Related quotes
Choices
i prefer smooth peanut butter
to crunchy
mind you
crunchy is all right
but i prefer smooth.
i prefer strawberry jam
to raspberry
mind you
raspberry is tasty
but it's got all those seeds
and i prefer strawberry.
i prefer mustard
to mayonaisse
mind you mayonaisse has it's place
amongst condiments
but is likely to go bad
if left out to long
and poison everyone
so on the whole i prefer mustard.
i prefer cooked meat
to raw meat
for much the same reason
as i prefer mustard to mayonaisse
although it also has to do
with the fact that i don't
like my meat to bleat
or moo or make chicken noises (BAGOCK!)
when i eat
so i tend to avoid the raw
though mind you
the meat that i prefer
may at some time have been raw.
i prefer not to say
why i think so
but i do
and i suppose it's all
just a matter of taste
so if you'd prefer to think so
then crunchy is better
than smooth
even if it does interfere
with the texture of the
peanut butter
and jelly (strawberry) sandwich
which ought to be somewhat
devoid of substance
merely a sticky sweet something
to fill your stomach
put mayonaisse on it
if you like
i'd prefer not to think about it.
poem by Laura Sewell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Margo Wants The Mustard
I watch her move up and down the beach, well
The fellows drool, but shes out of their reach, and
These are not a part of the scheme, but
Let them hope, and let them dream
So many dreams in the mind of the men, well
Come to life through a good one love
Margo walks in another place, well
Its in their minds, and its on her face
Some like it cool
Some like it hot
Some give a little
Some give a lot
Some wanna give everything that theyve got
Margo wants the mustard
Yeh, she needs a little spice
Margo wants the mustard
Then shell spread it on real light
Margo wants the mustard
Yeh, shell never ever stop
Margo wants the mustard
It will take her to the top
Shes only got to smile that way when
It lifts your heart, throws your troubles away, and
When she moves, well Ive got to say
This rhythm method goes a long, long way
Its in the bones, and its in the head
This precious thing has got to be fed, well
I shouldnt say, but it must be said
Its even better when its in your bed
Some like it cool
Some like it hot
Some give a little
Some give a lot
Some wanna give everything that theyve got
Margo wants the mustard
Yeh, she needs a little spice
Margo wants the mustard
Then shell spread it on real light
Margo wants the mustard
Shell never ever stop
Margo wants the mustard
It will take her to the top
(a wop bop a loo mop, a lop bom bom)
[classic es solo]
I cant explain what she motivates, but
Its all around, but its hard to relate
It must be close to heavenly bliss though
How I wish I could follow this and
Splashing out all over the place
Pour it all over the human race, yeh
I may be starting another sin, but
Sit right back, watch the fun begin
Some like it cool
Some like it hot
Some give a little
Some give a lot
Some wanna give everything that theyve got
Margo wants the mustard
Yeh, she needs a little spice
Margo wants the mustard
Then shell spread it on real light
Margo wants the mustard
Yeh, shell never ever stop
Margo wants the mustard
It will take her to the top
Margo wants the mustard
Yeh, she needs a little spice
Margo wants the mustard
Then shell spread it on real light
Margo wants the mustard
Yeh, shell never ever stop
Margo wants the mustard
It will take her to the top...
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Meat Ball
(l. singer-h.zaret)
The little man walked up and down
To find an eating place in town
He read the menu through and through
To see what fifteen cents could do
One meat ball, one meat ball
Well, he could afford but one meat ball
He told the waiter near at hand
A simple dinner he had planned
The guests were startled one and all to hear
That waiter loudly call
One meat ball, one meat ball
Well, this here gent wants one meat ball
Little man felt very bad
One meat ball was all he had
And in his dreams he hears that call
Ya gets no bread with one meat ball
One meat ball, one meat ball
Well, you get no bread with one meat ball
Well, he could afford but one meat ball
One meat ball, one meat ball
All he could afford was one meat ball
One meat ball
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For Molly, Concerning God
Is God the one who eats the meat
off the bones of dead people?
-Molly Miranda Jong-Fast, age 3 1/2
God is the one,
Molly,
whether we call him
Him,
or Her,
treeform or spewing
volcano,
Vesuvius or vulva,
penis-rock,
or reindeer-on-cave-wall,
God is the one
who eats
our meat,
Molly,
& we yield
our meat
up willingly.
Meat is our
element,
meat is our
lesson.
When our bodies fill
with each other,
when our blood swells
in our organs
aching for another,
body of meat,
heart of meat,
soul of meat,
we are only doing
what God wants
us to—
meat joining meat
to become insubstantial air,
meat fusing
with meat
to make
a small wonder
like you.
The wonder of you
is that you push
our questions
along into
the future—
so that I know
again
the wonder of meat
through you,
the wonder of meat
turning to philosophy,
the wonder of meat
transubstantiated
into poetry,
the wonder of
sky-blue meat
in your roundest eyes,
the wonder of
dawn-colored meat
in your cheeks & palms,
the wonder of meat
becoming
air.
You
are my theorem,
my proof,
my meaty metaphysics,
my little questioner,
my small Socrates
of the nursery-schoolyard.
To think that
such wonder
can come from meat!
Well then,
if God is hungry—
let Him eat,
let Her eat.
poem by Erica Jong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When You Touch Me
when you touch me
something in me grows
like a mustard
and then as Jesus once said
the mustard
becomes a tree and i am here
on top of everything
flowering fruiting
blooming ripening
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ballade 2
In Antwerp, Bruges, Ostend and Ghent
I used to order food with flair,
But in every inn to which I went
They always brought me, with my fare,
With every roast and mutton dish,
With boar, with rabbit, pigeon, bustard,
With fresh and with salt-water fish,
Always, never asking, mustard.
I ordered herring, said I'd like
Carp for supper at the bar,
And called for simple boiled pike,
And two large sole, when I ate at Spa.
I ordered green sauce when in Brussels;
The waiter stared and looked disgusted;
The bus boy brought in with my mussels
As always, never asking, mustard.
I couldn't eat or drink without it.
They add it to the water they
Boil the fish in and-don't doubt it-
The drippings from the roast each day
Are tossed into a mustard vat
In which they're mixed, and then entrusted
To those who bring-they're trained at that-
Always, never asking, mustard.
Prince, it's clear a spice like clove
can drop its guard. It won't be busted.
There's just one thing these people serve:
Always, never asking, mustard.
poem by Eustache Deschamps
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kielbasa
No,
I'm not Polish.
Do I have to be?
To love kielbasa...
With scrambled eggs, hashbrowns
And hot tea.
That's my favorite,
Although I do enjoy it with beans.
Leafy vegetables like cabbage also will do.
I tried to make it once.
1 -1/2 lbs of lean boneless pork
1/2 boneless veal
1 tsp.salt to add zest and zeal.
I used 1 tsp. of black crushed pepper,
With three cloves of crushed fresh garlic.
A tablespoon of mustard seed...
And a 1/4 cup of ice also crushed.
Make sure you get the casing.
Cut the meat into small chunks.
Then grind the meat with the seasonings and ice.
Mix this well...
Stuff the mixed meat into the casing.
Either smoke this stuff in an outside smoker.
Or grill.
Oh yes...
Don't forget to tie a knot into the casing!
And close each end.
If you don't you'll have sausage all over the place.
Just a Spring recipe to enjoy for Easter AND...
St. Patrick's Day.
But the Irish have their own separate deliciousness!
Recipe:
Courtesy of Global Gourmet...Global Destinations
www.globalgourmet.com
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Meat And Potato Man
meat and potato man
I like my steak well done, my taters fried
Football games on monday night
Its just who i am
A meat and potato man
I like my coffee black
Oltv shows
My women hot and my beer ice cold
Its just who i am
A meat and potato man
I dont like caviar, sushi bars,
The irs or phony stars
Im a haggard fan
A meat and potato man
I like my fishinholes, lightninbugs
Flatt nscruggs, and my womans love
Its just who i am
A meat and potato man
I like my wrangler jeans, cowboy boots
Cornbread and beans and country roots
Its just who i am
A meat and potato man
I dont like politics, hypocrites
Folks with poodles dressed like kids
Im a hounddog fan
A meat and potato manyeah, thats what i am,
A meat and potato man
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Meat & Potato Man
Meat and potato man
I like my steak well done, my taters fried
Football games on monday night
Its just who I am
A meat and potato man
I like my coffee black
Oltv shows
My women hot and my beer ice cold
Its just who I am
A meat and potato man
I dont like caviar, sushi bars,
The irs or phony stars
Im a haggard fan
A meat and potato man
I like my fishinholes, lightninbugs
Flatt nscruggs, and my womans love
Its just who I am
A meat and potato man
I like my wrangler jeans, cowboy boots
Cornbread and beans and country roots
Its just who I am
A meat and potato man
I dont like politics, hypocrites
Folks with poodles dressed like kids
Im a hounddog fan
A meat and potato manyeah, thats what I am,
A meat and potato man
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mustard 'And' Pudding?
Climbing out the crib,
To take care of personal business...
Is taught.
And becomes a necessity.
A work ethic.
A game daily sought to play,
As a way of life to survive.
Thriving on lip does not cut the mustard.
It would be nice to have a team-mate,
To relay strategies.
But when one is taught to win,
Only those accustomed to hitting homeruns...
Get the attention.
Time is rarely given,
To those boasting of what they've done.
Action is the key to unlock doors these days.
'What do you mean by...
Thriving on lip does not cut the mustard? '
Show me your attempts of a wish to succeed.
I don't want to 'hear' about your expectations.
The proof is in the pudding.
'Mustard 'and' pudding?
Ugh!
I can see why you live alone.
That's a little too eccentric for me.'
You are not the one I am soliciting.
'Trust me...
I don't know which one of us is happier.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bone OUT
Dog
Did not
Lovengely
Eat at...
Meat...
Why...?
Meat bone less
Meat...
So...
Dog did not
Eat meet...
Dog wanted for
Bone...
With meat...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: The Mustard Seed
How great a power fills a mustard seed-
A miniscule sphere, packed with silent life!
That falls in soil right, turning tree to feed
Both beasts and human beings, in much strife.
What creative mind made the mustard seed,
That rudely wakened, sprouts to mammoth tree!
With multitude of leaves verdure indeed,
And branches which nest birds, so proud and free.
God’s Kingdom too is like a mustard seed
That grows infinitesimally big with time,
And houses righteous souls that always heed
To Maker’s code regardless of earth’s clime.
The beauty of Heaven is foretold thus:
So fathomless, that none should ever miss!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-2-2007
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Mustard Seed Develops Exponentially?
Sometimes an apology
is aesthetically necessary.
To excuse a moment of muddled
distracted introverted preoccupation.
Even though or when inferably...
an apology is not necessary.
Sometimes an apology
is absolutely necessary.
To excuse a moment of extreme stupidity
or faux pas various social misdemeanors.
Even when we may be absolutely innocent
framed misunderstood or sadly guilty as sin.
Such socially interactive afterthought
and kind commendable consideration.
Is a character forming trait
that can appease elevate beautify.
A mere agitated mortal into
a person attaining great compassion.
These are tiny mustard seeds
of apparent insignificance.
From which the mighty
mustard tree may grow.
‘The kingdom of the heavens
is like a mustard grain, ...
and becomes a tree, so that the birds
of heaven come and find lodging...'
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Muse From The Forest
The white gold,
The black gold,
The red gold,
The yellow gold,
'Obroni-Nephew' is about to teach you all;
Like the very call of a muse from the forest.
The Chinese eat all animals, fish and insects;
The very call from the forest with a view but,
Do you like to be fed with crocodile meat?
The lizard meat,
The lion meat,
The tiger meat,
The snake meat,
The elephant meat,
Life is like that for many who eat everything;
The Chinese eat all animals, fish and insects.
Life is like a visit to the biggest cemetery on earth,
Do you like to be fed with cockroaches?
Whatever we eat today,
We will be burried one day.
Of the brown gold,
Of the orange gold,
Of the green gold,
Of the blue gold,
The Chinese eat all meat, fish and insects.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Mustard Tree
Sometimes an apology
is aesthetically necessary.
To excuse a moment of muddled
distracted preoccupation.
Even though or when inferably...
an apology is not necessary.
Such socially interactive afterthought
and commendable consideration.
Is a character forming trait
that can appease elevate.
A mere agitated mortal into
a person attaining great compassion.
These are mustard tiny seeds
of apparent insignificance.
From which the mighty
mustard tree may grow.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rare Meat.
Rare meat.
The blackbird seem to sing.
And though I spluttered
'I am vegetarian'
Rare Meat, rare meat!
And my neighbour
Talked of the importance of
'Being in harness again'
Then I realised,
The bird was much nearer to understanding
The kind of species I am!
Rare meat!
And cannon fodder for the cowboys
And manipulators,
All the same!
For my heart
Will always stray to the unheard tune.
And the song of the bird,
Comforted the taut nerves
Of a weary owl.
Who`s been round the clock,
But still does not like the carousel!
poem by Peter Vealey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Mans Meat
Cold beer and a strange cigarette
Getting you high getting you wet
Falling in love falling out of debt
Straight gay black or white
Strutting in the dark hiding in the light
Doing it wrong doing it right just doing it
You got your life on the one hand
Mine in the other
I got the right we all got the right
One mans meat is the other mans lousy luck
One mans meat is someones empty well
One mans meat is some guys aching butt
One mans meat is another mans living hell
Short fat thick or thin
Take it in the gut take it on the chin
Living in glory living in sin
Hard days work going down slow
Riding the road where the greengrass grows
Watching in die what dyou know
Watch it
You got your life on the one hand
Mine in the other
I got the right
One mans meat is the other mans lousy luck
One mans meat is someones empty well
One mans meat is some guys aching butt
One mans meat is another mans living hell
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Meat City
Well I been meat city to see for myself
Well I been meat city to see for myself
Been meat city, been meat...
Just got to give me some rock n roll
People were dancing like theres no tomorrow
Meat city
Fingerlickin chickinpickin meat city shookdown u.s.a.
Pig meat city
Well I been the mountain to see for myself
Well I been the mountain to see for myself
Been the mountain, been the...
Just got to give me some rock n roll
Snake doctors shakin like theres no tomorrow
Freak city
Chickinsuckin mothertruckin meat city shookdown u.s.a.
Pig meat city
Well Im gonna china to see for myself
Well Im gonna china to see for myself
Gonna china gonna ...
Just got to give me some rock n roll
People were jumping like theres no tomorrow
Meat city
Fingerlickin chickinpickin meat city shookdown u.s.a.
Pig meat city
Well Im gonna china
Yes Im gonna china
Well Im gonna china
Yes Im gonna china
Im gonna china
Yes Im gonna china
Alright
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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