A La Carte
A gloomy evening
I was in the red-light district of Yoshiwara, Japan.
In a restaurant I ordered 'Sashimi & Sake'
raw fish with garlic sauce and rice wine
my favorite dish.
I saw a bonhomie 'Geisha'
she wears a red & maroon kimono
who brings the plate with a sing song.
A very familiar face.
Oh! I couldn't believe.
She is my loving wife.
I was so angry and I asked her' who brought you here? '
'you brought me here' she replied calmly.
I woke up to the set alarm.
The dream complicated my mind the whole morning
and suddenly I called home.
She is very fine.
To my poet friend Joe.Breunig
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Related quotes
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
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Experience Is God
I asked, ‘What comes with birth? '
Born and see, God ordered!
I asked, ‘What is said to be education? '
Study and see God ordered!
I asked, ‘What is knowledge? '
Know and see God ordered!
I asked, ‘What is kindness? '
Be kind and shower, God ordered!
I asked, ‘What is love? '
Share with others, God ordered!
I asked, ‘What pleasure do you get from wife? '
Marry and experience, God ordered!
I asked, ‘Who is child to you? '
Get a child for you, God ordered!
I asked, ‘What is old age? '
Become old and observe God ordered!
I asked, ‘What is poverty? '
Toil and see God ordered!
I asked, ‘What happens after death? '
Die and see God ordered!
If anyone wants to know what is life,
And he has to experience and know,
Then why are you, GOD?
GOD said, ‘O' poor man,
The experience itself is ME!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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Rice
On table plateful cooked rice,
Still the steam emits.
On chair I did cling,
Waited my wife curry to bring.
Beyond the plate, I behold
The farm wet with solicitude
Where the peasants
Sow the seeds.
Hot rice brings to the mind,
The paddy plants pined,
And the debt cankered peasants,
Whose sweats the balm to welted awns.
Held the rusty scythes,
And bent like the scythes,
The darkened women sang throat opened,
And the folk song my core vibrated.
Cooked rice still steamy,
And white purely,
As the mind of farmer,
The climate and price fall boiled ever.
Born to toil in the soil,
Farmers return to the soil,
To feed the worms,
Hanging on a rope hopeless.
When my dear curry brought,
I painfully thought:
No life without rice,
And without the peasant no rice.
poem by Fabiyas M V
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Pizzeria
I was serving Pizza to the tables
A Restaurant in Venice, Italy.
An old man came in a Gondola with a pipe in his mouth.
I greeted him and he ordered a dish.
I said; 'You resembled Signor Alberto Moravia.
'If I am not mistaken the movie 'A Ghost at noon or Contempt', filmed by Jean-Luc Godard, is that your novel? '
After the meal he just smiled and gave his name card and left the Restaurant leaving all his change on the table.
As soon as I woke up early in the morning
I grumbled with my wife about the name card.
Then she jumped at me and cried; 'You Rasputin must be having a date with a tart? '
I just kept quiet and thought of my strange dream.
* I remember in my school days our film society arranged an Italian film festival, slightly come to my mind some film cut-outs of Jean-Luc Godard & Vittorio De Sica.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Jigsaw
Here we hear that a perch stands for fish or for pole, -
though this pole can be twenty four feet long or square –
or a pole upon which
a kingfisher can perch
before diving to fish for his dinner dish.
Don’t consider it rude if we add that a rood
is the same as a perch, or a pole or a rod,
and a rood is a Cross, so please don’t become cross
as we must get across that this cross can be square, -
and this square cross can lengthwise be measured – so there!
A pole, too, is a fish, somewhat flounderish
with fine fins which swish and a face like a dish.
Thus kingfisher must fish for his dish, and that dish is a dish,
so lets face it in anguish, - a dish is a dish is a fish!
As a face is a head, and a head is a poll
which tells who is ahead, or shows what each prole
thought of what someone said:
and a wat, as all know, is a temple Cambo –
all the sages who sow seeds of wisdom say, - oh,
to all this don’t say ‘No! ’
Then watt brings us a light which shines down in the night, -
though this seems ‘out of sight’, you should now see the light, -
that kingfishers alight as they perch on their pole
ere they pounce on their poll
for to search for their perch,
for the soul of the sole in the shoal.
What rude fishermen do
before rod poles align
with a line from their perch to their perch.
Like the kingfisher too, bird of brilliant hue,
is our parrot, Poll, who is no stranger to you.
When he’s not being rude he tends somewhat to brood
or repeat through and through, as in these lines I do.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Fish And Rice
Daniel phoned me today
with his usual two year old exuberance
which comes naturally when you are two
and comes naturally when you're fifty two
until you extinguish it with old damp habits,
and he said
'Fish! Fish! I like fish very much!
Daddy, fan fan, fan fan', (Chinese for rice)
and yes Daniel has already mastered
three languages, English, Mandarin and enthusiasm
the last of which he is most adept at.
Well I thought he was enjoying his fish supper
but not so, and I should have known,
this exuberance could not be the result of food
unless perhaps a rare taste
of smooth creamy chocolate.
No he was feeding fish,
fish with an appetite for rice?
No, but no one had told him the ingredients of fish food
or me for that matter
and of course he was right,
as far as the fish are concerned
this was indeed the rice of life.
And he was now suddenly very upset
standing in the corner, arms folded, despondent
what happened? I asked
I am told by my reporting wife
that there had been a message I had missed,
and should have known.
Feeding fish is more essential for happiness
than eating fish,
and on his return home, freely swimming happy fish
should be waiting for his love and bliss.
poem by David Taylor
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Restaurant fragments
That day we were in Burgundy’s
and somebody played the notes
of “Ballade pour Adeline”
on the piano
and it was peaceful in that restaurant
while a waiter brought the menu
and I ordered a bottle of white wine for you
and drank a glass of golden Hunters.
You were busy with your notebook
and were searching for a shopping list
as if suddenly it had disappeared
but everything was inter-textual
and our life played out in small happenings.
Much too quickly the time between us
was running out
so as if you already
had other greener pastures
and you were busy with the list
of things that we have to buy
and the quietness of the restaurant
came to lie in my heart.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Green horn
These days I dream of America and they offered me the green card.
I visited to my far relatives who were living there.
Some are in California and the rest in Massachusetts.
They showed me the hospitality but in doubts.
I feel that they might think I'll be a burden for them.
Never mind I said good bye
And searched for my scattered unseen friends.
I am totally tired and frustrated.
I heard the statue of Liberty is whispering something.
'Why don't you visit our ancestors? '
I left for Red indian Reservoirs
And they guided me to Geronimo's tomb and some Apaches.
We talked each other many things like old familiar friends
And when I woke up I found a red feather on my pillow.
Sing Song my beloved wife brought me the bed tea.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Delicious Fish's Wishes
Fish, fish, what do you wish?
To each his own,
BUT
I wish
for a fish
on a dish
(mmm... delish!)
'Ah, pish! '
says the darned fish.
'I wish to be
in the sea
swimming free
and...
perhaps...
drinking...
so me...
tea? '
(muttered he,
dreamily.)
'But all in all, just me being me.'
But suddenly!
A bee
stung me
on the knee
(ouch! said I. er, me)
Back to earth with Bree!
And I'm left to wonder
If me the fish would berate
Were he not lying postrate
dead
on my plate...
poem by Breanna Cazalet
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Faith
Woke up in the morning still I heard this song
Must be somewhere from my dreams, I dont know
Made me feel so good, sun was shining bright
God, I love you that you brought this little song to give me..
Faith
In the morning
I need that faith
To go on, yeah
Give me some faith
Cant get enough of that sweet feeling, give me faith
Oh yeah, I keep the faith
Sweet little girl, lying next to me
Sunlights playing on your face with soft shadows
Youre so beautiful, dream on, dream on, baby
Im gonna wake you up when the time is right
Ill give you..
Faith...
One day I shall be released by my creator
Going home to where I came from long ago
And the big wheel keeps on turning round and round
Into eternity with me to cosmic meadows
I will be there with all my friends..
..in the morning
I need that faith...
song performed by by Alphaville
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Snow-White (Part 3)
She entered and lied in a bed to sleep, but she was feeling as a bandit.
She was shaking being so cold, but she couldn't move under the blanket.
Drifting illusions rolled on her dreams to nothing else but a dying trance,
The breadth of her mind stopped for a second to wish any other chance.
In his vision, the prince saw her dancing so gracefully and being alone.
As angelic was the princess Snow White as the heaven was her home.
The next day, he seemingly heard her again singing in the early dawn,
Her reflection on the water he touched, but she was suddenly gone.
That house belonged to seven dwarfs working in a diamond mine.
Having some mine flowers inside, their home had a special shine.
She drank wine and ate vegetables from each glass and each plate,
The dwarfs returned home and lit their candles wanting to recreate.
They approached their candles to that bed to clearly see Snow-White.
'Good heaven! ', 'She is so beautiful! ' They loudly exclaimed in the night.
She told them about her story and her desperate search for a new home,
They asked her to clean their house, they told her to avoid the wood to roam.
The oldest dwarf was the Smiley, the one they could really smile back to...
The youngest dwarf was called the Lier, because he couldn't say any true...
She wanted to be brave in the face of what was fearful, fatidic and fateful,
She could play and dance with her friends and she was really grateful.
She asked the little Sleepy, ''Are you aware that you talk always in your sleep? ''
''Don't say that! ' He replied, 'You should know that your confidence I'll keep! '
She said and asked the Painter, ''Paint me the mine with your deep emotion! ''
The Singer composed for Snow White a sweet serenade to set her in motion.
‘'Mirror, on the wall, who in this land is fairest of all? '' Queen wanted to know.
‘'You, my queen, are fair; it is true, '' replied the bad mirror through its glow.
''But beyond the seven mountains, in the dwarfs' house, Little Snow-White
Is a thousand times fairer than you, moreover, her future is extremely bright! '
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Song Dream
She found the reason to dream
The impossible dream
She found the reason to smile again
She found the reason to sing the love songs to you
She found the reason to be happy again
She found the reason to start over by loving you and me
She has learned her lesson
And she would not be here today if it wasn’t for God
God forgave her once again
And gave her one more chance
The chance of a lifetime
Song dream
Is her song
The song she sings
Before she goes to sleep every night
Her life has turned around
It became better
She showed more respect and love to others
Love is the best gift you can give your boy friend
Love is putting your hand out to help your boy friend
Love is all the little things to put in to a dream
My heart is yours forever
It is a part of the dream
In her dream one night
She saw the ships
Sailing in the harbor
And you and her
Was sailing in this ship
The harbor so big and so beautiful
The song dream
Is her favorite song
She found dreaming to be peaceful and relaxing
When she sleeps
The song dream
She has more joy out of her life now
Than she did before
The song dream will never end
It is part of her life
Let’s sing along once more
The song of dream
Because that is her song
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Lost in translation
At My favorite Chinese restaurant
The other day, I somehow got to thinking
about ethnicity
I wondered if there were Chinese Jews
So I asked my waiter
Explicitly:
“Do you have Chinese Jews? ”
I innocently asked
my Chinese waiter
“I don’t think so, I really don’t know,
But I’ll ask the manager and
Let you know later”
He returned in a while
And said with a smile
“no…No have Chinese Jews.”
I couldn’t believe it: a bazzillion people
No “Morrys“…“No Sheckys? ”
What astounding news! !
I queried him again
“could you check
Once more my friend? ”
He denied and replied,
“I regret to admit ItAnd don’t want
To offend
But what you ask for
Has us completely
Confused”
“So sorry to say… that for today
We have only: Grape..Orange…Tomato
and Prune Jews.”
poem by David Whalen
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Black Train Song (live)
(Recorded live at the spectrum, Philadelphia 1-5-1970)
People get ready there's a train coming
You don't need a ticket
Clime on board
woooooooooo !!!
Train arrive
Sixteen cortege long
Train arrive
Sixteen cortege long
Will there be no train
Took my baby, it's gone
Train, train
Comin' round the bend
Train, train
Comin' round the bend
Yeah, there will be no evil train
Took my one and only friend
Train, train
Comin' down the line
Train, train
Comin' down the line
Well there will be no rock train
Took me on and a friend of mine
Train, train
Comin' down the track
Train, train
Comin' down the track
Yeah it took my baby
And it never bring her back
Alright
Away, away, away of India
Away of India
Away, away, away, away of India
Away of India
That's right
Away, away, away of India
Away, away, away of India
That's right, that's right
Away, away, away of India
That's right
Well, i woke up this morning got the crossroad on my mind
Well, i woke up this morning got the crossroad on my mind
Take a walk with me everything will work out fine
Well, i woke up this morning got the joit train on my mind
Well, i woke up this morning got the joit train on my mind
Take a walk with me everything will work out fine
Well, i woke up this morning got the eight miles on my mind
Well, i woke up this morning got the eight miles on my mind
Tale a walk with me everything, everything will work out fine
Well i woke up this morning got the crossroad on my mind
Well i woke up this morning got the crossroad on my mind
Take a walk with me
Everything
Everything
Everything
Everything gonna work out fine
wooooooooo
Train, train
Comin' down
Took my baby
Tokk my baby
Took my love
Away
Well i woke up this morning got nothin' on my mind
song performed by by Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What A Crazy World
What a crazy world we live in,
and you can say that again.
For when we open up, ours mouths
sometimes the words we say,
just come out all wrong.
A Scottish friend of my wife
went to see the Doctor
as her pregnancy was over due.
The Doctor told her
he would give it another week
and then he would have to induce her.
When she went, home
and her husband asked how it went.
What she said next must
have come as a big surprise.
The Doctor said if I haven’t had it
in another week,
he was going to seduce me.
Another friend of Vera’s
went to the Doctor one day.
He asked, have you come on your cycle?
She quickly replied,
no my husband brought me in his car.
Vera must be learning from them.
When we were engaged,
my mother gave her
a large bunch of peonies.
She went to work the next day
and told all her friends about the flowers.
She then wondered why
they were curled up with laughter.
She told them about the flowers OK,
but her tongue couldn’t get a grip on peonies
and something else came out instead.
What a crazy world we live in
and I wouldn’t change it in anyway.
21 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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Unknown Painters & Paintings!
Tiny kettle whistles in the kitchenette
and the rusty alarm clock cries
on the bedside table.
She must have woke up early
with a bad dream?
and prepares the morning cup of tea!
I too woke up lazily and wiped the frosty window
with my criss-cross palm?
O the faraway gloomy sky's covered
with heavy winter clouds!
Invisible Master! Have you done
this Masterpiece?
The entire life I tried but in vain
and my painting named 'Depression'
Not finished yet for the Exhibition?
['Nearly everyman who develops an idea, works at it up to the point where it looks impossible and then gets discouraged.That's not the place to become discouraged.']-Thomas Alva Edison
to my poet friend Nightmute in gratitude!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A deadly dream
A little while ago I was among them
Smiling, talking and calling the life pleasure,
I remember a twinge of pain in my chest
And then it was dark all around,
I heard my loving ones crying and wailing,
People asked one another, 'What happened to him? How did he die? '
Somebody replied, 'It was a heart attack.'
Somebody said,
'It was so sudden that we could do nothing.'
There was a lot of hustle and bustle around,
After sometimes I was given a warm bath
And they wrapped me in the shroud,
But I didn't feel any suffocation,
It reminded me of something
When I was alive, I couldn't sleep covering my face
for the fear of suffocation,
Now it could hurt me no more.
I felt I was being carried away on the steal,
People were enchanting sacred verses,
They buried me with heavy hearts
And returned their homes.
Suddenly I woke up by the gentle pat of my wife,
She was standing beside my bed saying, 'Wake up darling, the day has advanced.'
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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A Bird Has No Wings In The Storm
I started re-reading Kawabata Yasunari san's 'Izu no Odoriko'
and I dream of your golden country 'Japan'.
I was surprised as I have been there.
Chiba-ken, Matsudo city, sakura-dori, tokiwadaira coffe master
funabashi Japanese language school,
the railway between Kunugiyama & goko.
Sapporo beer, sake with sakasuki
taste of tempura and udong; sushi and sashimi
the restaurants I visited with my life long friend Shozo Suzuki san and his
family.
I walk towards in the memory lane
melancholy tune of windbells in Yoshiwara,
still I breathe the cool breeze there
and I sniff the fragrance of death from isolated graveyards
I would like to drown in Sumida -kawa
like Dazai Ozamu san who killed himself by drowning in the lakeTamagawa at Inokashira park.
I am sure that you will bury me near by Ishikawa Takuboku san's grave.
Though I am a Sri Lankan, I may be belongs to your soil in my early birth.
Oh! God if you are still remain in the sky; please grant me an opportunity to see them at least once
before I die in my cage.
that's my only wish.
Dedication to my life long friend Shozo.Suzuki & his family. Also to the poetess Sayumi Takahashi san & Yasuyuki Tanaka san.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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It Is Just Like A Dream
It is just like a dream when you lack communication,
Nine years in riches as you claim it to be;
But i will like to say,
Welcome to the club.
It was the mystic of the air which sounded the echo,
Like a joyful song to see my friend once again;
Nine years in absence do tell it all.
Is it a dream or, just a trip from japan?
This is the state of my mind to the oracles.
Here he was in a different style,
It was just like a dream to me;
He saw the changes of our life styles too.
Welcome home, welcome to Ghana;
The very home you left some years ago.
What do you expect when you lack communication?
Right from the oracles to the realms at large;
How is it in Japan as compared to Africa? !
Take a clue from this and do get in touch always.
Ask 'Rocky Dawuni' and 'Kofi Annan' and,
They will tell you more about life;
My friend, welcome home.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Quest
I dreamt a dream like none before.
It stirred my very soul!
It started with an open door
Through which I chose to stroll.
Then, once inside, that room beyond,
My heart was filled with fear!
Yet how else could my heart respond?
I sensed that God was here!
Then, suddenly, I heard Him speak
As He called out my name...
I trembled and my legs grew weak.
My conscience brought me shame.
'Fear not! ' He said, 'We meet this night
To put you on a quest! '
'What for? ' I asked without delight...
No way did I feel blessed!
'You've prayed a lot! ' the Lord replied.
'A woman you desire! '
I've heard you when you've sighed and sighed!
Yes, you're quite a sigher!
Your quest, My son, is search and find
One woman for your wife!
One woman with a holy mind
To live with all your life! '
Then God was gone and I awoke,
Still trembling, scared to death!
Wondering, was this just a joke?
Or Christ from Nazareth! ?
Somehow I sensed God had a plan,
A sacred destiny.
That morning came and so began
The quest God meant for me...
I walked across the years ahead...
My youth then passed me by...
In middle age, and still not wed,
I humbly wondered why.
No woman with a holy mind,
Obedient to God's Laws.
I tested them, but couldn't find
A female without flaws.
I prayed to God, 'I've failed, my Lord!
No woman cares for me...
No woman's love is my reward
To share eternally...'
Then old age came and Death approached,
'How goes your noble quest? '
'Be still! ' rebuked the Holy Ghost...
'I know he did his best...'
poem by Denis Martindale
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