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My Food

My food created my feet to suffer walking about and around,
Is it some ingredient that astounds us? Does it require a compound?

poem by Naveed Akram
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A Letter To My Families.

It's compound though,
Irrespective of racism, tribalism and lots of culturistic value,
Indeed enormous in its adventurous reaction,
To see survival of the day.

It's compound though,
To have the time rolling and unstopped,
What exact is it by the watch,
The world wall clock as the case be?
What exact is it to the unborn ruled and its rulers?

It's compound though..
Happy is the reverences,
Happy is the life and lives,
A man, Woman or gods?
A spirit I owe.

It's compound though,
compound in depth of its unlimited,
Compound in depth of its wisdom,
Compound to celebrate its celebrities,
It's a start.

It's compound though,
To expose your world,
To expose my world,
To expose the world,
A start to many undivine,
A start to the unborn rulers,
It's compound though....
Avoid a kingdom's fight,
A letter to my families.

poem by Bunmi Orogun Samuel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walking In Memphis

Put on my blue suede shoes
And I boarded the plane
Touched down in the land of the Delta Blues
In the middle of the pouring rain
W.C. Handy - won't you look down over me
Cause I got a first-class ticket
And I'm as blue as a boy can be
Walking in Memphis
Walking with my feet ten feet off of Beale
Walking in Memphis
But do I really feel the way I feel
Saw the ghost of Elvis
Down On Union Avenue
Followed him up to the gates of Graceland
I watched him walk right through
Now security they did not see him
They just hovered 'round his tomb
There's a pretty little thing
Waiting on "The King"
Down in the Jungle Room
Walking in Memphis
Walking with my feet ten feet off of Beale
Walking in Memphis
Do I really feel the way I feel
They've got catfish on the table
They've got gospel in the air
And Reverend Green be glad to see you
When you haven't got a prayer
You've got a prayer in Memphis
Now Muriel plays the piano
Every Friday at the Hollywood
And they brought me down to see her
And they asked me if I would
Do a little number
And I sang with all my might
She said
"Tell me are you a Christain"
I said "Ma'am I am tonight"
Walking in Memphis
Walking with my feet ten feet off of Beale
Walking in Memphis
But do I really feel the way I feel
Walking in Memphis
Walking with my feet ten feet off of Beale
Walking in Memphis
But do I really feel the way I feel
Walking in Memphis

song performed by by Lonestar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hearts Made Of Feet!

and so we struggle,
turning in the womb,
choked by the cord.
conceived in darkness,
becoming light!

we are hearts made of feet,
feet that walk the path.
feet that slip and fall,
feet that take the wrong turn.
feet that keep on walking,
sore, tired, hurting.
feet of desire, and purpose,
feet of soulful intent!

all the great philosophies
come to this...
feet that only stop walking
to bandage other feet;
then walk together,
leaving one set of prints!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My first book is really about heat. That book, for me, was an exploration of heat as ingredient. Why we don't talk about heat as an ingredient, I don't quite understand, because it is the common ingredient to all cooking processes.

quote by Alton Brown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There’s a male baboon loose in town

There’s a male baboon loose in town
walking on its hands and feet
opening all the rubbish bins in town
where eagerly it looks for any food

and it’s easier for him than the bush,
while cursing he talks to the dogs.
There’s a male baboon loose in town
walking on its hands and feet

stripping everything that it finds
and as an outcast it did desert,
he scratches between rubbish, old papers and mail,
trying to baptize himself in the sewerage,
there’s a male baboon loose in town
walking on its hands and feet.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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There is a major ingredient missing from our perception of how changes are brought about; that ingredient is power.

quote by Paul Wellstone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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I no longer prepare food or drink with more than one ingredient.

quote by Cyra McFadden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gourmet vs the Usual

a good food and a good drink
seven days a week
I wouldn't ask for more
I'll just eat with love and won't get bored

I tried cooking my own food
following mom’s recipe
but it didn’t taste exactly as
when mom’s the one cooking

Oh, I realized
I couldn't buy in the store
an ingredient mom has when cooking a food
I couldn't buy love and patience
in the fresh market or in any grocery

poem by Champs Ulysses Cabinatan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walking

Walking on a cold frosty morn
Gloves and scarf on me adorn.

Walking in the crisp fresh snow
Making my nose all aglow.

Walking up in the hills
Waterproofs on, to keep out the chills.

Walking down in the dales
Up in the sky see all the contrails.

Walking down along the field
Looking at what it has to yield.

Walking in the summer sun
When the day is nearly done.

Walking down the stony lane
Writing keeps me quite sane.

Walking shoes, boots and feet
All traipsing down the street.

Walking along full of emotion
Scribbling with a vague notion.

Walking in the evening shade
Watching daylight start to fade.

poem by Hazel Connelly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Yes Yes

when God created love he didn't help most
when God created dogs He didn't help dogs
when God created plants that was average
when God created hate we had a standard utility
when God created me He created me
when God created the monkey He was asleep
when He created the giraffe He was drunk
when He created narcotics He was high
and when He created suicide He was low

when He created you lying in bed
He knew what He was doing
He was drunk and He was high
and He created the mountians and the sea and fire at the same time

He made some mistakes
but when He created you lying in bed
He came all over His Blessed Universe.

Submitted by .eve.

poem by Charles Bukowski
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red Bull

Mood for love and food for thought,
With Red Bull and Guinness to satisfy your muse;
For you are now in the Valley of Love with the craft-men.

Oh that you will truly love me and give me a child,
But there are armed body guards around your compound!
And like food for thought.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Kajura

My love for you is like the big mango tree in my compound,
Upon which sits the monkey to look at you;
But i will follow you to Hew Guinea!
Of fowls, ducks, goats ans sheep to play in this compound;
And it is like the rice and chicken that you love to eat,
But we will sleep well under this mosquito net of love.
Don't worry my love,
For the centre of my compound is this mango tree!
And we should take life as it is around us,
For my love for you is like the big mango tree in my compound.
You and i have to accept this chronology and,
There is a place for us to sit and drink at times;
So come and drink a bottle of whisky with me tonight.
Kajura my love,
I want to tell you more about myself and more about life!
But the myth of love is all that hangs arouns us,
And i am the leader around here to lead you on.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ten Feet Tall

Happy Im floating
Around on my feet now
You make me go dizzy
Im weak at the knees
I feel like Im walking
Round ten feet tall
Well you say Im faking
And I say dont worry
The way that I bubble
Theres something in the make
I feel like Im walking
Round ten feet tall
Right, the chemistry is right
This boy has reached his height
The feeling just goes on and on...
From strength to strength
Im ten feet long
I feel like Im walking
Round ten feet tall

song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Place Called the Matador

They started cooking food
A very long time ago
Creating a recipe because
They loved the Chile relleno so

Perfection the objective
Ingredients fresh and fine
To bring forth a creation
That nowhere they could find

So the spent many hours
Of every single day
Cooking the best product
In their very special way

Chili’s are most important
Ingredient of this food
Dough was mixed as well
Oh, it was extremely good

The Matador still remains
The food still as delicious
Devotion to the craft
That has become infamous

I had a chance to see for myself
Cooks who know the score
A product like no other
A place called the Matador!

poem by Marilyn Lott
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
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Walking On The Moon

Giant steps are what you take
Walking on the moon
I hope my legs don't break
Walking on the moon
We could walk forever
Walking on the moon
We could live together
Walking on, walking on the moon
Walking back from your house
Walking on the moon
Walking back from your house
Walking on the moon
Feet they hardly touch the ground
Walking on the moon
My feet don't hardly make no sound
Walking on, walking on the moon
Some may say
I'm wishing my days away
No way
And if it's the price I pay
Some say
Tomorrow's another day
You stay
I may as well play
Giant steps are what you take
Walking on the moon
I hope my legs don't break
Walking on the moon
We could walk forever
Walking on the moon
We could be together
Walking on, walking on the moon
Some may say
I'm wishing my days away
No way
And if it's the price I pay
Some say
Tomorrow's another day
You stay
I may as well play
Keep it up, keep it up

song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Quest

My tears for hunger continues.
My quest for water is running short.
The joy of shelter I could only dream of,
With no shirt on my back, not even a sole of a shore on my feet.
The great quest continues.
Don't no the taste of food because I hardly have any..
Never had a recreation
Nor any form of entertainment.
All I could think of whats my next meal.
Searching the vast desert for food is brutal, days of walking with no success,
Am in pain need food
My tiny stomach hurts, my legs weak, my hands dead, I can't breathe.
My life less body is damaged.dead from hunger.....

poem by Donavan Avril
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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