Supper
The supper of the red soup came with love,
And Veh came along with Xeh as the next door neighbours;
But Beh was my friend on the supper of the red soup,
And i will take Beh back home on this love.
The pictures of my mind brought up wonderful colours,
And of the muse of the red soup so enjoyed last night;
But i will take Beh back home to embrace my love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Shoe-Size
Please, try to tell me your shoe-size next time;
For there is something in the soup!
Cop, coop!
Lop, loop!
Desert, dessert!
Super, supper!
Upper, supper;
Upon the muse of love and of the muse of peace! !
But, this is all about your shoe-size.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Soup Of The Day
Well she thinks shes looking so cool
She thinks shes great but shes just a fool
What awful lack of class makes this kind behave this way
I look and only think of one thing to say
Soup, shes just soup
Soup of the day
Shes thin around the waistline
Thin around the brain
You see this type so many times
Time and time again
How could they really think
Theyd be treated in any other way
Everybodys looking and everybody say
Soup, shes just soup
Soup of the day
Well youd think theyd know better
That behaving in this way
They think theyre being clever
But I really have to say
Youd better think it over
Youll regret it one fine day
When the circus partys over
And you were just soup of the day
Shes just soup
Soup of the day
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Talk Soup
I dated siamese twins
I slept with bigfoot, too
Get me on sally jesse
Put me on donahue
cause I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
My dogs a narcoleptic
My moms a circus freak
I gotta get a spot on
Geraldos show this week
cause I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
Im just an anorexic codependant bingo addict
Stripper born without a chin
And Im only comfortable talking about it
When the whole wide world is listening in
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
My wife ran off with elvis
My boss shaved off my hair
Ive got a thing for poodles
And rubber underwear
And I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
I had a close encounter
I never chew my food
I got eleven nose jobs
I yodel in the nude
And I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
Im just a cross-dressin alcoholic neo-nazi
Porno star, as you may have guessed
And Im really gonna feel a whole lot better
If you let me get this thing off my chest
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Im just your average schizophrenic nymphomaniac
Albino go-go dancer, you see
Nothin so bad that I cant share it
With a billion friends on national tv, whoa...
I have no genitalia
I sold my kids for cheese
I love my blow up doll, so
Bring out those cameras, please
cause I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I was wrong: So what. todays idiocy
I say that it’s impossible.
You cannot eat soup with chop sticks
Though it is highly probable.
Someone will try to prove he can.
To demonstrate his cleverness
and show he is a better man.
What will it prove should he succeed?
That I’m mistaken in my view.
I will be happy to concede
.
the victory to some buffoon.
Who can eat soup using chop sticks.
I still prefer to use a spoon.
I think soup should be eaten hot
I do not like cold soup a lot.
20/06/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Soup of day
She said severely:
“God have said: the soup must be warm! ”
It was a Gazpacho, a cold soup to a warm evening.
I have mixed tomatos, cucumbers,
red and green peppers,
red onions, a few garlics,
a few parsleys and coriander.
This soup had a beautiful colour: red and green! green and red!
It was cold, very cold, iced.
I have warmed up her soup
I have grilled also some scallops
with a pistachio dressing
she said:
“It is delightful mostly the orange and red parts.”
It was only a question of colours
I have dreamt at a blue gazpacho, blue scallops
Blue like the sea but the sea is never blue
and the blue is not a tasty colour.
Then we have recited some french poems
This evening was quiet and tender
despite the heat wave.
I like to remember this iced soup
and the awful warmth.
poem by Jean Francois Le Goff
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Another clown
the clown with red nose
the clown with green ears
the clown with yellow cheeks
the clown with webbed feet
the children don’t like the clowns
all clowns
all the children are scared by all clowns
the child with orange hairs
the child with blue eyes
the child with pink smiles
the child with wide eyes
the clown don’t like the children
all children
all the clowns want to kill all children
the clown get back at home
He shouts: I hate the children
then he eats the soup of day
quietly smiling
the child get back at home
He shouts: I hate the clowns
then he eats the soup of day
quietly smiling
But the worst is forthcoming:
one child among one million
will become a clown
Me I am not a child
I am not a clown and
I do not like the soup
luckily
all sad stories have an end
and here I write a full stop
poem by Jean Francois Le Goff
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Sky Seasoning
A piece of sky
Broke off and fell
Through the crack in the ceiling
Right into my soup,
KERPLOP!
I really must state
That I usually hate
Lentil soup, but I ate
Every drop!
Delicious delicious
(A bit like plaster),
But so delicious, goodness sake--
I could have eaten a lentil-soup lake.
It's amazing the difference
A bit of sky can make.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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In Dark Shadows.
the pepper pot
towards the nun
on her right.
The salt follows
once more given
a gentle shove.
To understand
another’s need
without them asking,
an elderly nun
had said.
A nun is reading
from a high desk
in the refectory.
Some book on Cromwell,
a life, back whenever when.
She sips her soup,
the French soup spoon
held in her right hand.
The nun on her left
passes the water jug.
Offers to pour.
Sister Felicity nods
and smiles.
The nun pours
a liberal amount
then puts down the jug.
Opposite an elderly nun
dribbles soup,
her shaky hand
missing the target.
Nan did that.
How can one forget?
She remembers
her grandmother’s
slow decline;
the slippery slope
down to the side ward
in the dank hospital.
Onion soup. Too hot.
She blows to cool.
Sunlight reaches down
through high windows.
Worlds explode
in dark shadows.
poem by Terry Collett
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Musical Note
Don't worry about getting home late,
For i am the musical note of love around you;
And like the diamonds of Africa!
The more you learn the more you know,
So be transformed by the renewing of your mind!
And bring me 'Banku and Soup' so that,
You can deserve the best on this love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A man who touches the bottom of a soup plate with a ball of foofoo is no longer searching for soup.
One spoon of soup in need has more value than a pot of soup when we have an abundance of food.
You cook vegetable soup
You cook vegetable soup
and I look at you
while you cut green beans,
carrots, onions, celery, parsley
and tomatoes into two pots.
There are herbs, spices
and pepper that you are scattering
and two types of soup powder
that you throw in
and the pots steam and buzz
while I am washing the dishes
and the smell
makes me hungry
and I wonder
if the soup
are going to taste as good
as it smells.
We drink tee
and there’s medicine
that you give for flu
to me
and it’s great
to be with you
to read the look
in your beautiful eyes.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Suppertime
Supper time
I should set the table
cause its supper time
Somehow Im not able
cause that man omine
Aint comin home no more
Supper time
Kids will soon be yellin
For their supper time
Howll I keep from tellin
Them that man omine
Aint comin home no more?
Howll I keep explainin when they ask me where hes gone?
Howll I keep from cryin when I bring their supper on?
How can I remind them to pray at their humble board?
How can I be thankful when they start to thank the lord
Lord!
Supper time
I should set the table
cause its supper time
Somehow Im not able
cause that man omine
Aint comin home no more
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Suppertime
Supper time
I should set the table
cause its supper time
Somehow Im not able
cause that man omine
Aint comin home no more
Supper time
Kids will soon be yellin
For their supper time
Howll I keep from tellin
Them that man omine
Aint comin home no more?
Howll I keep explainin when they ask me where hes gone?
Howll I keep from cryin when I bring their supper on?
How can I remind them to pray at their humble board?
How can I be thankful when they start to thank the lord
Lord!
Supper time
I should set the table
cause its supper time
Somehow Im not able
cause that man omine
Aint comin home no more
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Supper is taken
One’s supper is mere bread
That he takes at home.
The other’s is rich pudding
That he gets at home.
Both return home for supper;
Both sleep with their wives.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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You will find out that Charity is a heavy burden to carry, heavier than the kettle of soup and the full basket. But you will keep your gentleness and your smile. It is not enough to give soup and bread. This the rich can do. You are the servant of the poor, always smiling and good-humored. They are your masters, terribly sensitive and exacting master you will see. and the uglier and the dirtier they will be, the more unjust and insulting, the more love you must give them. It is only for your love alone that the poor will forgive you the bread you give to them.
quote by Vincent de Paul
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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My Canadian Chronicles 31
Everywhere I go I make lists
of things I have to do when I get home.
Something on my list raises a smile,
but none ever gets a frown.
While speaking to my friend’s partner Ray
he asked me a question which the answer I did not know.
He wondered if we ever get packets
of Cream of Garlic Soup.
If we did, I would send him some.
Another thing to add my list was night stock.
A pretty little flower with a wonderful perfume
that only blooms at night,
as they don’t get it in Calgary.
I said I would get some seeds and send them as well.
Therefore, my little list grows as each day passes
with things I must do when I get home.
18 June 2009
poem by David Harris
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Pea Soup
In my usual morning pea soup mist, rubbing my sleepy eyes,
I saw what I thought was a stooped old man slowly walking by.
My dreamy world cleared a bit when I realised he was bleeding
and the stoop of his back made me stop to think
just why his life had come to this.
He wheeled a shopping trolley but he wasn't near a shop.
He seemed to walk with purpose but I knew that he was lost.
Nobody seemed to notice, nobody seemed to care.
Most of them still in a pea soup mist going about their affairs.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Sip It As If Kettled
Sip it as if kettled like a soup.
Then grade it,
Homemade.
And...
Savor every flavor that's pursued.
To aid,
Your best to be...
The one who lives your life,
Spiced and energized...
The way you like that's right.
And one of a kind you find!
Sip it as if kettled like a soup.
Then grade it,
Homemade.
And...
Savor every flavor that's pursued.
To aid,
Your best to be...
The one who lives your life,
Spiced and energized...
The way you like that's right.
And one of a kind you find!
Just sip it as if kettled like a soup.
Your life.
Spiced and energized...
The way you like that's right.
And,
Sip it as if kettled like a soup.
Your life.
Sip it as if kettled like a soup.
Your life.
And,
Sip it as if kettled like a soup.
Your life.
Sip it as if kettled like a soup.
Your life.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Honeycomb Child
Melting honeycomb
Tie my shoelace on my own
That boy laughing
Wearing my hands (?)
To pull me back in
Home, home, home
To your love
Home, home, home
To your love
Climb down the oak tree
Feeling the dry grass
Under my feet
I'm here without you
Holding on, holding on
Nothing to lose
And I don't mind
You protecting me
To the end us
And I don't mind
You protecting all the others
You, you carried me in
To bed from the car
I painted your face
But I had to ask
Permission to go
But don't go to far
And we like to watch
All the flickering stars
You don't like your face
But that's who you are
I got all those shells
And put them in a box
How far would you go
If I didn't want to stop
I looked in your eyes
And it was all gone
Home, home, home
To your love
Home (to your love)
Home (to your love)
Home (to your love)
To your love (to your love)
song performed by by Natalie Imbruglia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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