Everyone is kneaded out of the same dough but not baked in the same oven.
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Everyone is kneaded out of the same dough, but not baked in the same oven.
I don't exactly know what it means to be ready. A cake when the oven timer goes off? Am I fully baked, or only half-baked?
quote by Jessica Savitch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Simple Way To Enjoy Guilt Free Gift of Beer and Pizza
Blessed be the workers laborers of the field
harvesters of the hops and barley
Blessed be the brewers bottlers truck drivers
distributors liquor store proprietors
Blessed be the hands that the kneaded the dough
the oven and pickers of the onions
the Sun the plump ripe fruit of the vine
pickers waters of the growing grain
the cow the cheese maker
Blessed be the sacrificed pig
Blessed be the driver
All hands and life responsible for delivering
the simple joy
of Beer and Pizza
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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Some-Fake-A Baked Cake
No I don't have...
What I do have.
And I do have...
That which I don't.
A peaceless sleep...
Like many who walk 'mean' streets.
No I wont have,
None of that!
Strung out on dope,
Because I can't cope.
No I don't have,
None of that to keep me off track.
Or,
Make an impact.
No I don't have...
What I do have.
And I do have...
That which I don't.
No I don't have...
What I do have.
And I do have...
That which I don't.
Psychotic I'm not...
Like the ones who worry a lot.
Or hooked on smoking pot.
No I don't have...
What I do have.
And I do have,
That which I don't!
No I don't have...
What I do have.
And I do have,
That which I don't!
Even though...
Some-fake-a baked cake.
Some-fake-a baked cake.
Some-fake-a baked cake.
And I wont have...
None of that.
Even though...
Some-fake-a baked cake.
Some-fake-a baked cake.
Some-fake-a baked cake.
And I wont have...
None of that.
No!
I wont have...
None of that.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Stand Together(song)
Fresh out the oven
and baked like new
I do a wake and bake
for all of you
I become pleasant
and present
Aware of the peasant
who are always neglected
and some how uneffected
Able to live survive
Revive
No divide
Will reside
if we all just stand together
Alright...just stand together
(I will be on your side)
Just stand together
(I'll give you support)
Just stand together
Comin' fresh out of the oven
woke up to some lovin'
I declared my time to you
I was hoping that we grew
together not apart
It felt right from the start
Livin' in this crazy world
trying to get ahead
But everything always
seems dead
Shells that bleed
With the ability to move
and act
The streets are pact
Cause love is lost
cause we don't
stand together
Alright....Just stand together
poem by Cokbod Lodwogo
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God Is A Chef
There is a sign in heaven's kitchen,
That says enter at your own risk,
Be mindful of the lichen,
And the low flying whisk!
No idea what they are baking,
But following the recipe,
This is what they are making,
I wonder what it could be?
Start with 5oz of enthusiasm,
Knead cheer in the dough,
Then heat some sincerity,
For that golden glow.
Marinade in courtesy,
Grind some inspiration,
Pepper it over the top,
With gusto and dedication.
Take a pinch of wisdom,
Add a lot of tender care,
Sprinkle it with love,
And spread it everywhere.
Add a dash of beauty,
Mixed with a warm smile,
Garnish with humour,
Keep us grinning all the while.
Put in a spoonful of charisma,
Finish with a heart of gold,
This is one special recipe,
Baked with virtue extolled.
So what has been made?
No ordinary strawberry fool,
But a delicate dish,
That makes everyone drool!
Taken fresh out of the oven,
We find a fluffy fondue,
As all these ingredients,
Have created a wonderful you!
poem by Dale Mullock
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Old Memory
O THOUGHT, fly to her when the end of day
Awakens an old memory, and say,
'Your strength, that is so lofty and fierce and kind,
It might call up a new age, calling to mind
The queens that were imagined long ago,
Is but half yours: he kneaded in the dough
Through the long years of youth, and who would have thought
It all, and more than it all, would come to naught,
And that dear words meant nothing?' But enough,
For when we have blamed the wind we can blame love;
Or, if there needs be more, be nothing said
That would be harsh for children that have strayed.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Fruitcakes
Fruitcakes
By: jimmy buffett, amy lee
1994
--spoken:
You know I was talking to my friend desdemona the other day she
Runs this space station and bake shop down near boomtown. she told
Me that human beings are flawed individuals. the cosmic bakers
Took us out of the oven a little too early. and thats the
Reason were as crazy as we are and I believe it.
Take for example when you go to the movies these days, you know.
They try to sell you this jumbo drink, 8 extra ounces of watered
Down cherry coke for an extra 25 cents. I dont want it.
I dont want that much organziation in my life.
I dont want other people thinking for me.
I want my junior mints. where did the junior mints go in the
Movies. I dont want a 12 lb. nestles crunch for 25 dollars. i
Want junior mints.
We need more fruitcakes in this world and less bakers!
We need people that care! Im mad as hell! and I dont want to
Take it anymore!
Chorus:
Fruitcakes in the kitchen (fruitcakes in the kitchen)
Fruitcakes on the street (fruitcakes on the street)
Struttin naked through the crosswalk
In the middle of the week
Half-baked cookies in the oven (cookies in the oven)
Half-baked people on the bus (people on the bus)
Theres a little bit of fruitcake left in everyone of us
Paradise, lost and found
Paradise, take a look around
I was out in california where I hear they have it all
They got riots, fires, mud slides
Theyve got sushi in the mall
Water bars, brontasaurs, chinese modern lust
Shake and bake life with the quake
The secrets in the crust
Chorus:
Fruitcakes in the kitchen (fruitcakes in the kitchen)
Fruitcakes on the street (fruitcakes on the street)
Struttin naked through the crosswalk
In the middle of the week
Half-baked cookies in the oven (cookies in the oven)
Half-baked people on the bus (people on the bus)
Theres a little bit of fruitcake left in everyone of us
--spoken:
Speakin of fruitcakes, how bout the government?
Your tax dollars at work.
We lost our martian rocket ship
The high paid spokesman said
Looks like that silly rocket ship
Has lost its cone shaped head
We spent 90 jillion dollars trying to get a look at mars
I hear universal laughter ringing out among the stars
Chorus:
Fruitcakes in the galaxy (fruitcakes in the galaxy)
Fuitcakes on the earth (fruitcakes on the earth)
Struttin naked towards eternity
Weve been that way since birth
Half-baked cookies in the oven (cookies in the oven)
Half-baked people on the bus (people on the bus)
Theres a little bit of fruitcake left in everyone of us
--spoken:
Religion! religion! oh, theres a thin line between saturday
Night and sunday morning. here we go now.
Alright, alter boys.
Mea culpa mea culpa mea maxima culpa
Mea culpa mea culpa mea maxima culpa
Wheres the church, who took the steeple
Religion is in the hands of some crazy-ass people
Television preachers with bad hair and dimples
The gods honest truth is its not that simple
Its the buddhist in you, its the pagan in me
Its the muslim in him, shes catholic aint she?
Its the born again look its the wasp and the jew
Tell me whats goin on, I aint gotta clue
--spoken:
Now here comes the big ones. relationships! we all got em, we
All want em. what do we do with em?
Here we go, Ill tell ya.
She said you gotta do your fair share
Now cough up half the rent
I treat my body like a temple
You treat yours like a tent
But the right word at the right time
May get me a little hug
Thats the difference between lightning
And a harmless lightnin bug
Chorus:
Fruitcakes in the kitchen (fruitcakes in the kitchen)
Fruitcakes on the street (fruitcakes on the street)
Struttin naked through the crosswalk
In the middle of the week
Half-baked cookies in the oven (cookies in the oven)
Half-baked people on the bus (people on the bus)
Theres a little bit of fruitcake left in everyone of us
--spoken:
The future. captains log, stardate two thousand and something.
Were seven years from the millenium
Thats a science fiction fact
Stanley kubrick and his buddy hal
Now dont look that abstract
So Ill put on my bob marley tape
And practice what I preach
Get jah lost in the reggae mon
As I walk along the beach
Stay in touch with my insanity really is the only way
Its a jungle out there kiddies
Have a very fruitful day
Hey.
Chorus:
Fruitcakes in the kitchen (fruitcakes in the kitchen)
Fruitcakes on the street (fruitcakes on the street)
Struttin naked through the crosswalk
In the middle of the week
Half-baked cookies in the oven (cookies in the oven)
Half-baked people on the bus (people on the bus)
Theres a little bit of fruitcake left in everyone of us
--spoken:
Thats right, you too. yeah those crumbs are spread all around
This universe. Ive seen fruitcakes. I saw this guy in santa
Monica rollerskate naked through the crosswalk. down in new
Orleans in the french market there are fruitcakes like you cannot
Believe. new york, forget it. fruitcake city. down island, weve got
Fruitcakes. spread them crumbs around. thats right, we want
em around. keep bakin baby. keep bakin.
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Ballad Of Refreshment
The lady stood at the station bar,
(Three currants in a bun)
And oh she was proud, as ladies are.
(And the bun was baked a week ago.)
For a weekly wage she was standing there,
(Three currants in a bun)
With a prominent bust and light gold hair.
(And the bun was baked a week ago.)
The express came in at half-past two,
(Three currants in a bun)
And there lighted a man in the navy blue.
(And the bun was baked a week ago.)
A stout sea-captain he was, I ween.
(Three currants in a bun)
Much travel had made him very keen.
(And the bun was baked a week ago.)
A sober man and steady was he.
(Three currants in a bun)
He called not for brandy, but called for tea.
(And the bun was baked a week ago.)
'Now something to eat, for the train is late.'
(Three currants in a bun)
She brought him a bun on a greasy plate.
(And the bun was baked a week ago.)
He left the bun, and he left the tea,
(Three currants in a bun)
She charged him a shilling and let him be,
And the train went on at a quarter to three.
(And the bun is old and weary.)
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Characteristic Authenticity
genuine rings
with unique
personality
plagiarism
has a watered
down cliché
half baked feel
where dough fell
acidic flat failed
to set rise
in heated
expressive
hot endeavour
elements texture
life seasoned
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Do Re Mi
(earl king)
Do re me fa so la ti
This little creature was a-passing me
He got a whole lot of rhythm when he walks
And I can hear music, baby, when he talks
Do re mi fa so la ti
Forget about the dough and think about me, oh yeah
Do re mi fa so la ti
I wonder who can this creature be?
He aint no picture as I can see
But I dont care he looks so good to me
Do re mi fa so la ti
Forget about the dough and think about me
Do re mi fa so la ti
Id like to love you, yeah, yes sirree
It may sound crazy but its a fact
Hey tell me, baby, baby
How you gonna act?
Do re mi fa so la ti
Forget about the dough and think about me
Oh yeah
Do re mi fa so la ti
Lets get together and make whoopee
A b c d e f g
Cupids shootin arrows straight by me
Do re mi fa so la ti
Forget about the dough and think about me
A b c d e f g
The cats in the cupboard and you cant catch me
A b c d e f g
Forget about the dough and think about me
A b c d e f g
Cupids shootin arrows straight by me
Oh, yes
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A cake is a very good test of an oven: if it browns too much on one side and not on the other, it's not your fault - you need to have your oven checked.
quote by Delia Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cork and Sip
Sausage.
Beef and sautéed.
With a bit of soy sauce.
Bedded with sliced onions...
And green pepper.
Wrapped in foil.
Tin,
I prefer.
Baked in a preheated oven,
At 350 degrees.
And left for at least one half hour.
Then served with garden grown tomatos.
Appetize yourself with this.
Remove the cork and sip...
On your White Zinfandel!
'OH...
How could I forget the dashing of brown sugar?
Do it...
If you dare new sensations! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Fresh Graduate With A Scholar Tag
The fresh bread out of the oven,
May smell good, but has to be toasted.
The fresh graduates out of the universities,
May look smart, but have to be experienced.
What knowledge that can be obtained,
Reading through these heaps of books?
What intelligence that can be settled,
Doing all these assignment and paper work?
How efficiently that we are molded,
Attending those seminars and half baked workshops?
How out of world scholars are we,
When the lay man on the sites call us fools?
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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A Oven Liet
Where the flesh goes,
The mind follows.
The body is weak.
Why she left me alone.
How she got sick.
And no one calls the phone.
Never had to cook with her around
Now I found a light in the most unexpected place
The oven.
I sit in the dark tonight
In the kitchen
With only the oven light
While I try to mend.
And I brood like a chicken with her eggs
My seat feels like it's hatching
My bottom is burning
My soul squirming like a worm
Or a snake.
Yellow.
The color of companionship.
Cowardly, fearful, impertinent.
I stare into the oven
Light.
poem by Eon Ezkiel
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If hope could be a colour.
If hope could be a color
It would be baby blue
As blue as the sky
If hope could be a taste
It would be sweet lemonade
If hope could be a smell
It would be fresh baked cookies right out of the oven
If hope could be a sound
It would be the melody of everyday things
If hope could be a feeling
It would be an indescribable love
If hope could be an animal
It would be a baby bird.
poem by Sarina Parsakhian
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DIRTY CRAZY MONKEY SEX...by talile ali
DIRTY CRAZY MONKEY SEX
GRAB ME BY THE HAND
MAKE ME UNDERSTAND
HAD A MASTER PLAN
THE USE OF ALL OUR GLANDS
UP AND DOWN SHE GOES
OH HOW THE LADY KNOWS
WHAT TO STROKE AND WHAT TO BITE
THE LADY KNOWS JUST WHAT I LIKE
DIRTY CRAZY MONKEY SEX ME PLEASE
YOU GOT ME ON MY ACHING KNEES
YOU KNOW I WANT IT ALL THE TIME
THE WAY YOU DO ME, MAKE'S ME SHINE
PEEL MY ONION
WHILE YOU MAKE ME CREAM
A LIL BIT A ME
AND A WHOLE BUNCHA STEAM
I LIKE YOUR LOVIN ME
AFTER LUNCH
ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU'RE DOIN
ME A WHOLE BUNCH
LIKE DIRTY DANCIN
LIKE NAKED PRANCIN
AND THAT ALL
DAY ROMANCIN
NEED YOUR FUNKY LOVIN
DEEP INSIDE YOUR OVEN
NEED YOU NOW TO
BAKE MY LUSTS AWAY
I GOT THE RIGHT BREAD FOR YOUR OVEN
BAKED HARD WITH YOUR LOVIN
ENCUBATED BY YOUR NEED
TO PLEASE
WHILE MY LIPS ADDRESS YOUR BUST
I SIMPLY TURN TO DUST
IN THE ECSTACY OF
YOUR NEEDS
GET YOU NAKED IN MY BED
GRIND THEM LIPS AROUND MY HEAD
TILL YOUR HIPS ARE HARD AND FULL
READY FOR MY TAFFY PULL, BABY
LET MY GRIP COME ADDRESS YOUR WOOL, BABY
poem by Talile Ali
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Pancakes and With Baked Salmon
I do have this 'thing'
For my own homemade pancakes.
And with baked salmon!
What a treat to eat.
You are not going to get any that I make!
But here is the recipe.
You can do it just like me.
First beat an egg in a mixing bowl,
Add a tablespoon of baking powder.
A third teaspoon of salt
A full teaspoon of sugar.
And about a third cup of vegetable oil.
Beat that all together.
Now you want to add the flour.
About a cup...maybe more...
If you're serving more than two people.
I choose to use evaporated milk.
At least a cup.
Whip all this stuff up.
Heat that frying pan or griddle.
Medium to hot.
Add some olive oil if you got it.
Vegetable oil will do.
With a slice of butter added too!
OH! I almost forgot the salmon!
I use salmon steaks.
Preheat the oven 350 degrees.
After rinsing the salmon...
Rub with apple vinegar.
Salt and pepper if you please.
Lay on tin foil since this is what I use.
Add butter and a bit of oil!
Enclosed that salmon within the foil.
Baked twenty minutes.
That's all it takes!
ENJOY!
Use syrup on the pancakes.
Perhaps a little Vadalia Onion Dressing,
On the salmon.
And if you don't like this...
You definitely will love,
My brown sugar/mustard roasted chicken.
But I'm not sharing that right now!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Stand-Ins
In the dream
the swastika is neon
and flashes like a strobe light
into my eyes, all colors,
all vibrations
and I see the killer in him
and he turns on an oven,
an oven, an oven, an oven,
and on a pie plate he sticks
in my Yellow Star
and then
then when it is ready for serving—
this dream goes off into the wings
and on stage The Cross appears,
with Jesus sticking to it
and He is breathing
and breathing
and He is breathing
and breathing
and then He speaks,
a kind of whisper,
and says . . .
This is the start.
This is the end.
This is a light.
This is a start.
I woke.
I did not know the hour,
an hour of night like thick scum
but I considered the dreams,
the two: Swastika, Crucifix,
and said: Oh well,
it doesn't belong to me,
if a cigar can be a cigar
then a dream can be a dream.
Right?
Right?
And went back to sleep
and another start.
poem by Anne Sexton
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Eat A Bagel
The circle of bread happens to us in reality,
I call mine a bagel, you call yours something;
Rolls I withstand til the end of Time,
The differently baked food is always mine.
The real cooks have gin and all the wandering
In the kitchen, like the ones that do a job.
May we extract rolls and loaves from their hands
As we have from our predecessors, like that.
The circles of bread are finer to behold
Than the ones of stickiness and dough.
poem by Naveed Akram
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