By the second tour I had rice cakes and hummus with me, and I was jumping rope in my room.
quote by Taylor Dayne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Jumping Rope
We are jumping rope together
we are jumping rope together
unwinding naughty knots of tether
we are jumping rope together
We are jumping rope together
we are skipping beats together
pouting panting chasing chants
unraveling rigid wraps to sever
We are jumping rope together
we are jumping rope together
jointly jogging jagged breath
suddenly we
sneeze!
poem by Randy Resh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jumping Someone Else's Train
Don't say what you mean
You might spoil your face
If you walk in the crowd
You won't leave any trace
It's always the same
You're jumping someone else's train
It won't take you long
To learn the new smile
You'll have to adapt
Or you'll be out of style
It's always the same
You're jumping someone else's train
If you pick up on it quick
You can say you were there
Again and again and again
You're jumping someone else's train
It's the latest wave
That you've been craving for
The old ideal
Was getting such a bore
Now you're back in line
Going not quite quite as far
But in half the time
Everyone's happy
They're finally all the same
'cause everyone's jumping
Everyone else's train
Jumping someone else's train
Jumping someone else's train
Jumping someone else's train
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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October Silk
I liked the rice candy
at the Chinese market
at University Heights
where the Chinese lady
with the blue-black bangs
wrapped Almond cookies
in cellophane packets
where Pork Fried Rice
came in square containers
with no.3 choice of chow mein,
as people lined up out the door
and into the street
Four lanes of heavy bags
of Jasmine rice and Plum paste
of Green tea and rice cakes
and I stumble into the aisle
You like cookies? the Chinese man
asks holding up the small bag,
leaning over the rows of Bok Choy
and loose-packed Snow-peas
The Chinese lady
moves in October silk
she gives me my Rice candy
and a sample of dried Plums,
the fragrant smell of Jasmine
and Vanilla Bean heavy in the air.
poem by Louise Marie DelSanto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Living In A World That Some Can Not Leave
Living high in a castle,
Without a mote.
Isn't easy to do...
When one searches the horizon,
For a delivery...
Of an awaited treasured boat.
And one who demands,
They can command steps quicker...
While jumping double dutch,
Without a visable rope.
Should be left alone...
If a commitment to doing this is shown.
Living in a castle and there is no mote...
And waiting for delivery of a big boat,
While jumping double dutch without a visable rope...
Some need!
People should be left to live lives they believe!
Living high in a castle,
Without a mote.
Isn't easy to do...
When one searches the horizon,
For a delivery...
Of an awaited treasured boat.
And one who demands,
They can command steps quicker...
While jumping double dutch,
Without a visable rope.
Should be left alone...
If a commitment to doing this is shown.
People should be left to live lives they believe!
Living in a castle and there is no mote...
And waiting for delivery of a big boat,
While jumping double dutch without a visable rope...
Some need!
People should be left to live lives they believe!
Living in a castle and there is no mote...
And waiting for delivery of a big boat,
While jumping double dutch without a visable rope...
Some need!
People should be left to live lives they believe!
Living in a world that some can not leave.
Living in a castle and there is no mote...
And waiting for delivery of a big boat,
While jumping double dutch without a visable rope...
Some need!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Eating rice cakes is like chewing on a foam coffee cup, only less filling.
quote by Dave Barry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do not expect too much
This is it, this is poetry
Written by this man
He is looking by his window
To the world like a little boy
Still wondering, scribbling
Some figures of man and
Superman, putting them wings
Imagining that soon they will fly,
Do not expect too much
I myself do not have wings
I do not promise you any
I am simply writing the view
The green ricefields I do not
Have rice for you to cook I do
Not have water for you to drink
I have these words, only you
Can convert them to steamed
Rice to cakes to bacons to ham
To fish to sea to clouds to sun
Or simply coffee for you to sip
When you still hunger for breakfast.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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wrapping rice cakes
mother complains the maid could never
do things her way
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Bush warbler
Bush warbler:
shits on the rice cakes
on the porch rail.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Matsuo Basho
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wrapping the rice cakes
Wrapping the rice cakes,
with one hand
she fingers back her hair.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Matsuo Basho
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rat 6
do you remember
rice fields? try imagining
the green rice fields,
put some hills
more hills, and put a gap
between two hills,
and put the sun
shining brightly
and then put some black
buffaloes grazing at the
foot of the hills,
and then on the left side
try putting a nipa hut
a window and a little girl
looking out for sparrows
and on the right side
put the running river and
a jumping fish
do you still think that this
could be your home?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Jumping red
My bouncing
My tumbling
My flopping
My unsteady
My jumping red
My laughing
My crying
My loving
My caring
My endearing
My jump red
My mind
My heart
My soul
My angel
My savior
My jumping red
My past
My present
My future
My fear
My hope
My jumping red
My want
My need
My being
My jumping red
poem by Vincent Armone
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Rice
On table plateful cooked rice,
Still the steam emits.
On chair I did cling,
Waited my wife curry to bring.
Beyond the plate, I behold
The farm wet with solicitude
Where the peasants
Sow the seeds.
Hot rice brings to the mind,
The paddy plants pined,
And the debt cankered peasants,
Whose sweats the balm to welted awns.
Held the rusty scythes,
And bent like the scythes,
The darkened women sang throat opened,
And the folk song my core vibrated.
Cooked rice still steamy,
And white purely,
As the mind of farmer,
The climate and price fall boiled ever.
Born to toil in the soil,
Farmers return to the soil,
To feed the worms,
Hanging on a rope hopeless.
When my dear curry brought,
I painfully thought:
No life without rice,
And without the peasant no rice.
poem by Fabiyas M V
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Rice Being Cooked
warm
steamy
bubbling
knocking the lid of the pot
vital
bright
shiny rice makes a living room
sweet as many times as I bite
fun as family gets together eating
mom, I want to see you
smelling rice being cooked
The Day I Hate Rice
The day I hate rice
Is several rare day in a year
When I don't eat rice
I don't want to eat rice
I don't want to see it
Because I hate its taste
And I hate to think about it
If I have the day I hate rice
Then you'll know that I don't feel well
I'm bored of this procession
I want to run from this life
Because I begin to hate myself
...just a little while
And everything will be back to normal again
That's the meaning of
The day I hate rice
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Illusion and ignorance
To mistake a rope for a snake
Or to mistake a snake for a rope
Is illusion in perception.
To take a rope for rope and
A snake for snake is knowledge.
To take a rope not for a rope
And a snake not for a snake
Is ignorance. We employ
All the three at variant times
At different degrees in life.
29.042010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Magical Mystery Tour
(LennonMcCartney)
[Roll up! Roll up for the magical mystery tour!
Step right this way!]
Roll up, roll up for the mystery tour
Roll up, roll up for the mystery tour
Roll up (And that's an invitation), roll up for the mystery tour
Roll up (To make a reservation), roll up for the mystery tour
The magical mystery tour is waiting to take you away
Waiting to take you away
Roll up, roll up for the mystery tour
Roll up, roll up for the mystery tour
Roll up (We've got everything you need), roll up for the mystery tour
Roll up (Satisfaction guaranteed), roll up for the mystery tour
The magical mystery tour is hoping to take you away
Hoping to take you away
Mystery trip
Aaaah... the magical mystery tour
Roll up, roll up for the mystery tour
Roll up (And that's an invitation), roll up for the mystery tour
Roll up (To make a reservation), roll up for the mystery tour
The magical mystery tour is coming to take you away
Coming to take you away
The magical mystery tour is dying to take you away
Dying to take you away, take you today
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We'd be working in our motel room through the night, and I'd come up with an idea at two in the morning, and he'd start jumping up and down, pacing across the room, or whatever.
quote by Arthur Hiller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Inspired by Issa - the beach wind blows
over their
boobs and butts
the beach wind blows
inspired by
over rice cakes and jelly
the good spring breeze
blows
-Issa,1807
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The End Of The Tour
Theres a girl with a crown and a scepter
Whos on wlsd
And she says that the scene isnt what its been
And shes thinking of going home
That its old and its totally over now
And its old and its over, its over now
And its over, its over, its over now
I can see myself
At the end of the tour
When the road disappears
If theres any more people around
When the tour runs aground
And if youre still around
Then well meet at the end of the tour
The engagements are booked through the end of the world
So well meet at the end of the tour
Never to part since the day we met
Out on interstate 91
I was bent metal you were a flaming wreck
When we kissed at the overpass
I was sailing along with the people
Driving themselves to distraction inside me
Then came a knock on the door which was odd
And the picture abruptly changed
At the end of the tour
When the road disappears
If theres any more people around
When the tour runs aground
And if youre still around
Then well meet at the end of the tour
The engagements are booked through the end of the world
So well meet at the end of the tour
This was the vehicle these were the people
You opened the door and expelled all the people
This was the vehicle these were the people
You opened the door and expelled all the people
This was the vehicle these were the people
You let them go
At the end of the tour
When the road disappears
If theres any more people around
When the tour runs aground
And if youre still around
Then well meet at the end of the tour
The engagements are booked through the end of the world
So well meet at the end of the tour
And were never gonna tour again
No, were never gonna tour again
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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