Tag Archives: funny poems about dieting

Weight Watcher Coup

Weight Watcher Coup

Why would my Weight Watchers meet in a restaurant
that’s a buffet where diners can eat all they want?
I guess it’s to practice resisting temptation,
but instead I am feeling severe perturbation.

Potatoes and gravy and chicken and peas
and desserts where a person can eat all they please
are simply not kosher when one should be dieting.
Instead of resisting, I find myself rioting.

I charged up to the counter and filled up my plate
with a pile of entrees I’m ashamed to relate.
Then muffins and crepes and strawberry pie
spilled over the sides and reached up to the sky.

Something about me was slightly off-kilter,
and I found I was eating without any filter.
If they’d pared down the menu, I’d have much less naughty,
and the folks at my table might have looked way less haughty.

My table mates clucked and looked sad and disgusted.
It was  clear at buffets I was not to be trusted.
Yet I noticed also some looks of regret
as they surveyed these goodies that they, too, could get

if only they had the nerve to break ranks:
scalloped potatoes and baked beans with franks,
chocolate eclairs and ice cream with hot fudge
all could be theirs with nobody to judge.

Yet what could it hurt, just one serving of gravy?
Just one piece of chicken, one biscuit and maybe
one serving of pudding without the whipped cream?
Would one scoop of vanilla really be extreme?

I saw resolve falter as one after one
they returned to the line for a muffin or bun,
chicken fried steak or some pork or some shrimp—
first with restraint, then ceasing to scrimp.

And that’s how I broke up our Weight Watcher’s bunch
after a single ill-fated lunch.
I’m not proud of my actions and the resolves I’ve killed,
but at least for the present I’m sufficiently filled!



Prompt words for the day are filter, naughty, meeting, pare and menu.

The Unlikelihood of Dieting

The Unlikelihood of Dieting

Her curvaceous days were over. She was striving for the minimum.
She wanted her face molded and her abdomen tight as a drum.
She curtailed breakfast waffles and cookies, cakes and pies
and bought a stationary bike to exercise her thighs,
but to coin a phrase I fear her chances were slim pickens
so long as there were French fries and Colonel Sanders chickens!

Prompt words today are over, coin, curvaceous, curtail and minimum.

If I seem to be obsessed about losing weight and body image lately, blame the prompts and the fact that my friend keeps making me eat ice cream!!!

Withholding with One Hand and Giving with Another

Withholding with One Hand and Giving with Another

She feared that too much dieting would make her moribund,
and so she kept on dining until she was rotund.
She viewed dieting with horror yet felt terror when she viewed
her own form in the mirror, be it fully–clothed or nude.
Of all those excess curves and rolls, she wanted to be free.
Her rosy cheeks were garish, and she willed them not to be.
Yet her psychology of wishing misplaced not a single ounce.
She shed no flesh or inches, lost not one single bounce.

Until she fell in love one day and grew over-excited
when her amorous feelings led to passions unrequited.
And so she lost her taste for food and other worldly pleasures,
this lovelorn depression supplanting former measures
of trying to lose inches around her thighs and trunk,
and so her mass diminished as she slowly shrunk
from size eighteen to fifteen and eventually ten
and that girl in the mirror turned willowly and thin.

Men started to walk by her house and one man chose to linger,
and within the year there was a gold band on her finger.
Thus did she learn the lesson that our wishes might be met
by simply being deprived of what we want to get.
Sometimes deprivation triggers something we need more,
for we do not always know what life may have in store
when it withholds its blessings. It may be that when we wait,
exactly what we’ve wanted is dished out to us by fate!


Prompt words today are free, garish, terror, horror, rotund and psychology.

Midnight Bully


Midnight Bully

A constant aberration, it emerges in the night
to assert its domination, for it will have its bite.

It provokes me to assist it as I switch on the light,
and though I try hard to resist it,  I always lose the fight.

I wander down the hall and once the kitchen is in sight,
I make a beeline for the fridge as I bemoan my plight.

I am simply not to blame. It’s just my appetite
that draws me from my midnight bed to assert its right.

It is not my choice, for I have been true to my diet.
It’s my appetite that simply must get up and pie it!


Prompts for today are emerge, aberration, provoke and switch.


Happily, this is fiction, at least for the past three months, as I have been true to my diet for that long. 24 pounds as of today, but as you see, my subconscious and the prompt words conspired to take me down a naughty path creatively if not physically.

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.




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.

Dieting and the Art of Romance

Photo by i yunmai on unsplash

Dieting and the Art of Romance

There’s a scintilla of a chance that I might still be kissed.
His arm around my shoulder, his hand gripping my wrist.
If it were to happen, I just might not take flight,
but claim that kiss with open lips, as though it were my right.
Just in case, I think I might just start on a new diet
so if the chance arises, I will have the nerve to try it.

Prompt words for today are scintilla, diet, flight, wrist.

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


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!!!



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.



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!