This Is Just To Say
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
poem by William Carlos Williams (1934)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Related quotes
0265 This is just to say
William,
that I'm glad that you
enjoyed the plums
which I was saving
for breakfast
I'm saving the note
you tacked on the
icebox door
for the divorce
I'm suing for
to show how selfish
you are
and later I'll publish it
to show just how offhand
a poet can be
revenge is
best enjoyed
at leisure
sweet and delicious
as cold plums
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Epitaph on an Unread Verse after William Carlos Williams' Red Wheelbarrow
This is just to play on plum phrases
hibernating in your brainbox,
which your neurones were probably waiting for
to break free fast.
Forgive me their taste is delicious,
so neat and so bold.
An agèd poet with hollow laughter
swiftly sprayed her incisive syllables
in consonant activity and, yearning,
paid [s]lip service:
so much depends
upon lifelong learning's expectations,
an unread verse [s]pokes for comments,
reigns above lily-livered chicken-hearted critics
before a blank screen.
so much more depends
upon monochromatic ash clouds
glazed with silicates
beside Icelandic
eruptions.
Life is verse role-reversing uninclined ignorance
shadowing dis...inclined ink lined page.
(Revised 3 October 2009 and19 Aptil 2010)
This is Just to Say
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
William Carlos Williams 1883_1963
Variation on a Theme by William Carlos Williams
1 I chopped down the house that you had been saving to live in next summer. I am sorry, but it was morning, and I had nothing to do and its wooden beams were so inviting.
2 We laughed at the hollyhocks together and then I sprayed them with lye. Forgive me. I simply do not know what I am doing.
3 I gave away the money that you had been saving to live on for the next ten years. The man who asked for it was shabby and the firm March wind on the porch was so juicy and cold.
4 Last evening we went dancing and I broke your leg. Forgive me. I was clumsy and I wanted you here in the wards, where I am the doctor!
Kenneth Koch 1925_20
Epitaph on an Unre[a]d Verse after William Carlos Williams
An aged poet with hollow laughter swiftly sprayed her incisive syllables in consonant activity and, yearning, paid [s]lip service:
so much depends
upon lifelong learning's expectations,
an unread verse [s]pokes for comments,
reigns above white chicken-hearted critics
on a blank screen.
Life is verse role-reversing uninclined ignorance
shadowing an inclined ink lined page.
(Parody William Carlos Williams Epitaph AND The Red Wheelbarrow written 14 September 2008)
Epitaph
An old willow with hollow branches
slowly swayed his few high bright tendrils
and sang:
Love is a young green willow
shimmering at the bare wood's edge.
William Carlos Williams 1883_1963
The Red Wheelbarrow
so much depends
upon
a red
wheelbarrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens
William Carlos Williams 1883_1963
The Yellow Goldfish
so much depends
upon
a yellow gold
fish
washed down with bowl
water
inside the white
kitten
William Carlos Williams' Cat Henry BEARD Parody William Carlos Williams The Red Wheelbarrow
The T.V. Guide
So much more depends
upon
a universal remote
control
sitting on a coffee
table
beside the TV
Guide
Chris CLOKE - Parody William Carlos Williams The Red Wheelbarrow
An Apology
Forgive me
for backing over
and smashing
your red wheelbarrow.
It was raining
and the rear wiper
does not work on
my new plum-colored SUV.
I am also sorry
about the white
chickens.
Frances Jean BERGMANN
Parody William Carlos Williams The Red Wheelbarrow
The Red Cadillac
Willie 'Slick' Williams reads William Carlos Williams, then writes a letter to the producers of the TV makeover show 'Pimp My Ride', explaining why his car should be featured on the program.'
so much depends
upon
a red cadillac
slick
with turtle
wax
beside the white
chicks
Reginald O'Hare GIBSON 19_20
Parody William Carlos Williams The Red Wheelbarrow
Stuffing WCW
so much depends
upon
sodium erythorbate
and sugar
mixed with salt
water
inside the processed
chickens.
Parody Unknown Author William Carlos Williams The Red Wheelbarrow
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Variations On A Theme By William Carlos Williams
1
I chopped down the house that you had been saving to live in next summer.
I am sorry, but it was morning, and I had nothing to do
and its wooden beams were so inviting.
2
We laughed at the hollyhocks together
and then I sprayed them with lye.
Forgive me. I simply do not know what I am doing.
3
I gave away the money that you had been saving to live on for the
next ten years.
The man who asked for it was shabby
and the firm March wind on the porch was so juicy and cold.
4
Last evening we went dancing and I broke your leg.
Forgive me. I was clumsy and
I wanted you here in the wards, where I am the doctor!
poem by Kenneth Koch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Java Plums
those java plums
are sweet
and round and glossy
and by all means
attractive to the
palate
i am very thirsty
and you leave it on my
table and you
expect me to be just like them all
eat the plums without you
i have forgiven you
i am not eating them
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sky Seasoning
A piece of sky
Broke off and fell
Through the crack in the ceiling
Right into my soup,
KERPLOP!
I really must state
That I usually hate
Lentil soup, but I ate
Every drop!
Delicious delicious
(A bit like plaster),
But so delicious, goodness sake--
I could have eaten a lentil-soup lake.
It's amazing the difference
A bit of sky can make.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Candy for Breakfast
MMM!
candy for breakfast!
cake for dinner!
all such a wonderful
idea
I dont care
if I get cavities
I just want some
more sweets!
MMM! main course comming up
sweet tarts, delicious,
but I'd rather have
just a few taffys
Why not throw in a few
sprinkles, hershys, taffys,
cream, cake, sugar, vanilla
MMM! candy for breakfast
why not lunch?
or dinner?
midnight snake for sure
But i dont want to
get too carried away, right?
poem by John McAdam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fishing
delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious
delicious
delicious
delicious
delicious
delicious
delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious
delicious
delicious
delicious
delicious
delicious
delicious
delicio us
delicious
delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious
delicious
delicious
delicious
delicious
delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious
delicious
Is this just to say
'Shall I be gone long?
Forever and a day.
Where will I go?
Ask my song.'
The sweet cold plums
in the ice-box
were no compensation
for the note attached there
by the adulterer.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ballade Of The Breakfast Table
When the Festal Board, as the papers say,
Groans 'neath the weight of a lot to eat,
At breakfast, Fruhstuck or dejeuner,
(As a bard tri-lingual I'm rather neat)
At breakfast, then, if I may repeat,
This is what gets me into a huff,
This is a query I cannot beat:
Why don't they ever have spoons enough?
I've broken my fast with the grave and gay,
With hoi polloi and with the elite;
I've been all over the U. S. A.
From Dorchester Crossing to Kearney Street.
But aye when I sit in the morning seat
Comes to my notice the self-same bluff,
Plenty of food, but in this they cheat:
Why don't they ever have spoons enough?
Take it at breakfast, only to-day:
This was the layout, fresh and sweet:
Canteloupe, sweet as the new-mown hay; [Footnote: And about as edible.]
Cereal-one of the brands[Footnote: To advertisers: This space for sale.]
of wheat;
Soft-boiled eggs (we've cut out the meat) :
Coffee (a claro-manila-buff) :
Napery, china, and glasses complete-
Why don't they ever have spoons enough?
L'ENVOI
Autocratesses, forgive my heat,
But isn't it time to change that stuff?
Small is the benison I entreat-
Why don't they ever have spoons enough?
poem by Franklin P. Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Your kiss is delicious
Baby I know
Your kiss is delicious
It smells sweet so
I am not suspicious.
Baby I know
Your kiss is delicious
Hoo Hoo Hoo Hook
Your kiss is delicious.
Your eyelashes painted with collyrium
Is something to stare at, they are so awesome!
Your long black hair is like Jamuna River
It smells sweet so I want to be its diver!
Your smile is like new moon of spring
If you love me let’s dance and sing!
poem by Asif Andalib
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With Sweetened Feedings Eating
I'd rather fictionalize.
I'd rather remove the real-ness...
From my eyes.
I'd rather fictionalize.
And,
Live a life with everything made up...
With sweetened feedings eaten.
Living life with everything made up...
With sweetened feedings eaten.
I'd rather fictionalize.
I'd rather remove the real-ness...
From my eyes.
I'd rather pick on my platter,
Everything delicious I'll eat up.
And it wouldn't matter that it's...
Everything delicious I'll eat up.
I'd rather fictionalize.
I'd rather remove the real-ness...
From my eyes.
And,
Live a life with everything made up...
With sweetened feedings eating,
Everything delicious I'll eat up.
And it wouldn't matter that it's...
Everything delicious I'll eat up.
With sweetened feedings eating,
Everything delicious I'll eat up.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: Forgive Them God, Lord
Forgive them God, they know not what they do;
Forgive them Lord, they know not what they say;
Forgive them God, they are my siblings too;
Forgive them Lord, they seem just bad today!
Forgive them God, they were all born with me;
Forgive them Lord, they suffered really;
Forgive them God; they were so good truly;
Forgive them Lord, they have done their duty!
Forgive them God, the tempter has them prey;
Forgive them Lord, they were so sad most days;
Federal been God and send your guardian fay;
Forgive them Lord, they have innocent face!
Forgive them God; I’ll pray for them instead;
Forgive them Lord; better You strike me dead!
28-5-2001 Perundurai, ERODE. T.N. INDIA
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wheedle The Riddle
So delicious so sweet,
An African with an Eskimo;
Blackeye peas,
White-eye beans;
I an in the valley of love with my mind.
What if this person was a White?
This person will have a white skin and,
A long hair,
What if this person was a Black?
This person will have a black skin and,
A short hair;
Love is like the rainbow out there.
Out of the romance came love,
Out of the kiss came something so sweet;
Rain clouds of the sky,
So delicious so sweet.
Wheedle the riddle,
An African with an Eskimo;
So delicious so sweet is this muse at hand.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Can Have Him
[maizie:]
You can have him
I dont want him
Hes not worth fighting for
Besides theres plenty more where he came from
I dont want him
You can have him
Im giving him the sack
And he can go right back where he came from
I could never make him happy
Hed be better off with you
Im afraid I never loved him
All I ever wanted to do was
Run my fingers thru his curly locks
Mend his underwear and darn his socks
Fetch his slippers and remove his shoes
Wipe his glasses when he read the news
Rub his forehead with a gentle touch
Mornings after when hes had too much
Kiss him gently when he cuddled near
Give him babies one for evry year, so you see
I dont want him, you can have him
You can have him, I dont want him
For hes not the man for me
[monique:]
You can have him
I dont want him
Hes not worth fighting for
Besides theres plenty more where he came from
I dont want him
You can have him
He isnt my concern
And he can just return where he came from
I would look a trifle silly
Taking him away from you
That was never my intention
All I ever wanted to do was
Close the window while he soundly slept
Raid the icebox where the food is kept
Cook a breakfast that would please him most
Eggs and coffee and some buttered toast
Wake him gently with a breakfast tray
After breakfast clear the things away
Bring the papers and when theyve been read
Spend the balance of the day in bed, so you see
I dont want him, you can have him
You can have him, I dont want him
For hes not the man for me
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Can Have Him
[maizie:]
You can have him
I dont want him
Hes not worth fighting for
Besides theres plenty more where he came from
I dont want him
You can have him
Im giving him the sack
And he can go right back where he came from
I could never make him happy
Hed be better off with you
Im afraid I never loved him
All I ever wanted to do was
Run my fingers thru his curly locks
Mend his underwear and darn his socks
Fetch his slippers and remove his shoes
Wipe his glasses when he read the news
Rub his forehead with a gentle touch
Mornings after when hes had too much
Kiss him gently when he cuddled near
Give him babies one for evry year, so you see
I dont want him, you can have him
You can have him, I dont want him
For hes not the man for me
[monique:]
You can have him
I dont want him
Hes not worth fighting for
Besides theres plenty more where he came from
I dont want him
You can have him
He isnt my concern
And he can just return where he came from
I would look a trifle silly
Taking him away from you
That was never my intention
All I ever wanted to do was
Close the window while he soundly slept
Raid the icebox where the food is kept
Cook a breakfast that would please him most
Eggs and coffee and some buttered toast
Wake him gently with a breakfast tray
After breakfast clear the things away
Bring the papers and when theyve been read
Spend the balance of the day in bed, so you see
I dont want him, you can have him
You can have him, I dont want him
For hes not the man for me
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lost Sun (African song)
Police herd the helpless through Landrover doors.
Soldiers mount women like dogs on all fours.
Children bear parents, shot down in the road.
How can the Sun be so terribly cold?
Maize fields abandoned, eaten by flames.
Mud walls destroyed, villages without names.
Livestock run free, the kraal gates cannot hold.
Who left the shivering Sun to the cold?
Breakfast plates empty, stores with no supplies.
Noon, vacant desks, hunger in pupils' eyes.
This was the New Dawn, for breaking the mould.
How rose the Sun so unbearably cold?
Grass was preserved by communal rotation
Wildlife conserved by decrees of the nation.
Watered, watched over by Sun-Gods of old.
Now who saves the African Sun from the cold?
poem by Frank Bana
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Making Breakfast - a study in consciousness
Breakfast. Slick operation. You could
make it in your sleep..
you’ve refined the quantities,
the cooking and the timing
like a pro..
and eating it – you’re even more
brilliant at that – you can
eat breakfast, read the paper,
listen to the radio or tv,
half listen to the wife and kids,
make and take those cellphone calls;
then bestow a salty bacon,
sweet marmaladey kiss on several lips
or cheeks – and off..
But today something gotten to you:
the sun is shining; all’s well with the world;
this isn’t Monday breakfast, this is
Saturday breakfast…
You find yourself making breakfast
as if you’d never made it in your life before;
you hear the cereal on its way
from the packet to the bowl;
smell the coffee before drinking it;
never has the toast been browner, crisper,
eggs more eggy, tomatoes so.. well, tomatoey;
sweet meeting salt in tasting mouth..
the world’s made new today; and
somehow, you feel as if
you know that much more about yourself;
some sure sense of direction
seems to fill your heart and mind;
you’re on good terms with
the Creation as of now.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Delicious Concoctions
Sweet, delicious concoctions
How delightful it is to see
Brought together by the platefuls
Just for you and me
Sticky and delightful
Chocolate of every color
Ah yes, Valentine’s Day
It is a holiday like no other
Forget about the diet
Just for about a day
For celebrating this holiday
Candy is usually the way
Brownies are delicious too
And such a joy to eat
Once again fill your plate
Of these awesome delicious treats
For Valentine’s Day is only
A once a year event
I can’t think of a better way
For my day to have been spent!
poem by Marilyn Lott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sugar-Plums
No, no, pretty sugar-plums! stay where you are!
Though my grandmother sent you to me from so far;
You look very nice, you would taste very sweet,
And I love you right well, yet not one will I eat.
For the poor slaves have labour'd, far down in the south,
To make you so sweet and so nice for my mouth;
But I want no slaves toiling for me in the sun,
Driven on with the whip, till the long day is done.
Perhaps some poor slave child, that hoed up the ground,
Round the cane in whose rich juice your sweetness was found,
Was flogg'd, till his mother cried sadly to see,
And I'm sure I want nobody beaten for me.
So grandma, I thank you for being so kind,
But your present, to-day, is not much to my mind;
Though I love you so dearly, I choose not to eat
Even what you have sent me by slavery made sweet.
Thus said little Fanny, and skipp'd off to play,
Leaving all her nice sugar-plums just where they lay,
As merry as if they had gone in her mouth,
And she had not cared for the slaves of the south.
poem by Elizabeth Margaret Chandler from Poetical Works (1836)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Strawberry Affair
A red
ripe
delicious
plump
strawberrydipped
in
chocolate
topped with
whipped
cream
waiting
to be
eaten
delectable.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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