Food Poems
Abhangs (A Short Collection)
by Sant Tukaram
1
I was sleeping when Namdeo and Vitthal Stepped into my dream.
'Your job is to make poems. Stop wasting time,' Namdeo said.
Vitthal gave me the measure and gently aroused me from a dream inside a dream.
Namdeo vowed to write one billion poems.
'Tuka, all the unwritten ones are your responsibility.'
2
To repeat Your name is to string pearls together.
The pleasure in your manifested form is always new.
......
Ch 03 On The Excellence Of Contentment Story 28
by Saadi Shirazi
It is related that an athlete had been reduced to the greatest distress by adverse fortune. His throat being capacious and his hands unable to fill it, he complained to his father and asked him for permission to travel as he hoped to be hoped to be able to gain a livelihood by the strength of his arm.
Excellence and skill are lost unless exhibited.
Lignum aloes is placed on fire and musk rubbed.
The father replied: ‘My son, get rid of this vain idea and place the feet of contentment under the skirt of safety because great men have said that happiness does not consist in exertion and that the remedy against want is in the moderation of desires.
No one can grasp the skirt of luck by force.
It is useless to put vasmah on a bald man’s brow.
If thou hast two hundred accomplishments for each hair of thy head
......
September On Jessore Road
by Allen Ginsberg
Millions of babies watching the skies
Bellies swollen, with big round eyes
On Jessore Road--long bamboo huts
Noplace to shit but sand channel ruts
Millions of fathers in rain
Millions of mothers in pain
Millions of brothers in woe
Millions of sisters nowhere to go
......
The Alarm
by Thomas Hardy
In Memory of one of the Writer's Family who was a Volunteer during the War
with Napoleon
In a ferny byway
Near the great South-Wessex Highway,
A homestead raised its breakfast-smoke aloft;
The dew-damps still lay steamless, for the sun had made no sky-way,
And twilight cloaked the croft.
'Twas hard to realize on
......
The Baby's Vengeance
by William Schwenck Gilbert
Weary at heart and extremely ill
Was PALEY VOLLAIRE of Bromptonville,
In a dirty lodging, with fever down,
Close to the Polygon, Somers Town.
PALEY VOLLAIRE was an only son
(For why? His mother had had but one),
And PALEY inherited gold and grounds
Worth several hundred thousand pounds.
......
viand
by Rikske Kessner
She set the viand before me,
not the rice — the rice was the silence —
but the dish that carried mother’s laughter
and the salt of every story she never told.
Bring me the viand,
the one seasoned with memory,
the one that turns a blessing
into something the tongue understands.
......
savoury feast
by Rikske Kessner
"savoury feast"
( an epulaeryu )
A ladle lifts the broth’s
amber swirl as though some
......
Pasta (aft. WCW)
by Lee-Ann Azzopardi
Jo, I'm sorry
But I ate all the pasta
In the fridge
I was hungry and craving it
Yes, I heated it up
And lunched the pasta
With joy
The Sole Witness
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Aiken Drum lived a very long time ago, in days of sweetest nostalgia,
And his parents told amazing stories; when rose danced with dahlia!
Aiken was captivated by the myths and the legends, waking fancies,
Notably the tale of the man in the moon; like pearls of night's ease!
In each telling, he feigned to be, the celebrated "man in the moon,"
As imagination rises from impetus, and hearing mind's whimsy tune.
Aiken Drum enjoyed fruits of friendship, and the ways summer flies;
......
Steam and Seasoning
by Sapper Morton
Tell me how to make this life delicious—
How to savor each moment with my whole being,
Every flavor an invitation,
Every note a whisper that tickles my taste buds,
Scintillating my senses in ways only you can.
An aromatic journey to reawaken my soul,
So that every bite feels like the first time—
Heat, oil, and sizzle—
The tender flesh meeting the heat of the pan,
And with it, the memory of something ancient,
......
