Long Stomach Poems
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I eat sugar and salt, donuts, coffee cake and jalapeno peppers too.
Because these are things a meddling doctor told me not to do.
They are my forbidden foods, so I grab them up in droves.
If I had hot homemade bread, I would devour up those loaves.
I have gained a bunch of weight. Weight I had lost long ago.
I have a gold medallion from a diet club, which gives me now a woe.
Have gained sixty-four pounds I lost, adding to them twelve more.
Hey! Husband of mine, are you heading out to the Happy Foods Grocery Store?
I am an emotional eater.
When my feelings are hurt, I reach for the chips.
Most of the weight is in my stomach, but also my butt and my hips.
Once upon a time I stopped overeating, but I am older now and say.
I have to do something fun to get through the rest of this horrible day.
Dear Blabby
There is a matter I must get off my chest. I am due to marry in the fall, but now have cold feet. My fiancé is a lot brainier than I am. Intellectually, she’s head and shoulders above me. I have to hand it to her. But lately she’s been a pain in the neck. She jumps down my throat whenever we don’t see eye to eye. She makes me the butt of her jokes, venting her spleen. She even gives me a tongue lashing whenever we have disagreements.
Blabby, I don’t have the guts or the heart to level with her face to face. You see, I don’t intend on marrying her, but haven’t the stomach to deal with my dilemma. We’ve spent an arm and a leg for the wedding. Just a short while ago we were head over heels in love. But recently we’ve just been thumbing our noses at each other. When I tell her I love her just to keep the peace, she elbows me in the ribs before giving me the finger.
Blabby, here’s the bottom line. I am a very handsome young man. Women find me irresistible. My skin is flawless and bronzed. My eyes shine like Burmese sapphires. My hair is golden and wavy. And as for my torso, arms, and legs? I am a Greek god. My fiancé is kind, brilliant, and giving, but she’s no raving beauty. The mirror tells no lies. I deserve a gorgeous wife. Being modest and shy by nature, I ask your advice on how to break the news to her.
Too Handsome In Honolulu:
Dear Too Handsome,
Tell her you are backing out to marry your one and only love, yourself. Enjoy the honeymoon! Aloha!
I tell you that I love you, yet you never say it back, When I look at you you glare through me as if I were a piece of glass.
Everyone is different now, My cell never rings, No one pays me a visit, Why doesn't anyone acknowledge my sound ?
A year has passed but still no change, My spouse now belongs to another, The friends I once had now hang out with others.
Why am I going through this ? What have I done ? I had many friendships and family now I have none.
I walk through a Cemetery my stomach gets a knot, I look down and notice a plot. My name engraved in stone. I was 6 feet under, I never realized that I was gone. ™©
By : Shawn Muñoz
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Token
by Patrick Cornwall on Friday, January 20, 2012 at 10:08am
He was the last of his kind and it was known.
Some dated him one hundred years and he had style.
Christmas was his time and the rest of the year he felt nothing.
But Thanksgiving came and some cared and tried to help.
They came in their vans with Almighty Church of Thanksgiving and Christmas painted on its sides.
But after the New Year he was alone again except for his friend the rat.
He slept in the subway, where it wasn't too bad.
His clothes were in tatters and the rat brought him food.
His blanket was newspapers which he read and then slept underneath.
Sometimes the rat read to him while he snoozed.
The niners went casually around him and his newspapers but some listened to the rat reading.
The rat was nice and sometimes the Old Man would read to him too.
The rat loved the funnies and would roll over holding his stomach laughing.
The Old Man grabbed his Thunderbird and gave some to the rat.
The rat drank when in the mood and most times he was.
The rat wasn't supposed to drink because of his high blood pressure.
The old man loved the rat but he often disappeared and it made him sad.
He took a pull and wondered where the rat had gone and braced against the cold.
He saw the rat sitting in the booth where the tokens went and rat waved him through.
He was hungry and searching found a perfectly good hamburger in the pickup window.
People watched as he dug in the trash can and the train lighting the tunnel.
He washed the burger down with the last of his Thurnderbird and decided to get on the train before it came.
We gathered around an old, grey battered table,
one leg was to short, darn thing was unstable.
Spread out on top laid a map with torn edges,
markings in pen, circling valleys and ridges.
Azimuth in hand and pen in grips sight,
lines were drawn showing us our next fight.
Two klicks up north, and a jaunt to the west,
we'll cover that ground, with no stopping to rest.
Our numbers are weak, but survival is strong,
we've been here before, it seems years long.
Battle hardened and faithful, this small force of ten,
doing these type missions, time and time again.
We'll wait until dark, deep into the night,
heading out then, beginning our plight.
With time on my hands, and empty stomach to fill,
then gather some rest, positive that I will.
I drift off to sleep, floating a wave of memories stored,
she's such a warm site, melting my heart deep to its core.
Her arms are crossed, leaning against open doorway,
my auburn haired beauty, batting lashes at me.
Her eyes are light hazel, gold, green, and soft brown,
lighting up my dark soul, thats been vacant, a ghost town.
Just as she was bout to speak,
with her voice so soft, a vocal treat.
I feel my body being gently shaken,
My fellow warrior saying, "its time, awaken."
Coming to, while wishing I had heard the thoughts she spoke,
within my silent, but visual dream, before I woke.
The time is dark the mission ahead, seek enemy,
we will kill them all, and pray we take no casualties.
Almost instantly as I exit the olive drab colored tent,
mind sails to my auburn haired beauty, smiling,winking, Heaven sent.
I must return back to her whole, just as I had left,
not arriving home, within flag draped, silver casket.
Auburn haired beauty, she's worth my life and more,
her freedom, our home, today, I will kill for.
The world feels heavy, a mountain of lead,
With sharp, silver needles that pull at my head.
A hollow in the stomach, a weight in the chest,
While the heart tries to find just a moment of rest.
I reached for a hand that I thought was a light,
But they traded my trust for a shadow in flight.
Now the hallways are long and silence is loud,
Just a face in the distance, a ghost in the crowd.
The ink on the paper felt tangled and wrong,
As the rhythm of "self" lost the words to its song.
I'm weary of carrying the blame and the ache,
Of feeling so brittle, I'm destined to break.
But in the quiet, I'm turning my eyes,
To the one who can hear all the world less cries.
Though my body is weak and the road is uphill,
I'll walk through the valley and try to be still.
If the world has forgotten, I know He has not,
I am more than the pain and the battles I've fought.
I'll keep my solitude, sacred and deep,
Until there is peace in the promises I keep.
The howling of the lone gray wolf
His fingerprint sound waves
Reaches out to his alpha female
And to enemies like staves
His hunt unfruitful this night
No ungulates found alive
Few scavenged tidbit pieces
Barely enough to survive
His alpha mate heavy with pups
tucked into the warm den
Hunger gnawed away at her, weak~
dreams of a fat tough hen
Maybe fate would befriend her mate
At least a deer he'll kill
And bring home a lean hind quarter
An empty stomach fill
Sixty days or so the liter carried
Must be many large pups
Maybe four or even seven
Seven pups a deluxe
They'll be delivered just in time
For the deer, elk and moose
To give birth to their fawns~ easy prey
Food source hidden in the spruce
Hunger will recede through the summer
They'll be plenty of game
Maybe at least one pup will survive
To the future lay claim
Contest: Canis Lupus The Wolf
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Written: April 06, 2015
twists and turns of serpentine.
perfumes that emanate from time to time,
through a wall of quietus-trees.
perils in the doubting waters,
amidst the anaconda, caiman, and piranha.
perhaps, after all, man is the more sinister
as his stomach growls
and his face’s beaten bittersweet
by the zenith of the Amazon.
his legs carry portage and dugout canoes.
sinkholes churn whirlpools.
vines hang down and choke.
~ most hope from within ~
for despairing we learn to be thiefs,
murderers hewn out of fear.
insects further trouble and attack,
and tribal eyes spy, and agitate
in perpetuities’ suspicious waters.
Rio Roosevelt thrives cantankerously
as Theodore’s enemies attack,
with deadly scratches and malaria.
but Rondon never forgets
to map and be respectful
of the tribes, even if
it’s to his own demise.
1/22/2018
When your life’s journey starts down its final hill,
and your suitcase of memories is heavily filled,
you will want those contents to be of things that you’ve done
and not of those journeys never begun.
Even memories of failing at things that you tried,
lessons learned at which you had cried,
beat wishes that you had done a lot more -
opportunities left at memory’s door.
You want memories of adventure and pushing the edge;
Memories of surprises to which you were led;
Memories of daring at new attempts to fly;
Memories of a stomach full of butterflies.
Memories can be made at any time, but when you have to sit down to rest,
memories made during life’s prime will be the memories that you like the best.
So, take the advice you hear this older man say;
Get off your butt and go make a memory today.
Presenting to the emergency room, patient "BB,"
a dad who swallowed a snow globe carelessly.
Out of ALC, voices crying, "YOLO,"
PO, he took a big gulp of fantasy snow.
NAGI, his stomach churned immediately.
He could hear little elves dancing with a BEG.
Brought to the ER unconscious with HBP,
HAGMA, and tachypnea, unfortunately.
A CT scan revealed a kidney infection.
MDs dispensed an antibiotic injection.
Dialysis was administered, but he was still KO.
His kidney's were decorated in crystals of "snow."
Ten WKs later he could walk again (to the bar),
but will likely need dialysis 4EVR.
You are what you eat, (BB made a recovery)
but don't be a snowflake, the moral of the story.
(Watch the attached video for the full story.)
ALC- alcohol
YOLO- you only live once
PO- by mouth
NAGI- not a good idea
BEG- big evil grin
ER- emergency room
HBP- high blood pressure
HAGMA- high anion gap metabolic acidosis
CT- computerized tomography
MD- medical doctors
KO- knocked out
WK- week
4EVER- forever
3-21-2021
ACRONYMS IN COUPLETS Poetry Contest
Sponsor: L MILTON HANKINS