Celery
Celery, raw
Develops the jaw,
But celery, stewed,
Is more quietly chewed.
poem by Ogden Nash
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Related quotes
Many kids can tell you about drugs but do not know what celery or courgettes taste like.
quote by Jamie Oliver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm afraid of losing my obscurity. Genuineness only thrives in the dark. Like celery.
quote by Aldous Huxley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Democrats seem to be basically nicer people, but they have demonstrated time and again that they have the management skills of celery.
quote by Dave Barry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My parents were vegetarians. I'd show up at school, this giant black kid, with none of the cool clothes and a tofu sandwich and celery sticks.
quote by Aisha Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Canada is the essence of not being. Not English, not American, it is the mathematic of not being. And a subtle flavour - we're more like celery as a flavour.
quote by Mike Myers
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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On a Bed of Romaine
On a bed of Romaine,
Sliced avocado.
Garden tomatoes.
Fresh cucumbers.
Celery and carrots...
Kissed by,
Vadalia Onion Dressing.
And topped with raisins.
Blanketed,
By an awaiting tongue.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Funnyossities
Where silliness borders on the realm of possibility –
that’s the blissful land where children play;
inventing for themselves, or helped
by those never-quite-grown-ups
who spend their working week
chortle-gurgle-wham-ouch-eeuucchh! -‘****? ’-
EEEKK! -AAaarrgghh! ! ! ,
illustrating Kidz Komix and such
in that blissful land
and there were books called ‘Funnyossities’
(they’d be nothing now)
the pages chopped laterally in three:
heads in the top section, every possible caricature,
bodies of every size, shape, dress, the middle section;
then legs of all sorts (lots of hairy ones, of course)
occupied the lower section;
and you turned them over, this way, that way,
to make the most ludicrous combinations…
sometimes just absurd, sometimes surreally possible…
I’m there on the page you’re turning now:
a wizened face, eyes popping;
from my mortar-board, it seems, a schoolmaster enraged
to apoplexy and beyond;
the body of a languid, greenery-yellery poet, wilting like
a stick of celery long past its celery-buy date…
the legs like ancient hairy sticks beneath the woeful shorts…
feel free to chortle, or to turn the page;
it could be worse.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Crusoe
he sat alone sipping
his Bloody Mary
a concoction
of many nutrients
stirring
using his celery stick
to swizzle its blend
he watched
the cloud cover graying
and rogue raindrops
falling like an eye of tear
against the sharpness
of a titmouse chirping
a rainforest
surrounded
his fortress of solitude
as he travelled far
without leaving,
he was always here
listening
the sounds of the jungle
echoing
forever in his eardrums
their loneliness wailed
of isolation
searching
for their companion
You cook vegetable soup
You cook vegetable soup
and I look at you
while you cut green beans,
carrots, onions, celery, parsley
and tomatoes into two pots.
There are herbs, spices
and pepper that you are scattering
and two types of soup powder
that you throw in
and the pots steam and buzz
while I am washing the dishes
and the smell
makes me hungry
and I wonder
if the soup
are going to taste as good
as it smells.
We drink tee
and there’s medicine
that you give for flu
to me
and it’s great
to be with you
to read the look
in your beautiful eyes.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Dark Death
Everyone goes through dark death
It's painful, cruel, and somehow blue
Everyone suffers until last breath
Somewhere the will find a clue
Death is something you can't escape
Sooner or later you'll have to face it
Death is scary and dark like a black cape
You can't see it coming, it'll just hit
Dark death is sometimes sweet
people like it because it takes away he misery
People shoot, hit, and beat
They'll rot away like celery
Dark death is sometimes cool
but it's mostly always cruel
poem by Maria Lara
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Digging 2
To-day I think
Only with scents, - scents dead leaves yield,
And bracken, and wild carrot's seed,
And the square mustard field;
Odours that rise
When the spade wounds the root of tree,
Rose, currant, raspberry, or goutweed,
Rhubarb or celery;
The smoke's smell, too,
Flowing from where a bonfire burns
The dead, the waste, the dangerous,
And all to sweetness turns.
It is enough
To smell, to crumble the dark earth,
While the robin sings over again
Sad songs of Autumn mirth.
poem by Edward Thomas
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Thanksgiving
Full from the feast
table laded
with fragrant dressing,
steam of onion and celery,
tender turkey and
five kinds of pies
The family gathered.
My parents smiled
at our busy banter
brothers
and sisters nudging and
teasing, beaming
in the glow
of that happy day
so long ago.
Now you and I gather
our sons around us;
again we pause, pray
and eat the bounty
of this bright Thanksgiving Day.
They say that some things,
kind hearts,
hearty laughs,
enduring love
are so good
they persist long down
the thankful
generations.
poem by Steven Federle
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The world wants oatmeal. It is not my job to give the world oatmeal. It is my job not to be a hack. It is my job to try to make the world chew, lest its lazy jaw muscles atrophy and its collective mandible withers and all its teeth fall out. It is my job, as a writer, to give the world toffee and peanut brittle and tough steak and celery. I write peanut butter sandwiches, not oatmeal. And every time some dolt whines, "I'm confused" or "I don't understand" or "This doesn't make any sense," I should smile and know that I'm doing my job. Not because it is my job to be opaque, but because it is not my job to be transparent.
quote by CaitlÃn R. Kiernan
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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My Black Eye Pea Stew
Did I mention,
My black eye pea stew to you?
Well...
This is what you do.
Boil your water,
Add sliced smoked turkey butt.
With seasons you prefer.
I like to mix in olive oil with butter first.
Before adding apple vinegar...
With Old Bay and a bit of salt,
Then soy sauce...
To allow my taste buds to burst.
Add your black eye peas.
Speckled butter lima beans.
Kidney and black beans too!
I also enjoy cooking with onions...
Green peppers, carrots and celery.
For a flavored taste,
You simply can not refuse!
Well...
You can 'try' making attempts.
But licking your lips,
Is not too convincing of a defense.
'May I get some more? '
You sure can!
After I get to taste it myself!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Before' The Beans
Take one turkey butt,
And put it in boiling water.
Make sure you had put in olive oil first.
With a little butter, oregano and basil leaves.
Then add two tablespoons of soy sauce.
A pinch or two of brown sugar, salt and red pepper.
20 minutes!
That's all you want to give it 'before' the beans!
Speckled Butter Beans.
With kidney and black eye peas.
Add them with sliced carrots and celery.
Turn down the heat,
To medium for approximately 45minutes.
And serve this with brown rice.
If you are into chicken...
Fried wings would be delicious.
For the better of the best tastes,
The 'smoked' turkey butt is great for that!
NOTE: 'Yes' this is my own original recipe.
Enjoy!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Foolish Flames
All the patients at the clinic make a hall of flames,
Admitting them into schools for the occupation;
Resting this time, a nice trick of the soul and mind,
Resting and suffering superbly, in the mind.
May celery and carrot be the real meal,
The brave ones conquer all, they just conquer.
These men and women are ghosts of children,
Killing all the time, some of us are not dead.
Death has been miraculous tonight,
Sleeping shall be fine, as more than health is absent.
Rolling the eyes helps my path and road
On the way, on the real way.
All these distresses conquer me as I speak
To the pillow and bed, the straw mat of foolery.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Tabloid Moments
An escaping from those tabloid moments,
Seems to be an incredible impossibility.
Plastered on everything that is moving,
Are advertisements reminding...
What's on TV, what to eat, how to dress
And what to read.
Intimate details of celebrities,
Has made the paparazzi a new industry.
And the squeezing of produce in a grocery store,
One is reminded which 'star' is on what diet.
Is it celery and grapefruit?
And what are avocados used for?
An escaping from those tabloid moments,
Seems to be an incredible impossibility.
Plastered on everything that is moving,
Are advertisements reminding...
What's on TV, what to eat, how to dress
And what to read.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A child develops individuality long before he develops taste. I have seen my kid straggle into the kitchen in the morning with outfits that need only one accessory an empty gin bottle.
quote by Erma Bombeck
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We're going to shoot one Polaroid per show. I'm going to sign this before it even develops because I know that once it develops with my signature on it, it's worth a fortune. I'll make this a work of magic warlock art.
quote by Charlie Sheen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love and Its Desserts
There was before me
the carefully prepared plate
the feast of feasts
and she said
'this is my love.'
The dessert was
jubilant
and she took
from the oven
pie after pie
and I ate.
But how to say
that Love's Substitute
is not the meal I eat
nor are the biscuits
the Love I crave
even tho it's the
love she's got to give.
If the Love Train passes
in this night
who to say where
those passing trains
will curve back
and meet
at some future point?
She says I can only give
you the love I have to give
and I say but I need the love
I need to have.
Try as I may
dinner is good
but I'll not be able to see
that it is love of which I dreamed
even though it is the love you
have to give.
So loving her as I do
I eat
too much
and see her love
grow
each year
around my waist.
But that is the measure
of how we take the love
sometimes offered
even if it is not the love
of which we've dreamed.
If perfect love
would come along
maybe I'd not be worthy
even as I crave
its perfect tones.
So perhaps
I'll substitute
her deserts
with a hand-feeding
of celery sticks
and love-making
in the afternoon.
Humm,
does that work?
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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