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"beefsteak" poems
Hamburger Hell Beefsteak Charlie says to Porky the Pig I can see the party lights someone's throwin' a bash and it sure looks big down at the slaughter house tonight say lets get together and hit the buffet you might as well stuff yourself they'll only throw it away Old Colonel Sanders says to Elsie the Cow golly baby you're the one two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, pickel, cheese, onions on a sesame seed bun say we just got time for a roll in the hay might as well stuff yourself they're here to take you away I know where you're going, I can tell don't go looking for me down in Hamburger Hell don't misunderstand me I wish you well don't go looking for me down in Hamburger Hell lyrics by Todd Rundgren Gomer LePoet...
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Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 10:45 PM UTC
Hamburger Hell
white roses and Jacob's Coat purple bearded irises and ferns dark red wax begonias scents of night jasmine French lavender antique tea roses loquat, plum, guava and lemon trees all swaying with an ocean breeze casting shadows in the setting sun memories of childhood bamboo and nipa houses coconut groves and fragrant banana witches, faeries and wok-woks a favorite white haired grandfather living off land and sea harvesting root crops and fruit fishing for viand barefoot and ******* sarongs in a private paradise miles from town bonfire festivities tuba wine and drunken salamats an open adoption a house tiled with affluence and visits back home a war's interruption people lost or found married off to life in America lumpia, pancit, beefsteak and beeco spaghetti, burgers, *** roast and pizza dinner's table set for eleven the house on Wagner street the loss of husband and son advancing age and declining health ER's and ICU's a final farewell a garden of children grand children and great grand children branches in Lala's family tree her progeny sprouting roots looking to the future
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Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 9:56 PM UTC
LALA'S GARDEN
That class is sponsoring a thorough bred fair—creating war winning story that doesn't fit neatly onto a bumper sticker. Only a standard reply from featherless wing—bloviating an appeal to the conscientious authority. Go back: polish the Augean non-staples, rear up stallions to break geldings, eat beefsteak, drink whiskey at whistle, stop. That class only teaches a Greek hero clean-up. Meanwhile, they claim victory.
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Oct 23, 2011
Oct 23, 2011 at 10:29 AM UTC
XXIV.
Summer time - the romantic time - for picnic in the park - with obscene ******** She has a smile - that is not ***** - but is clean, and praiseful; witnessing the heavens - declare our glory. Naughty? Wanton? Sin is puzzled... Assuming wrongly it pauses. Beefsteak lollipop creamhorn, and chocolate cake, cherry bon bon, honeysuckle with coffee. Shocking the sordid and sullen, as they look for wickedness to relate to. The warmth of God upon us... Elohim, Adonai, Tetrgrammaton, Jesus! © S. Wesley Mcgranor 6/10/96
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Feb 15, 2021
Feb 15, 2021 at 2:11 AM UTC
More Animated
my granfather cultivated beefsteak and ox heart tomatoes great big red things bigger than his gnarled and ropy fist smelling of acid and sun shine and deep rich goodness he would sit at the table and seperate the seeds out of the pink granular flesh like a surgeon and they would sit like pink red sago on cut pieces of yesterdays news set upon the window ledge gross yet compelling there they dried out in the sun and were sorted for planting some discarded as not good enough some set aside for the "prize winning" bed the plot of soil that got the best sun the best compost, and some watered concoction that smelt of things dead and rotting I once asked what made a good tomato seed his reply," you just know girlie.... you know the ones that are going to be great" tomato growing was serious business to my grandpa
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Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 4:48 AM UTC
beefsteak and oxheart
When I was younger, I washed lettuce heads in cold water. I would set them on my cutting board, gently, as if my hands hummed with lullabies. I lifted tomatoes from their cardboard carton beds and lined them in a row like nursery babies, my starched jacket always white and clean. I knew romaine and bibb, beefsteak and cherry. I kept my hair tied back, my nails short, the right knife sharp and at the ready. I didn't know, then that lovers remember the wine, not the greens; the sugar, not the side plate. I wish you were here to kiss my hands with their swollen knuckles and cut scars. What was I doing with my tenderness when I had someone who wanted it? When I was younger, I had a paying job, a small talent, and a driver with a dolly at the back door coming every day to keep my walk-in cooler stocked. I thought that was bounty. I thought there was no harm in staying on through another fall, never considering that what I made was not mine, Or that someone else was paying for it all. _______
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Aug 24, 2025
Aug 24, 2025 at 10:20 AM UTC
Pantry Chef
Honey___...** slide Beehive Hand it over high five The Spa his face peel The great closure When you have nothing It's quite a pleasure to touch to come closer hug to feel Moms home potato Latkes enjoying her meal ((The Great Lakes)) The tough skin on The outside picnic Checkerboard cover inside Is the sour cream taking sides With his cup, I am beside him yum? Layers of me sweet---/Pie/ Slightly salted spread-tie He buttered me Those words well graded or grated Peel me grate me The greater expectation The flirtation with the bigger than life Engagement to please me whats between The beefsteak rye Restarts his engine The greater speed Eyes doorway style The Regime true lie So Sublime the greater love mile A desperate glimpse of hope The graphical logical scope but fear ever so near The presence Changing color forms Grate me in love forms All terms Our names became all good germs No way out to cope My greater expectation So familiar he met my tears # + years Peel me grate--- me The greater times He resides The greater you are Why do we leave to hide Emotion so intense Someone must be greater With the aging romance Divination______* Words the greater poets Do you just know? Or no, if's  or buts You just feel it Oh! yes or Love me not or so tied together the peel me grate me Whats greater than two lovers** We made the Knot So cared for At its best communication The whole entire nation
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May 30, 2018
May 30, 2018 at 11:08 AM UTC
Peel Me Grate Me-Greater
Faint smell of waste. Rotting garbage, feces and human body order. The room reeked of an intolerable stench. Cracked eggshells, molding lettuce, slices of beefsteak tomatoes, month old used coffee grounds, and a pair of peed on gym socks among countless other smelly disgusting things like cat **** "Close the ******* garbage can" ' it stinks as much as your guilty conscious' My hand flung forward with indecision, still closed into a fist. What was I striking? I couldn't see and didn't want hurt myself like so many times before. Schizophrenic, pleaded with with myself. Time slowed to make room to for chaotic thoughts. Slow motions, knuckles seeped into a black goo. Other hand flat, slapped at the abyss. The darkness grabbed me by both hands and dragged me into myself. A full moon and a tender loving voice. Blackness. A brewing fire floating above a swimming pool like the eye of a pyramid where deities danced. Everybody I saw under its light gazed towards the idealization of eternal salvation. I stared at the pool, fire, pyramid and its constituents. Blackness. A maze of hallways. Red-brown brick, vinyl, some glass looking down at the pool where children baptized themselves while parents drank the poison of cultural self-identification. 'At least they know who and where they are' I took a right, then a left then two more rights down a endless spiral. Blackness. In angry reconstitution, my mind-state formed lists of things to be furious about. These lists of things were all in plain sight. 'An obvious case of nearsightedness' The whole room had changed from how i once remembered. The bed was moved as well as the bed stand. Clothes scattered and materialistic shrine of self destroyed. The aura of the room had gone from blue to green. I pledged with violent resolution to solve my issues. Until I smelt the room poisoned with pheromones unlike mine. Until I dropped to my knees and felt somebody i loved and despised. Her smile greeted me while, simultaneously, my heart erupted like an early morning thunder shower. I always loved those type of showers.
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Sep 17, 2016
Sep 17, 2016 at 5:36 AM UTC
Untitled
Faint smell of waste. Rotting garbage, feces and human body order. The room reeked of an intolerable stench. Cracked eggshells, molding lettuce, slices of beefsteak tomatoes, month old used coffee grounds, and a pair of peed on gym socks among countless other smelly disgusting things like cat **** "Close the ******* garbage can" ' it stinks as much as your guilty conscious' My hand flung forward with indecision, still closed into a fist. What was I striking? I couldn't see and didn't want hurt myself like so many times before. Schizophrenic, pleaded with with myself. Time slowed to make room to for chaotic thoughts. Slow motions, knuckles seeped into a black goo. Other hand flat, slapped at the abyss. The darkness grabbed me by both hands and dragged me into myself. A full moon and a tender loving voice. Blackness. A brewing fire floating above a swimming pool like the eye of a pyramid where deities danced. Everybody I saw under its light gazed towards the idealization of eternal salvation. I stared at the pool, fire, pyramid and its constituents. Blackness. A maze of hallways. Red-brown brick, vinyl, some glass looking down at the pool where children baptized themselves while parents drank the poison of cultural self-identification. 'At least they know who and where they are' I took a right, then a left then two more rights down a endless spiral. Blackness. In angry reconstitution, my mind-state formed lists of things to be furious about. These lists of things were all in plain sight. 'An obvious case of nearsightedness' The whole room had changed from how i once remembered. The bed was moved as well as the bed stand. Clothes scattered and materialistic shrine of self destroyed. The aura of the room had gone from blue to green. I pledged with violent resolution to solve my issues. Until I smelt the room poisoned with pheromones unlike mine. Until I dropped to my knees and felt somebody i loved and despised. Her smile greeted me while, simultaneously, my heart erupted like an early morning thunder shower. I always loved those type of showers.
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he fed the kitty a little fish she expressed pity for such a small dish wheres the beef her tongue curled preening in disbelief as her eyes hurled his heart sank at her prissy mood drawing a blank he said its only food take a bite he coaxed it surely wont hurt a palette stroked for this little squirt she feigned a headache laying hoax for fish her wills in need of beefsteak leaving his shriveled wishes on closed doors his saddened heart pours Logan Robertson 7/16/17
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Jul 16, 2017
Jul 16, 2017 at 1:23 AM UTC
On Closed Doors