Long Enchiladas Poems
Long Enchiladas Poems. Below are the most popular long Enchiladas by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Enchiladas poems by poem length and keyword.
Potato chip, I love you up,
my darling little buttercup.
A cup! A Reese’s chocolate one
with peanut butter. Oh, what fun!
What fun is time with nacho chips;
delightful cheese to tease my lips.
My lips around a hamburger,
with onion rings my heart to stir.
Stir the chili in the pot.
Add Tabasco; cook it hot.
Hot, that snack I love so well,
is buttered popcorn that I smell.
Smell the pasta fantasy-
sauce and parmesan for me.
Me and cheesecake, cherries atop.
Once I start, I cannot stop.
Stop for ice cream; what I wish-
a sundae sitting in a dish.
Dish me up some southern fried
with mashed potatoes on the side.
A side of bacon, crispy fat.
I see nothing wrong in that!
That’s a spicy hot tamale.
Enchiladas make me jolly.
Jolly Christmas; candies sweet,
turkey, ham; so much to eat.
Eat a pizza. It’s the best.
Now I’ve gotta take a rest.
(An oldie of mine where I tried to make each new couplet start with the word at the end of previous couplet)
For Juliet Ligon's 'Most Original' Poetry Contest
Hey buddy, let me tell you what's goin' down.
Listen closely, you'll hear the sound
of my kitchen, underground.
What I'm cookin' is so hot, as it were,
you might call it nuclear.
I'll make some for him, some for her.
I churn out the grub, hot and fast.
My cooking's like a firehose blast.
As much as I make, it won't last.
I put some dough on a sheets-a
where a jalapeno and mushroom meets-a
you've got yourself a red-hot pizza.
Hey man, I'm cookin' - don't you worry.
No time to waste. I'm in a hurry,
I'll need peppers for this veggie curry.
Time for burritos and enchiladas -
pull up and eat, this ain't the Ramada.
I've invited the Spanish armada.
For blazing chow, you are itchin'?
Grab a knife and chop. Come on, pitch in.
It's the first underground nuclear kitchen.
expecta O' Greta great dep·re·depta
snitchie fumes crud
Senate weaselin' words
mosaic-speak fungals thrall-truth up your nostrils
unmasked civil·a·tons
square crotch per smile
poeta decepta leaks India unda bear
panda wear
fund a hole: Pandora Pumps!
child wonda nuf crumbles Vatican busts
spangled in clown clothes
bustled to dust
depravity's cavities coupes enchiladas
inflicting inflections on cartoon erections
so verge on my bliss-vittles "goose tinge" me plights
please translate dos colander's humanoid blights
thy nuclear nickel-sickle pickles delight
or do like Shrub junior said- just
go £ucking shop.
___________________
Notes:
1. Two declarations America might consider.
i. Declare Washington D.C. a separate country and...
ii. Declare war on it.
Today for lunch I dined on some Tex-Mex cuisine,
jalapeno topped enchiladas and refried beans;
a favorite here in Texas, that can’t be denied,
but this afternoon I am battling the fire inside.
Washed it down with a margarita and wedge of lime,
it was very soothing and delicious at the time.
It gave my head a little buzz and made me cross-eyed,
but now my gut is suffering from this fire inside.
I used to have no trouble eating this spicy food,
but now it causes burning in my stomach to intrude.
And yet I do not worry for in my desk does hide
a jar of Tums to relieve me from this fire inside.
November 7, 2017
Poem of the Day - November 8, 2017
Spicy Gordita
Welove Mexican food.
With Tabasco.
What about spicy gorditas?
Show them what you're made of.
Gorditas means corn cakes.
Throw in the enchiladas to bake.
I love cinnamon sopapillas.
Tonight we are having a fiesta.
Tequila with lime.
Can you walk a straight line?
I’m not sure about corn cakes.
Weneed something stronger than paper plates.
What about fish tacos?
After a drink, go down below.
Have a super burrito.
Beans make you toot.
Just have everything spicy.
Have some guacamole on the side.
You could turn into a chimichanga.
With some quesadillas.
What is your taco name?
Mine is spicy corn cakes.
Clyde's Fine Country Diner is located about a mile south of town.
If you're lookin' fer rib-stickin' grub, its the greatest place aroun'!
Clyde retired after cookin' fer twenty-two years in the U.S. Navy,
Servin' up gobs of SOS, more delicately known as biscuits 'n' gravy!
It ain't a fancy place, jes' some booths and a dozen tables er so,
Dominated by a friendly but saucy-tongued waitress named Ruby Flo.
Farmers in John Deere caps meet there fer breakfast ever' day.
The Baptist Ladies Aid Society meets each Tuesday noon to dine 'n' pray.
Country and Western blares from the juke box near the kitchen door.
Ain't no fancy carpet gracin' the place, jes' a squeakin' wooden floor.
The menu ain't changed much over the years but it is quite replete,
With homemade pies, toxic navy coffee plus plain good things to eat.
Sundays, he features fried chicken, peas and smashed pertaters,
Mondays, soup du jour and tossed salad with garden fresh termaters.
Tuesdays, Clyde offers Mexican with enchiladas and tacos in the shell
Wednesdays, the speciality is green chili soup, the hottest this side of hell!
Thursdays, you can enjoy all you can eat of macaroni and cheese.
Fridays, he features either chicken fried steak er a servin' of Chinese.
Saturdays, is his famous chef d'oeuvre, prawns and black angus steak!
It ain't a 5-star café but Clyde serves great grub, of that there's no mistake!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved
The quiet brings introspection - emotions contained…those of excitement, roll-up-the sleeves, the dejection, beliefs. The empty room filled with holiday assortment. A shame to shape the room back into every-day style. We look forward to getting on with things but we cling to the holiday brilliance.
No champagne at midnight. No clinking crystal. Two pairs of lips met in a timely kiss - that was a must.
No Dick-Clarkness representation on television. The vision obscured by frenetic sport, which many abort the season for. It seemed quite sad.
Still one sis and I hashed out, in competition, playing cards. She’d help me see what I was missing. Really it was like flipping conversation, numbering the minutes before the New Year.
Chicken enchiladas with cheese cream sauce, rice pilaf piled high, black beans, homemade salsa - mild and mighty hot, homemade cookies, wine, beer and cheer - made here, brought here. The holiday stock in full gear.
Personalities in play. God sees the imperfections and perfections of family. The quiet gives me introspection and prayer and poems to read - they seed my eyesight, reflect goodness, shine in the darkness to the light, and for me that light is Christ.
Happy New Year. Find not the fault line but align yourself with the Word.
You will be heard. He asks, “Do you want to be healed?” Your answer moves you toward the narrow way or the wide destructive path. Choose wisely…choose life - I tell myself.
1/1/2023
As I travel through my hometown Chicago's neighborhoods
There's a comfy, down-home feeling; these places are good
One of the things that makes them this way
is their ethnic character and pride, that make them that way
When roaming through Greektown, through familiar haunts
I spot Greek groceries, bakeries, five-star restaurants
Then on a walking tour of old Chinatown
The Chinese language fills the air, all around
In West Rogers Park, where religious Jews reside
Signs in Hebrew, Kosher markets, doors open
And of course, in Pilsen and Little Village, tortillas, tamales
enchiladas, frajitos -- everything's Mexican, by golly
Yet as I cruise the streets of Chicago's South and West Sides
All the police cars I see have only white folks inside
Is it really too much, I wonder, as I come to a stop
to ask that black avenues be patrolled by black cops
Potato chip, I love you up,
my darling little buttercup.
A cup! A Reese’s chocolate one
with peanut butter. Oh, what fun!
What fun is time with nacho chips;
delightful cheese to tease my lips.
My lips around a hamburger,
with onion rings my heart to stir.
Stir the chili in the pot.
Add Tabasco; cook it hot.
Hot, that snack I love so well,
is buttered popcorn that I smell.
Smell the pasta fantasy-
sauce and parmesan for me.
Me and cheesecake, cherries atop.
Once I start, I cannot stop.
Stop for ice cream; what I wish-
a sundae sitting in a dish.
Dish me up some southern fried
with mashed potatoes on the side.
A side of bacon, crispy fat.
I see nothing wrong in that!
That’s a spicy hot tamale.
Enchiladas make me jolly.
Jolly Christmas; candies sweet,
turkey, ham; so much to eat.
Eat a pizza. It’s the best.
Now I’ve gotta take a rest.
I doff my fedora to the feller who invented pertater chips!
That genius developed the ideal thingy in which to immerse our dips!
How could we survive sans our weekly fix of Dominoes pizza pie,
Or a half-dozen Dunkin Donuts consumed on the sly?
Ain't nothin' as finger lickin' good as Kentucky Fried, original of course,
Or a Wendy's triple bacon 'burger when you're as famished as a horse!
Ah! The myriad of Mexican fixin's offered by the local Taco Bell!
Chimichangas, burritos, tacos, tostadas and enchiladas as well!
Japanese and Chinese establishments offer mysterious and fancy fare.
Try sushi, octopus, crawfish or deep fried squid if you dare!
If you crave ice cream, cookies or a hunk of cake or such cuisine,
Hie yourself on down the street to the nearest Dairy Queen!
For the hotdog aficionado there are weenie varieties galore;
Foot longs, chilidogs, smothered in sauerkraut and so many more!
Want some scrumptious and satisfying grub that'll fill your belly?
Get a ham on rye, thick salami or a Rueben at the neighborhood deli!
At Dad's BBQ you can order any kind of barbeque with greasy fries.
To top off the pancakes at The Village Inn you can buy chocolate pies!
Doctors and nutritionists would cringe at such a diet of course.
Fiddle faddle! I'll keep on eatin' that stuff with absolutely no remorese!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)