Related quotes: 'my pot of love for...

Red Hot Curry

'my pot of love for you, here it is, '
mom tells daughter, 'thick and savoury
as the suntan, reddish hot as chillies,
appetising as turmeric, jintan,
a million spices, ginger, garlic
and tangy as this piece of spring chicken'

she stirs the curry and daugher sees
a thick volcanic red fragrant oil
churns in the potpourri of wonders

'And that is my love for you. Come
storm, come shine, come rain, i will
be there to make sure you are
at your best.. a pot of irresistible
curry.'

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mr Curry Delight

Yum, yummy
O! My tummy
Mr. Curry Delight

Now I fight
For my right
Mouthwatering tasty dishes
Incredible vegetable species
O! Mr. Chef
Mr. Curry Delight
Yum, Yummy
Hear my tummy
Common hurry!
Or be sorry

Hmmm, what’s cooking?
Aromatic spices stewing
Spinach & vegetable brewing
In bucolic style
Chopped onions & tomatoes
Anything edible goes
With the flow
Spicy chicken tandoori
Worth the calories

Yum, Yummy
O! My tummy
O! Mr Curry Delight
This curry sauce
Deserves an applause!

poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flaming Dragon Curry

On the menu, I spotted Flaming Dragon Curry,
But, to try this dish, I am in no particular hurry;
It has onions, red peppers, and chicken (diced) ,
Steeped in seasoning, herbs, and Indian spice.

I'd probably be sitting there with streaming eyes:
For me to try this dish, I think, would not be wise.
As well as watery eyes, my mouth would be on fire;
Neither of which is a sensation I particularly desire.

Five red chillies indicated it was the hottest dish there;
Certainly way too hot for my taste-buds to ever bear.
I consider that this curry is only for the very brave;
It is certainly not a dish that I would ever crave.

poem by Angela Wybrow
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Agony

And in spoonful oil
Kitchen is busy frying
Mustard and lentils two tablespoons each
And chillies hundred grams
And a pack of cigar or raw tobacco
In added two tablespoons of oil
Then to grind with lemon size tamarind, salt
To make tobacco chutney

And the water soaked tobacco
Kitchen is busy grinding
With salt and cashews handful
To make balls, be deep fried in oil
Be added to a masala tomato puree
To make tobacco kofta curry

And to the cooked rice
Kitchen is busy seasoning
With fried clove, cardamom, and cinnamon
Onion and ginger-garlic paste, salt
Sauted well with flavoured tobacco
Then to garnish with cut cigar pieces
To make tobacco biryani

Tobacco chutney, tobacco curry
Tobacco biryani..what next..
Forgotten Kitchen hurrying
To make more koftas
Be put in sugar syrup
To make tobacco jamuns

Then you see, exhausted Kitchen
Under the wildly running fan rests
Wildly coughing out
Her heart despite its rapidness
Awaiting patiently her lover
Who's been chained to her delicious cooking

poem by Indira Renganathan
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Feelings: Well Worth It

Feeling bad for
chocolate and sweets
and all things
nice, but curry?

not worth pain
for a taste mundane -
you wanted curry
it's not reasonable

to inflict it on me
knowing the sequel; I
can’t eat it, and now
the pills don’t work

I’m stuck in pain,
should you make curry
again, I’ll settle
for a big Chocolate cake

and then when I
die inside,
it will be
Well Worth It!

poem by Margaret Alice
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Bone Less

Bone less
Hen...
Making
For fast food
Shop...

Bone's are
Moving for
soup...

Taste with
Masala..

Nise for hen
Curry
Bite the teeth...

Tasted toung
Taste is fine...

The hen was
Hunted
Dead body
Of hen for
Bone less curry;

Tasted fast
Mani more
Its hen dead body...! !

But -
Bone less curry...? !

poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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The Spices

Of the spices of life,
Of the spices of love,
Of the spices of peace,
Of the spices of my mind,
Life in Africa maters to me lot.
Of Black Cumin,
Of Red Peppercorns,
Of Black Mustard,
Of Cayenne Pepper,
Of White Mustard,
Of Mixed Peppercorns,
Of Mahaleb Cherry,
Of Szechuan pepper,
Almost everybody is with a mobile phone in Africa!
But strong alcohol are consumed daily by the majority unemployed.
In Africa,
My mind sits and writes;
Because, life in Africa matters to me a lot.
Of Coriander, Ground Ginger, Fenugreek, Turmeric and Paprika!
Like the struggles daily in Africa for a survival;
But one day, we will get there.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Debbie had to get up and slice me a thick piece of cake before she could answer. And I do mean thick. Harry Potter volume seven thick. I could have knocked out a burglar with this piece of cake. Once I tasted it, though, it seemed just the right size.

Maureen Johnson in Let It Snow (2012)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Ode To Orange Chgicken

Orange chicken, oh orange chicken,
how much I love you.

You're sweet, sticky, and tangy, all at the same time,
you go great wi th soy sauce, but never with lime.

ode to orange chicken, which I love to devour,
it's been in my mouth so often, it knows that i have power.

It knows the names of my taste buds, Jill, Lil, and Bill,
sometimes the orange chicken is happy, but sometimes it's held against it's will.

Whenever I eat orange chicken, it goes CRUNCH, CRUNCH,
and I have to have chow mein, and that goes MUCH, MUNCH!

Ode to orange chicken, it is always in a bowl,
but did I mention, i also love eggrolls.

poem by Aubrey Harmel
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Skating Away

Really don't mind if you sit this one out.
My words but a whisper -- your deafness a SHOUT.
I may make you feel but I can't make you think.
Your sperm's in the gutter -- your love's in the sink.
So you ride yourselves over the fields and
you make all your animal deals and
your wise men don't know how it feels to be thick as a brick.
And the sand-castle virtues are all swept away in
the tidal destruction
the moral melee.
The elastic retreat rings the close of play as the last wave uncovers
the newfangled way.
But your new shoes are worn at the heels and
your suntan does rapidly peel and
your wise men don't know how it feels to be thick as a brick.
And the love that I feel is so far away:
I'm a bad dream that I just had today -- and you
shake your head and
say it's a shame.
Spin me back down the years and the days of my youth.
Draw the lace and black curtains and shut out the whole truth.
Spin me down the long ages: let them sing the song.

song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Favourite Food

Here are some meals, which I really love to eat,
When, at the dinner table, I take my seat.

Lasagne served with a slice of garlic bread,
Is one of my real favourites, it has to be said.
Chunky chips and a tender gammon steak –
A really lovely meal for me, this would make.
Chilli con carne, served with pilau rice,
I also consider to be really rather nice.

A deep pan pizza, especially chicken supreme,
Is guaranteed to set my hungry eyes agleam.
Chicken of any kind, especially southern fried,
Is always a big hit with me, it can’t be denied.
Another of my favourites, is all-day brunch –
On this popular dish, I very often munch.

Britain’s favourite dish, bangers and mash,
I’m always extremely willing to give a bash.
Given lashings of sausage casserole,
I’m guaranteed to scrape my bowl.
I simply love a really good Indian curry,
And will gobble one up in quite a hurry.

The thought of a delicious mixed grill,
Always gives me such a real thrill.
And lovely, tender lamb chops,
For me, are pretty hard to top.
But, cooked to perfection, a Sunday roast,
Is the meal that I really love the most!

So, now here’s a selection of puds,
Which I consider to really rather good.
All of these are lovely and sweet,
And always go down an absolute treat!

At the offer of any fruit crumble,
You will never hear me grumble.
In a slice of gooey, chocolate fudge cake,
I’m always more than happy to partake.
And luscious, creamy tiramisu,
Is one of my favourites to.

A scoop of any flavour of ice cream,
Always goes down an absolute dream.
Offered a bowl of thick, creamy rice,
I wouldn’t need to be asked twice.
Of puddings with lashings of jam,
I’ve always been a particular fan.

At the sight of a fresh strawberry trifle,
My excitement, I have to try and stifle.
A slice of lemon meringue pie,
You will never see me pass by.
I adore hot, sticky, gooey, treacle tart,
It’s a pud which always warms my heart.

Chocolate, cream filled, profiteroles,
Are always guaranteed to fill a hole.
A toffee nut sundae, served in a tall glass,
Is a sweet which I consider to be pure class.
A pastry pie, with any fresh fruit filling,
For me, has always been rather thrilling.

If I was served up any of these, I’d be thrilled,
Even if I was sat right in the middle of a field!

poem by Angela Wybrow
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A - 10t

A Thinker Tells
That The Tall Teacher
Take The Thick Thoughts.

A Trainer Tells
That The Tall Teacher
Take The Thick Training.

A Teacher Teaches
The Trainer'n The Thinker,
Take The Thick Teaching!

poem by Riki Duana Putra
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Need Her Love

She gives me love that I could never hope to have,
She tells me that she needs me,she tells me that shes glad,
And if she goes away, Im like someone whos left out in the rain,
I need, I need her, I need her love.
She came in from the west, a summer breeze I couldnt rest,
I had to take a fast train, to be there by her side,
She made me feel so good, she made it like it should be all the time
I need, I need her, I need her love.
Just when I was thinkin of her, she came along and made me
Want her. I need her love, I need her love, I need her love.
If she goes away, Im like someone whos left out in the rain,
I need, I need her, I need her love.
The boats that sail, the planes that fly,she is with me.
I wonder if she wonders, if this is all for real,
I couldnt stand to see her cry because of me, that would be sad.
I need, I need her, I need her love.
She tells me everything, she makes me smile, she tries to sing,
But never shares her suffering, if things are going wrong,
She makes it like a dream, if things are as they seem the
World is good. I need her love, I need her love, I need her love.

song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Weather Report

When
the weatherman
tells
you
it might rain
it might not rain
He says
the sun will shine
but it might as well not shine
There is
a probability
he says
Too many variables
involved
When
he says
there is
a thunderstorm
You're pretty
sure
about a storm
somewhere
But just look
out your window
to make
sure
it is there
What good
is
a weather report
if you have to see
for yourself?
It's better not
to walk out your door
If you depend
on the weather
out there

poem by Cesar Nascimento
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