Boiled kasha
Steamed cassava
Sell at plaza.
Categories:
kasha, appreciation, desire, food, perspective,
Form: Than-Bauk
There are people who never will eat
Food that’s left-over, whether it’s meat,
Salad, veggies or pie;
I don’t really know why -
Guess they simply don’t like to repeat.
That’s not me, for I so hate to waste
Food that one time my table has graced,
That it may take a week
And be slightly past peak,
But I’ll eat ‘til the very last taste.
To all those who are holding back sneers,
It’s okay, for the food disappears
And most times, I don’t mind,
But this week, was resigned
Since the kasha* was up to my ears!
*a grain served with pasta bow ties
(called kasha varnishkes), traditionally
served at the Jewish New Year
Categories:
kasha, food,
Form: Limerick
Buy a challah - make it round.
Cook some kasha - lightly browned.
Bake a brisket, with a mound
Of onions on the top.
Lots of vino to be downed.
Honey cakes to add a pound.
Hugs and wishes to abound
And smiles that never stop.
Hear the shofar's plaintive sound.
Links to childhood somehow found.
Ready now - we're New Year bound -
New sins to which we'll cop!
(Rosh Hashanah is the Jewish New Year,
where whatever sins you've committed
in the past year are erased.)
Categories:
kasha, holiday, jewish,
Form: Rhyme
“The New York Times” was this group’s original name.
Within two years, they were garnering fame.
Two women and three men sang in wonderful harmony
in clubs around Baltimore and Washington, DC.
Mama Cass Elliott was noted for their discovery.
She often joined them in a Mamas and Papas medley.
As their popularity continued to grow,
this group changed its name to “The Peppermint Rainbow”.
They were signed to the record label known as “Decca”.
Their first and only album was produced by Paul Leka.
The group’s one big hit was penned by Al Kasha.
The title to this 1968 hit was “Will You Be Staying After Sunday”.
This song went high up the charts in its day.
Although this gang is no longer around,
we can still hear their sunshine pop sound.
Thanks to wikipedia.org online encyclopedia and all music.com for information I obtained to write this poem.
Categories:
kasha, dedication, music, tribute,
Form: Rhyme
THINGS THAT MAKE ME SMILE
Cats sitting on a fence-posts with curled-up tail wrapped around neatly.
Penguins waddling off-balance, out of their element completely.
Babies snuggled up with only nose showing in a crib so small,
With their tiny miraculous fingers all gripped into a roll.
Children the world over, just being children,
Who smile and climb, and laugh, and run.
Ships of all kinds, best seen in the US Navy.
Steamed kasha fried up with rich brown gravy. *
Heroes gaining true love with some impossible feat.
Close multi- voice harmony with a Beach Boys beat.
Maps , especially big ones, of almost any place.
My wife coming towards me any time, her smiling face.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
*kasha is a Russian dish made with buckwheat, mmmmmm
Categories:
kasha, happiness, me,
Form: Light Verse
FOOD TALK
Got home at six thirty
Looked in fridge, at liberty
To choose dietary perfection
Or tasty delectation.
Sitting cold on a plate
My wife’s kasha spoke to me,
Saying, “ Yesterday they all ate
But all you had was a cup of tea
And my flavour you didn’t taste
You didn’t savour, oh such a waste.”
Plate whispered, “Eat me now,”
So I sat down there to chow.
‘Twas Wonderland Alice’s “Eat me.”
I grew in size, felt marvellous.
Maybe Lewis Carroll’s wife - she
Cooked too and made him abdominous.
Categories:
kasha,
Form: Light Verse
SMOKING ON NEVSKY PROSPEKT
Late summer - too tired to try
To keep up with world going by
Anonymous face a foreign voice
Girl with dark eye-shade of choice
Man unsmiling in leather jacket
Passing me and my cigarette packet
The noise of buses on the breeze
The canal-boat tours under the trees
Smells of borsch and kasha please
Ice cream women in their cool oases
Petersburg sun fading fast
This cigarette will be my last
Categories:
kasha,
Form: Couplet