Long Vegan Poems
Long Vegan Poems. Below are the most popular long Vegan by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Vegan poems by poem length and keyword.
I was driving with my friend Delia in my brand new Honda Civic
It was noon and we were on our way to see my Auntie,
she’s my mum’s sister, we call her Evil Olive!
Suddenly I swerve to avoid something in the road and skid on some dumb mud -
Was it a cat I saw?
Won’t I panic in a pit now?
Sadly last year there were ten animals I slam in a net.
I was distraught; I don’t want to step on no pets.
Delia saw I was ailed, do you need a drink she asked?
“Rum… rum…” I murmur.
Silly me, I redden, I mustn’t drink and drive
Delia takes over the wheel and pulls up at Walmart’s tram law
We get the trolley passing the fruit and veg, no lemons, no melon.
Oh drat! mom had asked me to take some fruit to Auntie Olive
I’m a vegan, ew eat a ewe - eating meat; the thought is quite disgusting
I wonder when they are killed do geese see God?
I grab something for tea, Ya! Pizza zip pizazz! I pay.
Palindromes II Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
10/9/18
Gather your ingredients, it’s time to cook,
Follow these steps, like reading a book.
Two tablespoons of olive oil, bacon four strips,
Or mushrooms sliced, for vegan tips.
One onion, one carrot, diced up nice,
Two celery stalks, and garlic cloves thrice.
One pound of beef mince, or lentils instead,
Both hearty choices, to keep you well-fed.
Heat the oil in a pan, bacon or mushrooms to fry,
Golden and crisp, or soft, it’s time to say hi.
In go the veggies, soften them well,
Garlic joins in, with its fragrant spell.
Add the beef mince, or lentils, brown them all around,
Tomato purée, two tablespoons found.
Two cans of tomatoes, chopped and sweet,
A teaspoon of honey or maple syrup, to make it complete.
Preheat your oven, two hundred degrees,
Fan or gas six, whichever you please.
Layer the ragu, then pasta sheets,
Repeat the process, until it’s complete.
Crème fraîche, one cup, mixed with water, half a cup,
Or cashew cream for vegans, to fill your cup.
Mozzarella, two cups, and Parmesan, one cup,
Or vegan cheese and nutritional yeast, to top it up.
Bake for thirty minutes, till golden and bubbling,
Serve with fresh basil, it’s oh so humbling.
Enjoy your lasagna, a dish so divine,
Perfectly layered, every single time.
by Wayne Wysocki
If you want to call me vegan,
I'll not fight with you,
although the statement's not quite true
It's not exactly wrong either
It's true I don't eat meat, or eggs, or anything with wings or legs,
but in way of a confession, you might find in my possession
a leather belt or shoes,
which for a vegan is bad news
I don't really mean to quibble, concerning what I nibble,
but I'm trying here to say in this convoluted way
that for a vegan it's all about the animals
I'm not in it for the animals, but rather for my health and for the planet
I surely won't deny it -- I eat a vegan diet,
and to some degree I care what fellow creatures have to bear,
and resulting from my wishin' for optimal nutrition
they benefit from my selfish choice to not consume them
But in the end you have to see that I eat this way for me
I don't deserve the noble label, but when I'm sitting at your table,
if you want to call me vegan,
then I'll not disagree.
This is my story about Menudo, and not the boy band Menudo
Mexican Menudo soup, known as the breakfast of champions
It’s what borracho’s, and Ricky Martin and all el mundo saludo
Chili mix, cilantro and lemon or lime, oregano, served in ramekins
A hearty feel good spicy tripe soup, honeycombed and hominy
Intestines of a cow, the stomach lining, an endearing word pancita
Who says culinary is always flattering, for it is part of the anatomy
Soup a Mexican woman slaves over, we’re grateful kind senorita
If you grew up with it, whether an acquired taste—it’s the bomb
The atmosphere is what you look forward to on every Sunday
With your familia, and then occasionally Ce Ce’s “friend” Tom
Most of the family erm, drink excessively all night long and stay
Menudo has healing powers, cures hangovers and homesickness
Save lemon for Tecate, after this concoction you won’t regret
Beliefs ring true, this broth is good for you, good for any illness
True, your uncles and older cousins will be dripping in sweat,
It’s spicy blends of seasoning flows through the blood stream,
And that’s why it is topped off with a bottle of chilled Corona
While discussing last night’s behavior, debating it was a dream
Teasing the little ones, and embarrassing they’re sister Mona
Extra lime, and beer for cooling down, served up in ramekins
Menudo, it’s the soup they call the breakfast of champions
Hangovers have come and gone, and we tend to eat less meat
My favorite recipe substitute’s tripe for Oyster Mushrooms
Tasty Menudo I made in many vegan styles, no one can beat
Chopped for texture and spiced up, the unique flavors of legumes
Successful accomplished and asombroso, serve in a bowl and heat
Progress flows like a river of light through time,
transforming the old man into a shadow of smoke,
a titan of sinew fading into the mist of memory,
replaced by an avatar of contemporary gentleness.
This one, sculpted from new desires and norms,
carries the days like a dream of vegan colors,
where meat is just a myth told by extinguished fires,
and wine, a relic of victories from long ago.
He, who neither smokes nor drinks, yet infuses his soul
with essences that seduce his senses in a dance of change,
in a world where ecology becomes a green religion,
and dogs are companions through the gardens of eternity.
Progress sings to a society that hides its shadows
beneath the mask of the blue light of vibrating screens,
sublimating evil into electric-hearted benefits,
where civilization is born from glandular dreams.
In this world, every person is an island of dreams,
a pawn on the board of a game with changing rules,
where progress is a new garment for old desires,
and the flow of consciousness is a wave of carried melancholy.
And signifying nothing, upon life’s stage
meaningless, endless, a cruel war he waged
Fretting and strutting, as the curtains narrowed
Out, out, foul vegan, who doth hate man’s marrow
Comes back for encore, to be mocked, and broken
Having found mere hate, vaunting the unspoken
A shadowless ghoul behind faint shrills of woe
Sans a candle, roams hell’s abattoirs below
A dedication of respect on the
nihilistic tragedy of Macbeth
# # #
Bastardised here indeed
but more so each day by
a bard who flunked all meaning in life
# # #
Yet has somehow found faith
in putrid flesh eating flowers
# #
No doubt whilst searching for a niche
on the last syllable of soybean @urd
By
David Kavanagh
This is a terrible time of year for Turkeys
How many innocent lives are going to be lost?
All their friends and relations are in for the chop
No turkey is spared; their fate is sealed
Killed and then cooked in kitchens all over the US
So people can enjoy a traditional festive feast
Go vegetarian or vegan and spare these poor birds-
I understand nut roast is a very tasty alternative
Voting turkeys would ban thanksgiving if they could
I imagine they must dread this time of year!
Now, let me be serious… I hope you all have a wonderful time
Get together with family and friends and celebrate your special day
11-22-17
My driveway is packed with the cars
of friends and family,
chips put out, and the little ones
are running joyously.
A cooler filled up with bag ice
keeps cold soda and beer,
I think half the folks I know
were able to get here.
I stand over a charcoal grill,
today it is my thing,
propane may work in a pinch,
but briquettes remain king
Coals seer some discount longhorn steaks,
bought from a friend of mine,
will turn the meat ninety degrees,
get perfect grill-mark lines.
My vegan niece sits not far off,
always looks thin and ill,
ready to tell everybody:
“It’s not okay to kill!”
As if the plants she likes to eat
didn’t go to their death,
some day she might see how it is,
but she ain’t got there yet.
The youngsters go high on the swings,
I hear metal chains squeak,
one even gets up far enough
to brush against some leaves.
Every few moments one flies off,
and lands half-stumbling,
turns back to his cousins and cries:
“That jump was amazing!”
The older kids are further back,
shagging some fly-balls down,
they mix it up with fast bouncers,
racing across the ground.
Inside men sit and watch the game,
share opinions on sports,
each convinced they know the deal,
which players to exhort.
Not a word of work goes around,
and to me that’s just fine,
Boss-man gets five days of the week,
but these two? They are mine.
Wives and sisters sit on the deck,
indulging in girl-talk,
it may be a stereotype,
but lordy, how they squawk.
Then again, maybe it’s just me,
the introverted type,
gossiping in a big circle,
not something I would like…
Take off the ones medium rare,
three more minutes—well done,
plate them up, then give a shout:
“The steak’s on, everyone!”
Primordial Soup
In the cosmos kitchen of distant past,
When first thoughts of life's creation were cast,
A unique recipe, made its debut,
'Primordial soup', life's creation brew.
Take 6 cups of seawater from seashore head,
Where precursor molecules are purebred,
With carbon atoms, molecules galore,
With hydrogen, oxygen, many more.
Add a sprinkle of salt, make a strong brine,
Which becomes life's spark conductor benign.
Now comes the tricky part, nature's assault,
To get a living being, fused, gestalt.
Set the brew aside to foment and age.
It won't ferment, there's no life at this stage.
Wait for the thunder clouds to roll on in,
With lightning flashes blasting to break-in.
Add a long cast-iron wand to the pot.
Place it outside in a clear exposed spot.
Stand well clear, be patient, wait for the bolt,
To hit the pot, making life with a jolt!
With a bit of good luck and fate combined,
Your precursor chemical mix maligned,
Will become magic primordial soup,
destined to seed entire planets with life.
Your soup is infinitely expandable,
With all sorts of tasty things edible.
For life creates its own ingredients,
Limited only by your expedients!
You name it, vegan, keto, carnivore.
Chock full of all living things you adore!
My heart is beating so fast I can not
say for sure
If it may not at any moment go into
cardiac arrest and explode out my
chest cavity
And my hands are so sweaty its like
they are raining confetti at a vegan
wedding
In the hope you will submit cease to resist
and eventually say yes
To my simple request to take you out
on a date
Because at the end of the day I am
just a boy who is terminally shy and
dead coy
Putting both myself and my heart on
the line
Internally hoping and praying you will
see through my imperfections and outwardly
displayed insecurity flaws
So as to offer me a chance to enhance my
confidence and enable you to see me for
all that I can be rather than what I am not
Because there is only a certain amount of
rejections a person can take before they
finally run out of hope and eventually give up
Trying already knowing the outcome and
answer before asking the actual question
So for the umpteenth and probably last
time fingers crossed
Wish me luck this is the 1 who will agree
and kindly say yes
To going out with little old me
And if she does I'll be sure to let you know
How it goes