I have the restaurant, too. I serve Southwest, barbecue.
quote by Mickey Gilley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Upon Visiting A Dying Woman In The Hospital At Room 108
actually the barbecue
is more than what it appears to be
its scent of meat
and the hotness of the spice
and delicacy of
the sauce
it is the front of something
that is hidden
there is something behind its shape
and odor
i cannot speak to you about it
so i offer you that
pork barbecue
i know that hunger that
does not want to be fed
time fills that
grief
that cannot be appeased
the barbecue is cold
set aside in one of the corners
of the table
grease is solidified
no one
not one from those who see
the emaciated body
of the dying woman
wants to take
the bite
someone does
but eventually there is that
obstruction in the
throat
and so the tongue
expels that piece
of pork barbecue
again
what a waste!
yet we can never voice
this matter out
the eyes speak a lot
but you know then
they have no voices
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Meals that I remember
At Camps bay the wind is blowing
and the waves leap and thrust
against the jetty,
where my eyes
roam over the big boats.
There’s a restaurant
that fries snook on the coals
and serve it with lemon slices.
My mouth still waters
when I think of Henk and Frikkie
each preparing a pot on the grill
and the aroma that makes
everyone much more hungry.
When I was ill on my birthday
and I and Lood fried stake and sausage
and I later ate it at work,
I knew how nice the food
from a braai really is.
Every meal that you prepare so deliciously,
surprises me with the things that you add
and I am like a king
when you are with me.
[Reference: Braai =>a Barbecue done in the South African way. Pot=>potjiekos. Something like a pot roasted stew. It’s prepared in a pot on a wood fire.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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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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We tried to set up a company that patterned ourselves after Southwest in all the fun, the spirit, the great people, the smile, the efficiency side of it, but we've added some extras that people aren't used to finding on Southwest.
quote by David Neeleman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paul and I were both struggling actors. One night he would serve me in a restaurant, and the next night I would serve him. It was what out of work actors did.
quote by David Soul
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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8: 45 P.m.
i had this chance
of seeing you
eating
in my favorite restaurant
you have beer
and some chicken barbecue
and chili sauce
and some
sticks of cigarettes
i know you
have seen me
first
and in hiding your greed
and selfishness
you got hold
of your cellphone
press some
numbers
and letters
and pretend
you are so engrossed
with something
else
i very well understand
how the hardtimes
convinced
you
to take the shame
of eating
alone
and simply forget
all the hungry
children
in our home
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A few years ago no hotel or restaurant in Boston refused Negro guests; now several hotels, restaurants, and especially confectionary stores, will not serve Negroes, even the best of them.
quote by Ray Stannard Baker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Plain Cacophony
when i walk alone Colon
i remember being treated for free barbecue
by my sister during her student days,
(it may not be important to you but it is
to me, for it was the first time that i have
had a free barbecue
with white rice wrapped by coconut leaves)
nothing significant really like it is an ordinary day
but there is one thing that i cannot tell you
i have seen stars there,
people who shine ordinarily without anybody knowing
that they are stars in their own right,
ordinariness felt
something that pleases you when you walk
and no one knows you
independent, open, nothing significant
you become real.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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It all comes back to the basics. Serve customers the best-tasting food at a good value in a clean, comfortable restaurant, and they'll keep coming back.
quote by Dave Thomas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The God that i serve
if you want to serve the God that
i serve you gotta be strong
if you want to serve the God that
i serve you gotta be prepared to live
a holy a life becouse my God is so
holy
if you want to serve the God that i
serve you gotta have a strong a faith
becouse with my God everything is
possible
if you want to serve the God that i serve
you gotta be prepared to serve your
spirit not your flesh
if you want to serve the God that i serve
you gotta fear not
becouse he protects us
day and night
he is a God who doesnt
sleep
if you want to serve the God that
i serve you gotta be prepared
to bring all your deasess
becouse he is jehova rhafa
and he can heal all your deasess
he is jehova jaera the lord my
provider
my God is jehova niecey
strong in battles
he is jehova shalom the God
that will get you the peace of mind
poem by Mathilda Maphori
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Well, I got people that help me with the restaurant. I don't have to be at the restaurant 24 hours a day.
quote by Mickey Gilley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Howard Hughes himself was a regular at the restaurant, and in a way it became his headquarters, too. Howard had recently relocated to Las Vegas, so when he wanted to do business in Los Angeles, he went into the back of our restaurant to use the telephone.
quote by Esther Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Barbecue
When summer evenings are nice and hot,
The thing to do is find a spot,
Where a barbecue can be set up,
So everyone can come and sup,
Relax with a bottle, and sit for a spell,
Which would be really nice and would end the day well,
And enjoy the light hearted, cheerful chatter,
With friends, who to you, truly matter.
Right!
The table's set, the flares are lit,
The music should be a real hit
The friends have arrived, the drink if flowing,
Laughter starts, the barbecue's glowing,
The cooking has started, the aroma's divine,
Everyone is getting along fine,
When!
The barbecue begins to smoke,
The chef, who's coughing begins to choke,
The chops are burnt the spare ribs too,
Everyone's looking very blue,
Conversation has now come to a halt,
What has happened, who's at fault,
There's thick smoke spiralling into the air,
It's now giving everyone a scare,
People are suddenly beginning to panic,
Good heavens, they are going manic,
What can be done, the food is no more,
The wine has been spilt all over the floor,
Everyone is utterly desolated,
For the poor old barbecue has disintegrated,
On top of that, it has started to rain,
It is really driving the guests insane,
The garden's looking a real shambles,
It really is just one of those gambles,
That the weather will go and change her mind,
But it's left such devastation behind.
The hostess takes a deep breath and swallows her pride,
Waves everyone goodbye, takes it all in her stride,
Clears up all the mess, and calls it a day,
But will book another date and just hope and pray,
That the weather forecast might treat them well, so
With friends once again, they can dine alfresco.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Eating Alone In A Chinese Restaurant
all my life i never imagine myself eating alone.
there is something detestable i think when a person eats alone.
either he is selfish to have to share a conversation with someone else
or that he is shutting himself away from this world where each must belong
to someone else, lest one can be branded as another scrooge
before Christmas, a misanthrope, a man who has no capacity to relate to
another human being, or even with a pet dog, or cat, to join him eating
in a restaurant.
i have seen some who eat alone in a Chinese restaurant, their eyes fixed on
the other customers eating alone too, sipping the bird's nest soup with the sound of a pig or a big bird, as though eating alone becomes a socially
acceptable action. I do not bother asking them, why they eat alone and look
stupid with their lonely eyes, falling faces, less hair, and protruding teeth.
then i start to eat alone by myself. I look at the passers-by one rainy day
through the glass window of the restaurant. I enjoy the noodles and the
sweet sour pork and the bottomless red tea and the jasmine rice.
i tell you, it did not take that long really to learn to live my life alone.
after you left me.
It is this eating alone in a Chinese restaurant which taught me. And now i am beginning to like it.
Sans love. Sans anybody.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Neighborly Guy
Baptist churches and brotherhood
In a tired, aging town
A moribund neighborhood
Where faith and fraternity are found
Cleveland Ohio’s a rust belt town
Ordinary citizens, still work out the days
Life comes and goes, has ups and has downs
But some neighbors are different in unusual ways
Take Anthony Sowell, a neighborly guy
A smile bright as the sunrise, none brighter or quicker
Liked to sit on his porch, by and by
Sippin’ from a bottle of King Cobra Malt Liquor
Had a few girlfriends over, seemed a regular guy
Neighbors came over for barbecue at times
Always said “good mornin’ and evening” and “hi’
Scrounged up ol’ metal for nickels and dimes
Neighbors at times notice odd scents
Of dead things or spoiled meat
Seemed to be coming from beyond a fence
Of a sausage maker just down the street
But Anthony sowell, a neighborly guy
Had compliant companions who sat quietly inside
Four on the couch slowly rotting
and three on the floor where they died
A few in the hallway
several upstairs in the bed
One in the bathroom,
on his workbench, a severed head
Anthony Sowell, a neighborly guy
was led in handcuffs through his front gate
Left his neighbors imaginations to fly
As to what was in that barbecue they ate
Anthony seemed such a neighborly guy
Some said they’d forever feel sickened
Some said they’d never eat barbecue again
Some said it tasted a little like chicken
poem by David Whalen
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Know?
When looking through the dark, tinge of light,
When looking through the light, tinge of dark,
When piercing through the heart, tinge of hurt,
When brain storming session, tinge of intelligence,
Those who writes a riddle, should know the answer,
Those who do the research, should know the hypothesis,
Those who work in the restaurant, should know to serve,
Those who represent the people, should know the misery,
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Public servants
People seek posts to serve from
So that they can serve you better
And get more than they serve.
15.04.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Waitresses
At a restaurant there are young girls
playing waitress
and with firm breasts
and long legs
sticking out of
short dresses,
trying to catch
anyone’s eye
They stand and talk together
near to entrances
and bend low over tables,
while they serve orders
in a way that men can see
their womanly curves better.
I wonder where
all their young girl innocence went,
while one stand at my table
with big eyes
and smiles as if
the sun sparkles in her teeth
and she looks shameless
inviting at me
poem by Gert Strydom
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The men and women who serve this great nation, whether they are stationed in Iraq, Fort Riley, or the Korean Peninsula, or they serve us at home as our community first responders, serve because they believe in America.
quote by Kathleen Sebelius
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gotta Serve Somebody
You may be an ambassador to england or france,
You may like to gamble, you might like to dance,
You may be the heavyweight champion of the world,
You may be a socialite with a long string of pearls
But youre gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
Youre gonna have to serve somebody,
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the lord
But youre gonna have to serve somebody.
You might be a rock n roll addict prancing on the stage,
You might have drugs at your command, women in a cage,
You may be a business man or some high degree thief,
They may call you doctor or they may call you chief
But youre gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
Youre gonna have to serve somebody,
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the lord
But youre gonna have to serve somebody.
You may be a state trooper, you might be a young turk,
You may be the head of some big tv network,
You may be rich or poor, you may be blind or lame,
You may be living in another country under another name
But youre gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
Youre gonna have to serve somebody,
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the lord
But youre gonna have to serve somebody.
You may be a construction worker working on a home,
You may be living in a mansion or you might live in a dome,
You might own guns and you might even own tanks,
You might be somebodys landlord, you might even own banks
But youre gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
Youre gonna have to serve somebody,
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the lord
But youre gonna have to serve somebody.
You may be a preacher with your spiritual pride,
You may be a city councilman taking bribes on the side,
You may be workin in a barbershop, you may know how to cut hair,
You may be somebodys mistress, may be somebodys heir
But youre gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
Youre gonna have to serve somebody,
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the lord
But youre gonna have to serve somebody.
Might like to wear cotton, might like to wear silk,
Might like to drink whiskey, might like to drink milk,
You might like to eat caviar, you might like to eat bread,
You may be sleeping on the floor, sleeping in a king-sized bed
But youre gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
Youre gonna have to serve somebody,
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the lord
But youre gonna have to serve somebody.
You may call me terry, you may call me timmy,
You may call me bobby, you may call me zimmy,
You may call me r.j., you may call me ray,
You may call me anything but no matter what you say
Youre gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
Youre gonna have to serve somebody.
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the lord
But youre gonna have to serve somebody.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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