Long Cook Poems
Long Cook Poems. Below are the most popular long Cook by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cook poems by poem length and keyword.
I can smell a sweet aroma coming from the kitchen; the fresh ripe smell of cocoa beans stirring in the pot and Italian caffe latte with, vanilla cream running on the top, the flavors of the earth all combined together, with spices romance and heavenly flavor.
The ladies dressed in fine kitchen robes, whipped up butter, shortening and oil to make the crispy croissant, I can see them smiling and shaking their shoulders while they gather ingredients to make bagel, donuts and muffing. The smell breaks through the ceiling and pervades the atmosphere and the kitchen lands in the middle of the street.
They brought out a tray of hot croissant and place it on the counter; French bread rolls, spring rolls and authentic Italian sfogliatelle lined out on the table, I did not know which one to choose from, the presentation was appealing and the smell stirred my appetite and cause the buzzing bees to take its flight.
I went outdoor and walked towards sea and saw the Japan's ladies dancing on the shore, they had their cook book in their hands, dressed in fine caps and white aprons. The chef stood bravely on the other side with their butcher knife set, looking at chunks of beef and big fish lined out on the table; they are getting ready to start the operation.
The scent of salt air tickles my nose and I watched the waves beating on the shore and the motorboats speeding from the depth of the sea carrying an important message for you and me.
The earth is small when you look from above and the plates that hold it together are shifting but gravity is keeping me firm. I am running a marathon around the sky to absorb the entire flavor before I bid you goodbye.
The flavors are resting on my shoulders and earth is becoming stronger, this aroma won’t let me go and it will be with me where ever I go. I will hoist it on a pole when I complete the show and it will show you which way to go. Come and embrace my flavor.
Peter Pan is off to Never-Never-land again
He has found his elusive shadow, it is on him.
Wendy is coming along with brothers Michael and John
They are traveling across the sky, Tinkerbell’s light is on
Nana their St. Bernard is horrified as they leave the nursery.
She is unfortunately tied up in the yard, as they fly past joyfully.
“You can fly, you can fly, you can fly, you can fly!” Song of warning….
“There it is, Wendy, second star to the right straight on til morning.”
Tinkerbell is Peter ‘s protective faerie companion of course.
She is as subtle as an amberjack lying across a goat-like horse
She would give up her life for Peter Pan, she revers him absolutely.
She tricks the Indians into shooting Wendy bird, jealous of her beauty.
Neverland is wonderful at first, with all kinds of unique levels of joy.
Captain Hook and his pirate crew, “a free tattoo for every boy”
Yo ho! Yo Ho! You Ho! Dancing and singing for everyone!
Join up with Captain Hook and his crew for barrels of fun!
Peter saves Darling children and orphaned Lost Boys in the best way,
The infamous crocodile with the tick tocking clock chases Cook away.
Peter heads back to Never-Never-land leaving us with a feeling
He will be back and often, possibly as a shadow on our ceiling.
Tito David Rodriguez recruited me to Filipino American Multimedia Entertainment (FAME). He was my choir mate as a base at St. Andrew Catholic Church, Daly City. He and Tito Willie Totanes are my best supporters. When you call a person “late” it means the person passed away. The late director Jesse Pangilinan and Mr. Prospero Luna, a comedian actor and assistant of FAME. He was a very good friend of my late father Mayor Leonardo G. Mendoza who passed away, former mayor of San Pascual Batangas, Philippines. My loving mother is Ms. Dorothy Ann Ramirez to where I am staying right now by the Daly City Bart station, she can cook a good Filipino food. I was an Uprising Star at FAME when all of a sudden a tragic car accident happened on October 11, 1999 with my late best friend Ms. Adiel Rallos and she passed away, my left arm was crused to 41 pieces due to her car seat and was left to coma for or 6 weeks or a month and two weeks. I was in 3 hospitals Stanford ICU, Seton Med but the prognosis at Seton was not good so I was brought to and St. Mary’s, SF where I had Speech Therapy (ST) Occupational Therapy (OT) and Physical Therapy (PT). The late director Mr. Jesse Pangilinan also passed away so the FAME disbanded. I previously met Ms. Regine Velasquez with her songwriter Mr. Ogie Alcasid on early 2000. I thought that God took away my singing career and replaced it with being a part of Heart and Soul’s True Hope at North County, Daly City with Mr. John Zamora as my Case/Social Worker and Mr. Chito Crisostomo M. D. as my Psychiatrist and with writing poetry- it’s therapeutic you know whatever feeling you have, all you need are a pen and a piece of paper and start writing how you feel. I am with “Poetrysoup.com” where I paid $150 for a lifetime member years ago because it increased as years passed by. I was able to convey or deliver the messages to the people. I started with writing a couplet or a 2 lines poem, a Haiku or a 3 lines poem or a Quatrain or a 4 lines poem. When I think I’m ready to write longer words I jumped to learning Sonnet or a 14 lines poem.
beauty is not a quality to her
she has a touch of commonality
comely borders
yet never intrudes
her face radiates ease
comfort in this world
shorn of life's common asunder
a knowing within
life is where it should be
her eyes grasp you into a solace
where dawn is a promise
placid waves lap the meadow
everything within the universe is at rest
the sunset is a glory in the alleviation
and as she passes a plate of warm
chocolate cookies fresh from the oven
it is not in these treats i revel in gratitude
the touching of her hand
as the plate is passed
the simper she wears so well
the heavens beckon in her eyes
where i see the soul she is
beauty is a Johnny Quid wake-up call
the siren's delusion
no beauty is not a quality to her
she calls to mind the commonality
those angels who must fill
the corners of heaven
with their common voices
Plato believed love was a mental illness
possibly his problem was a fixation on beauty
and why the School of Athens
had but one woman
many of the great names in philosophy
were never married
i believe it is
because they could not conceive
someone without an enchanting beauty
holding a tray of chocolate cookies
be equal and worthy of their love
no doubt many a student
in a group discussion did quip
in lowered breath about Hypatia
but can she cook and clean
late at night as i finish my nightly prayer
i sometimes wonder if the School of Athens
counted among its' worthy students
sitting at tables exchanging ideas
how we could improve life on Earth
what grand philosophy could free
this fate of manunkind
might have come from
those who cooked and cleaned
OKC 3/30
Wake up the crack of dawn,
Mow the lawn,
Get the mail,
Come inside and be carefree,
Bask in the serenity of entropy,
Wake up the kids to clean their rooms,
Wash the car and walk the dog,
Lay out all day the back yard sod,
Get in the car and be carefree,
Bask in the serenty of entropy,
Check the clock and plant the shrubs,
Paint the house and wash the tub,
Vacuum the bathroom and seep the halls,
Then get in the shower and be carefree,
Bask in the serenity of entropy,
Put on your clothes and go to work,
Run to the office, you're 10 minutes late,
Attribute your tardiness to traffic or fate,
Then sit down at your desk and be carefree,
Bask in the serenity of entropy,
Go home and cook dinner,
Then eat and around ten,
Go upstairs, collapse, and ward off his pass,
The man who approaches with hair on his back,
Then ask yourself why did it have to be me?
That basks in the serenity of entropy?
First love
It was a day in May
I was a cook at a hotel, my first
job after graduation
and the first, in our family
with proper training
I even got a certificate, it
had my name in big letters
Then, I was full of myself
I met Greta, who was the one
cleaning pans and plates
We fell in love
Never did I know that love
could be so sweet
It was like nature was on our side
flower-scented and trees
strew green leaves on our path
A summer has an ending
I had gone away to see my mother
who lived in another town
She was not at the railway station
to meet and autumnal light
The trees faded, shedding brown leaves
A love story was over
heartbroken, I joined the Navy
Now that I'm old, she is the one
I remember
Glowing bright ball of light
More like golf ball in the night
Full moon inspires teal tide
And good witch's broom ride
I like the good witch who
Gives to her neighbors
Who loves chocolate kids
Fruity frogs any flavor
She's a violet volunteer
At the public library
She has a yellow skill
A gift at will to teach
But her cooking class
Is always full of warlocks
It fills up fuchsia fast
They're hippies with dreadlocks
It's a nice caramel crowd
Especially on Halloween
You're not allowed to shout
And certainly not to scream
I tried a dish of her's
It looked kind of yum
Ingredients were stirred
Sticking to my tongue
The witch winked her eye
Said this is what you try
To cook for your friend
Woman or man to turn into husband or wife!
I romance you, but you romance the sparkling stone
I love you with my heart, but your heart is in the phone
I talk to you lovingly, you talk to our little pet Tommy
I ask you to cook for me, you turn to call your mommy
I question, what ever happened to our undying love?
You look fixedly at me, and wonder why I’m asking now?
Roses were red, violets were blue when we used to date
Now, rubies are red, sapphires are blue as I curse my fate
Marriage, before it, I had my liberty and was independent
Since you entered my life, my neck has a collar with a pendant
You never cease talking to your friends, and your mother
Over phone, when I make an urgent call you don’t bother
I know you love me, but it is for your own self-interest
Which actually means you love what is good for your rest
I know you love me but you know it is, also, for your own good
Like the goose that laid the golden eggs, I’d worry about your mood
You wish to be one of high society and take part in kitty party
To be at home and manage the house instead of being nasty
Not worrying about cooking, children, and their school
From work I return, to do your chores, again to be a fool
mbfarookh
The pseudo-science
Cooking is not rocket science but would be cook has to
learn the basic after this he must discover why some
food doesn’t go well mixed with the wrong ingredients
The rudimentary is salt, pepper and butter and then
spices depending on the dish.
The food on the plate should look appetising but not
over-decorated, a cook should not aspire to be an artist
for that, he should go to an art school and paint Pretty pictures.
To put a bit of full-fat cream in some gravies
Is ok, but the dish should not swim in grease.
Always serve fresh salad and go easy on the potatoes.
My vacuum is a robot
My tumble dryer, true
They're programmed to assist
My world
And keep it ordered too
I feed my dishy-washer
My clothes go in a box
It's where the magic happens
Yet
It always eats my socks
My telly can now do things
I cannot understand
With mini robot partner here
Clamped tightly
In my hand
The toast it pops. The microwave,
It sings me out it's tune.
My loft has hidden strangers
Feeding me electricity
At noon
I guess I won't be lonely
As these friends around me toil
They clean & cook & entertain,
Refrigerate
And boil
And yet, my world feels empty
Despite this crowded space
No robot yet can substitute
For love
Or person place
We're built to be organic
So it kinda makes some sense
I like the metal critters
But
My spirit's more intense
I leave the shrouded palace
For a walk among the trees
I feel my truest presence here,
My face
Against the breeze
I stroll beside the water
So that deep from my insides
The birdsong levitates
My soul
Where humanity resides
And just as sunshine radiates
To warm my fleshy skin
The love that makes
My heartbeat
Restores me from within
Artwork Credit: @mattdixonart "Longing"
(paid)