Food

Tacos in the Rain

TACOS IN THE RAIN

 

Más sabe el diablo por viejo que por diablo

And heaven knows this devil's too damn young

You shattered through my shell [then] left me here inside a hell

Of some unholy mole swamp hot as the sun

 

But maybe tacos in the rain will help to put the fire out,

Cause life's still full of lessons left to learn

Yeah, break out the champagne; it's time for tacos in the rain,

I'll toast to you, then watch the world around me burn.

 

From the start [the] love you gave was a salsa to my soul

[But I] didn't know that there were reapers in the mix

And now you're gone, but there's still desire and in your stead, you left a fire
That a barrel of tequila couldn't fix

 

Maybe tacos in the rain will help to put the fire out,

I’m not ready to return to dust and ash
Right now hope is all I got (save for some tacos and a shot).

I'll toast to us and wonder why it couldn’t last.

 

I gave to you my heart; next thing I knew I saw you carve

a molcajete that my tears have since stained and glazed.

To say I’m feeling blue would be an understated truth

Cause “fajita you” is the best I do on darker days

 

Well even tacos in the rain, they couldn't save me from this pain

How to love again is a lesson time will help me learn

Damn soggy tacos in the rain; still, there ain't no use to complain

Maybe I'll try your sister's tortas out instead

Author's Notes/Comments: 

1.9.19


Makes me think of a place or situation that amounts to the evil twin of “Big Rock Candy Mountain.

 

It’s about Heartburn or Heartbreak; you decide.

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Food [Nursery Rhyme]

Food! Food! Food!


Food is good,


Good for health,


Health is wealth!


 

I love tasty food,


It changes my mood!


Stale food is bad,


Makes me go mad!


 

Eat food everyday,

 

Keep diseases away!

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OLD OIL DRUM SEAT

I got lost in Macau.  I was walking along a main street looking for an old historic monument.  I must have made a wrong turn somewhere along the way.  I was following a map and turned down a small street.  Next thing I know, I going through a very narrow alley.  I was not longer sure where I was it.  The street signs were in Chinese and Portuguese.  I could at least read the Portuguese names since they use the same alphabet.

 

I was hungry and I couldn't find my way.  The streets and alleys were packed with people milling about their daily lives.  I could tell right away that I was not in a touristy area.  I kept referring to my map but I couldn't find a match.  I noticed that I was probably going in circles.

 

A lot of the locals seemed amused by my plight.  I seemed to notice a few people pointing at me and maybe a few laughs at my expense.  I was lucky enough to find a kind soul who could speak fluent English.  He took mercy on me.  We got into a conversation.  I found out that I was really only a couple blocks from the destination that I was seeking.  He was impressed that I was an American traveling alone.

 

When I mentioned being hungry, he took me to a little hole in the wall place.  The writing was all in Cantonese.  (He informed me of that.)  They did not have any tables inside but you could eat outside at their sidewalk cafe.  The table consisted of a plywood board sitting on top of two carpenter horses.  The seat was an old oil drum. 

 

With his help I was able to order a a pork chop bun and a soup.  The woman at the counter did not speak any English.  The cost ended up being less than the equivalent of 2 American dollars.  The soup was a chicken soup with various vegetables--several of which I did not recognize.  The soup had a really spicy flavor to it.  I sat on the oil drum slurping away at the soup.  The pork was really delicious.   I got a lot of quizzical looks from locals walking by.  I didn't really care.  It was a great meal and it reaffirned my faith in humanity.  Being lost in a strange country, I was still able to find someone willing to help me out.

 

 

 

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The Off Grid Life

the off-grid life.

untied from the shackles of strife,

2017, the modern existence,

getting on the property ladder, how does anyone have a chance?
20, 25 or 30, forced to work to pay every bill,

going to work all hours, struggling to find a way, a life against our will,

needing the money from any form of work, mostly unprogressive, unhappy 
life passing by, frustrating, anger, decreasing self-worth, causing individuals to be snappy

unfulfilled, potentials are not met, working a job all day, unable to progress,

money is the key factor, for bills to be met, let me digress.

often they still aren't causing pain and suffering, stress and depression,

homelessness is rife through the country, a feeling of regression,

a feeling of being stuck, how to retrain and improve your careers?
speak to friends or family and the same conversation, doubts, and fears
if only another option was available,

one that was accepted and not just for the vulnerable,

the homeless, the people with nothing,

but how is this existence different? it is truly crushing,

once you can see that your life is consumed with working for money,

the soul has passed, your energy too, it can get so hard it's not even funny,

but who understands? in the face of consumerism, higher purchase, loans, and debt,

who is living a life, truly satisfied, and their dreams are met?

Not all people living off-grid are rich in cash!
but they aim for other needs; security in food & energy, it's worth a bash,


 

a growing transition for many people too,

it's not just for the hippies, the spiritual, it's for people like me and you,

think about it for a moment or two...

who would you be without your car, house and your possessions?
is that person you portray the real you? or do you blend in so people don't ask questions?
are you honest with your family and friends?

or do you sit behind a desk wishing it would end?
there is a wealth of knowledge of old traditions,

from a time when they lived without these conditions,

the conditions of social media, advertising, marketing ads or vlogs

when screen time didn't consume every waking hour, and children were fascinated with tadpoles transforming into frogs.

hours spent outside, climbing trees, playing at the park,

not allowed home unless it was tea time or had gotten dark.

 

a shift is happening, ecotherapy, wild schooling, bushcraft, and hikes,

forest schooling, homeschooling, people walking and out on their bikes,

scientists are noticing the effects on children's behaviors, reduced health issues,

ADHD,  also a boost in self-awareness, positivity, confidence and mental health issues

is it easier to sit a child down to hours in front of the tv, or ipad?

than it is to spend a few hours playing down the park with dad?

or baking a cake with mum, the importance of these skills are being misplaced,

in this consumerism world, with employees a number, in a life so fast-paced.

 

Off-grid living, the communities hidden away,

all they want is a parcel of land to look after their needs, but hey,

that's not possible, 'cause where will the local council get their tax,

with the community, living off the land, growing food and chopping wood with an axe,

the need and usage of government-owned services would become minute,

living simply and within your skills of the land, renewables used, an abundance of fruit,

food preserved in many forms, jams and chutneys, frozen meat,

enough food to last year-round to survive through winter, or in the heat,

the food produced off the land, tending the garden, and grown for nutrition,

the most important for life and health also said to aid in remission.

off grid homesteaders, don't need to take the flack,

with health as the focus, working outdoors to provide, lowering the need for prozac,
comments from shallow minded people need not be said,

the power of community, working together, I want to spread,

to include children in the transition, of conserving nature and our wildlife,

 

the tranquil setting amongst the seasons, watching the stars, that's my type of nightlife.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is my first time sharing my poetry, (after a few friends encouraged me that I should) please be kind and send your thoughts.

Also all words are opinions of myself in the modern world that we live in. 

This is not meant to cause offense, harm, upset to anyone, and if it does please understand that is not my intention.

 

Many thanks,

Parsimonious

Folder: 
Personal

"So hot headed,

but heavy is the hand

that is kept from raising.

Which,

 

being how soft

the surface below 

it would fall upon,

it is al and well

 

no hand was raised,

indeed,

but there is no praise 

for such common sense.

 

Uncommon men

and situations

make for comics 

and comical accusations,

 

life's a joke

so sometimes I laugh at it,

but this time around

I keep frowning.

 

So here it is,

laid on the table

the meal made,

with much forethought.

 

And in the end,

all it causes is heat,

feet stomping,

no use for a cooler,

 

all around fire is sprayed

and it keeps trying

to catch, 

skin not lit.

 

Whatever the reason,

be it power or to tower above,

stepping in increases rage,

decreases range.

 

Within striking distance,

add more fuel to the fire

burning deep inside,

taught to never lay a finger

 

on the fairer sex,

but the moment tests all control,

reveal, resist,

total consequence in the rearview.

 

SLew of words,

which hold meaning

spoken out of love or anger,

babble dipping into ears

 

is all tuned out;

been inside my head for hours

already.

So you go,

 

but not before raising your own hand,

no pain felt with the blow,

no weight to it.

But damned if the point isn't realized,

 

asked to leave 

only to come once I'm gone,

leaving my abode vandalized.

How dissapointing.

 

An anger so roasting

kept cool with a conversation

with a friend, 

longboarder, car hoarder,

 

keeps one in check

before diving into a bitter 

back-and-forth.

The bitter look

 

thrown with an intense glare

with one more pass,

feeling sick to the stomach,

but if one wants,

 

just ask.

I can be more specific.

Penurious of kindness,

parsimonious of respect."

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Parsimonious, not to insult anyone's intelligence, is to be stingy; to be witholding (usually of money). Something that you have, but decide not to give, or spend, or show. Being parsimonious is a common reaction to many a great painful events in our lives. But maybe it shouldn't be. For once.

Palate

Folder: 
Simple Thoughts

"So fleeting,

the feelings that need to be written,

so we try,

lest we forget,

 

because we can end the story

right here.

 

 

 

But the writer didn't quit,

there's more than just words

to be conveyed,

painted.

 

So coast,

let the feelings become a little older,

bolder, embolden the taste

and let your mind

 

slip into space

where much will be needed,

actual space,

for too much had happened today,

 

looking for a place to be.

Matter of fact,

every little thing

had it's own story,

 

poetry to be painted for,

but the encompassing tone

is the gratuity of it all,

the gravity of thanks,

 

given time and again,

and how that can make

heartfelt words

turn empty.

 

A day

full of so many happenings

can dilute

the flavor of each herb;

 

the finite details 

of a singular moment

crowded by 

too many spices.

 

The palate becomes overwhelmed,

tastes come all sides, 

pungent, 

assaulted with bitter flavors,

 

or salty experiences. 

Even the savory, slow

succumbing to sweet memories

can lead to sour smiles.

 

Too strong a concentration

on the subject of flavor,

and you lose the whole picture,

the entire day.

 

Exertion, 

parading down the street,

or a humble pawn in the presence

of greatness,

 

balance is best

to appreciate the meal, if you will.

To appreciate every moment,

and the entire day they build."

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A day full of so many flavors can distract your appreciation for the entire day itself.

Tasting the Skyline

Folder: 
Just a thought!

Wolfing down some Skyline chili.. saucy, meaty, bold...

A taste of allspice hid within, is how the story goes'

Picking your selected style of meat and beans and cheddar,

Having mine with spagetti noodles, only made it better'

Cincinnati had it's special cuisine only tasted there...

The Brats or Metts on a toasted bun, flavor beyond compare.

Every city makes a stand, having something the very best...

I want to visit every skyline, and savor all the rest'



Author's Notes/Comments: 

Just thinking of tastes under different skylines' ....wrote this when I was hungryTongue Out

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Don't Eat Welsh Rarebit!

I know what you want to order for dinner, Welsh Rarebit.

But if you order it again, I swear that I'll have a fit.

You sleep in the buff and the Welsh Rarebit makes you walk in your sleep.

As you walk through the neighborhood butt naked, the men always peep.

When you last ate Welsh Rarebit, you got your gun in your sleep and blew off two of my toes.

I cried like a baby as I called 911 because the Emergency Room was where I had to go.

I have a short fuse and if I blow my top in public, you won't like it.

But that's exactly what is going to happen if you order Welsh Rarebit!

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a fictional poem.

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Outsmarted Again.

Banana sanwich

bread and jam

piece of cake 

slice of ham

Well done steak

Turn around to get a plate

from a rack

Gone!

Two little innocent faces

with wagging tails

stirring back.




Peter Dome. copyright.2013. Dec.

 

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