If you want to eat pickled herring, think about the thirst you will have.
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Who’s afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?
Or it is “Who’s afraid of Virginia Wolf”?
Anyway, Palin and lip-stick coated pit bull persona is being attacked again,
From Ashley Judd, for Palin’s defense of aerial hunting of wolves.
Palin has encouraged hunting for wolves that she made a $150 bounty,
For each severed left paw,
What gall!
The hunters fly in airplanes or helicopters to bag their prey,
How daring!
With high powered rifles with scopes they shoot to kill,
I would have them much more on the ground, on foot, if dare I say.
Then I would consider that a hunt.
Not shooting fish in a fish barrel, a barrel with a bunch dead pickled herring.
(2-5-09)
poem by Joe Rosochacki
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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5. Rotten Perks
A porkpie and a pickled egg
Left in a buffet car
The porkpie was in plastic wrap
Whilst egg was in a jar
They’d travelled down from London
Today they’d been in York
The egg had drank its vinegar
And pie was lacking pork
Egg nearly sold last Monday
But a diner said it stunk
The waiter threw it back in jar
Where it got a little drunk
Porkpie sat in sunshine
Soaked up the nice hot rays
As furry green things ate his crust
For more than last ten days
Until at last the driver said
Send snack for that’s my perk
He ate the pie and pickled egg
Then took ten weeks off work
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Call II
...details, inc, inc, inc, secreterces, ink, ink, ink, sweet quatros, dieci, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine. Ocho. Ochoa, neves, neves, neves, sex sank for three, two, one, fire, fire, water, water, running away, water running forever. Hiss of piss in the trolls' bowl. Baggottfaggott, baggotfaggott. Groans of sons in the crones bones. Piper, pipe us a tune, tuneful and sweet, like herring, herring, running away. Drone, drone of the moatboat. Fire, fire everywhere, eatrat, eat and a beer. Eat, overspilling and sweet, like herring, herring, running awayawa, poob, poob. A ship, a deck, a hull, a hold, a fire, fire everywhere. Don'tsmoke, don'tsmoke. Will, wool, well, wail, Ariadne's string, string running forever, ink, ink, ink, hyebye, hyebye. Oh, oh, oh, oh, that's nothing, nothing running away forever, awayawa. Zood, zood, owns, parknap, parknap, ereh, ereh, ARTIVEL, for, three, three, two, won: fire! A lion. A roar. A shriek. A chill. WILLIE-WILLIE! i
poem by Robert Dickerson
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3. Smaller Class Sizes
Wally the whale wanted learning
With herring he went to their school
He soon had to stand in the corner
For breaking a brand new school rule
The teacher asked why he had gone there
He should be at home with his pod
Not here at a school for small herring
And why had he not tried the cod
Wally said he was an orphan
He’d tried cod but they were so cruel
A young killer whale like our Wally
Just needed a small tasty school
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
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The Sacrifice
i've seen you
thirst
i feel what
thirst is
you look for
water
or whatever
that satisfies
the dreams of
your lips& tongue
i thirst for
thirst itself
but i do not
look for water
or even if there
is this pool
i still do not
wish to drink anything
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Religion is pickled God.
quote by H.G. Wells
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rose had a huge thirst one November.
A big thirst if I well it remember.
she did drink a whole pool,
And don`t call me a fool,
But this made her thirst feel even stronger.
quote by by Luis Estable
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Godly thirst....
there is this
thirst in me, not in the tongue
the mouth denies it
there is this thirst
that water or wine or
juice
cannot quench
it is a thirst that forever
stays
a dropp of rain
a dew from a leaf
a word from my Creator
shall satisfy it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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That was like throwing three pickled onions into a thimble!
quote by Sid Waddell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Human Being...
a thirst remains a thirst
a thirst for everything
a hunger for everyone
always dissatisfied...
wo/man
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Jars & Pickles
Jars and Pickles
Our George was a pickler,
pickles were his number,
pickled eggs and cucumbers,
and pickled meats for dinner.
He kept ‘em all in pickle jars,
some small, some large, some, round
and they were in his out house
where pickles would abound.
Some had pull tops, screw tops, twist,
some were sealed with paper, greased
and he'd strive to fill them up with treats
as his wife Lilly loved her treats.
Oh yes Lilly loved a pickle,
cauliflower was new and so
George would endeavour
to pickle quite a few.
Oh yes George loved to pickle
and finally broke through
when he made his dear wife Lilly
the proudest gal, tis true
for there upon the table,
all tied up with string
was a jar called Picalilly,
that made Lil's heart go zing!
poem by Ruth Walters
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Remembering Thirst
it was when there was not water anymore
when i remember thirst
i hold the glass peering carefully if there is still any water left
there is none and so i go on and on the usual way that was
everything still contained in the vessel of my childhood
the ordinary wants still unsatisfied sleeping the whole night in thirst
even so thirsty in dreams until
finally forgetting thirst
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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It's but kindly that the pock savour of the herring.
It is kindly that the poke fair of the Herring.