Long Gastronomic Poems
Long Gastronomic Poems. Below are the most popular long Gastronomic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gastronomic poems by poem length and keyword.
Once a friend of mine invited me for lunch
A celebration he planned for his book launch,
The book was on traditional Indian cuisine, I knew
No very different from its modern cousin or new.
I was hesitant to join for my stomach was upset
He pleaded with me, let the plan not get upset.
I must join the friend’s party, how could I say no
For it was a special event in his life, I should know.
He would take care, being an accomplished chef
For me, he assured, food would be entirely safe.
I decided to not enter into a friendly row
But to go, occupy a chair in the back row,
Enjoy the lunch as best I could to the last course
And not utter a word about stomach, of course.
I went for the lunch on a winter day quite chilly
Vowing to avoid the food items with lots of chilli.
Through morning my friend made things all ready
For the party he threw, guests had arrived already.
While cheese and toast rested untouched for a while
We proposed a toast to his success as a chef of style.
Matching the rhythm of our warm and soft whine
Rose red wine rose and swirled in shining glasses thin.
I was delighted to see on the table dishful curd
So much good for my stomach, I shouldn’t discard.
The fat naan was so liberally buttered all over
None possibly would have eaten in their life ever,
Flat bread made of finest flour of well bred wheat
Looked like blooming flowers on the floral plate.
The flavor of famous basmati rice as it would rise
I would favor to have it instead of bread to be wise,
Sprinkle of spring onion with smell of spring in fish curry
Added to the gastronomic delight, a treat far to carry,
Meat in gravy with basal green layer of fresh basil leaf
Could meet the culinary acumen of any expert chef,
The salad of beet root, leek, lime and touch of olive
Could beat any such combo in the world, I believe.
Before scoops of ice cream could bury the red berry
The dessert disappeared as if in desert heat in a hurry.
My friend’s hospitality won the hearts of one and all,
Thanking him amply we departed before the nightfall.
We expressed the appreciation for the food aloud
As much as our satiated minds sincerely allowed.
December 3, 2017.
We are accustomed to a variety birds who, after we fill our feeders, find a way
to fly up, perch a while and have a snack or two every day.
It’s usually the same birds each day with quiet smiles we greet
but recently a Rose-breasted grosbeak happened by for a bite to eat.
We realized when it came to our visitors
he was a different bird from all the rest
by the bright red triangle like a Superman emblem emblazoned on his chest.
He visited the feeder off and on…overcoming his initial instinctive fear
then brought along his son or daughter…when he knew the coast was clear.
What we witnessed next was one of the beauties of nature…
a beauty that’s second to none…
when that rose-breasted grosbeak took seeds from our feeder
and fed them to his son…
Or daughter…it’s difficult to tell since I’m not an ornithologist.
but son or daughter this is one moment we wouldn’t have wanted to miss.
Because as we watched the father feed his fledgling…
as they performed this beautiful gastronomic ballet…
we were reminded of the circle of life and the important part that parents play.
How all parents want to keep their offspring safe…are tryin to do their best
whether it’s a human being like me…or a bird with a red triangle on its chest.
How all parents should be feeding, housing, protecting and celebrating
the little ones whose lives they all had a big part in creating.
As I look around at what we humans are doing to one another…
with our wars, our prejudices…our abusive and hateful words….
I sometimes wish we were less like humans…
and a little more like the birds.
An old sweetheart of mine never believed
in daytime dreams, because they shattered
quickly and shaking her unconvinced head
silly words came out of her mouth admitting,
" Aren't fantasies unrealistic dreams...
when they appear more tempting
then a cake with irresistible frosting?
And while she cut it with careful fingers,
" The outside tasted very sweet,
but the inside looked kind of hard;
its whipped cream was soft and white,
its filling was solid and not much inviting! "
It's worse than a thriller too unconvincing and trite,
although to the novice novelist the tragic plot
appeared to be real with the small-minded bigot.
Comparing fantasies to a decorated cake
is a huge and unforgivable mistake,
the ingredients look fine and exquisite;
but who garnishes it may lack artistry
and gastronomic skills to create an extraordinary
delight not applauded by someone who's inquisitive
about what went into it before baking it,
and laying it down on the table it looks perfect.
Are we still pursuing hallucinating fantasies
that weave themselves into allusive dreams
that make others notice how disappointing
they are having put all our trust in them?
Is this an end to dreaming coming to grips
with a stark and naked reality never being
challenged by a mindless dreamer who causes an ahem
not realizing that he's in a dire state of optical illusions...
instead of being persuaded that nobody ever wins.
on the Irish
side of my
family my
grandfather
who never i
was to meet
was a but
cher of
meats
so in
many
and in
countless
numbers
there were
chickens
that went
under
his blade
and as the
ancients
say trust
that all
must
pay not the
boatman
but have
change
for the
turn
stile for
while no
money is
needed to
reach
nirvana
you have to
to come back
to this world
and do it all
over again
to get it
right
so right
after his
passing
and the
giving of
his last rites
he will from
his wake
wake as
i take
my
Italian
Mother
out to eat
at a proper
ristorante for
gastronomic
delights
where we
both ordered
the same
secunda
chicken
karmagiana
Form:
On the streets of lively Mumbai,
Close to the sandy Juhu,
They serve Chaat and Masala Chai,
To make your heart go Yoohooo!!
The English, Locals and Arabs!
Jews, Africans and Chinese!
Gather to the aroma of the herbs,
And to relish the Indian Cuisine!
Vending stalls have lined the route,
As the natives and tourists wander in,
Flanked by cycles, bikes and touts,
Amidst the music and the din.
This mela of colours and clothing,
Will make a rainbow look white,
travellers in town need updating,
And wear colours that are bright!
It is dusk, and it is getting dark,
the street lights are coming on,
Be warned of strangers in the park!
Hide your wallet, or they will be gone!
Watch the trash, the puddles at feet,
And the stray dogs at your shin,
At every shop a smiling greet,
“Try our food! Please step in!”
Unique, unique is this ensemble,
On the streets of sweet Mumbai,
Where petty human irks crumble,
In the stream of gastronomic joy!
See the Mexican laugh with the Texan,
Over the Goan seafood platter,
Even the Arab and Jew have taken,
A place at the table together!
The leaders at the United Nations,
Who have failed to make a deal,
Must learn from this congregation,
How problems are solved at a meal!
UN policies, treaties at the table,
Have had no effect on peace,
But sandy Juhu is ever so stable,
For people eat and mix with ease!
Let these vendors in Mumbai, Juhu,
Take the lead in creating the peace,
Let their Chai make you go Yoohoo,
And hatred in the world will cease!!
On the streets of lively Mumbai,
Close to the sandy Juhu,
They serve Chaat and Masala Chai,
To make your heart go Yoohooo!!
AZAFRAN dances tango well
SPANISH IN ARGENTINA.
Divinely harmonized
in the vinaigrette, onion, pepper
and tomato ... it's the joyful sound
of the barbecue music ...
In phenomenal pas de deux
the carrot and rice ...
When alone, the tomato is whole
BLUSH in FLASH ...
Peas drummed on the plate
waiting for the skewer of
strange dance of forks ...
Potatoes are made COCKTAILS
when from POMME DE TERRE
are announced ...
It's gastronomic festival on the tables
and in salads ... or in the Chinese pagoda
of "barges"
Festive dance of dancing vegetables
at its own party ...!
The orchards are bare
Their branches picked clean
Vegetables all gathered
Carrots. potatoes, beans
Israel's dwelt outdoors in 'booths'
For the last seven days
The Festival of Tabernacles ending
Today its very last day
There's been rejoicing and dancing
Spirituality in abundant profundity
Blessings, prayers, ceremony
To accompany gastronomic fecundity
Can it all be over, finished so soon
To end with a whimper, instead of a bang
With the appearance of tonight's moon
--Well, it's not! God invites Israel to hang
out with Him now indoors for one more long day
called 'Shemini Atseres,' which means the Eighth Day
a day of unbridled joy, celebrated with the Torah
in circles of smiling faces, all dancing the hora!
Happy Shemini Atseres and Simchas Torah!
Sunday evening, October 20 through
Tuesday evening, October 22, 2019
___________________________________________
Torah = A parchment scroll on which the Old Testament is written in Hebrew
Simchas Torah = Rejoicing with the Torah/Law
DUCK AFTER DUMP PING THE DON
air ring ma thoughts - no matter aye ham
juiced one twenty first century mwm ape
serves as genuine s cape
to fly (during pitch black hours of night) and escape
burning effigies, where his jumbo jet, a sonic boom stick bewitching like Snape
temporarily tough feign ruffled feathers sans rape
pay shuss selfish lust, when world sliding down behavioral sink,
where he doth jape
and me as distant outlier from madding crowd i gape
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
At the sheer inanity
trumpeting strumpets donning an innate
prejudice and senselessness purr
blind faith toward self avowed demigod -- seize whore viz Cesar
his hair coiffed and puffed like it whir
wind blown kickstart ting mobs to stir
paying bodyguards to evict ruckus-causing murmur
oh...how the masses will let this country
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Go to hell in hand basket
and rack up stratospheric global debt
cause zing this one measly mortal male to fret
that totalitarian rule will force every man,
woman and child to march....het
two...three...four, while the billionaire
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
turns a third blind eye speeds away in his foo fighter jet
argh...heavens to Betsy, how did the fickle finger of fate let
this pompous ass
vacuumed majority votes across world wide net
to finagle vox populi, and groom hooligan nasty ruffian thugs
with smashed face s as his smart pet
bump ping uglies henchmen set
to create their own version of the tet
offensive, despite croup bawling ashen faced deportees
whose tears sentence innocent to po' ver tee branding indiscriminately vet
so culled unwanted ill eagle "aliens"
labored with nose to grindstone
fingers to the bone vainly, their american dream parched whence whet.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Long story short - pondering my rental circumstance will equal net
zero importance, and will be upended if this ret
chad, ewol, googly-eyed, gastronomic, narcissistic bullish don will set
the spark for world war three - via gone ah re: ha...ha...ha...to all vet
tureens within the american crucible melting pot - with backs whet
unless....Katrina and the Waves, superman or Sabrina can oust him yet!
Foreign Travel- Portugal
It is all that is unspoken that gives a place its atmosphere.....the endless turmoils that come from living....peaceful Celts conquered by Romans
after centuries of resisting. The conquerers monuments still dominate large paved squares .....wide mosaic walking malls with outdoor cafes set a carefree atmosphere. Cobblestones retain the ancient tone of busy roads.
Teal seas sweep out to weathered coastlines ....white buildings jumbled over low hills. Resilient vineyards, olive orchards, cypress and eucalyptus trees, impervious to wind, dot the stony landscape. Dusty green foliage that triumphantly survives between rains.
.....And then there are the people- proud gracious and friendly. A cuisine that is complex but simple in a mind boggling variety. Delicate pastries filled with rich custards, endless varieties of savory pies. Earthy rustic dishes of meat,fish, beans and colorful salads. Buffets crowded with hearty breads, fragrant croissants and inviting desserts. A gastronomic adventure.
....next came the discovery of nesting storks at Comporte, a small coastal,resort town, one hour south of Lisbon. We encountered them in giant stick nests high atop tall chimneys on ancient buildings.
After that -was Casa Palmela ...our most treasured find. A regal, historic residence turned five star hotel. Grand in an old-world style.
Set on a vineyard with low white stucco walls, tall conifers and palms-low-growing with thick sturdy trunks. Who could describe the relaxed balmy atmosphere, the evenings discovering new delicacies and fine wines
in the warm glow of sunset. All too soon we had to leave
But then, why did we leave? To return again, I'm sure.
9/24/17
Foreign travel
Contest Judged: 10/7/2017 1:16:00 PM
Sponsored by: Thvia Shetley
Honorable Mention
Oops!
In our backyard five apple trees abide - harvest of red, yellow, green fruit our pride
Bushels of fruit overflow from their baskets - looks like nature this year blew a gasket.
Way too many apples for us to eat - now time to share of our ripe apples sweet
So with our neighbors we’ll divvy these treats - for lunches, pies, snacks and midmorning feasts.
Just a month later - just enough for a pie a Sunday night treat as cold raindrops fly
Measure the spices then roll out the crust - bake in the oven - dessert just for us!
Oops! Tripled the flour! Now I lament - :o - as we pick out baked apples from flour cement!
True story! Instead of 3/4c of sugar I added ¾ c of flour! At least we salvaged the apples. My boys have never let me forget this gastronomic disaster! A true lesson in humility!
11-24-20
Contest: Make Me Laugh with Some Humor
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin