Related quotes: we met tasted grapes of...

East of Eden

we met
tasted grapes of wrath
gathered from the vine
yard

crushed in defiance
the wine was bitter
sweet

served in identical
cups
laughter was heard

east of eden
we found ourselves

poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love On The Vine

I came home yesterday
To the love that I left behind
It seems Ive been far away, yeah
But I know that the berrys ripe on the vine
And I know that the grapes will soon turn to wine
Yes I know Ill be there just in time to love you
I guess I just ran away (I just ran away)
Tried to see what I could not find (what I could not find)
Its been a one act play, yeah
But I know that the berrys ripe on the vine
And I know that the grapes will soon turn to wine
And I know Ill be there just in time to love you
Ive been wasting time (wasting time)
With this old heart of mine (this old heart of mine)
Working it overtime, ah, ah, ah, ah
Just another blue day
Like the ones that I left behind
I know its easy to say, yeah
But I know that the berrys ripe on the vine
And I know that the grapes will soon turn to wine
Yes I know Ill be there just in time to love you
Oh and I know that the berrys ripe on the vine
And I know that the grapes will soon turn to wine
Yes I know Ill be there just in time to love you
Love you on the vine, oh on the vine
Love you on the vine, oh on the vine
I love you on the vine, oh on the vine, ah
On the vine, oh on the vine ...

song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unbroken

Fallen to pieces (I am undone)
The things you said the (manipulation)
I trusted you like a fool while you made all the rules
So you searched me out
And you took me down
-TO BE UNBROKEN, WHAT WOULD THAT BE
IF WORDS THAT WERE SPOKEN HAD NOT SHATTERED ME
IF I WAS UNBROKEN, I'D NEVER KNOW
THE BEAUTY OF HOPE AND HOW FAR GRACE WILL GO
TO BE UNBROKEN, TO BE UNBROKEN-
The things you found (to use against me)
Have lost their sound (where mercy and truth meet)
I fell to the Father's feet, His words washed all over me
And all the scars you made
Watch them fade away
[refrain]
I've tasted bitter, tasted sweet
Embraced the victory and some defeat
I've tasted bitter, tasted sweet
I've found the beauty in the place they meet
[refrain]

song performed by by ZoeGirl
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cups Of Knowledge!

I HAVE TASTED OF THE CUP OF LOBSANG RAMPA'S KNOWLEDGE!
AND I WAS SATISFIED!
I HAVE TASTED OF THE CUP OF CHINUA ACHEBE'S KNOWLEDGE!
AND I WAS SATISFIED!
I HAVE TASTED OF THE CUPS OF WOLE SOYINKA'S KNOWLEDGE!
AND THE SOY-INKER'S KNOWLEDGE GAVE ME SATISFACTION!
OF THE CUPS OF AGATHA CHRISTIE'S KNOWLEDGE, I HAVE ALSO DRANK!
AND I AM REFRESHED AND SATISFIED!
OF THE CUPS OF CYPRIAN EKWENSI'S KNOWLEDGE I HAVE ALSO TASTED!
INDEED, I WAS SATISFIED!
I HAVE TASTED OF THE TALE TELLING KNOWLEDGES OF JAMES HARDLEY CHASE!
AND, I AM PLEASED!
DRINK OF THIS CUPS AND KNOW WISDOM! KNOWLEDGE! AND UNDERSTANDING!
AS I HAVE KNOWN ALSO!
THE KNOWLEDGE RUSH OF THE CUPS OF OVERLORD DON MANUEL IHCAKEYNO IS A MIGHTY OCEAN!
DRINK UNTO INFINITY!

poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To-Em-Meps ‘The Unmoving Cloud

I
The clouds have gathered, and gathered,
and the rain falls and falls,
The eight ply of the heavens
are all folded into one darkness,
And the wide, flat road stretches out.
I stop in my room toward the East, quiet, quiet,
I pat my new cask of wine.
My friends are estranged, or far distant,
I bow my head and stand still.

II
Rain, rain, and the clouds have gathered,
The eight ply of the heavens are darkness,
The flat land is turned into river.
'Wine, wine, here is wine!'
I drink by my eastern window.
I think of talking and man,
And no boat, no carriage, approaches.

III
The trees in my east-looking garden
are bursting out with new twigs,
They try to stir new affection,
And men say the sun and moon keep on moving
because they can't find a soft seat.
The birds flutter to rest in my tree,
and I think I have heard them saying,
'It is not that there are no other men
But we like this fellow the best,
But however we long to speak
He can not know of our sorrow.'

poem by Ezra Pound
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Sonnet: Jesus, the Grape-Vine

“I am the Vine: You be its branch always.”
Jesus is succor and our nourishment;
Allow the sap to flow to bless your days;
There will be no defeat or punishment.

’Tis easy being branch with leaves and fruits;
We help the vine to grow luxuriously;
The starch that’s made makes sturdy trunk and roots;
The wine from grapes will soothe hearts curiously.

A broken branch will lose its life quite soon;
A leafless one is useless to the vine;
A fruitless one is bane and not a boon;
With God, we make our earthly days divine.

The vine is proud to make the best of wine;
With God’s will done, man’s soul looks rather fine!

poem by John Celes
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The Wine Of Love

We take a sip of the wine
that runs through our lives.
The wine of love most purest
that comes from the tenderest grapes
upon the vine.
We sip a little each day
praying it will never go away.
The wine of love
that runs through our lives each day.
Providing the vine doesn’t whither
our love will become fulfilled
with love forever after
our cup is empty and bare.

19 March 2008

poem by David Harris
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In Vino Verities

Think of it as a thirst for Truth
That can’t be quenched by dry Vermouth.
Those souls who in the bottle find
a sauce of solace for troubled minds.

Because I can conceive of wine,
Somewhere there grows a fruitful vine.
Existence made certain by concept possible-
an essential premise Ontological.

From the grapes sweet nectar flows
To please the palate and charm the nose.
Its mysteries bring blurred speech and vision
At bottle’s bottom they find religion...

Some seek their Truth on distant peaks
From Fakirs dressed in linen sheets.
Some in bare ruined choirs dwell
With thoughts of Heaven spiced with Hell.

Still others have declared wine evil
An attitude I find Medieval
Their wine grapes meet a sadder fate
reduced to raisins on a plate.

From Vine to press, from field to glass
A boon companion to Life’s repast.
Red or White, no cause for Schism
A sommelier hears your catechism.

poem by John F. McCullagh
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In the hearts and minds of the people, the grapes of wrath were growing heavy for the vintage.

John Steinbeck in The Grapes of Wrath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wine Story

An Abridged Story of Wine
The bottom of the nave used to be a lake's bed, but one night,
when moon was white as search light and the sky maroon,
the lake vanished. Dead fish and toenail clippings at the bottom,
but the soil was rich, and the people who used to fish for a living,
planted vine which bore healthy grapes, but grapes fermented
and wine was discovered. A drink that made them merry, they
sang, slapped flat stones together and made music.
But if drinking too much they ended fighting and used stones as
missiles, and given to arguing about the quality of snow that fell
the year before. In clay pots they sold red wine and became rich,
till Moslems came, forbad the making of wine, they planted pale
yellow orange trees instead. But the juice of sweet blue grapes
has an unstoppable allure it fills heart with music, the production
was moved to hidden dells in Alentejo. When Arabs, defeated by
Christian hordes, fled; Iberia had abundance of red wine but also
sugary orange juice.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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I Licked The Wine

I licked the wine I licked sweet wine.
I licked chill wine off inflamed face.
I never left lingering incriminating;
any sticky dew rose red untasted trace.

I licked the wine; I licked full-blooded rose red wine.
I licked dew wine off dawn bud tender trembling lips.
I licked love undulating curves beneath vibrato hips;
in a song of time we dance summer ripe passions of vine.

I licked the wine; I licked sweet wine in memorial to time.
I licked chill wine off cherry sweet ripe youths luscious tits.
I licked while she swallowed tongue probing penetrating tips;
in love shines rebirth bright in festive season of harvest vine.

I licked the wine; I licked full-blooded rose red wine.
I licked while she screamed song orgasmic liquid joy.
I licked while white hot mouth savoured; new found wondrous toy;
in love we enshrine immortality posterity born in wedded love rhyme.

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Encounter

Those who have touched it or been touched by it
Or brushed by something that the vine has brushed,
Or burning it, have stood where the sly smoke
Has touched them-Know the meaning of its name.

The leaf is smooth. Its green is innocence.
A clean, unblemished leaf, glossy when young.
A leaf the unobserving might overlook
And the observing find too prosperous.

I've seen a vine of it so old and crooked
It held a hen-coop in its grip, the stalk
Thick as a man's wrist. There it had grown,
Half out of sight, permitted, undisturbed.

Strangers to it, who on a autumn road
Have found a vine that swept a tree like fire
And gathered it barehanded and brought it home
For color, seldom gathered it again.

Some are immune and some have thought they were
And some, ever so cautiously with gloves,
Finding that it grew to near their homes,
Have tried to root it out and have succeeded

Except that something from the vine fastened
Upon their flesh and burned, and in a year
Or two the vine itself was there again,
Glossy and green and smooth and innocent.

My neighbor's cow grazing beside the road
Munches with joy (and almost with a smile)
The salad of its leaves, transmuting them
Into sweet milk that I will drink tomorrow.

poem by Robert Francis
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Vintage Purpose

Oh God, to worship Thee with praise;
I, but a mere grape from hallowed vine;
May your gift of poetry, flow through me as Christian;
Likened to a sweet vintage wedding wine?
Alas, but for a season amidst the cluster,
Amongst clusters of sweet notes raised;
Lyric this hour of sunshine luster;
A cup of blood crushed, to God's glory be praised!

poem by Gary Bitson
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Diamonds In The Mine

The woman in blue, shes asking for revenge,
Man in white -- thats you -- says he has no friends.
The river is swollen up with rusty cans
And the trees are burning in your promised land.
And there are no letters in the mailbox,
And there are no grapes upon the vine,
And there are no chocolates in the boxes anymore,
And there are no diamonds in the mine.
Well, you tell me that your lover has a broken limb,
You say youre kind of restless now and its on account of him.
Well, I saw the man in question, it was just the other night,
He was eating up a lady where the lions and christians fight.
And there are no letters in the mailbox
And there are no grapes upon the vine,
And there are no chocolates in the boxes anymore,
And there are no diamonds in the mine.
(you tell them now)
Ah, there is no comfort in the covens of the witch,
Some very clever doctor went and sterilized the bitch,
And the only man of energy, yes the revolutions pride,
He trained a hundred women just to kill an unborn child.
And there are no letters in the mailbox,
Oh no, there are no, no grapes upon your vine,
And there are, there are no chocolates in your boxes anymore,
And there are no diamonds in your mine,
And there are no letters in the mailbox,
And there are no grapes upon the vine,
And there are no chocolates in your boxes anymore,
And there are no diamonds in your mine.

song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Buzz Buzz Buzz

(wha-ooh, wha-ooh, wha-ooh, wha-ooh)
Well buzz buzz buzz goes the bumble bee
A twiddledeedledee goes a bird
But the sound of your little voice, darling,
Its the sweetest sound Ive ever heard.
Well, Ive seen the beauty of the red, red rose,
Seen the beauty when the skies are blue,
Seen the beauty of the evening sunset- but the beauty of you!
Sweet is the honey from the honeycomb,
Sweet are the grapes of a vine,
But theres nothing as sweet as you, darling,
And I hope some day youll be mine!

song performed by by Huey Lewis And The News
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Red, Sparkling Wine

I Have Seen A Sight
Of a Man Falling Down …
… it wasn’t for a Fight
… but it was due to what He’d Found …

… Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… She Should Be A Crime …
Red Sparkling Wine…

She Starts out – Flowing – Smooth
Gets in Your Blood – Then You got Somethin’ to Prove!
You Chase Her Intoxicating Perfume
… must be Brand X … or Lady-Doom …

… Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… Feeling So Sublime …
Red Sparkling Wine…

… Sweet from the Vine, but She ain’t Vintage
Make You Loose Your Mind and Your Hard-Earned Wages
Her Cheap-Thrills… can’t Heal a Heart, that’s Bruised …
You ain’t in Love! … just in a Bottle of Booze …

of Red Sparkling Wine… Once in awhile is Fine
Red Sparkling Wine… Know the Warning Signs ….
of Red Sparkling Wine…

She’s Beautiful, as She Pours
Your Problems – Passed-Out, on The Floor
She’s Crystal-Blood in an Hour-Glass
Her Pity-Promises… just don’t Last…

Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… She’ll have You begging for Dimes …
… to buy … Red Sparkling Wine…

She’ll leave You Broke, You won’t be able to Think
She’s ‘Madam Dope’ … if You Need One More Drink
… of Red Sparkling Wine… Just a Matter of Time
Red Sparkling Wine… Have Another… ‘ Cause I’m …
… Red Sparkling Wine …

poem by MoonBee Canady
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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(Love Poem) Bitter Sweet Rose

Bitter sweet rose will you be mine?
Or am I wasting my time?
Bitter sweet rose you smell divine.
Do you have a succulent kiss?
Is it something I've already missed?

Bitter sweet rose what gives?
Is it how we must live?
Bitter sweet rose will you answer my questions?
Are you devote?
Do you stray when your bored?
Will you doubt?
Is what you want something more?

Bitter sweet rose are you keeping score?
Will you try something new?
Will you lock your door?
Do your lips taste like dew?
Bitter sweet rose do you want to go?
Do you love the snow?
Is this right?
Is this what you want tonight?
Bitter sweet rose, oh my bitter rose.

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The Stranger

The Stranger within my gate,
He may be true or kind,
But he does not talk my talk--
I cannot feel his mind.
I see the face and the eyes and the mouth,
But not the soul behind.

The men of my own stock,
They may do ill or well,
But they tell the lies I am wanted to,
They are used to the lies I tell;
And we do not need interpreters
When we go to buy or sell.

The Stranger within my gates,
He may be evil or good,
But I cannot tell what powers control--
What reasons sway his mood;
Nor when the Gods of his far-off land
Shall repossess his blood.

The men of my own stock,
Bitter bad they may be,
But, at least, they hear the things I hear,
And see the things I see;
And whatever I think of them and their likes
They think of the likes of me.

This was my father's belief
And this is also mine:
Let the corn be all one sheaf--
And the grapes be all one vine,
Ere our children's teeth are set on edge
By bitter bread and wine.

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Psalm 75

There is a cup
And the wine is red
And the grapes are crushed in wrath to fill it up
And with blood dipped robes
And armies by His side
He has come to pour the contents of the cup

I will choose the proper time
I will pour down fire on earth
I will judge the wicked and exalt My remnant bride
For the boastful are brought low
And the wicked are cut off
And the armies of the Lord march side by side

So have faith my little ones
The pillars stand secure
I am coming in my glory in the sky
The foundations are not destroyed
And my love it has no end
I will come to reign forever from on high

poem by Frank McEleny
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Rhine Wine

our best times
are a fine wine
the mature wine

soil carefully tilled
years of planting
cultivating the vine

years of planting
growing pruning
fertilizing harvesting

harvest grapes
harvested aged
to be full drunk

by the firelight
in the evening
of our solitude