Short Lunches Poems

dancing
winter sky
aurora borealis



posted on May 31, 2018...

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Fast food lunches
get set to answer
would you like fries with that?...

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Crayfish, insects, fish, aquatic plants too
Soft shell turtles in my day
Enjoy these things for lunch...

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in the midst of life-  
                             man mistakes devour lunches


For: Broken Monoku
Sponsored by: Brian Strand...

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Boy meets girl,
Girl meets boy.
Friendship begins to grow.
quick spread rumors
Of dates and lunches
Abound without ceasing
life is great....

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Power lunches, power ties
  Even power poses --
    Oh my, how they beguile

When all that life demands of us
    Is 'Service with a Smile'...

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word salad sandwiches,
poetry soup
forms a la mode,
doubly scooped

delectable morsels,
my lunches of late
with footle in mouth,
why don't I lose weight?...

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There once was a bully named Mean.
I am kidding, his name was McQueen.
He took classmates’ lunches,
And slapped them in bunches,
Until he was fined by the queen....

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I never knew that most monkeys will swoon
To eat bananas in a real saloon --
  They'll snarf down bunches
  After monster lunches --
Then vomit up the peels in the spittoon...

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To all who suffer from Delusions of Importance
I have strict diet – no moderation with Humble Pies;
Breakfasts, Lunches, Dinners; meanwhile
Don’t forget Snacks in between and multiple Desserts.
Thee Cured at the end; Disabused of Grandeur....

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I want to puke up my
nostalgia
and breathe in
different air.
 
I want to keep down
my small lunches
and take in lungfuls
of your hair.

I want to punch myself in the face
and cry myself to sleep.
I want to puke away my worries
and teach myself to breathe....

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BE QUIET
DON’T AWAKE MOM
SHE IS GONE 
A LONG TIME AGO

HER MEMORY WILL AWAKE IN YOU
MEMORIES 
OF A TIME 
OF YOUTH
OF CHILDREN AND GAMES
OF FUN, PARTIES 
AND SCHOOL LUNCHES
OF A TIME 
OF INNOCENCE AND LOVE
WITHOUT SHAME

OF A TIME

BE QUIET
DON’T AWAKE MOM
GO OUT AND PLAY
SHE WILL ALWAYS BE THERE...

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I’ve got two rods and reels
A bucket full of bait
I’ve got a lake nearby 
Just needing now a mate
We’ll have a shared great time
As we’re waiting for our bites
Just relaxing and a talking
Into the early night
So pack up your lunches
We leave before sunrise
The water there is calling
And so are fishermen skies...

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  The morning dawns 
  Thinking cap’s on
    Oh, the things you will do
    before this day is through…  

  The chimes strike noon
  It’s come so soon
    So much yet undone
    But lazy lunches are fun…

  The sun’s low in the sky
  Today’s about to say bye…
    The stars twinkle for free
    They see right through me
...

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Emma was the name of my best friend
Once long ago in grammar school.
We learned, played and ate together.
Even our lunches we would pool.

When school reopened in the fall,
I looked for her.  She wasn't there.
I knew nothing of schools rezoned
Or of adults who didn't care.

Nor how a beloved friendship could
Be sacrificed for common good....

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Divine days,
Blessings brave
Miracles mentioned
Houses happening
Friends featured
Relatives realistic,
Ready real,
Lunches lovely,
Celebrities caring,
Songs sang,
Guitars great,
Nights nice,
Visits various,
Ways worldly,
Conversations confidential,
Lifestyle luxurious,
Thankful thoughts,
Godly good.

Author: Gwen von Erlach Schutz...

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I met my son for lunch today,
An unexpected treat.
We both had time (quite rare for him)
So it made sense to meet.

We talked of this and that, a time
To simply socialize,
While munching on our lunches
And devouring our fries.

An air-conditioned haven
With my son was every way
A triple treat – a break from heat
And lunch; (he got to pay!)...

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A smell like lunches cooked by Gran -
oh, boy, my mouth will water still -
the veggies boiling in the pan
and roasted beef - I'd eat my fill,
and marvel at her skill.

Dessert was always clotted cream
on heaps of fruit she'd stewed;
It's wafting now...alas, but only in my dream,
recalling Gran's fantastic food,
and how she cooked for all the brood.

For Sara's 'Scent' contest...

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your eyes are not my eyes
your blood does not run though my veins
you made me angry and at times i despised you
you taught me math and share your lunches
even brought me birthday presents
i fought with you i yell at you
 maybe i even admired you 
your blood is not my blood 
your face is not my face
your love is my love 
and my love is your love 
in my heart is where i hold you
for you are father...

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A dirty old sidewalk
runs in front of grandma's house
with bumps and cracks from the roots
of ancient white-oak

Armed with cane poles and sack lunches
crickets and freshly dug earth worms
we meander down to the levee
barefoot in careless summers

One low spot beneath
a straggly Chinaberry
filled with pitch-black delta dirt
washed in by summer rains
We shuffle through and dig down
cooling our toes...

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Who are these women
Who sit here three times a year
Sipping their tea with pinkies extended?
Once it was five times a year.
Five lunches shared.
Five birthdays come and gone.
Now two have gone forever
And they were the most fun!
One had a laugh—childlike and contagious.
The other liked to dish the dirt and saw all the latest films.
No one talks about them much anymore.
But they did exist.
    I’m sure of it....

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food pyramids, the gustatory embrace of cow eating senators 
bucking their allies.
So maybe the consumption of steroid pesticides 
truncates our ambition to swiftly move. 
No matter, there's wheelchairs, elevators, and highways
 to support the ride. 
Its all hearsay but there's definitely 
a hidden hand in school lunches. 
Maybe ranting across the state assembly 
to get their balding hairdoes in check 
and write some worlds 
that will help us understand our appetites...

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They wear a cloak of invisibility
no one sees them
working behind the scenes
rearranging the scenery
inspecting the wires
from which hang
the future of daybreak
brown sugar atop the oatmeal
lunches and backpacks
hurried goodbyes
the school bus rendezvous.

No one sees them
as they ride the bus
enter through the service entrance
to work
supporting the backbone
of a country
that does not see them
for invisibility has no color.


John G. Lawless
©10/15/2021...

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