Related quotes: you go around your room...

At A Certain Point In Your Life

you go around
your room
and then to the kitchen

you look carefully
on each object
that you see

the rexona deodorant,
the knife,
the garlic and the onions
some rice grains
on the sink

you look at them
and they are all messy
you even think
the deodorant's place
is not in the kitchen

there are wrong
placements and you
want them changed
by you
you want something
proper
things in their places

you simply look
at each of them
and they are all alive
talking to you

they know
you do not have the time anymore
and they are so sorry for you
saying
goodbye

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

Change Your Deodorant, Oh God!

Change my heart O God
Make it ever true
Change my heart O God
May I be like you

You are the potter and I am the clay
Mold me and make me
This is what I pray

Change my heart O God
Make it ever true
Change my heart O God
May I be like you

You are the potter and I am the clay
Mold me and make me
This is what I pray

Change my heart O God
Make it ever true
Change my heart O God
May I be like you

1982 Eddie Espinosa Mercy Publishing

My rewrite of the song above, Change My Heart O God, by Eddie Espinosa

Change your deodorant, oh God!
'Cause you stink to high heaven
Oh baby, you know that it's true
You just gotta
Gotta change your deodorant, oh God!
'Cause I really really can't stand anymore
The rotting stench of you

Honestly, hon, you smell like you just got finished smoking pot
Or taking part in some down and dirty sex play
When you walk past me
Honestly, you make me
So ill that I fall to my knees and start to pray

2009 Ramona Thompson

poem by Ramona Thompson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Too Many Cooks In The Kitchen

Theres too many cooks in the kitchen
Theres too many minds on the job
Theres too many cooks in the kitchen
Everybody wants a piece of the action
Cooking the books and getting their fractions wrong
What we need is law and order
Everybody knows
Cant have chiefs without the injuns
Stepping on their toes
Theres too many cooks in the kitchen
Theres too many daps in the pie
Theres too many cooks in the kitchen
Everybody needs a place in the rat race
Playing games of power, its only a cat chase
Too many too many too many etc.
Too many cooks in the kitchen
[by the colonel]

song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cook Of The House

Ground rice, sugar, vinegar, seco salt, macaroni too,
Cook of the house,
Im the cook of the house.
No matter where I serve my guests,
They seem to like the kitchen best cause Im the cook of the house,
Cook of the house.
The salads in the bowl,
The rice is on the stove.
Green beans in the colander and where the res is heaven only knows.
Cinnamon, garlic, salt, pepper, corn-bread, curry powder, coffee too,
Cook of the house,
Im the cook of the house.
No, matter where I serve my guests,
They seem to like the kitchen best.
cause Im the cook of the house,
Cook of the house.
Where the rest is heaven only knows.
Matter where I serve my guests,
They seem to like the kitchen best cause Im the cook of the house.
Cook of the house,
Cook of the house,
Im the cook of the house.

song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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432

When You Got In
I Went Out
Such Is The Wrong Timing
Of Your
Compassion

Then We Talk
About The Proper Timing
Of Our Desires

You Set The Time, The Place, And The Mood
Now It Is Not Just Desire But
Love

Yes, Love,
But Sometimes I Still Wonder
What Love Is
When Two People Meet At The Proper Time
The Proper Place, And The Proper Mood

When Everything Seems Right
And Yet
Feels So Wrong
When Everything Is Supposedly Proper
And Yet
There Is Still This
Feeling Of Impropriety

I Am 48 Years Old And You Are 49
And I Am Just Asking
When We All Want To Be Inside The Room Of
Ecstacy

And Yet
They All Want Us
Out

Just Because They Also Feel
That The Timing May Be Right
But It Simply Does Not
Look All Right

And Then You Are A Little
Bit Irritated And You Ask
Finally

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I got very cross with the term, kitchen sink. It just meant that you invaded different kinds of houses, where it was very difficult to avoid kitchen sink.

quote by Timothy West
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wrong Timing

when you got in
i went out
such is the wrong timing
of your
compassion

then we talk
about the proper timing
of our desires

you set the time, the place, and the mood
now it is not just desire but
love

yes, love,
but sometimes i still wonder
what love is
when two people meet at the proper time
the proper place, and the proper mood

when everything seems right
and yet
feels so wrong
when everything is supposedly proper
and yet
there is still this
feeling of impropriety

i am 48 years old and you are 49
and i am just asking
when we all want to be inside the room of
ecstacy

and yet
they all want us
out

just because they also feel
that the timing may be right
but it simply does not
look all right

and then you are a little bit irritated and you ask
finally:

why do you talk too much?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Whole Mess... Almost

I ran up six flights of stairs
to my small furnished room
opened the window
and began throwing out
those things most important in life

First to go, Truth, squealing like a fink:
'Don't! I'll tell awful things about you!'
'Oh yeah! Well, I've nothing to hide… OUT!'
Then went God, glowering & whimpering in amazement:
'It's not my fault! I'm not the cause of it all!' 'OUT!'
Then Love, cooing bribes: 'You'll never know impotency!
All the girls on Vogue covers, all yours!'
I pushed her fat ass out and screamed:
'You always end up a bummer!'
I picked up Faith Hope Charity
all three clinging together:
'Without us you'll surely die!'
'With you I'm going nuts! Goodbye!'

The Beauty… ah, Beauty--
As I led her to the window
I told her: 'You I loved the best in life
…but you're a killer; Beauty kills!'
Not really meaning to drop her
I immediately ran downstairs
getting there just in time to catch her
'You saved me!' she cried
I put her down and told her: 'Move on.'

Went back up those six flights
went to the money
there was no money to throw out.
The only thing left in the room was Death
hiding beneath the kitchen sink:
'I'm not real!' It cried
'I'm just a rumor spread by life…'
Laughing I threw it out, kitchen sink and all
and suddenly realized Humor
was all that was left--
All I could do with Humor was to say:
'Out the window with the window!'

poem by Gregory Corso
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Patience, Patience

the child with a black coat
on this cold day
sits there beside a brick
church of spanish
architecture

the yard is quiet except
for the sound of the flapping
of doves feedind on some
rice grains

the boy has a black hair
and his feet are stained with
mud his fingers dirty with
some sticky sauce

he spreads the rice grains
from his palm to the
muddy grounds

the doves hover and land
on the spot where the grains
are freely spread

he sits with them
surrounded

the doves are watching him
and he watches carefully each
dove that eyes on his grains

he likes to snatch just one
to bring home to mother

the doves are too careful
it is just the rice grains nothing more

eye to eye
both wait for what shall happen next

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Agony

And in spoonful oil
Kitchen is busy frying
Mustard and lentils two tablespoons each
And chillies hundred grams
And a pack of cigar or raw tobacco
In added two tablespoons of oil
Then to grind with lemon size tamarind, salt
To make tobacco chutney

And the water soaked tobacco
Kitchen is busy grinding
With salt and cashews handful
To make balls, be deep fried in oil
Be added to a masala tomato puree
To make tobacco kofta curry

And to the cooked rice
Kitchen is busy seasoning
With fried clove, cardamom, and cinnamon
Onion and ginger-garlic paste, salt
Sauted well with flavoured tobacco
Then to garnish with cut cigar pieces
To make tobacco biryani

Tobacco chutney, tobacco curry
Tobacco biryani..what next..
Forgotten Kitchen hurrying
To make more koftas
Be put in sugar syrup
To make tobacco jamuns

Then you see, exhausted Kitchen
Under the wildly running fan rests
Wildly coughing out
Her heart despite its rapidness
Awaiting patiently her lover
Who's been chained to her delicious cooking

poem by Indira Renganathan
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Something Interseting Sestina #1

as long as you live, there is love
but in the recceses rise hate
all these words I draw with passion
with nothig to support me, except my faith
but to others my philosophy seems fake
so I go eat in a kitchen

build me a broken kitchen
that can be worsen by love
a kitchen that make all truth fake
one that is made whole with hate.
There I can vehemently laugh at those with faith,
there I have no time for passion

I have no time for you because you have no time for me dear passion
that's why you can't be a recipe in my kitchen
an the essence in my food is not threw faith
don't love
lie, loath, be livid, and hate
understand such rules with sincerity, don't be fake

yes I say that because the mind of the world is fake
no true passion
much mocked hate
but all is genuine and true in my kitchen
no false love
and lots of thrawted faith

tried faith
and to others this isn't fake
the situation is as real as love
and love as real as unforgiven passion
and both passion and love will destory my uncanny kitchen
which is established by raw hate

that word hate
miss understood by those that don't know the meaning of its faith
but all my creations thrives on it in my kitchen
and yes I will assure you no thing is fake
plus all creations are made without passon
and all creations in my kitchen are mained by love

So come in with hate, and finally take in all creation that's not fake
renew and change your faith, and here make lame all passion
in my kitchen, the place that no one love.

poem by Victoria Lee
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The Battle

Dames should be doomed to dungeons
Who masticate raw onions.

She was the cuddly kind of Miss
A man can love to death;
But when I sought to steal a kiss
I wilted from a breath
With onion odour so intense
I lost my loving sense.

Yet she was ever in my thought
Like some exotic flower,
And so a garlic bulb I bought
And chewed it by the hour;
Then when we met I thrilled to see
'Twas she who shrank from me.

So breath to breath we battled there,
To dominate each other;
And though her onions odious were,
My garlic was a smother;
Till loth I said: 'If we would kiss
Let's call an armistice.

'Now we have proved that we are true
To our opinions,
My garlic I'll give up if you
Give up your onions.'
And so next day with honey sips
How sweet her lips!

poem by Robert William Service
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My Grandmother

When she would talk about her mother,
it was as though there were another person in the room

She could see her mother in her mind;
It was as if my grandmother was dancing across the kitchen floor

It was as if she were talking about an imaginary person
who was not in the room

Her mother was in her mind

My mother was standing on the kitchen floor, cleaning a glass, and thinking of my grandmother

I could see it through the silence

poem by Samuel Stuart Pennell
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What is happening to you?

I find it strange how we stopped making new beginnings
With our two hands we grope no light, with your ring finger
You snap a fly and there it dies with nobody mourning,
With your eye you touch a stone
And throw it to the sky. How strong are your thoughts today?
How crazy, how messy.
In the kitchen with your knife
You slice more onions amazed that you will shed no tears,
Proud about your long stares
Staying on the stairs

Just beside your apron a cockroach is crawling
On used tissue paper. And a fish is leaping like a frog
Like a dove just struck a window and
Fell to the ground. Soiled bleeding heart. You are always busy asking-
Why is this why is that? There is no end to your murmur.
You’re making heat where ice is frozen, making
Pancakes when there is no electricity in the oven

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fury Of Cooks

Herbs, garlic,
cheese, please let me in!
Souffles, salad,
Parker House rolls,
please let me in!
Cook Helen,
why are you so cross,
why is your kitchen verboten?
Couldn't you just teach me
to bake a potato,
to bake a potato,
that charm,
that young prince?
No! No!
This is my county!
You shout silently.
Couldn't you just show me
the gravy. How you drill it out
of the stomach of that bird?
Helen, Helen,
let me in,
let me feel the flour,
is it blinding and frightening,
this stuff that makes cakes?
Helen, Helen,
the kitchen is your dog
and you pat it
and love it
and keep it clean.
But all these things,
all these dishes of things
come through the swinging door
and I don't know from where?
Give me some tomato aspic, Helen!
I don't want to be alone.

poem by Anne Sexton
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Savoury effects

some writers write
as if they have all the
kitchen ware in their hands
so that when you read their work
you actually feel the ladle, the
frying pan, the egg beater,
the tweezers, the funnel,
can opener, rice cooker,
balloon whisk, apple slicer,
garlic press, grater,
and all imaginable tupperware
thrown right at your face
and when you ask him why,
'well, ' he conceitedly says,
'that's for their savoury effects.'

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bleeding

Stop bleeding said the knife
I would if I could said the cut.
Stop bleeding you make me messy with the blood.
I'm sorry said the cut.
Stop or I will sink in farther said the knife.
Don't said the cut.
The knife did not say it couldn't help it but
it sank in farther.
If only you didn't bleed said the knife I wouldn't
have to do this.
I know said the cut I bleed too easily I hate
that I can't help it I wish I were a knife like
you and didn't have to bleed.
Well meanwhile stop bleeding will you said the knife.
Yes you are a mess and sinking in deeper said the cut I
will have to stop.
Have you stopped by now said the knife.
I've almost stopped I think.
Why must you bleed in the first place said the knife.
For the same reason maybe that you must do what you
must do said the cut.
I can't stand bleeding said the knife and sank in farther.
I hate it too said the cut I know it isn't you it's
me you're lucky to be a knife you ought to be glad about that.
Too many cuts around said the knife they're
messy I don't know how they stand themselves.
They don't said the cut.
You're bleeding again.
No I've stopped said the cut see you are coming out now the
blood is drying it will rub off you'll be shiny again and clean.
If only cuts wouldn't bleed so much said the knife coming
out a little.
But then knives might become dull said the cut.
Aren't you still bleeding a little said the knife.
I hope not said the cut.
I feel you are just a little.
Maybe just a little but I can stop now.
I feel a little wetness still said the knife sinking in a
little but then coming out a little.
Just a little maybe just enough said the cut.
That's enough now stop now do you feel better now said the knife.
I feel I have to bleed to feel I think said the cut.
I don't I don't have to feel said the knife drying now
becoming shiny.

poem by May Swenson
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Success is a great deodorant.

quote by Elizabeth Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Maya

little brown birds with grey beaks and a patch of black
on their heads
three of them
drinking water on a pond of water created
by the little rain this morning

as i go near them
they all look at me and then in a sudden
they all fly away leaving some ripples in the
muddled pond

i never think of them as my enemies
they all leave at once
i do not have a gun
or a club or a slingshot

what i have in my hands are rice grains, nothing but rice grains
yes, rice grains for all of them

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whipping Something In My Kitchen

When the Sun wakes me up.
And it is at the crack of dawn?
I feel it appropriate,
On some days...
To lay in bed and enjoy it my way.

Using the mind all the time,
Is a 'burning-out-of-mind' doer.
And I had been done...
To be 'done' to do that over again!
With a winning of 'anything' as a destination.

I longer deliver to myself those messages.

When the Sun wakes me up.
And it is at the crack of dawn?
I feel it appropriate,
On some days...
To lay in bed and enjoy it my way.

And do nothing but...
Whatever I wish.
And do nothing but...
Nibble a bit.
And do nothing but...
Chip and dip!
If I'm not whipping up,
Something in the kitchen.

Or do nothing but...
Whatever I wish.
And do nothing but...
Nibble a bit.
And do nothing but...
Chip and dip!
If I'm not whipping up,
Something in the kitchen.

Using the mind all the time,
Is a 'burning-out-of-mind' doer.
And I had been done...
To be 'done' to do that over again!
With a 'I Have To Win' attitude.

I longer deliver to myself those messages.

When the Sun wakes me up.
And it is at the crack of dawn?
I feel it appropriate,
On some days...
To lay in bed and enjoy it my way.

And do nothing but...
Whatever I wish.
And do nothing but...
Nibble a bit.
And do nothing but...
Chip and dip!
If I'm not whipping up,
Something in the kitchen.

Or do nothing but...
Whatever I wish.
And do nothing but...
Nibble a bit.
And do nothing but...
Chip and dip!
If I'm not whipping up,
Something in the kitchen.

I wish you could see me whipping something in my kitchen.
I wish you could see me whipping something in my kitchen.
I wish you could see me whipping something in my kitchen.
I wish you could see me.
I wish you could see me,
I wish you could see me whipping something in my kitchen.
I wish you could see me whipping something in my kitchen.
I wish you could see me whipping something in my kitchen.
I wish you could see me.
I wish you could see me,
I wish you could see me whipping something in my kitchen.
I wish you could see me whipping something in my kitchen.
I wish you could see me whipping something in my kitchen.
I wish you could see me.
I wish you could see me,
Right now!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rat In Mi Kitchen

(chorus)
There's a rat in me kitchen what am I gonna do?
There's a rat in me kitchen what am I gonna go?
I'm gonna fix that rat thats what i'm gonna do,
I'm gonna fix that rat.
When you open your mouth you don't talk, you shout
And you give every body the blame,
But when they catch you up,
They will shut you up
And you got no one to blame
(chorus)
There's a rat in me kitchen ........
When you out on the street,
You practice lies and deceipt
And you scandalize my name
But when I catch you up
I'm gonna pull you up
I'm gonna check-out inside your brain
(chorus)
There's a rat in me kitchen .......
When yo deh pon the scene,
You make everyone scream
Because they know your so unjust
But when they catch you up
They will kick you up
Because you someone they cannot trust
(chorus)
There's a rat in me kitchen .......
You invade my space
Make me feel disgraced
And you just don't give a damn
If I had my way
If I had my say
I'd like to see you hang
(chorus)
There's a rat in me kitchen .....
(repeat chorus and fade)

song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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En.Citatepedia®.ro

At A Certain Point In Your Life

Related quotes

Change Your Deodorant, Oh God!

Too Many Cooks In The Kitchen

Cook Of The House

432

Wrong Timing

The Whole Mess... Almost

Patience, Patience

Agony

Something Interseting Sestina #1

The Battle

My Grandmother

What is happening to you?

The Fury Of Cooks

Savoury effects

Bleeding

Maya

Whipping Something In My Kitchen

Rat In Mi Kitchen

En.Citatepedia^®.ro