The Gift Of The Magi: Wedding Anniversary
she went to the market
then back to the kitchen
and cooked spaghetti
the table is set
green mantle, silver spoon and fork
silk hands
i went to the school and had
a legal lecture on
divorce and its consequences
in Philippine setting
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Rainbow Spaghetti
One day mother said to me,
'What do you want to eat? '
I answered back to her,
'Rainbow spaghetti'
So my mother waited for the rain
And went outside with her boots
She grabbed the rainbow in a puddle
And walked back inside
She cooked some spaghetti
And told me to stir the rainbow
So I put the rainbow in a bowl
And stirred it with a spoon
Mother took the rainbow
And poured it over the spaghetti
She gave it to me to eat
With a fork and a spoon
I ate it
And chewed it
And slurped it
And swallowed it
'How does it taste? '
Mother asked me
I answered back to her
'It tastes like spaghetti'
poem by Tessa Marshall
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Things Do Not Seem To Be Them After A Careful Seeing
a spoon
and a fork and they seem to appear
with food on a silver platter
when we talk we talk like poets now
after years
a spoon is no longer just a spoon
and neither is the fork
and neither is the food the food that we
eat on the table
and neither is the silver platter a mere
silver platter as it seems to be
for a spoon may be me and i may also be
a tongue and i could be a tongue to your
fork, a protrusion that stabs me like a knife
and the silver platter could be our mind
a garden where we put every seed
and the table and the cloth that covers it
with leaves and flowers
myabe our worlds, covered and uncovered
with some intricate designs
this could be our world now. a world of poems
where everything is a roll of sensitive skin
a mind so fertile with its array of metaphors
and similes and
exaggerations, and these make us so happy
we tiptoe, we choose the word, we equate
every object to a meaning, we dance to a lot
of its nuances, and then we touch and then
we are so silent. we choose not to hurt.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Born Without A Silver Spoon
I was born without a silver spoon.
On a raining day in the month of june.
We lived in a face me and face you,
it was a crowded neighbourhood.
Born without a silver spoon.
To have a three square meal
is like wishing for the moon.
Many times we bed the night,
cold night without food.
Without a silver spoon.
My father struggled me through school.
Primary, secondary and university
education i made it through.
A silver spoon.
My wish which must come true.
For i dream of it everday.
Think about those moves i'll make.
Praying to God for steps to take.
Though i was born without
silver spoon.
Yet if heaven be true,
my family's pain will not be vain.
I was born without a silver spoon
shall be erased.
To my generations it shall be a tale.
And only a silver spoon shall remain.
poem by Enebeli Ifyprada
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A Little Sunshine
a grain of rice
on a table cloth
beside
a cup of hot
coffee
imperceptible
but when a connection is found
soon
the spoon and fork
shall understand
some pieces
no matter what
do not fit
on a reasonable landscape
what is the grain of rice
doing on a breakfast table?
your mind is furious
i think it is cool
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My grandfather was a chef for a Baron in Sicily before he came to America. I grew up with him. I used to do my homework at one end of the kitchen table while he cooked at the other end.
quote by Vincent Schiavelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lunch Is Ready
you must have read before
that when a man is made to choose
between lunch
and poetry
he must choose lunch
it is 12: 20 noon
and if you wish
please finish this poem for me
make it say something
about hunger
the pinch in the stomach
the lack of guts
the impatience about life
for the meantime
i'll take what is offered on the table
i still have to chew
another idea that is fed in my mind
another poem
shaped like a fried chicken
scents of lumpia shanghai
images of white rice
exuding some fumes in
the light to the ceiling
clinking sounds of silver spoon and fork
and flowing clear drinking water
in the glass
in a whoosh
and the usual conversations
of sweet nothings
displayed on the table
like a soup
of bird's nest
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Back To School.
Back to school, my mind in good mood. My head enroute for good friuts. Back to school, yes I'm back for good. Don't be a fool dear, it's not just a virtual school of paper-books, it's a school of the mind, a school of thinking. Oh yes! My own school of thought. Every day is schooling, where you are is your lecture room, Life its' self is the teacher. School closes when we close our eyes, either in sleep or in SLEEP. Which ever way it closes, it yet continues on the other side. For there, we shall learn all that we failed while still LIFE's pupils.
poem by Darlington Chukwunyere
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High School is like a spork: it's a crappy spoon and a crappy fork, so in the end it's just plain useless.
quote by John Mayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Culinary choice
He was a lover of meat
and she was a lover of veg'
so between them it was a treat
to dine on spaghetti instead.
They'd suck and they'd slurp
and they'd dribble,
spaghetti was so hard to nibble
but low and behold
the sauce made a glow
all over their chins
and the table.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Breakfast Is Ready (2)
breakfast is ready
we sit on our designated seats
we pray
we put our hands on the table
we take the spoon and fork
and knife
slice the cheese, break the bread
sip the coffee, chew,
no spitting, swallow
no choking
in here there is an implied admission
of hunger, thirst, and
emptiness.
we say the words thanks after,
amen to the next thirst and hunger.
conversations there are cliches.
but i admit, i dont give a damn now, nothing really matters.
i always say a little prayer for you.
Before i leave.I do not have to tell you.
honest.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sex In The Kitchen
Girl you're in the kitchen
Cooking me a meal
Something makes me wanna come in there and get a feel
Walk around in your t-shirt
Nothing else on
Strutting pass, switching that ass while I'm on the phone
Cutting up tomatoes, fruits and vegetables and potatoes
Girl, you look so sexy while you're doing the damn thang
I want
Sex in the kitchen over by the stove
Put you on the counter by the buttered rolls
Hands on the table, on your tippy toes
We'll be making love like the restaurant was closed
How would you like it, baby
(How would you like that?)
Tell me right now pretty baby
Hey man, I'm gon call you back
Girl you're in the kitchen, chillin in your robe
I'm saying to myself she better go put on some clothes
Tickling and teasing
Doing that little dance
Girl, you gon make me lay you down and give it to you one mo 'gain
[Chorus 2x]
Girl I'm ready to toss your salad
While I'm making love, I'll be feasting
Girl you're in the kitchen
Sweating up a storm
The oven's on 500
So you know the kitchen's warm
Girl you know just how to get into a brother's mind
Cause here we are still in this kitchen
Doing it for the third time
[Chorus (fades out)]
song performed by by R. Kelly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mother and Marbles
Mum coming back from the market
Loading the little rickety trishaw
Well known in our little town
A shaky ride for fifty cents
My sweet childhood memories..
Lettuce, cabbage and straw
Bound paper-wrapped pork
Each bundle I helped
Carry to the kitchen table
The bond of mum and child
Sealed from mum's reward
Of an apple or a pear
From the market or a ten-cent
Coin for me to purchase
My next bundle of marbles
Which all still stand quietly
In a milo can in the storeroom
Each a different hue to
Colour the thoughts of
Those love-coated days
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Sex In The Kitchen (remix)
Girl, you're in the kitchen
Cooking me a meal
Something makes me wanna come in there and get a feel
Walk around in your t-shirt
Nothing else on
Strutting past, switching that ass while I'm on the phone
Cutting up tomatoes, fruits and vegetables and potatoes
Girl, you look so sexy while you're doing the damn thang that
I want
Sex in the kitchen, over by the stove
Put you on the counter by the buttered rolls
Hands on the table, on your tippy toes
We'll be making love like the restaurant was closed
How would you like it, baby
(would you like that)
Tell me right now, pretty baby
Hey man, I'm gon' call you back
Girl, you're in the kitchen, chillin' in your robe
I'm saying to myself, "She better go put on some clothes"
Tickling and teasing, doing that little dance
Girl, you gon' make me lay you down
And give it to you one mo 'gain
[chorus 2x]
Girl, I'm ready to toss your salad
While I'm making love, I'll be feasting
Girl, you're in the kitchen
Sweating up a storm
The oven's on five hundred
So you know the kitchen's warm
Girl, you know just how to get into a brother's mind
Cause here we are still in this kitchen
Doing it for the third time
[chorus till fade]
song performed by by R. Kelly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Found My Way
you cook so well
and i am so
anticipating about
the new menu
on the white
porcelain plate
beside the
silver spoon
and fork
and the corrugated
knife fit for
the medium rare
steak
more rice please
more lemonades
and lots of
lettuce for the
salad
a ripe mango
and alligator
pear
on a platter
lady, you found your
way into
my belly.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Objector
In line at lunch I cross my fork and spoon
to ward off complicity--the ordered life
our leaders have offered us. Thin as a knife,
our chance to live depends on such a sign
while others talk and The Pentagon from the moon
is bouncing exact commands: "Forget your faith;
be ready for whatever it takes to win: we face
annihilation unless all citizens get in line."
I bow and cross my fork and spoon: somewhere
other citizens more fearfully bow
in a place terrorized by their kind of oppressive state.
Our signs both mean, "You hostages over there
will never be slaughtered by my act." Our vows
cross: never to kill and call it fate.
poem by William Stafford
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Mrs. Lennon
Mrs. lennon, o' mrs. lennon,
Checking the sky to see if there's no clouds.
There's no clouds,
O' then, i guess it must be alright.
Mrs. lennon, o' mrs. lennon,
Making the tea and watching the sea.
There's no waves,
O' then, i guess it must be alright.
Silver spoon, o' silver spoon,
I lost my silver spoon.
And our children, o' our children,
Did they have to go to war?
Yes, my love, it's okay,
Half the world is always killed you know.
Husband john extended his hand,
Extended his hand to his wife.
And he finds, and suddenly he finds
That he has no hands.
They've lost their bodies!
They've lost their bodies!
Yes, they lost their bodies.
Neither of them, o' neither of them
Never left each other.
Yes, my love, it's okay,
Half the world is always dying you know.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Last Poem Shall Tinker With Mood And Meaning
silence silenced, and dreams dreamt,
and the speaker that listens upon the beatings of his heart
like a little drum inside his chest.
it is this resounding. this re-echoing
that like a spoon and knife to a porcelain plate
tinkers with the meat and beans,
segregating, and choosing little things
in colors and smell, and swallowing some and
throwing out the rest of what we
like to have inside us. sorrow and pain.
joy and bliss. yours and mine. you and i.
these are categories that we see and feel,
and care and care less and choose.
we tinker with mood. we like always to choose,
and discriminate, the spoon is a spoon and the fork is a fork.
and the knife that cuts,
we are careful enough. There is meaning now.
Blood drops out from your veins, and some beans
turn red. You cull out, what you want to believe.
you leave and carry with you
what is painless. That is as simple as that.
more or less, either/or. write the name of the person
that you love. Burn those that hurt you. Close the door.
Open the window. See the sun. And let always the moon
to kiss you by your window. It does not know what a door is.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Silver Spoon
I aint lookin like nobodys fool, save it for somebody else
And I aint makin any desperate move, till Im satisfied myself
I aint waitin for no invitation, I just wanna walk on thru
I never needed anybody, and like my daddy said
Chorus:
I wasnt born with a silver spoon, nowhere to hide in a crowded room
I see the attitude thats in your eyes, I got no reason to apologize
cos whats so special bout a girl like you, with a silver spoon
In a city where the buildings rise, I was just another face
But mama told me when somebody dies, no one else can take your place
I never needed anybody, and like my daddy said
I wasnt born with a silver spoon, nowhere to hide in a crowded room
I see the attitude thats in your eyes, I got no reason to apologize
cos Ive got something for a girl like you, with a silver spoon
I always knew Id be somebody, I kept it in my head
I never needed anybody, and like my daddy said
Chorus...
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Is There A Legal Ground
Is there a legal ground?
One can stand on to feel safe and sound.
Is there a legal ground?
One that can be found that's not shaking around.
Is there a legal ground?
One that is near,
Not to be feared...
And if one should fall,
A solidness is clear!
Is there a legal ground?
Anywhere.
One understood.
One that is shared.
Is there a legal ground?
One that is cemented...
Making feelings of it different,
With a jumping up and down...
Packing heavy weighted pounds.
Is there a legal ground?
Around...
To be found!
Is there a legal ground?
Around...
To be found.
Is there a legal ground?
Around...
To be found.
Is there a legal ground?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Just Beyond The Setting Sun
Just beyond the setting sun
lies a land where green leaves grow.
Just beyond the setting sun
seasons different come and go.
A warmly place
of peace and tranquillity.
Just beyond the setting sun
lies a home for you and me.
A place of no worries
where life is idyllic
to spawn generations to come,
warm in the summer sun
and cool as winter comes.
Just beyond the setting sun
lies a home we always wanted,
a paradise of beauty,
fulfilment and tranquillity.
Just beyond the setting sun
where our dreams come from.
There within those pastures green
lies our future destiny,
just over the horizon,
just beyond the setting sun.
26 July 2009
poem by David Harris
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