Try not thinking of peeling an orange. Try not imagining the juice running down your fingers, the soft inner part of the peel. The smell. Try and you can't. The brain doesn't process negatives.
quote by Doug Coupland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
The Scent Of Oranges
when you peel
the orange
i smell the thrill of
citrus
it is the same peeling
that night
when you feel like
peeling the foreskin of
my penis.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Every Angle
I'm imagining your frame
every angle
and every plane
I'm imagining your smell
the one that mingled with mine
once upon a time
thoughts of you
are picketing my brain
they refuse
to work such long hours without rest
in unstable conditions at best
they're out there every day
holding up there signs
and thoughts of no other man but you
could possibly get through
the picket lines
to enter into my mind
I'm imagining your laugh again
the one you save for your family
and your very
close
friends
I'm imagining the way you say my name
I don't know when
I'm going to hear it again
my friends can't tell
my laughter from my cries
someone tell this photograph of you
to let go of my eyes
I'm imagining your frame
I'm imagining your smell
I'm imagining your laugh again
and the way you say my name
song performed by by Ani DiFranco from Ani DiFranco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Orange juice
Orange juice mom says drink
When i am sick
It can make me thick
Orange juice i have to pick
licking mom says no
Drinking i have to do
Hate orange juice, mom says i know
Vitamin C it has
And i need to take
for my own sake
Healthy it can make me
Power it can give me
Orange juice
Is all i need
When i am in lead
With the kids at the lake.! :)
poem by michelle al G
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The Layers Of My Existence
peel me, not like an onion where you shall cry for every
layer, no, i do not require tears here, at most, you may need
only to smile, and then be so patient, as you peel me
layer by layer, as i watch, and as you carefully peel me
with your bare hands, i will allow it, all for you and your
curiousity,
you discover the erotic layer
and in there exists the desire
for an adventure, the disregarding
of sin, and then peel me further
move on,
find the layer of my
intellect, you shall find what i have
told you all about, my nerves and
common sense, my strivings to go
deeper towards my self, and then
peel me further, you see the bone
of my contentions, my hardened
principles and uncompromises
then peel me further, find the
marrow that makes all the blood
of my life, my sorrows and pains,
my exhilarations and bliss and
joys and happiness, and you will
say there is nothing more to find.
you are wrong. There is this last
peel that you cannot see. It is like
air, and it floats and it gets in,
it always finds an empty space,
and you cannot find it there anymore,
it is now inside you and you cannot
get that out of your system
you must accept this:
i have become
an essential part of you, and there is
nothing now that you can do.
you see, in peeling me, you find
no exit anymore. Whether you
you will be happy or sad, it is
already beyond my control.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Why Oranges Are Beautiful
In total frankness,
I bear no particular fondness towards any of the fruits.
I'm sure there are nut-jobs who are obsessed by oranges (or indeed amazed by apples, captured by coconuts or plum-tuckered-out with enthusiasm for plums) .
Yet, they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
And, more than once, have I found myself with stinging beauty beholders after citrus juice squirted into them.
Therefore,
If oranges are beautiful,
And I have had their beauty in my beholders on more than one clumsy occasion,
Then surely if I behold hard enough I shall be favoured with their beauty?
They are (after all) a lovely colour,
And my favourite juice (above no other) .
Also, how very satisfying they are to peel.
And they do provide a taste of the exotic.
Under waxy peel (if I were to wax poetic) ,
I see delicate white veins tangle over sweet flesh,
Where baby seeds wait and rest.
And how easy the segments are to share.
I mean,
Perhaps if the Evil Queen, had poisoned an orange rather than an apple,
She would have got a lot more done that day.
You know,
If that's the way you (or your head) rolls.
poem by Grace Roberts
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Someday
someday
i like to taste again the glass of orange juice that
you gave me
on that Sunday afternoon
when we were left alone
in the house
of your aunt.
it was so sweet &
so refreshing..
.there is no other glass of orange juice like that
in my lifetime
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Zen does not confuse spirituality with thinking about God while one is peeling potatoes. Zen spirituality is just to peel the potatoes.
quote by Alan Watts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Running Away Doesn't Free
Deciding to come out of hiding,
To run away...
From what's inside,
Kept still denied.
But then...
Why does one keep believing,
Running from something...
Frees.
Deciding to come out of hiding,
To run away...
From what's inside,
Kept still denied.
But then...
Why does one keep believing,
Running from something...
Frees.
So many do it thinking...
Running from something frees.
And keep a pace believed...
A running from something frees.
To only feel defeated,
By a running with no relief.
So many do it thinking...
Running from something frees.
And keep a pace believed...
A running from something frees.
To only feel defeated,
By a running with no relief.
Deciding to come out of hiding,
To run away...
From what's inside,
Kept still denied.
But then...
Why does one keep believing,
Running from something...
Frees.
So many do it thinking...
Running from something frees.
And keep a pace believed...
A running from something frees.
To only feel defeated,
By a running with no relief.
So many do it thinking...
Running from something frees.
And keep a pace believed...
A running from something frees.
To only feel defeated,
By a running with no relief.
It's hard to stop it but...
A running away doesn't free.
Those who have stop it know...
A running away doesn't free.
Believe or not...
Whatever isn't dropped,
Will continue to come knocking.
Oh....
A running away doesn't free.
Those who have stop it know...
A running away doesn't free.
Believe or not...
Whatever isn't dropped,
Will continue to come knocking.
Oh....
A running away doesn't free.
No. No. No...
A running away doesn't free.
There is no doubt about it...
Running away doesn't free.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Orange juice kiss
A circle of dried, sweet orange juice
Finger to mouth, the taste memories seduce
Memories of that sweet orange juice kiss
Thoughts race to the past and days of bliss
The giggling young angel standing at the bedside
The past and the present, emotions collide
Those glorious hours playing in the park
Warm sunny days before the onset of dark
When long summer day’s end and it’s time to rest
Sweet angel climbs up and lays head on my chest
If there’s one memory that brings me this bliss
It’s the memory of that sweet orange juice kiss
poem by Brian 'Peza' Perrins
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Man & woman (3) 12 / 26 / ooo in bed
1) In bed a man's fail bring a woman's sorrow, but a woman's fail bring man's
exhaustion
2) In bed the hard part ends soft, but the soft parts end hard
3) A pole and a drench/ in bed the pole is bare and dry, but the drench is full
of fluid and shade
4) In bed the hard part ends thirsty, but the soft part ends full
5) In bed a woman cares for her inner part, but a man cares for external.
6) In bed one with monthly period, but the other is with daily one.
7) In bed a woman dries her body, but a man sweats salty water.
8) In bed the soft part shrinks deeper, but the hard part struts out
9) in bed a woman topping her man can smell another woman smell
10) In bed a silent woman angers her man, but a silent man arouse his.
poem by Jabberm Alessawy
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While the storm outside is quieting down [2]
While the storm outside is quieting down
the last lightning bolts falls slamming
sounding like canon shots,
you are busy peeling an orange
and from fright you hand stops still
while we listen to the voice of the God.
While the storm outside is quieting down
the last lightning bolts falls slamming,
I polish the my pair of glasses,
you are again peeling in thin orange strips
that folds around your hand when you remember something
as if something has walked over your grave you are shuddering
while the storm outside is quieting down.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Orange
The month was June, the day was hot,
And Philip had an orange got,
The fruit was fragrant, tempting, bright,
Refreshing to the smell and sight;
Not of that puny size which calls
Poor customers to common stalls,
But large and massy, full of juice,
As any Lima can produce.
The liquor would, if squeezëd out,
Have filled a tumbler-thereabout.
The happy boy, with greedy eyes,
Surveys and re-surveys his prize.
He turns it round, and longs to drain,
And with the juice his lips to stain,
His throat and lips were parched with heat;
The orange seemed to cry, Come eat,
He from his pocket draws a knife-
When in his thoughts there rose a strife,
Which folks experience when they wish
Yet scruple to begin a dish,
And by their hesitation own
It is too good to eat alone.
But appetite o'er indecision
Prevails, and Philip makes incision.
The melting fruit in quarters came,-
Just then there passëd by a dame,
One of the poorer sort she seemed,
As by her garb you would have deemed,-
Who in her toil-worn arms did hold
A sickly infant ten months old;
That from a fever, caught in spring,
Was slowly then recovering.
The child, attracted by the view
Of that fair orange, feebly threw
A languid look-perhaps the smell
Convinced it that there sure must dwell
A corresponding sweetness there,
Where lodged a scent so good and rare-
Perhaps the smell the fruit did give
Felt healing and restorative-
For never had the child been graced
To know such dainties by their taste.
When Philip saw the infant crave,
He straightway to the mother gave
His quartered orange; nor would stay
To hear her thanks, but tripped away.
Then to the next clear spring he ran
To quench his drought, a happy man!
poem by Charles Lamb
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Something amazing
Is when you brake and burn rubber
And then you peel out
Going faster than you would
Peeling out from a cold start
tanka by Edwin Tanguma
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Sola Sistim
Come get some orange juice, it's great.
[repeated throughout the song, each time in different speaker]
My eyes burn naked,
my black cold numbers,
my insecurities,
my devious nature,
make it go away.
My rest between rubber,
my spider shadow,
my shattered dancer.
Beautiful, broken,
my crystal fingers,
beautiful, broken,
my crystal fingers.
My glass like rain,
my illumination,
my cracks are sliding,
shaker, feather,
rubber, duster,
cold, cool,
your fingers, broken,
beautiful, wonderful,
paper flaps,
how you love,
love to love,
love and stitch,
shaker, rubber, striper.
Beautiful, broken,
my crystal fingers,
beautiful, broken,
my crystal fingers.
song performed by by Underworld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Process
Leave them alone!
You pose a threat,
To their process.
'Huh?
Their process?
What Process?
Their process doesn't exist! '
Sssshhh...
Quietly.
That's why you must leave them alone.
They are not aware of it.
And you...
Trying to get them to make some sense,
Is upsetting.
Just go along with it.
'Go along with what? '
The 'process'.
'But it doesn't exist.'
You know it and I know it.
Why can't you just leave it alone...
And let them pretend?
Why is it so important to you,
That they become aware and conscious?
Why?
There are several other charities,
To which you can donate your time and efforts.
In this case...
These minds have already been wasted.
Trust me.
Why do you think I whisper to you?
There are only a few of us left with the power to think.
Trust me?
Why do you think I whisper to you?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Orange Rose (Poem 10 from Rose Series)
The orange rose,
gives you bliss,
happiness and enticement.
If you want a good time,
all you gotta do is pick up,
an orange rose,
and smell it's sweet scent.
You will feel that bliss,
happiness and enticement.
The orange rose is meant for everyone,
to pick up and smell.
It's good for you,
cuz everyone needs to be happy.
Take the orange rose....
poem by Ninja Soul
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A Green Sour Orange....
first i get an orange
a green orange, the young one
sour, but still
citrus, not pungent
but inviting, not a cure for the
wound, not easing,
it penetrates pain and
makes it more painful,
then i cut the orange,
press it
and press it some more
to get all its juices....
i do not drink it
i leave it in the glass
for all those dark nights
till every juice dries,
till what you see and feel
is the same
emptiness....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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If You Say I Am Imagining What I See
If you say I am imagining what I see,
In 'my' world.
Why is it your eyes fill with tears...
And not with stars,
Complimenting the warmth of your smile.
If you say I am imagining what I see!
And I wonder...
Could such images of you,
Standing in my view in clouded darkness...
Ever become more,
Than recurring visions of storms!
Where is the light,
That should be shining on this!
What is that which blocks my view?
What is that which smothers the beauty?
If you say I am imagining what I see...
I can tell you right now,
Which 'image' I wish and which one you are not!
If that doesn't increase your anger.
Since I have no problem removing my 'visions'.
And leaving you with all of your reality!
You wouldn't get a raised eyebrow from me,
On that one at all.
Go ahead!
You provide the clarity!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Brain Tap Shuffle
Take the worst of this quirky world
Roll it up in a ball
Add the hair of a go-go girl
Turn it into a dance that's called
The bloody...
Brain Tap Shuffle
Lose your mind
You'll see the oceans part
You'll think your goin' blind
You can talk about your daily grind
While she'll dish out the soft shoe
If makin' money doesn't suit your mind
We've got something here
Here for you
You can sit there and suck your thumb
Hear the rock and roll hum
But you're just a crazy wall flower
Till you join all your friends on the floor
And do the...
Brain Tap Shuffle
Lose your mind
You'll see the oceans part
You'll think your goin' blind
Take your clothes off and start to shake
Shake rattle and roll
Watch the walls and the ceiling quake
Let it move your body and soul
And do the...
Brain Tap Shuffle
Lose your mind
You'll see the oceans part
You'll think your goin' blind
song performed by by Steely Dan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stronger - Kelly Clarkson
vs.1 You know the bed feels warmer,
Sleeping here alone.
You know I dream in color,
And do the things I want.
You think you got the best of me,
Think you've had the last laugh.
Bet you think that everything good is gone,
Think you left me broken down.
Think that I'd come running back,
Baby you don't know me, cause you're dead wrong.
(chorus)
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger,
Stand a little taller,
Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone.
What doesn't kill you makes a fighter,
Footsteps even lighter,
Doesn't mean I'm over cause you're gone.
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, stronger,
Just me, myself and I.
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger,
Stand a little taller,
Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone.
vs.2 You heard that I was starting over with someone new,
They told you I was moving on, over you.
You didn't think that I'd come back,
I'd come back swinging.
You try to break me, but you see
(chorus)
Thanks to you I got a new thing started,
Thanks to you I'm not the broken-hearted.
Thanks to you I'm finally thinking about me,
You know in the end the day you left was just my beginning
In the end...
(chorus)
2nd part of chorus x 2
(When I'm alone)
poem by Rebecca Ryan
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