Better a salt herring on your own table, than a fresh pike on another man's.
Related quotes
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
Vote! | Copy!
Flies In Face Challenges
a fresh start a fat check is window to new worlds
man motives material moves flies in face challenges spies
opportunities buildings iconic represent world desires
global aspirations are a meal table set with room temperature wine
most citizens drink tea coffee eat at tables below the salt
at the king’s high table swords are still crossed with empire intent
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ode to Salt
This salt
in the salt cellar
I once saw in the salt mines.
I know
you won't
believe me
but
it sings
salt sings, the skin
of the salt mines
sings
with a mouth smothered
by the earth.
I shivered in those
solitudes
when I heard
the voice
of
the salt
in the desert.
Near Antofagasta
the nitrous
pampa
resounds:
a
broken
v oice,
a mournful
song.
In its caves
the salt moans, mountain
of buried light,
translucent cathedral,
crystal of the sea, oblivion
of the waves.
And then on every table
in the world,
salt,
we see your piquant
powder
sprinkling
vital light
upon
our food.
Preserver
of the ancient
holds of ships,
discoverer
on
the high seas,
earliest
sailor
of the unknown, shifting
byways of the foam.
Dust of the sea, in you
the tongue receives a kiss
from ocean night:
taste imparts to every seasoned
dish your ocean essence;
the smallest,
miniature
wave from the saltcellar
reveals to us
more than domestic whiteness;
in it, we taste finitude.
poem by Pablo Neruda
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
North of North
I’m treading shallow water
and there’s moss on all sides of the trees
evergreen
this must be north,
north of north.
“Sometimes I am rock-like
and sometimes I am herring
and sometimes I am you.”
I say this while the water works like wind
upon my eyelashes.
When you are underwater you are always crying
or never crying
and it doesn’t look so blue.
Your boots are territorially based,
rock and rock and mud.
“Do you plan on swimming the whole way? ”
I close my eyes like you don’t exist
like I am being eaten by a bear
like the water is my water and I am dying.
Then I am crying real salt tears
into the real fresh water
and I think of the tree you cut down
and how it cried real maple tears
and surrendered.
“No, ” I say. “We’re here.”
poem by Shaye Anderson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Salt is a preservative. It really holds flavor. For example, if you chop up some fresh herbs, or even just garlic, the salt will extract the moisture and preserve the flavor.
quote by Sally Schneider
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Do not teach a pike to swim, a pike knows his own science.
A Call II
...details, inc, inc, inc, secreterces, ink, ink, ink, sweet quatros, dieci, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine. Ocho. Ochoa, neves, neves, neves, sex sank for three, two, one, fire, fire, water, water, running away, water running forever. Hiss of piss in the trolls' bowl. Baggottfaggott, baggotfaggott. Groans of sons in the crones bones. Piper, pipe us a tune, tuneful and sweet, like herring, herring, running away. Drone, drone of the moatboat. Fire, fire everywhere, eatrat, eat and a beer. Eat, overspilling and sweet, like herring, herring, running awayawa, poob, poob. A ship, a deck, a hull, a hold, a fire, fire everywhere. Don'tsmoke, don'tsmoke. Will, wool, well, wail, Ariadne's string, string running forever, ink, ink, ink, hyebye, hyebye. Oh, oh, oh, oh, that's nothing, nothing running away forever, awayawa. Zood, zood, owns, parknap, parknap, ereh, ereh, ARTIVEL, for, three, three, two, won: fire! A lion. A roar. A shriek. A chill. WILLIE-WILLIE! i
poem by Robert Dickerson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
3. Smaller Class Sizes
Wally the whale wanted learning
With herring he went to their school
He soon had to stand in the corner
For breaking a brand new school rule
The teacher asked why he had gone there
He should be at home with his pod
Not here at a school for small herring
And why had he not tried the cod
Wally said he was an orphan
He’d tried cod but they were so cruel
A young killer whale like our Wally
Just needed a small tasty school
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It Is Fresh If Kept, Cool
It is fresh if kept,
Away from that which spoils...
Those attitudes,
Quicken to darken by a mood.
It's fresh if kept,
Together without salt.
And a peppered tongue,
Spiced with words from a mouth to come out!
It is fresh if kept,
Away from evil people.
A mind that finds,
A peace inside...
Found from nine to five!
And from...
Five to nine!
It's fresh if kept,
Cool.
It is fresh if kept,
Away from fools.
It's fresh if kept,
Cool.
It is fresh if kept,
Away from fools.
It is fresh if kept,
Away from evil people.
A mind that finds,
A peace inside...
Found from nine to five!
And...
Five to nine!
Evil will have those you love dearly,
Convinced...
You are not who you are!
It is fresh if kept,
Away from that which spoils...
Those attitudes,
Quicken to darken by a mood.
It's fresh if kept,
Cool.
It is fresh if kept,
Away from fools.
It's fresh if kept,
Cool.
It is fresh if kept,
Away from fools.
Choose not to be annoyed.
It is fresh if kept,
Cool.
It is fresh if kept,
Away from fools.
It's fresh if kept,
Cool.
It is fresh if kept,
Away from fools.
Choose not to be annoyed.
Choose not to be destroyed.
Keep your mind kept fresh.
Choose not to be annoyed.
Choose not to be destroyed.
It is fresh if kept,
Cool.
Choose not to be annoyed.
Choose not to be destroyed.
Keep your mind kept fresh,
And cool.
Keep your mind kept fresh.
And away from fools.
Keep your mind kept fresh,
And cool.
It's best not to be annoyed.
It's best not to be destroyed!
Evil will have those you love dearly,
Convinced...
You are not who you are!
It is best to keep cool.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Myrtle Beach
Myrtle Beach in South Carolina,
There i met you consulting the oracles of love!
But to find out about your spiritual needs was my mission;
And like the salt on the table of love.
Sale, bale, tale, vale, dale, kale, male, pale;
And like your summer vacation at Myrtle Beach!
But i saw an empty beer bottle on your table.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tast malt
Salt is
more in food
Asalt the food...
Salt is
Low in food
Tung out...!
Salt is salt
Tasty malt...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Talent in cheaper than table salt. What separates the talented individual from the successful one is a lot of hard work.
quote by Stephen King
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Market Women’s Cries
APPLES
COME buy my fine wares,
Plums, apples and pears.
A hundred a penny,
In conscience too many:
Come, will you have any?
My children are seven,
I wish them in Heaven;
My husband ’s a sot,
With his pipe and his pot,
Not a farthen will gain them,
And I must maintain them.
ONIONS
Come, follow me by the smell,
Here are delicate onions to sell;
I promise to use you well.
They make the blood warmer,
You’ll feed like a farmer;
For this is every cook’s opinion,
No savoury dish without an onion;
But, lest your kissing should be spoiled,
Your onions must be thoroughly boiled:
Or else you may spare
Your mistress a share,
The secret will never be known:
She cannot discover
The breath of her lover,
But think it as sweet as her own.
HERRINGS
Be not sparing,
Leave off swearing.
Buy my herring
Fresh from Malahide,
Better never was tried.
Come, eat them with pure fresh butter and mustard,
Their bellies are soft, and as white as a custard.
Come, sixpence a dozen, to get me some bread,
Or, like my own herrings, I soon shall be dead.
poem by Jonathan Swift
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Cups And Rocks
Cloistered cups riot the table of delight,
Chunks of food line the plates so easy;
Cloudy was the water of the day and night,
Depressed by too clean a measure.
Closed was the shop of delights that entertained
The populace of a feverish town, devilish and decided;
Close those rocks so heavy in salt for the sea,
The rocky ends were on food and drink from the sea.
Tables of salt gathered from the wailing sea
Conquer our designs offered on platters;
Children make colourful menaces,
Adults derive laws according to Nature.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Moods
Oh that a Song would sing itself to me
Out of the heart of Nature, or the heart
Of man, the child of Nature, not of Art,
Fresh as the morning, salt as the salt sea,
With just enough of bitterness to be
A medicine to this sluggish mood, and start
The life-blood in my veins, and so impart
Healing and help in this dull lethargy!
Alas! not always doth the breath of song
Breathe on us. It is like the wind that bloweth
At its own will, not ours, nor tarrieth long;
We hear the sound thereof, but no man knoweth
From whence it comes, so sudden and swift and strong,
Nor whither in its wayward course it goeth.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Living Word!
Love and peace,
Sodium Bicarbonate and the Living Word!
And like the common table salt in our rooms,
But you are now under pressure! !
Because of the coming feast.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fresh Air Waltz
Looking at you now, you seem just a shadow
You had the energy to recharge our batteries
I suppose your success became your security
Darkness is not what you need
You were the one who refused to give up
You were the one who lifted us, lifted us off our knees
Now its our turn to give you some help
Fresh air thats just what you need
Not the stale bread from the failing bitter table
Its so hard
Wheres the justice we cry
Its there and will follow us til the day we die, til
The day that we die
Looking at you know, you seem just a shadow
You had the energy and you recharged our batteries
Now its our turn to give you some help
Fresh air thats just what you need
Now its our turn to give you some help
Fresh air thats just what you need
Thats just what you need
song performed by by Howard Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Fast Food for Thought
The salt is salty
the pepper is peppery
the fish is fishy
the butter buttery
dont bother to ask how
the table was made
just know that it's set
now shut up
give thanks
and eat your meal
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Cold Day
I am from another tribe and country,
But you are welcome to my home my sweet one;
For i do hear the sounds of the guns and,
I don't know what it means.
Down came the storm without a clue,
And of your life in the cold without help;
For the salt of the sea has frozen your breasts.
This is like a welcome guest,
And of the tears of salt from your eyes;
But this day is very cold and,
I am her to care for you.
A cold day and of the muse of your love,
Why waste the food on the table?
For the children played and made merry,
And like the old love tune for my fair lady.
Fair and sweet,
A cold day is all that it takes today and to save you;
And of the young girl who is mused beside the well,
But you've deeply buried your eyes on this issue.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Salt
Early this morning
his mother asked his father
for some money
to buy salt.
But,
his father refused
and hit his mother
who did so much talking.
The boy
went out the house
and headed
to the market.
There,
he begged the salt vendors
for a little salt
but the vendors only told him,
'go home boy, and get some money! '
Now the boy
is running
with a bag of salt in his arms
and the people are screaming
THIEF! THIEF! THIEF!
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!