Sautéed In Fiasco
Simmering and sautéed in fiasco,
This chef finds himself...
Blending a mix the patrons have nixed!
Overheated in a kitchen,
With a haste that loses taste.
And a flair that has been wasted,
On those baited to sip!
They split in droves...
And leave him this tip:
'This feast you prepared,
For us to eat...
Continues to sour
The air on the streets!
The menu was fabulous.
One we all thought we would like!
But you have shown you're a flapjack king...
With promises of pheasant to delight!
You offered us substance,
And we have waited too long for that!
Your skills are based on delusion...
Infusing hors d'oeuvres served in crap!
We can no longer wait for more,
We are sealing your doors...
With you entrapped!
Nothing you have done has pleased anyone.
We want our money back,
Before the others come...
And burn down your shack! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Hors d'oeuvres have always a pathetic interest for me; they remind me of one's childhood that one goes through wondering what the next course is going to be like - and during the rest of the menu one wishes one had eaten more of the hors d'oeuvres.
quote by Hector Hugh Munro
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fire!
Attached they are without curteousy...
A demand to strike when needed
Seems cursed.
Extinquishing sparks
From arched eyebrows of those heated.
Alliances threaten to leave before dessert is served.
The feast that began,
Begins to lose the enchantment...
With the splitting of nerves!
Conversations are overheard,
Of the host having fits!
Seating arrangements are disturbed...
As uninvited guests come to sit!
And the chef is in the kitchen,
Throwing up his hands!
The meal he prepared,
Has been spoiled by such demands.
A coup in Thailand?
And now Iran breaks down the door?
The feast is looking bleak!
And Iraq continues to crumble as a nation for sure!
While those who make announcements to split...
Witness fumes and rising smoke,
Pouring through cracks from the floor
Abandoning a course 'selected' they ignore!
'Fire! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Check, Please!
Those who believe,
A quality obtained...
Can be kept and yet replace,
Those who initiated that quality to please...
In the first place.
With a keeping of the same taste expected,
Fool only themselves.
It takes much more than a replacement to restore,
That which has been established...
Patrons served came to adore.
And the ones who ignore this,
Know very little about 'their' business!
But a lesson learned that is earned...
Eventually teaches.
'Excuse me...
But,
Is your chef on vacation? '
The one we admired for his presentation? '
~No we've replaced that chef.
We could not meet his demands or expectations!
And frankly...
His arrogance we could no longer accept.
We paid him his worth.~
'I see.
May we have our checks, please? '
~Would you like to select something else from the menu? ~
'Why?
Would that change the ambiance?
You've already destroyed that,
By taking our preferences for granted.
Check, please! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He Prefers Pears
Apples may be the fruit of choice.
But the chef says he prefers pears in his kitchen.
'Are you ready to order?
Or would you rather find a more suitable view?
The chef wouldn't mind at all!
Afterall...
How did you know we were here?
Someone made to you
Our menu clear!
If not by taste...
Certainly by a choice that was voiced?
Quality here is our adventure.
With a hint of heat to leave you moist! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Will Be There
No need for one to digest,
What is yet ready for one to order
From a selective menu.
When the appetite begins to crave...
The serving will be just as fresh,
The moment one gets it to devour.
Why sour one's taste,
For something that will sit on a plate...
Untouched without an interest,
To sample what is offered.
It will be there!
Whenever one comes,
And is prepared to indulge.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Waited So Long
I waited so long 9 months in fact, the birth it felt like an attack
I waited so long to turn my back, on childhood and 12 years intact
I waited so long to turn 16, get a car exploit the dream
I waited so long to find a girl, the one I'd love and begin a world
I waited so long to graduate, leave behind an untold fate
I waited so long to be married, no longer a child to be carried
I waited so long to learn a craft, then came along our nations draft
I waited so long to turn 21, end adolescence, adult life begun
I waited so long to be a Dad, raise a child, my heart feel glad
I waited so long to have a son, feel proud inside new line begun
I waited so long to be a grandparent, love a child and not be errant
I waited so long to get this far to find myself, with many a scar
Life's a challenge, and that's a fact, but time is short, so compact
Life goes on the wrinkles I hate, the pounds put on, just won't wait
No longer to wait, from now on I happen,
Others can wait, It's energy I'm sappin'
poem by Daniel Lloyd Kennedy
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Stacked On Platters
The relevance of forgiveness,
Has distanced the significance of it...
From making an influential appearance.
Indignities are serve and presented,
As a choice on a menu selected to eat.
To feast upon by many shown licking their fingers.
The relevance of forgiveness,
Has distanced the significance of it...
From making an influential appearance.
And those preparing for the main course are teased,
With the passing aound of hors d'oeuvres...
Heated with biases to please and stacked on platters.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Infested and Compromised
Concentrate on removing that stuff off your plate.
The 'stuff' that you ordered but now say you hate?
On the menu it may look tempting to please..
But the picture is painted,
To attract with its photography!
The presentation is meatless...
It's lacking of beef!
There's nothing to sink the teeth into...
Nothing worthy enough to repeat!
Hoping one might be ready,
For a taste of exquisite dessert...
But the chef that has mixed this wasted crap,
Gets paid under the table and lays in dirt!
This place was selected,
Since many thought they had 'arrived'!
But it seems more nastier at the top...
Than anyone of merit could ever realize.
There is much more filthyness,
With an urgency to be sanitized!
When those climbing to achieve prestigious success,
Leave those on the bottom...
Infested and compromised!
Unconcerned where they head,
Or how steep their nose dive!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Vanilla Sky
The chef prepares a special menu for your delight, oh my
Tonight you fly so high up in the vanilla sky
Unbearable or great
You gotta love every hour, you must appreciate
This is your time
This is your day
Youve got it all
Dont blow it away
The chef prepares a special menu for your delight, oh my
Tonight you fly so high up in the vanilla sky
Melted tinbeads cast your fortune in a glass of wine
Snail or fish, balloon or dolphin, see yourself shine
This is your time
This is your day
Youve got it all
Dont blow it away
The chef prepares a special menu for your delight, oh my
Tonight you fly so high up in the vanilla sky
In the vanilla, in the vanilla, in the vanilla sky
In the vanilla, in the vanilla, in the vanilla sky
In the vanilla sky
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Must Be The Place I Waited Years To Leave
(tennant/lowe)
----------------
(everybody e-e-everybody
Everybody e-e-everybody
Everybody e-e-everybody
Everybody jump to attention...)
Each morning after sunblest
Feel the benefit, mental arithmetic
I waited by the staffroom
In time for benediction
Living a law just short of delusion
When we fall in love theres confusion
This must be the place I waited years to leave
To our voices nobodys listening
We shiver in the rain by the touchline
Then a coach ride to the station
My lord, the carriage awaiteth!
Living a law just short of delusion
When we fall in love theres confusion
This must be the place I waited years to leave
This must be the place I waited years to leave
And how
How long?
Im listening to the words I thought Id never hear again
A litany of saints and other ordinary men
Kneeling on the parquet
Whatever has gone wrong?
The fear and feeling hopelessness
I dont want to belong
I dreamt I was back in uniform
And a candidate for examination
History, someone had blundered
And a voice rapped knuckle under!
Living a law just short of delusion
When we fall in love theres confusion
This must be the place I waited years to leave
This must be the place I waited years to leave
And how
And how
How long?
(trebuet nash narod odnogo)
[our people demand only...]
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Until You've Had Enough
Seeking elsewhere to get your peace?
And finding it difficult to find any,
Wherever you go just to sample a taste of it...
As if to treat?
Do you believe it to be on a menu?
Or laid to spread on a buffet,
Already prepared to feast upon and eat...
Until you've had enough,
To exit from it to leave.
As long as you keep those thoughts alive,
You'll never discover a peace inside.
As long as you keep those thoughts alive,
You'll always be denying life and from it hiding.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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~~~The Chef~~~
Saucy as the tang of Chili...
...Warmed as gingers heated groans-
Taste delight of Curry to the palate...
...Sweet as Honey Bees, to their drones...
Sirens scented journey-
Into aroma's of London Town...
Satisfied a billowing hunger...
Placed a smile and erased a frown...
Courted with Heavenly Manna-
Ushered in, by taste buds sweet...
Raised and baked in sheer splendour-
Temperature of ovens complete!
In the kitchen of attractions wonder-
Sizzles a Chef So Supreme...
Seasoned and hand crafted taste delight
He's todays: 'Cream De La Cream'
Ordinary cook, no never? !
Naturally adept at La Cuisine...
Evermore shall he create...
Succulent, saucy, dreams...
Watch: Take Home Chef
TLC, Weekdays
4: 00 P.M. Eastern
Dedicated to:
Chef: Curtis Stone
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This 'Event' Is Not Customized
If you do not like or enjoy,
What is being offered...
Stop returning to the buffet.
What has been dished,
Is it!
Your complaints,
Are not going to change...
The arrangement of the selections.
If you do not like or enjoy,
What is being offered...
Stop returning to the buffet.
Others have done it,
And have successfully moved on their way.
No one but you,
Has suggested to the cook...
What added ingredient to use,
To sweeten or suit a particular taste.
If what you perceive is not happening for you...
Do not wait to be force fed.
This 'event' is not customized,
For apologies served to render.
Not here!
Today...
Or on tomorrow's menu!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Driven By Delusion
Driven by delusion?
Where did you get that conclusion?
We heard that and chose it to ignore.
Since we know how we arrived.
And persistence did it.
Most times with the pedal pushed to the floor.
With a confidence to approach,
And knock on many doors.
Driven by delusion?
Delusion might have taken the credit.
But we did not sit in stifled reminiscing!
With champagne sipping on caviar dreams!
Are you kidding?
Not one of us tried to find that time.
If you knew how precious to us time means?
Driven by delusion?
We do admit there had been some wishes.
But all of us are aware of this...
A good work ethic could not be dismissed.
And delusion came along for the ride.
Delusion had nothing to do with our drive!
Not a thing to do with this...
Not one bit!
And,
Let me say this...
'IF' you believe any of this was driven by delusion,
You obviously have been fantasized by 'bling'
And not by substance.
Since substance requires one to take control,
With an experience to be behind the wheel!
And none of us has acquired a taste for substitutes.
To waste and use as an excuse.
Choosing to lead.
And not be the ones who followed.
'And,
Just 'who' are the 'we' you refer to? '
Oh...
Apologies!
I always refer to myself in third person!
Especially if the task 'appears' to be more than I can handle!
With 'that' on my mind.
And so far...
I've underestimated myself too often.
But 'never' my abilities!
You have no idea,
How they seem to have a mind of their own!
'I'm learning not to take anything for granted!
Not a single thing.'
Why are you backing away from me like that?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Getting One To Speak Fluent French
You can dress a monkey in a tuxedo
To mingle amongst key guests and their associates.
But getting one to speak fluent French at cocktail parties,
To impress those of social influence
Is almost impossible to negotiate
IF they are not asked to participate in selecting the menu
And choice of hors d'oeuvres served
They can be very tempermental when feeling imposed upon
To perform in atmospheres with too many pretentious people.
Gathering around to be entertained and 'Mais Oui-ed' for kicks
'My next impersonation?
Edith Piaf
La Vie en Rose
In the key of G-flat, please
AND
May I just say this
IF there is going to be any of that fluttering around
As I deliver Edith
I'm leaving
I want that understood
I can not be mesmerizing with all that other stuff competing.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Unable To Commit
I choose not to sing,
'We Are The World' with anyone.
Don't be stunned.
I just refuse to sit and sip,
With hypocrites spilling philosophies,
They themselves admit...
They are unable to commit to,
If not assisted by photo ops...
And served hors d'oeuvres!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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First Nibbled to Munch
There is more!
Much much more,
Of this to come.
More than you may welcome.
More to deliver...
Than the total sum,
Of those who bring none!
And when you wish it to be done...
More of this awaits.
Either satisfy or deny your appetities.
Pile this upon your mental plates!
Some of it will be spicey to taste...
Leaving not a dropp of it to resist.
Or disappear with the infighting...
Over who gets the last crumb!
There is more!
Much much more,
Of this to come.
More of this is in the oven.
Prepared to dish...
For those who chanced,
To feast and sit!
Digesting it and not thinking at all...
Why they are not getting sick of it!
And the chef delights,
Observing what is being served...
First nibbled to munch,
To addict those who lick!
Those who sat,
Receiving in disbelief.
As each morsel of this is eaten...
And devoured undisturbed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nothing Nibbled Is Permanent
Live as if life is meant to give.
And...
That life we all have has 'already' been given.
Take as if rewarded for deeds achieved.
And...
Pleased with a life lived is guaranteed.
However...
One breathing daily the breath of life,
Seeking the fulfillment of promises others make...
May become disappointed by the length of the wait,
As frustrations become more the experience...
Of one's delayed expectation.
And,
Unfortunately...
For those living like this,
A complaint department does not exist!
So...
Live as if life is meant to give.
And...
That life we all have has 'already' been given.
Just know this...
Those prepared to taste the texture of cupcakes,
May have to settle for sour lemondrops as a replacement...
Now and then!
Remember...
Nothing nibbled is permanent.
Whether enjoyed or not!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Is The One
A girl consumed by fire
We all know her desire
From the plans that she has made
I had her on a promise
I'mmerse me in your splendour
All the plans that I have made
This is the one
This is the one
This is the one
This is the one
This is the one
She's waited for
This is the one
This is the one
This is the one
Oh this is the one
This is the one
She's waited for
I'd like to leave the country
For a month of Sundays
Burn the town where I was born
If only she'd believe me
Bellona belladonna
Burn me out or bring me home
And this is the one
This is the one
This is the one
This is the one
This is the one
This is the one
She's waited for
This is the one
This is the one
This is the one
Oh this is the one
This is the one
I've waited for
Oh this is the one
Oh this is the one
This is the one
I've waited for
This is the one
Oh this is the one
Oh this is the one
This is the one
I've waited for
This is the one
This is the one
This is the one
Oh this is the one
This is the one
I've waited for
It may go right
It may go wrong
This is the one
This is the one
She's waited for
And this is the one
This is the one
This is the one
This is the one
She's waited for
And this is the one
Oh this is the one
Ah this is the one
This is the one
I've waited for
song performed by by The Stone Roses from Garage Flower
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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B.y.o.b.
When trust has been destroyed...
Who is going to ensure,
Appetizers on a menu...
Suit the taste,
Of guests
Others feel compelled to keep eyes on?
Someone served is going to get a chill first.
And a bill left to be paid,
By the one least prepared to receive unexpected stares.
And an appetite for what has been ordered,
Gone!
Some folks are not into false presentations.
Or the smell of sour cuisine.
Leaving those unaware of what is going on behind the scenes...
Realizing these types of functions,
Are better left 'boo-fayed' and dysfunctional!
With no one to feel they have to 'eat' what they do not like!
Bring what they wish to be dished.
And...
*B.Y.O.B.
'Bring-your -own-bodyguard'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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