Ode to Yesterday's Protein Shake:

There you sit, forgotten.
Heading way south of rotten.
Because I ate an egg and cheese burrito this morning,
I didn't clean you well,
and there you sit scorning,
The fact i didn't wash you with dish washing gel...

What am I to do?
You probably smell terrible,
and i don't like things of your ilk,
You know, smelling of long forgotten milk,
so maybe I'll leave you for tomorrow,
when in my sorrow,
I'll pour you out
and without a doubt,
hold my breath
so as not to smell,
what I should have finished
yesterday with a groan and grimace.

Ode to a Cauldron of Apples:

Awaken,I did, to the smells of cookies a baked,
and urges of filling my mouth wide-agape,
with baked goods from yore
and regrets of my forlorn workout the night before,
I bought you apples pink lady, and tiny galas galore.
But no, in your cauldron you sit,
reminding me of the diet I quit,
and the terrible things I've been doomed,
in the past 3 months I have consumed,
enough calories in me,
to feed a family of three,
and this morning alone I ate plenty of dough,
a veritable slough,
of baked dough in bar form,
that now sitting here... my norm.
All I want is to drink
this terrible orange-ade and think,
to bring myself back from the brink,
and fix what's been making my heart ache.

Ode to some English Breakfast Tea

To make a change one must first....
Change.
You see, there I was, in the morning thinking about tea, and beverages,
and amongst the veritable multitude you sat.
Waiting patiently at the back of the tea basket.
Yeah, there is a tea basket, and you were toward the hind end.
And to be honest,
Hind end is an apt description.
I mean you're okay.
You're not the worst tea I've had.
But lets face it, when your hotness faded,
There was nothing left between us.
Like a train, the change... is coming down the track.
Chooo Choo!!!
Sink and Trash Can Express....All aboard!!!!
I think maybe I'll make some Green tea.

Ode to a morning Croissant #2

I don't know how to feel about you.
In that its hard for me to construe,
the feelings I have within,
for pastry with layers so thin,
and lacking fruit or sugar sticky-sweet,
and though i think you're hard to beat,
I should have tried to abstain,
and eat something more in the vein,
of my protein shake,
which could alleviate,
this terrible stout,
guilt I'm having about,
eating you
instead of something healthy and true.

Ode to a "Homer Simpson Donut":

Honestly, I don't even like donuts.
I just wanted to be Homer Simpson.
I thought this donut,
the donut of Homer.
The great grail of Homer-dom was my greatest leap toward that goal.
But now, crushed by the reality,
that Homer's ideal has pink frosting, and you have black.
I am lost.
Sitting at my desk, alone, no plate, begging to be eaten,
you cannot fulfill my destiny.
But, you'll probably taste fine anyway.
So much for being Homer.
D'oh!!!

Ode to a Box of Mike and Ike's

You, in the green box!
Yes you, all of you!
Little, Green, and Yellow, Orange... RED!!
Yeah you, the RED ONES!!!
Yes you destructive little guys, like... Like....
LIKE the huns!!
You hide in your big green box, all small and fruity, sweet and sticky
Waiting for me to falter.
Waiting for me to lose my dreams to alter,
my health and well being,
Original fruits flavor?
You must be scheming!
You sit there beaming!
And your bright colors abound!
But you make me fat and round!
Go back to your box, and stay there!
Never more to see the light and air,
You think I should care?
Hah!!
You little sugary nibs, you're quite the Dandies,
Its like me with noodles,
I end up eating the whole kit and caboodle.
Yeah...
Really.
I wanna be good, and eat right,
but a box of you is like afternoon delight.

Ode to a honeycrisp Apple:

How long its been my long lost.
Crisp, sweet, cold.
You become morning breakfast.

Ode to a Salad and Dressing

Romaine, Zuchini and Celery and Broccoli.
For Green is the color of money.

Raw Beets.
For Red is the color of blood.

Parmesan shreds.
For beige is the color of Earth.

An impromptu Balsamic Vinaigrette.
For black is the color of doom,

And "Et tu, Caesar" will never do.

Stir and mix,
Mix and stir,
Toss.
For chaos is.... The color of ALL.

Ode to some late night pie:

I wanted blueberry.
You said you had Boysenberry.
I ordered Boysenberry.
You gave me Blueberry.

The check said: Boice & Berry Pie
A LA MODE

A boice, and a berry.
With a little dairy.

A mystery... Boice, about you, tell me more,
are you delish down to your core?
Could you be better than my blueberry,
Such a thing could not be, or else.... Never More.

Ode to Mashed Cauliflower:

Mashed, Bashed, Smashed, Crashed,
Crushed, Smushed, Mushed,
Buttery, Garlicky,
Delish.
Omm,

I am BigRed destroyer of veggies.

Ode to a mistakenly purchased jar of creamy peanut-butter:

Seriously...
No... look, just hear me out.
You...
Yes you, in your near identical window dressing.
Similar in every... single... way...
You... Are... an impostor!
I made a mistake, but only because you and crunchy look so very similar.
In fact, unless I am paying attention
in the peanut-butter section,
I
Might
Buy
You.
And in so doing,
I will ruin a weeks worth of PB & J sandwiches.
No amount of double deckering, potato chip, fresh fruit,
ENHANCEMENT!!!
Will save these sandwiches from you.
You are an iceberg to my Titanic, a spark to my Hindenburg,
I hope, we shan't meet again.
Life is too short, and you,
make
me...
Meh.

Ode to a Croissant

I was so hungry I could have eaten a shoe.
But in this case you'll just have to do,
buttery and nice,
what would be right?
Perhaps just a slice,
if a slice,
were and option,
for me and you.

Ode to Lunch

Once upon a time I dreamt of meat all ground,
patty formed with french fried potatoes oily and golden brown,
But now for lunch I eat fruit and protein
So I can become a man lithe and lean,
Point Seven One pounds.
Melon, Pineapple, Strawberries, Tuna, corn, and chickpeas,
A list of delish fulfilling...Yummery please.
For tomorrow is another day, of protein shakes,
workouts and muscle aches,
and dreams of being not the man who was both red and round.

Ode to Frozen Fruit Bits:

Alas, Snacks,
You are deft and fell enemies.
Fresh, dried, pressed, crushed, popped, baked, fried, chocolate covered...
Frozen Fruit you are my knight in shining armor.
Frosty, tastee, sweet.
Pineapple how do you get chopped so uniformly, so perfectly triangular?
Blueberries, Blackberries, Raspberries, and Straw.
My fingers are sticky sweet, frozen and purple.
Alas, I am home.

Ode to some recent fruit:

Borrowed Bananas, are mighty nice,
better than a piece of ice,
Frozen fruit you're pretty neat,
and some might say you can't be beat,
but being me, prone to flights of hyperbole,
will tell you now,
I cannot love you more,
than my tiny apples right down to their core.

Ode to his hubba bubba strawberry watermelon gum:

You, the last of your tribe,
tropical punch, watermelon, bubble gum lost to a changing world.
Last of the mohicans,
you stand fearless against the grim black of eternity.
Though you are now flavorless...
and nearing your end,
Danielle Day Lewis should play you in your biopic.

Ode to a pink lady apple:

Alas, pinkest of ladies,
you are not so pink as your are pale red, dappled apple.
Thou without faults cast the first apple seed,
and plant yee an orchard,
to teach a man to fish you need an ocean...

Ode to a Disney Peach:

Its a small world after all,
where peaches frolic
toward the happiness that is my mouth
and it crushing morality,
Eh-Hem moLarity.
To die to sleep perchance to dream,
cause iiit'ssss a smaaaall world after all,
and its the ciiiiiiircle of liiiife,
and I'm one step ahead of the sword,
and you've got to pucker up your lipsss like dis, and bat your eyes like dis.
Disney dreams and peaches sweet.

Ode to some Fast food chinese food:

Self destruction abounds,
evil torn asunder into chunks of sweet, spicy, barbecued doom.

You make me sick.

Ode to a smallish Apple:

You were bruised, battered,
and beaten before you ever got to me and my office.
So I put you on a pedestal,
watched you,
admired your beauty,
even with your bruises,
some seen and others not.
But then I used you, did with you ...what I would,
took control, made you mine,
and took from you everything you had to offer.
You were delish.

Ode to a borrowed banana:

You weren't mine, but then you were.
Borrowed, begged, eaten.
Glycemic index be damned,
to the fiery metabolic inferno you go!!

Ode to a Medium Organic Apple:

Apre Dinner,
Post Lunch,
Linner, Lupper, Dunch?
An apple by any other name, never tasted so sweet.

Ode to a Tiny Apple #?:

When the heart doth grow fonder,
me thinks the lady doth protest too much.
But now, pushed out by your love I suggest a threesome.
Cheese, Apple, Me.

Perfection. Sigh.

Ode to a bowl of fruit:

Chopped,
Sliced,
Diced.
Oh So
nice.

Ode to a tiny apple #6 or #7:

Marbled like the acropolis,
you are also fresh like the acropolis.
That is.....
not.
Golden proportioned though you are,
crisp and new you aren't.

I still love you.

Ode to a Tiny Apple #5:

Your tinyness sometimes a virtue.
Today, my hunger un-sated by you, must look for more.
My love for you still burns greatly oh tiny sweet red and yellow beguiler.

Ode to a Tiny Apple #4:

Once you were but a seed.
Sweetened by the sun, left to grow and mature into all your glory.
Then you were plucked and gassed, bagged and tagged.
And now I'm eating you.
Cruel world, oh....what a cruel world.

Ode to a Tiny Apple #3:

Twist your stem,
tell me who i will marry when you break...
No, dare not to dream,
stay within your walls,
though round you cannot step out of your box.
Apple Apple in my belly, who is the one, tell me tell me.

Ode to another tiny apple:

My apple is sweet and tasty,
and though it has pips inside I'll not be hasty,
to eat it fast and consume with greed,
those very pips and spread those seeds.

Ode to a tiny apple:

You are tiny,
but named for Fuji,
Strength, Calm, Serenity amidst the bustle...
Delicious, though tiny
I am eating you,
Nom Nom Nom