Sometimes I've looked at a plate of food and wondered if it wouldn't look better as a hat.
quote by Janet Street-Porter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't Waste Food
Hundreds and thousands have toiled under the scorching sun of summer,
to grow the food which so comfortably we eat.
think of food as the fruit of labor of thousands of hours,
rather than just rice and wheat.
millions die due to lack of food, so is their fate,
but we are lucky to have every time enough in our plate.
we may never go to the fields to produce the food,
but my friend 'food saved is food produced'.
so lets take a vow today to put in our plate only that much which we can eat,
so that even a single single grain may not go waste.
poem by Sunny Mittal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Quiet Kind
I've never really written a poem
no reason to
But today feels like a day for words
the quiet kind
I wondered if i should tell
you know, about me
what i think
i thought about the
snow, and the night when
we were forever
i wondered if you knew
if you saw right through me
if i was a mystery
or if you never even looked
i thought about what comes next
i wondered if you wondered
if there was something
more
or if we just turned to
dust
and nothing is left
but you
but me
i thought about you today.
A buffet to Remember
It was a buffet to remember
With a lovely Hawaiian theme
Food so fresh and flavorful
It was truly a food critic’s dream
Shrimp so sweet and tasty
Dipping sauce perfectly mixed
The platters were so beautiful
With everything that was fixed
A pig cooked to perfection
We couldn’t wait to eat
So much food to put on our plate
Hard to carry it to our seat
The perfect way to celebrate
Harold’s 100th birthday
Grabbed our plate and filled it up
It was just like a holiday!
poem by Marilyn Lott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Points
Counting points every day
To try and keep my weight at bay
Low cal this low fat that
Its all to keep me from getting fat
Meer morsels appear upon my plate
Were once was full my mighty plate
Green stuff coming out my ears
I should have buckteeth and rabbit ears
The weight is dropping really slow
I have such a long way to go
Rabbit food and plate so bare
About my weight I really care
Four months down the line
Lost loads of weight and feeling fine
No more grumbling about the food
That balanced diet done me good
Chellaston
06 04 2010
poem by Jim O'Donnell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Monkey Principle
Monkey always says
Your food is not your food
In your plate
Until you hold it
In your hand
Your food is not your food
In your hand
Until you put it
In your mouth
Your food is not your food
In your mouth
Until you swallow it
Because anything can
Knock your mouth
And you spit it out
poem by David Aoloch Bion
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Overweight with Food
Are you just a tub of lard and
Vastly overweight?
Do you think that when you die you'll
Need a piano crate
To act as coffin for your frame? -
Chosen as you die in shame, with
Only you to take the blame
For years of eating much the same:
A daily calorific fest
Gourmands of your ilk digest!
Is your heart in final fling and
Nearly set to burst?
Are your arteries bunged and clogged and
Feeling now the worst
For wear? - your aneurysm fit to blow
While blood as thick as rising dough
Cries 'Halt! ' to any hope of flow:
A dreadful state to put on show
In front of any nurse!
Best you hail a hearse.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Before Action
We always had to do our work at night.
I wondered why we had to be so sly.
I wondered why we couldn't have our fight
Under the open sky.
I wondered why I always felt so cold.
I wondered why the orders seemed so slow,
So slow to come, so whisperingly told,
So whisperingly low.
I wondered if my packing-straps were tight,
And wondered why I wondered……Sound
went wild………
and order came…… I ran into the night,
wondering why I smiled.
poem by Leon Gellert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Too Much Food
You can say that Im one curly fry in the box of the regular
Messing with the flavor oh the flavor that you savor
Saving me for last but you better not eat me at all
Living in a fast food bag making friends with the ketchup and salt
People say that Im crazy for not moving on to better things
Instead Im sitting around trash talking with the onion rings
But its much too soon to leave this easy life
Pass me the spoon. pass the analytical knife
Cause your about to get cut and get cut down
Its all about the wordplay all about the sound in the tone of my voice
You gotta let me make my choice alone before my food gets cold
Better shut up or get shot down. it s all about the know how all just a matter of taste
Stop telling me the way I gotta play. too much food on my plate.
Believe it or not I super sized my sights on the surprise in the cereal box
My stomachs smaller than my eyes
So I went to see the doctor and he said turn your head and then cough
I didnt listen to what he said instead I couldnt wait to get off
He said I can have this but I cant have that
That I should keep wishing I was living the life of a cat because
I aint the one whose gonna be missing the feast
Just like you aint the one who seems to be calming the beast
Now your about to get cut and get cut down
Its all about the wordplay all about the sound in the tone of my voice
You gotta let me make my choice alone before my food gets cold
Better shut up or get shot down. it s all about the know how all just a matter of taste
Stop telling me the way I gotta play. too much food on my plate.
Well if you are what you eat in my case Ill be sweet so come and get some
Im so over it.
Now your about to get cut and get cut down
It s all about the know how all just a matter of taste
Stop telling me the way I gotta play. too much food on my plate.
(get up and get some)
Theres too much food on my plate
song performed by by Jason Mraz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Syrup Sponge
Pour a pint of cream
Upon my spongy bulge!
Scoop me with a
Hefty spoon;
Taste my essence -
Do you swoon?
Feed your self-esteem; indulge
In me until you burst -
Death by syrup sponge - you're cursed!
And as the count in inches gain
Upon your weary waist, the strain
Will tell, but you'll not care -
Steeped in sponge, you're unaware!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food
food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What If
What if I couldn’t see?
I wouldn’t know how to be.
What if I couldn’t walk?
I wouldn’t be able to go to the park.
What if I couldn’t smell?
I wouldn’t know early monsoon shower smell.
What if I couldn’t feel?
I wouldn’t even know how to heal.
What if I couldn’t taste?
All the gourmet food would go to waste.
What if I couldn’t touch?
I wouldn’t know love as such.
What if I couldn’t cry?
I wouldn’t be able to let go of grief even if I try.
What if I couldn’t smile?
I wouldn’t be able to feel light even for a while.
I can do all of these things
Lord, it’s a blessing.
, These are the gifts
We realize when we are unfit.
I have really no clue
How the less privileged do.
I guess with courage and acceptance
They go on with grace.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Salad is Incompatible with Life
Yes, my waist is fifty inches -
Big for me because I'm short.
And yes, I like my cheddar cheese
When partnered with a vintage port.
Okay, okay, that double cream
Is always served with pud,
And cake and biscuits with my tea
Are just no bloody good
For my poor hardened arteries,
But see my point of view,
Please dear wifey if you please,
A Salad makes me spew!
I'd rather eat a bowl of air
Than crunch away on greens;
Drink water from the toilet bowl
Or nibble on my jeans!
But salad! Are you there?
You know it makes me snappy -
So let me fill my face with grub,
Stay fat, and die young happy!
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just A Dog
There was this dog
with gray and black hair
in dog years he must have been pretty old
and he was begging for food
and the strange thing about it was
that his hands looked human
what was not so strange
was that they were empty
then when leaving for my home
I wondered if he ever had one
oh well would have like to help
like everyone else
but had things to do
and its not like he was human?
he was just a dog
poem by Vincent Armone
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Learn About the Little Boy Who Thinks He's Grown
My brother is like any other
Sits at home watches T.V.
Likes to go outside but can never defeat
He's charming but mean
When comes to messing with me
And doesn't really care about school
He's bad in school
He curses at the teacher even at the students
Doesn't give a damn of who got excuses
His name is Joshua
And has a brother who is only 2 years of age
But the funny thing is they argue everyday
My brother is gready he likes to eat
He'll eat my plate of food his plate of food and even yours
That's Joshua with 4 years of age
poem by LADii3 T Hinojosa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some food
Some food is
Medicine...
Medicine is some food...
Some food is poison...
Some food is Tenson...
Some food is Fear...
Some food is lovely...
Some food is Bland...
Some food is sweety...
Some food is spicy...
Some food is nothing...
Food is not only food
A good eatable medicine...
At only some food...
Some food...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Creep Hymn
The creep
Goes to a restaurant
And order the food to eat at the restaurant
But when the food comes he eats a little bit of the food
Just so he can taste it
And he tells everybody very loud that the food that he order
Taste like shit
And then he takes the plate and throws it on the floor
But he lives the restaurant without pay
The waitress from the restaurant looks everywhere for him in the Restaurant
Sorry waitress he is gone out of the door
And he run away so that you couldn't catch him
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Old Dog Keith Is Now A King
Had a dream the other night
about my old dog Keith
he was in doggy heaven
and he had loads of teeth.
On earth he wasn't handsome
as he only had one good eye
and he was always very nervous
and scared of even a fly.
But in my dream he looked brave
and looked well and really fit
and he was surrounded by other dogs
as on a big throne did Keith sit.
He had on his head a golden crown
written on it were the words Top Dog
he was no longer a timid wreck
who was frightened of even a frog.
Dogs were bowing down before him
and offering him meat on a plate
on Earth he couldn't chew food
but now he could which was great.
When Keith rose to his paws
all the dogs chanted his name
I was amazed how strong he looked
he now had a really powerful frame.
So my Keith was no longer a wimp
who was scared of almost everything
but here he is in doggy paradise
ruling over other dogs as a canine king!
poem by Kevin Halls
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Soul Food
My old boy from the point
But I'm from Southwest and every
Now and then I get put to the test
But I can't be stopped
Cause I gotta come true ain't go no gun
But I got my crew
Didn't come fro no beef cause I don't eat steak
I got a plate of soul food chicken
song performed by by Goodie Mob from Soul Food
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sauces In The Mouth
Satisfy us, the sauce is laid on the plate,
To sound like a train we munch on the crockery.
All of us are tame, men sweat due to food and water,
This ranch of dining musically swings with munching.
My food created the salmon in my mouth
To move in lovely rhythm with my tongue.
Its territory is tested, like all good men,
But the inner taste is subjected to the pleasures.
At the end of all this is bitter and sweet food
Being kept in batches for the stomach to design.
I have been satisfied by the ranch of food and dining,
The sauce is hot and sticky in the very district.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Food Chain Complexity Interlocked
egg poached
not scrambled
salty awaits on plate
therefore no tears needed
to mourn
flightless life not hatched
food is needed
sustainance for soul
food chain interlocked
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Let Sleeping Dogs Lie
A man looked down at his dog on the floor
and he wondered why
the dog was content to sleep on the floor
or wherever he would lie?
So the man got down on the floor to sleep
and found he was wide awake.
His back was sore and the rest of him
turned into one big ache.
The dog awoke and looked at the man,
then slept in the man's chair.
The man looked up at the dog and knew
that dog could sleep anywhere.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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