Mutton Poems | Examples

Premium Member Carnage Voyeurs

   Mother Nature makes little piglets and lambs
      We humans slaughter them for mutton and ham 

   Lest you think mankind unusually cruel
      Ponder what lions and tigers do for their fuel

And then?

Then? What then?

What about the 
Bare legs 
Seeking address 

Wait. Be a snail.
Then the hours 
Began undressing 

And then?

Wait.
No unleashed 
Impulses.

The earth tilts 
Towards the sun 
Here in India

Dusk thickens 
In California 
Legs in line 
Mostly bare
For the dancing hall 
Sea and seagulls
Some vultures too
Mingled with the 
Moneylenders 
Waves and wavelets 
Tipsy and tottering 
Hard orange pieces 
In pursuit of 
soft ones 
Twilight in the bottle 
Exuberance in deluge 

Here the legs
And hands 
Raise the curtain 
Bread and butter 
Poetry and Mathematics 
Computers and 
Greenfields 
Fish and mutton 

Then? And then?
Then? What then?

Mr Pijin

Mono Aluminum Pijin they called him. A rascal and a sailor. He buys beef jerky by the bucket. He shaved his beard with a hand carved whale bone. They roll the flanks of mutton in braided lamb chitterlings, and roast them fair and square. The sauce is sweet nuff for dipping. As He crosses his legs to raise his pinky in the air. Far to perfect is the evening, might a woman wish to dance.  She'd be greasy if she lean on me, cause I wiped the grease on my pants.


Mr Pijin

Mono Aluminum Pijin they called him. A rascal and a sailor. He buys beef jerky by the bucket. He shaved his beard with a hand carved whale bone. They roll the flanks of mutton in braided lamb chitterlings, and roast them fair and square. The sauce is sweet nuff for dipping. As He crosses his legs to raise his pinky in the air. Far to perfect is the evening, might a woman wish to dance.  She'd be greasy if she lean on me, cause I wiped the grease on my pants.

Premium Member Biryani

Blended spices mixed and
      boiled with chicken and rice, 
Best with mutton or prawns, 
      but tastes good even with
basic fresh vegetables! 
      Blast of flavoured richness! 
Bewitching special treat!

Premium Member Blue

There once was a puppy named blue
Who demolished his master’s good shoe?
So they gave him a bone
With some mutton left on
And now he has something to chew


Premium Member HAUNTED HOUSE

     Far from city in haunted house 
    lived Macro mouse and Micro mouse.
    Macro fond of Micro : His spouse.
    Also stayed with them little louse.
     
    From roof crawling down octopus.
     Swooping the vulture valorous.
     Horrifying notorious.
     Me at nook frightened, oblivious.

     Wicked weird witch is cunning most, 
     sitting with her friend scary ghost.
       relishing rotten mutton roast 
       and charcoal burnt hard butter toast.

      Shedding tears violent viper.
      turning hysteric and hyper.
      Suddenly jumped champion jumper :
       Owner of the house : large vampire.

Premium Member They Are Eating The Dogs

They are eating the dogs
They are eating the cats
They are eating the pets
They are eating the wild hogs.

In the early 20th “c”, Germans used to eat blockade mutton
That’s absolute truth. It’s a shame that this felon
Is desperate and going wild. The dude is a pathological liar
Who will do anything. He’s a tremendous cheater.

Immigrants do not eat the pets
Especially Haitians who love chickens
Tassot or griot meats, black rice and beans.

Haitians love Soup Joumou with lots of carrots
Haitians enjoy one of the best cuisines on the planet
Liar, liar, nobody is perfect. That’s correct.

Copyright © October 2024, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of numerous collections of poetry.

Premium Member YESTERDAY a refrain

Toasted teacakes,parmesan cheese
Croquetted chicken,fricasees;
Apple dumplings,yogurt creamed
Welsh mutton,in pudding,steamed.

Baked Alaska,Banbury cake
Lyons ices with  Cadbury flake;
Gorganzola buttered roll
Side salad oil drizzled,in a bowl.

Melba meringue,warm mince pies
Filet mignon,mushrooms and fries;
Sunday roast in dripping jelly
Onions and peppered tripe belly.

Trout poached,not microwaved
Slowly cooked,and no time saved;
Thick fishstock,bouillabaissed
Beefsteak so lightly braised.

Hash browns,sausage,gravy and mash
Casseroled stew or goulash;
Poached,simmered maybe pressure cooked
Tempting meals from Granma's book.

When Sheep Play Poker

"A straight!  Two-three, five-six and eight,"
but Mildred bleated, "Ain't no straight;
you, Alice-ewe, are one dumb rump."
Bright chortles burbled round the stump
till Jingles raised, "Two straws of hay,"
too rich for Fay-Fay: "I can't play,
though, know that ram hauled in by truck?
I thought he gave me … lotsa luck!"
Suzette guffawed, "Not luck you meant."
"Perv, pigsty's where your mind has went!"
"Well, we all know why he's brung here …"
"Too bad it's only once a year." 
"Who poofed?" sneered Molly, "That's so crass!
Wow, someone dined on rancid grass …"
Embarrassed Mildred urged, "Just play,
let's brighten up this gloomy day."
Belle brooded, "Yeah, dawn brings the shears …"
"Well you look cute, nude tail to ears."
"And your sagged udder shows you're old!"
Tense silence fell--that barb was bold--
but Alice, heedless, claimed, "Two pair!"
which drew the wrath of Mildred's stare:
"Two fives, a two with ten on top?
You're one stupid mutton chop …"

Insomnia

     I'm wide awake and cannot sleep,
     That's when I started counting sheep.
     I began, with ten little lambs,
     And then with two, headbutting rams.
     Then three that graze the Vicar's lawn,
     And twenty more, the sheepshearer's shorn.
     While thirty from, down in the Glen,
     Where the sheepdog guards them, in the pen.
     And four called mutton, although not old,
     Alongside six, safe in the fold.
     Now I am feeling, rather sheepish,
     Roast lamb, is my favourite meat dish.
     So now I will count, something quite odd,
     It's easier counting, peas in a pod.

SHEEPSHAPE

SHEEPSHAPE

If not a ram then a sheep is a ewe
White and woolly, docile it’s true

One of many, as part of a herd
Clustered together, as preferred

Various strains are kept and bred
Unless taken for mutton instead

But there are several sheep breeds
Enough to fulfil lamb eaters’ needs

Sheep so unwanted in the wild west
They ate grass that made beef best

But lambs are cutest, as we know
Gamboling around, white as snow

So cuddly, and quite nice to hold
But not so much when they’re old

Wool is a raw material for clothes
Soft and fluffy as everyone knows

But wool can be spun into big balls
Remaining unsold until knitting calls

In Greece, sheep’s milk fares better
As there it is used for making Feta

One can even hear sheep from afar
But not so loud as to raise the baa

Premium Member Why Antarctica

Mrs. Crow Mutton has a mission – the Antarctica or bust.
We were shocked when she ordered boots in red rust.
She ordered a down winter coat with a print on it too.
And a patterned knitted cap created by my Auntie Lou.

Why Antarctica? We asked her, for we wanted to know.
Because Michigan has never had enough sparkly snow.
And I love seeing my breath float out of my beak.
We saw her flying home to Ann Arbor the very next week.

I broke my own heart

Burger King’s and KFC’s
Large kebabs topped off with cheese
Too many beers slip down with ease
A Double Whopper, no salad please

Pile on the pounds, put on the weight
That greasy fry tasted just great
Eat it all, let’s clear the plate
Another bar of chocolate

Living it large on the cardiac ward
The doctors have, my heart explored
Lying here on a hospital cart
Would you believe, I broke my own heart

Fresh cream buns, so nice to eat
The icing sugar tastes so sweet
Scoff the lot and then repeat
A McDonald’s meal, a late night treat

Living it large on the cardiac ward
The doctors have, my heart explored
Lying here on a hospital cart
Would you believe, I broke my own heart

Taking a walk, an alien activity
Go to the gym? To much productivity
Lazing around is joyous proclivity
All hail the God of inactivity

And now I regret being such a glutton
I should have refused that last plate of mutton
Wishing there was a reset button
For a life of chips and beer and bacon

Living it large on the cardiac ward
The doctors have, my heart explored
Lying here on a hospital cart
Would you believe, I broke my own heart

Premium Member CHITLIN CIRCUIT-

In my feelings I’m fillings
In my splitting placement settings
Intentional pig intestines

I LAMB COVING MY LINKAGE
My beef is forced anger
So goose my way through life passages go figure
I goat what I eat what I ate aspirate danger
My by product waste excrement, temperament
 Cleanse out covered wrinkle tribe 
Neither lamb fry nor black pot 

In my feelings I’m fillings
In my splitting placement settings
Intentional pig intestines
Spiritual and Physical


~

Left over thrown away chitterling
Skins of mine intestines
Mutton never tasted spiritual under taking
I’ve been bomb basin
A jointed of veal provide
How we feel been denied
Speaks of feces yum turn inside out

In my feelings I’m fillings
In my splitting placement settings
Intentional pig intestines
Physical and Spiritual

11/12/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©

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