Tag Archives: poem about eating

Working off Calories

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Working off Calories

Once I’ve xertzed down my dessert and licked clean my plate,
I subject my coffee to a similar fate.
And exhausting my sugar and caffeine allowance,
I nonetheless refuse to state my avowance,
for I cannot quit cold either sugar or coffee—
lattes or chocolate or cupcakes or toffee.
I won’t make a pact to take that big leap
to make empty promises that I can’t keep.
I’m suffused with the shame of these terrible truths:
I’m addicted to donuts and adore Baby Ruths.
Then gulps of coffee between every bite
keep me awake, I admit, every night
which means countless trips from my bed to the shelf
where I keep the means for indulging myself!
And it’s true that I scarf down more delectable treats,
but in my efforts to gather more treats,
I get most of my exercise going and coming,
getting in steps  on the way to my yumming.

 

I Prompt words are cold, pact, xertz, suffuse, allowance and empty. Image by Isumi Daizy on Unsplash.

Father at the Fridge

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Father at the Fridge

Even though our fridge is huge since we chose to embiggen it,
everything worth munching or gulping down or swiggin’ it
seems to always be in back or buried in a pile
at the bottom of a stack of foods that we revile.

Of course all of us realize it isn’t too judicious
to hide in back the very foods that we find most delicious.
We’re in receipt of evidence yet judgement’s been suspended
about the guilty family member who’s been apprehended

burying the good food, for though there is no doubt
of who hid all the cookies behind the sauerkraut,
while we’ve been eating lettuce, the guy who has been “pie”ing it
is the selfsame person who, alas, is the one buying it.

Prompt words today are embiggen, receipt, suspended, judicious, refrigerator and doubt.

Picky Eater

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Picky Eater

I can’t stand mushrooms, abhor liver.
To dine on brains just makes me shiver.

Drinking milk’s against my wishes.
Fish is simply for the fishes.

Raw tomatoes? I’d rather die.
And one more mouthful I won’t try?
I have no taste for humble pie!

For the dVerse Poets Quadrille Challenge: Shiver