She took a slice of a rice paper
Hold it delicately ... careful not to break it
Expertly placed it on a plate..
Mixed the fresh salad, some noodles and shrimps
Nervously rolled it one by one, though...
All eyes are on her.. All ears are on her
She and her famous Rice paper ...the subject of attention..
... the rolls she promoted..
A traditional cuisine, a local pride
She dipped the rolls in some kind of fish sauce
Shyly she offered the delicacies to us..
We .. the so called “International people” were amused
this tantalizing Vietnamese cuisine..
Specially made in Vietnam.. only in Vietnam..
Rice paper rolls.. repeat the demonstration
Wet it with water..
Choose your favourite fillings... roll it and roll it..
Its done.. Its ready.. its super unique...
Fish sauce.. fish oil and dip one... dip another
one by one.. so sensational taste..
Looking so plain never you doubt the taste
Superdelicious!!
Yummy the Vietnamese Rice paper..
Only in Vietnam..
"Born in a brothel, raised in a tavern, rode in a coffin, died in the streets" - Warkos Diméaus (Nhlanhla Moment)
Tellaby Tellaby neater than me
Tellaby telling me her guy I cannot be
She is a girl that all desire
She kindles the day like fire
Tellaby Tellaby she be a queen
Telling me I am not fit and ill-willed
I sought to hold her like the air circles in the wind
I need her like wool and sheep are twins
Tellaby, Tellaby I wish guys could see
This unsurmountable beauty that she shows me
Tellaby tells me I can only wish,
To have her as mine is like sands that have fish.
Not a thing but a telling wish
Tellaby, she has a heart so rich.
Watch out, the stove is hot.
White iron teeth that will bite your tongue,
split chapped lips,
then eat salt and vinegar crisps.
Sharp streaks of nerves,
grinning with missing incisors
drip in lines down your chin
of green and brown copper.
If I had a fish pond
to throw these dimes into,
I would never have to know
where they came from,
why they didn't fall out of
my coat with the turned up collar.
Unwashed wool wraps and rots
round warped shoulders,
gnarling strained fingers
between ball and socket joints.
Fussy tea cakes and strands of hair
relinquished to the wind
hobble up and down outdoor train stations,
old-fashioned floral prints swept aside,
a puppet show of sickly chicken legs
pocked, potholed and pickpocketed.
Lost in the war, between couch cushions,
baked into blackberry crumble
in go egg whites, out come memories
of snow that tightroped power lines,
good dogs that stayed,
coauthors of the oxford english dictionary.
Badly rolled cigarette smoke in the streets
writes gregorian poetry for darned socks
snagged on shoddy repair jobs,
splintered wooden bones.
Pour yourself a stiffer drink,
it’s going to be a gangrenous winter.
dazzling rays of moon light beam through the stained glass window
hiding behind the curtain, like a child playing hide and seek
when the crimson red curtains were suddenly torn open
they revealed a woman lying upon a soft bed
crouching beside her almost lifeless body
was a demon
waiting for her to awake
her golden ringlets fell
her head drooped
her face was pretty - angelic
velvet soft white robes draped over her body
gracefully still
imagine the eyes of this delicate angel
if anyone were to look into them
they would be lured in
like a fisherman lures in his fish
I am a bundle of scars
Ambidextrous
There are too many holes
In my arms
The veins are hiding
Warm fingers coax them
Come back to me
The dog returning to its vomit
Hands well calloused
Smelling of diesel and grease
All fun no business
Makes me suicidal
I swore I would never become my father
But the universe finds that funny
If you would come to me
Tell me its alright
I would pass through
The blood-brain barrier
And warm your skin like sunrise
I am a son among the damned
My body feels brittle and ancient
My bones like old stone ruins
Covered in thick green moss
I prize your lies
Kept sealed in jars
Their dim glowing
Keeps me awake
Show me your claws
Show me your fangs
Scrape them on my skull
Play a song on my brain
Impulse control
Dissolved on a spoon
Momentary salvation
And eternal doom
Pincoushin
Nobody else can hurt me
Quite like myself
I've built a tolerance
To everything but you
They'll find my corpse
Tangled in the reeds
Fish eating pieces of me
And taking some home to the family
I am glorified fertilizer
A stacked up dung hill
I think I am something
In my monkey suit and tie
I cannot wait to die
And be at your side
My father once told me the story.of The Scorpion and the frog,
Have you heard it? Robert Blake told to me a couple.of times too while I watched
Baretta.?
You know.ole "don't do the crime if you can't do the time"Baretta.But
I digress.That was a long time and one murder ago.
A tale of woe of being true to one's nature.
A scorpion stood on the river bank seeking to cross for the family reunion.
Comes a frog swimming along.trying to get to his nephew's wedding.
So. Brer scorpion sticks up a thumb
"Going my way" ? He says.
Sure said the frog but jump on that log .you might float over by sundown.
"If you let me ride over on your back,I can get there in time for the feast"
No way Jose,"you will sting me to death if I let you climb on"
said the frog.
The scorpion insisted even offering bribes until the frog recanted.
The frog pushed of with his cargo aboard.looking back with one eye and the bank
with the other not really trusting his long tailed brother then BANG,BANG
went the scorpion's tail.Frog was done mid river
sinking slowly he began to shiver.
"But you will die too he said to the frog."
"Believe me I know" said the venomous bug
"Then why asked the frog"?
"Fish gotta swim. Birds gotta fly"
"The moment you let me on We were destined to die "
"Nature called. That was all. Nothing personal friend"
"I will see you on the other side and thanks for the ride"
The eye rolls speak louder than the whispers do.
But they echo either way,
They sliver and slide there way into my ears
and, somehow manage to shoot up my spine,
I feel the words inside of me.
I'm trying extremely hard to keep telling myself
that all they are, are just some vowels and some
consonants;
But they can't be because vowels and consonants
never hurt me before, they've never felt this sharp.
They never left with me wounds.
And I know the letters you're stitching together
that form things like: Her eyes are too close together and,
her chest is too small and, her smile is crooked ,
and she's not nearly as pretty as you, don't worry.
But if you'd give me a second to come over there
and tell you the truth, you'd know that I agree with you,
but if you gave me another second you'd also know that, I
never said I was beautiful.
So the echos hurt, they swim inside of me,
and rub against me coarse, like the scales of a fish.
I just don't understand why they hurt so bad since,
I swear I agree with you.
You were different
As you repeatedly pointed out
You weren't quite like the others
You possessed a quietness which only titillated me further
We had moments which will lie etched in memory forever
We were different
Together
But then, like twigs under the feet of a giant
You broke me.
You may be the one I thought I desired
You may be the one I thought I required
But you are not
Nor are you the only one for me
There are plenty of fish in the sea
Should I choose to go fishing.
For now, the rods must stay in the barn;
I have bigger fish to fry.
Like changing the world, for instance
Which to you is a preposterous and fanatical notion
To me, is another thing to tick off my to do list
I am different
Knocking me down did not serve any purpose but to strengthen my resolve
I rose slowly, like a flower amongst weeds of pain
I came through, bigger, better, scarred but stronger
Oh look what you've done
I wish you no harm
But I'm not exactly rooting for team ** anymore
You're on your own there
And rest assured, give me a few more years,
And I'll show you just what you are missing.
In that moment, poetic justice will truly be served.
Back beyond the pines lay a stream.
Cold blue water swirling and tumbling all over itself
where small fish darted about
scrounging for particles of food to sustain their life aquatic,
beavers, up a little ways on the hydro-vein, had built a dam,
he knew because he found it once,
watched furry little heads sink beneath the surface
to escape this furless beast that had invaded their territory.
There was also a small canoe,
tethered to a tree on his side of the bank.
He never knew from where it came or when it had gotten there.
It simply seemed to have showed up one day and squatted,
bobbing up and down gently on windy days,
looking very old and crusted over from the first time he had seen it.
It having spent its entire life just to end up in small stream
that led nowhere in little patch of forest separating two different subdivisions,
where hundreds of people who would never meet
lived in such closeness
behind the walls of their respective forts.
Stick a gun to my head
Cover me in gas
Bind my hands
And strike the match
We can share the last laugh
Together
Nothings better
Than nothing to lose
Inscribe it across my tomb
I'm too numb to care
Too dumb to stare into your eyes
Your enemy is mine
And I'm just fine
With dining alone
Just fine with not shining at all
I build the bridge to burn it down
Down so far it erects again
Watch me swim as slow as i can
Inhale the water and rise to land
I'm not the man I think I am
Not the man you think I am
I am merely a middle man
A fish on land
Throw back what you catch
If you can
Soaking wet
With burning hands
