LPiA-25 Nov. 7
#1
Let's Pretend it's April - Nov. 7
Rules: Write a poem for LPiA on the topic or form described. Each poem should appear as a New Reply to this thread. The goal is to, at the end of the month, have written 30 poems for the month of November. (or one, or six, or fifteen) Prompts may be revisited at any time. All members are welcome.

Topic : Write a poem inspired by Junk Food 
Form : Any
Line requirements: 8 or more

Feel free to reply with comments or kudos as you wish. 

Questions?
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#2
I wanna see that movie
No, costs too much to go out
Well it should be streaming soon
No, its just an indy film
Im just saying I want to
No, youre arguing with me
What? We're saying the same things
No, youre not listening to me
Peanut butter honey banana sandwiches
Reply
#3
Shelf Life

The mushroom clouds
bloomed above our cities
leaving only
cockroaches and engineered sponge cake
filled with sweetened, stabilized fat
that still couldn't be called food,
but it did survive.
Apples could melt on trees,
but sorbic acid and Polysorbate 60 were eternal.
Perhaps we were spared by the chemicals within us,
joined with the roaches
in this cream-filled wasteland.
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
Reply
#4
(11-08-2025, 02:01 AM)Todd Wrote:  Shelf Life

The mushroom clouds
bloomed above our cities
leaving only
cockroaches and engineered sponge cake
filled with sweetened, stabilized fat
that still couldn't be called food,
but it did survive.
Apples could melt on trees,
but sorbic acid and Polysorbate 60 were eternal.
Perhaps we were spared by the chemicals within us,
joined with the roaches
in this cream-filled wasteland.
Last week I had an early morning appointment at the bank. I made a quick coffee in a to-go mug, grabbed a cupcake someone at work had given my wife for Halloween, and ran out the door. Wasn't till I got home when my wife pointed out the BLUE DYE on my lips from the cupcake. I'd gone to my appointment like that (like I'd been making out with Smurfette) and no one said a word. Ah those healthy blue dyes. At least they make for stories. I'd like to see this one up for crit after November. I have a few thoughts.
Reply
#5
(11-08-2025, 02:16 AM)Tiger the Lion Wrote:  
(11-08-2025, 02:01 AM)Todd Wrote:  Shelf Life

The mushroom clouds
bloomed above our cities
leaving only
cockroaches and engineered sponge cake
filled with sweetened, stabilized fat
that still couldn't be called food,
but it did survive.
Apples could melt on trees,
but sorbic acid and Polysorbate 60 were eternal.
Perhaps we were spared by the chemicals within us,
joined with the roaches
in this cream-filled wasteland.
Last week I had an early morning appointment at the bank. I made a quick coffee in a to-go mug, grabbed a cupcake someone at work had given my wife for Halloween, and ran out the door. Wasn't till I got home when my wife pointed out the BLUE DYE on my lips from the cupcake. I'd gone to my appointment like that (like I'd been making out with Smurfette) and no one said a word. Ah those healthy blue dyes. At least they make for stories. I'd like to see this one up for crit after November. I have a few thoughts.
It's hilarious that they let you have blue lips all day without comment. Junk food was an interesting prompt. My initial thought was how is Ode to Doritos going to fly.
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
Reply
#6
I love junk food,
said Hieronymo Bliss,
and taking the piss
of starving children in Africa.

He was on an unusual tour -
a safari but of the poor,
not lions and the cameleopardales
afoot in the Savanna.

Nightly, in his cabana
he'd review the pictures he took
twirling his fork in the papardelle,
wondering why children read books
about astronomy, when farming chooks
was their future, if lucky.

Economically, being a slave
was better. His friend Dave
thought likewise, and voted Trump
for the left were excessively rude
and Trump too liked junk food.

That night, sitting in this chair....
I shall continue this tale elsewhere.
Reply
#7
Pilgrim Pops


Popcorn isn’t junk-food, is it?
Just another way the natives
knew to eat their big-ear cob-corn
roasted ‘til it shot white magic.

Some say they brought popping corn to
that first Plymouth Rock Thanksgiving;
we don’t know how they anointed
dry white fluffs like smoke from muskets.

No, the junk-food aspect comes from
oil of coconut or peanut,
salt or even caramel to
hide a toy - that’s Cracker Jack!
feedback award Non-practicing atheist
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#8
Some nights I sup on rolled oats soaked
the afternoon in milk and yogurt,
sweetened with fruit and made to sate
through a couple of blobs of crunchy nut butter,

and some nights I just have cereal.

Some mornings I let two pots of water
reach a rolling boil, the one to receive
a dose of spaghetti, the other to leave
cooling for a minute so as not to scald
the heaping spoonful of leaves in my cup,
then ten minutes later toss the twine in some pesto
I'd ground up in marble not two days before,

and sometimes I just gnaw at the bones
of a carcass I couldn't be bothered to reheat.
Reply
#9
It's fine I'm dinning

Theres a little man
sat in his van
a little man
sat in his kebab van

In the rain
he knows my name
in the rain
I feel ashamed

I got greasy shirt
beer breath birp
relish squirt
I know what its worth

I do a dance
called Kebab van prance
with the little man
who's name is Lance

Repeat after me !!!

If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out
Reply
#10
"Fast Food Fast"

My hungry eyes scan kitchen bare
then reach, defeated, for my phone.
No will to cook or even care,
I summon slop to eat alone.

Hoping in vain this time it'll be
less bland, and not so hideous.
It arrives, half-cold and sweaty;
To plate it seems ridiculous.

I warm it in the microwave’s glow,
Its grease congeals to sludgy paste.
One bite confirms what I should know;
Regret is all I get to taste.

Fast food is fast, but food it's not;
Now it squirms, coiled in my gut.
Reply
#11
Glutenous minds

Gluttony,
A sin of mind
Filling the body,
Unhealthy, unkind.

A pigsty for us,
We grow in size,
Fed to - fat.

Machine-pressed meat
Sugary bread -
The path to an early death.
I know that rhyme, rhythm, and meter are not academically standardized.
I am well aware of that, yet I primarily do free verse, and it's based on instinctual writing.
I try to avoid academic language or structure. My poems are not meant to convey a single answer.
I try to convey the unknown through minimalism, mostly dense short stanzas with many line breaks.
If you'd give a critique, please keep this in mind.
Reply
#12
(11-08-2025, 02:16 AM)Tiger the Lion Wrote:  
(11-08-2025, 02:01 AM)Todd Wrote:  Shelf Life

The mushroom clouds
bloomed above our cities
leaving only
cockroaches and engineered sponge cake
filled with sweetened, stabilized fat
that still couldn't be called food,
but it did survive.
Apples could melt on trees,
but sorbic acid and Polysorbate 60 were eternal.
Perhaps we were spared by the chemicals within us,
joined with the roaches
in this cream-filled wasteland.

Last week I had an early morning appointment at the bank. I made a quick coffee in a to-go mug, grabbed a cupcake someone at work had given my wife for Halloween, and ran out the door. Wasn't till I got home when my wife pointed out the BLUE DYE on my lips from the cupcake. I'd gone to my appointment like that (like I'd been making out with Smurfette) and no one said a word. Ah those healthy blue dyes. At least they make for stories. I'd like to see this one up for crit after November. I have a few thoughts.

How many of the people who saw you had read "Cat's Cradle?"  Huh
feedback award Non-practicing atheist
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