Cow dung can't be gathered where no cow has been.
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The Great Man Who Ate Cow Dung All His Life (secretly)
everyday
he feeds himself
with cow dung
but this is done
discreetly
for who in this
normal world
would like
to satisfy
himself with
dung
who in this
society would
love a man
who eats and
smells like
cow dung?
of course, he
feared
that soon if
society knows
he shall be
another ostracized
ostrich
electrically fenced
and monitored
and segregated
at Ward 8
for social
rehabilitation
he didn't like dung
reason and logic
so tell him well
but he couldn't resist
the smell of dung
even if it is kilometers
away
there is simply this
obsession for
cow dung
and he begins
to salivate even
for the word
dung
and for so many nights
he prayed
that his mind-set be
changed
so that he can prefer
steak
medium rare
than watery cow
dung
life has its own
idiosyncrasies for
he prefers dung
than barbecue
despite his
genius for good
food
and so
not to deprive
himself of what he
really loves
in his whole life
he eats cow dung
stores them in his
refrigerator
and eats cow dung
regularly
savoring every
fiber and enjoying
that rotten
sticky smell of
rotten grass
and leaves or
hay
how he wishes
that the shrink can
teach him to hate
dung
but this never
happened
he never referred
the matter
somehow
for fear of information
leaks
for modesty aside
he is
a great man
in his field of
endeavor
no one knows this
this is his secret
and i have known this
only about a year & a half
after he died
when i found his
black diary hidden
under the
old creaky bed
because it
smells dung
itself
in his
luxurious house
beside
a river
you know him
he is one of the greatest men
in our history
a philosopher
writer
philanthropist
scient ist
artist
sculptor
a genius
who ate cow dung
all his life
well adored by history
a hero for all humanity
the Renaissance man
as they dub him to be
the man who ate
and secretly loved cow
dung all this life
do not bother
let us keep his greatness
history is always right
do not argue
great men
revered the cow
ate cow dung
and become
famous
throughout the life
of history
their names
written in the pages of books
like sticky
piece of dung
but shits
unknown
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When You Dump Dung
When you,
Dump dung.
Do it in a place to be used.
With someone else who'll accept,
What you do.
As if...
You've got something that nourishes.
I said,
...
Do it in a place to be used.
With someone else who'll accept,
What you do.
As if...
You've got something that nourishes.
When you dump dung,
With a stinging that stuns...
It only closes up eyes.
It doesn't open up a mind,
To empathize...
The reason or the why for the doing.
When you dump dung,
With a stinging that stuns...
It only closes up eyes.
It doesn't open up a mind,
To empathize...
The reason or the why for the doing.
When you,
Dump dung.
Do it in a place to be used.
With someone else who'll accept,
What you do.
As if...
You've got something that nourishes.
I said,
When you dump dung...
Do it in a place to be used.
With someone else who'll accept,
What you do.
As if...
You've got something that nourishes.
When a dummy does a dung dumped.
Nobody stays around but runs to hide.
To leave before the spreading of the stench comes.
When you,
Dump dung.
Do it in a place to be used.
With someone else who'll accept,
What you do.
As if...
You've got something that nourishes.
When a dummy does a dung dumped.
Nobody stays around but runs to hide.
To leave before the spreading of the stench comes.
With a finding they've been brushed aside.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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As fair greits the bairn that is dung after noon, as he that is dung before noon.
Learning Zen is a phenomenon of gold and dung. Before you understand it, it's like gold; after you understand it, it's like dung.
Holy Spirit Divine Descend
Holy Spirit Divine descend
Come and take pre-eminence
Move in an unusual fashion
Like on the day of Pentecost
Descend Holy spirit Divine descend
We are gathered in your name
Together to sing your praises
To express our thankfulness
At your throne of Grace
We are gathered in your name
Together to make our supplication
And bring our burdens
To the throne of Grace
We are gathered in your name
Humbly requesting your blessing
Showers of divine blessings
From the throne of Grace
We are gathered in your name
Anxiously seeking your face
Believing to access favours
From your throne of Grace
We are gathered in your name
Honestly faithful in you
Trusting we shall be set freed
At your throne of Grace
We are gathered in your name
Keenly waiting on you
Hoping to renew our strength
At the throne of Grace
We are gathered in your name
Candidly unwavering in our trust
Convinced to be spiritually re-fueled
At the throne of Grace
poem by Emmanuel Oduro
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Chariots Of Fire
The small dung beetles lot is a chariot of fire
For some it is a life of a slinking liar,
To get a wife he has to be tall
Fact is some are dam too small.
To get among the hen pecking lot
The big fellow has an easy choice on the spot,
After a hard day’s work rolling up the dung
He’s off home to his wife for dinner and fun.
The little chap dines alone like a single sire
Now for fun he saddles up his chariot of fire,
He rides off to the big guys love nest without any din
Sneaks past him, up to the loft for his wages of sin.
The beetle chick loves him for his gallantry and guts
Gives him love and dung biscuits in his hand she puts,
On his chariot of fire He sneaks off into the night
Silent satisfied disappears out of sight.
NB. FACT
Scientists found this behaviour of the smaller
Beetles and when dissecting them found the
Smaller beetle had bigger testes.
poem by Ken e Hall
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Infatuation
There is infatuation in cat's mew
It is there in 'cock crowing its own dung hill'
It could be in the whole assembly of people
There There is infatuation in cat's mew
It is there in 'cock crowing its own dung hill'
It could be in the whole assembly of people
There is no place in fact for it to remain stand and still
The commotion of events and the burst of imagination
Did not confine itself into 'archer' of its fashion
If we take its linchpin from the womb of mother
You will not find its glory a bit farther
Its there from nascent of progenitors and race thereafter
Bowing in liturgy and forming into art and passion
That's what we call homo-sapien's passion
Which can go 'acclivity' into newness of fashion
poem by Hafiz Qasim
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Power
power has built itself
permanently on citadels
you, an ant, cannot take
the place of
their monuments,
look for wood, conspire
with the friendship of the
termites,
the timid worms,
live on dungs, and
begin the song of sorrow
time listens
the storm comes,
tsunamis multiply,
earthquakes, and
floods,
you, the ant, takes only a leaf
to survive,
a grain of rice
will be too much,
a dew for survival,
soon the citadels of power
crushes to the ground
including the king and queen
and their servants,
they all rot,
and you, the ant,
and termites long hiding
on rotten wood,
and worms surviving
on the humus of dung
shall build
for a beginning,
a hill, a path,
a throne of dung.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Corpses are more fit to be thrown out than is dung.
quote by Heraclitus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life is a dung pie from which you take a bite every day.
Wealth is but dung, useful only when spread about.
Why drive away fowls from the dung you do not eat yourself?.
A fool looks for dung where the cow never browsed.
He is fairest dung when his own wand dings him.
He's sairest dung that's paid wi' his ain wand.
Aquatic Melody
A melody as fluid as
the sea,
As far as the eye can
see.
A song that flows within the
waves
can calm our hearts and
give back our every save.
Everyone from far and wide
gather here at this very tide.
All the animals of both land and sea
have gathered here with you and
me.
All of us, even you and me, have
gathered here
to listen to
the aquatic melody.
poem by Casey Jarrell
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