Long Cook Poems
Long Cook Poems. Below are the most popular long Cook by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cook poems by poem length and keyword.
She loved our First Nation Cafe
from the primal blessed moment
just before she first could not yet think
of this cooperatively-owned communal place.
As other than some sacred space
She has liturgically revisited
and faithfully communed each starlight night
within secular developing
Right hand prominent wombs.
It felt right and left good
that everyone she saw blending local grown organic juices
fueled by fresh air-turbine bikes
pedaled by consumers
drinking juice from outside
community cooperative garden beds
fertile through compost from FairShare coffee grounds
brewed right there
All cooperatively honeyed
pollinated
owned and self-managed
by those who blend nurturing waters
fueling healthy blood
heart and mind and embodied
by those who heart pump the bikes
and therapeutically mind step the hydro-milling anthemed steppers
and build green capturing solar panels outside
and sing
and dance
and improvise farming and gardening and incubation networks
tell bold new creation love stories
share organically resilient skill sets
cook and preserve local nutrition harvests
design and play WinWin on-line and off-line
deep learning green-STEM Games.
This First Nation Cafe re-creation place
feels like cooperative organic network space
for liberally loving ecoconsumers
and ego-conserving health producers
to ecoschool
and ecovillage
eco/theo-logical after school
and on through each vespered late night regeneration
candle lit inside
star lit campfire outside
nights of lovely ultra-violent FullMoon
through NewMoon full-shadowed integrity
of water-bears
and their synergetic spear-carriers.
He lived this First Nation Cafe
from primal blessed first cooperative moment
just before she first could not yet charge intuition
for this cooperatively-owned communal place
of mutual Wonder.
Yes Darling I will marry you,
It makes my dreams all come true.
To be your wife is all I need
To love and cherish you is my deed.
I’ll wash for you and cook for you
Until the day I die,
I’ll clean and polish it up for you
If you promise not to lie.
I’ll do all these things without a whine
If you will love me all the time
But one thing I will not do, for it will make us part,
Is wash your underwear because I have seen the marks.
We are happy now as we can be, he’s never played golf in his life
This is a made up fantasy, I’m happy to be his wife.
Thirty – Three years our marriage has lasted,
And grows stronger every year
Two grown sons, tall and proud can make us shed a tear.
With love for each other we are happy to be,
ALMOST an ideal family.
Honey Am Home!
At last, here I am, back to our nest, back to your arms!
Say, what have you prepared for dinner?
I wanted to eat a special dish
How about an Indian dish or even an Italian one?
Darling, am home too!
You had a good day at work?
Well I had a most horrible day
My boss yelled and fussed for every little issue
He even dared to call me a lazybone
Forget all about him honey
Now that we are back home together
We shall erase all of our problems
We have to work in life
And with work comes a lot of problems
I have an idea
Let us go and eat out
I am too tired to go in the kitchen
Let us have a blast night out
Like we used to do when we first met
Oh honey, I miss those times too
But what can we do about it
We have no money
We hardly have any time left
Besides now, we are like an old couple
But cook something at least
Do you believe that a woman's place is in the kitchen?
We have now equal rights
Men and women are both uprights
And if I can cook, so can you!
Honey, I am fed up with everything
Do you think you are the only one with problems
I have had a hard day as well
And I am trying to make everything alright
You could make an effort too!
I knew I shouldn't have married you
You are just so full of yourself
I am going to sleep
See what you want to do
Goodnight!
Darling!
Hello! My dear
Your birthday is ahead
Let’s plan a candle light dinner
I will cook your favorite dish to relish
Roasted turkey, corn soup, fried salmon, main menu
Grilled lamb, baked tuna as appetizer
Sherry and champagne with fruit salad
Ice cream, chocolate tart
Take as dessert
Relax!
My dear
Listen to me
You are my only guest
Dim light will make us feel cozy
We will take sweet fragrance of the food
We will lick, we will sip, we will drink full
We will dine, we will dance, being crazy too
Taste my cooking, test our passion
Please come with scarlet red rose
Honor my amour
Propose.
My cousin Finn was raving about the new dish at Claude’s Diner.
There is no appetizer better, truly nothing finer.
They call it Chestnuts roasting over an Open Fire.
I had to run out and try it, I had such a desire!
Are you sure? Asked the waitress, my Auntie Maude.
Oh, yes, I said, staring past her at the cook Mr. Claude.
Claude began cooking and Maude left, her grin bright.
Guess what it is? She asked as I gave the dish another big bite.
Chestnuts? I guessed, but it truly tasted much more like meat.
You are not even close, she told me. Do you think they are sweet?
The best of the best. What is the secret? What special stuff does he put in?
Mountain oysters, or deep fried bull testicles, said my amused cousin, Finn.
Once upon a Witch full thought
Deceit and hate on her mind
An Evil Wicked Witch living in Witchcraft Manor planning to terror on everyone
Turning human into Evil toads for the Witches bidding
The Wicked Witch had been terrorizing all the citizens in Fernwick Center
Citizens who were humble and thankful
Happy people in family togetherness and love
The Evil Witches wanted to change good into bad
Determined to reign and turn people into her slaves
Punishment detail came to people that didn’t behave
Into the hot pot cook
Serving to her liking and taste
Scare rang through the air in shook
Casting all kinds of incantations causing fear
Darkness that came even though it was day
Total atmosphere change that the Wicked Witch could control
Spell here and there
Eventually everywhere
Promises
Designated to follow through
Nothing new
Attempt to pursue
One day, the Wicked Witch herself will be thrown into a pot being the stew and concluding with a slew.
You believe you’re the prize, your beauty your only claim,
but beauty fades; character remains.
In twenty years, what will you be?
Will you grow wiser, kinder, and free?
Will you strive for your best, or settle for the mundane,
or will you rise, climb higher, leaving the ordinary behind?
Do you seek validation, your worth reflected through me?
I am focused; I’m grinding, a man with a purpose to change my destiny.
Women don’t care for a man’s silent war,
they care only that we hold the power, the strength to become more.
A modern man must know the skills for himself:
to cook, to clean, to work, to build wealth.
Yet peace is rare, battles constant and real;
each day, another weight, testing our will.
And so, I pray my sons steer their own course,
be captains of their lives, embracing their force.
May they ride life’s waves, strong and free,
and find the peace I’ve yet to see.
My favorite artist...so many there are
Not the pianist, not the guitarist, not the shining star
My favorite artist...are the silent ones
The warriors, the dear hearts...the smiling suns
The Wolf of Chicago, the Barden of Maine
And you, my friend...whom be'eth your name
Myself, I include, though conceded...I'm not
I just like what I write, and I just like it a lot
But my favorite artist, and thou do not lie
Are the many poets, that capture...my eye
So, frankly my dear...my favorite artist is a group
And they are all of the fine poets, here...in PoetrySoup
Your Favorite Artist Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cook
11/3/2019
If only there's a rewind,
I 'll stay at home each day.
Watch the movies, play in pen.
Cuddle my kids, tickle them.
Wait the whole day 'til they arrive.
Cook them a soup when it rains.
Give them a warmest hug,
when they reached home after school.
Help them do their assignments,
Be the best mom as I can be.
Collect the pieces of time that I missed.
Return the value I once taught them.
Regain the memories when we're together.
If time permits...
I'll go back to the place where I lived.
Have a rest in my old bed,
Sing the songs until I lose breath.
Play with my furry friends.
Hide above the roof and dreams.
Watch the sky as it pass by.
Tell the wind to blow mild.
I wish I can still grab a time.
To be myself, do what I want.
I'm tired....
If only I can stop the time.
My driveway is packed with the cars
of friends and family,
chips put out, and the little ones
are running joyously.
A cooler filled up with bag ice
keeps cold soda and beer,
I think half the folks I know
were able to get here.
I stand over a charcoal grill,
today it is my thing,
propane may work in a pinch,
but briquettes remain king
Coals seer some discount longhorn steaks,
bought from a friend of mine,
will turn the meat ninety degrees,
get perfect grill-mark lines.
My vegan niece sits not far off,
always looks thin and ill,
ready to tell everybody:
“It’s not okay to kill!”
As if the plants she likes to eat
didn’t go to their death,
some day she might see how it is,
but she ain’t got there yet.
The youngsters go high on the swings,
I hear metal chains squeak,
one even gets up far enough
to brush against some leaves.
Every few moments one flies off,
and lands half-stumbling,
turns back to his cousins and cries:
“That jump was amazing!”
The older kids are further back,
shagging some fly-balls down,
they mix it up with fast bouncers,
racing across the ground.
Inside men sit and watch the game,
share opinions on sports,
each convinced they know the deal,
which players to exhort.
Not a word of work goes around,
and to me that’s just fine,
Boss-man gets five days of the week,
but these two? They are mine.
Wives and sisters sit on the deck,
indulging in girl-talk,
it may be a stereotype,
but lordy, how they squawk.
Then again, maybe it’s just me,
the introverted type,
gossiping in a big circle,
not something I would like…
Take off the ones medium rare,
three more minutes—well done,
plate them up, then give a shout:
“The steak’s on, everyone!”