crèpes in class
tastier than home ec.
Madame Gold calls on Kat-a-leen.
She’s not happy, a bit.
but i smile, and wait a long long while
before i visit, for real, the city of lights.
now in my sixties, i learn much more
of the sordid history of Paris
and its close-by venture to Versaille.
but all our hometown places
have their secrets, their horrors,
their orgies, and battles.
God keeps beauty in the steeple
and the turquoise sky and the lake
reminding me of “paradis.”**
french class, history — a loft
for an awkward child.
perhaps that’s why Madame Gold
was so enchanting,
not a bit of a witch like Kathleen thought.
2/25/2021
Lac d’Aiguebelette pronounced “lack-day-boo-lette”
Paradis pronounced “pear-a-dee”
Once there was a right dandy dude from New York
He dined each day on the finest loin of pork
Never met a pig he did not admire,
Roasting on a flaming barby fire
Made even tastier by the pop of the cork.
May 23, 2021
[Our perspective]
Blackness superimposed by glowing blue
Smearing white spiraling cloud icings
Appearing applied by a painter’s hand
Soon to stretch and then to transform
As eventually will happen with all belief systems
The curvature and reflection of oceans
Vast emerald forests and rolling plains
Attesting to generations of hopes and uncertainties
Poverty, lost loves and sparkling newborn eyes
Shadowed by the serenity and wisdom of wrinkled faces
The fluid motion of our sliding blue oval
Across the windshields of descending spaceships
Eyes viewing us as we view our enemies
Our protests falling upon deaf ears
Receiving the same mercy as we have given
Rounding us up for grotesque consumption
With no regard to status or creed
Another food farm for galactic supermarkets
Where the cries of our children fade
Outcries unheeded by universal apathy
Being dragged kicking and screaming
From a cage of indignities
Fear so great we urinate our pants
Praying to God for deliverance
Oh God, help me, please, please, please!!!
[Their perspective]
They cling to their beliefs, don’t they?
Yes, whatever idea is most popular
That’s what they always call “faith”
Their mind is just like a computer
But with a richer and much tastier texture
Faith? So they think they’re right?
Sure do, right into my stomach, hahaha
Christians and Muslims, they both call us Satan
Pretty much, they taste about the same
But they’re not the tastiest of all
The lawyers are the tenderest
See, they’ve never done an honest day’s work
Bring me that one right there
“Now wait a minute, let’s talk this thing over”
Let’s don’t, but if you like we can say we did
Crunch, crunch, crunch, gulp
We were both young, carefree, so innocent
Dreams never simpler
Life's fruits tastier
Teenage love just one big experiment
Life a fantasy
Feeling fancy free
Uncontrollable hankering for fusion
Swept up in a fiery whirl of confusion
We were too young to know
While daydreams conjured false embellishment
Ravenous hunger
In one unhinged blur
Oblivious to foul entanglement
Dubiously free
Raw complicity
Infatuated craving for inclusion
Foolish heedless impetuous conclusion
We were too young to know
Gone in a whirl of frivolous torment
Foolhardy treasure
Lighthearted banter
Impressionable wide-eyed reckless bent
Dizzy and woozy
Too giddy with glee
Intoxicated with teenage delusion
Delirious adolescent illusion
We were too young to know
Swept up in lustful impetuous passion
Now seems so long ago
AP: 3rd place 2020
Submitted on May 15, 2018 to contest QARINAGE sponsored by GREGORY BARDEN - RANKED 4TH
Anxiety’s a sneaky beast.
On weaknesses, he likes to feast
And seemingly, the worse you feel,
The tastier will be his meal.
A person’s fears, though they may be
Not founded in reality
Will trigger clues the monster smells
Down in the dungeon where he dwells.
And once he’s sniffed, that’s all he needs
To find the source and then he feeds,
Depleting all that helps sustain
Stability within the brain.
The victims likely will survive;
The beast prefers they stay alive
Until he craves another snack
And gets the signal to attack.
Standing on the shore of Kimsey Lake,
Watching as each boat circled out in front
They'd cast my way and fish by fish they'd take,
Witnessing this time and time again, I hardly appreciated their stunt
I yelled, "Quit stealing my fish,
cast somewhere else on this lake",
To which the boater friendly replied, "You can come in my boat if you wish"
So I quickly packed up my gear, hardly a difficult decision to make
Moments later he docked on the bank, I jumped in and off we went,
My first cast, a large fish I caught
No longer was my day a non event,
Soon I was catching trout after trout and now thinking I'm one big shot
Catching my limit that day on Kimsey Lake,
Is a memory I'll never forget
Frying up fish for dinner was so much tastier than flank steak,
I'll be back each season you can sure bet!
More is so much more
More than creation could have to offer
The better we can do
If we meddle and then we tamper
Make it better it will be BIGGER
THERE beneath the muscle mass
The egg yolk recombinant pale industrial
Bubonic feed in tiny grains
Exogenous bovine viral
This will make it BIGGER
And so much better
This will serve the economic trend
Side effects no matter
BETTER bigger eat those nachos
Cobs are easier than modified corn
Plastic bags for a chemical filter
Economy size is so much BIGGER
Than the tastier crunchets were BEFORE
MATERIALISM's cannibalism
Of self consumption
Eats its way through the natural world
Great BIG cow beef dripping nasal hormones
Teeter themselves on unnatural legs
Burger buns and great BIG yellow M's
Have the market miasma cornered
Still the toilet middle man down
Flushed in the drains of public health
Get more to the gross is more to the pound
More to the kilo than an ounce
More insipid in its sliced up ubiquitous
BIGGER the savour ends up tastless
A pre-packed convenience for a cling-film house
Such is a western dream of diluted poison
BIGGER better better BIGGER
The opulent cadre of exploitation
And steady forever fractional collapse
More is so much more
More than this creation has to offer