I'm Hungry, Feed Me a food Poem

[Tinker]

Just for fun, no high poetry expected, write a poem about food. We have such a diverse membership, I think it would be interesting to read about foods from far away. And if you are looking for a bit of challenge to take your writing in another direction, just a means to hone your skills, try writing a Rhyming Recipe. I am always looking for poems written by my friends to use as examlples in my genre and forms articles.

I'll start with something not so exotic. Pretty basic, but that is me.

RED

I feast on tomatoes tonight,
not the waxy orange odorless orbs
found in the supermarket year round,
but ripe RED
warm from the vine tomatoes
with the musky aroma of earth and sky
that wafts to my nostrils
as I slice through tender skin
and succulent juice spills out
to be licked from my fingertips.
Sliced rounds fanned on a platter
sprinkled with just a touch
of salt and pepper
to accent the sweet acidic tang
top the list of my favorite foods.
They're late
but worth the wait.
-------- --Judi Van Gorder

[rumisong]

Leeks in the pan, do what you can,

flourish to nourish the oils you're slathered in --

mushroom to add, stir it like mad,

savor and flavor my slippery concoc-a-shin --

lower the heat, now for the meat,

no shortage of sausage for depth and delighting in --

nothing more needed, but for me to be feeded,

my hunch is that lunch is ready for tucking-in!

[Tinker]

Rumi, This is so fun. A poem with rhyme that sounds delicious. Can I have permission to use this as an example to the Rhyming Recipe ? Does it have a title?

 

~~Tink

[moonqueen]

Hey, Tink, I just saw this, this morning. Hopefully not to late to be enjoyed.

 

 

 

I Cooked My Ass Off

 

Julia Childs had nothing on me,

I have won the Golden Fork,

a cooking contest I once entered

my dish was "Dressed Up Pork".

 

The thing on which I did not count

was a rule I must have missed

we had to butcher our own meat;

just ask if I was pissed!

 

I will not say how it came to be,

but in my pan a pork roast laid.

I gathered all my spices and herbs,

tomato paste and marmalade.

 

I cut little slits, into which I tucked

hand picked basil and garlic clove,

whisked up the sauce, took a taste

then simmered it on the stove.

 

I made a dressing of oil and bleu

and tossed it with Drunken Tomatoes.

I arranged my food on the china plate

to show off my Parsley Potatoes.

 

Cheese, Olive and Pepper Bread,

two warm and crusty loaves,

a crock I baked of Whiskey Beans,

fresh peaches, from local groves

 

browned in spiced and buttery syrup,

spooned over Rice Pudding, warm.

Judges kept staring and sniffing the air,

my table they waited to swarm.

 

Pork that melted right in their mouths

with a glaze that took them to heaven.

Imagine my shock when I was announced

the winner of a buck, ninety-seven.

 

 

02-26-11

©tlp 2011

Edited March 14, 2011 by moonqueen

[Tinker]

Hi Tammy, Thanks for playing.... never too late. I love the title, that alone is worth a prize. And the poem is just fun to read. Fluid rhythm, fun rhyme, sensual images that get the tastebuds juicing and a wonderful sense of humor. I commented more over at Member Submitted Poetry but this one is worth 2 comments.

 

~~Tink