It is not good to eat cherries from the same dish with persons of high rank.
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Treasure for joy
Need two persons,
Mummy and daddy,
the result is me;
Need two persons,
My grandparents,
to take care of me;
Need two persons,
Child specialist and family physician,
to look after my health;
Need two persons,
My loving teachers,
to teach me manners;
Need two persons,
My sincere friends,
for play and pastime;
Time has come,
A good job has come,
A happy companion has come;
A beautiful wife to share my life,
We have two children, a girl and boy,
They are our treasure for joy.
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wise Advice
If persons do not want to change for good,
Advise them if you can, sometimes;
If persons are recalcitrant in mood,
Try advising them in some better climes!
If persons do not listen or pay heed,
Ignore their misdemeanor, if you can;
If persons appear to be ‘blind’ indeed,
Just watch them from a farther distance, man.
If persons are too adamant to change,
Leave them to change the hard way, if they must;
If persons are in ‘impossible’ range,
Leave them to God or let them bite the dust!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-8-2010
poem by John Celes
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Those that eat cherries with great persons shall have their eyes squirted out with the stones.
Flaming Dragon Curry
On the menu, I spotted Flaming Dragon Curry,
But, to try this dish, I am in no particular hurry;
It has onions, red peppers, and chicken (diced) ,
Steeped in seasoning, herbs, and Indian spice.
I'd probably be sitting there with streaming eyes:
For me to try this dish, I think, would not be wise.
As well as watery eyes, my mouth would be on fire;
Neither of which is a sensation I particularly desire.
Five red chillies indicated it was the hottest dish there;
Certainly way too hot for my taste-buds to ever bear.
I consider that this curry is only for the very brave;
It is certainly not a dish that I would ever crave.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Attending, To Show Off
Smart in looks, good in wealth
Or high in rank, if I'm,
I shall attend to show off.
Hosts mistake it for love.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Thoughts While Watching A Still Painting Of Pears And Cherries
upon a tray
are the still orange pears
below are the three cherries
and the wilting leaves
i like the way the pears'
way of seducing me into biting it
the cherries compete with
the enticement
the leaves wilt with envy
and here i am watching and not
even allowed to touch anything
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Digger's Song
Scrape the bottom of the hole: gather up the stuff,
Fossick in the crannies, lest you leave a grain
behind,
Just another shovelful and that'll be enough,-
Now we'll take it to the bank and see what we can
find,
Give the dish a twirl around,
Let the water swirl around,
Gently let it circulate, there's music in the swish,
And the tinkle of the gravel,
As the pebbles quickly travel
Around in merry circles on the bottom of the dish.
Ah, if man could only wash his life, if he only could,
Panning off the evil deeds, keeping but the
good,
What a mighty lot of digger's dishes would be sold,
Though I fear the heap of tailings would be greater
than the gold,
Give the dish a twirl around,
Let the water swirl around,
Man's the sport of circumstance however he may
wish,
Fortune! are you there now?
Answer to my prayer now,
And drop a half ounce nugget in the bottom of
the dish.
Gently let the water lap, keep the corners dry,
That's about the place the gold will generally stay,
What was that bright particle that just then
caught my eye?
I fear me by the look of things 'twas only yellow
clay,
Just another twirl around,
Let the water swirl around,
That's the way we rob the river of its golden fish,
What's that? can't we snare a one?
Don't say that there's ne'er a one,
Bah, there's not a colour in the bottom of the dish.
poem by Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
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Because I Got High (Radio Edit)
I was gonna clean my room until I got high
I was gonna get up and find the broom but then I got high
my room is still messed up and I know why
- cause I got high
cause I got high
cause I got high
I was gonna go to class before I got high
I coulda cheated and I coulda passed but I got high
I am taking it next semester and I know why
- cause I got high
cause I got high
cause I got high
I was gonna go to court before I got high
I was gonna pay my child support but then I got high
they took my whole paycheck and I know why
- cause I got high
cause I got high
cause I got high
I wasnt gonna run from the cops but I was high
I was gonna pull right over and stop but I was high
Now I am a paraplegic
- because I got high
because I got high
because I got high
I was gonna make love to you but then I got high
I was gonna eat yo p***y too but then I got high
now I'm j***ing off and I know why
- cause I got high
cause I got high
cause I got high
I messed up my entire life because I got high
I lost my kids and wife because I got high
now I'm sleeping on the sidewalk and I know why
- cause I got high
cause I got high
cause I got high
I'm gonna stop singing this song because I'm high
I'm singing this whole thing wrong because I'm high
and if I dont sell one copy I know why
- cause I'm high
cause I'm high
cause I'm high
song performed by by Afroman from The Good Times
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Icthus (JS#5)
Epiphany 5
Many fishes
Jesus fishes
Peter no fish
Jesus “pish pish “
Peter empty dish
Jesus full dish
Peter bare dish
Jesus extra dish
Peter one dish
Jesus many dishes
Peter fish
Jesus fishes
B.C. fish
A.D. fishes
B.C. Moses
A.D. Jesus
poem by James Hart
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Greeen Green Grass Of Home
The old home town looks the same,
As I step down from the train
And there to greet me is my mamma and my poppa
Down the road I look, and there runs Mary,
Hair of gold, lips like cherries,
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home
Yes, they'll all come to meet me, Arms a-reachin', smilin' sweetly,
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home
The old house is still standin,'Though the paint is cracked and dry
And there's that old oak tree, That I used to play on.
Down the lane I'll walk with my sweet Mary,
Hair of gold and lips like cherries
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home.
Then I awake and look around me,
At the four gray walls that surround me,
And I realize .Yes I was only dreaming,
For there's a guard and a sad old padre,
Arm in arm we'll walk at daybreak,
And at last I'll touch the green green grass of home
song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Springtheme
Good morning my love
The skies are clearing up today
Can I kiss you on the boob like I did yesterday?
You let me in, you let me sin
You made me cry, you got me high
Can I touch you in the nude?
You lookin really good in bed
How come you aint talkin like we was yesterday?
You let me in, you let me sin
You made me cry, you got me high
Wake up little wakeup
Got somethin to say
Dont move a muscle
Im gettin dressed and I cant stay
Ohh, you let me in, you let me sin
You made me cry, you got me high
You let me in, you got me high,
Got me high, got me high, high, high
Good morning love,
Good morning my love
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Springtheme
Good morning my love
The skies are clearing up today
Can I kiss you on the boob like I did yesterday?
You let me in, you let me sin
You made me cry, you got me high
Can I touch you in the nude?
You lookin really good in bed
How come you aint talkin like we was yesterday?
You let me in, you let me sin
You made me cry, you got me high
Wake up little wakeup
Got somethin to say
Dont move a muscle
Im gettin dressed and I cant stay
Ohh, you let me in, you let me sin
You made me cry, you got me high
You let me in, you got me high,
Got me high, got me high, high, high
Good morning love,
Good morning my love
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hunting or Fishing?
Hunting or fishing – which is better?
That is what I am thinking about!
In business many hunt for customers;
Some men prefer casting net to catch fish!
Even for poets the position is the same
In poetry websites to catch readers!
Some lay wise traps to catch readers!
I use fishing rod with a needle and bait
To catch readers who can understand!
Whether the rank is high or low it is
Immaterial but the true comment is!
Hunting readers to comment and rank
Or fishing readers to comment and rank
Are not really going to enhance one’s status;
For, voluntary comments are indeed valuable!
Poets are jealous to appreciate others’ merit
But some poets raise the status of others!
So, letters to such poets increase sans end!
This is the status of poetry websites now!
So, it is left to you to hunt or fish or lay trap
As you wish to catch readers for rank, etc.!
poem by Ramesh T A
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There is a Garden in Her Face
There is a garden in her face
Where roses and white lilies grow;
A heav'nly paradise is that place
Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow.
There cherries grow which none may buy
Till "Cherry-ripe" themselves do cry.
Those cherries fairly do enclose
Of orient pearl a double row,
Which when her lovely laughter shows,
They look like rose-buds filled with snow;
Yet them nor peer nor prince can buy,
Till "Cherry-ripe" themselves do cry.
Her eyes like angels watch them still;
Her brows like bended bows do stand,
Threat'ning with piercing frowns to kill
All that attempt, with eye or hand
Those sacred cherries to come nigh
Till "Cherry-ripe" themselves do cry.
poem by Thomas Champion (1619)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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There Is A Garden In Her Face
There is a garden in her face
Where roses and white lilies grow;
A heav'nly paradise is that place
Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow.
There cherries grow which none may buy,
Till 'Cherry ripe' themselves do cry.
Those cherries fairly do enclose
Of orient pearl a double row,
Which when her lovely laughter shows,
They look like rose-buds fill'd with snow;
Yet them nor peer nor prince can buy,
Till 'Cherry ripe' themselves do cry.
Her eyes like angels watch them still,
Her brows like bended bows do stand,
Threat'ning with piercing frowns to kill
All that attempt with eye or hand
Those sacred cherries to come nigh,
Till 'Cherry ripe' themselves do cry.
poem by Thomas Campion
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Peggy
Peggy said good morning and I said good bye,
When farmers dib the corn and laddies sow the rye.
Young Peggy's face was common sense and I was rather shy
When I met her in the morning when the farmers sow the rye.
Her half laced boots fit tightly as she tripped along the grass,
And she set her foot so lightly where the early bee doth pass.
Oh Peggy was a young thing, her face was common sense,
I courted her about the spring and loved her ever thence.
Oh Peggy was the young thing and bonny as to size;
Her lips were cherries of the spring and hazel were her eyes.
Oh Peggy she was straight and tall as is the poplar tree,
Smooth as the freestone of the wall, and very dear to me.
Oh Peggy's gown was chocolate and full of cherries white;
I keep a bit on't for her sake and love her day and night.
I drest myself just like a prince and Peggy went to woo,
But she's been gone some ten years since, and I know not what to do.
poem by John Clare
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Jigsaw
Here we hear that a perch stands for fish or for pole, -
though this pole can be twenty four feet long or square –
or a pole upon which
a kingfisher can perch
before diving to fish for his dinner dish.
Don’t consider it rude if we add that a rood
is the same as a perch, or a pole or a rod,
and a rood is a Cross, so please don’t become cross
as we must get across that this cross can be square, -
and this square cross can lengthwise be measured – so there!
A pole, too, is a fish, somewhat flounderish
with fine fins which swish and a face like a dish.
Thus kingfisher must fish for his dish, and that dish is a dish,
so lets face it in anguish, - a dish is a dish is a fish!
As a face is a head, and a head is a poll
which tells who is ahead, or shows what each prole
thought of what someone said:
and a wat, as all know, is a temple Cambo –
all the sages who sow seeds of wisdom say, - oh,
to all this don’t say ‘No! ’
Then watt brings us a light which shines down in the night, -
though this seems ‘out of sight’, you should now see the light, -
that kingfishers alight as they perch on their pole
ere they pounce on their poll
for to search for their perch,
for the soul of the sole in the shoal.
What rude fishermen do
before rod poles align
with a line from their perch to their perch.
Like the kingfisher too, bird of brilliant hue,
is our parrot, Poll, who is no stranger to you.
When he’s not being rude he tends somewhat to brood
or repeat through and through, as in these lines I do.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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My Persons
My person
My person
My
Brother and sister
Persons
You and we and
Us and all
Lets go row
Row
Row row wheel
We'll row
The wheel
Everyone belongs
In a hall
Of all of
Names belong
To things
Of queens
And kings
And priests
And
My persons
My brother
And sister
Persons
poem by Deci Hernandez
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Green Green Grass Of Home
The old hometown looks the same
As I step down from the train
And there to meet me is my mama and papa
And down the road I look and there runs Mary
Her golden lips like cherries
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home.
Yes, they've all come to meet me
Arms reaching, smiling sweetly
It's so good to touch the
Green, green grass of home.
The old house is still standing
Though the paint is cracked and dry
And there's that old oak tree that I used to play on
Down the lane I'd walk with my sweet Mary
Her golden lips like cherries
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home.
Yesm they've all come
Arms reaching, smiling sweetly
It's so good to touch the
Green, green grass of home.
Then I awake and look around me
At the gray walls that surround me
And I realized that I was only dreaming
For there's a guard and there's a sad old padre
Arm in arm, we'll walk at daybreak
Again I'll touch the green, green grass of home.
Yes they'll all come to see me
In the shade of that old oak tree
As they lay me neath the
Green, green grass of home...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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