It's but kindly that the pock savour of the herring.
Related quotes
It is kindly that the poke fair of the Herring.
The real success
With a woman of love
When I talk, I savour her every word,
When I touch, I savour her every part,
And when in foreplay, I savour her every writhing.
The real success of mine lies
In making her savour likewise.
28.01.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In the eyes of the lover, pock-marks are dimples.
Ye're like the miller's dog--ye lick your lips ere the pock be opened.
In the eyes of a lover a pock-marked face is one with pretty dimples.
Save Me Darling
Why should it matter how I feel
This old romantic down at hill
Then again, if Id known the outcome, sure youd win.
Illusion shattered, made them real
A night of magic, fate is sealed
Ran amok, and you knocked my tiny world for six
It wouldnt have made the slightest , blindest bit of difference
All together now, lets hear us pray
Make it better now and savour the day
Im all over, save me darling!
I feel it deep down deep inside
Can not believe were still alive
That is good, cause I did not mean you harm, my love
We took a shot at masquerade
Came crashing down on loves parade
We were young, were so full of teen emotion then
We couldnt have made the slightest, blindest bit of difference
All together now, lets hear us pray
Make it better now and savour the day
Im all over, save me darling!
All together now, lets hear us pray
Make it better now and savour the day
Im all over, save me darling!
We couldnt have made the slightest, blindest bit of difference
All together
All together now, lets hear us pray
Make it better now and savour the day
Im all over, save me darling!
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Kindly Keep It Country
If youre gonna play the jukebox
Would you kindly keep it country
cause Im feelin so lonely tonight
Oh please play a sad song about a heart thats just been stepped on
Would you kindly keep it country for me tonight
Id get up off this bar stool if youd play something we could dance to
Oh, a song about a love thats gone astray
Oh I love to hear em sing about the misery and pain
Would you kindly keep it country for me tonight
Oh please play a sad song about a heart thats just been stepped on
Would you kindly keep it country for me tonight
Would you kindly keep it country for me tonight
song performed by by Vince Gill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Oh
It is snowing and death bugs me
as stubborn as insomnia.
The fierce bubbles of chalk,
the little white lesions
settle on the street outside.
It is snowing and the ninety
year old woman who was combing
out her long white wraith hair
is gone, embalmed even now,
even tonight her arms are smooth
muskets at her side and nothing
issues from her but her last word - 'Oh.' Surprised by death.
It is snowing. Paper spots
are falling from the punch.
Hello? Mrs. Death is here!
She suffers according to the digits
of my hate. I hear the filaments
of alabaster. I would lie down
with them and lift my madness
off like a wig. I would lie
outside in a room of wool
and let the snow cover me.
Paris white or flake white
or argentine, all in the washbasin
of my mouth, calling, 'Oh.'
I am empty. I am witless.
Death is here. There is no
other settlement. Snow!
See the mark, the pock, the pock!
Meanwhile you pour tea
with your handsome gentle hands.
Then you deliberately take your
forefinger and point it at my temple,
saying, 'You suicide bitch!
I'd like to take a corkscrew
and screw out all your brains
and you'd never be back ever.'
And I close my eyes over the steaming
tea and see God opening His teeth.
'Oh.' He says.
I see the child in me writing, 'Oh.'
Oh, my dear, not why.
poem by Anne Sexton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
If you want to eat pickled herring, think about the thirst you will have.