Altho' I'm a common or garden potato
a lighter shade of brown
and you're a turnip who
just my luck fell off the truck
on the ride from the other side of town
I only have eyes for you
but when the chips are down
a brussel sprout I can do without
as for lettuce you may forget us
onion always makes me cry
“Goodbye radish” or so say I
garlic is all very well but not the smell
to the pepper bell a fond farewell
yet the root of the problem
is indeed you see
while I think you're the top of the crop
you don't care a swede for me
Across delicate veins of onion skin,
rivers of water begin to gently flow
in subtle shades of Aquarius blues
and seaweed greens, unseen beneath
the ebbing waves traversing a salty sea
Crashing against rock hued cliffs,
their splashes are created by nature.
Unlike the tides of onion skin paper ~
where the scene is guided by the tilt
of a hand that is never in command
It's never guaranteed to be distinct ~
as a mountain top with crests of snow,
or a lake where ripples waiver in the sun
nor granite fallen from a cliff's ledge
On sheafs, watercolors ripple over aqua seas,
forty fluid fathoms from shallow to deep
where boulders have been etched in time
in layered hues of russet from cliffs of stone
older than myths on poetry’s parchment pages.
There's a vision found in abstract art,
never identical to humans with keen eyes,
but when blended with the touch of a wet brush
and the onion skin whispers, "What do you see"
I walk away, accepting water's final thought...
"I choose not to breach a dam"
you'll cry me an onion
i didn't mean to upset you so ~
multiple layers shed endless tears
AP: 2nd place 2025
With coriander cumin turmeric
basmati rice saffron and spice
onions chilli peppers
and all things nice
with chapati and chutney
a samosa or two
naan for starters
rogan josh vindaloo
not eye-watering
yet tasty is best
tandoori tikka masala
korma's a meal with zest
chicken lamb chickpeas or lentils
a dinner for two you do not hurry
allow what you've got to simmer in the pot
for a winner Indian curry
but if I were you whatever you do
don't put Scotch bonnet on it
Ollie onion had never been this mad in his life
He turned all his anger on the kitchen knife
How dare you try to peel me, you interloper, he said.
The knife was embarrassed, his face turned red.
I did not know that you were alive, he admitted.
No one told me this, I am confused, he spitted.
Ollie was not in the forgiving mood at all.
He sent that knife packing, down the hall.
A colleague once gave me, on paper,
A recipe written by hand
For Passover rolls
And one of her goals
Was for choices I’d make to expand.
Though they can’t substitute for a bagel
Or some sourdough or seeded rye,
For the holiday week
When some bread I might seek,
They’re a stand-in on which I rely.
When I make them, I’m thinking of Mildred,
Though I’m certain that she is long gone,
But when I form the dough
Into roll shapes, I know
That her spirit I’m carrying on.
Satire is a tricky thing
And won’t appeal to half
Of its potential readers,
But the other half will laugh.
The Onion is satirical
And I’m, for sure, a fan,
For it pokes fun of politics
(At least, while it still can).
Like other periodicals,
It focuses on news,
With weddings, deaths and real estate
Attracting many views.
There also is a horoscope
And lots of ads as well,
But none of it is serious,
Which anyone can tell.
It always cracks me up; at times
It makes me laugh out loud,
The humor, though, intended
For a real specific crowd.
I recommend a reading
But I would advise you that
You may not be so enamored
If you sport a MAGA hat.
People love at first sight
Friends love me for my first dish
With my shrimp spring onion roll
This consists of medium-sized shrimps
Bacon, beans, ham, egg, cilantro, basil
And lastly it must be onion
Mix and wrap in a Shanghai roll
Deep fry till look brown and taken easy
Serve a bowl right away freely on the table
People are heartless when it's favorite
The dish is taken easy with a smile
Only gone swiftly not more than just few minutes.
For if my heart
Were such as this
With taste and tears
On every kiss
It could explain
Each reason why
The love lorne layers
Do testify
To pungent faith
Flavoursome hope
Formed in the dark
With potent scope
To underpin
The panoply
Of every tasty
Recipe
Strong coffee and
onion soup are what
I need on this grey
December day with
an overcast sky
and a mix of rain
and sleet lacking
the joie de vivre
of either.
Soup bowls and mugs come in all sizes
Onions swimming in broth with wonderful spices
Under the melted cheese is the crusty bread
Please, more before I go to bed
I first ordered French Onion Soup
while dating a new girl I’d met
I did this to seem worldly-wise;
This is something I wouldn’t advise;
It’s a soup that plays hard to get!
It arrived and threw me a loop;
For a start, it’s covered in bread
sealed with some hot molten cheese.
I stared long and thought, holy-jeez
then picked up a spoon with some dread.
I felt like a big nincompoop;
I stabbed at the cheese, on it’s raft
which made its escape from the bowl;
flew totally out of control
like some sort of alien craft.
I honestly tried to regroup
with the girl, with cheese on her lap
who, by then, was sobbing away;
I said, “Would you like some sorbet?”
She quietly called me a sap!
I, naughtily, peeled and peeled you to find the truth within,
You have, dear, taught me the philosophy of nothingness;
Each of your petals, like magical herbs, tickles my skin,
Each leaf, as a united nation, enwraps your thickness...!
In you is fulfilled the Buddhist concept of Nirvana,
You are accused of arousing sensuality too;
The Israelites, in each step, seeking flora and fauna,
The Bible says each one missed you, restlessness in them grew...!
One who wishes to kiss one's spouse should not eat you, they say,
Each dish of each little home, yet, dear, you make delicious:
Antioxidants, Blood Sugar, and the Digestive way,
Symbol of protection, memories... you are auspicious...!
Peel yourself selflessly... this is what every onion says,
Resurrection means crucifixion too in humbler ways...!!!
An onion had it's day in court.
It sliced and diced a false report.
Now when this onion starts to speak,
it's oozing mold begins to leak.
This onion's spoiled, so bruised and brown.
No other onion wants him around..
In prepping for a funeral
The family gathered in the hall
They sat there all mourning
Even though it was nightfall
He had eaten lots of vegetables
Yet, he passed on in his suite
Must have still had too much sugar
And not enough heart beets
A farmer by trade, he grew
Not just beets but onions too
When he passed, they cut his crops
And cried all the way through
They made his favorite cheese as well
A batch to honor him that day
His athlete niece, age nineteen, fell
Now there’s pro teen in the whey
Onions served at the will reading
One son got more than his share
“Yes, I see”, said the executor
I can smell it in the heir
“Woof” exclaimed his trusty dog
“This situation is certainly tough.
Although I’m sad about my human
These jokes were pretty ruff…..”
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