A Primer of the Daily Round
A peels an apple, while B kneels to God,
C telephones to D, who has a hand
On E’s knee, F coughs, G turns up the sod
For H’s grave, I do not understand
But J is bringing one clay pigeon down
While K brings down a nightstick on L’s head,
And M takes mustard, N drives to town,
O goes to bed with P, and Q drops dead,
R lies to S, but happens to be heard
By T, who tells U not to fire V
For having to give W the word
That X is now deceiving Y with Z,
Who happens, just now to remember A
Peeling an apple somewhere far away.
poem by Howard Nemerov
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Red Apple, Red Apple
Red apple
Red apple
sitting on the ledge
savouring its nutrients
for a few moments longer
Red apple
Red apple
Savouring its time
That is has left
As a whole
Red apple
Red apple
Traveled such a
Long way, from the store?
Farm? another country?
Red apple
Red apple
Haunting me by
The curiosity of
How juicy you taste
Red apple
Red apple
Shine on,
Red apple
poem by John McAdam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Set Free
I remember once when your soul was clean
And also the time when that apple was green
The apple it grew from the tree upon its limb
And we matured from children, and grew into women and men
What happened to us then, was truly unforeseen.
I remember that apple, and it I would not pick
Though it was not deliberate or had it been a trick
So it grew all alone and then on the limb it rotted
From age and negligence it was also spotted
Now that apple disagreed with my body's politic.
I read and then I heard stories all about you
Sadly none were lies as they all were on the venue
We had been used and cheated as your soul had waited
Seems that was the purpose, that you were created
Never would I want to act or to become like you.
I read in the news that you had died
My reaction to that news I could not hide
As I remembered that rotten apple falling from the tree
Then it hit the ground, its essence was set free
So for you or the apple, I had not cried.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lovers' Delights
we only have one apple
i am holding it in my hand
i take a bite and
you follow
we take turns
we like the crunchy sound
the sweetness of
the crunchy apple
until the apple is consume
we hold each other's hands
we look at each other's eyes
we feast.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Don't Sit Under The Apple Tree
Don't sit under the apple tree
With anyone else but me
Anyone else but me
Anyone else but me
No no no
Don't sit under the apple tree
With anyone else but me
'til I come marching home
Don't go walking down lovers lane
With anyone else but me
Anyone else but me
Anyone else but me
No no no
Don't go walking down lovers lane
With anyone else but me
'til I come marching home
I just got word from a guy who heard
From the guy next door to me
The girl he met just loved to pet
And fits you to a "T"
So don't sit under the apple tree
With anyone else but me
'til I come marching home
Don't give out with those lips of yours
To anyone else but me
Anyone else but me
Anyone else but me
No no no
Watch the girls on the foreign shores
You'll have to report to me
When you come marching home
You're on your own
When there is no phone and I can't keep tab on you
Be fair to me I'll garuantee
This is one thing that I'll do
I won't sit under the apple tree
With anyone else but you
'til you come marching home
Don't sit under the apple tree
With anyone else but me
I know the apple tree
Is reserved for you and me
And I'll be true
'til you come marching home
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Woman Is Fire
There was a time when Woman went out of house, house of wax was left by Woman, Woman with waxen complexion I was, I was fiery Woman, Woman's body was a wax, Woman's eyes a flammable paraffin, what Woman's mouth was: withered red apples when Woman was fired out of house. House was invisible when Woman took a fire lamp and went to cheer in the smell of fallen apples, scattered around house, our moldy house. In the cold night Woman molded her body in a candle mould to revive old fire and saw Man that gathered apple stalks from moldy apple trees. It was a lonely man, Man that made a fire with waxed paper and moldering apple stalks. Man that sat outdoors on a moldy wooden bench by that fire and drunk applejack.
Woman saw Man, Man that felt Woman's looks through apple shaped embers bursting out of fire when wet apple leaves dried. Fire was a necessity for Man, for Man made his living being a fire-eater. The fire-eater wanted fire that gives birth, of fireworks, exploding fire. Man moved a long green apple stalk through fire to burn fire more. Man took a dropp and swallowed it. Man took another dropp and spat it into the fire. Suddenly Man realized what he needed and waxed on a piece of paper: fire must drink applejack for fire is becoming moldy, and he spat what he drunk mingled with apple-tasting spit. House is moldy too, Woman remembered and woman's heart became a rotten apple.. Fire was quenching as Woman closed her eyelids, apple peels, longing for house. House may be moldy, but house is not empty. Woman molded house the like, house full of candle lights and fireflies. Woman left Man's fire quenched and remained an apple scented candle. House melts easily and hardens quickly, Woman too. Woman abandoned Man not to be melt. That is old fire in Woman, as she stalks on apple waxed earth toward house.
poem by Afrodita Nikolova
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Pibroch
There's a light in the house in the wood in the valley.
There's a thought in the head of the man.
Who carries his dreams like the coat slung on his shoulder,
Bringing you love in the cap in his hand.
And each step he takes is one half of a lifetime:
No word he would say could you understand.
So he bundles his regrets into a gesture of sorrow,
Bringing you love cap in hand.
Catching breath as he looks through the dining-room window:
Candle lit table for two has been laid.
Strange slippers by the fire.
Strange boots in the hallway.
Put my cap on my head.
I turn and walk away.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mr. John Glenn
There once was an apple
That had fallen from a tree
I picked it up, and it was stuck
To my hand, I could'nt get free
So I shook and shook and shook
Until my hand was sore
But from deep inside, I heard a cry
Way inside the core
I ask myself what could it be
A snake or even a worm
Can it breathe or even sneeze
Should I be concerned
But then I heard a voice within
And now I'm really baffled
I'll ask my teacher if there's a creature
Inside this nice red apple
And if she says no, there's no such thing
Why are you asking me this
Cause if I don't ask, this too shall not pass
And i'll be taking a risk
The teacher says, now don't be silly
There's nothing inside this fruit
Now don't be a clown, just go put it down
And join the rest of the group
Then she stood up and held up the apple
And said, class this is my friend
I was a little concerned about bringing a worm
Whom I call, Mr. John Glenn
But teacher you said to never ever lie
Not even a little or a lot
Well if he gets loose, you'll see it's the truth
A creature John Glenn is not
poem by Kevin Seales
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One White Duck
There's a light in the house, in the wood in the valley.
There's a thought in the head, of the man.
Who carries his dreams, like the coat slung on his shoulder,
Bringing you love, in the cap in his hand.
And each step he takes, is one half of a life-time:
No word he would say, could you understand.
So he bundles his regrets, into a gesture of sorrow,
Bringing you love, cap in hand.
Catching breath, as he looks through the dining-room window:
Candle-lit table, for two has been laid.
Strange slippers by the fire:
Strange boots in the hall-way.
Put my cap on my head - I turn, and walk away.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Apple Of My Eye
Oh sweet love, thou were the apple of my eye
and now I'm left with why?
All the whys that no answers can bring
are all the ones that ring
inside my brain that cannot understand
why you're not here holding my hand.
Why some have so many years together
and ours were not enough.
Why some seem to stoically accept
and for me it is so tough.
I know what they say. Time wii heal
whatever comes our way.
But for me my love, it can't happen.
I need eternity and a day.
Oh sweet love, always the apple of my eye
they cannot tell me why.
For all the answersthat they give
all seem, ike a lie.
Until my eyes can no longer see
what was to me so sweet,
I cannot ever look at life again
for the whys continue to eat
at my apple.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Yvonne of Brittany
In your mother's apple-orchard,
Just a year ago, last spring:
Do you remember, Yvonne!
The dear trees lavishing
Rain of their starry blossoms
To make you a coronet?
Do you ever remember, Yvonne,
As I remember yet?
In your mother's apple-orchard,
When the world was left behind:
You were shy, so shy, Yvonne!
But your eyes were calm and kind.
We spoke of the apple harvest,
When the cider press is set,
And such-like trifles, Yvonne,
That doubtless you forget.
In the still, soft Breton twilight,
We were silent; words were few,
Till your mother came out chiding,
For the grass was bright with dew:
But I know your heart was beating,
Like a fluttered, frightened dove.
Do you ever remember, Yvonne,
That first faint flush of love?
In the fulness of midsummer,
When the apple-bloom was shed,
Oh, brave was your surrender,
Though shy the words you said.
I was glad, so glad, Yvonne!
To have led you home at last;
Do you ever remember, Yvonne,
How swiftly the days passed?
In your mother's apple-orchard
It is grown too dark to stray,
There is none to chide you, Yvonne!
You are over far away.
There is dew on your grave grass, Yvonne!
But your feet it shall not wet:
No, you never remember, Yvonne!
And I shall soon forget.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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Apple Scruffs
Now Ive watched you sitting there
Seen the passers-by all stare
Like you have no place to go
But theres so much they dont know about apple scruffs
Youve been stood around for years
Seen my smiles and touched my tears
How its been a long, long time
And how youve been on my mind, my apple scruffs
Apple scruffs, apple scruffs
How I love you, how I love you
In the fog and in the rain
Through the pleasures and the pain
On the step outside you stand
With your flowers in your hand, my apple scruffs
While the years they come and go
Now, your love must surely show me
That beyond all time and space
Were together face to face, my apple scruffs
Apple scruffs, apple scruffs
How I love you, how I love you
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Four Angels
As Adam lay a-dreaming beneath the Apple Tree
The Angel of the Earth came down, and offered Earth in fee;
But Adam did not need it,
Nor the plough he would not speed it,
Singing: --"Earth and Water, Air and Fire,
What more can mortal man desire?"
(The Apple Tree's in bud)
As Adam lay a-dreaming beneath the Apple Tree
The Angel of the Waters offered all the Seas in fee;
But Adam would not take 'em,
Nor the ships he wouldn't make 'em,
Singing:--"Water, Earth and Air and Fire,
What more can mortal man desire? "
(The Apple Tree's in leaf.)
As Adam lay a-dreaming beneath the Apple Tree
The Angel of the Air he offered all the Air in fee;
But Adam did not crave it,
Nor the flight he wouldn't brave it,
Singing: --"Air and Water, Earth and Fire,
What more can mortal man desire:"
(The Apple Tree's in bloom.)
As Adam lay a-dreaming beneath the Apple Tree
The Angel of the Fire rose up and not a word said he;
But he wished a flame and made it,
And in Adam's heart he laid it,
Singing: --"Fire, Fire, burning Fire!
Stand up, and reach your heart's desire!"
(The Apple Blossom's set.)
As Adam was a-working outside of Eden-Wall,
He used the Earth, he used the Seas, he used the Air and all;
Till out of black disaster
He arose to be a master
Of Earth and Water, Air and Fire,
But never reached his heart's desire!
(The Apple Tree's cut down!)
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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GS [or the Fourth Cook]
He has notions of Australia from the tales that he’s been told—
Land of leggings and revolvers, land of savages and gold;
So he begs old shirts, and someone patches up his worn-out duds.
He is shipped as ‘general servant,’ scrubbing pots and peeling spuds
(In the steamer’s grimy alley, hating man and peeling spuds).
There is little time to comfort, there is little time to cry—
He will come back with a fortune—‘We’ll be happy by-and-by!’
Scarcely time to kiss his sweetheart, barely time to change his duds,
Ere they want him at the galley, and they set him peeling spuds
(With a butcher’s knife, a bucket, and, say, half a ton of spuds).
And he peels ’em hard to Plymouth, peels ’em fast to drown his grief,
Peels ’em while his stomach sickens on the road to Teneriffe;
Peels ’em while the donkey rattles, peels ’em while the engine thuds,
By the time they touch at Cape Town he’s a don at peeling spuds
(And he finds some time for dreaming as he gets on with the spuds).
In the steamer’s slushy alley, where the souls of men are dead,
And the adjectives are crimson if the substances are red,
He’s perhaps a college black-sheep, and, maybe, of ancient blood—
Ah! his devil grips him sometimes as he reaches for a spud
(And he jerks his head and sadly gouges dry-rot from a spud).
And his brave heart hopes and sickens as the weary days go round;
There is lots o’ time for blue-lights ere they reach King George’s Sound.
But he gets his best suit ready—two white shirts and three bone studs!
He will face the new world bravely when he’s finished with the spuds
(And next week, perhaps, he’ll gladly take a job at peeling spuds).
There were heroes in Australia went exploring long ago;
There are heroes in Australia that the world shall never know;
And the men we use for heroes in the land of droughts and floods
Often win their way to Sydney scrubbing pots and peeling spuds
(Plucky beggars! brave, poor devils! gouging dry-rot from their spuds).
poem by Henry Lawson
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Troy Town
HEAVENBORN Helen, Sparta's queen,
(O Troy Town!)
Had two breasts of heavenly sheen,
The sun and moon of the heart's desire:
All Love's lordship lay between.
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
Helen knelt at Venus' shrine,
(O Troy Town!)
Saying, “A little gift is mine,
A little gift for a heart's desire.
Hear me speak and make me a sign!
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
“Look, I bring thee a carven cup;
(O Troy Town!)
See it here as I hold it up,—
Shaped it is to the heart's desire,
Fit to fill when the gods would sup.
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
“It was moulded like my breast;
(O Troy Town!)
He that sees it may not rest,
Rest at all for his heart's desire.
O give ear to my heart's behest!
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
“See my breast, how like it is;
(O Troy Town!)
See it bare for the air to kiss!
Is the cup to thy heart's desire?
O for the breast, O make it his!
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
“Yea, for my bosom here I sue;
(O Troy Town!)
Thou must give it where 'tis due,
Give it there to the heart's desire.
Whom do I give my bosom to?
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
“Each twin breast is an apple sweet.
(O Troy Town!)
Once an apple stirred the beat
Of thy heart with the heart's desire:—
Say, who brought it then to thy feet?
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
“They that claimed it then were three:
(O Troy Town!)
For thy sake two hearts did he
Make forlorn of the heart's desire.
Do for him as he did for thee!
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
“Mine are apples grown to the south,
(O Troy Town!)
Grown to taste in the days of drouth,
Taste and waste to the heart's desire:
Mine are apples meet for his mouth.”
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
Venus looked on Helen's gift,
(O Troy Town!)
Looked and smiled with subtle drift,
Saw the work of her heart's desire:—
“There thou kneel'st for Love to lift!”
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
Venus looked in Helen's face,
(O Troy Town!)
Knew far off an hour and place,
And fire lit from the heart's desire;
Laughed and said, “Thy gift hath grace!”
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
Cupid looked on Helen's breast,
(O Troy Town!)
Saw the heart within its nest,
Saw the flame of the heart's desire,—
Marked his arrow's burning crest.
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
Cupid took another dart,
(O Troy Town!)
Fledged it for another heart,
Winged the shaft with the heart's desire,
Drew the string and said, “Depart!”
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
Paris turned upon his bed,
(O Troy Town!)
Turned upon his bed and said,
Dead at heart with the heart's desire—
“Oh to clasp her golden head!”
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Apple
red shiny apple
in your
throat, do you still breathe inside your heart?
red shiny apple
between my legs these friends of my thighs
i am a tree and you are that woman
craving for the red shiny apple
in my garden
i do not claim innocence for my wanton actions
before the snake and
my God
i will say i will always love you
bend over me woman and i will lay open my mouth
fill it with your tongue
pour in the drops of apple juice
to my cracking lips
water my garden and fill it with flowers from your hair
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Unlucky Apple
'Twas the apple that in Eden
Caused our father's primal fall;
And the Trojan War, remember --
'Twas an apple caused it all.
So for weeks I've hesitated,
You can guess the reason why,
For I want to tell my darling
She's the apple of my eye.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Appletree
Appletree
I'm sittin' on my window sill and looking
through the pain you broke my heart
Oh mamma no you cannot teach me a different soul
I won't believe in your God of course I see this clouds
above but that's not God, that's not the Lord
and the smoke of my cigarette got into my eyes and now
I'm feel like I'm gonna cry
and all you guys laugh at me but I don't feel like
I am just a child, just a child
and I don't give a damm
yes I don't give a damm
I don't give a damm
and break my apple in two pieces or three
imagine the world is just an apple tree and live your life
and be careful 'cause harvest time is your death don't fall
and I don't give a damm
yes I don't give a damm
I don't give a damm
you're laughin' but you wanna cry your coolness hey,
is just a lie you're venerable too it's the price you
have to pay look in the mirror before you try to fly you have
no wings come on be reasonable guy don't try
and I don't give a damm
yes I don't give a damm
I don't give a damm
Break my apple in two pieces or three
imagine the world is just an apple tree and live your life
and be careful 'cause harvest time is your death don't fall
and I don't give a damm
yes I don't give a damm
I don't give a damm
your blood is runnin' through my head then my temples then my
bed drowsy eyes and big composure your cut throat spits a
clear red tincture full of love and full of greed I cannot
sleep I cannot sleep
and I don't give a damm
yes I don't give a damm
I don't give a damm
Break my apple in two pieces or three
imagine the world is
song performed by by Wonderwall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Apple Seed
Spring is here
love it so dear.
Being an apple seed,
and doing my good deed.
Keeping the doctor away,
for many years this tree will stay.
Just waiting for picking time
and watching workers as they climb.
Seed to apple so sweet
working so hard what a feat.
Apple cider to apple pie,
selling apples for people to buy.
Being an apple seed
and doing my good deed.
Being picked off this tree
from this place I will flee.
wrote 4-30-07
Apple in a tree
Love is hard i see
Like an apple in a tree
Not ready to be picked
It may make you sick
Sometimes we have to let it be
Time can be the key
Let it ripen
Just wait and see
Let it soften
Before you get on your knee
Take your time
Just move with ease
Like an apple in a tree
Some are rotten
Just let them be
Some are red
Wait for the right word to be said
Some are green
Sometimes they can be mean
Some are yellow
Just try to stay mellow
I know you feel like jello
When you find the right one
So juicy and sweet
Then love becomes a treat
And this my friend is pretty neat
poem by Joseph Whelan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Great Hate Comes From Great Love
Everyone kneels as you walk into the room,
It seems as if you’re made of gloom.
Mist for body, shadows for clothes,
Who you are everybody knows.
I kneel with the crowd, to my dismay,
I hate kneeling but I must obey.
You smile like a gracious host,
But you’re really just a dark ghost.
You signal us to rise and for that I’m thankful,
I hate feeling like I’m your fool.
You come to me and shake my hand,
“‘We’re all friends here’, understand? ”
“No, we’re enemies”, replies me,
You are an ugly creature, don’t you see?
The ghostly king takes my hand,
And leads me outside to a stand.
He turns me to him, I feel horrified,
But with a troubled look he only sighed.
“My dear subject, why do you hate me so?
I’ve never harmed you, yet I’m your foe”
I feel nonplussed, why is he acting kind?
Why isn’t the monster blowing my mind?
I’m in astonishment as I’m swept off my feet,
He’s picked me up; does that mean I’m beat?
The ghost walks me through his garden at midnight,
I see jasmines and roses and lilies, what a sight!
I forget the position, of which we stand,
For I’m safe inside this monster’s hands.
At last he puts me down and smiles at me
And a monster is no longer what I see.
I can see the kindness within his eyes,
I can see that all I believed were lies.
“Looks are deceiving” he says with a smile,
Well, he sure made this time worth my while!
Looks aren’t deceiving, for I can see he is beautiful,
It shines in his smile and I can see I was a fool.
I look down and I’m also a ghost,
No longer set in the way of most.
I take my merry monster’s hand and we go back inside,
The kindness in my friend’s eyes is now where I reside.
poem by Lenore Lee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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