Enchilada Poems | Examples

Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah

Hello Muddah, hello Faddah,
I’m with Buddah, in Granada,
We had Christmas, in the Isthmus,
Where the misses for our kisses,
Can't resist us.

When my Buddah, wants asada,
He will never ask the mister for Posada,
If you order, enchilada,
He will belly dance for you,
And drink Horchata.

In His pleasance, for the peasants,
He will plead with Santa Claus for Christmas presents,
Rub His belly, make three wishes,
And you’ll never have to bathe,
Or wash the dishes.

If he’s hocking, Christmas stocking,
He will dress like Santa Claus to do the talking,
In the dharma, there’s no drama,
Like there is with His best friend,
The Smelly Llama.

For a long list, of Christmas-free friends,
Buddha likes to exercise by doing knee bends,
If we gotta, and we oughta,
Buddha meditates while dancing,
The Lambada.

Traits of My Character

Traits of my Character 

I lie often and without thinking 
I convinced myself I hate roses because most people love them 
I give the stray cats outside the Mexican restaurant bits of my enchilada 
I admire the French 
I’m sitting on my bedroom's raggedy carpet wondering 
What bits of my soul I could offer up 
To make you relate to me 
Or hate me 
To feel something 
About my existence 
I’m not loyal 
However I love baby’s breath and Bukowski 
Do you feel something yet? 
All the traits of my character
The wondrous little bits of humanity I cling to 
I’ve tried to dissect it for you 
But my paper remains nearly blank 
And my pen full of ink 
Who am I?

The Writers Box

So I write, I write and I write. 
I like to write. 
I like to write so I write.
There is no purpose 
There is no expenditure
There is no outcome
There is nothing other
than me writing.
I'm in a box now, writing
but I'm freaking out a bit
I never knew it would be like this.
I don't know what to write anymore
I'm in a box, in a box.
I've been in this box all this time.
I guess I should have known.
There was never anyway I could
write myself out of this box.
All this time I thought I could,
if only I was given half a chance.
But I was only lying to myself, 
or is it a lie, and I am fighting
back with the only thing that
makes any sense, the only 
endowment, the whole enchilada
yes, this big writing lying thing
is virtue that I thought I held
but never did, for it was me
And I was it.

Delivering a Pickle

“It’s a pickle, Puss,” her husband proposes.
“Is it sweet?” she probes.
“It’s a dill, Darling. Just what the doctor ordered.”
The doctor’s face, like vinegar. The nurse didn’t care
for pickles at all. She thought the pickle was a prop.
“No,” the doctor said, “It is a proper pickle and delicious,
though I’ve not tried it.” The nurse just stared
at the newest addition to the pickling jar. It’s junior size,
a miniature snack, at best. It won’t get any bigger.
“Get me a Gherkin!” the doctor yells, “Stat!”
“That’s not a pickle!” yells the wife,
“That’s not a craving. It’s a baby cucumber.”
“Well, I’ll be pickled!” the doctor laughs.
“What a quack!” whispers the husband to his wife.
To the nurse, “Get my wife a snack.”
The nurse brings in the prized pickle and the wife snatches
the giant jolly green, “Now, this will do quite nicely.”
And the couple lived happily ever after, unencumbered,
having the whole enchilada, well the prickly pickle, dear.

8/27/2022
Contest: It's A Pickle Party
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose

Credo

I have marked my place,
I stand now in the
bulging vein of the moment.
No more hunting for meaning
or for anti-meaning,
all socks are white or not.
I am here.
a one-sized loosely fitted mind,
a tick and cross 
on an illogical checklist,
acres stacked upon acres
of fifth dimensional 
doubt, faith, and gnosis,
a bottomless barrel of chewed-over laughter.
I am all things and nothing,
happy to be
whatever you see
and I will not
gainsay your worst opinions,
but embrace every layer of the onion
even though you cannot perceive 
the chameleon gifts
of my all too human superpowers,
or my agreeable acceptance
of your legendary life.
I am rooted in truth
and conspiratorial speculation
finding no fault in either
but still a knowing of what I am,
could have been or was.
I am raised up in my lowliness and glory
no longer there or anywhere
simply this kit and caboodle, this enchilada.
deeply sorry to be so unrepentant
and mostly happy to be sorry,
not a worry
or any flurry of guilt.
Expunged and indelibly revealed
as this ingenuity of self,
here now and gone
all along.

Prayer After Easter

I
Do we tire of thanking & gratefulness
I rush about, busy growing stress
Refocus eyes upon the  Cross, Jesus
I cannot pray unless I fully CONfess

II
A life, assume it's based on a lie
What matters but I'm happier, fire
Of Love, sacrifice, kindle and light
Up my children's faces, of my wife?

III
Apologetics poses: Jesus is liar, lunatic
Or the real ENCHILADA. Zero untruth
In one who never sinned on OUR earth
EASTER proves He left the tomb, defeated death
Thank You for a taste of soul success, fearlessness

Pleasure and Pain

I once ate a hot enchilada
to warnings I said yada yada 
	they had rightly said
	eat the mild instead
Next time I’ll order a tostada

Happy Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving; you hungry fool.
The skin on my bird is there for you.
The basted on butter and glisten for you.
That succulent flavor that sucks for you.

The Whole enchilada of soaks for you.
A roasted out pan of crust to view.
The happy black feeling that's burnt for you.
That slowly cooked bird I braised for you.

What lovely smoked flavor - the taste for you.
The charcoal based hunger - of thanks for you.
That Happy Thanksgiving I'll give to you.
The happiest day for joining two.

Tribute To Linda Poet Destroyer a Potd

Ay Chihuahua what a hot enchilada

Beguiling in her Dallas Cowboys letterman jacket

Flicker starlight in her eyes angel in beauty 

Raven waves of silk long hair 

Will torture your soul for just a small taste of her
 
A girly girl born to embraces her femininity, but a free spirited mujer, 

Burning the darkness riding her Unicorn

Through the calm majestic presence of the night

As music follows through the sky with a thirst of her poetry

A woman with lots of passion, sweet wishes, and wings for the night


7/17/2016 

A Tribute to a lovely person and poetess. 
Mujer- Spanish for woman

Tia Maria's Enchilada Blue Plate Special

Fragrant steaming plate
Smoky spicy chile green
Warm satisfaction




Something foul burning
Within my bowels churning
Gas apocalypse

3/7/16

Bring Out the Mexican In Me

Who am I, where am I from
I’m a girl who ancestors are from Mexico, Puerto Rico, and Panama
See me I don’t know the whole enchilada
My zodiac sign has to do with Aqua
I walk up to you and say, “ Hola amigo, como esta”
You reply to me and say,” Muy bien y tu.”
I say, “Bien mucho gracias.”
I can’t really have a conversation in Espanol
Because I only know boquito
Como te llamas, do you know mine
Me llamas est Preciosa
Me gusta el color Amarillo
You can walk up to me and bring out the mexican in me
Bring out the rice and beans
The whole encilada
Bring out the de le manana
I’ll get back to ya
If I saw you in  Puerto Rico I would say
Bueno? Que traes or oye tocayo
I will introduce you to my traditional food
Burritos
Enchiladas
Bolillos
Carne abada
You bring out the Mexican in me

Water Well of Wealth Within a Will

i swear to to tell the truth, the whole enchilada, nothing but it
dont short change yourself cause youre living on a budget
turning green, hulking out, and slippin superheros cryptonite
narrowing insight cause youd rather fight than try to take flight
the right two cents is worth more than a fortune or goodluck
shine longer than days in june, youre someones sunshine, chin up
flippin it neutral to hot, making a cycle with lightbulbs, spreadin love tenfold
hate tends to fold, tho hearts eventually all turn cold, meanies suck
while nice people swallow, opposite of hollow, prophesies will follow
there is always tomorrow, a new day, beauty always on the cusp
i live life with a lust, thirst never being drowned, this idea profound
ringing in my ears louder than a guns sound

Damn the Torpedoes

Damn the torpedoes

Damn the torpedoes the Yanks did say,
When duds hit a Jap ship and fell away,
Firing pins weren’t working well,
One sub loosed 13 didn’t break the spell,
Just sometimes one was right.
Bloody thing would ignite,
And the Yanks would bloody yell.

Nineteen fourty four, pins good now for sure,
Sam Dealy and  submarine Harder,
Transporting Aussies to Borneo, for,
To upset the Japanese pardeners,

Muiat Suki, Jap  Destroyer, 
charged the submarine,
Head on was sitting Harder,
1100 yards Dealy fired 3 torpedoes, i mean,
Chopped the fork out of his enchilada,

Next day at 650 yards,
 Destroyer Hayanani came,
3 torpedoes hit this Destroyer,
Too many holes it was a shame,
Blew the fork out of his nighty, 
Just the same,
The Reaper danced, begorrah,

Z Force men went ashore again ,
Into the wilds of Borneo, and then,
Ole Harder went a hunting men,
Of the Japanese type of fauna.

Don Johnson


Submarine Tinosa (ss283 ) July 24th 1943, attacks Japanese oiler No 3 Tonam Maru west of Truk, Tinosa fires 15 torpedoes 13 hit but only 2 explode. Tonam Maru   is towed to Truk by light cruiser Izuzu and used as a floating oil storage tank.

Dreamer Resting In Practical Arms

s/he was a dreamer
resting in the practical arms of a lover who
stayed safe &
happy within the context of which 
s/he had been born into---
no cards switched on the table
no getting up to take a piss during the game &
the hand dealt 
was the only hand that mattered,
whilst the big dreams of the other lover
spewing from her/his mouth
filled the room with the kind of thoughts that can put out the 
fire---
for what is present is never enough for the dreamer &
when the dreamer starts to swim around in the cocktail of 
“love,”
their heads can come really really close to
exploding,
wanting the whole enchilada
(whatever the **** that is),
wanting a hollywood romantic comedy 
with a happy ending that would bring sappy tears to the eyes of
a homicidal maniac
waiting in the wings to take office
with a finger on the button &
the middle on the other hand
flipped up at the surrounding world---
so the practical lover counts the days
because the timer has only a few left before it dings &
this is all over,
since you just can’t satisfy the
unsatisfiable.

On Being Blessed

Bestowal with the whole enchilada
eliminates having to choose
between oatmeal
and jalapenos.

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