Of my own work I think that the picture of peasants eating potatoes I did in Nuenen is after all the best I've done.
Vincent van Gogh in letter to Wilhelmina van Gogh (1887)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Beans and Potatoes
Seventeen years on the graveyard shift
Retetitive work leaves her hands in pain
Swollen are her feet, fifty hours a week
leaves her body drained
Week to week pays of nothing more than minimum wage
Making ends meet is a constant strain
Beans and potatoes
All she has to show for her pain
A cigarette on her midnight break
As every muscle continues to ache
Knowing when arriving home her work is never done....
Wake the kids, rush them to school
Only then the real work has begun.
Grabs her pail to tend the garden crop
In the Kentucky mud, only the best potatoes she will shop
Put the beans on the stove, peel the potatoes,
Feed the children, tuck them into bed
Only then her work will stop
Every hour spent in the garden, and on the hard concrete factory floor
Every miracle made with the monthly bills
Are moments closer to lives her children will never endure
No money saved for a rainy day, nor money for college
Only by example she can lead, so each child knows
To want more out of their lives than beans and potatoes
poem by Carl Leiland
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Siberian Tiger
Nicole, when you were still with me,
I did a picture of a Siberian tiger,
Underneath the picture,
I put your name.
The picture now reminds me of you.
Every time I look at that picture,
I start to cry over you,
I miss you.
I still wonder why stuff went wrong,
What I did to cause it.
You should be here,
But you’re not.
I blame myself for all kinds of things,
Not eating like I should have,
Sleeping too little,
Not listening.
In my heart is the picture I made,
See the white tiger,
So young, pure
It’s you.
My little tiger cub in heaven with God,
Angels are watching over you,
Someday I’ll be with you,
I promise, baby.
Love ya,
Mama
poem by Vanessa Kurtz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hot Potatoes
My baby woke me up this mornin
She said get down that labour exchange,
And if you dont come home with a job son,
Youll get no dinner to-day.
You gotta secure me a weekly workin wage.
Youll get no more fancy cookin,
Youll get no more apple pie,
Youll just get those plain hot potatoes
To satisfy your appetite.
La la la la la la potatoes,
Boiled, french fried, any old way that you wanna decide.
Hot potatoes, yeh,
I want your lovin every single day.
I said I dont need your fancy cooking,
I like the simple things in life,
Just give me those plain hot potatoes
And Ill be well satisfied,
Theyll satisfy my appetite.
La la la la la la potatoes,
Boiled, french fried, any old way that you wanna decide.
Hot potatoes, yeh,
I want your lovin 60 minutes an hour,
I want your lovin 24 hours a day,
I want your lovin 7 days a week.
Yeh, yeh, oh yeh.
I want your love, I need your love,
But all I get is hot potatoes
When I come home late at night
To satisfy my appetite.
Dont give me no more potatoes,
Boiled, french fried, any old way you wanna decide.
Hot potatoes,
I want your lovin every single day.
I want your lovin
La la la la la la potatoes,
Boiled, french fried, any old way that you wanna decide.
Hot potatoes, hot potatoes, yeh.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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May seventeenth
Wergeland's statue on May seventeenth
Saw the procession. And as its rear-guard,
Slow marching masses,
Strong men, and women with flower-decked presence;
Come now the peasants, come now the peasants.
Österdal's forest's magnificent chieftain
Bore the old banner. Soon as we see it
Blood-red uplifted,
Greet it the thousands in thought of its story:
That is our glory, that is our glory!
Never that lion bore crown that was foreign,
Never that cloth was by Dannebrog cloven.
I saw the
future
,
When with that banner by Wergeland's column
Peasants stood solemn, peasants stood solemn.
Most of our loss in the times that have vanished,
Most of our victories, most of our longing,
Most that is vital:
Deeds of the past and the future's bold daring
Peasants are bearing, peasants are bearing.
Sorely they suffered for sins once committed,
But they arise now. Here in the Storting
Stalwart they prove it,
All, as they come from our land's every region,
Peasants Norwegian, peasants Norwegian.
Hold what they won, with a will to go farther;
Whole we must have independence and honor!
All of us know it:
Wergeland's summer bears soon its best flower,-
Power in peasants, peasants in power.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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The 'Potato' Poem
I love potatoes chopped up into chunky chips.
I love spicy potato wedges, served up with dips.
I love potato slices which have been fried in a pan:
Of sautéed potatoes, I am the world's biggest fan.
I love potatoes which have been pummelled and bashed
With butter and milk to make a real light, fluffy mash.
Jacket potatoes, I find a bit dry, but with a nice filling
Such as chilli, to give them a try, I am more willing.
With breakfast, I love hash browns or potato cakes,
And I love potatoes mixed up with leeks in a bake.
Crispy, golden potatoes, served up with Sunday roast
Are among the kinds of potato which I love the most.
Mixed in soups and casseroles, I love potatoes diced.
On top on minced beef hotpot, I love potatoes sliced.
Fluffy potato stuffed inside a crispy potato croquette
Is also rather nice, and, for me, it is another safe bet.
I love potatoes cut into crisps: the slices, wafer thin,
And, as a starter, I simply love loaded potato skins:
I do adore a delicious dish of Bombay potato curry:
For me, it is a taste which I won't forget in a hurry.
I like potatoes diced up with creamy mayonnaise,
Served up with salad on really hot summer days.
But I don't like potatoes which have been boiled:
From potatoes, cooked this way, in horror, I recoil.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Picture Picture by Tanya Markova
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Nang gabing masilayan ka...
Dala-dala ko pa
Ang aking lumang camera
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Campus gig noon at nag-aya ang tropa
Maraming bebot ang nagsasayaw
Nang biglang mapansin kita
What a beautiful face
At kinunan kita
What a beautiful face
Angat ka sa iba
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
What a beautiful
What a beautiful face
I saw her face
Mukha syang taga-a a outerspace
Si Mang Roger ako'y kinalabit
Ang sabi
Halika na balot muna
Bago ka mag-konica
Na seramika gawa sa pabrika
Lagot ka na ang kamera may mahika
Ano ang lohika kung bat nahilo ka
Mekaniko si Moniko ng makina ni Monika
What a beautiful face
Bigla kang nawala
What a beautiful face
Ako'y natulala
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
What a beautiful
What a beautiful face
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Mekaniko si Moniko ng makina ni Monika
What a beautiful face
O nasaan ka na
What a beautiful face
Hinahanap-hanap ka
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
What a beautiful
What a beautiful face...
poem by Shi Yelami
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Picture Yo Body
picture your body on top of me
picture your body on top of me
picture your body on top of me
verse1:we can chill at my place( wanna work on ya
work on ya work on yua work on ya)
can i offer you some kool-aid(hennessey and alize
a long island ice-tea) we can watch a little TV
freaky movies freaky movie freaky movies
freaky movies i like the vibe that you've given me
got my nature rsing natur rising,
chours: picture your body on top of me.nanananana picture your
body on top of me.nanananana picture your body on top of me nananana
picture your body on top of me. think about it think about it
Verse2: i will take you to ????. after we eat then
we're gonna get freaky. after dinner then we'll go to the
limo. (lets get it on in the back of the benzo)
i'm gone dress you in the finest clothes nothing but
nothing but nothing but them thong-joe) i'm gone buy
you a diamond ring, buy you a ring cause i love
the way you make me scream.
(Chorus)
verse3: masage your body and recline at the meeko
( 69 lets go to the mo-mo)
masage your body and recline at the meeko
( 69 lets go to the mo-mo)
masage your body and recline at the meeko
( 69 lets go to the mo-mo) 69....
(chorus out)
song performed by by 3pc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Americans who had traveled in Europe knew the 'free' European peasants suffered considerably greater oppression and misery than did American bondsman. Modern scholarship has shown that the exploitation rate -- the percentage of the worker's production that was taken from him by his owners -- was lower among the slaves than among European peasants, that work loads were light, and that slaves actually experienced a considerable measure of personal freedom.
quote by Forest McDonald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Guide to Eating Meat
Eating a little beef
Could cause a Hindu grief,
Eating too much chicken
Can make a person sicken,
Eating lots of lamb
Is preferable to Spam,
Eating a leg of pork
Won't make the neighbours talk,
But eating Mum and Dad
Is DEFINITELY BAD! !
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Zen does not confuse spirituality with thinking about God while one is peeling potatoes. Zen spirituality is just to peel the potatoes.
quote by Alan Watts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So from the mould
66
So from the mould
Scarlet and Gold
Many a Bulb will rise—
Hidden away, cunningly, From sagacious eyes.
So from Cocoon
Many a Worm
Leap so Highland gay,
Peasants like me,
Peasants like Thee
Gaze perplexedly!
poem by Emily Dickinson
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We & Dem
We no know how we and dem a-go work this out, oy!
We no know how we and dem a-go work it out.
But someone will ave to pay
For the innocent blood
That they shed every day,
Oh, children, mark my word;
Its what the Bible say, yeah! yeah!
Oh, we no know how we and dem a-go work this out;
We no know how we and dem a-go work it out.
But in the beginning jah created everythin (oo-oo-oo-oo-ooh),
Givin man dominion over all things.
But now its too late,
You see, men has lost their faith (oo-oo-oo-oo-ooh), hey-ey-hey!
Eating up all the flesh from off the earth, eh!
We no know how we and dem a-go work this out (we no know);
We no know how we and dem a-go work this out (no, we dont know);
Dub-da-dub-da-dub!
Dub-a-dippidi-doop-de-doo!
Nim-a-nummany num-na-noo!
Num-a-nummana-num-da-nay!
Dippy-dippy-dippy: dip-de-dub-de-day!
Dip-a-dubbada-dub-da-day!
But I say: we no know how we and dem a-go work it out:
Them a flesh and bone!
We no know how we and dem a-go work it out.
But we now have no friends
In-a high society, yea-a-eah!
We no have no friends;
Oh, mark my identity;
We no have no friends. oh-oh! yeah!
We no know how we and dem a-go work this out (no, we no know);
We no know how we and dem a-go work this out (we no know);
We no know how we and dem a-go work it out (no, we dont know);
(we no know how we and dem a-go work this out.) rasta!
(we no know how we and dem a-go work this out.) ilyabom! /fadeout/
song performed by by Bob Marley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I was raised almost entirely on turnips and potatoes, but I think that the turnips had more to do with the effect than the potatoes.
quote by Marlene Dietrich
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Same Old
Same old sobbing, same old laughter,
Living happily ever after,
Eating potatoes, peas, and porridge,
Then being placed back into storage.
Sliced apart, preserved in jars,
Some severed heads amidst the stars,
Distilled in vinegar on dusty shelves,
Separated- by themselves.
And in the end it's all the same,
A footnote with a face and name,
The same old mob of sad-eyed mourners,
The same old cobwebs in the corners.
poem by Joshua Dinkin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The meat-and-potatoes work of world journalism is performed by the wire service reporters.
quote by Bob Greene
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Hundred Years Of Work, A Second Junked
sad. i must tell you it is sad
and there is a reason for me, for us, to be sad
on this sad day bringing the saddest news
you work on it a hundred days
it is read, their heads shaking, they could have told you,
you are wasting your time, you could have spent it planting
potatoes, yes potatoes in your backyard,
you emote, this is my life, these are the lines of my life,
authentic, deep, true, sincere, eathly, mundane,
and too divine, God given, Spirited, conscientiously worded
deep from the heart of me, a prayer, my innermost
my heart, my soul, chasm of pure intentions
honest,
they shake their heads of your piece of shit,
junk, scratch, crumple, into the wastebasket of your days.
a hundred years of work, in a second junked, discarded.
they're honest, you're no good salamagan salamander.
think and be quiet. Hmmmmmmmmm...who cares?
whisper this to yourself: om om om i am good, i am good,
i am beautiful. i am great.
consolaton price. consuelo de bobo.
you're ggggggggggggggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreat. amen.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I have taken the marshmallows off the sweet potatoes, however. They would make a big pan of sweet potatoes and cover it with marshmallows. My kids would love it if I would do that for them!
quote by Edie Brickell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Four Letter 'Work' Song
Work me up, work me out, work me flip side down.
Work me here, work me there, work me with renown.
Work me hot, work me greedy,
work me through and through.
Work me to the very marrow,
work me just like I'd work you.
Work me proud, work me late,
work me do not hesitate.
Won't you let me work for you?
Work me til I'm black and blue.
Work me steady, work me needy, work me to a lather.
Work me til my backbone breaks, and the buzzards gather.
Work me in, work me under, work me til I bleed,
Work me over red hot coals, work me like a boss in need.
Work me nasty, work me silly, work me through the clover.
Up down, 'n' in between, into a slipknot sweet Jehovah.
Work me, work me, go ahead.
Work me, work me, til I'm dead.
Buddy Bee Anthony
poem by Buddy Bee Anthony
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Could You Picture Life?
Could you picture life?
Could you picture life?
Misty morning with birds singing melodies,
Could you picture life in the clouds,
The Morning star,
The comets,
The ufos,
The foolishness in racism,
Could you see CNN,
The crimes and the bursting that we play everyday,
The religious crimes,
Could you picture the negation in man?
That we die everyday is sin,
Could you picture?
Love is worth the New World Understanding,
Picture my eyes and see that we all be crying,
My brothers and sisters are dyeing and suffocating,
Picture the New World,
Where the True Understanding will dwell in our heart,
Could you picture?
You and I are no different,
We same creatures that creep for Bread,
Could you picture?
No man better than other,
Could you picture?
The credibility of Human Trust.
poem by Maxpoet Beauty
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Basically, though, I believe in eating well, not eating too much but eating a variety of foods.
quote by Joan Collins
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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