Long Cardamom Poems
Long Cardamom Poems. Below are the most popular long Cardamom by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cardamom poems by poem length and keyword.
Pleurotus ostreatus var. columbinus and Allium sativum and Olea europaea and Piper nigrum and Bos Taurus and Capparis Spinosaand Capsicum annuum. (set aside)
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Mi Rice
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ingredients
1.5 cup Washed and drained rice (more info about the rice variety in the description)
3 cloves of garlic
1 inch piece of ginger
1 tbsp butter
4 cardamom
4 cloves
10 black peppercorns
1/4 tsp turmeric powder
1 sprig of curry leaves
1 pandan leaf
1/4 cup chopped onion
2 cup chicken or vegetable stock
1/4 cup unsweetened coconut cream (or thick coconut milk)
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4 cups of pigfeet broth strained and degreased.
2 cups of chicken stock
2 1/2 cups of sweet sherry
1 T ground ginger
2 T McCormick seasoning
2 cups of carrots
1 large onion
3 T minced garlic
2 chopped jalopeno peppers
1/4 cup of lemon grass
2 teaspoons of fishstock
thyme
basil
anise
rosemary
2 cup of crumbled bacon
4 chicken thighs
4 guina hen thighs
1 whole rabbit
salt and pepper meat,add ingredientsi add remaining ingredeints bake for 40 minutes until fall off the bone tender.
Serve with mushrooms and rice!
----------gâteau opéra-- dessert----------------------
The world begins here,
at this worn wooden table,
its edges softened by years of hands
that set, cleared, and held.
Morning sunlight spills across plates,
coffee steam curling like old stories
we tell each other
between bites of bread and laughter.
Here, my mother folds love into dough,
my father seasons patience into stew,
grandmother hums the recipes of our past,
and unseen, ancestors linger in the scent of cumin and cardamom,
their whispers threading through the clatter of spoons.
Arguments dissolve in the hum of conversation,
joy rises with the scent of fresh coriander,
and tears, too, are gathered
between the bowls and shared silence.
This table teaches me:
life is breaking bread together,
listening when words fail,
holding space for each other,
and remembering
even in ordinary moments,
we are never alone.
She found the bookshop by accident. Or maybe it found her.
Tucked between a crumbling chapel and an old locksmith’s house, its door didn’t face the road. You had to know to look for it. You had to be quiet enough inside to hear the wind change.
Inside, it always smelled of cardamom and cedar, and the floor creaked just enough to feel alive. Books lined the walls like relics. Some hummed. Some slept.
Time didn’t quite work there.
Clocks slowed down.
Wounds stitched a little faster.
She came to read.
To forget.
To remember.
That’s where she met him—not with a grand entrance, but with two mugs of tea and a mismatched scarf. He didn’t ask why she was always reading the same page. He just sat across from her, elbows on the table, eyes kind.
Day by day, they learned each other in fragments.
Not with declarations, but with borrowed books, shared silences, glances that said:
I see the storm in you and I’m not afraid.
One evening, when the wind howled outside and the power flickered, he leaned in and whispered,
“Tell me something no one else knows.”
She thought for a long time. Then said,
“When I love, it’s like anchoring someone to the earth. I forget to leave any rope for myself.”
He nodded. Held her hand—not tight, not possessive—just steady. And said,
“Then let’s tie it to each other this time,
so neither of us floats away.”
They didn’t promise forever.
They promised presence.
A new page.
The sound of tea being poured at dusk.
The smell of cardamom when words run out.
Somewhere between the wind and paper, they found home.
to be curried away in green cardamom dreams
is to float in the zest of orange spicy creams.
to fight against urges of curcuma yellow lust,
is to steady the ship and do what we must.
to bathe in the warmth of ginger drop puddles
is to swim for your life in in savory cuddles.
to blend myth in the caves of surprise
is to gather the taste that thrives in your eyes.
to climb into the mist of coriander green hills
is to sharpen the senses with pepper corn pills.
to stoke the hungry fire of a garlic grinning mouth
is to furnish the vestibule with cajun black south
to find your way home on a wintery dark day
is to remember the cinnamon that lit your way
Put a little cardamom in it.
Spice it up!
Cloves are great for health.
Add that in too!
A pinch of cinnamon.
Wow, what a robust flavor!
Don’t forget Ginger!
Peel and feel the texture.
Drop it in!
Pitch black tea leaves.
It leaves you with a strong, but bitter sensation.
Hear those bubbles sing and dance while boiling,
Steam shoots up in the air out of the tea kettles’ spout,
like a rocket to the moon.
Yes, I can drink this to the moon and back.
A tasty concoction of flavor in this tiny little cup.
Simply just pleases your taste buds.
Stems from the country of India.
Spicy and yet so sweet.
Makes your day complete,
rather than incomplete.
Under the summer heat.
Or embracing the streaks of cold air,
while wrapped up and gulping,
then saying: “This beverage is just one of a kind”.
Take me back to Yathrib, where the evening stars are clear
In that green oasis, tall tales that we might hear.
Sit around a fire, they knew how to have fun
Jewish poets recited, when their day was done.
Take me back to Khaybar, green against black rock
Date palms frame the castles, goatherds tend a flock
Hard morn in the fields then high sun drove indoors
Time to weave a rug or pray that the rain pours.
Take me back to Yemen
When it was under Jewish rule
When a farmers' life was close to heaven
and the highlands green and cool.
We'd have a grand old time in Adiabene
If we could go back in time
Queen Helena, also Jewish, ate well then
Saffron, Cardamom, lemon and lime.
There once were these worlds, but no more
Others moved in, others made war
Not much you can do, except try to recall
How it lived and flourished, rose to fall..
What I’d like to give you is an ounce of my perfume,
what you’ll get is my permeating essence-filled scent
so you can discover who I really am.
Step in to my space,
study the aromachology of me,
become the nose to my inner "scentual" being.
A pungent trace of amber redolent with promise
is fragrant with what can be,
seducing you with a tangy sexiness,
inducing a deep-down-in-the-marrow reaction.
Step close, burrow into my soft vanilla neck,
breathe in the all of me.
Allow my red, red rose head notes to light a spark
to beckon you on to explore
every inside, outside inch of my skin.
Lean in, capture my cinnamon, cardamom heart notes
which reveal my truest nature.
Inhale my musky base notes,
then heed the primal-instinct-releasing call
to explore the jungle of my soul.
With cloying clarity,
discern the conundrum of sweet, savory me.
Written: July 18, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Tom Woody
Walking around the edge of a massive crater that seemed to beckon her with all sorts of bizarre things, Alice—now an adult but still not quite—felt a strong pull. She still had an insatiable need to travel, even if it had been a long time since she had done things such as dancing with white rabbits or drinking morning tea. She discovered a mirror encircled by shimmering stardust while searching the enigmatic Moonrock for indications of madness.
The mirror flickered and changed, as a beauteous glass serpent, opening doors to wormholes from another galaxy. She touched its surface with her fingertips, but they went right through it like it was liquid light. The aromas of cardamom oil and starlight were so powerful that they flooded her whole body. It was an amalgam that savored such as the core of time. Her body parts swayed and twirled bizarrely, as she was in an intense nightmare. The nebulae above laughed with joy as they opened up. Comets spun around a celestial chessboard, making a symphony of clicks that echoed through the universe.
Alice traveled through planets ruled by quantum queens. Their eyes were as deep as black holes, and their lips formed the language of math. A drink infused with the essence of auburn was handed to her, while another crafted melody defied convention and pushed boundaries. The atmosphere in the room was warm and inviting, reminiscent of an expanded Wonderland, now adorned with an enchanting layer of twinkling stars.
She met a dark matter cat along the way. Its smile had the power to break apart galaxies. "Tell me," Alice asked as she drank the delicious essence of entropy, "is this a memory or a wonder?"
The cat looked back with knowing eyes and said, "Both." We never truly depart; we only shift.
spacetime came apart
curiosity sewed string~
mirrors still call out
When your blue eyes
Looked at my brown eyes,
Like the sky came to kiss the earth
With honour during the morning dew on the snowdrops.
It makes me want to wish I were your perfume,
So you could inhale me every time you took a breath,
I'd be going deep into your heart and bones making you smile,
I'd be touching and clinging to your warm and tender skin, slather slowly, growing deeper and deeper,
I'd be prolonged, so even the next day you'd be able to feel me around you,
Lilies, vanilla and cardamom,
A little bit of whiskey and a little rum.
I envy death, I do,
I envy death who'll get to kiss your face
Beautiful than a summer's day
When the trees are dancing to a music
Privy, the breeze is just bluffing to cool you
And the sun is soaring like a brook during springtime.
I'll miss you forever,
But how lucky I am,
Oh how lucky!
Death will kiss me with the same lips she'll kiss you.
Oh how I love you,
But I still can't tell if I'm in love,
I love you like death loves human beings,
Oh how it yearns, and waits to kiss you when the time comes.
Only death's love is true,
Death never breaks promises,
She comes when she comes,
And she will come for sure.
She loves you even when you don't love her back.
Yes, it's true when you said
“Your smile is going to be the death of me”
With your lips grinned like thousands of ruby roses.
October Spice
Inspired October creates a recipe
For a sumptuous feast
A bouquet garni of paprika hued orange tupelo,
A fete of fragrant cinnamon shades in russet umber oaks,
Sprinkling tinges of savory gold in dancing ginger aspens
Then blending bits of sienna nutmeg tones to hickory,
Glazing scarlet cardamom frost on the sugar maple,
In a festival of allspiced sweet gum mixed delicacies
A banquet fest spread out in pungent cloves of beech offerings
Autumnal master stirs up a feast of bonne bouche in sassafras tones
With a smidge of saffron dusting on sable sycamores
Tidbits of chestnut fripperies - dainty delights wearing star anise harvests -
Sachet d’Epices of magenta dyed coriander colors burning bushes burgundy
In measures reflecting eternal delight - a twirling potpourri of praise.
9-27-21
Contest: October
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
Thank you Jan for the inspiration!