Long Dietary Poems
Long Dietary Poems. Below are the most popular long Dietary by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dietary poems by poem length and keyword.
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The Cinematic Film Treatment as poetic element
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Snickering Bastards
Two chattering ravens narrate a tale of blind revolution and seedy redemption, as we follow a Raisinseed V9.003, the latest hermaphrodite sex worker cyborg prototype grown by the Non Sequitur Corp from lawn cuttings, in her or his meandering narrative from birth to illumination, at the beginning of which we first see Raisinseed's body parts being vapor gun printed from lab rat DNA by Prof. "Bam Bam" Bernie Roundhole, who has secretly grown Raisinseed alongside an evil twin kidnapped with the Professor's connivance by gypsy low riders, deviously paid by the Bureau of Land Management, to detect clandestine ectoplasm at the FEMA Summer Camp Ouija Board séances held in a recently constructed chain link and razor wire facility in a devious scheme to harness the power of human gullibility, where the twins' only link to sanity and dietary sustenance was the giant artificial cow udder they both suckled with the help of a mysterious one eyed Hungarian ex-Tatar payroll robbing Romany Brigade railroad bandit turned private investigator (whence or hence the eye logo on his business card that read "DEEP, DEEPER, DEEPEST!"), the Sure Bet brand dowsing rod inventor, and his partner, the equally mysterious "Tubby" Tepys, who sells the secret Twin (named X for the purposes of this narrative) to the hunch backed majordomo of Castle Bathory, and who, over the span of two generations of political mud wrestling, reveals the key to the reuniting of the twins utilizing the tracking capabilities of a "Mark of the Beast" model branding iron and Homeland Security RFID laser detector which slingshots via the Einsteinian space time reversal dilemma in a mathematical simulation that employs the separated twins for an inter-departmental National Plasmatic Administration foundation grant fund raising public service announcement about the potential for life "out there", and they are reunited by men who shrink heads with the help of tungsten filament light bulbs.
(to be continued)
From "Theater of Utter Charm"
Available on Amazon
The country is so filthy with garbage all over the dearest homes People are sick with unpleasant smell and poor sanitations, poor managements. In such country that claiming to have functional government to the gravel of my thought, pin the pain to pink appointment in the morning to monster cowries to swing of crabs.
Fed up witnessing innocent souls departing from us seeking another world with totally different environment, where your face cooler to the duty of your fingers to the fan of the grave. You suppose to stay here to helm it people, then you left us in innumerable thoughts, the garment hem are the only thing picturing in my imagination.
He cannot stop the pain of death panging the back to the battle field, the flies force the citizens to leave the city and seek another continent of no communication between people. People only stopped slapping their faces when they are in beds; the country is stinking like rot eggs middle summer while the heartless man exploiting our resources to rusticating and resuscitating his family overnight.
Keeping us captives in our mother’s wombs, well they are living in luxurious lives styles and pushing the best cars in town, the layman is down there with curled hair sweating to make end meets. He cannot fill his belly with a single dietary; they blow their noise on us whole day with their cars beeping all days long.
Cursing us with exhaust pipes poisoning our lungs, the city is candles city there are no infrastructures because they have built fences of tribalism which keep us apart. The poor have no alternatives except to flee the city, because they no longer welcomed to integrate with the elites.
The country is littering with rubbish, sick is everywhere; people are dying from treatable diseases. The country is bust up with tribalism, sectionalism and nepotism. The citizens are seeing impotent government steering the wheel of the state like the moment of a statue and there are lots of frustration among the youths and the elderly.
The country has contaminated with toxic acid of tribalism, politics has eaten in our hearts establishing hared among cemented thought and mechanical breakdown.
Marriage to alarmingly ballooning...
dramatically expanding spouse,
when adorning buttons
pop off undersized blouse
which spurs yours truly to grouse,
and ruffle mine tail feathers
while listening to Scheherazade.
Eats her weigh out of home and house
unsolicited feedback courtesy
quite doubtful, she could pose
for playboy and/or penthouse
returning explicit volley
of trailing appellations lobbed
expletive laced epithets
directed at her husband the louse
in lame retaliation deftly
sparring as he doth rouse
himself out of his vittle catatonic state
thus muenster ring cheeses crust
squeaks (me) meek Mickey Mouse.
When I did pledge troth
after courtship she would not abate
aboot two plus dozen years ago
(spoiler alert) wheezing
heterosexually straight
half heartedly accepting her
asthma wife sne...
snee...sneezing mate
even then, she exhibited
appetite for consumption
defying four foot eleven
petite size then, a score
plus quarter years ago lightweight
possessed cute figure.
Now, she eats
non stop while rocking round the clock
stationing, lumbering, burgeoning
girth casting dock
shadows analogous to
edge of night
donning humongous frock
to allow growing room
for extra buttock
vacuuming any/all
comestibles in sight
downing, emptying, gulping
refrigerator contents chock a block
nearly suctioning him,
who doth tongue in cheek mock
think apple pie, yet for
grace of dog ad hoc
anchoring spindleshanks laughingstock
skinny chicken legs (mine)
with knees that knock
worse than concentration camp victim,
(this gentile Jewish atheist gently pock
king fun without intent to rock
the casbah, nor ethnically clash
mainly innocent poetic schlock),
nonetheless chicken legs
repurposed to anchor lock
stock and barrel Matthew Scott
madly flapping wings imitating flock
of seagulls to no avail
this shabby not so chic flabby baby boomer
body, mum mama
(deceased eighteen plus years)
followed dietary strictures touted by
the late Doctor Benjamin McLane Spock,
no matter, I got hoovered
into maw of tee misses,
who instantaneously
spit out awful poppycock.
OLDE CHARLIE part two
A simple g’day and not much more,
A man of simple tastes and trends,
Mostly seen most days
Three days growth on chin,
Olde Charlie,
Came from the olde school,
Of the way he thought
And reacted to most things,
A man of the bush,
A man with a down to earth spirit,
Not caring much for town
A product of the bush,
A cockie from a bygone age
And from the land as fourth generation lived
On a piece of squatter dirt chosen,
‘neath the hills of blueish haze,
Old Charlie had seen
All manner of things,
From flooding of plains to the west,
Bushfires that came close near the bottom paddock fence,
Of dry days that gave way to cloudless blues
And not a skerrick dropped to fill troughs,
For his beloved Droughtmasters to taste.
Olde Charlie and best mate ‘Blue’
And at the crack of dawn this day
A brew and a bone began,
Then on the track that wound to back paddocks up top,
A mother and calf gone missing
Strayed from herd in paddock distance far from home,
Heard in distance dingo’s cry sent shudders,
For olde Charlie knew of their ways,
And in this time of parched earth being felt,
A tasty prey could be
Tucker for this native dog,
Who on instincts needs to survive hunger pangs,
And if Olde Charlie’s mother and calf succumbed
To be a dingo’s dietary supplement this day,
So be it,
But Olde Charlie he knew of better things,
And of a mother who’d protect her progeny most
When it came to the crunch,
And on a rise straight ahead Olde Charlie saw
Why Olde Blue had raced ahead,
A calf crying for mum,
As mother and indigenous dog had drawn together
And both now lay inert in dirt,
And in the ways of the bush wisdom
A bullet to each was suffice to the sacrifice of mum,
And with tenderness not usual of tough man of land,
A calf carried all the way
And back to the herd the future now saved.
A simple g’day and not much more,
A man of simple tastes and trends
Olde Charlie’s a true rough diamond of Oz.
Francis Cooper – Mac © 18 Jul. 20
I ham quill tee for gobbledygook...
and ruffling tail feathers!
An innocent miss steak kin...
once former main lion den cha hoard servant,
resident iz cow herd vegetarian boar
hoof faux whatever reason iz explore
ring bing foo fighting beastie boy, who doth
newt practice, what he preaches your
truly battens down chicken
coop hatches so... call me galore
re: us hypocritic,
this honest to dog omnivore – more
accurate said buzzfeeding primate -
*****sapiens, he whelk hams
adieu after quick bonjour
hears ear splitting eeyore
deaf finning chore
tills unable to ignore
admits transgression,
now wonder wherefore
whether art thou still
game to reed my adore
hub bull poetry
understandable if ye deplore
such atrocious, egregious, opprobrious...,
violating ethical core
puss regarding straying
against dietary herbivore
rudimentary eel lamb ants
(chocolate covered my dear Watson)
boot fault in the starfish...por
favor mice elf can
oxe plain twittering like plover
with reasonable rhyme for sure
don't get doggy dimples in bunch
cause to skewer me but... but before...
sending killing squad to slaughter -
this puppy, aye kindly honour
my wish and don
me noggin with pompadour
as fetching drag queen
torpedo sized bosom
squirting parti-color
milk as self defense mechanism
averting casus belli thus
amidst melee I abhor
find self on horns of dilemma
life story of this poor
cooked goose flambé
caught between rock and trapdoor
special cannibal delight
where madding crowd
chants "send him back"
accursed unconscionable roar
ring anger, but lurch for eats,
an impulsive reflex courtesy extempore
rain nee yes unforgivable poor
craven impulse to up peas hunger
uncontrollably craving regarding carnivore
pang additionally not further injure
ring innocent animal plus more
to this fishy tail than
meats the Wawa birdseye.
Marriage to alarmingly ballooning...
dramatically expanding spouse
Eats her weigh out of home and house
unsolicited feedback courtesy
yours truly, she does grouse
quite doubtful, she could pose
for playboy and/or penthouse
returning explicit volley
of trailing appellations lobbed
expletive laced epithets
directed at her husband the louse
in lame retaliation deftly
sparring as he doth rouse
himself out of his vittle catatonic state
thus muenster ring cheeses crust
squeaks (me) meek Mickey Mouse.
When I did pledge troth
after courtship she would not abate
aboot two dozen years ago
(spoiler alert) wheezing
heterosexually straight
half heartedly accepting her
asthma wife sne...
snee...sneezing mate
even then, she exhibited
appetite for consumption
defying four foot eleven
petite size and lightweight.
Now, she eats
non stop round the clock
stationing, lumbering, burgeoning
girth casting dock
shadows analogous to
edge of night
donning humongous frock
to allow growing room
for extra buttock
vacuuming any/all
comestibles in sight
downing, emptying, gulping
refrigerator contents chock a block
nearly suctioning him,
who doth tongue in cheek mock
think apple pie, yet for
grace of dog ad hoc
anchoring spindleshanks laughingstock
skinny chicken legs (mine)
with knees that knock
worse than concentration camp victim,
(this gentile Jewish atheist gently pock
king fun without intent to rock
the casbah, nor ethnically clash
mainly innocent poetic schlock),
nonetheless chicken legs
repurposed to anchor lock
stock and barrel Matthew Scott
madly flapping wings imitating flock
of seagulls to no avail
his flabby baby boomer
body, mum mama
followed dietary strictures touted by
the late Doctor Benjamin McLane Spock,
no matter, I got hoovered
into maw of tee misses,
who instantaneously
spit out awful poppycock.
O Lasgidi , city of hustlers, bustles, knuckles
In your belly called street, lays lifestyles of hustlers
No Man's land your pseudonym, Eko your first name,
Lasgidi a middle, greetings to you , your last name .....?
O Lasgid! fountain of hustlers, bustles, knuckles
potholes eaten on You, like a Baldhead
The coal tied road, trunk A. B. C
Yellow is the vultures vest
Their shoes an athlete choice
Fit to run to peg their wings
On the innocent souls;
The bus conductor they perch on
drivers they beak on
Tribals mark they tattoo on vehicles
A logo, a sign , a stamp for the" Owo boys!"
Malnutrition their dietary, yet belly is full
Empty in it, wears attitudes bulging tummy.
O Lasgidi city of hustlers, bustles, knuckles
And the vultures in yellow, they run the potholes
Up down up down just for their belly sake pay up dues
with whips held in their hands like ancient masquerades
Yellow is the vultures, garages it perches
O Lagidi city of hustlers, bustles, knuckles
Please shed off your yellow vultures. Away them
They put more potholes in mind of drives, motor boys
To drink water, they gulp Alcohol, marijuana their diet
Eyes beaming red like crimson teeth decayed age 39
O Lasgidi city of hustlers, bustles, knuckles
Wear out your yellow vultures
A perfect pseudonym abgearoo!
And their motor; "owo boys da"?
For ,drivers and motor boys in the
Potholes their dough falls, thus
marathon struggles continual
O Lasgidi commercial pride of the nation
Where is the government, where is the law? hiding
Like candlelight underneath a bushel its glows
But for men its blurred, waiting folks, worn out, verdict
Must sing loud, like a gong its should sound goom
O Lasgidi city of hustlers, bustles, knuckles
Mother to no idle man
I hail thee
Agbearoo! :roadside transportation tax collectors
6/4/2020
Written: August 23, 2023
Soup Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
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In the heart of the kitchen's lively domain,
Where pots and pans dance, a culinary chain
A simmering pot of soup takes center stage.
A recipe of flavors—an enticing page
With a flick of a wrist, the chef's hands command,
Creating a masterpiece, a dish that expands,
In the heart of the kitchen's lively domain,
Where creativity and passion—intertwine.
The shrimp is delicately placed in the pot.
As the chef's touch brings out the flavors sought,
A sprinkle of salt—a dash of spice,
Enhancing the soup—making it nice.
The aroma fills the air—a tantalizing scent,
Drawing in diners, their appetites bent.
Strong and briny, the flavors meld.
Creating a symphony, a story to be held.
But in this magic kitchen—a twist is at play.
For vegans and ketos, there's a feast on display.
Carnivores and herbivores unite with delight.
As the chef's expertise creates a dish that's just right.
No longer divided—by dietary choice,
In the heart of the kitchen, all can rejoice.
The vegan soup, a blend of vegetables and spices,
A burst of freshness—a taste that entices.
The keto option is filled with rich fats and protein.
A low-carb delight—a culinary dream
The carnivores indulge in a meaty delight.
Savoring every bite, their taste buds ignite.
In the heart of the kitchen—harmony reigns.
Where dietary boundaries—no longer constrain,
For the magic of flavors, the chef has found
A way to satisfy all, with culinary wonders abound.
So come, gather 'round, and taste the delight.
In the heart of the kitchen, where dreams bear flight
With soup as the centerpiece, a dish so divine,
In this culinary haven, there's something for every kind.
I ham guilty for gobbledygook...
and ruffling turkey feathers!
An innocent miss steak kin...
once former main lion,
resident iz cow herd vegetarian boar
ring beastie boy, who doth
newt practice, what he preaches your
truly battens down chicken
coop hatches so... call me galore
re: us hypocritic,
this honest to dog omnivore – more
accurate said buzzfeeding primate -
*****sapiens, he whelk hams
adieu after quick bonjour
hears ear splitting eeyore
deaf finning chore
tills unable to ignore
admits transgression,
now wonder wherefore
whether art thou still
game to reed my adore
hub bull poetry
understandable if ye deplore
such atrocious, egregious, opprobrious...,
violating ethical core
puss regarding straying
against dietary herbivore
rudimentary eel lamb ants
(chocolate covered my dear Watson)
boot fault in the starfish...por
favor mice elf can
oxe plain twittering like plover
with reasonable rhyme for sure
don't get doggy dimples in bunch
cause to skewer me but... but before...
sending killing squad to slaughter -
this puppy, aye kindly honour
my wish and don
me noggin with pompadour
as fetching drag queen
torpedo sized bosom
squirting parti-color
milk as self defense mechanism
averting casus belli thus
amidst melee I abhor
find self on horns of dilemma
life story these of this poor
cooked goose flambé
caught between rock and trapdoor
special cannibal delight
where madding crowd
chants "send him back"
accursed unconscionable roar
ring anger, but lurch for eats,
an impulsive reflex courtesy extempore
rain nee yes unforgivable poor
craven impulse to up peas hunger
uncontrollably craving regarding carnivore
pang additionally not further injure
ring innocent animal plus more
to this fishy tail than
meats the Wawa birdseye.
Alphabet soup, homemade, here's how
Begin the dish with alphabet pasta and homemade chicken broth
Coriander is next, chopped finely and bruised in cloth
Dice some carrots and parsnips, add chopped swedes as well
Endives and onions tickle the taste buds, create aroma for smell
Fennel bulbs and feathery fronds add pique and intrigue
Grate some Parmesan, add mace and cumin, for spicy blitzkrieg
Heat on high to just before boiling, then reduce heat and simmer gently on low
Insert a spoon and swirl to see perchance what the letters spell out on surface floe
'Just' eat the better half of all meals on your plate
'Keep' snacks at bay by banning from pantry, making temptation abate
'Lessen' you loaf time by walking, running, cycling an hour each day
'Make' wholesome meals, with whole fresh foods and vegetable buffet
'No' more quick junk food fixes to cure feeling-down and depressed
'Or' between meal snacks when hunger pangs bite and diet gets stressed
'Portion' control is far easier that counting calories each time you eat
'Quell' your calories by skipping lunch or one other meal, and each day repeat
'Regular' fasting far easier than eating dietary greens and stuff with no appeal
'Sociably' better, sharing main meal with family, friends, bypassing diet exclusion ordeal
'To' make sure you keep on track to lose weight, eating less and keeping slim
'United' plan and pledge to make durable lifestyle changes to become terrific and trim
'Verily' to keep to your plan, to keep from being beaten
'Waiting' no more to make it happen
'Xeroxed' copies of Mediterranean Diet Recipes at the ready
'Yearning' to be slim and terrific with weight steady
'Zapping' through each day with gusto