"heinz" poems
**** a polar bear's funky ***
**** a racehorse's **** with Heinz Tomato Ketchup!
**** a donkey's ****** ***
**** a male camel's **** with Hoisen sauce!
**** a cheetah's ****
**** a cheetah's ****
**** a cheetah's ****
**** a cheetah's ****
**** a European bison's smelly ***
**** a woolly mammoth's **** with Miracle Whip!
**** a snow leopard's *** with whip cream!
**** a hyena's spermy ****
**** a cheetah's ****
**** a cheetah's ****
**** a cheetah's ****
**** a cheetah's ****
**** a llama's ****** *******
**** a panda bear's spermy *******
**** a sloth bear's bootyhole!
**** a greyhound's musty *** **********
**** a cheetah's ****
**** a cheetah's ****
**** a cheetah's ****
**** a cheetah's ****
Polaroid, see what develops
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 10:32 PM UTC
Tuesday night and it’s Baked Beans AGAIN! Does she ever stop talking.
I used to fool myself that her snore was musical like a sweet sounding flute,
Now it’s just a snore. Too loud, all too familiar.
What would happen I wonder if I took that tin of Baked Beans on the table
And battered her to death with it.
They found the ****** weapon in the cupboard on the top shelf,
Next to a quivering can of rice pudding.
It didn’t look overly angry or guilty, it looked (for what it’s worth)
Like any other tin of beans.
However it had blood and hair around the rim.
“BAKED BEANS **** the front page of The Sun would say,
Amnesty on all tinned goods called for, as the masses
Started taking ‘tin(g)s” into their own hands.
All over the country, partners dying at the hands of Heinz,
Or possibly cans of spam or pear slices.
The Army may catch on, a major new part of SAS training,
Close quarter baked bean tactics.
The wail of sirens as Police arrive at an incident
“Put down the weapon or we shall be forced to fire… tinned pineapple”.
A can of alphabetti spaghetti could spell death.
“Let’s not have Baked Beans tonight my love… Chinese?”
Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 5:09 AM UTC
Ketchup bottles have been taken off the shelves
Homes don’t even have ketchup themselves
French Fries, Hamburgers and Franks are all upset
But who in the world let?
A mystery we all must solve
We all must get involved
Look for clues in find
It’s the French Fries in who we must be kind
Let’s see of we can find any clues
We must be determined and not lose
There were traces of ketchup spills
Where there is a way is also a desired will
On the TV, there was a briefing at Heinz concerning why the ketchup was stolen
A competitor with its own brand recipe of ketchup stated, “Our ketchup is the best, and we are ready to do the test”
But will really contest?
Heinz has been around for years, but a new competitor wants to triumphed in preserver
Now how long can French Fries and other foods requiring ketchup continue in going plain?
Now the competitor being called, “ALL THE SPICES COMPANY, INC.”
ALL THE SPICES COMPANY, INC. does have a ring in its name
But what is their ingredient too whom they want us to be lame?
Now Heinz has a special blend, which they will never tell
Yet in the supermarket stores it does sell
But not knowing much about the competitor, how can they tell?
The Consumers have control in the flavor test
They will surely determine who is the best
Maybe more of less
Well after much tasting, Heinz was the victor without any effort
I am sorry to say, “ALL THE SPICES’ just couldn’t cut it
They wouldn’t have compared to even mustard
But don’t let me go there
However, just beware in who you feel is the best
Let your taste buds be the test
The French Fries can continue to have the ketchup style while competitor, “ALL THE SPICES” we be thinking on Heinz resources during while.
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 7:03 PM UTC
t'is a seasonal custom of us,
**(you did notice that us
is the centerpiece of c-us-tom?)**
that in December, not November
when turkey precedes...
I take my slip of a gal
for a big bowl of pasta
and white truffles from France.
the eyetalian waiter knows
he made the sale when her eyes,
crinkle wrinkle when I ask,
upon which pasta
does the ristorante serve the
white truffles from France?
fettuccine, naturalmente!
in ritual grandiose,
the mushroom grated before our eyes,
shavings and specks scattered and disbursed,
part one of the us in c-us-tom done.
me, I grew up lower middle cheap,
Ronzoni rigatoni and Heinz Ketchup,
not just good enough, but a treat,
and I did not from truffle oil eat
nor speak.
two thirds of the way,
part two, I say, hey!
you know you don't have to eat the whole thing.
with eyes adoring,
she fesses up her tiny tummy was full
about half way through.
but she knows
me, I grew up lower middle cheap,
hate to waste the money,
that comes so hard.
part two is the part of the c-us-tom
she forgets about, but the part that
she really loves me for,
so who cares how much truffles cost,
as far her eyes are concerned,
they crinkle wrinkle at the taste,
of my remembering part two.
Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 1:13 PM UTC
the one drop rule
invisible blackness
black versus white
different categories of race
created by man for evil purposes
such as caucasoid negroid and mongoloid
this is a bunch of hooey
these words are just terms for
marginalising whole groups of people
by some smarty pant with a so-called degree
in anthropology and sociology
who gives people the right to classify other racial groups
I pondered it - anyway just blue smoke and mirror stuff
created by some racist people organizations and institutions
by creating racial and class division plus religion creating wars
thus
God created man - singular form
thus
God created man from the earth (black mud)
and no accident that we are made from one blood
oh yeah - Adam's blood
mankind is just a very large extended family - based on DNA
Europeans are not 100% white
they became white because of environmental adaptations
and they are no better that the rest of God's creations on earth
skin color does not make one racial group superior than another
this is just a head and mind game for social and political advantages
however everyone is a Heinz 57 mixture
White People are mixed with so much stuff - too
oh yeah baby and who is your daddy now
race mixing has been around
throughout the history of mankind and still
it will continue to mix races in the future
just remember this
the neanderthal mated on a regular basis with the homosapien
no race is 100% pure of anything
according to one drop rule - White are neanderthals too
this one drop rule is a silly and hidden taboo that is just plain ludicrous
God is a good God
God is neither Black nor White but He is a Being of Existence of every dimension
God is the all of everything - seen and unseen
God exist in every creation
God is a part of you and me
the will of God lives in every place
God is justice and equality
God don't speech hate and racism
God is love and peace toward all mankind
God does not make men slaves
God gives man the right to be free
God wants man to be inherit the earth and be good stewards
Well ain't God good no matter how you look at it
yes He is good - all the time my brother
yes god is good and everlasting
amen amen amen
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 10:31 PM UTC
Oh those kids and
the cute things they will
say,
someday,
when they'll learn
to talk like
me,
when luckily,
they'll be
allgrowedup
just like me
inventiving words
just like me,
phrases like the one above
I just wrote
when I was informed
by the house chef,
what was yet to come
my eagerly anticipated
promised land
Sunday dinner of
meatballs and spaghetti,
with my special sauce,
Heinz Ketchup
yay!
I sure hope they grow up faster
so we can be
rolling on the floor
inventiving words
like
Sweetballs and Maaghetti
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 4:37 PM UTC
Ross was good,
Part-Choctaw, Part-Saskatchewan,
he'd sniff the air for his direction,
could spot a pebble out of place,
understand broken twigs.
He loved to work at night,
backtracking was a skill,
garroting his specialty,
he had fourteen dings.
Part-Celt, Part-Heinz-57
I understood similar things,
my notches stand
at just under ten.
Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 5:56 PM UTC
in the arms of a stranger, it's so long to 'how long,'
the ending-writ being composed in the arms of a stranger,
the surprise, the uncomplicated simplicity of a "yes, why not"
the normalcy of the out of the ordinary has a finery that's
abnormally kind in a peculiar way & a comfortable shiny finish of a cry and a 'whew,' a laugh, a pause, a kiss on the nose,
that's familiar from a who knows me, who knows where, a silence,
a kindness to pass the collection plate of stored memory genes now
kickstarted hot and then a transition to the here and now of
hysterically funny bad jokes, a beer and a wine, and a Samuel Barber adagio that seals some of the open wounds and one can't stop thinking, thank god for the little things, the big ones never get resolved anyway, so the arms of a stranger, the long neck, tan shoulders, the eyes culling a list of unasked questions, looking for the crease in the pauses and an entry point to the decision of crossing the river of no return from the security of being strangers, whose bodies sang a two part harmony coming to a closing, last call from the barkeep lady tossing you your pants with an
awshit and the widest Mississippi River grin you've ever seen
and she asks do you like steak and laughs when the response is "with extra sizzle and Heinz ketchup" and the answer means the other questions will keep, at least for now and until
the violin weeping of a chest breathing hard but slow on the device
has played thrice, and the arms of easy are now fraught with the scent of risk, when the next the line is crossed with a followup of
"fries or baked potato?"
and it's too late, the memory machine has started recording and what is truly strange is that you can't recall what the day of the week tomorrow will be and if you have any plans that must be kept and that doesn't seem to be of any concern of anybody in the immediate vicinity of the her who's unconsciously humming the wholly appropriate, interesting choice, best love song, that Dolly Parton ever wrote^
Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 5:51 PM UTC
**** preferable,
but not necessary.
place your hands upon thy thighs,
the thumbs extended,
left to rest,
to fit in the designed, purposed crevice
between the upper torso,
where the soft belly
meets the legs.
your opposable thumbs,
too short to reach
your private part,
instead, your four fingers
to thrum, to drum,
driven by frustrated compulsion,
beat out upon thy exterior
the internal feel,
a basic rhythm.
the arms,
hard by,
press tight into the chest,
the birth place of poems,
and squeeze,
as if it were a
Heinz Ketchup bottle.
the tapping fingerlings,
the now drifting yet compulsed mind,
the hard-sided pressure,
voila, words form,
heat-furnaced,
energized from within,
all at once will be extruded from
a poem's birth canal,
the heart.
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 6:36 AM UTC
The List:
carrot, eggplant, arbi,
capsicum, green peas -
press one for more options -
apples, new list apps
applesauce and ketchup
not Heinz but the cheaper one,
a new pressure cooker because the whistle doesn’t work
And with each tweak it tizzles out more,
theek nahi hai, yaar
no matter how many times you take it in,
it’s just jugaad again,
a permanent temporary fix,
so we need a new one, stainless
steel and big, bara
to cook all of your dreams.
grand total rages against your wallet,
paper thin but it’s digital,
anyway,
your eyes glaze, blaze
as the bag boy, too tired, too hassled,
too underpaid squishes the eggs
beneath the cooker
the shells quake in your eardrums
the smell of something rotten
beneath all those discounts.
Sep 18, 2020
Sep 18, 2020 at 10:14 AM UTC
My dear you gave me a **** attack !
Indeed i'm gassed up from your snack
Some curry laced with heinz baked beans !!
And i don't know just what it means ?
I sit here waiting filled with awe ! ...full of gas ...please no more !
FAAAARRRRRRRRTTTTTTTT !!!!!!!! ..oh lord please help me do !!
I can't go on ...i need a poo !!
Now i'm stuck here , on the bog... for ages trying to end this log !!
I'm drained ..i'm strained and really sore ...i'm never gonna eat no more : (
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 4:58 PM UTC
far wide overseas and here
my kin are so ingrained in me all phases
of them the Irish
German Dutch Cherokee
Heinz Fifty Seven and more
I am a mutt
don't know one person here who isn't
so take claim
to nothing all you
traditionalists that cry for
America's sovereignity
it ain't so
we all mixed
not a pure American here more than me
or anyone
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 10:46 PM UTC
Like a lucid dream I found myself sauntering in the gritty streets. Downtown LA’s clash of modern and dilapidated buildings, the uptight and hollow people, the overwhelming trash, and the smog all perpetuating distant feelings. In a flash it became 7 AM on a Wednesday, I awoke to the breaking of ground, the hard concrete shattering like glass under the drill; the pounding reverberating through my undisturbed space. The hot and heavy sun ripped through my sealed shades illuminating my immaculate mundane walls. It had an asylum like feel, driving the synapses in my brain far from insane. I had fallen asleep with no recollection of the night before, I wasn’t drunk but I was still high, still not enough to forget yesterday’s mishaps. I walked out into the ***** kitchen, not my dishes and not my mess. The garbage had been piling up for what seemed like a month, beer cans and pasta stuck to the carpet like glue on paper. I drank my coffee and I ate my breakfast alone, the house was a dump by any means, potentially able to be something else but not. It felt like we were on the verge of Cool Whip and Wonder Bread sandwiches, like Heinz ketchup on macaroni; you could say we lacked a certain taste and quality. It felt like rubbing Crisco instead of baby oil on her body, it all amounted to a lesser substance than we all could fathom. We became complacent and insincere towards the world; it could have been the apocalypse and we still would have been the same. There was no security, there was no protection and future if we couldn't even deal with our selves. We all aspired to an opulent existence and an equal stake in this burdened world, it being not even remotely conceivable. We walked over the dead and those waiting to die, in hopes that we were worthy of more. The blankness took root over my Wednesday and I had nothing to show, who knew what future I would own. All I had was this ***** ole house, and a shared space that I could no longer bare.
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 12:26 PM UTC
got
up yesterday
and took
a ****
straight into a
can of heinz baked
beans
then placed
back into the freezer.
some days down
the line
an acquantence
found the beans
and took a bite
and complimented my culinary ability.
branches
were swining outside
from the coming
hurricane
and few
lizards
rolled underneat the carpet so as to escape the elements
and absorb the warmth.
suzy
is still crazy,
but she died in december.
george is ugly
like a cancerous bat-faced
ectomorph
but has a heart of gold.
larry is just a ***
and he knows it.
but some nights
i still cuddle
with dawn
and speak to the mermaids that kiss me goodnight
as i stroke myself
to sleep
in a dull
memory
and voided
receipt that is the 'hour of beguilement'.
May 31, 2017
May 31, 2017 at 12:54 AM UTC
For the fourth time
since July 29
I watered your
Heinz 57
neglect again
count on being chained.
Sep 8, 2016
Sep 8, 2016 at 5:54 AM UTC
Back from Iraq 4/04
my son just got back from his second tour in Iraq
no ticker-tape parade
no welcome home celebration
no media coverage
“Good Morning, America” doesn’t spoil breakfast
with the newscast
no one should see the caskets
being unloaded from the plane
the 23 flag draped caskets
they do show pictures of prisoner abuse this day
as yesterday
and the day before
my son just got back from his second tour in Iraq
the first time my son came home was with fanfare
every television channel
“Mission Accomplished,” resounded the banner
behind our president
on the aircraft carrier
thumbs up
dressed as a genuine military man
my son just got back from his second tour in Iraq
the stock market reports
an upward surge in Halliburton this day
the television airs a commercial
approved by John Kerry
condemning jobs sent to other nations
not mentioning Mexico
nor his wife of Heinz fame
or the 23 flag draped coffins
my son just got back from his second tour in Iraq
my son is in the plane
the plane with the 23 flag draped caskets
he serves on the flight crew
my son just got back from his second tour in Iraq
23 other sons just got back
from their tours in Iraq
they won’t have to return
but my son most certainly will
Feb 18, 2018
Feb 18, 2018 at 11:23 PM UTC
Teach the rich the truth
Tell the broke the lies
That's why private schools no Christopher Columbus took millions of lives
but the publics schools think he was the best thing to ever Arrive
you see how this system
from a young age manipulates
our lives
The people pulling the strings are smart
It's no coincidence series of
Unfortunate events that made this
The schools that need the most always lack
I know I wrote a poem about having kids
But I don't want none
Seeing from my parents how much you
Will love them
And you don't want anyone to take something
They need from them
I was always told subconsciously
I couldn't have none
The church told be happy with crumb
My father told me I couldn't go to the school that I wanted
Unless the football field got me there
It wasn't his fault
He just was always taught
That a black man cant excel in this life
With out a sport games
My people got back pains
From invisible chains
That were replaced but never erased
Just put in plane sight to
Make everyone think things are
Alright
we just want equality
The people pulling the strings are smart
Why you think unity is so hard
History taught
Harriet Tubman was a fugitive
Fredrick Douglas a criminal
MLK and Malcolm X were
Disobedient
Subconsciously telling us
That even the great leaders
Who stood up for what's right were
Wrong
I'm tired of singing this song
Equality
Don't tell me laziness
Created my poverty
Cause granny been working
Shoulda retired years ago
I think it's probably
Cause the system was created
Before any minority could debate it
Now we working to play catch up
As they leave us red as Heinz ketchup
Leave our cries unseen
Equality
You don't need a PH.D. To define this
Equality it shouldn't be this hard u see we want equality.
Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 2:59 PM UTC
We tried to grow red roses;
But they were rotten from root, out of place,
In a colorful meadow we once called our own,
When you left me, running away without a trace,
We tried to grow red roses;
Maybe they would have bloomed, had you stayed,
But I doubt it, your thumb is as green as your heart,
Instead you left me to rejuvenate your rot and decay,
We tried to grow red roses;
But the seeds hadn't a chance, you knew from the start,
Emotionally unavailable gardeners reap what they sew,
I found many fields, where you also crossed your heart,
We tried to grow red roses;
Talking other gardener's into broken and cracked promises,
Already planning on your next field to seed rot through,
Heinz-sight exposed your compromises to excuses,
We tried to grow red roses;
But they are nothing but ash and grey dust in the wind,
See my garden now comes with fences and lie detectors,
To detect liars like you, throwing them in my compost bin,
I will regrow those red roses;
So they bloom brilliantly, they will shake in effervescence,
With both of my gentle hands, without your green heart,
So they know a love that is constant and not just convenient,
I will regrow those red roses;
So that I can learn to love my garden again, in all its glory,
Not one just filled with roses but bluebells, daffodils, violets,
And when you come back, Gaze upon me with green envy.
Apr 7, 2020
Apr 7, 2020 at 12:13 AM UTC
~ for the grandson of an extraordinary man~
<>
the supply chain, which unless
you’re a logistics aficionado,
is
alot of ve-hicles, planes,
trains, ocean going monster ships,
& shaking hands of humans, of a
Heinz variety of colors,
who give nary a moment to what
it is they are moving across a planet
all miraculous in the ordinary
schema, but when you slump
in the recliner, and think about
chains, and the reach extraordinary
you issue a curse of admiration and
lean back and think, with luck,
I’ll never have to move ever again,
and more moment’s preserved,
to serve and be served,
for all us deserving,
to let words and visions get
passed around, and the supply
***chain unchains
the human soul for
the best thing us you~mans can truly
produce,
the art of new creation***
4:07am
Dec 15, 2024
Dec 15, 2024 at 4:12 AM UTC
(presumably still alive
predicated on rumored sightings dive
ving fast as blazing saddles,
her blitzkrieg,
nothing but a blurry beehive.)
Swifter than Usain
(lightening) Bolt
Eden Liat
(thine eldest daughter,
a mixed hybrid breed
greyhound and whippet)
leaves in the dust
topnotch any racehorse
prompting speculation,
she harkens, and begat
from a long line,
sans award
(at trough feed ding),
many a cooly
winning super naturally
infused awk worded Colt
surpassing (with a flash,
plus even sub track ting
considerable handi
capped add halt
ting delay), thine
prestigious, princess,
and prodigious exalt
ting marathon running
smart lee zipping
as a whip lash heiress,
thru no fault
in the stars
of her astrological designs
oft times humbly declines
adulation, benediction, dedication
and deferentially finds
reasons amazingly, gracefully,
and mannerly deflects
self imposed grueling practices,
that she quickly grinds
into pulverized powder,
any high top custom made
high tech lines
brand name
threadbare sneakers saved
with countless
trophies that aligns
storied (and stuffed
animal bedecked)
bookshelf, even gag
me with a spoon
humor tinged competitions,
faux rotten tum ate oh
(John Heinz)
seeded "ketchup with me"
hash-tag game
opened to all kinds
of village people, including
some barenaked ladies,
where flashy Mainliners
dressed to the nines
(essentially for sound
garden variety public,
who generally favor squash),
that crop up during
Indian Summer salad days
punctuates the warm air,
where one after
another lover doth appear
oak kay embracing ephemeral
pseudo sappy romance
spine tingling
as sharp needling pines.
Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 3:21 PM UTC
A slow English Sunday must include
a brewing *** of Darjeeling tea,
hot toast with Anchor butter
and plenty of smoked Danish bacon.
Oh, yes - and Heinz tomato ketchup.
It makes you proud of your heritage.
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 3:39 PM UTC