Who has wine for dinner, he has water for breakfast.
Serbo Croatian proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Candy for Breakfast
MMM!
candy for breakfast!
cake for dinner!
all such a wonderful
idea
I dont care
if I get cavities
I just want some
more sweets!
MMM! main course comming up
sweet tarts, delicious,
but I'd rather have
just a few taffys
Why not throw in a few
sprinkles, hershys, taffys,
cream, cake, sugar, vanilla
MMM! candy for breakfast
why not lunch?
or dinner?
midnight snake for sure
But i dont want to
get too carried away, right?
poem by John McAdam
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Perhaps This Way
perhaps in this way
as i take you into so much
familiarity
i may soon forget you
and so i take you like i am
having breakfast
and lunch and dinner
like i am washing my face
and feet
or my having to take a bath
everyday
every night
like you are water and soap to
my existence
but to no avail
you are still a diamond ring
kept so near
to the beatings of my
lousy heart
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Pork Chops are Fun
chop chop chop the pork squeals over dinner
with it's fatty bits and tasty bites
it marinates on a stick over hot coal
who will taste it first who will finish the bowl
Wow Pork Chops with red wine
then dinner will be divine
chop chop chop the pork is done
with ginger, wine and lots of fun
it's time to have with a salty bun
chop chop chop see it go in the oven my friends
it's dinner time lets eat it all
then lets sit together and have a ball
chop chop chop the pork tastes good
with the meat so tender it bloody weel should
sometimes on the pan sometimes as a roast
call your freinds for dinner it's a dish one can boast
chop chop chop the pork is done
sprikle a little wine to make things bright
then the meat put it on light
watch it burn and tremble with delight
chop chop chop my pork chops are done
poem by Anuj Tikku
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Lunch and Dinner
I have breakfast and lunch and dinner,
Munching away forever and ever;
The religion of some is furious and solid,
Yesterday it was bigger than today
But my day is always happy with fury,
Its speed is falling everywhere,
Velocity is the vector of your liking
For you know the directions
We possess.
Our breakfast is taken in fullness,
My lunch is ever so strange
And supper chanced itself.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Dinner
i see how loneliness opens its mouth
and swallows you whole
there is this dinner
and you are
what is served to its hunger
and thirst and you do not even make a sound
when you are gone
into the deepest throat
of emptiness
there is no sound
there is only the willingness to be lost
and to be forgotten
loneliness ate you for dinner
and i will be its breakfast tomorrow morning
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dinner For Alfalfa
let me introduce you
to Alfalfa
my girlfriend
she is 69
and still sexy
and rich
and she says
she cannot live without me
and i take her
to dinner
at her expense
of course
because she
has the money
and for dinner
she orders
soup # 5
garlic rice
hot chili sauce
jumbo hotdogs
and
cow's tongues
for stew
(u huh?
you expect some more
i stop here)
we are going
for a date
i am 87
and it is none
of your business)
just the viagra
without the
condoms
and yes Alfalfa
my dear
for breakfast
tomorrow)
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Her Qualms
she had dinner with me
and she talked about some priests and sinners
i think she is refined in some ways
the way she handles her fork and her forte
the rumors of the town
and the rest of those who profess innocence
pretended to pay attention
there were names and places and secret events
and trysts of some characters like they are in the play
of Tennessee Williams
and she carefully assesses the merits of their wounds
their tragedies surely are not hers
she does not eat much but her face swells
her stomach bloating and she burps like she is one kind
of a healthy baby
after the dinner
despite her expensive earrings
we in the house are unanimous in saying
she is the kind of character who must not have
another dinner with us
perhaps she must have breakfast
and we think she deserves to be
with Sophocles
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My body is like breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I don't think about it, I just have it.
quote by Arnold Schwarzenegger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's Quiet Now In Kansas
We had Taliban for breakfast
and then bin laden broth
some muslims ripe for dinner
i couldn't get enough
and then some koran crackers
for late night nibblies
we were hungry after dinner
and craved idolatry
next day we ate the holy pope
and while we were in rome
destroyed the sistine chapel
and then we headed home.
Its quiet now in kansas
its quiet on the news
now i really really must insist
i click my magic shoes.
poem by David Keig
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The Snake-God St. Tropez
early morning Place des Lices
at breakfast my coiled croissannt tells me
beware the Snake-God
he had not been placated
the vagrant's forward roll had skewed to the left
at lunch
out from the shade cicadas screech
as they identify
one of their own kind
protruding from the cheese-topping on my pizza
at dinner
I consume slivers of raw flesh
possibly the wine-waiters arm
it is July in St.Tropez
in the year of
the serpent
or the insect
or the amputee
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
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Look good in pink
‘I Look Good in Pink’
All day I’m stuck
To the kitchen sink
Or cleaning the toilet
To get rid of the stink
Making breakfast
Dinner or tea
So that they will
All love me
Make their beds
Wash their clothes
Their dirty socks
Makes me hold my nose
So that they will love me
Partner wakes up
Has breakfast
Then goes to work
The children play with their food
Go of to school
This muck, no, thank you
How rude
Partner comes home
Has their dinner
In front of the telly
Or the computer
Then they fall asleep
Oh how I could weep
Saturday night
Down the pub
Suddenly they come alive
Come here dear; high five
Then comes the little wink
And darling you look good in pink
That was the final straw
To tell a man
He looks good in pink
In front of his mates
Put away some more beers
Need to sulk; have a think
It’s hard to be a house-husband
However! I do look good in pink
MICMAC
poem by Michael Micmac Mccrory
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Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince, and dinner like a pauper.
quote by Adelle Davis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wine (Love Poem)
Wine is for laughing
Wine is for talking all night
Wine is for living life out loud
Wine is for making us beautiful
Wine is for all-night conversations
Wine is for getting together again
Wine is for ‘never again’ tomorrow
Wine is for sleeping like a baby
Wine is for telling the truth
Wine is food for love
Wine is friendship
Wine is fresh
Wine
Can
Be
The
One
Perfe ct
Companion
At the end of a long day
poem by Ian Beckett
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Duet
Milestone:
All my troubles disappear,
When the dinner-bell I hear,
Over woodland, dale, and fell,
Swinging slow with solemn swell,---
The dinner-bell! the dinner-bell!
Hippy:
What can bid my heart-ache fly?
What can bid my heart-ache die?
What can all the ills dispel,
In my morbid frame that dwell?
The dinner-bell! the dinner-bell!
Both:
Hark!---along the tangled ground,
Loudly floats the pleasing sound!
Sportive Fauns to Dryads tell,
'Tis the cheerful dinner-bell!
The dinner-bell! the dinner-bell!
poem by Thomas Love Peacock
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Enjoy breakfast all alone, share lunch with your best friend and give dinner to your enemy.
A bachelor's life is a fine breakfast, a flat lunch, and a miserable dinner.
quote by Francis Bacon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh, my friends, be warned by me, That breakfast, dinner, lunch and tea, Are all human frame requires.
quote by Hilaire Belloc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I definitely have a family. I have a boyfriend who has kids, and we do normal things every day, like get up and go to school. Eat breakfast, lunch and dinner.
quote by Tina Yothers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Breakfast
A dinner party, coffee, tea,
Sandwich, or supper, all may be
In their way pleasant. But to me
Not one of these deserves the praise
That welcomer of new-born days,
A breakfast, merits; ever giving
Cheerful notice we are living
Another day refreshed by sleep,
When its festival we keep.
Now although I would not slight
Those kindly words we use, 'Good night,'
Yet parting words are words of sorrow,
And may not vie with sweet 'Good morrow,'
With which again our friends we greet,
When in the breakfast-room we meet,
At the social table round,
Listening to the lively sound
Of those notes which never tire,
Of urn, or kettle on the fire.
Sleepy Robert never hears
Or urn or kettle; he appears
When all have finished, one by one
Dropping off, and breakfast done.
Yet has he too his own pleasure,
His breakfast hour's his hour of leisure;
And, left alone, he reads or muses,
Or else in idle mood he uses
To sit and watch the venturous fly,
Where the sugar's pilëd high,
Clambering o'er the lumps so white,
Rocky cliffs of sweet delight.
poem by Charles Lamb
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