Fruits, Nuts, Vegetables and the Buzz of Bees
Does a grape know
That it is sweeter than the ones
Already picked from the vine?
And it is left to sit,
Knowing it?
Is it sour?
Does an apple know whether it's Delicious?
Granny or MacIntosh?
Suppose it thinks itself a peach?
What outreach programs would it seek,
To undo the confusion?
Especially with more varieties,
Moving in to further complex the issue.
And what about the pineapple?
Sitting in a palm tree.
Knowing bananas do palms too!
How would you feel...
If someone called you a coconut?
Would you be upset?
Why couldn't you have been the one,
To produce milk instead of nectar?
Watermelons and nuts come from the ground.
Well...
Peanuts anyway!
Can you imagine the conversations of pecans?
Growing in trees.
And having lemons, oranges and pomegranates too...
Giving them much attitude.
Because they have skins!
And not shells to live in!
Some squashes have seeds.
Peas are grown in pods.
Beans like lima and blackeyes,
Are considered vegetables.
Like collard geens, cabbage and lettuce!
And corn being stalked by crows.
Some are chosen to pop!
And thrown to pigeons...
Who dropp their 'doo' on street blocks.
Can you imagine?
If they ever decided to stir up conflict,
Amongst themselves.
Over the way they've been treated!
Not the pigeons!
They could care less.
However...
We would have no fruits, nuts or vegetables to eat.
Maybe this is something the bees already know?
Since they are just getting 'some' acknowlegement!
And they have been buzzing around and getting no respect.
For 'all' they do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Pigeons Cooing When They Do
Pigeons cooing when they do,
A cooing begun.
As they strut after flying...
Or sit and stare with a sitting done.
They seem to fly around in packs,
To peck and pick in shifts.
Until someone begins to eat,
A delicious 'anything' pigeons seek...
With probing beaks.
Then other pigeons dropp in flocks,
From places suspicious.
While peacocking around,
Scouting out for something dished.
Like some popcorn or peanuts.
Or crumbs from crackers and/or bread.
To feed in a cooing...
As if a drooling done is did.
They seem to fly around in packs,
To peck and pick in shifts.
Until someone begins to eat,
A delicious 'anything' pigeons seek...
With probing beaks.
Pigeons cooing when they do,
A cooing begun.
As they strut after flying...
Or sit and stare with a sitting done.
Then other pigeons dropp in flocks,
From places suspicious.
While peacocking around,
Scouting out for something dished.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hiding With A Squab
'Have you run out of luck? '
Said the goose who left a flock of geese,
On an approach...
To what was thought,
To be a sitting duck plucked.
~No not at all.~
Replied a nearby pigeon,
Practicing ventriloquism...
And hiding with a squab,
Of witnessing young pigeons.
~My family and I,
Have grown tired of berries, popcorn and nuts.
And we decided to use a decoy,
To see what showed up.
But to my surprise,
A nosey goose has arrived.
Strutting with a pulchritude...
To annoy a duck...
My uncle disguised.
Telling me that I had talents,
The family thought could be put to better use.
And here you come strutting...
Believing a plucked duck has run out of luck,
When tonight a family of pigeons....
Are going to feast on cooked goose.
Something to feed the younger pigeons,
To lift them with an ego boost!
Get 'em boys! ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gone Are My Nuts
Gone are my nuts.
The ones I mixed up,
With raisins, dried pineapple bits...
And cranberries.
The roasted cashews are over priced.
I replaced them with Brazil,
The shells were so thick...
I got tired of cracking them into bits.
I tried to go without.
As I walked about with nothing to munch.
I prefer a quick snack,
Over a fast food lunch.
Apples and bananas also satisfy.
Or strips of carrots and celery...
To make the long hours of the day fly by.
I once did a vanilla icecream drink.
With Strawberries, bananas and orange juice.
That was good too!
Although the cashews provided the missing link.
Yes...
Gone are my nuts.
The ones I mixed up,
With raisins, dried pineapple bits...
And cranberries.
I don't know what it is...
But that seems to be the 'fix' for me.
As I age and become more aware,
How wonderful I feel...
Being as healthy as I can be!
Even if I have to do without cashews,
In this stressful ridden economy!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Why? In loneliness we keep doing things
like lima beans,
loneliness ripens and from its pods
things begin to drop
soundlessly on top of the grass
the season change
and the pods rot and the beans dry in the sun
and gets wet in the rain
and then something sprouts again
another form of lonely lima beans
grow on the soil
loneliness begets loneliness
and forever keeps the cycle
the world knows this
in fact, it is this that keeps it going.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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We Are The Vegetables
Well I've got this feeling in the back of my head
I feel like making someone's face turn red
Learning bike's and ditto vices
Try to look bored and your going places
We are the vegetables
We are the vegetables
We are the vegetables
We are the vegetables
Some music is playing by metal gazers
It's gone through the stage where everyone makes it
Do you think that we're not good
All I really know is I think you should
We are the vegetables
We are the vegetables
We are the vegetables
We are the vegetables
Well I've got this feeling in the back of my head
I feel like making someone's face turn red
Learning bikes and ditto vices
Try to look bored and your going places
We are the vegetables
We are the vegetables
We are the vegetables
We are the
We are the
We Are The Vegetables
Submitted by Michael Hack
song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Imagine
This came about because of the growing hatred level in my College
Imagine a world without anger or hate
Imagine bigotry, intolerance and racism become obsolete
Imagine a world without Heaven or Hell
Imagine a world without borders or possession
Imagine a world without hungry or murder
Imagine a world that isn't imaginary
Imagine an imaginary world materializing
Can you live without hate?
Can you live with love?
Can you live in peace?
Can you Metal Head, stand with hand with Juggalo?
Would you even let this world come to form?
Or would you let it remain an idea?
Imagine a world where we don't die waiting for care
Imagine a world where we don't kill each other for land
Imagine a world where we don't care about language
Imagine a world where we don't kill the children anymore
Can you live this way?
Would you want to?
Can you?
Would you?
Would you really?
I may be a dreamer, but I feel like the only one
poem by Electric Tripp
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No Child
I HEARD in the night the pigeons
Stirring within their nest:
The wild pigeons' stir was tender,
Like a child's hand at the breast.
I cried 'O stir no more!
(My breast was touched with tears).
O pigeons, make no stir
A childless woman hears.'
poem by Padraic Colum
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Trying to Find Legitimate Conversation
Until someone comes along,
To declare me officially crazed and mentally unfit...
I will continue to talk to myself,
With and in complete confidence...
As I care less if this is done in public.
Yes.
Tired I have grown of trying to find,
Legitimate conversation that is intelligent.
And debating with others,
Who themselves seem to be in conflict...
With my correctness that agitates and affects them.
~Why-oh-why-oh...
Does this phenomenon occurs,
Is a mystery to me.~
And I am not the only one,
Who has come to grips with this issue.
No I'm not.
There are several others in my neighborhood,
Fed up as well.
With varying degrees of upsetness they express.
Yes.
Although...
I am more discreet.
Never will I wave my hands in the air.
Acting like I just don't care.
To be seen in the streets.
Or shouting obscenities to people I meet.
No!
That's not me.
And frankly I've noticed how unsettling this can be,
To those people witnessing this as they pass by...
Giving this kind of behavior their attention.
I refuse to be labelled 'nuts'.
But I do admit...
I have had my moments with a few trees.
Some of them have tried to dominate my conversations.
And I'm not about to apologize,
For anything offensive I've said to them either.
I don't care how stubborn or unmoving they can get.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Imagine the World
Imagine the world ……………………….
Imagine the world without wars…
Imagine the world without your laws
Imagine your life without fear
Imagine your eyes without a tear
Imagine all men were real men
Imagine…imagine…imagine…
Imagine life without hate
Imagine you knew your own fate
Imagine all children were happy
Imagine all nations were free
What would life be like?
Imagine no-one were blind
Imagine all the woes behind
Imagine…….imagine……..imagine….
Imagi ne earth were flat
Imagine man without a heart
Imagine the day without light
Imagine the dark without the night
Imagine……….imagine……imagine……
Imagine faces without a smile
Imagine birds without a nightingale
Imagine …imagine…imagine
What would life be like?
poem by Bouche Cousue
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The Snatchers
When I was a kid,
And at noon hungry,
My mother gave me
A bit of bread
And I ate moving
In the street only in a shirt,
And sometime went
To the farther end of the street
But the crows
Sitting on the surrounding walls
Or edges of the roofs dived
One of them snatched the piece
And other cawed on the walls,
Or in the trees or on the roofs.
I returned weeping and wailing
Clang to my mother,
Who wiped my tears
With a corner of her clout
And gave me an other,
Reprimanding that I should eat
Sitting beside her
While she churned milk;
And I sat in her shade
In the dusty courtyard
Extending my naked legs on the ground
And ate the piece with relish.
Now I am a grown up man,
My mother has passed away
No one is to wipe my tears,
I earn my bread
The crows still dive to snatch the pieces,
But now they do not caw on the walls,
Or in the trees or on the roofs.
But they sit either on a throne,
In the assembly or senate halls
Or chambers of commerce
Or live in the societies of defence.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Botanically speaking, tomatoes are the fruit of a vine, just as are cucumbers, squashes, beans and peas.
quote by Horace Gray
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fish Pound and Violin
My grandpa stay in the house
Near the river
Where its water flow end in the South Ocean
His garden hedged with Bamboo trees
In front of the garden planted three tuft trees
The children like to climb the tuft tree
Pick up the fruits and eat on the tree
Glad and laughing
My grandpa was silent and said nothing
He just smile subtly, and gaze at far away
There is a fish pond in the backyard,
In its edge planted pineapple and banana trees
My grandma always give brand and papaya leaf to the pound
Giving food for the fish like Gurame, Sepat dan Nila,
While my grandpa make a biola, gitar and bass
In the litlle studio, near the kitchen
I passionatedly gaze the fish jump around
And glad
While they don’t know their destiny
Decided by mothers in the cities
On the frying pan, roastibng, caserate,
With imagine to ecpanced their plan on the rice filed
Near the road forgeted how farmer produce,
Fish, rice and vegetable,
And actually
Their Self conscience.
poem by Prasetya Utama
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Imagine
Imagine information in the palm of your hand.
Imagine the knowledge of a library at your command.
Imagine all books written just a touch away.
Imagine all media at your finger tip each day.
Imagine a device that causes a mental revolution.
Imagine how it calculates with instant execution.
Imagine a discovery rivaling all human means.
Imagine its place in the mapping of genes.
Imagine where this miracle will take mankind.
Imagine unimaginables there still are to find.
Imagine love ruling the world some day.
Imagine how mankind could then find its lost way.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Imagine Angels
imagine angels.
imagine a bolt of lightning
out of the blue so blue
striking a tree
a few feet away
imagine a thunderstorm
remaining overhead all night
imagine a summer dawn arising
as if for the first time on the earth
imagine cats and dogs whimpering
as the ground trembles
with the approaching earthquake
imagine the equation for space-time
there in the mind as you wake
imagine the death of children
imagine the birth of children
imagine the first love
of your lover
imagine a joy beyond detachment
imagine a detachment beyond joy
imagine angels
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Oranges On Apple Trees
Oranges on apple trees
Birds that mate with bumblebees
Oranges on apple trees
Water comes and water goes
Where it ends up no one really knows
Water rises, water falls
Where it comes from no one knows for sure
It seeps from every pore
We have seen the rain before
Not like this - its flooding every shore
People come and people go
I can hear their laughter through the door
But no ones keeping score
Oranges on apple trees
Birds that mate with bumblebees
One big happy family
Endless possibilities
(yeah and more)
Oranges and apple trees
I see your face in front of me
Cant believe what no one else could see
I feel it deep inside of me
Everything we love shall be released
And everyone will see
Oranges on apple trees (for sure)
I used to be the only one
Not now since youve come
You and I have seen the signs
Thats why the wind died
The wind died
Thats why oranges on apple trees
Birds that mate with bumblebees
Endless possibilities (now)
Oranges on apple trees
All the things that we can see
Multi-gender wannabes
Oranges on apple trees
Birds that mate with bumblebees
One big happy family
Endless possibilities (yeah yeah yeah)
Oranges on apple trees (for sure)
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New To The Neighborhood
I know you are new to the neighborhood.
And with that said...
I would caution you not to make any attempts,
To treat the other squirrels you see around here...
With respect or hints of it.
Since...
If you permit yourself to do that...
You just might find your nuts cracked.
'That's fine with me.
Isn't that the purpose?
I would consider that a neighborly act of unity.
And if I may admit this...
Sometimes it would be nice to sit and relax.
Knowing that another squirrel would do that for me.
And I didn't have to scratch any squirrel's back,
To keep my own nuts protected.'
Yeah...
You're new.
You've taken my comments...
Too far out on branches dislocated from the trees.
You must be a rehabilitated nut crusher?
Have you just been released,
From those Scotch Pines behind the Maples?
'No!
I'm a realist.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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City Pigeons
Around my boots where I am sitting crumbs of bread they happily eat
The cheeky and colourful City pigeons so at home on the city street
Their cousins the rock pigeons of the Northlands in Town would feel so out of place
They once were the very same species though now quite a different race.
Introduced by humans to cities all around the World in busy towns they feel at home
Beyond the borders of suburbia the city pigeons seldom do roam
They build their flimsy nests of sticks on building ledges their young they hatch out in the Spring
Like their ancestors on trees they do not roost or nest Nature is such a wonderful thing.
Some people they like and feed the city pigeons whilst others do not like them at all
Though Nature cares for all of her children from the very great to the small
And wild-born things can be so adaptable in noisy environments they they've learned to dwell
The city pigeons of this one example in cities they do very well.
By the street seat around my boots they eat bread crumbs like house sparrows they are almost tame
They were born and raised in the city to be good at surviving their one claim to fame
Liked by some and disliked by others but that they are good at surviving none can deny
They are born and raised in the noisy city and in the city they do die.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Sallys Pigeons
When I was eight I had a friend
With a pirate smile
Make believe and play pretend
We were innocent and wild
Hopped a fence and slammed the gate
Running down my alleyway
In time to watch sallys pigeons fly
We loved to watch them dive and soar
Circle in the sky
Free as a bird from three to four
And never knowing why
Neighbors pulled their wash back in
Put away my barbie and ken
Look out overhead
While sallys pigeons fly
I had a fools confidence
That the world had no boundaries
But instincts and common sense
Come in different quantities
My heart began to
Skip to the beat
Of the boy next door
She had her eye across the street
On someone shy and tall
We lived our dreams
And challenged fate
In tears she told me she was late
And sally let his pigeons out to fly...
On the dresser sits a frame
With a photograph
Two little girls in ponytails
Some twenty one years back
She left one night with just a nod
Was lost from some back alley job
I close my eyes and sallys pigeons fly
She never saw those birds again
And me, I cant remember when
A pirate smile hasnt made me cry
I close my eyes
And sallys pigeons fly...
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When We Live to Learn and Respect
When we live to learn and respect,
All benefits of life to us are given.
And we are able to succeed,
Through any circumstance.
It seems to me...
Over the many years of my own observation,
Those who know love are the most successful.
Whether blessed to have a yacht...
Or sitting in a park tossing peanuts to pigeons.
When we live to learn and respect,
All benefits of life to us are given.
And we are able to succeed,
Through any circumstance.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Pigeons
My pigeons.
these, who live
in the birdhouse,
(for
pets)
are not at all “my” pigeons.
I am not there during the day.
And I cannot recognize myself.
At night they talk to each other.
I understand that this is so,
when in the room with my pigeons
I am met by a big blue eye.
They shyly grow quiet.
Please,
Do not be concerned.
They get along just fine.
poem by Bozhidar Pangelov
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