Food Prose Poetry Poems | Examples
These Food Prose Poetry poems are examples of Prose Poetry poems about Food. These are the best examples of Prose Poetry Food poems written by international poets.
I woke up inside a capsized boat.
What if I get cut on a coral reef?
What if I get stranded for four years like Tom Hanks?
What will I do for food, water, shelter, warmth?
Could I live without any company?
I stared at the moon.
At least I have her, I will name her Dolly.
We will have conversations.
I could write them down and become famous.
I hope I get stranded for at least two weeks I thought.
I could use the break from work.
“Ahoy!” someone called from a new boat. “Need help?”
I never did like old people
Still don’t
Which is why I never plan to be one.
I stayed in my art studio, painting up a storm
Got nine canvases almost finished
Began working on six more.
My husband took naps.
He is a professional nap-taker.
The dogs were thrilled to have us both home.
We sneaked them chicken and steak.
No one bothered us.
No one wanted to be entertained or begged for food.
Best Christmas ever,
and I do not have to un-decorate anything
or fix food, which I do not like to do
Seventy, still a kid.
my daddy loved corn meal mush
mommy didn’t, she had eaten too much of it
during the depression of the thirties
I watched him cook it
because I loved daddy
he gave me a taste
with butter and maple syrup
now I loved corn meal mush too
I can hardly ever find it
but I will never forget the sweet gritty taste
and how much my love for it tickled my daddy
Three times this week I have had biscuits and gravy.
They are fifteen hundred and two calories per plate.
I know because I do not make them.
I eat them in restaurants and they list these calories.
All three times this meal was super scrumptious.
I was not expecting them to be as good today.
For the menu listed them as 1402 calories.
At this rate, I should weigh six hundred pounds by Sunday.
arriving thirty two minutes early
opportunity to sit in the sun without apology
I observe people waddle in and out
this is a restaurant with unhealthy food
my favorite kind
I have written eight poems so far
my friend has fourteen minutes left
I could probably build a haunted house out of sugar packets
if I sat at a booth and waited
I choose to sit here in the sun
soaking up rays like a happy cat as I write
I try to pass the powdered donuts
They jump off the display
landing happily in my grocery cart.
I am next met by a shelf full of potato chips.
Lays – my favorite brand.
They throw themselves at my face.
I catch a bag in midair.
What kind of grocery store is this? I wonder.
Marie Callender’s lemon meringue pie laughs
and begins chasing after me.
Kraft Macaroni and Cheese and Chef Boy-Ar-Dee boxed pizza
If I had a dollar for every time I ate these two as a child
I could probably buy a desk, a computer, and a lava lamp
If it was not quite enough for all three, maybe I could buy a lava lamp
And beads to fit in my doorway, I do love that seventies look!
And a fake fur chair that yells my name in pink and orange
I would buy hip hugger bell bottoms if there is any extra money.
It is funny how certain foods take you right back to your childhood.
My husband and I cannot even look at a chicken pot pie.
When we were first married, we ate two chicken pot pies
And two frozen macaroni and cheese and half loaf of bread each
For the first two or three years, until our daughter could cook.
He took five times his limit of free provisions from the food bank.
Many of us watched without comment, because we know him.
He must have a lot of children! Someone said. There were snickers.
The old lady behind the counter gave them her eating snake face.
This guy was a giant, super huge. I know him too. He has a big heart.
He selflessly gives his talents and energies to those in need.
Many of us could have defended him.
But these people were heartless.
They might have become worse bullies, so we kept quiet.
Choosing to live with less drama, losing a bit of our own humanity.
By not speaking up, throwing away a bit of our integrity.
I felt torn later, wishing I had said something.
Dog came sniffing around
I already have five!
I cannot take you I told him as I fed him breakfast.
He stuck up his nose at dog food,
so I made him an omelet.
He picked out the ham and ate it.
Finally eating the eggy part, but gingerly.
He seemed disappointed.
I decided to keep him,
so I could figure out what else he needs.
We already have persnickety dogs here,
my muse told me in a nasty voice.
I ignored her as long as I could
which wasn’t that long…..
But now I am keeping him no matter what
even if he bites me in the leg or caboodles
on my good shoes.
No one tells me who to keep.
Today is going to be super easy for some
And yet incredibly difficult for others
Easy because it is the last day before winter break
Which used to be Christmas break, but now can’t be
Many teachers have brought food and are showing movies
The Polar Bear Express, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, etc.
Wait! That has Christmas in it. Maybe not that one.
Not legitimately.
It is also pajama day. The principal hates pajama day.
She has called in sick; I think it is because it is pajama day.
The kids are in the hallway with loud happy voices.
Anticipating their parties and movies.
Some of them will have a tough time today.
They depend on school to be structured.
It is the only structure they receive.
I feel sorry for them; freedom will be difficult for them.
We step over them on our way out of each room.
We step over them in the kitchen.
We step over them on the porch.
We step over them next to the couch.
Why don’t you tell them to move? A neighbor asks.
They don’t listen to us, I reply.
They are just like our children.
Except they eat dog food.
I am part werewolf part vampire
My vice is gluttony; I love to overeat
My werewolf side devours beef in a sloppy messy way
My vampire side does not want it fully cooked
I have an advantage over others
People cringe when I show my carnivore tendencies
Fearing my gnashing happy teeth
Some scream and run off; I love that!
I keep a storehouse of foods ready to eat.
Beef, chicken, steak, sausage, and other meats.
They are my go-to choices.
But I would not kick a great baked potato off my menu.
What about desserts you ask?
Werewolf likes moon pies, but my vampire side needs something red.
Red Jell-o, strawberry shortcake, cherry cobbler.
It is fun being a combination glutton
I am meeting my friends tonight
Do I remember where?
I do not
I know one will back out
She only eats outside
And it is a tsunami
One will not show up
She always says she will
But she never does
One will send her food back.
I know this because we are running out of restaurants
that will still take her
Things are going great no problems at all
My world is terrific, I feel glad for the day
The sun is shining, and I notice the birds
They dive in for a taste of the cat food
I smile at their daring
A sharp pain stabs me through my heart
It feels like someone has speared my back
There is an invisible boa constrictor around my chest
Is this how death is?
I keep quiet
A day later I am exhausted, can barely move
There is a cyst and it is oozing
What the heck? The birds are still here
But I no longer see them or care
It is all about me; and my health
which I take for granted when it is good
It is bad now, and I am irritated.
Cursing the world
Why me? Why me? Why me? Why me? Why me?
The birds fly off, sensing my rage.
We were in love, so food was not important
But we brought it any way, as a pretense
That we would be eating.
Laugh.
Our mothers contributed, because they cook
And bake, and do the mom stuff.
We ended up with two baskets.
Two teenagers with a basket each.
We tried to get away from the crowd
But it was a gorgeous seventy-three degree day.
Everyone was at the park. People came up from all directions.
The peril of living in a small town.
Strange children who knew us, came up and begged food.
We gave it to them. We had given up on any romantic gestures.
All the old people were walking around keeping an eye on us.
Making sure nothing good happened.