"toppings" poems
Life is like a pizza. You crave for a larger one, thinking that you're hungry enough to finish everything yourself. That's like yourself 10 years ago, wanting to become an adult. Now that you're halfway there, all you want to do is go back to being a kid. Sometimes the pizza is too hot, and you've got to wait for it to settle down before shoving it down your throat. The same way, life gets a little rough sometimes, so you sit and wait impatiently, till it gets better. Sometimes, the pizza's too cold. So you heat it up a little. The same way, life gets a little boring sometimes. So you get yourself involved in **** that doesn't necessarily need your attention, under the name of "you only live once". Some pizza toppings are pushed away, because you don't like how it tastes. The same way, you neglect people just because you don't like them. On the other hand, you can't get enough of some pizza toppings. They're too good to stop eating. Those are like family and best friends, you just can't stay away. Although sometimes too much of the same topping makes you want to throw up, you order it the next time anyway, just because you like it. All said and done, at the end of the day, you finish the pizza. That's like death. You really wish there was more pizza, but there's just no more. Sometimes, there's too much, you throw it away. That symbolises suicide. When there's too much to deal with, and you just end it. The only difference is, you can always order another box of pizza, but you can't order another box of life.
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 8:09 AM UTC
A scarlet confection
Made to tasty perfection
For your mouth’s inspection
The tip of the toppings
The vanilla flavored frosting
Is so tempting to you
The taste bud’s elation
In what you are facing
Is something like devil’s food cake
The tiled floor kitchen
In the hours bewitching
Leaves your pulse a twitching
From the caloric intake
And the hours you shorten
By licking the shortening
They are a mistake
But they are your poisonous pleasure
Made to bake and yours’ to take
It’s a sweet treat we call cake
Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 3:45 AM UTC
3-2-2017 (unknown date of origin)
Something's wrong... you don't belong here.
I said, looking down at the pineapple on my pizza.
I said, looking down at the ketchup on my macaroni.
I said, looking down at the cream of mushroom soup on my meatloaf.
He said, looking down at me and my boyfriend, holding hands in public.
Like I'm a creep. I'm a ******
What the hell am I doing here? I don't belong here.
You see there's these things that we learn at the dinner table.
When we're kids we have certain items served to us on our plates.
Whatever doesn't end up there, isn't a part of the discussion.
After all, they say if you don't have a seat at the table, you are likely to be on the menu.
So, when ****** orientation and gender identity aren't seated at the table of childhood, they get served for the first time in unexpected places.
Like an avante garde celebrity chef's designer meal, prepared for critiques by the food bloggers.
They get served in college classroom debates or in dorm rooms with freshman roommates.
They're on the menu in in some movies but served with a side of stereotypes and silly trope toppings.
They get grinded into glitter dust sprinkled on the annual PRIDE Parades like an overly salty seasoning mix.
They're on the menu in workplace diversity trainings, but too little too late - they get lost in the marginalized buffet.
They get served at the oppression Olympics, or actually at the Olympics unwillingly by a journalist who only pretends to eat a well-balanced diet, but really has LGBT food allergies, if you know what I mean.
In reality, these should be staple dishes consumed by commoners, consumed by you and me, consumed by children along with their healthy daily dose of broccoli and cauliflower, squash and zucchini, even eggplant.
They should be in every ******* cookbook with pictures and all different kinds of recipes!
I want every child to have gay on their dinner plate, lesbian lunch, gender nonconforming on the brunch menu, and bisexual breakfast.
And everything in between in the queer spectrum served during snack breaks.
I want every child to look down at their plate and see pineapple pizza and say, gee that looks great!
I love all of the pizza toppings, no matter whether gay or nay.
... except for anchovies, of course.
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 4:28 AM UTC
I'm so bored
tell me a story
play an online game with me
someone text me
buy me a lamb
make a new tweet
take me shopping
buy me a wii u
I'm so bored
everything's so boring
I have no games on the wii
so I am bored as can be
someone post on instagram
something saying "yeet"
get me pizza with lots of toppings
is anyone else bored, too?
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 2:51 PM UTC
Did you just call me ugly?
How blind could you be?
Don't you know that I got God inside of me?
Tell me dear....
So, full of pride and so focused on your youthful looks.
How much makeup?
How much pride?
How many people?
Will be at your side,
When you close your eyes for the last time.
Tried to be **** at times myself.
Those ideas blew up in my face.
Got a lot of regret debts
anchored down in the valleys of the wrinkles on my face.
Did you know I used to have abs?
Not anymore.
One day I heard my stomach having a private conversation,
with gravity.
Gravity said, 'Winning!'
Took my abs away.
Gave me arthritis and a fever in its place.
I **** so much.
I swear someone has a gun to my ***
It is so ****** up,
when the pistol starts to cry and laugh.
I need a walker most of the time.
I guess the only crime I committed was staying alive.
Yeah, I am old.
So, what! I made it this far.
Take your *** on and be thankful for who you are.
You don't know how good you got it.
You can still get around,
Without leaving fun size Hersey bars behind on the ground.
'Hey, old dude, what Hersey bars are you referring to you? The thing I see behind you are chocolate bars,
With corn toppings.
The old man starts to laugh.
The young lady says, 'Do you mean to tell me that you ******* while you were talking to me this whole time?
The young lady began to puke.
'Baby, I didn't **** on myself. My *** did all the work. I haven't been able to control my bladder for a few months now. Here is a tissue for your mouth though?'
'Did you just hand me your depends?' The young lady said.
'Yep! These Depends never judge me and makes me feel very special.'
The young lady walks away, as she continues to puke.
The old guy says, 'She is so slow. I thought that she would have given me my Depends diaper back.
'Uh oh! What am I going to doo-do in now? That girl stole my Depends!
(C) Copyrighted
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 10:06 PM UTC
I had to go into the big city
well big for me anyway
a beautiful drive still dreaming I think
looks right down on the water that city
at Lake Champlain.
So what did you get?
Oh. You're seriously asking, alright.
Well, it's for a lovely couple this weekend getting married.
Oh I see, do tell Chef ?
I picked some beautiful ingredients
for pumpkin cheesecake
some candies...
I especially love the sunflower seed drops in magenta, violet, lime green, burnt orange, tangerine and dark chocolate,
they look like little fall tears.
I also found some vinted
honeymoon wine
A voigner
with a lovely fragrant crisp taste
Hmmmm...interesting, go on?
It signifies the full moon in June after the flowers turn into young grapes some honeysuckle Aromas followed by luscious mango and nectar
Paired with roasting chicken
& beautifully seasonal fingerling potatoes
and this amazing rustic sweet potato bread
gorgeous heirloom vegetables in a few various choices
delicately cooking squash
all seasoned to perfection bringing
nutty joy to all
in an aromatic feathery plume of goodness
finally...
green goddess dressing and roasted nuts, berries among other toppings for a brilliant salad.
Oh...well any invitations still open?
I'm not sure, but you can be my guest in the kitchen come along
take your hat off what's the hurry?
Cherie Nolan© 2016
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 10:57 AM UTC
Pizza is my life
I started out as dough with doughy eyes
Mother picks me up
Mother molds me
After no time at all I'm sent down the line
Toppings...
Things other people want but I get
By the end the toppings are as important as the dough
Sometimes I wonder if there was any dough to begin with
Because the foundation is changed so much by the fires of the oven
The chaos makes me steam, bubble, and boil
Once I simmer down I'm recognizable as what I should be but not what I once was
Now that I'm developed it's time to be delivered into the world
And find my own home
But what will I find when I get there?
Will it be love?
Or will I be ate up and shat out?
Or is there a difference?
May 22, 2017
May 22, 2017 at 1:28 PM UTC
- Ode to food .
Barbecue Ribs ;
I Swear If Youu Were a person youu'd Have a Crown .
You'd Be The Queen of your town .
Youu make Other Foods Envy Youu Because of your delicious Barbeque Sauce And Your Juicy Meat .
Youu got fans because Your who their mouth wants to meet .
Ice cream ;
Your cold ,
But you never get old .
Everyone Loves Youu ,Your Like Your Heaven sent .
Everyone Loves you Exept For the lactose - intolerant .
You come in different flavors ,
Your served in different Dishes ,
You have different Toppings ,
The one thing people Is Scared To do to youu is dropping .
Youu melt down people's Throat ,
Filling them with joy .
Youu make babys Wanna leave their favorite toy .
Chips ;
Crunchy ,
Munchy .
Who Dosnt Eat Youu ?
Like , I mean everyone Likes you new .
Your so fly .
Not literaly Fly .
Thats Apparently a lie ,
Its Obvious you cant fly .
Your different .
Youu Come differently ..
Your so good they clone youu Continuesly .
Chicken ;
Youu had to die
To Satisfy .
Youu do Good to my stomach ,
Make Me Feel good .
Your so good .
Youu Can even be barbequed ,
Your so good i wanna play a harp for youu .
You Can Be Boiled Too .
But I Dont Like you like that , Eww .
Candy ;
Your so dandy .
You Come In Different Varieties .
Skittles , M&MS; Even Jelly beans .
Who dont love youu , i mean Youu That Babie .
Everyone love youu Exept People with Diabetes .
This Is My Ode Too Food .
Food That Taste M-m-m Good .
Jul 3, 2012
Jul 3, 2012 at 1:50 AM UTC
I don't want to talk about the weather
I don't want to talk about how humid it was today, or how it rained some time last week
I want to talk about if you think the aliens are real
I want to talk about which type of flower reminds you of your mother
And I want to talk about what song from the last five years reminds you of summer
I want to talk about the pets you had growing up and their names and the marks on their coats
I want to talk about the first time you fell in love and what her smile looked like
Did she have crooked teeth?
Were her lips painted red the day you noticed you loved her?
I want to talk about what kind of toppings you like on your pizza
And I want to talk about how you like your coffee in the morning
Do you prefer more sugar, more cream?
Black coffee, or no coffee at all?
I want to talk about your stance on immigration laws or abortion or gun control
I want to talk about where you have most felt at home
Was it the basement at your mother's place, where you first got laid?
Or maybe it is the baseball field where you scored your first home run?
I want to talk about who you are when no one is looking, because that's when it counts the most
Do you always spare a dollar for the homeless man under the bridge at the intersection by work?
Do you hold the door open for old ladies with six bags in their arms and a coat full of cat hair?
I want to talk about everything and anything except the weather
Nov 12, 2017
Nov 12, 2017 at 1:28 PM UTC
I can't quite wrap it around my head
**** polishing hobgoblin
Gobbling hot fudge banana split sundaes
topped with ***** cherry toppings
What I'm looking for
Just on the tip of my tongue
Just the tip
I can almost put my finger in it
*On it
Oops!
A slip of the lips
Verbally retching
Wretched word *****
Armed with an armada of double entendres
Sensationally double penetrating your ear canals!
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 7:57 PM UTC
What do I have at my disposal?
A knack for always wanting to write
My intuitive messages down.
But it’s got no substance,
It’s got no meat.
I’m all bread and cheese and
Condiment without any meat.
It’s fitting for a vegan, I suppose,
But not for a poet.
The poet has to lead breadcrumbs
For the reader in order to get to the meat
Of the poem, the substance, the protein.
Where is it?
I’m lacking substance where I have all these
Nice little toppings and sauces and vegetables,
I have a dipping sauce for this sandwich,
But no meat!
I have to go to the store,
I have to keep honing my skill.
I have to develop a hunger for meat.
Jun 25, 2020
Jun 25, 2020 at 6:53 PM UTC
Forget the onion and all its layers
thats obvious
You are undeserving for such a cliché
So I invite a different perspective
Think of a base, flour and egg kneaded together like I need you,
so dense in identical morals
Folded with mirrored ideology of future fortuity
Dipped sensually with a sauce so thick,
Thicker than blood or water,
Blended as one to create a sea of red as deep as our hearts pumping vitality
Sprinkled softly with the most palatable, mouth watering mozzarella
Each placing full of utter affection,
Long lost stares while you sit innocent to me feasting my eyes upon your moreish persona.
The only quandry we must face is whose decision that day of toppings to showcase
Who gets the chance to tease additional flavours, delicious tasters
To open eyes to attributes unseen before,
Hopes set high to electrify taste buds
Wanting the other to crave more
Ingredients brought together for a flavoursome pizza
You are my hawaiian
As i,
Your meatfeast.
Opposing trimmings
Eachothers 1st choice
One anothers perfection to quench their dying hunger
Mar 2, 2019
Mar 2, 2019 at 12:05 PM UTC
******* and bra's mindlessly slung over chairs
while the serenade of squeaky bed frames
is aided by the collaboration of lustful moans
Chocolate sauce drizzled over naked flesh
the toppings of whip cream and strawberries
are also included.....
The exchanging of saliva....
passionate kisses conclude the motion
of passionate ******
May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 8:42 PM UTC
Dominoes On Pizza
Look at you,
You look so delicious.
No one can hear you,
You are godless.
Oh little pizza,
You look so tasty,
All I want to do is put you in my mouth!
The taste and feeling,
Takes me to my higher self!
I like to play dominoes on pizza,
Adds another dimension of flavor!
A nice thick base!
With tomato paste!
Clothed in cheese!
Sporting meaty toppings!
I like the taste when it’s fresh outta the oven!
Not when it is reheated the very next morning!
Oh my sweet little pizza!
You bring a rainbow of flavor!
I lift you gently up to my face,
A quivering lip reveals my excitement.
You look like a great appetizer!
You shall sedate my endless hunger!
At least till the next one.
Slice them!
Dice them!
Eat them!
Digest them!
I love the taste of a screaming pizza,
It brings in a very interesting flavor.
Jun 16, 2019
Jun 16, 2019 at 6:33 PM UTC
Coming home from the mass,
body stretches became endless
no hurried showers were done
some returned to bed, everything
was on a slow pace....but then,
kitchen aromas roused sluggish senses,
revealed garlic and onion sauteing,
beef stewing, stuffed fish grilling,
even the smell of parched soil, being
sprinkled with water...became fragrant...
all rushed to the table...for lunch...
..............................................
dessert, was a choice...nothing...or,
slices of pie..fresh strawberries dipped
in condensed milk...peanuts, sour
chips, or salty tortillas, with salsa,
all these, over loud talks...whispers,
wholesome family conversations,
where endings are ever unpredictable
...............................................
each Sunday carries a different mood
...with cups of tea, or coffee, when
discussions are serious, long, hushed...
most times, they're a tall glass of sundae,
with shaved ice, sago, sweetened yam,
or, beans, milk, and sugar........
decisions made, and agreed upon
are the multi colored toppings,
pretty much like syrup.....or ice cream...
...................................................
seven days.....with different names...
each family member brings in a new shade
we do our best, to start, and end each day
................with pleasant airs
.................especially on Sundays,
......when families gather together...
..................................................
Sally
Copyright March 26, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 9:02 PM UTC
everyone agrees that you're
tasteless and flavourless
when it comes to
choosing the ingredients
to make the dough for love.
similar to a slice of
cold, leftover pizza,
hated like pineapples
as the toppings,
slapped on like a can of
expired tomato sauce,
cut away like
unwanted crustings,
and being as cheap as
a low-quality mozzarella.
definitely
loved by me
but purely hated
by the entire world.
Dec 9, 2017
Dec 9, 2017 at 2:24 PM UTC
Rumpled feathers wrinkled in time
switchfeet running on a half battery
a horrible situation if you aren't accustomed
but to the rest
an average day-
breakfast lunch and dinner
nutrients, calories, sustenance
cherry bombs make lovely sundae toppings
then all goes nuts-
kaboom, kaplow
may all the tall ones wear pin striped suits
and carry pinwheels
and pin buttons of political preference to breast pockets
out pops golden sunshine
rays of gamma and joy
proletariat eternity
cannot decide
between juvenile altercations
or the same ole same ole way of ********
Aug 7, 2012
Aug 7, 2012 at 11:48 PM UTC
A small, blonde haired child peers into a mirror
his reflection shows a short beard--
dark brown hair with streaks of gray.
He just finished eating ice cream
in a room where his Aunt suffered
until death.
The toppings were sprinkles
and the lies his parents told him about the day she died.
In the reflection,
the little child noticed a picture of a woman
he’s never met.
But throbbing, sleepless headaches
And $5 red wine breath from the reflection
say otherwise.
He draws cuts on his wrists to remember her in the future.
His superhero and wrestling action figures
are strewn about in ****** positions
he doesn’t know about. Yet.
When the power goes out--
TV stays on.
The little boy watches silver orbs drill into someone’s head
while hugging his power rangers blanket.
In his head
he recites David Lynch’s Alphabet.
The scent of hotcakes lingers in the air.
Before dissipating,
Uncle mumbles
about the deaths of the child's siblings
that haven't happened.
Little child was given money
by grandparents,
For church,
but it smells like ****
In the background,
the reflection has portraits of Ginsberg and William Godwin.
Aug 9, 2011
Aug 9, 2011 at 10:43 PM UTC
Oh the delicious cheese!
Its soo tasty!
so.....
different
so..
extraordinary
Its comes with toppings!
to help you eat more
so you can be satisfied
and hopefully not hungry anymore
they bring it to you
on time
so you can enjoy the deliciousness
of this modern marvel.
Enjoy
and eat more.
Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 12:02 PM UTC
I like to play dominoes on pizza!
It brings in such an interesting flavor!
Only when it is fresh out of the oven,
Not when it is reheated the very next morning!
A nice thick base!
With tomato paste!
Clothed in cheese!
Sporting meaty toppings!
I pilot this Italian plane with a cargo of
screaming cheeses.
Heading down the corridors into the chamber between two orifices!
Oh little pizza,
Where we are going,
No one can hear you.
My mouth is foaming,
I just want to taste you.
My palms are sweating,
My lips are quivering,
I need to put you in my mouth.
Got me feeling like my higher self!
The pizza’s sad.
The hotdog’s sad.
The pasta’s sad.
The ice cream’s sad.
The map is sad.
The sauce is sad.
The walnut’s sad.
All of these little things are sad!
Taking this pizza,
To the kitchen island,
With a black and white handkerchief.
I gently hold it in my hand,
And lift it up to my trembling face.
Mouth outpouring for a smooth landing.
It’s going to a very dark place.
You look so tasty,
Take a step into my sliding meat elevator.
I close the doors,
And I am met with another dimension of flavor.
We are going down,
Take this ride with me,
We are heading to flavor town.
Aug 14, 2019
Aug 14, 2019 at 7:08 PM UTC
A good poem is like a good sandwich
the layers are the lines that if not ordered right
would not rhyme and you wouldn't take a bite
The toppings are the words
alone are insignificant
but together make something magnificent
so rich with hidden messages and meanings
another way to eat your feelings
The sauce is the bit added hesitantly
because you're not sure how it is connected
these flavours you've perfected
and you hope the pieces all add together
to make your piece of art for you to munch
your rhyming lunch
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 6:46 PM UTC
What is cancer like
I just wondered if it was like a vitamin burp
Or something thing that just tasted wrong
Maybe like a song that runs through your mind
Or when you wake up with your throat raw
Might be the smell from ***
Maybe it tastes like a pizza with bad toppings
Or not me
Aug 30, 2013
Aug 30, 2013 at 10:44 PM UTC
*rarely ,,there is a question that is difficult to answer
and thoroughly,,,there is an answer which is* no need to question
yes it is ,,just if you only believe in our prayer
for there is no impossible with God for our avocation
for each one of you are the icing on the top of my cake
you as a whole were the toppings that can distinguish what kind of pizza is me?
what is the use of my vase without the flowers on it, especially to the
apple of my eye!
but i can not please everybody; perhaps i didn't mean to make some of you feels like as if water for chocolate
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 5:36 AM UTC
Honeyed sweet lust
drips a trail
I long to travel
tongue travail
Pert and round
ripe, ready to pick
my mouth waters
as I long to lick
Anticipation pains me
I want to dig in
my body readies
for original sin
Salivary sensations
toppings galore
this time its honey
no need for more
Nov 5, 2016
Nov 5, 2016 at 5:24 PM UTC
I ate lunch at Taco Bell this afternoon.
As I was people watching,
I noticed a guy who looked
just like "Chief" Bromden.
He was working on a burrito
and looking forlorn.
As he took his biggest bite,
the bite that signified
his commitment
to enjoying that burrito,
all the guts fall out of it.
He was visibly upset by this
and embarrassed as well.
It made me think that
such a happening is universal.
Hot, gooey pizza toppings
or burrito guts have fallen
in our collective laps or
bounced off of our shirts
and onto the floors
of a million restaurants
between us.
It ***** and often
it produces that feeling
we get in our stomachs
when we’ve become the center
of unwanted attention;
even if no one is watching.
This guy had the saddest face
I’d ever seen.
It was really depressing.
But, in the end,
I found myself hoping
that he’d smother me
with a pillow if ever he
found me to be the
victim of an unnecessary
lobotomy.
**** you, Nurse Rached.
***
-JBClaywell
©P&ZPublications; 2016
Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 11:53 AM UTC