Botanically speaking, tomatoes are the fruit of a vine, just as are cucumbers, squashes, beans and peas.
quote by Horace Gray
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Screaming of The Corn
The summer was long
The summer was hot
The summer was dry
Days passed with
Not a cloud in the sky
And we had to water.
Everything that didn’t get water died.
The lawn dried up and blew away.
But the tomatoes grew and grew
And gave wave after wave
Of ruby red fruit.
We ate tomatoes until our gums were sore
Than gave the rest away
Only to find,
come morning yet more.
The pumpkin vines grew across the yard
When the cat walked by
The tendrils rose up
Like snakes and hissed menacingly.
We ate corn every day for a week
until the snap beans over powered
the corn stalks
breaking them down
Under the weight
Of fruit
And then we ate beans
And beans
And beans.
And the zucchini! ! !
The fruit grew right in front of our eyes
Not even waiting for the decency of night.
To veil it’s obscene, priapic swelling.
At night we prayed of the coming frost
And an end to this riotous fecundity.
But our dreams were filled with
feverish images of
Zucchini as big as zeppelins
Tomatoes the size of houses
And the screaming of the corn.
poem by Allan Thorne
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My plants
My plants
are eaten
by all kinds of vermin.
There are golden beetles
that reaps
the leaves of the beans,
brown buzzing beetles turning in the air
around the tomatoes,
snails that can’t wait
and demolish the leaves
of beans, spinach
and tomatoes.
Indian miners
that feast in their beaks
as if every thing belongs to them.
Even poison that I spread out
doesn’t help a bit
and plants from Mrs. Roberts
that should keep such things in check
grows rampant
and after rains
there are weeds
everywhere,
as if my garden
was prepared only for them.
Even one of the taps breaks
causing water to spray without end
and I have trouble
to bind it down
and have to go to Builders
to get a new one
and this garden man gets fed up
and wants to pull
all of the vegetables out
one by one
and put something else
like flowers into that ground,
until my darling says:
“thank you for the beans,
spinach, carrots and tomatoes
that you placed in the bowls,
can I get a bit of parsley
to put in the salad? ”
poem by Gert Strydom
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German Virile E-Coli Outbreak Source Was Beans?
no German research experts Doctors Bean Bean Bean and Bean
got it wrong again randomly pointing finger at specific farmers
wrecking all their perishable export commodities sales yet again
excellent export grade A cucumbers lettuces tomatoes and beans
Spanish or from other European countries were not to blame?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Home Grown Tomatoes
There aint nothin in the world that I like better than bacon n lettuce n
Home grown tomatoes up in the mornin, out in the garden
Get you a ripe one, dont pick a hard un plant em in the spring, eat em in
The summer all winter without em is a culinary bummer I forget all about the
Sweatinand the digginevery time I go out and pick me a big un home grown
Tomatoes, home grown tomatoes what would life be like without home grown
Tomatoes only two things that money cant buy
Thats true love and home grown tomatoes you can go out to eat an thats for
Sure but theres nothina home grown tomatoe wont cure put em in a salad, put
em in a stew
You can make your own tomatoe juice
You can eat em with eggs, eat em with gravy you can eat em with beans, pinto
Or navy put em on the side, put em in the middle home grown tomatoes on a hot
Cake griddle home grown tomatoes, home grown tomatoes what would life be like
Without home grown tomatoes only two things that money cant buy
Thats true love and home grown tomatoes if is to change this life I lead
You could call me johnny tomatoe seed
cause I know what this country needs
Home grown tomatoes in every yard you see when I die dont bury me
In a box in a cold dark cemetery
Out in the garden would be much better
cause I could be pushin up a home grown tomatoe home grown tomatoes, home
Grown tomatoes what would life be like without home grown tomatoes only two
Things that money cant buy
Thats true love and home grown tomatoes
Words and music by guy clark
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winter Promises
Tomatoes rosy as perfect baby's buttocks,
eggplants glossy as waxed fenders,
purple neon flawless glistening
peppers, pole beans fecund and fast
growing as Jack's Viagra-sped stalk,
big as truck tire zinnias that mildew
will never wilt, roses weighing down
a bush never touched by black spot,
brave little fruit trees shouldering up
their spotless ornaments of glass fruit:
I lie on the couch under a blanket
of seed catalogs ordering far
too much. Sleet slides down
the windows, a wind edged
with ice knifes through every crack.
Lie to me, sweet garden-mongers:
I want to believe every promise,
to trust in five pound tomatoes
and dahlias brighter than the sun
that was eaten by frost last week.
poem by Marge Piercy
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My Shopping List
I write my shopping-list in rhyme.
It doesn’t take me too much time,
and always helps me to remember.
(I’ve been doing it since last September.)
Wholemeal bread
low-fat spread
strawberry jam
dry-cured ham
Cheddar cheese
frozen peas
free-range eggs
chicken legs
grape jelly
pork belly
lamb chops
lemon drops
fillet steak
chocolate cake
cookie mix
seafood sticks
tortilla chips
salsa dips
instant coffee
treacle toffee
dried sultanas
ripe bananas
runner beans
a bunch of greens
new potatoes
vine tomatoes
and (really urgent)
liquid detergent.
That’s my shopping-list in verse.
Not very good? Could have been worse!
poem by Paul Hansford
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Fruits, Nuts, Vegetables and the Buzz of Bees
Does a grape know
That it is sweeter than the ones
Already picked from the vine?
And it is left to sit,
Knowing it?
Is it sour?
Does an apple know whether it's Delicious?
Granny or MacIntosh?
Suppose it thinks itself a peach?
What outreach programs would it seek,
To undo the confusion?
Especially with more varieties,
Moving in to further complex the issue.
And what about the pineapple?
Sitting in a palm tree.
Knowing bananas do palms too!
How would you feel...
If someone called you a coconut?
Would you be upset?
Why couldn't you have been the one,
To produce milk instead of nectar?
Watermelons and nuts come from the ground.
Well...
Peanuts anyway!
Can you imagine the conversations of pecans?
Growing in trees.
And having lemons, oranges and pomegranates too...
Giving them much attitude.
Because they have skins!
And not shells to live in!
Some squashes have seeds.
Peas are grown in pods.
Beans like lima and blackeyes,
Are considered vegetables.
Like collard geens, cabbage and lettuce!
And corn being stalked by crows.
Some are chosen to pop!
And thrown to pigeons...
Who dropp their 'doo' on street blocks.
Can you imagine?
If they ever decided to stir up conflict,
Amongst themselves.
Over the way they've been treated!
Not the pigeons!
They could care less.
However...
We would have no fruits, nuts or vegetables to eat.
Maybe this is something the bees already know?
Since they are just getting 'some' acknowlegement!
And they have been buzzing around and getting no respect.
For 'all' they do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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On a Bed of Romaine
On a bed of Romaine,
Sliced avocado.
Garden tomatoes.
Fresh cucumbers.
Celery and carrots...
Kissed by,
Vadalia Onion Dressing.
And topped with raisins.
Blanketed,
By an awaiting tongue.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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German Virile E-Coli Misdiagnosed
Ground breaking earth shaking Germany has done it again
first Germany introduced German measles then Adolf Hitler
now German E-Coli to rock reshape an entire watching globe
German crack researchers health experts could not even tell
this was a virile new E-Coli strain a hybrid of two old strains
or a rare highly toxic strain of E-Coli bacteria misdiagnosed?
Germany blamed Spanish cucumbers could not even identify
new strain next German experts will claim a carrot for radical
new research its E-Coli source German beans German beans
let us not forget Germany wanted Greece to sell their Acropolis
or rent it out to pay off EEC debt then cucumbers Spanish growth
time Germany sold trade peace compass plus Brandenburg gate
The disease Rubella, is also known as German measles, because it was first described by German physicians, in the mid-eighteenth century.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Superfine green beans, tomatoes and Chasselas grapes.
It Tastes Like Sugar
Black beans and white beans,
Pine, vine, dine, fine, cine, nine, mine, wine, sine, tine;
But it tastes like sugar!
So don't eat much to run your stomach,
For the confidential reign is all about your hidden love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The usefulness of cow-peas and soy-beans as human food has been recognized only recently in this country.
quote by David F. Houston
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fairytale Thinking
My mind creates a twisted vine
and sometimes strangles a thought.
Did Jack and the beanstalk feel like this
with those beans he bought?
Oh that my mind would settle down
and let that vine disappear
I'd slay that Giant just like Jack
and never have to fear
anything.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Focus On E-Coli Eradication
first fame media crack top hats
German health experts
blamed Spanish cucumbers
could not even identify
a virile new E-Coli strain
busy pointing finger of blame
said it was cucumbers
then it was German beans
identified guilty farmers
then retracted accusations
within twenty-four hours
after sales of these crops sours
give German health experts
our helping hands
impose accusation bans
until credible evidence sources
professionally lab sprouts
concentrate on saving victims
hint most severe illnesses
hemolytic-uremic syndrome (HUS)
has serious complications
is a type of E-Coli forget media hype
Shiga toxin-producing E-Coli (STEC)
a highly toxic strain demands focus
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Black Eye Pea Stew
Did I mention,
My black eye pea stew to you?
Well...
This is what you do.
Boil your water,
Add sliced smoked turkey butt.
With seasons you prefer.
I like to mix in olive oil with butter first.
Before adding apple vinegar...
With Old Bay and a bit of salt,
Then soy sauce...
To allow my taste buds to burst.
Add your black eye peas.
Speckled butter lima beans.
Kidney and black beans too!
I also enjoy cooking with onions...
Green peppers, carrots and celery.
For a flavored taste,
You simply can not refuse!
Well...
You can 'try' making attempts.
But licking your lips,
Is not too convincing of a defense.
'May I get some more? '
You sure can!
After I get to taste it myself!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Before' The Beans
Take one turkey butt,
And put it in boiling water.
Make sure you had put in olive oil first.
With a little butter, oregano and basil leaves.
Then add two tablespoons of soy sauce.
A pinch or two of brown sugar, salt and red pepper.
20 minutes!
That's all you want to give it 'before' the beans!
Speckled Butter Beans.
With kidney and black eye peas.
Add them with sliced carrots and celery.
Turn down the heat,
To medium for approximately 45minutes.
And serve this with brown rice.
If you are into chicken...
Fried wings would be delicious.
For the better of the best tastes,
The 'smoked' turkey butt is great for that!
NOTE: 'Yes' this is my own original recipe.
Enjoy!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Women's harvest song
I am waving a ripe sunflower,
I am scattering sunflower pollen to the four world-quarters.
I am joyful because of my melons,
I am joyful because of my beans,
I am joyful because of my squashes.
The sunflower waves.
So did the corn wave
When the wind blew against it,
So did my white corn bend
When the red lightning descended upon it,
It trembled as the sunflower
When the rain beat down its leaves.
Great is a ripe sunflower,
And great was the sun above my corn-fields.
His fingers lifted up the corn-ears,
His hands fashioned my melons,
And set my beans full in the pods.
Therefore my heart is happy
And I will lay many blue prayer-sticks at the shrine of Ta-wa.
I will give corn to Ta-wa,
Yellow corn, blue corn, black corn.
I wave the sunflower,
The sunflower heavy with pollen.
I wave it, I turn it, I sing,
Because I am happy.
poem by Amy Lowell
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The greatest thing
I put the seed
into ground that I
mingled with dark black compost.
Rows of beans,
some carrots, some pumpkins
and spinach
I sowed into the orange brown earth.
Some small tomato plants,
I planted in blocks
and pressed small
frames of reeds
on top
for them to crawl over.
Every day I sprayed water
and tended the weeds
and in time
little green plants
sprang out of the ground
and the tomatoes crept
and crawled all over
their reeds.
It was great to be part
of spring and see
living things sprout
from the ground,
but a dog dug
some carrots out
and a flock of mice
came to eat
tomatoes from the plants.
Yet in time
some great vegetables
came to my table
and spring was awesome
and so was summer
and to tend my own garden
is the greatest thing.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Saturday Song
They talk about gardens of roses,
And moonlight over the sea,
And mountains and snow
And sunsetty glow,
But I know what is best for me.
The prettiest sight I know,
Worth all your roses and snow,
Is the blaze of light on a Saturday night,
When the barrows are set in a row.
I've heard of bazaars in India
All glitter and spices and smells,
But they don't compare
With the naphtha flare
And the herrings the coster sells;
And the oranges piled like gold,
The cucumbers lean and cold,
And the red and white block-trimmings
And the strawberries fresh and ripe,
And the peas and beans,
And the sprouts and greens,
And the 'taters and trotters and tripe.
And the shops where they sell the chairs,
The mangles and tables and bedding,
And the lovers go by in pairs,
And look--and think of the wedding.
And your girl has her arm in yours,
And you whisper and make her blush.
Oh! the snap in her eyes--and her smiles and her sighs
As she fancies the purple plush!
And you haven't a penny to spend,
But you dream that you've pounds and pounds;
And arm in arm with your only friend
You make your Saturday rounds:
And you see the cradle bright
With ribbon--lace--pink and white;
And she stops her laugh
And you drop your chaff
In the light of the Saturday night.
And the world is new
For her and you -
A little bit of all-right.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Vines of Love
Two hearts beating as one
Entwined like a vine
The many colours of love's curling ends
Rolling fingers on canvas
Like soft gentle flaps of butterfly wings
Toe curling sighs of delight
Eating juiciest fruit from the vine
Creeping crawling whatever the calling
Under the moon's light
Twirling curling consuming
Caressing with words
Touching souls
Vine steadied around pillars of stairway
Love shading the night
poem by Persian Khushi
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