Last Commented Food Poems (148)

cambridge on a sunny morn
a professor deep in thought
a quasi quantum quandary
his mind now overwrought

now the kernel of dilemma
the cause of his unease?
with fish and chips for dinner..
should I go with mushy peas?

symbiotic clarity
coupled with his fate
yet the "mushyness" of peas
was abhorrent to his plate

order over chaos
his findings quite profound
yet a theorist
must work backwards
to a premis pure and sound

he expressed as a formula
elegant and wise
he wrote it on a post-it note
and sent it to the guys

twenty minutes later
his mobile broke the breeze
and a tired gruff glaswegian cried:
" I cannot read Chinese!"

I raised my own turkey one year,
to be part of our Yuletide fare,
he lived in the house like a pet,
and we spared no expense on his care.

When it came to the fateful day,
for the gathering to be fed,
it was with a heavy heart,
I took an axe and cut off his head.

Then, on the very next day,
half asleep in my favourite chair,
his spirit appeared right before me,
the turkey’s ghost on the stair.

And now every year at Christmas,
since through that bird’s neck I sliced,
my turkey comes back to haunt me,
in the form of a poultrygeist.

If "somedays" were sprinkles and cherry toppings,
And 'probably" was icing on cake,
Then I'd spend everyday just stuffing my face,
Gorging my worries away,
If "if's" and "but's" were candy and nuts,
And "maybe's" were peaches on cream,
If every "almost" was cinnamon toast,
Oh what a world it would be...

That was not a pie you gave me yesterday.
Call it shepherd’s or even cottage if you must.
But it wasn’t a pie, no matter what you say,
when the damned thing didn’t even have a crust.

And though my judgement might sound somewhat hasty,
I do not think I'm asking for a lot,
when I insist the filling be encased in pastry,
and yesterday it certainly was not!

A pie without a crusty pastry case
reminds me of a tortoise without its shell.
Its omission is an absolute disgrace.
I’m sure the tortoise would agree, as well.

So next time please do not dissatisfy,
just put a bloody crust around my pie!

To cook or not to cook -
That is the question
Whether ‘tis nobler
To toss fresh veggies in the pot
And simmer, boil or fry
Until they wilt and gradually die
Or to take arms
Against the savage slaughter
And serve them raw
And suffer indigestion

For who would bear
All that butchered food
The candy, cakes and crepes,
The rubber of cooked meat
On top of mashed potatoes
When he himself could dream
Of something raw…

To sleep - perchance to crave:
Ay, there's the rub,
For in that sleep
What recipe may come
Of how to pack raw veggies
In a blender
And by the blend
To make a mighty soup
Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished
And left for thou to try..

To make it creamy
Peel half avocado,
Do not forget
To throw away the pit
For sweetness, clean
And add sliced carrots,
Size matters,
So pick two or even three
For color green,
Throw in sunflower sprouts
A handful, maybe two will do
Thy never heard of those?
Not to worry, sub for any other
Green thou like to chew
For tint of sour,
Peel and slice a lemon
For flavor,
Get to add seaweed –
Wakame, dulse,
Kelp or any other –
For they may taste
Much the same to thee..
To spice things up,
Toss in an inch of ginger,
When bold, thou double it to two
Not to forget
A tablespoon of miso
To sub for salt
And try out something new
Then herbs -
A handful of cilantro,
Dill, parsley, thyme or basil -
Just to name a few..
The last but not the least -
Throw in one sliced onion
And two-three cloves of garlic
For a pungent oomph
Transfer all thou have prepared
To a blender,
Add water halfway to the rim.
DO NOT FORGET
To fit the jar with cover
And mighty soup
Is ready for a spin
To the desired smoothness
Of thy dreams...

But that the dread
Of something after meal,
The undiscovered country
Of raw food
From whose bourn
No traveler returns
(Since been kept captive on a john)
Puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear
Those foods we have
Than try out others
tThat we know not of?

Take an onion, finely dice,
Add garlic and risotto rice.
A few minutes fry in olive oil,
But not too long, or it will spoil.

Add stock and wine, about half a cup,
Stir well till rice doth take it up.
Keep adding stock, little and oft’
Keep stirring till thy rice be soft.

Add parmesan to give it flavour,
And whatever herbs you favour.
Add salt and pepper if you wish.
Then tip it all into a dish.

Chew on a moment
Blended with inspiration
To taste a poem

You ripped my "beating for only you". heart, right out of my chest.

So, I placed it on your untouched dinner, you'd left on the bench.

Then I picked up the plate and walked ever so slow, to the bin,

thoughtlessly, I scraped it off with a fork, all tarnished and bent.

This is my new poem
I'm just testing
This is my new poem
I'm just testing
This is my new poem
I'm just testing
This is my new poem
I'm just testing
This is my new poem
I'm just testing
This is my new poem
I'm just testing
This is my new poem
I'm just testing
This is my new poem
I'm just testing
This is my new poem
I'm just testing
This is my new poem
I'm just testing

Beer is handy
A thirst to quench
And whisky is dandy
Puts hairs on your chest

But nothing is so fine
Be it red, white or pink
From the fruit of the vine
Lets drink more wine