It's important to begin a search on a full stomach.
quote by Henry Bromel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stomach cry
Eat
Too
Eat...
Stomach was full
Not stand
Not sit
Not walk...
Waa waa
Marrage dinner...
Mind happy
Stomach on
Body is crying...
With up
And down
with gas..ss..
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Literary Method
His poems Riley says that he indites
Upon an empty stomach. Heavenly Powers,
Feed him throat-full: for what the beggar writes
Upon his empty stomach empties ours!
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Win A Prize
Run the race and win a prize,
For the food is for the stomach and the stomach is for food;
But i will live on always to see you grow.
Slow, glow, blow, flow;
That which was empty is now full,
But he who joins himself to a prostitute is in one body with her.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Whore
Stomach is making
Whore...?
Whore is making a
Sex...
Not...
Life making a sexy
whore with out money...
whore is not sex...
Sex is life...
Whore do only is
Wonder full earn with
Full fill the stomach...
Give to bad Sex....? ? ?
or good sex...! ! ! !
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Search It
search anything
in your life
search any thing...
you search u got it...
you did not search
waste of life time...
you search any thing
any time search...
not only google.com
search all ways
what do u want...?
search it
the life is search only
you search your inner
you got many more...
search with you...
search the another's
and search the world...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Koo Koo Koo
Everything is
in my poem.
Search and find
Whatever you want
At your suitable time.
What do you want?
How far you want
that is important.
Go and search
everything is for you.
This is my poem
Take and
Take its Koo Koo Koo.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The Important People in my Life
There are two important people
In my life
The first important person is
The mother of my children
She is my light on a cloudy day
She is my heart that gives my life
She is my day and night
She is my other half
She is my moon bright and full
So the whole world can see us
Happy and free
The other important person is my son
My son is my littler self
My son is my joy
My son is my air that I breathe
These two people are the most important to me
But pretty soon it will be three
BY DEKI
poem by Mark Fisher
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Never begin a negotiation on an empty stomach.
The Hole In The Doughnut
i am full
eating is useless
my stomach
has no purpose
i have this doughnut
and i raise
it in space
and i look through
its hole
i want to see
what is the reason
for emptiness
the hole has more
content
than the doughnut
itself
i put my finger
inside it
and somehow
i begin to feel
confident
inside the hole
i know
i am not alone anymore.
inside the hole
again i become whole.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A kola nut is small, but it is more important that it goes round to each person and not that it fills the stomach.
Another Day
What seems like such a winter's tale
Lightening runs through the fallen flames
By kneeling down we're here to pray
At that point forsaken unafraid
I only wanna feel you being strong
I only wanna feel you being strong
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
Feel my breath go cold and calm
My pride is last and I sin again
And all the seasons change their scent
A year of hell they come against my head once more
I only wanna feel you being strong
I only wanna feel you being strong
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
INSTRUMENTAL
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
song performed by by Texas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Another Day
What seems like such a winter's tale
Lightening runs through the fallen flames
By kneeling down we're here to pray
At that point forsaken unafraid
I only wanna feel you being strong
I only wanna feel you being strong
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
Feel my breath go cold and calm
My pride is last and I sin again
And all the seasons change their scent
A year of hell they come against my head once more
I only wanna feel you being strong
I only wanna feel you being strong
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
INSTRUMENTAL
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
song performed by by Texas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Craving Of The Flesh
when i write this
i am full, my stomach bloats
i am holding something
inside me
with all restraintand if i do not follow
the law of
expulsion
i may die of this
poison
i must empty
what is here inside
to make me feel well
there is poetry in my head
poetry in my stomach
soon
if i keep them and not let them
go out
i may die
and so here i am
noting this metaphor of expulsion
to let you know
that i cannot stop writing
for health reasons and not
for anything else
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Begin With
to begin with
he smiles and they begin to like him
because he is contagious
his smile travels from one place to another
like the way the butterfly hovers from one flower
another flower in the garden of
peace and quiet
to begin with
he keeps a hold on something that makes him happy
despite the odds
despite the fact that it is his own house that is burning
despite the fact that all the bridges going to his place have all been broken
to begin with
he is naked and he has nothing to cover himself anymore
to begin with
he is foremost his own being
and it is only this that all of them cannot take anymore
and so he keeps the promise
to maintain this emptiness so they may all become full
and guilty and sad.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Now Let Us Begin
man if he is true to be man, is more real if he is at first
less of himself, when he is empty, when he is emptied,
when he is emptying. It is like the stomach, you feel it more
when it is empty rather than when it is full
it speaks to you when it is hungry
it grunts
it growls
it even howls
and sometimes it whistles
than when it is bloated with so much food
and wine and desserts.Because in hunger, in the hopelessness
of our state, in the emptiness of our being
we know where we will place
everything.
we will know our dreams, we meet our hopes,
for the first time
we know precisely when to wish,
and where to put them
when we are emptying,
when we are emptied
and now we are sure when we are filling.
let us begin.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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(V - 2004) The Lad who was called Mad
People called him mad.
Many a days
He came to my mother
He would then say
‘There is fire in my stomach’
My mother would then hurry her cooking
Soon she would serve
Rice and curry
Spiced with love and care.
He would eat to his full
And at the very next door
He would again say
‘There is fire in my stomach –
I am hungry still’
And so one day
I looked deep into him
Wondered what his hunger was for
And saw fire in his heart.
Still, he little knew that
He simply said, ‘there is fire in my stomach’
And people called him mad.
He was a sensitive lad
Some had led him astray
So he lost his senses,
Lost his way
And people called him mad.
This hurt him more
Still he had them guide him.
So, finally one day
Into the temple pond
He drowned himself
To quell for ever
The fire in him
And then the people
Who had called him mad
Said with pity, ‘Oh, how sad! ’
What We Can Remember On Sunday Afternoons
when everyone is gone
to church
we find ourselves alone
as we lock the door
and then begin
to have that silly
talk on the sofa
as our hands begin
to compose
the symphony of
yes, love we call it
love
as our lips begin
to search the wetness
of the feelings
as our necks entwine
like vines
as our bodies fuse
like a nuclear
phenomenon and then
we know the beautiful
power of explosions
below the pink boundaries
of our two bodies
something that no one
can hear
except our two ears
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Search
I search for that something called an Identity
I search for the eternally dynamic being called 'me'
I search for that ever-elusive ray of Hope
That'll steady my walk on life's tightrope
I search for that stroke of Brilliance
That'll make me stand out among millions
I search for that much-needed Common Sense
That'll help me to decipher utter nonsense
I search for that slippery thing called Fame
That'll erase all my past memories of shame
I search for that quality called Tenacity
That'll help me cope with life's complexity
I search for that something called a Carefree Life
That'll remove me from worries and Danger's knife
I search for something called an Identity
And I still search for that being called 'me'
poem by Rony Patra
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