Monday, May 18, 2015

Life is Like a Pizza (POEM)


Life is like a pizza
covered with infinite toppings
selected over many years
by a cook's incessant shopping.

Served before us in the morning
to finish before the night
because when the sun goes to hide
so also ends our light.

But on this pie, there's everything
we do or do not enjoy.
For vegetarians, it's the meat.
For carnivores, it's the soy.

Some like artichoke, some despise,
others can't live without fungi,
BBQ chicken is for but some,
a few may cry if there're onions.

Pineapple is a divisive fruit;
to put on sauce, some can't compute,
and foreign lands may like their squid.
The cook agreed? Of course he did.

Chorizo, pistachios,
carrot, dill, and proscuitto.
Lobster, oysters, and some prawn,
tomatoes, peas, and honey ham.

Oregano and spinach greens,
beetroot, shrimp, and some black beans.
Broccoli and watercress,
baby leeks and some sausage.

Everything that you might want
and everything you've never heard
quivering on sauce and cheese,
leaning toward absurd.

This is not what you ordered,
you know what you like.
But after all, it has been said,
this is the pizza of all life.

Not everything can go your way,
not everything preferred.
But, so you know how to feast
a philosophy I'll refer.

God, the cook of life
has given us the world to chew.
There are so many things to see,
experience, and do.

But even with all options,
there are toppings we'd rather not.
But even with all options,
there are things we'd rather not.

We may not want to fight depression,
we may be scared to skydive.
We may not want to eat scallions,
we may be scared to sprinkle chives.

But we don't have to turn away
from trying even a slice.
You can combat undesired
both in pizza and in life.

In pizza, if you don't want a topping,
you can just pick it off.
In life, if something troubles you,
puff up your chest and scoff.

When a cook cares enough for you
to give you every topping,
appreciate the bad and good
though that may seem quite shocking.

But if you liked everything
upon which you ran aground,
then nothing you would like,
for bad keeps perspective 'round.

If it was all you ever had,
it'd be hard to describe pepperoni.
But you've had so much more,
so you know to compare to anchovy.

And so life is like a pizza,
an adventure and a feast.
The cook wants you to cherish all,
but you pick what to eat.

No comments:

Post a Comment