by Karim Noormohamed |
Categories:
love,
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more grating and much more vile.
Foul winds do exit your own mouth today,
Makes me want to put you to sleep awhile.
Sometimes I’d slice some sort of soft sausage,
And often wish it was in fact your face;
Every incision, precision and rage.
I run away as fast, as thou keeps pace.
But the eternal pain in *** of mine
Which thou creates, for thou art a big toad;
Even to death’s eye would thou bring him brine,
Refusing you entrance to his abode.
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, men will come to hate thee.
by Jan Allison |
Categories:
food, humorous, valentines day,
I need meat on Valentine ’s Day
A Love Sausage was on display
We will eat one tonight
And to hubbies delight
Much later he will get a lay
But hubby keeps pestering me.
To see my ‘pasties’ after tea.
I will give him some hassle.
About my titty tassle,
Cos they are not very comfy
I admit, yes I have to confess,
A love sausage brought from M & S,
Is a valentines treat,
Cos I do love my meat,
And there’s ‘pasties’ under my dress!
Fictional Poem For Libralori who loves eating Croissant's, thanks for the inspiration!
*M & S is a British Store, they are selling 'love sausages' for Valentine's Day
02/14/22
by Darren Watson |
Categories:
funny,
I love a bacon sandwich
and I'm partial to a sausage or two
I can't think of anything nicer
Than a dumpling with beef stew .
Then I pulled a vegetarian
A real tree hugging babe
She tried to tell me eating meat
Would put me in my grave .
Urgh , What is that you're eating
You're a murderer she cried .
No its not a human ,Just a rabbit
I replied .
How did that rabbit die
Now she was really in a mood
It died of friggin starvation
because she ate all its food.
by Kay Roberts |
Categories:
birthday, childhood, family, food, grandmother, growing up, memory,
From fruit scones, to meat pie,
Apple crumble and coffee cake,
Sunday tea was amazing,
Because, my Granny sure could bake.
Secret ingredients, she wouldn't divulge,
Passed down from years gone by,
When I look back on those days,
It brings a tear to my eye.
From butterfly buns, to Victoria sponge,
A moist fruit loaf, filled with flavour,
Jam tarts and gingerbread men,
For the kids to savour.
Sausage rolls and a birthday cake,
Made for a special party tea,
Cheese and onion pie a fresh baked loaf,
All made especially for family.
Granny's recipes are the best recipes,
Made of all things nice,
A Granny's love as the main ingredient,
To add that extra bit of allspice.
by David Brooks |
Categories:
caregiving, childhood, dedication, family, love, mother, parents,
She rose each day to roll the dough,
by 5:00 AM, she served.
Her apron tight around her waist,
Her heart ne'er seemed unnerved.
Eggs and bacon, sausage and grits,
the fare always the same.
She sipped her coffee. Spied her man,
still dark, before sunrise came.
Finished, he rose. Donned his cap
and kissed her on the cheek.
He knew his strength came from her.
Though quiet, she's ne'er meek.
Pat her on the fanny,
and praise her for the meal.
He'd saunter down those old back steps,
another day to kill.
She'd sit a while, and think to herself
a mom with kids to tend.
That soon would be time for them to rise,
then she'd do it all again.
by Carma Sanderson |
Categories:
mystery
Breakfast Her Way
His lurking sausage rises;
to sun-rise, seeping in, my
outer lips, a mix
blend, of juices that
shiver the inner thigh, patty-
cake, patty-cake, quake, we
bake to shake, bodies in full
throttle, against times love,
where we have sweat rains
pour, dripping sheets, she' ll
have him, breakfast her way,
down boy, come and get it,
and eat with digression,
cause its not the sex;
that's gives pleasure,
it's the lover, and how he
Tames, himslf, wid slickness...
~CR~
01-31-13
by James Fredholm |
Categories:
introspection, love, time, time,
From time to time the mould gets broken,
And shatters into unspoken pieces. Chaos,
The lack of form, supplants the frozen norm.
Relief is sweet, like breathing out a stone.
Each time I stagger to my dizzy feet and climb
back out of that grinding sausage machine,
opening doors, energy forms, release me
Into a wave of darkness and dreams.
Until, invisible hands, guide me, pull me
Urge me forward, until I can hear
the call, clearly and beyond all doubt,
I jump, I fall, I feel her waiting arms
and disappearing from all, until,
possessed, I am in her hands now.
by Joanna Williams |
Categories:
emotions, pain, sorrow,
What do you have for breakfast?
You have the waffles drenched in syrup,
The cereal overflowing with milk,
Plates assorted with sausage and bacon.
You have the spoonfuls of yogurt,
The variety of fresh fruit,
Plates of soft muffins,
And you enjoy every moment.
What do I have for breakfast?
I have hope drenched in war,
Thoughts overflowing with pain,
Conflicts assorted with hate and fate.
I have love smeared with shame,
Memories drowning in fear,
Conflicts towering empty chances.
I have spoonfuls of doubt,
The variety of soft journeys,
And I always swallow it whole.
by Doris Culverhouse |
Categories:
funny
With a name like Wiener....
What did you expect?
He thought everyone was in love with his weener!
Or is his a cocktail sausage?
by Micah Freeman |
Categories:
love
Waffle House
IHOP
Make me some bacon
Pancakes and sausage
Your breakfast I'm achin
Pitchers of coffee
Sugar and cream
Biscuits and gravy
Fillin my dreams
:)
by Panagiota Romios |
Categories:
emotions, imagery, love, winter,
The symphonic stillness when only two hearts in winter are aglow.
Like walking fireplaces in the glistening snow.
I see our pizza oven in the kitchen baking the pizza you made.
The aroma of garlic, sausage and oregano, a scented cascade.
After sharing glasses of Chianti, it's our dance show!
Have I ever told you how much I love you so?
Dancing on thick carpets, our bare toes,embracing shamelessly.
The deer in our backyard prancing endlessly.
I have never understood why loving you is wrong.
In my full heart, I have no room for such a song!
December 19, 2019
Dedication to My Cousin
by Caren Krutsinger |
Categories:
addiction, food,
I am part werewolf part vampire
My vice is gluttony; I love to overeat
My werewolf side devours beef in a sloppy messy way
My vampire side does not want it fully cooked
I have an advantage over others
People cringe when I show my carnivore tendencies
Fearing my gnashing happy teeth
Some scream and run off; I love that!
I keep a storehouse of foods ready to eat.
Beef, chicken, steak, sausage, and other meats.
They are my go-to choices.
But I would not kick a great baked potato off my menu.
What about desserts you ask?
Werewolf likes moon pies, but my vampire side needs something red.
Red Jell-o, strawberry shortcake, cherry cobbler.
It is fun being a combination glutton
by Ann Gilmour |
Categories:
dog, happiness, heart, love,
A sweet new pup
came into my life
So young is he
but sadly you see
Already
I am his third Mum
Abandoned twice
Through no fault of his own
He lived in a dog sanctuary
And as soon as I saw him
this darling Dachshund
came home to live here with me
Giving such joy
this sweet gorgeous boy
His previous name was Mouse
An unusual name
but then again
‘tis fun having Mouse in my house
Some folks call them sausage dogs
although not me
a sausage
nor a mouse is he
He's a darling Dachshund
who has stolen my heart
when he came home to live here with me
TENTH PLACE
'NO 1258 NEW POEM ONLY' PREMIERE CONTEST
Sponsor Brian Strand
by Allan Terry |
Categories:
art, celebration, creation, fashion, food, loneliness, sea,
she was inspired by a famous actor who married an actress
from a the big city. When they became engaged they moved to a small town
and grew, hot peppers and would pickle them with apples and zuchinni, they were delicious. They saw an ad for sale of a recipe for sausages, the owner was moving to Europe, he wanted sell the rights to his very popular and special recipe. The couple decided to buy the recipe, and renamed it Souffer, and served the mild and sweet sausage with there pickled peppers and Zuchini and apples, people loved it and they became a main feature and an attraction at their shin ding's. It's said to be the "love item" mentioned in the groove, "hot ripe and ready."
by Randy Johnson |
Categories:
funny, husband, wife, wife,
(This is a fictional poem
I put a magic hat on my snowman and he came to life.
But then he had sex with my wife.
He had coal for eyes, a carrot for a nose and two arms that were made out of
sticks.
Then my wife gave him a sausage for a ####.
My snowman and my wife fell in love and they wanted to be together.
But they needed to get to the North Pole because we were going to have warm
weather.
At first misery was what I felt.
But we got warm weather sooner than expected and I enjoyed seeing him melt.
by Caren Krutsinger |
Categories:
weather,
Eight degrees currently
I am not concerned
feeding on my sausage corndog
wrapped in syrupy pancake batter
enjoying the warmth of my house
in no hurry to face the bitter winter day
probably a zillion calories in each nibble
do not care in the least
love this marvelous newly found item
found in the frozen Jimmy Dean section
I devour it with gusto
sated, satisfied and unconcerned.
by Pivotal Poetry |
Categories:
christmas, hope, love, magic, miracle, snow, summer,
I still believe in Love
and the magical realm above
the mistletoe and Christmas glow
hot choc mint, white soft snow
But in Australia, it’s summer time
loads of flies, in their prime
sausage sizzles, sweltering days
tanning under, the sun’s rays
I still believe, in dreams coming true
but alone each year, brings sparks of blue
Now once again, Christmas is here
so I force a smile and give a cheer
Others are hurting, more than I
so I wish them well, as they look to the sky
We mustn’t give in, we must not mope
Miracles happen, don’t give up hope.
by Caren Krutsinger |
Categories:
food, fun,
Me Cookie Monster and Oreos are for me!
Me love Oreos today, as you can clearly see!
Popcorn flavored, taco Oreos two!
They are all for me, maybe one for you!
Me Cookie Monster and Oreos are for me.
Banana nut Oreos, sure. Just call me monkey.
Sausage flavor? YUM YUM I can eat more!
Mushroom flavored? Okay. Shut the front door.
Me Cookie Monster and Oreos are for me.
Pepperoni Pizza Flavored Oreos? Tasty they must be!
Me Cookie and Oreos are for me.
Butternut raspberry donut flavored? Sure hand them up to me!
by Eric Ashford |
Categories:
poetry,
I am tall-table young.
Mum turns up the blue flames,
lowers the thick sausages.
Dripping crackles,
the iron skillet is licked with fat,
a nutritive sizzle.
The meat finds its voice;
a splutter of buttery smaze.
The pork is in bloom,
the animal inside the flesh
disappearing,
the meat opening florets of aroma.
Mother turns, cheeks flushed,
not looking at me,
seeing only a man who will arrive soon,
say’s out loud:
“He will love these.”
My stomach cramps
with an acidic disappointment.