Explorations: XXVI
I stand
At your door-step
With an empty bowl
I can't ask you
Why I'm made
To stand there
I can't ask you
Why my bowl
Is empty;
The bowl
The emptiness
And I
Are all your design
Are your creation!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Related quotes
Away The Bowl
Our grateful hearts with temperance burn,
Away, away the bowl,
From dram shops all, our steps we turn,
Away, away the bowl;
Farewell to rum and all its harms,
Farewell the wine-cup's boasted charms,
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
See how that staggering drunkard reels!
Away, away the bowl;
Alas, the misery he reveals,
Away, away the bowl;
His children grieve, his wife's in tears!
How sad his once bright home appears!
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
We drink no more, nor buy nor sell,
Away, away the bowl!
The grog-shop's offers we repel,
Away, away the bowl.
United in a temperance band,
We 're joined in heart, we 're joined in hand,
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
poem by John Pierpont
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The Voice The Snake
(curly m.c./f.gregorian)
.
The first bowl on the earth
The second bowl on the sea
The third bowl on the rivers
The fourth bowl on the sun
The fifth bowl on the beast
The sixth bowl on the stars
The seventh bowl on the air
.
And the earth turned grey
Sea turned black
The rivers turned red
The sun turned cold
The beast turned pale
The stars turned fast
The air turned to poison
song performed by by Enigma
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Voice & The Snake
(curly m.c./f.gregorian)
.
The first bowl on the earth
The second bowl on the sea
The third bowl on the rivers
The fourth bowl on the sun
The fifth bowl on the beast
The sixth bowl on the stars
The seventh bowl on the air
.
And the earth turned grey
Sea turned black
The rivers turned red
The sun turned cold
The beast turned pale
The stars turned fast
The air turned to poison
song performed by by Enigma
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Three Men of Gotham
SEAMEN three! What men be ye?
Gotham's three wise men we be.
Whither in your bowl so free?
To rake the moon from out the sea.
The bowl goes trim. The moon doth shine.
And our ballast is old wine.--
And your ballast is old wine.
Who art thou, so fast adrift?
I am he they call Old Care.
Here on board we will thee lift.
No: I may not enter there.
Wherefore so? 'Tis Jove's decree,
In a bowl Care may not be.--
In a bowl Care may not be.
Fear ye not the waves that roll?
No: in charmed bowl we swim.
What the charm that floats the bowl?
Water may not pass the brim.
The bowl goes trim. The moon doth shine.
And our ballast is old wine.--
And your ballast is old wine.
poem by Thomas Love Peacock
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Seamen Three
Seamen three! What men be ye?
Gotham's three wise men we be.
Whither in your bowl so free?
To rake the moon from out the sea.
The bowl goes trim. The moon doth shine.
And our ballast is old wine;
And your ballast is old wine.
Who art thou, so fast adrift?
I am he they call Old Care.
Here on board we will thee lift.
No: I may not enter there.
Wherefore so? 'Tis Jove's decree,
In a bowl Care may not be;
In a bowl Care may not be.
Fear ye not the waves that roll?
No: in charmed bowl we swim.
What the charm that floats the bowl?
Water may not pass the brim.
The bowl goes trim. The moon doth shine.
And our ballast is old wine;
And your ballast is old wine.
poem by Thomas Love Peacock
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The Bowl...
yes, this is a case
of a candle burning itself
on both sides
and below it
on two heads of fire
is a bowl full of
water
shaping what could
be the
truth
when the final shape
is taken
as usual
we go back
to that empty bowl
but less
the candle
the melted one
shedding off
lights
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Want A Little Sugar In My Bowl
Nina simone
I want a little sugar
In my bowl
I want a little sweetness
Down in my soul
I could stand some lovin
Oh so bad
Feel so lonely and I feel so sad
I want a little steam
On my clothes
Maybe I could fix things up
So theyll go
Whatsa matter daddy
Come on, save my soul
Drop a little sugar in my bowl
I aint foolin
Drop a little sugar in my bowl
Well I want a little sugar
In my bowl
Well I want a little sweetness
Down in my soul
You been acting strangely
Ive been told
Move me daddy
I want some sugar in my bowl
I want a little steam
On my clothes
Maybe I can fix things up so theyll go
Whatsa matter daddy
Come on save my soul
Drop a little sugar in my bowl
I aint foolin
Drop some sugar- yeah- in my bowl.
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Disciplined
like a disciplined cat
he sits on the chair
on a motionless scale
staring at an empty
breakfast table
an empty cup
an empty bowl
on those empty hours
she expects him to say
meow
but he didn't
in an hour he left and
tells the wind about it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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That Porcelain Bowl
my heart delights
to see an empty porcelain bowl
on the table
i wish i'd be one
empty and can still be filled
someday you may fill me
again
like a fish
soup.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Patches The Great
BEHOLD
AND BOW!
The greatness
of her majesty
Patches The Cat
She has terrorized couches
only to sharpen her claws
and conquered basements
when her litter box
was over populated
All have fell
under the charm
of her soft white fur
No one can resist the
enticing feel
And in the event
one should resist
a roaring demand
she will squeal
O Patches!
How you rule this kingdom
through your hedonism
You never lift a paw
You give command
by just laying around
Your bowl
should never be empty
and always be filled
with the best flavors in town
But if you should find
your bowl to be empty
(a tragic event)
O! The wrath
on our dinner plates
you will bestow
I am not her master
you see
I am her humble servant
O how I take pride
in the service
of serving
Patches The Great
poem by Justin Tallman Gonzalez
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Cameron
Cameron the cat would never miss a trick –
Often in the garden on patrol.
Otherwise sleeping, though frequently meeting
His one and only love – that earthen bowl!
Cameron the cat took everything for granted -
Sure, the street lay under his control.
Contentedly snoozing – perhaps he 'd been boozing –
And toasting all that counts: his dearest bowl!
Cameron the cat would seek to take advantage –
His gullible owners often on parole.
Purring pathetically, and almost poetically,
He'd meow them into stacking up his bowl!
Cameron the cat was nonetheless a gem –
His owners saw him as their heart and soul,
But having to accept that he was so adept
At persuading them to fill his flipping bowl!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat
cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat
cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat
cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Three Wise Men of Gotham
Three wise men of Gotham,
They went to sea in a bowl,
And if the bowl had been stronger,
My song had been longer.
poem by Anonymous English
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Life is just a bowl
Of cherries, truth is millions
Just have a dust bowl
haiku by Ken e Hall
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Shortie #1
anticipation
a bowl unflushed
there is no
more blood
kahinam
Wa pa maflush ang
Bowl
Wala nay dugo
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Farewell The Bowl
Farewell to the cup, we have tarried too long,
Where the juice of the grape adds its witch'ry to song.
And the thoughts that flow'd freely are sombre and dull,
Our brains become heavy, farewell to the bowl,
Farewell, farewell, farewell, farewell to the bowl.
Oh, tarry no longer where joy flies away,
The heart and the soul lose their richest array,
Where eye mocketh eye, as unmeaning they roll,
The tongue whispers folly-farewell to the bowl.
Oh, think, if the maiden, who smiles in thine eyes,
Once saw thy proud mind in this shameful disguise;
Her heart would reject thee, how sadly her soul
Would pity and leave thee-oh, flee from the bowl.
Oh think, e'er the moment of thinking is past,
And chains of the mighty upon thee are cast!
Return-ere the iron shall enter thy soul,
And the dregs of thy life-a curse on the bowl.
poem by John Pierpont
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Gestalt....
is it the shape?
the shape of your face, your heart,
is it just the shape, of your body, the color of your hair,
the kinkiness of your eyes,
is it just the shape of the bowl that matters to you?
what about the contents of the
bowl, or if it is empty, what about the air that fills it somehow?
do you see it? no you don't, so
it is not just the shape, neither just the parts,
or the whole, there is something more in shapes and colors
and
even contents,
there is the will that bends everything
to mercy
there is the decision that convinces us all
to be one, this sympathy,
that empathy, that belief that i cannot live
without you,
that someone dies when someone leaves,
that life is better with us
in all these,
that there is life after our deaths,
there is this
unseen coming, this one that we want to
grasp yet
because we think we failed.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Greediness
A begging bowl is a filling bowl.
On its filling too, it tends to beg.
A grabbing grab is a possessing grab.
On its possessing too, it tends to grab.
Greediness is not the effect of the emptiness.
05.03.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Diddy Ba Bin
wa wa diddy ba
oer the way of kuriga
searched for love
and found a cave
and from above
a pact was made
and there he spent
the rest his days
saying wa wa diddy ba
searched for love and
found a voice
which gave him then
a bowl filled thrice
and everywhere the ba ba went
his bowl was filled
with sticky rice
the years wore on
the days wore thin
and what was left of ba ba bin
was found among the curios
and a bowl filled full
of cheerios
poem by George Murdock
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A Nonsense Poem - a Villanelle
A little mouse sings in a bowl
A little fish runs on a wheel
A little worm hops in a hole
A little hat has lost its sole
A little petal has no peel
A little mouse sings in a bowl
A little dog dances a reel
A little frog jumps on a mole
A little fish runs on a wheel
A little boat rings out a peal
A little bell loses its keel
A little mouse sings in a bowl
A little rock slips on a seal
A little perch walks on a pole
A little fish runs on a wheel
A little card shakes on a deal
A little sigh fancies a meal
A little mouse sings in a bowl
A little fish runs on a wheel
poem by Alison Cassidy
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Revelations
The clock on the wall
ticks away my passing life.
Occasionally I think back
at all the things I have done.
Some were good, some were bad,
and some made people happy
filling them with laughter.
Some made people sad
and filled their moments with tears,
some made people angry
making them swear a lot.
Some things I’ve said
filled minds with love
showing someone cared.
Of course, everyone is like this
as we pass down
life’s long and winding road.
Some things we say we cannot take back
and were never meant to be said.
Some were born out of anger
and others born out of frustration,
but none were born out of jealousy
that can so often ruin lives.
Then I look towards the future
and see a half empty bowl
with bits and pieces still dwelling there within,
and realise I have to fill that bowl
with good things in my life.
2 July 2008
poem by David Harris
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