Long Chillies Poems
Long Chillies Poems. Below are the most popular long Chillies by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chillies poems by poem length and keyword.
What!
Coffee can is empty
He saw in the bin
Earlier,
It's aroma diffuses around the room
Awake, but right on bed he rests
So, it soothes.
Early in the morning
He likes to taste
Inspiration flows afterward
He thought:
My coffee am sure is waiting for zips
Activates the body and re-awakens the memory
Fingers grip the pen and write tirelessly
He chuckles
As the sweet smell of the coffee continues...
He could hear the clinging of wares from the kitchen
Baby is ready for school, he guessed
And coffee is there in the kettle
He smiles
Rhythmically,
He walks and whistle to bath
Freshen up then straight to dine
Alas!
Noodle past garnished with
chillies and shrimps in plate
Why?
Coffee cup is deprived of content
He gazed
So,
...She drank the coffee he smelled
She would be inspired instead
He thought.
Oh!
What a regret
He thought of coffee.
Take a pot, heat it hot.
Scratch it dry.
Scrape up any brown, dry left-over bits.
Check the sides as well.
Sniff the seance of conjured smells.
Imbibe the well-up of wafting aromas.
OK, now, dry-run done, you've begun.
Note: To cook this soup, make your own stuff up,
nothing packaged, tinned, frozen, dried or jarred, please.
For concoctions make less happenstance.
All the come-up essence is drained, abstained.
Add 3, 6 or 9 cups of hot chicken stock to the hot pot,
not cold, lest it splatter and scatter.
Add any amount of any kind of vegetables you like,
Color, crunch, bite and texture is what you're after.
Crinkle-cut the veggies in hotchpotch of shapes and sizes.
Make triangles, squares, diamonds, heart and tears.
Heaven-forbid not slices, dices, cubes or julienne spears.
Simmer briskly and brusquely.
Stir to get the veggies spinning and swirling,
prancing like steeds and mares on merry-go round,
up and down, round and round,
all the colors and shapes,
promenading around on show.
Next, season liberally and decidedly,
with salt, chillies and pepper.
Then, add a cacophony crescendo of herbs and spices.
Don't hold back, go on, let it go and all hang out.
Make your taste buds stand-up and take notice,
Add heaps of umami, to your bouquet garni of herbs.
Simmer revealed, fully naked, with the lid off,
until all is tender and nice done.
Serve in bowls, hot and steamy,
with shredded and torn
mere mortal, morsels
of crusty bread.
Soupers as lovers unite, with spoons and bowls held high,
All soups from broths to chunky chowders, they'll try.
Making steamy affairs in poems that burn and delight,
To fill the world with soup, that's their plight!
With spoons like scepters, ladles toppled full for the fight,
They struggle as wordsmiths with all their might!
Adding chillies, spices and herbs, to en-flame the brew,
They take aim with stakes to drive into apathy's stew.
So here’s to all soupers, lovers of muse, noble and true,
As they dish up their broths, lost souls, to bring to,
With their bouillon and bisque, mulligatawny and minestrone.
Let's say bon aperitif to them all, with a hoot, yippee and whoopee!
Pat Flynn and his ass live in Inchicore
Pat lives in the house with the bright red door
The ass drinks stout but let me tell you more
He won the the gold cup in 'eighty four.
Flynn went to the race's to place a bet
Got chatting to people he'd only just met
They thought with Flynn they'd have the craic
And put hot chillies' in the ass's sack.
He munched and chewed and ate the lot
The chillies' took hold, he was off like a shot
He crashed through the fence, up went the wire
He needed a drink his mouth was on fire.
He took the lead, the crowd were on their feet
The ass was gasping and dying from the heat
One more lap to go he was still ahead
Flynn was worried that he'd drop down dead.
He crossed the line the crowd did roar
The ass carried on then fell to the floor
Flynn rushed over with a glass of stout
And poured it down the ass's mouth.
He soon recovered and to this day
Has a bottle of black stuff with his hay
His mouth's still hot the heat never died out
And that's why Flynn's ass likes his stout.
Written 25th November 2017
5.
is it true love
or i do take it granted
that i’m in love
or i do love to think
that i’m loving
and there is
neither any welcome address
nor any opening song
in my love
my experience with heat of fire
and with burning pain
in the flames of water
is nothing less
6.
in course of burning
i look around
the chilly-plant in the tob
planted in my won-hand
producing green-chillies
oh-ho how sweet they are
it is no chilled-body
that has earned
my life or death
no remarkable mark
is endorsed
on the lotus-leaf
now easily some words
can be written
on you
i don’t know whether
those would be at all
some lines of a poem
7
someone falls in loves
someone makes love
love comes to some another
there is the far-off
whispering
at first she constructs me
then destroys rightly
i notice her
for the first time in six weeks
the love
that writes
in the footnote of the tennis-ball
a desperate struggle for existence
within our skull
there is the love
or the midnight of the orion
the little squirrel asked now
are you in your seventies
or eighties
those houses with the coating of
the sky the air the light-and-shade
provide me with the presentation of
a wig and
a set of artificial teeth
8.
the love
that touches the hand
in drizzling
the love
that gets lost in the brandishing
grasses
would they want to inform
that the flowers don’t have any skyscraper
in the layers of the flesh and blood
of the detergents
as if a whole human civilisation has been suffering
from suppressed pain
within it with the dry spell of
anger and cough
the time
had there been no feeding from the love
does the human civilisation stagger
9.
do you think those words
or it’s myself
whatever may you say now
i’ll travel within a great death
to die
rather after my demise i may tell
i’ve informed everyone …look
beneath the large evergreen flower tree
the game of light and shadow continues
beside those simple households
besides a high-head mobile-tower
what else would you like to be
is it a bath in the ganga-river is it a leaf
of the water-lily or it’s a king-cobra
tell me
i would now make love
with that idea from you
Six-Word Couplet Series
Lie spy
Innocent victim dies
Novichock poisoner lies
No deal Brexit
Has Theresa May
Had her day?
Donald Trump
He’s a deadbeat -
Read daily tweet!
Is he really the President
Donald is reckless
Ruthless and feckless
Pure indulgence
I devour candy
Whilst drinking brandy
Burning from both ends
Oops, I forgot
chillies are hot!
Vasectomy Clinic Appointment
Undoes his zip –
Time for snip!
Sponsored by Mark Toney
Six-Word Couplet Series Contest
9/22/18
P - Perched on a fruit bearing tree you will see me
A - Attracting everyone with my alluring colours
R - Ripe fruits are my all time favourite
R - Red chillies too I love to eat
O - Often I imitate human voice
T - Talking my pictures is great fun
That was past.
Now I live in a cage, a lonely life,
I can't move much, cannot fly,
no one to talk to, no family,
I wish I was not so beautiful,
I wish I couldn't imitate humans...
Please set me free. I beg of you.
With the coming of corona,
you would have hopefully,
understood my plight.
At least now set me free!
One thing is for sure,
if man doesn't set free all in his captivity,
he will be caged in his house forever.
Date: 7/22/2020
While the waves lash the shores and splash in soft music
The dishes we serve here in this Golden Grain restaurant
Emanate aroma into the nostrils a pungent sweet exclusive
Have you visited this earlier too or how are you insouciant
A sip of sweetly sour sea food clear soup with tofu in your mouth
While on your hair the wind from the Arabian Sea plays its tickles
As you change your seat for the cool wind coming from the south
Our gracious waiters serve you mouth watering sea food pickles
Tasting the cheesy tuna salad as you share your moments with sea
The boundless sky above invites you to look at its cracked blue art
We are mystified if we will have the listen and sight or have the glee
In Sorpotel with rice, the Goan cuisine we must take to fill our heart
Made of pork in spices coconut vinegar and green chillies
Sorpotel is the essence of Christian gastronomy of Goa
The pungent and little salty flavor will without doubt ease
Your fatigue and more so if you take chunks of chilly soya
To which delight you will employ your perception is
A challenge as your eyes are amazed at the sight of
Seagulls in front of the restaurant leaving the breeze
Have become scavengers in their wing-spread hops
There is the all time favourite basil leaf spread lovely
Pizza dough of Phoenix with a crisp but chewy crust
Made by our chef himself who learned his art at Italy
Sweet salty pizza margheritta of ours take you must
Bebinca you all have to take in its full seven saffron layers
Get the personification of Goan spirit in this unique dessert
While listening to and looking at the splashy music players
Nonetheless your taste buds seek the sweet food for a flirt
Golden Grain is a golden moment in the golden sea beach
Do step in and taste the food with waves within your reach
_____________________________________________________
9/9/2016
For My imaginary restaurant - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
As I wake up in the morning
Scent of freshly bloomed jasmine floats in air
I walk out to the garden
Fresh blooms sway in wind
I walk toward night jasmine tree
Pick up fallen flowers
They smell heavenly
Placing them in living room
I start my day with ginger tea
I grate ginger add water and boil
Smell of ginger and then tea leaves...
Aroma of ginger tea fills the house
After tea, for breakfast I take out all ingredients
Fresh coriander, green chillies, jaggery asafoetida, gooseberries
Each gives out a distinct aroma
As I eat, I savour the aroma of freshly ground ingredients
For lunch, I use another set of spices
Cinnamon, garlic, cloves, turmeric, chillies, nutmeg
Fragrance of basmati rice mixed with spices and clarified butter feels divine
When sun goes off to sleep, night jasmine blooms
I sit in garden with a cup of coffee
Aroma of fresh coffee, and jasmine gives bountiful joy
Everything in nature has a distinct perfume
Smell of wet mud, smell of sea, smell of leaves
Each fruit and vegetable smells differently
All humans have distinct body odour
Aromas de-stress us,
Smell tells us a thing is good or bad
During a walk in nature trail,
multifarious unique scent caress us.
It is healing and happiness giving
God has perfumed everything for us to enjoy
Be in the moment, enjoy.
22.03.2021
Placed 1st in Brain Strand contest
Placed 2nd in favourite scent contest by Chantelle Anne Cook
Kavanaugh the Jury’s out, guilty or not guilty... you decide!
Supreme judge divine
or lying swine?
Suspect Diaper
Smelly and crappy
must change nappy!
Phew what’s that smell
Left parting ‘gift’
farted in lift!
Hangover from hell
Too much drink ...
sick in sink
Burning from both ends
Oops, I forgot
chillies are hot!
Vasectomy Clinic Appointment
Undoes his zip –
time for snip!
Goodness Gracious Great Balls of Fire
Driving his car -
dropped his cigar!
Six-word couplet series Encore
Sponsored by Mark Toney
10/7/18