Many a rose-cheeked apple is rotten at the core.
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Consumed (Stream III)
The consumer consumed
Like a snake eating its tail.
The worm in the bud,
The rotten apple,
Rotten to the core,
No core.
A corpse eaten inside out.
Outside the circle,
Circling in for the kill,
Killing time
Time to kill.
We slowly die
Outside in,
In need,
We are addicted.
Waiting for our next fix,
Try to fix it
Mr Fix It.
We're in a fix.
With fixed gaze
We watch the ads.
The ads add,
Add to our wants.
Feed our addictions
With sugar and technology.
A hunger we cannot satisfy
Dissatisfied we die inside.
We are subsumed,
The consumer consumed.
P H Brookes Copyright 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Apple and Rose
My little daughter is a tea-rose,
Satin to the touch,
Wine to the lips,
And a faint, delirious perfume.
But my little son
Is a June apple,
Firm and cool,
And scornful of too much sweetness,
But full of tang and flavor
And better than bread to the hungry.
O wild winds, and clumsy, pilfering bees,
With the whole world to be wanton in,
Will you not spare my little tea-rose?
And O ruthless blind creatures,
Who lay eggs of evil at the core of life,
Pass by my one red apple,
That is so firm and sound!
poem by Karle Wilson Baker
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I Am Nasty And Rotten To The Core
I am nasty and rotten to the core
they didn’t call me dodgy for nothing.
I run about and shout a lot;
recently I took lessons on how to be a bitch,
now they call me a son of one.
I can swear like a trooper,
but only when no one is around
after all I’m supposed to be a vicar
with a smiling frown.
Believe it or not this is the real me,
a hairy ape hanging around in a tree.
Some will dispute my claim,
but they don’t know me at all.
I’m really nasty and rotten to the core
that even my wrinkles
are afraid of me.
30 January 2008
poem by David Harris
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Apple Pie Sweet Stuff
Sweet love like honey-bunch-oaks,
rub me down like mummylocks,
the core so round and deep,
juice be the seeds,
candy apple-red-bone,
maybe that's why she stay,
cause that woman love sweet-talk,
never thought I would see the day,
that my arms would be hugging,
back to the sweet stuff,
I'm not trying to wife her,
cause she wouldn't man me,
that apple pie good as a pecan pie,
wears glasses to protect from stream,
cooking smoke into the flame,
call her red-bone-honeyoaks,
seduction oh baby oh my,
digging into the core of fire,
like that apple won't be-tomarrow,
what a pie if you had one,
my apple pie sweet stuff.
poem by Tommy Laster
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Red Apple, Red Apple
Red apple
Red apple
sitting on the ledge
savouring its nutrients
for a few moments longer
Red apple
Red apple
Savouring its time
That is has left
As a whole
Red apple
Red apple
Traveled such a
Long way, from the store?
Farm? another country?
Red apple
Red apple
Haunting me by
The curiosity of
How juicy you taste
Red apple
Red apple
Shine on,
Red apple
poem by John McAdam
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Lovers Or Friends?
Love is like a wild red rose
Friendship, like an apple tree
The apple tree is dark when the red rose blooms
But which will bloom predominantly?
The wild red rose is sweet in Spring
Its Summer blossoms scent the air
Yet wait 'til Winter's finally here,
Will the red rose still be there?
poem by Gloraly Gomez
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The Rose Family
The rose is a rose,
And was always a rose.
But the theory now goes
That the apple's a rose,
And the pear is, and so's
The plum, I suppose.
The dear only knows
What will next prove a rose.
You, of course, are a rose -
But were always a rose.
poem by Robert Frost
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Unripe Apples don't fall
Take time to prepare
and develop your idea
Norture it with care
This is my call
Unripe Apples don't fall
Unless you shake the tree
Standing tall
A bitter fruits taste
Only goes to waste
Like a rotten Apple
Down to the core
Try to dedicate
Think Straight
Proceed with emotions
Before your new introduction
An Apple has five seeds
Clear out all the weeds
This is my call
Unripe Apples don't fall
Unless you shake the tree
Standing tall
Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Alone Is A Rose
A rose Sweet and buetiful
Red as the apple on an apple tree
It glistens as the wet mist damps its shining pettals
As time pasts the petals will soon fall to the ground and the rose starts ageing all alone the beutiful rose waits for someone to come and choose her but as time past she was alone no one to pick her and take her home with them as time went on and on her pettals slowly fell to the groundsoon this rose was no more....alone alone was her fate
poem by Jackalin Friday
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Regarding The Apple's History, A Theological Trifle - After Emily Dickinson
'It's good for the breath! '
With this she tempted Adam to death.
Properties of the apple are renowned since
their eating made it a greatly frowned upon thing.
Still, it is not without its lovers.
But for an apple's charm we would live boring lives,
never a fling or two to alarm the pear,
and we all know an apple will never harm
a teacher's pet, its fables to lure
the imagination, that Golden One's
strength to subvert us to the core.
Let's eat the jelly of sin and tell it!
William Tell's a good shot!
Let's split the Apple in the pot
and stew it for Eve's sly.
Even so our breath is sweet.
Tis the tart one of death
from which we'll all die.
Tis also true, though paradise is lost,
something is to be gained with apple sauce.
poem by Warren Falcon
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The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: LI
THE SAME CONTINUED
We planted love, and lo it bred a brood
Of lusts and vanities and senseless joys.
We planted love, and you have gathered food
Of every bitter herb which fills and cloys.
Your meat is loud excitement and mad noise,
Your wine the unblest ambition of command
O'er hearts of men, of dotards, idiots, boys.
These are the playthings fitted to your hand,
These are your happiness. You weep no more,
But I must weep. My Heaven has been defiled.
My sin has found me out and smites me sore,
And folly, justified of her own child,
Rules all the empire where love reigned of yore,
Folly red--cheeked but rotten to the core.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Aint Talkin bout Love
I heard the news baby, all about your disease
Yeah you may have all you want, baby, but I got somethin you need
Oh yeah, aint talkin bout love
My love is rotten to the core
Aint talkin bout love
Just like I told you before, yeah before
You know youre semi-good lookin, and on the streets again
Oh yeah you think youre really cookin baby, you better find yourself a friend
My friend, aint talkin bout love
My love is rotten to the core
Aint talkin bout love
Just like I told you before, uh before, uh before, before
Aint talkin bout love
Babe its rotten to the core
Aint talkin bout love
Just like I told you before, uh before
I been to the edge, an there I stood an looked down
You know I lost a lot of friends there baby, I got no time to mess around
Mmmm, so if you want it got to bleed for it baby
Yeah, got to got to bleed baby
Mmmm, you got to got to bleed baby
Hey, got to got to bleed baby
Aint talkin bout love
My love is rotten to the core
Aint talkin bout love
Just like I told you before, before, before
Aint talkin bout love
Dont wanna talk about love
Dont need to talk about love
Aint gonna talk about love, no more, no more, ah
Hey hey hey
Hey hey hey
[repeat til outro]
song performed by by Van Halen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mr. Blackwell
I never said i was more than i am
Do what i want and i don't give a damn
You're all so weak you know it makes me ill
Don't like you now and probably never will
You cheat and lie, and wonder why
You can't sleep at night
You're not well, mr. blackwell
And we can tell
You're not well, mr. blackwell
Why don't you go to hell
I am a sinner who just loves to sin
I am a fighter who just loves to win
I am the truth about this crummy hole
There's nothing here that can't be bought or sold
You're cold and mean, and in between
You're rotten to the core
Chorus
You're a victim, a real disgrace
You should be banished from the human race
We'll drink to sorrow then we'll drink to waste
We'll drink a toast to the inhuman race
Here's to the world and the times we're in
Here's to the kid a real man among men
You're cold and mean, and in between
You're rotten to the core
Chorus
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Escape From The Island
I never said I was more than I am
Do what I want and I don't give a damn
You're all so weak you know it makes me ill
Don't like you now and probably never will
You cheat and lie, and wonder why
You can't sleep at night
You're not well, Mr. Blackwell
And we can tell
You're not well, Mr. Blackwell
Why don't you go to hell
I am a sinner who just loves to sin
I am a fighter who just loves to win
I am the truth about this crummy hole
There's nothing here that can't be bought or sold
You're cold and mean, and in between
You're rotten to the core
Chorus
You're a victim, a real disgrace
You should be banished from the human race
We'll drink to sorrow then we'll drink to waste
We'll drink a toast to the inhuman race
Here's to the world and the times we're in
Here's to the kid a real man among men
You're cold and mean, and in between
You're rotten to the core
Chorus
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Moodswings
With the Gorgon's head
Flush to my cheek,
Her ungodly breath
In my nose,
Whispering to me:
'Take the extreme I give you
And plunge it into your fellow man;
For they deserve no less.'
Like an arrow I shot out eyes with my eyes,
A spear, I controlled little lives.
Having changed now,
From a simpering fool
To the devil's tool,
My core is apple-rotten,
Misbegotten,
And all I require is forgiveness
For my tiredness,
Which is the Gorgon of moods.
poem by Stan Petrovich
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Set Free
I remember once when your soul was clean
And also the time when that apple was green
The apple it grew from the tree upon its limb
And we matured from children, and grew into women and men
What happened to us then, was truly unforeseen.
I remember that apple, and it I would not pick
Though it was not deliberate or had it been a trick
So it grew all alone and then on the limb it rotted
From age and negligence it was also spotted
Now that apple disagreed with my body's politic.
I read and then I heard stories all about you
Sadly none were lies as they all were on the venue
We had been used and cheated as your soul had waited
Seems that was the purpose, that you were created
Never would I want to act or to become like you.
I read in the news that you had died
My reaction to that news I could not hide
As I remembered that rotten apple falling from the tree
Then it hit the ground, its essence was set free
So for you or the apple, I had not cried.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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The Apple Tree Greed
he has an apple a green apple
he is the only person in this room
with a green apple
suppose suppose NOW
he has MORE of those at home
WHY he has a GREEN APPLE tree
In his backyard no WAIT
He has a vineyard behind his chapeau
And he makes green apple wine
And he sells it to the BOONES FARM people
And they make BOONES FARM green apple wine
And the whole city is soon sick
The children ralf and barf and ralf again
There is no more end to the men
Drinking all the green apple wine
To make this ONE person rich
He never offered me any of his wine
Eyes never drink of alcoholic beverage
Eye have juices and tea and a soda please
I'm just full of good intentions
Picking green apples in my mind and eating way too many
Having a green apple with mye lunch of poetical decay
WAIT he left and YES he took the green apple core with him
Not leaving me a bite not wanting me to taste the pleasure
of his mite. Why eye understand him greedy is his name
the green apple hoarder has so many apples now his wine cellar is so full and his larders aer so rich he does save the stems and seeds to plant again in ground so rich and he chews on this green apple while he watches MTV in selfish hedonistacal revenge while eye have no green apple stuck between my teeth OH bliss oh strang decay my teeth at least aer happier today he took the core away he left me all alone im appleless today im happier to say no song is being sung of little apples of the green variety been hung oh see the tree how big its grown the apples have been lost too long and they fall in misery from branches of decay to rot to rot to rot upon the vineyard floor there is no apple wine no more the green variety is gone they drink it only read and red is the color of the wine in cups so full of color there in plates so heaped of agony with applesauces vailiantly piled higher then the sky.
poem by Parme Hice
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Jealousy..A collection of 7 deadly sins
Resentment mixed with greed
Are the tunes she sings
From love and lust she bleed
On envy she feed
In human's core she live
Upset with what she loves
Envious of hearts possession
Dirtier than dirt
More twisted than a devil
It was her that corrupted him
And changed him into a rotten apple
Her song is a terrible thing
It opens a gate to other sins
This sour vindictive witch
Will push soul further from God
And straight into the fires of hell!
26th August 2009
All rights Eyan Desir
poem by Eyan Desir
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One rotten apple in the basket infects the whole.