Related quotes
Test My Appetite
Some prefer and choose perfection,
To convey ideals...
Promoted to instill.
With a showing of a knowledge...
In a hope that this appeals.
And then there are those,
Who have chosen to be real.
Grounded and solid of sound minds.
To find they are critiqued...
By those of the pretentious kind.
'It is not proper etiquette,
To dip biscuits in stew.'
~Hey...
I am here to eat.
Not to see what others do.
And IF you're looking for a silver spoon.
To eat your stew?
You go and do that.
And my biscuits will be in your stew too!
In these times,
I will nourish first...
Before rehearsing any refinement,
I've learned from the past.
But today does not work.~
'It is not proper etiquette,
To dip biscuits in stew.'
~Hey...
I am here to eat.
Not to see what others do.
And IF you're looking for a silver spoon.
To eat your stew?
You go and do that.
And my biscuits will be in your stew too!
Go ahead!
Test my appetite!
I dare you.
Leave that stew.
And I'll show you what can be done with it.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
One Meat Ball
(l. singer-h.zaret)
The little man walked up and down
To find an eating place in town
He read the menu through and through
To see what fifteen cents could do
One meat ball, one meat ball
Well, he could afford but one meat ball
He told the waiter near at hand
A simple dinner he had planned
The guests were startled one and all to hear
That waiter loudly call
One meat ball, one meat ball
Well, this here gent wants one meat ball
Little man felt very bad
One meat ball was all he had
And in his dreams he hears that call
Ya gets no bread with one meat ball
One meat ball, one meat ball
Well, you get no bread with one meat ball
Well, he could afford but one meat ball
One meat ball, one meat ball
All he could afford was one meat ball
One meat ball
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
For Molly, Concerning God
Is God the one who eats the meat
off the bones of dead people?
-Molly Miranda Jong-Fast, age 3 1/2
God is the one,
Molly,
whether we call him
Him,
or Her,
treeform or spewing
volcano,
Vesuvius or vulva,
penis-rock,
or reindeer-on-cave-wall,
God is the one
who eats
our meat,
Molly,
& we yield
our meat
up willingly.
Meat is our
element,
meat is our
lesson.
When our bodies fill
with each other,
when our blood swells
in our organs
aching for another,
body of meat,
heart of meat,
soul of meat,
we are only doing
what God wants
us to—
meat joining meat
to become insubstantial air,
meat fusing
with meat
to make
a small wonder
like you.
The wonder of you
is that you push
our questions
along into
the future—
so that I know
again
the wonder of meat
through you,
the wonder of meat
turning to philosophy,
the wonder of meat
transubstantiated
into poetry,
the wonder of
sky-blue meat
in your roundest eyes,
the wonder of
dawn-colored meat
in your cheeks & palms,
the wonder of meat
becoming
air.
You
are my theorem,
my proof,
my meaty metaphysics,
my little questioner,
my small Socrates
of the nursery-schoolyard.
To think that
such wonder
can come from meat!
Well then,
if God is hungry—
let Him eat,
let Her eat.
poem by Erica Jong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Don’t be cheap
Buy not a thing because it’s cheap.
Don’t let others make you cheap.
To be greedy is to be cheap.
To be selfish is to be cheap.
To poke your nose is a cheap thing.
Don’t be cheap; better be poor.
23.08.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Street-Cheap-Meat
You've given me up to boost danger.
A mistake made with a stranger.
Who knocked on your door proposing,
With a cut glass rock and plated gold.
And street-cheap-meat!
Oh...
You've given me up to boost danger.
A mistake made with a stranger.
Who knocked on your door proposing,
With a cut glass rock and plated gold.
Our minds were united,
And tight for a lifetime.
We sought for that right time...
When we'd be together,
Forever and ever.
Our minds were united,
And tight for a lifetime.
We sought for that right time...
When we'd be together,
Forever and ever.
But,
You've given me up to boost danger.
A mistake made with a stranger.
Who knocked on your door proposing,
With a cut glass rock and plated gold.
And street-cheap-meat!
Oh...
Our minds were united,
And tight for a lifetime.
We sought for that right time...
When we'd be together,
Forever and ever.
But you prefer street-cheap-meat.
Our minds were united,
And ripe for that lifetime.
But you prefer street-cheap-meat.
Our minds were united,
And ripe for that lifetime.
But you prefer street-cheap-meat.
Our minds were united,
And ripe for that lifetime.
But you prefer street-cheap-meat.
Our minds were united,
And ripe for that lifetime.
But you prefer street-cheap-meat.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Brother And Sister
"SISTER, sister, go to bed!
Go and rest your weary head."
Thus the prudent brother said.
"Do you want a battered hide,
Or scratches to your face applied?"
Thus his sister calm replied.
"Sister, do not raise my wrath.
I'd make you into mutton broth
As easily as kill a moth"
The sister raised her beaming eye
And looked on him indignantly
And sternly answered, "Only try!"
Off to the cook he quickly ran.
"Dear Cook, please lend a frying-pan
To me as quickly as you can."
And wherefore should I lend it you?"
"The reason, Cook, is plain to view.
I wish to make an Irish stew."
"What meat is in that stew to go?"
"My sister'll be the contents!"
"Oh"
"You'll lend the pan to me, Cook?"
"No!"
Moral: Never stew your sister.
poem by Lewis Carroll
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Factrory Food
Factory Made Food.
A perfect microwave dinner for one
sunrays drink from the wine bottle
The dinner is tasteless,
and the rest of the wine is warm
as a cat licks its paw and has no worry
about the morrow.
Who invented tuna fish with mashed potatoes?
It must be someone without a mother,
or if he had one, she must have been
a busy executive and time poor.
At the orphanage they eat left over of dinners
they never had, forever made into a stew
children do not care; yester-days loaf.
He sits in his mansion, count his money and
think of other variety of frozen food he can
invented preferable something that looks
looks like vomit.
He is a vegetarian and hate mankind for
liking meat…he hates greedy little children too
even his own, serves them burger made of
fat full of sugar and salt.
Knows he will follow them to the grave and
be the longest living man on earth.
Who the hell drank my wine?
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
So What Are You Saying?
I am emotionally distraught.
But I will get over my anxieties.
'Good.'
What do you mean, 'Good'.
Aren't you going to express,
Some kind of empathy?
Some kind of emotional attachment?
'What did you expect?
Weeping?
Or a prolong sympathetic eulogy,
For the attempt you are making...
To escape a near death experience? '
Well...
Yes! Something close that shows,
I am more to you than a piece of meat!
'It's like this...
When that piece of meat heals.
And is ready for my tenderizing?
I'll toss in an ember or two in that flame.'
So what are you saying?
'When the meal is ready and prepared the way I like it...
I'll show more interest.
But I'm not accepting anything leftover that has occured,
Over and over and over to leave it tasteless!
That's what I'm saying! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Me-Stew
I have nothing to put in my stew, you see,
Not a bone or a bean or a black-eyed pea,
So I'll just climb in the pot to see
If I can make a stew out of me.
I'll put in some pepper and salt and I'll sit
In the bubbling water--I won't scream a bit.
I'll sing while I simmer, I'll smile while I'm stewing,
I'll taste myself often to see how I'm doing.
I'll stir me around with this big wooden spoon
And serve myself up at a quarter to noon.
So bring out your stew bowls,
You gobblers and snackers.
Farewell--and I hope you enjoy me with crackers!
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Poet's Mind To You
The drinking of wine and the eating of meat,
Your red stew is sweet and your lovely meat is tasty;
But incline your ear to me and come to me,
For i am like the spider with a poet's mind to you.
The mystery name of Saturn is like a message to you,
For the watchmen upon the walls of love are all asleep;
So wake up my love and live now with the truth around you.
The heavens are higher than the earth and like,
A poet's mind to you at this side of the river;
But wake up and be aware of the things around you,
And like my thoughts and my mind towards you!
Why do you labour for that which will not satisfy you?
Oh dyed garments of Bozrah! !
For the healing prophetess is at hand;
And i will see you when the rain comes in.
Swell with joy and hope for your dreams,
For all the trees will clap their hands when you succeed!
But the pagan symbols through the deep are about to stop you,
And like the intiation rites for a chief in your homeland.
This is a poet's mind to you,
But Herod's birthday brought the head of john on a plate;
And my ways and thoughts will surely wake you up one day.
You are upon a lofty and a high mountain without a clue,
And as a young man marries a virgin girl;
But like Pharaoh's birthday with a dream,
The rain came down like the snow in the winter time.
Why should you spend money on what is not bread?
And like the lightening which is accompanied by the rain;
For your red stew is very sweet and your meat is very tasty,
But the watchmen upon the walls of love are all asleep.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
If you buy cheap meat, you'll smell what you have saved when it boils.
If you buy cheap meat, when it boils you smell what you have saved.
If a man looks upon your wife pluck out his eye and cook it in a goodly stew. If he eats the stew his manhood will wither and fall off in the next moon.
Meat & Potato Man
Meat and potato man
I like my steak well done, my taters fried
Football games on monday night
Its just who I am
A meat and potato man
I like my coffee black
Oltv shows
My women hot and my beer ice cold
Its just who I am
A meat and potato man
I dont like caviar, sushi bars,
The irs or phony stars
Im a haggard fan
A meat and potato man
I like my fishinholes, lightninbugs
Flatt nscruggs, and my womans love
Its just who I am
A meat and potato man
I like my wrangler jeans, cowboy boots
Cornbread and beans and country roots
Its just who I am
A meat and potato man
I dont like politics, hypocrites
Folks with poodles dressed like kids
Im a hounddog fan
A meat and potato manyeah, thats what I am,
A meat and potato man
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Meat And Potato Man
meat and potato man
I like my steak well done, my taters fried
Football games on monday night
Its just who i am
A meat and potato man
I like my coffee black
Oltv shows
My women hot and my beer ice cold
Its just who i am
A meat and potato man
I dont like caviar, sushi bars,
The irs or phony stars
Im a haggard fan
A meat and potato man
I like my fishinholes, lightninbugs
Flatt nscruggs, and my womans love
Its just who i am
A meat and potato man
I like my wrangler jeans, cowboy boots
Cornbread and beans and country roots
Its just who i am
A meat and potato man
I dont like politics, hypocrites
Folks with poodles dressed like kids
Im a hounddog fan
A meat and potato manyeah, thats what i am,
A meat and potato man
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Devil Banker
take the money you have years to pay
take the money its the easy way
take 5yrs dont matter when you pay
take the money i will collect from you all one day
devil is waiting at the bank gates
wants your soul for the credit you take
money on the cheap for your soul
thats the price for the mortgage your sold
then take my house leave me out in the cold
the devil is the banker he hides behind the suite
lives in his office our soul he will recruit
promises of money on the cheap
but he will take interest he wants his pound of meat
poem by John Mc Cudden
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Over Use
A quote goes cheap if over used.
A queen goes cheap if over seen.
A guest goes cheap if overstayed.
Otherwise also they’ll expire stale
(26.06.2011)
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!