Among Servants
I was led beside the table,
To be contemplated;
I was in great calm,
My combination of food
Persisted in excellence.
I came from the queerest
Of dormitories,
Being hungry was my mission,
As the servants disguised themselves
From my wary eyes.
Unexpected beds arose
In the morning,
The elbow rested further.
The air of the room was
Oppressive, now that I
Left it and carried on.
Life was beginning to be
Lovely.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
Food On My Table
Come and see the food on my table,
For it is prepared for you and me;
And, i am waiting for you in the room of my love.
Life is full of surprises and i want to show you my love,
And here comes the sun of the morning to touch your heart;
For, it is right for you to be beside me at this table.
The food on my table,
As soon as you receive my letter means that i love you;
For life is full of surprises and i want your love,
So come and let us share this food on my table.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Butterfly (Funny Story)
Memories
today i calmly sat in a park bench,
a butterfly came dangling resting on my elbow,
it's magnificent beauty reminded me about my childhood.
I remembered that day,
carrying a big basin and creeping down the blades of grass,
with my big basin i wud try to trap the butterflies in our yard.
Everytime i tried the butterflies would fly zigzagly and escape,
mama saw it all,
she came to the yard too,
holding my tiny shoulders as i rested in the big basin,
she said 'to catch a butterfly, just relax and extend your elbow, don't say a world or tremble, the butterfly will come to you'.
Then she left.
And true, a beautiful butterfly rested in my small palm.
Mmmh vote if you think its awesme out of 10.
poem by Prince Froggy Mwalimu
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We Cry for Food and They Give Us Bullets
Food! Food! Food!
It is all that we need
It is all that we need
to calm down our spirits!
It is food that fills
that fills the empty pangs
of our stomachs,
pangs that make us yawn
but cannot sleep
that make us gulp
but cannot vomit,
that make our saliva
taste sour and acidic!
We cry for food
like the helpless little children
with the art to attract attention
by our street demonstrations.
Yes, we cry for food like little children
to calm down our spirits,
that the cry cannot at all be neglected
for it is food,
it is food that soothes our spirits.
But you give us bullets
on the streets where we stage
our cry for food
You give us bullets
instead of food.
But even bullets cannot silence
our cry for food
for as long as we`re hungry
we shall be like little children
that will ever cry for food.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Beds To The Front Of Them
'Beds to the front of them,
Beds to the right of them,
Beds to the left of them,
Nobody blundered.
Beamed at by hungry souls,
Screamed at with brimming bowls,
Steamed at by army rolls,
Buttered and sundered.
With coffee not cannon plied,
Each must be satisfied,
Whether they lived or died;
All the men wondered.'
poem by Louisa May Alcott
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Sweet Perfume
A rose arose with rosy hue,
And made my torn heart, so sparkling new,
A rose arose as roses do,
And warmth for its guise within me grew.
A rose arose with beauty bright,
And gladdened my heart with such delight,
A rose arose as roses might,
And set out great charm before my sight.
A rose arose with summertime,
And imbued my heart with songs sublime,
A rose arose as roses climb,
And showed itself in all its prime.
A rose arose inside the room,
And lifted my heart so full of gloom,
A rose arose as roses bloom,
And fused the air with its sweet perfume.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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About Every Morning Writings....
so many things need to be written
every morning
you know all about them
and i do not have to even tell you
that all these are more
about sorrow
do i have to ask you
what happens to me when i do not write them?
i am trying to fathom your silence
we have been there
with all our fears
i do not have to tell you more
and if i were to tell you about all these
must i tell you
what shall happen about us?
the future is mean
the skies are cloudy
dark with the the warning of rain
shall i tell more about us?
forgive me
for i am tired
fed up but life's empty promises
hungry for more
failures
that serve as food
in our
everyday
table.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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To have a feel of my food
To have the feel of my food not just the taste of it in my tongue
I use my bare hands, the rice I fold between my palms the fish
I touch with my fingers, and then my mouth opens to swallow and savor
Just like you tonight, I feel you with my bare hands I taste you
With my tongue because you are the food of my soul and my soul
Feeds on you as you also feed on mine
We are bare all over, not just our bare hands
We touch we feel we lick we breath with our noses
On our skins, we feed on our flesh, we go deeper
Into our souls, our eyes feast on the food we lay in front of us
The lights of our eyes open in our room the festivity to a beginning
We feed on ourselves we are hungry & greedy & we are never full
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mission to Earth, A Child is Born!
Mission to Earth, mission on Earth
A baby cries, cold air, no warmth
No womb comfort, a life, a journey begins.
Mission to Earth, mission on Earth
A universe spreads forth,
Horizon, spreads a hand and boundless.
Mission to Earth, mission on Earth
Giggles and applause, the friendly stars
Frowns and yellow eyes, the jealous frogs
Mission to Earth, Mission on Earth
The cross, he bears all, a thorn as crown
A mission, to save a life, though so thankless!
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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One morning
one morning it will come that i may have a
wagon of carpentry tools and let my friends
build houses for our neighbor, who just live
in shanty shelter
one morning i may have lots of books and
pens, for i may have a library in our barrio,
so that those little kids can learn and can
have research as other do
one morning those sky be filled with
confetti, reaching everybody hand, for
a dream of graduate be in the air; as
other are send to school, with confident
of financially free
one morning i may see, that every food
in the table be tasted and beautiful dresses
be wear by every child, living no pain in
the stomach that is hungry, closing their eye
with a dream and a hope that next day be
awaked in the bed they are safe
one morning i can ride in an airplane,
sharing my great ideas, to every heart and
soul that listen to the plea of our people, in a
country that everybody call and nobody dare
to fall
that is my story; please help us to pray.....help
us, and never give up, it is still the eye of the
iceberg..........
poem by Antonio Liao
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A Lovely Man And A lovely Woman
I've met a lovely man who never got a lovely woman to marry,
I've also met a lovely woman who never got a lovely man to marry;
But life is like that at times,
For the rainbow do have many colours.
Take your weapons, quiver and bow;
For your tasty food of love is about to be shared among your lovers;
And like two choice kids of goats in the wilderness,
But just do it like it is on this love.
The dew of heaven and the fatness of the earth are around you,
And like Route 66 in the land far away from you! !
But i am now going into the Valley of Gerar,
For i've learnt a lot from the wells of water around me.
The land is four hundred shekels of silver but,
Many still have married their wrong partners in this life!
But the forest consumes many by night and of the drought by day,
And like the female and the male servants on camels and donkeys.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Men in Great Place are thrice Servants Servants of the Sovereign or State Servants of Fame and Servants of Business It is strange desire to seek Power and to lose Liberty.
quote by Francis Bacon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bench By The River
It’s six thirty on Sunday morning
and I’ve been here since three.
I don’t sleep much now-a-days,
but that don’t bother me.
The flies are here as usual
taking salt from my skin
whilst I’m having breakfast
of blood red wine and gin.
I remember when I was married
I had food three times a day.
Now, I eat when I’m hungry,
but not much comes my way.
I live in a one room bed sit,
which is big enough for me.
I don’t give parties anymore,
besides I’ve got no settee.
Two chairs, and one’s my table,
a sleeping bag on the floor.
A cup, a glass and a tooth brush,
don’t need anything more.
Another bottle is approaching
along with friends of mine.
We’ll continue having breakfast,
at least until lunch time.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Precious Night
Precious calm lovely night fall
bringing hope for tomorrow
eradicating today’s sorrow
shipping them away with its barrow
Precious calm lovely night fall
the cotton on today’s failure
opening ventures of bright futures
that will witness no fractures
Precious calm lovely night fall
shoving away the trice of worries
terminating the moment of feeling sorry
so much in a hurry
to welcome the bright morning
Precious calm lovely night fall
springing forth to bring comfort
to the wounded wiping the day’s
tears showing them near view of greater years
Precious calm lovely night fall
closing the door on today’s losses
letting go of the gross experiences
giving you the chance to be the boss
09/03/2011
poem by Oluseyi Oluseun
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Women & Men
Uh, uh, uh, here we go
say women and men, what a magic combination
women and men what a magic combination
women and men what a magic combination
tada- what a magic combination
said men and men what a magic combination
said men and men what a magic combination
said women and women what a magic combination
tada- what a magic combination
said you in a shirt what a magic combination
said Spock and Captain Kirk what a magic combination
said pain and hurt what a magic combination
tada- what a magic combination
said Ike and Tina-T
yo it was tragic
Pam and Tommy Lee
yo it was tragic
Your girl and me
yeah it's maagic!
what a magic combination
said whoo i like that magic combination
said whoo what a fine combination
said whoo i liked that magic combination
tada
what a magic combination
so women and men what a magic combinationx3
tada
what a magic combination-nation-nation
song performed by by Ok Go
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Seek Food
Hunger is to seek food,
Food has one eye and one ear.
The food we abstain from are the heads,
The food is caring over us, and we maintain
Our lives with the food of the day.
Liquors are taken as food,
With a brain too bright,
A table and a cook is required,
Forming my life as a whole.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Christmas (A Sestina)
Christmas is here, Jesus to the world brought peace
Everyone is rested as kids spend time with family
Kitchens are ablaze, wives creating good ol’ soul-food
Leslie and Destra, await their turn, under the mistletoe
Love is burning bright, outshining the fireplace
And playing kids fill the house with laughter
Worries are swept away, sadness replaced by laughter
As love flies through the air, enemies make peace
Whilst sweet carols are sung by the fireplace
We thank God for the greatest gift of family
As grandma and grandpa steal a kiss, under the mistletoe
My tummy just yelled: where is my soul-food?
Memories to the tongue, grandma’s special soul-food
Don’t know how, but to my tongue, it brings laughter.
Grandma and Grandpa are still under the mistletoe
Showing love so ancient, a picture of heaven’s peace
They are the beginning and measure of our family
Captured purely in pictures taken by the fireplace
Love bubbles deep within, and around the fireplace
As its oil fuses with the spice of Grandma’s soul-food.
Moriah, the youngest; four weeks added to the family
Her little eyes sparkle, her little face filled with laughter
Looking at her, so lovely, One is taken into peace
In times coming soon, her place would be the mistletoe
Her's would be lovely and her destiny the mistletoe
And she too, someday would have her own fireplace
As she grows to celebrate and cherish Christmas peace,
She would learn from Grandma, how to craft soul-food
Her kids would fill the house solely with laughter
As one day, she would have her a family
Fresh out the womb, Moriah completes the family
Even as Grandma and her boo are still by the mistletoe
Their love brings to the heart tears and laughter
Treasures of joy. Now we depart from the fireplace
To the table to dive into some soul-food
That the wives had made in love, and peace.
Thank God for family! Gazing at the fireplace
And the mistletoe, loving me some soul-food
That sets my tongue on laughter, I thank God for peace.
Copyright © 2009 Leslie Alexis
poem by Leslie Alexis
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Ch 08 On Rules For Conduct In Life - Story 02
A great man having been asked why he wore his seal-ring on his left hand, whereas the right possesses so much excellence, replied: ‘Knowest thou not that the meritorious are always neglected?’
He who has created joy and distress
Apportions either excellence or luck.
The Wander-Light
And they heard the tent-poles clatter,
And the fly in twain was torn –
'Tis the soiled rag of a tatter
Of the tent where I was born.
And what matters it, I wonder?
Brick or stone or calico? –
Or a bush you were born under,
When it happened long ago?
And my beds were camp beds and tramp beds and damp beds,
And my beds were dry beds on drought-stricken ground,
Hard beds and soft beds, and wide beds and narrow –
For my beds were strange beds the wide world round.
And the old hag seemed to ponder
('Twas my mother told me so),
And she said that I would wander
Where but few would think to go.
"He will fly the haunts of tailors,
He will cross the ocean wide,
For his fathers, they were sailors
All on his good father's side."
Behind me, before me, Oh! my roads are stormy
The thunder of skies and the sea's sullen sound,
The coaster or liner, the English or foreign,
The state-room or steerage the wide world round.
And the old hag she seemed troubled
As she bent above the bed,
"He will dream things and he'll see things
To come true when he is dead.
He will see things all too plainly,
And his fellows will deride,
For his mothers they were gipsies
All on his good mother's side."
And my dreams are strange dreams, are day dreams, are grey dreams,
And my dreams are wild dreams, and old dreams and new;
They haunt me and daunt me with fears of the morrow –
My brothers they doubt me – but my dreams come true.
And so I was born of fathers
From where ice-bound harbours are
Men whose strong limbs never rested
And whose blue eyes saw afar.
Till, for gold, one left the ocean,
Seeking over plain and hill;
And so I was born of mothers
Whose deep minds were never still.
I rest not, 'tis best not, the world is a wide one
And, caged for an hour, I pace to and fro;
I see things and dree things and plan while I'm sleeping,
I wander for ever and dream as I go.
I have stood by Table Mountain
On the Lion at Capetown,
And I watched the sunset fading
From the roads that I marked down,
And I looked out with my brothers
From the heights behind Bombay,
Gazing north and west and eastward,
Over roads I'll tread some day.
For my ways are strange ways and new ways and old ways,
And deep ways and steep ways and high ways and low;
I'm at home and at ease on a track that I know not,
And restless and lost on a road that I know.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Hunger Strike
Temple Of The Dog) (New Castle, United Kingdom, 2/22/92)
I don't mind...
>From the mouth of decadence...
But I can't feed on the powerless when my cup's already overfilled...
But it's on the table, the fire's cookin'...
And the starvin' babies, and the slaves are out workin'...
But it's on the table, the mouths are chokin'...
But I'm goin' hungry...I'm goin' hungry...
I'm goin' hungry...I'm goin' hungry
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am Calm In The Pain
I AM CALM IN THE PAIN
I am calm in the pain,
And calm in the rejection,
And calm through the insult,
And calm through the anger,
And calm calm calm,
Though I feel so deeply
How I have failed
I am calm
Very calm
So calm
Until suddenly
In the middle of the morning prayer
I begin to cry to God
Cry with a terrible crying
And then when the prayer done
Calm calm calm calm calm.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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