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"portobello" poems
My sister dreams of flying tortoises, cockatoos and parrots flapping in a perfect randomness. She watches from the porch of her cabin on the lake, strangely grown into a manor, and recalls the promise of someone soon returning from a time on the water. The tortoises make her think of portobello mushroom caps, frayed and black against the stainless blue. She wonders what this means, this tumbling opulence, this message in the night that my sister dreams.
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Jul 31, 2012
Jul 31, 2012 at 2:16 PM UTC
Message
A warm glow radiates through the bones that are usually filled with aches and groans as I pass my place of birth. The street screams my name by day and whispers it softly when light has gone away smell the air, smell the warmth rising from the earth. The street entertainers of Portobello road the cool saxophone, the sweet notes blown the sound of a thousand footsteps. The jugglers, magicians and the market stands balancing, conjuring and selling their brands the warm breeze scatter their scent. Watch out for vagabonds and confidence tricks souvenir shops serving countless tourists the sound of a thousand tills ringing. Eat in any language, speak in any tongue dream of hustle and bustle and days long gone still you can hear the street singing. From Pembridge Road to Westbourne Grove these streets tell me that I am home they call me, repel me, thrill and destroy me. This land that did bear me keeps willing me back to walk it's streets and follow it's tracks this land is the place I must be... If I die, think only this of me, through every pane of glass, behind every windowsill there will always be a place called Notting Hill.
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Aug 22, 2011
Aug 22, 2011 at 9:24 AM UTC
Breathe
we amble down, the hill, to the waterside markets. i find it so quaint, that our town has a green beside it's river, running. grass manicured and lush, presently filled with little town of tents, and open marquee stalls that sell, all manner of things, plate sized portobello mushrooms, olive tappenade, great bunches of happy faced flowers, cupcakes of scrumptious, more and more-ish flavours. home made cordials. jewellery, and cushions and carved wooden bread boxes. all spread out for us to see. ant and owls made from old silver spoons..... bonsia trees, fresh herbs, jamon and piccalilli, tropical fruits in smoothies, icecreams and salads and over, under the age old morton bay fig face painters, wooden geegaws and thingymagigs painted in bright carnival colours....... what a way, wonderful and sublime, to while away, a lazy sunday morning.. we amble back up the hill with bags of edible treasures an silver owl named boo.... a child tiger hybrid and a spinning clown....
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May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 8:49 PM UTC
under the morton bay fig.
He looked down at his swollen feet His ***** bedding, his rocky pillows His out door rest room While the rich ate Portobello mushrooms Simmer in brown gravy. They pulled up alongside his box fence   The tinted window rolled down a hand Reaches out “keep the change they mumble” The taste of a poor man‘s grave Is a fair exchange
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Dec 24, 2012
Dec 24, 2012 at 6:10 PM UTC
Poor's Man Gravy
You weren't the poetic one, but I just read Kaddish and thought of you;            of 1998 beach photo, Sussex somewhere - as I remember you, perhaps a bit younger;            of sweet peroxide blonde, hiding brunette. I was naive to the dye 'til I saw 'the Hepburn shot' - that 1950 something print, you in Rembrandt light,            or the black beehive wig in family portrait— 1970ish— dicky bows and cocktail dresses - Dad, aged seven, in a shirt and trousers;            of youthful snapshots: Portobello Beach, Edinburgh (4), with parents in Kent (8), your gang of girls some snowy place (14), painting the house with Raymond in Croydon (20);            of latter digital images, 2012, more gaunt and wrinkled, but ever-beautiful - seemingly ageless, as you wished;            of care and trust and overdone vegetables, thin gravy, brussel sprout production lines - beautiful, mundane memories at Cowfold breakfast bar or Langley Green kitchen tops;            of seaside trips to Shoreham, Portsmouth, Brighton, dogs homes and holding my hand past the loud ones;            of picking roses from the garden for 'perfume' - sticky hands, wet floors and beautiful smells;            of early morning rude awakenings, met only with cheer and offers of tea and toast - I still have your butter tray (hospitable even in death);            of my brother's wedding, taking time to jive and seem alive whilst everyone else was dying inside, despite the fact that it was you, and you only, who should care the most (and thus, if you didn't, why should we have);            and of that very temperament, infamous tempers never shown—at least to us—just pure, kind acceptance and forgiveness.            You weren't the poetic one.            You were; the ninth child of a ****** and his wife                               the girl with the Scottish accent                               the wife of an engineer from Mitcham                               the mother of three, the loser of one                               the stern face of discipline                               the BT telephone operator, the masseuse                               the grandmother of three boys                               the ageless face of beauty                               the one I remember best            You told me you couldn't recall your siblings' names - I've looked into it. Ada, Jack, Edie, Emmie, Mabel, Joyce, Raymond, Terence.
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Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 11:19 AM UTC
Margaret Rose
You weren't the poetic one, but I just read Kaddish and thought of you;            of 1998 beach photo, Sussex somewhere - as I remember you, perhaps a bit younger;            of sweet peroxide blonde, hiding brunette. I was naive to the dye 'til I saw 'the Hepburn shot' - that 1950 something print, you in Rembrandt light,            or the black beehive wig in family portrait— 1970ish— dicky bows and cocktail dresses - Dad, aged seven, in a shirt and trousers;            of youthful snapshots: Portobello Beach, Edinburgh (4), with parents in Kent (8), your gang of girls some snowy place (14), painting the house with Raymond in Croydon (20);            of latter digital images, 2012, more gaunt and wrinkled, but ever-beautiful - seemingly ageless, as you wished;            of care and trust and overdone vegetables, thin gravy, brussel sprout production lines - beautiful, mundane memories at Cowfold breakfast bar or Langley Green kitchen tops;            of seaside trips to Shoreham, Portsmouth, Brighton, dogs homes and holding my hand past the loud ones;            of picking roses from the garden for 'perfume' - sticky hands, wet floors and beautiful smells;            of early morning rude awakenings, met only with cheer and offers of tea and toast - I still have your butter tray (hospitable even in death);            of my brother's wedding, taking time to jive and seem alive whilst everyone else was dying inside, despite the fact that it was you, and you only, who should care the most (and thus, if you didn't, why should we have);            and of that very temperament, infamous tempers never shown—at least to us—just pure, kind acceptance and forgiveness.            You weren't the poetic one.            You were; the ninth child of a ****** and his wife                               the girl with the Scottish accent                               the wife of an engineer from Mitcham                               the mother of three, the loser of one                               the stern face of discipline                               the BT telephone operator, the masseuse                               the grandmother of three boys                               the ageless face of beauty                               the one I remember best            You told me you couldn't recall your siblings' names - I've looked into it. Ada, Jack, Edie, Emmie, Mabel, Joyce, Raymond, Terence.
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Portobello mushrooms, I use them all the time No matter how topped they always taste just fine From cream cheese and crab to chicken fajita No matter what you just want to eat ‘em Philly beef cheesesteak, they’ve also been topped So many possibilities, I’ll never stop Bleu cheese and steak makes a hell of a filling Portobello themed restaurant, I’d make a killing Chicken Alfredo, or coconut shrimp How about spinach artichoke dip Turkey and dressing or how about pulled pork You’d want to eat those with your fingers or fork Taco, or nacho, or enchilada How it gets better, I got zip, zilch, and nada Or I don’t know how about spinach frittata You could go Greek, lamb, feta, and Kalamata Mediterranean, flavored quinoa or couscous So many options, man just turn me loose Lemon pepper, scallops, or Oyster Rockefeller Or Chicken Rice saffron, it would be yeller At this point, I feel like Bubba from Forrest Gump Going on about toppings, oh well over the **** Buffalo Chicken or Asparagus turkey parm Just about anything you can get at the farm Goes great on a mushroom I think you can see Most people wouldn’t, but, hey they’re just not me
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Sep 12, 2017
Sep 12, 2017 at 6:18 PM UTC
Portobello Mushrooms
Portobello mushrooms washed and gilled sprinkle salt and pepper and a little dill slice a chicken breast, into strips that are thin bell peppers and onions, go on the grill with them Chile powder, cumin and garlic, minced against these flavors, there is really no defense mental trip to Mexico, dining on the street relive vacation through smells, isn't that neat Sauté until the chicken is just cooked through put this on the 'shroom, in a pan with a little brew on the top sprinkle a large amount of cheese cheddar, or mont'y jack, whatever kind you please Pop this in the oven at 350 degrees ten minutes, the smell will begin to tease you will know its done, when the cheese is golden brown put it on a plate, pour a margarita, and chow down.
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Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 9:13 AM UTC
Chicken Fajita Portobello