"ihop" poems
I like to remember that time
that we went to IHOP breakfast for the first time
You didnt know
but i was really nervous
and you started singing bohemian rhapsody
and i joined in
it made me feel better
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 1:10 AM UTC
Driving around this valley of sheets
When I see a IHOP and realize
that a sudden hunger has come over me
They say Come Hungry, Leave Happy, and
with one glance at your buns, perfectly made
I realize that I have been staring far too long.
Like Taco Bell, I should Think Outside The Bun
But as I pass a Burger King I begin to wonder
how many possible ways there really are
to Have It Your Way, and as I lay you down
I smile at the thought of how wonderful the taste
of each one of your Baskin Robbins 31 Flavors will be.
While I start to undress you I pause, hesitant
With your smile and slow rhythmic breaths
a song bursts into my head with a just one tip
as if I'm at Cold Stone, and I think, just Let Yourself Go.
"Where to start?" I ask as I glance up at Subway
and I am reminded that I should always Eat Fresh.
I should go in slow, but I dive right in like a bucket of KFC
The scent of you, so enticing. The taste, Finger Lickin' Good
I'll savor every moment, and by the subtle McDonald's arches
that your back resembles, I'm Lovin' It and so are you.
I grab a handful at ******* and realize that this poem
is Delightfully Tacky, Yet Unrefined. Nonetheless,
I can tell by the look in your eyes that you are ready
Asking the same question that they ask at Wendy's
Where's The Beef?
Mar 28, 2011
Mar 28, 2011 at 1:30 PM UTC
Who else felt the night coming off the tracks,
When we first stepped into that crowded, 1 bedroom apartment,
For the 21st birthday of a guy we knew (his friends, we didn't)?
Strangers derailed and built up drunken tension.
That settled once he found the smoke,
You found the beer,
And I brought the ***
I know my regrets.
But do you still enjoy the white line you crossed...
Off the counter top,
Before we left for IHop?
You hit me, held my hand, and made me promise in the stall,
(where I held your hair just last week)
That I won't tell.
I won't.
We loaded up in the car to go back,
But got stopped along the way.
Two pipes, one baggie, and an open container later...
Maybe birthday boy became a man,
Sometime between when he got cuffed...
And when he apologized.
Was it just me or....
Were the State Troopers cutest when they lined us girls up,
Looked at us,
And let us go?
Just in time for Mother's Day.
May 14, 2012
May 14, 2012 at 2:31 AM UTC
I remember as if it were yesterday,
You were helping me with math problems once again,
We would sit there for hours,
Sketching various triangles with one simple pen.
I can never forget,
The college-level words you asked me to spell,
We both were in complete fascination and suspense,
As far as I can tell.
I recall you teaching me a bit of yiddish as well,
"Yachna and fashlepta chlank,"
I annuciated so well,
This was no prank.
I remmeber beating you in shuffle board,
But It still might have been a tie,
Because you played exceptionally well,
As good and sweet as pie.
I will always remember,
Our long walks in Greak Neck,
Papa and Shari bonding,
While watching the beautiful scenery from the deck.
I remember you took me to the beach in Greak Neck,
Where we surprised Bubbie with a large horseshoe crab,
Bubbie was frozen will fear,
And almost took a cab.
The late night outdoor concerts,
You used to take me to,
I became really fond of the music,
And the massive amount of ***** in you.
Now I know this next line is going to seem quite strange,
But I remember blowing the garage door open with all my might,
Thinking that is how it's supposed to open,
And proud of myself for shining bright.
One of the best of times,
Was when you took me to the golfing range,
I swung the club multiple times missing the ball,
Calling myself deranged.
The days when we all went to ihop,
And to piccolos for lunch,
Everything was delectable,
Thanks a bunch!
We've been to the movies many times,
Where we'd sometimes surprisingly cry,
Bubbie would say, "Oh, my God look at Papa,"
But your reasons for crying were beautifully justified.
Just the thought of me coming to visit you,
Makes me form such a luminous smile,
Because there is no other Papa like you,
A Papa so outgoing, loving, and all the worth while.
Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 8:54 PM UTC
The Boy called Tony by his grandpa and others, lights up his corner of the world. Be it kids or very old Big Kids,(adults who are kids at heart) wherever he goes, “Hi. My name is Tony. What is your name?” Usually following this introduction, if the response is received warmly is, “How old are you?” Than after that is decided, “My grandpa is really old.”
Kindergarten year saw the two of them at the Arctic Circle most days after school. The older “Big Kids”would see him come into Arctic Circle and wait for their turn to talk to the Boy called Tony.
Many times they stopped at Tony’s and Gpa’s table and talked before leaving. New people who had not talked to him before but “listened in” on Tony and Friends conversation, they would then stop at the table to say what a “delightful little boy he is”.
At the time of this writing, sitting in Arctic Circle, he is regaling a mother about the fine points of Pac Man and Frogger on Gpa’s phone. Let’s see, Gpa had that phone for years and did not know Pac Man and Frogger were on it. And so it goes…
And so it went… everywhere he went Tony learned People’s names and remembered them. Later, where ever he happened to see them, “I know you! You work at… or I saw you at…” and the conversation would go off in a multitude of directions… eventually.
One Saturday morning in January after the “BIG GAME!” (see note) Tony, his Aunt Kristen and Gpa were entering IHOP for breakfast. He bounced through the door still wearing his basket ball uniform as an older couple was exiting. Gpa was holding the door for the older “big kids” when the woman got all excited and said to Gpa, “Isn’t that the Arctic Circle Boy?” At which Gpa replied with certainty, “Yes it is.”
Graduating from kindergarten, if such a thing is possible,the class sang a song “Don’t Talk to Strangers”. Gpa thought at the time it was a scary little piece. But what does he know. Later in the afternoon a couple came walking toward Tony. Tony observed them approaching, he studied them intently, and then just as they were going by him, he called out, “HELLO STRANGERS!” Gpa thinks they are the only strangers he really knows.
——————(c)09-12-2011————————-
Sep 16, 2011
Sep 16, 2011 at 1:52 AM UTC
There Is A Reason ihop Is Open 24 Hours A Day.
It's Like A MmMmMm. Pancakes!
Like A Mouth Watering & The Sound Of Fork Scraping Plate, Kind Of Morning, Isn't It?
Sunny Saturday Morning In April, With NPR Playing Over The Radio, And The Sound Of Bacon Sizzling, Kind Of Morning.
Take It From Me.
Watched A Heavy Hearted Seventeen Year Old Sister, Ask For Breakfast Ar Midnight, And The Hours Spent Talking Away Her Heart Ache With Mom Was Just A Side Effect Of The Full Stomach.
Stumble Into This.
With Bloodshot Eyes, And Ripped Up Jeans, 5am And Hung Over.
The Waitress Will Always Take Care Of You.
It's Like Her Duty, Along Side Taking Orders And Refilling Empty Coke Glasses, She'll Serve You
Blackberry,
Blueberry,
Chocolate Chip,
Strawberry Strung,
Bananas,
And Whip Cream Shaped Like A Smiley Face,
Without Any Questions Asked.
Pancakes Are The Breakfast Of Champions. So You Remember This. Your Fork And Knife Battle Weapon, Ready To Turn This 15 Minute Meal Into A Valiant Reawakening.
And Remember You Are King Today.
Staff And Stone, And No One Can Destroy You.
Eat Up, And Be Strong.
Smile.
I Dare You.
Lick Your Fingers, And Ask For Seconds.
This Is Life, And Asking For Another Helping Has Never Been A Bad Thing.
Bite Your Tongue, Drink Back This Moment. I'd Ask You To Taste It, If Your Mouths Weren't Already Full.
I Know, There Will Be Tequila &Wine; Bottles You'll Try To Drown Yourself In.
But I've Learned Something Sticky Sweet Seems To Heal The Broken Edges Just A Little Better.
Daddy Always Said There Was A Reason The Light On The 'Waffle House' Sign Never Went Out. A Warm Plate & A Smile Is Sometimes All You Need To Make A Place Home.
The Next Time You Get Offered Pancakes, Consider It A Token Of Appreciation.
Always Say Yes.
Even If You're Not Hungry.
Take A Bite. You Won't Regret It.
I Promise.
May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 11:31 AM UTC
woah that guy is so huge
he could flatten me like a pancake.
Hmm now i want pancakes
Thus the tradition of Ihop began.
Me and hawk
In the dead of night
Get in his beat up old ford
And drive
To the nearest
24/7
Ihop
Sure it seems stupid
Hell it is stupid
But to me
It was everything
Because in that car
With a man
Everyone is scared of
With a man
That is so much more to me then a friend
It meant
I
Was
Safe
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 10:52 PM UTC
Where are all the carnival rides
The Ferris wheel with bright lights
The fairy floss and cherry cokes
and the warm sultry nights
The call of the racketeer
encouraging all to take a chance
Where's the monkey you carried
just so we could hold hands
Where are all the park benches
that used to ring the pond
Where are the acres of green grass
where we sat as you sang me our song
and where have all the ducks gone?
Where has gone the soda shop,
the big band dance halls
and the local Ihop?
There stands the apartment block
where our little house once stood
Where have all the children gone
that we once watched from the stoop
Where are the endless games
of hide and seek and peek a boo
Where's the night gone, the fires out
Where is the heartbeat of our intimacy we shared in our bedroom?
Its all there in the asbestos ceiling
and in the plaster that is cracked
it crinkles beneath fingers
of cold cotton bed sheets
sterile of comfort and it lacks
the vibrancy of emotions
from another lifetime
Laying still, awaiting the ground
It drifts like fog in an ageing mind
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 4:29 AM UTC
Okay that's it
I finally quit
I've had my years of fun
I've got exercise
Clear in my sights
Fat will soon be on the run
Had a problem in
Getting in the gym
The doors won't fit my **** double wide
So in disgrace
I plaster my face
On the window to watch the skinny's inside
In my depressed state
I went and ate
Another meal served up for four
One thing I like
About the places I dine
There's always room in and out the door
Then guilt overwhelms
Like a hellhound
As I was in the middle of my desert
It could have come sooner than this
And for that I am blessed
It could have come during my last course
Here I am back in my boat
Without a paddle to row
My only form of exercise
But before it's to late
I toss a little more dirt on my grave
With another order of double fries
With my meal out of the way
I go back to the start of the day
Which seems to be sunnier than ever
I decide to go for a jog
Before all my arteries clog
Maybe though I'll wait for better weather
................................................................
Here we are a new day
This is the earliest I've ever been late
You know what they say about catching the worm
I stop to eat my worm on the way
IHOP double stack pancakes
Will that worm never learn
The only exercise these days
Is a fork in my face
If this were the Olympics I'd win a prize
I wonder if this is considered a sport
The reaching of maple syrup
And wouldn't squeezing the bottle also be exercise
I'll try tomorrow again
To reign myself in
One of these days it's bound to catch
I'll look to the future in life
Instead of behind
Then at least I won't have to look at my fat...
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 8:27 AM UTC
I was thinking about diners and non-fancy things.
Like morning breath and not having to do things.
People with day jobs behind marble desks
Staring at clocks
Looking their best.
And 3am Ihop, and highways
Lying on the floor and sitting up cause you need to laugh.
Drive to the riverside
Plastic bag of burritos
Those little styrofoam cups filled with heaven
and cinnamon.
Mar 1, 2011
Mar 1, 2011 at 12:40 PM UTC
You smell like smoke
and the bonfire left ashes in your hair.
Your rough hand is on my knee.
I hope you never move it.
Your eyes aren't focused
but neither are mine.
Sleeplessness is dragging us down.
My toes are numb from cold
but my heartbeat is fervent from overwork.
Your heart is the same
I can hear it.
Banging against your chest,
even from all the way over here.
The dawn is coming
but shadows still hold your face.
Your lids are half closed
and there are bags under your eyes.
Your the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
A thousand street lamps
run past me,
as I sit in your passenger seat
with my feet on the dashboard,
and hug your letterman jacket
a little bit closer.
The gentle hum of the engine
and subtle vibration of the tires
are all I can hear
before I drift into dreams,
with your hand on my knee.
Jul 1, 2011
Jul 1, 2011 at 7:40 AM UTC
i remember going to sizzler
with my mom and my 2 brothers
and some random guy and lady---
all at the table.
and she'd load up the tray with dinosaur nuggets
and cabbage
and parsely
and split pea soup
and swirly icecream
of which you could fill a bucket and
only get a light scolding from the waitress with her 4 freckles.
i'd eat that stuff,
and there'd be faint music and clinking
and dishes breaking
and children laughing and crying
and burps from old people
and farting
from overzealous husbands
who would proclaim flatulance as being a sign of
gratitude for one's meal in
China
if you've ever heard.
and the carpet would be drenched in animal ****
and the air
thick will fillaments
and greasy dust--
and my eyes would water,
and the memories
would be a haze,
but it was always rather pleasant.
and the best part was the red ballon with the 'S' logo.
and it'd pop usually upon arriving home after you sit on it or something like that---
Then many years later
i went back with a friend
and his dad who happened to be pretty drunk
and we were listening to Lennon's "Wheels Go By''
and the waiter
was younger and better looking and had less disdain--
and i just got chocolate icecream.
but there were no swirls.
the swirles were long gone.
dead even.
dead .
and then i flicked my ciggarette into an immaculate ashtray
and a few ladies
talked about the lunch specials.
and my stomach gurgled
and we went
to ihop instead.
May 31, 2017
May 31, 2017 at 12:30 AM UTC
I don't think you understand how fully you obliterated my world, because if you did, I think you'd come back to me.
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 6:14 PM UTC
She never failed to mesmerize,
The poetry girl
With the rich maple eyes.
Her jungle of hair flourished on her head,
Contained by a green scrunchie
While the bangs on her forehead were spread.
A bite of the nails, a twist of the hair,
A brush of the bangs,
And her voice echoed like a call to prayer.
She goes to IHOP every weekend, knows the menu by heart,
Lives on pancakes and unlimited coffee,
Although she has been known to dabble with egg tarts.
She pulled her knees up to her chest,
Two Crocs, one green, one white,
Her gaze as stalwart as a tree in a forest.
When she spoke, her thoughts came out like trails of smoke,
Littering the room with her personality,
Those scraps of beauty as powerful as a thunderstroke.
She never failed to mesmerize,
The poetry girl
With the rich maple eyes.
Feb 17, 2020
Feb 17, 2020 at 8:56 PM UTC
I'm just a ghost with no home
No belongings besides my comb
Too bad ghosts don't have hair
I'm not even a big scare
I don't know where to haunt
I have no mansion to flaunt
I just float around
My body in the ground
I'm the only ghost in town
I can't even make some one frown
No mouth to eat
I'm just a floating sheet
I can pass through walls
And go through bathroom stalls
But it's all to no use
I should have never tied that noose
Man I miss my friends
And even the lame trends
They used to be sad
Back when I was a small dead lad
But then those feelings passed
And maggots amassed
I wish I could become a fly
Because I had to die
No house
No belongings besides a blouse
If I had mass it'd be made of regret
But I sleep in the rain and can't get wet
I sit in the coffee shop
And some times in IHOP
No need for a job
I can't even use a doorknob
I just strum a ghost guitar
And hope you get hit by a car
So then you could be a ghost
And my loneliness would be toast
And you can add the butter
And make my nonexistent heart flutter
I hate life support
And anything of the sort
Keeps people from dying
While I'm just trying
To get some help
So I don't have to yelp
And best friends means forever
But that's a rope I'd have to sever
Or just let it fray
Because I'd rather you never pass away
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 5:17 AM UTC
when i think of you
i think of seventh grade
we met and you were funny and cool
and i was probably shy and afraid
i think of swimming at memaws pool
you called me amish when you saw my room
that year is when i started to love you
and our friendship began to bloom
i think of letters i think of notes
of watching breaking bad from your bed
and how you were always on my side
no matter what other people said
i think of blueberry toaster strudels
and late night ihop talks
of crazy times at coleman park
while taking random walks
when i think of you i think of home
i think of warmth and i think of joy
yes i'm very blessed that you're my friend
you're an extraordinary boy
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 12:58 PM UTC
Cold IHOP,
Wednesday morning,
Smoking section,
Kind of boring,
Can't work well,
While I have you,
Drawing me,
Across the booth,
It isn't really me,
But it's how I feel,
Mentally trapped,
The straight-jacket's real,
My mind is racing,
The Coffee has kicked in,
My heart is pounding,
My emotion's tricked again,
You're holding my heart,
In every one of your drawings,
I'm trying to show you my thoughts,
With each one of my writings,
My words get confusing,
I've known this for awhile now,
But that doesn't make it any less true,
I want no one except you.
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 2:20 AM UTC
Like clockwork we would sit at the same table at 4am
Her, fresh of work. Me? Mind on 10
Crazy cause she was my best friend
&
Within a short year that came to an end
Allowing others around was more my thing than hers
My heart just held love more openly than hers would ever admit
I always find myself back at that IHOP table
Remembering every detailed conversation, every argument, every tear, every realization
I know it was real
I felt it
The world is selfish
& I learned the hard way that
good things don't last forever
Feb 3, 2018
Feb 3, 2018 at 9:39 PM UTC
She lost that light,
the only thing that shone
in Philipsburg, Montana. She’s been away
for fifteen years, still remembers them
begging her to stay, but she left
to make herself into something
great. Now, she isn’t
the star of any place, still waiting
tables until lunch is over.
Or maybe,
she never starved for anything
larger than a lifetime of wondering
about TV shows and of hoping
for a gentle moment–she waits
because she’s never thought
of anything more.
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 1:05 PM UTC
She dates a guy whos better looking than I am so what can I really do anyway? She is a girl that if I was with her I would be infatuated with but would always think that she was settling and I would always be reaching for her to think that I was something special like she was. But those are just wishes and dreams I've had and Ive always got this feeling that this guy was honestly a **** boy. But like who am I? An arrogant ***** to think that I'm perfect for her, she's too big (vast, unfathomable, and unreachable) for me to be perfect and my words are small and quiet and there's not much courage behind them because there's a place that self confidence goes when you really think about your chances with someone who fits the description of a dream perfectly. It's like you think of yourself as a ghost and a figament of your own imagination to sit next to her at ihop. And she reads poetry about this guy that you think is a **** boy and her poems read "he is a **** boy" but I don't think she reads them really. She wrote them but can't read what they're saying. If only ghosts could read and could say hi this is what you wrote lol just saying. And hi my name isn't **** boy I hope that is okay because I know all the ones before me were named **** boy. But I am a ghost and she is infinite.
And she's gone, and at night, lights shine and spread hope and joy into the air and it floats into the window of her room.
But my night floats thoughts through the air and there's not light and there's no hope because she has skyscrapers and busy streets and art in everything she sees.
And I have my bed and my small school and my notes in my phone for art.
She is an olive and I'm not even food.
I'm something like a shoe or something else random.
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 2:58 AM UTC
Monday,
starting the week with a kiss good morning and the scent of breakfast blend in the air.
No time for eggs, we'll settle for Eggos and Poptarts.
A hurried goodbye and meaningful promises to return soon.
Tuesday,
waking up late,
****
going in in a rush, no time for a shower,
quick kiss and we're out the door.
Wednesday,
traffic is crazy, no break today.
In a hurry to get back home.
Thursday,
leftovers again, really wanting to spend all day together,
only cuddling close at night.
Friday,
longer with the promise of an enjoyable presence tonight.
A romantic comedy, maybe,
some homemade spaghetti and a glass of wine,
relaxing into each other's curves late into the evening.
Saturday,
No time to rest, so many plans been made,
maybe dropping by IHOP and laughing at the complicated orders.
Hanging with family or friends, visiting the city,
coming home and getting warm, playing games and feeding the cats.
Gentle teasing making the night right.
Sunday,
Brushing the hair out of your face and laughing because we woke up at noon.
Making a big breakfast because we'll feed ourselves and our friends, assuming we ever leave the house.
Spending most of the day lazing around and watching cheesy horror movies, yelling at the protagonists for being stupid, making a big dinner to last us the week
and accidentally saying "good morning" instead of "goodnight" because it's past our bedtime and we're closer to the weekend.
A life of love,
because we have each other.
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 12:19 PM UTC
I should have left you so much sooner.
I should have walked away on Valentine's Day
when you wouldn't stop talking about her.
I should have let go of your hand,
I should have dropped that stupid bear at your feet
and thrown those flowers in the road.
I should have told you not to touch me if you tried to pull me back.
I should have walked to IHOP in the cold,
I should have gotten a table in my brother's section
and told him he was right,
you were an *******
I should have bought heart shaped chocolates and eaten them alone in my room
and listened to Adele on repeat.
I should have rejected your calls,
I should have deleted your number from my phone
(even though I had it memorized).
I should have broken your heart,
because you sure as hell broke mine.
God **** it,
I should have left you so much sooner.
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 10:10 PM UTC
On the top of Anastasia
I took the old seasonal wagon to pull the load
A snake, a bird, and one toad
The toad whispered Hello
The bird flew its path
The snakes head cut in half
For the bird to prey down upon
And ate both the toad and the snake.
Breakfast at ihop and a snakes head upon Birdie's plate
Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 8:22 AM UTC
I feel like Patsy Cline,
walking alone at midnight searching for her love.
Replaying the soundtrack of us over and over in my head.
Having too much fun taking showers together,
laughing our heads off on the couch.
Going for a drive and ending up in our spot overlooking the highway.
Early morning and late night trips to Tim Hortons, Waffle House and IHOP.
Listening to The Beatles, Daft Punk and Alt-J.
I wish I could remember the sound of your voice when you called me beautiful.
I wish I remembered what it felt like to be in your arms.
I wish I remembered your laugh.
However I do remember how proud, how elated, I was to be standing next to you.
You are sunlight and everything good in the world and everyone knew it.
I wish I knew if you missed me.
Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 4:25 AM UTC