Long Moussaka Poems

We came walking blind bends at dusk, 
An overhanging fig picked fresh.
No pavements, just a nervous trust 
that drivers would skirt our single line.

Hugging the roadside with torches lit, 
Phones swung glowing to the ground...

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The Avenue of Gastronomic Delight

Down the broad avenue called Gastronomic Delight
City life gathers when twilight awakens;

In eateries, drive-ins, greasy spoons and taverns – jumpin’ joints jumpin’
Like Snoopy with his dish doing the suppertime dance;

Lured by...

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MY 62ND BIRTHDAY
It’s my birthday and I’m in my 62nd year
I’ve shared the laughter and the tears
I love birthdays and there’s been a lot
I love all the cake so far that I have got
I did...

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Let’s begin with
A strong fresh
Brewed Greek coffee
The aroma alone,
Will wake up 
Your senses, 
Allow you to
Let go, to keep 
An open mind to delight
And excite 
You, relax your taste buds.
About to travel,
Don’t put up fences,
Today...

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Original version:

Phone for the fish knives, Norman
As cook is a little unnerved;
You kiddies have crumpled the serviettes
And I must have things daintily served.

Are the requisites all in the toilet?
The frills round the cutlets can wait
Till...

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I've traveled from the farm in Indiana, the place of my humble birth,
To places I never dreamed of seeing all around this earth!
On ships, trains and airplanes visiting fascinating ports of call,
And dining in hoity-toity...

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The old decrepit cemetery sits abandoned in the courtyard  
Whistling tumbleweeds roll, moaning and groaning out of perimeter  
Its an eternal hell hole for jackals,  sorcerers, witches and daemons. 
Damnation  is...

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We begin at the beginning: a clove of garlic, too hard-headed
for its own good, combined with two large onions, their first denuding 
revealing fallow gold: the second layer, a pale green puberty,
then, the heartless blade...

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I am a gleaming aubergine
in an oval dish
My purple skin is polished
Like BBC English.

I await my fate for I am ripe
My seeds fulfil my wish
Soon,soon the knife will cut me up
As corn in fields is...

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My mom had a dish she called leftover soup;
I think it arose from World War Number Two,
When nothing was wasted, when all was recouped.
Sometimes it was creamy, sometimes like a stew.

And all those jars in...

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windswept windsurfing wallabies warbling whales wailing................................................................................

A pink fish travelling with a tea towel is neither in a rush or dirty. Gridlocked gorillas getting grapes gracefully glide. Seafront mystery in windswept hair carrying a carrot, a...

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Insipid, tasteless, no excuse,
a texture somewhat like a sponge.
I see it served in ways gourmet,
but they’re not fooling anyone.

My father had a fancy boat,
so elsewhere, we were somewhat poor.
I grew to hate those purple eggs
with...

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I am certainly proud of my Greek heritage.
My way of life is something nobody can disparage.
For lunch, instead of simple sandwiches made with white bread,
mama packed me things like moussaka instead.
Right now, I am getting...

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