Although even when I am being idle I have plenty of food for thought both early and late - thoughts both about and not about art.
quote by Gustav Klimt
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
Thunk
An idle thought
Idly thought,
By a thoughtful idler
Idling away his time
In timely thoughts.
Unthoughtful at the time.
Timely brought to the fore.
Idle at four, a forethought.
Insolent in his indolence,
With indolent thoughts.
A thinking faineant.
A feint heart.
Thinking hearty thoughts
Who'd a thunk.
poem by Paul Brookes
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A Faining Faineant
An idle thought
Idly thought,
By a thoughtful idler
Idling away his time
In timely thoughts.
Unthoughtful at the time.
Timely brought to the fore.
Idle at four, a forethought.
Insolent in his indolence,
With indolent thoughts
A faining faineant.
Thinking hearty thoughts,
Complacent contemplating.
Mental mentation.
A mediating meditation.
Ruminating the rudiments.
Reflecting inflexion.
Musing on amusing musings.
Head in the clouds,
Not averse to consider verse.
Copyright 2012 P H Brookes
poem by Paul Brookes
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A Food For Everything!
Meals are the food for the body;
Knowledge is the food for the mind;
Meditation is the food for the spirit;
Music is the food for the love of heart;
Dreams are the food for the consciousness;
Prayer is the food for the Almighty;
Love is the food for the living heart;
Thoughts are the food for the brain;
Colourful ink is the food for the pen;
Ideas are the food for the stories;
Truth is the food for the will;
Sun’s energy is the food for the plants;
Plants are the food for the living beings;
But one man’s food is another man’s poison!
poem by Ramesh T A
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My Thoughts
Thought in the eyes,
The ears.
Thought in mind,
The brain,
Thought in heart,
The soul.
Great thought is great
when it becomes great deeds.
With my thoughts within
Building my world within
Learning with thought;
Is great learning wisdom.
Learning without thought,
Is opportunity lost.
Thought for others
Thought for God
Thought for good
Thought for God’s blessing
Thoughts teach me,
Thoughts educate me,
Thoughts clarify me,
Thoughts enlighten me.
Thoughts make me wise
Thoughts make me patience
Thoughts make me trust others
Thoughts make me clam.
Thoughts before act
Is smart and wise
Act before thoughts
Is stupid and foolish
That’s my thoughts
They make thinking clear
They make belief deepen
They make confidence high.
In thoughts, my world
In my world, make my thoughts.
In thoughts, my words
In my words, make my speech
It’s my thoughts count
Counting my thoughts
To endless counting thoughts
Thinking the thoughts endlessly
My thoughts and thoughts again.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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Overweight with Food
Are you just a tub of lard and
Vastly overweight?
Do you think that when you die you'll
Need a piano crate
To act as coffin for your frame? -
Chosen as you die in shame, with
Only you to take the blame
For years of eating much the same:
A daily calorific fest
Gourmands of your ilk digest!
Is your heart in final fling and
Nearly set to burst?
Are your arteries bunged and clogged and
Feeling now the worst
For wear? - your aneurysm fit to blow
While blood as thick as rising dough
Cries 'Halt! ' to any hope of flow:
A dreadful state to put on show
In front of any nurse!
Best you hail a hearse.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tasty food, plenty of food, food in the right time - and peace at mealtimes.
Refuse To Be The One With That Title
Picking with an esteem,
A choice not to be one idle.
And not one to be guided by...
A looking with eyes from side to side.
Picking with an esteem,
A choice not to be one idle.
And not one to be guided by...
A looking with eyes from side to side.
Looking ahead and keeping one's faith,
With a hold that shows one bridled.
Are the ones who never wait too late...
Until time from them has escaped.
Picking with an esteem,
A choice not to be idle.
And not one to be guided by...
A looking with eyes from side to side.
Picking with an esteem,
A choice not to be...idle.
And not one to be guided by...
A looking with eyes from side to side.
Procrastinators are the ones to make mistakes.
And found to be...idle.
As they watch time from them fly right by...
While trying to catch up with slow strides.
Picking with an esteem,
A choice not to be one idle.
And not one to be guided by...
A looking with eyes from side to side.
Picking with an esteem,
A choice not to be...idle.
And not one to be guided by...
A looking with eyes from side to side.
Procrastinators are the ones to make mistakes.
And found to be those idle.
While trying to catch up with slow strides,
As they watch time from them fly right by.
Don't procrastinate and find it's much too late.
Refuse to be the one left idle.
Don't procrastinate and find it's much too late.
Refuse to be the one left idle.
Don't procrastinate and find it's much too late.
Refuse to be the one left idle.
Refuse to be the one left idle.
And...
Don't procrastinate,
To find it's much too late.
Refuse to be the one...
With that title.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Divine Poetry
Poet never ceases to be poet
He can't remain quiet
He is not dependant on fate
He is with the scene and never late
Poetry is my food
I have completely understood
If I fail to write anytime in a day
That is enough cause for me to be taken away
I shall be no more
If thoughts compel me to feel bore
Thoughts just emerge from the idle store
Pen gets strength to write more and more
Poetry is dear to me like wife
It is also like an edge of knife
It may compel you to write tough
And land you in trouble to pass through rough
But you got to be fearless
As that may be tough situation to face
Many readers may try to pull your legs
When your are reciting it on the stage
It is easy to swim in imagery
Float in dreams with lines silvery
Moon may seem very near
To enjoy its beauty without fear
Poetry as such is divine gift
It may never allow having shift
He is the one who instills thought
When with peaceful mind they are sought
It is divinity that makes home
Pen must write always to welcome
Readers must enjoy skill and talent
Swim with melody and enjoy the moment
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Syrup Sponge
Pour a pint of cream
Upon my spongy bulge!
Scoop me with a
Hefty spoon;
Taste my essence -
Do you swoon?
Feed your self-esteem; indulge
In me until you burst -
Death by syrup sponge - you're cursed!
And as the count in inches gain
Upon your weary waist, the strain
Will tell, but you'll not care -
Steeped in sponge, you're unaware!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food
food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The early blackbird
A blackbird has been sitting outside the window
for some time this morning, and
I’m trying to tune in to its blackbird thoughts,
if indeed it’s burdened with such tiresome
delaying tactics to action…
it seems indecisive, though; evidently, plumply,
having well breakfasted; does
the head switching left, right,
a little slower than with alarm,
signify some Hamlet thought?
it could be wondering, if,
in view of what a blackbird would call
global warming rather than
an early summer,
it should sing?
since the early bird, it must have been
taught, or intuited, catches the first mate..
I try looking at it severe of mind,
as mindless tool of Evolution
(and yes, me too…)
only concerned with food and sex
and sex and food,
and other internet concerns
in cyber blackbird space…
but that goes nowhere in the mind..
I open the front door a crack,
whistle a poor imitation of a blackbird’s song;
it twists its head for a moment
as of impatience at some irrelevant comment;
flies off; returns; like I do, when
I’ve lost the train of thought
that sent me somewhere in the house
but have forgotten what it was…
I’ll keep an eye out for it tomorrow…
and turn back to the computer,
remembering Nicholas of Cusa
who says, there is no other:
always, we are looking
at the face of God…
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Granny Them Words
Make hay while the sun shines
Don’t be idle don’t waste time
Think before you talk
You must creep before you walk
Idle hands find idle things to do
Do unto others as you want done unto you
Short cut leads to short life
Every man needs a house for his wife
Go to school get an education
For the world is full of corruption
Birds of a feather flock together
Respect your mother and father
Early to bed and early to rise
Makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise
Like a song from a flock of birds
These where Granny Theme Words
This poem is dedicated to my deceased grandmother Maude Patterson may she rest in peace.
poem by Anthony Yorke
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Autobiography
My father made the walls resound,
He wore his collar the wrong way round.
When I was five the black dreamscame;
Nothing after was quite the same.
When I woke they did not care;
Nobody, nobody was there.
In my childhood trees were green
And there was plenty to be seen.
When my silent terror cried,
Nobody, nobody replied.
I got up; the chilly sun
Saw me walk away alone.
My mother wore a yellow dress;
Gentle, gently, gentleness.
The dark was talking to the dead;
The lamp was dark beside my bed.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
poem by Louis Macneice
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Progress would not have been the rarity it is if the early food had not been the late poison.
quote by Walter Bagehot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Salad is Incompatible with Life
Yes, my waist is fifty inches -
Big for me because I'm short.
And yes, I like my cheddar cheese
When partnered with a vintage port.
Okay, okay, that double cream
Is always served with pud,
And cake and biscuits with my tea
Are just no bloody good
For my poor hardened arteries,
But see my point of view,
Please dear wifey if you please,
A Salad makes me spew!
I'd rather eat a bowl of air
Than crunch away on greens;
Drink water from the toilet bowl
Or nibble on my jeans!
But salad! Are you there?
You know it makes me snappy -
So let me fill my face with grub,
Stay fat, and die young happy!
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Meek Mind
My mild mind is meek and I do caress your thought
That inhabits your mind.
My manner inhibits stress, the very lamb of distress,
Each spot of anxiety is manufactured.
The smell of your teeth is cruel when you bite
For the food is a whim, a wish and forethought.
The inner thinking brain studied thoughts so fabulous
From the living centre we have named.
The teeth are like pencils of lead
That draw on thoughts of food.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Some food
Some food is
Medicine...
Medicine is some food...
Some food is poison...
Some food is Tenson...
Some food is Fear...
Some food is lovely...
Some food is Bland...
Some food is sweety...
Some food is spicy...
Some food is nothing...
Food is not only food
A good eatable medicine...
At only some food...
Some food...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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The Poor Know manythings what the rich may not know..
Plenty of food on the table,
plenty of restaurants that serve,
plenty of appetite that we have,
Eat and wash it with drinks soft and hard,
come back home and sleep on the bed,
middle of the night, start the burbs,
then lie down to have the sleep,
again, burps, burps with rolling gas,
sometimes hiccups accompany and rocks,
look for the antacid in the shelves,
in the drawer and kitchen cabinets,
if find a sachet or a bottle,
that seems to be a God,
mix it with water and gulp it,
slowly the stomach is quietened,
rumbles not heard, the gas is not out,
the sleep arrives and we sleep..
A poor man who has no food,
may sleep silently in trance.
A poor man who has no comfort,
may not feel anything uncomfortable.
Those who know the comfort,
can differentiate the difference,
those who are poor and ill,
are comfortable with these evils.
as they know not meaning for good life,
as they are not aware of,
what they have to strive.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Food For Thought
Milk and honey
Your lips are milk and honey oh oh
Overflowing
You get my juices going
Sweet and tasty
Your love is sweet and tasty oh oh
Skin so creamy
Your bodys soft and dreamy
Food for thought
You give me food for thought
Filling me up with your love
I cant control my hands
Champagne kisses
You give me champagne kisses oh oh
Cool my passion
Slow down my fast reaction
Hot and spicy
Your love is hot and spicy oh oh
Somethings burning
Down in your life Im turning
Food for thought
You give me food for thought
Filling me up with your love
I cant control my hands
Food for thought
You give me food for thought
Oh dont let me down
Ill starve without your love
Starve without your love
Starve without your love
Starve without your love
Starve without your love
Starve without your love
Somethings cooking
I know that somethings cooking oh oh
In your kitchen
I feel my hunger rising
So feed my senses
Come on and feed my senses oh oh
Im not starving
I need a second helping
Food for thought
You give me food for thought
Filling me up with your love
I cant control my hands
Food for thought
You give me food for thought
Oh dont let me down
Ill starve without your love
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Late Cat
Late to train
Late to bus
Late to class
And late to party;
She is everywhere a late cat!
Late to eat
Late to sleep
Late to fate
And late to luck;
She is for everything a late cat!
Late to clock
Late to block
Late to dash
Against the truck
And, lo! Even late to death;
She is always a late cat!
poem by Sasikala Kamandula
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Feed Them!
Plenty of fertile land,
In every host and guest,
Plenty of much needed grains,
In every other country,
We have enough food to feed,
But People are hungry.
One billion in total,
Seven tenth of them in Asia,
People have no money,
People have no man created money,
They sleep in hungry,
People have no mint created coins,
To buy the food to evade pain,
To fill their acidic stomach,
Every six person on earth,
One person is skeletal,
With haunted look,
One hundredth of them,
In the developed world,
shame on the hypocrites,
who hold back and destroy the food.
Gods of human, Feed them.
Gods of heaven, Feed them.
Gods of hell, Feed them.
Singular God of the desert,
Please feed them.
with the food to the poor
and the knowledge to the ignorant,
who are recalcitrant in nature,
selling the Gods to human.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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