Wilma's Welcome
He sat the table, fresh kid,
waiting for his dinner,
pushing back the war
now so far away.
His big brother smiled
glad to see him safe,
when she walked in,
carrying a steaming plate
of the best fried chicken
either had ever seen.
The aroma awoke in his memory
soft Ohio nights,
God's righteous thunder rumbling
gentle rains cooling the hot August sky,
when Mom carried in our dinner,
fried chicken and mashed potatoes,
safety and love.
And looking at his brother's new wife,
he smiled and at last said,
'welcome to the family! '
poem by Steven Federle

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Related quotes
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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Hot Potatoes
My baby woke me up this mornin
She said get down that labour exchange,
And if you dont come home with a job son,
Youll get no dinner to-day.
You gotta secure me a weekly workin wage.
Youll get no more fancy cookin,
Youll get no more apple pie,
Youll just get those plain hot potatoes
To satisfy your appetite.
La la la la la la potatoes,
Boiled, french fried, any old way that you wanna decide.
Hot potatoes, yeh,
I want your lovin every single day.
I said I dont need your fancy cooking,
I like the simple things in life,
Just give me those plain hot potatoes
And Ill be well satisfied,
Theyll satisfy my appetite.
La la la la la la potatoes,
Boiled, french fried, any old way that you wanna decide.
Hot potatoes, yeh,
I want your lovin 60 minutes an hour,
I want your lovin 24 hours a day,
I want your lovin 7 days a week.
Yeh, yeh, oh yeh.
I want your love, I need your love,
But all I get is hot potatoes
When I come home late at night
To satisfy my appetite.
Dont give me no more potatoes,
Boiled, french fried, any old way you wanna decide.
Hot potatoes,
I want your lovin every single day.
I want your lovin
La la la la la la potatoes,
Boiled, french fried, any old way that you wanna decide.
Hot potatoes, hot potatoes, yeh.
song performed by by Kinks

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eat It
How come youre always such a fussy young man?
Dont want no captain crunch, dont want no raison bran
Well, dont you know that other kids are starving in japan
So eat it, just eat it
Dont want to argue, I dont want to debate
Dont want to hear about what kind of food you hate
You wont get no dessert till you clean off your plate
So eat it
Dont you tell me youre full
Just eat it, eat it, eat it, eat it
Get yourself an egg and beat it
Have some more chicken, have some more pie
It doesnt matter if its boiled or fried
Just eat it, eat it, just eat it, eat it
Just eat it, eat it, just eat it, eat it, ooh
Your table manners are some cryin shame
Youre playin with your food, this aint some kind of game
Now, if you starve to death, youll just have yourself to blame
So eat it, just eat it
You better listen, better do what youre told
You havent even touched your tuna casserole
You better chow down or its gonna get cold
So eat it
I dont care if youre full
Just eat it, eat it, eat it, eat it
Open up your mouth and feed it
Have some more yogurt, have some more spam
It doesnt matter it its fresh or tanned
Just eat it, eat it, eat it, eat it
Dont you make me repeate it
Have a banana, have a whole bunch
It doesnt matter what you had for lunch
Just eat it, eat it, eat it, eat it
Eat it, eat it, eat it, eat it
Eat it, eat it, eat it, eat it
If its gettin cold, reheat it
Have a big dinner, have a light snack
If you dont like it, you cant send it back
Just eat it, eat it, eat it, eat it
Get yourself an egg and beat it (oh lord)
Have some more chicken, have some more pie
It doesnt matter if its boiled or fried
Just eat it, eat it, eat it, eat it
Dont you make me repeat it (oh no)
Have a banana, have a whole bunch
It doesnt matter what you had for lunch
Just eat it, eat it, eat it, eat it
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What You Did When Mama And Papa Were Quarelling
A boy hides under a table from a family fight
A fried chicken
Falls beside his trembling hands
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chicken & chips
Chicken & chips
Often brought by fast food addicts
Who love the finger licking taste
Fried fatty food
Unhealthy but cheap
Eaten for hunger's sake
Shop owners
Laughing all the way to the bank
At the expense
Of junk food loving customers
Who just want to fill their belly
With a cheap box of fried chicken & chips.
poem by Sinclair Azubuike

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Diet Song
Well breakfast black coffee one slice of dry toast no butter no jelly no jam
Lunch just some lettuce two celery stalks no booze no potatoes no ham
Dinner one chicken wing broiled not fried no gravy no biscuits no pie
And this dietin' dietin' dietin' dietin' sure is a rough way to die
So pass me a carrot stick peel me a prune a glass of skim milk and that's all
Turn off the TV for the Big Mac commercial it's drivin' me straight up the wall
And I'm think' of french fries sausage and waffles spaghetti and cookies and cake
And each night I'm dreamin' of chocolate ice cream and
I'm starvin' to death when I wake all for your sake
You're fixin' the kids all those creamed mashed potatoes
But it's bouillon and water for me and you got a lock on the refrigerator
Lord knows where you're hidin' the key
And while I am starvin' for food late at night I'm starvin' for lovin' from you
But you say that when I can see my own dick you'll be glad to look at it too
So supper two pieces of cauliflower raw some beefsteak the size of a nail
One sliced tomato a small dab of slaw I swear I ate better in jail
Stop eatin' that pizza right under my nose girl that's the least you can do
And put down that candy bar while I am singin' I'm starvin' my ass off for you
And when I am dead with the insurance paid you'll look down at me and you'll grin
You'll say well the boy tried and he suffered and died
But don't he look good when he's thin
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein

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Sharing Logic...
if you do not want the cat to climb
your table and eat your fried chicken legs
then put them all down flat on the floor.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Preparing Dinner
I watch the pot on the stove
Water is overspilling
The rice is cooking
With bubbles galore
I smother chicken in sauce
Sauce that is made up of green pepper, black pepper and onions
Accompanied with that is the All in one spice.
Watch out for the toilet paper
The spices start talking
The chicken gets fried
The smell of breyani echoes through the house
I chop the potatoes as well as the carrots
I open up McCain veggies
And distribute it with the food
I put more spices in and the McCain veggies
Gets assimilated into the food
The pot is filled with colours
The steam fills the house
The brown chicken starts talking to the yellow potatoes
So does the carrots
The rice is strained
It rises to the core
I use tastic rice
Because it is the best out of them all
I set the table with plates
And it is ready to be filled
One by one they get dished out
First the rice (centered) and then the potatoes and chicken
Ice cream is served as desert
Coca-Cola is poured into glasses
The sweet taste bubbles in my mouth
The hot food burns my mouth
While the cold drink soothes its pain
I smother tomatoes and onions with vinegar
And serve them next to the food
The sauce gives the tongue extra kick
And goes down with a good drink
poem by Lee John Siebritz

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Point Of View
Thanksgiving dinner's sad and thankless
Christmas dinner's dark and blue
When you stop and try to see it
From the turkey's point of view.
Sunday dinner isn't sunny
Easter feasts are just bad luck
When you see it from the viewpoint
Of a chicken or a duck.
Oh how I once loved tuna salad
Pork and lobsters, lamb chops too
'Til I stopped and looked at dinner
From the dinner's point of view.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein

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Fussy About Food
I’ve always been really fussy about what I eat,
But I’ll tolerate most foods, if the cook cheats!
It really depends on how a food has been cooked,
Whether or not, it has a place in my good books.
Examples of my some of my most hated foods,
Are sliced roast beef and apples that are stewed.
I’ll eat beef that’s been minced up into a pie,
And apples diced into a crumble are also fine.
Fresh coriander leaves, I definitely will not touch,
But cooked in a curry, I don’t mind them so much.
On potatoes that have been boiled, I’m not that keen,
But eating mashed potato or chips, I can be often seen.
Egg and cress sandwiches, by me, are never approached,
But I love eggs that are hard boiled, fried or even poached.
I dislike the taste of carrots that have been picked fresh,
But with the taste of tinned carrots, I’m really impressed.
I’m not so keen on either petit pois or garden peas,
But with the taste of mushy peas, I’m very pleased.
In pies and pasties, I hate to have a filling of cheese,
But I’ll devour a slice of cheese on toast with ease.
I’ve been a fussy eater pretty much all of my life,
And, caused my mother much trouble and strife.
When I was small, I often left much of my dinner.
My mum often worried that I would get thinner.
Like many other children, my main course
Often ended up, smeared with tomato sauce.
The enjoyment of a meal, this often improved,
And frayed tempers were also often soothed.
If there was a certain food, which I did really hate,
My mum would still insist putting it upon my plate.
Even with it on my plate, I still didn’t like the taste,
So that particular food would inevitably go to waste.
As I’ve got older, I’ve acquired an improved appetite,
Much to my mother’s extreme relief, and total delight.
Now, as an adult, my dinner plate is often cleaned,
And, hardly ever is a single morsel left, to be seen.
poem by Angela Wybrow

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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

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Please
Babysitter said 7
She's 15 minutes late
Jimmy's still playing in the bath
Cold macaroni on his plate
I still haven't done my hair
I hate doing my hair
It never comes out right
I must have changed my clothes
A half a dozen times
Ended up in this little black dress
Had to mend the hemline
Now I can't find my shoes
I can never find my shoes
Man I hate this
Am I nervous
Am I scared
Is it worth it
Should I even care
What a time to have these second thoughts
Man I like this guy
I really like him alot
(He's) everything that I was waiting for
And all that I've been praying for
Let be him be the dad, the friend, the man
Let him cherish me for who I am
Let him be the right one
Made it through dinner
Had a little too much wine
Probably talked too much
Went on and on about that little boy of mine
But he smiled
Yeah he really smiled
I can't believe he smiled
What a perfect night this has been
Should I say goodbye
Should I let him in
Calm down girl, it's just a kiss
I know, I know but it's been so long since I felt like this
(He's) everything that I've been waiting for
And all that I've been praying for
Oh let him be the dad, the friend, the man
Let him cherish me for who I am
Let him be the right one
Let him be the right one
(He's) Everything that I've been waiting for
And all that I've been praying for
Let him be the right one
Let him be the right one
song performed by by Pam Tillis

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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

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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

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Dinner Bell
Ive been leaving on my things
So in the morning when the morning bird sings
Theres still dinner on my dinner jacket
til the dinner bell rings
Experimental dog*
Salivating dog
Good dog
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the dinner bell)
Dinner bell dinner bell ring
Ive been leaving on my things
So in the morning when the morning bird sings
Theres still dinner on my dinner jacket
til the dinner bell rings
I dont want a pizza, I dont want a piece of (experimental dog)
Peanut brittle, I dont want a pear.
I dont want a bagel I dont want a bean I wouldnt like (salivating dog)
A bag of beef or a beer or a
Cup of chowder, corn, cake, or creamed cauliflower cause Im (good dog)
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the dinner bell)
Dinner bell dinner bell ring
Shoulder, bicep, elbow, arm
Forearm, thumb, wrist, knuckle, palm
Middle, pinky, index, ring
Dinner bell dinner bell ding
I dont know whether Id rather be having a bottle of vinegar (experimental dog)
I dont know whether Id rather be having an egg.
I dont know whether Id rather be having an order of bacon (salivating dog)
Or whether Id rather be having a basket of garlic bread.
I dont know whether Id rather be having some pie or (good dog)
Saving my appetite cause im
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the dinner bell)
Dinner bell dinner bell ring
Ive been leaving on my things (Ive been leaving on)
So in the morning when the morning bird sings (the morning)
Theres still dinner on my dinner jacket (on my)
til the dinner bell does the bell thing
Dinner bell dinner bell do the bell thing
Im waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the ding)
Dinner bell dinner bell ding ding ding
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the ding)
Dinner bell dinner bell ding ding ding
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the ding)
Dinner bell dinner bell ding
song performed by by They Might Be Giants

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Special Family Memories
I have special family memories
Of when I was just a child
My family did things together
More often than once in awhile
We would go to church together
Then afterward a Sunday drive
With roast beef and mashed potatoes
When back home we’d later arrive
We’d to go the movies on occasion
My mom, dad, brother and me
I remember especially seeing Bambi
Although that was sad for me to see
But family is so important
It creates a special bond
I have many family memories
Of which I’m so terribly fond!
poem by Marilyn Lott

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Meering Their Fate
Uncle said you can fed
the chickens and then
later you can choose
which one we have for
dinner tomorrow and he
went off to work someplace
leaving you to feed and fret
over which of the noisy hens
would meet their end by
Uncle’s hand and end up
as the Sunday roast sitting
among potatoes and parsnips
as each of the family widened
their eyes and licked their lips.
You walked up and down the
wire staring at each hen in turn
wondering which one deserved
to live or die but they all had that
chicken look that unconcerned air
of being and walking each one
settled on the next mouth feed
the next bite and so you wandered
off not knowing which hen would
meet their mortal fate that night.
poem by Terry Collett

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Love's Menu: Pommes de Terre Frites
Fried potatoes is a dish
Good as any one could wish:
Cheap it is, and appetizing;
Turn a saint to gormandizing:
Good and cheap and tasty too,
Just the thing for Love's Menu.
Love is dainty, and his food,
Even though common, must be good:
Love hath little to disburse,
So his fare must fit his purse:
Love hath fickle appetite,
We his palate must invite:
Crisp and hot, the price a sou,
Fried Potatoes, Love's Menu.
poem by William Gay

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A Tale Never Told
A Tale Never Told
The old man, who carried what, appeared to be and empty sack
over his shoulder when he walked through the village, is no more;
and I never got around asking him what was in his jute sack.
I think he carried around stories untold, dreams and translucent
memories of childhood. He was the brother of another old man
the one with a white donkey who came to our village selling
juicy, big lemons; alas he too has gone. He said of his brother,
the dreamer, walked amongst the stars and had forgotten how
to talk except to trees rose bushes and animals in the forest.
I once saw him in the glade playing mouth harmonica to a flock
of sheep that for once forgot to eat. When seeing me he stopped,
got up, smiled shyly and walked his way followed by snow white
rabbits; I fancied they were angels. I look up to the October sky
and sense his shadow and smile casting peace upon me.
poem by Oskar Hansen

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Snake Dinner
A snake dinner anyone?
Now, don’t go shakin’ your head
You just might really like it
Not necessarily something to dread
I’ve heard snake is delicious
And there are lots that you can do
To spark and spruce it right up
Whatever works for you
Pour on catsup perhaps?
Or a little bit of red wine?
Mustard or hot sauce?
Whatever you like is fine
Maybe braised or broiled
Or sautéed right in a pan
Add veggies perhaps for stew
Whatever you have on hand
I’d imagine they’re like frog legs
They say frogs taste like chicken
All crispy and deep fried
Hey, it really sounds finger lickin’
So, I’ll tell you what I’ll do
I’m gonna head out very soon
If I get a chance I’ll try some snake
You might sing a different tune!
poem by Marilyn Lott

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