Eat Your Words
I am a veggie table
A table made of veg,
There’s so much fruit upon me
All living on the edge,
Life is hard
But so are plates
And tea can be quite hot,
And vegetarian poets
Make me nervous quite a lot.
poem by Benjamin Zephaniah
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Red Rose and Chardonnay
A dinner with chardonnay
Plates of love whilst piano play
A love song of long ago.
She sat by the table
A hands folded like napkin in array
And red roses on the table
Of two love birds
Today are their anniversary.
She excused herself
As the waiter arranged the table.
Today is their day
But her lover has another.
She waited for an hour
For he promised to surrender
The love he has for her.
She begged him not to part
But…he’s not here.
Nor his shadow emerged
Red rose and chardonnay
are now abandoned- by the table.
She exits in the moonless sky.
poem by Tess Rockenstire
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Portrait Of An Old Woman On The College Tavern Wall
Oh down at the tavern
the children are singing
around their round table
and around me still.
Did you hear what it said?
I only said
how there is a pewter urn
pinned to the tavern wall,
as old as old is able
to be and be there still.
I said, the poets are tere
I hear them singing and lying
around their round table
and around me still.
Across the room is a wreath
made of a corpse's hair,
framed in glass on the wall,
as old as old is able
to be and be remembered still.
Did you hear what it said?
I only said
how I want to be there and I
would sing my songs with the liars
and my lies with all the singers.
And I would, and I would but
it's my hair in the hair wreath,
my cup pinned to the tavern wall,
my dusty face they sing beneath.
Poets are sitting in my kitchen.
Why do these poets lie?
Why do children get children and
Did you hear what it said?
I only said
how I want to be there,
Oh, down at the tavern
where the prophets are singing
around their round table
until they are still.
poem by Anne Sexton
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Table
Who is sitting at our table
In our favourite restaurant.
Looking into each others eyes
While chatter smothers
Loving sighs.
As she holds his hand to squeeze
Under the table.
Will our ghosts drift on the breeze
Out of the window
Through the trees.
To be lost forever
Like a heartbeat
In dark streets
To pass away
Like loving nights on satin sheets.
Who sits at your table
Where candlelight
Lit your smile.
And we drank red wine in style.
To taste the sweetness
On your lips
The fruit of love
Minus the pips.
All out plans
We'd always discuss.
You would always make a fuss
About what you would wear
On our wedding day.
At that table
Our guest of fate did sit.
But didn't rest,
Couldn't stay.
Leaving me alone in twilight meadow
Like one last flower
To sway.
poem by Kevin East
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Table for Two
Table for Two
Anywhere
Me and you
Anytime
‘neath the stars,
waterfront,
midday sun.
The focus –
for love
and time and space
to still awhile
and face
each other
and gaze
and smile
and edge across the table -
and kiss
July 2008
poem by Colin Phillimore
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Food On My Table
Come and see the food on my table,
For it is prepared for you and me;
And, i am waiting for you in the room of my love.
Life is full of surprises and i want to show you my love,
And here comes the sun of the morning to touch your heart;
For, it is right for you to be beside me at this table.
The food on my table,
As soon as you receive my letter means that i love you;
For life is full of surprises and i want your love,
So come and let us share this food on my table.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Table For Two!
Flash of dream overcome me
as I took slumber one night
I saw a romantic setting
lies a set of table for two
A bouquet of red roses
decorate at the center
where a bottle of red wine
completes the table for two
I saw you entered the haven
dressed in rainbow colored suit
your face so pretty with a smile
as we kissed at the table for two
Mesmerized by your countenance
I was filled with romantic stance
as we danced to the tune of love
such so divine at the table for two
Awaken at height of joy
I am filled with inspiration
as today it becomes a reality
a table for two on Valentines day
poem by Marvin Brato Sr
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Falling Off The Edge Of The World
I think about closing the door
And lately I think of it more
Im living well out of my time
I feel like Im losing my mind
I should be at the table round
A servant of the crown
The keeper of the sign
To sparkle and to shine
Never, no never again!
Listen to me and believe what I say if you can
Never, this is the end
You know Ive seen the faces of doom and Im only a man
Help me, tell me Im sane
I feel a change in the earth, in the wind and the rain
Save me, take me away
You know Ive seen some creatures from hell and Ive heard what they say!
Ive got to be strong
Oh, Im falling off the edge of the world
Think youre safe, but youre wrong!
We are falling off the edge of the world!
Look out! theres danger! no where to run!
It seems like desperate measures but sometimes it has to be done
Over, its over at last
Theres a message inside as we build a new life from the past
Were falling off the edge of the world!
Yes, the edge of the world!
Its the end of the world!
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fanny's China Garden
Shards of pottery and china
remembered patterns
decorated the small garden
within her garden
underneath the apple tree
Tucking them in
beside her little flowers
she kept her memories
not quite intact
Saving careful pennies in a tin
Putting-by the six place tea-set
Paying it off Bringing it home
His comments on her silliness
Wet's tha want wi that?
Pleasure as she set the table
Polished them admiringly
Prized for Christmas and on Boxing Day
their Anniversary Anxious
watching as clumsy sons left them
on the table edge or
sideways on the saucer
Tears when a cup handle pulled
away as she washed up
clattering the cup to chip
two others and a saucer
For years she used them for herself
Her cross a tracery of flower
round the smooth translucent china
Handleless
Pain stabbing as he dropped
two plates on quarry tiles
in the scullery
Making a point
Quarter plate - part cup -
just a deckle-edge bouquet
Tucking-in the pretty bits
sharp side down
to cheer the flower border
Loss and memory growing
01May1996 CPR
poem by Charlotte Peters Rock
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Your dressing table in the hall
In the house in fifth avenue
I put a small pink white marble table
below a mirror in the corridor
with a bowl with flowers standing on it
that acted as your dressing table
and as a place of display
where I saw your face smiling back at me
while you were doing your hair
teasing with curling tongs
or reflections of the rows of paintings
with the wood floor fading into the distance
and now that mirror and table
is probably still there,
but you are living alone
in that big house
and will never again
smile back into my face.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Primary And Secondary
bread and butter thing
water and white rice on the table
eggs and vegetables
spread on the covered table
these are the primaries of life
poetry is at nighttime
reading aloud
composing some more
analyzing other poets' works
telling to yourself
this smacks the senses
this strikes the core of my being
this will not make me sleep again
invigorating
worth the lost salt of myself
not looking back
moving on
sailing on the boat in the middle
of such storm
seeking peace
sleeping alone and dreaming
these are the secondaries of existence
tomorrow can be
incompetent
today is the most evident
the past is duly taken
notice
the void comes
and then to its wings i take my daily ride.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A loving dinner
Story: One evening, they came home late
Mom, cooking dinner in a speedy craze
Asked: Help me to set the table, please?
There comes her sweetheart:
Zdring! ! Zdrang! ! Zdrong!
Shaking the sfrrr
sfrrr frying pan,
Mom cries out:
'LOVE! '
The daughter,
with the plates
in her hand, freeze
Dad's nose came out
from the newspaper wondering
Smiling, mom said: ~With love, my dears:
'All things that on our table come,
With love and kindness handled are.'
That evening? Oh, yes indeed,
they had one of the most beautiful
ever meals.
poem by Elena Sandu
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Coroner's Day
A torn shirt smeared in red
On the table calmly sleeps the dead
Strewn around are organs and the heart
Incredible to imagine them as the departed’s part!
Useless as they are now experimental blocks
Drained of life heedless to the clocks
No love no emotion in the cold dim room
Is living natural or more so is doom?
Reeking of the dead eerie scissors sweep
One by one they cut strong and deep
Dismembering the lover cutting through the brave
But no show of courage when the abode is grave!
Drying bloods of passion drip from the dead
The once living corpse on the table goes fade
With no words or voice feelings blown away
He could at last make the coroner’s day!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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An Ode for David
Inspiration
From a lopsided table?
Words written down
Told as a fable
Strange request you have
My dear friend
Inspiration I will find
This I do intend
Wooden Table
Possess my tongue
Wintered table
Cry from my lungs
Pen striking paper
You shall be my muse
May the bleeding ink
Cry of your blues
Splintered skin
In a corner rest forgotten
Winding legs
You stand wild as cotton
Pen stroke slide
Across your lofty floor
Three legs you stand
When you should have four
Awkward table
You have no friend
Ancient table
You've reached your bitterend
Should my pen learn sea legs
I'd love you once more
But, on three legs you stand
When you should have four
poem by Kay Gardner
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The Banquet For The Spectator
the table is abundant
like life, but to be happy
i eat nothing,
i watch them all
fill their appetites
after this banquet
i ask them to take away
all that is unconsumed.
when the table is empty
what i have is full satisfaction
of course, i never tell them
i am polite.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Mom Sets the Table
Night after night my mom sets the table
full of joy she passes her hand over the green fleat
like dishes she lays her chips down
they her finest china carefully stacked
her drink is the insurance bet
night after night 21 meals are servered
6 people share the meal with her
we her family eat alone
yet night after night my mom sets the table
the table of broken dreams and poisoned meals
night after night she countinues to eat
untill is consumed
Night after night my mom sets the table
night after night we her family shallow the bitter meal she makes
Night after night my mom sets the table.....
poem by Bikramjyoti Kashyop
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My Mom Sets the Table
Night after night my mom sets the table
full of joy she passes her hand over the green fleat
like dishes she lays her chips down
they her finest china carefully stacked
her drink is the insurance bet
night after night 21 meals are servered
6 people share the meal with her
we her family eat alone
yet night after night my mom sets the table
the table of broken dreams and poisoned meals
night after night she countinues to eat
untill is consumed
Night after night my mom sets the table
night after night we her family shallow the bitter meal she makes
Night after night my mom sets the table
poem by Vincent Armone
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San Pedro de Alcantara
[An orange on the table
Your dress on the rug
And you in my bed
Sweet gift of the present
Freshness of the night
Warmth of my life
- 'Alicante', Jacques Prevert]
Clothes strewn on the table
Juice stains the floor board
He rises above you
You journey beneath him
I watch from the window
Cold in the night
Lemon tea on the dresser
Seed of pomegranite
Adorning your belly
As he falls above you
You draw down his kisses
Warm essence of life
Stranded at the station
In the cold of the morning
My bed for your sleeping
The rug for your dress
In the warmth of awakening
Dawn your caress
Lemons on the table
You make up by the window
I lie in my bed
Unable to watch you
The night steals the freshness
The gift that you left
Now I lie beside you
Emptiness on the table
Your hem in my fingers
The gift a deliverance
Your presence a memory
Warmth of the past.
poem by Frank Bana
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A Marriage-Table
THERE was a marriage-table where One sate,
Haply, unnoticed, till they craved His aid:
Thenceforward does it seem that He has made
All virtuous marriage-tables consecrate:
And so, at this, where without pomp or state
We sit, and only say, or mute, are fain
To wish the simple words 'God bless these twain!'
I think that He who 'in the midst' doth wait
Oft-times, would not abjure our prayerful cheer,
But, as at Cana, list with gracious ear
To us, beseeching, that the Love divine
May ever at their household table sit,
Make all His servants who encompass it,
And change life's bitterest waters into wine.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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The Table of Hope
Inspired by JOEY VELASCO'S painting, HAPAG NG PAG-ASA
(The Table Of Hope)
Thank you, Lord for this wonderful show
Of happy faces, sincere and true
Without asking why who we are, what we wear
Without doubts, without fear, without a tear
Here we are in your table, your children in the street
Celebrating your birthday in the simplest way
In your table of hope, sharing your food
Where your presence is what we're after
Christmas miracle do happen,
Because you wanted it to be
You choose us, the weak, the poor and the lame
To share with you, to be with you
In the table of hope..in the table of hope..
Thank you, Jesus, for giving us hope
Thank you, Jesus, for Christmas
Note: thank you for reading.You can search
and type Joey Velasco in the Google website & You Tube
and you will be led to his great paintings
poem by Meggie Gultiano
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No fruit. No veggie.
quote by Bea Arthur
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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