Evening Restaurant
The evening heaven’s restaurant activates, you’re among the last
Who line up outside, making discoveries with food in the mouth,
I’d go slow on the fritters cooked from days and nights in experience
Paid by the engineers of food, a real motley crew.
Jump a few million years ahead, all because of the husband,
Then trek to pursue an animal of a larger variety
As big as our dog, the very wonderful diplomatic creature.
Nostalgic for the years when you certainly paid for the best,
We talk and converse in the signs of an alien animal or spirit,
Finding food fun since the year out.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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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Envy
The Envy
They do not pay me well, in this café, where
I work, so I take a little food home and drink
a little wine, when I can, because all the chefs
I read about make much more money than me.
When a big shot, in the world of finance, gets
paid a million in bonus, he takes it but grumble
for in his circle, he knows no one who are paid
less then this, but many who are paid more
When I get my pension after cooking food for
fifty years, it will not be much and I know of
no one who get less than me, but plenty who
receive much more and that makes me bitter.
But it’s sweet to know that those who make
more money than me are rancorous too ‘cause
they know of many very rich people who have
much more money than they have.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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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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Hunger, The Pang
Our mother earth gives
For one good grain sown
Hundreds of fresh grains
For our food in return.
How many sweet fruits
For a life time she gives
For one seed she takes
As one tree it grows?
Any animal on the land
Or any bird on the air
For its morrow's food
Does it take all the care?
For the food on the ground
How a crow makes a sound
Of 'caw' to call crows around
Just to share what it found?
When big cooked rice balls
An elephant in its mouth takes
A part of it on the floor spills
That feeds hundreds of ants.
But when a have on this earth
For his self, the food he hoards,
Doesn't the have-not's mouth
Go unfed for days countless?
The food in a pompous feast
A junk of it goes as rubbish.
If this goes to the poor atleast
Will that not fulfill God's wish?
The worst pain in the world
Is what the hunger gives
But this can be solved
If all follow the crows.
poem by Rajaram Ramachandran
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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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Wild Animals
When you look at wild animals
they are breathtaking,
so pure and natural.
If the animal looks you in the eyes
you can feel connected.
If the animal walks up to you
takes food from your hand,
you can feel trust.
When the animal keeps returning
for food,
you can feel needed.
By mistake
you take the animal home,
you can feel complete.
Time goes on
you look into the animals eyes,
you can feel sadness.
Knowing that
you have to return the animal to the wild,
you can feel loss.
When you let the animal go,
it runs!
Food for Everyone
Sellers of food have a huge price,
And they eat from them from advice.
The restaurant is a race for the food,
A beautiful place for the meat barbecued.
I like the eating to be done in a fantastic place,
Where I love the taste in my head, no disgrace.
Love anything but do not eat the forbidden fruit,
So horrid it is of the devil to say, but we must be astute.
It is poverty that hides the food from poor people,
It is not the poor people who taste a life admirable.
Sellers of food must be paid, and poor is the person
Who can not afford, so he can not eat, unless he is in heaven.
Heaven is a place for food and drink,
Drink I take and health I doublethink.
Heaven has a drink for me.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Food For Everything!
Meals are the food for the body;
Knowledge is the food for the mind;
Meditation is the food for the spirit;
Music is the food for the love of heart;
Dreams are the food for the consciousness;
Prayer is the food for the Almighty;
Love is the food for the living heart;
Thoughts are the food for the brain;
Colourful ink is the food for the pen;
Ideas are the food for the stories;
Truth is the food for the will;
Sun’s energy is the food for the plants;
Plants are the food for the living beings;
But one man’s food is another man’s poison!
poem by Ramesh T A
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
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Animal Boy
Gonna kill and destroy
I'm not an Animal Boy
Why don't they understand
I'm not an ape man
Don't have brain damage
I'm not an a wild savage
Don't push me around
Don't bring my head down
Animal Boy
Animal Boy
Animal Boy
I'm not an imbecile
Don't treat me like an animal
I'm not a creature in the zoo
Don't tell me what to do
Animal Boy
Animal Boy
Animal Boy
You don't know what it's like
You don't know how I feel
I don't have a monkey's brain
I'm not an animal
You can't lock me in a cage
This ain't the Stoneage
Better get out of my way
Someone's gonna have to pay
Animal boy
Animal boy
Animal boy
Animal boy
song performed by by Ramones from Animal Boy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Recipe
For love I design the name of wondrous nature,
I love its wondrous age, the animal inside;
Offering a man his peeling of fruit and vegetables,
A cook is designing new food for heavy consumption.
The cooking is simple, and plates are filled with heaven-
On that is regard for taste, on this is peace and bliss.
Joke on him, the big chef, who dearly paid for mistakes,
Oiling the pan with more food and spreading special
Ingredients, like there was an illegal clue
Of beauty.
I love that recipe, that wondrous name that smelt of heaven.
poem by Naveed Akram
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
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How Many Years
How many years
before the rain
never falls
How many years
before the wind
never blows
How many years
Before the food
is all gone
and the animal chain
disappears
How many years
before the sun glows
and burns an hole
in us all
How many years
before we
destroy the world
poem by Dave Alan Walker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If I Could
If I could make my living going fishing
Then I would make my living with a line and pole
Put food on the table pay the money to the landlord
Buy some working clothes
Cause I aint making money going fishing like Im paid at the factory
If I could pay all these bills with my guitar
Then I would pay these bills with some rock and roll
Put food on the table pay the money to the landlord
Buy some working clothes
Cause I aint making money playing guitar like Im paid at the factory
Chorus:
Now if I could (if I could)
Then I would (then I would)
Make money doing something that I love
Id thank my lucky stars above
If I could just get by loving you dear
Then I would just get by making love to you
Put food on the table pay the money to the landlord
Buy some working clothes
Cause I aint making money making love
Like Im paid at the factory
Repeat chorus:
If I could make my living going fishing
Then I would make my living with a line and pole
Put food on the table pay the money to the landlord
Buy some working clothes
Cause I aint making money going fishing
Like Im paid at the factory
Repeat chorus:
If I could just get by loving you dear
Then I would just get by making love to you
Put food on the table pay the money to the landlord
Buy some working clothes
Cause I aint making money making love
Like Im paid at the factory
Put food on the table pay the money to the landlord
Buy some working clothes
Cause I aint making money making love
Like Im paid at the factory
Put food on the table pay the money to the landlord
Buy some working clothes
Cause I aint making money making love
Like Im paid at the factory
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some Names
Any ants that lie here are refused by some,
The approval of a fruit created and amused some.
This angle is among the rich and famous,
Like the advertisements they have accused some.
Attacks rapidly attempt hearts to enrich and master,
Underneath the learning of our soul so confused by some.
This animal of an apparatus we justify in this season
Creates us as from scratch, we are bruised by some.
Let the alcohol wear off and entice the food-admirers,
When less alcohol wants more food instead abused by the some.
May we cruelly talk and converse to extract teeth too bitter,
Such is creation in six days, such is the name I mused from some.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vangie's Cuisine...
Food, food, food…Vangie’s food…
You can find them in FACE BOOK
Mouthwatering cuisine of Filipinos food
Let’s get together and have a look…..
Pretty Vangie is the cook
Using delicate hand to cook the food
Her expertise is out of this world
Nothing can beat her skills of food….
I look at it everyday
To see what’s the menu for today
Tummy now that was once empty
Is now full of what she cooked for that day! ! ! !
-xxx-
poem by Rachel Hill
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Food is god
Food is god
for poor people...!
God is not
Only food...
Rich home
Dog is eat
Nice food...
That food is god...?
yes that also
A god...
Good food is
God...
What is good food...?
Given good health
Always good food...
So...
Non veg
Or veg...
Every good food
Is god...
Simply sit
Silentely eat food
With out hot
And cool drinks...
Food is not only
Poor's god...
With each and
Every one also
food is god...
Give respect and
Take food...
Happley too try too
Thank for god...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Inefficient World Food Production Distribution
food waste
one country
say old Italy
800 million tonnes
of fruit picked sold
from fruit trees
750 million tonnes
left to rot
never picked
every year
market price
market fixed
market profit
not worth picking
costs more picking
than sold price paid
what a waste?
millions die wanting
millions die starving
millions die hurting
in an inefficient world?
now it is raining
luxury fruits
cherries peaches
blemish on trees
never sold
never eaten
never saves lives
harvest
process
serves
still in old Italy
20 million tones
spoils to market
more money paid
waste paid collected
paid in dump charges
can we not do better?
Italy is but one country
waste in global community
sickens sweet bull commodity
in an electronic age
can we not do better
reduce waste food
shortage shame deficiencies?
China India hungry markets
2.5 billion people droughts floods
increasing phenomena purchases
on global markets now
are undermining food
global world prices now
world’s poorest farmers
are key to deficit farmers’ food
production improvement
efficiency management is key
rising food demand increases
on a waste finite land planet
time for think
tank
needed solutions?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Campfire Meal
There is nothing like a meal
From a flaming hot campfire
It cooks the kind of food
For which you’ll never tire
A slow cooked smoky brisket
The best you ever got
Along with homemade biscuits
Cooked right in a iron pot
The beans are so hot and spicy
Your taste buds will yell hooray
The food is so delicious
I don’t know just what to say
The sweet corn and potatoes
Are cooked on the campfire too
Grab a plate and get in line
That’s just what you want to do
It’s the cowboy way of cooking
I’ll grab some firewood
Join us at the Rockin L & H
Where nothing else tastes as good!
poem by Marilyn Lott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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