Kitchen Poems - Poems about Kitchen

There’s a whale in my kitchen He wandered in through my sink My cousin does some ’n She is mean as the missing link Ma says he takes Lulu’s groove The whale laughed at Lulu’s plight I say let the freeloader move Asked whale to stay all night...

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Mouse turds in the kitchen In the soup and on the pie Mouse turds in my kitchen sink I truly want to cry Mouse turds on my sandwich Boy that mouse is fast! Mouse turd trail along the floor Now the die is cast...

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Written: March 22, 2025, for contest sponsored by Craig Cornish *********************** In the heart of my kitchen spices exude their aromatic allure a harmonic blend of flavors coddiwomples mute grief. . . cimmerian saudade in...

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Tony Stark, with his suit shiny bright, Tried to cook up a snack, late at night. His repulsors went wild, The kitchen was piled, "My tech," he groaned, "needs a re-write!" ©bfa031625 ...

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In the heart of the kitchen, where flavors collide, You wield your vocation, with passion and pride. Anointed by Heaven, with gifts that you bring, To nourish both body and spirit, you sing. With skilled hands you blend, a mosaic so fine, A feast for the senses, where taste interlines....

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in grandma's kitchen the aroma so sweet with every warm dish a memory to greet the clatter of dishes and laughter so bright a sanctuary filled with love and light her hands work like magic in flour they dance creating delights that bring smiles in a glance the kettle is whistling the cookies in rows her secret ingredients no one truly knows with...

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She shivers about, tense at the inhospitable world blinds and plexiglass seal frightened creatures from. Rocking from root to root — in front, in back, in the sun’s silhouette, the wind fancies her social anxious, as if her and I were not sustained by the same substance, as if our roads will not diverge. When I learn...

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The soup kitchen wasn't far from home Or school After school was dismissed I would run down to mama's soup kitchen And have a bowl of soup and chicken legs all to myself Mama said I was too small for wings or laps Years have passed since I saw mama I work in a local restaurant now...

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Hey buddy, let me tell you what's goin' down. Listen closely, you'll hear the sound of my kitchen, underground. What I'm cookin' is so hot, as it were, you might call it nuclear. I'll make some for him, some for her. I churn out the grub, hot and fast. My cooking's like a firehose blast. As much as I make, it won't last. I...

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sunday at grandmas big hubbub in the kitchen raccoon intruder...

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The kitchen table was the centerpoint of childhood, a place of gathering, an easel for artworks, battleground for homework and Eden for the creation of lifeforms moulded from plasticine. It was the Formica altar on which daily meals were celebrated, a patch of the real, ground zero for tears and laughter and a bench for my mother to cut fabric into shapes from...

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That calendar on the kitchen wall marks another crisp January's windy morning, it has brought in slowly-moving clouds, what has passed is part of evident oblivion... unless one remembers what did unfold: tragic days for most, nothing good to toast; more hungry mouths that beg for food, a terror-stricken street with deadly screams: New Orleans was the target of an assassin! Stay...

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From a home, where loud, yet weary voices reign My voice echoes like a Whale in the Atlantic squeaks; For a space to yield in, Perhaps, to seal a better space. Never again shall the kitchen be my only place! Yesterday, Mama didn’t dine with the nobles; But like an ancient maiden, she cleaned Caesar’s...

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Hand sewn farm patch quilt Primitive paintings Sheep, pigs, cows, chickens Snow falling outside My kitchen decor Peace in my heart Comfort from home Backs of my teeth Soft, warm cat fur Girls giggles Time ticking Heat humming Apples Laundry Wine...

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[An Autumn kitchen a crucible of y e a s t and y e a r n i n g] Samantha kneads dough with determined hands, she hears Hank's cry—"Vi vi an"—a phantom yeast in the air Her world f e r m e n t...

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