Casserole
It was a casserole of an affair
Too many vegetables to name in the file for divorce
I knew the rift would fade and die
And that all loves complete their course
It was an out of court settlement
To save the tomato its blushes
And avoid exposing the greeness of the cucumber
The potato came out on top
[the the underdog must have it's day! '
P.S The cauliflower left quietly with a slab of cheese
It still harboured a secret ambition to make it
on the dining room circuit as a 'VERY TASTY DISH'
P.S It knew without the cheese it was nothing!
yvette smith london march 09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Potato
My love is a potato
Crude with piggy black eyes
Slit in the side and soiled by sod
My love is the rough handled skin
That follows the relentless storm
The tempestous waves
That raged and rent its first soft form
My love is a potato
The first and almost last known outcast
In a jungle school
His head was wedged like a spud
Mounted on a sinew of neck and bristle
His face sunken into flesh
His eyes two dark slits of piggy black lust
That lit up like a fool
I left him standing at the gate, after school!
My love is a potato after the mash and the kill
And the spill of the innocent milk of the martyr
The final slab of the butter
My love is a potato
Not quite a heart
Battered down
And worn
But after the storm
A sweetness and softening
And love is born!
yvette smith march 09
poem by Yvette Smith
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Ode To Cheese
☺ .
Ode To Cheese,
Which Makes Us Smile,
When Camera's go Clack.
Ode To Cheese,
Which make us taste,
The greatest of flavors, the wackiest of whack.
Ode To Cheese,
Blue, Gorgonzola,
American and Cheddar.
Ode To Cheese,
Beja and Feta,
In all types of weather.
Ode To Cheese,
For those on a diet,
or trying to get fatter.
Ode To Cheese,
with crackers and wine,
with grapes can flatter.
Ode To Cheese,
when you're sad and happy,
Cheese just fits.
Ode To Cheese,
Mountains and Mountains,
or bits and bits.
Ode to the Cheese,
To appreciate,
eat,
and take pictures.
Staring At The Dead Mouse
i poisoned that mouse
which ate my cheese
that i left
under my bed,
till now i do not know
the reason,
why that cheese
was there, why
i left the mouse dead
on the floor,
why i stared at it
as though
i am sharing my guilt
with the cheese
and the poison.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Cheese Cake
I met a babe in a backseat drive-in
Back in the saddle shed sit
Pulled on the reins just to keep me risin
She loved to chomp at the bit
Daddy do it, oh, just do it
Daddy do it, please let me see
Do it, please just do it daddy
Do it, do it, drivin me crazy
She walks away with her eyes
Down on her bootlace
She lives to give it away
She dont believe in the right or the wrong case
Shes always liable to say
Daddy do it, oh, just do it
Daddy do it, please let me see
Do it, please just do it daddy
Do it, do it, drivin me crazy
(cheese cake), looser than her sister
(cheese cake), her sugar gets me high
She knows I cant resist her (cheese cake)
Got my fingers in her pie (cheese cake)
(cheese cake), sneakin out the back door
(cheese cake), rollin down the lawn
Everybody kissed her (cheese cake)
At the crack of dawn (cheese cake)
Daddy do it, oh, just do it
Daddy do it, please let me see
Daddy do it, please just do it daddy
Do it, do it, do it, drivin me crazy
(cheese cake), looser than her sister
(cheese cake), her sugar gets me high
She knows I cant resist her (cheese cake)
Got my fingers in her pie (cheese cake)
Repeat (cheese cake)
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bag For Life
And so I blew it
And I some how I knew it, that
I would throw out the screwed up ends
The tighly coiled gut load of sentences
That discharged themselves randomly
In the supermarket
They gave me a 'bag for life! '
Somewhere on the journey I left it behind
At the point of exchange
Where there were no bins
I filled it with sentiment and waste
And those unheard wishes
Best left silent
Somewhere between here and waterloo
If only they knew
How easy it is to dropp off
The edge of all reasonable sense
Spill coffee on those carefuly pressed creases
And forget your lines
Under the interrogators light
A dark mastermind chair of pitting wits,
Leaving all wits witless!
45 minutes and times up!
yvette smith june 09
poem by Yvette Smith
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Piccalilli (Revised)
Piccalilli - the pickle that zings with zest
and foretells my royal downfall, a roll
prepared with onion, cheese, egg n'
tomato, spiced liberally with piccalilli
One bite cost my common sense -
knowing full well white rolls make me
ill I ate with relish still; it tastes soooo
wonderful when one like me
Lives in a bland dish desert of safe
condiments in black pepper and coarse
salt - if I felt bad after Prego steaks, I
now adore a crazy piccalilli tang
An extravaganza returns to haunt me in
solitary confinement of official texts, head
throbbing, oh piccalilli, chopped veggies,
cheese and spice, enchanting, piquant
For the unrequited palate…
[ORIGINAL: ]
Piccalilli - the word just sings with zest
and zing - spells my downfall, when you
prepared a roll with golden onion, tomato
egg and cheese all spiced up with piccalilli
I took one bite and lost all common sense
knowing full well that white rolls make me
ill I went ahead and ate with relish, it tastes
wonderful to one like me who lives life
In a desert of bland dishes with black pepper
and coarse salt the only safe condiments - I
love Prego steaks, feel bad afterwards, now
adore the tangy taste of piccalilli
An extravaganza coming back to haunt me in
solitary confinement with official texts, head
throbbing; oh piccalilli, chopped vegetables
and spices enchanting and piquant
For the underprivileged palate…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Cheesy Moon (Ghazal)
Look up and gaze at craters on the cheesy moon.
A cow, a spoon jumping over the cheesy moon.
Opening the refrigerator, what cheese now?
How about more of tasty, crusty, cheesy moon?
Dare I taste the zesty tang of pepper-jack cheese,
Mix and dance with the tango of a cheesy moon?
My office cloudy, loveless, lifeless gray
Could use some life-giving zest of a cheesy moon.
Brie and Camenbert, Ben loves soft and crusty cheese,
Swiss and Gruyère with wide eyes opened, cheesy moon.
- April 8,2008
This was published online by The Ghazal Page in July of 2008.
See:
http: //www.ghazalpage.net/2008/moon_challenge/2008_moo n_radif.html
poem by Ben Gieske
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The Moon Rabbit
In the night sky,
Sits the moon,
And on that moon lives,
The moon rabbit.
What he does up there,
All alone,
Is completely unknown.
But I think I’ve figured it out.
He spends his time,
Making cheese.
He makes cheese,
For the moon people.
And every year,
They have a cheese party,
To say thank-you,
To their cheese making friend.
poem by Mandy Jane
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In Translation
Arriving with no intepretator
Leaving with signals and signs
On the elevator
In the pressed drudged crowds
Filled by the strangeness of infatuation
Your first arrival
Under the flash of a neon ray
Leaving with the wrong signs
In your back pocket
The price tags and the labels
As if heaven was an eternal shopping mall
And hell was a supermarket checkout queue
Missing the signs and the cues
Leaving in an unfamiliar way
Unexpected
The wisest words are always spoken by children
Before reading and learning
In translation!
yvette m smith march 09
aka yvette m smith
circa march 09
poem by Yvette Smith
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Religious Nature
Why do you sleep when time has finished,
And cheese is a food for the sheep to make,
For the cheese asyouknow can bind you;
For cheese is recommended more than milk
And milk is what religion transmitted and given,
To forget and forgive the children say milk will be given,
As religion will thrive as regions of life can gain heaven.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Facts About Cheese
When the price of cheese was so low a few years ago that the
dairymen seriously thought of giving up the manufacture
of cheese and of selling their cows, we published the fol-
lowing lines and distributed them by the thousand :
Price soon will rise, though now 'tis low,
And brooks of milk will onward flow ;
Were it collected in one stream
There would be floods of milk and cream.
Mr. T. D. Millar has just secured, Sept., 1884, the first prize for cheese at the great
cheese fair at Amsterdam, Holland. They weighed over 600 pounds each, and were
manufactured by the Burnside Factory of Dorchester. The Galloway Factory is manufacturing
several cheese weighing one ton each. The mammoth cheese, alluded to in cheese ode,
was manufactured by Mr. James Harris, Ingersoll Factory. The Dnnn Cheese Factory, North
Oxford, secured first prize at the great Centennial Exhibition, but where all factories
produce such excellent cheese perhaps it would be making invidious distinctions to specify
the honours won by any particular factory. The West Oxford Company have recently built a
fine factory on the Culloden Road.
poem by James McIntyre
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The man who lost his soul
The man who lost his soul had a hole for a heart,
And so, wherever he went, there was a draught
Until one day he met his 'better half'
And feeling complete
He could thaw his sad frozen feet, at last
At the fire of love
And all loss was a thing of the past!
yvette m smith jan 09
poem by Yvette Smith
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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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Viewpoint
some people said I was crazy
And some people said I was lazy
And some people said I was on course
For a fully fledged 'divorce'
Until I said 'listen, I'm not married'
Some people said I was always carried
By other people with as much emotional baggage
Some people said I looked like a cabbage
And some people said I was as BIG AS A HOUSE
Some people said I was as quiet as a mouse
And some people said I should get a life
some people said I was a pain in the neck
And some people said they felt the pain
And some people who salvaged the wreck
Abandoned the deck
Broadcasting the ship would sink
And some people of the same clan
Disconnected their phone
Leaving me to ponder on my own
About all that they had said
And all their words fell silent
And suddenly dead.....
After so much defintion
I chose life instead
yvette smith march 09
poem by Yvette Smith
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Talking Cabbage
A talking cabbage told me, it would prefer to be in a side salad
Than watch the news
The couch potato listless of endless media coverage
Said it would rather be mashed and squashed
Than bored by another soap
Then it changed it's mind
And said it would prefer to mingle with mayonaise and chives
The talking cabbage said it would rather be coleslaw
Than know the weather
At least it could mingle with the onion and the carrot together
The talking cabbage said
' I would rather have my own chat show than watch Jerermy Kyle'
And then thinking it was all a dream
I showed him the chopping board
SILENCE
Then the cucumber started
I decided to become A NON VEGETARIAN
But something is telling me the lamb chops are restless
The eggs are becoming quite unreasonable
Over the spilt milk
And the bread is unhappy with it's filling
Happiness never lasts!
Decided to fast
But the silence is unbearable,
Who can fill it?
So I turned on the news.......! ! ..
yvette smith
poem by Yvette Smith
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The Fury Of Cooks
Herbs, garlic,
cheese, please let me in!
Souffles, salad,
Parker House rolls,
please let me in!
Cook Helen,
why are you so cross,
why is your kitchen verboten?
Couldn't you just teach me
to bake a potato,
to bake a potato,
that charm,
that young prince?
No! No!
This is my county!
You shout silently.
Couldn't you just show me
the gravy. How you drill it out
of the stomach of that bird?
Helen, Helen,
let me in,
let me feel the flour,
is it blinding and frightening,
this stuff that makes cakes?
Helen, Helen,
the kitchen is your dog
and you pat it
and love it
and keep it clean.
But all these things,
all these dishes of things
come through the swinging door
and I don't know from where?
Give me some tomato aspic, Helen!
I don't want to be alone.
poem by Anne Sexton
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Secret Ambition
Michael w. smith
Young man up on the hillside
Teaching new ways
Each word winning them over
Each heart a kindled flame
Old men watch from the outside
Guarding their prey
Threatened by the voice of the paragon
Leading their lambs away
Leading them far away
Chorus:
Nobody knew his secret ambition
Nobody knew his claim to fame
He broke the old rules steeped in tradition
He tore the holy veil away
Questioning those in powerful position
Running to those who called his name
(but) nobody knew his secret ambition
Was to give his life away
His rage shaking the temple
His word to the wise
His hand healing on the seventh day
His love wearing no disguise
Some say death to the radical
Hes way out of line
Some say praise be the miracle
God sends a blessed sign
A blessed sign for troubled times
Chorus
song performed by by Michael W. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cheese Balls
Cheese balls!
Sniff them as you lick them,
Cheese balls.
Delicious when you eat them,
Cheese balls.
Salty and their tart.
A snack that's hard to stop!
Cheddar up.
Cheese balls.
Sniff them as you lick them.
Cheese balls.
Delicious when you eat them.
Cheese balls.
Salty and they're tart,
And a snack that's hard to top.
Cheddar up.
Get a big bag and begin to stuff your gutt.
Those, those, those...
Cheese balls.
The cheddar makes them better.
Cheese balls.
They're better when they're cheddar.
Forget about the fedder...
And that gouda gotta go!
You've got to get them cheddar.
It's that cheddar taste that grows.
Cheddar up, cheddar up, cheddar up!
Those cheese balls...
Delicious when you eat them.
Cheese balls.
Sniff them as you lick them.
Cheese balls.
And a snack that's hard to stop!
Salty and they're tart...
Forget about the fedder.
And that gouda gotta go!
Cheese balls!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Chocolate Love Affair!
My Chocolate Love Affair, would you be so consumed
if you only knew,
how my heart melt's for you,
like a Hershey's kiss sitting in my mouth.
My Chocolate Love Affair, would you be so enthused,
if you knew the challenges my mind goes through...Focused.
Like a fighter in the ring we all need our fix,
whether it's a total TKO or that last little bit of chocolate,
dripping down that ice cream cone stick.
My Chocolate Love Affair, are you that usual mix
or exquisite like truffles...that nostalgic of an unique unusual mix.
If you only knew
If you only knew
If you only knew...would you feel giddy like you do.
My Chocolate Love Affair... it'll be a delicate dance,
with the smell of, Chocolate...
In the Air!
poem by Lana Grissom
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