The talk
There was a dialogue between two drunken men;
Look! It’s not my fork!
How can I eat this pork?
The glass is also not mine.
How can I dine?
The answer was:
You are a fool!
The fork is not the main tool.
Eat with the help of your hands,
Just as the flans.
Eat and drink!
Don’t be a fink!
The food and drinks are yours,
That is what everyone adores.
Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Related quotes
A man has to know
A man has to know how to cook, to sew and knit
And may be to iron a bit.
But it’s only in one case
Which you have to face.
Even saying “honey”
He doesn’t know how to earn money.
Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am Going My Way
I am sinful, not trying to be saint,
Just want to live, not to complain.
I am a woman with a feminine beauty,
Just want to love, not to be snooty.
I can be giddy, behave as I am a queen,
But with an open soul say what I mean.
Down on earth I am, not in paradise
I get what I give, this I well realize.
I see the richness in the sun and the rain
Don't like pittance, truth is the main.
Avoiding a scam, I am going my way,
I am as I am and as such I will stay.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 15th of August,2012
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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I am sinful...
I am sinful, not trying to be saint,
Just want to live, not to complain.
I am a woman with a feminine beauty,
Just want to love, not to be snooty.
I can be giddy, behave as I am a queen,
But with an open soul say what I mean.
Down on earth I am, not in paradise
I get what I give, this I well realize.
I see the richness in the sun and the rain
Don't like pittance, truth is the main.
Avoiding a scam, I am going my way,
I am as I am and as such I will stay.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 15th of August,2012
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Elsa And Joan
Elsa and Joan were truthful girls,
But just for fun they lied only once - on their day of birth.
On the 6th of April someone asked them:
When is your birthday?
Elsa used to say: It was yesterday.
Joan used to say: It will be tomorrow.
I will meet my dearest fellow.
The next day they were asked the same question.
And…the answer was just the same.
I don’t want anyone to blame.
But…. what is your suggestion?
When were they born?
Here I would like everyone to warn:
Getting the wrong answer
I will know for sure that….
You are a romancer.
If your answer is right
I will know that you like to fight,
You are very good in logic,
And… are very found to risk.
Your character is Nordic,
You are not psychic
And ….like to relax
And… have a beautiful sex.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 27th of December,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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May be it's a sin...
Maybe it's a sin
So much to love
Forget about all
For my love to starve.
Or it's heavens gift
About you to think,
Love as a sweet nectar
From your lips to drink.
I can even be
For my love a slave.
All can be with me
But you should be save.
If our God can judge,
I will pray for you
And the words of salvage
Will be: I love you.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 18th of April,2012
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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If
If your shirt has no button
and your trousers are roughen,
if your jacket is so crushed
and your carpet needs a brush,
if you can’t find a clotheshorse
and all the time curse
There is only one way out:
to marry or divorce.
Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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The path leads one.
On my way in the path
When I met the first fork,
I took at random an arm [of the fork]
Which led me to the next fork,
From where taking an arm,
I met another and so on
Till I reached where I am now.
The path led me than I led myself.
06.02.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Smile!
The anguish in your eyes?
Change the lenses!
The winter in your heart?
Fill the light! Be smart!
Someone betrayed you?
Says: Don't love you?
Forgive that hurt!
It's just a bullshit.
You are feeling nervous?
Drink tea with sweet honey!
You won't buy health for money.
Your days are blue and gray?
Take the guitar and play!
Greet every new day with a smile!
Anything that happens
It's just for a while.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 3rd of February,2012
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Othello
Theatre is not his passion,
but once a year
As for a good lesson
he takes his wife to listen to “Othello”,
To see that jealous fellow,
for her to know –
husband can be strict
and makes his own verdict.
Larisa R Odessa, Ukraine)
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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For every woman
For every woman my advice:
It is certainly nice
to read Kama Sutra,
to know who was Palaliputra.
But… when your husband is hungry
You better be in a hurry
And take another book
which tells you how to cook.
After a good and tasty meal
he will satisfy your will.
Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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It was the dark night
It was the dark night,
the 31st of October.
Shakespeare didn’t sleep.
His thoughts were so deep.
He waited for a witch to come
to finish his drama,
to find the conception
of love deception.
Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From the Dating Site
I am tall one when on the hills.
Kind one if he my life fulfils.
Would like some battles with him., , , but…
Only in case if he doesn't destroy my skills.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 13th of February,2012
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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At night
A woman who drives a car at night
Can shine as the moonlight.
You will notice her by all means.
But… it seems
She will not notice you,
You will not have time to skew.
The result you know –
Blow, carburettor’s flow, tow….
So?
Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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On a Fork of Byron's
Like any other fork.—No mark you meet with
To point some psychological conceit with.
An ordinary fork. A fork to eat with.
No individuality of fashion:
No stamp of frenzy fine, or poet-passion;
An article in no respect Parnassian.
No muse “with ivy never sere” hath decked it:
In fact, it would be foolish to expect it.
I question if the muses recollect it.
A plain straightforward fork; yet interesting,
As to the world in general attesting
That poetizing hinges on digesting.
A fork not standing on its merits merely,
But, being Byron's, testifying clearly
That verse and victuals are related nearly.
Quite genuine; crest and all; a fork to swear by;
Some poet-stories doubtless hanging thereby,—
Associations such as gold can ne'er buy.
For 'twixt the fork and the divine afflatus
The links are perfect; there is no hiatus;
Fork, stomach, brain, pen,—all one apparatus.
So when the food that on the fork ascended
Grew into verse as with the brain it blended,
The fork wrote just as truly as the pen did.
For though the fork the earlier resource is,
Between the two no violent divorce is,—
I hold them to be correlated forces.
Perchance the unsuspected ministration
Of this same fork first set in circulation
The coinage of his rich imagination.
Perchance this very fork could give the clue to
What many of the famous thoughts were due to,
That now are part of me, and part of you too.
And if its prongs administered the fuel
That working duly unto brain-renewal
Kindled the thoughts that even yet fire you all,—
This very fork—(unless I quite astray be,
And you of unimpressionable clay be)—
A factor in your moral product may be.
And musing thus, does not this fork begin to you
To seem as consanguineously akin to you
As if the bard himself had stuck it into you?
'Tis ever thus: what Genius consecrateth
The nearest with the most remote collateth,
Till meanest use on highest issue waiteth.
This salad, now, in which the fork I'm pressing,
Wherein are all sweet savours coalescing—
What subtle shoot of genius efflorescing
Flowered in the flavour of so rich a blessing?
Is it that Byron's fork, some charm possessing,
Transmutes the—stop a bit—Who did the dressing?
poem by James Brunton Stephens
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I am on diet
I’ll put on diet my fattish ass
So that the doorway I could pass.
I’ll do some exercises to lose weight
As fat asses I just hate.
I would like to look a model of super class
Or may be like a slander lass.
I know it’s too bad to amass fat,
But…while rhyming this couplet
I am looking at an apple pie
And a big saliva appears in my eye.
Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Alcogol
Some men are so energetic,
Earn money working hard.
Their words are so poetic,
That’s what you regard.
But...after drinking alcohol
They become worse a bull,
They behave like a monkey,
They spend money like a donkey.
Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Harvest
Autumn feeds with harvest
Birds, animals and human beings.
It brings breakfast, lunch and dinner,
It brings the sweetest things.
Autumn in the gardens,
Autumn in the wood…
Nature has prepared all kinds of food.
Harvesting is pleasant!
Harvesting is good!
Happy is a peasant,
Happy is a wood!
Mice collect the grain,
Bees collect the honey,
Granny makes a jam,
Winter will be funny
Without any flam.
Apples in the cellar,
Grape turns into wine.
We are nature’s dwellers,
We all want to dine.
Gathering gifts of nature
You’ll avoid the hunger,
You will be much stronger,
You will look much younger.
Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 7th of September,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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I feel so bad without you...
I feel so bad without you,
All my dreams are about you.
I lie in bed, thinking of only you.
You are my dearest and nearest,
The only one and sweetest.
Out of all you are the greatest.
You are so delicate and good
You quickly change my mood.
Your love I prefer to any food.
I love you so much, my darling.
You always look so charming,
When telling me "Good morning".
I touch you with my tongue,
You are my song I'd sung,
With you I am always young.
Every morning when I wake up
I want to have your love cup.
And slowly with pleasure sup.
I don't want you to loose,
Out of all only you I chose.
With only you I like to booze.
All days with you are the fests,
You have already passed all tests.
On you my whole life rests.
You are my inspiration and muse,
To love you I will never refuse,
My lovely drink - an orange juice.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska(Odessa, Ukraine)
The 1st of April,2012
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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I Won't Tarry, I Won't Marry
I won’t tarry,
I won’t marry,
I won’t complain,
Though the pain will remain.
I won’t ask: Please, take care of me!
Though the fear is inside me.
I will stay alone,
I will live on my own.
Writing poems will be my treatment,
With them I’ll find an agreement.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 11th of November,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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