Short Chips Poems
Short Chips Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Chips by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Chips by length and keyword.
i had lunch
we eatin a bunch
some time we munch
when money is low
this the way to go
so we dip
needs no tips
just buy
SODA AND CHIPS
i love to walk
and talk
get my start
at the parks
as we go
waliking slow
i get the munch
its my lunch
love cream dips
i buy
a
SODA AND CHIPS
Form:
when it hot
i sweat a lot
can't eat food
bu t i do go where its cool
and listen and play the blues
some time pop a whip
eat beet steer
eat
CHIPS AND DRINK
Fish and Chips
Swimming in a sea of ketchup and vinegar
By Jan Allison
Contest Food and our memory connections
Sponsor Andrea Dietrich
11~06~15
Ate at a fish and chips restaurant today
Love fish and chips could eat 'em every day
Only problem is
I get a scaly blemish
Must keep tiny hook-shaped thingies at bay
Oh, What A Piddily Day
I Whittled It Away
On Some Unnecessary Chips
On My Shoulders
& In My Dips ...
Written & Copyrighted ©: 9/12/2013
by: MoonBee Canady
When Jesus stopped in for a bite,
The barkeep near fell out with fright:
“I’ve got some goat cheese,
But no fish and chips, please!
Last time, that was it for the night!”
The Angry Little Chipmunk spotted his prey...
He moved into position, ready to Pounce!
But a Rabid Squirrel, took his nuts for a whirl...
No Way! Each day I'm getting thinner by the Ounce!
We used to travel to the beach,
Fish and chip shops in our reach,
Fish so fresh and flaking,
Fanta orange our thirst slaking,
In newspaper, chips were wrapped,
Bayside trips, us kids were rapt!
Azzure night calls
rush blurry eyes
Pigeons came a calling
Waterloo I curse you
morning came a sneaking
The unaccustomed scratch gilded fear
Suited clad
screeches the acceptable
Strange exiles disowns the Thames
I eat a piece of fudge
it lands on my hips
great
I devour a potato chip
she travels to one of my tummy rolls
I see her happily settling down
I slurp down biscuits and gravy
Feel my butt get fluffy and puffy
starting to look frightful
A model enjoyed eating french fries
they began adding bulk to her thighs
As each chip passed her lips
Weight soon piled on her hips
Once skinny, she became a plus size
(In the UK fries are also known as chips)
8/5/18
What is it about Sunday night
that the universe just can't get right
Sunday days, often serene
Monday morns, fueled by caffeine
But Sunday nights, phlegmatic and placid
as if all of creation just went flaccid
I guess I might as well cash in my chips
and ride out this night's eternal eclipse
Crispy, crunchy, baked to perfection.
Sparkling, golden, a mouth-watering complexion.
That feeling of joy sparks through your soul,
As you reach into the overflowing bowl.
Your taste buds are totally astound,
As you bite on the chip, so perfectly round.
Lightly salted and thinly chopped,
Baked and flaked and cropped and popped.
Did you hear in the news? Yes, it’s true!
A police officer knew what to do.
A stabbed man with a wound
Could have died very soon
But didn’t when saved with a bag - Whew!
An emptied bag of chips and some tape
Used before it became too late.
The cop stopped a life mess
And taped the bag to the man's chest
Which saved the man’s life and fate.
My mom left me home alone
With nothing there to eat
So I took the bag of Lays Potato Chips
And decided to take a seat.
I wasn't too hungry,
I had just eaten cake
But this was an opportunity
I had to take.
I ate until my stomach hurt.
Everything grew tight, including my shirt.
The bag was empty, finally
But there was something wrong
I was still hungry!
J-ust let the chips fall where they may,
O-n the twenty-sixth of September;
A-llow the sun to share
N-othing but a fine weather.
B-egin to speak no lies,
E-vade the deceitful tricks;
R-efrain from proclaiming
C-hunks of evil tactics.
A-im to be just and fair,
S-how the light of the day;
I-t's time to tell the truth,
O-r let the chips fall where they may.
and bombs fall on rusted iron ships
and set them ablaze with a terrible fury
the primal sparks flicker in the cold night sky
ships burn and ships burn and ships burn and burn
and bombs fall on faded concrete walls
and set them ablaze with fierce might
the dust dances in the vibrabt flames
cities burn and cities burn and cities burn and burn
we all one day will burn
This song is for my daddy,
My father, the man who tries
To guide me through this crazy world
With all its twists and turns and lies.
He comes to see me when he can,
No matter rain or wind or storm,
We sit and eat our salty chips
And talk about the things we've learned.
Our bond is simple, yet so true,
Based on laughter, love, and chips,
I'm grateful every single day
For my dear old dad, and all he gives.
Poets say that Love is everything
Artists give it much but just a start
Convinced hearts like paintings
Forever in progress I sense having
Dabbled also in studios of romantic
Art --
A brush stoke here, a warmth
Of color, unsigned for Love’s
Playful compositions when true
Never entirely done –
The poet writes, the artist shows
His voice charms, Her canvas glows
Everything lost, everything won
No greater wager than chips of love --
When the chips are down
Men are separated from boys
Quitters fall by the way side
While perennial winners
Seize the day and be counted
For that is the essence of life
Life is a live show
It is for a short season
It is time to show the stuff
One is made of
And bow out as the ovation
Reaches its crescendo
Life is for the living
Take it one day at a time
Everyday as if it were the last
Cause the ultimate leveler
Strikes when you least expect it
A $6 Bag of Chips
A little boy of 9 or 10 said, "Want to buy some chips?" Stranger replied, "How much and for what purpose?" The little boy told him, but he quickly forgot and asked the kid if he could change a twenty. He said no, but ran to check with an older sister of 12 or 13. They returned with $14, and the stranger gave her the twenty. Nice kids, polite, well dressed. The generous stranger's heart wept as he drove away.
06022017PS Contest, 5 Line Max, Rick Parise, NA
He likes to wait until his lingering end,
sitting on the beach with fish and chips.
Often wonders what life is about.
Why is that boat there, that ship farther out, and yet another?
Will they still be there when he is not?
Will he still be here when they are gone?
How many chips and how much fish
will still be in this greaseproof paper?
Enough salt and vinegar here?
Or should he go for more?
Waiting for a lingering end
can be quite perplexing, even strange.
(4 Sep 2023)
The premise goes everyone knows
before entering the premises
while still outside yet on the mat
it's no gentleman who forgets
to doff his cap or remove his hat
if dining out or at a private party
for a particular person
it's impolite at most
to sip slurp or slink a drink
before the toast to a hospitable host
and when beside the table laden
confronted by the salsa bowl
biting then re-dipping chips
the most unmannerly of all
is he (or she) who double-dips