When I was a young man, I had a mentor on women and he said when you meet a woman that you think you like, don't ask her for a drink. Take her out for a bowl of soup. Because a woman who can enjoy a bowl of soup is bound to be more interesting.
quote by Art Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Away The Bowl
Our grateful hearts with temperance burn,
Away, away the bowl,
From dram shops all, our steps we turn,
Away, away the bowl;
Farewell to rum and all its harms,
Farewell the wine-cup's boasted charms,
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
See how that staggering drunkard reels!
Away, away the bowl;
Alas, the misery he reveals,
Away, away the bowl;
His children grieve, his wife's in tears!
How sad his once bright home appears!
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
We drink no more, nor buy nor sell,
Away, away the bowl!
The grog-shop's offers we repel,
Away, away the bowl.
United in a temperance band,
We 're joined in heart, we 're joined in hand,
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
poem by John Pierpont
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Soup Of The Day
Well she thinks shes looking so cool
She thinks shes great but shes just a fool
What awful lack of class makes this kind behave this way
I look and only think of one thing to say
Soup, shes just soup
Soup of the day
Shes thin around the waistline
Thin around the brain
You see this type so many times
Time and time again
How could they really think
Theyd be treated in any other way
Everybodys looking and everybody say
Soup, shes just soup
Soup of the day
Well youd think theyd know better
That behaving in this way
They think theyre being clever
But I really have to say
Youd better think it over
Youll regret it one fine day
When the circus partys over
And you were just soup of the day
Shes just soup
Soup of the day
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Back in the Daze....Chase
Back when a tiny cherub sat scrunched on my lap
Foriging for my oh so precious milk
Whilst i sat doting
At two soles
Of the most precious
Silk
When i was a mother a woman a girl
When all was expectant
As i let life unfurl
He
Was all of me
Part of me
Everything
Now he prepares to fly the coup
Ill settle with my memories and a warm bowl of
Cream of tomato
Soup
poem by Karen Sinclair
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winter mist
another bowl
of veggie soup
haiku by Chenou Liu
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Don't let children or pups get accustomed to your soup bowl.
D.w. Washburn
Lead vocal: micky dolenz
Produced by: the monkees
D.w. washburn, i heard a sweet voice say.
D.w. washburn, this is your lucky day.
A hot bowl of soup is waitin'.
A hot bowl of soup and a shave.
D.w. washburn, we picked you to say.
Can't you hear the bugle call? can't you hear the bells?
Even you can be reborn, you naughty
If you don't get out of that gutter,
Before the next big rain.
D.w. wahsburn, you're gonna wash right down the drain.
Up, up, come on get up off your street.
If you can only make it from your hands to your knees,
I know you can make it to your feet. wooah!
D.w. washburn, i said to myself.
D.w. washburn, why don't you go save sombody else?
Well, i got no job to go to.
I don't work and i don't get paid.
I got a bottle of wine, i'm feelin' fine.
And i believe i got it made.
I'd like to thank all you good people
For comin' to my aid.
But i'm d.w. washburn.
I do believe i got it made.
I do believe i got it made, don't need nobody.
I do believe i got it made, i do believe i got it made.
Or...
Dw washburn i heard a sweet voice say
Dw washburn this is your lucky day
A hot bowl of soup is waitin'
A hot bowl of soup and a shave...
Dw washburn...we picked you to save (the whole thing is about the
Salvation army finding some soul that they think needs saving....and the guy
Is perfectly content as he is)
Can't you hear the flugle horn?
Can't you hear the band? (also could be bells...certainly fits the music
Here...but the band would refer to the sal army)
Even you can be reborn
You naughty n'er - do-well (an archaic term for a slacker)
Get up, get outta that gutter
Before the next big rain.
Dw washburn...you're gonna wash right down the drain.
Up, up...c'mon get up (my kid's favorite part of the song)
Get up off your street (has been written as "seat" in other places, but
Micky is clearly saying "street" ...which works in context.)
If you can only make it from your hands to your knees,
I know you can make it to your feet..whooo
Dw washburn i said to myself (character is going introspective here)
Dw washburn why don't you go save somebody else? (i.e. we picked you to
Save, but dw doesn't give a ****)
Well i got no job to go to
I don't work and i don't get paid
I got a bottle of wine
I'm feeling fine.......and i believe i' got it made.
I'd like to thank all you good people
For coming to my aid, but i'm
Dw washburn
I do believe i got it made.....etc. to fade
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Happy hoot of a good day
Tomorrow is almost here,
gonna wait for it
and just relax for today.
Can you feel it,
tomorrow morning,
everything will be fun.
Going to go shopping for,
banana's, milk and orange juice.
Going to go buy something,
just for me to enjoy.
Pizza, oreo cookies, pancakes
and even a small bowl of pho soup.
Yum Yum!
I love tomorrow and shopping day.
poem by Jackie Anderson
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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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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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You cook vegetable soup
You cook vegetable soup
and I look at you
while you cut green beans,
carrots, onions, celery, parsley
and tomatoes into two pots.
There are herbs, spices
and pepper that you are scattering
and two types of soup powder
that you throw in
and the pots steam and buzz
while I am washing the dishes
and the smell
makes me hungry
and I wonder
if the soup
are going to taste as good
as it smells.
We drink tee
and there’s medicine
that you give for flu
to me
and it’s great
to be with you
to read the look
in your beautiful eyes.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Murmurs... Wanton Soup
Where once we floated, happy croutons.. in a hot and salted soup
Blissfully unaware of all but us...us desirous, two...
We bobbed... in self indulgence.. hot and sour..
Wanton
Wanderlust
Stew...
We sipped, we smiled, we whiled away many a handsome kiss
Planting selfish moments upon selfish lips
Then...
..(as it always does) ...
That wholesome bowl of adoration
Dried upon said plate
Cherished scent of wanton soup
Devoured...shame.... too late....
So now we pay the bills observing golfs monotonous green
Yet I can smile at
Cherished murmurs behind a jaded
Silk spun screen....
poem by Karen Sinclair
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The Voice The Snake
(curly m.c./f.gregorian)
.
The first bowl on the earth
The second bowl on the sea
The third bowl on the rivers
The fourth bowl on the sun
The fifth bowl on the beast
The sixth bowl on the stars
The seventh bowl on the air
.
And the earth turned grey
Sea turned black
The rivers turned red
The sun turned cold
The beast turned pale
The stars turned fast
The air turned to poison
song performed by by Enigma
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Voice & The Snake
(curly m.c./f.gregorian)
.
The first bowl on the earth
The second bowl on the sea
The third bowl on the rivers
The fourth bowl on the sun
The fifth bowl on the beast
The sixth bowl on the stars
The seventh bowl on the air
.
And the earth turned grey
Sea turned black
The rivers turned red
The sun turned cold
The beast turned pale
The stars turned fast
The air turned to poison
song performed by by Enigma
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sexual Soup
A man so sick that the sexual soup
cannot save him -
the chicken soup of sex
which cures everything:
tossed mane of noodles,
bits of pale white meat.
the globules of yellow fat
like love...
But he is a man so sick
no soup can save him.
His throat has healed into a scar.
Rage fills his guts.
He wants to diet on dust.
I offered to feed him
(spoon by spoon)
myself.
I offered my belly as a bowl.
I offered my hands as spoons,
my knees as tongs,
my breasts as the chafing dish
to keep us warm
I offered my navel
as a brandy snifter.
"My tongue is gone," he said,
"I have no teeth.
My mouth is with my mother in the grave.
I've offered up my hunger to the air,
my nostrils to the wind,
my sex to death,
my eyes to nothingness & dust."
"What do you lust for then?"
I asked.
"I lust for nothing."
poem by Erica Jong
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That Porcelain Bowl
my heart delights
to see an empty porcelain bowl
on the table
i wish i'd be one
empty and can still be filled
someday you may fill me
again
like a fish
soup.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In The Midst Of Care
You know you are loved
When you are filled up
With the warmth, of a bowl of soup.
You know you are being used
When your feelings short-circuit
And get fused.
Love is clear
It does not instill fear
It just appears
In the midst of care.
poem by Kamini Arichandran
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I was wrong: So what. todays idiocy
I say that it’s impossible.
You cannot eat soup with chop sticks
Though it is highly probable.
Someone will try to prove he can.
To demonstrate his cleverness
and show he is a better man.
What will it prove should he succeed?
That I’m mistaken in my view.
I will be happy to concede
.
the victory to some buffoon.
Who can eat soup using chop sticks.
I still prefer to use a spoon.
I think soup should be eaten hot
I do not like cold soup a lot.
20/06/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Coming Back....
would like to come back as a candle,
a bowl of soup held by hungry hands.
a simple wooden crutch for the crippled,
a bedpan for the aged.
a blanket for the homeless,
a small fire for the cold.
and the sound of a mother's voice,
quieting the child afraid.
a leaf, a turtle, perhaps a drink of water,
a tear that needs to be cried...
the straw that forms the sparrow's nest,
i could ask for nothing more!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Talk Soup
I dated siamese twins
I slept with bigfoot, too
Get me on sally jesse
Put me on donahue
cause I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
My dogs a narcoleptic
My moms a circus freak
I gotta get a spot on
Geraldos show this week
cause I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
Im just an anorexic codependant bingo addict
Stripper born without a chin
And Im only comfortable talking about it
When the whole wide world is listening in
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
My wife ran off with elvis
My boss shaved off my hair
Ive got a thing for poodles
And rubber underwear
And I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
I had a close encounter
I never chew my food
I got eleven nose jobs
I yodel in the nude
And I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
Im just a cross-dressin alcoholic neo-nazi
Porno star, as you may have guessed
And Im really gonna feel a whole lot better
If you let me get this thing off my chest
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Im just your average schizophrenic nymphomaniac
Albino go-go dancer, you see
Nothin so bad that I cant share it
With a billion friends on national tv, whoa...
I have no genitalia
I sold my kids for cheese
I love my blow up doll, so
Bring out those cameras, please
cause I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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