Dined Poems | Examples

Words of My Ancestors

By moonlight when the moon shone with all her majesty, 
My ancestors told us the story of the Tiger,
Which crouched at every rumble of the jungle-thunder,
Either out of fright or from bravery;
Tiger, male and ferocious,
With wicked fangs,
Tiger which breathed fire upon the foliage that shielded
Our village from the rage of the sun,
Which raped lady antelopes with utter contempt,
Which dined lavishly on forest flesh 
And wined drunkenly on hunters’ blood,
Which knew no honesty,
And which turned wild upon them,
My ancestors,
Season after season,
In rain and in harmattan,
Until one fine day
When the forest trembled with the screams of
The beast, beaten on its own tracks,
With roars of terror ending when the moon
Slid between the witnessing clouds.

Premium Member Diners Club Welcome!

Of my nose, Pop said, he could not save

Thru his laughter, told me to be brave

Blood hit the ground and froze

Still, it gushed like a hose

Soon after, the dead, rose from the grave 


Their pennies popped when they saw the flood

So, they dived on top and dined on blood

But, once they had their fill

They used the rest for swill

And left me face down, drained, in the mud


Then they turned their attention to Pop

He kept screaming and told them to stop 

But, they all kept going 

One hell of a showing

They said he was good to the last drop


Premium Member Ever-Higher

   Hopes aspire
     ever-higher

     wined and dined
     to merge inclined

   Once admired ~
     forever acquired

Premium Member BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY'S

BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY'S*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
While nibbling on French croissant so fine,
Audrey sipped coffee, feeling divine.
     She struck a pose, twitched her chin,
     The staff oohed, awed, gave a grin,
At bunny who dined with glamor and shine!

“Oh, daaaarlings,” she said with a flair,
“I’ll nibble on pink pearls, I swear!”
     “I’m Holly Golightly,”   
      She said most contritely. 
This dazzling bunny made Tiffany's rare!”

*"Breakfast at Tiffany's" is a 1961 romantic comedy film directed by Blake Edwards, starring Audrey Hepburn as Holly Golightly, a quirky socialite in New York City. The film is based on Truman Capote's novella and explores themes of love and identity. (Source: Wikipedia)

Premium Member Incoherence

I knew that the water I saw was a mirage.
Unfathomable depths seemed shallow when measured.
This is a world where facts and fancies camouflage
Within wombs of empty tombs, riches are treasured.

The sketch that looked like a wall was, in truth, a pole.
Beasts that dined on guavas at night weren't crows but bats.
My crammed glance makes the earth resemble a ball
I pause and cut short my tours, confronting black cats.

Peeping through the holes of Qutab Minar, I faint.
Shouldn't I reach the top? Should I simply go back?
With colours of likes and dislikes my walls I paint.
With burdens of pessimism, my corridors crack.

Are these angels I find herein mere illusions?
Are these candours that have been tested, delusions?


Premium Member Caviar for a Czar

I’ve never dined on caviar,
The finest instead, a Mars bar.
No palace key for this housing Czar
Sip water alone, not at a gilded bar.

The challenge must be taken on the chin
And not merely with audacious spin
A moratorium won’t fix the cause
Of that usurious interest clause
And gestures from the righteous
To address this crisis
Have long past worn thin

Though life is well-equipped with knocks
Nonetheless, the misery clocks
And platitudes from a soapbox
Won’t outfox a notice
Sliding through the letterbox

There’s no bright light from the corporate sphere,
Shining down on hardship, here
Though those with good jobs try to spread cheer
Their lives are not as good as they appear
With some sleeping in a car
Obtaining meals from Spar, just near.

Premium Member From darkness to light

Ignorance, desire and action,
gives our wayward ego traction,
causing us to struggle and strive,
to find joy and satisfaction.

Our endeavour’s to stay alive,
means any, we try to survive,
refusing to slow down thought flow,
dwelling not in our heart’s bliss hive.

Who in truth we are, we don’t know,
yet allow ignorance to grow,
which then births suffering and pain,
piling up debts of love we owe.

In arid lands, we pray for rain,
seeking outcomes becomes the chain
we wear, floundering like the blind,
reborn here again and again.

Wherever we have wined and dined,
is a memory left behind
and as all echoes ebb away,
we are to our dark fate resigned.

To find bliss that does always stay,
meld head with heart, sit down and pray,
that as polarities unite,
clear light dawns and life becomes play.

When we see we are living light,
we yield to God, give up the fight
and in doing so, we then rise,
heart pure like snow, our aura white.

Premium Member Blossomed With Desire

In the early days of Summer
I still lingered on the vine
not yet ripe enough for picking
not ready to be sipped as fine wine

Soon, I blossomed with desire
It raged deep down inside of me 
burning me like tongues of fire
I needed only to be tenderly peeled
When his fingers gently touched me
the time had come for me to yield

With sensuous lips he coaxed me
On passion's hunger we both dined
through each night until dawn's light
he suckled my sweet summer wine

Premium Member Portrait of an Enigma

     I knew a gent
       ramrod straight
     meticulously dressed

     Shoes laced tight
       polished to a ‘t’
     Vest, exquisite timepiece 

     Punctual meant
       ten minutes early
     Sipped tea, no coffee

     Poker face, played whist
        dined fastidiously
     Folded the ‘financials’ just so	

     No hint of a lady or passion
        when he vanished
     His timepiece was found, stopped

Premium Member Dancing To Emerald Past


There was an old man who marched in Belfast,
wearing shamrocks danced to emerald past.
        On St. Patrick’s fancy day
        in ceilithe he dined by bay,
saw the snakes slither slow, turning green fast.

Blue Cheese

My mother likes blue cheese.
She said it was an acquired taste,
Only the most sophisticated,
Dined on it’s musky scent.
Though I hated blue cheese,
I swallowed it down.
Hard.
Grotesque.
There was nothing I hated more than blue cheese.
But if it meant being accepted,
I’d pretend.
Over time,
Blue cheese became my friend.
It made me laugh.
It comforted me when no one else could.
Who cares if blue cheese hits hard?
Is grotesque.
Was terrible to no end—
Blue cheese made me feel loved.
So I’ll ignore the abuse.
I’ll pretend.
After all, 
My mother liked blue cheese.

Premium Member Behold The Man


"Behold the man!"  Pilate, Governor of Judea
                                   26-37 CE.

He had such a Longing Desire to share those
Special Moments with them. He then rose from
the table and prepared to wash their Feet.
BEHOLD THE MAN!

As they dined and shared the communion, it appears
that they drank from a common cup and ate from
a common loaf. They were indeed 'Family'.
BEHOLD THE MAN!

What a Humbling and Lovely Moment, far beyond
Anyone's expectation. He washes his disciples feet,
employing a Model he wished that they would follow.
BEHOLD THE MAN!

He expresses a deep felt Emotion about what was
Soon to happen.  He knew that they all would forsake him
and run, but yet, he continued to believe in them.  And
inspite of knowing what Judas would shortly do against
him, there is no indication that Judas was denied the
Priivaledge of Communion.
BEHOLD THE MAN!

There was No Shortest of Love being expressed to Judas.
Even at the moment of betrayal, Jesus addressed Judas
as Friend'.  There is no distance too far nor depth too low
that God will not avail his love toward us.
Indeed. BEHOLD THE MAN!

Premium Member Shallow Hours

In Shallow Hours, graves are dug 
By words morose, 

Their hollow powers seem mundane, 
But are much worse.

Being Lonely in a crowded room, 
With empty words 

Muttered by survivors; 

Whose frosty breath in time, 
With second hand, 

Will still ones heart with breach of mind 
From gestures grand; 

So gentle souls as we, 
Will speak no more about it.

This too shall pass as melancholy.
Whispered mischief of the gods; 

The poisoned fruit of folly.

As seasons run their course; 
Whose touch so coarse, 
Flow unrefined. 

A baking of our Maker's choice, 
Upon which we have dined.

Too many courses chose 
Again, the Blackened Rose. 
Life without salience 
For such as those.

Naked She,
No longer seductress, 
Temptress to youth 

Our lives attempt atone.

Experienced eyes, now show revealed; 
A Harlot to the bone.

What drug could so impair? 
What game be more unfair?

What beauty in beholder's eye, 
Less rare?

False Gods flail.

Chariot wheels on ipad screens 
In most minute detail.

Now kiss your new God
Soft upon His cheek 

And in a moment, through Alexa,  

He may speak.

Premium Member Bourbon Street

My beloved late husband and I
once strolled down Bourbon Street,
on a mild winter's afternoon.
The musicians enchanted the
atmosphere,
as sparrows lent their own songs.
We dined on gumbo al fresco
with friends,
Spanish Moss clothed ancient trees.
It wasn't yet Mardi Gras,
but we felt so festive,
with her old-time buildings
and eccentric people,
all those years ago.

This New Year's Day,
New Orleans mourns again,
her heart has the wound of loss,
as some of her innocent revelers
died an untimely and unforseen death.
The city of celebration,
candlelit for remembrance. ~

Premium Member Definite Dinah does not Change Her Mind

Definite Dinah definitely doesn’t change her mind
Ferociously feeling firm in all ideas, she will find
Kids maneuver around her; she is not awfully kind
When she bargains and barters, it is legally bind

We saw Dinah debating where we usually dined
Warning the waiter she almost never will change her mind
He appreciates the heads up; said we were kind.
I notice his palm is unusually magically star-lined.
He is a find, says Dinah, he truly is one of a kind.

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