There was an Old Man of Calcutta,
Who perpetually ate bread and butter,
Till a great bit of muffin,
On which he was stuffing,
Choked that horrid Old Man of Calcutta
quote by by Edward Lear
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There was an old man of Calcutta,
Who perpetually ate bread & butter;
Till a great bit of muffin
On which he was stuffing,
Choked that horrid old man of Calcutta.
quote by by Edward Lear
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Bread is wiser
Butter is richer than bread
But can’t replace bread.
But butter is better with bread
For which is not sad the bread.
Wives are not wiser than bread.
05.02.2000, Palakkad
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Have you ever found any logical reason why mutual promises are sufficient consideration for one another (like the two lean horses of a Calcutta hack who can only just stand together)? I have not.
quote by Frederick Pollock
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There once was a chap from Calcutta
Who had, on the horses, a flutter;
But electronic bookies
Kept sending out cookies
Which caused him, with cuses, to mutter.
(Written Oct 2012)
quote by by John Carter Brown
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75
Don't give in to discouragement.
If you are discouraged it is a sign of pride
because it shows you trust
in your own powers.
Never bother about people's opinions.
Be obedient to truth.
For with humble obedience,
you will never be disturbed.
- Bl. Mother Teresa of Calcutta
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dawns Are Not All Poetry
Dawns are not all poetry in Calcutta
They raise the veil of the night
and dicover the ghetto that is civilisation
where phantoms of grief and greed
silhouetted in smoke and blood
pant and eat CO2 in sundry forms
poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
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Bread & Butter
I love bread and butter
and jam upon hot toast
and flowers in the summer
but I love you most.
I love the red spring tulips
and cold strawberry mousse
and I love chocolate pudding
but I love you most.
I love bread and butter
and honey for to spread
though honey is but nothing
to your warm caress.
I love bread and butter
but egg with chips will do
although they only half compare
to my love for you.
I dare not feign indifference
I love a red, red rose.
Their scent is ever fragrant
but I love you most.
You know I love my mother
and sumptuous Sunday roast,
I love her home made puddings
but I love you most.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Sorrows of Werther
Werther had a love for Charlotte
Such as words could never utter;
Would you know how first he met her?
She was cutting bread and butter.
Charlotte was a married lady,
And a moral man was Werther,
And, for all the wealth of Indies,
Would do nothing for to hurt her.
So he sighed and pined and ogled,
And his passion boiled and bubbled,
Till he blew his silly brains out,
And no more was by it troubled.
Charlotte, having seen his body
Borne before her on a shutter,
Like a well-coducted person,
Went on cutting bread and butter.
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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The Sorows Of Werther
WERTHER had a love for Charlotte
Such as words could never utter;
Would you know how first he met her?
She was cutting bread and butter.
Charlotte was a married lady,
And a moral man was Werther,
And for all the wealth of Indies,
Would do nothing for to hurt her.
So he sigh'd and pined and ogled,
And his passion boil'd and bubbled,
Till he blew his silly brains out,
And no more was by it troubled.
Charlotte, having seen his body
Borne before her on a shutter,
Like a well-conducted person,
Went on cutting bread and butter.
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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Mister Muffin Tucker
That's right.
That's what I like to call myself.
Mister Muffin Tucker.
You can call me Muffin,
When I get to stuffin'.
But don't call me rough...
Before I get deep inside your stuff.
That's right.
That's what I like to call myself.
Mister Muffin Tucker.
You'll be the one huffin' and puffin'
When you find out I'm not bluffin'.
And when I get done...
You just might end up the only one,
I'll muffin tucker for!
And that depends,
On how well you bake and shake your cookies.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Laugh When I Hear That The Fish In The Water Is Thirsty
I laugh when I hear that the fish in the water is thirsty
You don't grasp the fact that what is most alive of all
is inside your own house.
and so you walk from one holy city to the next with
a confused look!
Kabir will tell you the truth: go wherever you like,
to Calcutta or Tibet;
if you can't find where your soul is hidden,
for you the world will never be real!
The King's Breakfast
The King's Breakfast
The King asked
The Queen, and
The Queen asked
The Dairymaid:
"Could we have some butter for
The Royal slice of bread?"
The Queen asked the Dairymaid,
The Dairymaid
Said, "Certainly,
I'll go and tell the cow
Now
Before she goes to bed."
The Dairymaid
She curtsied,
And went and told
The Alderney:
"Don't forget the butter for
The Royal slice of bread."
The Alderney
Said sleepily:
"You'd better tell
His Majesty
That many people nowadays
Like marmalade
Instead."
The Dairymaid
Said, "Fancy!"
And went to
Her Majesty.
She curtsied to the Queen, and
She turned a little red:
"Excuse me,
Your Majesty,
For taking of
The liberty,
But marmalade is tasty, if
It's very
Thickly
Spread."
The Queen said
"Oh!:
And went to
His Majesty:
"Talking of the butter for
The royal slice of bread,
Many people
Think that
Marmalade
Is nicer.
Would you like to try a little
Marmalade
Instead?"
The King said,
"Bother!"
And then he said,
"Oh, deary me!"
The King sobbed, "Oh, deary me!"
And went back to bed.
"Nobody,"
He whimpered,
"Could call me
A fussy man;
I only want
A little bit
Of butter for
My bread!"
The Queen said,
"There, there!"
And went to
The Dairymaid.
The Dairymaid
Said, "There, there!"
And went to the shed.
The cow said,
"There, there!
I didn't really
Mean it;
Here's milk for his porringer,
And butter for his bread."
The Queen took
The butter
And brought it to
His Majesty;
The King said,
"Butter, eh?"
And bounced out of bed.
"Nobody," he said,
As he kissed her
Tenderly,
"Nobody," he said,
As he slid down the banisters,
"Nobody,
My darling,
Could call me
A fussy man -
BUT
I do like a little bit of butter to my bread!"
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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Mother Theresa
Your loving hands
mother the sick, the strangers,
the homeless and the orphans.
You walk through the streets
of Calcutta and Bombay to find
these unfortunates;
hug and embrace them as God's jewels,
give them food, roof
and bed for their head.
You are a servant
ascended to the heavens
to be counted among the real stars.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Bread
Sleeping at night in a plaster board box
Scratching the earth with the nails on my fingers
And the ground pukes up rocks and rocks and more rocks
And when the seeds finally reach the ground
Its all been for nothing
I hear the cries of children at night
I watch their faces grow sallow with hunger
Who draws the line between whats wrong and right
And when I ask my life is for
Its all been for nothing
Save your regrets for the dead, but for the living
Give them love and give them bread
One more hungry mouth to be fed
Remember the living
Give them love, give them bread
Standing in the light of the kitchen screen door
Like some kind of untouchable stuck in calcutta
I almost forget what Im standing here for
And I dont know what to do but I know
I wont leave with nothing
Where are the days when life was carefree
Why must I suffer this, what was my crime
Begging or thievery, which shall it be
Is there no other choice for me
I cant live with nothing
Justice only comes to the dead
And when they ask me what life is for
I must give them something
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Butter
Pull me from the toaster
Straight into the roaster
Fill my head with the stuff
Brightest dreams are made of
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Duh
Promising the big guns
Reward when the light comes
Screaming from the damage done
Screaming from the damage done
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Duh
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up like I know you will
Cover it up like I know you will
Better yourself like I know you will
Breaking the trust like you always will
Be good for it, you never will
Be good for it, you never will
Be good for it, you never will
Be good for it, you never will
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up, butter me up
Duh
So you think you got the best
Thought I was like all the rest
Reaping from the damage done
Reaping from the damage done
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Duh
song performed by by Ultraspank
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beating A Path To Onself
a great sea one can be perpetually lost in
or find oneself moored at its coast
and picking up all the shapely shells - that's the mind
a great sea one can be perpetually seeking self
or found a compass to all the interesting lands
the great sea where one can beat a path
to oneself in poetry
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Love your children with all your hearts, love them enough to discipline them before it is too late. ... Praise them for important things, even if you have to stretch them a bit. Praise them a lot. They live on it like bread and butter and they need it more than bread and butter.
quote by Lavina Christensen Fugal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sexy Ginger Bread Man
On his body is a ginger bread thong
To soften you up he sings a sweet sugar song
If you hit on him he’ll play along
He’s the sexy ginger bread man
He’ll seduce you with candy wine
One a scale from 1-10 he is a 9
Girls look at him and say, “He’s so fine”
He’s the sexy ginger bread man
On his face are peanut butter eyes
He has powdered sugar on his manly thighs
He will reel you in with his seductive lies
He’s the sexy ginger bread man
On this neck is a chain of candy
Around the house he can be handy
If you add frosting he can be pretty randy
He’s the sexy ginger bread man
Out of the batch he is the pick
He has a giant ginger bread stick
It has rainbow sprinkles on it
He’s the sexy ginger bread man
You bite the chain and swallow the thong
Eat the stick which is very long
You gobble him up till he’s all gone
NO MORE sexy ginger bread man
poem by Paul Celano
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To Meet a Stranger
To meet a stranger is an adventure
It might generate untold energy
If antimatter shakes hands with matter
An instance of synergy
Do you know what can happen
The share markets will collapse
Everywhere from Calcutta to Japan
If markets wane and disappear
Like dinosaurs of yester years
Philosophers shall understand
What it is to meet a stranger
poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
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Shifts
you shift from poetry
with regret you must
get into the ramifications
of the law of bread and
butter, you want to kill
time and just lay there,
the law, the law, how
dry can these laws be,
you gaze outside the
window, sighing, looking
to the blue sea and
feeling the breeze salty
to your brain, ahhh, it
is this salt of the earth,
talking. I shift my head
now to these lines,
i live for the moment.
now, back to what i
detest, this bread, this
butter, i too live here.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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