Long Dishes Poems
Long Dishes Poems. Below are the most popular long Dishes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dishes poems by poem length and keyword.
We wanted to make a heavenly cake
But needed angelic ingredients
That were as far out of reach as can be
So we thought of other expedients
Like the famed store of unusual foods
Though it wasn’t around the corner
But then a melancholy light hit me
That we should seek a recent mourner
Who is akin to a newly deceased
Thus privy to a loved one in heaven
So I gently approached my grandfather
Hoping to make a mindful impression
I asked if he thought he could contact
The soul of my loving grandmother
To impart a glimpse of what they cook there
But he said that I should ask another
Making a heavenly cake like we planned
Was more trying than it first appeared
We needed to find some other way
Some way that may be more or less weird
I bravely entered a graveyard one night
With a shuddery moon full and blue
Hoping a spirit would come to my aid
With some heavenly food to pick through
But the creaking only got creepier
As each hour of that night crept by
And though frightened I got sleepier
With no ingredients to descry
Next day I dove deep in the library
About divine dishes present and passed
But couldn’t find one book apropos
So I went to the front desk and asked
The curator ventured to the attic
Where she recalled a very rare book
Aptly titled Eatin’ in Eden
With recipes for a heavenly cook
And on page one hundred fifty two
A recipe for heavenly cake
That purported the impossible
A trip to heaven to undertake
Yet most ways seemed too obnoxious
Even simply holding one’s breath
Which no matter how long it’s tried for
Is never enough for courting death
And if one died and went to heaven
How could they ever make the return
Back to earth to bake a divine cake
There was still much to this cake to learn
We flipped through every page of that book
To decipher somehow or some way
When we wondrously divined that the why
Was not where, but was plain as the day
The cake base is like a rich chocolate
Vastly deep as a moonless night sky
And while fudgy is light and airy
Certainly heavenly certified
Plus shrouded with fluffy cloud frosting
Of downy whiteness from pleasant dreams
That is also sweet as the sunshine
And piped with fresh rainbow hued creams
The cosmos cooks up celestial things
From the blue sky to heavenly cake
So after all that worry and work
It was in essence a breeze to make
She said that this man, my grandfather,
held her head under the black pool water,
while up above, a German man leaned
out of his window, against the moss and brick
to scream violently: "Don't hurt that woman!
She is the most beautiful woman in the world!"
The tone of the man's voice, authoritative, cold
broke my grandfather's concentration and he
let her bob up to the surface, coughing, sputtering
in an almost drowned manner, while still maintaining a beauty uncommon to humans, as she stole a quick glance
to the heavens of heavens to acknowledge the saving
power of a stranger.
This is her story today, as she sits on three moth-eaten,
velvet pillows to make her tall enough to reach the kitchen table.
She has shrunk in her old age and is no longer "the most beautiful woman
in the world".
She sips her black coffee out of Russian demitasse cups with diamond emblems
until she reaches the grinds which have slept in warmth on the bottom,
to fool her, she thinks.
She nibbles her white toast with butter and honey and shivers in the air conditioning as royalty should.
When she has filled the remaining ten percent of her stomach (the other ninety percent was removed from the worry
of ulcers when technology was in it's infant stage), she continues her story.
It lasts all afternoon and twists and winds around the basic sub-plot that, somehow, her beauty and dignity was
acknowledged in the worst circumstances, and, with her infinite wisdom, the world was made a better place.
Her voice soaks into the wooden cabinets, and will remind me forever of strong, fresh-brewed coffee, and I think,
right at that moment as I look at my hands (which I know will resemble hers one day), that I miss my grandfather.
The most gentle man in the world, whose thoughts never amounted to more than wanting to garden well, or shape
the perfect pizza in his pizza shop.
This man, who set chairs on tables to clear the floor before he danced in pure Zorba the Greek manner, with a glint in
his innocent eyes.
This man, who looked at this woman, this fabricating, self-absorbed, once beautiful woman, with an adoration never
deserved.
I clean up the dishes, while still listening, and kiss her good bye on her forehead.
Jittery from stories caffeinated and old, I chose to walk the long way home, lightening my mood and shedding her
words along the way.
Once upon a time...
Once upon a time, in France, a storyteller fella
Wrote of a girl named Cinderella,
Meant as a fairy tale romance.
Her daddy died when she was young, and she was forced to share his riches
With three monumental b****es,
A most unhappy circumstance.
For years her stepmom and stepsibs made her perform a menial's duty,
And as she blossomed into beauty,
They grew more hateful, mean, and cruel.
Each night they dined on fine cuisine and wore lace dresses with silk sashes,
While she wore rags begrimed with ashes,
And got just crusts of bread and gruel.
Then one day a herald from the king demanded entry
To the homes of landed gentry,
They were invited one and all.
It was the prince's eighteenth birthday, and the king and queen were harried
Because their son was not yet married.
Ergo, the reason for the ball.
The stepsisters primped and preened and wild excitement they exuded,
When Cindy asked to be included, they gaped at her as if appalled.
Stepmother sneered, "Look here, I'll show you!"
With self-righteous indignation,
"Your name's not on the invitation.
Just we elite are so installed."
So Cinderella went downstairs to seek some solace in the kitchen,
But 'stead of sittin' there and b****in', she started dancing with a broom.
She whirled and twirled around the floor,
Or else she'd stand there, gently swaying,
As if an orchestra was playing
Pretending they were bride and groom.
And then a flash, a crash of thunder, and to Cindy's stunned amazement,
There gliding through the kitchen casement,
A pudgy lady dressed in blue.
She said, "Hello, my dear, no fear, I'm here to grant your secret wishes,
I'll wave my wand and clear the dishes,
And make a princess out of you!"
She waved and tapped and flicked and zapped,
And what she seemed to make the air do
Was give her make-up, nails, and hair-do,
And then to make the look complete,
Out of those rags so soiled and worn and far too torn to drown a cat in,
A gown of gossamer and satin, and crystal slippers on her feet.
Without this timely intervention, Cindy's tale might have been tragic.
Could she have managed without magic,
And her dilemma be resolved?
But everybody knows what happened with a gourd and six white mice,
And how a smudgy scullery maid was made to clean up really nice,
When a fairy got involved.
To be continued...
I hear their idle chatter and wish that sound was optional.
A box checked in a menu, a simple click and forget.
The rapid dilation of my pupils brings me back.
Back to hypnotic aisles of temptation and necessity. A selection of the finest they say.
Right there see, on the cardboard, next to charts and columns of calories and strange
numbers I’d sooner forget.
But buy one get one free still gets me every time.
I stare intently at the dancing numbers until the man with the tie moves away.
Glossy pages shine brighter than the fruit racks they mirror,
Competing for importance in my wallet and my life
The magpie wins and the bananas will wait.
Half the magazines hawk five a day in rounded sans serif, bold against the background of a
chef’s haircut.
Maxims of bizarre cosmopolitan playboys and hustlers marked up at 3.99. Landscapes of
polished flesh glow beneath the loving airbrush of the paycheck. Competing for nuts at the
zoo.
A vanity fair for the hollow, shining in the fading light of a red top sunset.
Paraphrased blogs and condensed morsels of crude celebrity nudes for the I-Generation and
the remnants of New Labour and Thatcher’s Britain.
Anglers, caravans and 50 cent, half the demographic, half the price. Count me out.
I finger a few and find no real desire. The Internet offers this bilge up for free.
They’d all be nude and crapping on each other.
The great silicon toilet of humanity
Past freezers of long dead prisoners, pulped to perfection. Pigs in tubes and flat cow
concoctions.
Pancakes of vomit and fish dishes I won’t ever try. No time for it.
Frankenstein's monster behind glass slides.
Packets of sugar in various disguises. Cereal and chocolate, soft drinks and sauce dips.
Lattes and ladles, loofahs and loaves. The prattle returns through the shelving
I turn around the curries and there is the tie. Talking sport and hard drinking, women and
the weather. Looks me in the eye.
I turn before any interaction and feign interest in something, a scouring pad. Intricately
woven metal coils waste major concentration and he’s gone. Box checked, minimize and move on.
Everything shines in this weird three-quarter light, hypnotic. Confusing. Conscious of the
bottles ahead that I can’t ever touch. Seedy and appealing, puerile and appalling.
Something for everyone.
And nothing for me.
my arms wrapped around you
warm to the touch
only on thing on my mind
i love you so much
my hand connects with yours
my arms wrapped around yo
draw you in closer
soft and smooth to the touch
as we lay there
theres no moment in time that has meant so much
your body seems to mix with mine
quickly churning all the feelings i have inside
my hands caress your body
you stir, open you eyes with your sexy smile
sunlight streaks across your face
giving you that look of even higher grace
rubbing your back at such a slow pace
giving you time to recooperate
time to breathe
time to wake
i knew this was no mistake
all the feelings i feel are real
teasing me with a passion
all is said and done- for now
our love will never end
not now, nor then
later tonight
the same will occur
i'll walk through the door
being making dinner
take a shower
wait till you arrive
take your coat off your shoulders
take off the weight that feels like boulders
kiss you hello
you know, nice and slow?
reach for your hand
lead you to dinner
a meal of such delight
already thinking to yourself, "i'll sleep well tonight"
i wash the dishes
you take your shower
we'll meet in the bedroom
and kiss the night away
let me caress your body
tell me all about your day
slip out of your clothes
kiss you all over from head to toe
slide under the covers
bodies mixing
bending and twisting
let our acts of love bellow through the air
the night goes on
but alas
theres so much to be done
smooth and creamy
sweet and filling
our movements slow down
catching our breath
our hunger way beyond being met
you unwind
i pull you closer
deeper and deeper until slumber is met
sighing contently
i kiss your forhead
you stir and steal my thought
i love you
both steamy and hott
kissing you gently
saying it back
you close your eyes for the night
rocking you slowly back and forth
my love
my heart
my soul
no greater truth be told
i begin to drift away into sleep
our dog curling up on our bed by our feet
another day is done
another night well spent
but alas this is not the end
just the end of round one.
1. Emirates (UAE) that has not officially recognized Israel, made a historic flight to Ben Gurion Airport to deliver several tons of aid to "Palestinians." WEST-BANK refused the aid. Why? It was not consulted. Gaza - the rival Palestinian authority - accepted the UAE aid. My critics ought to research why the UN has NOT recognized a state called "Palestine." I love Israel & Palestine, because Jesus was a Palestinian and a Jew (best of both worlds, LOL!)
Israel has much to offer the world, its neighbors, and the Occupied Territories. But the excuses by "peacemakers" changed on both sides from Yassir Arafat, to Iraq, to Iran, to Syria, to Libya, to Hamas ... being the "OBSTACLE TO PEACE" (oft repeated, but a LIE). The west may enjoy the fact Palestinians are still paying for what Jews endured during Europe's pogroms, Inquisitions, and then Nazism.
2. I value Israel more than you will know ... not only because it is able to tell the West how they have been racist to Jews (starting GHETTOES in Italy in 1300s, not for Blacks, but for Jews). God re-created Israel to help us be better Christians, because Jesus himself was born a Jew, & observed all the LAW of Moses & enjoyed the Feasts. I hope to do so, which I didn't in 2 visits to The Holy Land (We did honeymoon at the King David Hotel).
3. SEEDS: Israel probably has the world's best and largest collective of UNADULTERATED plant seeds, or non-GMO seed-bank. Why? Israel and the Muslims have been disciplined with FOOD (our weak link). Most of us are experts on the Bible for making excuses to eat non-kosher junk. Israelis eat lots of veggies & dishes from CHICKPEAS - even if the Arabs complain, their food has also been stolen by their nuclear-power-neighbor. I celebrate Israeli agriculture & forestry. I treasure a painting of re-forestation in the 1950s by a Woman's Group, we have at home.
shalom, shalom!
4. O, I almost forgot; Israel got the clever, "useful" Nazis in hiding after Hitler's demise. Those Nazis and "our SOBs" - the phrase used by FDR, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, to protect the dictators of Latin America - we willingly or nilly-willy allowed to hide in the US and all over the Americas, were brought to justice by the modern State of Israel. I am a Christian & I may forgive anything; Israel is not Christian in that sense, and has the support of the world to get Nazis.
I was ten, my own useless nothing
No money, no food, no toys as a child could I bring!
My only possession was my little, harmless brother
His eyes so blue reminded me of mother.....
A dark storm had struck, long ago that eve
I still remember the words "Sorry there is nothing we can retrieve.."
The house lay in ruins, mixed with stone and rocks
I cried, he cried, and I gently brushed his blonde locks!
Mum-dad lay somewhere, down-below the scattered lawn,
Oh! I still remember how they pushed us, out-safe that stormy dawn!
No one left to love-cherish, no one to simply care,
No one to pass a smile, to feel what we bear!
I had sworn that dreary night
I would be his dad and mother...
A light made my world bright,
My brother, Oh! My brother.
It did not take me long to get,
That world was thirsty for tears,
Not those of joy, of laughs or smiles
But those of your darkest fears!
The forces took us into custody
Aunt Anne owned us then
Dark, small, abode of dust
Our new room was more of a den!
But as long as she loved us
Or rather did pretend
I thought I wont make a fuss
But the trouble for my little one had to end!
I made the fire, did the dishes
Cooked the food and fed the fishes
I cleaned the bathroom and all of the mess
I adjusted, but she made me suffer- an year with only one dress!
She would scare John, my lil- snow
Made him stay up for late
No school, no games
She scraped my teddy's fate!
I knew this had to stop,
I felt the need to do..
Then an idea struck
And my eyes shone their brightest blue!
It was the same night, same storm
I dreamt of how our world had torn
A knife in my hand, I headed to the lawn,
I had to do that just for my John!
The clouds growled, the winds dwelled...
My mistress yawned, my way led!
I screwed the knife through her waist,
Twisting it for end of the wild
She turned behind, in quite a haste
I drew back, her smile was mild!
She bowed down, to my surprise
A feel of shame, did sure arise
This one thing- future did I dread
I took my brother and far I fled!
They still look for the killer
Me, it was! Oh such a thriller.
Guilt still feeds on all parts of me
But my angel sets me free!
This was MY story to mourn
I swear I could have sworn
There will, sure be one bright night,
When I will bring this crime of mine in his sight....
Herr Heinrich Schneider and his spouse
Felt the need to wander,
And for once to leave their house
For a land that lay far yonder.
Japan at cherry-blossom time!
No better place than this
Enthralled the German couple’s mind.
The chance they would not miss.
"But what of Spezi", Heidi cried,
"We can’t leave him behind."
"Ach! unser Spezi," Heinrich sighed.
"There’s a way we’ll find."
They gave him anti-rabies shots
And medicines galore.
All that red tape, and lots and lots
Of paper-mountains more.
Off to the orient they flew
With hopeful joy and glee.
Oh what wonders bright and new
Would soon enthral all three?
Imperial palaces they saw
And Fuji’s snow-capped summit,
Ornate gardens stirring awe.
You name it, they had done it.
Immersed in culture and in art
They sensed a certain lack.
And so it was that they took heart
To leave the beaten track.
They hired a car and off they went
To some far-distant by-way.
And many a pleasant hour they spent
Till the dying light of day.
They found a cosy place to rest.
On the price they made a deal.
At last a chance to have a "Fest".
The time came for a meal.
The menu was in Japanese,
As well one might expect.
The waiter clearly meant to please
And bowed with great respect.
Of English, German and of French
He had no scrap of knowledge.
He gave each ear a nervous clench.
No, he’d never been to college.
Herr Schneider felt like sauerkraut
And Heidi felt like veal,
Food of this kind they’d do without
Until another meal.
But Spezi’s hunger would not wait.
Herr Schneider eyed the waiter.
"Wuff, Wuff, our Spezi wants a plate.
For dogs one has to cater."
While they sat there, a full hour passed.
Then the waiter brought some dishes.
The Schneiders ate their strange repast,
Which fell short of their wishes.
It was now time to pay the bill,
Which ran to many a yen.
Both were feeling somewhat ill.
and hardly spoke a word, but then -
Heidi cried "Is Spezi back yet?"
"Wuff wuff" did Heinrich bark.
"Please, waiter, tell us, where’s our pet?
In the kitchen? In the park?
A piece of fur the waiter brought.
Then Heidi’s face went pale.
She had a grim and horrid thought
On seeing Spezi’s tail.
What is the moral of this tale?
Down under be a dingo.
Where e’er you roam you should not fail
To understand the lingo.
The slowing whine as it came to rest
A spacecraft settled down
Like a mother bird into its nest
Glowing there green and round
Smoke spewed from open ports
The air smelled of gas
Little men came out of doors
And laid upon the grass
There soon formed a crowd from town
Peering at this awesome sight
The spacecraft there coming down
And glowing in the night
The mayor spoke and said he knows
What to feed these creatures green
They feed on French tomatoes
And drink the juice of beans
This is why they landed here
By this garden in the grass
But first to have a nice cold beer
From a large and frosty glass
Now arrived the TV news
Those men of truth renowned
And started doing interviews
To spread the word around
Camera trucks and many more
Big frames of antennae
Microphones by the score
And dishes ten feet high
Beaming waves of HD pics
Popping flashes all around
Sending data high speed flicks
Of the creatures on the ground
Throbbing cables glowing hot
Plugged in every place
Trying to get a camera shot
Of the first from outer space
To scoop this scene
Would guarantee
A place for them
In history
If one could see from outer space
The light from each ones screen
Glowing back in every face
As they peered at those men green
Then finally in a casual way
One begun to speak
In a manner rather cool to say
We come to here in peace
Our trip was going very well
Between some outer stars
When a passenger ask do you sell
Those peanuts grown on mars?
I am the steward here
I serve folks while we fly
Bean juice and good cold beer
And peanuts you can buy
Many times our flights are long
My supply of things run out
We know if things go wrong
The captain starts to shout
We had just crossed the great black sea
A dreadful place to span
This chap had then just beckoned me
For bean juice, another can!
I opened up the saucers store
To take his order back
And It was empty, was no more
The captain blew his stack
We were only half way there
How long here who knows
But the captain does not care
If we need French tomatoes
Our snifter found your plot
This garden full of greens
French tomatoes all you’ve got
And the juice squeezed from beans
Fear not earthling creatures
And even though we’re green
Maybe strange our features
But our nature is not mean
Steward sir, get the door
Our loading it is done
We now have filled our store
Goodbye ..to everyone!
Our convergent joint
The rallying point
Mecca to the Pastors and Sisters
Jerusalem to the “Alhajas and Alfas”
Refuge to the weak
Shield to the strong
Nowhere on campus like our building
Life made more lively
Added life to the lifeless
Ever enliven to light up a dead soul
Restore spirit to the soulless body
Nowhere on campus like our
World Trade Centre
Goods and services are synchronized
Prizes are greatly subsidized
To augment sense of belonging to our belongings
No wonder, young and old ones throng in and out
For more copies of pieces of paper
Scrupulously they stay glued to
Modern screen for good job
Ours is the biggest edifice in Nigeria
Ours is the best in Africa
Ours is amongst the best in the world
Swimming pool completes the unparallel
Beautiful scenery that I behold every
Midnight that I lay my head on the
Cushion to cushion the tedious effect
Incurred in my sojourn on campus
Twenty four hours was for
Wisdom chicken and chips
A delicacy prepares with wisdom
Which often times leaves Couples off wisdom
As they whisper pouring out farrago of lies
Unto each others hearing
In a latter day hobo’s manner
Like a Romeo in the world of a Juliet
Savoring the dishes
Drinking all drinkable and all gulp-able
Browsing and dancing to the
Rhythm of Yahoo and “Aluta” gyration
Ours was unarguably the best
Our building clad a chamber
Where the Honourables meet
Where ideas and views are chewed
Where political and cerebral jaw jaw are cross fertilized
Where rhetoric and oratory seed are swallowed
Where we read and blessed with “8 points”
Where we digest skills to become splendid
Managers of human and material resources
Our library is incomparable in quantity and quality of materials
All these before they came
They came, they vandalized
They came, they destroyed
They came, they extorted
They came, they collected and replaced for man
Receipt of hopelessness and anguish
They came . . . killed the spirit
They came . . . gauged the soul
They came . . . stole the body
But . . .
Like the Son of Man
The spirit will rise again
Like an “Ayekoto” bird
The gauged soul will escape and fly away
Like the Biblical Zion
The stolen body will be returned
And restored for better glory.
Alayande Stephen Tolulope
August 12th 2005
4.00am
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