En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Maiden Cook

A young pretty bride, very coy,
Entered her new house with joy;
She was highly educated, quite,
Bereft of the house-hold chores, right.
Next day her dear mother-in-law,
Beckoned her to the kitchen and saw
Her taking charge of the cooking.
The girl was aghast at the booking!
However, she made up her mind to cook,
And thought she'd take the cook book;
The menu for lunch was given,
As per the book she was driven.
Every often she ran to her mother-in-law,
And took her advice too, for she was raw.
On the dining table the fare was laid,
To partake, the other members she bade.
One by one, the items were tasted,
In appreciation, their heads nodded;
When they came to the greens to taste,
One, in a hurry got up and ran in haste,

One to the sink went to vomit,
The other took off his hands to wash it!
The girl was in a fix, with great worry,
As the mother-in-law tasted the greens curry!
‘My God'! she spit it out, and cried,
‘What is it you've done, my child'?
‘The greens, did you thoroughly wash, do tell'?
‘Yes, Ma, thrice, I did wash with ‘Surf Excel'!

.

poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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Cook Of The House

Ground rice, sugar, vinegar, seco salt, macaroni too,
Cook of the house,
Im the cook of the house.
No matter where I serve my guests,
They seem to like the kitchen best cause Im the cook of the house,
Cook of the house.
The salads in the bowl,
The rice is on the stove.
Green beans in the colander and where the res is heaven only knows.
Cinnamon, garlic, salt, pepper, corn-bread, curry powder, coffee too,
Cook of the house,
Im the cook of the house.
No, matter where I serve my guests,
They seem to like the kitchen best.
cause Im the cook of the house,
Cook of the house.
Where the rest is heaven only knows.
Matter where I serve my guests,
They seem to like the kitchen best cause Im the cook of the house.
Cook of the house,
Cook of the house,
Im the cook of the house.

song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Collard Green Romance

At one time...
One would have to beg grocers
To get collard greens in their stores.
Now the major food chains,
Have them propped up like kings and queens...
Among the lettuce, cabbage and corn!
They have obtained such notoriety today,
You have to have patience when someone
Grabs the last bundle.
And that person would not have admitted,
A leaf of a collard green bush in their neighborhood!
I saw these times coming.
'Cleo' didn't have the market on this!

When I finally can find Collard Greens...
Stocked like precious gems near the avacados.
I go to the suburbs.
Pig feet, chitlins', hamhocks, snouts and hoofs,
Are there!
Like it's a Negro Christmas going on!
Or...
Someone's been passing around my grandma's recipes!

When I cook my Collard Greens...
I season the water with dashes of salt, pepper
And garlic powder.
I slice one vadalia onion and a small potato.
I add three teaspoons of apple cider vinegar,
One teaspoon of lemon juice.
Two tablespoons of Olive Oil...virgin!
Cover and bring this crap to a boil.

Fill kitchen sink for the Collard Green bath.
This is where the true romance begins!
With baking powder, salt and celery seasoning...
Gently lift your Collard Greens and place them,
Stalk first into the warm and inviting water!
Rub each leaf between your hands under the water.
And while you are there...
Alone with your Collard Greens,
Glad you did not have to go to battle to get them.
You rinse them and begin to slice their leaves,
Grabbing them into a bunch...
And placing those cut leaves in a bowl.
When this task is done,
Put those greens in a pot that, hopefully...
Smells like an exotic preparation for royalty!

Turn down that boiled heat...under the pot!
To medium cook...
And let them do so for about 45mins to an hour.
Never rush cooking Collard Greens.

Oh...
When I want my Collard Greens,
To taste better than any on the scene!
I use baby smoked turkey butts.
In the boiled prepped water,
With the other sizzling seasons!
Any turkey butt will do...
But those baby butted turkeys,
Make gobbling up Collard Greens so delicious.

Enjoy!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mothers’ Day ‘08

North or south; east or west;
A mother’s love is always best!
Throughout its childhood, cleaned and dressed,
A mother gives baby, good rest.

A mother is the love-pillar;
A father is the source of strength;
A child is like caterpillar,
Metamorphosing in its length!

A mother keeps the home happy;
A mother cleans the babe’s nappy;
A mother tends to dear daddy;
A mom-less home cannot be sweet!

The angel in the house is mom!
The toiler of the home is mom;
The cleaner in the house is mom;
She knows all problems but keeps mum!

The chief-cook in the house is mom;
The teacher in the house is mom;
The care-taker is also mom;
She knowingly is sometimes dumb!

A spoilt-kid’s mom had spared the rod;
As children’s friend, mother looks odd;
For most things, mothers give the nod;
A mother is a demi-god!

Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-11-2008

poem by John Celes
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Rebecca

your father killed a friend
of his and
now he is in jail and what
your mother knows
is only to put the kettle
over a fire to make water hot
she does not know how
to make you all siblings
live and grow to be
reliable men and women

and so you are here
with us
to help us on our domestic
chores: wash the dishes
clean the house
nurse grandmother
and cook our meals

years of your hardlife
trust solidifies and now you
tell us that you are going
to marry this hardworking
man from Cotabato

we like you. to stay.
but no we cannot hold you
as your eyes speak of
a flaming love

our hands hold a dove and we
open them
to let this dove fly to her
destiny

just like you rebecca you
shall be free now
go! find the path where
your heaven lies

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Riverside

The river was flowing unceasingly.
On the bank sat a little girl
with a rose in her hand.
Lovely thoughts flooded her mind
of how she and her mother
used to come to the riverside
to wash their clothes.
The little girl always loved to
splash in the water, and at times
she knotted her fishing rod
and was busy fishing.
When the mother finished her washing,
both she and the little girl
would walk side by side,
the child with her fishing net
and a catch of fish,
and the mother with the
newly-washed clothes.
Memories came in one by one,
as the shore was deserted.
She drew so many pictures
in the sand, thinking about
her mother sitting in heaven
beside the loving Saviour.

poem by Aleyamma Jacob
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Auntie and Hand Washing

You made your way from the john
to the dining table
and Auntie said

have you washed your hands?
yes
you said

are you sure?
Auntie asked
looking at you

with her fixed stare
and the black mutt
under the table

gazed at you too
I washed them this morning
you said

let me see your hands
Auntie said
and so you held out your hands

and she turned them over and up
and held them looking at them
you're meant to wash them

after going to the toilet each time
she said
not just

when you get up
in the morning
she released your hands

and you looked at them
as if they were suddenly there
before you for the first time

so you had best wash them
Auntie said
before I dish up your dinner

and so you went back
to the wash room
and turned on the tap

and taking soap
between your hands
you washed and rinsed

and dried them
on the white towel
on the rail and went back

to the dining room
and showed your aunt
that's better

she said
now go sit down
and wait for your dinner

and the black mutt
put its chin on your lap
waiting in anticipation

for titbits from your plate
and Auntie called out
from the kitchen

remember to say your prayer
before meals
and you said ok

and muttered
thank you for what I'm about to eat
may there be few vegetables

and lots of meat
and the mutt's dribble
wet your thigh

its jaw lingering there
giving you
its dark eyed stare.

poem by Terry Collett
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Mother In Law

(a. toussaint)
Mother in law, mother in law
Mother in law, mother in law
The worst person I know
Mother in law, mother in law
She worries me so
Mother in law, mother in law
If she leaves us alone
We could have a happy home
Sent from down below
Mother in law, mother in law
Mother in law, mother in law
Satan should be her name
Mother in law, mother in law
To me theyre about the same
Mother in law, mother in law
Everytime I open my mouth
Steps in trying to put me out
How could you stood so low
Mother in law, mother in law
Mother in law, mother in law
Come home with my pay
Mother in law, mother in law
She asks me what I made
Mother in law, mother in law
She thinks her advice is a contribution
If she would leave that would be the solution
Dont come back no more
Mother in law, mother in law
Mother in law, mother in law....

song performed by by Huey Lewis And The News
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Servent Cook

mother

Cook

with love...

father

Cook

With taste...

Brother

Cook...

With enjoy...

sister

Cook

Simply fine...

Servent

Cook

A boor...

A woor...

poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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When Her Brothers Were Away.

When Monica asked
if she could go with you
and her brothers
bike riding

her mother said
no you're too young
or if she asked
to go with you

and Jim and Pete
to the cinema
to see the latest
Elvis flick

her mother said
definitely not
it's not for young girls
and Monica'd storm indoors

slamming the door
shouting I hate you all
but when you called one day
and her brothers were out

(gone to see their big brother
about some old motorbike)
her mother said
yes come in and wait

and Monica was
pleased as Punch
especially when
her mother said

you could stay to lunch
and I can show you
over the place
Monica said

and after lunch maybe
we can go for a bike ride
along the small lanes
and maybe you

could show me
some judo moves
and her mother said
we'll see I'm not sure

Benedict will want
to do those kind
of things with a girl
and went off

to make lunch
and Monica showed you
all over the house
whose room was whose

and up in the attic
she said
this is my room
and took your hand

and took you
to the window
and said
see the view I've got?

Isn't it the best?
and you said
yes it's good
and you took in the view

and looking around
the room you saw her bed
and the big pink elephant
there by the wall

staring at you
and she said
that's Pinkie
isn't she great?

sure
you said
and she took you
down the stairs

to the kitchen for lunch
and her mother
chatted away
about her sons

and Monica sat there
gawking at you
her eyes studying
each aspect of you

her eyes large
as saucers
blue and beautiful
and after lunch

you showed her
a few judo moves
which she loved
especially when

your hands moved her
and you sensed
her almost ready
to burst with joy

and just before
you were ready
to go for a ride
on the bikes

her brothers came
and shooed her away
and she went off
giving them the evil eye

but you she gave
the young girl wink
the we know
what they don't smile

and off you rode
with her brothers
but she kept
those moments with you

(to herself)
as if you were
Romeo and Juliet
fond lovers.

poem by Terry Collett
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There Is A Rooster On The Roof

Someone said,
Chickens will come home to roost.
And there is a rooster on the roof,
With binoculars laughing.

'I want some scrambled eggs made,
With toast and marmalade.'

Someone said,
He was too young to fish.
But with them he went fishing,
And came back with all the fish.

'Clean it and fry it up with wild rice.
Cook some collard greens,
And that will be real nice.'

Someone said a failure will be seen.
But they are not the ones,
Eating fish and greens.

And there's a rooster on the roof,
Croaking for chickens to lay their eggs.
And the young fisherman,
Bathes in accolades!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Susie

My daughter Susie, aged two,
Apes me in every way,
For as my household chores I do
With brooms she loves to play.
A scrubbing brush to her is dear;
Ah! Though my soul it vex,
My bunch of cuteness has, I fear,
Kitchen complex.

My dream was that she might go far,
And play or sing or dance;
Aye, even be a movie star
Of glamour and romance.
But no more with such hope I think,
For now her fondest wish is
To draw a chair up to the sink
And wash the dishes.

Yet when you put it to a test
In ups and downs of life,
A maiden's mission may be best
To make a good house-wife;
To bake, to cook, to knit, to lave:
And so I pray that Sue
Will keep a happy hearth and have
A baby too.

poem by Robert William Service
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Wash Us Away

On the very first decade that we got to dream in
Our fathers were angry, our mother's were screamin'
At the clothes we were wearin' and the music we got off on
Hitler was dead, welcome to Babylon
Carved our initials out across the sand
The heart and the arrow, no-one understands
Then the tide rolled in and everything ran
And washed us away, washed us away, washed us away
Up in the attic ambition was burning
Now my fingers were bleedin' but the tables were turning
Down in the city the future was beckoning
And I hated myself on the day of reckoning
(Oh yeah)
Carved our initials on top of the cake
The heart and the arrow - the rattle and the snake
How was I to know that the Earth was gonna break
And wash us away, wash us away, wash us away
Everything's temporary in this world
Ain't it a shame when you lose someone
Here tomorrow, gone today
Wash us away, wash us away, wash us away
There was never a fool like a young fool alone in
A world without someone he can find a home in
And for all the wrong reasons we rescued each other
You bandaged my heart I never would recover
(ohhhh)
No river runs true, it always takes a twist
Hearts can be broken, arrows gonna miss
How was I to know that it was gonna come down to this
And wash us away
And we wrote our names on the Dead Sea Scrolls
The young and the restless, the brave and the bold
How was we to know it was gonna get outta control
And wash us away, wash us away, wash us away, wash us away, wash us away,wash us away, wash us away

song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alone Again In The Lap Of Luxury

(music: marillion lyrics: steve hogarth & john helmer)
See those people there?
They look after me
This is a photograph of who I might be
Man in a uniform ... bride on his arm
Mum always was a fool for money and charm
Hes been talkin in his sleep again
Sayin hes sorry, callin my name
Sayin how hes ashamed ...
Alone again in the lap of luxury
Since it happened I had nothin to say
It used to bother them but now its ok
Mother cleans his dreadful house every day
Scrubbing all the stains that wont go away
They sent me away to the school in the park
They said it would be good for me
I still hear the other kids cry in the dark
Alone again in the lap of luxury
Is there no escape
I dont remember the last time I cried
I dont remember much except lies
See the little girl spirallin down
This is a photograph of who she is now
One day this will all be yours he said
Tidy your room and straight to bed
Tidy up those thoughts in your head
Alone again in the lap of luxury
I could be anywhere right now
If I only had the nerve to leave this house
Maybe somewhere by the sea ...
Take me somewhere, anywhere please!
We could make a pillow of sand and sleep
We could roll
We could make
We could see
We could scream
Far
Father
Farthest
Oh daddy ...
You do not do anymore ...
For gods sake dont pretend to be concerned ...
Turn into nightmares in the end
Throw a party for all my friends
Alone again in the lap of luxury
(I) now wash your hands
You give up hope
You settle down
With your favourite soap ...
Now wash your hands

song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm good in the kitchen. I can cook seafood, collard greens, black-eyed peas.

quote by Monique Coleman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A letter which never sended

Last night I was a dream
About your house
Were the roof leaks everywhere
A green-painted house dull
I walk to the room
To the kitchen
To the front
The water to flood (inundate) on the floor
The water rose higher and higher
Flow to the visiting room
I walk to bend (bow, stop) and to walk on tiptoe,
I walk on tiptoe to avoid The water flood
Everywhere, from the front to backyard
I walk on zig-zag
Head made a low bow
To avoid the bird excrement
Much of bird cage hanged
On the roof

when the water to flood (inundate) increasing highest
to their food’ knee, -you still cook in the kichen
in the bend of the dull wall and moss-covered/mildewed
The water flood increasing and increasing on the foots
to the broken chairs
to wet, dampen the books which to scatter, spread everywhere
I could stop to find your mother anymore
she likes to codle me (to observe by holding in the hand)
when I was child: “She said, I just could walk
run around the kitchen, along the corridor
and riding the pedicab cycle
near the thing being dired/the wash
while playing the little car.”

To day i find your mother
In the overcast house
A green-painted house dull
Dull painted
Dark and overcast
The water to flood (inundate) on the floor
Everywhere
Just I found your mother walking stick
And her articial foot

poem by Prasetya Utama
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Throw Yourself Away

Baby's born on the bathroom floor
her mother prays that it'll never cry
but nothing's wrong you got your prom dress on
When they ask you'llsay it isn't mine
Oooh, you know they're gonna know you lied
Why the hell don't you throw yourself away
You know they're gonna burn it down
Wash my, hands of this
You notice that God ain't even helping you out
Wash my, hands of this
You notice that God aint even helping you
Why the hell don't you throw yourself away
You know they're gonna burn it down
So keep the way you feel anonymous
And hide it all until the day you die
your secret's safe at least you thought it was
But you can only keep it for a little while
Oooh, and now you're terrified
Why the hell don't you throw yourself away
You know they're gonna burn it down
Wash my, hands of this
You notice that God ain't even helping you out
Wash my, hands of this
You notice that God aint even helping you
Why the hell don't you throw yourself away
You know they're gonna burn it down
Baby's born on the bathroom floor
Her Mother prays that it'll never cry
but nothing's wrong you got your prom dress on
And when they ask you say it isn't mine
And damn you for thinkin' we would never know
And damn you for thinkin' we would never mind
theOnly reason that you'd made it this far
You never asked him but you never try
Why the hell don't you throw yourself away
Why the hell don't you throw yourself away
You know they're gonna burn it down
Wash my, hands of this
You notice that God aint even helping you out
Wash my, hands of this
You notice that God aint even helping you out
Wash my, hands of this
You notice that God aint even helping you out
Wash my, hands of this
You notice that God aint even helping you
Why the hell don't you throw yourself away
You know they're gonna burn it down

song performed by by Nickelback
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Is A Mother

What is a mother? 10/11/07

What is a mother? You ask me!
It is something which is hard to explain.
Because no two mothers are the same.
They can be gentle as a breeze on
A mid-summers nights dream.
Or as hard as a rock which you can not stop.

They can love you one minute-and spank you the next.
If you put them to a test.
They will feed you and clothe you
And put a roof over your head-and give you
A warm, soft comfortable bed.
They will dry your tears, and heal your cuts.
They will show you the rights from wrong
So you can grow big and strong.

If you’re a girl-they’ll teach you about satin and lace.
And if you’re a boy-you must “wash your face”.

A mother is first a woman, then a wife.
Then she creates a brand new life.
She has to put her priorities in line.
Then she has to find the time.
She will first take care of her husbands needs
And feed the baby in between.
Then wash the clothes-and make the beds
Sweep, mop and wash the dishes
And in between -feed the fishes.
She becomes a juggler of many hats.
Does not get a thank you or even a pat
She will continue this throughout her life
In hopes that maybe one day-she will hear her husband and
Children say.-we love you each and every day.
And no one can take that away.
This is what a mother is to me
And I will be thankful eternally.

poem by Louis Rams
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At Last

O mother, open the window wide
And let the daylight in;
The hills grow darker to my sight
And thoughts begin to swim.

And mother dear, take my young son,
(Since I was born of thee)
And care for all his little ways
And nurse him on thy knee.

And mother, wash my pale pale hands
And then bind up my feet;
My body may no longer rest
Out of its winding sheet.

And mother dear, take a sapling twig
And green grass newly mown,
And lay them on my empty bed
That my sorrow be not known.

And mother, find three berries red
And pluck them from the stalk,
And burn them at the first cockcrow
That my spirit may not walk.

And mother dear, break a willow wand,
And if the sap be even,
Then save it for sweet Robert’s sake
And he’ll know my soul’s in heaven.

And mother, when the big tears fall,
(And fall, God knows, they may)
Tell him I died of my great love
And my dying heart was gay.

And mother dear, when the sun has set
And the pale kirk grass waves,
Then carry me through the dim twilight
And hide me among the graves.

poem by Elizabeth Eleanor Siddal
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Song: XI

Mother, mother, do you not hear?
Mother, they come; there is news to tell!
– Give me your hands, my daughter dear:
'Tis but a ship that saileth well.

Mother dear, have a care, give heed!
–They go, my daughter, away they speed.
Mother, the danger is sore, alas!
– Child, my child, it will quickly pass.

Mother, mother, She draweth near!
– It is down in the harbour, daughter dear.
Mother, mother, She opens the door!
– Child, they go, to return no more.

Mother, She enters! I am afraid!
– Child, they now have the anchor weighed.
Mother, I hear Her speaking low.
– Child, my child, it is they that go.

Mother, She makes the stars go dark!
– Child, 'tis the sails of a shadowy bark.
Mother, She knocks at the casement still!
– Child, maybe it is fastened ill. . . .

Mother, mother, my sight grows dim. . . .
– Child, they sail for the open sea.
On every hand I can hear but Him. . . .
– O child, what is it, and who is He?

poem by Maurice Polydore-Marie-Bernard Maeterlinck
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Tees spoon

Hand is
Use for eat...
Ok...
Wash every time
At your's hands...
At every works...
Wash your's hands...
Clean...
with clean...
Wash And eat food...
Tell about your children
Today...
Wash hands
And eat...
You are lazy
Don't wash
Your hands...
Use tees spoon...!

poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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