Long Ingredients Poems
Long Ingredients Poems. Below are the most popular long Ingredients by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ingredients poems by poem length and keyword.
Cabal’s Cantankerous Carnival
Carefully they plot the final climax before midnight falls at summer tides
Anticipate what is brewing in the potty vessel of self-righteous ritual
Bellow the fire smack lips full of distasteful belief in merits of power
Add aroma with relish spice up grubby gruel grab ingest and deliver
Lust for confluence of mouth-watering dishes served with a price
Surrender humanity on their quest for more greed more consumption
Clearly man must eat and woman must feed gobble up nourishment
Altars stand tall but Lucifer serves no reminder of Satan’s crooked flesh
Resolution and resilience to international cuisine quite a chart on the menu
No mind is an island but with the right spoon they rule currents and water
Incriminate ingredients when the chief potboiler stirs oil limbo and stench
‘Virtue’ they shout ‘Pursuit of Happy Homicide’ ‘Survival of Fattest Egos’ Might'
A potent mixture emerges when eye balls turn jelly when brains overcook
Let us consider whether gluttonous carnage remains cannibalism at heart
29th 06 2018
I am happy, without using any pennies
To help the waiting receiver
Who wholly agrees.
To help you admire the beauty
Of Mother Nature, observing the lights and lines,
Contours and colors.
To help you smell the soft scented flower
That's different from any essence
In a tiny container.
To help you listen the human melody,
The song of birds and the breeze
On top of the trees.
To help you consume the modest meals
That enclosed hearty ingredients
And healthy ideals.
To help you bathe the morning sun's warmth,
The evening gentle wind that caresses naked arms.
I am happy to make you smiling;
Even it’s a small smile in your life
But it's a huge happiness in my life.
Off the market I dashed
In search of ingredients
To soup my poetry.
To all kiosk and stall I went
Yet I find none of it.
Fagged out on my fro home
Lost in thought of how
To soup my poetry.
There I stumbled on it
Ingredients of my soup.
On my way I paused
For the first stanza
My thinking personified
With a poetic licence.
I smiled with an imagery of simile
All over me was a pun of metaphor.
Only in consonance with an
Hyperbole of alliteration.
Paradox became my ordeal
With an echo of onomatopoeia
Still in an irony of oxymoron
Dancing with a metonym.
I got home with more
Ingredients from my mind
Then and there, I began to
Soup my poetry in poetrysoup.
Alayande Stephen.T
12.45pm
17th August 2006
On my way to Apagbon in Lagos on the behest of
IPC Chairman,Lanre Arogundade.
Specially packaged for www.poetrysoup.com, as a wonderful family.
I overheard you say
you are planning a big celebration
for later this year,
when Trump is defeated
for re-election.
I am ready to be invited,
if you would be so kind
to reverse your motives
to celebrating positive alternatives.
I have an uncomfortable memory
that celebrating the former regime's end
feels alarmingly Trumpian,
rather than introducing a new 2020 green deal
healthier wealth for everyone.
It is this negative anger
growing to more negative fear
that most defeats our capacity to touch each other
with mutual trust,
democratic health,
civil trust in a wealthier future together
than climatically apart.
Earth yields some clues
warmly regarding necessary and sufficient ingredients
for a healthy swamp,
a positive capital co-investment,
an economically resilient,
politically resonant,
multiculturally effective democracy.
Stuckness
She does not choose to celebrate.
MotherEarth
and EarthMothers of all regenerations
vacuum up and sweep out
intolerance.
A competitive model of capital extraction
rooted in devouring our own habitat,
our own win or lose militarized young,
our Earth's pathological neglect,
is incompatible
antithetical
to a resiliently healthy eco-democracy
recomposing our own healthy born
win/win expectant
left with right,
not left v right, children.
Healthy robust systems
are cooperatively owned
and multiculturally managed
and polyculturally celebrated
by organic nurturers of ego/eco-resonance,
left and right deep bicameral learning nutrients,
informed by Earth's democratic history
of multiculturing nutrition,
life,
warm truths and trusts,
integral ways
and ego/eco-democratic robust means
Bicameral
Bilateral intelligence
Binomial double-bound
not not pro-green transitional
great reweaving manifestations,
inaugurations,
cooperatively-owned celebrations
leaving no one behind,
Not even straight white male narcissists,
emotionally wounded children
of all ages and parties,
naked emperors
seeking sycophantic celebrants.
I thought I would try entering Three Contest
With one poem--
MY POETRY SOUP RECIPE
By Cindi Rockwell
A NATURAL METAPHOR
By Jamie Pan
WORD CHALLENGE CONTEST
By Silent One
This should triple my losses,
Just think 3 N/A's for the work of one.
I must be getting lazy or going crazy
but here goes.........
I might seem as nutty as a fruitcake
Or having a slight touch of Insanity
But here's some food for thought, ingredients I've got
Though my recipe for Soup, starts with Humanity
Now, for those who like life a little spicy
I'll add a little dash of profanity
I'm afraid to put to much, for it'll taste like double dutch
And everything I say, just Inanity
I hate to say it, but, I stir the pot
'Cause people who like soup, hate Mundanity
But when the kitchen gets to hot, and I gave it all I've got
I step outside and show some Urbanity
Sometimes, I will burn a dish or two
Hoping that's the only Fatality
Cause if it doesn't rhyme, I'll just add a pinch of thyme
And never taste the flavors of Brutality
It's true I like to add a smirk or giggle
Course, there's times it boils down to reality
So, any way it goes, in your mouth then out your nose
I'm really do not care much for Formality
I tried to make three dishes at a time
To only serve, a half baked Morality
After working, my fingers to the bone
It's clear, I'm no "gourmet" of Mentality
Now everything I make is "Du Jour"
Creating new flavors with Vitality
And if they scorch my entrée, on the way
I hope I never act with Volcantiy
Being reflective on where I grew up
Let me tell a story
Who would have thought
That those dusty roads would formulate a person like me
A woman with rare talents
Never underestimate the power of the mind
Nor the upbringing
Those sweet and sour memories
Are the ones that give foundation to growth
A clear mind set and positivity
Never be ashamed where you come from
Nor be apologetic of who you are
Those shameless and fearless ingredients
Are the ones that builds a character
A clear path to showing itself
Being respectful on who I have become
Let me indulge this story
Who would have known
On who I would become
A woman with many possibilities
It is felt in numerous ways
The presence of the holy spirit
It touches the soul
And the tongues are spoken as they are there to be spoken
In a accurate and precise way
It takes you to another dimension of the unknown
Let yourself go, let it guide you
Fears are not allowed
Will be surprise where it will lead you
Gratefully as you land
It takes you to another level of maturity
Let yourself grow, let it grow within you
Holding back is not the key
Will be amazed who you become
Appreciative as you are blessed
It is made up of various ingredients
The presence of the spirit of discernment
It distinguishes the environments
And analysing of circumstances as they are there to be analysed
In a formative and intellectual way
Some words bring upon us barriers
that makes one want to give up
to overcome them is insurrmountable
so we think don't drink this cup
But these can be changed
impossible is a word like that
separating the im from possible
is real rather quite smart
This brings a different dimension
when your eyes to it take a look
it brings hope and courage through
bringing new ingredients when you cook
Give your I a full capital
stand straight hold out chest
be confident striving ahead
sail full on waves crest
That impossible will surely split
making possible a real true fit
you will then be your own self
the I'm surely to not split
('Nothing is impossible, the word itself says I'm possible' )- Audrey Hepburn (1929-1993)
Panagiota Acrostic
A Panagiota Cocktail.
INGREDIENTS
P~Phoebe, the moon goddess
A~Aphrodite the goddess of love
and beauty
N~Nike, the goddess of victory
A~ Asteria, the goddess of the stars
G~Gaia, the Earth Mother and Moon goddess
I ~Iris, the goddess of the rainbow
O~ Oh, Panagiota, proud mother of a
daughter who has Arcadian roots.
T~ Theia, goddess of of sight and the
bright sky
A~ Artemis~ goddess of nature and
birth.
Mix all ingredients. Handle with love,
care and above all~mirth and enjoy.
**Yia Mas to Peter who suggested this
poem~ means to your health..with
a glass of Retsina. Or whatever Greek
expression you choose or one I do not
know.
Disclaimer:I am no master of the the Greek
language at all nor a Hellenic history major.
My heart beats Greek, if you listen quietly with love
and no judgement. If you could see my heart~ it
is the colors of the Greek flag.
Thanks again Peter!
Panagiota Romios
2/25/2019
Micro-Feasting
by Odin Roark
To propagate the dung heap of ignorance,
Is to place on low simmer
A main course of illiteracy.
How festive the chefs of mental starvation
Make the tables of 140-character-feasting,
Luring the gullible
Along with the lazy,
The doltish
And the lost,
To gorge, then purge,
Then ignore the noxious vapor
Of sentience becoming residue waste.
So stirs this caldron of abbreviated ingredients,
Stifling taste buds for savoring delectable elocution,
Reducing vocabulary to bulimic shorthand
And expecting all to join this achromatic work-around.
Hopefully, the language of full syllabic enunciation
Will return with a vengeance,
Sending expression’s drive-by expediency
Into its all too deserving exile.
Consideration pauses in the distance.
One can hear the echoes of dismay,
“Does this mean we’re expected to read…
AGAIN?