Domestic Shades 2
1
She's a lady of transition
Four houses, yes or no her own decision
Her absence brings in a chaos
Her presence makes a fracas..
Who else? my maid the great
Quality, punctuality remarkably ten percent
Washing the vessels useless
Sweeping and mopping hopeless
I cannot still reject her totally
Known devil is ever better truly
Carrying the election-gifts
Easily away from her works she drifts
Madam of possible politics
Possibly be the Mayor in sooner times
2
Milk-man! a seller of no quality
And a man of no punctuality
And hence today's milk I reserve
For tomorrows coffee to serve
Sometimes a messy haywire..
Milk curdled, awaiting the milkman in dire
For the fresh milk waiting and waiting..
So what, that man has no timing
's been totally annoying
I grumble about the government..
Treating the illoyal, imperfect with a betterment
As I grouch about the bitter
So do the people around here
As the milkman is a sample bitter
So are many more like variety- vendor
Scavenger and street sweeper
Improper creatures!
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Related quotes
Surroundings-32
Changing Milkman
As is the milk so is its bell, so is the milkman so changing
Music on air ere the milkman nearing.'Cellphone'sends loud signal
Adulteration overshadowed.Like music like milkman's milk
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Gratitude dawning
Alarm clock. The sun rises.
The buses, railways, flights are running.
There’s a bottle of milk on the doorstep.
Facts of life. Except when they’re not there.
Who lives a life of continual gratitude for life?
Hey guys, the sun which disappeared last night
has turned up again today! Wow! Relief! Let’s get down
on our knees, raise hands, voices… and
while we’re about it, put your hands together for
all morning milkmen, where they still deliver milk…
Except – no milk this morning.
Shall you telephone – politely,
with a subtext of unpractised gratitude?
I only saw the current milkman once;
said to him, this is the first time I met you…
he said, well, you’re not around at 4 ay em are you?
So you telephone. A foreignish voice from
the land of holy cows replies from
a script I guess, …your previous milkman…
left the company… late…on his way…
Morning gratitude. The cow who gives you
the love for her calves, in liquid form;
yielding too, the butter for your toast;
the pig who gave her life for your bacon rasher;
the hen who parted with her offspring for you
to kill its life in sizzling frying pan…
they’re all female, you’ve just noticed; how about
the oranges whose liquid praise of the morning sun you drink?
tomatoes, mushrooms, anybody?
maybe you should write a note to the dairy,
say, please convey to the milkman
who has now left the company for
pastures new, hur hur, and we hope
a creamy, frothing future,
our gratitude for services rendered
which we would not ourselves
be easily persuaded to take on…
yes, maybe you should.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Cat with milk
My cat
Not drink milk...
For today...
Yester day
My cat was
Try drink hot
Of milk...
Hot was hit...
For my cat mouth...
Cat was did not cry...
Run away for hot
Milk pot...
So...
Today coll milk also
My cat did not drink...
O...
I am very soory
For hot milk...
Come to drink milk....
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Bit News
Donkey milk
Is...
Good for health...
This thinking for
South indian poeple's...
So...
New born baby
Given for donkey's milk...
I also drink for
Donkey milk at childhood...
My gran mother told for me...!
Donkey milk is for
Only at donkey...
But...
People idea is...
Donkey's milk is how is
Help full for human health...?
I don't no...!
Miss or mrs univers
Celeo patra also
Take bath for
Donkey's milk...
For his beauty...
It history bit news
How much true
I don't no...!
You know...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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I love milk so much! I make a point of drinking a glass of milk every day. So now anyone who did those milk ads with the milk mustaches, they're my heroes.
quote by Natalie Portman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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635 Milk The Elixir Of Life
MILK - One of God's preciuos gifts
For all who seek to live
Of all the food that passes lips
This has the most to give.
And when we from our Mothers feed
Her milk provides our every need.
The milk of cows and goats and sheep
Sustains us in our later life
An elixir before we sleep
It calms our nerves and eases strife
What is the secret of this stuff
Milkaholics just can't get enuff.
We know that milk is mostly water
There's almost eighty eight percent
There's protein - fat and carbohydrate
And calcium to give bones strength.
Drinka - Pinta - Milka - Day
It sure will help you on your way.
Full-fat milk makes ladies fertile
And it tastes much nicer too
Leave the skimmed milk for the slimmers
While you enjoy your creamy goo.
Jersey Milk has FIVE POINT THREE
Fresian much less - Oh dear me! ! !
Milk is a rich source of vitamins
A and D and E and K
Lactose gives our milk its sweetness
Drinka - Pinta - Milka - Day.
Drinking milk instead of coffee
Keeps you calm and much less stroppy.
Natural milk is prone to curdle
So we have to Pasteurise
Killing all the dee-dum-durdle
Homogenise and Sterilise.
When next in't Country - it's my vow
To drink my milk straight from the cow! ! !
Milk provides a range of products
Cream - Butter - Cheese and Yoghurt too
Without which life would be much poorer
No Camembert or Danish Blue.
When our palates we would please
We judge a country by its Cheese.
I'll sing the praise of English Cheeses
Cheddar - Cheshire - Wenslydale
Lancahire and Regal Stilton
From pastures lush in Leicester Vale.
Christmastime with Port & Stilton
In Terraced House or at the Hilton.
My 'Ode to Milk' is not complete
Without a mention of 'Best Butter'
'Farmhouse' from the pasture sweet
The taste? 'A Pastoral Ode by Rutter'.
And never let me utter words obscene
Unsaturated Fats and tatseless Margarine.
poem by John Knight
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The Milkman and a Widow's cry
The old Mill by the Riverside
And a middle aged widow stands
At the rickety gate.
The handsome lad who brings milk
Early in the morning
And the Sun pretends
As an Onlooker.
She took the boy inside
And locked the door.
Asked the boy to sit on the sofa
She's seated close to him and relaxed.
The boy seemed to be totally perplexed!
She took out a small book from her nightgown pocket
And gave it to the boy to read aloud.
He reads; 'When the daybreak
Perhaps a boy comes with milk
He looks like our neighbor Midwife's son
Let him read this in my absence.
Believe me, I am reborn your old soldier
And you don't feel lonely
Don't cry and I'll bring you milk everyday..................!
The boy watched the tears fell from her tiny eyes
And he stopped reading.
He hurries sullenly leaving the premises by saying;
'Please do not worry Madam!
I'll stay a night or two on a full moon day
And read this leisurely
That I promise you earnestly.'
Then she smiled and it seemed incredibly complicated.
*To my Life-school Art Teacher, the poetess Sandra Fowler in gratitude!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The virtue is compared with milk
Colors of the cows vary,
The variety of the breeds vary,
But the color of the milk
does never vary,
It is always pure and white!
Similarly,
The quality for a human being
is the virtue he gains in his life time
through good deeds;
('The virtue is compared with milk')
The paths for attaining virtue
may be many genuine ways!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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Sister Cat
Cat stands at the fridge,
Cries loudly for milk.
But I've filled her bowl.
Wild cat, I say, Sister,
Look, you have milk.
I clink my fingernail
Against the rim. Milk.
With down and liver,
A word I know she hears.
Her sad miaow. She runs
To me. She dips
In her whiskers but
Doesn't drink. As sometimes
I want the light on
When it is on. Or when
I saw the woman walking
toward my house and
I thought there's Frances.
Then looked in the car mirror
To be sure. She stalks
The room. She wants. Milk
Beyond milk. World beyond
This one, she cries.
poem by Frances Mayes
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My father was a milkman. So, I delivered milk.
quote by Karl Malden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Milkcow Calf Blues
(Robert Johnson)
Tell me, milk cow, what on earth is wrong with you?
Tell me, milk cow, what on earth is wrong with you?
Well, well, you have a new calf, hoo hoo, and your milk is turnin' blue
Your calf is hungry, and I believe he needs a suck
[Spoken:] Now, you know that calf done got hungry
Your calf is hungry, and I believe he needs a suck
Well, now, but the milk is turnin' blue, hoo hoo, and I believe he's outta luck
Now I feel like milkin' and my, cow won't come
I feel like churnin' it and my, milk won't turn
I'm cryin' plea-hease, please, don't do me wrong
You can give-a right milk and butter, now, baby, you-hoo, will stay at home
My milk cow been ramblin', hoo hoo, for miles around
My milk cow been ramblin', hoo hoo, for miles around
She been troublin' some other bull cow, hoo hoo
Lord, in this man's town
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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With a dropp of…
To utter ten words sweet
And then one word bitter
Is like a glass of milk
With a dropp of poison.
The purpose is to give
Poison and not the milk.
06.02.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Dairy Ode
Our muse it doth refuse to sing
Of cheese made early in the spring,
When cows give milk from spring fodder
You cannot make a good cheddar.
The quality is often vile
Of cheese that is made in April,
Therefore we think for that reason
You should make later in the season.
Cheese making you should delay
Until about the first of May.
Then cows do feed on grassy field
And rich milk they abundant yield.
Ontario cannot compete
With the Northwest in raising wheat,
For cheaper there they it can grow
So price in future may be low.
Though this a hardship it may seem,
Rejoice that you have got the cream,
In this land of milk and honey,
Where dairy farmers do make money.
Utensils must be clean and sweet,
So cheese with first class can compete,
And daily polish up milk pans,
Take pains with vats and with milk cans.
And it is important matter
To allow no stagnant water,
But water from pure well or stream
The cow must drink to give pure cream.
Canadian breeds 'tis best to pair
With breeds from the shire of Ayr,
They thrive on our Canadian feed
And are for milking splendid breed.
Though 'gainst spring cheese some do mutter,
Yet spring milk also makes bad butter,
Then there doth arise the query
How to utilize it in the dairy.
The milk it floats in great spring flood
Though it is not so rich and good,
Let us be thankful for this stream
Of milk and also curds and cream.
All dairymen their highest aims
Should be to make the vale of Thames,
Where milk doth so abundant flow,
Dairyland of Ontario.
poem by James McIntyre
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Insomnia & Poetry
Sweet muse
with bitter milk,
I have lain
between your breasts,
put my ear
to your sea-shell-whispering navel,
& strained the salty marshes
of your sex
between my milk teeth.
Then I've slept at last,
my teeming head
against your rocking thigh.
Gentle angry mother
poetry,
where could I turn
from the terror of the night
but to your sweet maddening
ambivalence?
Where could I rest
but in your hurricane?
who would always take me home
but you,
sweeping off the sooty stoop
of your wind-filled shack
on the edge
of the volcano?
poem by Erica Jong
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Put Your Big Toe In The Milk Of Human Kindness
Put your big toe in the milk of human kindness
Have you ever seen the like of this mankind?
If a boy or girl is cute, we simply shoot to starry heights
Any maybe, any might
But always so capricious, in the face of wonder were suspicious
And though we came from frogs and fishes
Our taste is far from fine
Put your big toe in the milk of human kindness
Put your big toe in the milk of human kindness
Have you ever seen the like of this mankind?
You take the himalayas, youll take manhattans finest mountain top
He wouldnt change his whiskey sour for any bitter crop
But always so contrary, from father christmas to the virgin mary
And though the moments of belief
Fly by before you find if youd just unhand your mind
Put your big toe in the milk of human kindness
But always so contrary, from father christmas to the virgin mary
And though the moments of belief
Fly by before you find if youd just unhand your mind
Put your big toe in the milk of human kindness
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No food is wasted
The milk poured over the idol’s head
Trickles down to reach the earth.
The milk is not spilt; germs are there to eat.
The milk spoilt means germs have eaten it.
The milk stolen by the cat is not a waste.
No organic food goes waste
And is broken down to elements
In cycles of feeding by organisms.
The elements, the end product,
Serves as food to the plant kingdom.
08.02.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Broremann The Farmhand
Broremann, the farmer worker.
Every morning at five thirty sharp, my brother Broremann
had to milk five cows by hand bring bucket full of goodness
to the scullery where maid sifted it and in a churn it went.
He had to start milking Rose first, she was the mother cow
other cows wouldn´t give milk unless he started with her.
After milking Broremann had to clean the barn five cows
make a lot of dung; he pushed it down in a hole in the wall
it was later used to fertilize the land. My brother was proud
of his ability to milk and his hands were, firm yet gentle.
There was a problem though Rose didn´t yield as much milk
as before as she was getting elderly and the farmer sold her
to the knacker’s yard. It was a sad day and the other cows
mooed woefully. The farmer bought a new cow to take Rosa´s
place, but Broremann couldn´t milk her first, as she was new-
comer, so he started with Gerda, now the oldest cow, and milk
the new one last, thus rural peace continued in the cow shed.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Milk And Cookies
R.E.M.---Milk Cookies
[...Heavy applause.]
ANDY: Since you've all been such good boys and girls,
I would like to take everybody in this entire
audience out for milk and cookies! There are
busses outside! Everybody, follow me!!!
...
Don't worry, folks! There's enough milk and
cookies for everyone!
[Instrumental]
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That is matter
At home
Cat kiss
The milk...
With drink...
Rat run fast
Cat also
Run fast...
Milk was
Wasted on flour...
Milk wasted
No problem
Cat afried for
Sumall rat...!
That is matter...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Gratitude
I found a starving cat in the street:
It cried for food and a place by the fire.
I carried it home, and I strove to meet
The claims of its desire.
And since its desire was a little fish,
A little hay and a little milk,
I gave it cream in a silver dish
And a basket lined with silk.
And when we came to the grateful pause
When it should have fawned on the hand that fed,
It turned to a devil all teeth and claws,
Scratched me and bit me and fled.
To pay for the fish and the milk and the hay
With a purr had been an easy task:
But its hate and my blood were required to pay
For the gifts that it did not ask.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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