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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Will You Get Out of My Kitchen
I have an abundance of what it is I've got.
Although you may not find this a benefit to your needs?
That depends to which end of your body...
What I offer feeds!
Your mind.
Your body.
And/or your soul.
And if it is not to your liking...
You have a choice to do as I do with it!
Taste it to see how it digests.
And if anything upsets...
Ignore it the next time!
But I am hoping the aroma teases.
However...
I'm still going to find a way,
For you to nibble on 'something'.
Since my attempts are only to please you.
Why do you think I would go through this...
And warn you I am after your taste buds!
With hopes even a whiff of it,
You can not resist!
'What on Earth are you whipping up now?
It smells good.
What is it? '
Will you get out of my kitchen!
I throw away much more than I present.
And 'if' I don't like it...
First!
What makes you think,
I would serve it to you?
To hunger with a thirst!
It is difficult to make 'everything' delicious.
Now beat it until I put all the ingredients together.
To watch you gobble this up and eat!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Get Out Of the Kitchen
Ready and hoping for that taste of cake,
After the last slice of it is gone?
To then express attitude,
With an announcement made...
Of how selfish everyone else is.
And at no time saying a thing,
When the cake was being baked?
Or mixed with all of the ingredients,
Put into it 'before' it was placed into the oven.
Nor mention did you one word,
About having a craving for a piece?
Until the last crumb of it,
Had been licked away!
And the aroma of it from the air has ceased.
Look here...
You have no right to point a finger,
At nobody, no time soon.
But you can take all the time you need,
To blame yourself.
I will be your witness if you seek one.
No one here,
Is living to be your personal mind reader!
Let me make that clear...
No ONE here, H with an E-R-E,
Has been assigned to be your personal mind reader.
Take the first step you can away from yourself.
Not to make mental notes or excuses to abuse anyone.
But to open your mouth and declare what it is you wish.
No one is obligated to do that for you but yourself!
Now get out of the kitchen.
You are about to get me heated.
And you don't have it like that.
Not in my home.
You were offered a piece and said nothing.
Do you remember that?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Difficult To Relate To This Concept
It takes know-how with specifics,
To create a delicious cake.
And only those experienced,
Know what it takes.
First a mixture of ingredients is needed,
With a whipping up of batter,
Allowing the cake to bake for taste.
Ultimately satisfying the anticipation.
However there are those impatient and can not wait,
Who find it difficult to relate to this concept.
And they are the ones who refuse to comprehend...
That the oven has to be heated,
BEFORE the cake goes in.
'So...
Why are all the people protesting outside? '
They are the ones who have decided,
The baker should be replaced.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Makes Me Hot
When we are together,
And our eyes focus...
Not to blink nonstop.
This makes me hot.
When you are not there,
And the telephone rings.
Your voice brings me joy,
And 'whatever' you say...
Makes my heart begin to sing.
This makes me hot.
And unbearable is the thought,
Of us touching in a naked embrace.
Your face against mine...
And those 'sounds',
Between us made.
Oh...
This makes me hot.
I can not think of an us,
Without you in my view.
I can not be alone for a single moment,
Without imagining us together...
And those things we choose to do.
This makes me hot.
When we are together,
And our eyes focus...
Not to blink nonstop.
This makes me hot.
With the blending of the right ingredients,
To be stirred in one sizzling pot.
And the after taste of this,
Stays on my lips.
You and I know what we've got.
And this...
Heated mix,
Is an appetite I crave and miss.
Without 'you' near...
It seems I can not handle it.
This chemistry between you and me,
Means a lot!
Especially when both of us,
Can not hide what we've got.
Oh yes it is deep.
And extremely hot.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spreading Haddock
First pre-heat the oven at 350degrees.
Take approximately 3lbs of fresh haddock,
Season it..
With a compound seasoning of salt
Oregano, pepper/red pepper, garlic powder,
Onion powder, and celery salt.
Gently rub these ingredients into the awaiting haddock!
One baking dish is needed.
Pour one full cup of water/maybe more into dish.
Sprinkle Basil onto the water. YES...B-A-S-I-L.!
Lay that haddock down.
If you have bread crumbs...
Now is the opportunity to crumb this haddock!
Get a stick of butter.
Slice thin butter slices...
And place them on that haddock.
Final touch before slipping this into the oven...
Toss some parsley...on the haddock!
Cover with aluminum foil.
Place this dish into the over for about 30mins!
Next!
Romaine makes the beginnings of a good salad!
Get some fresh Romaine. Wash it.
Get a platter and chop this thing up!
Tomatoes? Fresh? Get 'em! Dice 'em if you wanna!
One large Vadalia Onion. One Green Pepper.
And one jar of Roasted Peppers.
Slice this mess up into a mix.
Yes...
Of course,
Put it on the platter. Remember? Presentation!
There's never been a time for haddock,
As it's time for haddock now!
It should be caressing the kitchen...
And your taste buds by now!
Take it out of the oven.
Let it cool for about 10-15 minutes!
Look at that platter!
Now look at that haddock!
Put that haddock on top of those lucious vegetables!
Take some virgin oil! Yes...make it 'virgin'.
At this point you just want a hint of oil.
NOW...
If you really are serious about your taste buds...
A mix of vinegar/white zinfandel/olive oil,
Is a nice topping!
When you want to do something for yourself...
Spreading Haddock is recommended!
There's nothing like it!
'How many does it feed? '
Why? You're not getting none of this!
That's why I went through the trouble
Of telling you how to make it!
How many does it feed?
One!
Me...Sorry 'bout that!
But this is a meal for the 'survivors! '
LOL...just joking! Have some!
Note: This is my own creation! 'Yes. You have my permission
to use it and treat yourself. You're gonna love it! '
Spreading Haddock...LOL
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A bad review is like baking a cake with all the best ingredients and having someone sit on it.
quote by Danielle Steel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Redefine A Re-alignment Of Things
To redefine a re-alignment of things to come,
To do to get done with a fresh outlook...
That appears to be organized and knowledgeable,
Is to know how to bake a cake from scratch.
But the itch to do that and deliver an accepting taste,
Seems not to be of benefit and too much of a waste...
For those who wish to lead with grandma's old recipes.
And with outdated sentiments too stale but used.
Even they are trying to find sense to make...
In times when the eating of cake,
Can not be faked...
For those demanding what has been promised,
From those making promises who have never been honest.
As an unbelievable heat increases in the kitchen.
And although they are dressed to make impressions,
No one knows a thing about the use of an oven or stove.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kissing Power
Kisses upon kisses
Teases upon teases
Certain madness fills the air
It is termed as love I fear
Kisses upon kisses
Teases upon teases
Touches upon touches
My hearts broken pieces
Are once again at peace
Kisses upon kisses
Teases upon teases
Touches upon touches
Flattery upon Flattery
Love always sparkles without batteries
Lips upon lips
First a taste of your tongues tip
Admiration induces exploration
While love ignites imagination
I can feel your kissing power
And the sensational effect it showers
I can feel your kissing power
As you handle me like a delicate flower
Week legs
Pleasure begs
I can feel your kissing power
While you kiss me by the hour
Don't stop!
Be my hero not my flop!
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Free Me From Your Teases, Please
Free me from your teases, please.
No longer can I hide inside,
That exposed exterior side I show.
You are chipping away at it.
And I'm noticing how I can not resist.
Something you do keeps me anticipating...
A boost of the 'giddy'
That begins to reveal my insecurities.
Stop it and dropp this teasing done to me!
Free me from your teases, please.
You make me uncomfortable.
And I know this you can see.
I can not look you straight in your eyes.
You're doing something to me,
And I am caught by surprise.
Why have you picked me to do this to?
I am not a piece of putty,
Or wish to you to be glued!
Free me from your teases, please.
I will not be your next choice,
To play the fool for you.
Unless you give me a sign or a clue...
You are serious to pursue,
The depths of my lust!
And how you and I can keep that thrusting!
On a daily basis with touches we trust...
Belong to just us!
I can be discreetly sleazy.
Expect that to please...
And end your teases to meet your needs.
I can and will deliver.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God Is A Chef
There is a sign in heaven's kitchen,
That says enter at your own risk,
Be mindful of the lichen,
And the low flying whisk!
No idea what they are baking,
But following the recipe,
This is what they are making,
I wonder what it could be?
Start with 5oz of enthusiasm,
Knead cheer in the dough,
Then heat some sincerity,
For that golden glow.
Marinade in courtesy,
Grind some inspiration,
Pepper it over the top,
With gusto and dedication.
Take a pinch of wisdom,
Add a lot of tender care,
Sprinkle it with love,
And spread it everywhere.
Add a dash of beauty,
Mixed with a warm smile,
Garnish with humour,
Keep us grinning all the while.
Put in a spoonful of charisma,
Finish with a heart of gold,
This is one special recipe,
Baked with virtue extolled.
So what has been made?
No ordinary strawberry fool,
But a delicate dish,
That makes everyone drool!
Taken fresh out of the oven,
We find a fluffy fondue,
As all these ingredients,
Have created a wonderful you!
poem by Dale Mullock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Deserving 'Yummy' Or a Trace of Yum-Yum Laced
I will be very brief with this.
There is no 'yum'
That comes...
Without a taste for it!
And no deserving 'yummy'.
Or a trace of yum-yum laced.
If my tongue is not satisfied...
The expression in my eyes,
Will not lie.
And remember...
We did just say grace.
And I do appreciate,
Whatever this is you put on my plate!
However...
If my lips are not split,
To bare teeth not gritting.
I am either seeking to spit!
Or trying to find the words...
To encourage another visit.
But let me help you next time.
I'll do the cooking...
While you prepare the cheese and wine.
Basically I like you!
But not everything done you do!
What is it you are calling this?
'Love at Less The Task'
I see.
And if I should suggest 'Aftermath'...
Will you speak to me again?
It's not a total disaster.
We still have lots of wine!
Honey?
You did turn on the oven,
Right?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Seen Trickin
Seen trickin'.
There is no secret..
Trickin' people are seen.
Because of the economy,
People feel that trickin'...
Is what they today must do,
To pull themselves through.
With a new definition of desperation...
Deliberate even though it demeans.
Every dime they had save for that rainy day,
Seem to have been raided...
By those masquerading,
To say they represent the coming of better days.
Trickin'.
Some just to eat.
They keep on trickin'...
With a losing battle to protect their dignities.
And no longer lost to find a reason in their minds...
How what they do others may define.
They know they no longer lick that finger lickin' chicken.
Nor dip in catsup those french fries yummy good...
To fatten rubbing thighs and lieing about those diets tried.
No longer are these tricks fixin'...
That roast that sits cooling in the kitchen.
Or that oven baked cake,
Grandma used to make.
These folks are trickin'.
Males, females, shemales and 'its'.
Trickin'...
And hustling up profits made to their benefit.
Attempting to keep that lifestyle from a slip to a slide,
Quicker than it is.
Folks don't care about who sees them trick.
Folks care more about keeping up their habits!
Seen trickin'.
There is no secret..
Trickin' people are seen.
Because of the economy,
People feel that trickin'...
Is what they today must do,
To pull themselves through.
With a new definition of desperation...
Deliberate even though it demeans.
Seen trickin' although it sickens them!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Make yourself at home for Friend Thad
I keep stored in my library
a treasury of poetry.
These riches I’m prepared to share
with anyone who visits there.
They’re sure to find something to please
somewhere in my anthologies.
They’ll find great poets from the past.
Whose golden words were writ to last.
Philosophy and high romance
or choose at a random take a chance.
They’ll find more formal verse than free
but I think I can guarantee.
Theres something there to suit your taste
just take your time no need for haste.
If your inspired and wish to write
the desk is placed to catch the light.
The only rule you must obey
is do not take my books away.
Through hard experience I have learned
that borrowed books are not returned.
If you should choose to visit me
you’ll find me in my library.
That’s where I spend most of my time
composing metred verse in rhyme.
22-Mar-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Roll Up Your Sleeves
You'd like to realize your dreams.
And you seek from me and others,
'Sound' advice you wish to uncover.
Take your eyes off the prize.
Try to think of it as icing on a cake,
You have yet to bake with lessons learned...
As if you want the reputation of a chef,
Not just a cook.
Roll up your sleeves.
Become familiar,
With 'everything' in the kitchen you need.
And prepare to live your life,
Totally devoted...
To delivering each meal spiced,
With 'all' ingredients that are liked.
Become fast friends with sacrifice.
And...
MAYBE 'then',
With a 'perhaps' attached...
What you dream will be recognized,
As something 'you' alone will be proud to achieve.
With a sweating done...
Some believe others for them,
Should do!
If you can go through that...
And survive!
Those dreams perceived will come true for you!
But first...
Roll up your sleeves.
And prepare to accept rejection!
If you're in it to win it...
You will whistle as you clean toilet bowls.
That's the magic of success!
Doing something you would never accept...
Or expect that you would do.
But you will do it to get what 'you' want done!
And don't be afraid to feel a bit gloomy,
When using a broom to sweep up a room.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Rhyming Flu
It’s 1: 15 A.M.
I’m sitting here in bed;
I want to go to sleep,
But rhymes are in my head.
I just came upstairs;
I was just on the com,
Working out a poem;
For Ainaa to recite in the morn.
The problem with rhyme and I;
Is that it starts and never stops,
Remember it’s one o’clock;
But rhymes still pulse my thoughts.
So I’m writing this very rhyme;
Hoping my rhyme runs out,
But such a hope’s impossible;
When my rhymes are as abundant as trout.
I know what you all are thinking:
“This rhyme is simply a gimmick;
This boy’s not really sleepy,
He’s wide awake with this limerick.”
“This story of sleep is really;
Just some tricky plot,
To make you think he flows out rhyme;
Like water from a cracked pot.”
But, nay, it is true;
I’ve got the rhyming flu,
I’m hoping that by writing this rhyme;
All my rhymes shall be through.
Aha, I know the cure;
The medicine’s no longer obscure!
To end this awful rhyme;
I need a word that does NOT rhyme!
I’ve heard of the word before;
It’s like English’s Achilles heel,
No matter how hard you rhyme;
Its un-rhyming-ness is an iron veil.
Touché now rhyming flu;
This word I give to you!
Try rhyming the word ‘month’
…Ha-ha, you can’t now, can you! ?
The rhyming flu has left me…
I can feel it leaving my mind…
Ahhh… I am so relieved…
The clock says it’s now sleepy time...
…zZzZZZ
poem by Warren Chan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Riddles And Riddles And More Riddles
the riddles are not getting rid of me
and they keep on multiplying riddles and riddles and riddles
without a hint as to the answer
but i am not at all surprised or frightened or eager to answer each
mystery, i am relaxed and comforted to the idea of
myself:
i am a question without an answer.
everyday i grow and i know not where these tendrils are anchoring themselves.
i go where the wind hushes where i think i may feel better.
i put my feet on the ground and the ground moves like a planet orbiting
its own path within its unknown universe.
i breathe the air to live some days more but what is it that makes me alive?
i am not frightened anymore.
I get used to all these: i do not know. yes, i do not know. but
i am.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cleveland Rocks
(ian hunter)
Three! four!
Three! four!
Three! four!
(bunch of ah-ah-ahs here)
All this energy calling me
Back where it comes from
Its such a crude attitude
Its back where it belongs
All the little kids growing up on the skids are goin
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Jumpin (jean) gene genies, moody james deanies goin
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Mama knows but she dont care
Shes got her worries too
Seven kids and a phony affair
And the rent is due
All the little chicks with the crimson lips go
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Shes livinin sin with a safety pin
Shes goin cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
I got some records from world war two
Ill play em just like me grand dad do
He was a rocker and I am too
Oh cleveland rocks, yeah cleveland rocks
So find a place
Grab a space
And yell and scream for more
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
(bunch of ah-ah-ahs here)
Three! four!
Three! four!
Three! four!
Ohio
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Aspiring to greatness
Some choose to write by candlelight
and some compose straight on the screen.
Whichever way to you seems right,
that is the way it’s always been.
In days of yore you chose your quill,
made sure the ink was close to hand
Before your parchment you could fill,
then sprinkle it with silver sand.
A pencil is my chosen tool
I scribble quickly on my pad
and then transfer it as a rule
to my computer: I am glad
to see it appear on the screen.
Neatly displayed in black and white
the font I use shows crisp and clean
Then I will edit and put right
whatever errors I have made.
Correct the meter and the rhyme.
The final draft is then displayed
. Re editing does not waste time.
It is a task you must not shirk.
Though I’m afraid that many do
and thus do not present their work.
as perfectly as they ought to.
It is entirely up to you
to show that you are willing to
do everything that you can do
to prove you’re fit to join the few.
Whose poetry will still be read.
Like the great poets of the past
In years to come when you are dead.
Whose golden words were meant to last.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Doing the right thing.....
Sometimes it means giving in
When you know that nothing else matter
Sometimes it means needing to be quiet
When words can no longer deliver the message
Sometimes it means going separate ways
When things have gotten unbearable and hopeless
Sometimes it means turning away
When your presence will do more harm than good
Sometimes it means giving up your dreams
When you no longer have time to dream
Sometimes it means stop hoping
When there's nothing else to hope for
Sometimes it means giving up your reasons
When you know that they just don't fit
Sometimes it means masking your true feelings
When you know that you have to put up a face
Sometimes it means keeping the love within your heart
When you know that it can only bring pain.
poem by Malaya Bodlaver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Every Muscle Has a Purpose
Long before you decided,
To gather the nerve to taste...
I had been in preparation.
Long before you knew this brew I cooked,
Existed!
The seeds of my ingredients were being nurtured,
To implant in minds...
Needing a boost with a quick lift.
And as you observe this,
For structure to compare...
My skills and talents.
To categorize,
And place them somewhere.
To eventually declare what I prepare,
To be free of content!
Let me say this,
If you didn't get it...
If the aroma doesn't capture your interest...
You will never comprehend the intent.
Every muscle has a purpose!
Every jesture is connected to meaning!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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