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Mariana Pavlich Poem
Chef 's Winter dishes are simply delicious, not too much oil or cream.
Rich or plain, taste tested to perfection, tiny portions sometimes steamed
He starts the day with freshly squeezed orange juice,coffee and toast.
And embarks on a fitness journey along the seaside in Adelaide.
Today he is going to create a seafood bisque inspired by his walk.
This morning whilst walking along the beach he noticed the outgoing
Tide and outlet left a long groove with definite honeycombe indentations
snaking parallel to the shore for a distance near a giant swirly starfish.
From an aerial perspective it looked like a Christo dragon , hardened ripples
representing the scales and the sometimes swirling patterns here and there
where the giant Sea-dragon moved, slithered or shifted about in the sand .
The Sea-Dragon must have laid there for some time before he disappeared
as his scales were deeply impressed and clearly embossed in the firm sand.
A clear body of water flowed in the center of this outlet echoing the scales
shimmering and gleaming with sunlight smoothly on the groove's surface.
Upon seeing this ,Chef etched it in his memory and began to mentally gather
ingredients for his creation.How could he give his bisque the dragon flavour?
Grilling the whiting, prawns and scallops with butter laced with honey , chilli,
cardamon + crushed nuts , garlic, a dash of brandy.......
then adding chicken stock , lime , thyme ,cracked pepper , rock sea salt and
finally pureeing the lot with a splash of coconut milk.
Copyright © Mariana Pavlich | Year Posted 2006
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Mariana Pavlich Poem
Sea horizon in the distance ...a clean line.... a quiet shore
Every day the ocean washes up something new on its sandy floor...
Today, the sea formed haystacks of seaweed piled quiet high
Yesterday sea sponges and fan-shells lapped the crunchy sands
Gentle humming of soft ocean sounds humms by to and fro
Seagulls squawking , flying in unison form a V- like kite formation
Their pale eyes widen as red feet and beaks hover and flutter
Two yellow labradors swimming and weaving from shore to ocean
Bounding gracefully into the water , chasing and jumping in unison
Tirelessly,effortlessly running along their beloved ocean shore.
Young dogs greet each other in an excitedly ,friendly fashion.
Horses hoof prints embedded gracefully in the shoreline sand....
Broken glass edges made smooth with the sands abrasion
Oh wonderful mobile reflecting the sunlights warm sensations!
Copyright © Mariana Pavlich | Year Posted 2006
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Mariana Pavlich Poem
Sensitive ears of nature I have
found.
Poetry is not the sight of words
but the sound.
Spoken,sung or played on a guitar...
Human, machine,instrument or nature.
Any of these are cool as long
as they're written down.
A flute playing, a bird singing ,
a car engine starting.
Someone whipping , chopping,
cooking in the kitchen.
Hear it first, then write it down.
For what is poetry but the text
of
the sound that you've found?
Copyright © Mariana Pavlich | Year Posted 2005
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Mariana Pavlich Poem
To my Moonbeam leaping stag,
box of miscellaneous keys two
little shelves your favorite chicken
salad with pot of Lady Grey tea.
Royal jelly honey-based receipe
all natural retorative toiletries.
Splendid Summer afternoon
strolling and chatting in the deep
wicker chair at the old country house.
Copyright © Mariana Pavlich | Year Posted 2006
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Mariana Pavlich Poem
The heavy odor of lavender polish softly opened the door
Peeling paint family holiday house timber-slated chairs
Orange-flower water the tick-tock of the grandfather clock
Pruning orange fruit trees which grew behind the house
Sunlight streaming into the room through sloping window
onto a table, box of cigarettes a carved pipe and a photo.
Hanging from the mirror by two ribbons, a little plush hat.
Sweet air scented with potting earth and horse manure
A valley tumbled into a blue-green canopy of forest gums
Humming sofly under her breath they threaded their way
Glittering eyes rain dripping eyelashes corkscrew curls
Living in a woodland forest cottage like country princesses
White painted railings polished wooden floors glass inset
Orchards laden with blossoms, tea on the valley verandah
White chocolate eclairs rosehip apple and Lady Grey teas
Vegetable garden ,lavender ,daisies , foxgloves and roses.
Thicket of hazel,holly and brambles coated the under slope
Antique French doors large wooden shutters,blue tint spiral
An orchard that glows red in the sunset from the studio
Glimpse of fine white teeth, challenging smile fan aflutter
Enchanted room night of candlelight sweetly familiar odors
Catching tadpoles + baby frogs in the lilly and crocus pond
Copyright © Mariana Pavlich | Year Posted 2006
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Mariana Pavlich Poem
French madamoselles Favorite harmonica music Cafe
Perfectly poised coifferd perfumed elegantly sipping in
Floral velvet suit gloves hat matching shoes+handbags
Sitting gossipping giggling intoxicating atmosphere
Exclusive Famous impressionist artists french cafe
Gladly accomodates all dogs from first class owners
Pink diamonde studded chihuhaua , Lola+pink poodle
Huge bulging eyes wet little nose snubs all doggy bags
Pink poodle ,Pepe patiently waits to order chicken pate
Waiter white apron whips pencil behind ear Anticipation
Accepts her envelope on small silver tray + huffs away
Copyright © Mariana Pavlich | Year Posted 2006
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Mariana Pavlich Poem
Hey,hey! It's the Bohemia Cafe!Barry and Kirra'd greet you and say
"Hi there! Pleased to meet Chai!"
Barry and Kirra they say had a crazy Cafe where musicians would
go to jam and play.
You'd go...Through the kitchen and down the secret staircase to the
round dusty table where people
played for hours.`
When Barry met Kirra their world revolved around the Bohemia Cafe
the story is told...
You could go there anytime to order coffee,chat and listen to Kirra
play "Gypsy Caravan"on her clarinet.
Once you bought your coffee, Kirra would never bother you to clear your
table or buy another cup.
Sometimes customers would do the dishes,and at one stage Barry's
curries were quite delicious.
Then you'd go through the kitchen,down the narrow,steep staircase
to the secret lounge room of the Bohemia Cafe.
Every Sunday night an Irish Orchestra would swarm and settle in the cafe.
and the other musicians would go downstairs to play.
On Teusday nights people would come for chess to win their quests,while
guests happily blended at their own tables.
Poetry nights were Wednesdays and occasionally some almost famous
poets would gather,recite and be toastmasters for the night....
Till the tension grew so thick in the smoke-filled joint,you could
cut it with a knife.
Yes, the point is...the Bohemia
was in its heyday in the 1990's.
Many an artist and poet would have
gone there.
It reminds me of what a true
"Beatnik" cafe would've been like.
Copyright © Mariana Pavlich | Year Posted 2005
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Mariana Pavlich Poem
Understanding the new generation.
They have their own language.
Their own new meanings to the same words.
They have their own communication + lingo.
Has it not been the same with each new
generation in history?
They discover a new style that is shocking
to the older generations.
Adjoining generations seem to listen
to each other.
At which point do the generations do not want
to listen.
Where is this gap?
Spelling is different for the same words.
A lot of abbreviated text is used.
There seems to be an absence of books amongst
dvds + cds.Has this interior design element
been overlooked?
Is there a new dictionary to accommodate the
new generations?
Or is this just how life is?
Copyright © Mariana Pavlich | Year Posted 2005
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Mariana Pavlich Poem
Sweet-scented lupins , foxgloves , violas , giant lillies ,damasks ,
mosses and china roses rich in a variety of perfumes and colours
Circular herb beds, rare , exotic climbers on the Elizabethan wall.
Overhanging undergrowth winding little path past rose flowerbeds
Nestled among large mossy rocks rays of sunlight filtered through
round tables set with candles, crystal and Middle Ages crockery.
In each guests place was a little red box tied with a gold ribbon.
At the Castle , it sprang out of an impulsive hearthside challenge
Natures needs are lavish in Spring with light and dark capacities
Blossoming artfully full of sweetness + light or dark and Gothic.
Clever deep forest kitchen stone pantry glittering with candlelight
glowing and smouldering with a sage smoked medieval orchestra
Angel cake and hot-buttered muffins, bursting with peel + cherries
Wood sprites ancient merry rituals ,folklore primeval forest sounds
Knights templar greet Friar Tuck with gold gifts + flowers of chivalry
Interwoven drapery brilliant string musicians on chellos and violins
The chink of champagne glasses rustle of silk and trailing chiffon.
Breathtakingly beautiful green eyes sparkled her white slender hand
Blazing fire, rich ,dark fruit cake,she leaned against the trunk of a tree
Her long dark hair flowing in the secret garden enchanted hideaway
Copyright © Mariana Pavlich | Year Posted 2006
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Mariana Pavlich Poem
The Metal plunged into the nitric
acid mix releases yellow fumes.
Heavy workman's gloves.
Ventilation...
The acid splattering onto the skin
burns leaving yellow stains.
Apply water.
The image now etched into the metal
bubbles where the image is left raw.
Ventilation....
Gas mask and eye goggles.
How do you know how long to leave
the metal plate in the acid?
Timer.
Deep etches left in longer,
create deeper grooves.
Your Love is like nitric acid
Eating away at my heart.
Copyright © Mariana Pavlich | Year Posted 2006
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