Long Curries Poems
Long Curries Poems. Below are the most popular long Curries by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Curries poems by poem length and keyword.
For there abide beef, pork and chicken
and the greatest of these is bacon
hot sizzling crispy to the tongue
satiating succulently scrumptious bacon.
For bacon curries no favor
plays the field tempts the stoic and saintly
slides into gustatorial beds
romps with tomato and lettuce
hangs out with eggs, hard boiled and soft
mocks the ten condiments
bathes in the sinful seven
is prideful
lusts after
the last greed filled bite
of gluttony
provokes the envy
of slothful
greasy lust.
Ah, bacon
you grease the skids
of dietary destruction
stalk the fat cells
of cellulitic cravings
tempt the tendrils of scent
with your aphrodisial aroma
inducing a pheromonal fling.
Oh bacon
you promiscuous panderer
curvaceous little porker
I believe
I trust
I lust
in and after your truth.
John G. Lawless
©11/2/2019
On sandy beaches and along fertile riverbanks,
In fecund soil and in lush green plantations,
Coconut trees stand tall towering into the sky.
They are benevolent palms at the service of generations.
A coconut tree is a marvel of creation, every part of it can be used.
Its umbrella like crown of leaves shades us from sun.
Its circular, heavy cluster of fruits enrich our bodies.
From coconut husks, coir mats and ropes are spun.
The milk-white kernel inside the coconut shell,
Is used in curries, cookies and for extracting oil.
The water inside is a healthy, delicious drink.
Its vast net work of labyrinthine roots holds the loose soil.
Its sturdy trunk is used as a support for anchoring small boats.
Coconut shells in the hands of a craftsman turn into attractive curios.
Palm fronds are used for thatching small hovels and sheds.
Thus, from foot to crown, its uses and charms are various.
If one is stressed, it is therapeutic to de-husk a coconut.
It is a fine exercise and an ideal way to de-stress.
If angry with some one and wish to tear him limb by limb,
Break a coconut and it will take away all your noxious distress.
Still if you don’t feel comfortable and are with tingling nerves,
Scrape a coconut bit by bit and by the time you finish,
All your anger must have slowly gone as steam into air,
And in course of time, you will see it thoroughly vanish!
Here on poetrysoup, the newest poem,
pops up on-screen
like the latest off-shoot, or newborn babe
or like a newest floral bud,
in the orchards of poetry.
Or like a fresh wave of words
crashing and cresting upon the turf
For all and sundry to view, enjoy and surf!
Or ha ha, even like linguistic kernels
that pop like popcorn
in the crockery of poetrysoup
with different flavors to choose from,
to reveal what's been cooking in the minds.
Some indeed spiced-up,
some spicy
some acidic or buttery
all of 'em', more or less with melody.
Or the newest poetry is
to put it more exquisitely,
is a fragrant flower just bloomed
in the bedecked bowers of poetry
Or to say, each latest poem pops on screen
Like pop goes the weasel
For poems pop up like meerkats
but on the lookout for friends instead of foes.
Ah, and then they might wait
for the honey and jam of comments
and perhaps even the bitter gourd of criticism,
for healthy constructive criticism
is like any bitter pill vital to health.
You're lucky if the doctors of poetry
refrain from prescribing chits
of bitter pills to swallow,
Or opted for sugar-coated ones
for which you heave a sigh of relief
you didn't receive, blunt sharp critique!
As I prefer sugar coated pills in all matters.
Yet if they do administer the wrong dose
out of sheer bias and prejudice,
you can always give them a taste of their own medicine,
if you wish to be vengeful and impudent
Or you can forgo, overlook and be lenient
For my poetry is meant to be tasteful
and gentleness is nice.
Harshly insensitive reviews can leave
a sour after taste in the mouth.
As I'm habituated to taking sugar coated pills.
A biased person could never appreciate my poetry.
Let's taste and try out all the varied variety of curries and broths of muse out here...
Let's all appreciate the different flavours that simmer in the poetry soup melting pot,
many cooking up delectable foods for thought...
Do you remember the day
When some wind went astray
And you let out a smelly old fart
Just one of those embarrassing moments, don’t let it tear you apart
A botty burp, a fart or a fluff - you may call it another name
It’s all completely natural don’t hang your head in shame
I once worked with a lad I called ‘beans boy’
Oh boy that kid sure could let rip
Think his mum fed him baked beans and curries
Cos we sure got a good whiff of it
On bad days we’d opened the windows
We’d gasp for some sweet smelling air
It was so bad I thought I’d get asphyxiated
And would be found dead in my chair
Jan Allison
30th June 2014
"Amid the jagged shadows of mossy
leafless boughs;"
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Earth Rips different
Not like cloth
tearing, sharp, painful sounds
Thicker cloth nêe bursts
baritone harshness
Ripping from earth, done
solemnly, knowing greater
calamitous unearthing is
certain, feels like bursting
Buttons, brief Eyelash
Flash of shock, something
missing, phantom pain some
Describe
My drying herbs, roots and all
Gave up this way, by my hand
As the 70' Norway Spruce Pine
in front of 30 Rock NYC
Slowly weeps tears of sweet sap
Squeezed from constricting veins
Machines surprising vast
Vascular networks of life below
Ground
Forced abscission really
Slowly dying, withering, shackled
In stantions for all to admire in
Spectacled holiday lights
Politicians virtue-signal righteous
Uses for its sublimated limbs
Sticks of assorted stature for
Sordid assignments...
I'll spice my curries
with my hand-pulled
Herbs
November
2019
THE GIRLFRIEND OF MY FRIEND
Saturday noon I drove my car to her house.
Seeing the doors open my eyebrows were all aroused.
I began to curse Jai who told me
“Samit look after my girlfriend while I’m out of town”
Damn it! Now all my weekend plan are drown.
I saw the first sight of Natasha.
She was sitting on her sofa with her legs crossed.
And a pretty little mole near the thigh exposed
Her skin was like a cream from orchids of Vanilla.
Lips that can drive madness spree in any fella.
“Hello there! When did u arrive?” mouthed she.
“Come down and help me with my sandal” asked she.
I took her softish feet in my crude hands
And haul them inside the sandal where they melt.
“Let’s go”, she stood up and said in a shot.
I followed her to my car with her range goddamn hot.
I stopped the car at the Curries restaurant.
But her thoughts in my mind still drew.
With the getting to know chit chat, yea, oh, hmm…
I thought I’m getting her bored.
She’s a kind of girl who let me down as I feel fool.
With the cool girl as that I wish I had tricks bag full.
Dropping her late night I asked if she had the good time.
With eyes looking at sandal she said that made me wakeup,
“Your friend shows he has move on after the breakup
But still didn’t forget to send the gift on my special day
Give my thanks and say the sandals are not my size”
She muttered after a teardrop rolled from her eyes.
So I’m texting you Jai…not to make her shoe size settle
But urging you to go back to make her every day SPECIAL.
-By Kunal Rathod
Choices we make in life
When I chose to study rather pursuing literature,
Proud I felt of my choice treated so respectfully,
Writers were taken crazy and doctors the most busy,
My literature books drowned in tears,
gathered dust to my worst fears,
Creativity breathed its last as I peep into my past,
Choice if I was given my status had been single!
Ah freedom and no worries, no household curries,
Now I dance to the tune of clock,
Distanced from my kind of flock,
Days and nights merge into one,
As to my soft pillow I lately succumb!
Introspection......
It's all about one road taken
and the other one not,
Can you ever say the choice was wrong
when the other you never walked through ?
Having firm belief in my choice,
Say my dreams so far have come true!
Ponder if choices were truly in our hands
and not written on those fortune bands ?
What we truly chose for us
was not trashed to bin thus,
Trust He hears our pure heart and voices
there must be no repentance on choices !
Written Sept 10th, 2015
For contest by Edward ebbs
Irish Equines and Scottish Rubbish
Admiration's and Despondent
days
as sail will say of sewing's
days
antonym was taught with
pleasant pirch
Birch as drawn or Castled wrong
heavenly curvatures
rarely daunt
Playful men aboard, a sea
Days end nights
Arabic keys
Bought, brought at boughe
nestled beside, curries
left favorite
only and when boats as steam
are played fifth
dedicated to orders and the vice of an Admiral's Home
As mine hand wrap yours soft and tender
Hope filled mine heart with joys of bliss
Conduct first steps in walking with you
Precious jewel wrapped in mine hands
Years strengthens yours hands full grown
The hands of time days quickly passed
Equal to mine they became
Perfectly our crossed hands fitted
Full of excitement you left
Home loving Father blessed you
One of our own in your hands
A cheer of bless heredities
Today your hands are muscled up
Strong lifts this vessel entrust upon
Those little hands industrious
Curries me around with energy
Though strong and benevolent child
Against mine that is aged golden
Nature so sets me divine call
Favoured, venerated and blessed
Aged with grace a priceless wine
Form: