Native Indian Feast
feathers on their heads wet
canvass canopy start to drip
drums chant to heaven's part
trinkets hand made in tepees
find their way in small cases
where few bucks gets you piece
clouds not kind to lowlanders
it keeps on pouring for hours
dancers huddle beneath with me
their faces aren't that happy
food wagon cooking food, sweet
burgers, hot dogs good to eat
poem by Manonton Dalan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
MaMa's Cooking
Thinking of times I would say what's cooking everyday
It's an assortment of goodie things
Chocolate, pies and banana pudding
Enough food and that's Mama's cooking
Thinking of times I would say what's cooking everyday
Apron in hand and lasting impression I didn't want to miss
Everything seem perfect from beginning to end
Enough food and that's Mama's Cooking
Thinking of times I would say what's cooking everyday
Smiling faces and a gentle speech of o.k.
Noone knows how much the void I can't fill
Enough food and that Mama's Cooking
Thinking of times I would say what's cooking everyday
Being polite and sincere would carry the weight
Seemingly enough she has the greater plan
Enough food and that Mama's Cooking ahead
Thinking of times I would say what's cooking everyday
The napkins, plates and never-ending why didn't it last
Noone knows how much the void I can't fill
Enough food and that's Mama's Cooking again
Thinking of times I would say what's cooking everyday
Craving for the turkey and dressing pan
Not to admit, seemed a bit much
Enough Food and that's Mama's Cooking again
So nowadays, I look for the needle in the haystack
Wishing on the times, she would come back
It's been 10 years, since I said thoughs word's
Enough food and that Mama's blessing for us
Missing mom everyday becomes second-nature for me
Enough food, Enough love and One day she'll see
For know I'll take her spirits with me and others will speak
Enough food, Enough love and One day she'll see
poem by Natasha McGee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Salad is Incompatible with Life
Yes, my waist is fifty inches -
Big for me because I'm short.
And yes, I like my cheddar cheese
When partnered with a vintage port.
Okay, okay, that double cream
Is always served with pud,
And cake and biscuits with my tea
Are just no bloody good
For my poor hardened arteries,
But see my point of view,
Please dear wifey if you please,
A Salad makes me spew!
I'd rather eat a bowl of air
Than crunch away on greens;
Drink water from the toilet bowl
Or nibble on my jeans!
But salad! Are you there?
You know it makes me snappy -
So let me fill my face with grub,
Stay fat, and die young happy!
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gourmet vs the Usual
a good food and a good drink
seven days a week
I wouldn't ask for more
I'll just eat with love and won't get bored
I tried cooking my own food
following mom’s recipe
but it didn’t taste exactly as
when mom’s the one cooking
Oh, I realized
I couldn't buy in the store
an ingredient mom has when cooking a food
I couldn't buy love and patience
in the fresh market or in any grocery
poem by Champs Ulysses Cabinatan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Place Called the Matador
They started cooking food
A very long time ago
Creating a recipe because
They loved the Chile relleno so
Perfection the objective
Ingredients fresh and fine
To bring forth a creation
That nowhere they could find
So the spent many hours
Of every single day
Cooking the best product
In their very special way
Chili’s are most important
Ingredient of this food
Dough was mixed as well
Oh, it was extremely good
The Matador still remains
The food still as delicious
Devotion to the craft
That has become infamous
I had a chance to see for myself
Cooks who know the score
A product like no other
A place called the Matador!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Overweight with Food
Are you just a tub of lard and
Vastly overweight?
Do you think that when you die you'll
Need a piano crate
To act as coffin for your frame? -
Chosen as you die in shame, with
Only you to take the blame
For years of eating much the same:
A daily calorific fest
Gourmands of your ilk digest!
Is your heart in final fling and
Nearly set to burst?
Are your arteries bunged and clogged and
Feeling now the worst
For wear? - your aneurysm fit to blow
While blood as thick as rising dough
Cries 'Halt! ' to any hope of flow:
A dreadful state to put on show
In front of any nurse!
Best you hail a hearse.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Food is god
Food is god
for poor people...!
God is not
Only food...
Rich home
Dog is eat
Nice food...
That food is god...?
yes that also
A god...
Good food is
God...
What is good food...?
Given good health
Always good food...
So...
Non veg
Or veg...
Every good food
Is god...
Simply sit
Silentely eat food
With out hot
And cool drinks...
Food is not only
Poor's god...
With each and
Every one also
food is god...
Give respect and
Take food...
Happley too try too
Thank for god...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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A Lovely Picnic with Friends
Oh what a lovely day it was
The weather warm and sweet
Packed with friends we cherish
No better folks could you meet
We barbequed dogs on the grill
Out in the bright sunshine
Enjoying the open sky to eat
A meal that was truly fine
Burgers too were grilled just right
Topped with onions and stuff
Just simple tasty scrumptious food
Without a lot of unnecessary fluff
Deviled eggs so perfectly made
With a sprinkle of paprika on top
A delicious blend of flavors
That really truly hit the spot
It was a day we will remember
Good food, good friends together
Can’t ask for a more relaxing time
With the gift of perfect fall weather!
poem by Marilyn Lott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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041410f Eat, Drink And Clean Up
men are helping conductor to load up
my bag is still hanging there innocently
villagers came with trinkets and food
they are selling, boiled corn, sweet
potato, banana, chicken on stick, drinks
they are buying, it must be good but me
we have rested almost twenty minutes
their faces are brighter now than few
minutes ago, villagers also made money
i also wash my face; still brown thru n thru
i didn't tried their food nor their drinks
i have my orange juice bottle and sandwich
poem by Manonton Dalan
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Syrup Sponge
Pour a pint of cream
Upon my spongy bulge!
Scoop me with a
Hefty spoon;
Taste my essence -
Do you swoon?
Feed your self-esteem; indulge
In me until you burst -
Death by syrup sponge - you're cursed!
And as the count in inches gain
Upon your weary waist, the strain
Will tell, but you'll not care -
Steeped in sponge, you're unaware!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food
food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Some food
Some food is
Medicine...
Medicine is some food...
Some food is poison...
Some food is Tenson...
Some food is Fear...
Some food is lovely...
Some food is Bland...
Some food is sweety...
Some food is spicy...
Some food is nothing...
Food is not only food
A good eatable medicine...
At only some food...
Some food...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Seek Food
Hunger is to seek food,
Food has one eye and one ear.
The food we abstain from are the heads,
The food is caring over us, and we maintain
Our lives with the food of the day.
Liquors are taken as food,
With a brain too bright,
A table and a cook is required,
Forming my life as a whole.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cooking and taste
eating the same tasteless dinner at the only diner
the umpteenth time, a thought came to my mind
am i a guinea pig or one of its kind
or was there a conspiracy behind
has my taste buds gone out of date
why is all so tasteless, that is the food i ate
i dared to ask the manager why the taste is so bad
bang came a caustic reply, this is by the best cook he ever had
(insinuating a problem not with his cook but with my taste)
well then it has to be my taste buds i thought
directing all my efforts to the food i had bought
then came storming, the savior, inside the hall
in his hand was the same food for which i have taken the fall
indignanlty he shouted at the manager
this food is so bad that even his dog had refused to had
hell i thought even the dog has a better taste
why, why am i such a waste
the dog in me forced me to start cooking that very day
the dog in me does sometimes refuses to eat what i cook
the human in me requests him to hav another look
for, when people are struggling for one square meal a day
how can i keep the food i cooked at bay,
hence i eat, taste or no taste, everything i cook, every day.
For the most part this is a place to find down-to-earth advice on everyday cooking, eating, food shopping, cooking equipment, and nice things to put on your table.
quote by Arthur Schwartz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Food In Heaven
Food In Heaven
Food In Heaven
He made the cows to want the rain to fall he made the grass that they use to eat to fill the want inside a cow he makes grass as bread for cows they just continue there to graze in some places in the desert spaces there is grass for cows to eat this is called heaven sweet to cows they drink water when they have it in a drink flavored pouch oh no see eh ewe caught me making lies no listen while eye smile and tell ewe this poem is so nice there is grass for all the cows there is grass on every hill and every cow can eat in heaven they still have grass for every cow there is food in heaven there is food there in a drink flavored pouch.
poem by Charles Hice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vangie's Cuisine...
Food, food, food…Vangie’s food…
You can find them in FACE BOOK
Mouthwatering cuisine of Filipinos food
Let’s get together and have a look…..
Pretty Vangie is the cook
Using delicate hand to cook the food
Her expertise is out of this world
Nothing can beat her skills of food….
I look at it everyday
To see what’s the menu for today
Tummy now that was once empty
Is now full of what she cooked for that day! ! ! !
-xxx-
poem by Rachel Hill
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Little Slice of America
To be american, What does that really mean? I sit here in a Mcdonalds with the smell of sewage burning my nostrils making me nauseated as the stentch mixes with the smell of greasy burgers. I watch as a homeless man begs everyone who walks in, for change. I give him what I can spare. I watch as my fellow americans stuff their faces with processed fast food, all with tired faces. And on the T.V. there is talk about a revolutionary war rising in Syria. We sit here in the little busy Mcdonalds eating fat and sugar shaped in the form of what is passed as food while watching a war, people dead on the streets of a less fortunate country. We are exactly what other countries think of us even though we swear we are not. and I admit I am part of it... We are americans.
poem by Jeremy Rascon
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A Food For Everything!
Meals are the food for the body;
Knowledge is the food for the mind;
Meditation is the food for the spirit;
Music is the food for the love of heart;
Dreams are the food for the consciousness;
Prayer is the food for the Almighty;
Love is the food for the living heart;
Thoughts are the food for the brain;
Colourful ink is the food for the pen;
Ideas are the food for the stories;
Truth is the food for the will;
Sun’s energy is the food for the plants;
Plants are the food for the living beings;
But one man’s food is another man’s poison!
poem by Ramesh T A
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The Clean Plater
Some singers sing of ladies' eyes,
And some of ladies lips,
Refined ones praise their ladylike ways,
And course ones hymn their hips.
The Oxford Book of English Verse
Is lush with lyrics tender;
A poet, I guess, is more or less
Preoccupied with gender.
Yet I, though custom call me crude,
Prefer to sing in praise of food.
Food,
Yes, food,
Just any old kind of food.
Pheasant is pleasant, of course,
And terrapin, too, is tasty,
Lobster I freely endorse,
In pate or patty or pasty.
But there's nothing the matter with butter,
And nothing the matter with jam,
And the warmest greetings I utter
To the ham and the yam and the clam.
For they're food,
All food,
And I think very fondly of food.
Through I'm broody at times
When bothered by rhymes,
I brood
On food.
Some painters paint the sapphire sea,
And some the gathering storm.
Others portray young lambs at play,
But most, the female form.
“Twas trite in that primeval dawn
When painting got its start,
That a lady with her garments on
Is Life, but is she Art?
By undraped nymphs
I am not wooed;
I'd rather painters painted food.
Food,
Just food,
Just any old kind of food.
Go purloin a sirloin, my pet,
If you'd win a devotion incredible;
And asparagus tips vinaigrette,
Or anything else that is edible.
Bring salad or sausage or scrapple,
A berry or even a beet.
Bring an oyster, an egg, or an apple,
As long as it's something to eat.
If it's food,
It's food;
Never mind what kind of food.
When I ponder my mind
I consistently find
It is glued
On food.
poem by Ogden Nash
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I love chinese food! !
I love chinese food, and chinese food loves me,
but in my imaginary land, i am the queen.
The clouds there are orange chicken, the grass is chow mein,
I love my land, mostly because there's no candy canes.
The mountains are huge potsickersand the trees are eggrolls,
whatever I'm craving it falls into a bowl.
It doesn't fall in big, it falls in small,
I'll tell you how small, as small as a golf ball.
It rains soy sauce, and the bushes are broccoli,
the beef is a part, and that part is it's berries.
Whenever go there, it's always fun,
so next time I go, you should really come.
poem by Aubrey Harmel
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Food For Thought
Milk and honey
Your lips are milk and honey oh oh
Overflowing
You get my juices going
Sweet and tasty
Your love is sweet and tasty oh oh
Skin so creamy
Your bodys soft and dreamy
Food for thought
You give me food for thought
Filling me up with your love
I cant control my hands
Champagne kisses
You give me champagne kisses oh oh
Cool my passion
Slow down my fast reaction
Hot and spicy
Your love is hot and spicy oh oh
Somethings burning
Down in your life Im turning
Food for thought
You give me food for thought
Filling me up with your love
I cant control my hands
Food for thought
You give me food for thought
Oh dont let me down
Ill starve without your love
Starve without your love
Starve without your love
Starve without your love
Starve without your love
Starve without your love
Somethings cooking
I know that somethings cooking oh oh
In your kitchen
I feel my hunger rising
So feed my senses
Come on and feed my senses oh oh
Im not starving
I need a second helping
Food for thought
You give me food for thought
Filling me up with your love
I cant control my hands
Food for thought
You give me food for thought
Oh dont let me down
Ill starve without your love
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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