Best Tastiest Poems
Summer’s sweetest natural dessert
Presented itself to me in the form of a
Large seeded watermelon that
I found by chance at a local food stand.
Thrilled was I to see such a perfect specimen!
Wide, round, and green,
It had a yellowish underside and those “bee stings”
Desired by people who search for the tastiest melons
Every year when that marvelous fruit is in season.
On my arrival home, I stumbled and dropped that luscious melon.
Pulp of red juiciness splattered all over the driveway -
Effectively destroying the whole thing as it went KER-SPLAT,
Never to be enjoyed by my expected dinner guests that evening!
June 10, 2022
For Edward Ibeh's This Or That, Vol 12 Poetry Contest
Title chosen: Split Wide Open
Dutch cruller, rich and sweet,
Belgium chocolates, nothing like them.
Scottish kale, made into tasty broth.
New England crab, pride of the Atlantic,
Cuba’s sweet and sour daiquiri.
America’s tastiest eggnog, made instantly sour by the sight of one small dead titter mouse.
One teeny tiny mistake, but I may never drink eggnog again.
She speaks
sweetest confections
purest ingredients
tastiest treats
scrumptious delight
She sings
cool summer breeze
wind through my hair
worries recede
ray of sunlight
She sleeps
prayers have been answered
dreams are revealed
touched by an angel
heavenly sight
My Little Girl
Started drinking fruit flavoured water now
Not the tastiest but I'll keep trying, I vow
In the winter months I always seem to gain
Inactivity is the culprit, exercising's a pain
When I walk, it's much more like a waddle
Sure don't resemble a Givenchy model
Gonna keep on trying to recapture my youth
Downed another swig of gin and vermouth
Now everything appears to be quite copacetic
Gin works wonders as an anesthetic
So getting back to the fruit flavoured water
A lot more concerned than this guy oughta
I'm almost eighty-eight so why should I care
Soon I'll be trapped in my big easy chair
Wifey will feed me some ground up mush
Dentures down the toilet gets flushed
But there's a silver lining waiting for me
If I could only get rid of my gimpy old knee
Bottom line is this, sure had a great life
Came up a big winner by a roll of the dice
Phuket, along Andaman, an escape
Blue sky, life ventures, it creates
Wonderful culture, a heritage
Is life savor, simply tastiest
Cascading waterfalls, verdant forests
Ideallic appeal and fishing villages
Lies wild islands of distinctive shapes
With hidden cliffs, and saltwater lakes
Breathtaking sea and sand, affectionate
At dawn lies full gem, unexpressed
Influenced, inspired, it's timeless
Enchanting, Phuket, truly said
The yuletide is here, with all its trappings,
And I'll count my blessings to finally see
My favorite package, in all her wrappings ...
You, My Love, 'neath our Christmas tree ...
I'm impatient as kids, goodness knows,
Swooning to savor those holiday sweets,
But Santa has managed with trims and bows
To hide all the best of your tastiest treats ...
I know our last tousle was fits and stalls,
So let's make amends by the fire with care ...
I'll do my darnedest to deck all your halls,
Weaving the garland to streak your hair ...
Oh, how divine, the grabs and grapples,
Our kindled pursuit of a Christmas truce,
Your thighs, firmly shaped for squeezing apples,
But devoted, as I, to that sparkling juice ...
And should we yet dare to imbibe that cider,
Attending our wassails long through the night,
I'm sure that your hearth will be warming wider,
So keeping our passions AND holidays ... bright!
~ 3rd Place ~ in the "Cool Writes And Imagination" Poetry Contest, Kim Rodrigues, Judge & Sponsor.
You are the stuff my culinary dreams are made of.
Unending shapes and sizes.
From skinny linguini to the rounded orecchiette
and squiggly fusilli.
As my tongue tastes morsels of your saucy tubular goodness,
I compose a rhyme of the ancient marinara to atone
for my over-the-top pasta love.
Stuffed, plain, buttered. Swimming in Sunday sauce.
The tastiest were those plain whites I pilfered from the pot
before nonna caught me. Whack! with the wooden spoon.
It’s rumored my very first uttering was mangia – an oft-heard word
spoken by mama as she attempted to feed me.
“You’re going to turn into a rigatoni
if you don’t eat something else,” she implored.
Ha! If I were a rigatoni, we’d be cugini.
I only liked you, beautiful al dente you.
And semolina only, please. I accept no impastas!
You’ve been with me through thick and thin,
mostly thick ... around my hips.
Late night comfort snack,
midday bowl of depression-busting goodness.
The breakfast of strong Italian women!
You are Sophia Loren’s guilty pleasure.
Mine, too. With the emphasis on pleasure.
One bite and I am transported back to childhood.
Visions of homemade pasta drying on pristine
white flour sack towels tantalize my taste buds.
You, dear pasta, are la bomba.
My love for you is unending, until we all farfalle down.
The home of mankind and makind’s favourite drink
existing in a size bigger than spain and france combined
with its new flower, a diplomatic capital of its continent
and a paradise for vegetarians having the tastiest, healthiest
and most diverse cuisine in its regions.
It has a cycle more than the regular year-timing
and one of only two territories never to be dominated.
This home is of its own original Alphabet consisting of unique symbols
and a continental pride of its first ever Olympic Gold medal.
Aligns itself with members of the class of highest capitals
with more than twice the continental stony landscapes in its possession
and a detailed recognition far away from outer-space
on the great rift valley situated right in its heart,
all coming from this abode where the black Jews originated.
Its natural heritage is most appreciated and recognized amongst its peers
and the dwelling place to the last surviving species of ancient grazing primates
holding commanding claims to the biblical covenant Ark and commandments
are the sub-units of its pride spanning a long time scale
which is unfortunately altered by the common affliction
affecting all the settlers of its entire large neighbourhood.
When the president said ‘misunderestimated’
Everybody wondered, ‘was he ever educated’
But I forgive him that, for the thing that makes me ‘EEK!’
Is the mad proliferation of Corporation Speak…
For thirteen years a desk paid my rent
As I gave a hundred and ten percent
While progress chasing, the big knobs suggested
I could perhaps be more invested
They said action that
And try blue sky thinking
Let’s square the circle
Cos floating ain’t sinking
So pick it up and run with it
But bring it to the table
And hit the ground running
Don’t smoke in the stable
Scare the ghost
Feel the commotion
Peel the onion
Boil the ocean
If you’re out of the loop
Go punch the puppy
We’ll take it on board
(While I punch the yuppie)
So here’s the game changer
Think outside the box
We need joined up thinking
Heads up, shoot the fox
It’s a no brainer, for it’s got legs
The tastiest coffee still has dregs
So find a window, bump some heads
You can’t make an omelette without cracking eggs
So let’s all sing from the same hymn sheet
For we live in a world full of corporate speak
A little old man called Finbar McGann
Survived on a diet of spinach and spam.
Occasionally cabbage he dined on as well,
but hated the way it made his house smell.
One day when he woke, it’s hard to tell why.
He thought there are foods I really should try.
He picked up his coat and headed for town
Deciding to try every restaurant around.
He first had a pizza he gobbled quick smart
Then ordered some pasta and blueberry tart
He sampled Chinese food, then a kebab.
A rather hot curry he scoffed after that.
Although he was full he wanted to glean
Which was tastiest kind of cuisine.
There were so many foods he’d need to digest
In order to reach the end of his quest.
He gorged on fried chicken, burgers and chips
Then looked at the menu licking his lips.
The beef bourguignon he gobbled with glee
Then asked the waiter to bring him the cheese.
Although his insides were starting to hurt
Finbar decided to try some dessert.
Ice cream, meringue, chocolate gateaux.
Which was the nicest? He just had to know.
Although he enjoyed every morsel he ate
He had to admit, he was not feeling great.
He swallowed a pill to ease indigestion
Ignoring discomfort to answer his question.
Still wanting more, just one final dish
Finbar Mc Gann ordered the fish.
Cooked to perfection the cod was delightful
But Mr Mc Gann was now feeling frightful.
His stomach swelled up with an ominous gurgle
He started to sweat, his features turned purple
His tongue, now quite numb, his taste buds eroded
Finbar mc Gann gave a groan, and exploded.
"Fattening up time" the wall calendar read
which meant only one thing to old farmer Ted
Christmas was coming and there's money to be made
you see the bigger the bird the more he'd be paid
He'd saved up all year and bought high quality feed
to ensure that his flock was the best he could breed
So this year Ted's turkeys would be the tastiest in town
and the best biggest birds would bring more bucks per pound
Last Christmas one turkey was the luckiest bird
You see she was too small to be sold, so her death was deferred
and being the braniest of birds ever born on the farm
meant she could outsmart farmer Ted instead of coming to harm
Whilst Farmer Ted fed her friends to fatten the flock
she counted her calories to avoid the chopping block
And as Ted's children had played, their fondness had grown
for "Tiny Tina the turkey", as she was affectionately known
This year she told other turkeys of why they were bred
"they'll feed you and fatten you and then cut off your head
and then stuff and roast you and on you they'll be fed"
The head turkey was horrified and asked "what could they do"
"should we run and hide or hold a farmyard coup?"
"Don't worry" replied Tina "I've hatched a plan so daring"
"I'm convinced it won't fail cos I've spent the last year preparing"
So she told the turkeys her plan of what she had devised
"We'll fool the farmer this year by going disguised"
"I've collected wool from the sheep for the perfect scam
and made us costumes to wear as part of my plan
to avoid the oven this year if disguised as a lamb"
Next day the farmer was up with the cracking of dawn
and couldn't believe what he saw as he stepped out on his lawn
No turkeys in sight, he could see none around
and after searching his farm, none could be found
He stood in his farmyard scratching his beard
wondering how all his turkeys could have just disappeared
and why were his lambs walking with a waddle?
and instead of a bleat they spoke with a gobble!
My juicy grapes are so ripe, plump and white,
they have soaked up most of the summer's sun...
will they make the tastiest wine?
Sparkling wine for gests' delight...
while I pull the air-tight cork with true might!
Entered in Francine Robert's contest,
" Bottle Of Wine "
June 23, 2001
Every law enforcement official out on patrol,
was desperate to capture The Vegan Cannibal,
so named from a note left with one of its victims,
leading to a series of murders that terrified every vegan.
It read, "I am a cannibal who does my best to eat healthy,
and vegans are the healthiest of all my desired meat.
Only a true vegan will yours truly eat.
Nothing artificial, no preservatives, mostly fresh food they consume.
Vegans are the healthiest and tastiest meat I have ever known,
so bid all of your vegan associates a hearty farewell,
should they cross paths with yours truly, The Vegan Cannibal."
The Vegan Cannibal was never apprehended, but its reign ceased,
when the vegans began consuming mass quantities of junk food and meat.
The croissant
The croissant sits there, urging you to eat,
But never a challenge would you ever wish to meet.
It is a perfect shape, that will be sadly be demolished,
As you make the first incision, it’s construction is abolished.
It is the messiest food, you will ever choose to eat,
Keeping things tidy, is an impossible feat,
And there are far more bits, spread around the table,
Than to reconstruct the croissant, if you were ever able!!
Everyone is staring with the utmost, utter disgust,
As if eating a croissant, free of mess, is a absolute must.
To make things worse, I’ve got to spread, the butter and the jam,
But now with greasy fingers, opening the jar, is not something that I can!!
If I ever see a croissant, when I’m ordering a tea,
I might opt for a scone, between you and me,
The croissant is the tastiest, with jam it is a must
But the thought of all the mess means I’m not really that fussed.
Started drinking fruit flavoured water now
Not the tastiest but I'll keep trying, I vow
In the winter months I always seem to gain
Inactivity is the culprit, exercising's a pain
When I walk, it's much more like a waddle
Sure don't resemble a Givenchy model
Gonna keep on trying to recapture my youth
Downed another swig of gin and vermouth
Now everything appears to be quite copacetic
Gin works wonders as an anesthetic
So getting back to the fruit flavoured water
A lot more concerned than this guy oughta
I'm almost eighty so why should I care
Soon I'll be trapped in my big easy chair
Cathie will feed me some ground up mush
Dentures it seems, down the toilet got flushed
But there's a silver lining just waiting for me
If I could only get rid of my gimpy old knee
Bottom line is this, sure had a great life
Came up a big winner on the roll of the dice
© Jack Ellison 2015