Dewi Sri, the Goddes of Rice
In the frontyard and leftside of my grandpa house
When the padi harvests and holiday came
I certainly went to my grandpahouse
Where before and after the harvests we have a religiousmale together
We pray and praise the Lord
Through the smoke of incense up and up to the sky
And the wind brought its to people around the village
For avoiding disaster and thanks to
Dewi Sri, the Goddes of Rice (fertility goddes)
My partjob is waiting the rice in the place for drying
firewood, from morning till evening
Till its rice and firewood to become dry
While I saw some people were paced back and forth over the path
Beside my grandpahouse
To carry padis on the back after the harvest
With pureface
After they got part of their work during threemonth
In the ricefields
Wheter they have and havenot the ricefield
When I am boring for waiting
I called the people who sell the sugarcandy
I Change its with my grandma rice
When teh eveing came I feel tired
waiting the rice dried the whole day
my grandma brought torch made from coconut leafe
went to uncle Amat Sirat
Where his wife able to massage while her whusband work in the ricefield
Malam istrinya memijat kakiku yang pegel, ototku yang kaku,
At that night she massages my foot who feel tired
After the holiday finish
I turnback to the town
Back to school
(Bogor 23 Juni 2005) .
poem by Prasetya Utama
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Day I Hate Rice
The day I hate rice
Is several rare day in a year
When I don't eat rice
I don't want to eat rice
I don't want to see it
Because I hate its taste
And I hate to think about it
If I have the day I hate rice
Then you'll know that I don't feel well
I'm bored of this procession
I want to run from this life
Because I begin to hate myself
...just a little while
And everything will be back to normal again
That's the meaning of
The day I hate rice
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Dont Want To Throw Rice
She married the one I love today
When my back was turned she took him away
Now while theyre all outside, waiting to throw rice
What I want to throw will surely black her eyes
cause I dont want to throw rice
I want to throw rocks at her
She took the only love I had
No, I dont want to throw rice
I want to throw rocks at her
It would be a way to hurt her cause she hurt me so bad
Well I never stole nothin in my life
But if I get the chance Ill steal him from his wife
cause all is fair in love and war, maybe Im carryin this too far
But I feel like tying dynamite to her side of the car
No I dont want to throw rice
I want to throw rocks at her
She took the only love I had
No, I dont want to throw rice
I want to throw rocks at her
It would be a way to hurt her cause she hurt me so bad
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Varied Menu
Chicken and rice.
Fish and rice.
Rice and chicken.
Rice and fish.
Varied menu - 'ish!
Nice jungle place.
There's plenty of space.
Fresh clean air
But that dietary pair,
Fish or chicken
.....Not again!
So more trekking with a frown
Back to Georgetown.....
poem by George BernardBloodyShaw
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MAMMA'S BAKED CHICKEN AND RICE...by Talile Ali
YOU DON'T KNOW HOW SPECIAL AND NICE
I FELT ABOUT MAMMA'S CHICKEN AND RICE
BUT FOR ME AT THE TIME IT WAS BEYOND PRICE
EVERY DAY MAMMA'S CHICKEN AND RICE
WHEN I WAS SICK AND NEEDED YOUR CARE
WITHOUT GATTING A LASH CHICKEN AND RICE WAS THERE
THE DOCTORS TOLD YOU BLAND, AND THAT WAS FINE BY ME
CHICKEN AND RICE MADE BLAND SPECIAL FOR ALL TO SEE
AT FIRST AFTER DAY'S OF HAVING THIS SERVED TO ME
I WAS PISSED AS HELL TILL I HAD A TALK WITH MY BUDDY
EVERY DAY HE'D COME OVER TO GET ME TO PLAY
AND HE'D SEE ME FINISHING MY CHICKEN AND RICE EVERY DAY
HE SAID THAT YOUR MOMMA MUST REALLY LOVE YOU
SHE MAKES THAT EVERY DAY, AND ON THE WEEK ENDS TO
SHE GOES IT SO QUICKLY AND IT SMELLS SO GOOD
YOUR MOMMA MUST REALLY LOVE, I WISH MY MOMMY WOULD
I LOOKED AT MY BUDDY AND SAW IN HIS FACE
THE TRUTH AND THE HONESTY ALL PLAIN IN PLACE
AND FROM THAT DAY FORWARD I SMILED WHUEN I HEARD
MY MOM CALL MY NAME TO COME EAT THOSE THREE WORDS
CHICKEN AND RICE, CHICKEN AND RICE I SAY
MY MOM MADE THE BEST, IN HER OWN SPECIAL WAY
WHEN EVER I AM FEELING WSPECIALLY NICE
I WOULD ALWAYS FIND AN EXCUSE TO HAVE CHICKEN AND RICE
SO MOMMA, YOU NEEDED TO JUST HERE ME SAY
I APPRECIATE THE LOVE THAT YOU GIVE ME EVERY DAY
AND THOUGH IT MAY SEEM LIKE I AM BEING UNKIND
IF SO, I'M JUST BEING FOOLISH AND MANIPULATIVE THAT TIME
YOU ALWAYS COULD BRING OUT THE BABY IN ME
AND FOR THAT AND THE CARING THIS POEM YOU DID SEED
THANK YOU MOM, DEAR LADY FOR ALL OF THE ABOVE
AND THE CHICKEN AND RICE AND THESE MEMORIES OF LOVE
poem by Talile Ali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mamma's Baked Chicken And Rice
YOU DON'T KNOW HOW SPECIAL AND NICE
I FELT ABOUT MAMMA'S CHICKEN AND RICE
BUT FOR ME AT THE TIME IT WAS BEYOND PRICE
EVERY DAY MAMMA'S CHICKEN AND RICE
WHEN I WAS SICK AND NEEDED YOUR CARE
WITHOUT GATTING A LASH CHICKEN AND RICE WAS THERE
THE DOCTORS TOLD YOU BLAND, AND THAT WAS FINE BY ME
CHICKEN AND RICE MADE BLAND SPECIAL FOR ALL TO SEE
AT FIRST AFTER DAY'S OF HAVING THIS SERVED TO ME
I WAS PISSED AS HELL TILL I HAD A TALK WITH MY BUDDY
EVERY DAY HE'D COME OVER TO GET ME TO PLAY
AND HE'D SEE ME FINISHING MY CHICKEN AND RICE EVERY DAY
HE SAID THAT YOUR MOMMA MUST REALLY LOVE YOU
SHE MAKES THAT EVERY DAY, AND ON THE WEEK ENDS TO
SHE GOES IT SO QUICKLY AND IT SMELLS SO GOOD
YOUR MOMMA MUST REALLY LOVE, I WISH MY MOMMY WOULD
I LOOKED AT MY BUDDY AND SAW IN HIS FACE
THE TRUTH AND THE HONESTY ALL PLAIN IN PLACE
AND FROM THAT DAY FORWARD I SMILED WHUEN I HEARD
MY MOM CALL MY NAME TO COME EAT THOSE THREE WORDS
CHICKEN AND RICE, CHICKEN AND RICE I SAY
MY MOM MADE THE BEST, IN HER OWN SPECIAL WAY
WHEN EVER I AM FEELING WSPECIALLY NICE
I WOULD ALWAYS FIND AN EXCUSE TO HAVE CHICKEN AND RICE
SO MOMMA, YOU NEEDED TO JUST HERE ME SAY
I APPRECIATE THE LOVE THAT YOU GIVE ME EVERY DAY
AND THOUGH IT MAY SEEM LIKE I AM BEING UNKIND
IF SO, I'M JUST BEING FOOLISH AND MANIPULATIVE THAT TIME
YOU ALWAYS COULD BRING OUT THE BABY IN ME
AND FOR THAT AND THE CARING THIS POEM YOU DID SEED
THANK YOU MOM, DEAR LADY FOR ALL OF THE ABOVE
AND THE CHICKEN AND RICE AND THESE MEMORIES OF LOVE
poem by Talile Ali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Request To The Dead
I offer this water to you,
my father, grandfather and great grandfather,
and to you, soldiers and generals
who fought for us and who fought against us
and who were killed by this war.
I stand here, on this battlefield,
and give this water and this rice to you—
you must be hungry and thirsty.
Ask for nothing
other than water and rice,
don't add to the long list
of things I was not able to give;
be content with this water and this rice
and return
to wherever you came from.
Consider this: the years
I have spent with you were many;
and this: it will not be long
before I join you wherever you sojourn.
Had I possessed things
other than this water and this rice,
would I have denied them to you
and asked you to return ?
Whatever I have
other than this water and this rice
are surely not appropriate offerings
for departed souls.
True, I traverse everyday of my life
with this baggage of witheld things,
but whenever I look at them
I disintegrate and cry out
with a voice that rends
the heavens
and the underworld.
Tears fill my eyes
when I make this offering
of water and rice.
I know, when my turn comes,
I shall have neither.
Look, the sun has almost set.
Now, go back to wherever you came from
with the little water and the little rice I gave you.
Look, I myself do not have
either any water or any rice.
Look, I have nothing except the few things
I didn't give
and kept with myself.
[Translated by the poet]
poem by Ramakanta Rath
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Inspired by Issa - your rice field, my rice field
your rice field, my rice field
the road between that leads
to our dreams in tokyo
your rice field, my rice field
the road between that leads
to our sons in tokyo
inspired
your rice field
my rice field
the same green
-Issa,1815
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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A Lonely Bird On The Electric Wire
this afternoon i take a walk leading to the farm
it is harvest time
and i see the harvesters cutting the rice stalks filled with golden grains
they would group what they gather at a certain place
mounds and mounds of rice grains this time of a bumper year
on the other side are carabaos grazing
lots of grass to graze adding the recently cut rice stalks
i look at the clouds white and blue and shades of both
my attention is however caught by a single bird perched on the electrical wire connecting two poles about 30 meters apart
it is alone there
and i move closely to see whether it is really a bird
indeed it is one of the sparrows in the ricefield
but so unlike the rest it
it is sitting there alone.
our eyes met.
and i tell my wife about this lonely bird.
she says i am just making a metaphor
i sit alone in my garden now after dining
and i wonder if the bird flew back to its nest or to some territory of its own
where their species also live
and i wonder if the bird must be also telling the other birds that it saw
a man walking alone on that path leading to the farm
and unlike other men he prefers to walk alone
and i also think that perhaps the bird would also take issue about the fact that indeed
our eyes met
and i know the other birds would say
that it is nothing but also a sort of metaphor and to the least that
it is nothing but a kind of fable.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Kali Jali And The Panji Story
Near the “Kali Jali”
The brown water flow
In the Rainy day
Where laid the “getek” were made from bamboo tree
brought the people went from side to another side the river
Bring bycycle, handbag, went to the town
Or the Chinese shop
While I like play on its side the river
Brought by my sister
Who lives in my grandma and grandpa
My big family from father line
Where our ancient family in the backyard
With same place with districthead called Sawunggalig
I like to play there,
When I went home from my holiday
My father were angry because my foot injury
Couldn’t care myself
When I were became of adult people
I know, so many government official
went to that place brought the incense and fire its
and the smoke around up to sky spread promise and hope
still strong and have accessed in their power
To day I don’t know where they run away
or stay behind the incense smoke
in the wall of company and bigest shop
in my town
build the traditional relgious school
hide in the bankriverside,
and the incense smoke,
flow around,
and flow the capital from another country
to every company, shop and charity,
to the mosque, with coruption money.
While I could think only
In the bankriverside, The Lord of Sunan, and ask why Kali Jali
Flow the brown water and not transparent anymore
poem by Prasetya Utama
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Bananas & Cream
(kinky friedman)
Well, a long time ago in old tokyo
By the softly flowing stream
I left her there with the stars in her hair
On the other side of a dream.
Well, I traveled through with a heart full of blue
Never quite making my way
Till I come upon a strawberry blonde
Living in pittsburgh, p.a.
Ah, bananas and rice they used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now its bananas an cream.
I stood hypnotized, I stared in her eyes,
She smiled and I suddenly knew
If I made her my bride then the other side
0f my dream would finally come true.
Ah, bananas and rice they used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now its bananas and cream.
Well, a long time ago in old tokyo
By the softly flowing stream
I left her there with the stars in her hair
On the other side of a dream.
Ah, bananas and rice they used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now its bananas and cream.
Bananas and rice used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now its bananas and cream.
Bananas and rice used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Bananas and rice ...
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bananas And Cream
(Kinky Friedman)
Well, a long time ago in old Tokyo
By the softly flowing stream
I left her there with the stars in her hair
On the other side of a dream.
Well, I traveled through with a heart full of blue
Never quite making my way
Till I come upon a strawberry blonde
Living in Pittsburgh, P.A.
Ah, bananas and rice they used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now it's bananas an cream.
I stood hypnotized, I stared in her eyes,
She smiled and I suddenly knew
If I made her my bride then the other side
0f my dream would finally come true.
Ah, bananas and rice they used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now it's bananas and cream.
Well, a long time ago in old Tokyo
By the softly flowing stream
I left her there with the stars in her hair
On the other side of a dream.
Ah, bananas and rice they used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now it's bananas and cream.
Bananas and rice used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now it's bananas and cream.
Bananas and rice used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Bananas and rice ...
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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October Silk
I liked the rice candy
at the Chinese market
at University Heights
where the Chinese lady
with the blue-black bangs
wrapped Almond cookies
in cellophane packets
where Pork Fried Rice
came in square containers
with no.3 choice of chow mein,
as people lined up out the door
and into the street
Four lanes of heavy bags
of Jasmine rice and Plum paste
of Green tea and rice cakes
and I stumble into the aisle
You like cookies? the Chinese man
asks holding up the small bag,
leaning over the rows of Bok Choy
and loose-packed Snow-peas
The Chinese lady
moves in October silk
she gives me my Rice candy
and a sample of dried Plums,
the fragrant smell of Jasmine
and Vanilla Bean heavy in the air.
poem by Louise Marie DelSanto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walk The Talk
where do you live?
i ask him
'i live there' he says,
pointing to a far place
it is a greenery, a forest opaque to the mist,
there is a path that leads there
on bare feet, and without any burden
to carry on
your back,
he says he is an honest man
and shall live with it for many years to come
he says he comes from a family of honest genealogy
and he thrives on simple living and word of honor
his face has a very gentle disposition
like that of the
common lamb
his words are soft
like a rose that you enclose with your hand
before he left for his intended journey
i had a bowl of rice and a
dried fish in my kitchen
i almost believe him
until my bowl of rice
and dried fish are all gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Simply Like The Word Roost
and its variations,
refer to the latest poem i wrote on the word
ensconce, it is roost that you use, which signifies
about chickens
but honestly i prefer the pegions
which we had
once in my youth
the boy who chased and hit birds
feeding on our rice
drying under the sun
and i did not know what i did
stoning birds and killing them
not really thinking
that they would be happier
and nicer to see
when they are alive
and flying and feeding
on the pavements where
rice is abundant and
it woudl have been more
memorable if i feed
them myself
with rice on my palms
which i never really did
because in my place
a boy is a boy and he must
hit the birds with stones
from his slingshot
until i have seen real birds
and real people shot
and killed on the fields
like birds but
with real ammunitions
from government armalites
and brothers
killing brothers
which really bothers
me a lot
until now
when finally i get tired of thinking
when i simply write
poems and poems, not judgments
not commands, just feelings
like hot and cold, fever and the coldness
of death
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Land Of Dispute
Throughout the years, this fertile ground of all time
produce an abundant rice harvest
but when Cane and Nila had to be planted
with the laws and promises
a bundle of money
measure of welfare change
everything is measured by the amount of money in the bag
in the bank, and the stock trading
Money in the hands of farmers flows like spring water
Their time out to plant sugar cane and Nila
Time to be a little rice,
rice plants were molt
abundant harvest changed complaints
Their well-being such as inhaled
West wind,
disappeared
poem by Prasetya Utama
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It's better for people to wait for rice, than rice for people.
The Wise Giver....
this is your rice cake
i am handing this to you
this is all yours
on these conditions:
you will not eat it
you have to guard it against
the flies and ants
take care of it
do not eat it for i do not allow it
it gets consumed and
then be gone
and that is bad for you
& me
at night
guard it still from mosquitoes
for they bring diseases
see to it that you heat it
in the oven
lest it gets moldy and
become spoiled
against the light
by that oil lamp
the rice cake casts a shadow
on the table
that is what you can eat
that alone
now partake
of my kindness
satisfy your hunger
on that shadow
slice it with a knife
and on small chunks
feed your mouth
nourish your body
till that rice cake is gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Amen, Amen...
for the few grains of rice that i have given you
and for the slice of fish,
God has given me more than what
i have parted,
God has given me a house, a rice granary,
a thousand loaves of bread,
an ocean of fish
plus a book of poems,
plus the nightingale songs
My heart sings praises for Him.
For every grain of rice that i have shared with a hungry neighbor,
God has replenished me with truckloads.
FOR THE FEW cents that i have given as fare for the old woman
who wishes to go home,
God has repaid me money in bundles.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Look Back In Anger
You know who I am, he said
The speaker was an angel
He coughed and shook his crumpled wings
Closed his eyes and moved his lips
Its time we should be going
(waiting so long, Ive been waiting so, waiting so)
Look back in anger, driven by the night
Till you come
(waiting so long, Ive been waiting so, waiting so)
Look back in anger, see it in my eyes
Till you come
No one seemed to hear him
So he leafed through a magazine
And, yawning, rubbed the sleep away
Very sane he seemed to me
(waiting so long, Ive been waiting so, waiting so)
Look back in anger, driven by the night
Till you come
(waiting so long, Ive been waiting so, waiting so)
Look back in anger, feel it in my voice
Till you come
(waiting so long, ahhh...)
(waiting so long, Ive been waiting so, waiting so) (waiting so long, Ive been waiting so, waiting so)
(waiting so long, ahhh...)
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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