The Phat Ladies of Malta or The Fat Ladies of Malta
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8 chicken thighs de-boned and flatened
16 slices of ham
16 slices of swiss cheese
roll ham and cheese in the chicken
to create a cigar shape
use tooth picks or skewers to secure in place
flour with seasoned flour
egg wash and breadcrumb mixture
sautee golden brown ( almost done)
remove from the pan set aside.
in a pan sautee 1 cup of onion
1/4 cup of red bell pepper
5 T of chopped celery
4 tablespoons of garlic in olive oil
carmilize. add 4 tablespoons of tomato puree
1 teaspoon of anchvie paste.
2 cups of marsala
squeeze one leom
1/4 of parlsey
1 teaspoon of sweet basil
1 cup of chicken stock
1 14 oz. can of artichoke hearts
1 teaspoon of cayeene pepper
1/2 cup of black olives
1/2 cup of sunflower
salt to taste or taste and salt. if to salty water it down.
simmer on lowish medium for 20 to 30 minutes.
serve with a salad and some garlic bread enjoy!
The majestic position of the lion
What they do, they all know.
They breadcrumb, sugarcoat,
they love-bomb, gaslight,
or sometimes just hoover or go with the flow.
But I cry and try till the end,
losing self-reliance, going insane;
because later I don't wanna feel sorry.
I can't live with a heavy chest full of thoughts of hurting others,
I don't wanna live with a repenting memory.
I can't let my head to bow
in guilt, in fear, in sin...
thus, I never leave, I outgrow.
Retracing all my steps
Still looking for the last breadcrumb
Trying to find my way back
From who I have become
Look up at the daylight
Thinking it will leave a clue
Shine a light on all my mistakes,
On what I thought I knew
I think i wanna go home
But I cant remember why
All the rooms there are haunted
All my plans go awry
So I'll walk until my feet bleed,
"Leave your shoes at the door".
Red-clay colored head to bone
Always leave me looking for more
The salt of their skin has its flayed
geometry, sharp crevices beneath
the classroom where my dark teeth
tried the savoury chalk and failed.
I have been a teacher for the sum
of my disjointed life; never knew
otherwise, never learnt, as I grew,
how to study the breadcrumb
where the heights have gathered.
My students, ants in my breath,
state they are builders of words
in silence and thrive, feathered
like fangless tigers, within death,
my blandest subterranean birds.
Or nearby country lanes and quaint front yards,
are the Eucalyptus Rainbow, streaked trees,
found in Southeast Asia island countries.
Two hundred twenty-foot tall tree safeguards,
its ninety-four-inch smooth orange-tint trunk,
growing in the lowlands and rainforest,
wood makes paper and cosmetics cherished.
It's pale green, red, grey, and puce, a slam dunk,
breathtaking wonderment countryside greats,
eye-catching kaleidoscopic spectrum,
arrangement stretched far away, no breadcrumb.
The advocate of nature illustrates,
through collective documents and accounts,
unthinkable odds descriptive recounts.
Our backyard
Whirlwind of summer firefly
Embers
Stirs up
From the long graves of grass
By the sprawling brooms of July 4th fireworks
Booming distant in the furled sky
Up high
The fire flies swirl to tree tops
Breadcrumb stars for swooping bats
Too many blinks to be gulped whole
Let it go
Paths split
Thunder fades to echoes
Consciousness is everywhere
So plentiful
Our heads tilt
Broken from their podiums
Like vandalized statues
Knees cracked ribs lanced
Still upright in the gallery of this summer
My wife and I
Hands freed from our marble robes
Hold together a single sparkler
Gaze to you
Private
Quiet
Uncertain future.
Seagulls talking
what's the matter?
fussy squawking
seagulls talking...
Waddle walking
pavement patter-
Seagulls talking
what's the matter?
Birds discussing
“Took my breadcrumb!”
Angry fussing
birds discussing
seagull cussing
“Hey, I want some!”
birds discussing
“Took my breadcrumb!”
The Quintessential Catering Company serves only quality foods beginning with a Q
To some this seems quirky and to others quite quaint
Q foods quickly quell hunger and queasiness
Quick oats and quinoa with quick bread and quince jam are a favorite breakfast pick
Quark and Queijo quiche qualify as a quality lunch offering
Quaglia marinated in Quebec beef spice is a popular dinner choice
Quimbombo and pit roasted Quamash sides accompany this course
Queen of Puddings and some Quesitos are offered for dessert
Forget the queue quickly query Quintessential for your next Q food event
Definition of some Q food listed in poem
Quark-German farm cheese
Queijo- Portuguese cheese
Quaglia- Italian quail,
Quebec Beef Spice-a meat seasoning
Quimbombo-Spanish okra stew
Quamash- bulb of Camas lily with a taste similar to a sweet potato, but sweeter
Quesitos- Cream cheese turnovers
Queen of Puddings- a traditional British dessert, consisting of a baked, breadcrumb-thickened mixture, spread with jam and topped with meringue.
By Mark Miller © 08/13/2014
Random blackout seizure disorder
Of space time stairwell left to wear
Quickly flames ghastly formless suffer
Sprinkle spring showers drown
Fractal mist string melody
From Carnival's side show act of comedy
Sketch drawn skewer skits flash
Figurines in dance gown tears
Watching presence moon lit frights
Presentation scenes
Unkind behind wishful
Requisitions been denied
Head ways upon strange days
Mystery novel hero burns away
Clatter clash seas’ roaming waves
Frenzied feast flight saves
Peevish night lives delay
Badly needful daybreak
Frailty heals our surface broken scars
Trailing breadcrumb souls depart
Wandering thickets torn apart
Steam ship’s last land shadow’s
Ahead distant port horizon
Leaving lasting barren impression
When the biting slap of recognition impacts, unbridled eternity springs forth, as Emily Dickinson's "Wild nights" rides the wave in front of me.
He's back again, this time with whiskey breath and redneck vehemence, revved up to conquer.
Maybe this lifetime, a breadcrumb in the Sahara of the souls incessant trial,
just once the twins will meet as one.
I left a breadcrumb trail back to you.
There were photos, what was left of them
after years of handling,
Hiding them in the back of my desk drawer, daily,
worn and folded, and some in pieces.
Out of sight, out of mind?
No.
And your written words --
written with a scratchy pen
because it’s all we had,
and we had all we needed.
No TV because watching you sleep
was much better.
And I dared not wake you, but why?
I supposed that when you were sleeping
That you dreamt of me and you,
Because you had a half smile sometimes.
When you fell asleep you had chosen to stay
in this world of comfort and trust,
devotion and love.
You wake and my fear creeps in.
Sleep, sweet prince, and dream of us again.
No time to think about my flaws,
short-comings, the real me –
or your plan your escape.
Thoughts I still can’t bear.
The bread crumbs carefully placed are still there.
I can follow them now, but only if
I can watch you sleep again,
dreams of me and you,
and your half smile.
Sleep, sweet prince, and dream of us again.
Perched on a limb
High above the ground
Sat a little birdie
Looking all around
Peering down among the people
He cried with glee
I see a tiny breadcrumb
Just waiting for me!
Soon the little birdie
Flew to the ground
Pecked at the breadcrumb
But failed to look around.
Then one of the people
With a gleam in his eye
Stomped the little birdie
And watched him die.
The moral to this story
Is always look around
And never eat your dinner
Sitting on the ground.
by a proxy delivered
a days sour face
its painted eye fixed on jacob's ladder
and salvation's cherubs
who seven times sevenfold tell the tale
but the tale is threadbare by the time they have spun the spin
all call each other rookies as they verbally fistfight
over the breadcrumb leavings
charred remains of her melted mind
smoulder weakly in the
interment rain
she would sit in the dirt
sketching beautiful things
known for being pretty for all the eyes that don't see
leaving the brick and mortar life
for everything imagination tells you
is so beautiful
you don't want to change the world
just want your world to change
A lot can change in a
year or two, many ups
and downs feeling like
the colour blue. This
much is true I've always
loved you.
No matter what situation
we're in, a text row a fall
out over who? This much
is true I've always loved
you.
So when times are hard and
you contemplate what's going
through my mind. Realise every
things going to be just fine. This
much is true I've always love
you.
When you get back home I shall
not be gone! You've obviously
missed my breadcrumb clues.
This much is true I'll always
love you!
A priceless road I find
dangerous game blasphemy,
Wing destiny. To my statue,
leaning forward and less
backward down helpless knees,
begging for A breadcrumb, asking
blood red wine. Quenching
thirst of the almighty to his
throne, for what we don't
know, we will learn to speak
tongue as we follow his
nameless lemon drop
in the lion's den feeding
all who starve... With thunder Nuff
Love!!!!!! God has handed
freely..... Striking, I dare not abuse
thy neighbor shooting anger
out thy hatred for the angels
scatter... A natures beast, Galour
Which has released mi from evil.... As we
come heaven's door,crawling
to meet his feet...... Tu wash dem
Clean.
Tribute tu di mi teacher, who has expanded mi mind to be A great writer; Richard Palmer..... Thanx mi friend and soul- mate for our strength will cury pon.
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