Short Dinnertime Poems

A gather of hands
A feasting at dinnertime
Hear the sounds of smiles...

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Cinquain,
Five twenty two,
Time to prepare dinner,
Hearty feast of poetic verse,
Enjoy!...

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She couldn't loose the noose
  of his madman's grip

As she clutched his last
  ~ potato chip...

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At dinnertime
Dad made clear,
You eat to live
Not live to eat,
Little knowing
He was quoting
From Moliere....

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renard slyly skulks
in the leafy undergrowth
success… dinnertime!

Renard - traditional french word for fox

27th May 2015...

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Sure love eating, can't wait for dinnertime
In my psyche, eating food is deeply enshrined
Trying to eat less
Difficult at best
Just fading away in my fairy-like mind...

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GLUTTONY

We hunger for the salted tales 
of bland and spiceless lives
We gorge ourselves on tasteless news 
as soon as it arrives
We savor cuts of bigotry 
then stuff ourselves with hate
While grinding on the rumor mill 
that seasons up our plate...

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Throw around legs
Throwaway hair
Biting her tongue
Tapping the chair

Dinnertime psychology
Filling her frayed mind
Undigested memories 
Too bitter to be confined

Eighteen years 
Blurred as if one
Opaque footsteps
Of a misbegotten son

“Dessert, mom?”
“No thanks, dear.”
Her plate is empty
Her conscience clear...

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My husband likes to cook and that’s
A lucky thing for me
For I am the recipient
Of his gastronomy.

He hardly tastes what he prepares.
His culinary skills
Are aimed to please my palate;
It’s my belly that he fills.

Like Jack Sprat and his wife, we are,
Without the fat and lean. 
He cooks, I eat, he clears, I wash – 
Our dinnertime routine....

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Weather looked upon not contemplating
Shores forgot, wisped away to beaches anew
This place that place, sea of blue
Set close not too far
voices in the wind here we are
Rods set tall and straight here it is 
we will wait
Lines tightened, rods a bent
fresh bait with old scent
Slicks rolling in crests of waves
Just beyond a bubbling fish raves
Set the hook reel the line
Buddies of fish it's dinnertime...

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I’m thinking about thinking about retiring
     Not sure when that will be
I know I need to make a change
     I’ll do it soon, you’ll see

I’m thinking about thinking about moving
     To a warm place by the sea
Guess I’ll do that another day
     It’s dinnertime for me

I’m thinking about thinking about everything
     That I have to do
I suppose that I could start right now
     But…I’m off to the zoo...

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Hurry with their groceries.
Don't wait till I am overseas.
I'm asking where's the bagger.
If I do it I will stagger.

Why are the lanes so empty?
The people are of plenty.
Where are all the checkers?
You're a bunch of home wreckers.

I was due home two hours ago.
Why are they going oh so slow?
It's past my dinnertime.
It's supposed to be my dime.

My shoes are hurting my toes.
It's the day of waiting woes....

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Those small drug holders!
They have numbers on them.
They reminded you when to take four pills:
one at breakfast time,
one at lunchtime,
one at dinnertime,
one when it's the hour for bed.

Those small drug holders!
Are those numbers fading?
They try to remind you what the time is,
when to have some breakfast,
when to eat your lunch,
when to consume some dinner,
when the hour for bed has arrived.

(11 Dec 2023)
...

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I shall write of bygone days
Old memories, old-fashioned times
Of strange and primitive ways,
Simple tunes and easy rhymes.
When poems were read out loud
To entertain family and friends,
Prayers were said with heads bowed
To each his own business attends.
While life flowed steadily onward
And chaotic noises were eschewed,
At all costs everyone avoided discord
And dinnertime was a day reviewed.

written November 28, 2021...

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People are crying, children are dying
People surround and the baby is crying.
Blow your mind it's dinnertime
sit around and watch the world go by
Blow your mind it's dinnertime
why do we sit and watch the world die?
Children are starving, armies bombarding
Countries blown up and the president's starring.
Blow your mind it's dinnertime
sit around and watch the world go by.
Blow your mind it's dinnertime
sit around and watch the world die....

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I crept cautiously down the stairs, I looked at my watch, it was almost 6:30, dinnertime. My heart began to beat quickly, my chest filled with dread. I tiptoed to my place at the table. I kept my eyes down, looking at my hands, not saying a word. My dad entered the dining room; he sat down hard in his chair, his battle face on. My mother slammed a pot of food on the table, daggers in her eyes directed at dad. In some home meal times are called dinner; in my home it means war....

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There was a time not long ago,
that I would work an eight hour day.
At job’s release, I’d come back home
and start our dinner right away.

Those years now past, my hungry man
was waiting for his evening meal.
He’d sniff around and lift hot lids,
not waiting for the big reveal.

Alone now, dinnertime can wait,
so I head first for easy chair.
With a fat cat upon my lap,
I simply am relaxing there.

An easy chair, a purring cat,
One can’t get more chilled out than that....

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