My dear Excellency! I have not gone to war to collect cheese and eggs, but for another purpose.
quote by Manfred von Richthofen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Auld Wife
PART I
The auld wife sat at her ivied door,
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
A thing she had frequently done before;
And her spectacles lay on her apron’d knees.
The piper he pip’d on the hill-top high,
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
Till the cow said, “I die,” and the goose asked “Why?”
And the dog said nothing, but search’d for fleas.
The farmer he strode through the square farmyard;
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
His last brew of ale was a trifle hard,
The connection of which with the plot one sees.
The farmer’s daughter hath frank blue eyes;
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
She hears the rooks caw in the windy skies,
As she sits at her lattice and shells her peas.
The farmer’s daughter hath ripe red lips;
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
If you try to approach her away she skips
Over tables and chairs with apparent ease.
The farmer’s daughter hath soft brown hair;
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
And I met with a ballad, I can’t say where,
Which wholly consisted of lines like these.
PART II
She sat with her hands ’neath her dimpled cheeks,
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
And spake not a word. While a lady speaks
There is hope, but she did n’t even sneeze.
She sat with her hands ’neath her crimson cheeks;
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
She gave up mending her father’s breeks,
And let the cat roll in her best chemise.
She sat with her hands ’neath her burning cheeks,
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
And gaz’d at the piper for thirteen weeks;
Then she follow’d him out o’er the misty leas.
Her sheep follow’d her, as their tails did them,
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
And this song is consider’d a perfect gem;
And as to the meaning, it ’s what you please.
poem by Charles Stuart Calverley
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The Excellent Robber
This is the story of his excellency
Who is richer than the land
Who have treasures than the nation.
He is the numero uno in the creeks
He is quintessence of flamboyancy.
Surrounding himself with nobles
Who delights in raping the land,
His excellency radiates outward candour
Sanctimoniously preaching moral rectitude,
He detests the pickpockets and
Punishes the babies that lick the soup
But feasts with the looters
Who aided him in banking his loots.
Surreptitiously, he rapes the people
Comatosing the communitity into penury
Metamorphosing people to become beggars.
His excellency rapes.
His excllency deprives.
His excllency steals.
His excellency is a greed.
His excellency is a gangster
Who shoots his people.
His excellency kills
To satisfy his quests
His excellency is an excellent robber.
poem by Babatunde Aremu
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To Thy Excellency Bharathi
Versified 'VandheMatharam' in refrains
Lulled the blazing hearts of Indians
Serfdom turned Freedom this day reigns
Thy Excellency Bharathi
Who else, be of great strains
Than Thy Excellency Bharathi
Kindled the fond hopes of Liberty
Liberated the captives from nonnative notoriety
Cantillated tamil doused in Bharath-Integrity
Thy Excellency Bharathi
Thee alone of much tactical frivolity
Praiseful hosannas Bharathi
Incapable we in bomb-blasting society
Peaceless life by diced polity
Looking forward to 'Poet of Piety'
Thy Excellency Bharathi
Retort, who else can amend disunity
Than Thy Excellency Bharathi
Reappear, persona mustached, turbaned
Bravery aglow in eyes well challenged
'Vandhe Matharam' flamingly well versed
Thy Excellency Bharathi
Subramanya, Soul blest Thou indeed needed
Reborn Thy Excellency Bharathi
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Ode To Cheese
☺ .
Ode To Cheese,
Which Makes Us Smile,
When Camera's go Clack.
Ode To Cheese,
Which make us taste,
The greatest of flavors, the wackiest of whack.
Ode To Cheese,
Blue, Gorgonzola,
American and Cheddar.
Ode To Cheese,
Beja and Feta,
In all types of weather.
Ode To Cheese,
For those on a diet,
or trying to get fatter.
Ode To Cheese,
with crackers and wine,
with grapes can flatter.
Ode To Cheese,
when you're sad and happy,
Cheese just fits.
Ode To Cheese,
Mountains and Mountains,
or bits and bits.
Ode to the Cheese,
To appreciate,
eat,
and take pictures.
Your Excellency
Your Excellency, a Lady of Separation!
I am cold, and that's a damnation!
The letter in the envelope, do not tear, my dove!
I am not lucky in death, I'll be lucky in love!
Your Excellency, a Lady of Luck!
For someone you are kind, for another one a chuck
Nine grams in the heart, just wait, do not call!
I am not lucky in death, I'll be a winner once for all.
Your Excellency, a Lady of Alienation!
You didn't love, though your hugs were a fascination!
In your silky nets do not let me shove!
I am not lucky in death, I'll be lucky in love!
Your Excellency, a Lady of Victory!
My song is a Glory and History!
Stop the devil's swearing in blood!
I'll be lucky in love in spite of a crud!
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Next To Collect
You could be the next to collect...
RESPECT.
You could be the next on the list...
To get it and quick.
You could be the next to collect...
RESPECT.
Tomorrow no one knows,
Just what to expect.
You may be next to collect it!
An overwhelming love received.
You may be next to collect,
A joy that never leaves.
You may be next to collect it!
A one of a kind peace...
On your mind.
You may be next to collect it!
An overwhelming love received.
You may be next to collect,
A joy that never leaves.
You may be next to collect it!
A one of a kind peace...
On your mind.
You may be next to collect,
Just accept you are blessed.
You could be the next to collect...
RESPECT.
You could be the next on the list...
To get it and quick.
You may be the next to collect it...
An abundance of happiness.
The next to collect.
The next to collect.
You may be the next to collect it...
An abundance of happiness.
The next to collect.
The next to collect.
You may be the next to collect it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Pearls
There was a time
When I shared
My every little perception
With you.
Like a pregnant oyster
I unloaded pearls of writhing emotions
Upon your limitless ocean bed;
As dinosaurs laying eggs upon sands,
Never bothered to think-
What would become
Of the overburdened sand-bed
Once the eggs hatched.
Now that you are gone,
I collect my own pearls
And string them up into wreaths
Of unexpressed desires,
And set them afloat
Upon my ocean of tears.
Happy Easter
Who wants to be a rooster,
Crowing before dawn everyday.
Who wants to be that rooster?
Who wants to be that rooster?
Who wants to be a rooster,
Crowing before dawn everyday.
Who wants to be that rooster?
Who wants to be that rooster?
To strut and cluck for someone sleeping,
To get up.
And do that if programmed before the dawn shows up.
And if that rooster gets into a rut...
Who will then do the clucking?
Or wake up,
To collect the eggs!
Who wants to be a rooster,
Crowing before dawn everyday.
Who wants to be that rooster?
Who wants to be that rooster?
Who wants to be a rooster,
Crowing before dawn everyday.
Who wants to be that rooster?
Who wants to be that rooster?
To strut and cluck for someone sleeping,
To get up.
And do that if programmed before the dawn shows up.
And if that rooster gets into a rut...
Who will then do,
The clucking?
Or wake up,
To collect the eggs!
'Happy Easter'
~Do you notice anything different about those eggs? ~
'Yeah!
They are colored.
Why? '
~They are for the Easter Egg Hunt.
Put them back.~
'Oh!
I must be dreaming.
I thought I heard a rooster crow.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cheese Cake
I met a babe in a backseat drive-in
Back in the saddle shed sit
Pulled on the reins just to keep me risin
She loved to chomp at the bit
Daddy do it, oh, just do it
Daddy do it, please let me see
Do it, please just do it daddy
Do it, do it, drivin me crazy
She walks away with her eyes
Down on her bootlace
She lives to give it away
She dont believe in the right or the wrong case
Shes always liable to say
Daddy do it, oh, just do it
Daddy do it, please let me see
Do it, please just do it daddy
Do it, do it, drivin me crazy
(cheese cake), looser than her sister
(cheese cake), her sugar gets me high
She knows I cant resist her (cheese cake)
Got my fingers in her pie (cheese cake)
(cheese cake), sneakin out the back door
(cheese cake), rollin down the lawn
Everybody kissed her (cheese cake)
At the crack of dawn (cheese cake)
Daddy do it, oh, just do it
Daddy do it, please let me see
Daddy do it, please just do it daddy
Do it, do it, do it, drivin me crazy
(cheese cake), looser than her sister
(cheese cake), her sugar gets me high
She knows I cant resist her (cheese cake)
Got my fingers in her pie (cheese cake)
Repeat (cheese cake)
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jane and Bullfinch Eggs
Those are Bullfinch's eggs
Jane said
pointing at
the 5 eggs
in a nest
hidden in a hedge
and as she pointed
you imagined
that some god
modelled all female fingers
on that before you
how the nail was set
so perfectly
on the finger's tip
the colour pinkish white
the skin almost blending in
we mustn't disturb
she added
or the mother bird
will fly away
and not return
oh right
you said
gazing at the eggs
once her finger
had been removed
from the hedge
you studied
the pale blue eggs
speckled there
and sensed her presence
near your cheek
the lavender
that she wore
the way her hair dark
coming to her shoulders
was tied back
from her face
some collect them
Jane said
and pierce the top
and bottom
and blow through the contents
and have them on display
do they?
you said
seeing the sad expression
she wore
why is that?
you asked
she stood back
from the hedgerow
and looking at you
with her dark eyes
said
because they must have
they have to collect
what is there
for all to see
they must just have
for themselves alone
the May sun
was shining warm
and she took your hand
in hers and walked
you on along the lane
the small stream running
by the lane's edge
her grey skirt
and white blouse
and white socks
giving her a plain look
but her eyes lit up
and she smiled again
and you wanted
at that moment
as she held your hand
for that hour
to be there forever
not to be lost
thinking you knew then
the depth of love
and not its loss
of that
and feeling sense
and not the cost.
poem by Terry Collett
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Keep The Intent Of Your Purpose
Although there seems to be,
A slowing done of your focused flow...
Keep the intent of your purpose.
Don't let that motivation go.
Stay true to yourself,
Knowing your beliefs do not deceive.
Keep the intent of your purpose.
Do not let that purpose leave.
It is difficult enough,
To constantly be bombarded...
From those events,
That fuss things up.
It's enough to want to cuss,
Everything believed to be corrupt.
But that 'outside' stuff that is happening...
Has a meaning that should awaken all of us.
Although there seems to be,
A slowing done of your focused flow...
Keep the intent of your purpose.
Don't let that motivation go.
Stay true to yourself,
Knowing your beliefs do not deceive.
Keep the intent of your purpose.
Do not let that purpose leave.
Each day collect pieces,
Of your sanity.
Keep the intent of your purpose.
Be gentle and easily allow yourself to breathe.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Moon Rabbit
In the night sky,
Sits the moon,
And on that moon lives,
The moon rabbit.
What he does up there,
All alone,
Is completely unknown.
But I think I’ve figured it out.
He spends his time,
Making cheese.
He makes cheese,
For the moon people.
And every year,
They have a cheese party,
To say thank-you,
To their cheese making friend.
poem by Mandy Jane
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Green Eggs & Ham
I do not like green eggs and ham
I do not like them
Sam, I am
I do not like them here or there
I do not like them anywhere
I do not like them in a boat
I would not, could not, with a goat
I will not eat them in the rain
I do not like them on a train
I do not like them in a box
I will not eat them with a fox
I do not like them in a house
I would not, could not, with a mouse
I do not like green eggs and ham
I do not like them
Sam, I am
Green eggs and ham
Green eggs and ham
Dont like green eggs and ham
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Redemption
behind the refrigerator door
they don't have much to say
huddle don't resist
as fumbling fingers grip
whisk one of them away
oh when will the messiah come
in the form of eggs or ham or cheese
or possibly some leftover
they murmur with unease
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
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Facts About Cheese
When the price of cheese was so low a few years ago that the
dairymen seriously thought of giving up the manufacture
of cheese and of selling their cows, we published the fol-
lowing lines and distributed them by the thousand :
Price soon will rise, though now 'tis low,
And brooks of milk will onward flow ;
Were it collected in one stream
There would be floods of milk and cream.
Mr. T. D. Millar has just secured, Sept., 1884, the first prize for cheese at the great
cheese fair at Amsterdam, Holland. They weighed over 600 pounds each, and were
manufactured by the Burnside Factory of Dorchester. The Galloway Factory is manufacturing
several cheese weighing one ton each. The mammoth cheese, alluded to in cheese ode,
was manufactured by Mr. James Harris, Ingersoll Factory. The Dnnn Cheese Factory, North
Oxford, secured first prize at the great Centennial Exhibition, but where all factories
produce such excellent cheese perhaps it would be making invidious distinctions to specify
the honours won by any particular factory. The West Oxford Company have recently built a
fine factory on the Culloden Road.
poem by James McIntyre
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Sweet Dreams
A sweetness clouded my minced mind,
The same just be with a meaning.
The hell of thinking boils on like oil,
Save the savage tank, save the soldier.
The eggs are hatched by all those animals
Offered the peace of eternity.
A sweet dreamer attacks and bursts in,
To strongly offer peace, not war.
The real purpose is unknown, much more
Is the purpose known to some.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Cheese Balls
Cheese balls!
Sniff them as you lick them,
Cheese balls.
Delicious when you eat them,
Cheese balls.
Salty and their tart.
A snack that's hard to stop!
Cheddar up.
Cheese balls.
Sniff them as you lick them.
Cheese balls.
Delicious when you eat them.
Cheese balls.
Salty and they're tart,
And a snack that's hard to top.
Cheddar up.
Get a big bag and begin to stuff your gutt.
Those, those, those...
Cheese balls.
The cheddar makes them better.
Cheese balls.
They're better when they're cheddar.
Forget about the fedder...
And that gouda gotta go!
You've got to get them cheddar.
It's that cheddar taste that grows.
Cheddar up, cheddar up, cheddar up!
Those cheese balls...
Delicious when you eat them.
Cheese balls.
Sniff them as you lick them.
Cheese balls.
And a snack that's hard to stop!
Salty and they're tart...
Forget about the fedder.
And that gouda gotta go!
Cheese balls!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Staring At The Dead Mouse
i poisoned that mouse
which ate my cheese
that i left
under my bed,
till now i do not know
the reason,
why that cheese
was there, why
i left the mouse dead
on the floor,
why i stared at it
as though
i am sharing my guilt
with the cheese
and the poison.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Father Ranney, the Cheese Pioneer
When Father Ranney left the States,
In Canada to try the fates,
He settled down in Dereham,
Then no dairyman lived near him;
He was the first there to squeeze
His cow's milk into good cheese,
And at each Provincial show
His famed cheese was all the go.
Then long life to Father Ranney
May he wealth and honour gain aye.
He always took the first prize
Both for quality and size,
But many of his neighbors
Now profit by his labors,
And the ladies dress in silk
From the proceeds of the milk,
But those who buy their butter,
How dear it is, they mutter.
Then long life to Father Ranney
May he wealth and honour gain aye.
Now we close this glorious theme,
This song of curds and rich cream,
You can buy your hoops and screws,
And all supplies for dairy use,
Milk cans and vats, all things like these
In Ingersoll great mart for cheese,
Here buyers do congregate
And pay for cheese the highest rate.
So we call on you again aye,
To honor Father Ranney.
poem by James McIntyre
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Stinky, Moldy Cheese
In my house there is a slice...
Of stinky cheese
In my house there is some chedder
Though staying far from it might be better
In my house there's a piece
Of stinky, moldy mozzarela cheese
In my house there are many things
But nothing can top stinky, moldy cheese
There is a whisperer who tells me many things
'Hey miss...'
'Don't go near the swiss! '
You're so lucky this cheese...
Isn't yours
poem by Kristy Wisser
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