Related quotes
Worm eaten buds
A coach is who is unfit to play in the field.
A director is who is unfit to act on the stage.
An advisor is who is unfit to execute the advice.
So is a lover, who is unfit to seduce the beloved.
All sprouts of love are worm eaten buds
16.05.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Be With The Same Feathers
A rose is unfit to be with cacti.
A black is unfit to be with whites.
A wise one is unfit to be with fools.
They cannot elbow through to progress.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Overweight with Food
Are you just a tub of lard and
Vastly overweight?
Do you think that when you die you'll
Need a piano crate
To act as coffin for your frame? -
Chosen as you die in shame, with
Only you to take the blame
For years of eating much the same:
A daily calorific fest
Gourmands of your ilk digest!
Is your heart in final fling and
Nearly set to burst?
Are your arteries bunged and clogged and
Feeling now the worst
For wear? - your aneurysm fit to blow
While blood as thick as rising dough
Cries 'Halt! ' to any hope of flow:
A dreadful state to put on show
In front of any nurse!
Best you hail a hearse.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Syrup Sponge
Pour a pint of cream
Upon my spongy bulge!
Scoop me with a
Hefty spoon;
Taste my essence -
Do you swoon?
Feed your self-esteem; indulge
In me until you burst -
Death by syrup sponge - you're cursed!
And as the count in inches gain
Upon your weary waist, the strain
Will tell, but you'll not care -
Steeped in sponge, you're unaware!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food
food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Salad is Incompatible with Life
Yes, my waist is fifty inches -
Big for me because I'm short.
And yes, I like my cheddar cheese
When partnered with a vintage port.
Okay, okay, that double cream
Is always served with pud,
And cake and biscuits with my tea
Are just no bloody good
For my poor hardened arteries,
But see my point of view,
Please dear wifey if you please,
A Salad makes me spew!
I'd rather eat a bowl of air
Than crunch away on greens;
Drink water from the toilet bowl
Or nibble on my jeans!
But salad! Are you there?
You know it makes me snappy -
So let me fill my face with grub,
Stay fat, and die young happy!
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Complain
We complain
When in other countries people are in pain
We complain
And on the other side, conditions are inhumane
We complain
Many people want to ascertain
I don't eat cheese
While in other countries people die of disease
I don't want to clean my room
While many people starve just wanting food to consume
My mom just gave me 50 dollars and thats not enough
In different places people can't even pay for rent; life is tough
We complain
Many people, their life they can't sustain
Parents their kids they can't maintain
On Christmas people can't even buy a candy cane
People feeling like they're drowning in acid rain
And we complain
People out there who can't even afford to watch an ad campaign
People hiding on the streets because of shame
Because themselves are the ones to blame
Many things they detain
People out there who wish they were slain
People who wear the same clothes with the same little stain
People sleeping out in the rain
People who have given up and just start to cut their vein
When some people work and get their paycheck, they feel nothing they gain
Without insurance they gotta be careful because there's nothing they can sprain
Many people like in Africa have nothing to eat, not even a little grain...
And we complain
poem by Bianca Edwards
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some food
Some food is
Medicine...
Medicine is some food...
Some food is poison...
Some food is Tenson...
Some food is Fear...
Some food is lovely...
Some food is Bland...
Some food is sweety...
Some food is spicy...
Some food is nothing...
Food is not only food
A good eatable medicine...
At only some food...
Some food...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Ludicrous Lingo
I asked a waiter for some food
And can't complain that he was rude,
'NO PROBLEM, sir! ' was what he said
(I wished the little blighter dead! ! !)
I just can't stand that sort of talk,
So I fiddled with my knife and fork.
Then when it arrived the foolish boy
Came out with 'There you are, ENJOY! '
(I suppose I really shouldn't complain
But this use of words drives me insane! ! !)
I left a tip and heard him say
'Goodbye now, have an AWESOME day! '
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Harmonious Soul
I remember a dark arm after a being of favours,
He was one who owned no common soul;
This food of pride kept the world revolving,
Against all enemies prepared.
In solitude a soul has been sustained,
Then the soul would gaze for unfruitful life;
For so it thought, at a distant scene,
Of a young imagination in the sky.
Now, in this harmonious beginning
I complain with my soul so that I think
A rest is achieved and never demanded,
Over the mountains we echo the images of the soul.
poem by Naveed Akram
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A Food For Everything!
Meals are the food for the body;
Knowledge is the food for the mind;
Meditation is the food for the spirit;
Music is the food for the love of heart;
Dreams are the food for the consciousness;
Prayer is the food for the Almighty;
Love is the food for the living heart;
Thoughts are the food for the brain;
Colourful ink is the food for the pen;
Ideas are the food for the stories;
Truth is the food for the will;
Sun’s energy is the food for the plants;
Plants are the food for the living beings;
But one man’s food is another man’s poison!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Leave That To
I've never known what it's like real poverty
And I've always been lucky life is good to me
And since I've never known illness or physical pain
I am not one with the right to complain
Leave that to those who are doing it tough
The homeless and destitute who have to live rough
The forgotten people of Poverty Street
Who search in rubbish bins for thrown out food to eat
Leave that to the millions of Stateless refugees
Hungry and subject to every known disease
Life for them a constant survival fight
If they complain they have earned the right
I've lived for sixty one years in time a good span
And I cannot complain I am a lucky man.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Food is god
Food is god
for poor people...!
God is not
Only food...
Rich home
Dog is eat
Nice food...
That food is god...?
yes that also
A god...
Good food is
God...
What is good food...?
Given good health
Always good food...
So...
Non veg
Or veg...
Every good food
Is god...
Simply sit
Silentely eat food
With out hot
And cool drinks...
Food is not only
Poor's god...
With each and
Every one also
food is god...
Give respect and
Take food...
Happley too try too
Thank for god...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I think things like food, the food of the south is sort of the common tie that binds us all, Black and White, the sense memories. It's a very particular part of the country.
quote by Sela Ward
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Beauty is according to frame
When a figure is fit to the frame
Conceived in brain, it is a beauty.
If it is a grossly unfit, it is ugly.
If it is slightly unfit, time adjudge the
frame.
16.09.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Democracy is zera
Democracy is zero
Common man is hero.
Common man is called
Janata janardan
Common man is called
Nara narayan.
Common man is omnipresent
Common man is Omniscient
Common man is omnipotent.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter CXV: Common Thing
It’s not a kindness of heart
It’s not strong solidarity
It’s just a common thing
It’s not local wisdom
It’s not old tradition
It’s just a common thing
It’s not call of duty
It’s not sense of right
It’s just a common thing
It’s not formal greeting
It’s not automatic response
It’s just a common thing
It’s not a matter of guessing
It’s not a part of instinct
It’s just a common thing
It’s not natural reaction
It’s not act of compassion
It’s just a common thing
It’s not regular news
It’s not lack of awareness
It’s just a common thing
It’s not general knowledge
It’s not piece of memory
It’s just a common thing
It’s not statistic range
It’s not operational standard
It’s just a common thing
It’s not moral excuses
It’s not people ignorance
It’s just a common thing
It’s not public secret
It’s not rhetoric question
It’s just a common thing
It’s not different mindset
It’s not basic solution
It’s just a common thing
It’s not absolute law
It’s not blind obedience
It’s just a common thing
It’s not sweet revenge
It’s not getting even
It’s just a common thing
It’s not constant worry
It’s not planted fear
It’s just a common thing
It’s not usual bickering
It’s not daily fight
It’s just a common thing
It’s not die hard habit
It’s not strange behavior
It’s just a common thing
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Food
Food food food
All are here for food
All evolve from food
All act for food
All think about food.
All know no food
No existence.
Food come from rain
Rain ensues from sacrifice
Sacrifice rooted
In prescribed action
Prescribed action
Originate from knowledge
Knowledge proceed from you
You my dear not destructible.
So long as you are there
Food is there
You are all pervading
You are infinite
I the finite
Long for you
Through the food
Supplied to me
Only by you
And the food
Itself you.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Those Brown Paper Bags
I'll always remember, when I was a lad
Those brown paper bags, brought home by my Dad
I'd climb up on a chair, and Momma would smile
To see all the food, that would last, for awhile
Momma be so happy, to fill up her shelves She'd kiss Dad, for giving so much of himself
He worked day and night, and never complained
Just to keep his family free from all pain
I'm married now and life is the same
Only now like Dad, I never complain
So, now I thank God, that I am able
To put food, for my kids, on my kitchen table
poem by Alverna Reimold
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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But all that being said about modulation, if you're serving people delicious food, they won't complain.
quote by Sally Schneider
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cat Food
Lady supermarket with an apple in her basket
Knocks in the managers door;
Grooning to the muzak from a speaker in shoe rack
Lays out her goods on the floor;
Everything shes chosen is conveniently frozen.
Eat it and come back for more!
Lady window shopper with a new one in the hopper
Whips up a chemical brew;
Croaking to a neighbour while she polishes a sabre
Knows how to flavour a stew.
Never need to worry with a tin of hurri curri:
Poisoned especially for you!
No use to complain
If youre caught out in the rain;
Your mothers quite insane.
Cat food cat food cat food again.
Lady yellow stamper with a fillet in a hamper
Dying to finish the course;
Goodies for the table with a fable on the label
Drowning in miracle sauce.
Dont think I am that rude if I tell you that its cat food,
Not even fit for a horse!
song performed by by King Crimson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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