If I haven't eaten wheat-bread, I've seen it in people's hands.
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Bread Hair
Im a wigged-out daddy with bread on top
I dig an easy-bake granny with a whiskey mop
If you love me, you neednt the whole wheat crop
cause they had a useless battle andll never stop
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Youre drivin all my hope away
Im a pumpernickel-do for you, dough you do
Use a yarmulka of hallah bread if youre a jew
I belong to cayope*, I be the wheat for you
Yeast and flour, bake an hour, its annoying shampoo
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Drivin all my hope away
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Youre drivin all my hope away
Thats a gone rug, buddy
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So I Happen to Prefer Whole Wheat
Of course I'm sleazy!
Isn't that one of the requirements,
I had to admit to get you to date me?
'But I didn't think you were serious when I asked! '
So when did you take notice of it?
Before or after I began to lick,
The crunchy peanut butter off your nipples.
'Yeah...
But do you think holding them,
Between slices of whole wheat bread...
Really accomplishes anything? '
That's a matter of opinion!
So I happen to prefer whole wheat bread.
What's the problem here?
I was going to use the muffins.
Do you want me to use the muffins?
'I'm sensitive to multi-grain.'
Huh?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When You Put Your Hands on Me
When you put your hands on me
When you put your hands on me
I don't know about the travel of time
And I've never seen most of the world
I don't know diving out of the sky
Or living like the diamonds of pearls
See I haven't danced to a musical tune
And I haven't noticed the flowers in bloom
I haven't smiled when alone in my room very much
Then we touched
CHORUS:
I just know when you put your hands on me
song performed by by Christina Aguilera from Christina Aguilera
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetry as bread - In the spirit of Rumi 28
Poetry is like bread – daily bread,
like ‘Irish’ soda bread, best eaten on its day:
In the bakery of the heart and mind,
the baker’s woken early before dawn,
refreshed and clear of purpose, full of the day’s promise;
brings air to flour, moulds and shapes;
as the sun rises, so the bread.
Here it is, warm from the heart,
smell it – this is the smell of goodness, isn’t it?
Touch it, both crisp and soft by turns;
taste its goodness, beauty, truth, its very being;
this is not yesterday’s bread, with which you toy
while waiting between courses, your head’s straying mind
in a thousand other places; this is here and now;
coming warm from the heart; eat it with your heart;
this is the heart’s nourishment; tomorrow it may serve
tomorrow’s mind; today, it is your daily bread,
your nourishment – this poem, warm from heart to heart.
And when you've eaten it - the bread has disappeared -
only your satisfaction remains, beyond all sense;
as these words, already staling on the page,
exposed to all the wanderings of the mind;
only the love that they were made with, still remains;
this, is your daily bread.
[from a metaphor in Rumi's writings]
poem by Michael Shepherd
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I Haven't Done My Homework!
I haven't done my homework Dad!
(Dad) Well my boy that's very bad!
But Dad my homework book got eaten!
(Dad) Don't lie to me or you'll get a beat'n!
But Dad it's true my book has gone!
(Dad) Now my son you're very wrong!
I saw it on the kitchen table
I do not like your silly fables
But Dad the Dog has eaten it
I saw him eat it, every bit!
(Dad) OK my son I've had it now!
It's homework time, dont want a row!
Ask your mum where it could be
I want it done before your tea!
(Mum) Oh my son you'll never guess
I put it on the floor
and the dog has eaten it
and your homework book's no more!
poem by Alex Skerratt
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Sliced Bread
Sliced bread...
Whole wheat and toasted.
Buttered with jam,
And munched.
Either with tea, punch...
Or just plain water for lunch!
Sliced bread...
With cheddar cheese and tomato.
Add Romaine lettuce,
Topped with fried strips of bacon.
This too will certainly do.
Sliced bread...
Oatmeal raisin,
Oven baked and fed.
Sliced bread...
Crumbed to stuff a turkey.
And seasoned to gobble...
With an aftertaste on the tongue,
Deliciously nutmeged!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Martian Landscape
* come from the land where
The wheat is still wheat
Where the waters in the rivers is still water
In this land every man lends
A hand when you need it
But your hands are full of life
So you can help yourself and feel it
Its been a long way from the red of my home
From the valleys
And the green plains never ending
Everyone knows that the sun in his land is stronger
And your hands are full of life
If you can only wait just longer
** so let it be a small haven big in your heart
Dont let it turn into a nova
Tryin to climb and climb
Try and forget this place where
I can still find time
To sing in rhyme
.*** martian landscape,
Ill learn to lie in your arms
Where all the freedom is mine and it comes
Martian landscape,
Ill turn my face to your sun
Where your horizon is mine and it comes
* repeat
** repeat
*** repeat
Martian landscape
Martian landscape
song performed by by Ufo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Special Bread For My Lover
Take wheat, barley, beans, lentils, millet ans spelt;
Mixed them in one bowl to make the special bread for my lover;
For the fuel of a cow's dung is not what she needs.
They will eat bread by weight and in anxiety,
And they will drink water by measure and in desolation;
But my lover will eat the special bread as baked from you!
For the prophets are like the jackals in the ruins and,
Their visions are false and their days are at hand.
Every vision to my sweet lover is fulfilled,
For she has now got the special bread as baked by you;
And you did as instructed by my formula.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Poppies on the Wheat
Along Ancona's hills the shimmering heat,
A tropic tide of air with ebb and flow
Bathes all the fields of wheat until they glow
Like flashing seas of green, which toss and beat
Around the vines. The poppies lithe and fleet
Seem running, fiery torchmen, to and fro
To mark the shore.
The farmer does not know
That they are there. He walks with heavy feet,
Counting the bread and wine by autumn's gain,
But I,--I smile to think that days remain
Perhaps to me in which, through bread be sweet
No more, and red wine warm my blood in vain,
I shall be glad remembering how the fleet,
Lithe poppies ran like torchmen with the wheat.
poem by Helen Hunt Jackson
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I Haven't Forgotten
I haven't forgotten when I meet you first!
I haven't forgotten when I greet you last!
I haven't forgotten your pretty face!
I haven't forgotten your smile and grace!
I haven't forgotten how we started chatting!
I haven't forgotten when we started dating!
I haven't forgotten our last walk together!
I haven't forgotten how I became a loser!
I haven't forgotten how it became too late!
I haven't forgotten when I understood fate!
I haven't forgotten that summer's northwester!
I haven't forgotten and won't forget ever!
poem by Asif Andalib
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Neighbours
My neighbour has a field of wheat
And I a rood of vine;
And he will give me bread to eat,
And I will give him wine.
And so we are a jolly pair,
Contentedly unwed,
Singing with supper as we share
Red wine and crusty bread.
Now venison is mighty meat
And so is trout and hare;
A mallard duck is sweat to eat
And quail is dainty fare.
But such are foods for festal day,
And we will not repine
While on the table we can lay
Crisp bread and rosy wine.
A will to till one's own of soil
Is worth a kingly crown,
With bread to feed the belly need,
And wine to wash it down.
So with my neighbour I rejoice
That we are fit and free,
Content to praise with lusty voice
Bread, Wine and Liberty.
poem by Robert William Service
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Irom Sharmila, My Daughter
I see people eating
in front of shopping-malls
I see people eating
in front of reality shows
I see people eating
in front of cinema-halls
Only IROM, my daughter,
hematophobic,
hasn't eaten ten years
for only she knowseating
to be homicide
when bread is dipped in read...
poem by Rudra Kinshuk
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Days
I haven't eaten in two days.
Maybe I'll go for four.
I don't see the point of trying life it's such a bore.
All the love has turned to hate.
In both directions great.
I'm in a massive backward fall.
No longer dealing well at all.
How can you expect me to go on living.
When all I do is keep on hurting.
Pain is all around me, and deep inside my soul.
Where once my heart was there's only coldness now.
An empty space,
forever open with nothing placed.
It's been two days since I've last eaten.
Maybe I'll try for four.
poem by Michael McParland
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I Have Taken Your Slice Of Bread
i have taken your slice of bread
from the table
it is for you
as i have already eaten mine
early
this morning
forgive me
i have learned
to eat more
and took
without so much
thinking
your share
the slice of bread
one half bigger
than mine
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Picture Of Greed
on one hand
he carries a
big loaf of bread
on the other
he carries a
basket
of the same
loaf of bread
on his head
is another
basket of
the same loaf
of bread
a little child
spreads his
hands for
a loaf of bread
then he speeds
his way
as he bites
a loaf of
bread in
his mouth
the little child
follows him
and there he
is closing the
door of his
house all
made of bread
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Really Haven't Got The Time
(Mike Pinder)
You want me to ride
In your car outside
Spend some time with you
Just an hour or two
But I really,
I really haven't
I really haven't got the time
I really
I really haven't
I really haven't got the time
I really haven't got the time
I'm a busy man
Workin' when I can
I got no time to lend
I got no time, time to spend
Oh no, I really
I really haven't
I really haven't got the time
Oh no, I really
I really haven't
I really haven't got the time
I really haven't got the time
(Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!)
Instrumental
I really
I really haven't
I really haven't got the time
Oh no, I really
I really haven't
I really haven't got the time
I really haven't got the time
Workin' nine 'til five
Got to stay alive (I've got to stay alive)
Find somebody who (Go find somebody who)
Got some time for you (Who's got the time for you)
But I really
No, no, no, no
I really haven't
I really haven't got the time
Oh no, I really
No, no, no, no
I really haven't
I really haven't got the time
I really haven't got the time
Really haven't got the time
(Really haven't got time)
*************************************************************
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God gives the wheat, He doesn't bake the bread.
You are only master of food that you haven't yet eaten.
I haven't eaten at a McDonald's since I became President.
quote by Bill Clinton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eaten bread is forgotten.
quote by Thomas Fuller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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