Lovely St Lucia! ! !
sun
rum
food
music
orange
yellow
green
whi te
exotic
pleasure
freshness
adve nture
beaches
heritage
natural
be auty
culture
cuisine
history
frie ndly
soothing
begging
enticing
fe eling
thrilling
amazing
stunning
enchanting
experiencing
stimulating
improving
exploring
echoing
embracin g
surrounding
breathtaking
cayenne pepper
okra, squashes
sweet potatoes
corn, beans
outdoor sports
vibrant nightlife
unique activities
paradise on earth
countless restaurants
holiday destination
best-kept secret
golf courses
Sulphur Springs
Anse Chastanet
Anse La Raye
Anse Cochon
Gros Islet
Gros Piton
Ti Kaye Village
Tovaille Waterfall
Morne Coubaril Estate
Fond Doux Estate
Forte Charlotte
Minor Basilica
Marigot Bay
Rodney Bay
Pigeon Island
Almond Morgan Bay
Jazz Performances
Literature Lectures
The Fish Friday
The Carribean
poem by Ahmad Shiddiqi
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Related quotes
My Succotash Is So Bad
My succotash is so bad!
It's the best you'll ever have.
My suc-co-co-co-co-co-co-co tash,
Is bad!
My succotash is so bad!
It's the best you'll ever have.
My suc-co-co-co-co-co-co-co tash,
Is bad!
Take a sauce pan.
And oil it with olive oil.
Not too much.
Add a half cup of water.
With some garlic to taste.
About a tablespoon of brown sugar.
~That's the key ingredient,
For my succotash tastin' so good! ~
Then...
A dash or two of salt and pepper.
I like the heat of cayenne!
How about you?
Simmer this with onion.
I like Vadalias.
Slice a couple of 'garden' tomatos.
Just one green pepper!
Cover this for about ten minutes.
I like my seasonings to get acquainted.
Now...
Take between three and five ears of corn.
Strip the kernels off the cob.
Add them to the mix.
Lower the heat a bit.
You will know when this is ready.
Trust me.
My succotash is so bad!
It's the best you'll ever have.
My suc-co-co-co-co-co-co-co tash,
Is bad!
My succotash is so bad!
It's the best you'll ever have.
My suc-co-co-co-co-co-co-co tash,
Is bad!
My suc-co-co-co-co-co-co-co tash,
Is bad!
Enjoy!
~...we gather together to ask,
the Lord's blessing...~
Note:
A *Narraganset Indian recipe.
Introduced around 1751.
It was then called msickquatash
and was a mixture of lima or shell beans
with green corn cooked together 'originally'.
*American Indian people of Rhode Island
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Sullen Place
Outside the city is a paradise
The sunsets are amazing
Lakes and falls are enchanting
Hills and mountains are green
White ocean beaches are welcoming
Shallow or deep diving is serene
The corals under the waters vibrant
The city of Manila is crowded
Left no room for plants or trees
The streets were never empty
Loud stereos are echoing from a distant
Parents screaming and the children are noisy
Too much noise the city never sleeps
Hardly notice the birds chirp
Like a person with schizophrenia
Philippines has too many faces
Elegance and richness for some
Starvation and homelessness for few
Being away is nice and grand
But not able to go back is sad
The place is definitely love and hate
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Golf courses sell real estate and that's why they're built.
quote by Ed McMahon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am Happy Now
She came to me at last
and I am happy now
I bask in afterglow of love
and I am happy now.
She came to me in night
in magic of a starlit night
full moon shining bright
an enchanting full moon night.
Wearing a sexy, little summer dress
perfumed, bright eyed, seductive now
looking, vibrant stunning; enticing temptress,
allured, bewitched, beguiled; I am happy now.
She wore a sexy, little summer dress
showing off curves, of exposed naked flesh
and perfume, of anticipating; sexual suspense
and I am happy now, I am happy now in flesh.
The memory of this sensual spicy night
shines radiant clear and brilliant bright,
memory of her intoxicating boundless love
shines brighter, than all burning stars above.
In summer love springs water that flows
from a sweet secret mountain stream,
from a hidden cliff in surrounding rocks
where I have, pleasantly swimming been.
I love the fair forest that grows
near this secret mountain stream,
with these sweet memories dreams
I am happy, contemplating beauty seen.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Heart Of A City
In this city excitement happens everyday,
No two days play out the same,
For the nightlife is cool to the extreme,
Where sometimes gangs play their games,
But most people just congregate in the city's bars,
As they listen to jazz, rock and all kinds of music,
For this is the heart of a city,
And car follows car: sometimes picking up hookers,
Yet usually on their way to the colourful nightlife,
To chat, laugh and dance throughout the night,
And sometimes - yes - there are fights,
But whatever goes on, no one seems to care,
Gangs of girls tottering on their high heels,
And young men drinking beer from cans,
And this is paradise, this is life,
And the city buzzes with people,
All searching for inner truth,
Trying to find somewhere to replace their stolen youth,
But soon the night will turn to morning,
And a vibrant new day will begin,
Lovers untangling themselves in their bedroom sheets,
To shower and drink coffee and orange juice,
Slowly waking from last night's alcoholic spell.
poem by by unknown author
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Women's harvest song
I am waving a ripe sunflower,
I am scattering sunflower pollen to the four world-quarters.
I am joyful because of my melons,
I am joyful because of my beans,
I am joyful because of my squashes.
The sunflower waves.
So did the corn wave
When the wind blew against it,
So did my white corn bend
When the red lightning descended upon it,
It trembled as the sunflower
When the rain beat down its leaves.
Great is a ripe sunflower,
And great was the sun above my corn-fields.
His fingers lifted up the corn-ears,
His hands fashioned my melons,
And set my beans full in the pods.
Therefore my heart is happy
And I will lay many blue prayer-sticks at the shrine of Ta-wa.
I will give corn to Ta-wa,
Yellow corn, blue corn, black corn.
I wave the sunflower,
The sunflower heavy with pollen.
I wave it, I turn it, I sing,
Because I am happy.
poem by Amy Lowell
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A Rainbow Is...
A Rainbow Is
A Rainbow is
Undeniably a natural beauty,
Appearing at times mysteriously.
Seven colors of grandeur rare,
As the sun touches droplets in the air.
From earth’s showers or waterfall spray,
Opposite the sun… appearing in the day.
A Rainbow is
Arrayed brilliantly in colors glow,
Canvassed in the sky as a beauty bow.
Red, orange, yellow, green, indigo, blue,
Violet and others hidden from our view.
A Masterpiece! A sign of mercy we know,
This and more is seen in the Rainbow.
A Rainbow is…
Radiant!
Amazing!
Indescribable!
Natural!
Beautiful!
Observably
Wonderful!
Not reproducible by mortal man,
But, created by the Maker’s hands.
More than treasure or pots of gold,
All this and more is the Rainbow.
poem by Loyd C. Taylor
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And we will call it Britain
Crisp green the stems of daffodils
That brave in spring cold sun
Soft tender green the hawthorn buds
Unfurled with winter done
Bright green the fresh leaves on the limes
That verdant branches lace
Dark green the lily’s slender shoot
That moist earth, piercing breaks
But greenest of all that is green
An island Earth did make
And we will call it Britain
Natures green estate
poem by Egal Bohen
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Roger-Bontemps
Aux gens atrabilaires
Pour exemple donne,
En un temps de miseres
Roger-Bontemps est ne.
Vivre obscur a sa guise,
Narguer les mecontens;
Eh gai! c'est la devise
Du gros Roger-Bontemps.
Du chapeau de son pere
Coiffe dans les grands jours,
De roses ou de lierre
Le rajeunir toujours;
Mettre un manteau de bure,
Vieil ami de vingt ans;
Eh gai! c'est la parure
Du gros Roger-Bontemps.
Posseder dans en hutte
Une table, un vieux lit,
Des cartes, une flute,
Un broc que Dieu remplit;
Un portrait de maitresse,
Un coffre et rien dedans;
Eh gai! c'est la richesse
Du gros Roger-Bontemps.
Aux enfans de la ville
Montrer de petite jeux;
Etre fesseur habile
De contes graveleux;
Ne parler que de danse
Et d'almanachs chantans:
Eh gai! c'est la science
Du gros Roger-bontemps.
Faute de vins d'elite,
Sabler ceux du canton:
Preferer Marguerite
Aux dames du grand ton:
De joie et de tendresse
Remplir tous ses instans:
Eh gai! c'est la sagesse
Du gros Roger-Bontemps.
Dire au ciel: Je me fie,
Mon pere, a ta bonte;
De ma philosophie
Pardonne le gaite;
Que ma saison derniere
Soit encore un printemps;
Eh gai! c'est la priere
Du gros Roger-Bontemps.
Vous pauvres pleins d'envie,
Vous riches desireux,
Vous, dont le char devie
Apres un cours heureux;
Vous qui perdrez peut-etre
Des titres eclatans,
Eh gai! prenez pour maitre
Le gros Roger-Bontemps.
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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Thanksgiving
It’s getting close to thanksgiving day
When every ones table will be on display.
Tablecloths of different patterns and designs
Making the tables look just fine.
Where every mother or wife try to
Fill their hearts delight.
Food dishes and desserts passed down
From generation to generation
Leaving you with a tasty temptation.
On the table a butterball turkey
And a honey baked ham
Both sitting in their juices
In a large roasting pan.
Mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes
Green bean salad, and corn on the cob
It looks like someone was doing their job.
A pan of beans, and a large bowl of rice
Bottles of apple cider sitting on ice.
Everything to make a thanksgiving complete
Spending it with family and friends
What a beautiful treat.
But this holiday can not be celebrated
If it wasn’t for those pilgrims on that historic day
When they spent it with Indians
and learned different games to play.
This was the creation of this
Great country that we all know
And now macy’ s puts on its thanksgiving show.
You’ve got to love it!
poem by Louis Rams
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Preparing Dinner
I watch the pot on the stove
Water is overspilling
The rice is cooking
With bubbles galore
I smother chicken in sauce
Sauce that is made up of green pepper, black pepper and onions
Accompanied with that is the All in one spice.
Watch out for the toilet paper
The spices start talking
The chicken gets fried
The smell of breyani echoes through the house
I chop the potatoes as well as the carrots
I open up McCain veggies
And distribute it with the food
I put more spices in and the McCain veggies
Gets assimilated into the food
The pot is filled with colours
The steam fills the house
The brown chicken starts talking to the yellow potatoes
So does the carrots
The rice is strained
It rises to the core
I use tastic rice
Because it is the best out of them all
I set the table with plates
And it is ready to be filled
One by one they get dished out
First the rice (centered) and then the potatoes and chicken
Ice cream is served as desert
Coca-Cola is poured into glasses
The sweet taste bubbles in my mouth
The hot food burns my mouth
While the cold drink soothes its pain
I smother tomatoes and onions with vinegar
And serve them next to the food
The sauce gives the tongue extra kick
And goes down with a good drink
poem by Lee John Siebritz
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Reflections On Leaves
You answer me across the years
when I ask what it means to be alive
It means peace with myself,
my world, and my god
It means freedom to roam unhindered
to gather experience
to absorb the ambiance of America
But the American Rugged Individualist
has joined the endangered species list
He is ostracized, alienated, imprisoned,
and often encouraged to die
He may soon follow the passenger pigeon
into North American legend
And the Wide Open Spaces
have been closed by barbed wire
and real estate development
The great American quilt has become a blanket -
a land of fast food and golf courses
But perhaps I romanticize the past
maybe you too struggled with the purpose of existence
maybe you too felt helpless, hopeless, and meaningless
Perhaps you too howled into the night
'What's it all for? What am I for? '
I know I am not the first to ask these questions
I know I will not be the last
But now the answers seem muddied
perhaps they were never there at all
And perhaps most discouragingly, I realize
even nostalgia isn't what it used to be
poem by Rob McKercher
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Autumn Leaves Changing Colors
As summer ends and autumn comes
Days get shorter, misty and cold
And in this spectacular season
Nature's beauty graciously unfold
Trees get ready to slow down
And in autumn take some rest
And show amazing colors of love
That are all at their best
Green fades away quickly
And yellow and orange appear
To show off their vibrant hues
And warmup their surrounding dear
Sunlight and cool nights of autumn
Help leaves to turn orangish red
And combine all things smoothly
To add magic in season's lovely bed
And all this shedding and replacement
Of leaves continue throughout the year
And trees only shed leaves in autumn
To prepare for another winter dear
This is God's spectacular display
Of beautiful colors of the fall
During which many changes occur
Including yellow, orange and red of all.
***Inspired by the changing colors of autumn in Canada.
poem by Seema Chowdhury
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In a way, the history of jazz's development is a small mirror of classical music's development through the centuries. Now jazz is a living form of original music, while classical music has gotten to the end of its cycle in terms of exploring its form.
quote by Mike Figgis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Heidelberg
In Heidelberg we stayed in a white house
against the ranges
and there were always
sweet yellow corn that Mom had planted
and nice juicy green beans
that crept up the canes
and I planted rows of onions
and pulled orange carrots
from the ground
and washed them at the tap
and bit pieces from them
and the trees
were heavy with peaches
and we had to
chase the baboons away
that came to strip the them,
but those times
has long passed
and I wonder what is left
of that old white house?
poem by Gert Strydom
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Does a Fish go Pee?
Does a fish go pee
when it's swimming in the sea?
Does it ever get the notion
when it's swimming in the ocean?
Does a fish take a leak
when it's swimming in the creek?
Do they do it in a muddle
when you see them in a puddle?
Does a fish ever miss when it's taking a @! &%
and they find urination
in the farmer's irrigation?
Do you think they're rather fond
of going potty in the pond...
and then, for goodness sake,
do they go while in the lake?
Do they tinkle at all
while in the waterfall?
Could you see a yellow gleam
as they do it in the stream?
Now take a little quiz:
Does a fish ever whiz?
Does a fish go pee
when it's swimming in the sea?
(Written in 1990)
poem by Cathe Ferguson
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Campfire Meal
There is nothing like a meal
From a flaming hot campfire
It cooks the kind of food
For which you’ll never tire
A slow cooked smoky brisket
The best you ever got
Along with homemade biscuits
Cooked right in a iron pot
The beans are so hot and spicy
Your taste buds will yell hooray
The food is so delicious
I don’t know just what to say
The sweet corn and potatoes
Are cooked on the campfire too
Grab a plate and get in line
That’s just what you want to do
It’s the cowboy way of cooking
I’ll grab some firewood
Join us at the Rockin L & H
Where nothing else tastes as good!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Trippy
yellow,
red,
but more so blue.
purple,
green,
but more so orange.
I do feel yellow so then im glad.
soon comes red, now im mad.
your not with me so now im blue.
purple comes with no emotion,
green is like the ice cold ocean.
orange reminds me of the food,
oh how the colors i see can change my mood.
poem by Lexy Depaola
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Calaloo
Notes: nothing in my novel suggests this song except the island ambience. jimmy came up with it only after we had finshed the first draft of the musical, and it is quintessential buffett, quirky
Ery and a lot of truth, in a rousing song of the kitchen help. the hotel norman paperman takes over is called the gull reef club and the cook, sheila, who sings calaloo, is the true soul of the
, and of the caribbean.
Chorus:
Calaloo, strange calaloo
Mysterious curious roux
Try as you might to avoid the hoodoo
Sooner or later were all in the stew
>from here in my kitchen
I watch the whole seen
Life on dis island s
A unique cuisine
It simmers and bubbles
And looks quite routine
Till somebody spill all da beans
Chorus:
Calaloo, strange calaloo
Mysterious curious roux
Try as you might to avoid the hoodoo
Sooner or later were all in the stew
Night after night
On dat terrace out der
Plays a melodrama
Could equal shakesphere
Dey may tell theirself
Dat somehow dey are not
Best take it from me,
Were all in the same pot
Chorus:
Calaloo, strange calaloo
Mysterious curious roux
Try as you might to avoid the hoodoo
Sooner or later were all in the stew
Bridge:
Hey hey sheila, hey hey sheila
Hey hey sheila, whats in dat calaloo
Hey sheila tell us, hey sheila tell us
Hey hey sheila, whats in that calaloo
We got crab and pig tell
Squid ink and fish scale
Okra and dasheen leaves
Chitchat and chatter
Fill up the platter
With a garnish of pure make believe
Chorus:
Calaloo, strange calaloo
Mysterious and curious roux
Though some might think somehow they are not
Make no mistake were all in the same pot
Take it from me this is no camelot.
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Real-Estate
Real-Estate, real, estate, state, taste, east, eat, ale, tea, set, sale, sales, ate;
In the thirty-seventh year with your love,
And like your battle axe and your weapons of war!
But the horse and its rider are now killed with your bombs! !
Real-Estate, at, as, art, last, late, rate, rates, sea, sear, tear, tears, tale, tales;
And like the muse of love in the land of hatred!
But rise up to the challenges around you and be yourself;
For many wrs ar now waging on!
Real-Estate, ear, era, are, seat, lease, star, rat, tar, tease, salt, ease, sat, ears;
And like your love behind the works of war! !
But be very wise to move on peacefully with your mind;
For the real-estate business is like the muse of your love surrounded with troubles.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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