4. Shopping and Chopping
Have you got pigs liver?
Said a lady in my shop
No I said politely
But I have a nice pork chop
Could I have some kidney?
With a half a pound of steak
To make a lovely gravy
With the pie she was to bake
The scales shows two and sixpence
Three bob a little more
She didn’t want the piece of steak
I’d just dropped on the floor
I parcelled up her purchase
And placed it with her shopping
Put the money in the till
Then went back to my chopping
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
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Related quotes
No gain without pain
Christmas shopping.
Again, the pain,
a thought so stark
will I even get
into the car park?
I only needed
to nip in,
a quick purchase
to make.
T'was deer steak
I wanted.
Oh dear, it's raining.
So I made a quick dash
oh, that was rash,
no deer steak
just rain
and a beef steak
to boot.
So I'll stay mute
about Christmas shopping.
poem by George BernardBloodyShaw
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Steak Number 3
[parody of mistake no. 3 by culture club]
The first steak I ordered,
It wasnt very hot.
I had to send it back,
Let em have one more shot.
But the second steak I ordered,
Well it was lousy too.
Now I really hate to say it,
But theres one thing that you gotta do.
Make me steak number three, yeah.
Make me steak number three.
Make me steak number three, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Make me steak number three.
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pork Chops are Fun
chop chop chop the pork squeals over dinner
with it's fatty bits and tasty bites
it marinates on a stick over hot coal
who will taste it first who will finish the bowl
Wow Pork Chops with red wine
then dinner will be divine
chop chop chop the pork is done
with ginger, wine and lots of fun
it's time to have with a salty bun
chop chop chop see it go in the oven my friends
it's dinner time lets eat it all
then lets sit together and have a ball
chop chop chop the pork tastes good
with the meat so tender it bloody weel should
sometimes on the pan sometimes as a roast
call your freinds for dinner it's a dish one can boast
chop chop chop the pork is done
sprikle a little wine to make things bright
then the meat put it on light
watch it burn and tremble with delight
chop chop chop my pork chops are done
poem by Anuj Tikku
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Shop, she shops!
Once she constantly smiled
Bought cloths and jewelry that gave her style
Shop, shop, shop
She shopped till she dropped
Shop, shop, shop
She just could not seem to stop
Her credit was on top
Her spending way rocket up
She paid with cash or credit card
This Lady was absolutely shopping mad
Shoping malls!
Markets stalls!
Shoes, clothing, and handbags she bought all year long
Spend, spend and spend daily was her beloved song
Shop, shop, shop
She now shops like a flop
Shop, shop, shop
This lady has now put a stop
Today is different shopping expedition
This time spending with supervision
No more that crazy spending addiction
Her credit card is cut
Her goods seized, the whole lot
Today she spends, her pockets hurt!
She has become street wise
Haggling with each price
She has become precise
About what she needs and not what is nice
Shop, shop, shop
She shops like a flop
Shop, shop, shop
Her spending has taken a big drop!
This lady has now put a stop to shop!
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Applauding A Boo
Vegetables on the chopping board
Inaugurate a television recital..
I chop chop
Recital going on
The lady joins me harmoniously
Chopping, chopping, chopping
Chopping the brinjal, raga
Potato, tala, onion, lyric
Her vocal chords strain to wriggle
The accompaniments, onion shed laughing tears
Dissonant, discordant, cacophony
Screaches to countless decibels
I'm chopping lady's finger
My finger weeps red
poem by Indira Renganathan
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The Creep In Him...
The waitress was fooled by the creep
who orders steak and says
that her steak is shit and throws the plate
to the floor
creating a scene in the restaurant
and...
then runs away.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Don't Recommend Sardines
I use to love my cabbage with potatos,
Buttered and baked.
And with fired pork chops!
Crispy too!
And that's what I ate.
Until I rediscovered,
A fresh salad with tomatos.
And...
With a slice of pound cake.
To me this was great.
But I don't recommend sardines,
For certain people.
Or acquiring a taste for rare steak...
Served to drip,
With a bleeding done on paper plates.
No...
I don't recommend sardines,
For certain people.
Or acquiring a taste for rare steak...
Served to drip,
With a bleeding done on paper plates.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Food Of Love
What would you like for supper,
Some steak, with chips and peas,
Maybe, a nice brewed cuppa,
Or me, with lips that please.
You could have something spicy,
Like a curry or sweet and sour,
But these can be a bit spicy
And not good, at this late hour.
Perhaps a glass of beer, or shandy,
Or a brandy to fill the gap,
But, of course, that might make you randy,
Hey! Have that as your nightcap!
There's me, I'm sweet and slender,
And tender like the steak,
And if you put me in a blender,
A fantastic meal, I'd make.
There's food enough for your pleasure,
So don't say you aren't well fed,
When you start to realise I'm a treasure,
You could have 'hot crumpet' in your bed!
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Tender Buttons [Apple]
APPLE
Apple plum, carpet steak, seed clam, colored wine, calm seen, cold cream, best shake, potato, potato and no no gold work with pet, a green seen is called bake and change sweet is bready, a little piece a little piece please.
A little piece please. Cane again to the presupposed and ready eucalyptus tree, count out sherry and ripe plates and little corners of a kind of ham. This is use.
poem by Gertrude Stein
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A Few Easy Pieces
Piece of this
piece of that
Peace and bliss,
Piece of crap
Peace of mind,
Piece of cake,
piece of work
Piece of steak,
Piece of eight
Piece of the action
Piece of the pie
Peace and satisfaction
Piece in the valley
Piece of glass
piece of my mind
Piece of a….
That’s quite enough now! ! !
Let’s quit this dance
Let’s stop while we’re ahead…
Let’s Give peace a chance
poem by David Whalen
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Wrapped In Plastic
Guilt is a snake we beat with a rake
To grow in our kitchen in the pies we bake
Feed it to us to squirm in our bellies
Twisting our guts make our spines to jelly
Stay, don't want to go now
Drove the children from their chores
Handcrafted housewives into whores
Fear of the beast is calling it near
Creating what we're hating, it's only fear that is here
Stay, don't want to go now
Come into our home, won't you stay?
I know the steak is cold but it's wrapped in plastic
Come into our home, won't you stay?
I know the steak is cold but it's wrapped in plastic
I'm only as deep as the self that i dig
I'm only as sick as the stick in the pig
Thin and so white, thin and so white
Daddy tells the daughter
While mommy's sleeping at night
To wash away sin you must take off your skin
The righteous father wears the yellowest grin
Don't wanna go now
Stay, don't wanna go now, stay, don't wanna go now
Come into our home, won't you stay?
I know the steak is cold but it's wrapped in plastic
song performed by by Marilyn Manson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Foul Mouthed Chef
He'd curse at the Steak and Kidney pies
and swear if the souffle's failed to rise
he'd jump up and down in a rage
if he disliked the taste of the Sage.
Losing his rag he'd throw a dish
if he didn't like the look of the fish
and if the soup just wasn't quite right
he'd be in a mood the rest of the night.
Even with customers he'd cut up rough
if they complained that the Beef was too tough
in temper his face would turn Red
and sweat would drip down from his head.
He'd become a big star on the Telly
for shouting abuse at a bowl of Jelly
in the kitchens he'd go berserk
if a simple recipe had failed to work.
And if a meal was just one minute late
he'd rant and rave and smash a plate
kick and punch a hole in a door
and throw cutlery down onto the floor.
But tasting gravy he swore was too thick
he suddenly became violently sick
the foul mouthed chef drew his last breath
Arsenic was the cause of his death!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Poke Chop Sandwich
(about lightnin hopkins drummer who used to keep a porkchop sandwich on his floor tom, for snacking during the breaks. recorded with hopkins drummer, spider, present in the studio.)
Poke
Better watch that
Poke chop sandwichwaitin in th? sack
Ridin a tom tom, a double fat back
Got my poke chop sandwich? /p>
Layin on da drum
Poke chop greazyIm gonna get some
Get some a? dat poke chop
Poke chop sandwich
Poke chop
Poke chop sandwich
Yeah yeah twenty five
Louisiana back beat and th? texas bop
Do a hollywood shuffle jes? cant top it
New york turn around and
Th? london stomp
African good luck combination
I know that ya want
Poke chop
Poke chop sandwich
Poke chop
Double poke chop sandwich
Play on
Spider & lightnin hopkins got
Th? big bad beat
Aint no question what they gonna eat
Spider wanna a bottle,
Lightnin? wanna a can
Theyll take in a bucket
cause they dam well can
A poke chop
A poke at dat chop
Cut dat poke chope
Poke chop sandwich
Feel like, I feel like a poke chop sandwich
Give me dat sandwich in wax paper
Pork chop sandwich
song performed by by ZZ Top
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Art of Conversation (Fun Poem 126)
In today’s society something is missing,
the art of conversation.
Nearly everyone forty and under
has a phone in their hand,
call It a mobile or a cell
it doesn’t matter which.
They use it twenty-four seven
not only for talking, but texting.
You see them in a restaurant
texting the person opposite only a foot away.
They say they do it because of the noise
and the noise they refer to is other phones ringing.
However, they don’t realise just how silly they look.
What could take a few minutes
takes more minutes to text.
Sometimes they even forget what they are eating
and pop their phone in their mouth.
A phone doesn’t taste as nice as a juicy sirloin steak.
When they order their phone,
they could order different colours.
Brown like gravy,
red like tomato sauce,
yellow like mustard
and put them all on their steak
like a deck of cards,
then shuffle them as they wait
for the next text to arrive.
Silly yes and maybe one day
they’ll look around at everyone
fiddling with their phones
and realize just how funny they look
and the art of conversation
may come back again.
Fingers crossed that might happen
and instead of them thinking to themselves
that I’m never alone with a phone.
(9 July 2011)
poem by David Harris
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Piece Of Cake
Come running. go for overkill.
If you dont come now, Ill be over the hill, all right?
Tell me, ''all right.
Got a sell-by date. soon be out of stock.
Pop me in your trolley you can start my clock. well, all right?
Tell me, ''all right.
I could be on your shelf, could be the risk you take.
Im a cup of hot coffee, Im a piece of cake.
Im the hot chicken in your superstore.
You can take me home if you can take some more, well, all right?
Tell me, ''all right.
I could be on your shelf, could be the bread you bake.
I can fill your larder, Im a piece of cake.
Show me rosemary, Ill show her wild thyme.
See you at the checkout or on the credit line. well, all right?
Tell me, ''all right.
Im your spicy filling, Im your low-fat spread.
Ill be your smooth rubber, be your pencil lead, all right?
Tell me, ''all right.
If you set me to simmer, if you grill my steak--
You can bowl me over, Im a piece of cake.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Enough of the Questions
Am I understanding this correctly?
Trillions of dollars are being borrowed...
And/or created,
To keep the feeding of those greedy?
And this will promote a healthy economy?
Okay...
So once this hole is filled,
The same folks are going to ensure it doesn't happen again?
My mama was an expert at using that very same approach.
She would open up a can of beans...
Serve it to us and say,
'The steak and mash potatos will be coming soon.
Eat this while you wait.
And don't worry about not having enough.
I've got more from where that came from! '
~What about the steak, ma? ~
'It's coming!
I didn't say what day.
But when it comes...
You will know about it!
Enough of the questions.
Eat! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The shopping list
Eggs Bacon
Sausages Ham
Cheese Corned Beef
Pork Pies Spam.
Apples Pears
Oranges Kiwi Fruit
Lettuce Tomatoes
Cabbage Beetroot.
Biscuits Crisps
Corn Flakes Weetabix
Crumpets low fat spread
Mars bars and Twix.
Bread/wholemeal
Steak and Kidney Pie
Squash Ginger Beer
White wine/dry.
Don't forget the papers
Daily Mirror/The Sun
then treat yourself with
a cuppa and a creamy bun!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Make Me Rich
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy.
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
'Horns and tambourines'
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
'Congas'
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
' And to the bridge'
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy.
'Lead/background singers and violins,
With bass! And give it...'
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
'Gimme Gimme Gimme'
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
'Gimme Gimme Gimme'
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
'Gimme Gimme Gimme'
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
'Gimme Gimme Gimme'
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
'Gimme Gimme Gimme'
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
'Gimme Gimme Gimme'
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
'Gimme Gimme Gimme'
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
'YES...'
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Top Choice Steak
There is nothing wrong,
With someone acquiring a taste...
For chopped liver.
Smothered in olive oil,
And seasoned with carmelized onions.
I see nothing wrong with that at all.
Forked or finger pinched to nibble.
It's just the expectations of someone,
Assuming to consume me...
As a fantasy to feed on.
And whether or not they like what I've got...
I will be no one's chopped liver.
Especially when it took me too long,
To be recognized as top choice steak!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Give Me That Loot
Give me that loot that you get.
The kind that fills up pockets.
The kind that makes one rich...
And can pay for all my habits.
And...
Give me that loot that you get.
The kind that fills up pockets.
The kind that makes one rich...
And can pay for all my habits.
These times I forsake steak.
And potatoes made to taste.
With gravy and glazed onions I would love.
These times I forsake cake...
Yellow, pound or chocolate made.
But I dream of having brownies...
With some lemonaide.
Give me that loot that you get.
The kind that fills up pockets.
The kind that makes one rich...
And can pay for all my habits.
Give me that loot that you get.
The kind that fills up pockets.
The kind that makes one rich...
And can pay for all my habits.
I've tightened up my loosened belt...
Not to miss a single loop.
I think of having juice or cool-aid...
But a bowl of noodle soup will do!
These times I forsake steak.
And potatoes made to taste.
With gravy and glazed onions I would love.
These times I forsake cake...
Yellow, pound or chocolate made.
But I dream of having brownies...
With some lemonaide would just be great!
Give me that.
Give me that.
Give me that.
Give me that.
Give me that loot that you get.
The kind that fills up pockets.
The kind that makes one rich...
And can pay for all my habits.
Give me that loot that you get.
The kind that fills up pockets.
The kind that makes one rich...
And can pay for all my habits.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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