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Stake Stake Stake
Stake, stake, stake,
on the green felt fabric thrown, -
the croupiers, awake,
the players, weary, grown.
O well for the novice who
can cash in lucky play,
O ill for the gambler too,
rash not to end his stay
as the golden chips go on
back to stack within the till, -
but O for the touch of a vanish’d hand,
and woe for the crushing bill!
Stake, stake, stake,
while a camera all can see,
records both banks which break,
and counts accounts’ red plea!
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Beans (Fun Poem 70)
Out of all the vegetables we eat,
beans are the musical of the lot.
They sometimes give out a little squeak
and sometimes a cannon’s roar
or the rat-a-tat-a-tat of a machine-gun flair.
They are known as a wind instruments of the vegetable world.
When they play,
their revelries with a pungent air
there is no denying it
beans are good for you.
They keep your enemies at bay;
sadly, they also keep your friends as well.
Everyone gets out of the way,
when they hear the trumpet play.
27 March 2008
poem by David Harris
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Stakes don’t alter the interest.
Children play cards with no stakes,
Street-men does with low stake and
Gamblers with high stake. The spirit
With which each group plays is same
06.03.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Jelly Beans
I love my jelly beans
I even love machines
That make my jelly beans
Red, pink, purple, and blue
I will all chew
If only you knew
I'd even eat them out of my shoe
One bean, two beans, three beans, a million
I'd even eat one hundred billion
I'd eat them non stop
I'd eat them right in the candy shop
I'd eat them until my tummy would pop
You can never have to many
I never heard of anyone that didn't have any
People always have plenty
Eat until I don't have anymore
Always wish I had some more...
...Back to my candy drawer
poem by Claude Davis III
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Beans
Beans, beans, beans
Jessie had some beans
He was happy, happy, happy
And he ate some beans
Naked, naked, naked
Sitting cross-legged
Naked, naked, naked
And he was happy, happy, happy
And he ate some beans
Wine, wine, wine
Jessie had some wine
He was happy, happy, happy
And he ate some wine
Beans, beans, beans
Daddy ate some beans
And he drank some wine
And he was happy, happy, happy
As he drank some beans
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gambol (a ghazal)
Received and given, preening doves
in courtship sway, they play for love.
Children bouncing balls off walls,
a ricochet they play for love.
Sculptors stories live in folds
of molded clay they play for love.
Gamblers stake to make or break
in rash parley they play for love.
Newlyweds on feather beds
in hideaways, they play for love.
Chiropractors whack the cracks
on vertebrae they play for love.
Glissandi slip from fingertips,
a strummed segue they play for love.
Scrabble rivals settle scores
in worded fray they play for love.
Shady names inflame with games
in sobriquet, they play for love.
Players love and lovers play
I love to play, I play for love.
poem by Diane Hine
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Why? In loneliness we keep doing things
like lima beans,
loneliness ripens and from its pods
things begin to drop
soundlessly on top of the grass
the season change
and the pods rot and the beans dry in the sun
and gets wet in the rain
and then something sprouts again
another form of lonely lima beans
grow on the soil
loneliness begets loneliness
and forever keeps the cycle
the world knows this
in fact, it is this that keeps it going.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I like refried beans. That's why I wanna try fried beans, because maybe they're just as good and we're just wasting time. You don't have to fry them again after all.
quote by Mitch Hedberg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stop
she wants me
to stop spilling the beans
she wants to cook
all of them
with a little salt and seasoning
she begs
that we dine together
and eat all those
jelly beans
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Chocolate Factory
he said:
''My business statement is:
fair trade of beans....chocolate beans,
fair trade of kisses between lovers....not only in Valentine day...,
fair trade of chocolate beans like nipples....''
poem by Atef Ayadi
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Not Into Game Play
Not into game play.
Not even 'if' I sense it with,
A new arrival.
Someone who elects to question,
From hidden places.
To play hide and seek.
Not me.
I am not into game play.
Not today when times are the way they are.
Not with adults who like to keep their lives,
Disguised while they decide to moralize and criticize.
Not when my peace of mind is at stake.
Not into game play.
Not at all.
Even 'if' I should sense it beginning.
With someone fresh.
But choosing to have me jump through hoops.
To see how far they can get.
Before they notice it...
I have left!
I am not into game play.
Not me.
Not today!
Not that way.
Not for me anyway.
At least not like that.
Not to sit and listen to tit for tat tales.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Pork-n-Beans
Pork-n-Beans, a favorite food of any renaissance man
Afterwards, you may want to turn on the exhaust fan
I like them hot as the capital of Sudan
I like them cold straight out of the can
Pork-n-Beans are a culinary delight
Give me great pleasure with each bite
If I could, I'd dine on them every night
Handy for the refrigerator raid at midnight
Pork-n Beans should be kept readily on hand
Nuclear fallout shelter...keep them canned
Zombie attack...snack while making a stand
In-laws visit...for a evening meal unplanned
poem by Charles Hancock
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Beans Taste Fine
Now a friend of mine, way back in Chicago
You know, he finally made his pile.
Well he got himself a mansion on Butler and Sheff
An' he was livin' in the latest style;
But I run into him, he was eatin' in a greasy spoon
While parkled in front was his big limousine.
I said, 'Buddy, you've got so much money
How come youre in here, eatin' beans?'
An' he said
'After you've been havin' steak for a long time,
Beans, beans taste fine.
An' after you've been drinkin' champagne and brandy
You gonna settle for wine.'
He said 'The world is funny, and people are strange,
And man is a creature of constant change, and
After you've been havin' steak for a long time
Beans, beans taste fine.'
Now, you know I ran into another friend of mine
In a rowdy old Clark Street Bar.
I said, 'Friend, is it true what I heard about you?
I heard you married a beautiful 18-year-old shapely movie star,
Yet here you sit, tryin' to make out with some barfly
Who's too old and ugly to be true.'
He said, 'Shelley, you're still a very young man
So sit down. I'll explain it all to you.
He said
'After you've been havin' steak for a long time
Beans, beans taste fine.
An' after you've been drinkin' champagne and Chivas Regal
You gonna settle for Thunderbird wine.'
He said 'The world is funny, and people are strange,
And man is a creature of constant change, and
After you've been havin' steak for a long time
Beans, beans taste fine.'
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Buttered Beans
If you don't want them,
Don't waste my buttered beans.
Roast peppers and the onions,
Makes them tasty.
Don't play with the food I prepare.
If you don't want to eat..
Get up from the table.
Don't stay there...
Staring into the plate like you don't care.
'The signs have been outrageously,
Flickering in neon.'
You could at least eat the salad.
Something to nourish you.
You are not going to save the world.
People will do,
What they do and choose.
'The signs have been outrageously,
Flickering in neon.
It's unbelievable they can not see,
What around them is going on! '
I have yet to see that movie 'Avatar'.
I've read the special effects are great.
That director, James Cameron...
Hits a homerun,
Everytime he's up to the plate.
To eat buttered beans,
With roasted peppers.
There is olives and corn in there too!
'I saw this homeless family,
Sitting on a bench right downtown.
You should have seen the looks,
Of the people who passed them.
Many disgusted.
Most with frowns.'
I baked the meatloaf with breadcrumbs.
And I added soysauce to the mix.
If I were you,
I'd remove those scenes right now.
Whatever you do,
People are not going to accept your point of view.
'What on Earth are you talking about? '
Buttered Beans!
I try to keep what's on my menu,
Simple!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We Prefer 'Butter' Beans
What do I contribute to my being tenacious?
A dislike for lima beans.
It seems as if my sister, Mimmie, and I...
Ate them everyday.
And my mother would say to us...
'Be thankful for what you've got.
Some people aren't even eating that.'
To say to us...
Times then were 'meager'.
'So eat and shut up.'
Well,
That was many years ago.
Long before my younger sisters, Tammy and Lisa...
Acquired a craving for those weekly 'Grinder' sandwiches,
Our dad would buy for them.
And they would cling onto them as if they possessed,
Fort Knox.
And Tammy would look at me,
As 'if' I had better not...
Ask for a piece to taste.
She's the one most opionated.
To this very day,
My sister, Mim and I can not stand lima beans!
But...
For some reason,
We prefer 'butter' beans.
And...
You can not tell us,
They are the same thing as those 'limas'.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Tastes Like Sugar
Black beans and white beans,
Pine, vine, dine, fine, cine, nine, mine, wine, sine, tine;
But it tastes like sugar!
So don't eat much to run your stomach,
For the confidential reign is all about your hidden love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Chit Chat That You Patter
Don't be too late.
Or make me wait my patience's gone.
Don't be too late.
So much at stake I've bet on.
Don't be too late.
Or make me wait my patience's gone.
Don't be too late.
So much at stake I've bet on.
It's not about my cool,
You depend and count on.
Or a chit chat that you patter fast.
You depend and count on.
And it's not about 'rules'...
To change as if,
I'm a game that you play.
It's not about the rules.
Or that chit chat that you patter.
It's not about my cool.
Since to you that doesn't matter.
As long as I stay...
A game that you play.
Don't be too late.
It's not about my cool.
Or make me wait.
This is not about who rules.
So much at stake,
You will never realize because you've never sacrificed.
It's not about my cool.
Or a chit chat that you patter fast.
Or none you will identify...
As if to you it matters.
It's not about the rules.
Or deciding you will change your mind,
Whenever I give you my time.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In A Can
sitting in my old chair
on the porch breaking
green beans... waiting
on the storm.
wind whips through the trees,
a streak of lightning, occasional
thunder... breaking beans.
thinking about my grandparents,
working down at the mill...
farming, grew four gardens...
cows, pigs, chickens, and
turkeys...
no one ever went hungry
there... no one around them
went hungry...
there was always food to eat,
and work to be done....
but that day has come and gone....
now we work on computers,
or dont work at all....
and most young people think
chickens come from the meat
section... and...
green beans come in a can....
no wonder we're hungry!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Hard to coax
A reasonable stake is enough.
A vine is content with that.
The stronger stake cannot coax it.
Wives being such, men live in peace.
09.08.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Jelly Beans
By the counter of the candy store
several small rumpled heads
are jumping up and down in joy.
They hear the store keeper's tread.
' What do you want? ' is the cry.
The moment he is in sight,
and if their tiny hands are penniless,
How embarrassing the plight.
They eagerly purchase the jelly beans,
They barely get outside
before they open the packages
and have them open wide.
An assortment of jelly beans is enough
to bring forth elated sounds of joy.
Such candy items it takes to please
a small girl or boy.
Oh! Could we all but remember
when the days of youth have fled,
the appreciation in the small things
like jelly beans - green, black, and red.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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