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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Related quotes
Upon the Table of Fulfilled Wishes
Teach me not to nibble and feed,
On an appetite of my own selfish needs.
I am seeking a new diet,
That inspires a fresh insight.
With a brightness that incites,
A joyous excitement.
Teach me to appreciate all that I am.
Help me reach out to others...
To awaken that view,
Enabling them to see 'that' within them too!
If you've come to teach me greed.
Teach me to crave the gluttony of happiness.
Teach me to instruct others...
Deception is not a taste,
To welcome with an invitation...
At this grand feast to take place!
Teach me not to nibble and feed,
On an appetite of my own selfish needs.
Teach me to know that my happiness and joy...
Can only be fed,
If others are encouraged to also share.
Bringing with them a dish...
To spread upon the table of fulfilled wishes,
In this season of blessings to caress!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Nibble
Nibble...
The food and eat...
Nibble..
Food...
Little and little...
For your mouth...
Eat...slow...
Nibble...
Nib ble is
Not tasty bite...
A healthy bite...
For the stomach
With your body...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Gonna Live My Life For The Love Of It
Not gonna deal with the BS no more.
Or with the dirt left at my front door.
No more, no more, no more...
No more, no more!
Not gonna fight against ignorance.
Or with conditions that present it.
No more, no more, no more...
No more, no more!
I've grown to want a better appetite.
I like.
For my life.
Without a bit of blight,
To nibble off a piece of it...
To satisfy my hungered sight!
I've grown to want a better appetite.
I like.
For my life.
And spiced my way,
With a taste I can say is for me...
Done just right!
Not gonna fight against ignorance.
Or with conditions that present it.
No more, no more, no more...
No more, no more!
I've grown to want a better appetite.
I like.
For my life.
Without a bit of blight,
To nibble off a piece of it!
I've grown to want a better appetite.
I like.
With a taste I can say is for me...
Done just right!
No more, no more, no more...
Denying it.
No more, no more, no more...
Refusing it.
No more, no more, no more...
Unhappiness.
Gonna live my life for the love of it.
Today and always.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Can't Buy Another Lie
I can't buy another lie to tie up my life.
No.
My diet wont treat it.
I can't buy another lie,
To nibble and try.
No I can't buy another lie to tie up my life.
No.
My diet wont treat it.
I can't buy another lie,
To nibble and try.
With a slice of apple pie and cider on the side,
And a piece of tainted meat...
Isn't good for one to eat.
It sticks and stays in between clean teeth.
With a slice of apple pie and cider on the side,
And a piece of tainted meat...
Isn't good for one to eat.
It sticks and stays in between clean teeth.
No I can't buy another lie to tie up my life.
No.
My diet wont treat it.
I can't buy another lie,
To nibble and try.
Whomever's in the kitchen mixing more tricks to fix,
I can't buy another lie to nibble and try.
Whomever's in the kitchen fixing more tricks to mix,
I can't buy another lie to nibble and try.
Whomever's in the kitchen mixing more tricks to fix,
I can't buy another lie to nibble and try.
Whomever's in the kitchen fixing more tricks to mix,
I can't buy another lie to nibble and try.
I can't buy another lie to tie up my life.
No.
My diet wont treat it.
I can't buy another lie,
To nibble and try.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Enjoying the Feast of It
Some write,
Showing an ineptness as an appetite.
Enjoying the feast of it.
Without a nibble digested.
Or a taste of it comprehended.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Too Satisfied Just To Nibble
Strange are those days,
I see changing.
Strange,
Are those appetites.
Some people love to nibble on life.
Not to eat it up,
But to spit out pieces of it they don't like!
Strange are those days,
I see changing.
Strange,
Are those appetites.
So much abundance is out there,
But they see limits.
Abundance is out there,
But they choose limits!
And bondage,
To capitalize on those inhibitions.
Some people love to nibble on life.
Not to eat it up,
But to spit out pieces of it they don't like!
Strange are those days,
I see changing.
Strange,
Are those appetites.
So much abundance is out there,
But they see limits.
So much abundance is out there,
But they see limits.
So much abundance is out there,
But some.
Are too satisfied just to nibble.
Strange are those days,
I see changing.
Strange,
Are those appetites.
So much abundance is out there,
But they see limits.
So much abundance is out there,
But they see limits.
So much abundance is out there,
But some.
Are too satisfied just to nibble.
Too satisfied just to nibble!
In the heavens there's abundance and there are no limits.
In the heavens there's abundance and there are no limits.
In the heavens there's abundance and there are no limits.
In the heavens.
In the heavens.
In the heavens.
But some.
Are too satisfied just to nibble.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Uncomfortable 'Is' The Silence
As I sit pondering,
With your eyes fixed...
And gazing strangely,
At my giblets.
I wonder...
To myself,
Of course.
Is this the season,
I should use?
Will the appetite ignite excitement?
Is that why your eyes remain fixed,
Because my giblets sit...
Crocked,
Without a top?
And no heat to increase the ingredients?
My mind is not the only thing unplugged!
Are the onions, carrots and celery chopped?
No...
They are not,
As a turkey lays baking...
Awaiting a stuffing mix,
I have yet to prepare...
Because I forgot!
And there is no sign from me given,
I am ready to start?
Oh so uncomfortable is the silence,
As I am without explanation...
As to 'why' this Christmas dinner,
Will be late to serve.
Uncomfortable 'is' the silence!
And I wonder...
Should I,
Plug in the crock?
Without the lid on top?
Or not?
And is the staring I get,
Deserved?
Uncomfortable is the silence.
And not a snack to munch,
Is on a platter placed...
From which munchies are crunched,
To tease a nibble to taste.
What a waste.
Uncomfortable is the silence,
When hor d'oeuvres are not presented to offer.
Now I can understand,
Why eyes are fixed...
And glaring.
Since nothing...
Not even a carol heard playing.
Or chestnuts roasting on an open fire,
Can quench the thirst...
For intentions meant with desire,
But gone undelivered.
Unconcomfortable 'is' the silence.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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
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A Choice For Specifics....
take a little
of this
crispiness,
throw that creepy
creature over the window
smell violets, feel
smooth porcelain
taste honey and
a grain of this universe
found in salt
spill sour,
nibble.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Wasting It On Wishes
Never again will I view my disappointments as man made.
I use to believe my wishes had to meet someone's approval.
Before I could express my happiness.
Now it is so clear...
My happiness has to be expressed.
Whatever the outcome and throughout the process.
How can I rely on someone giving to me,
What inside of me I am not feeding?
Or digesting as that which belongs.
I want what I deserve served to stay.
I've learned to nibble each spice of life I like.
It prolongs the taste.
And wasting it on wishes for someone else...
To define,
Was an awakening I found...
Left me impatiently waiting.
With preferences.
Picked and selected.
For me?
And I had my own menu right in my hands.
All of it prepared to my specifications....
If I noticed?
Finally,
In time I did.
Once I maintained my focus.
And relied on choices I made.
Whether some pleased or not.
And if something I was to eat,
Came to meet my satisfaction...
Indecisiveness of doubts,
Would have to dropp and be stopped.
And finally...
In time,
'They' did!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If It Is There To Be Given I Am Here To Receive
Can you give me something more,
Than less than your professed best?
I've been waiting to be impressed...
Since you let it known,
When you 'try'...
You can produce much better.
At least show me the evidence you are trying.
I wouldn't be such a pest.
But you were the one who stated,
I knew nothing about good taste.
Okay...
I'm done with your serving of appetizers.
I am now prepared to nibble on the main event.
If it is there to be given I am here to receive.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Don't Nibble With a Quibble Missed
Eliminate steps you waste.
And move on the case,
To do what it takes...
To make it!
Eliminate steps you waste.
And move on the case,
To do what it takes...
To make it!
Decide to say goodbye...
To all your trials and denials,
Served on a plate.
As you wait in hesitation,
To nibble...
With a quibble missed.
Decide it's much too late...
To celebrate a fate,
Some wish to fizzle!
To make you miserable!
Eliminate steps you waste.
And move on the case,
To do what it takes...
To make it!
There's nothing to it,
But to do it!
Eliminate steps you waste.
And move on the case,
To do what it takes...
To make it!
Prove that you can do it!
And...
Eliminate steps you waste.
And move on the case,
To do what it takes...
To make it!
Don't nibble,
With a quibble missed.
Decide it's much too late...
To celebrate a fate,
Some wish to fizzle!
To make you miserable!
It's your fate.
It's never too late.
Don't be so miserable!
It's your fate.
It's never too late.
Don't be so miserable!
It's your fate.
It's never too late.
Don't be so miserable!
Don't nibble,
With a quibble missed.
It's your fate.
It's never too late.
Don't be so miserable!
It's your fate.
It's never too late.
Don't be so miserable!
It's your fate.
It's never too late.
Don't be so miserable!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Stroke
Let me stroke
Your face
With my
Feet ~
For I know
You have a
Foot-fetish.
You can
Nibble my
Toes…
If you feel
Peckish ;)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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In It And Not Of It
Being in it and not of it,
Can still nibble away at one's gut.
Being distant and cut off from it,
May prevent one's suffering.
But...
Those memories have a way to linger.
And emotions felt deep,
Are never too far away.
One can choose to refuse to acknowledge them.
But how far away should one stay,
Without being followed...
By what has been experienced.
Or the degrading taking place,
Of that which has been observed.
And accepted by those,
Who have chosen to dance...
Effectively around its existence.
As if to glorify the remnants,
Of its staying power to remain unchanged...
To improve upon appearances,
With an approval that appeases.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Daily Appetizers
The best way to generate an interest,
With a focus fixed on an enemy.
Is to create one.
With bits that are fed in doses that increase.
Division, chaos and promoted conflicts,
Have proven there are those...
Who are skilled with unquestionable expertise,
In fields to undermine the advantages of peace.
And the best are solicited, hired and paid,
To ensure fear and hatred are daily appetizers.
With many becoming more unafraid,
To go beyond their temptations to nibble and taste.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Good Is What You Need To Feed
Close your eyes.
Remove disturbances from your care.
Care less where you put them.
Just know they aren't there.
To stare and haunt your composure.
Silence the race within you.
Gently inhale and exhale your wishes.
Send them to become delivered.
And do not wait.
They need time to make them come true.
For you!
They will.
As soon as you begin to release impatience.
And exercise your desires.
Kindle that flame that sets a fire to them.
Feed your mind this in solitude.
Nourish your life with that which you like!
Let go of any bits of vindictiveness that may sit...
To visit and discomfort!
You want happiness to attract.
Let go of tit-for-tat spats that nibble on your good!
And good is what you need to feed,
Your dreams!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Whipping Something In My Kitchen
When the Sun wakes me up.
And it is at the crack of dawn?
I feel it appropriate,
On some days...
To lay in bed and enjoy it my way.
Using the mind all the time,
Is a 'burning-out-of-mind' doer.
And I had been done...
To be 'done' to do that over again!
With a winning of 'anything' as a destination.
I longer deliver to myself those messages.
When the Sun wakes me up.
And it is at the crack of dawn?
I feel it appropriate,
On some days...
To lay in bed and enjoy it my way.
And do nothing but...
Whatever I wish.
And do nothing but...
Nibble a bit.
And do nothing but...
Chip and dip!
If I'm not whipping up,
Something in the kitchen.
Or do nothing but...
Whatever I wish.
And do nothing but...
Nibble a bit.
And do nothing but...
Chip and dip!
If I'm not whipping up,
Something in the kitchen.
Using the mind all the time,
Is a 'burning-out-of-mind' doer.
And I had been done...
To be 'done' to do that over again!
With a 'I Have To Win' attitude.
I longer deliver to myself those messages.
When the Sun wakes me up.
And it is at the crack of dawn?
I feel it appropriate,
On some days...
To lay in bed and enjoy it my way.
And do nothing but...
Whatever I wish.
And do nothing but...
Nibble a bit.
And do nothing but...
Chip and dip!
If I'm not whipping up,
Something in the kitchen.
Or do nothing but...
Whatever I wish.
And do nothing but...
Nibble a bit.
And do nothing but...
Chip and dip!
If I'm not whipping up,
Something in the kitchen.
I wish you could see me whipping something in my kitchen.
I wish you could see me whipping something in my kitchen.
I wish you could see me whipping something in my kitchen.
I wish you could see me.
I wish you could see me,
I wish you could see me whipping something in my kitchen.
I wish you could see me whipping something in my kitchen.
I wish you could see me whipping something in my kitchen.
I wish you could see me.
I wish you could see me,
I wish you could see me whipping something in my kitchen.
I wish you could see me whipping something in my kitchen.
I wish you could see me whipping something in my kitchen.
I wish you could see me.
I wish you could see me,
Right now!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Everyday
Everyday...
There is some teasing temptation,
That comes along.
Something craved...
To test how strong,
The urge.
To unnerve any courage,
One believes is in reserve.
Everyday...
It becomes harder,
Just to stay away.
To stray from what is right...
Develops into a struggle,
That seems to delight an inner battle!
And the wrong thing provokes,
To please a 'demon' that jokes.
We trust something valued,
Comes to thrust us to wake up!
Before we take a bite...
To satisfy an increasing appetite!
We try to keep it hidden...
But then,
Everyday...
We try to leave whatever it is untouched.
Something inside of us,
Says it 'wants' very much!
We nibble until it is devoured.
And helplessly we sit...
Regretting every moment,
We allowed ourselves to be licked...
By 'it'!
And everyday that passes.
We try to get over it!
And we do...
To say,
'Never again! '
Until...
We are faced,
With that day...
It becomes easier to pray away,
Those cravings that come we taste.
And enjoy,
Everyday!
To ease away any annoyance,
That has been determined...
Came to be done!
Leaving us with a guilt,
We slowly let subdue us...
But not to completely overcome.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Want To Know That You Will Munch
If it is going to be from me stated,
Not a syllable connected...
Has been chosen in haste.
I do not intend to waste time.
Neither yours or mine.
Throwing anything together,
To satisfy a taste.
I don't want you just to nibble.
I want to know that you will munch.
If I find there is something important to say,
And I regard you as an important receiver?
I am not going to select anything quickly,
To pick and appease what I believe,
Will be acceptable to your taste.
I am not that kind of chef.
To deliver less than my best
If what I say is important enough to say to you,
That importance I show to you I wish to keep.
I want you to expect each time a feast from me.
And if that is not believed...
I have no other way to convince.
Other than to ignore you.
And I perceive you have been already,
Accustomed to that.
Or you wouldn't be so offended,
By the closeness of my approach.
Or my willingness to remain attached.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Caterpillar
Under this loop of honeysuckle,
A creeping, coloured caterpillar,
I gnaw the fresh green hawthorn spray,
I nibble it leaf by leaf away.
Down beneath grow dandelions,
Daisies, old-man’s-looking-glasses;
Rooks flap croaking across the lane.
I eat and swallow and eat again.
Here come raindrops helter-skelter;
I munch and nibble unregarding:
Hawthorn leaves are juicy and firm.
I’ll mind my business: I’m a good worm.
When I’m old, tired, melancholy,
I’ll build a leaf-green mausoleum
Close by, here on this lovely spray,
And die and dream the ages away.
Some say worms win resurrection,
With white wings beating flitter-flutter,
But wings or a sound sleep, why should I care?
Either way I’ll miss my share.
Under this loop of honeysuckle,
A hungry, hairy caterpillar,
I crawl on my high and swinging seat,
And eat, eat, eat—as one ought to eat.
poem by Robert Graves
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