I don't have a dime left. I am dependent on my friends for food and a small old-age pension.
quote by Bela Lugosi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Dependence
I like to be dependent, and so for ever
with warmth and care of my mother
my father , to love, kiss and embrace
wear life happily in all their grace.
I like to be dependent, and so for ever
on my kith and kin, for they all shower
harsh and warm advices, complaints
full wondering ,true and info giants.
I like to be dependent, and so for ever
for my friends, chat and want me near
with domestic,family and romantic tips
colleagues as well , guide me work at risks.
I like to be dependent, and so for ever
for my neighbours too, envy at times
when at my rise of fortune like to hear
my daily steps , easy and odd things too.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Overweight with Food
Are you just a tub of lard and
Vastly overweight?
Do you think that when you die you'll
Need a piano crate
To act as coffin for your frame? -
Chosen as you die in shame, with
Only you to take the blame
For years of eating much the same:
A daily calorific fest
Gourmands of your ilk digest!
Is your heart in final fling and
Nearly set to burst?
Are your arteries bunged and clogged and
Feeling now the worst
For wear? - your aneurysm fit to blow
While blood as thick as rising dough
Cries 'Halt! ' to any hope of flow:
A dreadful state to put on show
In front of any nurse!
Best you hail a hearse.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Cravin' Raven
The raven searches for food to consume.
He flies high and low,
Yet none does he find.
He thinks this is not a very good sign.
Soon, food at last, and this the meatless kind.
He has watched from afar and knows
This food is left each day on the step;
Not in the garden for humans to grow.
Swooping down to inspect this food
The milkman is gone making this a stop.
This is a treat beyond compare.
Everyday, the man makes a drop.
The raven pecks, inspects, and thinks
“The bottle is hard; my beak must not break.”
Maybe here, there, the search goes on!
Frustration and turmoil is all this creates!
More pecking he does, more frustrated he is;
This insaneness makes a bird lose his mind.
“There has to be a way.
What must I do to reach the food that is inside? ”
He pecks all around and discovers the top
The lid on the bottle is paper-like thin.
His beak will go through this fine cover,
And the treasure inside he definitely wins.
Each day he returns with knife, fork and spoon.
Taking part in this feast, a rare delicacy.
“No more searching for food must I do,
Now I can drink to fill my small belly.”
Generously, he invites friends to the feast
They will enjoy this food he is savin’.
I must not be a pig and eat all for myself.
I’ll invite friends to savor this food I’m cravin.’
The man of the house becomes aware of his loss
Loudly proclaiming no more food, and all-out war
To quote a phrase from the poet, Edgar Alan Poe
Nevermore……..Nevermore……….Nevermore!
poem by Diane Wright
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Syrup Sponge
Pour a pint of cream
Upon my spongy bulge!
Scoop me with a
Hefty spoon;
Taste my essence -
Do you swoon?
Feed your self-esteem; indulge
In me until you burst -
Death by syrup sponge - you're cursed!
And as the count in inches gain
Upon your weary waist, the strain
Will tell, but you'll not care -
Steeped in sponge, you're unaware!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food
food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Salad is Incompatible with Life
Yes, my waist is fifty inches -
Big for me because I'm short.
And yes, I like my cheddar cheese
When partnered with a vintage port.
Okay, okay, that double cream
Is always served with pud,
And cake and biscuits with my tea
Are just no bloody good
For my poor hardened arteries,
But see my point of view,
Please dear wifey if you please,
A Salad makes me spew!
I'd rather eat a bowl of air
Than crunch away on greens;
Drink water from the toilet bowl
Or nibble on my jeans!
But salad! Are you there?
You know it makes me snappy -
So let me fill my face with grub,
Stay fat, and die young happy!
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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America is becoming more and more dependent upon imports from foreign manufacturers than we are exports from our country in all fields: in appliances, in clothing, even food. This year America may become for the first time in its history a net food importer.
quote by Marcy Kaptur
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mad man, once a mother's love.
In a dirty string-like cloth, bottom and chest bare
A body in patches, and dried wounds show
In supplication, hands held out ghostly, for food or dime
Not food not a dime, but sadist's stone,
His stomach rumbles, he rummages his bundle of rags
A rotten banana peel, his lunch it makes
Moons counted, a mother, like any other
Got a sweet product of her womb, kissed like other
She had loved him, yes, a bundle of joy he was.
Powers, the times, the earth it would be drenched, her tears,
Sight of her son, her soul sinks.
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cold Dark Small Room
cold dark small room
locked door, no more food
three little children, left here to play
fend for yourself is what he'd say
no light for days, no food for weeks
time has come to have our treat
play by the rules is what he'd say
then we would eat and bathe
cold dark small room
how I miss your solitude
wish I could wish I might
find some peace warm tonight
poem by Jeannie Schmidt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hey Mr. Millionaire (live)
Went down across that borderline
Down in the planet Mexico.
Bought some tequila big sack o whack.
I let go the Peso; I couldnt get back.
Hey, Mr. Millionaire! Hey, Mr. Millionaire!
Can you loan this poor-boy a dime?
Walking and crossing the border line
Way on the planet London.
Bought a Rolls Royce and a Jaguar;
It DOES in fact matter how rich you are.
Hey, Mr. Millionaire! Hey, Mr. Million!
Can you loan this poor-boy a dime?
I moved on across that borderline
Deep on the planet Louisiana.
Threw some dice it was oh, so nice,
But it left me eatin red beans & rice.
Hey, Mr. Millionaire! Hey, Mr. Million!
Could you loan this poor-boy a dime?
Hey, Mr. Millionaire! Hey, Mr. Million!
Loan this poor-boy a dime.
Loan this poor-boy a dime.
Turn yourself into a BANKER!
He-e-ey! [He-e-ey!]
He-e-ey! [He-e-ey!]
Hey! [Hey!]
Hey! [Hey!]
Hey! [Hey!] Hey! [Hey!]
Hey! [Hey!]
Hey! [Hey!]
Hey! [Hey!] Hey! [Hey!] Hey! [Hey!] Hey! [Hey!]
song performed by by ZZ Top
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some food
Some food is
Medicine...
Medicine is some food...
Some food is poison...
Some food is Tenson...
Some food is Fear...
Some food is lovely...
Some food is Bland...
Some food is sweety...
Some food is spicy...
Some food is nothing...
Food is not only food
A good eatable medicine...
At only some food...
Some food...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Small Town
Well I was born in a small town
And I live in a small town
Probly die in a small town
Oh, those small communities
All my friends are so small town
My parents live in the same small town
My job is so small town
Provides little opportunity
Educated in a small town
Taught the fear of jesus in a small town
Used to daydream in that small town
Another boring romantic thats me
But Ive seen it all in a small town
Had myself a ball in a small town
Married an l.a. doll and brought her to this small town
Now shes small town just like me
No I cannot forget where it is that I come from
I cannot forget the people who love me
Yeah, I can be myself here in this small town
And people let me be just what I want to be
Got nothing against a big town
Still hayseed enough to say
Look whos in the big town
But my bed is in a small town
Oh, and thats good enough for me
Well I was born in a small town
And I can breathe in a small town
Gonna die in this small town
And thats probly where theyll bury me
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A retired teacher paid $62,000 towards her pension and nothing, yes nothing, for full family medical, dental and vision coverage over her entire career. What will we pay her? $1.4 million in pension benefits and another $215,000 in health care benefit premiums over her lifetime.
quote by Chris Christie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We can create the ultimate job security by becoming less dependent on the organization for which we work and more dependent on our own resources.
quote by Bo Bennett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The female of the genus homo is economically dependent on the male. He is her food supply.
quote by Charlotte Perkins Gilman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As long as we're dependent on those fossil fuels, we're dependent on the Middle East. If we are not victims, we're certainly captives.
quote by John McHugh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My parents had a wonderful marriage, but it was a very dependent relationship. My mother was entirely dependent on my father because that's how it was in those days.
quote by Erika Slezak
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old friends die on you, and they're irreplaceable. You become dependent.
quote by Lionel Blue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Food For Everything!
Meals are the food for the body;
Knowledge is the food for the mind;
Meditation is the food for the spirit;
Music is the food for the love of heart;
Dreams are the food for the consciousness;
Prayer is the food for the Almighty;
Love is the food for the living heart;
Thoughts are the food for the brain;
Colourful ink is the food for the pen;
Ideas are the food for the stories;
Truth is the food for the will;
Sun’s energy is the food for the plants;
Plants are the food for the living beings;
But one man’s food is another man’s poison!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our children's health and well-being are dependent on our commitment to promoting food access and good eating habits at home, at school and in the community.
quote by Rod Blagojevich
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hiram Helsel
Air -- "Three Grains of Corn"
Once was a boy, age fifteen years,
Hiram Helsel was his name,
And he was sick two years or so;
He has left this world of pain;
His friends they miss this lovely boy,
That was patient, kind and brave.
He left them all for him to mourn --
He is sleeping in his grave.
He was a small boy of his age,
When he was five years or so
Was shocked by lightning while to play
And it caused him not to grow,
He was called little Hi. Helsel
By all friends that knew him well --
His life was sad, as you shall hear,
And the truth to you I'll tell.
His parents parted when he was small,
And both are married again.
How sad it was for them to meet
And view his last remains.
He was living with his father then,
As many a friend can tell;
'Tis said his father's second wife
That she did not use him well.
Just before little Hiram died --
His uncle and aunt were there --
He kissed them both -- bid them farewell,
They left him with a prayer.
Now he is gone, Oh! let him rest;
His soul has found a haven,
For grief and woe ne'er enters there,
In that place called heaven.
poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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