You must judge a woman by the taste of her soup.
Related quotes
When I was a young man, I had a mentor on women and he said when you meet a woman that you think you like, don't ask her for a drink. Take her out for a bowl of soup. Because a woman who can enjoy a bowl of soup is bound to be more interesting.
quote by Art Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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Roasting
The seas of roasting chickens
Gang up on the mouth, to slaughter
Them is wise, more intelligent
Than themselves, who watch and listen
In ways of the Academy;
After tonight the walls of heaven collapse
For their taste and the taste buds work splendours.
Much eating occurred after me,
Most of the wasting accomplished nothing.
My boiling soup acutely spun
Under the weight of heaven and hell.
Those chances slim,
These windows thinner,
And my soup a broth for dinner.
poem by Naveed Akram
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You cook vegetable soup
You cook vegetable soup
and I look at you
while you cut green beans,
carrots, onions, celery, parsley
and tomatoes into two pots.
There are herbs, spices
and pepper that you are scattering
and two types of soup powder
that you throw in
and the pots steam and buzz
while I am washing the dishes
and the smell
makes me hungry
and I wonder
if the soup
are going to taste as good
as it smells.
We drink tee
and there’s medicine
that you give for flu
to me
and it’s great
to be with you
to read the look
in your beautiful eyes.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Judge
Judge is not here to decide
Who is winner and who is loser.
Judge is here to decide
Who is in right point.
No judge is empower to
Pronounced death sentences
No judge has got power
To give life to the lifeless.
Judge can not decide
The synonyms and antonyms
Judge can not say
The right source for right word.
Judge is not judge
So long as the judge is mortal
Judge is judge
If judge is eternal.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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A spoon does not know the taste of soup, nor a learned fool the taste of wisdom.
Oblation
Nation,
Libation,
Oblation,
Salutation,
Confirm, firm, affirm, reaffirm;
But your kind words are now opening a new vista form for us,
And, the one who drunk your soup knows the taste of it.
A byname,
Enigmatic,
Theosophy,
And like a pastor who died in a pulpit! !
But, the one who ate your food knows the taste of it.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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What I know about Woman!
I thought
I know!
I know it!
I am really sorry!
I do not.
I, who is 'Me'
And the whole word
Aught to
Admit!
You do not need to use what you already know
Or
Rise and release your PH.D level
about what you know and 'Sorry I missed That.'
With A French Accent.
I do not know her
In close
Or by
Far.
I did not even know if she is playful
prideful,
Shy, or
LATÉ
type of woman;
Funny
And miserable
than me or two ounces or 4 quads extra.
So I do not claim
I know
something about
woman,
one
woman in particular,
ten,
Eleven.
or ten thousands
I do not know nothing
about woman,
women,
and the man I am?
I can not judge any more,
be out of the box.
Inside the box,
on top of it,
on top of
My feeling, or
My skin,
surfing over my clouds,
swimming through my veins.
I can not judge
and that is enough!
I am
Already out of box
and I am still a box
boxed
wired
weird funny creature.
from a faraway galaxy;
And for me
woman are funny too
except they have plans and exits
even for being funny
and not being funny at all.
So please do not ask
anything about
my experiences,
my skills,
my skin,
my eyes,
just take what you wan t
or just steal my skin
and dry it out.
poem by Atef Ayadi
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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
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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
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Chauvinist
I’d never really comprehended such a mighty range of
Shapes and sizes down behind, it’s really rather strange:
The buttock muscle in a woman, overlaid with fat
Is actually such a focal point for men to want to pat
Or squeeze, and then to tease her if it’s eminently stout,
Or even risk a stay in clink to sting it with a clout!
After all, we men are tuned to be that way inclined –
And tho’ our needs are varied, girls, they’re all perverse of mind!
Best of all, our sacred dream: to see her shed her gown
When gliding to the shower for the ritual sponging down.
But then alas! With body lathered, oops! she drops the soap;
‘Please! ’ we beg her, ‘bend and bare! ’ But we can only hope!
I’m sure by now you get the picture – like a rule of thumb –
That men like me obsess all day about the fairer bum.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
My dreams are of a
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Do not Judge me (First Poem Submitted)
As I stand before you
with the reality of the shame of my sins in my arms.
Do not judge me.
You do not know me.
You do not know the pains I have suffered,
As you look at me like I am a demon from the pits of Hell.
Do not judge me.
You do not know me.
Picture youself alone as I, needing the comfort and touch of another.
Would you not do the same?
Do not judge me.
You do not know me.
And my child has already been marked like a person with the plague.
Not given a chance,
Do not judge him,
You do not know him.
We all have sinned and it is not our job to judge,
So do not judge me.
You do not know me.
(I wrote this after watching Scarlett Letter)
poem by Tamara Daniel
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Watching
You sat intrigued
by the way
the old woman
spooned her soup
sitting in the cafe
all by herself.
She had a bread roll
broken up
on a side plate
and fingered it
into her mouth
in between
mouthfuls of soup.
You watched
unnoticed by her
like some voyeur
studying some woman
undressing
from a nearby room
through binoculars
hidden in the dark.
You studied
her wrinkled features
the way the mouth
opened and closed
the fingers
with screwed up skin
fingered the roll.
Someone spoke to her
as they went by
on their way out.
Yes see you lovey
she said in a voice
that seemed to disown
the features and face.
You guessed
she must have been
some beauty once
and had men
gawking at her
for her looks and hair
with lustful stares
as she made her way
with a sexy wiggle
and show of leg
up a flight of stairs.
poem by Terry Collett
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It's not the aroma of the soup that tells you whether it's sweet or not, but it's the tongue's taste.
A Jewish woman had two chickens. One got sick, so the woman made chicken soup out of the other one to help the sick one get well.
quote by Henny Youngman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Cant Judge A Book By Looking At The Cover
1: you cant judge a apple by lookin at the tree.
Cant judge a honey by lookin at the bee.
Cant judge a daughter by lookin at the mother.
You cant judge a book by lookin at the cover.
Chorus: oh-oh, cant you see? you misjudged me, baby!
I look like a farmer but--Im a lover!
Cant judge a book by lookin at the cover.
2: you cant judge sugar by lookin at the pan.
Cant judge a woman by lookin at her man.
Cant judge one by lookin at the other.
You cant judge a book by lookin at the cover.
Chorus: oh-oh, cant you see? you misjudged me!
I look like a farmer but--Im a lover!
Cant judge a book by lookin at the cover.
3: you cant judge a fish by lookin in the pond.
Cant judge right by lookin at the wrong,
Cant judge a-one by lookin at the other.
You cant judge a book by lookin at the cover.
Chorus: oh-oh, cant you see? you misjudged me!
I look like a farmer but--Im a lover!
Cant judge a book by lookin at the cover.
4: cant judge a apple by lookin at the tree, baby.
Cant judge honey by lookin at the bee.
Cant judge a daughter by lookin at the mother.
You cant a book by lookin at the cover.
Chorus: oh-oh, cant you see? you misjudged me!
I look like a farmer but--Im a lover!
Cant judge a book a-by lookin at the cover.
Source: mark atkins (by ear), 4/30/00
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Woman
If I'd be so inclined to climb up beside you.
Would you tell me that the time just isn't right?
And if I ever find the key you hide so well
Will you tell me that I can spend the night?
Leaving your smell on my coat.
Leaving your taste on my shoulder.
I still fail to understand,
What it is about this woman.
If I could bottle up the chills you give me.
I would keep them in a jar next to my bed.
And if I should ever draw a picture of a woman,
It is you that would come flowing from my pen.
Leaving your clothes on the floor.
Making me walk out the door
And I still fail to understand
What it is about this woman.
Hopelessly melting as I stand next to the sun.
As she burns me, I am screaming out for more.
Drink every drop of liquid heat that I have become,
Pop me open, spill me out onto the floor.
Leaving your smell on my coat.
Leaving your taste on my shoulder.
I still fail to understand,
What it is about this woman.
Leaving your smell on my coat.
Leaving your taste on my shoulder.
I still fail to understand,
What it is about this woman.
song performed by by Maroon 5
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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The Other Way Around?
you smell like war,
like gunpowder,
flesh searing screams.
i smell like grieving,
like ashes, and
dirt on the shovel.
you sound like hunger,
and homelessness,
and vomit stained lips.
i sound like the soup
that simmers, like the
blanket wrapped...
you taste like bitterness,
the lonliness of alone.
i taste like the hand that fits,
the shadow of the body near...
or am i wrong?
could it be the other way around?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Woman's Rights
no man ever owns a woman!
her body, mind, and spirit
are her own...
no man has the right
to legislate a woman's body,
to judge a woman's thoughts,
to fetter a woman's spirit.
if we're really lucky
we get the chance
to walk beside them!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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