Okay then, I’ll admit it. Yes, I’m lazy.
Not quite the hardest worker ever known.
My talent is a Motorola phone:
to drink the colour of a mountain daisy
or taste a mirror (doesn’t that sound crazy?)
I need to keep it charged: I have to hone
those Pasolini “pentals” of my own
(“that’s mental petals”, says the Bolognese).
I enter things without the least compunction:
no sooner enter, than believe I’ve won:
no sooner win (excruciating pun)
Narcissus-like, than find the photo-function
to say that, on reflection, it was fun:
like playing chicken at a railroad junction.
There are few more days when I can indulge
Scales the enemy in Battle of Bulge
Oh! delights of lovely chocolate cake
Sprinkled liberally with milky flake.
Now, Lasagne with its Italian taste
My favourite dish I leave no waste
Spaghetti is good with Bolognese sauce
New Year resolution dreaded of course.
I will NEVER cheat will stand resolute
Green salad bowl with a piece of fruit
Step on the scales my failure is quite plain
Resolution broken hard to maintain.
Hundred million K' away neighbour, Mars
Hovers bolognese smeared brother, ice brick
Fondness for possibles although bizarre
Intoxicate screw loose hair brained psychic
Frog skin glint silk soak, last page of atlas
Frigid rift in regolith terracotta
Ancient alien sustaining chalice
Embalms escargot creatures exotic
Savant submerged in claiming lake, limbs grey
Gnawed on by hordes of sword fish ravenous
Haunting waters, explorer credere
Stores files in his spongy tissue camera
Angora cotton ball goats, horns antennas
Munch dust, dull marbles watch earth untether
Still the twentieth of October
Extra terrestrial Thursday
My mind at the moment reminds me
of making marbled paper
creating designs with dyes of different colors
floating in psychedelic swirls
placing the plain white sheet atop the water
before peeling it away like a temporary tattoo
In my fantasies we two
have strolled the streets of London together
sailed in a ship across the sea
searched for shells along sandy beaches
ate Bolognese in Italy
climbed to the top of magnificent mountains
explored sites from antiquity
though my favorite is simply
dancing among the flowers
under the same moon and stars we both see
no matter where in the mundane world
either of us happens to be
coast to coast love songs
rendezvous, dedications~
laughing together
I’ve lusted your spaghetti Bolognese
with you, fine port, and a soft ocean breeze
Will I ever leave? Never!
I will love you forever!
But all I ask now is pour more wine please
together thirteen years and like always ~ you’ll forget the garlic toast
Italian recipes I do absolutely love
especially enticed with some spice
plenty of water at your side
cools the tongue with a little ice
Spaghetti Bolognese is my fav
brings one such Italia taste
takes you back to la Roma
such memories not want to waste
Sitting at your table in anticipation
eyes set with hand on the fork
the waiter comes to your attention
brings the wine unpops the cork
Next the finale the wait's over
the main dish is in front of you
breathe in the succulent flavour
it just looks absolutely beau
Lean beef, onion, garlic, mushroom, chilli
ingredients making it the real deal
of course not forgetting the spaghetti
simply superb stunning what a steal!
Uneasy and queasy cos my TV set
Is showing another celebrity vet
My legs are crossed tight, just as tight as they get
Has that little dog lost his testicles yet
While eating my lunch, or was it my dinner
The cat on the screen getting thinner and thinner
The head vet was busy, so here’s a beginner
On his second attempt to stick that needle in ‘er
My hunger abates as the scalpel cuts in
And the cyst on his throat splatters poor kittie’s chin
My two horrid teenagers sit there and grin
But my spag bolognese now resides in the bin
The very long glove, that is slippery and wet
Is meant for the cow, though they’ve only just met
The vet seems as happy as any I’ve met
Till the cow follows through and enshrouds the poor vet
With Flopsy’s guts broadcast in X-ray exposure
While Tiddles pukes hairballs inside his enclosure
I wish it was more like a nice glossy brochure
As another castration destroys my composure
Date: 30 May 2019
Contest: What Makes You Flinch
Sponsor: Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
Anchored by its feet hangs the carcass
Butcher removes brisket and strings it
Chuck steak diced for stews and pies
Dark well matured silverside rests
Entrails give the dogs a royal feast
Flank minced for spaghetti bolognese
Gullet chopped into stock pot simmers
Hanging meat swings as the butcher works
Icy still from the blast chiller
Juicy steaks thickly cut are parcelled up
Kebabs skewered, placed on display
Loin of beef neatly lined up
Minced steak patties for burgers
Neck used in both stock pot and stew
Offal set aside for pate and pies
Perfectly roasted beef ready to carve
Quick flash fry of rib eye seals in juices
Rump not too trimmed dribbles on grill
Sirloin anointed by a king sizzling
Tongue gently braised in gravy or stock
Utensils casting shadows on the wall
Venison from red deer's makes tasty things
Wing rib rubbed with hot spices waits
Xhosa cattle graze in pastures green
Yellowed meats set aside for soup
Zibeline hides scrapped and cured, nailed up
8/27/2015
contest Any Poem written in August
v
THE DAY WE WENT TO HUCKNALL
The day we went to Hucknall, didn’t we have a lovely time.
So much so, I thought I would turn it into a rhyme.
The two of us.
On the bus.
Then on the tram
Then through the rain we ran.
To get our lunch at the pilgrim oak.
Just me and the old bloke.
Him with his platefull of fish, chips, and peas.
Me with my low fat spaghetti bolognese.
It only cost £6 50p for the lot.
It was even served piping hot.
Then round the charity shops we went.
To look for bargains, money well spent.
I got two brand new pairs of trousers for me.
each of them costing only 50p.
Now it is starting to get dark.
We must find our way back to the tram park
The tram takes us back to the market square.
We run to catch the number 10 bus, its ready to go, don’t you dare.
On the bus home it dawned on me.
We still had change from a tenner to get our tea.
A whole day out, including, lunch, new clothes, the bus, the tram.
Total spend £7 50p now the bus and tram.
Are free for me and the old man.
v
THE DAY WE WENT TO HUCKNALL
The day we went to Hucknall, didn’t we have a lovely time.
So much so, I thought I would turn it into a rhyme.
The two of us.
On the bus.
Then on the tram
Then through the rain we ran.
To get our lunch at the pilgrim oak.
Just me and the old bloke.
Him with his platefull of fish, chips, and peas.
Me with my low fat spaghetti bolognese.
It only cost £6 50p for the lot.
It was even served piping hot.
Then round the charity shops we went.
To look for bargains, money well spent.
I got two brand new pairs of trousers for me.
each of them costing only 50p.
Now it is starting to get dark.
We must find our way back to the tram park
The tram takes us back to the market square.
We run to catch the number 10 bus, its ready to go, don’t you dare.
On the bus home it dawned on me.
We still had change from a tenner to get our tea.
A whole day out, including, lunch, new clothes, the bus, the tram.
Total spend £7 50p now the bus and tram.
Are free for me and the old man.
Topography Lesson
Geography, I was good at it in school but somehow I missed San Marino.
I vaguely remember a movie with some lady star of yore making
a film about the place, maybe I have got it wrong and it was Monaco,
which has a royal house with princesses and a prince or two?
San Marino is a republic one of the oldest around and that is why it is
unknown. What, no princesses, no romantic castles or a mad king?
Sorry no. Just dry republicans, banks and a vinery and wild boars which
is of no interest to popular ladies´ magazines like “Halloo”.
In Serravalle, near the Apennine Alps; there is a butcher who specialises
in cured ham which has some claim to fame, and in San Marino,
the capitol city, there is a good restaurant. Humiliation, going through
life not knowing about this tiny republic its history and coinage; my shame
is total. Should you go there do not drive too fast, because before you
know it you are back in Italy, spaghetti Bolognese and smelly toilettes .
I went to see you on that day
You were late and I was there
I fell in love right there and then
Just the colour of your hair
You'd just had dinner when I came
Spaghetti bolognese
It was your favourite I was told
We had it many days
We walked through woods the two of us
We ran along the beach
We learnt each from each other
You were very quick to teach
We stayed together you and I
We thought it would not end
Until I heard them say one day
Now death would be your friend
I cried and cried and cried and cried
But did not let you see
That after you there'd be no more
You were the only one for me.
Now don’t be rude
Yes I like my food, ok it shows a little
Mmm blue cheese and crackers, got to have a pickle
Spaghetti Bolognese, muesli with blueberries
Chocolate of course and ice cream with cherries
Give me a steak of medium rare
A fresh rocket salad
better than a love ballad or a prickly pear
Seafood fresh from the ocean
Carrot cake like mother used to make
Tradition set in motion
Sunday roast, burnt toast
Well just a little overdone
Crème brulee , savoury soufflé second to none
Eggy bread, wine gone to my head
Cup of Earl Grey set on a tray for afternoon tea
Cucumber sandwiches just right for me!
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