"tastier" poems
Welcome Back To This, Your Isle
The rabbits beneath the deck,
Even the pesky deer who eat the shrubbery,
Sea creatures, living and spirits of the dead,
Lying on the paths and in the creeks of Silver Beach,
All inquire:
Was it better wherever you went?
Were the:
Bears, hiding in the forests outside Berlin,
Eagles, double headed, of Russia
Herring, fried, creamed, wined,
From the vendors on the docks of
Helsinki, Riga, Visby and Tallinn,
Salmon, smoked and cured in Stockholm,
More impressive,
Tastier than our striped bass,
Island cohorts of yours, who waited patiently
For their chronicler to return?
Did the Little Mermaid and her Dolphin
Guardians of the Port of Copenhagen
Welcome you more warmly than your friends,
The ospreys, lizards, turtles and owls
Who overwatch your steps and safety
When hiking in Mashomack Preserve?
Are the interlacing tidal creeks,
Woodlands, fields, salt marshes and the ragged,
Irregular but charmed coastline of this cherished island
Any lesser than those of Scandinavia?
Are the sea-going ferries that transverse the
Baltic Sea and the Gulf of Finland,
More poetic than the Menantic or the Lt. Joe,
Who carry you swiftly home to us?
The National Geographic people say that in
Tivoli Gardens, The Amerikaner (ha!) waffle ice cream cone
Is one of the ten best in the world.
Guessing they have not made it yet to the
Tuck Shop for some Moose Tracks!
Were you unaware that our isle settled before
Peter the Great ever envisioned creating the grand
Boulevards of his capitol, St. Petersburg,
Route 114 was a traveled forest path,
By settlers and Indians, not serfs.
Of the Treasures, the Gold Room of the Hermitage,
The Amber Room of Catherine's Palace,
Wrote not a single word, we observe.
Your attentions, they did not deserve?
The answers all, self evident.
Here, surrounded by the gentle breezes of
Long Island Sound and Gardiners Bay,
Sweet and salty flavors of the Peconic atmosphere,
Words unlocked, from your eyes to the page fall,
Smudged by joyous tears, for the muses of the island
Have embraced you yet again and rebirthed
Inspiration, within their comforting, sheltering grasp.
Silver Beach
July 22, 2012
Aug 3, 2013
Aug 3, 2013 at 4:50 PM UTC
I want to split you in two,
tickle your cherry stem
& sprinkle you with sugar drops.
I've thought about marshmallow,
some vanilla cream
on top of your lemon tarts
& rolling my tongue
to spread it.
Honey dripped onto your flower
would be tastier than flaked-baklava,
a little whipped cream
& nuts would certainly
finish you off.
But I do dream of stuffing your pastry
with my creme-filled cannoli.
That would be the ultimate dessert,
don't you think sweet lady?
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 5:53 PM UTC
My **** freezer is getting old
her heart is no longer cold
Placed it next to my magic oven
Hopes she'll get some motivation...
My **** freezer was once very gorgeous
Stood tall in the kitchen, It really looked fabulous
made food and drinks tastier and delicious
This freezer so cool, prettier than Miss Universe
Put some fridge magnets on its door
That doesn't make her looks pretty anymore
But judge a beauty not from the outer layer
True Beauty comes from your heart underneath
despite your age young or old...
Your beauty shines.... shines from within
Now I am having a dilemma..
my hot and **** freezer as old as my grandma
She is not so hot anymore
She is not so cold either...
but she remains to stay in here
Until the day to decide I should no longer need her....
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 10:59 PM UTC
A piece of the pie
Is what all seek to obtain,
Instead of the bar.
Bar for average,
But if in dark chocolate, is
Tastier than Pi.
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 8:29 AM UTC
numbers and cost crunching figures
she stood quietly calculating shelf spaces
calorie content
fat overdrive, taste sensation
and slowly but surely automatic fingers
ticked off the cents and savings
and chocolate biscuit treats.
pushing her trolley to checkout
she knew well
where indulgence took over sacrifice
where synthetic fizz was tastier
than real fruit syrup
and how supermarket shelves
connived with the devil.
home again
she balanced the books well
served plentiful dinners
kept the *** boiling
kicked *** out of roast lamb leftovers
yet chalked up a secret piggy bank
empire in a biscuit tin under the couch.
Author Notes
ordinary people? think again.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 months ago
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 6:58 PM UTC
( 2P or not 2P)
Poets and Pigeons,
two P's in a pod.
Some are very humble
Others think they are god.
Throw them a few crumbs
and they will peck at your feet.
They're a most grateful lot
That you will ever meet.
If the morsel is really great
They will eat out of your hand.
Wanting MORE MORE MORE
Pecking MORE than they can stand.
They jockey for position
on the feeding chart each day.
Numbers, NUMbers, NUMBERS
Is there any other way?
Some pigeons stand afar
not risking getting close.
Others land on your head
In hopes they get the most.
There are those who flutter by
and leave deposits in your hair.
"There are better morsels just ahead"
As they develop a pigeon stare.
They envision better food ahead,
like cows at the wires.
It's always tastier over there
Turns out more like briers.
And so it goes in pigeon world
Juking along making their mark
(or is that leaving their mark)
Showing others where to find
Crumbs in the vast poet (pigeon)park.
So there you have the 2P order
Oh! I think this could be me.
Or not.
Nov 14, 2010
Nov 14, 2010 at 1:22 PM UTC
I follow your eyes,
As a traveler follows his compass;
Cruising through the tides
Searching for the enormous.
He began the journey,
Thanks to his wanderlust,
Mine, chanced on being scorny…
I count on being the last!
Twists and turns adorned the track,
I scolded them
As my thoughts went scavenging a snack
Right on the hem.
She boasted her 120kmphs,
I could only smile.
Didn’t she see me at all?
Where I was all this while!
They sprang from both sides,
Adoring her fair
How could she even see through,
The symmetry worth a care!
You caught the wind,
As a kite fluttering, does
Eyes closed, lashes twined,
You smile contagious!
Careless you were,
As I asked for the plan,
Grooving in slow motion,
Ignoring even a sun-tan…
Now I wonder if
The windows are open,
My thoughts are shy, they can’t shout
Wanting to collide with yours out!
You went out,
Telling me to imagine,
Since, my pen’s been my spoon…
Even as I went on to dine.
Someday I will drive,
Or just stare at you, driving,
Unless you have your lovelocks
For your face-hiding!
And sing to each other,
Some songs as rhymes,
Check out on the trees afar
If even a single bird thrives.
Eat terrible food,
Feeling them to be tastier,
Laugh quite like insanes,
Hoping to feel hungrier.
Unending roads with us meeting,
Breaking into a jig
Again and again, as
Mirth and joy go on knitting.
Light or dark,
I really don’t care,
Go out with whosoever,
But won’t you stay true to me, dear?
I attempt to quiet my mind,
Caring not to look behind,
I promise, imaginations won’t be a hype
For, you are the roadtrip of my life…
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 5:24 AM UTC
The TV people scare me sometimes.
They are always saying bad things.
They do so with an air of confidence and reassurance.
They fill your head with narcotic gossip and
Everyone salivates over the tasty words.
The addicted watch with anticipation.
Eating up every juicy bit.
The worse the news, the tastier.
The media is an all-you-can-eat buffet
For the cynical lovers of catch 22’s and Murphy’s law
They gag on the good news
Altruism, the Golden Rule, honest to goodness people
That doesn’t taste so good
It doesn’t give us our fix
You need the bad to have the good
And we only like the good to emphasize the bad
The audacity of the TV people; how dare they tell good news
Good news doesn’t sell
Bad news is good news
Jan 3, 2010
Jan 3, 2010 at 8:30 PM UTC
Sacred Love
Williamsji
In a single missing heartbeat, you appeared...
My life remained a question to be answered,
The meaning of fulfillment was not defined,
An emptiness of mind’s oneness, declined
Longing for years to get my love acceptance
With a simple joy of sharing, in reminiscence
and to close the endless nights of loneliness
To live on earth, in grief and togetherness
Your sacred love is tastier than grape wine
The ode of your sweat seems to be divine.
My body, mind, spirit, all begins to race
Rays of moonlight roll down on my face.
williamsji
www.williamsji.com
[email protected]
Jul 9, 2012
Jul 9, 2012 at 9:46 PM UTC
He turned around to look at her--face to face.
"Excuse me?" he asked. He has heard what she said, but the question was only to confirm that his brain had processed that which his ears had just heard.
"You know what I said." she shot back quickly.
"Nono--tell me again what you..just..said," his voice got lower and his steps quickened with each word. Now they were nose to nose, eye to eye, face to face. She swallowed deeply and confidently said,
"Go. **** Yourself."
His right hand quickly recoiled back to back-hand-slap her across her beautiful face, but he was quickly foiled by a knee to his groin.
"Aaawwwooohhfuck!" he howled.
He fell to his knees in agony. The kind of agony where it feels like your stomach is doing somersaults and pirouettes. This gave her the perfect opportunity to finish what she had started. She raised her right hand to strike him. As her hand got higher, her brow became more furrowed. Her hand became a balled-up fist, then quickly struck down on his left temple. His eyes rolled back in his head as his body became limp and collapsed fully to the dirt. She seized the opportunity to kick him violently in his face and upper body with no resistance from him. By the time she had finished her onslaught of kicks, his face looked mangled and bruised. He was bleeding from every orifice on his face.
She knew what she had done, and she knew the authorities would be there soon. She surveyed the fields. The wheat was swaying calmly in the wind, and the smell of juniper was being carried from the evergreen forest just south of Old Man Morrison's property.
She looked down at him, almost exactly the same way that she had seen him look at her so many times before.
With a scowl, she hocked up a disgustingly large *** of spit and shot it directly on to his bloodied face.
As the sounds of sirens came audible in the distance, she turned to walk the opposite way from where he laid.
"I said...Burger King is way tastier than ******* McDonalds."
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 2:10 PM UTC
Mikenzie has a long toe.
That doesn't make her a ***
The toe is much longer than the rest.
She sees it as a pest.
But I think its pretty cute.
She hides it with a boot.
Last night she let me lick it.
It was tastier than a banana split.
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 12:05 PM UTC
The walls drip yellow.
My teacup is ridden
with thoughts driven
from buzzing and Queens.
They claim glory.
A skyscraper tastier
than dew from street sewer
with gray, AM haze
as people jut sides
to climb, slip snidely
atop, cut voices in lies,
rushed by without flicker,
a thought for
ever-blackened drop
of dark roasted, cig-toasted
coffee drowned by a cup.
So, taste it now,
your lips of grounds
in café chair
on dirtied walk
is unaware
of rays in sky
and earth below
and earth below
the pounding thump
that make World go.
Grabbed honey-stuck tips
from a table of glass
and sweet, sutured lips
from ignorance.
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 8:14 AM UTC
By daylight,
they sold
burgers & chips,
the atmosphere
a bit chill,
touristy.
But at night,
things heated up.
The dance floor rocked,
the tiny rooms rolled.
They sold something
tastier than
meat and potatoes.
Many a ******
lost their pesos
to such festivities.
Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 7:14 AM UTC
1
‘My, my,’
said the wolf one day
seeing its long shadow on the ground.
‘How big I am, how powerful I am.
Why, I’ve grown bigger
than any lion or bear.’
And with that
the wolf walked about
with a lot of pride
and arrogance
2
Soon the Wolf met a lion
in the shades below the trees
and the Wolf sauntered very leisurely by
‘My, my,’
said the Lion to the Wolf.
‘You’re looking very calm and confident.’
‘Oh, yes,’ said the Wolf.
‘The reason is clear to see:
since the last time you saw me
I’ve grown bigger and stronger
than the bear, the elephant and even you!’
3
‘Oh, yes,’ said the Lion,
‘indeed you have grown bigger and meatier
and possibly tastier than any!’
And with that the Lion pounced
on the self-confident wolf
and made a meal of its ****
and the wolf was cut down to size
in the mighty Lion’s tummy
Oct 4, 2010
Oct 4, 2010 at 10:24 AM UTC
There's a goat on my roof.
I have no idea why.
I'm not raising goats.
I won't even try.
I can see how he got up there;
Scaled my shed like a hill.
I hooted trying to scare him off
But he is up there crying still.
There’s a goat on my roof.
And he seems to want something
He’s very noisy about himself
And he smells disgusting.
I’ve tried dragging him down
But he gets back up again.
It’s enough to make a cusser
Of any normal patient men.
The goat that’s on my roof
Is material for a comedian.
He’s so **** annoying
He might be a Republican.
He makes a lot of noise
And insists on getting his way.
He’s good for practically nothing
And has little of import to say.
The goat that’s on my roof
Seems to serve his own needs.
I don’t understand goat enough
To know about his greed.
Does he need tastier food
Or maybe a **** girlfriend?
I really want this episode
To come to a speedy end.
Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 1:38 AM UTC
As extended branches test my hunger
I grip the fruit you have become
Ripened as the winds go streaming
Slashing through my tussled hair
Yon branches quickly to defend
Though fight I must if I shall have you
This fruit is tempting, young and pure
Through its flesh my teeth they probe
Delicious as the love of life does grow each spring
Dripping down my chin, the juices
Of every one that has disallowed
Sweeter when the bowl is full, unable to take in much more
I beg, I reach, I grasp, I claw
Your vibrant eyes they look away
These roots are strong, holding tight to every probe
Tighter still I feel the warmth
It covers me in splendor spent
I lie beneath your locks so soft and beautiful as is the dawn
Touch me deep inside my soul
This claim is but a fabled speech
My love to linger till the approaching sun
The fruits of passion fill the senses
Tastier than is the thigh
Forming in the minders fashion
This is why my beating heart cries
Tears of joy as are your lips
Countless times my dreams have fallen well inside
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 6:25 PM UTC
caress me with your words
they are honey
that drips over
all of my existence
coating me
turning me into something
more sweet
I am tastier
when dipped
in your sugar
savor me
devour me
but often
you enjoy me
raw
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 12:10 AM UTC
There's Nothing
More Tastier
Than A
Glass of
Cool Water
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 8:43 AM UTC
Ups
Down
Tripping
Falling
But you made the dirt
Tastier when I ate it
Making it easier
To dust myself off
You'd offer bandaids
A helping hand
Yet I'm as hard headed
Almost as stubborn
As you are
You taught me
That life isn't about taking it
It's about conquering
Everything that wants to bury you
The Long Road
Isnt living cautiously
It's learning from mistakes
From the risk you take
Being prepared for possibilities
Accepting of consequences
Everything you did
Was for my betterment
That I fought you over
Thinking I mastered
Those pieces of advice
If not for you
I know several places
I'd be stuck in
Without hopes of a future
You held my hand
To make it this far
Now hold onto your faith
And walk with my heart
As I make you proud
With every step I take
Down this long road
We endure called life
With your teachings
I'll obliterate remaining obstacles
I love you mom
Happy mother's day
The only present I have
That's worth anything
That I can offer
Is the smile I bestow
Everytime you witness
Me implementing
Those invaluable lessons
You diligently worked on
Instilling them into me
Thank you
May 9, 2021
May 9, 2021 at 12:36 PM UTC
*
Within a single missing heartbeat of love, you appeared;
My own life remained a question to be well answered;
A meaning of emotionally passionate was not declined;
Your deliciousness of mind’s oneness glowing defined;
Longing for years and years to get my love acceptance;
With a trouble-free joy of giving away, in reminiscence;
And to wind -up the endless nightmares of loneliness;
To live; survive on earth, in grief; joy and togetherness;
Your sanctified love is much tastier than red grape wine;
The verse of your sweet love songs seems to be divine;
My body; mind, inspirations; all begins to take a race;
Rays of dusk moonlight, rolls down on your elegant face.
*
BY
WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
[email protected]
www.williamsji.com
www.williamsji.com
www.williamsmaveli.com
www.williamsgeorge.com
May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 5:25 AM UTC
are you even tastier
than coffee
that i crave for you
even on nights
that i'm widely
awake?
Nov 25, 2021
Nov 25, 2021 at 7:59 PM UTC
Sleep is good
Cuz it's like food
But food's better
Since its tastier
And yes this is really stupid
Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 9:03 PM UTC
Knife crunching through
skin? No, it slips down
like a gulp in the throat,
a breath before pushing
in. My moon-eyes stare
at the shock of the victim's
as their belly is hollowed,
blood swilling in the sink
as fingers reach in the cut
to polish the insides clean.
I wonder why that look of
panic? There is a pink lining
stitched in by spinal threads,
the tenderness under a coat
proving you were only dressed
in a glazed metallic shimmer
to impress the eye. The head
must go, and the dressage off
so I can go soak your flesh
in a much tastier puddle.
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 11:32 PM UTC
as a child
i wanted
everything
the best toys
the coolest clothing
another pet
tastier food
more play time
less school time
no chores
more allowance
my own room
brighter sunshine
the stars at my fingertips
more more more
RIGHT NOW!
now
i need
only
love
and i want
only
health
and
happiness
but the things
i need
and desire
are like grains
of sand slipping
through my
fingers
Jun 24, 2012
Jun 24, 2012 at 11:57 PM UTC
COOKING IS VERY SIMILAR TO LOVING. FIRST COMES THE RIGHT INGREDIENTS GATHERING AND AT TIMES IT IS A HUNT TO FIND THE MARRYING SPICES MOST LIKELY FOUND IN UNLIKELY PLACES.
THEN COMES THE PREPARATION THAT ALSO DEPENDS ON OUR PHYSICAL AND EMOTIONAL DISPOSITION.
THE SECRET OF A GOOD MEAL LIES IN THE RIGHT COMBINATION AND A CARING AND FULL CONCENTRATION.
THE SLOWER AND LONGER THE COOKING DURATION THE TASTIER THE DISH WORTHY OF AN OVATION.AND WHEN SERVED TO YOUR GUESTS THE MEAL WILL NOT ONLY BE EATEN BUT SAVORED AND ENJOYED TO THE FULLEST.
PRAISES WILL BE GIVEN AS WELL AS EXCLAMATIONS OF PLEASURES AND THE COOK WILL FEEL HAPPY WITHOUT MEASURE.
A GOOD CHEF GIVES A PART OF HIMSELF IN THIS ART WITH HIS DEDICATION, LOVE AND DESIRE TO PLEASE AND DELIGHT HIS COMPANIONS.
WITHOUT FORGETTING THE MEANINGFUL “BREAKING OF BREAD” TRADITION AND BLESSING OF FOOD FOR GOOD NUTRITION.
Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 6:16 AM UTC