Leave Something to Nibble
Know you are deserving...
And you will be served!
If you wish to have dessert,
Select it with much verve.
Don't hesitate to enjoy,
Any leftovers on your plate.
You have already seasoned your dish,
And prepared it to your personal taste!
Relish this at your desire!
Knowing your request,
Has inspired the best of tests!
And motivated to satiate,
Those desires awaiting...
But not to consume,
Or indulge to excess!
Leave something to nibble.
Delight...
Between stops for rest!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Make No Attempt to Compliment
When the initiative is taken,
To inflict upon another heartbreak.
Expect to feel the remnants of it.
Or see bits and pieces served upon a plate.
Eat it.
With a hopeful wish...
There has been an invitation,
To taste dessert.
And what has been served,
Has been deserving.
And a forgiveness forthcoming,
Will be mutually delicious.
If expectations are there and desired,
To again share the same menu!
If not...
Make no attempt to compliment.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No One Is Left to Please You Like That
It's too late to have explanations,
Bared and on the table.
That was done when you said you had no appetite.
But I watched you reach for dessert.
And you had no problem...
Feeding yourself with sweets.
And now you wish for a dish of reality?
Small enough...
So you can pucker up and peck,
For the taste of it to please!
This is not off a menu to be requested.
Or is there anyone here,
Waiting for you to digest it!
This is it as it is...
Whether or not you accept it that way.
And scratched is the soft music,
With a candelabra displayed.
And the candles were plastic.
Not waxed as you requested for your charade...
You wished to parade with serenade.
No one is left to please you like that.
Not here!
Only truth is served.
Deserving of it or not.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When You Ask Me to Critique
When you ask me to critique,
With an opinion that is honest.
Don't expect me to deceive you...
With a sweetened tongue.
And the taste I leave you...
Hints of a bit of salt.
As you prepare to deliver to me pepper.
When you ask me to critique...
I go for the meat.
Not the heat,
When one may be wishing to be honey dipped.
Or perhaps thrown a kiss!
When you ask me to critique,
There is no sweetness dripped!
Unless the offering is fantastic.
And hits a spot I can not resist...
But sit,
And enjoy every nibble of it!
When you ask me to critique.
That's what I will do!
But I rather not to.
Since like you...
I don't enjoy everything I am served.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Now I Nibble
Where are my feet?
Once placed on solid ground.
Why am I now unsure of my steps?
When my eyes were directed,
To fresh places I found.
Why do I question,
My place in this World?
Where are those faces...
Once full with life,
I knew!
What has happened overnight,
When I once felt safe and secure...
My dreams and wishes,
Would stay fixed and motivated.
Strong with appetite!
Now I nibble...
When once accustomed to huge bites.
Now I nibble without a taste that delights.
Now I nibble just to keep my eyes,
From shutting tight!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Top Choice Steak
There is nothing wrong,
With someone acquiring a taste...
For chopped liver.
Smothered in olive oil,
And seasoned with carmelized onions.
I see nothing wrong with that at all.
Forked or finger pinched to nibble.
It's just the expectations of someone,
Assuming to consume me...
As a fantasy to feed on.
And whether or not they like what I've got...
I will be no one's chopped liver.
Especially when it took me too long,
To be recognized as top choice steak!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Three Wives Of A Mandarin
Lawful wife.
There is still some wine left in the chalice,
And the plate that’s served is nests of the swallows.
Since the birth of time, the legal spouse
Is respected by her mandarin-husband.
Concubine
There is still some wine left in the chalice,
And the plate is served – duck: fat and heavy;
Should a mandarin be deprived of children -
Concubine is needed for a mandarin.
Maid
There is still some wine left in the chalice,
And the plate is served - preserves and marmalade.
Why the two of you are in his house?
Every night a new woman he desires.
Mandarin
There is no more wine left in the chalice,
And the plate that’s served is hot red pepper.
Silence! O you: bunch of silly blabbers,
Dare you laughing at the poor old mandarin.
poem by Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Are You Ready?
Are you ready?
Action boy now
Action girl now
Be prepared to climb another mountain
Are you ready?
Action boy now
Action girl now
Be prepared to swim across the ocean
Are you ready?
Be prepared
To fill you plate
Be prepared
Dont hesitate
Be prepared
For a great big bust
Be prepared
To do what you must
Be prepared
To take a hit
Be prepared
To go for it
Be prepared
For a sneak attack
Be prepared
Just dont look back
They say, where theres a will theres a way
Weve heard, these are the things that they say
So.
Reach out for that big fat star
Stick to the groove
And go real far
Outrun the ones who steal the abar (? ? )
Are you ready?
Action boy now
Action girl now
Be prepared to blast into the future
Action boy now
Action girl now
Be prepared to rearrange the picture
Are you ready?
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Will Be There
No need for one to digest,
What is yet ready for one to order
From a selective menu.
When the appetite begins to crave...
The serving will be just as fresh,
The moment one gets it to devour.
Why sour one's taste,
For something that will sit on a plate...
Untouched without an interest,
To sample what is offered.
It will be there!
Whenever one comes,
And is prepared to indulge.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With A Rating To Leave
Why come to sit down at a table,
On a daily and regular basis...
With nothing brought to offer or share,
To equal or compare...
To that which has been prepared.
With a glaring at the setting to closely inspect,
As if to ensure a quality with standards...
Has been appropriately met.
Then with a nibble to finish and eat to complete,
All that has been served to digest.
Only to complain about those conversations,
Not suitable to meet your standards or taste...
You seem to regret.
And with a rating to leave,
You believe could and should be more impressive.
And yet,
When tomorrow comes...
You will be the first to arrive,
Again!
To judge, evaluate and not speak.
As if to imply the menu does not satisfy.
With a rating to leave to denote your presence.
Or a lack of it there to participate and engage.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Take the Fork
I take the fork,
And select what I choose to eat.
I sample the vegetables...
To then sip on juice or spring water.
I slice the meat with a knife.
I taste for seasoning.
To see if it pleases.
It does...
And I repeat.
I take the fork,
And select what I choose to eat.
I sample the vegetables...
To then sip on juice or spring water.
I slice the meat with a knife.
I taste for seasoning.
To see if it pleases.
It does...
And I repeat.
I might have dessert,
With coffee.
I use a spoon,
If icecream is served.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Your 'Weight' Is Beginning To Show
Fame.
Name recognition...
And success.
Hmmm...
Let's see.
I'll try some of that.
With a side order of...
This.
But not too much.
And...
A lot of that with relish.
But,
I do have a request.
Is it possible to get a taste of all of that,
Without anyone knowing...
I'm the one that will be feeding off of this?
And have been for awhile now.
You see...
I don't want anyone to notice,
I'm carrying all this 'weight' around.
'We'll do our best to keep your secret.
But,
I must say this...
Your 'weight' is beginning to show.'
Well...
I do hope it's in the right places.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Buttered Peas With Crushed Red Pepper
Don't take the peas up off my plate.
That irritates.
Don't even think about sneaking them.
They are there for me to eat.
And I want every pea,
Left for me to satiate.
I buttered them to taste.
With baby onions they taste great.
Fix your eyes in another place.
Back your nose up off my plate.
Buttered peas with crushed red pepper.
Fix your eyes in another place.
No other buttered bean or pea taste better.
Take your eyes up off my plate.
I buttered them to taste.
With baby onions they taste great.
Buttered peas with crushed red pepper.
Take your eyes up off my plate.
And don't your think about sneaking a pea!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Baited By Ratings (The Defamation Game)
Baited by ratings,
And driven to satiate...
The entertainment of news.
And what and who produces the best,
Net worth.
At the sacrifice of substance.
Feeding those obstinate.
With desires that are decadent.
Baited by ratings,
And driven to satiate...
Public revelations,
Of those raise to heights.
Those selected to be judged and smeared.
By those electing to delight from the blight.
Baited by ratings,
And driven to satiate...
On gossip that's dropped.
With nonstop dollars...
Given to the media on top,
Of the defamation game.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He Doesn't Want To Be Nagged For Petty Things!
The prayer of bringing up to the clouds,
The invention of airplanes by the wrights,
The plea of knowing the welfare of kiths and kins,
The holding of tablet in both hands to see and appease,
The request of having high abode, good salary and fine clothes,
Granted in excess to strive for better and then sloth,
The desire to have good food, drink and health care,
Available in abundant in various branded fair,
The super powers of the world blessed the selected,
To have all these comforts for not to be nagged,
But taken away the peace from them for them to go back,
To kneel and cry for the peace they have lost in Hammocks,
That tied between two trees of lust and greed,
Up from the ground, in the middle of the air,
With the foundation of flimsy materialistic desires.
Now peace is the only request, plea and the dream,
With which Gods of Heaven may be comfortable with,
Not to be disturbed with multiple confusing begs and beseeches.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Purpose
I can be self absorbed and consumed.
And be conscious of every moment of it.
Especially if I feel deserving...
And not ignored like some do others,
Who are believed to be swept off their feet...
With a protected image to keep.
Like me,
Some may perceive.
And a success,
That has yet achieved placing judgement status.
Feeding heard giggles and whispers,
From...
Those awaiting in attack,
With a delivery that feeds people like that!
Cracking up on drug induced mentalities.
What I have learned from being motivated...
By people like these,
Is that an energy that comes from within...
Isn't always there,
Heard and nurtured from the outside.
In fact,
Being self absorbed and consumed...
May be the best contact that keeps one,
Driven to achieve...
With an escaping discipline that succeeds.
And knowing,
Those awaiting in attack...
Seem to deliver and feed on that!
Giving a strengthen determination,
More to craved!
Just to satisfy a peace one keeps,
Away from public scutiny!
To feed one's mentality,
Purpose.
Purpose.
Purpose!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Wishes Would Be Limited
What I want...
Has a lot to do with you.
If I was not inspired,
By your desires...
My wishes would be limited.
I admit that.
And it is true.
You provide an insight,
That enlightens.
And brings a brightness to my heart.
You may not be aware of this.
You may even dismiss it!
If I should address or mention it!
Yet...
What I want...
Has a lot to do with you.
If I was not inspired,
By your desires...
My wishes would be limited.
I admit that.
And it is true.
I may not be on your mind at all.
And that is not a request,
I sit with in wishes.
However you do it...
And by the way you get that done,
Has a quality.
And for me from you...
That is all I need!
You 'are' who you are.
And that alone feeds me.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As I Enjoy the Joy of Knowing You
AS I ENJOY THE JOY OF KNOWING YOU
Nestor endured two hundred years despair
Awaiting joy, anticipating you.
Tristan Isolde took within his care
As compensation for not knowing you.
Sweet Capulet with Montagu did share,
Hero Lysander loved, - both ill did fare,
As neither knew the joy of knowing you.
Nature rests its case, perfection fair,
As now I know the joy of knowing you.
To be! - a miracle beyond compare,
As I enjoy the the joy of knowing you.
Soul sends to soul, serenity to share
Here on this earth as shed is every care,
All through true joy of knowing you for YOU!
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flaming Dragon Curry
On the menu, I spotted Flaming Dragon Curry,
But, to try this dish, I am in no particular hurry;
It has onions, red peppers, and chicken (diced) ,
Steeped in seasoning, herbs, and Indian spice.
I'd probably be sitting there with streaming eyes:
For me to try this dish, I think, would not be wise.
As well as watery eyes, my mouth would be on fire;
Neither of which is a sensation I particularly desire.
Five red chillies indicated it was the hottest dish there;
Certainly way too hot for my taste-buds to ever bear.
I consider that this curry is only for the very brave;
It is certainly not a dish that I would ever crave.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Am Inspired, Are You?
inspiration is not desired
to be inspired
it is discovered
and authored
it is rewarded
and guarded
by the power to live
the hour to give
an inspired
soul a sense to express,
so, i am inspired
now,
are you?
if so,
spread your wings
and fly
within you,
reach out your hands
and touch the sky
(and beyond)
stay motivated
and inspired...
if not, ask why not yourself?
why not you inspired from yours' sense?
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cultivate Desire And Ego
Without desire, the world is dry.
Without ego the life is dry.
Desires promote activities.
Activities bring about taste.
The ego plays in maneuvering.
Maneuvering results in esteems.
Without taste and without esteems,
Being will be a waste of life.
Desires denied, sufferings come.
Esteem beaten, feeling low mounts.
Low risk desire is worth having.
Easy task ego too satisfies.
Desires parting, you are worn out.
Ego falling flat, you are blown out.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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