The guests will go away, and we will eat the pasty.
Related quotes
The Maundy Thursday
In a feast the host must receive the guests
With humility. Else he is the beast
That relegates his guests as mere beggars.
Jesus washed guests' feet on Maundy Thursday.[before the feast]
25.03.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just to 'Hang' In There
We've all seen them rush,
To meet and greet new guests.
With impressions made.
And in fresh dress...
To do their best,
To be the ones addressed.
We've all seen them rush,
To meet and greet new guests.
Especially the ones who profess,
To be those righteous.
But disguising their true selves,
As pests who love to gossip.
We've all seen them rush,
To meet and greet new guests.
To get those same guests...
To get upset and leave.
And the actions of those responsible,
Seem as natural as the scenery.
If one is not in constant movement.
And movement is a required necessity.
For anyone who stays around.
And not just to 'hang' in there!
For the purpose to keep this reviewed,
With the same complaints to report...
On a daily basis.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Guests
One by one, the guests arrive
The guests are coming through
The open-hearted many
The broken-hearted few
And no one knows where the night is going
And no one knows why the wine is flowing
Oh love I need you
I need you
I need you
I need you
Oh . . . I need you now
And those who dance, begin to dance
Those who weep begin
And welcome, welcome cries a voice
Let all my guests come in.
And no one knows where the night is going ...
And all go stumbling through that house
In lonely secrecy
Saying do reveal yourself
Or why has thou forsaken me?
And no one knows where the night is going ...
All at once the torches flare
The inner door flies open
One by one they enter there
In every style of passion
And no one knows where the night is going ...
And here they take their sweet repast
While house and grounds dissolve
And one by one the guests are cast
Beyond the garden wall
And no one knows where the night is going ...
Those who dance, begin to dance
Those who weep begin
Those who earnestly are lost
Are lost and lost again
And no one knows where the night is going ...
One by the guests arrive
The guests are coming through
The broken-hearted many
The open-hearted few
And no one knows where the night is going ...
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm 5 foot 7, and I've got pasty white skin. I don't think I'm ugly, don't get me wrong, but I'm not your classic lead man, Brad Pitt guy.
quote by James McAvoy
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I refuse to be held responsible for bringing back a wave of pasty-faced people into the world.
quote by Brian Molko
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Page: Come, we have a hot venison pasty to dinner: come, gentlemen, I hope we shall drink down all unkindness.
line from The Merry Wives of Windsor, Act I, Scene 1 by William Shakespeare (1602)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Unwanted Guests
A mansion is built.
And unwanted guests,
Are reported to reside inside.
And there are those who claim,
This was not known.
Even though the unwanted guests,
Entertained, prepared the meals...
As well as took suggestions as to what to serve,
For choices of dessert.
And...
Tucked them all in bed at night!
To then leave,
On their own...
To wander freely around the mansion!
And yet,
It has been declared...
The guests who wandered freely around the mansion,
Were unwanted.
AND...
No one will admit,
They knew a mansion existed.
Nor have a clue who built it,
Or 'how' it got there.
I live on a fixed income.
And my every move is watched.
Even my approach to await a coming bus,
At a public bustop...
Is monitored as suspicious.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Maya, the illusion
Look back at your wedding.
Note down the guests.
Look back at your son’s.
Note down the guests.
Compare the lists
To know what illusion
The kith and ken are
No bond could ever exist,
some already extinct.
Now you know what Maya is.
04.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The latest lesson of my grandson
Four year old
Daughter's son
Just started talking
In some kind of comprehension
Returned from school
The other day
And there were some guests at home
Some of who were to
See our grandson first time
And it was my daughter's role
To introduce each
Of the guests
To her son
She is your aunty
Say 'Hi' to her
Which my grandson did
He is your 'Anna'
(Anna in Tamil means elder brother, it can be cousin too)
Say 'Hi' to him
Which my grandson did
This your grandma
Say 'Hi' to her
Which my grandson did
This went on
Till the time
All the guests were introduced
It is our practice
To give the child
A handwash immediately after
His retrun back home from school
And I took that charge
While I was helping him
In getting a wash
The fellow asked me
In a low voice like whisper
Are there no good person
Among our guests
Startled I asked him why
And he replied
Just today
School miss said
That all of us should
Grow to become a good person
Mom said these people are
Either grandpas, grandmas,
Uncles, Aunties, Annas or Akkas
But she said none
To be a good person
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Pasty Waste
When a voice comes back,
From its own enforced shackles.
A clarity is heard.
A strength renewed is welcomed.
And honesty again gushes,
Like an unstoppable geyser.
With an eliminating done,
Of pasty waste one accepts
To substitute one's taste.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Do No Tours
Where
Do you get all of this 'stuff' from?
'From the attic'
From the attic?
But
I don't see any attic
'And you wont
I am the only one that has the key
And in my 'home'
I do no tours
I do guests
And no tours do those guests get.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Guesses
Find the guesses you care for,
And solve any hindrances of the past;
The past has managed a relaxation,
Forming me and my guests.
The host is me and my name carried weight,
Hosts are like countries, of time,
They fit in a shape, in some people
There are guests who fit and replicate.
The fair man jostles in the crowd of worries,
Never does his friend keep the secret,
Just worries are in sight, in the hearing cloud,
Why do they craft me so grandly?
poem by Naveed Akram
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New Year 2012
At last year’s New Year bash in the ballroom at the hotel, had two
hundred guests, this year 45 guests and the room was chilly and
had melancholic echo of yesteryears. A luxury liners’ last voyage,
ready to be chopped into bit and sent to the voracious furnaces
of China’s famished thirsts for steel.
And we, the 45, where stalwarts from bygone epoch the last of
a shrinking middle class. Too many waiters, too many cooks, they
knew what was coming next, the dole. Who needs a flat footed
waiter or a cook you can’t teach new tricks?
Twelve o’clock we toasted one another but our joy rang hollow in
the big room. The party was supposed to continue till four in
the morning as it had before, most guests left quarter past twelve;
I can only hope the crew, we dastardly deserted, drank the wine
ate food we left behind and had a proper wake.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Anniversary
Birthdays when you are old reminds you of the grave,
you see it a freshly dug hole waiting just for you.
People bring you wine, what else do an old man needs?
Guests getting high on wine they brought you and it is all
jolly. I try to join in. wife has made an effort candlelight
and so on guests are people I never see unless meeting
them at a pretentious art exhibition; and I think of my
childhood when birthdays were important, I tell stories
of a past of poverty and need; wife disrupts saying
I should forget about the past, how can I it shaped me
for what I´m today? Cakes I think of are those I never had
in my infancy; cakes I baked, with condensed milk, when
the captain had his birthday -if he was an ass hole I spat in
the dough-, on ships made into nails somewhere in hot
Bangladesh. How tired I´m lost in the past. Guests leave
the old man´s party, but my wife is not stunned when calm
falls I have to collect the dirty glasses and do the dishes.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Muse on the visits
The land that you own and things in hand
Have come to you to stay as guests,
For a snap or sleep and would slip soon
From you against your wish and acts.
It’s not gentle for you to deny
The guests their freedom of movements.
What you own, be it land, things or friends,
Are your visitors, not prisioners.
You don’t get them; instead to you they come.
Their visits are joy and exits, sorrow.
The sorrow is the merit of the joy got.
Muse on their visits, not on their exits.
29.10.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cook Of The House
Ground rice, sugar, vinegar, seco salt, macaroni too,
Cook of the house,
Im the cook of the house.
No matter where I serve my guests,
They seem to like the kitchen best cause Im the cook of the house,
Cook of the house.
The salads in the bowl,
The rice is on the stove.
Green beans in the colander and where the res is heaven only knows.
Cinnamon, garlic, salt, pepper, corn-bread, curry powder, coffee too,
Cook of the house,
Im the cook of the house.
No, matter where I serve my guests,
They seem to like the kitchen best.
cause Im the cook of the house,
Cook of the house.
Where the rest is heaven only knows.
Matter where I serve my guests,
They seem to like the kitchen best cause Im the cook of the house.
Cook of the house,
Cook of the house,
Im the cook of the house.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't reserve the wealth for generations
If a person happens
to acquire wealth by RIGHTFUL means,
he should be generous to take food
- generated by ploughing his land
by oxen - with many guests and relatives!
However alert,
Wealth may not stay with one person with partiality,
It will move from person to person like a cart wheel!
(naalatiyaar - aRaththuppaal - selvam nilaiyaamai 2)
Hence, don't reserve the wealth for generations,
Help and utilise for charity, feed guests and relatives!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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Temporary Guests
Many believe and perceive,
Their beliefs are to keep...
Durable as if in concrete.
To stay frozen...
And remain intact.
No matter where the times are.
With a progressing to leave,
Nonbelievers in their tracks kept back.
And with unsatisfying results,
Their limited visions are insults...
To those who have run out of patience,
And empathy for those stuck...
In ruts others have given up.
To moved on with an accepting of facts.
Or wish to do so.
Without a feeling of remorse,
To sever the ties from the ones...
Who can not seem to live their lives in stages,
On this Earth.
Or can not divorce themselves from craving,
A taste for an exclusive foreverness...
Selected for a few to feed and greed.
This,
Reality...
That has a beginning which advances to an end,
Many can not accept,
Themselves as temporary guests.
But dictators to infest a manifesting of regression.
So hopeless are those with this mindset.
Seeking with a beating of their own regrets.
So hopeless are those with this mindset.
Seeking with a beating of their own regrets.
And, so hopeless are those with this mindset.
Not understanding they are here as temporary guests.
Seeking with a beating of their own regrets.
So hopeless are those with this mindset.
Seeking with a beating of their own regrets.
And, so hopeless are those with this mindset.
Not understanding they are here as temporary guests.
So hopeless are those with this mindset.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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4. Its Crackers
Twenty four gold Christmas crackers
Wrapped with a pretty red bow
Placed on the table for Christmas
To brighten things up don’t you know
All guests get seated together
With comments on such a fine spread
But should they pull crackers to start with
Or leave them till later instead
The children decide for the grown ups
Each one grabs a cracker and pull
Wide eyed they wait for the winners
But crackers were empty not full
Not one single comical riddle
A cheap plastic toy or crepe crown
All twenty four gold Christmas crackers
Left all of my guests with a frown
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Leave Me Alone
As for this song
Ill set the mood
Theres nothing wrong
Prefer solitude
Alone to think
Of what I dont know
The deeper I sink
The further Ill go
Nothing to fear
No need to hide
Im already there
Came in from outside
Safe in my nest
Home sweet home
No invited guests
I want to be alone
Leave me alone
Leave me alone
I wish you would
Leave me alone
Leave me alone
I just want to be alone
Its better this way
No one will get hurt
If you stay away
I wont lose my shirt
If I have become
Too defensive
Im not the one
You have to live with
Chorus
I want to be, I want to be
I want to be, alone
Dont feel sorry
Its not your concern
Only the lonely
Are the ones who get burned
Safe in my nest
Home sweet home
No invited guests
I want to be alone
song performed by by Extreme
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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