138 posts
  • nocturnal_enigma 8w


    Knife in her hand; Cutting.
    In the kitchen, she's cooking.
    The fire is hot; She's fighting.
    Cook so good; Tantalizing!
    Hm...It's time for food-tasting.
    Each meal so tasty; Not magicking.
    Now, time to eat. We'll be sitting.

    © Nuruliffa Emirah
    @ nocturnal_enigma

  • amtupu_ 8w

    so this is her, grandma,
    infatuated by her grandkids
    brought home by war
    and the scramble for gold
    like foreign dishes.

    their love and romance
    is shared between a radiant
    white stove and domestic
    chicken feet.

    "tonight, we'll do pig head
    in a mud mug pot."

    she whips everything
    in front of her,
    and leaves her fingers
    incongruously dirty

    but 'better women are battered,'
    and they love her porridge.
    it's served hot in the morning
    and they dance to brush off
    the cold of the morning

    she believes water is blue
    and whenever she speaks
    the thunder of her mother language
    she leaves traces of reminders
    that she carries the earth
    as a king dom[e]

    and to them,
    her brewery is the sky
    that echoes silence
    when it is needed
    as evidence of tranquil.

    "be blessed, grandma.
    thank you,"
    slogans that co-exist
    when every knowledge
    of war is distilled.

    the world was built
    from a woman's womb,
    and she seasons it
    with love and will.
    - @amtupu_

    #wod #grandma #kitchen #pod @miraquill @writersnetwork Thank You ❤️(23)

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    the earth
    was brewed
    in a woman's
    womb and
    seasoned with


  • diamond49 8w

    Enter into granny's kitchen

    In a big vessel oil boiling hot
    Other side vegetables cooking in a pot

    She mix it with salt and pepper turmeric you may call
    Every spoon is full of flavors, you can taste it all

    She serves me chhole bhature with butter on the top
    No moment late I grab up plate &say hot hot hot hot hot!

    Every moment was super amazing can tell
    But the most amazing thing I remember was its smell

    She looks so younger than women of her age
    As the kitchen for her wasn't a cage

    Her recipe book , she used to hide
    Why not, it was something of her pride

    Still cooking new dishes in kitchen
    Her secret recipe is always hidden..

    I love you Dada.. (granny)


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    Granny's Kitchen


  • theclairebaire 11w


    86 is the word
    Every kitchen has heard
    Oftentimes it means you're out
    Othertimes you wish to just verbally pout

    86 is the word
    That cooks cry when heard
    They feel stressed about
    They didn't get their ordering time out

    86 is the word
    That wait staff cry when heard
    Waiters and waitresses alike
    Feel now compelled to fight

    86 is the word
    Every kitchen manager has heard
    They flip their shit
    When they have had enough of it

    Now I know for sure
    Not to say the word
    For I do NOT want to get in the mix


  • reshma_kausar_mohideen 15w


    I proudly say about my favourite food,
    Is the only one since my childhood,
    I have been to so many places,
    All having unique flavoured traces.

    Let me make your mouth water,
    While each stanza you carefully decipher,
    The aroma of pure ghee on low flame,
    And juicy tomatoes that commence the game.

    Tangy smell of the tender red beauties,
    Calls in the spices to perform their duties,
    Ginger, garlic and onion, all as a paste,
    Make their entry escalating the taste.

    Roast the spices until the aroma diffuses,
    Grind them fine, until no lump surfaces,
    Dives in the greens, fried onions & yohgurt,
    Spicy aroma arouses your taste bud.

    Sour-spicy mixture makes you salivate,
    The taste of the grub is worth the wait,
    Almond and raisins to give a royal feel,
    Too tempting the food appears to deal.

    Now goes in the heart of the dish,
    Veggies or non-veg, as per your wish,
    Cover the lid ,let it cook until done,
    Smoke of the coal, is then to be given.

    You are ready with a delicious spread,
    Waiting for the Basmati rice to be laid,
    Again the lid goes on, for a final stroke,
    To cover the rice, in the spicy smoke.

    At last you sprinkle some edible colour,
    Drizzle a spoonful of clarified butter,
    Lay some coriander leaves to garnish,
    And Fried onions to complete the dish.

    Serve it hot with love and care,
    It tastes even better, if you share,
    Biryani is my favourite, my poem's gist,
    Has always ruled my favourite food list.


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  • beensn 20w

    World's natural kitchen
    Doesn't want to live in debt.
    What it borrows in the day
    Is promptly returned at night.

  • dinakarreddy 22w

    Kitchen creative

    I washed dishes.
    Today. Tomorrow. And in the parallel universe.


  • saika_poem 23w


    I sat down on the cold kitchen floor
    and cried.
    Do you remember that morning?
    I was so devastated that
    I couldn't even eat breakfast that day.
    I couldn't tell anyone,
    but I wanted to tell you.
    I just couldn't get the words out.
    Would I've been able to smile if I had contacted you at that moment,
    when you popped into my head?

  • ankuaabha 26w


  • shruti_25904 28w

    #kitchen #mirakee @writersnetwork @writersbay #ceesreposts

    Thought of reposting my old post ������

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    Here is a short kitchen story which shows that unity can bind us, but if we all waste our precious time on competing with each other that who is the best, we can never live our life happily.

    Plate -- I m the boss of the kitchen family. Everyone spends money on me, clean me, serve delicious foods on me and relish it...

    Spoon -- Nothing special... Everyone eats on you. But people use me to eat food. It takes time to clean you. But I take just some seconds to clean myself.

    Sink --- shut up... You all are washed on me... If I wasnt there, you would have no existence

    Knife -- people use me to cut veggies, fruits. I have a brother peeler. People use him to peel the veggies and fruits. But the sorrow fact is that... Some people use us to murder. We just can't resist it. We want justice we want justice.

    Foods --- we are the best. If we weren't there, what's the use of you people...

    The actual boss of the home enters...
    All these utensils have been quite old. Let me sell all these and purchase a new set of cutlery...

    Moral of the story - never showoff or brag yourself. The thought that you are the best and no one can surpass you is the biggest flaw that spoils your mindset.

  • shubham_20 31w

    Bhai mujhe chef baana hai

    Ziada force maat karo kitchen pehale se jalaa deye


  • desert_rain 33w

    Aroma of love

    Our amity is of the right proportion
    It is the kitchen of our excitement
    Churning out delectable memories
    Igniting an alluring fire of ardour

    Fry the meat of love
    not for only us to enjoy
    But for people to feel
    the endless possibilities
    that love brings

    Stir, mix, crumble the ingredients
    Let's make our favourite meal
    that is not only satisfying
    but essential for our growth

    It takes the experience of an expert
    Or the passion of an hobbyist
    To cook a meal so delicious
    That we keep asking for more

    You are a class of your own
    And I have got my style
    merging them together
    brings a masterpiece

    I can feel it
    I can smell it
    you asked me what?
    the aroma of love.


  • sweedle 36w

    I am the teapot you never clean, not with a sincere heart. You keep saying you will replace me with a better looking one but you don't, who else could handle your tantrums than me? You grumble I don't do much but did you ever notice a change in the way tea tastes when it's cooked in my belly ? I am an embarrassment among your friends who come for a quick sip and a delight when people around you make more noise than I do. Soot covers my body and my shine dulls because of your negligence. Yet I am the only one who keeps you company from the crack of the dawn to the dead of the night. I am the teapot you will always fail to love, I will be gone before you know what I was.


  • the_beautiful_cage 36w

    If pressure cooker could speak, what it would say?

    #kitchen #wod #thebeautifulcage #salonigrover #heartfelt

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    If you take the pressure out
    all at once, it will result into a blast.

    If you deal with it slowly and steadily
    It will process everything inside you.

    It's not the pressure on you
    but how you deal with it,
    changes everything !

    Saloni Grover


  • aratrikabee 36w

    Kitchen Talk

    I went to the kitchen as I wished to have somthing fizzy
    Spoon says 'Don't spin me or else I get dizzy
    But you keep me and Bowl busy'
    ' If you throw me hard in the sink
    I feel I am in a skating rink'
    ' As I entered the kichen with a sauce pan
    I got my favorite soup can
    The Soup said 'Sauce pan cook me til I am ready'
    Sauce pan said ' Okay but look at that Spagetti'
    Soup cried 'Put more vegetables in me'
    But 'Ahoy' a delicious snack is waiting to be!
    In the course of chopping don't bang me to hard
    Or else I will become a complete nerd!
    Sauce pan say 'Don't boil the soup to hot
    Or you will make me into a clot!
    I am a Turner
    But don't put me on my friend 'Burner"
    I am a friend of vegetables that has skin,yes I am Peeler!
    But don't think I am a killer!

  • restless_nib 36w

    Whose space is it anyway

    Spices with names I’ve learnt
    Flavours with memories I’ve yearned

    An embrace of all my senses
    This is a space I hadn’t befriended

    Marry a foodie and repent no cooking
    Skills I lacked but I didn’t miss

    For you made the kitchen your space
    Sous chef was all I had to be

    While you cooked like a king
    I set the table like a queen

    Select and open our wine
    Lighting, music and all the setting

    Anything to avoid being in charge
    Of that unfamiliar space the kitchen

    But then you were gone too soon
    Leaving me with pots and pans I barely understood

    Appliances that made no sense to me
    Why cook when ordering in let me be carefree

    But lockdown changed that in one go
    I befriended that space which was yours before

    YouTube and WhatsApp recipes abound
    Your girl makes up for you not being around

    Is this sense of food and taste genetic
    Coz how does a child who eats so less still get it

    I firmly claim the kitchen as a space
    To honour you and that which you aced

    Even if most days I only set the menu
    The kitchen and I have a relationship anew

    We cook with spices and condiments galore
    But the secret ingredient is love for sure

    The kitchen tests you in no small ways
    But gives you bounties to enjoy your days

    A place of passion, practicality and pride
    To go on a journey that’s a culinary ride


  • carrie09 36w

    #kitchen #wod
    This is about a grinding stone that plays an important role in grinding spices and herbs
    In our household. Now it's rarely used since grinder machine took its place.
    I am not sure whether it falls in utensils category or not but anyhow it had been part and parcel of our kitchen. So just want to write something about the grinding stone because I missed the taste Of spices and herbs that it had produced long time ago.

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    A grinding stone

    Long time ago I was a housewife good old friend.
    She leaned on me and knelt on me
    to quern her exotic spices and herbs
    and create her best relishing dish
    On dining table for her guests

    Today we rarely meet again
    she desert me in dark corner
    of her storeroom.
    I fear my days are gone.

    A nostalgia of good old days
    when we were good friends
    Me and housewife ,
    Today perhaps she had grown old
    Her strength to quern the spice has gone
    Perhaps I thought as years gone by
    her fragile body loss the strength
    to lay and raise me up and down on ground,
    for I a dark grey heavy grinding stone
    Or maybe I am slow and couldn't match to grind in speed of modern time

    Thus years gone by I was replaced
    by highly fashion grinder new model
    which sit proudly among her kitchen ware
    Shrieking on high pitch notes
    grinding spices and herbs
    The modern grinder stole my job
    breaking my friendship with housewife.


  • msushil 36w

    Callous you are,
    brutal you are,
    proudness is breathed out
    from you Oh! The society.
    Heinous may be action
    of inhabitants of many,
    pretension may be
    weapon of many,
    utensil never ceases its service,
    food of the kitchen
    becomes its supply
    to every belly evil or good.
    Lushes misuse
    its supply as aid
    to their enjoyment
    goons misuse for miscreation,
    it never skives off its duty,
    it never famishes anybody
    who desires
    to live in the world.

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    Callous you are,
    brutal you are,
    proudness is breathed out
    from you Oh! The society.
    Heinous may be action
    of inhabitants of many,
    pretension may be
    weapon of many,
    utensil never ceases its service,
    food of the kitchen
    becomes its supply
    to every belly evil or good.
    Lushes misuse
    its supply as aid
    to their enjoyment
    goons misuse for miscreation,
    it never skives off its duty,
    it never famishes anybody

  • absynth 36w

    b(u/i)tter (kn/l)ife

    The butter knife hates being awakened from its slumber every morning only to have its stainless steel face dipped in greasy reality. Of course it doesn't have a greedy tongue like its human so it speaks through its teeth. Rather rebels through them by stubbornly clinging onto the remnants of butter. Perhaps it doesn't approve of the buttery morning kisses it shares with the slice of toast and finds it to be a hot and dry lover. What an unhealthy and unhappy human he must be who first takes voyeuristic delight in this sight and then gobbles up the toast before her steely eyes.


  • artemiswrites 36w

    This poem is from the perspective of a milk saucepan as it muses about the woman in the family, the being it is most familiar with. We tend to unintentionally attach the Kitchen and everything it stands for with our women and we most often take them for granted and consider them as being appendages attached to kitchens, not different from the utensils themselves.

    @writersnetwork #writersnetwork @mirakee #mirakee #pod #kitchen #wod

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    She is the only permanent being in my world,
    says the milk saucepan,
    every time someone arrives,
    She exchanges smiles and
    blends into the walls of the

    She stares into the distance as tea
    leaves and boiling water fills me,
    her eyes are
    glazed over, she has the look of a dreamer
    robbed of her dreams, and when I
    become a volcanic vent that spurts
    Darjeeling Tea,
    she almost forgets to turn off the stove,

    She is all deft but burnt fingers,
    kind smiles and glazed eyes.

    They see her and talk to her, over the
    sounds of sizzling oil and hot samosas,
    but they only see the Kitchen
    when they see her,
    She and I are not so different,
    says the milk saucepan,
    Both of us are but utensils in their eyes.