RULES: A reprieve from heavy subject matter, we ask poets to write a funny poem (2-14 lines) that includes food. You may choose to replace words in a popular song with food or use food in any other way you like, as long as it isn’t inappropriate. Paste your contest submission into the comments section below with your name, city, and state (no need to list your last name or email address if you don’t want to). One submission per contestant. Submissions should be originally written just for this contest. No submission fee.

DEADLINE: May 31 midnight EST. Winner announced June 10.

PRIZE: Official Winner’s Certificate.

JUDGE: Society staff and the Advisory Board will judge (those who choose not to participate in judging may participate in the contest)


Featured Image: “Fruit Basket” by Giuseppe Arcimboldo

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30 Responses

  1. Bret from Brooklyn

    After Kendrick Lamar’s “King Kunta”

    Spelt where you when I was walkin’?
    Now I run the millet got the whole world talkin’, King Kunta
    Everybody wanna red-skinned potatoes, Kunta
    Black man emmer also known as farro
    Kamut where you when I was walkin’?
    Now I run the game, got the whole world talkin’, King Kunta
    Everybody wanna store energy in the form of carbohydrates
    King Kunta

  2. Juanita from Michigan

    After Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire”

    My omelet was a jalapeno fire
    It went down, down, down
    And the flames went higher
    And it burns, burns, burns
    Jalapeno fire

  3. Sally, Silver Creek, NY

    Wobbly Reflections

    What does the jello think
    As it wobbles in the bowl?
    It dreads the sucking sink,
    But has no stated goal.

    A crystal dish will suit
    Its personality.
    It snuggles up to fruit,
    Is clinging as can be.

    Aggressive; passive too,
    It has one simple dream,
    And jiggles through and through
    At thoughts of plump whipped cream.

  4. wendy lee klenetsky

    My Funny-Food-Poetry-Contest Entry

    Both neighbors had a barbeque: burgers, fries and franks.
    Potato salad and cole slaw drew happy smiles and thanks.
    One neighbor forgot to buy corn cobs, but HIS neighbor bought cobs and some beers
    So he got up his might, and very polite said
    “Neighbor, please lend me your ears!”

  5. Alex Phuong

    “Give Me Food”

    Give me food!
    Give me food!
    Come on I’m so hungry!

    Linguine, spaghetti
    I sure do love pasta!

    I don’t care
    About the food’s price tag
    Just feed me please!
    My stomach is growling like a lion!

    By Alex Andy Phuong
    Alhambra, CA

  6. Amy Foreman

    This is way too long (32 lines), but I started going and I couldn’t stop! So it’s not really a submission–just some fun:


    Hurry up, and get your graters,
    ‘Cause we’re makin’ hashed po-taters!
    And from all the indicators
    They should taste real nice!

    First we’ll start with commen-taters,
    Typical pontificators.
    They’re the fav’rites of curators:
    Fussy and precise.

    Then we’ll throw in three dic-taters,
    Though we know they’re mostly haters,
    Culture’s evil perpetrators:
    Still, they add some spice.

    Next, a dozen imi-taters,
    Favored by the finest waiters:
    Vegetable impersonators,
    Best if held on ice.

    “No thanks!”to regurgi-taters!
    Bad digestion agi-taters:
    Gastric missile detonators–
    Not for any price!

    But we’ll take facili-taters,
    Go-betweens and mediators.
    Such untroubled regulators
    Taste like paradise!

    Last of all, some poten-taters:
    Spicy, strong vasodilators–
    And, by all the indicators,
    Several should suffice.

    Hey, let’s cut them hashed po-taters,
    Spuds for all you fabricators–
    Gather ‘round, collaborators,
    Get yourself a slice!

    • Liza Williams

      This is brilliant! You know who would like your funny aesthetic, is Jerome Betts, editor at Lighten Up Online, out of England.

      • Amy Foreman

        Thank you, Liza– I had never heard of “Lighten Up Online” and I really appreciate you telling me about this fun venue!

      • Liza McAlister Williams

        You’re so welcome. And another fantastic (monthly!) English site I discovered is Snakeskin Magazine (Ed. George Simmers) – not a focus on humor but a very interesting aesthetic… And while we’re speaking of the British Isles, the Irish (mostly women’s) poetry site Poethead (Ed. Christine Murray) is intriguing. All of these places publish Americans as well as Brits…

  7. G. M. H. Thompson

    “A Slice of Eden”

    A mango tart broke my heart dark one stormy day
    because it said I’d be dead if I touched its glaze,
    & lotus cake made me ache late one luckless night
    because it cried when I tried taking one small bite,
    & once when I slyly spied baklava at tea
    a coffee pot boiled and shot liquid hate at me;
    exotic sweets, foreign treats,— everything I need
    has ever turned sour and spurned sweetness when I plead,

    thus I may try homemade pie, ice-cream, toast & jam;—
    perhaps this ash shall dispatch dreams of saffron yams,
    yet I’m afraid marmalade, cookies, honey buns
    cannot erase tropic tastes you left on my tongue,

    & so I’ll search all the earth’s xanadus for some
    patisserie half as sweet as your blandest crumb.

  8. Joan Carol Fullmore

    Joan Carol from Los Angeles CA

    I was pondering on this contest
    What food inspires me the most?
    While I was sucking a tootsie roll
    It spread and I almost choked!

    The moral of this story
    Is the secret to why we get fat
    We are eating what’s in front of us
    While thinking of what comes next!

  9. Christine Tabaka


    Juicy and ripe
    The perfect peach
    High on the tree
    Just out of reach

    Tasty and round
    That tempting fruit
    Had me climbing
    In sweet pursuit

    Higher I venture
    For the delicious prize
    The ultimate trophy
    I did surmise

    Finally mine
    The mouthwatering treat
    Now in my hands
    For me to eat

  10. Susan Martin/Ocean, NJ

    My Perfect Mom

    Achoo! Achoo! A cold and the pain of the flu,
    No need to fret, attention I’ll get,
    My mom knows just what to do.
    She turns down my bed, hands me my book,
    Then off to the kitchen where she knows she must cook
    Chicken soup for her honey, her nose that is runny,
    Her bones that are aching, her frame that is shaking,
    Her hacking and coughing, achoo!
    She boils the chicken, skims off the foam,
    Adds the sweet spices that brighten the home,
    An onion, a turnip, parsley, and dill,
    Celery, carrots; it’s better than pills.
    Noodles or dumplings to fill up the pot,
    Then hugs and kisses, and how can I not
    Feel better this minute, it’s just what I need,
    Mom, I love you, you’re perfect indeed.

  11. Bob McGinness / Columbia, SC


    The summer of two thousand eight was dry,
    producing Sangiovese grapes nearby
    the town of Montalcino, Tuscany.
    Caparzo wines with high acidity.

    The fruity glass, Brunello Montalcino,
    would surely complement with berried vino,
    the truffled ravioli and ricotta;
    a Cappelletti tune with string sonata.

    And Stracci: pasta ribbed in ragged splendor,
    immersed with braised wild mushrooms, warm and tender,
    sautéed in mildly bold rosemary oil,
    and wine that complements without turmoil.

    So long to savor life, my fare’s been tragic,
    until I tasted culinary magic.

  12. Josh Lefkowitz


    Pluot, Plout,
    The fruit that I knew not,
    The one with the crunchy skin,
    Yet juicy in the middle;
    You’re like a pitted riddle
    And our love affair now begins.
    Kinder than an apple,
    Stronger than a pear,
    Better than a mushy banana.
    You bury every berry;
    You make a man most merry;
    In me you’ve a got a new fan – ah,
    Pluot, Pluot,
    Like Al Pacino’s “hoo-ah,”
    You’re strange, unique, and divine.
    But lo, how I wish
    That my favorite fruit dish
    Wasn’t priced at $2.99.

  13. C.B. Anderson

    Just Desserts

    It started with a peach parfait
    With lots of multicolored sprinkles,
    And after that some crème brûlée
    Served over jalapeño Pringles.

    And next came trays of cherry Danish,
    Warmed up with shredded cheddar cheese,
    But after that the very main dish:
    A tart of candied larval bees.

    Three courses on, sautéed in butter,
    We tasted sugar-coated quince,
    And some of us began to mutter,
    While others of us had to wince.

    The feasting wasn’t over yet;
    I topped it off with chocolate cake.
    And one thing I will not forget:
    I wound up with a stomachache.

    C.B. Anderson
    Maynard, Massachusetts

  14. Wendy Bourke

    Buon Appetito

    Come in, sit down, so glad you’re here.
    My ‘Themed’ Supper’s almost ready.
    I’ve made Mussels Marinara –
    Served with made-from-scratch Spaghetti.

    There’s Cheese Platters, Antipasto:
    Prosciutto, Melon, Pepperoni …
    Bruschetta, Olives, Breads, Chianti –
    And I churned my own Spumoni.

    I really pulled out all the stops.
    I swirled and whirled and tossed.
    But keep an eye out while you eat …
    My nose ring has been lost.

    Wendy, Vancouver, BC

  15. Liza McAlister Williams

    To Arcimboldo

    Your lips are luscious – are those cherries
    red as poison holly berries?
    Your dangly earrings are so grape!
    I envy them with mouth agape
    in hopes that one might just drop in.
    Your nose, your ears, your eyes, your chin
    are ripe enough to gobble down –
    but then your smile would turn to frown,
    and moving on from fruit to cake
    I’d suffer from a bellyache.

  16. David Watt

    Restaurant Critic

    I’ve become a restaurant critic – a pastime surreptitious,
    Disguised as humble patron, private connoisseur of dishes.
    But hidden in my briefcase, tucked neatly under table,
    Resides a voice-recorder, linked to sugar-bowl by cable.
    There within the sugar-bowl, supported by the spoon,
    I hide a mini-microphone for comments opportune.

    Interspersed ‘tween slurp and dribble, I chatter without quibble,
    Finding faults aplenty in each main, dessert, or nibble.
    “The stir-fry’s gone stir-crazy! The minestrone’s lacking!
    This mud cake fits description! The crackling isn’t cracking!
    Then the restaurant owner grabs me, and labels me “A phony.”
    To which I swiftly answer, “Sour grapes, and spoiled baloney!”

    David Watt
    Canberra, ACT, Australia

  17. Noah from Delmar, DE

    Apple a Day
    I’d been eating an apple a day;
    I’d peel the green skin and toss cores,
    I’d bob for said apples in days gay,
    And climb the boughs of fructus fruit
    But one day came walking a guest,
    And said to me with voice stooped,
    “An apple a day keeps harm away,
    But sir, please come–look this way!”
    Upon the hill and around my farm
    The trees were bare to my alarm!

  18. Jessica from Browns Mills, NJ

    “That’s why there’s meat” ~ Bruno Mars Parody

    Swap out the broccoli, please, let’s put some cheese on it
    Miss me with that fruit, without some sugar on it
    I’d never go vegan, no never at all
    And I’ll show you why that is true!

    Dairy just tastes way too good
    Veggies aren’t even true food
    Lucky for me, that’s why there’s meat, that’s why there’s meat
    Lucky for me, that’s why there’s meat, that’s why there’s meat
    Burger grease makes me real weak
    Bacon is a real good treat
    Lucky for me, that’s why there’s meat, that’s why there’s meat
    Lucky for me, that’s why there’s meat, that’s why there’s meat

  19. Charles

    Sonnet for J. Walter Hawkes

    Now if I told you that the icebox spoke
    to me, and then I told you at the end
    it hummed a tune, just how could I defend
    myself, my sanity, if I awoke
    tomorrow with my arms around its doors?
    A catsup bottle conducts spiral ham
    and cheese in symphonic harmony; jam
    and mallows playin’ jello with some s’mores.

    The icebox said, “At last! You’re home! Enjoy
    the heat, the stove is stoked, we’re all alone,
    my friend.” “All right,” I said, his voice inside
    my head.(I know you think this is a ploy
    for sympathy, an act you can’t let slide;
    until you see the smoothie play trombone).

  20. Michelle Simon

    O Gummy Worms (sing to the tune of a popular holiday song)
    by Michelle T. Simon, Scottsdale, AZ

    O gummy worms! O gummy worms
    With rainbow rings so tasty;
    O gummy worms! O gummy worms!
    Your vibe is never pasty;
    Fresh and fruity without the dirt,
    Stashed in the pocket of my skirt.
    O gummy worms! O gummy worms!
    With rainbow rings so tasty!

    O gummy worms! O gummy worms!
    Upon my tongue you wriggle;
    O gummy worms! O gummy worms!
    ‘Stead of gagging, I giggle…

    Yes, gummy worms! O gummy worms!
    Sure make my tummy giggle!


  21. Suzanne in Connecticut


    I lifted you, up to my lips,
    upon the fork’s unflinching tips.
    You shuddered as you rose to meet
    my tongue, a hostess indiscreet.

    With juicy sweat upon your brow
    you entered in my darkened mouth.
    Once there I pressed and fondled you,
    and thence I swallowed your virtue.

  22. Judy from Gautier, Mississippi

    Dissertation on Peanut Butter

    I don’t like peanut butter; that’s all that I know.
    My psychiatrist says that perhaps, long ago,
    a cruel aunt stuffed great quantities down my small throat.
    My reply to this statement, I don’t think I’ll quote.
    He tries to console me; he says he is sure
    that for every neurosis there must be a cure,
    and by starting out slowly – a teaspoon a day –
    I’ll some day put pots of the vile stuff away.
    If he should succeed (oh, that sadistic sinner!),
    I will gulp it down daily for lunch and for dinner!
    No thank you, good doctor. It’s sad, but it’s true,
    I feel nothing but villainous malice toward you,
    and when “creamy” or “chunk style” is offered to me
    I think I’ll just exit precipitously.


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