He who doesn't clean his mouth before breakfast always complains that the food is sour.
Related quotes
Monkey Principle
Monkey always says
Your food is not your food
In your plate
Until you hold it
In your hand
Your food is not your food
In your hand
Until you put it
In your mouth
Your food is not your food
In your mouth
Until you swallow it
Because anything can
Knock your mouth
And you spit it out
poem by David Aoloch Bion
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My life right now is, I wouldn't say reduced to food, but my duties in life are that I wake up, cook breakfast, clean the dishes, prepare lunch, clean those dishes, go to the market, get fresh produce, cook dinner, clean those dishes and then sleep if I can. And I love it. I actually adore it.
quote by Heath Ledger
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Little Comfortable
The prepared bed
The warm food
The fresh cloth
Man sometimes doesn’t realize
There’s a ‘dwarf’ that helps in daily life
The tidy room
The clean toilet
The washed dishes
Man sometimes doesn’t remember
There’s a ‘dwarf’ that makes those comfort
The welcome greet
The opened door
The safe night
Man sometimes doesn’t appreciate
There’s a ‘dwarf’ that keeps in watch
The quiet listener
The secret keeper
The pathfinder
Man sometimes doesn’t regard
There’s a ‘dwarf’ that gives those comfort
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Hunger, The Pang
Our mother earth gives
For one good grain sown
Hundreds of fresh grains
For our food in return.
How many sweet fruits
For a life time she gives
For one seed she takes
As one tree it grows?
Any animal on the land
Or any bird on the air
For its morrow's food
Does it take all the care?
For the food on the ground
How a crow makes a sound
Of 'caw' to call crows around
Just to share what it found?
When big cooked rice balls
An elephant in its mouth takes
A part of it on the floor spills
That feeds hundreds of ants.
But when a have on this earth
For his self, the food he hoards,
Doesn't the have-not's mouth
Go unfed for days countless?
The food in a pompous feast
A junk of it goes as rubbish.
If this goes to the poor atleast
Will that not fulfill God's wish?
The worst pain in the world
Is what the hunger gives
But this can be solved
If all follow the crows.
poem by Rajaram Ramachandran
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Overweight with Food
Are you just a tub of lard and
Vastly overweight?
Do you think that when you die you'll
Need a piano crate
To act as coffin for your frame? -
Chosen as you die in shame, with
Only you to take the blame
For years of eating much the same:
A daily calorific fest
Gourmands of your ilk digest!
Is your heart in final fling and
Nearly set to burst?
Are your arteries bunged and clogged and
Feeling now the worst
For wear? - your aneurysm fit to blow
While blood as thick as rising dough
Cries 'Halt! ' to any hope of flow:
A dreadful state to put on show
In front of any nurse!
Best you hail a hearse.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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We Cry for Food and They Give Us Bullets
Food! Food! Food!
It is all that we need
It is all that we need
to calm down our spirits!
It is food that fills
that fills the empty pangs
of our stomachs,
pangs that make us yawn
but cannot sleep
that make us gulp
but cannot vomit,
that make our saliva
taste sour and acidic!
We cry for food
like the helpless little children
with the art to attract attention
by our street demonstrations.
Yes, we cry for food like little children
to calm down our spirits,
that the cry cannot at all be neglected
for it is food,
it is food that soothes our spirits.
But you give us bullets
on the streets where we stage
our cry for food
You give us bullets
instead of food.
But even bullets cannot silence
our cry for food
for as long as we`re hungry
we shall be like little children
that will ever cry for food.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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The Emptiness That Eats Poems, And Yet Still Hungry
(my) emptiness is greedy
it eats as breakfast
five to six poems in a day
it will require more for
lunch and
an unspecified number for
dinner
when midnight comes
it complains
it is still hungry.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Syrup Sponge
Pour a pint of cream
Upon my spongy bulge!
Scoop me with a
Hefty spoon;
Taste my essence -
Do you swoon?
Feed your self-esteem; indulge
In me until you burst -
Death by syrup sponge - you're cursed!
And as the count in inches gain
Upon your weary waist, the strain
Will tell, but you'll not care -
Steeped in sponge, you're unaware!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food
food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Clean
Eat clean,
Live clean,
Sleep clean,
dress clean,
Walk clean,
Learn clean,
Play clean,
Think clean,
dance clean,
Talk clean,
Sing clean,
work clean,
Because the world around you is watching what you do;
You are the only one on this earth,
So live and let us live too.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Put A Smile On Your Face
Put
A
Smile
On
Your
Face
Every
Day
And
Be
Grateful
For
The
Food
That
You
Are
About
To
Eat
In
The
Morning
For
Breakfast
Be cause
We
Take
Our
Food
For
Gran ted
poem by Aldo Kraas
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an unhappy childhood of this man who names himself 'I'.....
i've seen this picture of you
on that far corner of the world
land of snow and you are inside that very thick
winter clothes
there is that smile in your face
and i am taking a closer look
it is sour.
i know what sour is. I've been one for forty years
wearing that
sour smile, and i have many reasons why a smile must be sour
for forty years
the reasons are sour
very sour
beyond those tastes of a hundred green lemons
or a green mango with some disturbing gums on its mouth
i burned all my pictures in college
except those when i was yet a boy beside my mama and our white dog
i was in grade one and i did not like school and mama forced me into it
i was selling chocolates and i ate them all and mama was mad at me and beat me with a stick
papa did not like me reading books as he does not know how to read
i climb trees and hide on the leaves and read stories
in our dialect and draw some pictures of women without their dresses on
you see i still have this picture of myself riding a carabao and hauling some wood and coconut palms
i take a close look of my own smile, It is very sour
and it tastes like yours, but perhaps mine is the worst
but i am happy now, i know how to suppress sour smiles, i know how to manage and project myself
i smile like a cow now, and laugh like a horse
because all of them are dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Food is My Friend
Food is my friend,
I eat it everyday.
When I'm all done,
I throw the trash away!
Food is really good;
I like chicken and pizza and fries.
I think that without it,
I just would not survive!
Food can be gross, too;
It stinks when it's gone bad.
But when it doesn't stink,
It actually tastes rad!
Food is the best;
I'm sad when it ends.
But all in all,
FOOD IS MY FRIEND! !
this was written by me and my brother
poem by Rebecca Ryan
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Salad is Incompatible with Life
Yes, my waist is fifty inches -
Big for me because I'm short.
And yes, I like my cheddar cheese
When partnered with a vintage port.
Okay, okay, that double cream
Is always served with pud,
And cake and biscuits with my tea
Are just no bloody good
For my poor hardened arteries,
But see my point of view,
Please dear wifey if you please,
A Salad makes me spew!
I'd rather eat a bowl of air
Than crunch away on greens;
Drink water from the toilet bowl
Or nibble on my jeans!
But salad! Are you there?
You know it makes me snappy -
So let me fill my face with grub,
Stay fat, and die young happy!
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Push
Go go go
Push him away
No no no
Don't let him stay
He gets inside to stare at her
The seeping mouth
The mouth that knows
The secret you
Always you
A smile to hide the fear away
Oh smear this man across the walls
Like strawberries and cream
Its the only way to be
Exactly the same clean room
Exactly the same clean bed
But i've stayed away too long this time
And i've got too big to fit this time...
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just because nobody complains doesn't mean all parachutes are perfect.
quote by Benny Hill
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Junk Food Junkie
Johnny's got an addiction
He's strung out without conviction
He was raised with a microwave
Sticky trashy fast food slave
He's a junk food junky
He could be a lot more spunky hunky
But he's a junk food junky
Blame it on the food yeah, you know it's bad
Mother doesn't really know
Shopping in a glossy show
Then again her budget's low
Her health so bad it makes her slow
She's a junk food junky
She's stressed and very jumpy
She's a junk food junky
Blame it on the food yeah, we know its bad
Blame it on the food yeah, we know it's bad
Jenny's in a fix
With her arithmetics
Poor concentration
Boys in the classroom cause agitation
She's a junk food junky
She could be a lot more fun
But she's a junk food junky
Blame it on the food yeah
Blame it on the food yeah
Blame it on the food yeah
You know it's bad
You know it's bad
B a d ! !
song performed by by X-Ray Spex
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Junk Food Junkie
Johnny's got an addiction
He's strung out without conviction
He was raised with a microwave
Sticky trashy fast food slave
He's a junk food junky
He could be a lot more spunky hunky
But he's a junk food junky
Blame it on the food yeah, you know it's bad
Mother doesn't really know
Shopping in a glossy show
Then again her budget's low
Her health so bad it makes her slow
She's a junk food junky
She's stressed and very jumpy
She's a junk food junky
Blame it on the food yeah, we know its bad
Blame it on the food yeah, we know it's bad
Jenny's in a fix
With her arithmetics
Poor concentration
Boys in the classroom cause agitation
She's a junk food junky
She could be a lot more fun
But she's a junk food junky
Blame it on the food yeah
Blame it on the food yeah
Blame it on the food yeah
You know it's bad
You know it's bad
B a d ! !
song performed by by X-Ray Spex
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just Because
Just because you did
Doesn't mean that you should
Just because you can
Doesn't mean that you could
Just because you are able
Doesn't mean you would
Just because you sat
Doesn't mean you should‘ve stood.
Just because you spoke
Doesn't mean that you thought
Just because you looked
Doesn't mean that you sought
Just because you argued
Doesn't mean that you fought
Just because you dreamed
Doesn't mean that you wished not.
Just because you cried
Doesn't mean that you wept
Just because you had
Doesn't mean that you kept
Just because you cleaned
Doesn't mean that you swept
Just because you said yes
Doesn't mean that you accept.
Just because you gathered
Doesn't mean that you own
Just because you gave up
Doesn't mean that you were alone
Just because you saw
Doesn't mean that you were shown
Just because you expiate
Doesn't mean you should atone.
Just because your old
Doesn't mean that you have flaws
Just because you won
Doesn't mean you have to applause
Just because you waited
Doesn't mean that you paused
Just because you were you
Doesn't mean anything, because.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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A man's first wife never complains of neglect from the penis, the first morsel never complains of insufficient sauce.
Madam and Her Madam
I worked for a woman,
She wasn't mean--
But she had a twelve-room
House to clean.
Had to get breakfast,
Dinner, and supper, too--
Then take care of her children
When I got through.
Wash, iron, and scrub,
Walk the dog around--
It was too much,
Nearly broke me down.
I said, Madam,
Can it be
You trying to make a
Pack-horse out of me?
She opened her mouth.
She cried, Oh, no!
You know, Alberta,
I love you so!
I said, Madam,
That may be true--
But I'll be dogged
If I love you!
poem by Langston Hughes
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