A Cook
They had a cook with them who stood alone
For boiling chicken with a marrow-bone,
Sharp flavouring powder and a spice for savour.
He could distinguish London ale by flavour,
And he could roast and boil and seethe and fry,
Make good thick soup and bake a tasty pie...
As for blancmange, he made it with the best.
poem by Geoffrey Chaucer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Chicken Lips And Lizard Hips
When i was a little kid
I never liked to eat
Mom would put things on my plate
And i'd dump 'em on her feet
But then one day she made this soup
I ate it all in bed
I asked her what she put in it
And this is what she said:
"oh, chicken lips and lizard hips
And alligator eyes
Monkey legs and buzzard eggs
And salamander thighs
Rabbit ears and camel rears
And tasty toenail pies
Stir 'em all together
And it's mama's soup surprise"
I went into the bathroom
And i stood beside the sink
I said, "i'm feeling slightly ill
And i think i'd like a drink"
Mama said, "i've just the thing
I'll get it in a wink
It's full of lots of protein
And vitamins, i think"
"oh, chicken lips and lizard hips
And alligator eyes
Monkey legs and buzzard eggs
And salamander thighs
Rabbit ears and camel rears
And tasty toenail pies
Stir 'em all together
And it's mama's soup surprise
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
An Epicure
Should you preserve white mice in honey
Don't use imported ones from China,
For though they cost you less in money
You'll find the Japanese ones finer.
But if Chinese, stuff them with spice,
Which certainly improves their savour,
And though the Canton mice are nice,
The Pekinese have finer flavour.
If you should pickle bracken shoots
The way the wily Japanese do,
Be sure to pluck then young - what suits
Our Eastern taste may fail to please you.
And as for nettles, cook them well;
To eat them raw may give you skin-itch;
But if you boil them for a spell
They taste almost as good as spinach.
So Reader, if you chance to be
Of Oriental food a lover,
And care to share a meal with me,
I'll add the addled eggs of plover;
And gaily I will welcome you
To lunch within an arbour sunny,
On nettle broth and bracken stew.
And nice white mice, conserved in honey.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
You cook vegetable soup
You cook vegetable soup
and I look at you
while you cut green beans,
carrots, onions, celery, parsley
and tomatoes into two pots.
There are herbs, spices
and pepper that you are scattering
and two types of soup powder
that you throw in
and the pots steam and buzz
while I am washing the dishes
and the smell
makes me hungry
and I wonder
if the soup
are going to taste as good
as it smells.
We drink tee
and there’s medicine
that you give for flu
to me
and it’s great
to be with you
to read the look
in your beautiful eyes.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Panacea
Panacea for the worlds ills.
Chicken soup in America.
'Mr President, the twin-towers
were destroyed by el caida terrorists.'
The President replies:
'You wouldn't have any chicken soup
on you, would you? '
A cup of tea in England.
'Prime Minister, the nazis have bombed
the shyte out of London.'
Prime Minister replies:
'Bastards, we'd better have a cup of tea
and think about this.'
poem by Jerry Hughes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Miss World 2012
Ni Hao, come into my kitchen
Boiling in the kettle is soup
This broth is about to thicken
Made from the chicken of my coop
Miss India, be seated on first
Mexican lass second chair please
But could this order be reversed
Miss china comes first like a breeze
You are all my guest, so behave
What you get is what you deserve
Once you hold the ladle, do save
The best, for your own choice to serve.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Urban
the old crone
slurping up
essence of chicken
soup
as though
it were chicken soup
itself, mis
taking the hum in
her veins
for the ima
gined chicken’s part
ing gift
while
I know it to be
no more
than hot
water’s mo
mentary warming,
and how mo
mentary when even naked
flame would howl
and wiggle
an in
jured fing
er, frost
bitten, coming
too close
to the
waft of de
parting chill.
[From: How Do You Withstand, Body; Publisher: Clearing House, Mumbai, 1976]
poem by Gieve Patel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Beauty-Defined~
I can't remember tuna sanwiches
Ever tasting so good
Or chicken noodle soup, so tasty;
Must have always been the cook;
The company that i was blessed
To keep...
Back in the day when big-hearted
People were scarce;
When their smiles and uplifting
Words raised me up out of the
Dodrums of sad and confused;
She was like that you know-my Joyce...
A ray of blessed sunshine in the
Cold Seattle rain; And her laughter-
Her laughter was contagious-
And even after all of these years
I can still remember it! ;
What a gift she was-
A best friend, confidant and an
Angel in disguise;
Today, i find myself hungry for
Those tuna sandwich days...
And her sweet smile that would
Warm and assure the saddest and
Most confused of hearts;
I Miss you Joyce
And i love you.
July 12,2012
By: Theodora Onken
Dedicated to: Joyce Storms
1946-2005
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Deep Seas
Deep seas may strike and deliver the praise
Of a monstrous sea, boiling heat has occurred,
Boiling madness has elegantly travelled,
Boiling is the disorder of this monumental wave.
I am deep in thought over the abode in this soup,
The soup of peace and war, a sea so tranquil and hostile,
I would like to stay here forever, to erode the land with it,
Without me and without a mountain to collide with.
Dirty weather arouses suspicion from the waters,
Clean and clear is the river, rivers of ice are cold,
Rivers die and live forming foam from the dear sky,
This sky shall boldly try the patience of the rivers.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Save Me Darling
Why should it matter how I feel
This old romantic down at hill
Then again, if Id known the outcome, sure youd win.
Illusion shattered, made them real
A night of magic, fate is sealed
Ran amok, and you knocked my tiny world for six
It wouldnt have made the slightest , blindest bit of difference
All together now, lets hear us pray
Make it better now and savour the day
Im all over, save me darling!
I feel it deep down deep inside
Can not believe were still alive
That is good, cause I did not mean you harm, my love
We took a shot at masquerade
Came crashing down on loves parade
We were young, were so full of teen emotion then
We couldnt have made the slightest, blindest bit of difference
All together now, lets hear us pray
Make it better now and savour the day
Im all over, save me darling!
All together now, lets hear us pray
Make it better now and savour the day
Im all over, save me darling!
We couldnt have made the slightest, blindest bit of difference
All together
All together now, lets hear us pray
Make it better now and savour the day
Im all over, save me darling!
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Over A Crock Of Mixed Soup
If anything in the past,
Was given and meant to be long lasting...
Very few on the receiving end,
Would today be left to complain...
About their feelings of being used,
As they stood by just to take it!
And wherever one goes...
That same story is told as if to convince,
The giving done they did was unconditional.
Until a misunderstanding drifted between two,
With a decision made to split...
Over a crock of mixed soup allowed to burn.
'Perhaps there was too much salt...
And not enough pepper to heat up the spice.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Chicken With a Twist of Deliciousness
I bought thin breasts of sliced chicken.
Thinking I would make a chicken soup.
So I then cut the breasts,
Preparing to create a meal...
I believed would be the best.
When I had this thought...
Season and sauté the breast.
Simmer them quickly,
In olive oil next.
Add I did...
Broccoli, onions and green peppers.
With carrots and celery...
Thinking perhaps some cauliflower,
And Soy sauce too...
Was needed in this aromatic stew.
This I did.
Before I lowered the heat,
And covered this with the frying pan lid.
I said to myself...
This needed a touch of brown sugar.
A splash of apple vinegar,
And a dash of lemon for taste.
Mine,
Of course!
I'm suggesting this,
Before it is ready to plate.
I think this took twenty minutes to cook.
But the smell of it increased my appetite.
And I couldn't wait,
To devour each morsel.
Knowing I had cooked up something,
Bonafide to get me hooked!
Oh yes!
I've already named it,
Chicken With a Twist of Deliciousness!
If you want some,
You will have to make your own.
None of this I am eating,
Will a dropp of it you get!
Oh,
Before I forget.
Add some basil, dill, oregano and garlic too.
I like to use red pepper as well.
You can try that,
If you wish to lick the dish!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
London Boys
Cow bell strikes another night
Your eyes are heavy and your limbs all ache
You've bought some coffee, butter and bread
You can't make a thing cause the meter's dead
You moved away
Hold your folks you're gonna stay away
Bright lights, Soho, Wardour street
You hope you make friends with the guys that you meet
Somebody shows you round
Now you've met the London boys
Things seem good again, someone cares about you
Oh, the first time that you tried a pill
You feel a little queasy, decidedly ill
You're gonna be sick, but you mustn't lose faith
To let yourself down would be a big disgrace
With the London boys, with the London boys
You're only seventeen, but you think you've grown
In the month you've been away from your parents' home
You take the pills too much
You don't give a damn about that jobs you've got
So long as you're with the London boys
A London boy, oh a London boy
Your flashy clothes are your pride and joy
A London boy, a London boy
You think you've had a lot of fun
But you ain't got nothing, you're on the run
It's too late now, cause you're out there boy
You've got it made with the rest of the toys
Now you wish you'd never left your home
You've got what you wanted but you're on your own
With the London boys
Now you've met the London boys
Now you've met the London boys
Now you've met the London boys
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Banquet
Come to the dinner gong
The table is laden high
Fat bellies and hungry little ones
Tuck your napkins in
And take your share
Some get the gravy
And some get the gristle
Some get the marrow bone
And some get nothing
Though theres plenty to spare
I took my share down by the sea
Paper plates and javex bottles on the tide
Seagulls come down
And they squawk at me
Down where the water-skiers glide
Some turn to jesus
And some turn to heroin
Some turn to rambling round
Looking for a clean sky
And a drinking stream
Some watch the paint peel off
Some watch their kids grow up
Some watch their stocks and bonds
Waiting for that big deal
American dream
I took my dream down by the sea
Yankee yachts and lobster pots and sunshine
And logs and sails
And shell oil pails
Dogs and tugs and summertime
Back in the banquet line
Angry young people crying
Who let the greedy in
And who left the needy out
Who made this salty soup
Tell him were very hungry now
For a sweeter fare
In the cookie I read
Some get the gravy
And some get the gristle
Some get the marrow bone
And some get nothing
Though theres plenty to spare
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Into this pour the purified juice: and put it into a pan of water come almost to a boil and continue nearly in the state of boiling until the juice is found to be the consistency of a thick syrup when cold. It is then when cold, to be corked up in a bottle for use.
quote by James Lind
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Every year, nearly two-thirds of the approximately 200,000 patients in need of a bone marrow transplant will not find a marrow donor that matches within their families.
quote by Nathan Deal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Powder Blue
Powder blue, powder blue
What can ya do, shes powder blue
Powder blue, powder blue
What can ya do, shes powder blue
Ill be true (ba baa)
My powder blue (powder blue)
Its all for you (ba baa)
Its all for you
And ya know it
Powder blue, powder blue
The seventh sun of orion with me too
Oh powder blue, how do you do?
Come walk with me now, powder blue
Powder blue (ba baa)
Powder blue (powder blue)
Its all for you (ba baa)
Its all for you
And you can feel that
Powder blue, oh powder blue
Ive got this feeling, powder blue
Oh powder blue, powder blue
Its in my head for you
Ill be true (ba baa)
My powder blue (powder blue)
Its all for you (ba baa)
Its all for you
Bobby ogdin on the piano ... thanks, bobby
Mr. charlie mccoy, harmonica ... ah, charlie
Russ hicks, steel guitar...
And ladies & gentlemen, Id like to present: mohammed ali:
Everybody stop talking now, I tell ya....i told you, all of my critics, I told you all that I was the greatest of all time...
Now just listen...i told you today, Im still the greatest of all time...never again defeat me...never again say that Im going to be defeated...never again bet and make me an underdog, until i
Ut 50 years old. then you might get me. but I didnt dance, I didnt dance for a reason. I wanted to make him lose all his power, I kept tellin he had no punch, he couldnt hit, he swang like a
Y, hes missin, let me see you box, I hadnt start dancin yet! you cant say my legs are gone, you cant say I was tired, because what happened? I didnt dance from the second round on. I stay
The ropes. when I stay on the ropes, you think Im doin bad. but I want all boxers to put this in the page of boxing: staying on ropes is a beautiful thing with a heavyweight when you make him
T his best shot, and you know hes not hittin ya. I wouldve gave george foreman two rounds of steady punchin, because after that he was mine.
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Powder Blue
Powder blue, powder blue
What can ya do, shes powder blue
Powder blue, powder blue
What can ya do, shes powder blue
Ill be true (ba baa)
My powder blue (powder blue)
Its all for you (ba baa)
Its all for you
And ya know it
Powder blue, powder blue
The seventh sun of orion with me too
Oh powder blue, how do you do?
Come walk with me now, powder blue
Powder blue (ba baa)
Powder blue (powder blue)
Its all for you (ba baa)
Its all for you
And you can feel that
Powder blue, oh powder blue
Ive got this feeling, powder blue
Oh powder blue, powder blue
Its in my head for you
Ill be true (ba baa)
My powder blue (powder blue)
Its all for you (ba baa)
Its all for you
Bobby ogdin on the piano ... thanks, bobby
Mr. charlie mccoy, harmonica ... ah, charlie
Russ hicks, steel guitar...
And ladies & gentlemen, Id like to present: mohammed ali:
Everybody stop talking now, I tell ya....i told you, all of my critics, I told you all that I was the greatest of all time...
Now just listen...i told you today, Im still the greatest of all time...never again defeat me...never again say that Im going to be defeated...never again bet and make me an underdog, until i
Ut 50 years old. then you might get me. but I didnt dance, I didnt dance for a reason. I wanted to make him lose all his power, I kept tellin he had no punch, he couldnt hit, he swang like a
Y, hes missin, let me see you box, I hadnt start dancin yet! you cant say my legs are gone, you cant say I was tired, because what happened? I didnt dance from the second round on. I stay
The ropes. when I stay on the ropes, you think Im doin bad. but I want all boxers to put this in the page of boxing: staying on ropes is a beautiful thing with a heavyweight when you make him
T his best shot, and you know hes not hittin ya. I wouldve gave george foreman two rounds of steady punchin, because after that he was mine.
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Ballade 2
In Antwerp, Bruges, Ostend and Ghent
I used to order food with flair,
But in every inn to which I went
They always brought me, with my fare,
With every roast and mutton dish,
With boar, with rabbit, pigeon, bustard,
With fresh and with salt-water fish,
Always, never asking, mustard.
I ordered herring, said I'd like
Carp for supper at the bar,
And called for simple boiled pike,
And two large sole, when I ate at Spa.
I ordered green sauce when in Brussels;
The waiter stared and looked disgusted;
The bus boy brought in with my mussels
As always, never asking, mustard.
I couldn't eat or drink without it.
They add it to the water they
Boil the fish in and-don't doubt it-
The drippings from the roast each day
Are tossed into a mustard vat
In which they're mixed, and then entrusted
To those who bring-they're trained at that-
Always, never asking, mustard.
Prince, it's clear a spice like clove
can drop its guard. It won't be busted.
There's just one thing these people serve:
Always, never asking, mustard.
poem by Eustache Deschamps
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Chicken Soup
White haired and gay in London
with that determination born
of fleeing from Vienna
A Jew breaking up her life
Her echoing flat crammed
Zed-beds put-u-ups and bedding
in every room and corner Waiting
Visitors always Welcome Welcome
-
The gas and charnel-house
taking her family future
Remaining bones white-lining paths
Crunching underfoot like sea shells
-
A sister an extended cousin to put up
They stayed a while On breezes floated
one sailed to America
one - hollow-centred - to New Zealand
-
The cruise ship docking in Southampton
to a seventies rail strike Passengers travelling
no further home than London
filled every zed-bed put-u-up and sofa
Partied Welcome Welcome for three long days
Ghosts of Miriam and Hymie Solomon and little David
sharing chicken soup steaming up
hovering above each sleeping person
-
Wresting her body and faith
away from Jehovah's blank face
She put it into people Welcome Welcome
Smiling and laughing fifty years beyond Vienna
-
Ranked in Golder's Green Red brick
Crematorium number four bore the name Gretl
Replaced by someone else's twenty minutes later
Flocked friends remembered her Welcome Welcome
Returning to her home with chicken soup and laughter
22Jan1997 CPR
poem by Charlotte Peters Rock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!