Watching My Weight
Cakes and pies, you tempt me so
And homemade candies too, you know
I'm trying to watch what I eat
Holidays coming, such a treat
Watching my weight isn't fun
Aroma's from the kitchen, to the fridge I'll run
Coconut cream pies, are my weakness
Don't want to get fat, would cause such bleakness
So all along, I will have to suffer
Refraining from this, is certainly tougher
I walk alot and count my calories
I must refrain from these food galleries!
poem by Donna Nimmo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Temptation
Lick me said the ice cream,
swallow me right down.
I'm dying to delight your tongue
and make you nice and round.
Eat me said the cherry pies,
the big meringue, the choccy heart.
Don't ignore us cream cakes
or mince pies, or treacle tarts.
You know I'm giving you the eye
said apple pie, yes apple pie.
It hears my calls and sees my thighs
that temptress with a taste divine.
Oh I am lost all to my cost my
my waist expanding as I toss
which itsy bitsy treat to eat,
make me obese, oh help me please.
I'm on my knees, I need food police
poem by Ruth Walters
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The Pieman
I'd like to be a pieman, and ring a little bell,
Calling out, 'Hot pies! Hot pies to sell!'
Apple-pies and Meat-pies, Cherry-pies as well,
Lots and lots and lots of pies - more than you can tell.
Big, rich Pork-pies! Oh, the lovely smell!
But I wouldn't be a pieman if ...
I wasn't very well.
Would you?
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mind Your Calories!
Avoid extra calories;
Take no chance to turn obese;
Burn more calories in you;
Be active and joyful too.
Use the stairs and not the lift;
Exercise well, stay most fit;
Walk for health, some miles at dawn;
To do things the hard way- Learn.
Do your daily chores yourself;
Keep empty your fridge, food-shelf;
Enter house by the back-door;
Sit for less hours, walk some more.
Walk uphill whenev’r you can;
Eat less; work more for health, man;
Use the ramp, avoid plain floor;
Lazy mind makes life a bore.
Fast-foods, never take at all;
Eat lesser starch, consume dhal;
Drink more water if you can;
Work hard and stay healthy, man.
Extra food can poison you;
Fat lessens your life-span too;
Count your calories you take;
Life is worth-while, if you make!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-24-2007
poem by John Celes
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Fruit Together
A plum went to market
to buy some grapes,
everyone was was there
that day.
They didn't come
just to play.
Fruit was what
they needed most.
The apple came
to buy some pears,
Pears came to
buy some apples.
They ended up
buying each other.
What a fix,
so fruity was it.
Everyone went home
that day,
so they could all
make some fruit pies.
What a site this
was, seeing each
one making pies out,
of each other,
somehow pies
were made this
day, you ask
How was this done?
you figure it out,
I just wrote
the poem.
wrote 4-14-07
Ain't Nothing From The Past Coming Back
Not a 'what-if' in sight,
On the horizon in my mind.
Neither am I trying to find,
An 'I wonder'.
Today has much more relevance.
With something about it that can be changed...
If my movements within it persist as wished.
I live to correct my own steps within minutes,
Without preconditions.
I'm concentrating on that which I can do right now.
And letting the breath I breathe be experienced,
As it is to myself witnessed.
My eyes are open and I am kept ready to adjust.
Those wishing for the taste of grandma's cakes,
Cookies and homemade pies...
Are finding it hard to adapt to facts.
Ain't nothing from the past coming back...naturally!
However...
Maybe an habitual headache from a process is desired.
And one that welcomes an attachment loved when attacked.
From those unseen relatives living away long distance,
And coming to visit and admittedly missed.
Shouldering hopeful grievances to unload and stress to match.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Por El Suelo Y A Correr
Al suelo y a correr
Si tardas en volver
sujetalo a los pies
Ocultas el dolor
lo pintas de placer
consume corazon
Por el suelo y a correr
Tienes algo que esconder
Por el suelo y a correr
Sujetados a los pies
Buscas la opinion
En otra habitacion
En otra direccion
Sonrie un dia mas
Por tu libertad
Por una amistad
Por el suelo y a correr
Tienes algo que esconder
Por el suelo y a correr
Sujetados a los pies
Por el suelo y a correr
Tienes algo que esconder
Por el suelo y a correr
Sujetados a los pies
Por el suelo y a correr
Tienes algo que esconder
Por el suelo y a correr
Sujetados a los pies
Por el suelo y a correr
Tienes algo que esconder
Por el suelo y a correr
Sujetados a los pies
song performed by by Zurdok
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Golden Days
Honeyed baby kisses,
sweet warm baby breath,
chuckle bunny murmurs,
little frilly dress.
Roses in the garden,
Daddy mows the lawn
Baby's feeling sleepy,
we all watch her yawn.
Summer sun is shining,
holidays ahead.
Candyfloss and ice cream
running through my head.
Mother's in the kitchen
baking cakes for tea.
Chocolate cake for you,
Fresh cream scones for me.
Paddling pool for nanna
to dip her toes into.
Grandpa reads his paper
while sitting on the loo.
Dreamy times are over,
reality is here
but I can still remember
those days of yesteryear.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Inferiority Complex Involving Pork Pies
Why do you tell such awful pork pies?
All of us here can see through your lies,
If you once to the truth it would be a surprise,
But the Truth very often is a liar's disguise!
Perhaps you think you'll win our esteem,
We'll believe, after all, you're not what you seem,
We'll call you a hero, fulfilling your dream:
Wouldn't it be great if we fell for your scheme!
You'd better make peace with the person you are,
Try not to swagger when you walk to the bar,
Try not to boast about your second-hand car,
It's old and it's rusty and won't take you far!
It's a tragedy, really, that you feel so small,
You're short and you're puny and wish you were tall,
You'd like folk to come running whenever you call,
But when you cry out they don't notice at all!
Your trouble, my friend is the chip on your shoulder
Which seems to grow deeper as you get older,
You'd chat up the ladies if you felt bolder
But the smiles on their faces would turn a lot colder.
And it's all because of those silly pork pies,
The desire to be 'Someone' in everyone's eyes,
You've created an image that most people despise -
For God's sake stop telling such awful pork pies!
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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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
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Those Smart Young People
They scare alot.
Those smart young people.
Who seem to know more than they should,
When others do not.
They scare alot.
Those smart young people.
And instead of listening to them,
To get the knowledge that they've got...
We think their heads are much too hot.
And we,
Wish to believe that all children...
Learn from us our doings,
With a wish we approved.
And we,
Can not perceive that our children...
Have those messages for us,
Because that haven't lived a life...
That proves they know what it is like,
To...
Sacrifice and suffer.
And live a life that we had.
Feeling as if suckers.
And live a life that we had,
Trying to be tougher.
Wanting them to be the best!
But to us they just protest.
They scare alot.
Those smart young people.
Who seem to know more than they should,
When others do not.
And we,
Can not perceive that our children...
Have those messages for us,
Because that haven't lived a life...
That proves they know what it is like,
To...
Sacrifice and suffer.
And live a life that we had.
Feeling as if suckers.
And live a life that we had,
Trying to be tougher.
Wanting them to be the best!
But to us they just protest.
They hear from us what we've been through,
But they're not here to do that too!
Sacrifice and suffer.
And live a life that we had.
Feeling as if suckers.
And live a life that we had,
Trying to be tougher.
Wanting them to be the best!
But to us they just protest.
Wanting not to hear that mess,
Repeated.
Repeated.
Sacrifice and suffer.
And live a life that we had.
Feeling as if suckers.
And live a life that we had,
Trying to be tougher.
Wanting them to be the best!
But to us they just protest.
And...
That reason is,
Understood.
Yes...
The reason is,
Understood.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fair Fun!
The fair is one of the places
That you never ever tire of
You can walk around for hours
With the lovely blue sky above
You meet so many people
Old friends from school too
“Hey, how ‘ya doing? ”
They wave and yell at you
Displays are so much fun
Aren’t folks so ingenious?
Pies and cakes and cookies
With wonderful sweet ingredients
It’s summer time and I hope you
Enjoy while on the run
The exciting and yearly
Wonderful fair fun!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Motorway
Motorway food is the worst in the world,
Youve never eaten food like youve eaten on the motorway.
Motorway food is the worst in the world,
The coffee tastes weak and the cakes taste stale
And gasoline fumes are the worst to inhale,
Your stomach rolls over and your face turns pale.
Oh, that motorway livin,
Aint it a thrill to be so free, yeh.
Riding down the motorway,
Got to charge up my batteries,
Rest my seat, rest my eyes,
So tired, tired of livin, tired of livin this motorway livin.
Motorway tea is warm and wet,
The rain is a pouring and its four in the morning,
And its all I can get.
Youve never seen loos like motorway loos,
Thousands of people passing through,
Its enough to put you off of your motorway food.
Oh that motorway living,
Aint it a thrill to be so free, yeh.
Got to get away from
Cats eyes, cold meat pies,
Thousand on raft, cold french fries
So tired, tired of livin, tired of livin this motorway livin.
Motorway food is invariably fried,
It keeps me and feeds me and helps me survive.
Oh that motorway, aint it a thrill to be so free, yeh,
Riding down the motorway, cats eyes, cold meat pies
Thousand on raft, cold french fries,
So tired, tired of livin, tired of livin this motorway livin.
Motorway food is the worst in the world,
Youll never eat food like youve eaten on the motorway.
Motorway food is the worst in the world.
My stomachs upset and I dont feel well,
Gotta get my head down, stop for a while in a motorway hotel.
Mama oh mama, my dear suzi too,
This motorway message is sent just for you.
My headaches improved but my back really hurts,
I never thought Id travel so far to work.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chocolate Cherry
A sinful delight, melting slowly,
Hey, so what! Get heavy.......
Forget the weight, Forget the pound
Forget the calories, Who wants to count?
So sweet, so good, so light,
Can't keep it out of sight.
Layers and layers of ice-cream,
Like a Heavenly dream.
Flowing, gliding Chocolate cake Cherry,
Decadent, when they marry.
The I'd like to be........ series
The Sailor
I'd like to be a sailor - a sailor bold and bluff -
Calling out, "Ship ahoy!" in manly tones and gruff.
I'd learn to box the compass, and to reef and tack and luff;
I'd sniff and sniff the briny breeze and never get enough.
Perhaps I'd chew tobacco, or an old black pipe I'd puff,
But I wouldn't be a sailor if ...
The sea was very rough.
Would you?
The Porter
I'd like to be a porter, and always on the run,
Calling out, "Stand aside!" and asking leave of none.
Shoving trucks on people's toes, and having splendid fun,
Slamming all the carriage doors and locking every one -
And, when they asked to be let in, I'd say, "It can't be done."
But I wouldn't be a porter if ...
The luggage weighed a ton.
Would you?
The Pieman
I'd like to be a Pieman, and ring a little bell,
Calling out, "Hot pies! Hot pies to sell!"
Apple-pies and Meat-pies, Cherry-pies as well,
Lots and lots and lots of pies - more than you can tell.
Big, rich Pork-pies! Oh, the lovely smell!
But I wouldn't be a Pieman if ...
I wasn't very well.
Would you?
The Barber
I'd like to be a barber, and learn to shave and clip,
Calling out, "Next please! and pocketing my tip."
All day I'd hear my scissors going, "Snip, Snip, Snip;"
I'd lather people's faces, and their noses I would grip
While I shaved most carefully along the upper lip.
But I wouldn't be a barber if ...
The razor was to slip.
Would you?
The Teacher
I'd like to be a teacher, and have a clever brain,
Calling out, "Attention, please!" and "Must I speak in vain?"
I'd be quite strict with boys and girls whose minds I had to train,
And all the books and maps and things I'd carefully explain;
I'd make then learn the dates of kings, and all the capes of Spain;
But I wouldn't be a teacher if ...
I couldn't use the cane.
Would you?
The Postman
I'd like to be a postman, and walk along the street,
Calling out, "Good Morning, Sir," to gentlemen I meet,
Ringing every door-bell all along my beat,
In my cap and uniform so very nice and neat.
Perhaps I'd have a parasol in case of rain or heat;
But I wouldn't be a postman if ...
The walking hurt my feet.
Would you?
The Baker
I'd like to be a baker, and come when morning breaks,
Calling out, "Beeay-ko!" (that's the sound he makes) -
Riding in a rattle-cart that jogs and jolts and shakes,
Selling all the sweetest things a baker ever bakes;
Currant-buns and brandy-snaps, pastry all in flakes;
But I wouldn't be a baker if ...
I couldn't eat the cakes.
Would you?
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Homecoming Christmas
Written by ronnie rogers
A glowin fire and fallin snow, they spark a memory
Stockings hangin, mistletoe, presents beneath a tree
A happy boy wakin up to toys, lookin so surprised
And wondering how santa knew just when I closed my eyes
Chorus:
Its a homecoming christmas, goin back to where it all began
Homecoming christmas, I wanna be there once again
Memories do sweet and strong and Ive been done too long
Its christmas time and Im comin home
I can see the christmas tree and feel the warm fireplace
Handmade decorations, homemade pies and cakes
Family all together with so much love to share
A special time and I cant wait, cant wait to be there
Chorus
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm On A Diet
Oh body what have you done
I always fed you
Washed you
What is the meaning of this
You wanted fish and chips
You wanted pies
KFC McDonalds you got it
How could you do it to me
I gave up smoking for you
Bought bigger clothes
Worked out at the gym
You just ignored me
You grew hair on my back
My girth causes mirth
All saggy and fat
Now see what you get
No more McDonalds
Fish and chips or pies
All vegies and fruit
See how you like that
poem by Phil Smith
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It Is The Baker Who Takes The Heat
Everyone wants to get their taste,
Of that piece of delicious homemade pie.
Grandma 'use' to make!
But few have the credentials to apply,
And be accepted as the baker.
Since it is the baker who takes the heat,
If the number of pies are not baked to satisfy...
Those who just want to sit and eat and not sweat.
Yet feast.
To leave feeling they are entitled,
With their wishes and dreams...
Getting more impossible to meet.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Am Not A Good Husband
I am not a good husband
I am forced to say
because though I have loved
though I have sacrificed
and bent like a willow
and was sturdy as an oak
and learned to cook
and clean and sew
and raise children
and have been a nursemaid to the ill
and have been a jester
and a minstral
and have died
and was brought back to life
thought I've laughed and cried
built a strong house
mended the fences
painted the porches
and have installed the railings
baked cakes and pies
and made holidays bright
and through all this
I have never once felt loved
but still I can't face the sadness
of ending this
I'm afraid the thread that binds me together will break
but the truth is
I was broken long ago
and only remained strong for others
who did not realize or notice
now it is me who needs someone
I am not a good husband
poem by James T. Adair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Livin In The Fridge
Theres something weird in the fridge today
I dont know what it is
Food I cant recognize
My roommate wont throw a thing away
I guess its probably his
It looks like its alive...
And livin in the fridge... livin in the fridge
Livin in the fridge... livin in the fridge
Theres something dross in the fridge today
Its green and growin hair
Its been there since july
If you can name the object
In that baggie over there
Then mister, youre a better man than i
Its livin in the fridge
You cant stop (dysentary) the mold from growin (dysentary)
Livin in the fridge
Cant tell what (dysentary) it is at all (dysentary)
Livin in the fridge
You cant stop (dysentary) the mold from growin (dysentary)
Livin in the fridge
Tell me, do you think it should be carbon dated
Fumigated or creamated and buried at sea?
You try to save a little bit of youre home cookin
Couple weeks later, got a scary-lookin specimen
It always happens my friend
Again & again & again & again
Somethin stinks in the fridge today
And its been rottin there all week
It could be liver cake or wooly mammoth steak
Well, maybe I should another peek...
Livin in the fridge
You cant stop (dysentary) the mold from growin (dysentary)
Livin in the fridge
Cant tell what (dysentary) it is at all (dysentary)
Livin in the fridge
You cant stop (dysentary) the mold from growin (dysentary)
Livin in the fridge
Livin in the fridge
Dont know what it is, dont know what it is
Livin in the fridge
Dont know what it is, dont know what it is
Livin in the fridge
Dont know what it is at all
Livin in the fridge, yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fridge Love.
Sighs...
The anticipation of beloveds fridge door opens with an oh so sigh-worthy.....
PING! ! ! followed by her own generous....
Sigh
She knows i shall ravish her
She really does not mind
The heart pitter patters as the eyes forage
Bounty hunter.... bessie bunters
Eyes dance as bambi's legs
Through the forest of cheese and things that please
And the odd banana dregs
Then
Chocolate... Coca-cola, all things that
Doth so.... tease
(but im on... yet another diet) so not permitted to eat as i do so please
I hate my skinny family the ones for which i dote
For whom i loving fill said fridge
With things I'd so love to munch
but wont
My mind is starved my stomaches gutted
My soul is crushed and spat
Ill walk away with just
A
Lettuce leaf
Convince my self... that
It is tasty its just devine
It is my just dessert
And watch my child with a big ice-cream
Boy it dunn arf hurt.....
..............................
im a fridge stalker
a fridge stalker
with a well rounded bum
but after three kids and a few happy mo's
i look just like my mum
poem by Karen Sinclair
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