I Like Tomato Sauce
i like tomato sauce
and so i keep lots of
and different kinds of
tomato sauces inside
the ref and when i open
it one night i thought
tomato sauce are also
water and i am in a trance
of some sort or something
i drink tomato sauce
and i remember you:
saucy, so saucy
i thought i am floating
in the river filled with
tomato sauce, yes,
my point is: be proud
i always think of you.
saucy, yes, so saucy.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Tomato
My love is a tiny red cherry tomato
That has found it's way into my heart by way of,
'An omelette'
'A cheese sandwhich'
A kittenish quiche
A side salad, that slid in through the side entrance
A tiny glistening punnet that flirted with the light
A drink carton full of bloody juice
A red nose that passed itself off as a tomato
A tin of Italian agraphobic plum tomatoes
A pizza
A pie
A spicy tomato pasta
A bed of floating tomatoes in a home made punch
A seed which grew secretly from my garden bed
Into a vine
Ready to pick
This tomato love is mine
It also came into my heart by way of
A tin of soup
A bottle of ketchup
And alot of sauce
My love is born
Not yet filing for divorce
Yvette Smith march 09
poem by Yvette Smith
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Big Tomato Meets Big Toe
Little did Big Tomato know,
she would meet Mr. Big Toe.
She did not know that Big Toe
had a radio show.
The radio show was called
“Big Toe Wants To Know”
Big Tomato walked through the door, ,
knowing she had an interview at 4.
Waiting in the lobby remembering what to say,
she bumped into doll Melodie Mezoree’.
“Wow, it’s Melodie Mezoree’ how are you today? ”
“Oh great nice to see you Big Tomato,
I was just on the radio show! ”
Big Tomato replied, “I will talk about how I can fly-
how I can fly way up in the sky.”
Then Big Toe walked in,
he was happy to see Big Tomato with a grin.
Both of them shook hands,
and Big Tomato talked and sang,
on the mic behind the stand.
It was Big Tomato’s big day,
every child listened to what she had to say.
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Big Tomato Meets Big Toe
Little did Big Tomato know,
she would meet Mr. Big Toe.
She did not know that Big Toe
had a radio show.
The radio show was called
“Big Toe Wants To Know”
Big Tomato walked through the door, ,
knowing she had an interview at 4.
Waiting in the lobby remembering what to say,
she bumped into doll Melodie Mezoree’.
“Wow, it’s Melodie Mezoree’ how are you today? ”
“Oh great nice to see you Big Tomato,
I was just on the radio show! ”
Big Tomato replied, “I will talk about how I can fly-
how I can fly way up in the sky.”
Then Big Toe walked in,
he was happy to see Big Tomato with a grin.
Both of them shook hands,
and Big Tomato talked and sang,
on the mic behind the stand.
It was Big Tomato’s big day,
every child listened to what she had to say.
poem by Christina Sunrise
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I weighed 190 when I got to boot camp, I came out at 178. I ate only the beans and tomato sauce.
quote by Tom Sizemore
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Through The Glow Of Candlelight
Too many windows and doors,
Remain locked and closed.
Even the presence of shadows,
Seem to be missing from view.
And there you sit in a corner wondering,
Why no one seems to care.
I think you just want me to believe that.
Too many sentences spoken to use,
Flow from your lips without the benefit..
Of an exclamation or periods.
You want this,
Undeniable anguish.
And you deliver this as an invitation?
I sense you have something up your sleeve.
Your interpretation of happiness,
And mine...
Do not mix!
Whatever it is you cling to,
Has you in a grasp of sadness...
You most enjoy as I perceive it.
To say you are meditating on attracting love...
As you say,
Is something done you do...
I must admit,
I don't want to stay another minute...
To witness whatever kind of love it is you wish.
One you want to make an appearance...
In this gloom and darkness.
Why do you smile at me,
Through the glow of candlelight?
Baby...
No disrespect!
But I think I better go!
And let me ask you this...
Why do you have so many mason jars,
Filled with tomato sauce.
It is tomato sauce?
Isn't it?
Why do you smile at me,
Through the glow of candlelight?
Baby...
No disrespect!
But I think I better go!
'Please stay.
I find you quite amusing.'
Under one condition!
That butcher knife sitting on that raised pedestal...
You let me have it to hold.
'Sure!
Where would you like to hold it?
And don't say in your hands.
They all seem to say that...
First.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Big Tomato
When I was about five,
I thought tornados came alive.
Alive into a big tomato with legs,
walking up the hill to where I lived.
Waiting anxiously outside my front door,
I was afraid but wanted to see more.
I imagined a big gigantic tomato coming up the street,
I thought it be cool and thought it be neat to see.
Wind starting blowing and sky became still,
the birds disappeared, I began to feel chills.
I imagined Big Tomatoes footsteps going boom, boom, boom,
my family hid in the basement in the family room.
Sleeping downstairs was fun for me,
we were all together as a family.
Now Big Tomato never did come,
but I have fond memories of a night of fun.
Written by Christina Sunrise on May 25,2011
www.christinasunrise.com www.puppetpoems.com
www.purplepoems.com www.suzae.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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I Will Wait
Behind the tomato fence
I sit as quietly as Sunday
waiting for her to come
and hum me Camelot,
where I have won a showdown
with the red wasps that stole
her ruby nectar.
But the only sound I hear
are the flirty chirps of sparrows,
and the only thing I feel
is air.
Still, I will wait
behind the tomato fence,
sitting as quietly as Sunday
for her to come
and hum me Camelot.
And when I catch sight of her
I know I'll gasp just like I always do.
She steals my heart away in chunks you see,
but she will blow me off
not even noticing I am here
worshiping her shimmer.
Still, I will wait
behind the tomato fence,
sitting as quietly as Sunday
for her to come
and hum me Camelot.
Meanwhile fragrant basil
smiles my mood,
and rosemary is drying.
There is an eye full of brightest brilliant blue,
and a crescent of white moon dying.
Here I will wait
behind the tomato fence,
sitting as quietly as Sunday
for her to come
and hum me Camelot.
poem by Sara Fielder
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do the British take their brollies?
Do the British take their brollies
On their Las Palmaris hollies?
Do they drink their Earl Grey tea
With two sugar lumps or three?
And whilst sitting besides the sea
Have they enough vinegary chips
Girls with oval red tomato hips
Too saucy for just a kiss
On the lips in hopes she'll reminisce...
Do the British spend all their pennies?
And take their Pooh bear Winnie's
And why do they buy mugs and plates?
To show back home their mates
And brag about a bartered price
And return not just once nor twice
But thrice was it really that nice.
poem by Mark Heathcote
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Gobi Manchurian
Remember you are not living for eating only
To change taste you may take this.
This chinese cuisine would be ready
With in fortyfive minutes.
You are the starter and
This is yours main course.
You can take the ingredients
Like couliflower plain flour
Corn flour spring onion ginger
Garlic salt soya sauce green chilli
Tomato ketup oil water.
Preparation method to taste.
Make experiments in this
Revolutionary new way.
Remember you are not living
Only for eating.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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What is sauce for the goose may be sauce for the gander but is not necessarily sauce for the chicken, the duck, the turkey or the guinea hen.
quote by Alice B. Toklas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good night, because we must
114
Good night, because we must,
How intricate the dust!
I would go, to know!
Oh incognito!
Saucy, Saucy Seraph
To elude me so!
Father! they won't tell me,
Won't you tell them to?
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Ode to Tomatoes
The street
filled with tomatoes
midday,
summer,
light is
halved
like
a
tomato,
its juice
runs
through the streets.
In December,
unabated,
the tomato
invades
the kitchen,
it enters at lunchtime,
takes
its ease
on countertops,
among glasses,
butter dishes,
blue saltcellars.
It sheds
its own light,
benign majesty.
Unfortunately, we must
murder it:
the knife
sinks
into living flesh,
red
viscera,
a cool
sun,
profound,
inexhausible,
pop ulates the salads
of Chile,
happily, it is wed
to the clear onion,
and to celebrate the union
we
pour
oil,
essential
child of the olive,
onto its halved hemispheres,
pepper
adds
its fragrance,
salt, its magnetism;
it is the wedding
of the day,
parsley
hoists
its flag,
potatoes
bubble vigorously,
the aroma
of the roast
knocks
at the door,
it's time!
come on!
and, on
the table, at the midpoint
of summer,
the tomato,
star of earth,
recurrent
and fertile
star,
displays
its convolutions,
its canals,
its remarkable amplitude
and abundance,
no pit,
no husk,
no leaves or thorns,
the tomato offers
its gift
of fiery color
and cool completeness.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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Boogie Boy
Im a boogie boogie boogie boogie boy
I like to play around with boogie toys
I need a boogie girl to boogie too
I need a doogie God my shoe to chew
I like to make a dumb ass noise
Because I m a boogie boogie boy
Now every mornin I wake up at nine
Im eating cheerios with red wine
Im reading that book but its not too good
Cuz my boogie head is made outta wood
It s a fact I get s0 much joy
When I can go out and be a boggie boy
Like to eat spaghetti with tomato sauce
I like to eat clams with spanish moss
I like to go down to mash potato town
Cuz thats where a boogie boy can get
Thats what I do
Like to make noise
Like to go out and be a boogie boy
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sit There And Eat It
OH!
So you want to 'mince' something?
You come in here ready to dice...
With me?
Well...
Let me tell you something right now...
You take this knife!
You see that roasted garlic?
Vadalia onion, parsley and garden tomato?
You dice them first!
You mince that together.
See that sauce pan?
DO YOU?
Put some olive oil in that pan!
Add some seasalt.
Now you add some fresh ground pepper.
Wait until that oil heats!
DO YOU HEAR ME?
DO YOU?
Do you see that cod sitting over there?
Get the butter!
Get the unsalted butter.
What do you mean there is only salted butter?
Then USE it!
Melt it separately.
Dip that cod in that butter.
Throw that diced stuff in that oil.
Sizzle all of it!
Now put that cod in!
YES! Put that in there! In that pan!
And...
When that is finished cooking,
I want you to sit there and eat it!
Every dropp of it!
WHY are you smiling?
I didn't do a thing!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Carpenter
With a nail in your right hand,
and a nail in your left hand,
and a nail or two to keep your feet in place...
up there on that cross - - -
I am just guessing that you are not here
to fix the roof!
He is not directing traffic like that - - -
and, yes, I know, that it is hot today - - -
... But, a loin cloth?
I am guessing that that is not tomato sauce,
and even I could pick a better hat than that!
You could use a haircut and a shave, by the way!
I don't mean to misbehave - - -
but, you must admit - - - this is a little unexpected!
BUT - - - You did say, you would be back!
Although your mothers image is on the odd potato chip,
or on a cement wall under a Chicago train bridge...
or on a grilled cheese sandwich, according to believers,
I tend to think that that's not what you meant by ' Faith '.
poem by Barry Van Allen
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Bowles And Campbell
To the tune of 'Why, how now, saucy jade?'
Why, how now, saucy Tom?
If you thus must ramble,
I will publish some
Remarks on Mister Campbell.
ANSWER
Why, how now, Billy Bowles?
Sure the priest is maudlin!
(To the public) How can you, d--n your souls!
Listen to his twaddling?
If I could only have one type of food with me, I would bring soy sauce. The reason being that if I have soy sauce, I can flavor a lot of things.
quote by Martin Yan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Going Back To Kindergarten
Wittgenstein
went back to kindergarten
trying to figure out
how a language is learned
to know that language is born
not with a word or two
but in a cluster of sentences
like the birth of a baby
that comes not with spare parts
of hands and legs and toes
but as a whole coming out
from the womb and with a
spank from this world
cries to let you know that
it is alive and has already
some feelings and thoughts
of its own. Like us, we learn
the language of love not on
a piecemeal basis, we know
love when we are accepted
as a whole person, not as
bits and pieces and chunks
and cold cuts, but as tomato
sauce garnished with cheese
and mint and rosemary and
meatballs and salt and pepper.
Wittgenstein went back
to kindergarten
not as a kid but as a philosopher.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander.
quote by Marcus Terentius Varro
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Secondly, I thought it was ridiculous to have two undercover policemen driving around in a striped tomato.
quote by Paul M. Glaser
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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