Short Gastronomic Poems

Short Gastronomic Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Gastronomic by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Gastronomic by length and keyword.


Abstemious

Abstemious!
Be cooking.
Don’t eat from gastronomic hotels.
Insist jambalaya.
Kindly live maximally nutritious, opt pawpaw.
Quench.
Revitalize strength to undertake vital works XL,
Yields;  zeal.
Form: ABC


Premium Member Food Fusion

PORRIDGE PERFECTION
SOUP SATISFACTION
NOODLES KNITTED
MISU MARVEL
SALMON SMOKED
DEADLY DESSERTS
CARAMEL CRUNCH
TRIFLE TEMPTATION
CREPE CREATION
TASTE TITILLATION
ENHANCED EATING
GASTRONOMIC GLUTTONY

Premium Member I Will Not Participate

How many hot dogs should one ingest in order to be considered the best? The champion must eat many a tube steak. What a gastronomic risk he or she must take! With each frank must also be a bun. They keep eating until the contest is won. Inspired by another member's poem
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Apple Pie

What can I say about this dessert's originations? Countless recipes have been passed down through generations. Many consider it the All-American treat. Freshly-picked apples from the tree that are sweet; a flaky crust, some spice and sugar make it complete. Get a slice when it is fresh from the oven. Once you taste it, you have some gastronomic lovin'.
Form: Rhyme

Autobiographical Note 1

they are yours 
and mines;
the hard-boiled 
cookery of virtuous noise.
a polyphony wrapped 
in aluminum foil
on a tedious shelf
w/bits of mythic statuary,
petite reliquary 
of gastronomic demise,
and jars of jazz
sit motionless,
mummified 
in gifted dishes.
they are the cool 
epistemologies 
that gel I the mixing bowl of life 
that sudden slap
in the face of time 
and the subsequent freeze.
Form: Bio


Food

Sometimes cakes are upside down,
And brownies are not always brown.
A steak should not be made of wood,
And well done doesn’t mean it’s good.
Sometimes food is sweet and sour,
Petals are not found in flour.

It’s fair to say before they’re eaten
Spuds get mashed and eggs get beaten.
Sugar often gets dissolved,
But there’s no cruelty involved.
One gastronomic puzzle lingers,
What kind of fish is born with fingers?
© Rufus Reed  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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