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Little Red Apples
Out of Mother Nature
Came little red Apples'
That were grown
In the Garden of time
But God don't like
Little red Apples'
From which the Devil does dine
Women love to eat little red Apples'
In the Summer time
Men desire little red Apples'
Any old time
Winter, Summer, especially
When the Sun is high
In a clear blue Sky
The Devil does love
Little red Apples'
Man does love
Little red Apples'
Women love
Little red Apples'
poem by Allan James Saywell
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I think one of the geniuses of Bound and The Matrix and Memento is the complete collaboration of the effort. There were no rotten apples.
quote by Joe Pantoliano
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From memory tree
rotten apples fall as pall
rises future free.
haiku by Jonathan Robin (27 April 2010)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Apples And Oranges
Got a flip-top pack of cigarettes in her pocket
Feeling good at the top
Shopping in sharp shoes
Walking in the sunshine town feeling very cool
But the butchers and the bakers in the supermarket stores
Getting everything she wants from the supermarket stores
Apples and oranges
Apples and oranges
Cornering neatly she trips up sweetly
To meet the people
She's on time again
And then
I catch her by the eye then I stop and have to think
What a funny thing to do 'cause I'm feeling very pink
Apples and oranges
Apples and oranges
I love she
She loves me
See you
See you
Thought you might like to know
I'm the lorry driver man
She's on the run
Down by the river side
feeding ducks in the afternoon tide
(quack quack)
Apples and oranges
Apples and oranges
Apples and oranges
song performed by by Pink Floyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Apples & Oranges
Got a flip-top pack of cigarettes in her pocket
Feeling good at the top
Shopping in sharp shoes
Walking in the sunshine town feeling very cool
But the butchers and the bakers in the supermarket stores
Getting everything she wants from the supermarket stores
Apples and oranges
Apples and oranges
Cornering neatly she trips up sweetly
To meet the people
Shes on time again
And then
I catch her by the eye then I stop and have to think
What a funny thing to do cause Im feeling very pink
Apples and oranges
Apples and oranges
I love she
She loves me
See you
See you
Thought you might to know
Im the lorry driver man
Shes on the run
Down by the river side
Feeding ducks by the afternoon tide
(quack quack)
Apples and oranges
Apples and oranges
Apples and oranges
song performed by by Pink Floyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Watching Mother
Your mother is peeling apples
for the apple pie
and you stand watching her
and say can I have some peelings?
Sure she says
it’s probably the best part anyway
and you notice she has tears in her eyes
and wonder if the old man
has had a go at her again
like that time over the camera
and her saying jokingly
you look like some tourist
in upstate New York
and he thumped her one
and her lip bled
and you stood watching
keeping your mouth shut
but wanting to go at him
but you being too small
stood still
and as she peels the apples
you watch her hands
go over the apples
with a skill of years of experience
and you watch as the tears
run down the side of her nose
and fall like raindrops
on to her busy hands
and you focus like some artist
at the way that they land.
poem by Terry Collett
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He Prefers Pears
Apples may be the fruit of choice.
But the chef says he prefers pears in his kitchen.
'Are you ready to order?
Or would you rather find a more suitable view?
The chef wouldn't mind at all!
Afterall...
How did you know we were here?
Someone made to you
Our menu clear!
If not by taste...
Certainly by a choice that was voiced?
Quality here is our adventure.
With a hint of heat to leave you moist! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Apples of Hesperides
Glinting golden through the trees,
Apples of Hesperides!
Through the moon-pierced warp of night
Shoot pale shafts of yellow light,
Swaying to the kissing breeze
Swings the treasure, golden-gleaming,
Apples of Hesperides!
Far and lofty yet they glimmer,
Apples of Hesperides!
Blinded by their radiant shimmer,
Pushing forward just for these;
Dew-besprinkled, bramble-marred,
Poor duped mortal, travel-scarred,
Always thinking soon to seize
And possess the golden-glistening
Apples of Hesperides!
Orbed, and glittering, and pendent,
Apples of Hesperides!
Not one missing, still transcendent,
Clustering like a swarm of bees.
Yielding to no man's desire,
Glowing with a saffron fire,
Splendid, unassailed, the golden
Apples of Hesperides!
poem by Amy Lowell
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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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Rotten bastards
The lot of you.
All of you
You are all rotten bastards.
And I hate you all
All of you
Raped and abused me.
But what goes around comes around.
And revenge will be mine.
Rotten bastards.
You rotten rats.
Rape and abuse.
Is that all you can do?
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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These Apples
I am an open book to your heart,
I am the mirror that you look at daily;
Come and touch this sweet apples of mine.
I am the mirror of your love and,
My sweet apples are nicely prepared for you only;
Come and taste these apples.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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From A Suggested But Wrong Tree
They've been reaching to grab apples,
From a suggested but wrong tree.
They chose to accept,
Their own offerings not as competitive.
And...
Their own apples just as sweet.
And far more delicious to nourish and eat.
They have been conditioned to ignore,
The brightness of their own colors...
Many others said they adored.
Letting those apples dropp and rot.
Only to discover too late,
The weakness of their branches...
That could have sustained them to enhance.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Fruitful Hill
Small works, Big City;
Big works, Small City;
Like the tale of two cities.
Here comes the Bride and the bridegroom,
True love is sweeter than honey;
I am on the fruitful hill with words.
Sauerkraut on my table,
true love is sweeter than the honeycomb;
Yes, a virtuous woman is a crown to her husband.
Apples of gold,
A kiss on the lips;
Beyond the River of Ethiopia.
Like the choicest vine,
Life on the fruitful hill;
The day of the wedding crowns it all.
The purple rain,
The purple cushion,
A fruit so sweet to my taste;
Refresh me with sweet apples.
The gold of Sheba,
The fruit of Lebanon,
Let the earth be glad around you;
Flaming fire,
Swarms of flies,
Let the heavens rejoice around you;
Big works, Small City;
Small works, Big City;
A tale of two cities with the love of a muse,
The humble shall see and rejoice always.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Fame Winston
Fame is
the virtue of
Notoriety
Soon you will
find
focus lights
hurt
People stink
like rotten
apples
Names disperse
like vapor
Stay put
in the Luxuries
of your
Privacy
One name is
Enough
and there will
be no confusion
A home is where
Only you live
in Peace
Buy your own
Camera just in case
you need a face.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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About The Scissor
yes there was this scissor
on the window
one night looking at the moon
asking if
somewhere it can cut
the darkness
and allow so much light
to pass through
the covered walls
the bats flew feeding on
some rotten star-apples
the moon as usual sitting on the pond
seeing its reflection
undisturbed by the ripples of the fish
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Something Rotten
It seems were here i
Miss you something rotten
The stinks are here
Its guaranteed alls forgotten
Down here
Down here its clear that your uncut
Dont fear
Dont fear, keep all this forgotten
Face down
Face down
Face down, I miss you something rotten
Face down
Face down, this crown is broken rotten
Down here, down here, I know its not, its all forgotten
Down here, down here, face down, I miss you something rotten
Down here, down here, it stinks, it stinks of something rotten
Dont fear, dont fear, keep all this forgotten
Theres something rotten down here
Theres something rotten down here
Theres something rotten down here
Theres something rotten down here...
song performed by by Placebo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Budget reflects a choice - not an easy choice, but the right choice. And when you think about it, the only choice. The choice to take the responsible, prudent path to fiscal stability, economic growth and opportunity.
quote by George E. Pataki
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dirty Rotten Shame
I recall the good old days
But thankfully, theyve gone
Now the ponies all are broken nags
That stumble as they groan
And throw the jockeys from their throne
When there are pitches left to dodge
And lions left to tame
But its nothing but a dirty rotten shame
Its a dirty rotten shame
That when youre frivolous and strong
It isnt youth, its fearlessness
That has been wasted on the young
The cruel are in the cradle
And the bishops in the bag
Its nothing but a dirty rotten shame
Now I find life a millionaire
That brags for rags and jewels
A snarling pup is wild enough
But as his anger proves
Hes left to sharpen useless tools
That tear and graze and finer phrase
But few are worth the name
Its nothing but a dirty rotten shame
Its a dirty rotten shame
And that is not an idle boast
When all your courage and your strength
Will leave you as you need it most
When there are lamps to dampen
And cauliflowers to flip
Its nothing but a dirty rotten shame
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Review
the tree was loaded with apples
in the garden of Eden
and Eve was so Hungry
for apples she always dreamed of apples
even if Adam is just beside her
that jejune
she is the first jejemon,
and on that day when God was not watching
when the Snake was merely behaving like a Snake
she touches an apple
her dream
and he ate one and Adam so likes it
she takes a bite...
nothing new really, just a pass and review
of their story that we believe without any question at all
the moral lesson: reflect on ourselves, we are the consistent
gullible readers
we are never original on this.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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