The fact that when we die we are nothing more than worm meat---I just don't think about it.
quote by Robin Green
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
One Meat Ball
(l. singer-h.zaret)
The little man walked up and down
To find an eating place in town
He read the menu through and through
To see what fifteen cents could do
One meat ball, one meat ball
Well, he could afford but one meat ball
He told the waiter near at hand
A simple dinner he had planned
The guests were startled one and all to hear
That waiter loudly call
One meat ball, one meat ball
Well, this here gent wants one meat ball
Little man felt very bad
One meat ball was all he had
And in his dreams he hears that call
Ya gets no bread with one meat ball
One meat ball, one meat ball
Well, you get no bread with one meat ball
Well, he could afford but one meat ball
One meat ball, one meat ball
All he could afford was one meat ball
One meat ball
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For Molly, Concerning God
Is God the one who eats the meat
off the bones of dead people?
-Molly Miranda Jong-Fast, age 3 1/2
God is the one,
Molly,
whether we call him
Him,
or Her,
treeform or spewing
volcano,
Vesuvius or vulva,
penis-rock,
or reindeer-on-cave-wall,
God is the one
who eats
our meat,
Molly,
& we yield
our meat
up willingly.
Meat is our
element,
meat is our
lesson.
When our bodies fill
with each other,
when our blood swells
in our organs
aching for another,
body of meat,
heart of meat,
soul of meat,
we are only doing
what God wants
us to—
meat joining meat
to become insubstantial air,
meat fusing
with meat
to make
a small wonder
like you.
The wonder of you
is that you push
our questions
along into
the future—
so that I know
again
the wonder of meat
through you,
the wonder of meat
turning to philosophy,
the wonder of meat
transubstantiated
into poetry,
the wonder of
sky-blue meat
in your roundest eyes,
the wonder of
dawn-colored meat
in your cheeks & palms,
the wonder of meat
becoming
air.
You
are my theorem,
my proof,
my meaty metaphysics,
my little questioner,
my small Socrates
of the nursery-schoolyard.
To think that
such wonder
can come from meat!
Well then,
if God is hungry—
let Him eat,
let Her eat.
poem by Erica Jong
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The Chambermaid's Second Song
From pleasure of the bed,
Dull as a worm,
His rod and its butting head
Limp as a worm,
His spirit that has fled
Blind as a worm.
poem by William Butler Yeats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Meat And Potato Man
meat and potato man
I like my steak well done, my taters fried
Football games on monday night
Its just who i am
A meat and potato man
I like my coffee black
Oltv shows
My women hot and my beer ice cold
Its just who i am
A meat and potato man
I dont like caviar, sushi bars,
The irs or phony stars
Im a haggard fan
A meat and potato man
I like my fishinholes, lightninbugs
Flatt nscruggs, and my womans love
Its just who i am
A meat and potato man
I like my wrangler jeans, cowboy boots
Cornbread and beans and country roots
Its just who i am
A meat and potato man
I dont like politics, hypocrites
Folks with poodles dressed like kids
Im a hounddog fan
A meat and potato manyeah, thats what i am,
A meat and potato man
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Meat & Potato Man
Meat and potato man
I like my steak well done, my taters fried
Football games on monday night
Its just who I am
A meat and potato man
I like my coffee black
Oltv shows
My women hot and my beer ice cold
Its just who I am
A meat and potato man
I dont like caviar, sushi bars,
The irs or phony stars
Im a haggard fan
A meat and potato man
I like my fishinholes, lightninbugs
Flatt nscruggs, and my womans love
Its just who I am
A meat and potato man
I like my wrangler jeans, cowboy boots
Cornbread and beans and country roots
Its just who I am
A meat and potato man
I dont like politics, hypocrites
Folks with poodles dressed like kids
Im a hounddog fan
A meat and potato manyeah, thats what I am,
A meat and potato man
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dr Worm
They call me Dr. Worm,
Good morning, how are you? I'm Dr. Worm.
I'm interested in things,
I'm not a real doctor but I am a real worm,
I am an actual worm,
I live like a worm.
I like to play the drums.
I think I'm getting good, but I can handle criticism.
I'll show you what I know and you can
Tell me if you think I'm getting better on the drums
I'll leave the front unlocked 'cause I can't
Hear the doorbell...
When I get into it, I can't tell if you are
Watching me twirling the stick.
When I give the signal, my friend
Rabbi Vole will play the solo...
Someday, somebody else besides me will
Call me by my stage name, they will
Call me Dr. Worm,
Good morning, how are you? I'm Dr. Worm.
I'm interested in things.
I'm not a real doctor but I am a real worm,
I am an actual worm,
I live like a worm.
And I like to play the drums,
I think I'm getting good, but I can handle criticism.
I'll show you what I know and you can
Tell me if you think I'm getting better on the drums.
I'm not a real doctor, but they call me
Dr. Worm!
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Doctor Worm
They call me dr. worm.
Good morning. how are you? Im dr. worm.
Im interested in things.
Im not a real doctor,
But I am a real worm;
I am an actual worm.
I live like a worm.
I like to play the drums.
I think Im getting good,
But I can handle criticism.
Ill show you what I know,
And you can tell me if you think Im getting better on the drums.
Ill leave the front un-locked cause I cant
Hear the doorbell
When I get into it I cant tell if you are
Watching me twirling the stick.
When I give the signal, my friend
Rabbi vole will play the solo
Some day somebody else besides me will
Call me by my stage name, they will
Call me dr worm.
Good morning how are you, Im dr worm
Im interested in things.
Im not a real doctor,
But I am a real worm;
I am an actual worm.
I live like a worm.
I like to play the drums.
I think Im getting good,
But I can handle criticism.
Ill show you what I know,
And you can tell me if you think Im getting better on the drums.
Im not a real doctor,
But they call me dr. worm.
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The (f) Rying Woman....
to pry upon his weakness and to discover
some artifacts from his house is her past time
and every hour when there is a break from the
wanton hours and the monotonous menu of the day
she opens the usual window and watch what the
worm is doing inside the terrarium
she records the possibility that this can be a landmark
of history and significant for what others say as a phenomenon
other people's lives matter
and sometimes the worm that looks at her too asks: why?
the worm, and she does not know this, is also prying upon her
her shrinking breasts, her skin that looks like dry tobacco leaf
her life that to the worm has become more of a raisin
stuffed inside a boxed, with a history of having been dried by the sun
the worm is fair though, in its latest description
she is still sweet though neutral in smell, and deserves still to be liked to be eaten someday
p.s. the worm remarks, kids will like her.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Ant Worm Story...
shall i finish the story of the ant
and the worm?
at the cliff the worm jumps
landing on the arms of the grounded worm
and there and then
willfully, euphoniously, they both lived
happily ever-after
if you only write it yourself
i could have read a better ending than what i have
lazily imagined.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Worm Either Way
If you live along with all the other people
and are just like them, and conform, and are nice
you're just a worm --
and if you live with all the other people
and you don't like them and won't be like them and won't conform
then you're just the worm that has turned,
in either case, a worm.
The conforming worm stays just inside the skin
respectably unseen, and cheerfully gnaws away at the heart of life,
making it all rotten inside.
The unconforming worm -- that is, the worm that has turned --
gnaws just the same, gnawing the substance out of life,
but he insists on gnawing a little hole in the social epidermis
and poking his head out and waving himself
and saying: Look at me, I am not respectable,
I do all the things the bourgeois daren't do,
I booze and fornicate and use foul language and despise your honest man.--
But why should the worm that has turned protest so much?
The bonnie bonnie bourgeois goes a-whoring up back streets just the same.
The busy busy bourgeois imbibes his little share
just the same
if not more.
The pretty pretty bourgeois pinks his language just as pink
if not pinker,
and in private boasts his exploits even louder, if you ask me,
than the other.
While as to honesty, Oh look where the money lies!
So I can't see where the worm that has turned puts anything over
the worm that is too cunning to turn.
On the contrary, he merely gives himself away.
The turned worm shouts. I bravely booze!
the other says. Have one with me!
The turned worm boasts: I copulate!
the unturned says: You look it.
You're a d----- b----- b----- p----- bb-----, says the worm that's turned.
Quite! says the other. Cuckoo!
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bone OUT
Dog
Did not
Lovengely
Eat at...
Meat...
Why...?
Meat bone less
Meat...
So...
Dog did not
Eat meet...
Dog wanted for
Bone...
With meat...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Part 4: The fish saves the worm
The big-mouth fish, snatched the worm.
As the worm was afraid; a small piece of him,
was left, on the sharp object.
The fish cuddle him, in his mouth.
Swimming as fast as he can;
to make it, close to the shore.
The fish, spit him out, on the land.
As the worm landed, he look toward the fish.
And said, ' thank you for not eating me? '
I wish you well, the fish said. Take care!
As the worm grind his way, toward a new place.
Knowing this ain't his home, the ground was moist.
He drilled a hole, and discover a new home.
The End....
poem by Derrick Clark
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Professor Nutbutters House Of Treats
Cmon kiddies gather round. whos your foremost friend in town?
From main to maple the name resounds, professor nutbutter.
Hes the one, the humble one, the barkley county prodigal son.
Here to serve only you, professor nutbutter.
At old nutbutters house of treats from jellied jams to sacks of
Sweets,
Theres creamy and nutatious spreads for all.
Chemist, master of entomology the professor for a modest fee
Will cure what ails you, guaranteed professor nutbutter.
Its alright, dont fear the worm.
Cmon kiddies dont be shy be youthful til the day you die.
The man the myth, the magic of professor nutbutter.
Hes the one the only one the meeklybville prodigal son.
Here to help us with ourselves, professor nutbutter
Its alright to fear the worm.
[its all right to fear the worm. the worm, the worm is our friend.
Um, but not all of the properties of the worm can be, uh, fully,
Fully, well, appreciated by the, uh, the human body itself, but, um
Its, its, its, its ok to, to fear the worm. um, i, myself, have
Had no, uh, problems with the worm but in a certain situation, uh, i
Would feel like, what, what, uh, ramifications, um, could occur? uh,
Theres, theres really no need to, uh, to fear much of anything, you
Know. fear of the, fear of the temptation is a, more, probably, more,
More, appropriate word in this particular scenario. um, the, uh,
Well, it, depends on what you want, I suppose. it really depends on,
On what you want.]
song performed by by Primus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Muse From The Forest
The white gold,
The black gold,
The red gold,
The yellow gold,
'Obroni-Nephew' is about to teach you all;
Like the very call of a muse from the forest.
The Chinese eat all animals, fish and insects;
The very call from the forest with a view but,
Do you like to be fed with crocodile meat?
The lizard meat,
The lion meat,
The tiger meat,
The snake meat,
The elephant meat,
Life is like that for many who eat everything;
The Chinese eat all animals, fish and insects.
Life is like a visit to the biggest cemetery on earth,
Do you like to be fed with cockroaches?
Whatever we eat today,
We will be burried one day.
Of the brown gold,
Of the orange gold,
Of the green gold,
Of the blue gold,
The Chinese eat all meat, fish and insects.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Choices
i prefer smooth peanut butter
to crunchy
mind you
crunchy is all right
but i prefer smooth.
i prefer strawberry jam
to raspberry
mind you
raspberry is tasty
but it's got all those seeds
and i prefer strawberry.
i prefer mustard
to mayonaisse
mind you mayonaisse has it's place
amongst condiments
but is likely to go bad
if left out to long
and poison everyone
so on the whole i prefer mustard.
i prefer cooked meat
to raw meat
for much the same reason
as i prefer mustard to mayonaisse
although it also has to do
with the fact that i don't
like my meat to bleat
or moo or make chicken noises (BAGOCK!)
when i eat
so i tend to avoid the raw
though mind you
the meat that i prefer
may at some time have been raw.
i prefer not to say
why i think so
but i do
and i suppose it's all
just a matter of taste
so if you'd prefer to think so
then crunchy is better
than smooth
even if it does interfere
with the texture of the
peanut butter
and jelly (strawberry) sandwich
which ought to be somewhat
devoid of substance
merely a sticky sweet something
to fill your stomach
put mayonaisse on it
if you like
i'd prefer not to think about it.
poem by Laura Sewell
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter V: Fact
A lie with no fact is an ego
A lie with some fact is an argument
A lie with all fact is a plagiarism
A fact with no lie is a truth
A fact with some lie is a gossip
A fact with all lie is a fiction
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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The Beacon
The silent shepherdess,
She of my vows,
Here with me exchanging love
Under dim boughs.
Shines on our mysteries
A sudden spark--
'Dout the candle, glow-worm,
Let all be dark.
'The birds have sung their last notes,
The Sun's to bed,
Glow-worm, dout your candle.'
The glow-worm said:
'I also am a lover;
The lamp I display
Is beacon for my true love
Wandering astray.
'Through the thick bushes
And the grass comes she
With a heartload of longing
And love for me.
'Sir, enjoy your fancy,
But spare me harm,
A lover is a lover,
Though but a worm.'
poem by Robert Graves
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Rare Meat.
Rare meat.
The blackbird seem to sing.
And though I spluttered
'I am vegetarian'
Rare Meat, rare meat!
And my neighbour
Talked of the importance of
'Being in harness again'
Then I realised,
The bird was much nearer to understanding
The kind of species I am!
Rare meat!
And cannon fodder for the cowboys
And manipulators,
All the same!
For my heart
Will always stray to the unheard tune.
And the song of the bird,
Comforted the taut nerves
Of a weary owl.
Who`s been round the clock,
But still does not like the carousel!
poem by Peter Vealey
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Among All Lovely Things My Love Had Been
AMONG all lovely things my Love had been;
Had noted well the stars, all flowers that grew
About her home; but she had never seen
A glow-worm, never one, and this I knew.
While riding near her home one stormy night
A single glow-worm did I chance to espy;
I gave a fervent welcome to the sight,
And from my horse I leapt; great joy had I.
Upon a leaf the glow-worm did I lay,
To bear it with me through the stormy night:
And, as before, it shone without dismay;
Albeit putting forth a fainter light.
When to the dwelling of my Love I came,
I went into the orchard quietly;
And left the glow-worm, blessing it by name,
Laid safely by itself, beneath a tree.
The whole next day, I hoped, and hoped with fear;
At night the glow-worm shone beneath the tree;
I led my Lucy to the spot, 'Look here,'
Oh! joy it was for her, and joy for me!
poem by William Wordsworth
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One Mans Meat
Cold beer and a strange cigarette
Getting you high getting you wet
Falling in love falling out of debt
Straight gay black or white
Strutting in the dark hiding in the light
Doing it wrong doing it right just doing it
You got your life on the one hand
Mine in the other
I got the right we all got the right
One mans meat is the other mans lousy luck
One mans meat is someones empty well
One mans meat is some guys aching butt
One mans meat is another mans living hell
Short fat thick or thin
Take it in the gut take it on the chin
Living in glory living in sin
Hard days work going down slow
Riding the road where the greengrass grows
Watching in die what dyou know
Watch it
You got your life on the one hand
Mine in the other
I got the right
One mans meat is the other mans lousy luck
One mans meat is someones empty well
One mans meat is some guys aching butt
One mans meat is another mans living hell
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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