Long Meat Poems
Long Meat Poems. Below are the most popular long Meat by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Meat poems by poem length and keyword.
Meat and potatoes and chicken will not do
Has to be beef and genuine Iowa-grown corn-fed too
Mashed potatoes not those flimsy flakes from a box
Gravy stirred by loving hands valuable as Fort Knox
Dessert can be cake if you cannot get Mom’s pie
If you can there’s nothing better under this old sky
Scalloped corn and twice baked loaded potatoes
With thick bubbly cheese sauce that freely flows
You are on a diet? This is really no problem at all.
There is a always a leftover pile of carrots left in the hall
Sometimes a new relative brings a piece of lettuce too
I will eat the good stuff leaving rabbit food for you
Trackers follow the animals,
herd them towards the waiting guns.
Big money paid by lazy hunters
who just want some trophies.
Not for them the slog through bush
they want an easy kill.
A bit or two taken to hang on walls
meat left where they fell.
Uncaring if they are endangered
they drink their beers in the hides.
Not wanting to get dirty or sweaty
they picnic on delicacies and wine.
Bodies of the slain beasts pile up
to be dragged away by scavengers.
While the men toast each other
proud of the day's work.
Tomorrow it will all be repeated
who I ask are the real beasts here?
They wait in the night-lit brightness.
I watch them from an over-magnified telescope;
youngsters and older
some dripping a scent of latent maturity,
a furtive effort to blend and not offend
the judges
who have sly thoughts
in their searchlights eyes.
The bling, the gewgaw glints,
the small of fake gold,
the shot passions of high skirts.
They form ordained disorderly lines
eager to bow before the bouncer,
to pour themselves
into the melee and scrum
the jumping pump of ecstasy.
Night life is wanting, is waiting,
it needs to club together,
to sweat the music,
to throb with the sound
of aortic rhythmic impulses,
to dance upon a crushed floor
breathlessly offering upwards
their erotic prayers,
on baited hooks of desire.
The young must,
they simply must,
and we trust they will be tired one day,
too tired, too busy, too distracted
as we are
to dance death away
while drugs snack on their meat.
ant* colony reigns
buttressed by food fortress
conquers hunger strikes
The Creator cares
even for ant colonies...
let's trust* God always.
*Proverbs 6:6-8 Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise: Which having no guide, overseer, or ruler, Provideth her meat in the summer, and gathereth her food in the harvest.
**Proverbs 3:5-6 Proverbs 3:5-6 King James Version 5 Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. 6 In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.
August 13, 2024
7th place, "Collective nouns" Senryu Poetry Writing Premiere Contest
Sponsored by Suzette Richards; judged on 8/15/2024
(Second verse added after contest was judged.)
Raw, raw foods
Ain't the true goods for you.
You can die hard from raw intoxication,
Contamination, i-in-inflammation…!
Cook 'em all the way through, yo.
"Y'all chef and staff,"
"Yes…?"
"I can't eat this. Its raw, raw m-meat-is r-raw-raawh meat!"
"Oh…. Well it's just fine, some people do it all the time."
"I ain't like them others, and this food is clearly undercooked…"
Leavin' the restaurant, no tip,
Bee'cause I got a grip and oh yes,
Raw grease on da floor, I see the chef slip.
Actin' like it's nothing, but really-
It's bad, bad foods. Raw, raw food.
I ain't gonna buy it, nor eat it if already bought'n it.
Any leader who disturbs
the flow of water is a fake,
he'll change its course
to his own advantage
to burst in bizarre rage
and make the ground shake!
No child was more spoiled
than Pluto who lived
in a luxury, spacious palace,
where nothing was denied,
he roamed in it delighted by riches
and through wide and huge halls
a lazy son smeared
with excessive disgrace
became a derisive boy,
a glutton with easy concessions.
His mother Furies
who excuted vegeance,
spoiled him a lot,
he looks for meat
in a burning pot,
not releazing he left it
unattended to play the harp
staring at fileds stripped of crop!
Be clever than him,
don't let sheer vanity
be the reason of gluttony,
what is gathers is metal plated
with shimmeing gold;
it started with a silly whim.
Enimes has three powers
to punish vilains and criminals,
she did not attend to her child,
who become fat, truant and unsound!
Pluto, the spoiled child with an evil grin,
was honored with a cold planet,
no rain for abundat crops;
everything untouched by sunlight;
other planets have wonders,
this one has none in any given season!
I'm wide awake and cannot sleep,
That's when I started counting sheep.
I began, with ten little lambs,
And then with two, headbutting rams.
Then three that graze the Vicar's lawn,
And twenty more, the sheepshearer's shorn.
While thirty from, down in the Glen,
Where the sheepdog guards them, in the pen.
And four called mutton, although not old,
Alongside six, safe in the fold.
Now I am feeling, rather sheepish,
Roast lamb, is my favourite meat dish.
So now I will count, something quite odd,
It's easier counting, peas in a pod.
"Morning Routine"
Oh what a Humpty Dumpty morning!
Good morning sunshine, oh my shoes are shining polished with love by Mr Sunshine, oh that is my dad!
Mr Sunshine : Lalalala! Morning children did you pray,say and play? Before you do that remember "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy!" So when you wake up you....?
Johnny : Hello Mr Sunshine, oh you are so bright , right , white and nice!
Hahahaha! Sunshine you are delight! You provide us with Vitamin D. When you wake up you...
1. Say a payer.
"Heavenly Father, thank you for the morning though l am just yawning , l thank you.
Amen."
2. You wash your face , watch your pace and tuck in your bed with grace , oh yes!
3. You brush your teeth, not with meat or wheat but with grit. A happy smile a happy chat.
4. You eat breakfast. Bananas do not do bananas. Cereal , imperial , visual and serial bliss, yay! Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.
The End.
The tiger languidly paces its enclosure
Its genetic memory of the hunt intact.
A movement catches its eye and its heart quickens.
The instinct to hunt, catch and eat
- to savor the delicious, warm meat and thick,
salty blood - stirs with intuition's reflex.
It freezes, licks its lips and crouches,
alert to possible prey.
Where are your rights, oh modern American?
With your family eating popcorn - behind glass.
Surely you are lessened by protection
and insulted by cool safety.
Climb the fence, ignore liberal warnings
and the alarmed cries of lesser men.
Stare down the now crouching cat
- ears back and cautiously approaching
in bent, alert stalk.
Claim your right to be free!!
Taste pure freedom.
Mr Bunny-the prince said he ate carrot
And hate being 24 carat.
He led a army and got a lead in the world
He was the one hero who won all the awards which filled his hall of fame.
He with a tail had to sail to sale a tale
Mr. Bunny was sent by a king to buy a scent
And asked would he mind going via land of wood
No said the Bunny as he know the way.
He saw a fairlady in the fare and on
the first meet he offered his dear with some deer meat
The king was worried about his son who has not arrived yet as he went before the rise of sun.
So he sent a mail from hill through his male about his ill!!!!
Bunny got to hear this a year later but it was too late
He was thrown out of the throne!!!
As he had no heir nor hair to be king of hare.