What have I done to you sweet ego?
I have chased too much poetry,
and verse, I've rehearsed,
with Viggo Mortenson.
I've sinned, I've let my belly
out of the telly. I've Sonnets
of meat jelly, and Vilanelles
Of both Pastrami and Mannicotti,
but still I've the finger to not!
Eat much more, I might swig a whore.
Good, and quite sore, I'll implore you
to answer the phone more, while
I work on eating a bone, or
regurgitating a clone from some
B movie nostalgia kept loan, on
why I care enough about you.
Simmering away all morning,
and scorning my top button
popping off into the sun.
Oh, you round mutton
Oh, you crusty meatloaf
Lord, the Sea Bass is something,
and the Muscles with rice pilaf.
There are six kinds of salad
And a Mexican ballad, about
whether or not it's valid to
eat dessert when there's more...
To eat after dancing?
I should have brought a tape recorder
when I crossed the border.
A smart poet would know that it's
impossible to write that fast from
the soul with one elbow and a
mouthful of whole oysters and
Tequila with a bowl to rinse off
your fingers with lemons.
Weddings are for food.
The poets drink is fine
Let me not be rude
To the bride's maid that has pined,
away at my lap all day.
Tonight shall be candles,
and wet lips against
what rips up from behind
to remind the bee that
the flower's power
is in the worded line,
Then the poetry is mine.
Yes, and I can just unwind.
In time with another
coming Summer.
And the lovers,
With their preen.
I dream away
Of food and young lovers.
This is something
I do for the world.
This is something I do
To feel alive, and
remember you.
And how we were
together.
Author notes
Written February 20th, 2004
In a list
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Comments
1 - 28 of 28
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This was a really cool poem...fun to read and deservant of a trophy to add to your collection, unforunately its longer than 40 lines, so out of fairness to the other contestants I can only offer you my praise and slap your wrist for not reading one of the four rules.
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I DONT UNDERSTAND IT! BUT IT SOUNDS COOL!
HAHA. to many big words for me damnit lol
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I know, I was bluffing the whole time.
Controled experiment. -
You know, even after the lesson you gave to Serenem I still can't see the alliteration. But you always were fond of putting in what you felt like and not abiding by the rules. I guess that's what makes a strong poet.
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I'm actually a Spanish avocado, but...
we can't all be obese midwesterners.
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I for one don't give a flying continental about poetry styles- I probably should but I don't. My entire criteria of a structure of a poem is whether or not that structure used actually assists with the power and thoughts of the piece. This is a great piece and not only intelligent but very wry in both its delivery and observation.
"Oh, you round mutton
Oh, you crusty meatloaf"
Paying homage to your slug again?
I loved this and I really enjoyed your small lesson to Serenam. I think I have done ALLITERATION justnever knew it. I am really good at alienation too!
Good writing and good luck
david
Edited on Oct 05 because ''. -
my heaad is swimming, lights are dimming and I am so pleaased to have read this and especially the comments....thanks for the lesson ...hope you get a gold one for this..
freda
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Ham and cheese usually do go 'good' with an omelet, I agree!
Heeeeeee.
Melinda
Edited on Oct 04, 9:29 p.m. because ''. -
Shame, I go good with an omellet and a trust fund.
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~laughing, laughing~
Not in a million years... =0}
Melinda -
Are you attempting to nude me?
Because, I'll have you know, my
pickle's fickle. -
Sweetie, I know what alliteration is... This poem just isn't the best example of it, even your bountiful examples prove my point. Don't sweat it... it's still a good poem.
Melinda -
ALLITERATION
Alliteration is the repetition of initial consonant sounds in neighboring words.
Example:
In cliches: sweet smell of success, a dime a dozen, bigger and better, jump for joy
Wordsworth: And sings a solitary song That whistles in the wind.
The matching or repetition of consonants is called alliteration, or the repeating of the same letter (or sound) at the beginning of words following each other immediately or at short intervals. A famous example is to be found in the two lines by Tennyson :
The moan of doves in immemorial elms,
And murmuring of innumerable bees.
The ancient poets often used alliteration instead of rhyme; in Beowulf there are three alliterations in every line. For example:
Now Beowulf bode in the burg of the Scyldings, Leader be loved, and long he ru led In fame with all folk since his father had gone . . .
Modern poets also avail themselves of alliteration, especially as a substitute for rhyme. Edwin Markham's " Lincoln, the Man of the People " is in unrhymed blank verse, but there are many lines as alliterative as:
She left the Heaven of Heroes and came down To make a man to meet the mortal need A man to match the mountains and the sea The friendly welcome of the wayside well
Robert Frost 's " The Death of the Hired Man " begins:
Mary sat musing on the lamp-flame at the table
Waiting for Warren. When she heard his step. . . .
The eye immediately sees the alliteration in the "m's" in "Mary sat musing" and the "w's" in "Waiting for Warren. When. . . ." But it is the car that picks up the half-buried in "sounds in" lamp-flame sounds which act like faint and distant rhymes.
Like rhyme, alliteration is a great help to memory. It is powerful a device that prose has borrowed it. It is the alliteration which makes us remember such phrases as: "sink or swim," "do or die," "fuss and feathers," "the more the merrier," "watchful waiting," "poor but proud," "hale and hearty," "green as grass," "live and learn," "money makes the mare go."
While alliteration is the recurrence of single letter-sounds, there is another kind of recurrence which is the echo or repetition of a word or phrase. This is found in many kinds of poetry, from nonsense rhymes to ballads. The repeated words or syllables add an extra beat and accentuate the rhythm. They are often heard in "choruses" or "refrains," as in Shakespeare 's "With a hey and a ho and a hey nonino" or Rudyard Kipling 's:
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' " Chuck him out, the brute!
But it's "Savior of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot.
Excellent use of repetition occurs through the whole of Rudyard Kipling 's " Tommy " " Danny Deever " and Alfred Noyes 's " The Barrel-Organ " especially in such lines as:
Come down to Kew in lilac-time, in lilac-time, in lilac-time;
Come down to Kew in lilac-time (it isn't far from London!)
And you shall wander hand in hand with love in summe -
Lots of assonance, not much alliteration. A good humorous poem, though. I enjoyed it.
Good Luck in the contest.
Melinda -
Stupid.
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Ok, good poem very cohesive. Call me stupid but I missed the alliteration. Good luck in the contest.
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quite the piece you have here, the contents are rather amusing, had the giggling through the whole poem, both times of reading it. good write, best of luck in the contest.
.~* God's P -
Hot diggity, that was a good poem. Very powerful from beginning to end, and only a little humorous, lol, with all that sarcasm and wit dripping from end to end. Very nice.
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how do you manage to write so much is what it makes me think of. i think i feel a teeny bit sorry for you after reading this and i wonder if you are always thinking about writing with loads of words in your head that you want to get out...it looks as though it comes so easy to you there must be loads that escape cos you wont have time to write them all down or remember them just think of all the ones you missed while watching the telly...and all the ones we missed...aw i dont think you are writing enough you seem to be slowing down
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Still grinning from the rhyme scheme. A fun read... sheer joy just from the manipulation of the words. It's not smiling sunshine, though. Just on the surface. (You're so friggin' talented.)
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did i tell you i love this?
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divine
oh. i love this. (didn't like the aspic sonnet that much though and have to reread the taco salad - but i think that frightened me way back then -wasn't there also leukemia in that title?) the oysters and tequila that's my favorite.....i had freshly caught scallops last night that were poetically silky delicate beyond belief. actually had them written into my last poem but thought "nah, shouldn't do that" and then i come here... -
OMG!!! I COULDN'T GET PASSED THE FIRST FEW LINES..
!!!
hehheheheheh you know Viggo??? rehearsed with him!!??? damn you!! LOLOLOLOL now nephew, you have to take Auntie Gilly to see him or else I amy have to sharpen my scalpels.. heheheheh
Oh, by the way.. loved this write
Poetry is food
For love, thoughts and meanderings into the soul
Shared photographs of time
Being washed, over and over again
Sepia loves labours, to conquer all
Who choose to use the pen
To lift passion beyond the white pages
Of lost and found
~GILL~xxx -
I knew it! Yes, I knew it all along ...
And yes: a lover of food, is a lover, is a lover, is a lover ... And you, dearest Poet, is quite gluttonious at times.
Perhaps you should leave your buffet and try to dance off the access of KJ? 
As I said before: you are writing scripts every time you pen a poem. LOL ... That bridesmaid! GRINZ
Myra
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This reminds me of someone slamming poetry on the mic without taking a breath then asking if there is any food left at the banquet table when he's done. lol I am just watering at the mouth for the "Sea Bass and Muscles with rice pilaf". Now you make me have to go for that midnight snack and I had declared I would eat nothing after 7PM, want to lose a few ounces, no really pounds, no really not a few about 25. I think I gained a couple reading this. lol Thanks for sharing. Keep slammin'.
Renee
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I just realized it was up in the box so I had to click on it for ya
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I swear sometimes you write in riddles, but what can I say you make me think...
your friend
Rhiannon -
Eat the words and regurgitate your art --- suffer in silence lest ye be judged a glutton of verbosity upon the white linen of the Lord's table.
I have no idea what you're raving about here, or so I say, but those dreams of yours are worth a taco here and a salad there - leftovers from the tables of those with plenty. Stuff your face and belly, lie back and watch the telly and just dream of leaner times.
Sometimes you just gotta rock when you talk.
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