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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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Java Plums
those java plums
are sweet
and round and glossy
and by all means
attractive to the
palate
i am very thirsty
and you leave it on my
table and you
expect me to be just like them all
eat the plums without you
i have forgiven you
i am not eating them
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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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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Those Sugarcoating Days
The last time I had the opportunity,
To sugarcoat anything...
I was a child making candied apples.
From a family recipe,
My West Indian mother, Edna, taught me.
With a dipping of the apples in the mix.
To then let them sit,
In the icebox.
And my sister Mimmie and I,
Were left to get impatient.
During those days when the iceman came,
With blocks of ice.
And the milk and soda was delivered to our door.
Leaving those sugarcoating days,
Not to exist for me any more.
With a wish for them to return..
I do not do.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fruit Tree
Twilight, soon it will be dark, sparrows are flying back, god knows
where they have been. A flock meet in my plum tree, there is livid
arguing, who is going sit where. My tree doesn’t bear crops, yet
it is a fruit tree, my neighbour says so. I’m a plum tree too grew
up tall and stylish women flocked around me, I married five times
... and not a bloody plum. Grey trunk, limp leaves and when dusk
comes no one sits on my twigs; I have to invent stories of plums
I never had. Fine plums, juicy plums all of them females that never
matured and left me alone to fend for myself in time of solitude.
Night, and in my heart there a is longing for the unfeasible.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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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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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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Season of Mists
I thank you for your view of a view of autumn, Keats
who never saw your own autumn with its actual pitfalls.
Yours was the autumn of childhood, of hope, or romance, of belief,
my mother's autumn though not that of her hardworking family,
yours was never my father's autumn, season of mists,
and yours is not mine. My autumn
for all I would like to subscribe to your lavish play,
is like yours only in single ways each year,
perhaps there are swallows making a din,
or plums and apples falling wasp-eaten, unharvestable.
There is no sickle in my vocabulary or shed,
my autumn is based more on dread of the winter
and having had so little time each summer
to tidy or attend to the garden. Last year
early snow fell on flower baskets ditched from the street
and remained both snow and baskets until the spring
leaving me two seasons behind, without strategy
for a fast approaching repeat autumn, little wonder
and no chance to make anything faintly rhyme,
such is our modern poetry and life
poem by Sally Evans
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3
when he wakes up
his thoughts are heavy
like ripe plums,
java he remembers,
big waves, and
volcanic eruptions,
humanity running away
to save what is it
that values themselves
to the right to live
java plums, violet, darker
than that, miserable,
covered by magma,
heights and disbelief
it happened in one
wink, and then one buries
all to forget, like a book
one goes to the next
chapter: this one is about
discovery, happiness.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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0265 This is just to say
William,
that I'm glad that you
enjoyed the plums
which I was saving
for breakfast
I'm saving the note
you tacked on the
icebox door
for the divorce
I'm suing for
to show how selfish
you are
and later I'll publish it
to show just how offhand
a poet can be
revenge is
best enjoyed
at leisure
sweet and delicious
as cold plums
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Silver-Eye
Down among the strawberries,
Up among the plums,
Cheeping in the cherry-tree
When early autumn comes,
In our silver spectacles
And sober olive suits.
We're very, very innocent;
We wouldn't touch your fruits.
Well, maybe just a speckled one,
A windfall here and there.
But raid your precious strawberries?
Oh no, we wouldn't dare.
Behold our bland astonishment,
The charge is quite absurd!
It must have been a parrot
Or some other kind of bird.
It must have been a satin bird;
It must have been a crow.
It couldn't possibly be us;
We are so meek, you know,
With our silver spectacles.
The accusation's vile!
How can you deem us guilty
When we're whistling all the while?
Well, if you've caught us in the act
There's no more to be said.
The plums are blue and succulent,
The strawberries are red.
And who'd refuse a dainty dish
When early autumn comes?
Oh, write a rhyme about us, man,
And pay for all your plums.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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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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Dont Ya Tell Henry
Dont ya tell henry,
Apples got your fly.
I went down to the river on a saturday morn,
A-lookin around just to see whos born.
I found a little chicken down on his knees,
I went up and yelled to him,
Please, please, please!
He said, dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Apples got your fly.
I went down to the corner at a-half past ten,
Is lookin around, I wouldnt say when.
I looked down low, I looked above,
And who did I see but the one I love.
She said, dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Apples got your fly.
Now, I went down to the beanery at half past twelve,
A-lookin around just to see myself.
I spotted a horse and a donkey, too,
I looked for a cow and I saw me a few.
They said, dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Apples got your fly.
Now, I went down to the pumphouse the other night,
A-lookin around, it was outa sight.
I looked high and low for that big ol tree,
I did go upstairs but I didnt see nobody but me.
I said, dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Apples got your fly.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Apples
I love apples,
Apples have crunch,
Lovely red apples,
Red, pink color, punch.
I love apple pies,
Family ties,
I love apple juice,
I call it zapple juice,
Without the fizz,
Or sugary twist,
Healthy fibre, Apple is.
Radio Cure
Cheer up, honey, I hope you can
There is something wrong with me
My mind is filled with silvery star
Honey kisses, clouds of fog
Sugars shrugging off
Cheer up, honey, I hope you can
There is something wrong with me
My mind is filled with radio cures
Electronic surgical words
Picking apples for kings & queens of things Ive never seen
Oh, distance has no way of making love understandable
Cheer up, honey, I hope you can
There is something wrong with me
My mind is filled with silvery star
Honey kisses, clouds of fog
Picking apples for kings & queens of things Ive never seen
Oh, distance has no way of making love understandable
Oh, distance has no way of making love understandable
Oh, distance has the way of making love understandable
Oh, distance has the way of making love understandable
Cheer up, honey, I hope you can
song performed by by Wilco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chocolate Love
You are the sweetness
In the choclolate I eat,
I find thoughts about you
melting away like the chocolate
The taste lingering in my mind,
To chew like the cud like
The cows in my shed,
I savour to the thoughts
Of your my love to you,
You beat of all queens,
Chocolate of all chocolate,
Cakes of all cakes,
Plums of all the plums,
When will I really taste
Your lips, caress you
Fondle your parts so secretly
Kept chaste by you
And have the bliss
Of eating a swiss chocolate.
poem by Ravikiran Arakkal
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A Diet Of Many Fruits Or One?
not a single poem do I ask you to read
neither to plant nor burn fruit seed
here are apples oranges peaches plums
kiwifruit passionfruit purple grapes
here blackberries blueberries raspberries
strawberries cranberries gooseberries
eat fruit raw or spiced served in pies
pastry casing sweet savoury crumbles
here honeydew rockmelon watermelon
nature’s free gifts enough to sink a galleon
but first you must toil plant many seeds
diverse cultures tastes all agriculture feeds
yes vitamins minerals all are in bananas
but God’s gift is multiplicity many choices
poem by Terence George Craddock
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