Alankar(Decor) -88
Simply Couplets-1(uneven couplet)
The doors of the mouth ever unshut on a pretext
Craving mouth craves blaming the teeth in set
The tainted teeth of gourmet-colours
Act to curse the tongue of tastes
Doused in tastes the luscious tongue
Chides the cooking hands fakely in slang
Berate the hands falsely the walking feet
For often they 're on a shopping fleet
'The order'mutter the shopping legs
'By the stomach and its hungry yowls'
It's the mind of my master
Grumbles the stomach with its hunger
O'mind what do you say
Towing your master your way
Gluttonous self clutches an impaired castle dangerous
O'master cherish a life then gorgeous?
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Related quotes
Twenty-five years
Strong must these teeth be
Gnashing for twenty-five years
And yet whole and unbroken and sharp
Still willing to bite the dust
To chew pride
To masticate pieces of prejudice
And let the throat know
It must swallow and swallow still
There is so much still to be taken in
There is this thirst of the tongue
This hunger of the mouth
The craving of the stomach
The eyes study the art of waiting
The feet prepare to kick and the arms are ready
For the ambush
Of the enemy
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The fruits on the table
I love the papayas
Spread on the table
Reddish orange papayas
Plump and Smooth to my
Hands
And some purple grapes
Sweet pulp
Luscious to my
Lips
Some rambutans
Hairy fruits in red
Tickling to my
Fingers
Pungent durian
Tasting like
Heaven to
My mind
They are all spread on
The table
And I would caress smooth
Reddish papayas with
My bare hands
Put a grape in my mouth
And my tongue
Does the savoring of
Juicy rambutans
My lips close in
To a juicy roundness
As I breathe on some
Red hairs
Of this magical luscious fruit
The durian is opened
And the taste of heaven
Comes to my mind
With eyes closed as
Though I own all the passions
Of this world
When we were young and
Crazy about ourselves
I laid her on the table
And spread herself there
She was all those kinds of
Fruits to me and I was the
Hands, the mouth, the lips,
The tongue
The stomach that swallowed her all
Every bit that was juicy
Every freshness every plumpness
She was all fruits to me
She was all nature giving in, all over
To the passions of this fruit lover.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A human body
Your
Head is not head
A computer...
Your
Eye is not eye
A camera...
Your
Ear is not ear
A cell phone...
Your
Mouth is not mouth
A wet grinder...
Your
Nose is not nose
A window...
Your
Stomach is not stomach
A Hotel...
Your
Hands is not hands
A wonder tool...
Your
Legs is not legs
A bycycle...
Your
Heart is not heart
A Rose...
With love...
With out love
A pump...
It is all
Your and your's of
Human body....
Simple Example...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Basorexia
you have infected my mind
and my tongue is restless
hungry, craving, crazy
for the next kiss and the next and the next
and the next
my tongue hand in hand with your tongue
exploring the contours of the gums and teeth
our taste buds bursting like flames.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Literary Tongue
at first i like the hands
those huge hands to cover the whole of my cold body
and then i begin to like the fingers
those that crawl and make my body warm
those that fill the orifice of my emptiness
those that caress my hair
and travel from my nose to my mouth
to my neck to the last tip of my toes
and then i like the mouth too
with its tongue that speak about gentleness
and make me a little bit heated
and brave
and then i am finally stuck with the tongue
the surrogate part of of them all
it speaks
it licks
it travels from the tip of my hair to the tip of my toe
and then it stops
hides inside the walls of my teeth and gums
and stay in the house of my mouth
it also knows
when to stop and just be alone and silent
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ode To Pie
Ode to pie
It tastes good
Chocolate is the best
It is sugary.
Ode to the taste
It swirls in my mouth
It is good in my stomach.
It is sweet.
Ode to my mouth
It lets me eat pie
It chews it for me
I am grateful.
Ode to pie
It tastes good
Chocolate is the best
It is sugary.
poem by Michael Issac Palmer
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Lord of the Flies
Oh Master my Master
Oh where have you been
I wallowed in filth and
I drowned in sin
Oh Master my Master
It's my rotten luck
To swim in the decay
And swallow the muck
Oh Master my Master
I stand in the fires
Surrounded by murderers
Thieves, cheaters, and liars
Oh Master my Master
the earth has turned red
Fluid with blood
Of the recently dead
Oh Master my Master
What's wrong with the world
The blackness unfolds
Like a flag that's unfurled
Oh Master my Master
You ignore my cries
And now I'm quite sure
You're the Lord of the Flies
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
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The Fish That You Caught With Your Fishing Rod
the fish that you caught with your fishing rod
while you were alone at sea
tastes more delicious than the one that you
bought in the market
you have worked for it
you waited for long to catch it and hold it with your bare hands
you can still feel the vibrations of the nylon string
which caught the mouth of the fish
that now you are cooking and eating
the excitement still resounds inside your tongue
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A space to thrive
time and mind never
meet eye to eye
time is a master
with limitations
anyone who has
a brush with it
will tell you why
it leads us all
down the wrong alley
and die
it is ying, the
female energy
darkness
a stasis in disguise
the mind is a master
of a heaven
of freedom
it is yang
the sun
light that
spreads life
and cheers
a mind just
refuses to be
shadowed
pigeonholed
it is an inquisitive
child all out on
his two feet
crawling, walking,
running, standing or
falling
time finds itself
all too
inadequate
to keep up
with the mind
or within the grasp
of its two hands
the mind
can be where it
likes to be
in as well as
out of time
any place
anywhere
time sadly needs
a space to
thrive, a
dimension
to give it
significance
a mind that
extends a
helping
hand to
help him
walk the walk
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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My New Worst Holiday-Halloween
candies, cookies, cakes galore! i dont know if my teeth or stomach can take it anymore! my stomach is mad, but my brain is ecstatic! i think i am a candy fanitic! i am going to burst soon, soon i will burst. i cant make or eat another candy broughtworst! my mouth is sore from screaming 'TRICK OR TREAT! ! ! ' and my legs are standing at their peak! Halloween is my new worst holiday, but for now, relief i seek!
CREATED ON: 10-31-08
poem by Bonnie Joe
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Shopping
Were buying and selling your history
How we go about it is no mystery
We check it with the city, then change the law
Are you looking forward?
Now you want some more
Were s-h-o-pp-i-n-g, were shopping
Its easy when you got all the information
Inside help, no investigation
(no investigation, investigation)
No questions in the house, no give and take
Theres a big bang in the city
Were all on the make
Were s-h-o-pp-i-n-g, were shopping
Were s-h-o-pp-i-n-g, were shopping
Our gain is your loss, thats the price you pay
I heard it in the house of commons: everythings for sale
Were shopping
Were shopping
Were s-h-o-pp-i-n-g, were shopping
Were s-h-o-pp-i-n-g, were shopping
Ah ah ah, ah ah ah, ah ah ah, ah ah
Ah ah ah, ah ah ah, ah ah ah, ah ah
Were s-h-o-pp-i-n-g, were shopping
Were s-h-o-pp-i-n-g, were shopping
(were shopping
Were shopping
Were shopping
Were shopping
Were shopping)
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Zipper my tongue
notice me not; i am zipper by the fence of
my teeth and close by the lips, protected by two
holes beneath the two big eye balls rap with color
little hair, to feel it shiny tiny cloth of skin to tell
why keep in talking if the heart can't improve
good silent, and why the nose always breathing
when, the same air, feel in the air, would it's not
easy for the ears listen and talk to the wind after
the dawn of silent
sleep my dear heart; let us always open the mouth
and touch the teeth for every silent the tongue will
speak; for each return claps the hands where the pin
is on
what then the little heart tell, when the big blind
mouth says that; the waiting is over for everything is
ready to a harder fight, and win a better glorious
victory, its not the right aim yet, the best shoot it
gain
stop my apology; the same things happen again,
please switch a new beginning for my awesome
heart zipper my tongue forever......
poem by Antonio Liao
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Master Of Mind Can only be a Master Mind!
Seeing and hearing,
Is it eye that see?
Is it ear that hear?
Eyes are windows of Mind,
Like are ears, eyes have eyelids, ears remain open!
Seeing is not perceiving,
Light passes through the small camera,
Giving picture of world around,
Yet mind is the processor,
Process the data,
Process the colourful image,
Sometime filling with its own colour!
But it is not vision,
mind sees something itself,
Seeing through the mind without the help of eyes
Neither windows opened,
Nor light from open windows affect!
Mind is that faculty sees something within,
And day by day the vision become clear,
When mind learns it is not the seer,
It sees everything clear,
Clearly presented to the master,
And Self is the master of Mind,
When mind is pure and clear,
Without prejudice and suspense traits,
Self perceives self in its true nature,
Nothing goes bad,
processed food for thought remain good for ever!
one who sees eyes as seer,
He is ignorant,
One who sees mind as a seer,
Knows not,
One whose mind sees the seer is different,
Vision get purified, seer can see through the mind,
Scenes seen by mind with eyes closed,
when perceived by seer,
It becomes vision of life,
And that vision when becomes ambition of life,
Ambition becomes aspiration,
Aspiration transforms into mission,
Mission transmits wisdom and genius of self!
Self becomes master Of mind
Self becomes master Mind,
Master and mind becomes one,
Master Of Mind Can only be a Master Mind
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Tongues
the tongue
of my body
is in the nerves
the tongue
of my soul
in the heart
the tongue of
my mind
in the head
the tongue
of truth and deceits
in the mouth
the tongue of
the World (Creation)
in the words
of God
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Master Mind
The master mind, devil of evil.
Initiator of deception, creator of sorrow.
Most cunning, most assuring,
fallen emperor, proud prince.
Master mind, he masters the mind
At the entrance of the grave,
he envies the throne of grace.
author of death, father of hell
rewards flaming passions with flames of fire
and he masters the proud, master mind
He serves to master
and masters the world
beauty, wealth, power, and pride...
his own assets.
The master mind serves the world.
His empire is deception,
his agent is 'reason'
who reasons with the wise
and curses the proud into a trap
He masters the mind, who masters the world!
poem by Timothy muggaga
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Night Raider 'Super Wise Hyper Vision
master 'super wise stomach'
store discrete stealth planned
with 'super wise hyper vision'
sly night raid upon fat fridge
choc-a-holic raid on hoard fridge
is among safest master minded
as stealth 'super wise stomach'
plans food cause supply liberation
poem by Terence George Craddock
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12 Midnight
Now the master sleeps
Leaving you some of his poems
Now it is midnight
Now the master has to sleep
Take care yourselves
Take care of his poems
They are now yours,
All his disciples
The master sleeps.
Now, see, how the master breathes
Listen to the rhythm of his sighs
Some poems are coming out from
His nostrils some poems are coming out
From his mouth and ears
The master poet is asleep
Even in dreams he weaves some images
Dreamy, surreal, ephemeral, his sleep
Has rhyme & rhythm, he is a soul breathing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Idiosyncrasies Of A Middle-aged Man
What you need
perhaps is
something crispy in you mouth
so that you
may endure
the scary thing about
emptiness
the mouth keeps
a sound
to please the teeth
to fill the mouth
to make the tongue
play
its inner games
something
crispy like a newly
printed
money
surely not perhaps
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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As you read these lines
As you read these lines
Another toothpick
Is chewed by my teeth
Something is wrong
With my tongue and
Teeth, how they compete
For recognition, the teeth
Claiming it chewed the
Words the tongue claiming
It approved the taste,
I am listening how they
Argued and quarreled,
And in the chaos I bit the
Toothpick chewed it
And spit it out,
How choppy have I
Become, how some
Of my parts have been
So disjoined, and how
Have I become
So disengaged, divided,
Like the tongue &
Teeth, in their bickering.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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(V - 2004) The Lad who was called Mad
People called him mad.
Many a days
He came to my mother
He would then say
‘There is fire in my stomach’
My mother would then hurry her cooking
Soon she would serve
Rice and curry
Spiced with love and care.
He would eat to his full
And at the very next door
He would again say
‘There is fire in my stomach –
I am hungry still’
And so one day
I looked deep into him
Wondered what his hunger was for
And saw fire in his heart.
Still, he little knew that
He simply said, ‘there is fire in my stomach’
And people called him mad.
He was a sensitive lad
Some had led him astray
So he lost his senses,
Lost his way
And people called him mad.
This hurt him more
Still he had them guide him.
So, finally one day
Into the temple pond
He drowned himself
To quell for ever
The fire in him
And then the people
Who had called him mad
Said with pity, ‘Oh, how sad! ’