Onions, smoke, and a shrew, make a good man's eyes water.
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Sometimes
Sometimes,
The onions
Come to my rescue.
Sometimes, the
Choking on the food.
Sometimes, the smoke
From the firewood.
The tears in my eyes
Just wouldn’t stop
And I know the reason
Why.
But have to hide them
From my children.
If they ask me why,
I can’t tell them why.
Sometimes, hiding
Doesn’t work.
So if they see it,
They wonder why…
Then I tell them
Stories of how
Invisible particles
Prick my eyes.
So now, they just guess
It could be the onions,
The smoke, the particles
Or the choking that plagues
Mummy sometimes,
Don’t know why…
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Three things drive a man out of doors: smoke, dropping water, and a shrew.
Onions, smoke and women bring tears to your eyes.
Mighty mouse
A predator, the pygmy shrew?
It seems unlikely but it’s true.
To satisfy its appetite
this tiny scrap of dynamite
will tackle creatures twice its size.
They’re dead before they realise.
This little creature has to eat
twice its own body weight of meat.
On each and every single day.
the pygmy shrew’s no easy prey.
Some larger creatures find to their cost.
Make the attempt and find they’ve lost.
The pygmy shrew’s ferocity
means that he wins inevitably.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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I do not like onions. It's so funny because I am probably one of the least picky eaters ever. Pretty much any type of new food, I'll try it, I'll eat it. But onions, and pork. Pork and onions.
quote by Stacie Orrico
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Smoke On The Water
We all came out to montreux
On the lake geneva shoreline
To make records with a mobile
We didnt have much time
Frank zappa and the mothers
Were at the best place around
But some stupid with a flare gun
Burned the place to the ground
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky
They burned down the gambling house
It died with an awful sound
Funky claude was running in and out
Pulling kids out the ground
When it all was over
We had to find another place
But swiss time was running out
It seemed that we would lose the race
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky
We ended up at the grand hotel
It was empty cold and bare
But with the rolling truck stones thing just outside
Making our music there
With a few red lights and a few old beds
We make a place to sweat
No matter what we get out of this
I know well never forget
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fire By Night, Smoke By Day
It's fire by night and smoke by day
As we lay in our beds just thinking away
We wake in the morning to do what they say
It's fire by night and it's smoke by day
The sun starts to rise and the birds start to sing
We worry about what to do, what to wear and what to bring
We make a to-do list filled with everything
Just like the summer, the winter, the fall and the spring
Fire by night, smoke by day
There's nothing left to blow it away
Our day carries on as we're stuck to the clock
A slave to the ways of the tic and the toc
We carry a key but there isn't a lock
Trying to discover what is already lost
Fire by night, smoke by day
There's nothing left to blow it away
We wait for the water to wash it away
It's fire by night, smoke by day
Our thoughts start to wander as night settles in
Engaged in a fight we're not ready to win
As we wait for a new tomorrow to begin
The fire starts burning all over again
Fire by night, smoke by day
There's nothing left to blow it away
We wait for the water to wash it away
It's fire by night, smoke by day
poem by Navillus Tam
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041511P help your body
an eggplant covers my plate
fried with eggs, onions, garlic
could be omelette's from east
pack with fibers; good for me
with red chili pepper; little hot
i would be drinking water lots
i never forget to have cup of rice
could be a filler in my stomach
was told too much carbohydrates
but i do lots of physical events
tomorrow would be walking golf
yes exercise does body good
poem by Manonton Dalan
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Mrs Bryces Onions
mrs bryces onions
Unmentionable as from today
They say, they're turning grey
Once proud shiny roundy
To be foundy in most fertile groundies
Now rotten to the core
Mrs bryces onions are corrupted
DEAD
They are no more!
Withered battered shattered
cheated and defeated
by the flux of ever changing climes
No more the darling of affections
Left off from vegetable selections
In the glitzy superstore
Laid low and easily forgotten
Cos they're stinky black and rotten
Festering within the plot land
Mrs Bryces ONIONS, are no more!
poem by Yvette Smith
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Poetry AWOL
Poetry deserted me
with metaphor and simile.
So the rain fell like.......rain.
And onions were just onions.
No response in Lost and Found.
I miss them now they're not around.
poem by Fiona Lochhead
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Cold water
Water is cold water is wet,
Water is cold and can be a big mess...
Water is a teer dropp running down your cheek,
Water is the stuff that makes you feel weak...
Water can be good if you feel down,
Water can be bad if you don't come back around...
Water is a thing that can make you feel cold,
Water is a thing that can make you be bold...
Water is a cold, cold thing,
Everyone has water running through them...
poem by Alexandra Greif
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Market Women’s Cries
APPLES
COME buy my fine wares,
Plums, apples and pears.
A hundred a penny,
In conscience too many:
Come, will you have any?
My children are seven,
I wish them in Heaven;
My husband ’s a sot,
With his pipe and his pot,
Not a farthen will gain them,
And I must maintain them.
ONIONS
Come, follow me by the smell,
Here are delicate onions to sell;
I promise to use you well.
They make the blood warmer,
You’ll feed like a farmer;
For this is every cook’s opinion,
No savoury dish without an onion;
But, lest your kissing should be spoiled,
Your onions must be thoroughly boiled:
Or else you may spare
Your mistress a share,
The secret will never be known:
She cannot discover
The breath of her lover,
But think it as sweet as her own.
HERRINGS
Be not sparing,
Leave off swearing.
Buy my herring
Fresh from Malahide,
Better never was tried.
Come, eat them with pure fresh butter and mustard,
Their bellies are soft, and as white as a custard.
Come, sixpence a dozen, to get me some bread,
Or, like my own herrings, I soon shall be dead.
poem by Jonathan Swift
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Time's Two Faces
A clock has one face, but time has two…
One is of hope: the other a shrew.
I strain at the pinnacle in sight of both ways.
One is of past years; the other mere days.
As I squint for a better view of the days,
The apex slants more towards the shrew's gaze.
My only chance lies in a much slower pace,
Hoping to enjoy days before they change face.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Everyday Is The Environment Day
Once streams, now they are drains.
Once rivers, now they are drains.
Sewage goes from where water comes.
Excreta go from where water comes.
Once fields, now they are of smoke.
Once cities, now they are of smoke.
Smoke goes from where breath-air comes.
Carbon fills the air looking for plants.
Sewage unaddressed, carbons unaddressed,
No amount of environment savings
Could bail out the earth. The Environment Day
Must be everyday and not a tokenism.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Looking for Water
Still the leaves are spinning 'round
Take my hand as we go down, and down, and down
Looking for water
Well, our light's gone in a New York minute
Don't know about you, but my heart's not in it
(Looking, looking, looking)
I'm looking for water
I'm looking for water
(Looking, looking, looking)
I can't breathe the air, can't raise a fact
'Cause all we've got left is a beat in the night, and I'm
(Looking for water)
Looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
Take my hand as we go down, and down
Leave it all behind, nothing could be found
(I'm, looking for water)
I'm looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
(I, looking for water)
Looking everywhere
(Looking for water)
Looking here and there
(I'm looking for water)
I'm looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I can't live in this cage, I can't eat this candy
The edge of the earth to the spin in my head
The look in your eyes and never means never
The dawn's early light, baby, dark is forever
(Looking, looking)
(Looking, looking)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
song performed by by David Bowie, music by David Bowie, lyrics by David Bowie from Reality
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Chance Lost
Last chance lost--
In the tyranny of a long good-bye
Last chance lost--
We talk of us with deadly earnest eyes
Last chance lost--
We talk of love in terms of sacrifice and compromise
Last chance--
Last chance lost
Last chance lost--
The hero cannot make the change
Last chance lost--
The shrew will not be tamed
Last chance lost--
They bicker on the rifle range
Blame takes aim
Last chance--
Last chance lost
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There are three things from which no good can be got without a beating: a walnut-tree, a donkey, and a shrew.
Appearance
Vapor cloud
Smoke ice
And water
And all water.
Tree bird
Animal earth
Man insects
Stone air
And you are
My dear.
I am only here
To remember
To surrender
And before you
Just to appear
And I am on line
When you to appear
It is your appearance
That make me clear.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Whitering Tears
water water from my eyes why do you come when i cry
water water from my eyes why do you hurt when i cry
water water that falls from eyes sinks through my skin and cuts my heart
you taste like lost and hurt love and saltyness when i cry
Smoke
Smoke
From the Saga Island smoke rose. flames and rivers ran full of
icy water; the modern Vikings had been beaten and shamed.
Cold winter, summer roses are grey and leaves on trees have
taken on an autumnal hue. Clouds of ashes drifting south day
is night the world has lost it colour and cinemas only show
black& white movies.
East the smoke is black and smells of cordite and bulldozed
buildings. Poor Palestine it is not a state, but a dream, which
trashed people try to make into a reality. Moslems, Christians
and righteous Jews, the world belongs to us, to have peace
there must be fairness. Oops! Before my eyes another house is
razed to the ground, dust is blinding me.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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