Beware Of The Pie Cooker
There's never a dull moment as far as I can see
About a lady who's a librarian in Shrewsbury
Come what may she's a darling of the town
Always seen driving her Eos with the hood down
Hard as nails and an ass to match
She'll make someone a perfect- dare I say - catch
So anything you need to know is inside her head
Reading books to keep her brain well fed
But this Joan d'arc of the literary world
Has a secret that has yet to unfold
Given a chance she likes nothing more than to cook
Exciting things that turns heads and not pages of a book
So here's an example and you'll understand why
This lady loves making all sorts of pies
Be it vegetarian, pork or something special like Creole,
The main ingredient will always be soul
Whether it be human, dog or cat,
Who cares, she's enjoys herself and that's that
And whilst poor old Goober lies there waiting for fate
She's busy deciding what would be nice to put on a plate
Hot dog, burger, fish finger or cottage pie
No doubt thinking what to do when poor Goober dies
So, be not in haste
For if supper is late
Goober is not dead but is there licking his dinner plate.
poem by JeanJacques Evendon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Lady Loves Me
(duet with ann-margaret)
(words & music by tepper - bennett)
She loves me, she loves me not
She loves me, she loves me not
She loves me, she loves me, she loves me
The lady loves me and it shows
In spite of the way she turns up her nose
Im her ideal, her hearts desire
Under that ice shes burning like fire
Shed like to cuddle up to me
Shes playing hard to get
The lady loves me, but she doesnt know it yet
The gentleman has savoir-faire
As much as an elephant or a bear
Id like to take him for a spin
Back to the zoo to visit his kin
Hes got about as much appeal as a soggy cigarette
The lady loathes him but he doesnt know it yet
The ladys got a crush on me
The gentlemans crazy obviously
The ladys dying to be kissed
The gentleman needs a psychiatrist
Id rather kiss a rattlesnake
Or play russian roulette
The lady loves me, but she doesnt know it yet
Shes falling fast shes on the skids
Both of his heads are flipping their lids
Tonight shell hold me in her arms
Id rather be holding hydrogen bombs
Will someone tell this romeo
Im not his juliet
The lady loves me, but she doesnt know it yet
She wants me
Like poison ivy
Needs me
Like a hole in the head
Everyone can see shes got it bad
Hes mad!
The gentleman is an egotist
Im simply aware Im hard to resist
Hes one man I could learn to hate
Hows about having dinner at eight
Id rather dine with frankenstein
In a moonlight tete-a-tete
The lady loves me, but she doesnt know it yet
Oh yes she loves me
Dig that shrinking violet
Oh she really loves me
Heres one gal youll never get
She lo- lo- loves me
Would you like to make a bet
I said the lady loves me
The gentlemans all wet
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She's My Baby
Well I'm so blue
I'm thinking about you
I'm feeling so blue
I'm feeling so sad
I just don't understand
I'm feeling so sad
And in the midnight
I don t turn off the light
Until the daylight
Well I toss and I turn
And my heart it still burns
'Til I see her again
She's my lady, she's my baby, she's my lady
She's my baby, she's my lady, she's my haby
She's my lady, now, now, now, now
In the morning I wake
To go get food on my plate
But I just can't eat
And when I go in the cafe
To sit down at my seat
I don't have egg on my face
When it stops and it starts
It just tears me apart
Like a pain in my heart
But it's been misunderstood
Somebody's breaking the rules
And I'm nobody's fool
Well, well, well
She's my lady, she's my baby, she's my lady
She's my baby, she's my lady, she's my baby
She's my lady, now, now, now, now
When it's so high
I can reach for the sky
But when it's so low
I got nowhere to go
When it goes wrong
I just don't belong
When it goes right
It's clean out of sight
Oh yeah, yeah, yeah
I'm feeling so glad
I'm on top of the world
When I see you again
Well it's so true
I been thinking about you
Baby you're my flame
When it goes down
Down on the ground
When it goes down
But when it goes up
It just fills up my cup
When it goes up
Well, well, well
She's my lady, she's my baby, she's my lady
She's my baby, she's my lady, she's my baby
She's my lady, now, now, now, now
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Son Of A Poor Man
Hometown lady, leavin for the city
Bags in hand, shes boardin the train
Her last look through the window, I saw her eyes were as red as mine
I waved goodbye but I cant believe shes leaving.
But a woman cant be high-class
In a lonely farmers town
And the son of a poor man
Aint gonna turn your head around
But if you ever get lonely
Just pick up the telephone
And the son of a poor man will bring you home.
Maybe soon Ill see her on some television show
Painted lips and fingers singing for the world
A fashion plate for sure dancin for your plastic world
Call me up if you can but if not well Ill understand
But a woman cant be high-class
In a lonely farmers town
And the son of a poor man
Aint gonna turn your head around
But if you ever get lonely
Just pick up the telephone
And the son of a poor man will bring you home.
song performed by by Reo Speedwagon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh Darling
Oh darling, will you ever change your mind
Ive been feeling left behind
Like a shadow in your light
Ah honey wont you say that Im the one
And if you think youre gonna run
Well you know
Im gonna be around you, all about you
Always by your side
Im gonna dream about you, scheme about you
Love you all the time,
Love you all the time
Im gonna catch you lady
Catch you lady
The news is all over town
You better not let me down
Keep telling me youre feeling good
As good as you ever could
Please tell me that youll never go
Ah ah no no
Ah lately, Im like a watch thats overwound
And Ive got both feet off the ground
Because you see
Im gonna be so busy, oh my pretty
Love you night and day
And through the rain and shine
Ill make you mine
Ill love you come what may
Im gonna catch you lady, catch you lady
Catch you lady uh huh
song performed by by Supertramp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nice clever lady
A lady pulls a big bag
on a cart..
She stops at one corner
of the park.
A cat appears from nowhere
and rubs its body and its head
On woman's legs
from right to left, and then reverse.
The lady takes out of the bag
One cat's food can and yellow plate,
a table on the ground is set
in seconds matter, the cat happy ate.
While cat with the food keeps busy
the lady reach inside the bag again
And here comes some bread.
Breaking small pieces
throws them on the lake:
-Quack quack
the sleepy ducks awake
making the water
in many circles, dance:
-Hurry! Let's eat the treat.
Splash splash
some fishy fish quite big
also happily eats some bits
then jump around and sing:
Sweet bread~ sweet bread~
~for your great kindness ~
sweetest lady, Thanks!
Would you have a wish please?
-Oh that's alright,
no need for any prize
Coming here, I got rid
Of all my loneliness,
could you believe?
-But you must say a wish, please!
Say a wish please please! !
Well..Then.. If you.. Insist..
OK! ! No sorrows..
My wish shall be for you
to come and ask same question
starting tomorrow,
every single Day.
poem by Elena Sandu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shes A Baby
Well Im so blue
Im thinking about you
Im feeling so blue
Im feeling so sad
I just dont understand
Im feeling so sad
And in the midnight
I don t turn off the light
Until the daylight
Well I toss and I turn
And my heart it still burns
til I see her again
Shes my lady, shes my baby, shes my lady
Shes my baby, shes my lady, shes my haby
Shes my lady, now, now, now, now
In the morning I wake
To go get food on my plate
But I just cant eat
And when I go in the cafe
To sit down at my seat
I dont have egg on my face
When it stops and it starts
It just tears me apart
Like a pain in my heart
But its been misunderstood
Somebodys breaking the rules
And Im nobodys fool
Well, well, well
Shes my lady, shes my baby, shes my lady
Shes my baby, shes my lady, shes my baby
Shes my lady, now, now, now, now
When its so high
I can reach for the sky
But when its so low
I got nowhere to go
When it goes wrong
I just dont belong
When it goes right
Its clean out of sight
Oh yeah, yeah, yeah
Im feeling so glad
Im on top of the world
When I see you again
Well its so true
I been thinking about you
Baby youre my flame
When it goes down
Down on the ground
When it goes down
But when it goes up
It just fills up my cup
When it goes up
Well, well, well
Shes my lady, shes my baby, shes my lady
Shes my baby, shes my lady, shes my baby
Shes my lady, now, now, now, now
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Number Eight Hook
This little fish hook, is a number eight,
Tiny as it is I will attest.
It's put many fish on my dinner plate,
For catching perch it is the best.
I wouldn't exchange it for all the rest.
With a piece of night crawler, wiggling around,
This tiny hook is my weapon of choice.
The fish are ecstatic, at what they have found,
And all of a sudden, they just loose their poise.
The silent assassin strikes without noise.
Little red number eight, I depend upon,
To get me fish, with constant ease.
My secret weapon when all else goes wrong,
For a wonderful supper, or catch and release.
Little red number eight, knows just how to please.
9/5/10 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Its Not Too Late
(graham russell)
I stand alone Im just a face in the crowd
I get lonely if the truth be said
Sometimes I want to cry out loud
But I try to understand instead
I wish I had the strength inside to walk right up to you
(chorus # 1)
Its not to late to fall in love
Accept your fate Im the one youre thinking of
Its not to late so dont run away
I need you too, but its hard for me
So hard for me to say
So I listen for the perfect moment
To rush to you, but my hearts to slow
Everybody here can see me stumble
Better wait until the lights get low
I wish I had the strength inside to walk right up to you
I wouldnt have to hide behind those doubts I know are true
(chorus # 2)
Its not to late to fall in love
Accept your fate Im the only one your thinking of
Its not too late so dont run away
I need you to
But its hard for me
Yes its hard for me
Yes its hard for me
So hard for me to say
(repeat chorus # 1)
song performed by by Air Supply
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Lady's Eye
A teardropp falls from a lady's eye,
Misery seeps into her being,
She gives a deep, breathy, longing sigh,
And dreams about believing.
A shiny veil covers a lady's eye,
The world is dark and blurred,
She gives a moan and wants to die,
But her cries are never heard.
Water runs from a lady's eye,
Clogging up her thought,
Deep inside her creates a cry,
Of joy she never caught.
A lady's eye grows hard and sad,
Never to have the life she dreamed,
At the world she feels painfully mad,
Things were never as they seemed.
A lady's eye grows vacant and cold,
As she dies a lonesome death,
She dies without even a hand to hold,
And nothing to say on her last breath.
poem by Lenore Lee
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Holiday
Well she's all you'd ever want,
She's the kind they'd like to flaunt and take to dinner.
Well she always knows her place.
She's got style, she's got grace, She's a winner.
She's a Lady. Whoa whoa whoa, She's a Lady.
Talkin' about that little lady, and the lady is mine.
Well she's never in the way
Something always nice to say, Oh what a blessing.
I can leave her on her own
Knowing she's okay alone, and there's no messing.
She's a lady. Whoa, whoa, whoa. She's a lady.
Talkin' about that little lady, and the lady is mine.
Well she never asks for very much and I don't refuse her.
Always treat her with respect, I never would abuse her.
What she's got is hard to find, and I don't want to lose her
Help me build a mansion from my little pile of clay. Hey, hey, hey.
Well she knows what I'm about,
She can take what I dish out, and that's not easy,
Well she knows me through and through,
She knows just what to do, and how to please me.
She's a lady. Whoa, whoa, whoa. She's a lady.
Talkin' about that little lady and the lady is mine.
Yeah yeah yeah She's a Lady
Listen to me baby, She's a Lady
Whoa whoa whoa, She's a Lady
And the Lady is mine
Yeah yeah yeah She's a Lady
Talkin about this little lady
Whoa whoa whoa whoa
Whoa and the lady is mine
Yeah yeah She's a Lady
And the Lady is mine.
song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lady With The Spinning Head
Here she comes
Lady luck again
Figure of eight
Six and nine again
My lady with the spinning head
Whatever the deal
She wont let me down
Wherever I go
Shes always hanging round
My lady with the spinning head
La la la la la la la la la la la
Lady with the spinning head
La la la la la la la la la la la
Lady with the spinning head
Shes been gone
But I knew shed be back
Shes got the rent
She put me in the black
The lady with the spinning head
Took my mind
Took away my car
Do you dare to ask
What Im talking about
Im on top
When shes around
Shes my ticket
Out of town
La la la la la la la la la la la
Lady with the spinning head
La la la la la la la la la la la
Lady with the spinning head
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Romance Of A Book
Reading a book, you're hit by romance,
No matter the subject matter,
You can read and read,
And every book is different,
Some stories are more pleasant than others,
While some are funny, but most are serious,
For the romance of a book,
Is in everyone's heart,
No matter their age or height,
Whether male or female:
It is all relative and I devour,
Each and every book,
I can read the classics,
Or even a heart-warming romance,
I just get through so many books,
I love every storyline,
Not so much the gory parts,
But the cleverness of the fictional detectives,
And those rock stars that roam the stage,
For a book is something that will never age,
No matter how many years on the shelf,
And stories can be shared with everyone else,
Yet everyone has their own views,
And books can be lifting when they're feeling blue,
For people have been reading fiction for centuries,
But, of course, not all books are fictional:
There're the historical books, interesting,
Even if a reader is just passing through,
And we can all learn something from the history books,
And let's not forget the autobiographies:
Many a man and woman fascinating,
Having lead unique lives and having had special loves,
And there is a romance to these people,
For they walked the same earth as everyone else,
Yet brought something strange and special to the world,
Like a scientist making a new discovery,
Or a rock star penning a hit song,
And all these things are which make books belong,
I haven't met anyone yet who finds books boring,
Because books are not boring: they are fascinating,
Unique, special, strange, romantic and enjoyable,
And every reader's dream: like hitting 'play' on a record,
For this is the romance of a book.
poem by Paula Glynn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Say Ten
Shes not eatin bacon, not eatin sausage
And she wont eat eggs,
Not eatin chicken, not eatin turkey,
She wont have a steak,
But I just cant help feelin sorry
For this poor little lettuce head
You know, I cant stop cryin
cause I know this broccolis dead
Vegetarian, Im not a vegetarian
Vegetarian...shes a
Poor little cow, little sheep
Little fish how can I sleep?
When carrots are bleedin
Plants are screamin and tomatoes cry
You say its not so bad
Theyre only vegetables, thats what you said
Maybe Im a murderer, but Im hungry
And theyre better off dead
Save a plant, eat a cow
I want beef, I want it now!
Im gonna eat it cause its red!
Im gonna eat it cause its dead!
Maybe I should eat it raw
Let the blood run down my jaw
Id eat people if it was legal
Id eat people if it was legal!
song performed by by Reel Big Fish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crying For Bread
"Please, lady! please pay my Ma for her sewing;
The suit fits you splendidly--that you'll allow.
Oh! don't say tomorrow! I see you are going;
But this will not hinder long--please pay me now.
Ma work'd all night for you! ev'ry minute;
Now she lies groaning with pain in her head;
And there by the pantry (with not a thing in it),
Sits poor little Theodore crying for bread!
Poor little Theodore crying for bread!"
"On! driver, on! they have all gone before us,
And I will not be late at the ball," Beauty said;
And wintry winds echoed her answer in chorus
With poor little Theodore crying for bread!
Poor little Theodore crying for bread!
"Please lady! please pay my Ma for her sewing;
I'll run and get change for you. Don't call me bold--
But how could you dance tonight all the time knowing
That we were left suffering, hungry and cold?
Ma looks so wild! she keeps calling for Daisy;
That was the name of my sister that's dead.
Oh! what shall I do, with my Ma going crazy,
And poor little Theodore cryiing for bread?
Poor little Theodore crying for bread!"
"Please lady! please pay my Ma for her sewing;
She must have some medicine--that let me buy.
Now, don't speak of beggars! 'tis money you're owing:
Do please, pay me part of it--else we must die."
On the wheels roll'd, and Fidele returned weeping;
Ah! in her absence a spirit had fled,
And morning light found her a weary watch keeping,
With poor little Theodore crying for bread!
Poor little Theodore crying for bread!"
poem by Henry Clay Work
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My lovely lady
My lovely lady, How can I say farewell to you and by my hands I bought the tickets for you and I am taking you to the airport, How can I say farewell to you how, Darling I don’t believe that you are leaving me now at end, I am laughing in your beautiful angel face sham but here inside my body the overbore is killing me darling, How can I say farewell to you and I’m very sad, Over thousand pink I pinking myself and beating by million dirk and never enter a situation like this with a lady like you, I burned fire inside myself cause you are leaving me now alone, Darling please let me replete seeing you before you are leaving me, Honey give me a chance for once at end in whole my life and let me cry on your bosom come on please, Darling it's something not in your hands or in my hands cause we became a victims, This is our fate is to stay faraway from each other, Hold your tears honey enough crying cause your tears destroyed me, How can I say farewell to you how, If you left me I will make all the peoples crying if I shout for once, Darling clement my situation cause the fire is eating inside my chest, I never thought darling that you will leave me at end I never thought this, You were my love and all my life why you have to leave me alone, Oh honey I’m so sorry, I’m seeing you now walking to the departures terminal for the last time in whole my life, I hope I can see you again after this have a nice journey, God bless you my lovely lady.
Factrory Food
Factory Made Food.
A perfect microwave dinner for one
sunrays drink from the wine bottle
The dinner is tasteless,
and the rest of the wine is warm
as a cat licks its paw and has no worry
about the morrow.
Who invented tuna fish with mashed potatoes?
It must be someone without a mother,
or if he had one, she must have been
a busy executive and time poor.
At the orphanage they eat left over of dinners
they never had, forever made into a stew
children do not care; yester-days loaf.
He sits in his mansion, count his money and
think of other variety of frozen food he can
invented preferable something that looks
looks like vomit.
He is a vegetarian and hate mankind for
liking meat…he hates greedy little children too
even his own, serves them burger made of
fat full of sugar and salt.
Knows he will follow them to the grave and
be the longest living man on earth.
Who the hell drank my wine?
poem by Oskar Hansen
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(Personality Poem) A Attacking Angry Voice
The man who won't stop
Like an addiction, a self centered affliction.
I think he might just like hearing himself talk.
Someone please suggest that he needs to keep his mouth shut.
Over the hill tops
Under the roof tops
His voice echos.
Forever words chasing me down.
Attacking till I fall to the ground.
Just let me get up.
Give me a chance.
Before you say, you say.
You're a loser.
You're dilluted.
So shallow and ugly.
From the outside in.
Hell hasn't seen the likes of you yet.
Here's my anger on a plate.
Enjoy, and please try to destroy.
Anyway just to feel a little better on the inside.
Driving the nails into a very shaken mans coffin.
Bury me now.
You already dug the hole.
With blood and sweat.
I really believe every word you met.
Please say it again
It was just not enough.
Think you got it tough.
Poor you, here you want a tissue.
Excuse after excuse.
Just let it all lose.
The man who won't stop
Like an addiction, a self centered affliction.
I think he might just like hearing himself talk.
Someone please suggest that he needs to keep his mouth shut.
Over the hill tops
Under the roof tops
His voice echos.
Forever words chasing me down.
Attacking till I fall to the ground.
Just let me get up.
Give me a chance.
Before you say, you say.
You're a loser.
You're dilluted.
So shallow and ugly.
From the outside in.
Hell hasn't seen the likes of you yet.
Here's my anger on a plate.
Enjoy, and please do try to destroy.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Our Friendship Ain't Fateful
Late out of state without absolute hate,
I decline to incline my fate into failure’s plate
I perceive not me able to be for you that great
Yet you make perfect of me, even in my state
Looking down upon me not, yet looking upon me without hate
Of how it came to being is a mystery that revives history in slate
Oh how I hate the thought I could lose my current state
In hate I’d sulk to ever cross a path that seals this fate
Can destiny and fate really drag me away? I doubt; they’re late
poem by David Munene wa Kimberly
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In The Churchyard At Cambridge. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)
In the village churchyard she lies,
Dust is in her beautiful eyes,
No more she breathes, nor feels, nor stirs;
At her feet and at her head
Lies a slave to attend the dead,
But their dust is white as hers.
Was she a lady of high degree,
So much in love with the vanity
And foolish pomp of this world of ours?
Or was it Christian charity,
And lowliness and humility,
The richest and rarest of all dowers?
Who shall tell us? No one speaks;
No color shoots into those cheeks,
Either of anger or of pride,
At the rude question we have asked;
Nor will the mystery be unmasked
By those who are sleeping at her side.
Hereafter?--And do you think to look
On the terrible pages of that Book
To find her failings, faults, and errors?
Ah, you will then have other cares,
In your own short-comings and despairs,
In your own secret sins and terrors!
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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That Poor Defencless Fish
that poor defenceless fish,
caught a haft hour ago.
they chopped off his head,
and cut through his guts.
just think for a minute,
just a uick minute.
how does that poor fish feel? how would you like it?
that poor defenceless fish,
his last thoughts,
lord, have mercy on my soul,
or just get it over with.
i feel bad for that fish,
that poor little fish.
and thats the story,
of the poor defenceless fish
poem by Tamera Swafford
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