Holiday

Write a Not Sad Lunch Poem for National Poetry Month!

April  4, 2016

“Now when I walk around at lunchtime/ I have only two charms in my pocket," writes Frank O'Hara in one of his Lunch Poems, the collection he published in 1964, compiled largely of poems written on his lunch break while he was working at the Museum of Modern Art in New York.

Photo by James Ransom

O'Hara knew a thing or two about Not Sad Desk Lunches: Namely, get out for a walk. And write a poem while you're at it. (He also was a fan of liver sausages and sardines and oranges—at least as far as this collection suggests. Whether he loved lentils, like we do, is lost to history.)

In honor of National Poetry Month—April!—write us a Not Sad Lunch Poem! Take inspiration from Frank O'Hara, or from our own Haiku52, and then take a few minutes of your own lunch break to write us a few verses in the comments below. We'll round up some of our favorites in a post next week!

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What are the most poetic foods to you? The least poetic? (Dare you to write a poem about them!) What's in your lunchbox today? Express yourself in the comments.

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Writing and cooking in Brooklyn.

10 Comments

R. K. April 13, 2016
A little bread and cheese and wine,
très earthy and very French,
better when the bottle’s not mine
but ours on a green and breezy
day that beckons, you know the kind.
To lunch my fill like this with you…
A little bread and cheese and wine?
 
Lindsay-Jean H. April 12, 2016
the most not sad lunch
involves cream cheese and green olives
in my daughter’s eyes
 
Lance C. April 11, 2016
Lunch time

I'm in #MyGalaxy
And she wants to be there with me
Showing me how much
She wants me to show her
Who I am
And it starts with lunch today
For she has a hunger and thirst
In a very special way
For today is that very special day
When I treat her to my desire
My desire to feed her
To fill her stomach with love

Love spooned fed to her
At the beginning
Because I want her to savor
Every single mouth full
Because this will set the tone
And create the expectation
Of the next part of this meal
And trust me
When I'm done
Her appetite will be filled
So as I ask her to open wide
For the next course to go inside
I reassure her
That there will be room for sweets
As I end the first course with
Bon Appétit.....

-MrBroadcast
 
Angelé A. April 11, 2016
Lunchtime is date time
For people like us
Living far from friends and family
Far from people we trust
Far from money to speak of, to spare
Mexican, Thai, Italian, all American
We invest in us
Our nourishment In words and food
Trying to make time and healthy choices
For bodies and minds
For us
 
msolo4040 April 8, 2016
I brought lettuce for lunch.
But it doesn’t pack a punch.
I’m trying to eat more healthily
But my taste buds act stealthily
And I find some quiche Lorraine.
My taste buds say, “no pain but weight gain.”
 
A H. April 6, 2016
No bread, no meat, what else is there to eat?
An apple or a pear
White beans and tuna
Wrap spinach with golden raisins
Or carrot ginger soup, my favorite!
 
John S. April 5, 2016
Didn't mean to make that post as a reply. Here we go again, in case it matter.

Not Sad Lunch Poem #1

It's always windy on the roof
lunch is better when there's a challenge
long ago eschewed zippy bags and napkins

for Tupperware and linen
a sturdy thermos and steel flatware
no hats, always face alee

I snuck a small table and chair this spring
four floors up no one knows
but me. The phone stays on silent

I can't read or write
on the roof or work through lunch
or worry about accounts payable

even the ones at home
which I can almost see
while I eat potato salad and tuna

It's almost winter
I'll stow the table and chair
behind the giant Trane

and go back to lunching at my desk
with a picture from the roof
and a fan
 
Jr0717 April 5, 2016
My lunch comes from home.
Mindful, frugal, tasty - yum!
My health is my wealth!
 
dc L. April 5, 2016
phone booth poem #4

i know you’re not a lesbian
anymore, but
does your boyfriend
know he looks like me?
-dlo
 
John S. April 5, 2016
Not Sad Lunch Poem #1

It's always windy on the roof
lunch is better when there's a challenge
long ago eschewed zippy bags and napkins

for Tupperware and linen
a sturdy thermos and steel flatware
no hats, always face alee

I snuck a small table and chair this spring
four floors up no one knows
but me. The phone stays on silent

I can't read or write
on the roof or work through lunch
or worry about accounts payable

even the ones at home
which I can almost see
while I eat potato salad and tuna

It's almost winter
I'll stow the table and chair
behind the giant Trane

and go back to lunching at my desk
with a picture from the roof
and a fan