Long Burrito Poems
Long Burrito Poems. Below are the most popular long Burrito by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Burrito poems by poem length and keyword.
California Pride
From San Francisco to Sauselito,
I transported a steaming hot burrito.
I have to Golden Gate to thank -
but for that bridge, I would have sank.
My brain is back in boxing form.
What? You think it's not norm-
al for a man to boast
from the California coast?
Sauselito
Sauselito has every vowel - neato!
Passive Aggression
Welcome to my house to dine,
fresh lemonade or turpentine?
Turpentine my beloved twit,
but I'll switch glasses when I see fit.
Van Gogh's Decoherence
Van Gogh's eyes were sensitive and keen.
When he painted a pastoral scene,
his ear picked up interference
and suffered impulsive decoherence.
The tang of pickled jalapenos lingers on my lips, making them poutier. When I met him, it was like an instant camera capturing a moment of pure love. His longing lips whispered a quiet hello in his native tongue, a dialect that warmed me. His love was unique, unlike any other.
My heart unfolded like a hot burrito,
and his looks smote me.
Two years later, I find myself lost in this love.
I am a poet.
i am the forgotten book,
i am the missing pages that were never publish
i am me, that girl: nobody wants to talk too
i am the missing link of what true love is all about
i am that sour burrito, you regret eating
Introducing my roommate Leong to my Saturday morning cartoon binge habit proved to be one of my BEST ideas EVER. She’s a very animated watcher, frequently laughing, gasping in horror and, in the end, delighted by these silly shows.
It’s almost a case for convergent evolution, how two creatures, from opposite ends of culture and the world can be so similar.
I find myself watching her, for her reaction, as much as the shows themselves - I’ve seen them before but I rediscover them vicariously and emotionally through her. We can spend hours dissecting character arcs and plot twists - we’ve found a small, stress-free heaven.
It’s 10:40am Sunday morning and Leong is dipping celery in barbecue sauce for breakfast again. “THAT’s just gross,” I deem, holding my hand up to block my view of this travesty.
“You should TALK,” she says, “Flexatarian!”
I gasped, like a slapped Chris Rock in the face of this naked aggression. “Why am I a flexatarian! I demand, my mind reeling for context, “because I ordered the potato burrito at taco bell?” I look around for some sort of rescue or validation, but we’re alone.
“That’s so FAUX,” I say, in an injured voice, shaking my head sadly. “I’m by the book carnivore,” I say, holding my fingers in a three-fingered girl scout pledge.
“And you have to live with that trauma,” Leong says, scooping an extra large dollop of sauce with her celery as I make gagging and heaving sounds.
.
slang
Flexatarian - someone who’s only a vegetarian when it’s convenient or showy.
faux - untrue
*Convergent evolution: how life evolves in certain predictable ways because they work the best. For example: how flying has evolved independently at least four times on earth: in birds, bats, insects, and pterosaurs. Ultimately, this theory predicts that we will meet other “humans” if we ever get out and explore the universe - those Star Trek green, human aliens may actually be real somewhere.
*I have a no “show off” rule which this may violate..
Twenty one Earth orbitz ago...
February fourth two thousand and twenty...
Shana Aubrey Harris
HAPPY BIRTHDAY GREETING,
albeit eleven days early
Countless years after papa
took thee and Eden
to favorite outing namely five below
other go to places included
Target, Old Navy, Chipotle,
and Santa Fe Burrito
four other bricks and
mortar sites thee dough
ting dada availed himself
ah... memories still echo
with sentimental emotions that flow
despite blur of intervening years
geesh...,how quickly ye did grow
already now high ho high ho
off to work and/or school ye go
still at times, I get teary eyed
sniffle... sniffle... sniffle
think drama and Shakespeare's Iago
analogous emotional family tension
my humblest apologies,
I may not really know
if high dudgeon ye felt toward me
opprobrious indiscretions
shenanigans (mine) generic Joe
cur overstepped bounds of decency,
whereat family dynamics attained little low
coe motion unfairly inflicting mo'
harm than good on innocent lass
forced to weather no
peace of mind, especially when living
at 1148 Greentree Lane - oh
when battle axe and henchmen
demanded we move
(reed get evicted) pronto
Harris family crisis took kamikaze nosedive
in one direction,
now I strive for status quo
and love how lee thee row... row... row
your boat gently down the stream.
How to break an addiction. Decide to live.
What can I learn from my pain. Danger.
And friends are merely friendly, live on independent
of your injury. You will not be missed in church on Sunday.
Grass. Weed, broccoli, burrito, stink, pot, skunk.
I'm talking blue grama, upland bent, smooth brome,
riverside panic, wild rye, fowl meadow, spike muhly,
sweet vernal, salt marsh, bristly foxtail, little bluestem.
Reefer is unhealthy, opens lesions in the brain,
wormholes into hell, yet should be legal. I'll vote that way.
It may ease the pathos into non-existence
well as meditation, bird watching, last will and testament.
Each joint hurts, rib joints, spine joints, skull plate joints.
The head and hip and heart will hurt, all three.
Insomniac I like the way bones crack and clack like
wooden wind chimes, an untuned piano, a tree rack of wornout shoes.
Never forget, the mind is the body paying attention
to what it's doing. Without that connection, each finger bent
or toe smashed is just added to the collection
of anonymous body parts of holocaust victims
in their mass graves. Better when every life saved
or lost is a front page story, an illusion of shared
sacrifice or joy, but that expresses only the surface
of our emotions. I'm mostly relieved to have survived.
I feel privileged.
I have been chosen by the Government
as part of a group testing something called
Edible Clinical Marijuana.
Honestly I half expected it to look like a Burrito
because the name sounds sort of Mexican.
It actually looks more like a brownie.
I’m am about to take a bite so hold on.
Yum,
tasty!
So here is the point
I am suppose to consume
one half of a brownie
then fill out this sheet
giving them my feedback.
Hold on
I am going to have a few more bites.
Okay,
no wait,
milk would go great
with these babies.
I’ll be back.
(after a long while)
OK, sew sorry I was gonna while
I was staring inside my fridge\
for a while'
tying to remember
I think I wanted a glass of ink%
aktiually I’m dinking from the bodle@
I am eating my forth brownie
as I was instructured to do;
Did they say four or? ate
cause these. are tasty
And/
aaaahhhhhhh,,
tasty^
tayysstee^
hahahahahahahahaha""
a program on my compuwhatyoucallit
keeps underlyning my words
with read squiggles=
hahahahahahahahaha
but it diidn’t underline squiggle#
hahahahahahahahaha
wel dats stoopid
squiggle isa perfect lee
good underlying word*
stoopid Bill Gated^
hahahahahahaha?haha
sorry I ment Will Gated~
so watt was I saying ]
oh yeah+
fill the sheet)
hahahahahahahahaha
I don wanna sheet,
tha is gaross[
heeres a pen
quesshun= Sex
easy!
ansir; yes- please)
hahahahahahahahaha
?why m i bein so polite
hahahahahahahahaha
queshun!
oh wow Blues Brothers on my TV
what was I spose? to do
oh yeah watch tv
why am i so angry hahahahahah++
hahahahahahahahaha
i mean hungary
haahahahahah
h u n g r y
dere hungry>
hey look
brownies?
those look good
hahahahahahahahaha
i con't tipe with mai mouth
full dats rood/rood
i'll get bak too dis later..
sew as they say
hahahahahahahahaha
two bee contitnude
No cereal with skim milk
That pastry is leaving doubt
Eggs are icky
Hot cakes sticky
Fruit is for monkeys
Toast is looking funky
Bacon! just feed me bacon
let it sizzle watch me dribble
The aroma to live
let me feast on the best of the pig
Biscuits and gravy I shrug maybe
Sausage or ham I'll be damn
Peanut butter and jelly now that's silly
Potatoes no gratefuls
Fried chicken and waffles sounds just awful
Let me explain, you can take names
For breakfast it has to be
Simply put in minor C
Bacon! Bacon! Bacon! Bacon!
Oatmeal get real
Cream of wheat to petite
Big juicy steak your to late
Breakfast burrito I'll pass
Doughnuts don't ask
Help me break my fast
Give me Bacon! Bacon! Bacon!
crispy chewy luscious bacon
Yummy in my tummy bacon
Give me Bacon!
We're all out?!
warm up the spaghetti...
"Humor can alter any situation and help us cope at the very instant we are laughing." –Allen Klein
A GOOD SENSE OF HUMOR BLUNTS THE SHARP BLADES OF REALITY
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I lay on the table, a modern-day sacrificial lamb,
pillow cradling my head, a fortress of foam and fabric.
Then came Velcro, the sticky embrace of a high-tech straitjacket,
my legs and wrists secured like a reluctant burrito.
Into the tube I slid, a terrified astronaut on a mission,
the ceiling loomed, a metallic sky, almost kissing my nose.
I clenched my hands until they turned white pondering
“Is this what it feels like to be a sardine in a can?
The sounds began, a symphony of whirs and clicks,
the MRI’s own version of a pop concert—
I imagined it had a fan club, “Team Tube,” with its own T-shirts
while I lay there, a star in a very narrow universe.
I tried counting, “one, two, three.” But sigh…
my thoughts were spinning like socks in a dryer.
I imagined bystanders strolling by, pointing and staring.
“Behold! Look at the sweating patient in the tube!”
The minutes crawled, like a snail on a treadmill.
“Perhaps I should have brought snacks
or at least a good book.” But alas, I was tethered,
a captive audience to my own claustrophobic anxiety.
So I lay still, the sounds swirling,
I chuckled softly, because if this is life,
then I might as well enjoy the ride,
even if it’s a little cramped and a little weird.
After all, who needs a spa day when you can have an MRI,
a slow, relaxing rollercoaster ride into the belly of the beast.
Oh, the absurdity of my situation, and the irony of it all—
Here I was, a human pretzel, searching for sanity inside the MRI.
Then, suddenly, the whirring ceased, the ceiling pulled back.
I emerged, a superhero in a hospital gown,
Velcro stripped away, ready to conquer the world
with a newfound appreciation for open spaces.
Poem written for “A Good Sense Of Humor Blunts The Sharp Blades Of Reality Poetry Contest,” Natasha L. Scragg, sponsor, July 29, 2025.
6/20/17
Aye
Okay
Here we go
My first and last initials are D.O
Paying haters little mind, and smacking 'em away like a mosquito
With the force of el Nino
Skills of Morpheus and Neo
Knowledge of C3PO
Been in and out of a few casinos
I've bought tools and supplies from the home depot
And liked tracks off the album sixobreezo
As well as a lot of music by man of no ego
My amigo knows how to roll up the good stuff, bigger than a burrito
And torpedo
Another homie makes me laugh, when he talks about cappuccinos
Or my other friend when he's got a bag of cheetohs
Meanwhile, worldwide cars and items occasionally got a repo
Realize there won't always be an opportunity for a T.O.
Better get on that, and quickly address the B.O.
Not yet have I had a P.O.
Or worn a tuxedo
I was good at sports and shooting ball even freethrows
A long time ago, my oldest sister had a Kia Rio
Spicy Gordita
Welove Mexican food.
With Tabasco.
What about spicy gorditas?
Show them what you're made of.
Gorditas means corn cakes.
Throw in the enchiladas to bake.
I love cinnamon sopapillas.
Tonight we are having a fiesta.
Tequila with lime.
Can you walk a straight line?
I’m not sure about corn cakes.
Weneed something stronger than paper plates.
What about fish tacos?
After a drink, go down below.
Have a super burrito.
Beans make you toot.
Just have everything spicy.
Have some guacamole on the side.
You could turn into a chimichanga.
With some quesadillas.
What is your taco name?
Mine is spicy corn cakes.