Chili Poems - Poems about Chili

Mama’s chili pot put out a call Wanting a variety of beans in the fall Forty-nine types of beans showed up in all Auditions were conducted by me and Saul Lima beans were boring, dull and bland. Chili beans are always close at hand. Pork and beans were stuck up and snobby. Garbanzo beans were hard and knobby. We finally chose six types...

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Lee considered himself the most famous chili maker in the west Added tobacco, Heinz 57, cinnamon, gave it a big taste test We had heard about his concoctions, and could not wait. The first bite was terrible, second bitter, the third one a bad fate. What about this stew had given him a glowing review? We could not keep our...

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ship’s chief is a head chef. - I was that day I made my Dragon’s Breath chili with less heat Some folks found the heat mild;some ed -ok I put out extra heat as s a treat I made my Dragon’s Breath chili with less heat The chili had veggies,meat sauce and beans I put out extra heat...

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Patty’s perfect pot of piquant chili hit my pallet hard It is hot, tasty, sharp, tangy, made with grandma’s lard. What a strong zesty kick, this chili has, my stomach laughed. My own chili is less provocative, less biting, by maybe half. There is a secret ingredient, my aunts told me but she will never tell. We went through Patty’s...

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Just by your color: Red, makes me hot; how much more Now, you're in my food. ...

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I fix the best chili I can But my family has to doctor it up One of my daughter adds cinnamon Something she learned When grandma accidentally used it Instead of chili powder My son has to dump a pound of cheese on the top My husband motions for him to hand the rest of the cheese over. The little one whines that...

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Everyone keeps asking "are you signing up?"- Yeah on the other shift...

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Red hot chili pepper poker face... Born that way angry antithetical mailer daemon when... all of Christendom bows their collective talking heads in supplication, a temporary truce and reprieve against bigotry, deviltry, idolatry (nah), et cetera across the nation. Yuletide pageant merry doth go round where credo, ethos, and faith no more jinxes webbed, wide world, nevertheless soul asylum...

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These spicy banana peppers are hotter than hot. My annoyed esophagus yells “Not! Not! Not! Not! Not! Not!” They dance around and down my gullet from the crockpot. Temperature there is turned up to about a thousand watt. Some weird stranger asks me, “Is this what you brought?” Jalapeno and banana peppers tangled in a dancing knot? My overeager tummy is...

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Two old guys who won ribbons each year made a bet as the contest drew near: If just one of them placed, then the other, in haste, would eat two quarts of chili, with beer. For a change, kudos came to just one. The hot chili with beer was no fun for the poor loser Bart who for two days did fart while Joe...

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Stanley's Mom made the blandest pot of soup When you ate a bowl, your eyelids would droop Mom added hot chili 'Twas Stanley's achilles He took one bite and let out a war whoop...

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Miss All That (MAT) came in all prissy; serious cooks laughed a scoff. Dare this woman think she’d make the finals in the ultimate cook off? Something wrong with her we decided; her waist was too thin for sure. We are serious chefs, burly with shaved heads who create chili pure. Slimy's secret ingredient gives you flatulence and burps...

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There are many kinds of chili found in America's Southwest. Everybody has a hard time deciding who's the best. Maybe it can be found in Texas or Oklahoma. Some say to go to New Mexico or Arizona. Probably the best is further west in California. Others might try their luck somewhere in Nevada. Wanting to try them all will be a...

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I smell chili powder, onions simmering Salivate over chocolate brownies that are too hot to frost Wild neon paintings liven up this room; my own works of art. I hear my husband’s TV set, it is loud, and there is gunfire. I smell something lemon, possibly dishwashing detergent. Follow my nose to the sink. My husband has washed it! Not a...

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Elation wanes upon graying skies and a chill pierces the bronzed flesh. Pondering the thrills of rollicking ocean waves, I catch the scent of a warm wood fire burning in the distance. A pitchfork toss of compost upon the plucked ground; next spring’s planting will be well-planned through the chilly months. I sit by the fire...

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