National Split Pea Soup Week
has passed its midpoint
without incident
haiku by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Talk Soup
I dated siamese twins
I slept with bigfoot, too
Get me on sally jesse
Put me on donahue
cause I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
My dogs a narcoleptic
My moms a circus freak
I gotta get a spot on
Geraldos show this week
cause I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
Im just an anorexic codependant bingo addict
Stripper born without a chin
And Im only comfortable talking about it
When the whole wide world is listening in
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
My wife ran off with elvis
My boss shaved off my hair
Ive got a thing for poodles
And rubber underwear
And I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
I had a close encounter
I never chew my food
I got eleven nose jobs
I yodel in the nude
And I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
Im just a cross-dressin alcoholic neo-nazi
Porno star, as you may have guessed
And Im really gonna feel a whole lot better
If you let me get this thing off my chest
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Im just your average schizophrenic nymphomaniac
Albino go-go dancer, you see
Nothin so bad that I cant share it
With a billion friends on national tv, whoa...
I have no genitalia
I sold my kids for cheese
I love my blow up doll, so
Bring out those cameras, please
cause I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soup Of The Day
Well she thinks shes looking so cool
She thinks shes great but shes just a fool
What awful lack of class makes this kind behave this way
I look and only think of one thing to say
Soup, shes just soup
Soup of the day
Shes thin around the waistline
Thin around the brain
You see this type so many times
Time and time again
How could they really think
Theyd be treated in any other way
Everybodys looking and everybody say
Soup, shes just soup
Soup of the day
Well youd think theyd know better
That behaving in this way
They think theyre being clever
But I really have to say
Youd better think it over
Youll regret it one fine day
When the circus partys over
And you were just soup of the day
Shes just soup
Soup of the day
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For the last 3 years, we have celebrated National Nurses Week. Beginning on May 6, we will once again have the opportunity to truly commend the nursing community for their contributions to our national health delivery system.
quote by Nathan Deal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Split Moment Between..
the split moment between, when the tide comes in, and the tide goes out... that is god! the split moment between, the tears of a child, and the body of the old man being buried, that is god! the split moment between, the firing of the big guns, and the laying down of weapons, that is god! the split moment between, the firing of the revolver, and the prison door clanging shut, that is god! the split moment between, ejaculation and childbirth, that is god! the split moment between, the rise of a civilization, and its downfall, that is god! the split moment between, remorse, repentence, responsibility, and prayer, that is god! the split moment between, falling in love, and saying goodbye, that is god! the split moment between, nakedness and truth, that is god! the split moment between, loss and giving, that is god! the split moment between, darkness and dawn.... well you know!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With Fever The Day Has Passed
could not have a warm shower first
my wife said soup was getting cold
and the heat of the soup is good
for fever to bring out the sweat
perhaps my head is supposed
to burn
with fever the day has passed
in blessed sleep night has quiet
creeping come with this fever
light headed dizzy flying flu
is timeless in circles of energy
fleeting lapping gone
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Last Week
Oh, the new-chum went to the backblock run,
But he should have gone there last week.
He tramped ten miles with a loaded gun,
But of turkey of duck saw never a one,
For he should have been there last week,
They said,
There were flocks of 'em there last week.
He wended his way to a waterfall,
And he should have gone there last week.
He carried a camera, legs and all,
But the day was hot and the stream was small,
For he should have gone there last week,
They said,
They drowned a man there last week.
He went for a drive, and he made a start,
Which should have been made last week,
For the old horse died of a broken heart;
So he footed it home and he dragged the cart --
But the horse was all right last week,
They said,
He trotted a match last week.
So he asked all the bushies who came from afar
To visit the town last week
If the'd dine with him, and they said "Hurrah!"
But there wasn't a drop in the whisky jar --
You should have been here last week,
He said,
I drank it all up last week!
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I was wrong: So what. todays idiocy
I say that it’s impossible.
You cannot eat soup with chop sticks
Though it is highly probable.
Someone will try to prove he can.
To demonstrate his cleverness
and show he is a better man.
What will it prove should he succeed?
That I’m mistaken in my view.
I will be happy to concede
.
the victory to some buffoon.
Who can eat soup using chop sticks.
I still prefer to use a spoon.
I think soup should be eaten hot
I do not like cold soup a lot.
20/06/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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End Of The Week
I get out of work
And then I throw away all of my cares
I get out of work
And then I wash the week out my hair
Monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday
Its hard as could be
But by old friday evening
Were free, were free, were free
End of the week
The weekend started
Been working so hard to play
End of the week
Its time to party
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
Youre tasting freedom
No one to push you around
End of the week
And life has a reason
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
Street are alive
You know everybodys going somewhere
You put on the slide
You gotta beat the crowd just everywhere
And all the music all the dancing
Get you so high
And all that sweet romancing
Oh my, oh my, oh my
End of the week
The weekend started
Working so hard to play
End of the week
Its time to party
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
Feels good now
Feels good now
End of the week
End of the week
Its real good now
Real good now
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Week In Week Out
IIs there something more?
Surely there must be
You can't lose everything
So you're quite happy
To live with nothing more
Than a life-long shopping list
You tick off on credit
Well you'll pay for it
Week in and week out
Your lucky charms will always let you down
Maybe next week, we'll see
Maybe
You stand in life completely still
Feel really truly unfulfilled
Week in week out
Where are you going to turn?
When all ambition fails?
Why try any more
If human nature's stale?
Invite the hand of God
To touch the lucky few
There's no such thing as God
Nor easy money too?
Week in and week out
These lucky charms will always let you down
Maybe next week, we'll see
Maybe
You stand in life completely still
Feel really truly unfulfilled
Week in week out
Week in and week out
Your lucky charms will always let you down
Maybe next week, we'll see
Maybe
You stand in life completely still
Feel really truly unfulfilled
Week in week out
song performed by by Ordinary Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Ever It Is
There isn’t a day I don’t think of you
There isn’t a week tears don’t fall from my eyes
Cause for yet again another week passed by
That I’m not in your arms
There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you if you asked me to
Anything
Name your price
If it’s money you want
You’ll be rich
If it’s a big house you want
You’ll have the biggest in the state
If it’s fancy cars you want
You’ll have your own fleet
If it’s marijuana you want
You’ll have more then you could ever smoke
If it’s sex you need take it
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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MySelf
From the places I had been and rain that I felt
from the loneliness that conquer my soul leads to darkness,
yeah I did have friends,
I did have someone to share some
of my loneliness but why is it said
to be that my friends does wear mask
and the loneliness I own does not decrease
but increase
I did believe on them,
but as long as they haven't prove anything
as long as they haven't show me something
that belief starts to fade....
from the narrow path that
I had passed through from the fire on my soul
on the fear in my heart and a poison
on my brain that keeps telling me that I'm nobody.
No one understand me, they told me I'm weird but i just own some other beliefs that its really opposing or i mean my belief does have its own path and so as me... In this class i entered and so as previous ask them and me and the answers definitely the same
from the week I started I show nothing
the second week I show something
in the third week I show a lot of thing
in the fourth week i show nothing
again but as the second week passes
i will try and i will do show everything i got!
But the second week never came.
poem by Ellirie Aviles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shemally
It is flowing into the narrow stream,
But, who sets it freely as a will?
And like the water wine and the sour wine around you;
But, oh woman! ! Why are you now weeping?
To look in,
And like a sponge in the bathroom;
But the soldiers came in! !
And, it was on the first day of the week;
But, Shemally my friend came around to record this incident.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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First Week/last Week... Carefree
Can we run that again
Is that a womans voice I hear?
I said, lets wait and see. Ill see for myself
Thats a phrase I repeat
To myself
Made a reference to me and
Thats myself too
What progress I have made the first week
First week
First week
First week
Every sentence I use
Refer to women and their names
I heard the voice first last week
I heard it myself
Made a reference to me
Thats myself
This reports incomplete
I see for myself
Every appointment has been moved to last week
Last week
Last week
Last week
Oh...
Ah...
Oh...
I heard the voice first last week
I heard it myself
Made a reference to me
And thats myself
This reports incomplete
I see for myself
Every appointment has been been moved to last week
Last week
Last week
Last week
Oh...
Ah...
Oh...
song performed by by Talking Heads
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sky Seasoning
A piece of sky
Broke off and fell
Through the crack in the ceiling
Right into my soup,
KERPLOP!
I really must state
That I usually hate
Lentil soup, but I ate
Every drop!
Delicious delicious
(A bit like plaster),
But so delicious, goodness sake--
I could have eaten a lentil-soup lake.
It's amazing the difference
A bit of sky can make.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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National Front Disco (live)
David, the wind blows,
The wind blows
Bits of your life away.
Your friends all say,
"Where is our boy?
Ah, we've lost our boy".
But they should know,
Where you've gone,
Because again and again you've explained
That you're going to . . .
Oh, oh, oh, going to . . .
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
"England for the English",
"England for the English".
David, the wind's blown,
The wind's blown
All of my dreams away.
And I still say,
"Where is our boy?
Ah, we've lost our boy".
But I should know
Why you've gone,
Because again and again you've explained
You're going to the National . . .
Ah, to the National . . .
There's a country,
You don't live there,
But one day you would like to.
And if you show them what you're made of,
Ah, then you might do.
But David, we wonder,
We wonder if the thunder
Is ever really gonna begin,
Begin, begin
Your mum says,
"I've lost my boy".
But she should know
Why you've gone,
Because again and again you've explained
You're going to the National,
To the National,
To the National Front disco,
Because you want the day to come sooner,
You want the day to come sooner,
You want the day to come sooner,
When you've settled the score.
Oh, the National,
Oh, the National,
Oh, the National,
Oh, the National,
Oh, the National
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What is character but the determination of incident? What is incident but the illustration of character?
quote by Henry James
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good seamanship is recovering from an incident at sea. Great seamanship is avoiding an incident at sea.
When I split an infinitive, God damn it, I split it so it will stay split.
quote by Raymond Chandler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We are sometimes made aware of a kindness long passed, and realize that there have been times when our friends' thoughts of us were of so pure and lofty a character that they passed over us like the winds of heaven unnoticed when they treated us not as what we were, but as what we aspired to be. -- from A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers
quote by Henry David Thoreau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soup of day
She said severely:
“God have said: the soup must be warm! ”
It was a Gazpacho, a cold soup to a warm evening.
I have mixed tomatos, cucumbers,
red and green peppers,
red onions, a few garlics,
a few parsleys and coriander.
This soup had a beautiful colour: red and green! green and red!
It was cold, very cold, iced.
I have warmed up her soup
I have grilled also some scallops
with a pistachio dressing
she said:
“It is delightful mostly the orange and red parts.”
It was only a question of colours
I have dreamt at a blue gazpacho, blue scallops
Blue like the sea but the sea is never blue
and the blue is not a tasty colour.
Then we have recited some french poems
This evening was quiet and tender
despite the heat wave.
I like to remember this iced soup
and the awful warmth.
poem by Jean Francois Le Goff
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