You can't set a hen in one morning and have chicken salad for lunch.
quote by George M. Humphrey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chicken and Other Foods
She is coming home tonight, been away for two days.
Bought her, what she likes… a well roasted chicken.
On the farm where I was brought up, old hens that
didn’t lay eggs as before had heads chopped off and
ended up in the pot. Incredible tough meat had to boil
it for hours. Never liked the smell in a chicken coop,
I think concentration camps must have stunk like that
too many bodies in small rooms and no escape.
The coop’s capo wasn’t safe either, when it didn’t
perform as before, off with its head. When she enjoys
her roasted chicken with lemon sauce I will eat a burger,
since it doesn’t look remotely like a dead animal and as
I have never seen a dead cow, only milked them every
morning at five, it will taste ok with Italian salad.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Coffee Dream
Although it’s only one hour till lunch -
my stomach won’t wait.
Non-stop growling for the past two hours
has gotten the best of me.
Besides, my taste buds
are ready to murder for a cup of coffee.
Should I say ‘murder’ in a courthouse?
I discovered myself in the eating lounge
with a coffee machine that still doesn’t work.
How unfair that I can’t leave the building
for a quick cup of coffee till lunch.
So, I resort to having the small salad and orange
that was to be my lunch.
Still, I want that coffee!
I’ll take it boiling hot
right out of the pot.
So now I look forward
to when then release us for lunch.
I plan to run down the street and get
a very large cup of coffee -
maybe two or three.
I desperately need my caffeine fix for today.
What shall we eat, ?
What shall we eat for breakfast, said the childrens mother,
What about pancakes and honey, but mum said its a bother;
The father came down, and he said, Id like a nice mixed grill,
But mum said cereal it is, cause I still can't cook I feel I'll.
What shall I have to eat, at lunch time today,
I might try a grill, or hamburger, but there's no way,
One is my money, the other is my weight,
If I eat too much, I'll get depressed, then I'll be in a state,
What do you want to eat, we re asked said the lady in the cafe,
Roast chicken and salad, then I'll try fruit souffle'.
My friend wanted a pizza, ravioli, and then gelati for sweet,
Yes! It's okay to eat what you like, but don't over eat.
poem by Margaret Haig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Caesar salad is one of my favourite lunch foods. You can shovel it in and talk at the same time.
quote by Janet Street-Porter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love, like a chicken salad or restaurant hash, must be taken with blind faith or it loses its flavor.
quote by Helen Rowland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crow Black Chicken
(laurence wilson)
Well, I went on the mountain
And I gave my horn a blow
Thought I heard some purty gal say
Yonder come my beau
Crow black chicken and crow for a day
Crow black chicken and fly away
Crow black chicken and-a ...
I like chicken pie
Well, the hardest work that ever I done
Is plowin a field of rye
The easiest work that ever I done
Was eatin chicken pie
Chicken crow for midnight
And chicken crow for a day
Along come an owl, lord, have mercy
And stole my chicken away
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So
So, what's it gonna' be...
I waited patiently, stubby pencil in hand.
'...chicken or fish? '
She was planning a dinner party, the magnificent woman-
'Um...um...why not both? Oh, and we need some candles...put those down.'
'ok...both, ' I wrote, 'chicken and fish. Who are these people you're inviting?
'Just a bunch of diplomats. Oh, and flowers, but I'll get those.'
'Diplomats? What kind? ' I inquired, idly.
'I don't know, yet. Whatever's not on sale. But there's only one kind of diplomat. You'd best be going. They'll be here in six hours.'
I rose to go.
'And the salad? ' I remembered.
'What about it? , she asked, tying on an apron.
'What kind? '
'Mista.'
'Yes, sir, ' I saluted, and left.
poem by Morgan Michaels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ode to Chickens
An Ode to Chickens
Oh chicken, oh chicken,
With orange little feet,
All white and fluffy,
So good to eat,
Oh chicken, oh chicken,
I will get you so fat,
Then I will kill you,
And eat you at last
poem by Trevor Cummins
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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First Day of School
I feel dizzy: I feel sick,
Hey, she threw up a stick!
He has ice,
She has lice.
Our teacher sneezes way too much,
Wait, where's my lunch.
The nurse is very sick,
Look I found a baby tick!
My principal has the flu,
Are we almost through?
Someone found a fly,
Then ate the ugly guy.
Then came lunch,
Oh, dare, it was a mess.
At 2: 50, we all threw up,
Then we all left when a chicken clucked.
My first day just wasn't right.
poem by Dragon Crenshaw
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ode To Orange Chgicken
Orange chicken, oh orange chicken,
how much I love you.
You're sweet, sticky, and tangy, all at the same time,
you go great wi th soy sauce, but never with lime.
ode to orange chicken, which I love to devour,
it's been in my mouth so often, it knows that i have power.
It knows the names of my taste buds, Jill, Lil, and Bill,
sometimes the orange chicken is happy, but sometimes it's held against it's will.
Whenever I eat orange chicken, it goes CRUNCH, CRUNCH,
and I have to have chow mein, and that goes MUCH, MUNCH!
Ode to orange chicken, it is always in a bowl,
but did I mention, i also love eggrolls.
poem by Aubrey Harmel
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Chicken Hearted
(bill justis)
My girlfriend slipped and fell
Now she's hanging from a cliff
I can't come to her rescue
But these flowers i must sniff
You see i'd really like to save her
But i aint got the nerve
I'm chicken hearted
I'm chicken hearted
I'm tryin' to kiss my girl
And it makes me want to faint
I'm scared of my own shadow
And afraid of what i ain't
I've no inspiration
I'm kinda yellow...
I'm chicken hearted,
I'm chicken hearted
Mama's in the workshop
Daddy's in the jail
I seem to be afraid
To go to work and make their bail
I guess my folks will have to stay there
Cos i'm just like a snail
I'm chicken hearted,
I'm chicken hearted
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hamburgercheeseranchbacoburger
Sitting back taking a break
Staring at this stale piece of cake.
I ponder what to eat for lunch
Or shall I call it brunch?
Tacos, pizza, or a salad
This is one crazy ballad.
I usually don't go out to eat
Walking that far would hurt my feet.
Finally it has been decided
a
Hamburgercheeseranchbacoburger
poem by Kilee Burton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tender Buttons [Chicken]
CHICKEN.
Pheasant and chicken, chicken is a peculiar third.
CHICKEN.
Alas a dirty word, alas a dirty third alas a dirty third, alas a dirty bird.
CHICKEN.
Alas a doubt in case of more go to say what it is cress. What is it. Mean. Why. Potato. Loaves.
CHICKEN.
Stick stick call then, stick stick sticking, sticking with a chicken. Sticking in a extra succession, sticking in.
poem by Gertrude Stein
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Road Kill
This morning, I went for a walk,
A stroll in winter's morning chill.
I'd had a breakfast of fried pork,
For lunch I hoped to find road kill.
There were some toads squashed here and there,
A snake had clearly met his end;
But nothing I considered fare,
Until I walked around a bend.
There lying in a crumpled heap,
(He'd surely parted from his flock)
There lay a bruised and bloodied sheep;
He'd suffered from a fatal knock.
It was a shame he'd come to harm,
A tragedy he'd had to die.
My wooly friend had bought the farm,
For lunch I'm having shepherd's pie.
poem by Dennis N. O'Brien
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sunday Morning
Sunday morning silence, curtain stay closed late
No one thinks of kitchens mornings in a filthy state
Dishes cups and beer stains, ashtrays on the floor
Sunday morning papers are left outside the front door
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
(sunday, bloody sunday rest)
Glass of fizzy water helps to start the day
Sit and listen to sunday silence, problems fade away
Sunday cars and drivers break the morning air
Uncollected milk outside reveals theres no one there
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
Bathrobes hang in waiting, windows steaming up
Somewhere in the sink downstairs lies an unwashed cup
Tea and toast for breakfast clear away the plates
Wash-up prepare for cooking sunday lunch awaits
Sunday lunch awaits
Sunday lunch awaits
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Word Salad
Like veggie salad tossed here and there
Random words mix up good meaning
Spiced up musings everywhere
The taste of which is quite confusing.
So I looked and read classic poetry
Perchance there find some gourmet score
Hoping my diligence gets the recipe
For the word salad I am looking for.
Salads taste nice with a little dressing
And thrown about words may hit some cue
I guess I could never do salad writing
So I stick to rhyme in the poems I do.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why Did The Chicken Cross The Road
The chicken was undecided on whether to cross the road,
she was a short sighted chicken
who, not being able to see across the road
couldn't quite understand the advantages
of being on the other side.
People passing by the chicken
stopped to ask if she wanted to get across the road
but the chicken just clucked, indecisively,
looking very concerned as to her own
demise if she should attempt to.
After all, should she transverse the road
and avoid oncoming vehicles
she would then be stuck on the other side
but should she not, then she may well
feel unfulfilled, unaccomplished.
Not wanting to disappoint,
let down, or cause a disturbance
the chicken did a little shake,
a little flutter and hop, skipped
and jumped across the road.
A local lorry came hurtling towards her,
she saw the headlights, heard the horn
but too late! There were chicken bits
all over the place while a local
reporter took notes, writing:
We'll never know why the chicken
tried to cross that road in heavy traffic
but she was pronounced dead
on arrival at the local hospital.
They'll be no live chicken tonight.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Girls Just Want To Have Lunch
[parody of girls just want to have fun by cyndi lauper]
I know to keep a woman satisfied.
When I whip out my diners card their eyes get so wide.
Theyre always in the mood for something to munch.
Ah girls, they wanna have lunch.
Ah, girls just wanna have...
Thats all they really want,
Some lunch.
Dont ask em to dinner
Or breakfast or brunch,
cause girls, they wanna have lunch.
Ah, girls just wanna have lunch.
Girls they want, wanna have lunch, girls, wanna have...
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chicken Pot Pie
When we were young, bernies deli was down the block
(ooh ooh ooh ooh)
He made a great liver pate
(you know he did, you know he did, you know he did)
But if theres one thing in this world that I like better
Than a corned beef on rye
Its chicken pot pie
Chicken pot pie
(chorus of chicken-cluck imitations)
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Petri-dish
Your love is like salad in a salad Petri-dish,
But, bounded in the myth of paradise! !
However, the pivoting labour of your muse acts like flaccid breasts;
And, tomorrow is the opening of your hot meal to the masses,
For, you are very much noted in this village.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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