Norway
Norway is on my bucket list
blonde haired beauties I want to kiss
I must go to “Norwegian Wood”
everyone says I really should
but first I must land in Oslo
hope to watch the aurora glow
I will have to try some Rakfisk
that sounds much better than Lutefisk
Categories:
lutefisk, travel,
Form: Lay
While in the market place I’ll know from a mile
Where the assorted fish is sold, sliced or whole
Tuna, sardine or trout, all frozen tucked in ice pile
Fish smell drives away the essence from my soul.
The recipes of global repute people so much adore
Salmon rillette, tartine, lutefisk, sushi or even caviar
Make at sight my olfactory senses revolt and sore
I won’t eat these, not make gas within, turn cavalier.
If our tastes develop an avid aversion for fish ever
This aquatic species would swim cheerfully, I wish
My food would be full of pleasant vegetarian flavor
The smell of fishy gas would never float over my dish.
September 30, 2021
Contest : May The Gas Be With You Farts Part 2
Sponsor : Chantelle Anne Cooke
Categories:
lutefisk, fish, food, funny,
Form: Rhyme
MY BLUE CHEESE IS A FISHY AFFAIR
While in market place I would know from a mile
Where assorted fish is sold, nicely sliced or whole
Tuna, sardine or trout, all frozen tucked in ice pile
For the fish smell drives the essence out of my soul.
The recipes of global repute people so much adore
Salmon rillette, tartine, lutefisk, sushi or even caviar
Make at sight my olfactory senses revolt and sore
I won’t taste these to show I’ve become a cavalier.
If our tastes develop an avid aversion for fish ever
This aquatic species would swim cheerfully, I wish
My food would be full of pleasant vegetarian flavor
The smell of fish would never float over my dish.
January 8, 2018.
Categories:
lutefisk, fish, food,
Form: Rhyme
I am from milk buckets, from Target and Peanuts Cartoons.
I am from the ten-thousand beautiful lakes.
I am from the lily-pads, the cat-tails, sitting atop the water.
I am from late-night tv and small, poised feet,
From Grandma Shirley and Papa Smiley, and Abuelita.
I am from the loud booming laughter that echoes through the house
And screaming at the television when the Vikings play.
From “boys are caca” and “goodnight, my shining star.”
I am from Church on Sundays… Well, for the first couple of years.
I’m from kolache, pink cranberry fluff, and lutefisk. It tastes like it sounds.
From the time we laughed at mom for falling for the spoons game,
The frustration on her face,
And the time we laughed once again as she talked in her sleep.
I am from love.
I am from this ring on my finger.
Never removed.
Mom's ring.
Dad’s promise to love her.
A small, simple jewel on a lined golden wing.
Categories:
lutefisk, family, home, love,
Form: Free verse