Long Hamburgers Poems
Long Hamburgers Poems. Below are the most popular long Hamburgers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hamburgers poems by poem length and keyword.
To Eat A Peach
Spring is here.
The delicate tree blossoms replace
the delicate white lights of Winter.
From the petals fruit will grow.
Pears, plums, apricots, cherries,
nectarines...
Peaches.
I set the unripe soft rose and yellow
orb on the windowsill.
Two days later I tenderly lift it
and gently squeeze its warmth before
I wash it.
Biting into it...
the sweet liquid is Ambrosia.
The juice runs down my chin onto
my tee.
I greedily suck the peach’s flesh dry.
I daydream as I munch.
Peach cobbler, peach pie with a lattice crust,
peach shortcake, peach muffins,
stewed peaches, peach tea bread,
slices on your cereal, slices in a bowl with cream.
OR...only for dessert?
How would a
chicken breast soaked in a peach marinade taste?
My taste buds begin chattering.
Summer’s here!
corn on the cob, okra, tomatoes:
small ones that pop in your mouth
and big beefy wedges that
garnish crisp celery slices, carrot medallions,
tender Bibb lettuce, sliced mushrooms, cucumbers,
asparagus, broccoli, Vidalia onions, cauliflower...
Watermelon, blueberries, cantaloupe,
strawberries, honeydews, raspberries...
Juicy hot dogs, spicy barbecue, thick charbroiled hamburgers,
hot German potato salad, 3-bean salad, macaroni salad,
potato chips and French onion soup dip,
soft pretzels dipped in brown mustard, popcorn...
chocolate chip cookies, Snickerdoodles,
strawberry shortcake,
chocolate cake with red, white and blue frosting for the 4th,
apple pie
— softball, Mom, doggies —
I awake with a start. There is drool
on my pillow.
Another day begins but it’s really
not another day.
It’s the same day I’ve been living
since 1 May 2017 ~
The day I let the dentist pull
out the last 5 teeth I had
in my lower jaw.
And as I come to consciousness
my tongue pushes
against and spills out over the
the soft toothless tissue that burns constantly
and is covered in a thick gooey saliva ~ place a
teaspoon of Elmer's
glue in your mouth ~ if
you care to have a taste
of my reality.
Summer’s here.
Clear your palate.
Clean your plate.
Barbara Dickenson
1 May 2018
- [ ]
If I were allowed, just one last precious day...
Only twenty four hours, to swallow away
To fear, or to fret, what a waste of the gift
So I'll say, I'll confess, what a blessing it is
to be given this choice on how I might spend it.
This last gift bestowed, to spend as I please
Would I want to be shown, the most spectacular things?
What would I do, and how would I choose
My mind would be spinning like whirlwinds in spring
Would I run away to a tropical sun
take a brief holiday, with my hopes on the run?
My mind would be topsy, my soul would be turvy
and my heart would be yearning for those who I love
I have come to conclusion...after pondering, long
The choices, though many, aren't hard to resolve
I would spend it with loved ones, in the same, simple way
With things quite familiar, under the same morning sun
Time with my with family, so simple and fun
Laughter that rings through a house on a hill,
Hamburgers, sizzling, outside on the grill
Little ones shouting, teasing, frolicking,
Until evening breezes gather us still
In the dark on the porch, while my son plays guitar,
with a dish of ice cream, while counting the stars
Love reaching out with a unspoken sound
filling the silence, of a promise untold
Watching the sunset...in the hilltops above...
How grand is one day.... until the daylight is done....
A perfect days end..... if left with just one.....
_________________________________________________
Contest sponsored by Thomas Martin "Days"
Strollin' thro' the park the other day I chanced upon to meet,
An old feller sittin' on a bench and he invited me to have a seat.
He looked somewhat disreputable and I was hesitant at first,
But he proferred a fifty-cent jug of wine for to sate my thirst!
The hootch loosened him as he disclosed his monetary philosophy,
So I sat back to listen, thinkin' maybe I could learn a thing or three.
"Son, you see that brand-new Cadillac a-sittin' over there?
I'll tell you how I got that and how I became a millionaire!"
"I check under every cushion lookin' for loose change,
When checkin' into a motel, but my wife thinks that mighty strange!
I even pick up pennies off the street, savin' all I can find.
People titter and gawk at me but I pay them never mind!"
"You see these duds I'm a-wearin'? The best Goodwill has to offer!
Shoppin' there leaves more pelf to fill my bountiful coffer!
I get free pop from Goodwill when to them I grudgin'ly donate.
Of course, I require a receipt for my annual tax rebate!"
"Each Wednesday I take my spouse on a jolly spree,
To dine on ninety-nine cent hamburgers, a bargain don't you see!"
Well, I learned one thing from that old geezer I suppose:
You can never judge a feller by the cut of his clothes!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Precocious boy, yon ere the age of twelve,
Parades vast knowledge, complexity swelled,
Our simplistic share was well understood,
Kept back of minds, preserves naive childhood.
Green imparts years cherished adolescence,
Bottled, we heed, coupled coalescence,
Errant appendages spark normal steps,
Blessed gifted faculties, fellow class frets.
Removed and placed amongst the elder kids,
Baffled apostles sought entertained bids,
A young mind satisfy matured scholars,
Acquaint the novice school well-spent dollars.
Stands amidst the rare few emboss his name,
An honorary plaque glistens the fame,
Hung in the schools enclosed glass curio,
Captured on our family video.
Commencement day, he did stand with the rest,
His valedictory speech of years blessed,
Preteen vested had rivaled teenagers,
Noble college exemplary majors.
Evolved bove academia planes realm,
Ate hamburgers, fries, and an ice cream cone.
2019 November 12
howmanysyllables;
22 lines x 10 syllables per = 220 syllables total
Masticator
To salty, crunchy foods I gravitate:
Popcorn, fries, potato chips and nachos
And on my plate some food to masticate:
Fried chicken, pizza, hamburgers and tacos!
A large hot soup can soothe my appetite,
But serve it, please, with crackers I can BITE!
Sarong Song/ Chocolate Lament
For breakfast I sat down with sweetened cocoa;
I snacked on Hershey kisses all day long.
Then chocolate cream éclairs I had with dinner.
I’m changing my bikini for sarong.
A Masticator’s Fate?
Behind my mother I am following.
The white hairs keep appearing; it’s with dread
I picture myself one day swallowing
My food with dentures stuck inside my head!
For the What is a Randomling? Poetry Contest
Three rhymed poems presented as a set on one theme
The interlopers surrounded the old folk’s farmstead before dawn.
Farmer Jay wondered what planet they were now living on.
Their gravely gobbles were incessantly loud, it was a take over.
Farmer Jay’s hound dog was missing, his name was Leaf Clover.
What do they want? The missus asked her sweet husband Jay.
Not sure he said, but it does not look like a very good day.
Eat hamburgers and bacon at Thanksgiving was their soul-full yell.
They gobbled it all morning until the dinner bell.
Other demands were written down in blue and red ink.
By this time they had sold their farm to a young couple named Pink.
What about the turkeys? Are you taking them? The young owner asked.
They are your problem now, Farmer Jay said, picking up his statue of Bast.
I should eat healthy, I really should! But life is too short for that. Food, food, food,
it chases away the blues, it brings comfort to the soul. So here is a list of the foods
that I L.O.V.E. and that make me happy. You will note a theme of cheese and
dripping butter (and chocolate) . . .
a chocolate bar, anytime
bananas, green, not ripe
crackers and cheese, as a snack
drenched in blue cheese, salads and homemade croutons
even, tortilla chips and chunky salsa
French fries from a chip wagon (on my way home from the gym)
grandma's recipe for beef stew with loads of vegetables and a rich gravy
hamburgers and hotdogs off the barbeque with all the fixings
ice-cream, chocolate of course
just out of the oven, french bread
keep the donuts and coffee coming
loads of meatballs, made from mom's recipe (in a sweet tangy sauce)
macaroni made with three kinds of cheese
nothing better, than spaghetti with meat sauce and parmesan cheese
onion soup, french canadian style, dripping with cheese
pizza, deluxe (peanut butter on toast before bed)
quick take out of chicken wings with hot sauce
really, really old cheddar cheese
steaming cobs of corn, dripping with butter and salt
tomato, bacon, and lettuce sandwich
until I say stop, chocolate
vegetables fresh for a farmers market
what is wrong with me, this is all so unhealthy
x-tra, of everything, please
yogurt with strawberries on the bottom
zesty dill pickles, aged one year
______________________________
June 24, 2016
Poetry/List/The Joy Of Food
Copyright Protected, ID 16-804-040-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Smiling recollections,
summer evening reflections, now
almost gone for new generations
while my venues of childhood musings
and adolescent anticipations
...near extinction.
I must concede my willingness to share
what they will never recall
- the exhilaration
when Dad would pronounce,
"We're going to the drive-in tonight".
A creature double feature,
"The Blob" and "I Was a Teenage Werewolf",
both Feep worthy presentations,
fantasmically speaking.
The impatience for dusk was matched
with the rush of a 10 minute intermission
and, while spotlights played on the
darkened screen, cardboard pizza,
Buttercup popcorn, hockey puck hamburgers,
soggy steamed dogs, and french fries,
were greedily consumed for more
than the price of admission.
Hood ice cream cups with flat wood spoons
for dessert, then back with only
one minute 'til SHOWTIME to the
mosquito safe car where "Pic" coils
repelled the infestation while smoldering
on the glove box door - mesothelioma be damned!
Then, if we didn't escape with an
early exit dash, were caught
in the dust and chaos of the only
late night traffic jam in town.
And...years later, those teenage
trysts, without permission - I'll never tell
what movie?
But, always remember "Gourmet Confessions"!
"It’s Raining, It’s Pouring"
It’s raining, it’s pouring
The old man is snoring
He bumped his head
And went to bed
And didn’t get up till morning.
Shivers 'me Timbers
truth be told tune's like old
day had grew night he knew
possibles here unfolds.
I'm Popeye the sailor man
fought Brutus a former friend
was sent up the Big House
and fought with a Big Mouth
he ate all hamburgers then ran
I'm Popeye the sailor man
got lost in the jailhouse can
I flushed myself down
I'm the new man in town
I think I'm now in Japan
I'm Popeye the sailor man
lookin for food in this land
asked a theater house
they had a Bigger Mouth
Kabuk got spooked and he ran
I'm Popeye American
at food house saw Kabuk man
before I could get 'im
he ate all the saimin
and then he ran off to San Fran
I'm Popeye American
hungriest man in Japan
got a bowl of seafood
that stood and walked for good
still hungriest man in Japan
I'm Popeye kabuki man
I'm lean like a boogeyman
my muscles turned mussels
mid chopstick smiles--hustled
so quick boards I on sampan
I'm Popeye the kidnapped man
got Shanghai up to Thailand
there I met King Kong
who took me to Hong Kong
to ship's dock fast as I can
we passed the Meridian
we dropped anchor in ocean
as history stood still
herstory went on till
mid BC & AD timespan
the ship I was travelin
I met this young Hawaiian
his grandpa's Maori
and grandma's Tahiti
he called me the comeback kid
home, my yard--friend waterin'
said he changed my Tax Map Key
helped him up he'd told me
he'll fix things be golden
then showed news I'm lost at sea
I'm Popeye invisible
I will change impossible
and I'll be a name-changer
from Popeye the sailor
to Eyes-to-die-for the yachtsman.
Mrs. Claus kept warning Santa that this day might come.
But he pooh poohed it, and thought surely not, surely not.
Today he balked as he stared at the chimney, tight and glum.
Wishing he had spent last year eating more “what he ought”.
He had downed pumpkin pies, sausages, and hamburgers too.
He had tossed out salads with cheeses of yellow and blue.
He had devoured donuts, pasta, and spaghetti with delight.
So now here he sat staring, at a chimney that already felt tight.
Get on down there! Rudolph said with a snort and a wink.
You are magical you know, did you forget that, you twink?
Santa rolled his eyes; he got no respect from reindeer these days.
With a yippee coyote he went down the chimney in all kind of ways.
He scraped his knees and he bent his left foot a bit on the land.
What did you expect? Donner hollered down after him. A mariachi band?
Santa hear the reindeer having a good laugh at his body’s expense.
That’s okay, he thought. When I get back, I will install an electric fence.