Tag Archives: Dieting

Someone Stop Me Before I Blog Again!!! (New Pants)

On September 12, I posted a photo of a pair of khaki pants hung on my towel rod in my bathroom to encourage me to stick to my diet. At that time, I couldn’t get them zipped up. A week or so later, I could get them zipped and buttoned but they were pretty uncomfortable. Well, today, good news! They zipped and buttoned easily and were wearable. So, they are being retired and a new pair going up in their place. These are even tighter than the khakis were, so may take longer. It’s a great incentive to see them every time I go into the bathroom, day or night. So, here goes. It is September 20 and I’m counting down. I hope.

The Deposed:

The Newest Denizen of the Towel Bar:

Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow

Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow

I was almost mature, I was almost thin.
Now I must start all over again.
So please have compassion. Eat your own surprise.
Don’t bring me donuts or candy or pies.

I’m redoing my fridge and throwing out naughties
homemade by friends as well as my boughties.
Ice cream and truffles go straight in the bin,
for I must amend this shape I am in.

I’ll begin my diet as soon as I’m able,
pushing myself away from the table
as soon as banana bread I baked last night
has been depleted to nary a bite.

Then I’ll eat salads and green beans and stuff.
Doing without sugar will not be so tough
tomorrow. I’ll begin tomorrow, I vow.
Tomorrow works out so much better than now.

Prompt words today are almost, mature, ready, compassion and organization.

Flimflam

 

Flimflam

It was a wretched theory. They postulated that
if we’d all collaborate, we’d lose all our fat.
They weren’t very subtle. They gave us tubes of stuff
to squeeze over the food we ate, but never quite enough.
We had to buy the second batch, and prices just kept rising.
Whereas we never lost a pound—a result not surprising.
Later, they skipped out of town—an act our friends found funny.
They told us from the first the only thing we’d lose is money!!!

Prompt words today are wretch, subtle, collaborate, postulate and tube.

On the Nature of Matter: Atomic Dieting

 

 

In response to LWBUT’s post on the structure of matter—that it is mainly composed of empty space, here is my answer:

On the Nature of Matter: Atomic Dieting

When I worry about dieting in order to get thin,
I merely remind myself there’s less of me within!

Born-again Dieter

IMG_0575

My vegan concoction

Born-Again Dieter

My corpulent life style I now declare over.
I’ve taken an oath to only eat clover,
apples and carrots and barley and beans.
There will be less of me filling my jeans!
Instead of gorging, I’m going to be grazing.

I know the results will be just amazing.
So if you are willing and if you are able,
be careful, please, what you bring by my table.
Don’t pass near with ice cream or tiramisu

or I’m liable to accidentally waylay you
to survey your provender —those fruits of the cow—
just to “tsk tsk” your choices  with holier than thou
dieting lingo in loud fierce bravado,
eschewing your pancakes or your gado gado.
The world should bow down to my menu of choice

and if it doesn’t, in my loudest voice
I’ll be sure that you know what you could have chosen
that’s macrobiotic. That’s never been frozen.
That’s full of good fiber, sans sugar and gluten.

My mouth will be flappin’, my horns will be tootin’.
For now I’ve decided to be dairy-free,
I’ve decided the whole world should diet with me!!!

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/12/27/rdp-thursday-corpulent/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/12/27/oath/

Chocolate!

My talented singer/songwriter friend Christine Anfossie has just sent me the musical version of a poem I published earlier on my blog.  Here, again, is that poem and below is her musical rendition!  Love it.

10455648_10202182651834475_5477639009507785409_n

Chocolate

You’re being good and I am not.
I broke my diet and got caught.
I’d have resisted if I could,
but chocolate cake just looked so good.

I bought a piece, not a whole cake.
I thought a meal of it I’d make.
But now you feel you must rebut
my obvious need for chocolate.

Will you soon go? It’s getting late,
and there’s this chocolate on my plate.
And though I know it’s impolite,
the chances that I’ll share are slight.

Of your smug lecture I’ve had enough
and now it’s my turn to be tough.
If you must fall from your high throne
and dine on cake, go buy your own!

Click on the URL below to hear the musical version of my poem.  Thanks, Christine!

Cozy in My Skin

IMG_3144


Cozy in My Skin

I seem to fit my life now, I’m cozy in my skin.
No matter how far out it goes, I always fit right in.
When I gain a pound or two, my skin grows out to hold it,
and when my skin begins to sag enough for me to fold it,
my flesh grows out to fill it in. It’s become symbiotic.
That state of growing me out to my skin’s become hypnotic.

When encountering fresh pastries, a fugue state might ensue.
A box of chocolates empties, though I only ate a few.
Whole pizzas vanish in thin air, to my midnight grief.
They left the box behind them, this culinary thief!
The thought of uninvited guests is not very nice.
I make much of the mystery. Could it be dogs or mice?

Perhaps once more the kittens have discovered a way in
and at night when the lights go out, pursue their lives of sin.
Feasting on my pizza. Gorging on my pies.
Surveying my milk chocolate with their greedy feline eyes.
I spin a pretty fantasy, but the truths of this tale
are revealed to me each morning as I step upon the scale.

IMG_5405

The prompt word is cozy.

Reincarnation


Reincarnation

Two things of value that are fleeting––
life and love both set hearts beating.
Both sadly lost by types of cheating:
one by libido overheating,
the other just by unwise eating.
Once over, though, both bear repeating.

 

 

The prompt today is “temporary.”

BP and Me

img_8395

BP and Me

Cook a bowl of oatmeal and throw some apples in.
Cinnamon and cranberries and walnuts are no sin.
Gotta get the pressure down––of both my life and blood.
So no more salting French fries or pies of chocolate mud.
I exercise enough, I think, nighttimes in the pool;
but midnight trips out to the fridge brand me as a fool.

So a giant bowl of oatmeal with milk that is nonfat
and a bit more exercising where I once just sat
will guarantee I’ll live at least to one hundred twenty.
I’ll have lower blood pressure and zip I’ll have aplenty.
There is no secret to long life and staying young and burlier.
The answer lies in giving up life’s pleasures a bit earlier.

 

The prompt word today is “Giant.” (It’s not too obvious what this poem has to do with the prompt word until the second stanza, but originally, I had “giant bowl of oatmeal” in the first line. Alas, no rhyme presented itself, so “giant” got relegated to a bit further down in the poem and became less relevant.  Oh well. Main purpose of the prompts is to get us started, anyway.)