Kittin of San Jose, how charming is your look,
silky satiny skin, bright eyes and your voice meeow,
every day I fall hopelessly in love with you !
even before I get up from bed in the morning,
I hear your footsteps on the stairs descending,
lured by, probably the mouth-watering aroma of breakfast waiting!
Hearty and healthy breakfast done, you head towards computer room,
checking emails is the first thing, begins our schedule
“Work from home” is the norm nowadays, so no driving in hefty traffic,
iPhone calendar reminds a business meeting at ten in the morning.
You get busy with master’s proofreading proposals,
in between a few bites of “dry food” grabbing.
Hi Dear Kittin, you remind me of my childhood friend “Tintin”
I was obsessed with, in my teenage years,
designing chips, now my expertise,
I share the skills with you, a brilliant colleague,
together we stand as reigning partners,
champions in a challenging market,
City of San Jose, silicon valley of America,
a competitive economy,
victorious pair - scientists of tomorrow’s world -
appreciate you and me!
encountered Kittin
San Jose computer champ
job designing chips
The aim of news is to widespread anxiety
To add more stress inside and out just for fun
We play the readers, posing the society
Among those out for a morning run
The social myth about the media is trivial
Nobody opens stuff under the good headlines
Bad stuff’s far more attractive and believable
We feel the edge of these ill-fated times
But what’s left in the end, reminds a song
Yesterday’s Papers by the Stones, it gives some tips
Although the papers didn’t last too long
Weren’t they useful at the time for wrapping chips
These days we serve the digital completeness
Newspapers gone, our chips are boxed and wet
Tactility gets shrunk, that dual purpose sweetness
Remains a memory, which hasn’t faded yet.
Poets say that Love is everything
Artists give it much but just a start
Convinced hearts like paintings
Forever in progress I sense having
Dabbled also in studios of romantic
Art --
A brush stoke here, a warmth
Of color, unsigned for Love’s
Playful compositions when true
Never entirely done –
The poet writes, the artist shows
His voice charms, Her canvas glows
Everything lost, everything won
No greater wager than chips of love --
Food for dinner when I'm to choose
I won't lose fish as most favourite item.
Salmon, tuna or any kind, I won't mind .
However I must take boiled rice or bread toast.
Also, chips of either potato or raw banana
Notably I’m strict to the point :
Dinner should be always light.
Corn or carrot soup I really prefer.
Habituated to take at start.
Important to include boiled peas and beans.
Pretty menu, enough for me.
Simple yogurt to finish dinner.
I eat a piece of fudge
it lands on my hips
great
I devour a potato chip
she travels to one of my tummy rolls
I see her happily settling down
I slurp down biscuits and gravy
Feel my butt get fluffy and puffy
starting to look frightful
The Angry Little Chipmunk spotted his prey...
He moved into position, ready to Pounce!
But a Rabid Squirrel, took his nuts for a whirl...
No Way! Each day I'm getting thinner by the Ounce!
I can't bring myself
to read the front page news
with which they string us along
as portrayed by the views
of those with a vested interest
or the rest with an axe to grind
who must think we're all
just deaf dumb and blind
to the truth of which there's more
in the speech balloons
of the funny characters
in the Sunday cartoons
they're merely a means of selling
ink-stained pulp derived from wood
it's all a waste of paper
other than those comic strips
and really only good
for wrapping fish and chips
The premise goes everyone knows
before entering the premises
while still outside yet on the mat
it's no gentleman who forgets
to doff his cap or remove his hat
if dining out or at a private party
for a particular person
it's impolite at most
to sip slurp or slink a drink
before the toast to a hospitable host
and when beside the table laden
confronted by the salsa bowl
biting then re-dipping chips
the most unmannerly of all
is he (or she) who double-dips
Mr. Potato
a.k.a., Spud Murphy
'I'll have another cigarette,'
as John Lennon (1940 – 1980) writ,
'And curse Sir Walter Raleigh (1552 – 1618)
he was such a stupid git.'
However,
(altho' to his cost)
it may have
gone to his head
(which, unluckily, later he lost),
Raleigh introduced
the noble potato
(the blight of Ireland)
into Britain — ca. 1586,
and what's more
tobacco it did eclipse,
so yes indeed, his is the face
that launched a thousand chips.
Squawking you awake
feathered seaside hooligans
Watch out for your chips!
the frail ice splinters
a weighty wind wanders
in idle bluster
He likes to wait until his lingering end,
sitting on the beach with fish and chips.
Often wonders what life is about.
Why is that boat there, that ship farther out, and yet another?
Will they still be there when he is not?
Will he still be here when they are gone?
How many chips and how much fish
will still be in this greaseproof paper?
Enough salt and vinegar here?
Or should he go for more?
Waiting for a lingering end
can be quite perplexing, even strange.
(4 Sep 2023)
"fish and chips"
at a monestary
was a friar but
i loved
the chip
monk
the best
How anyone can say “no thank you” to hot chips
l do not understand
The enticing smell so completely irresistible
For hot chips l would swim ocean and walk land!
Warm and comforting on a cold day
A must when by the sea
Accompanied with salt and vinegar
Or ladened and covered in gravy
At the end of a lovely summers day
Basking in the warmth of the evening
To end that perfect day
Hot chips please….a-steam’n!
Hot chips just by themselves
Or as a strong right hand man
Always the perfect offsider
So versatile…. eat them as you can
I often hear the salty sound of hot chips a-calling me
“Are you on your way….we are waiting Deb”
Out of sheer politeness “only”…..my reply “Yes I am”
How rude would l be if l said “No” instead!!
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