So, you seemed to like the Cake challenge...
now, inspired by File's apocalyptic vision of breakfast over here - (try clicking on that picture and you'll see what I mean), here's a new one:
write a poem about eggs
.
Friday, 21 August 2009
Eggs is Eggs?
So, you seemed to like the Cake challenge...
now, inspired by File's apocalyptic vision of breakfast over here - (try clicking on that picture and you'll see what I mean), here's a new one:
write a poem about eggs
.
48 comments:
go smash an egg
happiness is egg-shaped
go to work on an egg
e for b and georgie best
ev u ed un oeuf?
Anthem for sliced bread
What spread for those cut up as soldiers?
The workmanlike smudge of margarine,
or the rich benevolence of butter
are the usual choices at the breakfast scene.
No honey for them, no marmalade,
nothing special from the grocery shop,
just the sideplate line-up of the parade
before the toasted troops go over the top.
They must negotiate the veiling shell,
and dig in before the situation’s set,
movement’s important in that ovine hell
to prevent curdling in a Sommelette.
Their mortal crumbs are blown away like chaff,
a discreet burp their epitaph.
Melton, you've made me realise just how peaceful and stress-free MY breakfasts actually are. Cheers.
Great stuff, HLM and MM...bastards...you've set the bar rather higher than I like.
You're welcome.
Dammit, that should have been:
A discreet burp their only epitaph.
The shapely egg is the perfect meal
Its versatility and flavour are justly famous;
In truth, I'm not quite sure how I feel
About food produced by a chicken's anus.
Well, that's a bit of a mystery,
And rather difficult to parse,
Considering your propensity
For talking out of your hinterland.
Excellent oeufs so far!
Scrambled, fried, boiled or poached;
By all means eat eggs if you've got 'em;
(has the delicate subject yet been broached:
why does Mowbray stick them up his bottom?)
Anything that comes out of a sphincter
Is an indistinguishable linkter
The future: indeed,
Whether egg, log or seed
Much depends on the size and the stinkter
one egg, deux oeufs, trois oies, quatre canards, five chickens: where is the farm?
The Cotswold Legbar (charming name)
lays eggs of dainty blue
and though the inside's just the same
they seem like something new.
They have an unexpected air
upon the kitchen shelf
(not in the fridge, I do not care
for chilly eggs, myself).
They call to mind a song-bird's shell
one might spot on a ramble
smashed on the path, and truth to tell
they make a lovely scramble.
Humpty Dumpty took his seat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty got a priority call,
All the King’s horses and all the King’s men
Were under investigation again.
Humpty Dumpty was a hard-boiled hack,
Humpty Dumpty had the newshound’s knack,
All the King’s horses and all the King’s men
Had plenty to fear from Humpty’s pen.
Humpty Dumpty rang up his contacts,
Humpty Dumpty soon had all the facts,
All the King’s horses and all the King’s men
They were ripping off the citizen.
Humpty Dumpty counted the equine pills,
Humpty Dumpty checked the tackroom bills,
All the King’s horses and all the King’s men:
Humpty Dumpty collected the gen.
Humpty Dumpty went back to the wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a mysterious fall,
All the King’s horses and all the King’s men
Were suddenly back in the clear again.
There is only one way to have a bright bright sunshiney day
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NkwJ-g0iJ6w
In the late 19-teens, the young novelist John Dos Passos wrote in a letter to his friend Rumsey Marvin: "Eggs! Who will sing their epic?"
If only he had lived to read you lot. Good work all.
Guillemot’s are pyriform (precipitate precaution),
Yellowhammer’s scrawled-on; Cuckoo subcontracts her brood;
Kiwi’s is immense (a monument to ill-proportion,
And an eye-watering item for a Kiwi to extrude).
In Sheerness and in Sheppey the big-endish Kentish Plover
Plants hers nose-down in the sand, while the Carpathian clutch
Of the dotterel is not sat on by the polyandrous mother –
But, rather, by the father, who’s too dim to mind too much.
Patridge’s are numerous, Mute Swan’s are voluminous;
Penguin’s perch imperious ‘twixt their parents loving legs.
An amniotic avian in each resides incurious (O numinous
Is nature, and delicious are her eggs).
Definitely singing the epic there, Ringo! Great stuff, and MM's Humpty Dumpty too!
Guitou, it's when I try to pronounce something like 'trois oies' that I realise I don't speak French as well as I'd like:)
shell I compare thee to a summers day?
thanks for linking to breakfast Zeph, I'm a bit late to this... scrambling to catch up...
great pieces all, meltogs on most fine form here, (Anthems for Sliced Bread is just brilliant - "a Sommelette"!!) it's as if he was born to eggzemplify the nutritious!
Thanks. Eggsellent things from Zeff and Ringo. I thought you were a little slow off the mark there, file. Eggbound?
yes, eggbound in my own poached eggocentricity Melton, or should I say...
[dramatic chords, zoom to close up]
...Alvin.
(Sunra? Igor? Dirk?)
Deviled Eggo
hard boil personality
remove all yokes and mash
with Simon Mayo, mustard, vinegar
salt, Artpepper and mix
fill, season willy-nilly
with paprika and chilli
and sell to Billy Mills
at crossroads for [skills - insert required]
The Wild Astronomer's Breakfast
I watch that hateful orb each night
That owl's egg of a moon
Its shell, its yolk, its solid white
And search for Punic salt and spoon
And reach up with my hungry arm
To fetch it to my table
But it eludes me; I must do it harm
And top it if I'm able
I see it move across the sky
My fingers grope at visions
No matter what device I try
I ache with malnutrition
And so an axe I take in hand
And hurl it into space
Now, moon, your face is not so bland
There's egg upon thy face
Very good as always, file and freep. Such diversity of inspiration from the humble oeuf!
Which came first: the egg or the chicken?
A conundrum to make any bore's pulse quicken;
The fact is, as any fule kno
The first egg came from Tesco.
I love an egg
an ouef
What's an oeuf?
Can't spell, can't count
In French
Un, deu, trois, quatre, cinq
Cinq ports
Churchill's defences.
Five eggs - that's a big omelette.
Devil's eggs:
In three minutes' time,
Enjoyment sublime,
I'm hoping to beg
From this little egg,
Its fanfare proudly
Rattling loudly
Against the pan side,
As bubbles collide.
As keenly I wait,
Neat Soldiers on plate,
Two minutes to go
A crack starts to show.
The web starts to spread,
And with it my dread,
The breaches are burst,
This breakfast is cursed!
My egg broke this morning - most upsetting...
The shape of an egg is unic, a perfect design.
Oval, smooth,beige or white, so simple.
It's nature perfect, créativity at his best,
I enjoy to look at it, but never gone eat it
they could be eggs rolls, florentine,or benedict,
Protect the egg,it's so fragile please don't break it.
-The Eggs Protective Association is a non profit organization sponsored by millions of chickens who walked away from the food chain-
Rene Descartes, he lost his hair
his head was like a baby’s bum,
one day he looked in the mirror
and thought, Cogito eggo sum.
That was Descartes worst lapsus.
he meant: Incognito ego zoom.
Rene Descartes was somewhat pissed
he got through a bottle of rum
someone asked him why we exist,
he said, Croblitturgh blurrgo bummm.
we have to be doubtful about things Descartes said,too many bums are misinterpreting his Discours
about the chicken and the eggs.
Melto and Guitou, you are two Bums yourselves- My husband real name was Des Quatre and not Descartes. René never lost his hair because he was using eggs yoke shampoo, protein for the brain.
Voila.
Il ne suffit pas d'avoir une perruque bon, l'essentiel est de le porter bien.
Descartes, Discours de la Methode.
I rest my case.
give it up, Guitou, anything you say will only egg him on.
Descartes' theories on eggsistence have been widely misrepresented - what is, through a ridiculous scholarly error, known as the Wax Argument quite clearly refers to eggs:
Egg Argument. Descartes considers an egg; his senses inform him that it has certain characteristics, such as shape, texture, size, color, smell, and so forth. When he cooks the egg, these characteristics change completely. However, it seems that it is still the same thing: it is still an egg, even though the data of the senses inform him that all of its characteristics are different. Therefore, in order to properly grasp the nature of the egg, he cannot use the senses. He must use his mind. Descartes concludes:
“ And so something which I thought I was seeing with my eyes is in fact grasped solely by the faculty of judgment which is in my mind, as I assess whether or not it has made a tasty breakfast."
Eggcellent Zeph, eggcellent, no doubt about Descartes being an eggcentric-
Standing Ovation
it’s kinda kind of Kinder
to give away a toy
and sorta fun at Easter
those hidden orbs of joy
the gooey gunk in Cadbury’s
does wonders for your hair
and the gucciness of Fabergé
is lovely when it’s shared
they’re very nice to customize
(and verily to fertilize)
but the ova I love best
are those still in our nest!
A fine analysis, Zeff. I recently came across this in Pascal's Pensees (my translation):
The wig-wearing thinker Rene Descartes
Worked on the puzzle Duality set:
His mind liked the yolk, his body the white:
He solved the problem with an omelette.
Tasty poem, file.
All yokes (sorry, jokes) aside, the poems are quality. Just a few more and we'll reach two dozens, then Zeph can bring them to the market.
Egg! Thou wast favoured well in childhood days!
Strange ovum dark endowed with secrets sweet:
Full oft didst thou receive my puerile praise;
Now thy stickiness doth my tongue defeat.
Thou art with sickly goo too much replete:
A nectar vile in low contempt of taste,
Like pus that oozes from infected feet.
In what foul kitchen was thy noxious paste
Concocted, and with many venoms laced?
Years have passed since esteem of thee I had,
O rancid yolk in shell of mud encased;
By God, methinks my brattish brain was mad!
No heavenly virtue can e'er redeem
That accursed villain, the Cadbury Creme.
Cap'n a fine verse, but thou foul fiend shalt not turn mine affections away from chocolate!
(Pinkerbell/Polly)
An Egg is just an egg and glorious
We love eggs
130 miles for an egg.
A life in a day of Joe Egg, what about a life in a day of Joe Meek?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hTrkQeIyeZU
And Telstar?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u2ybCjf6ras
Mimi - you went 130 miles for an egg?? I suppose they are difficult to post.
Pink: spot on. Can't post an egg!
Mimi, I hope it was a very special egg at least. edible faberge perhaps?
Chaos at work, chaos at home, I should start eating healthy breakfasts.
Cheers munni,there is always a rainbow after the storm.
home let's break some eggs for the omelette:-)
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