Did hogs feed here or did Lithuanians have a feast here?
Related quotes
Consider It Done
Consider it done.
Done.
Done.
Done.
Consider it done.
Done.
Done.
Done.
Consider it done.
Done.
Done.
Done.
Consider it done.
Consider it done.
Getting near a fiscal cliff,
And knowing of it.
But...
ignoring all the warnings,
Or it there to exist...
To feed an addiction to greed,
Regardless of the risks.
Well...
Consider it done.
Your feeding.
Done.
And with a greeding.
Done.
Consider it done.
Done.
Done.
Done.
Consider it done.
The feast.
Consider it done.
That feast depleted,
With a wish for more to eat...
Is done!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Feast or Famine
Neither feast nor famine
should show its fickle face.
The wine for some
and for most just a trace.
A few bitter drops of bitter liquid
lapped up by their thirst
and why?
Because others must come first?
And who decides this unfair thing?
Must not be the one whose praises we sing.
And who shall stop this unfair thing?
Must not be any that call themselves King.
Neither feast nor famine
should ever be allowed.
And those that feast should hunger
and feed the starving crowd.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Needs Of All People
If the needs of all people,
Had with persistence been a promise met...
To reflect a sincerity and prioritized as kept,
There would be no homelessness or hunger to regret.
Yet...
The needs of all people,
Were ignored to feed a few their greed.
Leaving those same greedy people,
To panic and cause havoc...
With a doing done selfishly.
And realizing the feast they have fed,
Has from them fled permanently!
With no one perceiving they deserve sympathy.
'Excuse us those who weep.
But we have arrived to feed the needs of those meek,
And faithfully loyal to all humanity.'
~But...
What about 'us'? ~
'We believe and can see,
You have isolated yourselves enough.
And in our way you can not stay.
Your version of life has been too corrupted.
What on Earth did you think?
You were chosen to forever,
Feast, wine and drink.
To leave the others on the brink?
Get out of our way.
We are not moved by your tears.
Nor should anyone fear...
The uselessness of your senseless weapons.
Get out of our way.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lydia Puckett
Knowlt Hoheimer ran away to the war
The day before Curl Trenary
Swore out a warrant through Justice Arnett
For stealing hogs.
But that's not the reason he turned a soldier.
He caught me running with Lucius Atherton.
We quarreled and I told him never again
To cross my path.
Then he stole the hogs and went to the war --
Back of every soldier is a woman.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Getting Away With It
Like an appendage attached.
And there to feed.
Not to assist in the nourishment.
Or to restore an energy,
Supplied by encouragement.
But there to defend,
The protectiveness of this leeching.
Like an appendage attached.
And there to feed an excessive gluttony,
Of progressive greed.
Draining to succeed to bleed an obsession.
To feast!
Whether or not...
The programming of this beast is stopped!
Conditioned,
To getting away with it!
And delusioned...
Never to be prevented.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Curly Locks
_Curly Locks! Curly Locks! wilt thou be mine?
Thou shalt not wash the dishes, nor yet feed the swine,--
But sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam,
And feast upon strawberries, sugar and cream._
Curly Locks! Curly Locks! wilt thou be mine?
The throb of my heart is in every line,
And the pulse of a passion as airy and glad
In its musical beat as the little Prince had!
Thou shalt not wash the dishes, nor yet feed the swine!--
O I'll dapple thy hands with these kisses of mine
Till the pink of the nail of each finger shall be
As a little pet blush in full blossom for me.
But sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam,
And thou shalt have fabric as fair as a dream,--
The red of my veins, and the white of my love,
And the gold of my joy for the braiding thereof.
And feast upon strawberries, sugar and cream
From a service of silver, with jewels agleam,--
At thy feet will I bide, at thy beck will I rise,
And twinkle my soul in the night of thine eyes!
_Curly Locks! Curly Locks! wilt thou be mine?
Thou shalt not wash the dishes, nor yet feed the swine.--
But sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam,
And feast upon strawberries, sugar and cream._
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Hate
You build me up and then you break me down and build me again
Emotions weaken
My blood is filled with lust knowing someone is wanting to kill me
We all go someday
I get so much more from this than you do (than you do)
I get so much more from this than you (than you)
Haaaate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna free your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna feed your...
Come on get up!
Come on get up!
Come on get up!
There must be someway I can better my health to save me
From all the bad things that feel so good
You must be joking, you dont even know a thing about it
It's what you understood
I get so much more from this than you do (than you do)
I get so much more from this than you (than you)
Haaaate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna free your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna free your...
Come on get up!
Come on get up!
Come on get up!
I get so much more from this than you do (than you do)
I get so much more from this than you (than you)
Haaaate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna free your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna free your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna free your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna feed your...
song performed by by Zug Izland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If You Feed It Good
If you feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes.
And,
If you feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes,
Feed it good...
And it stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
I'm not gonna mock you anymore,
'Cause you're good to me.
You don't have to knock,
On that unlocked door.
No more...
I'll rock your needs
When we get it heated! .
Now,
If you feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes,
Feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes,
Just feed it good...
And it stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Don't shout or scream,
To be mean and demean.
I'm not your enemy.
Nor do I owe a thing....
To ya!
You can pout with a frown,
Thinking it will bring me down.
To be around...
For your clown count!
To the ground.
But,
If you feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes,
Feed it real good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Just,
Feed it good...
And it stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Keep that in your head,
And let it feed real good!
Like it should.
Feed it good.
Keep that in your head,
And let it feed real good!
Like it should.
Feed it good.
Yes,
Feed it real good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
And,
Keep that in your head,
And let it feed real good!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Are Demons Needing To Feed
Demons needing to feed on negativity,
Eventually devour themselves.
With the hopes that the doing of it,
Will attract those who come to empathize...
In a sacrifice that devotes the giving of their lives,
As an unconscious act that snaps backs...
For snacks to crack while munching on their missions,
To rid any sign of peace!
There are demons needing to feed,
On the presence of harmony.
They are demons seeking a need,
To lust on those sufferers...
Aiming to please the greeding of beasts.
Feeding their cravings as if at a feast.
They're demons seeking a need,
To lust on those sufferers...
Aiming to please the greeding of beasts.
Feeding their cravings as if at a feast,
To rid any sign of peace...
Wherever presented.
Demons needing to feed on negativity,
Eventually devour themselves.
With the hopes that the doing of it,
Will attract those who come to empathize...
In a sacrifice that devotes,
The giving...
Of their lives.
To follow and to be devoured.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Man is the deadly pest
Viruses feed on man;
Fungi feed on man;
Worms and flies feed on
Those that man feed on.
He calls them all pests.
Isn’t he a major pest
To the animals and plants?
28.01.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Marketing Plan
There is no space to move. There is no choice
To be made, barricaded in the billboard
Clusters that cloister the singular voice
As it combats a hungry, zombified hoard.
They'll deafen you with their chorusing moans
As they bind your body to brand-name chains.
Then they'll cleave your muscles off of your bone
And scrape the dried flakes of blood from your veins.
The ravenous urge that drives them is a
Thirst for never-ceasing satiation,
An unquenchable to need to feed on prey
That long for freedom and deviation.
They'll devour each other too 'fore they dine—
Feast on their own int'rests to feast on mine.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Feed On Me
They are dying on the dance floor
They are lying in debris
They are fading with exhaustion
From the mortal injuries
They are hungry and need feeding
They've resigned themselves to fate
They are desperate men
Death's written on their face
When your will to live
Is all but gone
And you're left alone
But you need someone - feed on me
Feed on me
They're outgunned and they're outnumbered
But they'll never turn to run
And the 'in name of freedom's'
Written with their blood
Some would call them mercenary
But they always knew the pain
Inevitably far outweighs the gain
Feed on me
Feed on me if you need to breath
Feed on me
When your hunger strikes you down again
And you feel your inner strength has drained - Feed on me
Feed on me
Feed on me - I got what you need
Feed on me
Feed on me - don't accept defeat
They aredying on the dance floor
They are lying in debris
They are fading with exhaustion
From the mortal injuries
Some would call them mercenary
But they always knew the pain
Enevitably far outweighs the gain
When your will to live has almost gone
And you're left alone and you need someone
Feed on me
Feed on me
Feed on me
Feed on me - I got what you need
Feed on me
Feed on me - don't accept defeat
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Doubting Thomas
For years I've fed this feral cat at 4 a.m.,
a crouching mound of fur, Satanic black, with yellow eyes
that never blink. I call him 'Doubting Thomas.'
I place his can of Fancy Feast five feet or so from him.
He doesn't stir till I go in the house
and douse the porch light.
Then he leaps and cleans the can
and saunters off till 4 a.m. the following morning
when he's back again, eyes ablaze, crouching.
This pact I have with Doubting Thomas
helps me realize how God must feel
eons after the Big Bang.
Some folks, you see, aren't certain God lit that match.
Some believe the Big Bang just happened.
Out of nothing they believe something came to be.
I think the cat I feed at 4 a.m. agrees with them.
I'm sure he'd tell you Fancy Feast always was,
always will be and always will remain the same.
I wonder what that cat will do the day I die
when he arrives at 4 a.m. and finds the can
from yesterday empty where he left it.
There's no mystery as to what he'll do.
He'll find another porch like mine where every morning
without a bang Fancy Feast just happens.
poem by Donal Mahoney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Feed The Monkey
She likes to feed the monkey
She likes to feed the monkey
She likes to feed the monkey
She likes the monkey
Well gather 'round and let me tell you all a story
About a boy and his monkey
He's got that kind of monkey that the girls wanna know
He likes to take his monkey every place that he goes
(Can we pet your monkey?)
Hey, ho, you see the monkey?
Did you know you made my monkey hungry?
I didn't really know how it get so hungry
I'd like to know
Would you feed the monkey?
Well you can pet my monkey
'Cause my monkey don't bite
But when you pet my monkey
He get funky all night
My monkey ain't no ordinary orangutang
'Cause my monkey likes to do the wild thing
My monkey don't scratch
My monkey don't bite
My monkey don't swing no tree
My monkey don't hit
My monkey don't drool
My monkey be swing with me
My monkey don't freak
My monkey don't trip
My monkey don't wear no cape
But you can tell what my monkey wanna eat
'Cause it turn into a big ol' ape
Yeah...
Hey..
The monkey's getting hungry
Hey, hey, why don't you feed your monkey?
(REPEAT x 3)
What she want?
She wants the monkey
(REPEAT x 3)
You know she want
You know she want
You know she wants the monkey
(REPEAT x 3)
Hey, hey, she likes to feed the monkey
Ooh, she's sayin' it's time to feed the monkey
Everyday she wants to feed the monkey
All through the day she likes to feed the monkey
She likes to feed the monkey
(REPEAT x 7)
Feed the monkey
(REPEAT x 19)
She likes to feed the monkey
song performed by by Infectious Grooves
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To have a feel of my food
To have the feel of my food not just the taste of it in my tongue
I use my bare hands, the rice I fold between my palms the fish
I touch with my fingers, and then my mouth opens to swallow and savor
Just like you tonight, I feel you with my bare hands I taste you
With my tongue because you are the food of my soul and my soul
Feeds on you as you also feed on mine
We are bare all over, not just our bare hands
We touch we feel we lick we breath with our noses
On our skins, we feed on our flesh, we go deeper
Into our souls, our eyes feast on the food we lay in front of us
The lights of our eyes open in our room the festivity to a beginning
We feed on ourselves we are hungry & greedy & we are never full
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Tenant of Mrs. Van Kleeck
Translation of a letter from a tenant of Mrs. Van Kleeck to that lady, dated January 9, 1787
My very good landlady, Mistress Van Kleeck,
(For the tears that o'erwhelm me I scarcely can speak)
I know that I promis'd you hogs two or three
(But who knows his destiny? Certain not me!)
That I promis'd three hogs I don't mean to deny
(I can prove that I had five or six upon sty.)
Three hogs did I say? Three sows I say then
'Pon honour I ne'er had a male upon pen.
Well Madam, the long and the short of the clatter
For mumbling & mincing will not better the matter;
And murder and truth, my dear mammy wd say
By some means or other forever saw day;
And Daddy himself, as we chop'd in the wood,
Would often observe that lying wasn't good.
Tell truth, my sweet fellow, no matter who feels it,
It ne'er can do hurt to the man who reveals it.
But stop! While my Daddy and Mammy's the subject
I am running aside the original object --
The sows, my sweet madam, the sows I repeat,
Which you and your household expected to eat,
Instead of attending their corn and their swill
Gave way to an ugly he-sow's wicked will.
When 'twill end your good ladyship need not be told,
For Nature is still as she hath been of old,
And when he cries YES mortal may not cry NO -
So Madam, farewell, with my holliday bow.
poem by Major Henry Livingston Jr.
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Crows for Konstantin
Crows.
The noise of conflict dies away.
Those left alive will now depart.
Only the dead allowed to stay,
they have no further part to play.
The warring sides in full retreat
The crows tonight dine on fresh meat.
Though neither side claims victory.
The crows will feast quite happily.
Since man first slew another man.
It seems to be Dame Natures plan.
The crows will feast on the remains
The scavengers alone will gain.
While warring sides must count the cost
of fighting men that they have lost.
Perhaps one day we’ll realise
In war there are no victories.
Bar for the crows who do not fight
but satisfy their appetite.
On those who do who in their view
Choose to fight. they don’t need to.
Although in death they feed the crows.
I don’t suppose the crows oppose.
The idea that men come to blows.
Nor do they care I must suppose.
The only winners are the crows
who feast until they’re comatose.
On what is left of those who chose
to risk their lives exchanging blows.
Sunday,09 May 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Feast To Eat And Enjoy
Feast!
So delicious are these offerings,
For only you prepared.
Feast and eat.
Until your heart is contented.
Relax.
And take the weight off your feet.
Unbridled and free,
From each and every discourse presented.
Whether disguised in debated argument or not,
To undermine your dining done.
With purposes to have that stopped.
Feast!
So delicious are these offerings,
For only you prepared.
Be daring and selective,
As it is your wish to nourish...
Upon that which feeds your encouragement.
Feast to eat and enjoy.
Nothing tasted to you presented,
Has been created to disappoint, displease...
Or leave you to become agitated or annoyed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Wedding Feast
Brother dear brother,I came as quickly as I could
The Digital Haze is broken,The Banished Ones r gone 4 good, gone 4 good"
Now there must b a wedding/Now there must b a feast
A feast, a feast/A smorgasbord at least
A brunch, a munch/Of cake if just a piece
Not just a vat of chitlins/Or turkey meat u c
We r what we eat/So we must eat a leaf
We'll dine under a tree/Unless it snows!
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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