Long Marinara Poems
Long Marinara Poems. Below are the most popular long Marinara by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Marinara poems by poem length and keyword.
Ground brisket and red bean chili over rice
,...................
Deep fried spaghetti noodles w/zucchini
and bacon and marinara sauce
..............
Teriyaki Roasted pork or
Teriyaki Roasted turkey
W/ broad noodles and vegetables
.............,........
........beef half smokes
In carmelized onions and green peppers
Sweet potato pie
Bourbon carmelized
Pecans
And cheese cake
and brownie yeas
turnovers w/ coffee and rum
.........
.........................
Sourdough cinnamon rolls
With apple and radians
And brown sugar Carmel
.......
Smoked boneless rib sandwiches
Slathered in bbq sauce
One a toasted
Bun w/ the fixings
Served w both sweet potatoes fries
And our English chips
Don't forget the pickle!
..........
she liltingly spun smiling and singing
"You are my sunshine" waving for us
to join in
the pan dripped dancing tears on
the hot black stove where they sizzled and died
"My only sunshine" with a quick hug
her apron splattered with a thickening marinara -
summer's proud yield
the kitchen...was there another room?
dried curled wall paper near the stovepipe
exposed the decor carriages and princes of
yesterday Mom's childhood
"You make me happy"
the old black spaniel curled in the middle
nothing moving but eyes wary of
being tripped upon yet worth the risk
and perhaps a dropped meatball reward
"When skies are gray"
Worn linoleum exposed paths of time
the oak threshold proof
of welcomes and farewells
not really noticed by we in
our comfort of "now" not
thinking about our sunshine
being gone
"You'll never know dear how much I love you"
with a smile...always remembered
You are the stuff my culinary dreams are made of.
Unending shapes and sizes.
From skinny linguini to the rounded orecchiette
and squiggly fusilli.
As my tongue tastes morsels of your saucy tubular goodness,
I compose a rhyme of the ancient marinara to atone
for my over-the-top pasta love.
Stuffed, plain, buttered. Swimming in Sunday sauce.
The tastiest were those plain whites I pilfered from the pot
before nonna caught me. Whack! with the wooden spoon.
It’s rumored my very first uttering was mangia – an oft-heard word
spoken by mama as she attempted to feed me.
“You’re going to turn into a rigatoni
if you don’t eat something else,” she implored.
Ha! If I were a rigatoni, we’d be cugini.
I only liked you, beautiful al dente you.
And semolina only, please. I accept no impastas!
You’ve been with me through thick and thin,
mostly thick ... around my hips.
Late night comfort snack,
midday bowl of depression-busting goodness.
The breakfast of strong Italian women!
You are Sophia Loren’s guilty pleasure.
Mine, too. With the emphasis on pleasure.
One bite and I am transported back to childhood.
Visions of homemade pasta drying on pristine
white flour sack towels tantalize my taste buds.
You, dear pasta, are la bomba.
My love for you is unending, until we all farfalle down.
Elena's cooking is so much desired.
A wonderful chef, she is to admire.
Her Lasagna is all our favorite.
You want to eat slow, and just savor it.
Italian dishes are her Specialty.
Marinara sauce over Ziti with cheese.
She has many mouth watering dishes.
They are worth their weight in Gold
and riches.
A sweet aroma comes from her kitchen.
Great food there, you don't know what you're missing.
A wonderful wife and mother she is.
Judy and I, send her this Birthday wish.
May all your days be filled with love,
and receive great blessings from God
above.
May all your wishes do come true.
Great health and love for Gus and You.
Tavi G, Rusty, Judy, Me and Gaston
want to wish you Elena a Happy and
Wonderful Birthday today. God bless
you and Gus (Tavi) Briana, and my boy
Brandon.
on a stool
in my Nona's
kitchen sitting
watching there was
no food channel
it wouldn't have
mattered she had
no television
she was our
Italian Julia
Child
on a stool
in my childhood
i would watch
my Nona cook
without words
without recipes
a pinch of this
and three
bay leaves
for the
trinity
as time passed
before Nona
passed she passed
a rooted plant to
my Mum which
grew and then
before my Mum
passed she passed
some of the same
rooted plant to
me which
i planted now
walking in my
backyard smelling
the fresh scent of
Nona and Mum's
kitchen i cut
without
measurement
or recipe the needed
amount i know i need
oregano
Form:
Lasagna, linguine, spaghetti, ravioli, macaroni too
Is there any pappardelle for me and for you?
Here is marinara sauce lavished on angel hair
Sure try to take a bite of my pasta if you dare.
Shrimp scampi, chicken, blackened salmon. Why not?
Bucatini, vermicelli and fettuccine hit the sweet spot
Chunky meat sauce with hamburger a plenty.
I would add more cheese, but there simply isn’t any.
That is not fettuccine you fake connoisseur,
It is obviously tagliatelle. Your pedigree unpure.
Campanelle noodles with her sweet ruffled edges
Rivals cavatappi which gives cheese rather soft ledges
Spiral shaped fusilli has groves and crevices galore.
Radiatori noodles? I love this the best out of my top four.
Elbow macaroni for the kids maybe. They think it’s fine.
But make a fancier dish if you don’t expect me to whine.
Butterfly like farfalle makes me smile and laugh.
Gemelli is too twisty; it deserves a lot of gibble and gaff.
Penne noodles are my least favorite. I do not like them at all.
I could only eat them six or seven days a week winter and fall.
Olives
I like olives - so smooth and round,
wrinkled or puckered, by the pound,
from the deli or in a jar,
savory flavours, the best by far.
Firm and juicy, large or small,
ripe or salty, I like them all.
Stuffed with garlic, pimento slice,
those saucy tongues are pretty nice.
I like them as a tapenade.
On salad or pizza, they make me glad.
I like them ripe, I like them green,
sliced in marinara, petite or Queen.
Sprinkled on nachos, straight from the shelf,
green, black or purple, all by them self.
I eat them slowly, one at a time.
Or chomped on in pairs is equally fine.
Alfonso, Mission, Manzanilla,
Beldi, Gordal, Cerignola
Amfissa too and Kalamata,
Castelvetrano, and Taggiasca.
Dry cured, salt cured, soaked in brine,
to me they all are just - sublime.
Written 2017
'I'm Crushing On You'
Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
Derek
Will you be able to bear it?
First weekend in May
And who the Yankees will play,
Bringing slugging Louisville woods
Tigers score if they could.
In the Bronx
Bombers get what they want.
While springtime proposes
A tradition featuring red roses.
In Kentucky, a Derby is always held.
Stories these four legged athletes do tell.
As three-year Olds
Being very bold
In weather no longer cold
Hanging in their stalls
Standing tall
Waiting for publicity and post time calls
Dreaming of a Seabiscuit run
When the mile dirt something is done
Everybody will be wondering who actually won.
Cheering having fun.
Applauding the one
Off to the winner circle celebrating in the warm bluegrass sun.
On the first
Your Marlins will have the thirst.
Using those bats
To physically challenge the politically hosted Nats
Retired Pinstripe General German American King George watching from heaven.
Monitoring the two-dollar betting
While conversing with Mr. Ruth
Getting the Highlander truth
And Mr. Martin will still stir the marinara sauce.
Screaming and yelling, “yeah yeah you are the boss.”
All this is summer entertaining.
Purpose is relaxing so who is complaining.
Good luck playing Donnie ball.
Fielding a civil warrior army whose names are not on any military memorial wall.
Instead, their remembrance could be in a record book.
Noticed if a fan decided to look.
As I end this seventh inning stretch
I do hear Cracker Jacks do make a nice afternoon mouthwatering catch.
A collection of eaters
sharp glints on dull knives.
Silver forking service
dunking bread permanently cancelled.
I do not like
a hot-mike talking dinner.
I do not like the tinkle and clatter
of plates and dentures.
I want to eat a hoagie in a dark closet.
Slurp my gravy on a lapping tongue.
Gustation and gab
the flap of white lining and napkins
no, I do not like it.
Spoon my soup
through a letterbox,
let me finger my food
in a gut gulping gestation
far from the marinara
the red stained drip of dipping neckties.
Give me a take away,
give me gobble space
some bones to stew upon,
but most importantly –
long before the crème brulee
let me eat
ALONE.
Ground brisket and red bean chili over rice
,...................
Deep fried spaghetti noodles w/zucchini
and bacon and marinara sauce
..............
Teriyaki Roasted pork or
Teriyaki Roasted turkey
W/ broad noodles and vegetables
.............,........
........beef half smokes
In carmelized onions and green peppers
Sweet potato pie
Bourbon carmelized
Pecans
And cheese cake
and brownie yeas
turnovers w/ coffee and rum
.........
.........................
Sourdough cinnamon rolls
With apple and radians
And brown sugar Carmel
.......
Smoked boneless rib sandwiches
Slathered in bbq sauce
One a toasted
Bun w/ the fixings
Served w both sweet potatoes fries
And our English chips
Don't forget the pickle!
..........