Said the Raj when he went to New Delhi:
Da curry's so good in my belhi.
Do I love it not 'arf
But oh when I larf
My belhi keeps shaking like jelhi.
quote by by Margaret Kollmer
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Related quotes
philosophy Of Give And Take!
PHILOSOPHY OF GIVE AND
TAKE!
It is very often said, that Delhi culture is one
of ‘give and take’!
If you give with one hand, with the other
you must take!
But why alone blame Delhi, for this kind
of philosophy? !
Has not this culture now slowly spread? !
I read your poems only, after mine are
also read? !
Friends, in these lines I have merely recalled, -
What a lady poet of Delhi told me once, -
over the phone!
So now I leave it to the readers of poem-
hunter.com, -
To prove her right, or to prove her wrong!
-Raj Nandy
05 Apr 09
New Delhi
Feelings: Well Worth It
Feeling bad for
chocolate and sweets
and all things
nice, but curry?
not worth pain
for a taste mundane -
you wanted curry
it's not reasonable
to inflict it on me
knowing the sequel; I
can’t eat it, and now
the pills don’t work
I’m stuck in pain,
should you make curry
again, I’ll settle
for a big Chocolate cake
and then when I
die inside,
it will be
Well Worth It!
poem by Margaret Alice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mr Curry Delight
Yum, yummy
O! My tummy
Mr. Curry Delight
Now I fight
For my right
Mouthwatering tasty dishes
Incredible vegetable species
O! Mr. Chef
Mr. Curry Delight
Yum, Yummy
Hear my tummy
Common hurry!
Or be sorry
Hmmm, what’s cooking?
Aromatic spices stewing
Spinach & vegetable brewing
In bucolic style
Chopped onions & tomatoes
Anything edible goes
With the flow
Spicy chicken tandoori
Worth the calories
Yum, Yummy
O! My tummy
O! Mr Curry Delight
This curry sauce
Deserves an applause!
Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Midsummer New York
Wake up in the morning, my hands cold in fear.
And midsummer new york my heart shakes in terror.
My heart, my hands, my legs, my mind,
Evrything I touch is shaking, shaking, shaking, shaking,
Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, oooh.
Wake up in the morning, my beds wet in sweat.
And midsummer new york, scream in the mirror.
And the door, and the chairs, and the floor, and the ceiling,
Evrything you see is aching, shaking, shaking, shaking,
Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, oooh.
And you shake, shake, shake, shake, shake,
Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, oooh.
Wake up in the morning, my minds dried up in pain.
Midsummer new yorks waiting for the rain.
The window, the trees, the park, the sun,
The whole world s shaking, is shaking, shaking,
Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, oooh.
Shake, oh, shake, oh, shake,
Shake, oh, shake, shake.
Aching, aching, aching, aching, aching,
Oh, its aching, aching, aching, oh, aching,
Aching, aching, oh, its aching, aching, oh, oh.
Shaking, shaking,
Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake,
Shake!
Shake, oh, shake, shake, shake, shake,
Shake, shake, shake.
Shake, shake,
Shake, shake, shake, shake.
Ooh, oh, shake, shake, shake, shake,
Oh, oh, oh, oh, aching, oh, oh, aching, aching, aching, aching.
Shake, shake, shaking, shaking, shaking, shaking,
Shaking, ooh, oh, shaking, oh, shake,
Oh, oh, shaking, shaking, shaking, shaking,
Oh, oh, shaking, shake, shake, shake, shake,
Shake, shake, shake,
Shake!
Oh, oh, oh, shake, shake.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Midsummer New York
Wake up in the morning, my hands cold in fear.
And midsummer new york my heart shakes in terror.
My heart, my hands, my legs, my mind,
Evrything I touch is shaking, shaking, shaking, shaking,
Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, oooh.
Wake up in the morning, my beds wet in sweat.
And midsummer new york, scream in the mirror.
And the door, and the chairs, and the floor, and the ceiling,
Evrything you see is aching, shaking, shaking, shaking,
Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, oooh.
And you shake, shake, shake, shake, shake,
Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, oooh.
Wake up in the morning, my minds dried up in pain.
Midsummer new yorks waiting for the rain.
The window, the trees, the park, the sun,
The whole world s shaking, is shaking, shaking,
Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, oooh.
Shake, oh, shake, oh, shake,
Shake, oh, shake, shake.
Aching, aching, aching, aching, aching,
Oh, its aching, aching, aching, oh, aching,
Aching, aching, oh, its aching, aching, oh, oh.
Shaking, shaking,
Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake,
Shake!
Shake, oh, shake, shake, shake, shake,
Shake, shake, shake.
Shake, shake,
Shake, shake, shake, shake.
Ooh, oh, shake, shake, shake, shake,
Oh, oh, oh, oh, aching, oh, oh, aching, aching, aching, aching.
Shake, shake, shaking, shaking, shaking, shaking,
Shaking, ooh, oh, shaking, oh, shake,
Oh, oh, shaking, shaking, shaking, shaking,
Oh, oh, shaking, shake, shake, shake, shake,
Shake, shake, shake,
Shake!
Oh, oh, oh, shake, shake.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Red Hot Curry
'my pot of love for you, here it is, '
mom tells daughter, 'thick and savoury
as the suntan, reddish hot as chillies,
appetising as turmeric, jintan,
a million spices, ginger, garlic
and tangy as this piece of spring chicken'
she stirs the curry and daugher sees
a thick volcanic red fragrant oil
churns in the potpourri of wonders
'And that is my love for you. Come
storm, come shine, come rain, i will
be there to make sure you are
at your best.. a pot of irresistible
curry.'
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bone Less
Bone less
Hen...
Making
For fast food
Shop...
Bone's are
Moving for
soup...
Taste with
Masala..
Nise for hen
Curry
Bite the teeth...
Tasted toung
Taste is fine...
The hen was
Hunted
Dead body
Of hen for
Bone less curry;
Tasted fast
Mani more
Its hen dead body...! !
But -
Bone less curry...? !
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Merry Sportsmen
'Arry an' me is bits of sports;
When the summer comes around
We gits our sweaters an' guns an' shorts
An' we seeks out 'untin' ground.
Tennis an' 'ikin' we reckons tame;
So we shuns the cissy push
An' goes in more for a 'e-man sport
Shootin', out in the bush.
Week-end 'fore last we 'ad some fun
Close up to a record day;
For a real good bag fell to each gun
Pea-rific, that's to say.
But the gem of it all was that darn fool bird
I got while 'e's 'avin' a barf
At the edge of a pool. 'E looked absurd.
Chee! 'Arry an' me did larf!
By lunch I'd potted a decent bag:
Three parrots, a thrush an' a jack,
An' 'Arry, two wrens an' a lark an' a mag.
Then we camps at a creek near the track;
When up comes a coot in a rig absurd
Wot talks like some bug-'untin' fool.
But 'Arry sez, ''Ist!' An' 'e points to a bird
Wot is 'avin' a barf at a pool.
'Wot a charmin' pitcher!' this strange bloke said,
But I ups with me gun in a jiff
An', jist as the dicky-bird's duckin' 'is 'ead,
I skittles the beggar stiff.
Well, you should 'a' seen 'ow this strange bloke gapes:
Lip like a motherless colt.
An' eyes stickin' out like a couple o' grapes.
Chee! 'Arry an' me did larf!
'E goggles a bit, then 'e goes orf pop,
But we're two to 'is one, so we smiles.
Then he threatens to give us in charge to a cop.
Fat chance! There ain't one in miles!
Red robin it was. If you only 'ad seen!
Real trustful-like, 'avin' 'is barf,
When - Plunk! An' 'is blood spurts over the green.
Chee! Arry an' me did larf!
I can't stop larfin' whenever I think
Of that comedy there by the creek.
Singin' robin 'e was with a breast all pink.
(We are goin' again nex' week.)
There 'e was, splashin' all over the place,
When I darn near blows 'im in 'arf.
An' if you'd saw the look on that strange cove's face!
Chee! 'Arry an' me did larf!
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shaking Through
Could it be that one small voice doesnt count in the world?
Yellow like a geisha gown, denial all the way
Could this by three be turned? honor marches on.
Yellow like a geisha gown, denial all the way
Shaking through, opportune. shaking through, opportune.
Are we grown way too far?
Taking after rain
Yellow like a geisha gown, denial all the way
Shaking through, opportune. shaking through, opportune.
In my life.
Is that a steal?
Children of today on parade,
Yellow like a geisha gown, denial all the way
Shaking through, opportune. shaking through, opportune.
Shaking through, opportune. shaking through, opportune.
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crazy
Listen
You're funny and you don't know why
You're funny and you can't even cry
You're funny and you don't know why
You're funny and you don't even try
Cause your head's shaking cause your arms are shaking
And your feet are shaking cause the earth is shaking
You're hungry and you don't know why
You're hungry and you can't even cry
You're hungry and you don't know why
You're hungry and you don't even cry
You take a walk and you try to understand
Nothing can hurt you
Unless you want it to
There are no answers
Many reasons to be strong
You take a walk you take a walk
You take a walk and you try to understand
You're in love and you don't know why
You're in love and you can't even cry
You're in love and you don't know why
You're in love and you don't even try
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0011 'Living and dying, laughing and forgetting' - listening to Ferlinghetti
and you’ve read many poems like this,
on the printed page;
the big words thrown in like some hot curry
where you’re short of good solid meat
so rap a few more big words in and
another spoonful of curry powder
or sex, or some current buzz-word
denoting a lifetime of youthful intelligent
rebellion and independent thought…
but not this time.
This is a famous poet of a famous time
and he’s just written it, in his eighties
and he won’t live for ever and he’s here
and reading it with vigour; a husky voice, and
his face flushed with eternity;
eternity, and innocence;
he means every word; and each word
comes from the centre of his life
‘living and dying,
laughing and forgetting…’
and listening to him, you could feel
that poetry’s too good for the printed page –
it should be declaimed, to audiences
who’ve walked for dusty miles,
who’ve bathed in sacred springs,
who’ve brought their children,
who’ve been here all day
and who will sit silent by the fires at night,
who are on their knees
listening with their lives
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flaming Dragon Curry
On the menu, I spotted Flaming Dragon Curry,
But, to try this dish, I am in no particular hurry;
It has onions, red peppers, and chicken (diced) ,
Steeped in seasoning, herbs, and Indian spice.
I'd probably be sitting there with streaming eyes:
For me to try this dish, I think, would not be wise.
As well as watery eyes, my mouth would be on fire;
Neither of which is a sensation I particularly desire.
Five red chillies indicated it was the hottest dish there;
Certainly way too hot for my taste-buds to ever bear.
I consider that this curry is only for the very brave;
It is certainly not a dish that I would ever crave.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Faith makes all evil good to us, and all good better; unbelief makes all good evil, and all evil worse. Faith laughs at the shaking of the spear; unbelief trembles at the shaking of a leaf.
quote by Robert Cecil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Guy's In Love With You
They say this guy's, this guy's in love with you
Yes, I'm in love who looks at you the way I do
When you smile, I can tell we know each other very well
How can I show you I'm glad I got to know you
Cause
I've heard some talk, they say you think I'm fine
Yes, I'm in love, and what I do to make you mine
Tell me now, is it so, don't have me be the last to know
My hands are shaking, don't let my heart keep breaking
Cause
I need your love
I want your love
Say you're in love, in love with this guy
If not I'll just die
Tell me now, is it so, don't let me be the last to know
My hands are shaking, don't let my heart keep breaking
Cause
I need your love
I want your love
Say you're in love, in love with this guy
If not I'll just die
song performed by by Faith No More
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bill's Grave
I'm gatherin' flowers by the wayside to lay on the grave of Bill;
I've sneaked away from the billet, 'cause Jim wouldn't understand;
'E'd call me a silly fat'ead, and larf till it made 'im ill,
To see me 'ere in the cornfield, wiv a big bookay in me 'and.
For Jim and me we are rough uns, but Bill was one o' the best;
We 'listed and learned together to larf at the wust wot comes;
Then Bill copped a packet proper, and took 'is departure West,
So sudden 'e 'adn't a minit to say good-bye to 'is chums.
And they took me to where 'e was planted, a sort of a measly mound,
And, thinks I, 'ow Bill would be tickled, bein' so soft and queer,
If I gathered a bunch o' them wild-flowers, and sort of arranged them round
Like a kind of a bloody headpiece . . . and that's the reason I'm 'ere.
But not for the love of glory I wouldn't 'ave Jim to know.
'E'd call me a slobberin' Cissy, and larf till 'is sides was sore;
I'd 'ave larfed at meself too, it isn't so long ago;
But some'ow it changes a feller, 'avin' a taste o' war.
It 'elps a man to be 'elpful, to know wot 'is pals is worth
(Them golden poppies is blazin' like lamps some fairy 'as lit);
I'm fond o' them big white dysies. . . . Now Jim's o' the salt o' the earth;
But 'e 'as got a tongue wot's a terror, and 'e ain't sentimental a bit.
I likes them blue chaps wot's 'idin' so shylike among the corn.
Won't Bill be glad! We was allus thicker 'n thieves, us three.
Why! 'Oo's that singin' so 'earty? JIM! And as sure as I'm born
'E's there in the giddy cornfields, a-gatherin' flowers like me.
Quick! Drop me posy be'ind me. I watches 'im for a while,
Then I says: "Wot 'o, there, Chummy! Wot price the little bookay?"
And 'e starts like a bloke wot's guilty, and 'e says with a sheepish smile:
"She's a bit of orl right, the widder wot keeps the estaminay."
So 'e goes away in a 'urry, and I wishes 'im best o' luck,
And I picks up me bunch o' wild-flowers, and the light's gettin' sorto dim,
When I makes me way to the boneyard, and . . . I stares like a man wot's stuck,
For wot do I see? Bill's grave-mound strewn with the flowers of Jim.
Of course I won't never tell 'im, bein' a tactical lad;
And Jim parley-voos to the widder: "Trez beans, lamoor; compree?"
Oh, 'e'd die of shame if 'e knew I knew; but say! won't Bill be glad
When 'e stares through the bleedin' clods and sees the blossoms of Jim and me?
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shaking Off The Chains
Is life everything you want to be,
Does it give you everything that you need,
Does it live up to your expectations,
Are you ready for the celebrations.
This is not for the weak of mind,
Are you sure that youre my kind,
Do you want to be part of me,
Are you sure that you can really see.
Are you chained to a life that you dont want,
Is it hard for you to find a way out,
Can you live without the love that you need,
Are you sure that what you have is so real.
This is not for the weak of mind,
Are you sure that youre my kind,
Do you want to be part of me,
Are you sure that you can really see.
All of your life, they try to take your cover,
Turn you into another, and make you change your name.
When you fall, its up to you to recover,
You cant depend on another, to help you with the pain, yeah.
Im shaking off the chains, Im shaking off the chains.
This is not for the weak of mind,
Are you sure that youre my kind,
Do you want to be part of me,
Are you sure that you can really see.
In the night, you say that you are falling
People always calling, calling out your name.
What do you know, a face appears at the window,
Tapping on the window, the window of your soul.
Im shaking off the chains, Im tired of all the pain,
Im shaking off the chains, let me live again,
Shaking off the chains, shaking off the chains.
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On A Good Night
(paul nelson/don cook/larry boone)
On a good night I could hop in my truck
Round up my friends and with any kind of luck
We could end up howling at a harvest moon
On a good night I could put on my hat
Head down to the honky tonk and dance
But on a real good night I meet a women like you
Brown hair blue eyes once in a life time countrified kind of girl
Heart-breaking chance-taking wild little love making
Shaking up my world
Hey on a good night I can picture the day
All my dreams come true
But on a real good night I meet a women like you
On a good night I can drive to the lake
Turn on the radio and find george strait
Then go play a little game of eight ball pool
On a good night I might be found
Draggin with the boys cross town
But on a real good night I meet a women like you
Brown hair blue eyes once in a life time countrified kind of girl
Heart-breaking chance-taking wild little love making
Shaking up my world
Hey on a good night I can picture the day
All my dreams come true
But on a real good night I meet a women like you
Brown hair blue eyes once in a life time countrified kind of girl
Heart-breaking chance-taking wild little love making
Shaking up my world
Hey on a good night I can picture the day
All my dreams come true
But on a real good night I meet a women like you
song performed by by Wade Hayes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Push Comes To Shove
Shaking in the forest, what have you to fear?
Here there may be tigers, to punch you in the ear.
With gloves of stainless steel, bats carved out of bricks
Knock you down and beat you up and give your ass a kick.
When push comes to shove, youre afraid of love.
Shaking in the desert, now wherefore do you cry?
Here there may be rattlesnakes, to punch you in the eye.
With shotguns full of silver and bullets made of glass
String barbed wire at your feet, that will not let you pass.
When push comes to shove, youre afraid of love.
When push comes to shove, when push comes to shove,
Youre afraid of love, when push comes to shove.
Shaking in the bedroom, covers on your head,
Are you still in fear of the hand beneath the bed?
Grabbing at the handle, scratching at the door,
Maybe its mystery killer you saw on channel four.
When push comes to shove, youre afraid of love.
Shaking in the garden, the fear within you grows,
Here there may be roses, to punch you in the nose.
Put my arms around you, love you til you cry,
Wrap you in your sweet perfume and squeeze you til you die.
When push comes to shove, youre afraid of love.
When push comes to shove, when push comes to shove,
Youre afraid of love, when push comes to shove.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Because
You’re shaking because you don’t know
what I’m going to say.
I’m shaking because I do know what I’m
going to say.
I love you.
You shake my heart.
You’re swaying because you know now
what I was going to say.
I’m swaying because you know now what
I was going to say.
You sway my mind.
You’re delighting because of what I have said.
I’m delighting because of what I have said.
I love you, because
You delight my soul.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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