Is it progress if a cannibal uses a knife and fork
quote by Stanislaw Jerzy Lec
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Is it progress if a cannibal uses a fork?
quote by Stanislaw Lec
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heaven always bears some proportion to earth. The god of the cannibal will be a cannibal, of the crusades a crusader, and of the merchants a merchant.
quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kissing My Disgrace
Cut her into little pieces
Move her round the plate
Knife and Fork, Ill dream you're all talk
I'm kissing my disgrace
Kissing my disgrace
Older fragments with no meaning
Cloaked her smiling face
Today I eat myself a breakfast
I'm kissing my Disgrace
Cut her into little pieces
Move her round the plate
Knife and Fork, I'll dream you're all talk
I'm kissing my disgrace
Kissing my disgrace (repeated)
song performed by by Queen Adreena
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't dig your grave with your own knife and fork.
Knife Party
My knife - its sharp and chrome
Come see inside my bones
All of the fiends are on the block
Im the new king, Ill take the queen
cause in here were all anemic
In here - anemic and sweet...so...
Go get your knife, go get your knife
And come in
Go get your knife, go get your knife
And lay down
Go get your knife, go get your knife
Now kiss me
Oooh...well I can float here forever
In this room we cant touch the floor
In here were all anemic
In here - anemic and sweet...so...
Go get your knife, go get your knife
And come in
Go get your knife, go get your knife
And lay down
Go get your knife, go get your knife
Now kiss me
Ohh... I could float here forever
Ohh... anemic and sweet
Ohh... I could float here forever
Ohh... anemic and sweet...so...
Go get your knife, go get your knife
And come in
Go get your knife, go get your knife
And lay down
Go get your knife, go get your knife
Get filthy
Go get your knife, go get your knife
And kiss me...
song performed by by Deftones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Teaching a monkey to eat with a fork and knife will never make it a man.
I Take the Fork
I take the fork,
And select what I choose to eat.
I sample the vegetables...
To then sip on juice or spring water.
I slice the meat with a knife.
I taste for seasoning.
To see if it pleases.
It does...
And I repeat.
I take the fork,
And select what I choose to eat.
I sample the vegetables...
To then sip on juice or spring water.
I slice the meat with a knife.
I taste for seasoning.
To see if it pleases.
It does...
And I repeat.
I might have dessert,
With coffee.
I use a spoon,
If icecream is served.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The path leads one.
On my way in the path
When I met the first fork,
I took at random an arm [of the fork]
Which led me to the next fork,
From where taking an arm,
I met another and so on
Till I reached where I am now.
The path led me than I led myself.
06.02.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If a lot of people gripped a knife and fork the way they do a golf club, they'd starve to death.
Enough religious talk!
Just pick up your knife and fork
And eat some pork!
haiku by John Thorkild Ellison
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There will never be peace
As long as
someone can pull out a gun
to shoot someone dead
as long as
someone can dropp a bomb
on some strangers head
there will never be peace
no there will never be peace
in this world
as long as
someone can start a war
based on a pack of lies
as long as
someone ignores the truth
when they look deep in your eyes
there will never be peace
no there will never be peace
in this world
if this is progress
we haven't come too far
if this is progress
we don't know who we are
if this is progress
we are worlds apart
if this is progress
we'd better go back to the start
as long as
someone stabs you in the back
and sticks the knife in good
as long as
someone walks without shame
in streets paved with blood
there will never be peace
no there will never be peace
in this world
The Last Poem Shall Tinker With Mood And Meaning
silence silenced, and dreams dreamt,
and the speaker that listens upon the beatings of his heart
like a little drum inside his chest.
it is this resounding. this re-echoing
that like a spoon and knife to a porcelain plate
tinkers with the meat and beans,
segregating, and choosing little things
in colors and smell, and swallowing some and
throwing out the rest of what we
like to have inside us. sorrow and pain.
joy and bliss. yours and mine. you and i.
these are categories that we see and feel,
and care and care less and choose.
we tinker with mood. we like always to choose,
and discriminate, the spoon is a spoon and the fork is a fork.
and the knife that cuts,
we are careful enough. There is meaning now.
Blood drops out from your veins, and some beans
turn red. You cull out, what you want to believe.
you leave and carry with you
what is painless. That is as simple as that.
more or less, either/or. write the name of the person
that you love. Burn those that hurt you. Close the door.
Open the window. See the sun. And let always the moon
to kiss you by your window. It does not know what a door is.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There once was a sailor from York,
Who never would eat with a fork,
Then he changed his whole life
When he slipped with a knife
Now his eyes are as sharp as a hawk.
quote by by John Carter Brown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lyric four bulls
Woman walked in forest alone
Met man
Man aroused appetite for her
Man ran and knocked his head on tree
Tail grew out
Hairy jaw grew in mouth
Hind legs grew
Man metamorphosed because was
Lion cannibal
Tried to attack man
Woman asked cannibal
‘’where’re your four
red and white bulls’’
‘’Do you know them’’
‘’Yes, you sing their
Oldest lyric’’
Cannibal laughed
In hoarse voice
Sang,
‘’One red and white spotted bull is sold
One red and white bull spotted is stolen
One red and white spotted bull is swallowed
One red and white spotted bull is scattered
On earth, scattered on earth, on earth, on earth……………….., cannibal sang tune of ‘’scattered on earth’’ happily for long and until
He napped and woman disappeared.
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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Meanstreak
Ive been to the left, Ive been to the right
Ive found myself in abudhabi, just a mirage in the night
Been to the high, Ive been to the low
And Ive been to lots of places that I didnt wanna go
But I aint see nothing to get me off my ass
And laughed at all the jokers wanting make me walk on glass
I could walk fore I could crawl
And I was meaner than a bad dog with his back against the wall
Animal, animal
Cannibal, cannibal
See em fall, see em fall
Im the guy that they call -
Meanstreak, I gotta meanstreak
Meanstreak, they call me meanstreak
I just dont know who I wanna be
The count of monte cristo or the sheik of arabia
Ive eaten rich, and Ive eaten free
Im the perfect culture vulture in the face of poverty
And I aint met no one who told me I got class
They say never feed the animal, the boys got too much flash
Im a guy they just cant teach
And I always kick the castle thats been built up on the beach
Animal, animal
Cannibal, cannibal
See em fall, see em fall
Im the guy that they call -
Whats your name?
Meanstreak
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Things Do Not Seem To Be Them After A Careful Seeing
a spoon
and a fork and they seem to appear
with food on a silver platter
when we talk we talk like poets now
after years
a spoon is no longer just a spoon
and neither is the fork
and neither is the food the food that we
eat on the table
and neither is the silver platter a mere
silver platter as it seems to be
for a spoon may be me and i may also be
a tongue and i could be a tongue to your
fork, a protrusion that stabs me like a knife
and the silver platter could be our mind
a garden where we put every seed
and the table and the cloth that covers it
with leaves and flowers
myabe our worlds, covered and uncovered
with some intricate designs
this could be our world now. a world of poems
where everything is a roll of sensitive skin
a mind so fertile with its array of metaphors
and similes and
exaggerations, and these make us so happy
we tiptoe, we choose the word, we equate
every object to a meaning, we dance to a lot
of its nuances, and then we touch and then
we are so silent. we choose not to hurt.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When I was little, my mother taught me how to use a fork and knife. The trouble is that Mother forget to teach me how to stop using them!
quote by Hattie McDaniel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Objector
In line at lunch I cross my fork and spoon
to ward off complicity--the ordered life
our leaders have offered us. Thin as a knife,
our chance to live depends on such a sign
while others talk and The Pentagon from the moon
is bouncing exact commands: "Forget your faith;
be ready for whatever it takes to win: we face
annihilation unless all citizens get in line."
I bow and cross my fork and spoon: somewhere
other citizens more fearfully bow
in a place terrorized by their kind of oppressive state.
Our signs both mean, "You hostages over there
will never be slaughtered by my act." Our vows
cross: never to kill and call it fate.
poem by William Stafford
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The Fork To Take
I had pegged you as
protégé, adoptee,
someone I could save.
The last thing
I needed
was
another lover.
You call yourself
'an accident
looking
for a place
to happen.'
I call you
my sweet, my love,
not only
because you carry knives
for me
& want to beat up
all my
ex-husbands-
but because
you can laugh
at yourself
for wanting to.
We dream
of the baby
we will never have.
The little Jewish WASP
with golden blue eyes,
poems on the tip of his tongue.
your height, my hair,
& jokes that hit
their targets
on a slant.
He will never be
in the Social Register.
But will he know
which fork to take-
as you did
when you drove
off my road,
slyly taking the wrong fork
in order to stay
the night?
O you are sly,
my sweet wheat
looking for
a harvest.
Shall I reap you?
Shall I do to you
what the hurricane
does with the waving
grain?
Shall I thresh & bind you,
run barefoot
through your body
trying to stamp out
death?
Or shall I merely
let you
lift me up
like the wind spinning
an errant seed,
& let it
take me
where it will,
right fork,
wrong fork,
no fork
at all,
since we will take
the same path
through
the air
after all?
poem by Erica Jong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As they say in Italy, Italians were eating with a knife and fork when the French were still eating each other. The Medici family had to bring their Tuscan cooks up there so they could make something edible.
quote by Mario Batali
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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