Long Ravioli Poems

Long Ravioli Poems. Below are the most popular long Ravioli by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ravioli poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member I Like To Knit

Must maintain my upbeatness
Through all the hassles of moving
Must grin and giggle with each annoyance
Till things finally start improving

Haven't eaten for more a week
Can't find our horde of Chef Boyardee
The best is their new Over Stuffed Ravioli
Consumed in a minute twenty-three

Considering my sexy rotund chassis
My options are becoming so much less
There's a conspiracy by all the food makers
They want to see me in a bigger dress

They don't know who they're dealing with
They call me Big Jacko the Fit
Kids run for cover when they see me coming
But don't tell them I also like to knit


© Jack Ellison 2015
Form: Quatrain


My Favorite Vacation

My favorite vacation would have been my very last summer vacation 
travelling to Florida with my daughter and husband was an inspiration

Who knew, not long after we would be hit with a world wide pandemic 
the sun back then  was a splash of rich golden yellow, so totally Semic 

Early morning visits sleepy eyed like white tail deer we entered a shop 
hot bagels of every kind steamy coffees, summer dresses, flip flops 

Sun tan lotion by day, Italian ravioli by night, it was indeed a sweet holiday 
stretched out on the beach with sand between our toes we enjoyed the rays  

It had been ten years since our last real  holiday last time I had gone on a plane 
today I look at the photos and smile, who knew things would soon go so insane 

Maybe tomorrow it will be over and I can return to Florida with my small family 
this time my son might come along too then we can bathe there, peacefully...

Jan 26, 2022
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Take a Bite of My Pasta If You Dare

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.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Dinner Out! Hmmmm....

My hubby said "Honey,...you pick!...Let's go out to eat!"
I jumped up and said .....,"Let's do Italian!  Oh, what a treat!"
The waiter came promptly, handed a menu to me
There are too many pastas.... Oh, what will it be??
These names on the menu....so many to try
I'm confused ....what to order...just pour me some wine!!

Penne is money, and Linguine....a far away place??
Ditalini......sounds like a medicine.....when an ailing heart races!!
Fagiolini.....or Rigatroni......aren't those Operas  to sing??
Canneloni is a weapon!....And (un) Ravioli....which is happening to my brain!!!

My poor hubby is starving....grabs his fork, and starts to doodle
So I finally make a decision......."Waiter,......just bring me some noodles!!"
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Sophisticated Chef

Though I'm not a professional cook as the title might imply,
I can still whip up delectable fare in the blink of an eye.
And to an oven or a frying pan I needn't be a slave,
As long as I can open cans and boxes and use a microwave!

No need for me to spend hours cooking on languid afternoons,
Making a mess with spatulas, blenders and tablespoons.
I can simply open a box and fix macaroni and cheese,
Or thaw a spicy lasagna from a carton in a breeze!

Ah, the variety of gourmet soups I can extract from a tin,
All prepared to perfection, not too thick and not too thin.
Doesn't take me long to create a scrumptious mulligan stew;
Simply open a can and heat it up is all I have to do!

I never bother making vanilla waffles anymore from scratch,
When I can thaw Eggos from a box and enjoy a tasty batch.
Thanks to my microwave I can quickly thaw frozen pies.
(I didn't bake them but my gullible guests think otherwise!)

Me and my sidekick Chef Boy-r-dee make a fine spaghetti,
And also canned ravioli, tortelline and cappelletti!
I'm always happy to share with others the secret of my success,
And the proper presentation of fine cuisine with finesse!

Entry For Julia Ward's "Favourite Poem In Rhyme" Contest
7 July 2019
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member One Birthday

Birthdays will come, ...We can't make them go
Some filled with excitement, some simply ho-hum
Others we dread, because they remind us
Of the swiftness of years, that are falling behind us

It marks off the years, and the the day we were born…
Acknowledgement comes in some custom or form
Perhaps we must please, or try to conform ….
         to the norms of our peer's celebration.

Perhaps if we're lucky,..a nice dinner to please
a gift, or a chat.... a candle or cake... the singing “the” song….
There's nothing wrong with all that!
But the older we get, no piñata to claim......no pictures to frame

So to recall one “event”…this birthday I spent…
Nice enough, I suppose …but the day decomposed 
We rushed to this place, on a workday eve.  
Not much time to dine, we'd be home by nine
A restaurant table….just a few of us able
No balloons, no cake, no candle, no flames
But acknowledgement, just the same

Over plates of ravioli…and eggplant parmesan
So nice….. but did I notice a few yawns???

Then one special moment, that won’t be forgotten
My little blonde grandson….who gave me a gift
He reached into his pocket…with a shy little grin
Said, “Here is Darth Vader….He is all that there is"….
And opened his hand, and his eyes so sincere
And gave me a gift to remember for years...
"It’s all that I have, I almost forgot
I hope you will like him..... I like him a lot..
"But he's yours if you like him….It's all that I’ve got."
"Happy Birthday Grandma…."


Happy Birthday To Me !!


 
______________________________________________________
For "Birthday  Party Contest: Sponsor Nayda Ivette Negron
Revised 2/9/16
Form: Narrative

Premium Member The World's Greatest Chef

I don my towerin' torque at a jaunty angle when I prepare my cuisine!
Eat yer heart out, Gordon Ramsey; of all the world's chefs I'm the dean!
I can whip up a delectable repast in a trice from a can of pickled spam!
I've appointed myself the world's greatest chef - that I am, that I am!

Ain't nothin' better'n my ravioli heated from a can of Chef-Boy-Ardee,
Or a tasty frozen pie or cake defrosted in my microwave from Sara Lee!
Why, I can heat up a canned ham quicker'n Emeril Lagasse can utter "bam"!
I'll say it agin, I'm the world's greatest chef - that I am, that I am!

Try my tasty Eggo waffles or pancakes that I forge in my toaster,
Or the magnificent stews that I concoct from Dinty Moore in my roaster!
People rave about my sandwiches of Skippy peanut butter and Smucker's jam!
Are you convinced I'm the world's greatest chef? I think I am, I think I am!

I learned the art of grillin' hot dogs at French culinary ecole Le Cordon Bleu,
And it was there I cultivated my skill fer broilin' burgers on the barbecue!
I invite you to try a bowl of my delicious Campbell's New England clam!
I'll repeat it agin, I'm the world's greatest chef (or at least I think I am)!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Grandma's Kitchen

Thinking back, I remember the days when mom and pop would take me and my siblings to my grandma's house. Oh, how I used to love going there every Sunday. She lived in the upstairs of a two-family cobblestone home, in fact, that was where my parents were raised. Dad lived upstairs and mom lived downstairs. Little did they know they would eventually marry and raise seven little rascals, five boys and two girls. We would all cram into the station wagon every Sunday to visit and dine with grammy. Grandma passed away nearly forty years ago, but I have to tell you that I can still smell that delicious sauce cooking for the pasta, ravioli or my favorite- lasagna. When you walked into grandma's kitchen you immediately knew what was on the menu. Grandma's sauce recipe has been handed down to my mother who just about perfected the taste. Years later, mom became the grandmother and mom's kitchen became grandma's kitchen. Mom, may she rest in peace, sadly she has been gone thirty years now. Although grandma and mom have passed away and are no longer with us, grandma's sauce recipe still lives on. Every one of us, all seven, all to this day make grammy's sauce. The only difference for me is that now when my grandchildren come over to visit, they say- "I love the smell of Grandpa's kitchen" Yummy! 

the scent of the sauce 
grandma and grandpa's kitchens 
passed down over years
Form: Haibun

Premium Member Saturdays Rest

                      Just relaxing, 
                      safe and sound.
                      Not being a 
                      poetry hound...
                      Ravioli was truly 
                      nutritious...
                      Free of worry,
                      Tis so delicious!
                      Today, both body 
                      and mind....
                      In search of serene, 
                      still, spiritus.
                      Let go, surrender to 
                      inner calm...
                      No rush, just nectarine
                      sweet....soul-balm!

                                    7/31/2021
                                         -1-
Form: Rhyme

The End Is Near

One day the sun will rise only so far,
the earth will rotate but only slowly,
the elephants, whales, and jungle cats
will call out to each other,
rats and snakes will
dive deeper into their skins
as clueless as ever.

It will be cold so dress warm,
remember to layer.
On that day
our inner Christ will put on a wooly hat,
and will rise with us.
for it will be the End
the end of bull as we know it.

Trumpets will sound above Walmart.
In Vegas the Eiffel tower will topple
killing a French tourist.

There will be some that choose
to gnash their teeth,
but those idiots will always be with us.

The End will come,
not with a whimper but with
a lottery ticket,
for everyone will be a winner.

We will all hum along for a while,
then rise up in our glory.
The sun will begin to shine higher,
and Yay
that last winter shall turn to Spring.

Naturally a lot of fools and shysters
will be pissed off
that their prophesies have gone phut.

Even more predictably
the media will fail to report
the great event of our New Reboot,
and those pundit-lackies
will carry on berating us
with their endless daily judgments.

Looks like this afternoon
there will be showers of Ravioli,
among other signs and blessings.

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