You are not being honest if you burn your tongue and don't tell everyone else that the soup is hot.
Related quotes
He is not honest who has burned his tongue and does not tell the company the soup is hot.
He is not an honest man who has burned his tongue and does not tell the company that the soup is hot.
Soup Of The Day
Well she thinks shes looking so cool
She thinks shes great but shes just a fool
What awful lack of class makes this kind behave this way
I look and only think of one thing to say
Soup, shes just soup
Soup of the day
Shes thin around the waistline
Thin around the brain
You see this type so many times
Time and time again
How could they really think
Theyd be treated in any other way
Everybodys looking and everybody say
Soup, shes just soup
Soup of the day
Well youd think theyd know better
That behaving in this way
They think theyre being clever
But I really have to say
Youd better think it over
Youll regret it one fine day
When the circus partys over
And you were just soup of the day
Shes just soup
Soup of the day
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Gasoline
Houses haunted
I just want to go for a ride
Out an on
Thought Id set this room a light
Left alone
Forever and for crimes unclear
With my patience gone
Someone take me far from here
Burn that gasoline
Yea
Burn that gasoline
New day only
Another day in solitude
Houses honest
Clearly more than I can bare
Drain me all
Before I set my world on fire
I am gone
The sun will never set tonight
Burn that gasoline
Yea
Burn that gasoline
No more forests
Only a can on red
Says danger on it
I have found another way
Burn that gasoline
Yea
Burn that gasoline
Burn it all the way
Burn it all the way
song performed by by Audioslave
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
With Fever The Day Has Passed
could not have a warm shower first
my wife said soup was getting cold
and the heat of the soup is good
for fever to bring out the sweat
perhaps my head is supposed
to burn
with fever the day has passed
in blessed sleep night has quiet
creeping come with this fever
light headed dizzy flying flu
is timeless in circles of energy
fleeting lapping gone
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I was wrong: So what. todays idiocy
I say that it’s impossible.
You cannot eat soup with chop sticks
Though it is highly probable.
Someone will try to prove he can.
To demonstrate his cleverness
and show he is a better man.
What will it prove should he succeed?
That I’m mistaken in my view.
I will be happy to concede
.
the victory to some buffoon.
Who can eat soup using chop sticks.
I still prefer to use a spoon.
I think soup should be eaten hot
I do not like cold soup a lot.
20/06/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Talk Soup
I dated siamese twins
I slept with bigfoot, too
Get me on sally jesse
Put me on donahue
cause I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
My dogs a narcoleptic
My moms a circus freak
I gotta get a spot on
Geraldos show this week
cause I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
Im just an anorexic codependant bingo addict
Stripper born without a chin
And Im only comfortable talking about it
When the whole wide world is listening in
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
My wife ran off with elvis
My boss shaved off my hair
Ive got a thing for poodles
And rubber underwear
And I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
I had a close encounter
I never chew my food
I got eleven nose jobs
I yodel in the nude
And I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
Im just a cross-dressin alcoholic neo-nazi
Porno star, as you may have guessed
And Im really gonna feel a whole lot better
If you let me get this thing off my chest
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Im just your average schizophrenic nymphomaniac
Albino go-go dancer, you see
Nothin so bad that I cant share it
With a billion friends on national tv, whoa...
I have no genitalia
I sold my kids for cheese
I love my blow up doll, so
Bring out those cameras, please
cause I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
It's not the aroma of the soup that tells you whether it's sweet or not, but it's the tongue's taste.
Poison
It's not the apple
that has poison
not even the wine
nor the shark's fin soup....
It is the mind that listens
to the tongue that keeps saying
'you're nothing...
better kill yourself.'
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sky Seasoning
A piece of sky
Broke off and fell
Through the crack in the ceiling
Right into my soup,
KERPLOP!
I really must state
That I usually hate
Lentil soup, but I ate
Every drop!
Delicious delicious
(A bit like plaster),
But so delicious, goodness sake--
I could have eaten a lentil-soup lake.
It's amazing the difference
A bit of sky can make.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Burn That Bridge
Burn that bridge
By: jimmy buffett, michael utley, will jennings
1984
Im not sayin Im scareda you
But your kinda love is somethin new
When I hold you were swayin in the wind
Of all the bridges Ive ever crossed
High and lonesome and wild and lost
I feel this time Ill take it to the end
We dont care what the people may say
If theres a price its the price well pay
Chorus:
And well burn that bridge when we come to it
Burn that bridge when we come to it
Burn that bridge when we come to
Burn it down
Burn it down
We both done our share of runnin around
So we know enough to know the kind of love weve found
Its the real thing and weve got to see it through
Im a singer and a sailor on a midnight sea
(oh captain come and take me on your fantasy)
If were crazy that aint nothin new
cause we dont care what the people may say
If theres a price its the price well pay
Chorus:
And well burn that bridge when we come to it
Burn that bridge when we come to it
Burn that bridge when we come to
Burn it down
Burn it down
Who knows how it started
Who knows it end
The point of no return is waiting
Just around the bend
Chorus:
And well burn that bridge when we come to it
Burn that bridge when we come to it
Burn that bridge when we come to
Burn it down
Burn it down
Chorus:
Yes well burn that bridge when we come to it
Burn that bridge when we come to it
Burn that bridge when we come to
Burn it down
Burn it down
Burn it down
Burn it down
Burn it down
Burn it down
Burn it down
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sexual Soup
A man so sick that the sexual soup
cannot save him -
the chicken soup of sex
which cures everything:
tossed mane of noodles,
bits of pale white meat.
the globules of yellow fat
like love...
But he is a man so sick
no soup can save him.
His throat has healed into a scar.
Rage fills his guts.
He wants to diet on dust.
I offered to feed him
(spoon by spoon)
myself.
I offered my belly as a bowl.
I offered my hands as spoons,
my knees as tongs,
my breasts as the chafing dish
to keep us warm
I offered my navel
as a brandy snifter.
"My tongue is gone," he said,
"I have no teeth.
My mouth is with my mother in the grave.
I've offered up my hunger to the air,
my nostrils to the wind,
my sex to death,
my eyes to nothingness & dust."
"What do you lust for then?"
I asked.
"I lust for nothing."
poem by Erica Jong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Walk On By, Walk On Me
your tongue pierced my fragile heart
careless words are daggers thrown
unaware unapproachable
unwilling silence from a sounding voice
you entwine praise with curses
your words burn like hell itself
silence from a sounding voice
all this by the tongue created
your words become hell itself
i lay bleeding in the flames
the tongue creates it tongue...
song performed by by Zao
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The value of morals
I know it is bad to tell lies
Yet I do as a face saving.
I resolve to bridle my tongue
Yet I let it go in right time.
I know it is a shame to steal
Yet I do if undetectable.
I vow I should not take revenge
But do so as to heal the wound.
I ought to burn the jealousy
But find it the fire that ignites.
I have learnt I must be honest
But practise when convenient.
I shall eschew all sins of sex
As long as I have no access.
I have guilt about adultery
But fall a prey to proximity.
What is the use of morals learnt
As they are slaves of instincts?
20.06.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sun & Soup
You hold the spoon
over the tureen
watching the soup
drip back with a plop.
You know Francis
will enter soon,
and stand watching
over you, him being
master of the kitchen,
wondering if you had
dipped your finger
and tasted the soup
with your tongue
and say, I hope you
haven’t dipped your finger
in and tasted, it isn’t
the done thing;
and he’d give you
such a look, as if you would,
as if Mother had not
taught you kitchen manners
with its dos and don’ts;
and as you look up
at the high windows,
sunlight leaks through
the coloured glass pane
throwing its golden finger
across the tureen’s hold.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Soup of day
She said severely:
“God have said: the soup must be warm! ”
It was a Gazpacho, a cold soup to a warm evening.
I have mixed tomatos, cucumbers,
red and green peppers,
red onions, a few garlics,
a few parsleys and coriander.
This soup had a beautiful colour: red and green! green and red!
It was cold, very cold, iced.
I have warmed up her soup
I have grilled also some scallops
with a pistachio dressing
she said:
“It is delightful mostly the orange and red parts.”
It was only a question of colours
I have dreamt at a blue gazpacho, blue scallops
Blue like the sea but the sea is never blue
and the blue is not a tasty colour.
Then we have recited some french poems
This evening was quiet and tender
despite the heat wave.
I like to remember this iced soup
and the awful warmth.
poem by Jean Francois Le Goff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A man who touches the bottom of a soup plate with a ball of foofoo is no longer searching for soup.
One spoon of soup in need has more value than a pot of soup when we have an abundance of food.
Burn Three Times
Burn burn burn
Burn burn burn
Burn burn burn
Burn burn burn
Im cookin up somethin
Cookin up somethin
Cookin up somethin special for you
Its on the back burner
On the back burner
On the back burner waiting for you
Im no burger king, Im no pizza pie spinner
Dont come sniffin round here for something to eat
Its a gourmet thing, not a tv dinner
So stay out of the kitchen if you cant take the heat
Its gonna
Burn burn burn - you might get burned
Burn burn burn - cause its so hot
Burn burn burn - that you might get burned
Burn burn burn
Ive got a hot number
Got a hot number
Got a hot number bearing your name
Its such a big order
Such a big order
Such a big order turn up the flame
Its a champagne kiss with a surprise in the middle
I hope youre hungry, Ive been cookin all day
Got a love so strong you couldnt squish it with a griddle
Call out the volunteers cause my hearts a flambe
I gotta time it right so its warm when you get it
Turn up the heat just a little bit higher
It was a good idea but I think I overdid it
I cant reach the oven and the kitchens on fire
song performed by by Utopia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Supper
The supper of the red soup came with love,
And Veh came along with Xeh as the next door neighbours;
But Beh was my friend on the supper of the red soup,
And i will take Beh back home on this love.
The pictures of my mind brought up wonderful colours,
And of the muse of the red soup so enjoyed last night;
But i will take Beh back home to embrace my love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!