Old friendships are like meats served up repeatedly, cold, comfortless, and distasteful. The stomach turns against them.
quote by William Hazlitt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Friendships’ Yield
Friendships with the same genders
Produce in them confidence.
Friendships with opposite ones
Produce in them energy.
Hopes in them serve as a fuel.
Friendships last till hopes run out.
10.08.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Providing of the Ingredients
I will not fantasize anyone's innocence,
To depict ideals given no chance to exist.
What is observed today is as is.
And those who popularized an escaping,
From a yesterday that has gone away...
Colorized to hypnotize desires,
To portray themselves in ways their delusions...
Could only accept.
Will always find what is currently uncovered,
To be distasteful.
And yet...
A providing of the ingredients,
Came delivered as choice selections they chose.
But today refuse to be served to eat.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Friendships Do Not Begin That Way
What purpose is served by befriending someone,
With the giving of respect?
Who later offends with a comfort that generates,
A disrespecting with a belief what is done is okay?
It isn't!
If friendships do not begin that way,
More often than not...
That is usually the way they end!
With someone feeling highly offended.
And another comprehending the reason.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When ego is fed…
Someone would remember me:
My stomach goes full.
Someone would be grateful to me:
My stomach goes full.
Someone would broadcast of me:
My stomach goes full.
Someone would long for me:
My stomach goes full.
Whenever ego gets food,
The stomach is fed without food.
05.05.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The most successful marriages, gay or straight, even if they begin in romantic love, often become friendships. It's the ones that become the friendships that last.
quote by Andrew Sullivan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The reality
I served food to my mother
On every anniversary of her death..
If she was fed, I was not sure,
Yet I believed she had been fed.
She fed me, a child, on her lap
And felt she had been fed
Even with her stomach empty.
07.01.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Arabian Disco
Has it been so long?
Do you think we know?
Do you think we care?
Die...for the here and now
Do you remember why?
Do you remember how?
Face .... out
Stick your chest .... out
Stomach .... in
Thats right
Do you really know
Where the harems go
In the desert snow? hail,
An oasis dream doesnt really seem
To mean a thing when youre out .... cold
So, hands .... up
Put your guards .... up
Feet .... down
Up .... down
Forward .... march
Left .... right
Cold .... cold
I feel cold
song performed by by Faith No More
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tears of Blood
It's dark and cold in this room, the feel of cracked busted wood floors on my skin as I am thrown against it, and millions of long splinters pierce into me.
blood ripples out of the little pain ridden holes, and falls into the cracks, but no sound of drops come from the dark never ending oblivion were my dreams are lost to never be found.
It feels as if my heart runs cold, my mind runs blank, my stomach turns to fire, and my vomit turns to blood.
The walls are closing in around me till the life is squeezed out of my soul.
My bones cracking and crunching, my blood flowing out of my veins and burning the darkest most vial red, my heart pounded stabbed crushed and beaten until no pulse is herd, till feelings were nothing but fear and pain, now I'm left in this dark corner, alone and crying cause no one has come to save me from this hell!
poem by Jacob Gifford
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There have been some friendships lost over this. That's the most difficult for me. I find it very uncomfortable to know that I was at one time close friends with someone, and because of jealousies and misunderstandings and so on, these friendships have dissolved.
quote by Donald Johanson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stomach with food
Dont full
Fill your stomach...at
Food...
Stomach is
Full fill
The food...
Only at only
With waste of
Basket...
Making
At your stomach...
Drink...
Eat...
A llways
With your stomach
Limet... limet...
Healf stomach
Is good...
Bada full food
Eating...
Mothley once
ok...
Every day
Not better for
Your body health...
Diside to eat food...
Daily...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Giving The Attention
If someone finds they are reminding another,
Repeatedly...
Of a disrespect shown and done,
Maybe another approach would be...
Is to not be the one repeatedly,
Giving the attention to remind them.
Sometimes absence delivers a message.
But then again,
Some are so accustomed to being disrespectful...
It has to be part of their D.N.A.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Delicatessen
Stalked by fear and unlimited ambition,
Is too lethal of a foreplay extended...
To expect sheer excitement meant.
There has to be an intention.
Something that isolates and propells one to deliver.
Maybe some of this chat is more than delicatessen.
Many enjoy sharing their brave conquests over lunch.
As they mark down time...
And their lives,
Planning to fulfill wishes.
Once they are eligible...
To retire!
Like prepared meats!
Packaged and ready to be served,
At the right time
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Gathering
A friend from my past
Proving, friendships can last
New and red blood
Rustles down my veins
Reviving my loyality
Diverted from
Emptyness and mystery
Suppressing silence
Entrusted friendships
Lasting to eternity.
poem by Howard Johnson
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Choosing To Dare
To unbuckle and enjoy,
An unexpected thrill ride undenied...
To be freed of restrictions in one's life.
Would be advisable to experience,
At least once.
Since,
Opportunities like this presented...
Do not come often.
And with an invitation to escape from redundacy.
Afterall...
The closing of one's eyes,
And holding on tight...
To that which already has frightened,
Would be better served to address...
By those choosing to dare,
To pick at will their thrills.
Without expressing surprise,
By that which has them tied down repeatedly.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Rambling 1
you once
had best friends
time breaks
bonds
you refuse to
accept
broken friendships
you hope
someday
that relationships
repair
and heal
themselves
you move on
rethinking
promising that
you can
live alone
online
chats are
everywhere
nothing serious
about
long lasting
and true
friendships
they cause pain
during
break-ups
too many
unkind words
said
others come back
for some
utilitarian
reasons and
you have learned
a lot
nothing lasts really
friendships are
like promises
like things that you
take in the house
and simply
outlive their
importance
or need
or use
yes, it has always
been the use
you are not
that
never a user
and
they are
and will always
be
and so
here you are
chatting with
yourself
in some kind
of poetry
you always plant
the seeds here
and there is no
pain in
seeding
you never get
the chance
to taste
its fruits anyway
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Cold Winter Night
It's on cold winter nights such as this,
When memories fill my mind of what seems so long ago.
I miss the old friendships of those who have gone away,
And I wish I could renew.
On cold winter nights such as this,
It is then that a touch comes back to me,
One from long ago,
And there it lingers,
In my memory,
Leaving me to wonder,
If I had dreamed it all.
On this cold winter night,
When your touch comes back to me.
poem by Sarah Elizabeth DuVal
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The Cold Cuts Of God ...
the night is cold
inside the room
our bodies are colder
our emotions
frozen
and we are
like the cold cuts
of God
served upon a
platter
with no one
picking
but don't worry
for soon
sunshine comes
like some knives
by the shutters of
our morning
windows
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Outside
They took away
my money and bag
took away my
house and land
lay me on the sand.
I am here
near ganga
and in empty stomach.
I am here
near mahodadhi
and in empty stomach.
I am here
looking Nilachakra
alldays always
in empty stomach.
They snatch away
may language
They thrown me out
from the sky
they are my nearby.
who is there
outside my house
where is my earth
where is my worth.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Life Is A Minestrone
Im dancing on the white house lawn
Sipping tea by the taj mahal at dawn
Hanging round the gardens of babylon
Minnie mouse has got it all sewn up
She gets more fan mail than the pope
She takes the mickey out of all my phobias
Like signing cheques to ward off double pneumonia
Life is a minestrone
Served up with parmesan cheese
Death is a cold lasagne
Suspended in deep freeze
Im leaning on the tower of pisa
Had an eyeful of the tower in france
Im hanging round the gardens of madison
And the seat of learning
And the flush of success
Relieves a constipated mind
Im like a gourmet in a skid row diner
A fitting menu for a dilettante
Life is a minestrone
Served up with parmesan cheese
Death is a cold lasagne
Suspended in deep freeze
Love is a fire of flaming brandy
Upon a crepe suzette
Lets get this romance cooking, honey
But let us not forget
Life is a minestrone
Served up with parmesan cheese
Death is a cold lasagne
Suspended in deep freeze
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Harvest Of Friendship
For Carol Gall & Patti Masterman
Friendships can come
from many places near and far,
sometimes even half a world away
with faces we cannot see,
but their touch we can always feel.
Invisible hands reach out
across the miles to gently touch another’s.
Unbreakable links are forged,
bonds never to be unbroken.
Silent voices of strangers are suddenly heard,
welcomed in from the silence
to a voice never heard.
Strength is gathered in
to defeat the demons
of a sometimes lonely life
as we harvest friendships into our lives.
Friendships and distance no longer matters.
Hands now link to chain a message
that no matter who we are
a candle of hope is on the horizon
to light up many lives.
8 December 2009
poem by David Harris
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