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Death of a kitchen
Empty room across the restaurant hall
Not even a fly buzz.
The waiter is lying upon a table.
Of square blood patterns' cloth
The chef, has hung himself.
The porter run away with the mouse wife.
While the pan dance in the rust water.
Cupboard of Cockroaches.
poem by Luca Menin
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Ignored. (a Seagull Story)
Ignored. (A seagull story)
At the seaside restaurant it was busy everyone was eating lobsters,
I tried to catch the waiters’ eye. I was ignored and got the feeling
that I was Invisible, or that I was so small that my head didn’t reached
over the table. A seagull landed on my table a beautiful bird,
yellow beak and feet, plumage snowy white its wings light grey/blue
and its eyes were green; it also had the aroma of the Atlantic Ocean.
Waiter came, looked at the bird asked what it wanted, lobster, I said
when the dish came I gave it to the bird. Got up, left and no one tried
to stop me.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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A Cannibal is a person who walks into a restaurant and orders a waiter.
quote by Morey Amsterdam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lost in translation
At My favorite Chinese restaurant
The other day, I somehow got to thinking
about ethnicity
I wondered if there were Chinese Jews
So I asked my waiter
Explicitly:
“Do you have Chinese Jews? ”
I innocently asked
my Chinese waiter
“I don’t think so, I really don’t know,
But I’ll ask the manager and
Let you know later”
He returned in a while
And said with a smile
“no…No have Chinese Jews.”
I couldn’t believe it: a bazzillion people
No “Morrys“…“No Sheckys? ”
What astounding news! !
I queried him again
“could you check
Once more my friend? ”
He denied and replied,
“I regret to admit ItAnd don’t want
To offend
But what you ask for
Has us completely
Confused”
“So sorry to say… that for today
We have only: Grape..Orange…Tomato
and Prune Jews.”
poem by David Whalen
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Eating Together
I know my friend is going,
though she still sits there
across from me in the restaurant,
and leans over the table to dip
her bread in the oil on my plate; I know
how thick her hair used to be,
and what it takes for her to discard
her man’s cap partway through our meal,
to look straight at the young waiter
and smile when he asks
how we are liking it. She eats
as though starving—chicken, dolmata,
the buttery flakes of filo—
and what’s killing her
eats, too. I watch her lift
a glistening black olive and peel
the meat from the pit, watch
her fine long fingers, and her face,
puffy from medication. She lowers
her eyes to the food, pretending
not to know what I know. She’s going.
And we go on eating.
poem by Kim Addonizio
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Red Rose and Chardonnay
A dinner with chardonnay
Plates of love whilst piano play
A love song of long ago.
She sat by the table
A hands folded like napkin in array
And red roses on the table
Of two love birds
Today are their anniversary.
She excused herself
As the waiter arranged the table.
Today is their day
But her lover has another.
She waited for an hour
For he promised to surrender
The love he has for her.
She begged him not to part
But…he’s not here.
Nor his shadow emerged
Red rose and chardonnay
are now abandoned- by the table.
She exits in the moonless sky.
poem by Tess Rockenstire
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Restaurant fragments
That day we were in Burgundy’s
and somebody played the notes
of “Ballade pour Adeline”
on the piano
and it was peaceful in that restaurant
while a waiter brought the menu
and I ordered a bottle of white wine for you
and drank a glass of golden Hunters.
You were busy with your notebook
and were searching for a shopping list
as if suddenly it had disappeared
but everything was inter-textual
and our life played out in small happenings.
Much too quickly the time between us
was running out
so as if you already
had other greener pastures
and you were busy with the list
of things that we have to buy
and the quietness of the restaurant
came to lie in my heart.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Basic J
Jo the waiter spilling wine
Over some ex-friends of mine
In zero cafe number 9
What you gonna say this time
Basic j, say, are you new here
New ones walking down the stairs
Pretty young thing but no-one cares
Jo the waiter drops the tray
Do you always know your name
Jo the waiter smiled at me
Jo the waiters company
I keep him in a book by my fireside
A drama is my perfect bride
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Is Fair?
soon this restaurant shall close.
the customers are not satisfied
discriminatory food is served
the waitresses are arrogant
and the soup is bland and bugged.
it will be very lonely here
the bar will be colder than ever
the table dusty, and the chairs empty.
soon i'll pack up too, leave the place
and go somewhere else for good.
i shall not leave a word, i am not saying anything.
i shall choose what's next and what is fair.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Sensed That You Were There
I was sitting at the restaurant table
when I sensed that you were there.
I looked up to see you approaching
and you passed with an elegant air.
I didn't just sense your beauty
or catch the aroma of your perfume.
Your spirit reached out and touched me,
as you walked across the room.
I suppose I could ask the question,
why did your spirit choose me?
Or does your spirit touch everyone
who's in your vicinity?
poem by Orlando Belo
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Waiter! Bring Me Water!
He took me to--our favorite spot
A place we go to hang a lot
Something seemed to catch his eye
Oh--oo--oh over my shoulder
Oh--oo--oh over my shoulder
I turned around--to see whats up
A pretty young thing sure enough
She was new--he wanted to
Kno--oo--oh--oh--oo--ow her
Kno--oo--oh--oh--oo--ow her
Oh--yeah--
Then she flicked her hair (yeah!)
Oh--yeah--he began to stare
[chorus:]
Waiter! (waiter) bring me water!
I gotta make him keep his cool
(waiter) bring me water!
Hes acting like a fool
(waiter) bring me water!
Uh, oh, I did my best--to block his view
But it was like he could see through me
I just knew--he wanted to
Ho--oo--oh--oh--oo--oh--old her
Ho--oo--oh--oh--oo--oh--old her
Oh--yeah--i aint gettin nowhere (yeah!)
Oh--yeah--shes still standing there
[repeat chorus]
Theres gotta be a way to cool this clown--
Hes starting to embarrass me
I may even have to hose him down--
Bring me water
I dont know what he finds so distracting--
Whats so hot about her
I really dont like the way hes acting
Bring me water!
Uh, bring it on!
Uhhhh
Oh
Whats so hot about her
Uh, uh, uh,
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
(waiter, bring me water)
Gotta make him keep his cool
(waiter, bring me water)
Send him back to school
(waiter, bring me water)
Hes acting like a fool
(waiter, bring me water)
Waiter, bring me water
song performed by by Shania Twain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Set On Auto-Pilot
Not only have they been,
Floating along powered by denial.
Their minds have been set on auto-pilot,
For as long as the supplies held out.
Now no one can convince them,
They must swim to shore...
Aided by their own initiative.
For them what had existed,
Is no more!
Many have chosen to ignore this warning.
With a demand for a new menu.
And a replacement of a chef...
That has never existed to prepare a new dish.
They laugh and perceive this to be an absurdity.
'Excuse me? '
And the tides are rushing ever so close,
To toss them all over a cliff.
And this...
They protest with the loudest of voices.
And wish all of this nonsense,
Be stopped by the shutting of lips.
Excuse me?
Waiter?
Waiter?
Did you see him pass us?
As if he did not hear me.
WAITER?
That's it.
He gets from me no tip! '
That is why they pass petitions.
To avoid this 'foolishness'.
'Waiter?
And he's parading around here,
With a lifejacket on.
Waiter?
I'm demanding your presence immediately.
Oh no he didn't! !
Did you see him sush me? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Creep Hymn
The creep
Goes to a restaurant
And order the food to eat at the restaurant
But when the food comes he eats a little bit of the food
Just so he can taste it
And he tells everybody very loud that the food that he order
Taste like shit
And then he takes the plate and throws it on the floor
But he lives the restaurant without pay
The waitress from the restaurant looks everywhere for him in the Restaurant
Sorry waitress he is gone out of the door
And he run away so that you couldn't catch him
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Choose Stand Tall
Who will stand tall
at appointed trashing table
chosen accounting time?
Who are the strong ones?
I am inherently far stronger
than quitters can choose to be.
I am strong enough to choose.
How I will choose to live.
How I will choose to die.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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There are advantages to being a star though - you can always get a table in a full restaurant.
quote by Ingrid Bergman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Breasts On a Plate
She needed to feel more desirable.
So she placed her breasts on a plate.
She asked our waiter what he thought!
The waiter looked at me and apologized
For not being more prompt with the check!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Table
Who is sitting at our table
In our favourite restaurant.
Looking into each others eyes
While chatter smothers
Loving sighs.
As she holds his hand to squeeze
Under the table.
Will our ghosts drift on the breeze
Out of the window
Through the trees.
To be lost forever
Like a heartbeat
In dark streets
To pass away
Like loving nights on satin sheets.
Who sits at your table
Where candlelight
Lit your smile.
And we drank red wine in style.
To taste the sweetness
On your lips
The fruit of love
Minus the pips.
All out plans
We'd always discuss.
You would always make a fuss
About what you would wear
On our wedding day.
At that table
Our guest of fate did sit.
But didn't rest,
Couldn't stay.
Leaving me alone in twilight meadow
Like one last flower
To sway.
poem by Kevin East
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The other night I ate at a real nice family restaurant. Every table had an argument going.
quote by George Carlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dilatory Terrorist
'I want a curry in a hurry'
Said the man in the big car
'I think I’m going to Glasgow
Can you tell me is it far?
I forgot my AA route map
And brought the Koran instead
It’s a hard life being a terrorist
But I’ll be worshipped when I’m dead'
‘Ahah’ said the young waiter
‘Are you really one of them,
Who give their life up for the cause
Where will you strike and when? ’
With his nan and his samosas
He just smiled a knowing way
‘Ah ‘God is great and bountiful
Now I must be on my way’
‘But we have some tempting specials’
Said the young and waiting man
‘Well maybe I’ll be tempted’
And he ordered two and not just one
The route to Glasgow was explained
He now knew all the roads
And then he went to drive to there
With his incendiary load
He went outside the restaurant
He stood in shock and quaked in fear
The big car he’d arrived with in
Was no longer there - or even near
‘The bloody things been stolen’
He screamed up at the sky
‘Now what on earth do I do’
‘Oh why oh why oh why’
‘Who can you trust these godless days’
He wailed as if possessed
‘I will not be a martyr now’
He was in serious distress
The young waiter was upset for him
Than had a sudden thought
‘Tell me, sir, that car of yours
Was it rented, leased or bought? ’
'I bought it outright with some cash’
Not rented nor on lease’
‘Then, sir, let me suggest to you
You speak to the police.’
poem by David Keig
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The Curse Of The Greedy Gentlemen
Once there was a man that came into a Chinese store, the man asked for his food but when it arrived never thanked his waiter.2Never grateful of anything the gentlemen tasted the food that was served to him and spat it out in disgust. He then got his food and throw it upon the waiters face.4He explain that it was the worst food he had ever tasted in his life. The man, now filled with rage, cursed the gentleman to forever eat the food until he was as big as a house, and not to stop until he felt the pain from dieing from obesity.6So the man stormed out of the restaurant and when back to his home. When he had awakened the next day he had memory for the previous day but still went back to the same restaurant, and this time instead of eating the food and stopping the complain he kept eating, and eating, until he died of obesity in that very restaurant.8The man then arose and repeated his day of dieing from obesity, and again, and again. The man tried to apologize for his actions but it was to late, he was doomed forever to keep eating everyday, to feel the same pain every time, and to dieing each day, because of this ungratefulness.10For as the old saying goes: "Those who are grateful are those who show love, and those who show love are those who live long lives, and those who live long lives are never greedy."
poem by Augustus Gatlin
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