How like herrings and onions our vices are in the morning after we have committed them.
quote by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Market Women’s Cries
APPLES
COME buy my fine wares,
Plums, apples and pears.
A hundred a penny,
In conscience too many:
Come, will you have any?
My children are seven,
I wish them in Heaven;
My husband ’s a sot,
With his pipe and his pot,
Not a farthen will gain them,
And I must maintain them.
ONIONS
Come, follow me by the smell,
Here are delicate onions to sell;
I promise to use you well.
They make the blood warmer,
You’ll feed like a farmer;
For this is every cook’s opinion,
No savoury dish without an onion;
But, lest your kissing should be spoiled,
Your onions must be thoroughly boiled:
Or else you may spare
Your mistress a share,
The secret will never be known:
She cannot discover
The breath of her lover,
But think it as sweet as her own.
HERRINGS
Be not sparing,
Leave off swearing.
Buy my herring
Fresh from Malahide,
Better never was tried.
Come, eat them with pure fresh butter and mustard,
Their bellies are soft, and as white as a custard.
Come, sixpence a dozen, to get me some bread,
Or, like my own herrings, I soon shall be dead.
poem by Jonathan Swift
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I do not like onions. It's so funny because I am probably one of the least picky eaters ever. Pretty much any type of new food, I'll try it, I'll eat it. But onions, and pork. Pork and onions.
quote by Stacie Orrico
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Committed
committed! !
me and my boyfriend have made a pact
we are committed and thats the fact
he will not screw any other women apart from me
and i will not seduce anyone else apart from him
committed! !
we will be a heathy twosome or so it seems
with this thought in our mind our relationship will gleam
yes sir we are a committed bunch
the world will sing praises of our relationship
the world will stand and admire our friendship
committed! !
he will screw me till his hearts content
as i behind his back will screw all his friends
he on the other hand will bang all my friends
yes sir we are a committed and our relationship is as firm as steel
committed! ! !
it's a word not to be taken lightly
it's the bed rock of all relationships strong and mighty
yes indeed we are committed
he can't screw anyone and i ca'nt be promiscious it's not permitted
we are so so very committed
committed! !
yes sir committed indeed
we are the two us sailin merreyly in our ship
when he is angry with me he does the maid
when i am upset with him i get laid
committed! !
we are thinck as thives
till his money runs out and i have fullfilled all my needs
oh sir we are so so so very committed....................
poem by Anuj Tikku
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Mrs Bryces Onions
mrs bryces onions
Unmentionable as from today
They say, they're turning grey
Once proud shiny roundy
To be foundy in most fertile groundies
Now rotten to the core
Mrs bryces onions are corrupted
DEAD
They are no more!
Withered battered shattered
cheated and defeated
by the flux of ever changing climes
No more the darling of affections
Left off from vegetable selections
In the glitzy superstore
Laid low and easily forgotten
Cos they're stinky black and rotten
Festering within the plot land
Mrs Bryces ONIONS, are no more!
poem by Yvette Smith
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Poetry AWOL
Poetry deserted me
with metaphor and simile.
So the rain fell like.......rain.
And onions were just onions.
No response in Lost and Found.
I miss them now they're not around.
poem by Fiona Lochhead
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We make a ladder for ourselves of our vices, if we trample those same vices underfoot.
quote by Saint Aurelius Augustine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Upon the Silent Woman
Hear, you bad writers, and though you not see,
I will inform you where you happy be:
Provide the most malicious thoughts you can,
And bend them all against some private man,
To bring him, not his vices, on the stage;
Your envy shall be clad in some poor rage,
And your expressing of him shall be such,
That he himself shall think he hath no touch.
Where he that strongly writes, although he mean
To scourge but vices in a laboured scene,
Yet private faults shall be so well express'd
As men do get 'em, that each private breast,
That finds these errors in itself, shall say,
'He meant me, not my vices, in the play.'
poem by Francis Beaumont
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We make ourselves a ladder out of our vices if we trample the vices themselves underfoot.
quote by Saint Augustine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Three (O'clock) in the Morning
At three in the morning I used to be sleeping an untroubled
sleep in my bed.
But lately at three in the morning I'm tossing and turning,
Awakened by hypochondria, and gas, and nameless dread,
Whose name I've been learning. (worry)
At three in the morning I brood about what my cholesterol
count might reveal,
And the pains in my chest start progressing from gentle to racking,
While certain intestinal problems make clear that the onions
I ate with my meal
Plan on counter attacking.
At three in the morning I look toward the future with blankets
pulled over my ears,
And all of my basic equipment is distinctly diminished.
My gums are receding, my blood pressure's high, and I can't
begin listing my fears
Or I'll never get finished.
At three in the morning I used to be sleeping but lately I wake
and reflect
That my girlhood has gone and I'll now have to manage without it.
They tell me that I'm heading into my prime. From the previews
I do not expect
To be crazy about it.
poem by Judith Viorst
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Committed to love
I must grow committed to my parents.
Yes, I want shelter;
I must grow committed to my siblings.
Yes, I need some support.
The same way to wife for a rest and
As regards kids for love.
Why must I, the old, live committed to grandkids?
I shall be gone before they grew up.
Is it for my progeny?
29.08.2002
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Battle
Dames should be doomed to dungeons
Who masticate raw onions.
She was the cuddly kind of Miss
A man can love to death;
But when I sought to steal a kiss
I wilted from a breath
With onion odour so intense
I lost my loving sense.
Yet she was ever in my thought
Like some exotic flower,
And so a garlic bulb I bought
And chewed it by the hour;
Then when we met I thrilled to see
'Twas she who shrank from me.
So breath to breath we battled there,
To dominate each other;
And though her onions odious were,
My garlic was a smother;
Till loth I said: 'If we would kiss
Let's call an armistice.
'Now we have proved that we are true
To our opinions,
My garlic I'll give up if you
Give up your onions.'
And so next day with honey sips
How sweet her lips!
poem by Robert William Service
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You sell more herrings on the market than sole.
As Far As My Eye Can See In My Body’s Senses
All the trees all their branches all of their leaves
The grass at the foot of the rocks and the houses en masse
Far off the sea that your eye bathes
These images of day after day
The vices the virtues so imperfect
The transparency of men passing among them by chance
And passing women breathed by your elegant obstinacies
Your obsessions in a heart of lead on virgin lips
The vices the virtues so imperfect
The likeness of looks of permission with eyes you conquer
The confusion of bodies wearinesses ardours
The imitation of words attitudes ideas
The vices the virtues so imperfect
Love is man incomplete
poem by Paul Eluard
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Sometimes
Sometimes,
The onions
Come to my rescue.
Sometimes, the
Choking on the food.
Sometimes, the smoke
From the firewood.
The tears in my eyes
Just wouldn’t stop
And I know the reason
Why.
But have to hide them
From my children.
If they ask me why,
I can’t tell them why.
Sometimes, hiding
Doesn’t work.
So if they see it,
They wonder why…
Then I tell them
Stories of how
Invisible particles
Prick my eyes.
So now, they just guess
It could be the onions,
The smoke, the particles
Or the choking that plagues
Mummy sometimes,
Don’t know why…
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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With A Motive Not To Be Provoked
There are people with a motive,
To be...
Left alone.
And many are to this committed.
Many are to this committed.
And there are people more devoted,
To keep their peace condoned.
And many are to this committed.
Many are to this committed.
To get away from all the alibis.
And those who live their lives making up lies.
With so many to this committed.
As if there's benefit in it.
To change what they say in a minute.
This limits and this diminishes.
This limits and this diminishes.
People have a motive,
To be...
Alone!
And doing this free without limits.
And doing this free without limits.
And doing this free without limits.
And doing this free without limits.
To get away from all the alibis.
And doing this free without limits.
And doing this free without limits.
And those who live their lives making up lies.
To change what they say in a minute.
And doing this free without limits.
And doing this free without limits.
There are people with a motive,
To be...
Left alone.
And many are to this committed.
Many are to this committed.
And doing this free without limits.
And doing this free without limits.
Doing this free without limits.
Doing this free without limits.
There are people with a motive,
To be...
Left alone.
And many are to this committed.
Many are to this committed.
And doing this free without limits.
Doing this free without limits.
With a motive not to be provoked!
And...
Many are to this committed.
Many are to this committed.
And doing this free without limits.
Doing this free without limits.
With a motive not to be provoked!
And...
Many are to this committed.
And...
Doing this free without limits.
And...
With a motive not to be provoked!
And...
Many are to this committed.
And...
Doing this free without limits.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In the name of God
Atrocities committed when crusaders fought
Women, children murdered
Were Non believers of Antioch/Marat
Jerusalem sieged for a noble Cause
Saracens slaughtered, plundering by holy squad
History sometimes renders us distraught
All crimes committed in the name of God.
It's the Ideal everyone wants to reach
Closer to God is the sacred haught
The politics and economy is secretly sought
Are selling dreams, these fanatic bigots
Yet all crimes committed in the name of God
Shia against Sunnis or Deobandi, Barelvie
All worship same God, still at odd
Conspiring and scheming
Considers oneself a believer, but others NOT
Yet all crimes committed in the name of God
Slaughtering innocents, calling it Jihad
Ruthless are these savage lots
Salvation of afterlife seeking
Atonement for this one, never thought
Yet all crimes committed in the name of God.
poem by Samima Shah
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Onions And Ginger
I am on it!
I am sitting on it;
But, use onions and ginger to prepare my food,
For, i am still searching for the letters.
Across the skies!
Across the waters,
Across, the seas,
And across tha land;
But, i am still searching for the letters,
So, use onions and ginger to prepare my food.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I Am Life
I am...
Committed.
To unlimitness to give it.
I am...
Seeking to be free.
Yeah.
I am...
Committed.
To unlimitness to give it.
And to admit...
The benefit.
I am...
Committed.
To unlimitness to give it,
And this seems to fit...
Me,
Just perfectly.
Yes, I am...
Committed.
To unlimitness to give it.
With a happiness to give and get.
I am...
Devoted to possibilities.
Oh,
I am...
Sleepless until I attempt to reach.
I am...
Committed.
To unlimitness to give it.
I am...
Devoted to possibilities.
Oh,
I am...
Committed.
To unlimitness to give it.
I am...
Sleepless until I attempt to reach.
Oh,
I am...
Sleepless until I attempt to reach.
Yes, I am...
Life.
And, I am...
Not a substitution.
I am...
Life!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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