Kitchen Poems - Poems about Kitchen

Today I declared war on my own laziness— no more delivery apps, no more surrender. I would conquer pasta. First victory: water bubbling on the stove. Time to add salt— but my hand betrayed me, half the shaker tumbling into innocent water. The pot became a miniature Dead Sea. Fine, I muttered, tossed in the pasta and drifted to my phone, already tasting glory— al dente perfection. Minutes melted by. Then—the horror: pasta demands attention. I...

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He tastes the salt before he knows he's shed a tear He'd always been a staggering man Since his Army days known by most simply as Big Roy Now he's a staggered man This night, curved and hunched Bags so heavy and dark under his eyes They'd just as well be rotten figs about to fall And splat and stain the ground...

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I've oft been offered but not tempted by large helpings of pie in the sky from too many crooks who indeed the broth did spoil and so as not to be sullied by such greasy oil I stay out of their kitchen not because I can't stand the heat but what's on their menu ain't my cup of meat apple or cherry by the slice...

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There's a terrible smell in the kitchen like rotting fruit or a dead mouse high and lonesome, eye-watering thin and whispering, fuzzy with grief Whenever I think I've located it it goes into hiding You can bleach the sink and empty the bins look under the table and behind the cupboards, but you won't find it any of those places...

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It's been 9 days since I've posted in PS because of being needed by my sister. She's progressing, but very slowly. Thank you to those who've expressed your concern and offered prayers for her recovery. My granddaughter is over her crisis. I've had little time or desire to peek into PS, but from what I've...

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Around the kitchen I was bumbling with pots and pans see me fumbling for something yummy with an empty tummy it was rumbling took a long hard look and now I'm mumbling as there's not a lot to cook but bread crusts crumbling long past their sell-by date it's ever-so humbling but there's no point at all this late in grumbling about standing the heat or beating a retreat but better yet...

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When cooking something hot, The oven mitts you grab. Pulling them on, you think, “Am I a wanna-be crab?”...

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I walk into the kitchen, hands not ready. Out and in again. Walk out without food....

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there’s something wondrous about a country kitchen its big sunny panes and open windows that welcome the summer breeze and every perfume nature offers to mindful eyes pointed at the vast outdoors on everything that lives and breathes in harmony AP: Honorable Mention 2025...

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ever really knowing if I'm coming or going meanwhile what am I to do with you as somewhat akin under the skin yet now quite skint but taking a sprint and just for fun making a dummy run if I may say it's leave or stay quite the conundrum of all things the sum but when it's said and done of the be and end-all none for should you ever think...

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the greatest classroom I ever sat in was my mother's kitchen she said give what you want if you get it back stay if you don't leave she said you might not ever get a degree in law but you damn well better get a degree in people she said you cannot have an independent mouth and a...

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Ollie onion had never been this mad in his life He turned all his anger on the kitchen knife How dare you try to peel me, you interloper, he said. The knife was embarrassed, his face turned red. I did not know that you were alive, he admitted. No one told me this, I am confused, he spitted. Ollie was not...

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There’s a whale in my kitchen He wandered in through my sink My cousin does some ’n She is mean as the missing link Ma says he takes Lulu’s groove The whale laughed at Lulu’s plight I say let the freeloader move Asked whale to stay all night...

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Mouse turds in the kitchen In the soup and on the pie Mouse turds in my kitchen sink I truly want to cry Mouse turds on my sandwich Boy that mouse is fast! Mouse turd trail along the floor Now the die is cast...

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Written: March 22, 2025, for contest sponsored by Craig Cornish *********************** In the heart of my kitchen spices exude their aromatic allure a harmonic blend of flavors coddiwomples mute grief. . . cimmerian saudade in...

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