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
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Related quotes
Soup Of The Day
Well she thinks shes looking so cool
She thinks shes great but shes just a fool
What awful lack of class makes this kind behave this way
I look and only think of one thing to say
Soup, shes just soup
Soup of the day
Shes thin around the waistline
Thin around the brain
You see this type so many times
Time and time again
How could they really think
Theyd be treated in any other way
Everybodys looking and everybody say
Soup, shes just soup
Soup of the day
Well youd think theyd know better
That behaving in this way
They think theyre being clever
But I really have to say
Youd better think it over
Youll regret it one fine day
When the circus partys over
And you were just soup of the day
Shes just soup
Soup of the day
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Preparing Dinner
I watch the pot on the stove
Water is overspilling
The rice is cooking
With bubbles galore
I smother chicken in sauce
Sauce that is made up of green pepper, black pepper and onions
Accompanied with that is the All in one spice.
Watch out for the toilet paper
The spices start talking
The chicken gets fried
The smell of breyani echoes through the house
I chop the potatoes as well as the carrots
I open up McCain veggies
And distribute it with the food
I put more spices in and the McCain veggies
Gets assimilated into the food
The pot is filled with colours
The steam fills the house
The brown chicken starts talking to the yellow potatoes
So does the carrots
The rice is strained
It rises to the core
I use tastic rice
Because it is the best out of them all
I set the table with plates
And it is ready to be filled
One by one they get dished out
First the rice (centered) and then the potatoes and chicken
Ice cream is served as desert
Coca-Cola is poured into glasses
The sweet taste bubbles in my mouth
The hot food burns my mouth
While the cold drink soothes its pain
I smother tomatoes and onions with vinegar
And serve them next to the food
The sauce gives the tongue extra kick
And goes down with a good drink
poem by Lee John Siebritz
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Soup of day
She said severely:
“God have said: the soup must be warm! ”
It was a Gazpacho, a cold soup to a warm evening.
I have mixed tomatos, cucumbers,
red and green peppers,
red onions, a few garlics,
a few parsleys and coriander.
This soup had a beautiful colour: red and green! green and red!
It was cold, very cold, iced.
I have warmed up her soup
I have grilled also some scallops
with a pistachio dressing
she said:
“It is delightful mostly the orange and red parts.”
It was only a question of colours
I have dreamt at a blue gazpacho, blue scallops
Blue like the sea but the sea is never blue
and the blue is not a tasty colour.
Then we have recited some french poems
This evening was quiet and tender
despite the heat wave.
I like to remember this iced soup
and the awful warmth.
poem by Jean Francois Le Goff
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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
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I was wrong: So what. todays idiocy
I say that it’s impossible.
You cannot eat soup with chop sticks
Though it is highly probable.
Someone will try to prove he can.
To demonstrate his cleverness
and show he is a better man.
What will it prove should he succeed?
That I’m mistaken in my view.
I will be happy to concede
.
the victory to some buffoon.
Who can eat soup using chop sticks.
I still prefer to use a spoon.
I think soup should be eaten hot
I do not like cold soup a lot.
20/06/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Talk Soup
I dated siamese twins
I slept with bigfoot, too
Get me on sally jesse
Put me on donahue
cause I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
My dogs a narcoleptic
My moms a circus freak
I gotta get a spot on
Geraldos show this week
cause I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
Im just an anorexic codependant bingo addict
Stripper born without a chin
And Im only comfortable talking about it
When the whole wide world is listening in
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
My wife ran off with elvis
My boss shaved off my hair
Ive got a thing for poodles
And rubber underwear
And I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
I had a close encounter
I never chew my food
I got eleven nose jobs
I yodel in the nude
And I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
Im just a cross-dressin alcoholic neo-nazi
Porno star, as you may have guessed
And Im really gonna feel a whole lot better
If you let me get this thing off my chest
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Im just your average schizophrenic nymphomaniac
Albino go-go dancer, you see
Nothin so bad that I cant share it
With a billion friends on national tv, whoa...
I have no genitalia
I sold my kids for cheese
I love my blow up doll, so
Bring out those cameras, please
cause I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Better Spice This With Brown Sugar
Last night...
I whipped up something,
To quench my appetite.
I diced onions and green peppers.
With tomatoes,
Broccoli and carrots too!
Knowing this would be liked.
I added red cabbage, potatos...
Dashed with salt and red pepper.
And other ingredients like curry...
To stimulate the brew.
'Something' said,
'You better spice this with brown sugar.'
So this I did do.
Then I next heated a frying pan.
From slow to medium.
But not hot!
With vegetable oil, butter and a bit of soy.
And all of it simmered in an aromatic splender.
And I ate it.
EVERY drop.
It was great!
And,
I must admit this...
I did lick the plate.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Black Eye Pea Stew
Did I mention,
My black eye pea stew to you?
Well...
This is what you do.
Boil your water,
Add sliced smoked turkey butt.
With seasons you prefer.
I like to mix in olive oil with butter first.
Before adding apple vinegar...
With Old Bay and a bit of salt,
Then soy sauce...
To allow my taste buds to burst.
Add your black eye peas.
Speckled butter lima beans.
Kidney and black beans too!
I also enjoy cooking with onions...
Green peppers, carrots and celery.
For a flavored taste,
You simply can not refuse!
Well...
You can 'try' making attempts.
But licking your lips,
Is not too convincing of a defense.
'May I get some more? '
You sure can!
After I get to taste it myself!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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There’s something in the rain
There’s something in the rain
that makes my plants jump
and there are beans
growing in a row in stools
and tomatoes that stand around in small bushes
and beetroot everywhere
and there are carrots
growing between the other vegetables
and onions pushing out fingers
like grasses,
but the spinach
fills the whole place
and at the end of the garden
there’s parsley coming out in places.
At times I wonder if the Creator
is also as happy and excited
about His earth
and if everything
makes a impact in his heart
and I see the wonders
of His magnificent works
in the world around me.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Dark Shadows.
the pepper pot
towards the nun
on her right.
The salt follows
once more given
a gentle shove.
To understand
another’s need
without them asking,
an elderly nun
had said.
A nun is reading
from a high desk
in the refectory.
Some book on Cromwell,
a life, back whenever when.
She sips her soup,
the French soup spoon
held in her right hand.
The nun on her left
passes the water jug.
Offers to pour.
Sister Felicity nods
and smiles.
The nun pours
a liberal amount
then puts down the jug.
Opposite an elderly nun
dribbles soup,
her shaky hand
missing the target.
Nan did that.
How can one forget?
She remembers
her grandmother’s
slow decline;
the slippery slope
down to the side ward
in the dank hospital.
Onion soup. Too hot.
She blows to cool.
Sunlight reaches down
through high windows.
Worlds explode
in dark shadows.
poem by Terry Collett
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Sky Seasoning
A piece of sky
Broke off and fell
Through the crack in the ceiling
Right into my soup,
KERPLOP!
I really must state
That I usually hate
Lentil soup, but I ate
Every drop!
Delicious delicious
(A bit like plaster),
But so delicious, goodness sake--
I could have eaten a lentil-soup lake.
It's amazing the difference
A bit of sky can make.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Veggie Poetry
steamed okra
round, red, shiny tomatoes
violet onion, some white spring ones
and hot chili
with black pepper
some olive oil
and rosemary herbs for flavoring
a little salt
a little sugar
suit to your exquisite, exotic asian taste
add some more other
herbs and hot spices
mix them in a bowl
shed some tears
for summer salt
add some green lettuce
and black olives
and pickles to taste
pick some
then chew
do not swallow yet
take your time
enjoy your veggie poetry
do not take any meat
or poultry
now take your time alone
eat
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When I was a young man, I had a mentor on women and he said when you meet a woman that you think you like, don't ask her for a drink. Take her out for a bowl of soup. Because a woman who can enjoy a bowl of soup is bound to be more interesting.
quote by Art Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Winter Started In May
With winter starting in May
you stir lentil soup around and around,
looking like the most beautiful housewife
while I am astounded by the odours of that meal.
When your lips find mine,
we are for long moments blinded to the world
and the soup almost boils over,
while a strong wind is rattling the windows.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A man who touches the bottom of a soup plate with a ball of foofoo is no longer searching for soup.
One spoon of soup in need has more value than a pot of soup when we have an abundance of food.
Loving Cup
I'm the man on the mountain, come on up
I'm the plowman in the valley with a face full of mud
Yes, I'm fumbling and I know my car don't start
Yes, I'm stumbling and I know I play a bad guitar
Give me little drink from your loving cup
Just one drink and I'll fall down drunk
I'm the man who walks the hillside in the sweet summer sun
I'm the man that brings you roses when you ain't got none
Well, I can run and jump and fish, but I won't fight
You if you want to push and pull with me all night
Give me little drink from your loving cup
Just one drink and I'll fall down drunk
I feel so humble with you tonight,
just sitting in front of the fire
See your face dancing in the flame,
feel your mouth kissing me again
What a beautiful buzz,
what a beautiful buzz
What a beautiful buzz,
what a beautiful buzz
Oh, what a beautiful buzz,
what a beautiful buzz
Yes I am nitty gritty and my shirt's all torn
But I would love to spill the beans with you till dawn
Give me little drink from your loving cup
Just one drink and I'll fall down drunk
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Supper
The supper of the red soup came with love,
And Veh came along with Xeh as the next door neighbours;
But Beh was my friend on the supper of the red soup,
And i will take Beh back home on this love.
The pictures of my mind brought up wonderful colours,
And of the muse of the red soup so enjoyed last night;
But i will take Beh back home to embrace my love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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When a baby comes you can smell two things: the smell of flesh, which smells like chicken soup, and the smell of lilies, the flower of another garden, the spiritual garden.
quote by Carlos Santana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black Cold Coffee
Captain midnight and Captain cruise
out on the ocean
like a storm of bad news
it took three monkeys in a plastic mac
to fit inside a paper sack
And they're cooking up an alibi
cooking up some steam
out in the madness
somewhere in Orleans
they had a plan,
they had a plot
beggars and blues was all they got
Black cold coffee
black Irish soup
cold on a silver spoon
she's dancing through hoops
Baby's wishing on a wishing well
she's moving up
and ringing her bell
can't fly to heaven
on a persian rug
so put some coins in the old sailor mug
They travelled up together
from the coast
east of Aldgate
silently like ghosts
they had a scam,
they had a scheme
for drunks and bums counting beans
Black cold coffee
black Irish soup
cold on a silver spoon
she's dancing through hoops
Solo
Black cold coffee
black Irish soup
cold on a silver spoon
she's dancing through hoops
song performed by by Ufo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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