The Emptiness That Eats Poems, And Yet Still Hungry
(my) emptiness is greedy
it eats as breakfast
five to six poems in a day
it will require more for
lunch and
an unspecified number for
dinner
when midnight comes
it complains
it is still hungry.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Candy for Breakfast
MMM!
candy for breakfast!
cake for dinner!
all such a wonderful
idea
I dont care
if I get cavities
I just want some
more sweets!
MMM! main course comming up
sweet tarts, delicious,
but I'd rather have
just a few taffys
Why not throw in a few
sprinkles, hershys, taffys,
cream, cake, sugar, vanilla
MMM! candy for breakfast
why not lunch?
or dinner?
midnight snake for sure
But i dont want to
get too carried away, right?
poem by John McAdam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Greedy Cat at the Cafe.
He sits at the corner table
with not a fur out of place,
delicately he eats with a well-manicured claw,
then, overwhelmed by the delicious smell - and taste,
shovels mouthful after mouthful in with his paw.
He greedy comes to the Cafe everyday
for breakfast, lunch and afternoon tea,
Gets served by Chris and Morgan,
two lovely people who, to please their customers
go out of their way.
The Cafe but had no name,
a catchy title none could think of,
But then the cat with the appetite so greedy,
said 'why not name it after me? '
'I always come here everyday,
and the freshest food you go out of the way to serve,
It would do me the greatest honour
if you named it The Greedy Cat Cafe'
So the cafe at last had a name,
'The Greedy Cat' it's now called,
Still everyday there go's that greedy cat,
Because of the food -
and Chris and Morgan's service with a smile -
he could never get bored.
02/01/06.
Lunch and Dinner
I have breakfast and lunch and dinner,
Munching away forever and ever;
The religion of some is furious and solid,
Yesterday it was bigger than today
But my day is always happy with fury,
Its speed is falling everywhere,
Velocity is the vector of your liking
For you know the directions
We possess.
Our breakfast is taken in fullness,
My lunch is ever so strange
And supper chanced itself.
poem by Naveed Akram
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I have many memories of waking up to eat breakfast that my mother carefully prepared for us and her saying, what do y'all want for lunch, and as we're eating lunch, what do y'all want for dinner? It's always about the next meal.
March of the Wheelchairs
In Dakota land lunch is dinner
and dinner supper while lunch is lunch,
as traditions from farmlands go.
Now breakfast is at 6, lunch at 9
dinner at noon, lunch at 3
supper at 7, everything timed.
Day in and day out, better not be late.
Weather fickle, eating ain’t!
Farm traditions, genetics ‘grained.
No surprise, nursing meals,
wheelchairs marching, internal time,
largo moves, staccato fades.
Day in, day out…they’re not late
Wheelchairs marching, marching in
farm traditions, genetics ‘grained.
Weather fickle….eating ain’t!
Hope God keeps the schedule,
or has… a special dining hall.
As these Wheelchairs… arrive
Girls Just Want To Have Lunch
[parody of girls just want to have fun by cyndi lauper]
I know to keep a woman satisfied.
When I whip out my diners card their eyes get so wide.
Theyre always in the mood for something to munch.
Ah girls, they wanna have lunch.
Ah, girls just wanna have...
Thats all they really want,
Some lunch.
Dont ask em to dinner
Or breakfast or brunch,
cause girls, they wanna have lunch.
Ah, girls just wanna have lunch.
Girls they want, wanna have lunch, girls, wanna have...
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My body is like breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I don't think about it, I just have it.
quote by Arnold Schwarzenegger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince, and dinner like a pauper.
quote by Adelle Davis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Micro And Macro Poetry Feast!
Poets are the cooks who concoct delicious poetry for all.
Break fast, lunch, tiffin and dinner are the meals of a day;
But there are also drinks, snacks and buffets for feasts.
So, zealous poets have taste for micro and macro poetry.
Pups, samosa or cutlet are Haiku, Tanka or cameo poems;
Sonnet, romantic, classic poetry are breakfast, lunch, dinner!
Modern poetry is snacks, big or small Mac at anytime of day!
Blank verse or free verse is the variety of cakes and breads!
Micro and macro poetry are the tiffin and grand dinner feasts
People enjoy everywhere in the world at anytime of the year!
Taste and style of the feast depends in the presentation of chef,
The master cook of poetry who decides the fete from start to end!
In the menu of literary feast poetry item overwhelms all others
By micro and macro forms in message and music to satisfy all!
poem by Ramesh T A
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A bachelor's life is a fine breakfast, a flat lunch, and a miserable dinner.
quote by Francis Bacon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh, my friends, be warned by me, That breakfast, dinner, lunch and tea, Are all human frame requires.
quote by Hilaire Belloc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Enjoy breakfast all alone, share lunch with your best friend and give dinner to your enemy.
I definitely have a family. I have a boyfriend who has kids, and we do normal things every day, like get up and go to school. Eat breakfast, lunch and dinner.
quote by Tina Yothers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Perhaps This Way
perhaps in this way
as i take you into so much
familiarity
i may soon forget you
and so i take you like i am
having breakfast
and lunch and dinner
like i am washing my face
and feet
or my having to take a bath
everyday
every night
like you are water and soap to
my existence
but to no avail
you are still a diamond ring
kept so near
to the beatings of my
lousy heart
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Because Of Me
because of me you begin to write poetry
some haikus
and more haikus are coming still
from what you have actually seen
in the river
in the pond
the geese
the leaf sinking
those little things
the worms
and cocoons
because of you i also learned how to read poetry
long enough
for the hours to become so huge
and i was scared by its big mouth
and long slimy tongue
and i stand before it
and let myself be
swallowed
whole
it is dark inside the hours
but my heart was like the sun
shining brightly
at midnight
because of us we have become complete
we have become new breeds
now eating poetry
for breakfast
and lunch
and perhaps, on the next coming days
dinner too.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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O, What A Short Story
From beginning to end it was a short tale
It follows like this, a once unspoken story
Dusk would come and we’d walk together
Down along the beach, we could stay for forever
The sand would squeeze between our toes
As we walked together, on the beach at dusk
Night would come and we’d eat together
Followed by talk of what the future would bring
A bundle of happiness, and a house together
We’d talk together, after eating dinner at night
Morning would come and we’d be off to work
What a night we’d had, but forgotten already
Fights would follow and a change would be made
We’d fight and fight, in the morning during work
By lunchtime the end would soon be near
Sick of the madness and unpredictable sadness
My bags would be packed before dinner came
I’d pack my bags, after lunch in sorrow
That dinner would be lonely, alone I’d eat
And I’d cry myself to sleep
Alone at a friends, a depression with no end
I’d finally sleep, after dinner I’d cry
My story would end at midnight that night
How could I bear to live, without my sweetheart?
I’d go peacefully in sleep, after taking those pills
I’d take my last breath, at midnight that night
poem by Alyssa Baker
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It's Quiet Now In Kansas
We had Taliban for breakfast
and then bin laden broth
some muslims ripe for dinner
i couldn't get enough
and then some koran crackers
for late night nibblies
we were hungry after dinner
and craved idolatry
next day we ate the holy pope
and while we were in rome
destroyed the sistine chapel
and then we headed home.
Its quiet now in kansas
its quiet on the news
now i really really must insist
i click my magic shoes.
poem by David Keig
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When You Arrive Today
when you arrive today
there is no surprise except
for the reason that i have not
taken any lunch simply because
i still have more poems to write,
not about you or her,
it is all about an emptiness
that lingers so lovingly
inside my ears.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Bench By The River
It’s six thirty on Sunday morning
and I’ve been here since three.
I don’t sleep much now-a-days,
but that don’t bother me.
The flies are here as usual
taking salt from my skin
whilst I’m having breakfast
of blood red wine and gin.
I remember when I was married
I had food three times a day.
Now, I eat when I’m hungry,
but not much comes my way.
I live in a one room bed sit,
which is big enough for me.
I don’t give parties anymore,
besides I’ve got no settee.
Two chairs, and one’s my table,
a sleeping bag on the floor.
A cup, a glass and a tooth brush,
don’t need anything more.
Another bottle is approaching
along with friends of mine.
We’ll continue having breakfast,
at least until lunch time.
poem by Orlando Belo
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