Hurried judgment, curried thought
‘Animal sacrifice in Kali temples
and in Durga shrines is a disgrace! –
this is pagan savagery and
a shame to our pure souls!
*
(Please excuse the yellow smear
of chicken tikka on this screen;
chicken from a factory farm
that led a miserable life..
these lines were written in
righteous anger, and just after
a delicious Hindu meal.)
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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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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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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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52
father kills the black chicken
and marks a cross of blood
on the temple of the birthday celebrant
he claims life is a matter of sacrifice
a chicken dressed for something
The blood from the neck
of the chicken gushes forth
there is silence in this
bloody ritual
between father and son
inside both of them they
hold that the spirits understand
how they must be appeased
from all ills and bad luck
the son must be protected
a father then washes the knife
that killed the black chicken
he is ready to kill someday
somehow when
another human being just in case
kills a son, that brute that base.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Dressed Chicken
father kills the black chicken
and marks a cross of blood
on the temple of the birthday celebrant
he claims life is a matter of sacrifice
a chicken dressed for something
The blood from the neck
of the chicken gushes forth
there is silence in this
bloody ritual
between father and son
inside both of them they
hold that the spirits understand
how they must be appeased
from all ills and bad luck
the son must be protected
a father then washes the knife
that killed the black chicken
he is ready to kill someday
somehow when
another human being just in case
kills a son, that brute that base.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mamma's Baked Chicken And Rice
YOU DON'T KNOW HOW SPECIAL AND NICE
I FELT ABOUT MAMMA'S CHICKEN AND RICE
BUT FOR ME AT THE TIME IT WAS BEYOND PRICE
EVERY DAY MAMMA'S CHICKEN AND RICE
WHEN I WAS SICK AND NEEDED YOUR CARE
WITHOUT GATTING A LASH CHICKEN AND RICE WAS THERE
THE DOCTORS TOLD YOU BLAND, AND THAT WAS FINE BY ME
CHICKEN AND RICE MADE BLAND SPECIAL FOR ALL TO SEE
AT FIRST AFTER DAY'S OF HAVING THIS SERVED TO ME
I WAS PISSED AS HELL TILL I HAD A TALK WITH MY BUDDY
EVERY DAY HE'D COME OVER TO GET ME TO PLAY
AND HE'D SEE ME FINISHING MY CHICKEN AND RICE EVERY DAY
HE SAID THAT YOUR MOMMA MUST REALLY LOVE YOU
SHE MAKES THAT EVERY DAY, AND ON THE WEEK ENDS TO
SHE GOES IT SO QUICKLY AND IT SMELLS SO GOOD
YOUR MOMMA MUST REALLY LOVE, I WISH MY MOMMY WOULD
I LOOKED AT MY BUDDY AND SAW IN HIS FACE
THE TRUTH AND THE HONESTY ALL PLAIN IN PLACE
AND FROM THAT DAY FORWARD I SMILED WHUEN I HEARD
MY MOM CALL MY NAME TO COME EAT THOSE THREE WORDS
CHICKEN AND RICE, CHICKEN AND RICE I SAY
MY MOM MADE THE BEST, IN HER OWN SPECIAL WAY
WHEN EVER I AM FEELING WSPECIALLY NICE
I WOULD ALWAYS FIND AN EXCUSE TO HAVE CHICKEN AND RICE
SO MOMMA, YOU NEEDED TO JUST HERE ME SAY
I APPRECIATE THE LOVE THAT YOU GIVE ME EVERY DAY
AND THOUGH IT MAY SEEM LIKE I AM BEING UNKIND
IF SO, I'M JUST BEING FOOLISH AND MANIPULATIVE THAT TIME
YOU ALWAYS COULD BRING OUT THE BABY IN ME
AND FOR THAT AND THE CARING THIS POEM YOU DID SEED
THANK YOU MOM, DEAR LADY FOR ALL OF THE ABOVE
AND THE CHICKEN AND RICE AND THESE MEMORIES OF LOVE
poem by Talile Ali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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MAMMA'S BAKED CHICKEN AND RICE...by Talile Ali
YOU DON'T KNOW HOW SPECIAL AND NICE
I FELT ABOUT MAMMA'S CHICKEN AND RICE
BUT FOR ME AT THE TIME IT WAS BEYOND PRICE
EVERY DAY MAMMA'S CHICKEN AND RICE
WHEN I WAS SICK AND NEEDED YOUR CARE
WITHOUT GATTING A LASH CHICKEN AND RICE WAS THERE
THE DOCTORS TOLD YOU BLAND, AND THAT WAS FINE BY ME
CHICKEN AND RICE MADE BLAND SPECIAL FOR ALL TO SEE
AT FIRST AFTER DAY'S OF HAVING THIS SERVED TO ME
I WAS PISSED AS HELL TILL I HAD A TALK WITH MY BUDDY
EVERY DAY HE'D COME OVER TO GET ME TO PLAY
AND HE'D SEE ME FINISHING MY CHICKEN AND RICE EVERY DAY
HE SAID THAT YOUR MOMMA MUST REALLY LOVE YOU
SHE MAKES THAT EVERY DAY, AND ON THE WEEK ENDS TO
SHE GOES IT SO QUICKLY AND IT SMELLS SO GOOD
YOUR MOMMA MUST REALLY LOVE, I WISH MY MOMMY WOULD
I LOOKED AT MY BUDDY AND SAW IN HIS FACE
THE TRUTH AND THE HONESTY ALL PLAIN IN PLACE
AND FROM THAT DAY FORWARD I SMILED WHUEN I HEARD
MY MOM CALL MY NAME TO COME EAT THOSE THREE WORDS
CHICKEN AND RICE, CHICKEN AND RICE I SAY
MY MOM MADE THE BEST, IN HER OWN SPECIAL WAY
WHEN EVER I AM FEELING WSPECIALLY NICE
I WOULD ALWAYS FIND AN EXCUSE TO HAVE CHICKEN AND RICE
SO MOMMA, YOU NEEDED TO JUST HERE ME SAY
I APPRECIATE THE LOVE THAT YOU GIVE ME EVERY DAY
AND THOUGH IT MAY SEEM LIKE I AM BEING UNKIND
IF SO, I'M JUST BEING FOOLISH AND MANIPULATIVE THAT TIME
YOU ALWAYS COULD BRING OUT THE BABY IN ME
AND FOR THAT AND THE CARING THIS POEM YOU DID SEED
THANK YOU MOM, DEAR LADY FOR ALL OF THE ABOVE
AND THE CHICKEN AND RICE AND THESE MEMORIES OF LOVE
poem by Talile Ali
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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September Chill.
Uncle brings in the dead chicken by
The neck and begins plucking out the
Feathers with a skill that fascinates
Your 10 year old eyes and as you stand
And watch the chicken gradually becomes
Nude and some how not so grand not so
Chicken-like and then Uncle cuts off the
Head and throws it a side and then guts
It and washes it through with water and
Then puts it down on a large plate where
It lays in a solemn silence without fanfare
Or hymns or prayers just Uncle lighting up
A cigarette and you staring at the chicken
Clean and pure and still and from the open
Window a cool evening late September chill.
poem by Terry Collett
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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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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The Last Stop
We had a wonderful time
When we visited Wichita, Kansas
What a good idea it was
And what a perfect day for us
We stopped for Stroud’s chicken
And you really wouldn’t believe
The delicious food we ordered
And the great service we received
The salads were not only tasty
But beautiful for us to see
Fresh and so delicious
How ideal it was for me
Chicken brown and so crispy
And yet tender and juicy inside
Why, it just couldn’t have been better
With fresh green beans on the side
So, if you are hungry for food
That will definitely hit the spot
Just ask and I’ll give you directions
Directions that you’ll be glad you got!
poem by Marilyn Lott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dear Animal
Dear Animal,
Cow, chicken, pig, or horse
I'm sorry for what our race has done,
I wish you had a voice.
Slit open, smashed, and burned alive
Seems like humans
have no heart
We sit together eating you,
Not knowing what had
been done.
I'm sorry to the skinny pig who's head was smashed against a floor,
I'm sorry to the chicken that was skinned and burned alive,
And I'm sorry to the cow
That's hanging upside down with it's stomach cut open.
That's a horrible way to die,
And an even worse way to live,
Just wishing to be free.
So think the next time you eat meat,
Of a helpless animal screaming,
'Help me! ! '
poem by Zora Watters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dave’s Restaurant
Smell of sizzling steak in the air,
people talking and laughing everywhere.
Football game on big flat screen t.v.s,
fans watching and screaming happily,
while eating hot Grilled Worth Wings.
You can order Buffalo chicken, shrimp or gator,
you can order hand cut fries or side of taters.
Dave’s has pastas with or without fish,
he even has the Islamorada fish sandwich.
Now Dave’s has a bar with cool looking stools,
you can order beer or a smoothie to stay cool.
Kid’s can even have a bite to eat,
Dave’s has kid’s menu with chicken tenders and grilled cheese.
Captain Morgan Burger, steaks and fajitas are great,
Prime rib, Mojo Pork Platter are a delicious plate.
When downtown walking on Lake Ave.,
Stop at Dave’s Restaurant for the fresh food you can have.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on October 15,2011
www.puppetpoems.com
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Animal Farm
This world is big and wild and half insane
Take me where real animals are playing
Just a dirty old shack
Where the hound dogs bark
That we called our home
I want to be back there
Among the cats and dogs
And the pigs and the goats
On animal farm
My animal home
On animal farm
My animal home
While I lay my head upon my pillow
Little girl, come play beneath my window
Though shes far from home
She is free from harm
And she need not fear
She is by my side
And the sky is wide
So let the sun shine bright
On animal farm
My animal home
On animal farm
My animal home
Girl, its a hard, hard world, if it gets you down
Dreams often fade and die in a bad, bad world
Ill take you where real animals are playing
And people are real people not just playing
Its a quiet, quiet life
By a dirty old shack
That we called our home
I want to be back there
Among the cats and dogs
And the pigs and the goats
On animal farm
My animal home
On animal farm
My animal home
On animal farm
Animal farm
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Economy Has Been Officially Saved
AND...
The winner is,
The winner IS...
Drumroll please!
The Winner...
IS,
The chicken.
'Whew.
That's a relief.
Sir?
There are a multiple array,
Of choice chicken.
Which chicken won,
As the best chicken to be served...
In the halls of our illustrious government.
Was it the fried? '
No.
But,
You are close.
'Oh?
So it was the baked.'
Nooo...
But you don't know how close you're getting.
'OH?
Well.
It just has to be the Bar-b-qued?
That's great news.
We were so afraid,
Our representatives would choose...'
The General TSO?
That's the one selected.
AND...
There will be free cooking lessons,
And recipes for all!
With immediate language lessons added,
To boot!
We are so tremendously happy,
To make this announcement.
Our economy,
Has been officially saved!
We've been blessed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chop The Cat Up
Filipino people the cat is already dead
So all you will have to do is chop the cat up
And cook it for dinner
Trust me it will be a lovely dinner
Because cat taste just like chicken
And if you love chicken you will love cat
The same way that you love chicken
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The bush fowl saw the chicken being carved up and laughed. The chicken told the bush fowl to stop laughing. For the same hands now carving up the chicken would be used to carve up the bush fowl.