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triskellianToday is National Poetry Day, apparently. Five minutes on the site hasn't made me any the wiser about what I'm supposed to do to mark the occasion, but it has revealed that the theme is food. Thirty seconds talking to the girl at the next desk reveals that we can each remember one poem about food (and, oddly, we each know the one the other remembers).
I thought of Wendy Cope's The Uncertainty of the Poet:
I am a poet.
I am very fond of bananas.
I am bananas.
I am very fond of a poet.
I am a poet of bananas.
I am very fond.
A fond poet of 'I am, I am'-
Very bananas.
Fond of 'Am I bananas?
Am I?'-a very poet.
Bananas of a poet!
Am I fond? Am I very?
Poet bananas! I am.
I am fond of a 'very.'
I am of very fond bananas.
Am I a poet?
And she thought of This Is Just To Say by William Carlos Williams:
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
Can you guys with your collective wisdom tell me some more poems about food? Or if you're feeling creative, write one ;-)
I thought of Wendy Cope's The Uncertainty of the Poet:
I am a poet.
I am very fond of bananas.
I am bananas.
I am very fond of a poet.
I am a poet of bananas.
I am very fond.
A fond poet of 'I am, I am'-
Very bananas.
Fond of 'Am I bananas?
Am I?'-a very poet.
Bananas of a poet!
Am I fond? Am I very?
Poet bananas! I am.
I am fond of a 'very.'
I am of very fond bananas.
Am I a poet?
And she thought of This Is Just To Say by William Carlos Williams:
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
Can you guys with your collective wisdom tell me some more poems about food? Or if you're feeling creative, write one ;-)
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A poem what I wrote...
Date: 2004-10-07 08:53 am (UTC)Chocolate is yummy,
When it melts it's runny,
Chocolates in shiny papier,
Make my figure shapier!
Re: A poem what I wrote...
Date: 2004-10-07 08:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-07 08:56 am (UTC)I eat my peas with honey
I've done it all my life
It makes the peas taste funny
But it keeps them on the knife
She thinks it's by Pam Ayres, but Google suggests otherwise.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-07 09:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-07 11:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-07 11:43 am (UTC)When you shake
The old sauce bottle
First none will come
And then a lot'll.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-07 11:10 am (UTC)The essence of it is that a little girl is told by her parents to eat her vegetables because there are starving people in Africa etc. etc. The girl, however, is of the opinion that starving people in Africa deserve much better and plans to send them cakes and crisps and chocolate and fizzy pop and so on.
I can only remember the last two lines, which go:
no subject
Date: 2004-10-07 12:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-07 01:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-07 11:51 am (UTC)You know, a slice of bread is all it takes;
It doesn't have to be too freshly baked.
A little stale is fine. Don't slice it thin
Else it will burn, fit only for the bin.
Spread butter on, as much as serves your taste,
And Marmite too -- though some would call this waste
Of good toast, to pollute it with the brown
Effluent sludge; the flavour makes them frown.
Then bring it to your lips, and take a bite;
Still hot, the toppings melted -- sheer delight.
Atop the bread-slice, crunchy melts with slick;
It's comfort food; it's easy and it's quick.
It may seem odd to write a poem 'bout toast --
But some days it's the thing I crave the most.
Epilogue:
And having written all about toast's crunch,
Somehow I think that it's now time for lunch...
no subject
Date: 2004-10-07 12:18 pm (UTC)Where's it from?
(Hmm, should use my food icon as well as my literature one.)
no subject
Date: 2004-10-07 12:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-07 01:03 pm (UTC)And I must try to resist the urge to come up with excuses to make you exercise your superpower for my entertainment ;-)
Since it's lunchtime an' all...
Date: 2004-10-07 12:10 pm (UTC)Please forgive my Sunday roast
The name is only there to tease
Everyone knows meat grows on trees
Re: Since it's lunchtime an' all...
Date: 2004-10-07 12:18 pm (UTC)Re: Since it's lunchtime an' all...
Date: 2004-10-07 01:05 pm (UTC)Though I have a feeling that there is a similar poem out there somewhere...
Re: Since it's lunchtime an' all...
Date: 2004-10-07 01:11 pm (UTC)*I'm so going to get bored of typing it that way soon ;-)
Re: Since it's lunchtime an' all...
Date: 2004-10-07 01:40 pm (UTC)And is gen-yoo-wine made with grapes from hundred year old vines, stamped by the feet of real French peasants? If so, I can see that it would get somewhat effortful.
How can nobody have mentioned...
Date: 2004-10-07 12:18 pm (UTC)With feathers long and wavy
It swims about the frying pan
And makes its nest in gravy
Re: How can nobody have mentioned...
Date: 2004-10-07 12:19 pm (UTC)I'm also amazed that nobody has posted
Date: 2004-10-07 12:39 pm (UTC)The Queen, and
The Queen asked
The Dairymaid:
"Could we have some butter for
The Royal slice of bread?"
The Queen asked
The Dairymaid.
The Dairymaid
Said, "Certainly,
I'll go and tell
The cow
Now
Before she goes to bed."
The Dairymaid
She curtsied,
And went and told
The Alderney:
"Don't forget the butter for
The Royal slice of bread."
The Alderney
Said sleepily:
"You'd better tell
His Majesty
That many people nowadays
Like marmalade
Instead."
The Dairymaid
Said, "Fancy!"
And went to
Her Majesty,
She curtsied to the Queen, and
She turned a little red:
"Excuse me,
Your Majesty,
For taking of
The liberty,
But marmalade is tasty, if
It's very
Thickly
Spread."
The Queen said
"Oh!"
And went to
His Majesty:
"Talking of the butter for
The royal slice of bread,
Many people
Think that
Marmalade
Is nicer.
Would you like to try a little
Marmalade
Instead?"
The King said,
"Bother!"
And then he said,
"Oh, deary me!"
The King sobbed, "Oh, deary me!"
And went back to bed.
"Nobody,"
He whimpered,
"Could call me
A fussy man;
I only want
A little bit
Of butter for
My bread!"
The Queen said,
"There, there!"
And went to
The Dairymaid.
The Dairymaid
Said, "There, there!"
And went to the shed.
The cow said,
"There, there!
I didn't really
Mean it;
Here's milk for his porringer
And butter for his bread."
The Queen took
The butter
And brought it to
His Majesty;
The King said,
"Butter, eh?"
And bounced out of bed.
"Nobody, " he said,
As he kissed her
Tenderly,
"Nobody," he said
As he slid down
The banisters,
"Nobody,
My darling,
Could call me a fussy man -
BUT
I do like a little bit of butter to my bread!"
PS I liked the banana poem.
Re: I'm also amazed that nobody has posted
Date: 2004-10-07 12:48 pm (UTC)I've now also remembered (vaguely) one of those 'moral tales for children' poems, about Augustus who wouldn't eat his soup.
<googles>
The Story of Augustus who would not have any Soup
by Heinrich Hoffmann
Augustus was a chubby lad;
Fat ruddy cheeks Augustus had;
And everybody saw with joy
The plump and hearty healthy boy.
He ate and drank as he was told,
And never let his soup get cold.
But one day, one cold winter's day,
He threw away the spoon and screamed:
"O take the nasty soup away!
I won't have any soup to-day:
I will not, will not eat my soup!
I will not eat it, no!"
Next day! now look, the picture shows
How lank and lean Augustus grows!
Yet, though he feels so weak and ill,
The naughty fellow cries out stillÑ
"Not any soup for me, I say!
O take the nasty soup away!
I will not, will not eat my soup!
I will not eat it, no!"
The third day comes. O what a sin!
To make himself so pale and thin.
Yet, when the-soup is put on table,
He screams, as loud as he is ableÑ
"Not any soup for me, I say!
O take the nasty soup away!
I won't have any soup to-day!"
Look at him, now the fourth day's come!
He scarce outweighs a sugar-plum;
He's like a little bit of thread;
And on the fifth day he was-dead.
More sausages....
Date: 2004-10-07 02:06 pm (UTC)One went pop! and the other went bang!
no subject
Date: 2004-10-07 01:02 pm (UTC)Don't serve me no more of that Irish Stew, Alice
You know it makes me pace the kitchen floor
and then wanders off into a hymn to the delights of old-fashioned puddings. Google is being uncooperative.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-07 01:20 pm (UTC)Beautiful soup
So rich and green
Awaiting in a hot tureen
Who for such dainties would not stoop?
Soup of the evening Beautiful Soup....
I'm afraid that's the best I can do on about 2 minutes thinking time....
no subject
Date: 2004-10-07 01:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-07 02:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-07 07:18 pm (UTC)Don't forget Grooks!
Date: 2004-10-07 01:41 pm (UTC)Never try to guess.
Toast until it smokes and then
Twenty seconds less.
Re: Don't forget Grooks!
Date: 2004-10-07 01:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-07 01:44 pm (UTC)Pig... Sit still in the strainer.
PIG! Sit STILL in the strainer!
I must have my pig tea.
(Alas, not mine. Read by an amateur poet at a local library many years ago.)
no subject
Date: 2004-10-07 01:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-07 01:45 pm (UTC)Who liked to eat sweeties that fizz
They tickled her tongue
And she went 'yum yum yum
And by the way, it's not Mrs, but Ms.'
no subject
Date: 2004-10-07 01:50 pm (UTC):-)
Time for a bit of Spike Millegan..
Date: 2004-10-07 02:06 pm (UTC)If you cast your bread in the waters, it returns a thousand-fold,
That's what it says in the bible, that's what I've been told.
So I cast my bread in the waters; it was spotted by a froggie,
And the bits of bread he didn't eat, just floated back all soggy!
Re: Time for a bit of Spike Millegan..
Date: 2004-10-07 02:18 pm (UTC)Re: Time for a bit of Spike Millegan..
Date: 2004-10-07 02:48 pm (UTC)Ohhh... another one from my childhood...
Date: 2004-10-07 02:53 pm (UTC)"Oh, come, come, come" said the sardine's Mum, "It's only a tin full of people!"
...I seem to have been strangely obsessed with food poems when I was little!
More food poems
Date: 2004-10-08 05:12 pm (UTC)Christina Rossetti's Goblin Market is all about food (or sex, hard to tell, really). You can look it up on the internet if you want more.
MORNING and evening
Maids heard the goblins cry:
"Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy:
Apples and quinces,
Lemons and oranges,
Plump unpecked cherries-
Melons and raspberries,
Bloom-down-cheeked peaches,
Swart-headed mulberries,
Wild free-born cranberries,
Crab-apples, dewberries,
Pine-apples, blackberries,
Apricots, strawberries--
All ripe together
In summer weather--
Morns that pass by,
Fair eves that fly;
Come buy, come buy;
Our grapes fresh from the vine,
Pomegranates full and fine,
Dates and sharp bullaces,
Rare pears and greengages,
Damsons and bilberries,
Taste them and try:
Currants and gooseberries,
Bright-fire-like barberries,
Figs to fill your mouth,
Citrons from the South,
Sweet to tongue and sound to eye,
Come buy, come buy."
no subject
Date: 2006-06-22 06:21 pm (UTC)No one mentioned "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," who not only wondered, "Dare I eat a peach," but also "measured out my life in afternoons and coffeespoons," and had a whole bunch of other references to food?
And there's always:
My bologna has a first name
It's O-S-C-A-R
My bologna has a second name
It's M-A-Y-E-R
Oh, I love to eat it every day
And if you ask me, "Why?" I'll say,
'Cause Oscar-Mayer has a way
With B-O-L-O-G-N-A.
It's an advertising jingle, but we always liked singing it when we were kids. And it taught us the right way to spell "bologna," too!
And no one mentioned "The Walrus and the Carpenter," either!
Or Ogden Nash's "Reflections on Ice-Breaking."
Candy's dandy
But liquor's quicker.
There's another Nash poem that
I really should go do some work now.
no subject
Date: 2006-06-22 06:22 pm (UTC)