Short waves will be generally used in the kitchen for roasting and baking, almost instantaneously.
quote by Lee De Forest

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ban The Void
Ban the void.
Tch.
Ban the void.
Tch, tch.
Ban the void.
Tch.
Ban the void.
Tch, tch.
Grandma stopped baking cakes.
Tch.
Ban the void.
Tch, tch.
Brought me my first heartbreak.
Tch.
Ban the void.
I told her I couldn't take it.
She 'had' to bake another cake for me!
Tch.
Ban the void.
She said she was going on strike!
Tch.
Ban the void.
And even though I didn't like it!
Tch.
Ban the void.
She's not gonna cook in the kitchen,
She's itching to do something else to please!
Tch
Ban the void.
Tch.
Ban the void.
She brought herself a brand new car.
Tch.
Ban the void.
Tch, tch.
And drove to wherever she wanted.
Tch.
Ban the void.
She said she had her own special needs.
And will come and go whenever that need pleases!
Tch.
Ban the void.
I got so annoyed...
And I tried to stop that void deep down in me!
Oh...
Ban the void!
I couldn't go to sleep!
I dreamt of grandma's baking,
And it teased me!
I even cried my eyes.
But grandma's sweet potato pie kept creepin'.
Oh...
Ban the void!
Ban the void!
Oh...
Ban the void.
Grandma loved her brand new car.
And never got one ticket,
For her speedin'!
Ban the void.
Tch.
Ban the void.
Tch, tch.
Ban the void.
Oh...
Dedicated To:
In loving memory...
Clara Louise Countryman Pertillar
'Miss you, grandma! '
Love,
Larry
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Too Many Cooks In The Kitchen
Theres too many cooks in the kitchen
Theres too many minds on the job
Theres too many cooks in the kitchen
Everybody wants a piece of the action
Cooking the books and getting their fractions wrong
What we need is law and order
Everybody knows
Cant have chiefs without the injuns
Stepping on their toes
Theres too many cooks in the kitchen
Theres too many daps in the pie
Theres too many cooks in the kitchen
Everybody needs a place in the rat race
Playing games of power, its only a cat chase
Too many too many too many etc.
Too many cooks in the kitchen
[by the colonel]
song performed by by Xtc

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A little dog, a cow without horns, and a short man, are generally proud.

Rekindled love is generally short-term.
quote by Nicholas Sparks

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Show Tune II
That's the long and short of it
now you know
how I've been waiting all these years
where I'm coming from
that's the long and short of it.
That's the long and short of it
now you see
just how hot hot jazz was
how it turned about, my bookcase
that's the long and short of it.
That's the long and short of it
now you know
that my arrest record's
not my best record
that's the long and short of it.
That's the long and short of it
now you see
how the Past's like a love
you can neither leave nor live
that's the long and short of it
That's the long and short of it
now you know
it was no gun in my pocket
it was a rocket
that's the long and short of it.
That's the long and short of it
and you're wond'ring dear
how I kept so pure
hull, it was easy
that's the long and short of it.
That's the long and short of it
now you see
so bounce your head
into bed
that's the long and short of it.
That's the long and short of it
read the blues
in these tattoos
make a song of it
that's the short and long of it.
How I wish
there was a bridge-
then I could burn it;
or the train
of a refrain
then I could board it
but there isn't
no there isn't, so...
poem by Morgan Michaels

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Needing Ingredients
Some have a little.
Some have a lot.
And many choose to hide themselves,
Behind boulder and rocks...
With a blocking of their existence,
Nonstop.
Some scribble their riddles.
And some find time to rhyme.
While others disgruntled,
Try to compose their displeasures...
Although they have neither nickle or dime.
And a faking of what one has,
No longer teases the baking of a cake...
To give a taste of what could be great.
And those in the kitchen needing ingredients to mix,
Sit turning off and on the oven...
Hoping someone gets the hint,
They can not prepare to fix for lips...
If supplies are not ther to take advantage of it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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18 Definitions Of A Short Poem
1) A short poem
Saves time,
2) A short poem
Saves time
For its reader, also.
3) A short poem is over
Before its read.
4) A short poem
Can be swiftly reread.
5) A short poem
Is a lightning flash.
6) A short poem
Is one metaphor only.
7) A short poem
Is less than nine words.
8) A short poem
Opens ones eyes
In the morning.
9) A short poem
May be a short prayer.
10) A short poem
May be a poem of a single word.
11) Poem.
12) A short poem
A small play on words.
13) A short poem
May be a single sentence.
14) A short poem is shorter
Than the definition of it.
15) It breaks up the icy sea within.
16) A chill down the spine.
17) There is no end
To making definitions of the short poem.
18) A short poem in Hebrew
Is shorter than than the same poem in English.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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I think generally the Japanese players have more intensity in practice but generally I do the same things.
quote by Arsene Wenger

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rat In Mi Kitchen
(chorus)
There's a rat in me kitchen what am I gonna do?
There's a rat in me kitchen what am I gonna go?
I'm gonna fix that rat thats what i'm gonna do,
I'm gonna fix that rat.
When you open your mouth you don't talk, you shout
And you give every body the blame,
But when they catch you up,
They will shut you up
And you got no one to blame
(chorus)
There's a rat in me kitchen ........
When you out on the street,
You practice lies and deceipt
And you scandalize my name
But when I catch you up
I'm gonna pull you up
I'm gonna check-out inside your brain
(chorus)
There's a rat in me kitchen .......
When yo deh pon the scene,
You make everyone scream
Because they know your so unjust
But when they catch you up
They will kick you up
Because you someone they cannot trust
(chorus)
There's a rat in me kitchen .......
You invade my space
Make me feel disgraced
And you just don't give a damn
If I had my way
If I had my say
I'd like to see you hang
(chorus)
There's a rat in me kitchen .....
(repeat chorus and fade)
song performed by by Ub40

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Woman Enough
Because my grandmother's hours
were apple cakes baking,
& dust motes gathering,
& linens yellowing
& seams and hems
inevitably unraveling
I almost never keep house
though really I like houses
& wish I had a clean one.
Because my mother's minutes
were sucked into the roar
of the vacuum cleaner,
because she waltzed with the washer-dryer
& tore her hair waiting for repairmen
I send out my laundry,
& live in a dusty house,
though really I like clean houses
as well as anyone.
I am woman enough
to love the kneading of bread
as much as the feel
of typewriter keys
under my fingers
springy, springy.
& the smell of clean laundry
& simmering soup
are almost as dear to me
as the smell of paper and ink.
I wish there were not a choice;
I wish I could be two women.
I wish the days could be longer.
But they are short.
So I write while
the dust piles up.
I sit at my typewriter
remembering my grandmother
& all my mothers,
& the minutes they lost
loving houses better than themselves
& the man I love cleans up the kitchen
grumbling only a little
because he knows
that after all these centuries
it is easier for him
than for me.
poem by Erica Jong

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Come on in My Kitchen
You better come on into my kitchen,
Cause its sure to be raining outdoors.
When a womans in trouble,
Everybody puts her down
She look for her good man,
Lord he cant be found.
You better come on
Into my kitchen,
Cause its going to be raining outdoors.
Theres a cold wind blowin,
Leaves tremblin on the trees,
Dont you know that that good girl
Ya shes leaving me.
You better come on
Into my kitchen,
Cause its going to be raining outdoors.
The woman Ive been lovin
Left with my best friend,
That joker got lucky,
Stole her back again.
You better come on
Into my kitchen,
Cause its going to be raining outdoors.
Well that good girls leaving,
She aint coming back,
Took her last nickel from her notion sack
You better come on
Into my kitchen,
Cause its going to be raining outdoors.
Mamas dead and gone,
Fathers no wheres to be,
I aint got nobody
To love and care for me.
You better come on
Into my kitchen,
Cause its going to be raining outdoors.
Yes, its going to be raining outdoors.
Yes, its going to be raining outdoors.
song performed by by Allman Brothers Band, music by Robert Johnson (1978)

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waves Of Fear
Waves of fear, attack in the night
Waves if revulsion, sickening sights
My hearts nearly bursting, my chests choking tight
Waves of fear, waves of fear
Waves of fear, squat on the floor
Looking for some pill, the liquor is gone
Blood trips from my nose, I can barely breathe
Waves of fear, Im too scared to leave
Waves of fear, waves of fear
Waves of fear, waves of fear
Im too afraid to use the phone
Im too afraid to put the light on
Im so afraid Ive lost control
Im suffocating without a word
Crazy with sweat, spittle on my jaw
Whats that funny noise, whats that on the floor
Waves of fear, pulsing with death
I curse my tremors, I jump at my own step
I cringe at my terror, I hate my own smell
I know where I must be, I must be in hell
Waves of fear, waves of fear
Waves of fear, waves of fear
song performed by by Lou Reed

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. The Theologian's Tale; Elizabeth
'Ah, how short are the days! How soon the night overtakes us!
In the old country the twilight is longer; but here in the forest
Suddenly comes the dark, with hardly a pause in its coming,
Hardly a moment between the two lights, the day and the lamplight;
Yet how grand is the winter! How spotless the snow is, and perfect!'
Thus spake Elizabeth Haddon at nightfall to Hannah the housemaid,
As in the farm-house kitchen, that served for kitchen and parlor,
By the window she sat with her work, and looked on a landscape
White as the great white sheet that Peter saw in his vision,
By the four corners let down and descending out of the heavens.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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If I get blocked, it is generally because I don't know enough about some aspect of the story or the characters. The answer for this is generally more research, or making more background notes, so the place and person can be more fully realized inside my own mind.
quote by Sarah Zettel

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Kind Of Poet Is He?
To express oneself with words is to be a poet.
Generally anyone who writes could be considered a poet.
It just to what magnitude, and degree are you?
Do you do it with passion?
Do you do it with a sense fashion? (I try to do it with both, but that is not always achieved. But I always do it with passion for I love to write.)
Does their always have to be a purpose behind it?
Or can you start writing and see where it leads.(A lot of the time that's me, but I do both with and without purpose.)
Do you do it all the time, does come in waves, or is it a one time thing.(For me it comes in waves.)
Is they a trigger, or is it spur of the moment? (Me in general it is triggered by an emotion. It doesn't matter where it comes from either.)
So you see it's not a question of are you a poet, but what kind of poet are you?
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

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I Think Your Natural Habitat Is Bed
I think your natural habitat is bed.
Although you do so nicely,
in your kitchen, baking bread,
and when at the dining table,
can disappear the cheapest red,
still, I think your natural habitat is bed.
You paint truly lovely pictures,
in all the colours, blue to red,
write some you beaut bonzer verses,
as swell a modest feller's head,
but you're at your most creative
when you're cavorting with clothes shed.
So I think your natural habitat is bed.
You're really such a lot of fun
at things much better left unsaid.
But should we laugh the way we do?
Or should we groan some more instead?
Perhaps neighbours might be thinking
that we ain't really too well bred?
But you're such a lovely lady
and I'm so very easy led
and I think your natural habitat is bed.
poem by Red O'Mara

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My kid could get a bad X-ray and I could get a call from the doctor saying I have something growing in my bum and that would change my perspective on everything instantaneously, on what is and what is not important.
Ocean
Here comes the ocean
And the waves down by the sea
Here comes the ocean
And the waves where have they been
Dont swim tonight my love, the sea is mad my love
Its known to drive men crazy
Malcolm has burned at sea, the castle it sits and reeks
The madness can make you hazy
But here come the waves
Down by the shore
Washing the rocks that have been here
Centuries or more
Down by the sea
Here come the ocean
And the waves down by the sea
Here comes the ocean
And the waves where have they been
Castles glowing at night, towers above out fright
Warlocks decapitating
Malcolm he lives on hate, serve your brain on a plate
Feasts on your mouth for dinner
But here come the waves
Down by the sea
Washing the eyes of the men
Who have died
Down by the sea
Here come the waves
Here come the waves
Here come the waves
Here come the waves
song performed by by Lou Reed

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Short Peoople
Short People got no reason
Short People got no reason
Short People got no reason
To live
They got little hands
And little eyes
And they walk around
Tellin' great big lies
They got little noses
And tiny little teeth
They wear platform shoes
On their nasty little fett
Well I don't want no Short People
Don't want no Short People
Don't want no Short People
Round here
Short People are just the same
As you and I
(A Fool Such As I)
All men are brothers
Until the day they die
(It's A Wonderful World)
Short People got nobody
Short People got nobody
Short People got nobody
To love
They got little baby legs
And they stand so low
You got to pick 'em up
Just to say hello
They got little cars
That got beep, beep, beep
They got little voices
Goin' peep, peep, peep
They got grubby little fingers
And dirty little minds
They're gonna get you every time
Well, I don't want no Short People
Don't want no Short People
Don't want no Short People
'Round here
song performed by by Randy Newman

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Frost Roses
Ice Roses
Frost on windows? Not where I live now, but where
I grew up, winter windows had thick layers of ice.
And in mornings, before anyone got out of bed, I
carved landscape and faces and saw my work fade
slowly away, by noon I could see the landscape
I had carved through clear windows, the mountain’s
stream, frozen solid now, and trees; mother’s face
also as she was busy in the kitchen baking bread.
I do not miss the cold Nordic land I came from, but
wish windows here too have frost roses, or be as
blank as a new page I could write. “I love you on.”
poem by Oskar Hansen

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