To eat the boiled head of a pig sliced like salami is very strange. It may seem cutting edge, but it's actually a lot older than any of the other traditional salami.
quote by Mario Batali
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In From The Cold
In from the cold.
They have not chosen me
they have chosen salami
for breakfast, only
because I’m a thin sliced
chicken breast.
Have they no taste!
Bread crumbs and spies
sitting outside eating salami
on crusty bread,
miles away from real butter.
While just around the corner
there is a deli
selling salt beef and pickles.
Have they no taste!
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We're traditional and don't do cutting-edge styles, but after 17 years we're holding our own.
quote by Jaclyn Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cliches Part 2
As horny as a three balled tomcat
Blew his wad
Hide the salami
Horny as a peach-orchard boar
Honsky is as Horny as a three peckered Billy goat
Hot beef injections he got
Makin' bacon in the ktichen
Making whoopee goldberg
At the Mile high club
And could simply be a One night stand
Sweet 16 and never been kissed
But totally damaged
I guess she must be
Thinking with the wrong head
He got Wet dreams
And in the morning
In class he says
Wham, bam, thank you mam
Your place or mine?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's interesting as one grows older to keep in touch with the cutting edge.
quote by Faye Dunaway
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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On The Edge Of My Old Age
ON THE EDGE OF MY OLD AGE
On the edge of my old age
A strange calm comes to me
I have done what I have done
Whatever it be.
On the edge of my old age
Anger is my soul
I have not climbed the mountain
And now I’m far too old.
On the edge of my old age
I still wait to see
What will become
Of all I dreamed.
On the edge of my old age
Joy in my life
I have written for years
And still love to write
On the edge of my old age
Still striving to be
I must strive with more courage
No matter what be
On the edge of my old age
The omnipresent fear
A pained burden forever
A mind unclear.
On the edge of my old age
Enjoying my little life
Praying for grandchildren
For my children and wife.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Justice ha what bollocks
Justice is bollocks.
Never existed for me.
In my case it dont exist.
The bastards should of payed
for what they did.
The law is a load of bull.
Justice what bollocks.
Mabey I can get my own justice.
And slice em up to salami.
Or mabey tourture em
Like they did to me.
Revenge can be so sweet.
Cos I dont belive in justice.
I shall dish out my own.
The bastards should of payed.
And now they will pay
Cos justice is bollocks.
Just pratts in a suit.
poem by Amy Kerswell
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Cutting It Fine
The door swings open but you wont go it
You hate the movie that you havent seen
You couldnt see what I have in mind
I see you laughing but youre
Cutting it, cutting it fine
You never should have done those things to me
Theres one thread left tween you and history
And while our temperature is rising high
Im warning you that you are
Cutting it, cutting it fine
Cutting it, cutting it fine...
You gambled all on one important game
Now take the debt and dont complain
Your game was up, I saw it all the time
I saw that vice, girl, youre
Cutting it, cutting it fine
Your sole advisor watch out for yourself
You never listen to anyone else
You were the one who ignored the signs
Dancing on a fine line
Cutting it, cutting it fine
Cutting it, cutting it fine...
song performed by by Asia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At The Edge Of The Edge Of The Edge
AT THE EDGE OF THE EDGE OF THE EDGE
At the edge of the edge of the edge
There is another invisible edge
And this too has an edge and another edge
Edges unending
Beyond our comprehension
Waiting for us to fall down and down-
On the edge of the edge of the edge
I write on
Has the great descent already begun
And am I in the midst of it
As I pretend to go on?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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More Than Paris
France is more than Paris
This dark, unfriendly French provincial town, only,
a pizza parlour open run by a gloomy, unshaven
person who looked like a reluctant refugee from
Kosovo I wouldn’t like to stay down-wind from.
Everything made of plastic tables, chairs that once
had been white, under the counter rested pieces
of pizzas that was going cold, I had two pieces one
with salami, the other with tuna, washed down with
soft drinks. Finished the meal, the man looked at me
as saying: ” What are you still doing here? I left.
Turned, looked into dirty windows, and thought” If this
is hell I better start saying my prayer now.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Sliced Bread
Sliced bread...
Whole wheat and toasted.
Buttered with jam,
And munched.
Either with tea, punch...
Or just plain water for lunch!
Sliced bread...
With cheddar cheese and tomato.
Add Romaine lettuce,
Topped with fried strips of bacon.
This too will certainly do.
Sliced bread...
Oatmeal raisin,
Oven baked and fed.
Sliced bread...
Crumbed to stuff a turkey.
And seasoned to gobble...
With an aftertaste on the tongue,
Deliciously nutmeged!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Toy Story
Two athletic men tried to wrestle a paving stone from each
other, I tried to take the stone away from them thought it may
be used as weapon, I was as inept, peace negotiator usually are.
They fought about a sweet, blind girl she had a pony in her flat,
as her friend, but neighbours' complained about the smell and
hay blowing around in hallways. The blind girl appeared, after
eye surgery, she could see again told the fighting men they could
keep the pony or make into salami. The men dropped the stone
shocked by the girl´s callousness, now that she could see she was
more interested in boys than in an incontinent animal. The pony
was given to the local golf club and trained to find lost balls.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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On The Edge Of The Edge Of The Edge
ON THE EDGE OF THE EDGE OF THE EDGE
On the edge of the edge of the edge
There is nowhere to go-
Home is lost,
And all the distances have broken down-
One cannot move
One can only fear-
On the edge of the edge of the edge
Falling is fear-
And holding one’s ground
One step at a time
Is a small miracle
One is not sure
One can make alone.
On the edge of the edge of the edge-
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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BOB
I, man, am regal - a German am I
Never odd or even
If I had a hi-fi
Madam, I'm Adam
Too hot to hoot
No lemons, no melon
Too bad I hid a boot
Lisa Bonet ate no basil
Warsaw was raw
Was it a car or a cat I saw?
Rise to vote, sir
Do geese see god?
"Do nine men interpret" "Nine men," I nod
Rats live on no evil star
Won't lovers revolt now?
Race fast, safe car
Pa's a sap
Ma is as selfless as I am
May a moody baby doom a yam?
Ah, Satan sees Natasha
No devil lived on
Lonely Tylenol
Not a banana baton
No "x" in "Nixon"
O, stone, be not so
O Geronimo, no minor ego
"Naomi," I moan
"A Toyota's a Toyota"
A dog, a panic in a pagoda
Oh, no! Don Ho!
Nurse, I spy gypsies - run!
Senile felines
Now I see bees I won
UFO tofu
We panic in a pew
Oozy rat in a sanitary zoo
God! A red nugget! A fat egg under a dog!
Go hang a salami, I'm a lasagna hog
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Razor's Edge
I am living
On a razor’s edge
And it isn’t very nice
It isn’t if I will be cut
But how thinly
I’ll be sliced.
poem by David Keig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Old News
Old News
As the clock struck seven, a summer evening, outside
the town hall, a horse pulling a cart bolted. The driver
fell off and broke a leg, a policeman on duty was able
to stop the horse and calm it down. In our small inland
town this was a big event and many people took their
evening walk down to the town hall and stood in groups
listening to what the witnesses, two elderly men who
spent their time there sometimes doing odd jobs but
mostly hung around doing nothing; now for once they
had an audience and were treated as equals. News get
old and little is as stale as yesterdays´ the driver’s leg
mended, the horse was made into glue and tasty salami,
no one was interested in what a pair of layabouts had
to say, not now that a circus was coming to town.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Boysenberry Eyes Awhirl
A Caseworker's Nightmare
In a corner of the room
scribbles of loose yarn soar,
interweave and dive
like coasters at a carnival.
At dusk rats slither from the drain
and barrel through the room
stirring atom puffs of dust
beneath the paper sprung
tongue out from each wall.
Tails wound tight, the rats
skate their figure eights
between the table legs and swirl.
They pause to supper on salami bits,
gherkin nodes, crusts of ancient bread.
At dawn, with boysenberry eyes awhirl,
they belly back and leap atop the sink.
Popping sounds announce
the drain has called them home.
poem by Donal Mahoney
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Sorrows of Werther
Werther had a love for Charlotte
Such as words could never utter;
Would you know how first he met her?
She was cutting bread and butter.
Charlotte was a married lady,
And a moral man was Werther,
And, for all the wealth of Indies,
Would do nothing for to hurt her.
So he sighed and pined and ogled,
And his passion boiled and bubbled,
Till he blew his silly brains out,
And no more was by it troubled.
Charlotte, having seen his body
Borne before her on a shutter,
Like a well-coducted person,
Went on cutting bread and butter.
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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The Waking Edge
As I wake up in a room somewhere...
Dawn light not yet showing.
Theres just a thin horizon between me and her...
The edge of a half-dream glowing.
Well, you know, I felt her in my dream last night.
Strange how the sheets are warm beside me.
Now, how do I catch the waking edge?
As it slips to the far and wide of me.
Didnt I try to hold it down?
Freeze on the picture, hang sharp on the sound.
Catch the waking edge
Another time.
Familiar shadows in my hotel room
Are still here for the taking.
They seem to linger on as the street lights fade
And the empty dawn is breaking.
Private movie showing in my head...
Which button do I press for re-run?
And how do I catch the waking edge?
The edge of a dream about someone.
Well, you know, I felt her in my dream last night...
Now the sheets are cold beside me.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song: The Last Wave
I heard the wind a-blowin'.
The wind, it raged for you.
I gave you ample warnin'.
I thought that you'd come through.
The day was hot and balmy,
The sweat was stuck like glue,
On the baskin' tourist army,
Of sprawlin' flesh and hue.
They lay like red salami;
On toast, without a clue,
Of the last wave and tsunami,
That would drown them in a slew.
I heard the wind a-howlin'.
The wind it screeched for you.
Like wild dogs a-growlin',
The wind: it blew and blew.
I saw the waters risin'.
The storm arose for you.
The advancin' beach, surprisin'
All those who never knew.
From the hills, I'm excercisin'
My vantaged point of view,
For the wave's, my new horizon,
With the sky, a churnin' brew.
I heard the wind a-blowin'.
The wind, it raged for you
My fear and guilt was growin',
So little could I do.
I heard the wind a-blowin'.
The wind, it raged for you.
But the manner of your goin',
Has sunk me deep in blue!
poem by Dave SmithWhite
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Over The Edge
I had eyes but I could not see, I hurt everybody who believed in me
I had it all but I lost the key, oh
I saw the world through fogged-up glasses, like some lothario making passes
I showed the world just what an ass is, oh
I was over the edge, I was always out of my head
Trouble in paradise, treadin on the thinnest ice
Oh-oh, over the edge, I wouldnt listen to what anybody said
Cuttin with a razor blade, spendin every cent I made
Over the edge
I dreamed of standin on my own two feet
My fists held high and I clenched my teeth
But Id wake up to the same old me, oh
I was living a lie, but you brought me truth
Afraid to cry, but you taught me to
You stood beside me, now Ill stand by you, oh
I was over the edge, I was always out of my head
I wasnt foolin anyone, playin with a loaded gun
Oh-oh, over the edge, I wouldnt listen to what anybody said
I was numbing all the pain, you taught me how to feel again
(solo)
If I had died, it would have been a shame
Theyd have said he only had himself to blame
You saved my life when you called my name, oh
I was over the edge, I was always out of my head
I was numbing all the pain, you showed me how to feel again
Oh-oh, over the edge, I wouldnt listen to what anybody said
When you looked me in the eyes, you finally made me recognize
Oh-oh, over the edge (repeats 4x)
song performed by by Reo Speedwagon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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