Best Recipes Poems
I ran across a recipe book
Called ‘Cuisine For Clientele’,
On the cover was an unchaste cook
Making prosti-soup and broth-el.
On the back it stated that ‘Eating
Is the most human obsession.
Bar for the one that bears repeating;
The world’s oldest profession.’
At first look I was taken aback,
But placed it in my hand cart.
Then at home found it was amply stacked
With cocottes and luscious tarts.
In no time flat, I got courageous
When I summoned up the nerve.
To prepare from the worn pages,
A plate of red-hot, whore-d’oeuvres.
Followed by the main course of shell fish;
A meal fit for baronets.
For ours and the books paramount dish,
Are fresh trollops on strumpets.
Sure it’s true that most of the recipes
May seem sexist and campy,
But don’t fear, coz two of its specialties
Are beef cake and pimp scampi.
For dessert we hope our guests have fun
When they wrestle for Jello.
They say it’s the best under the sun,
Though born from a Bordello.
Aroused guests always leave satisfied,
Although some try to be cute.
Yet failed no matter how hard they’ve tried
Matching my book of ill repute!
From fruit scones, to meat pie,
Apple crumble and coffee cake,
Sunday tea was amazing,
Because, my Granny sure could bake.
Secret ingredients, she wouldn't divulge,
Passed down from years gone by,
When I look back on those days,
It brings a tear to my eye.
From butterfly buns, to Victoria sponge,
A moist fruit loaf, filled with flavour,
Jam tarts and gingerbread men,
For the kids to savour.
Sausage rolls and a birthday cake,
Made for a special party tea,
Cheese and onion pie a fresh baked loaf,
All made especially for family.
Granny's recipes are the best recipes,
Made of all things nice,
A Granny's love as the main ingredient,
To add that extra bit of allspice.
OUR MASGOUF
The fishes have high wings, but they can feel our deep pain like sisters. Yes, we are the fishes’ brothers and any halo you may see in the dark night is a birthday of this brotherhood. Come here and see the seeds of this earth in an ancient Sumerian tablet, which its recipes were shining as the sun. In that Iraqi mud, you can see the smoke of our Masgouf and you may smell its exciting flavor. It is residing in our dreams like the moon, and we delightedly disappear in its perfume with the butterflies. The face of our Masgouf is pure, and I will be so happy if you can see its chants dancing as fairies at their small riverbanks.
THE MAGIC DOLMA
The small girls in our gardens knew nothing about the flowers or their breathtaking colors, but they are so efficient in making of magic Dolma. In the morning they meet a green dove, and listen to her chants. They are soft and pure exactly as our Dolma’s smiles. She teaches our girls the art of Dolma and the secret of grape’s leaves with a smooth voice and gentle hands. This Dolma’s master is so soft and deep, and she can color the girls’ hearts with the wedding dresses.
THE KEBAB GLORY
The Iraqis can’t live without war or Kebab, and can’t smell the morning breeze without their deep voices. Our souls were kneaded with the sad Kebab’s Sumac and the tears of war. Our dreams had immersed in the Kebab’s perfume and straggled in the desert of sad Sumac. Yes, you need the Iraqi sad smiles to find the Kebab’s sublime glory.
I picked up Grandma’s recipe book the other day…the one she made just for me…written in her own hand and filled with my favorite recipes.
On the first page of my cookbook…these words…always waiting for me…
‘It’s easy to be a good cook’ she wrote, ‘just follow the recipe!’
As I leafed through the pages in Grandma’s recipe book…hopping from recipe to recipe…I realized I was also leafing through pages of my memory.
I feel blessed to have Grandma’s recipes…blessed she taught me how to cook…
and blessed for the one recipe…she didn’t have write down in my book.
It was her recipe for living…this one I know by heart…
so I will never leave out an ingredient…never forget a part…
Find some moments every day…she taught…to enjoy this life you’re living…
discover the pleasures in a smile and the comfort of forgiving.
Take a walk in silence…you don’t have to travel very far…
to witness the beauty of the trees…or the wonder of the stars.
Laugh and play and work with your heart…your soul…your mind…
and never miss an opportunity to be gentle…to be kind
Stop and smell the flowers…play with babies…marvel at rainbows in the sky…
and always save room after every meal…for a cookie…or some pie.
I’ve memorized her recipe for living…it’s the road in life I took…
and when I’m hungry for a cookie or a pie…no problem…
I have Grandma’s recipe book.
Knowing how to live and what to cook have always been easy for me…
all I have to do is follow Grandma’s recipe.
Marie's recipes finger-licking, why
poor Raymond lived dangerously close by
Deborah sure not expert
pretty disgruntled Robert
gourmand Dad happily gulped the whole pie!
March 31, 2022
Inspired by TV show: Everybody Loves Raymond
Lines 1,2,3 - 10 syllables, Lines 3, 4 - 7 syllables
For "On A Lim" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
FIRST PLACE
Creativity swims within me
then put in a splash of whimsy
add in imagination
then pour in intuition
this is a good Pisces recipe!
But for a special 'ME' recipe
I'll add in me being dreamy
just let me escape
I'll fly, sans the cape
Books and pens, and I am all happy
Hmm this limerick is a bit corny
I so wanted this to be funny!
too bad I can't think
afraid it would stink
like a fish flopping up on its belly
** August 9, 2010
for pd's Zodiac Race Contest :)
If you're reading this, honey
it means the diner is burning,
It's not a typo or a misprint,
but a message:
Witches are wisdom-embedded
women who have seen worse things
than the business end of a newt's behind
I once made a man cry with desire
on a whim by telling him who he was
at twenty-five, I hadn't yet realized
it's really just a trick of language
to be specific
pick the bits of a person, hanging
like snagged teeth on stems
of last night's arugula
reading their cards like tarot on credit
serve the assessment of them
with a side of sugar they'll call it magic,
make you marry if you're good at it—knowing
when to grind the spices is the icing
sin of men or Saigon cinnamon no matter
witches as women, as wisdom get better
in time, in the garden, in the kitchen
slow-cooking rhymes that melt men's masks
over jasmine rice, like loose meat
so the young girls feeding at our hems
can remember the recipe
The chicken soup’s a’boil,
Fluffy matzoh balls on tap.
We’ll use lots of eggs and oil
By the time we call a wrap.
All the pots and pans are waiting,
And the cookie sheets as well,
For the food we are creating
Which tradition does compel.
As we roast and bake and simmer
For this Friday’s festive meal,
I feel more than just a glimmer
Of this holiday’s appeal.
There’ll be dishes on the table
Made from recipes of old
And each taste will thus enable
Reminiscence to take hold.
Rob Brezsny reports
In 2004, San Rafael hosted a World Conference of Soul-Making
resulting in three schools for best PeaceMaking practices,
to which I will add one
more democratically inclusive,
less autonomously exclusive.
"The Ruminators
theorized that humans are born without [divine] souls
and can create them only through arduous,
disciplined rebellion against all [trauma-informed] belief systems.
The Resonators
agreed that soul [peace] isn't innate,
but insisted that soul-making is by no means difficult
...gathering good [health-humor] stories is effective [necessary]
and not at all hard [resiliently sufficient].
The Revelators
said every [individual] person is born with a [peace-full monotheistic] soul
in seed form,
and need only discover the [organic] 'blueprint'
of that [individual] seed
in order to attract the [anthropocentric] experiences
necessary to draw out its [integrity's] potential."
Regenerators
win/win hypothetically agree with all of the above,
born with a potential integrating peace seed,
we struggle with systemic traumas
win v lose dualistic pathological dramas
painfully dissociative
devolutionary ruminations
yet also
celebrate our greatest Gaian Synergy Story
of inter-religiously ecological
cooperative revolutionary culminations
resonantly anticipating
health-climaxing wealth
of panentheistic pronoia.
Re-ligiously con-scientious peace-making
within universally engaged
neurosystemic unitarian mindbody
and
compassionately pleased
ecosystemic bodymind
Re-membering roundly resonant Gaia's
mystical polyamorous vulnerability
historical pronoia transparency
anticipating interdependent EarthTribe's
soul-communing peace communications.
Once again, adding a culminating four-fractal fold
to three interdependent dimensions
closes a four-season healthy
regeneratively wealthy
peace-development story
Inviting our polyculturally expectant revisit
for yet more win/win synergetic soul food
Re-ligiously feeding spiritual Resonator minds of
con-scientiously breeding natural Revelator bodies for
re-viving more sacredly compassionate Ruminators singing
organically co-pleasuring ReGenerators dancing
to soul-full musing EarthPeace.
I am a collector of cookbooks from every store,
I can never have enough I always need more.
Cookbooks with pretty food pictures galore,
I find them on every shore.
When I travel near and far,
I find a cookbook that is a real star.
With thousands of great recipes to cook,
How in the world do I just take one look?
Cookies are oh so sweet,
Much better than a red beet.
Maybe I need to look up meat,
We can add some cheese and let’s eat.
Maybe a salad will be healthy,
But I don’t think it will make me wealthy.
Hundreds of cookbooks are lined up in a row,
I hope they do not fall on my toe.
Now off to my kitchen to see what I will cook,
Should I read a cookbook for just one more look?
7/13/2019
They’ve all saved Grandma’s recipes…some they know by heart…many in a copy of the book she wrote them in…for it is often amidst her recipes…where memories of her begin.
Whenever they read her handwriting…sort through her ingredients…turn on a mixer…pick up a knife…whenever they bake what Grandma baked…it brings her back to life.
For it is surrounded by Grandma’s recipes…
where aromas of her are strongest…
Where, when they close their eyes and smile,
her memories linger longest
Hi everyone,
We are participating in a collective, constructive and hopefully TASTY experiment.
If you have a spare moment we hope you willl participate.
We picked those we think will make this fun.
Please send a recipe to the person whose name is in position #1 at the bottom of this letter even if you don't know him/her.
It should be something quick and easy without rare ingredients.
Actually the best receipe is one you know in your head and can type right now.
Don't agonize over it, it's one you make when you're short of time.
After you've sent the receipe to the person in postion #1 below, AND ONLY THAT PERSON,
copy this letter into a new e-mail.
Move my name to position #1 and put your name in position #2
Only my and your name should appear on the e-mail
Send it to 20 of your friends. BCC (blind copy)
If you can't do this in 5 days please let us know so it will be fair to those participating.
You should receive 36 receipes.
It's fun to see where they will come from.
Seldom does anyone drop out because we all need new ideas.
The turnaround is fast because there are only 2 names on the list and you only have to do it once.
Thanks
1) Judy Ball [email protected]
2) Lynn Banks
My cooking skills changed my sad mood,
I learned them by watching patient mom in relentless motion
as she put much passion in her tasty food...
who could resist not giving it a try and carry on that devotion?
In the steamy kitchen, she spent a lifetime inventing great, exquisite recipes;
a self-made chief in her own right with neat apron and white cap;
one must have thought she was on the way to the Emmy's nomination festivities
to pick up her golden trophy...oh, I still laugh remembering that!
"Don't stick your finger in my batter, son...raw eggs might make
you sick!" mother ordered. " Wait until it's baked,
then you can eat as much as you like!" I froze, thinking of no trick...
oh, that spoon dripping with sweet batter I licked!
Mom no longer could prepare large meals for our hungry family,
she succumbed to grave illness, hoping I would take up that unbroken tradition...
and it made her so glad, sensing the bond of her precious legacy;
a massive list of recpes was the everlasting gift to me with profound affection.
For what I know, I can write a book.
I have spent nearly my whole life as a cook.
There are so many recipes that are fabulous.
Some are simple while others are a fuss.
However, it all comes out great in a bowl or a plate.
Want to try a sample? I'll bet you can't wait!
Inspired by another member's poem
Is There Any Chocolate Bars Out There – Recipes Needed
All the planets are just too far
For me to drive there in my car
I therefore can’t go there to explore
To see if they have chocolate bars
But wouldn’t it be so much fun
To Snickers to them up there some
My deep fried choco bars
Which we agree are not all yours
So, until my Mercury bar makes it way
As the Universal dish of the day
Up there in the Milky Way
We can still enjoy all that Mars goo
As we work, rest and play up there too
Whilst we travel all the way to Neptune
Or even on to Pluto to
Easter eggs though is my next plan
As I think that I can
Work out where Mars and the Moon
Means I come back to you very soon
After I wash off all the goo
When I have found the coconuts too
For our new Bounty home
So no more Twix or silly tricks,
I will just give to you chocolate
Whether made in Heaven, or the Milky Way
If you want some just come and stay.
My Premature - Happy Easter Poem - Apologies all!
09/02/2019
DAMO