The Cook: A Tribute To Bibhu Padhi
The cook knows
that his shadow
burns in the fire.
Turmeric fragrance drives
hungry crocodiles away
from the greenroom.
While cooking himself
the cook discovers
that each fire has its own inscription.
You know how profound
the fire is, how much
it demands from life.
Cooking is self-cooking,
discovery of fire-roses
getting wiser in the soul of a bird.
poem by Rudra Kinshuk
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Cooking Pot
our cooking pot is not made of porcelain
or silver or gold but it is made of the mud
of this earth
hardened by time and fire and too much
waiting
our patience consumed
our waiting had been too long about this cooking
pot, earthen
where we put all our dreams and cook them
like rice
porridge, all of our dreams
fired by the woods of our reminiscence
our longings our loneliness our daily concerns
our future wishes
and then when the time comes to open
and see and smell what rice porridge is
we say we like it we say we love it
only to be repulsed by this visitor in the house
'this is not cooking! This is not good! ' and he stares at us
and says, we need more fire, more wood, more time
to have the perfect porridge
i went out unable to stand this hunger
unable to see what this visitor says
it is our fault we allowed him in
we open our doors and windows and let him sleep in our room
as we lay on the floors and keep ourselves on the stairs.
'this is too much' i said.
'he must leave this house at once' i told you.
this is our pot. this is our porridge. this is our cooking.
and we must eat. we must love what we have.
'get out of my house' i said.
and then i am relieved from an opression.
i am happier now. My pot is earthen. Its bottom is sooty black.
i am blue. And i do not really mind.
This is my porridge. You may take it, if you like.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I cook everything. I love Mediterranean cooking, I love Asian cooking. I do lots of Japanese noodles.
(V - 2004) The Lad who was called Mad
People called him mad.
Many a days
He came to my mother
He would then say
‘There is fire in my stomach’
My mother would then hurry her cooking
Soon she would serve
Rice and curry
Spiced with love and care.
He would eat to his full
And at the very next door
He would again say
‘There is fire in my stomach –
I am hungry still’
And so one day
I looked deep into him
Wondered what his hunger was for
And saw fire in his heart.
Still, he little knew that
He simply said, ‘there is fire in my stomach’
And people called him mad.
He was a sensitive lad
Some had led him astray
So he lost his senses,
Lost his way
And people called him mad.
This hurt him more
Still he had them guide him.
So, finally one day
Into the temple pond
He drowned himself
To quell for ever
The fire in him
And then the people
Who had called him mad
Said with pity, ‘Oh, how sad! ’
Dragon In My Soul
Fire,
It burns in all of us,
It burns deep in my soul,
I fell it when I'm told no,
Fire,
or you would not under stand,
That you are to young,
Flame brakes,
out like wild fire,
I look at the world in away that most adults are blind to,
I sit in my corner,
day,
night,
hoping.
Hoping that I will be free,
free from my age,
Cinders start to flame,
I look at the earth,
poisoned,
Fire,
poisoned by the adults,
Fire,
The government is a place that the idiots go,
Fire,
to control us,
Fire burns deep,
They make bad decisions,
Fire
Pass laws that make no sense,
Fire
but we have to listen,
Fire
we have to do,
Then the fire burns,
My soul is ablaze,
Anger,
Hate,
Sadness,
Fire,
I understand what you are saying,
That's why I argue,
Fire,
louder,
Fire,
Until I am yelling,
Until the fire is flaming out of my mouth,
Coming from my lungs,
My soul is on fire,
Anger,
hate,
sadness,
poem by Shadrach Knight
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I don't like gourmet cooking or ""this"" cooking or ""that"" cooking. I like good cooking.
quote by James Beard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fire Burns! Fire Burns!
If you like you can enquire
There are rings of fire
There are hearts on fire
There are desert, grass and bush fires
Burning with a red hot rage on a different stage
They burn and mature that one can only admire
O! Fire O! Fire
My heart is on fire
Inside my soul a little flame has transpired
Have my words mis-fired while I speak of fire?
Fire burns like a scorching red-hot sun
And when fire burns its impact is sometimes no fun
Fire burns! Fire burns!
People die, people cry, people sigh
Fire run, run and run
Let's take turns to run before we turn into a bun
When you play with fire your hands will burn
When you lay with fire, heads will surely turn
Fire burns! Fire burns!
A hand pulls a gun and fires
A man goes to work and gets fired
And while I tire, I ask myself am I a liar?
For I speak of the uncontrollable forest fires
That cannot be announced by any town crier
A little spark
A brittle panic attack
A burning flame
A red-hot blaze
In seconds fire can take out an entire space
Fire burns! Fire burns!
And while the fire transpires
I can see the fire in your eyes
A hot passionate desire that flies and flies
And the fire burns and burns
Run, run and run for heads will turn
And the heat will rise like the scorching sun
Fire burns! Fire burns!
I ask silently for a ceasefire
For fire only ignites to inspire more misery
And out of that misery are born some high fliers
Run, run and run for heads will turn
And whatever burns can never be undone
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Fiery Love
I stare into the fire
it signifies my desire
leaping creeping and all red flames,
fire,
and its beauty hypnotizing,
fire
and its flames uprising.
sparks showering in the night,
feeding fires of lesser might,
fire feeding on life and air,
fire that lays landscapes bare,
fire that warms the heart and soul,
fire that drives away the cold,
fire thats as hot as the heat within,
fire that seeks to erase my sin,
fire promises of days to come,
fire that will unite us as one,
and then I pray for the same desire
will sometimes too ignite your fire,
two lovers burning
consumed with flames,
the ashes of their love
ignite again and again
poem by Arti Chopra
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My Fire
Fire is my life, fire is my hope, fire is my everything.
Confusion, whipping, whirling never ending.
Always colder, always harder, cruel and devastating all in one.
Fire is my life, fire is my hope, fire is my everything.
Light, I need a light to keep at bay the ever darkening hour.
Searching for warmth, searching to hide, searching to survive.
Fire is my life, fire is my hope, fire is my everything.
A leaf, a twig, anything to find a way.
At last a flame, a hope to guide me from my doom.
Fire is my life, fire is my hope, fire is my everything.
The light is hungry devouring all in its path and growing in strength.
Then suddenly, goodbye mydear with a hiss the light and my salvation go out.
Fire was my life, fire was my hope, fire was my everything.
poem by Angelic Warrior
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I sometimes think the chef end of cooking is not the real end of cooking. Cooking is all about homes and gardens, it doesn't happen in restaurants.
quote by Delia Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dirty old fire
Fire in my hair
Fire in my eyes
Fire between my thighs
Thank you for the fire
Fire gone and burned down my house
Fire deflowered me
Fire drew me in
Fire on the television
Fire dancing in the nude
Fire the best liar of them all
Thank you Fire
poem by Lindsay Crosby
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The secret is to cook the aubergines the day before and let them dry of all the oil they drank in cooking. When you cook aubergine, they eat a lot of oil. It can be very heavy.
quote by Nana Mouskouri
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rowing Your Way
He sat under a palm tree
serenading his lady fair
when a coconut dropped on his head
and he sat with a blank stare there.
She whispered sweet words of nothing,
but he couldn’t hear a thing
only somewhere in the distance
he head a cuckoo sing.
She garland him with pansies
and he looked a proper prat,
then a big bird came along
and deposited something on his hat
and as it run down on his chin
he thought his lady fair
had given a gooey kiss to him.
Then he opened up his eyes
and much to his surprise
he found himself in a cooking pot
and his lady fair was cooking him.
The vegetables floated on the water,
which was getting hotter.
Oh my, oh my, he shouted
and jumped out of the pot
and into the fire.
He legged it as fast as he could
smelling the smoke of his shoes on fire.
The natives took to hot pursuit
as along the sand he ran.
Wanting to dive in the water
but the dorsal fins of sharks
looking for a tasty bite
made him think twice as he flee.
Now he was in a pondery of which way to go
caught between the cooking pot and the deep blue sea.
Then he saw his route to escape
someone had left a dingy
up there on the beach.
Pushing it into the water
he began to paddle like mad,
but the dingy had a hole in it
and right then he wished he could fly.
With one hand bailing
and one hand rowing,
he struggled on.
If he could reach the nearby by island
he figured he would be safe.
The natives from where he came
lit a fire and with smoke signals
told their brothers that dinner
would soon be rowing your way.
poem by David Harris
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MaMa's Cooking
Thinking of times I would say what's cooking everyday
It's an assortment of goodie things
Chocolate, pies and banana pudding
Enough food and that's Mama's cooking
Thinking of times I would say what's cooking everyday
Apron in hand and lasting impression I didn't want to miss
Everything seem perfect from beginning to end
Enough food and that's Mama's Cooking
Thinking of times I would say what's cooking everyday
Smiling faces and a gentle speech of o.k.
Noone knows how much the void I can't fill
Enough food and that Mama's Cooking
Thinking of times I would say what's cooking everyday
Being polite and sincere would carry the weight
Seemingly enough she has the greater plan
Enough food and that Mama's Cooking ahead
Thinking of times I would say what's cooking everyday
The napkins, plates and never-ending why didn't it last
Noone knows how much the void I can't fill
Enough food and that's Mama's Cooking again
Thinking of times I would say what's cooking everyday
Craving for the turkey and dressing pan
Not to admit, seemed a bit much
Enough Food and that's Mama's Cooking again
So nowadays, I look for the needle in the haystack
Wishing on the times, she would come back
It's been 10 years, since I said thoughs word's
Enough food and that Mama's blessing for us
Missing mom everyday becomes second-nature for me
Enough food, Enough love and One day she'll see
For know I'll take her spirits with me and others will speak
Enough food, Enough love and One day she'll see
poem by Natasha McGee
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Fire on Your Finger
Fire on your finger,
Fire in your eye,
Fire in your spirit,
Fire that won’t die.
Fire in the bare bones of being,
Fire to uphold what’s right,
Fire in the heart of darkness,
Fire to fuel Love’s light.
Fire to burn but not consume,
Fire to learn and not assume,
Fire to live and give living room,
Fire to love and sing her tune.
poem by Tony Jolley
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Fire!
(Translation To: Feuer Frei!)
Whoever knows pain becomes criticized
From the fire that burned up the skin
I throw a light in my face
A hot cry
Fire!
Bang!
Bang!
Whoever knows pain is raised
From the fire that burns in desire
A hard thrust (that gives off sparks) into her womb
A hot cry
Fire!
Bang!
Bang!
Fire!
Whoever knows pain is dangerous
From the fire that burns the soul
Bang bang
The burned child is dangerous
With fire that separates from the life
A hot cry..
Bang!
Bang!
Fire!
Your happiness
It is not my happiness
It is my misery
Bang!
Bang!
Fire!
song performed by by Rammstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Writers Fire Within
You have a growing temptation, a
urge you can't get rid of.
A fire burns deep within.
Your Soul seems to be set on fire.
The only way to ease this fire is the
pen lying next to you.
It seems that you write forever, but,
in reality only seconds have
passed.
Thats the way a writer feels when
The Fire Burns Within
poem by Marcia Nicole Sonnier
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The Burning Fire
There is something burning in my heart
Spreading like a forest fire
It engulfs my body and my mind
Taking over me it burns me alive
This fire is burning ever so hot
All the time
If I ever try to put the fire out
I know I could not
For my heart is in too deep to be wrought
From its fiery pit which it burns aloft
This fire burns me now
All the time
The fire does not hurt as it burns my flesh
In fact I enjoy it as I burn
For this fire is not fire
But this fire is love
And with love I burn
For the one I love
poem by Alex Fischer
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Cooking
I want her
To be
Blemish free
So I don't
Want her
To learn
Cooking…
For the fear
Of getting
Burned or scalded.
But I have to
Teach her
Cooking…
So that she
Becomes
Self-reliant and
Society doesn't
Disdain her for
Poor cooking…
She is able to
Lead a life
Blemish free.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Fire In me
fire in my fingertips
fire in my toes
fire in my blood
racing, surging
burning all in its path
the deliciousness of warmth
a glow from inside
radiant
the fire in me
burns with the heat of a thousand suns
sets a spark in my eye
the fire in me
is who i want to be
the fire in me
poem by Sydelle someone
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Fire Is Many Things
Fire is many things,
Fire is insatiable.
Fire is everlasting,
Fire is uncontainable.
Fire is helpful,
Sometimes constructive.
Fire is harmful,
Often destructive.
Fire is passion,
Keeping hearts aflame.
Fire is romance,
Keeping love untamed.
Fire is the block of life
That tells the unknown.
Fire is forever,
Written in stone
Anger, heat,
Passion, and lust.
Every single day,
Fire is within us.
poem by Ben Payton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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