Woman is at once apple and serpent.
quote by Heinrich Heine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Red Apple, Red Apple
Red apple
Red apple
sitting on the ledge
savouring its nutrients
for a few moments longer
Red apple
Red apple
Savouring its time
That is has left
As a whole
Red apple
Red apple
Traveled such a
Long way, from the store?
Farm? another country?
Red apple
Red apple
Haunting me by
The curiosity of
How juicy you taste
Red apple
Red apple
Shine on,
Red apple
poem by John McAdam
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Woman Is Fire
There was a time when Woman went out of house, house of wax was left by Woman, Woman with waxen complexion I was, I was fiery Woman, Woman's body was a wax, Woman's eyes a flammable paraffin, what Woman's mouth was: withered red apples when Woman was fired out of house. House was invisible when Woman took a fire lamp and went to cheer in the smell of fallen apples, scattered around house, our moldy house. In the cold night Woman molded her body in a candle mould to revive old fire and saw Man that gathered apple stalks from moldy apple trees. It was a lonely man, Man that made a fire with waxed paper and moldering apple stalks. Man that sat outdoors on a moldy wooden bench by that fire and drunk applejack.
Woman saw Man, Man that felt Woman's looks through apple shaped embers bursting out of fire when wet apple leaves dried. Fire was a necessity for Man, for Man made his living being a fire-eater. The fire-eater wanted fire that gives birth, of fireworks, exploding fire. Man moved a long green apple stalk through fire to burn fire more. Man took a dropp and swallowed it. Man took another dropp and spat it into the fire. Suddenly Man realized what he needed and waxed on a piece of paper: fire must drink applejack for fire is becoming moldy, and he spat what he drunk mingled with apple-tasting spit. House is moldy too, Woman remembered and woman's heart became a rotten apple.. Fire was quenching as Woman closed her eyelids, apple peels, longing for house. House may be moldy, but house is not empty. Woman molded house the like, house full of candle lights and fireflies. Woman left Man's fire quenched and remained an apple scented candle. House melts easily and hardens quickly, Woman too. Woman abandoned Man not to be melt. That is old fire in Woman, as she stalks on apple waxed earth toward house.
poem by Afrodita Nikolova
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Apple
red shiny apple
in your
throat, do you still breathe inside your heart?
red shiny apple
between my legs these friends of my thighs
i am a tree and you are that woman
craving for the red shiny apple
in my garden
i do not claim innocence for my wanton actions
before the snake and
my God
i will say i will always love you
bend over me woman and i will lay open my mouth
fill it with your tongue
pour in the drops of apple juice
to my cracking lips
water my garden and fill it with flowers from your hair
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ain't That Just Like A Woman
Adam was as happy as a man can be
Til he started messin with an old apple tree
Ain't that just like a woman
Ain't that just like a woman
Ain't that just like a woman she'll do it every time
You can buy a woman clothes give her money on the side
No matter what you do she ain't never satisfied
Ain't that just like a woman
Ain't that just like a woman
Ain't that just like a woman she'll do it every time
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Adam and Eve Apple Fantasy
I am bored Adam
I am bored Eve
Let's walk together in the garden
It is afternoon Adam
It is afternoon Eve
Our tummies are empty
Let's have something to eat
It is beautiful garden of Eden
How wonderful the fruit trees!
Adam look honey
This beautiful Apple tree
No Eve this is the knowledge tree
Look Eve there is sign in the sky
Can't you see?
Lord command 'Don't eat from the apple tree'
Ha Ha Ha
Who is that?
I am serpent of the garden
Listen Adam
Listen Eve
Go pick the big apple
from the tree
Adam my honey
Do you hear me?
My stomach is aching
go get me this delicious apple
Eve I would not disobey the Lord
Oh Adam
Oh Honey
You seduce me Eve
Ooh Adam
Ooh Eve
Something happened after
we ate the apple
Go Adam get some Fig leaves
Adam Let's rest
under the shaded tree
Adam let's have babies
Eve let's have off-springs
poem by Sherif Monem
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A Song Writers Call
When the wombat calls,
as the walrus raise it head,
the serpent winds around the dead,
as I dream so deep,
the muskrat makes its mating shrills,
then a cat bird starts to sing,
as I eat apple pie by the levy,
when I drive my frozen Mercedes Benz,
as I pull up to the wine house,
in such a purple haze,
as it smells like a bit like teen spirit,
but I had a million dollars,
I just spend it all,
as I eat apple pie by the levy,
near the dock of the bay,
then I think to myself every little thing,
will be alright.
poem by Walter C. Edwards
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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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0291 Before the Fall
All was quiet in the Garden of Eden;
the apple hung there, ripe, uneaten;
the serpent's voice remained unheard;
and not a fig leaf stirred.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Apple Pie Sweet Stuff
Sweet love like honey-bunch-oaks,
rub me down like mummylocks,
the core so round and deep,
juice be the seeds,
candy apple-red-bone,
maybe that's why she stay,
cause that woman love sweet-talk,
never thought I would see the day,
that my arms would be hugging,
back to the sweet stuff,
I'm not trying to wife her,
cause she wouldn't man me,
that apple pie good as a pecan pie,
wears glasses to protect from stream,
cooking smoke into the flame,
call her red-bone-honeyoaks,
seduction oh baby oh my,
digging into the core of fire,
like that apple won't be-tomarrow,
what a pie if you had one,
my apple pie sweet stuff.
poem by Tommy Laster
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The Temptation Of Marvin
there is an apple
hanging on the tree
there is woman picking it
and biting it
there is no snake
it is dark and the place
is just lighted by
fireflies and up in the sky
the stars are silent
you are naked
bathing with the light of
the moon
there is this heat
between your legs
that you feel
she says' the apple is sweet'
and wants to
share a bite with you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Apple Scruffs
Now Ive watched you sitting there
Seen the passers-by all stare
Like you have no place to go
But theres so much they dont know about apple scruffs
Youve been stood around for years
Seen my smiles and touched my tears
How its been a long, long time
And how youve been on my mind, my apple scruffs
Apple scruffs, apple scruffs
How I love you, how I love you
In the fog and in the rain
Through the pleasures and the pain
On the step outside you stand
With your flowers in your hand, my apple scruffs
While the years they come and go
Now, your love must surely show me
That beyond all time and space
Were together face to face, my apple scruffs
Apple scruffs, apple scruffs
How I love you, how I love you
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Her Hidden Treasure
Her flame was only for the women –
Not for us unlucky men;
A weakness lay for feminine way:
To feel an even fairer skin
In silky slide.
Her lips were for the satin love that
Only flows from rising breast;
The creamy tan was not for man
To pull towards a chiselled chest
In weathered hide.
Her hidden treasure down below
Would shy away from macho length
And only rouse upon the blouse
Undone by other sapphic strength –
In time, inside!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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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Danse Macabre
We all must learn to dance the danse macabre
Dance our wishes, dance in constant revolution
It all began with the apple and the arbre
Not to forget that we are humans still libre
Not look into those fiery orbs of perdition
We all will learn to dance the danse macabre
From time to time sing hymn a hosanna
If only we keep our inner motivation
It all began with the apple and the arbre
We must continue and sing a tra la la
Keeping our sights on that higher elevation
We all must know to dance the danse macabre
On land and on sea we see the rhea and orca
Frolicking and swimming with some apprehension
Not to forget the eaten apple at the arbre
Our acts of love must match our words with oevres
To insure for us a happy conclusion
This is not a dance with serpent diable
Who in the garden Eden circled the arbre
August 19,2008
poem by Ben Gieske
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Aya
Why should there be rich people in my country and,
The government still go begging?
Why should many people put on gold chain and,
Still say that they are hungry?
I do not understand it because,
I am Aya in the land of the poor.
Ten years of love and ten years after,
And of the governments begging left and right;
But if it looks like an apple and tastes like an apple then,
It is an apple!
Twenty years of love and twenty years after,
And my people are still hungry with gold chains around their necks!
I still do not understand it.
How long will you stay in poverty with these gold chains around you?
How long will you keep on begging with all these rich people around?
I still do not get it;
For many people are still sleeping under the bridges!
And their governments clam to have rule over them.
If it looks like a woman and performs like a woman then,
It is a woman!
For the blood has stopped and the soldiers are advancing in;
And i need a cover to safegard myself in this world.
I cannot count the stars in the heavens above,
But do give me some water to quench my thirst;
For i am from Ur with love and,
I am prepared to visit my people in the village of love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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In This Poem
in this poem when i speak
about myself in sadness
actually i speak about the
sadness of the whole world,
from a mole i move to the mountain
from one apple we move from the apple to one
and one is intangible
and one is invicible
and one is universal
like a fan with many fingers
but it is the fan of the world
so when i speak about a woman
on love unrequited i may start with a name
like a rose, or a woman named Helen of Troy
or just a plain Maria
whose sadness is as specific as
my own sadness but when it is written in poetry
and read by everyone
Maria is lost what is taken in is the sadness of the world
it is just like us: there is no ric anymore or a candice or
anyone else but just the universal man
the universal woman
because the poem is an expression of the world
unto itself
we become mere specks of dusts
sands of time's cannister
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You ARE A Woman :)
You are a woman,
A strong woman,
A grown woman,
One who WON'T give me what I want just cause I want it woman.
He needs you woman,
A loving woman,
Non-trusting woman,
One who knows the difference between right and wrong woman.
I found a woman,
You're one of em,
So many love em,
You just need to see the places you can be woman.
Hear me woman,
Don't fear me woman,
You're near me woman,
We all face strife, gotta change yo life woman.
See me woman,
No fake or frontin,
Can't be me woman,
For I am a man and you need to be a WOMAN!
['Enpowering women since the age of -9 months :) ']
poem by Tamell Bailey
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Now that august is gone
Now that august is gone
And we all know that all augusts come and go
Is this woman? a woman of vertue,
Is this woman? a super woman
Is this woman? a woman of mission and vision
Is this woman? classy and stylish
Is this woman? preffesional or house wife
And the woman of action and motion
A woman of courage and resilence
A woman of liberation and liberty
A woman of passion and compassion
A woman of thoughts and opinions
A woman of empathy and sympathy
A woman of concerns and kindness
.
A woman of confrontation or insecurity
A woman of altracation or tranquility
A woman of ambition or armunition
A woman of redeemtion or detention
A woman of power or affection
Is this woman a woman
I am not questining you, woman!
I was questioning this woman
poem by Jacques Sprenkie Mateya
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Apple Seed
Spring is here
love it so dear.
Being an apple seed,
and doing my good deed.
Keeping the doctor away,
for many years this tree will stay.
Just waiting for picking time
and watching workers as they climb.
Seed to apple so sweet
working so hard what a feat.
Apple cider to apple pie,
selling apples for people to buy.
Being an apple seed
and doing my good deed.
Being picked off this tree
from this place I will flee.
wrote 4-30-07
In The Basement Sleeps A Serpent
An apple
on her moiré red silk
sits daintily posed,
awaiting to be stripped
unto her porcelain
and in the perfect time
an apple can brew
the perfect intoxication
and piquant poison
The keys
that we rummage for
and constantly hunts
like gilded silvers
with insufficient silhouettes,
sound, weight or sex
are the same keys
that shall unlatch
the doors it bolted
The doves and crows
wear different cloaks,
guffaw different songs,
and their gusts rev
different noises
in different immensities
but in the firmament's height
they are no different
as they both escape in flight
The stream, the ravine,
the moth, the hibiscus—
Everything suspended
in between the fences
of mad and holy
possess several floors
inveigling on the façade
but in every basement
sleeps a serpent.
poem by Norman Santos
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Love Apple
The apple was yet to be red
Yet some tasted it
It tasted sour to some
And mixed to some
There were so many
Waiting for the apple
To be red.
When the apple turned red
Some tried it
Some joined in a hurry
Some in light some in darkness
Never the less
The apple grew bigger and bigger
And turned red and more red
Day by day
People increased in number
Eating, tasting
Coming and going
Making their own judgements
Once for all.
They kept on going down the hill
For all time to come.
poem by Subrat Pradhan
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