Related quotes
Who eats bread with barley porridge will be sent to Siberia.
Miss T
It's a very odd thing -
As odd can be -
That whatever Miss T eats
Turns into Miss T.;
Porridge and apples,
Mince, muffins and mutton,
Jam, junket, jumbles -
Not a rap, not a button
It matters; the moment
They're out of her plate,
Though shared by Miss Butcher
And sour Mr. Bate;
Tiny and cheerful,
And neat as can be,
Whatever Miss T. eats
Turns into Miss T.
poem by Walter de la Mare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Porridge At The Pub
I had my breakfast this morning at a pub in our town,
But my experience there left my face with a massive frown.
I ordered some porridge, topped with banana and honey,
But, despite it being cheap, it was not worth the money.
With me, the bowlful of porridge was not a massive hit,
Because I found eating it, was like eating a bowlful of grit.
The oats and milk, I found, were far from very well mixed:
Though I'm sure this is a problem that can be easily fixed.
On top of that, I thought the porridge tasted a little bit weird,
So, by me, my bowlful of porridge didn't get totally cleared.
About my breakfast experience, I did not like to complain,
But I won't be eating porridge at that particular pub again.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
His Life, a Porridge Pool
Sitting on a traditional stool
Starring, ripples in a pool
He stirred porridge with a wooden spoon
Ripples, cause of his spoon
Porridge, had become a pool
His life, a porridge pool.
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Dogtown
Okay.
The towns dawning, Im the only one awake.
The streets are whistling, I light my fourth cigarette.
I think of my friends, they were once not so dead.
What are they thinking now?
One day Ill be just a little stone,
Nobodyll know that the stone had such emotions.
Anyway, Im always on the run.
Someday Ill be remembered for the phone calls I never made,
Letters I never mailed,
And stories I never finished telling anyone.
The towns yawning, I let my dog walk me around.
He took a shoot and people smiled,
I tried the same and people frowned.
Yes, its a dog, dogtown.
One day lets be a pair of trees,
Nobodyll know that the trees had such a history.
Anyway, wed never be this lonely.
Someday Ill be remembered for the fine words I meant to keep,
A warm smile I meant to leave,
And a true song I meant to finish writing all my life.
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown,
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown.
Dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dogtown.
Peas porridge luck, peas porridge stuck,
Peas porridge in the pot nine years old.
Some gets paid, some gets grades,
Some stays in the pot nine years old.
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown,
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown.
Dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dogtown.
Peas porridge loved, peas porridge spoiled,
Peas porridge in the pot nine years old.
Some gets laid, some gets slayed,
Some stays in the pot nine years old.
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown,
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown.
Dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dogtown.
Dogtown, dogtown, dogtown, dogtown,
Dogtown, dogtown, dogtown -.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Dogtown
Okay.
The towns dawning, Im the only one awake.
The streets are whistling, I light my fourth cigarette.
I think of my friends, they were once not so dead.
What are they thinking now?
One day Ill be just a little stone,
Nobodyll know that the stone had such emotions.
Anyway, Im always on the run.
Someday Ill be remembered for the phone calls I never made,
Letters I never mailed,
And stories I never finished telling anyone.
The towns yawning, I let my dog walk me around.
He took a shoot and people smiled,
I tried the same and people frowned.
Yes, its a dog, dogtown.
One day lets be a pair of trees,
Nobodyll know that the trees had such a history.
Anyway, wed never be this lonely.
Someday Ill be remembered for the fine words I meant to keep,
A warm smile I meant to leave,
And a true song I meant to finish writing all my life.
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown,
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown.
Dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dogtown.
Peas porridge luck, peas porridge stuck,
Peas porridge in the pot nine years old.
Some gets paid, some gets grades,
Some stays in the pot nine years old.
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown,
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown.
Dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dogtown.
Peas porridge loved, peas porridge spoiled,
Peas porridge in the pot nine years old.
Some gets laid, some gets slayed,
Some stays in the pot nine years old.
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown,
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown.
Dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dogtown.
Dogtown, dogtown, dogtown, dogtown,
Dogtown, dogtown, dogtown -.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Cooking Pot
our cooking pot is not made of porcelain
or silver or gold but it is made of the mud
of this earth
hardened by time and fire and too much
waiting
our patience consumed
our waiting had been too long about this cooking
pot, earthen
where we put all our dreams and cook them
like rice
porridge, all of our dreams
fired by the woods of our reminiscence
our longings our loneliness our daily concerns
our future wishes
and then when the time comes to open
and see and smell what rice porridge is
we say we like it we say we love it
only to be repulsed by this visitor in the house
'this is not cooking! This is not good! ' and he stares at us
and says, we need more fire, more wood, more time
to have the perfect porridge
i went out unable to stand this hunger
unable to see what this visitor says
it is our fault we allowed him in
we open our doors and windows and let him sleep in our room
as we lay on the floors and keep ourselves on the stairs.
'this is too much' i said.
'he must leave this house at once' i told you.
this is our pot. this is our porridge. this is our cooking.
and we must eat. we must love what we have.
'get out of my house' i said.
and then i am relieved from an opression.
i am happier now. My pot is earthen. Its bottom is sooty black.
i am blue. And i do not really mind.
This is my porridge. You may take it, if you like.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Porridge
Why is there no monument
To Porridge in our land?
It it's good enough to eat,
It's good enough to stand!
On a plinth in London
A statue we should see
Of Porridge made in Scotland
Signed, "Oatmeal, O.B.E."
(By a young dog of three)
poem by Spike Milligan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Television is a golden goose that lays scrambled eggs; and it is futile and probably fatal to beat it for not laying caviar. Anyway, more people like scrambled eggs than caviar.
quote by Lee Loevinger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Cold Porridge
Marcia was sour cream washed down with bile,
she never would smile, just smirked or snarled.
Catherine was smashing, a raspberry ripple
with happy, trill laughter and girlish giggles.
Samantha was coy, but blew hot and cold,
rather like custard, sweet, sometimes cloyed.
Patrick was sausage daubed with brown sauce,
tasty and cheeky but not ones first choice.
Bertie was naughty, like very rich chocolate,
bad for you health, but that never stopped you.
Egg and cress sandwiches, Martha and George,
smelly and boring, they got up your nose.
Suzanna was snooty, a caviar bitch,
stubborn as food stains that bleaching won't fix.
I hope you've enjoyed my main menu today
not very tasteful, cold porridge, I'd say.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Wistful
Oh how I'd be gay and glad
If a little house I had,
Snuggled in a shady lot,
With behind a garden plot;
Simple grub, old duds to wear,
A book, a pipe, a rocking-chair . . .
You would never hear me grouse
If I had a little house.
Oh if I had just enough
Dough to buy the needful stuff;
Milk and porridge, toast and tea,
How contented I would be!
You could have your cake and wine,
I on cabbage soup would dine,
Joking to the journey's end -
Had I just enough to spend.
Oh had I no boss to please
I'd give thanks on bended knees;
Could I to myself belong,
I would fill the day with song.
Freedom's crust is sweeter far
Than control and caviar;
How my ragged hat I'd toss
If I didn't have a boss.
So you may see my point of view,
But there's nothing I can do;
Oh the weariness of work,
Duties that I may not shirk.
Though simplicity I crave
I must go down to my grave,
Bossed by bullion, crossed by care -
Just a poor damn millionaire.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Meditation is not for him who eats too much, nor for him who eats not at all not for him who is over much addicted to sleep, nor for him who is always awake.
When an elephant eats and eats and still cries for more, it is the grass that will get embarrassed.
It eats you up. It eats you up. And you have to - I had a lot of help. I had a lot of therapy. And I was able to - because it was hard, you know, to - you can't just lay it on friends and children.
quote by Lynn Redgrave
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The impatient person eats goat; the one who hesitates eats beef.
South African proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The always-hurrying person eats goat, but the one who takes his time eats beef.
Why do the caterpillar and the ant have to be enemies? One eats leaves, and the other eats caterpillars. Oh, I see now.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!