The pastel drawing of our Cafe de Capricornus!
Capricorn; A southern zodiacal constellation between Sagaittarius and Aquarius.The tenth sign of the zodiac, into which the sun enters at the winter solstice, about December 22.
Darling! We're Capricorns
And the Horoscope says;
This week is better to start a business enterprise
And that develops further on!
So I am drawing our cafe beside the busiest freeway.
Definitely that would be a stopover!
'What are you going to sell there? '
'Bitter coffee of the tasty life with a sentimental poem
And a singsong with my four stringed ukulele.'
'How about spicy buns? '
' That's good we could have supply them heavy sexy spicy buns.'
'When this pastel drawing hangs on the dreamy cafe wall? '
She said with her menopausal sad smile
And it's a gloomy rainy day!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Related quotes
Cafe Prague.
Cream coloured coffee
And hot buttered toast
August sunshine
A packet of cigarettes
Talks on love and life
Friends and strangers all together
Days of summer
Seated on outside chairs
Tears and laughter
Mixed in the air
Of the perfect day just us and them
Cafe pavements
The world at view
Paris, Rome and cafe Prague
Used coffee cups
And ashtrays too
Paris, Rome and cafe Prague
Trendy young girls
And the wannabe author
Auster, Adams and Mr. Salinger
Days of dreaming
The perfect film
In view for all to see
Hello, hello
So good to see you
Was it twelve?
Or maybe it was two
I’ll sit and wait
And think of you
Cafe pavements
For me and you
Pairs, Rome and cafe Prague
Dirty spoons and knives
And glasses too
Paris, Rome and cafe Prague
Teacups and Earl grey
And ice cream sundaes
Black and white life
In full technicolour
Light my cigarette
And I’ll listen all day
Sunshine days
Storm clouds - away
The table over there
Just a smiling man
For today - all alone
Waiting his time
Cafe pavements
The world today
Paris, Rome and cafe Prague
Beautiful Ladies
And business gents
Paris, Rome and Cafe Prague
Student cameras
And picture painting
Hollywood lifestyle
In the common street
Brando, Dean and Al Pacino
Next to you and me
See you later
Maybe tomorrow
Give me a ring
And we’ll make a date
I’ll sit and think
And wait for you
Cafe pavements
For meetings and lunch
Paris, Rome and cafe Prague
Perfect tables
And used up chairs
Paris, Rome and cafe Prague
poem by Patrick Sant
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I Didn't Know That Butchered Animals Do Not Feel Pain
sexy, so sexy,
and meaty and
tasty....
tenderloin steak,
spare ribs,
pork barbecue,
menudo,
sausages, and
chicharon, and
brain chops
sexy, so sexy,
butchered meat
feeling no pain
well cooked and
too spicy on my
table.
do i hear
the sound of red
blood dripping?
send it the specialty of this house.
sexy, so sexy,
and meaty and tender and juicy....
that is how i want things to be.
i don't mind the pain too.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Get Your Biscuits In The Oven And Your Buns In The Bed
(Kinky Friedman)
You uppity women I don't understand
Why you gotta go and try to act like a man,
But before you make your weekly visit to the shrink
You'd better occupy the kitchen, liberate the sink.
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed
That's what I to my baby said,
Women's liberation is a-going to your head,
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed.
Early every morning you're out on the street
Passing out pamphlets to everyone you meet.
You gave up your Maiden Form for Lent
And now the front of your dress has an air scoop vent.
Every single brakeman that's ever come along
Had a little woman always tellin' him that he's wrong.
Eve said to Adam, ?Here's an apple you horse?
And Delilah defoliated Samson's moss.
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed
That's what I to my baby said,
Women's liberation is a-going to your head,
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed.
Mean-hearted harpies are breaking all the laws
Tearing up their girdles and a-burning up their bras,
Now the air is dirty and the sex is clean
And your coffee makes my hair turn green.
So damn emancipated in your mind and your body,
Gonna have to cancel all your lessons in karate.
If you can't love a male chauvinist
You'd better cross me off your shopping list.
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed
That's what I to my baby said,
Women's liberation is a-going to your head,
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Get Your Biscuits In The Oven & Your Buns In The Bed
(kinky friedman)
You uppity women I dont understand
Why you gotta go and try to act like a man,
But before you make your weekly visit to the shrink
Youd better occupy the kitchen, liberate the sink.
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed
Thats what I to my baby said,
Womens liberation is a-going to your head,
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed.
Early every morning youre out on the street
Passing out pamphlets to everyone you meet.
You gave up your maiden form for lent
And now the front of your dress has an air scoop vent.
Every single brakeman thats ever come along
Had a little woman always tellin him that hes wrong.
Eve said to adam, heres an apple you horse
And delilah defoliated samsons moss.
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed
Thats what I to my baby said,
Womens liberation is a-going to your head,
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed.
Mean-hearted harpies are breaking all the laws
Tearing up their girdles and a-burning up their bras,
Now the air is dirty and the sex is clean
And your coffee makes my hair turn green.
So damn emancipated in your mind and your body,
Gonna have to cancel all your lessons in karate.
If you cant love a male chauvinist
Youd better cross me off your shopping list.
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed
Thats what I to my baby said,
Womens liberation is a-going to your head,
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drop Your Buns Aunt Betty
Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
And that package on your back.
We ate your baked cookies,
And they went rather fast.
Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
We know they are delicious
Since they're made with cinnamon.
We're not a bit suspicious
Of the love that's in them.
Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
And grab a little snack and relax.
You owe us that!
Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
And that package on your back.
We ate your baked cookies,
And they went rather fast.
Drop your buns Aunt Betty.
Would you like a bowl of soup,
To boot that mood that has you pooped.
From all that mixing in the kitchen fixing food that you do.
There's some noodles with onions and peppers in it too!
Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
And that package on your back...
And relax.
Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
We know they are delicious
Since they're made with cinnamon.
We're not a bit suspicious
Of the love that's in them.
Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
And grab a little snack and relax.
You owe us that!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Happy Melody in The Kitchenette On My Day Off!
Hey! Darling what are you frying that smells fine?
Shrimps in hot garlic Tonight's menu!
Oh! That sounds very good
But don't be tired
Just a slice of bread
Dip in the last night's chicken gravy is more than enough
With a bottle of King Cobra Beer!
I am scared if the food is not sufficient
You may run to different restaurants for varities?
I understood the sorrowful music and changed the topic.
Darling! I am scared that we have to work here till we die?
Don't bother honey as I read in the paper the horoscope
End of this year Saturn moves somewhere
And bring prospects to Capricorns!
We both are Capricorns and do not forget that?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Real Art
Real Art
I woke up a blue neon light, outside my hotel room,
kept lightning up my space, I looked out and saw
a man in a cafe sitting by the counter eating a burger,
he had hat on and looked ca 1948.
Knew I was in an Edward Hopper painting but didn’t
want to be a part of his bleak cityscape of lone men
who live in cheap hotels and drink coffee in a cafe,
which clientele are lost souls like me.
I splashed water in my face adjusted my tie put my
hat on and walked out, a cab drove by looking for
a fare, I opened the cafe’s door, the man with hat had
gone, drank coffee and ate a doughnut.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Cafe Of Dreams
welcome to the cafe
the cafe of dreams
the cattle stand dry
dry of mouth parched
awaiting their slaughter
so that a tired worker
may enjoy a good steak
meat pie or sausages
ground meat salt herbs spices
fried lovingly in your frying pan
not young mince meat dying
politic rhetoric in Afghanistan
slaugherhouse cafe is open
not only for teenagers who
dine 'Café des Abbatoirs'
die daily like passing cattle
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Texture
It is not important,
What it does.
How it does it.
Or if it is viable,
To those who deem it as a need.
If it feels good.
And the texture of it is right...
It will be made to be in demand.
Felt and caressed between one's hands...
Before the stock market is closed!
With the booting of buns.
Whether they are tightly held or not!
'You mean 'bonds'? '
Buns, bonds, balls...
Whatever.
This is about texture!
The feel and the description of it!
Not what they are called.
But how they feel!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Lovely White Flowers
He went inside the cafe where they used to sit together.
It was here, three months ago, that his friend told him:
'We're completely broke -so hard up, the two of us,
that we're stuck with the cheapest places.
I can't go around with you any more -it's no use hiding the fact.
I've got to tell you, somebody else is after me.'
The 'somebody else' had promised him two suits, some silk handkerchiefs.
He himself, to get his friend back,
went through hell rounding up twenty pounds.
His friend came back to him for the twenty pounds-
but along with that, for their old intimacy,
their old love, for the deep feeling between them.
The 'somebody else' was a liar, a real bum:
he'd ordered only one suit for his friend,
and that under pressure, after much begging.
But now he doesn't want the suits any longer,
he doesn't want the silk handkerchiefs at all,
or twenty pounds, or twenty piastres even.
Sunday they buried him, at ten in the morning.
Sunday they buried him, almost a week ago.
He laid flowers on his cheap coffin,
lovely white flowers, very much in keeping
with his beauty, his twenty-two years.
When he went to the cafe that evening
he happened to have some vital business there
to that same cafe where they used to go together,
it was a knife in his heart,
that dead cafe where they used to go together.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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Liverpool Days
Wavertree road used to have a café there called
“Tasty Toaster, ” business was good till the formidable
M.T. came to power and low paid worker, my main
costumers, got the sack, and told to go on bikes they
couldn’t afford to buy in the first place.
Above the shop lived a lady teacher, she drank, at ten
in the evening, as I closed and cleaned up, I could hear
her sing, when filling her bathtub with water.
One night, it was raining; she must have had a stroke
or something, the water kept running, rotten floor she
and the bathtub ended up in my café.
Under the door the water ran and down the street, since
it was raining few has noticed. Called the police when
I got there, the landlord came, insisted that I had to pay.
I threaten to sue him; he called me a Polish shit and
blamed me for the holocaust I called him a Jewish shit
and blamed him for Palestine. I finally collected my
insurance money and retired from the catering business
poem by Jan Oskar Hansen
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The Parrot
The Parrot.
The café in our village has shut. The couple who ran it left
when their parrot died. They had kept the place open for it,
since it was a genial bird. The parrot called everyone who
entered idiots; people laughed no one took offence, or so
we all thought. But someone must have taken umbrage, it
was shot through the window when the café was empty.
Feather everywhere the village was shocked, who could do
such a shameful deed? The culprit, was a farmer, who had
drunk his coffee at the café for twenty odd years, and had
enough of being called an idiot. The moral of this sad tale,
if there is any: if you call a man an idiot long enough he will
end up being one.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Sad at 65
Here I am almost 65.
In some ways only half alive.
Last week is just a blur;
A lot of memories never were.
Most movements have slowed down,
Though urinary tract has rebound.
My colon is much more rude;
No greasy, spicy… tasty food.
As I gaze in the mirror, I sadly see
A strange, old man squinting back at me.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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At 65
Here I am almost 65.
In some ways only half alive.
Last week is just a blur;
A lot of memories never were.
Most movements have slowed down,
Though urinary tract has rebound.
My colon is much more rude;
No greasy, spicy… tasty food.
As I gaze in the mirror, I sadly see
A strange, old man squinting back at me.
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Greedy Cat at the Cafe.
He sits at the corner table
with not a fur out of place,
delicately he eats with a well-manicured claw,
then, overwhelmed by the delicious smell - and taste,
shovels mouthful after mouthful in with his paw.
He greedy comes to the Cafe everyday
for breakfast, lunch and afternoon tea,
Gets served by Chris and Morgan,
two lovely people who, to please their customers
go out of their way.
The Cafe but had no name,
a catchy title none could think of,
But then the cat with the appetite so greedy,
said 'why not name it after me? '
'I always come here everyday,
and the freshest food you go out of the way to serve,
It would do me the greatest honour
if you named it The Greedy Cat Cafe'
So the cafe at last had a name,
'The Greedy Cat' it's now called,
Still everyday there go's that greedy cat,
Because of the food -
and Chris and Morgan's service with a smile -
he could never get bored.
02/01/06.
1104 Wintertime Blues
This Poem is dedicated to everyone
who thinks their Town or Village
closes down in Winter!
What has become of my poor Town
Now that the Winter's really is here?
The Cafe tables have been stowed
And all the cars are our of gear!
All the houses have been shuttered
They seem empty - quiet - still
All the gardens are uncluttered
There's no flowers on the sill!
There's less sign of bussling life
On the Town Centre Arcade
Where I'd sit and watch my wife
Haggle with the passing trade!
The Corner Cafe is very quiet
The freezing swimming pool is closed
No chance of Winter Regatta
Now the Harbour has all froze!
The old freindly French knife sharpner
Now no longer passes through
And Chop Low - the Chinese gardener
Has gone down with Asian Flu!
All the Station's clocks have stopped
And also has the daily train
Because so icy is the line
And deep snow's replaced the rain!
The local bar is changing hands
And the bookshop has closed down
The local park becomes a morgue
Since cold Winter came to Town!
Some folk really welcome Winter
The Town is now a quiter place
You can walk from dawn to sunset
Never see another face!
But it happens every year
Soon the Winter - it will go
Please cheer up don't shed a tear
Goes the Winter - Goes the snow!
And then soon will come the Spring
And the blossom all will grow
And the fledglings preen and sing
In the Sunny Springtime glow!
poem by John Knight
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Your Horoscope For Today
aquarius
There's travel in your future when your tongue freezes to the back of a
Speeding bus
Fill that void in your pathetic life by playing whack-a-mole seventeen hours a
Day
Pisces
Try to avoid any virgos or leos with the ebola virus
You are the tru lord of the dance, no matter what those idiots at work say
Aries
The look on your face will be priceless when you find that forty pound
Watermelon in your colon
Trade toothbrushes with an albino dwarf, then give a hickey to meryl streep
Taurus
You will never find tru happiness - what you gonna do, cry about it?
The stars predict tomorrow you'll wake up, do a bunch of stuff, and then go
Back to sleep
That's your horoscope for today (that's your horoscope for today)
That's your horoscope for today
That's your horoscope for today (that's your horoscope for today)
That's your horoscope for today
Gemini
Your birthday party will be ruined once again by your explosive flatulence
Your love life will run into trouble when your fiance hurls a javelin through
Your chest
Cancer
The position of jupiter says you should spend the rest of the week face down in
The mud
Try not to shove a roll of duct tape up your nose while taking your driver's
Test
Leo
Now is not a good time to photocopy your butt and staple it to your boss's
Face, oh no
Eat a bucket of tuna-flavored pudding, then wash it down with a gallon of
Strawberry quik
Virgo
All virgos are extremely friendly and intelligent - except for you
Expect a big surprise today when you wind up with your head impaled on a stick
That's your horoscope for today (that's your horoscope for today)
That's your horoscope for today
That's your horoscope for today (that's your horoscope for today)
That's your horoscope for today
Now you may find it inconceivable or at the very least a bit unlikely that the
Relative position of the planets and the stars could have a special deep
Significance or meaning that exclusively applies to only you, but let me give
You my assurance that these forcasts and predictions are all based on solid,
Scientific, documented evidence, so you would have to be some kind of moron not
To reaize that every single one of the is absolutely true.
Where was i?
Libra
A big promotion is just around the corner for someone much more talented that
You
Laughter is the very best medicine, remember that when your appendix bursts
Next week
Scorpio
Get ready for an unexpected trip when you call screaming from an open window
Work a little harder on improving your low self-esteem, you stupid freak
Sagittarius
All your friends are laughing behind your back (kill them)
Take down all those naked pictures of ernest borgnine you've got hanging in
Your den
Capricorn
The stars say that you're an exciting and wonderful person, but you know
They're lying
If i were you, i's lock my doors and windows and never never never never never
Leave my house again
That's your horoscope for today (that's your horoscope for today)
That's your horoscope for today
That's your horoscope for today (that's your horoscope for today)
That's your horoscope for today
That's your horoscope for today (that's your horoscope for today)
That's your horoscope for today
That's your horoscope for today (yay yay yay yay yay)
That's your horoscope for today
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Food Of Love
What would you like for supper,
Some steak, with chips and peas,
Maybe, a nice brewed cuppa,
Or me, with lips that please.
You could have something spicy,
Like a curry or sweet and sour,
But these can be a bit spicy
And not good, at this late hour.
Perhaps a glass of beer, or shandy,
Or a brandy to fill the gap,
But, of course, that might make you randy,
Hey! Have that as your nightcap!
There's me, I'm sweet and slender,
And tender like the steak,
And if you put me in a blender,
A fantastic meal, I'd make.
There's food enough for your pleasure,
So don't say you aren't well fed,
When you start to realise I'm a treasure,
You could have 'hot crumpet' in your bed!
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Candy Love
Candy candy the taste of love
Its half past ten and you start to shove
With spicy boys
And girls its on you
The groove is on
So dont be cruel
Candy candy makes you hot
Our capacity burns the quality shocks
The flavour is good
Ill give you some more
It was once a phantasy
Candy love
Its a candy like this
Candy love
Candy candy its eleven oclock
The time is right to fall in love
With spicy boys
Girls its on you
Music can be like an insanity
Its my life a stronger philosophy
It doesnt matter what style we are doing
Crossover, nu rock, hip hop oder scheisskram
song performed by by Guano Apes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Blue Cafe
My world is miles of endless roads
That leaves a trail of broken dreams
Where have you been
I hear you say?
I will meet you at the Blue Cafe
Because, this is wear the one who knows
Meets the one that does not care
The cards of fate
The older shows
To the younger one, who dares to tale
The chance of no return
Where have you been?
Where are you going to?
I want to know what is new
I want to go with you
What have you seen?
What do you know that is new?
Where are you going to?
Because I want to go with you
So meet me down at the Blue Cafe
The cost is great, the price is high
Take all you know, and say goodbye
Your innocence, inexperience
Mean nothing now
Because, this is where the one who knows
Meets the one that does not care
Where have you been?
I hear you say
I'll meet you at the Blue Cafe
So meet me at the Blue Cafe
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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