He gives him roast meat and beats him with the spit.
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A cat that licks the spit is not to be trusted with roast meat.
Spit It Out
If theres rage inside you so you cannot think
Spit it out
If you get so angry that you cannot speak
Spit it out
Talk to him or her or it
And tell them where they can put it
Spit it out, spit it out
You got to talk to him or her or it
And take aim with your mouth and spit
Spit it out, spit it out
If you get worked over at your job
Spit it out
If a taxi almost runs you down
Spit it out
You got to take aim with your mouth and speak
And give it to them right between the teeth
Spit it out, spit it out
Talk to him or her or it
And take aim with your mouth and spit
Spit it out, spit it out
Spit it out
Hey, hey, hey
If youre patient and you have the time
Spit it out
Wait till theyre on the decline
Spit it out
The chinese say you meet the hard with the soft
The yin with the yang, the down with the up, oh
Spit it out, spit it out
You got to grab that dumb he, she or it
And give it to them right between the teeth
Spit it out, spit it out
Spit it out, babe, spit it out
Hey
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Govern a country as you would roast a crocodile on a spit.
The Pan Of Sorrows
I will give you the grain of tears,
Roast my sorrows in your pan,
O, tender of the fire.
Tender of the fire, branch of magnolia,
Roast my sorrows in your pan.
I am late already,
The shadows are fading,
The cattle have returned,
From the forest.
The birds have raised their clamor.
Roast my sorrows in your pan,
Tender of the fire.
Hurry, be quick,
I have far to go,
To the place
Where my companions have gone.
I have heard the road to that town is difficult
Roast my sorrows in your pan.
Tender of the fire.
When my turn comes,
Your bale of kindling is damp.
Why has your earthen pan
Become flaccid?
What has gone wrong with your fire?
Roast my sorrows in your pan.
Tender of the fire.
Mine is just a handful of grains,
Roast them, and let me go on my way,
Don't leave them raw,
Roast them well.
I beg you, bring an end to this wrangling,
Roast my sorrows in your pan.
Tender of the fire.
The wind has dropped,
Its mournful weeping ended.
A sweet heat
Is rising in the stars.
My breaths are like a marriage procession
Whose bridegroom is displeased.
Roast my sorrows in your pan.
O tender of the fire.
Tender of the fire, branch of magnolia,
Roast my sorrows in your pan.
poem by Shiv Kumar Batalvi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You can't fare well, but you must cry roast meat.
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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Dry bread at home is better than roast meat abroad.
Spit It Out
(coverdale/galley)
I never knew what a kiss could mean
Until the first time I kissed you,
You took my love in the palm of your hand
An showed me what a woman could do
Now I dont want sugar coated loving
Just silver tongue tenderness,
You gotta give me a certain satisfaction
The kind of love you seal with a kiss
An spit it out, spit it out, spit it out
If you dont like it
Spit it out, spit it out, spit it out
If you dont like it
I can remember, I can recall
When I first set my eyes on you,
Ill never forget the thrill of it all
Dreaming of the things we could do
Baby, you must be crazy,
Fooling with a man like me,
cos I roll my dice with a heart of ice
An make it clear to see
Spit it out, spit it out, spit it out
If you dont like it
Spit it out, spit it out, spit it out
If you dont like it
I never knew what a kiss could mean
til the first time I kissed you,
You took my love in the palm of your hand
An showed me what a woman could do
Your sweet caress an tenderness
Can take the pain away,
The things that you do make a queen out of you
An make me a king for a day
If you dont like it, spit it out
Now I know what your love can do
Ill be hanging round your door,
An Im gonna love you baby,
Ill give you more than you bargained for
Spit it out, spit it out, spit it out
If you dont like it
Spit it out, spit it out, spit it out
If you dont like it
Spit it out, if you dont like it...
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A hot dog at the game beats roast beef at the Ritz.
quote by Humphrey Bogart
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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Time
Times a teacher yesterday
You know I had nothing but time
Whyd you have to go away
I never got to tell you goodbye
And time beats up on me
Life is funny, life is strange
You know Im just trying to get by
Money, honey, buys you things
It cant buy a place in the sky
And time beats up on you
Another year disappeared
Where did it go?
People ask me
Whats the time
I really dont know
I really dont know
I really dont
I really dont know
And time beats up on you
And time beats up on you
Time beats up on
Time beats up on
Time beats up on
Time beats up on
Time beats up on me
Beats up on you
Beats up on you
song performed by by Fastball
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Pig Went to Market
This pig went to market,
That pig staid at home;
This pig had roast meat,
That pig had none;
This pig went to the barn-door,
And cry'd week, week, for more.
poem by Anonymous English
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mutton
Gently stir and blow the fire,
Lay the mutton down to roast,
Dress it quickly, I desire,
In the dripping put a toast,
That I hunger may remove --
Mutton is the meat I love.
On the dresser see it lie;
Oh, the charming white and red;
Finer meat ne'er met the eye,
On the sweetest grass it fed:
Let the jack go swiftly round,
Let me have it nice and brown'd.
On the table spread the cloth,
Let the knives be sharp and clean,
Pickles get and salad both,
Let them each be fresh and green.
With small beer, good ale and wine,
Oh ye gods! how I shall dine.
poem by Jonathan Swift
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This heart beats
This heart beats,
only cause of you
This heart beats,
just to know its true
This heart beats,
like a love i cant control
This heart beats,
to let everybody know
This heart beats,
when i see your smile
This heart beats,
just before i dial
This heart beats,
i hope you feel the same
This heart beats,
cause my heart is where i write your name
poem by Anonymous One
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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spit to God
how foolish of you
to spit to God
who lives in the sky
the spit returns
back to you
who lives on
earth below
and you smell
as foul as your
own dried spittle.
spit to God &
you spit on your face.
as you hate me
shall you hate yourself
you get hurt so badly
and i am so sorry.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spittoon
Spitting in any form is bad
Spitfire is dangerous
Spit destroy everything.
Spitting cobra spray venom
Unbalanced man spit emotion
Scorn fear condemnation.
Spitupon is not civilised
Spit it out left manything.
Here is spittoon
If you want to be good
throw out everything spit
In this spittoon
And get a bonbon
And get a boon.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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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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Spit It Out
Back then my life was empty
Most things around disturbed me
Messed-up and really restless
My head was filled with distless
Until the day you saved me
You made me see things clearly
Nothing is ever hopeless
Got to know how to love myself
You made me love you, me and life
(chorus:) Go ahead, spit it out, go ahead,
go ahead, spit it out
That I am stupid
Go ahead, spit it out, go ahead,
go ahead, spit it out
That I was mistaken
Go ahead, spit it out, go ahead,
go ahead, spit it out
That I missed my chances
Go ahead, spit it out, go ahead,
go ahead, spit it out
That I cannot fix it
Right now I grab my head and
Look back at what I have done
I've been a total fool
Can find no explanation
One day I could not take it
Guess things were just too perfect
So I took my stuff and left you
Though I will always love you
Thought you saved me I still left you
(chorus)
song performed by by Vanilla Ninja
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Neighbours you would like to miss
I
The type of whites that camp out
on the sidewalk
frying their barbeque just there
with chops and sausage grilling,
enough for a huge feast,
talking loudly in order to inform
the whole neighbourhood
what they are saying
and with heavy beat music playing, partying
and dancing to early morning light
while their kindergarten kids
are pushing carts up and down
in the street, getting every
dog to bark all night long.
II
A bull of a black man
almost gigantic in size
who uses his pickup
to unload a huge black ox
in his back yard
and then slaughtering the thing
just there with it bellowing
to invite his ancestor ghosts to visit
the neighbourhood and his garden
while a witchdoctor is dancing
around the beast, singing and beating a drum
and then he tries to spit roast it
on a huge fire burning all the meat and inviting a squadron
of minibus taxi drivers to a feast of uneatable charcoal.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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