He who eats when he is full digs his grave with his teeth.
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Glutton: one who digs his grave with his teeth.
A glutton is one who digs his grave with his teeth.
The youth and the old eat.
The lust of the youth has teeth
With which it bites and eats.
The lust of the old only laps and licks.
The stomachs of the both get full.
13.12.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rise Again
(instrumental intro)
Going to jamaica,
Warm and coral waters flow
There she goes
Sun kissed her body, in this magic feel love grow,
Love grows
Feel like letting go
Hey mr. saturday night
? ? right out the hole
It stops in a minute,
Its right down in it
Hey, were really back on a roll
I dont know why, I dont know why
Feel so good I could die, I could die
Great escape, Ill be there, by the skin of my teeth, on a wish and a prayer
With a head full of hammers, both feet in the grave, Im gonna stand Im gonna rise again
Dream time (lavinia? ? ),
Even though the odds are stacked, shes coming back
(moon monkeys barking? ) in a bitter chocolate glow,
There she goes, feel like letting go...
Hey, mr. cool jazz nights, let the fever go,
It stops in a minute, Im down in it
Hey, play it long and slow
I dont know why, I dont know why,
Feels so good I could die, I could die,
With a great escape, Ill be there, by the skin of my teeth on a wish and a prayer
With a head full of hammers, both feet in the grave, Im gonna stand Im gonna rise again
(instrumental)
With a great escape, Ill be there, by the skin of my teeth on a wish and a prayer
With a head full of hammers both feet in the grave, Im gonna stand Im gonna rise again
Ive been stricken, Ill be there, by the skin of my teeth on a wish and a prayer, and im
Not going down, both feet in the grave, Im gonna stand Im gonna rise again.
Dream time (lavinia? ? )
Feel like letting go.
(end!)
song performed by by Ufo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Emotional Food Chain
Anger eats Balanced
Balanced eats Confusion
Confusion eats Delight
Delight eats Exasperation
Exasperation eats Forgiveness
Forgiveness eats Grief
Grief eats Humor
Humor eats Isolation
Isolation eats Joy
Joy eats Knottiness
Knottiness eats Love
Love eats Moodiness
Moodiness eats Nicety
Nicety eats Outrage
Outrage eats Peace
Peace eats Quick-temperament
Quick-temperament eats Righteousness
Righteousness eats Stupidity
Stupidity eats Trust
Trust eats Unhappiness
Unhappiness eats Vitality
Vitality eats Weariness
Weariness eats X-citement
X-citement eats Yawn
Yawn eats Zest
Zest eats Anger
poem by Champs Ulysses Cabinatan
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He who digs someone else's grave shall fall in it himself.
Whoever finishes a revolution only halfway, digs his own grave.
quote by Georg Buchner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He that digs up a grave for his enemy, may be digging it for himself.
With Teeth
But she will not let you go
But this time Im not coming back
She will not let you go
But this time Im not coming back
Keeps holding on
She will not let you go
Keeps holding on and on
She will not let you go
No, no, no, no, no!
With teeth
With teeth
With teeth
With teeth
I cannot go through this again /x8
No, no, no, no, no!
With teeth
With teeth
With teeth
With teeth
Youve finally found the place where you belong
It comes on strong
She makes you hard
The rules have changed, the line begins to blur
To what you were
Wave goodbye
With teeth
With teeth
With teeth
With teeth
And it runs deeper than you dare to dream it could be
The black seal
She makes you better than anything youve tried
Its in her kiss
She comes along
She gets inside
song performed by by Nine Inch Nails
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dentist’s
Your mouth hurts inside for the pain comes from the teeth,
Pain is destructive to the teeth, its gums are bleeding;
Must we learn further help and admiration, or just weep?
First, the aching stops and then the dentist stops,
We all feel murdered, but why?
Firstly, mouths are meant for munching, fully chomping
The food residing in the head, feeding the brain as fast as it can;
We are not dentists, but full doctors, but full nurses,
As hospitals go, we stand firm on our teeth chattering away in the cold.
We felt absurd knowing your teeth.
The main worry was when it made me squirm, and then burn,
Too late, the drill was performed, with too much work,
And that was purity and goodness in the process,
For me, for me, and for those who call themselves the dentist.
We do find teeth a chore, always to be restored.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Relic
When my grave is broke up again
Some second guest to entertain,
—For graves have learn'd that woman-head,
To be to more than one a bed—
And he that digs it, spies
A bracelet of bright hair about the bone,
Will he not let us alone,
And think that there a loving couple lies,
Who thought that this device might be some way
To make their souls at the last busy day
Meet at this grave, and make a little stay?
If this fall in a time, or land,
Where mass-devotion doth command,
Then he that digs us up will bring
Us to the bishop or the king,
To make us relics; then
Thou shalt be a Mary Magdalen, and I
A something else thereby;
All women shall adore us, and some men.
And, since at such time miracles are sought,
I would have that age by this paper taught
What miracles we harmless lovers wrought.
First we loved well and faithfully,
Yet knew not what we loved, nor why;
Difference of sex we never knew,
No more than guardian angels do;
Coming and going we
Perchance might kiss, but not between those meals;
Our hands ne'er touch'd the seals,
Which nature, injured by late law, sets free.
These miracles we did; but now alas!
All measure, and all language, I should pass,
Should I tell what a miracle she was.
poem by John Donne
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Krishna's Meal
Kanha eats in Yasoda's lap.
some he eats, some he drops,
as the ladies of Nandgaon watch,
some he eats and some he puts
in Nanda's mouth,
this joy is beyound recount.
some he eats, some gives to gopas,
butter in his hands, curd in doniyas.
The joy of Yasoda
the three worlds cannot account.
the meal is over, Kanha washes,
for Sur the left-overs count.
poem by Sant Surdas
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Rust eats iron
Rust eats iron.
Separation from wife
eats husband
Contempt by kith and kins
And serving evil master
Eats body by burning silently
Corroding heart and soul body
from within.
Rust eats iron.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Ah, Are You Digging on My Grave?
"Ah, are you digging on my grave,
My loved one? -- planting rue?"
-- "No: yesterday he went to wed
One of the brightest wealth has bred.
'It cannot hurt her now,' he said,
'That I should not be true.'"
"Then who is digging on my grave,
My nearest dearest kin?"
-- "Ah, no: they sit and think, 'What use!
What good will planting flowers produce?
No tendance of her mound can loose
Her spirit from Death's gin.'"
"But someone digs upon my grave?
My enemy? -- prodding sly?"
-- "Nay: when she heard you had passed the Gate
That shuts on all flesh soon or late,
She thought you no more worth her hate,
And cares not where you lie.
"Then, who is digging on my grave?
Say -- since I have not guessed!"
-- "O it is I, my mistress dear,
Your little dog , who still lives near,
And much I hope my movements here
Have not disturbed your rest?"
"Ah yes! You dig upon my grave...
Why flashed it not to me
That one true heart was left behind!
What feeling do we ever find
To equal among human kind
A dog's fidelity!"
"Mistress, I dug upon your grave
To bury a bone, in case
I should be hungry near this spot
When passing on my daily trot.
I am sorry, but I quite forgot
It was your resting place."
poem by Thomas Hardy
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Liturgy....
liturgy....
black coffee,
old hands opening boxes.
sweeping the floor
of the soul.
words shaped like photographs
made of wind and tears.
simple things...
simple doings!
the same shovel
digs the grave,
digs in the garden.
barefoot,
and half naked,
no need for words,
no fears to console.
live without regrets,
leave it all on the table.
do the work, and move on.
dont be the hollow religious image,
a body that has no love,
a love that has no body.
dont be so quick to wash your hands,
the dirt neath your nails
is your heritage!
liturgy...
black coffee,
and touching,
the shovel, and the axe!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Teeth
English Teeth, English Teeth!
Shining in the sun
A part of British heritage
Aye, each and every one.
English Teeth, Happy Teeth!
Always having fun
Clamping down on bits of fish
And sausages half done.
English Teeth! HEROES' Teeth!
Hear them click! and clack!
Let's sing a song of praise to them -
Three Cheers for the Brown Grey and Black.
poem by Spike Milligan
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Anger, an attribute of devil
As the white ant eats up the wood
Anger eats up thy wisdom
Bravery doesn't lie in taking revenge
It lies in checking thy anger
Anger is an attribute of devil
In anger thou forget the difference
Between good and bad
Thou art like a devil who is devoid of virtue
Anger keeps thee away from God
For he ignores thy sin howsoever grave it is
And wishes thee to ignore the infirmities of
Thy counterpart.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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Two Reverse Acts
He comes out of his hiding place,
With a husky voice and a pale face.
His words expose his phoney force,
He puts the cart before the horse.
He kills and wrecks with the right hand,
And digs his grave with the other hand.
poem by Omar Jabak
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