Seduced
Cheerios with bursting cinnamon dust,
Over sliced banana in a bowl of soy milk,
Breakfast is served.
Succulent sautéed shrimp over angel hair,
With melting mozzarella in a white plate,
Lunch is served.
Romaine spinach dressed with vinegarette,
Cherry tomatoes, raisins, pineapple cubes,
Dinner is served.
Then she sensed creamy caramel macchiato,
That’s calling for her not too far from home,
Starbucks is there.
Amaretto Cheesecake with Madeliene Crust,
Staring at her in an eyeful blast of seduction,
She checked in.
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The 'Potato' Poem
I love potatoes chopped up into chunky chips.
I love spicy potato wedges, served up with dips.
I love potato slices which have been fried in a pan:
Of sautéed potatoes, I am the world's biggest fan.
I love potatoes which have been pummelled and bashed
With butter and milk to make a real light, fluffy mash.
Jacket potatoes, I find a bit dry, but with a nice filling
Such as chilli, to give them a try, I am more willing.
With breakfast, I love hash browns or potato cakes,
And I love potatoes mixed up with leeks in a bake.
Crispy, golden potatoes, served up with Sunday roast
Are among the kinds of potato which I love the most.
Mixed in soups and casseroles, I love potatoes diced.
On top on minced beef hotpot, I love potatoes sliced.
Fluffy potato stuffed inside a crispy potato croquette
Is also rather nice, and, for me, it is another safe bet.
I love potatoes cut into crisps: the slices, wafer thin,
And, as a starter, I simply love loaded potato skins:
I do adore a delicious dish of Bombay potato curry:
For me, it is a taste which I won't forget in a hurry.
I like potatoes diced up with creamy mayonnaise,
Served up with salad on really hot summer days.
But I don't like potatoes which have been boiled:
From potatoes, cooked this way, in horror, I recoil.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Three Wives Of A Mandarin
Lawful wife.
There is still some wine left in the chalice,
And the plate that’s served is nests of the swallows.
Since the birth of time, the legal spouse
Is respected by her mandarin-husband.
Concubine
There is still some wine left in the chalice,
And the plate is served – duck: fat and heavy;
Should a mandarin be deprived of children -
Concubine is needed for a mandarin.
Maid
There is still some wine left in the chalice,
And the plate is served - preserves and marmalade.
Why the two of you are in his house?
Every night a new woman he desires.
Mandarin
There is no more wine left in the chalice,
And the plate that’s served is hot red pepper.
Silence! O you: bunch of silly blabbers,
Dare you laughing at the poor old mandarin.
poem by Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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European Food
Europe.
One massive buffet of savory food.
Warm, large flattened crepes
Served with Nutella on the Avenue des Champs Élysées,
And hand-sized rectangular sugar cookies
Sheltered by chocolate and
Decorated with an image of a skateboarder.
Germany carries the sweet apple tea
Warm, salty pretzels and caramel coffee.
Plain yogurt for breakfast, thick and creamy
At first tasting sour
But when mixed with crisp, sweet muesli
It is most satisfying
Italians know ice cream.
The refreshing, velvety gelato
Is displayed in mountainous forms at the shop
Flavors of chocolate, grapefruit, and even pistachio
Are served in a child’s cone tasting of a wafer
from church communion.
The narrow concrete roads of Prague
Sell cylinder tubes of baked dough
Bathed in crystals of golden sugar.
Caramelized crunchy nuts are
Sold in a vibrant red paper cone
And served with milk thick enough to chew.
And while the most fantastic food resides in Europe,
American remains the most obese.
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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Cork and Sip
Sausage.
Beef and sautéed.
With a bit of soy sauce.
Bedded with sliced onions...
And green pepper.
Wrapped in foil.
Tin,
I prefer.
Baked in a preheated oven,
At 350 degrees.
And left for at least one half hour.
Then served with garden grown tomatos.
Appetize yourself with this.
Remove the cork and sip...
On your White Zinfandel!
'OH...
How could I forget the dashing of brown sugar?
Do it...
If you dare new sensations! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blood shared
Blood shared / mmm, served on romantic dinner / bo'friend, gil'friend starving as if donated. / thick as they were /in their hands fock n knife were, /in dark like ghost they were /the way they wear /you can't recognise what they were. /frozen like red-frozen yougurt /served as disert /expensiv they were. /crime so high currently /like Zim currency. /thee gil'friend knowing not where the blood from. / at other room / gil'friend sister lying there soulessly / as her blood served on romantic dinner dish. /bo'friend neva introduced to soulsister. /yet the blood they shared
poem by Stephen Raseona
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Make No Attempt to Compliment
When the initiative is taken,
To inflict upon another heartbreak.
Expect to feel the remnants of it.
Or see bits and pieces served upon a plate.
Eat it.
With a hopeful wish...
There has been an invitation,
To taste dessert.
And what has been served,
Has been deserving.
And a forgiveness forthcoming,
Will be mutually delicious.
If expectations are there and desired,
To again share the same menu!
If not...
Make no attempt to compliment.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Wife
You adopted my home as yours.
I deserted your home forever.
You cooked for me and served me.
You mothered my children.
You served as a waiter for me.
You wore gold and silks for me.
I own all that is yours.
You own all as mine.
No traces will have survived in your name.
Everything stays as my legacy.
Yes, wife is a martyr of the adopted home.
04.09.2002
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Korean Staring Shrimp
Ok theres this girl from korea who made my family dinner once
And she made a traditional rice dish
And I am not big on the whole shrimp and mushroom thing
But I look into my bowl and there are shrimp staring at me! ! !
With those huge dead eyes,
and mushrooms crouching in the depths of the rice readuy to pounce! ! !
I stared right back at those shrimp,
and I crouched away from the mushrooms!
I took my sppon, and I thrust it into the bowl
with as must thrust as possible.
And I had that little glint you know of anger and madness in my eye
and i shoved THREE shrimp in my mouth,
and FOUR mushrooms!
I heard them SCREAM! !
And I clamped my deadly grasp on their necks and i bit and chewed, and ripped, and I SWALLOED! ! !
With all the might I had....... and I found something out.....
..................................... ....................................
IT WAS GOOD! ! ! ! ! !
poem by Bethany Maxwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Books
Sizzling thoughts
Baked in burning skulls
Sliced and served
In salvers white,
Before starving minds!
poem by Valsa George
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My Favourite Food
Here are some meals, which I really love to eat,
When, at the dinner table, I take my seat.
Lasagne served with a slice of garlic bread,
Is one of my real favourites, it has to be said.
Chunky chips and a tender gammon steak –
A really lovely meal for me, this would make.
Chilli con carne, served with pilau rice,
I also consider to be really rather nice.
A deep pan pizza, especially chicken supreme,
Is guaranteed to set my hungry eyes agleam.
Chicken of any kind, especially southern fried,
Is always a big hit with me, it can’t be denied.
Another of my favourites, is all-day brunch –
On this popular dish, I very often munch.
Britain’s favourite dish, bangers and mash,
I’m always extremely willing to give a bash.
Given lashings of sausage casserole,
I’m guaranteed to scrape my bowl.
I simply love a really good Indian curry,
And will gobble one up in quite a hurry.
The thought of a delicious mixed grill,
Always gives me such a real thrill.
And lovely, tender lamb chops,
For me, are pretty hard to top.
But, cooked to perfection, a Sunday roast,
Is the meal that I really love the most!
So, now here’s a selection of puds,
Which I consider to really rather good.
All of these are lovely and sweet,
And always go down an absolute treat!
At the offer of any fruit crumble,
You will never hear me grumble.
In a slice of gooey, chocolate fudge cake,
I’m always more than happy to partake.
And luscious, creamy tiramisu,
Is one of my favourites to.
A scoop of any flavour of ice cream,
Always goes down an absolute dream.
Offered a bowl of thick, creamy rice,
I wouldn’t need to be asked twice.
Of puddings with lashings of jam,
I’ve always been a particular fan.
At the sight of a fresh strawberry trifle,
My excitement, I have to try and stifle.
A slice of lemon meringue pie,
You will never see me pass by.
I adore hot, sticky, gooey, treacle tart,
It’s a pud which always warms my heart.
Chocolate, cream filled, profiteroles,
Are always guaranteed to fill a hole.
A toffee nut sundae, served in a tall glass,
Is a sweet which I consider to be pure class.
A pastry pie, with any fresh fruit filling,
For me, has always been rather thrilling.
If I was served up any of these, I’d be thrilled,
Even if I was sat right in the middle of a field!
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Breakfast In Malaysian Stalls
Listening to the radio DJs,
Driving through the traffic
This match is quite all right,
When these guys poke fun,
At one another and with public,
The sun is just awake,
Chasing the darkened thoughts,
Bright yellow spike, so soft,
The arrival of another morning,
As the windows start to open,
To allow the fresh air in,
The smell of freshly brewed coffee,
Fragrant coconut rice with fried anchovies,
Sliced cucumber, sambal and egg,
That is served under the cool trees.
The early birds drive to these haunt,
To have their breakfast,
Under the pleasant sun,
The breeze move around them,
To bring the heaven to earth,
Young and old, rich and poor,
Everyone wants to sit in the open air,
To have their breakfast and dinner,
On this land, where my mother was born,
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Dinner
i see how loneliness opens its mouth
and swallows you whole
there is this dinner
and you are
what is served to its hunger
and thirst and you do not even make a sound
when you are gone
into the deepest throat
of emptiness
there is no sound
there is only the willingness to be lost
and to be forgotten
loneliness ate you for dinner
and i will be its breakfast tomorrow morning
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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General Christiaan De Wet At Doornberg
(after David Naude)
In the dust lay de Wet's son;
he prayed to God, further did not say a word,
traitors came under a white flag,
spied for the British before the battle;
it was very sad to see
while a brave man served his country.
On his hands was his own son's blood
but he still gave courage to his men
causing the British and traitors to loose,
driving them back over the Zant River
winning more fame in the world's eyes
while a brave man served his country.
The British had fled past Winburg
to avoid general de Wet's commando,
some of the traitors were very scared
when the Boer commando captured them;
in de Wet's eyes God was still providing,
while a brave man served his country.
[Reference: 'Die slag van Doornberg' ('The battle at Doornberg' by David Naude.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Banana Bread-Baked and Buttered
I recently discovered,
I was quick banana fed.
Having one sliced in cereal.
One in a milkshake.
And a few to make banana bread.
I guess the potassium agrees with me.
When I eat one on the street.
Preferring that treat over candied sweets.
And a vitamin I need...
Like C, D, E and the B's.
While trying to avoid the calories,
As I strip one and dip it...
Into creamy chocolate.
I recently discovered,
I was quick banana fed.
Having one sliced in cereal.
One in a milkshake.
And a few to make banana bread.
Baked and buttered,
With no crumbs spared!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sliced Bread
Sliced bread...
Whole wheat and toasted.
Buttered with jam,
And munched.
Either with tea, punch...
Or just plain water for lunch!
Sliced bread...
With cheddar cheese and tomato.
Add Romaine lettuce,
Topped with fried strips of bacon.
This too will certainly do.
Sliced bread...
Oatmeal raisin,
Oven baked and fed.
Sliced bread...
Crumbed to stuff a turkey.
And seasoned to gobble...
With an aftertaste on the tongue,
Deliciously nutmeged!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Around The Island
the trip around the island
takes us a day
it is dark and we are back
at this beach resort
lighted by shells and
torches
dinner is served
prawns, and crabs
and some lamb's meat
from the farm
and some slices of
pineapple
again, so sweet
to my tongue
crunchy to my teeth
beside you
the music from the sea
the breeze plays our songs
of silence
that only our eyes speak
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I have voted to make tough decisions in budgetary times, I've served on two recessionary budgets, my opponent has never served on any a budget committee where there was less money to spend than the year before.
quote by Matt Gonzalez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Salad to Eat
Different hues...
Some not as bright but invites,
Those who come to eat eagerly
With an assorted presentation
That might satisfy an appetite.
With tomatoes and carrots,
Sliced apples and grapes...
Romaine lettuce sprinkled with chives
Topped with olive oil and vinegar,
Is a treat to see on a plate to delight...
And surprise.
Onions and green peppers,
Can please the eye with sensation.
When someone announces...
'I prefer a salad to eat! '
And they do without a moment's hesitation!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pelican Restaurant
Pelican Restaurant is run by Tara Sami who is sweet,
she makes her restaurant cute and upbeat.
A cozy decor that has a quaint beach town feel,
the Pelican Restaurant makes great delicious meals.
For breakfast is the Lamb Keema which has a flavorful taste,
it comes with home fries that taste great.
Have a spinach omelet made by Chef Brian Stone,
tastes hearty like cooked fresh in the kitchen at your home.
Pelican is open 7am to 12 noon, bring a friend or two.
Even open 6 to 10 on Friday nights with Indian plates to satisfy your appetite.
Indian dishes which is out of sight, like the Lentil fritters for price of $7.95,
served with cilantro & jalapeno sauce, making your tastes buds come alive.
Try the slowly roasted marinated cilantro and ginger on the Nihan beef shank.
cooked on the bone with spicy savory curry to make it taste great.
Vegetarian and meat dishes served with yogurt, naan, and basmati rice,
this adds to your dinner to make it extra nice.
Also your dog is welcome, sit with them at a table outside,
you can enjoy your meal with them in the sunshine.
Remember the Pelican restaurant only accepts cash,
it's a great eating experience when visiting on Lake Ave.
Written By Suzae Chevalier on October 13,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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