Hey! You cannot bring out orange from an apple tree
Dear farmer in your raising crops
The soil is fertile and the weather too pleasant.
But sow some orange seeds
If you really want orange
For your pregnant wife.
* Poor human beings are mess up with their daily needs.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Related quotes
Prince Of Orange
Look at these hands
Spokes of the sun God delay you, spray you
Prince of orange, climb the ladder
Prince of orange will die.
Brass robinettes
Trumpet and drums for the taking, baking
Prince of orange, climb the ladder
Prince of orange will die.
All the food he steals is all right
Far the tall and gentle poplar
Causing fanfare to those listening
Now
Drape round your head
Mischief and secrets in green kelt, all hell
Prince of orange, climb the ladder
Prince of orange will die.
Look at these lands (--- --- ---)
Youll get no books for your dinner
Sinner
Prince of orange, climb the ladder
Prince of orange will die
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Orange And Green Will Carry The Day
Ireland! rejoice, and England! deplore
Faction and feud are passing away.
'Twas a low voice, but 'tis a loud roar,
'Orange and Green will carry the day.'
Orange! Orange!
Green and Orange!
Pitted together in many a fray
Lions in fight!
And linked in their might,
Orange and Green will carry the day.
Orange! Orange!
Green and Orange!
Wave them together o'er mountain and bay.
Orange and Green!
Our King and our Queen!
'Orange and Green will carry the day!'
Rusty the swords our fathers unsheathed
William and James are turned to clay
Long did we till the wrath they bequeathed,
Red was the crop, and bitter the pay!
Freedom fled us!
Knaves misled us!
Under the feet of the foemen we lay
Riches and strength
We'll win them at length,
For Orange and Green will carry the day!
Landlords fooled us;
England ruled us,
Hounding our passions to make us their prey;
But, in their spite,
The Irish UNITE,
And Orange and Green will carry the day!
Fruitful our soil where honest men starve;
Empty the mart, and shipless the bay;
Out of our want the Oligarchs carve;
Foreigners fatten on our decay!
Disunited,
Therefore blighted,
Ruined and rent by the Englishman's sway;
Party and creed
For once have agreed
Orange and Green will carry the day!
Boyne's old water,
Red with slaughter!
Now is as pure as an infant at play;
So, in our souls,
Its history rolls,
And Orange and Green will carry the day!
English deceit can rule us no more;
Bigots and knaves are scattered like spray
Deep was the oath the Orangeman swore,
'Orange and Green must carry the day!'
Orange! Orange!
Bless the Orange!
Tories and Whigs grew pale with dismay,
When from the North
Burst the cry forth,
'Orange and Green will carry the day!'
No surrender!
No Pretender!
Never to falter and never betray
With an Amen,
We swear it again,
ORANGE AND GREEN SHALL CARRY THE DAY.
poem by Thomas Davis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Orange And Green Will Carry The Day
AIR--_The Protestant Boys._
I.
Ireland! rejoice, and England! deplore--
Faction and feud are passing away.
'Twas a low voice, but 'tis a loud roar,
'Orange and Green will carry the day.'
Orange! Orange!
Green and Orange!
Pitted together in many a fray--
Lions in fight!
And linked in their might,
Orange and Green will carry the day.
Orange! Orange!
Green and Orange!
Wave them together o'er mountain and bay.
Orange and Green!
Our King and our Queen!
'Orange and Green will carry the day!'
II.
Rusty the swords our fathers unsheathed--
William and James are turned to clay--
Long did we till the wrath they bequeathed,
Red was the crop, and bitter the pay!
Freedom fled us!
Knaves misled us!
Under the feet of the foemen we lay--
Riches and strength
We'll win them at length,
For Orange and Green will carry the day!
Landlords fooled us;
England ruled us,
Hounding our passions to make us their prey;
But, in their spite,
The Irish UNITE,
And Orange and Green will carry the day!
III.
Fruitful our soil where honest men starve;
Empty the mart, and shipless the bay;
Out of our want the Oligarchs carve;
Foreigners fatten on our decay!
Disunited,
Therefore blighted,
Ruined and rent by the Englishman's sway;
Party and creed
For once have agreed--
Orange and Green will carry the day!
Boyne's old water,
Red with slaughter!
Now is as pure as an infant at play;
So, in our souls,
Its history rolls,
And Orange and Green will carry the day!
IV.
English deceit can rule us no more;
Bigots and knaves are scattered like spray--
Deep was the oath the Orangeman swore,
'Orange and Green must carry the day!'
Orange! Orange!
Bless the Orange!
Tories and Whigs grew pale with dismay,
When from the North
Burst the cry forth,
'Orange and Green will carry the day!'
No surrender!
No Pretender!
Never to falter and never betray--
With an Amen,
We swear it again,
ORANGE AND GREEN SHALL CARRY THE DAY.
poem by Thomas Osborne Davis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ode To Orange Chgicken
Orange chicken, oh orange chicken,
how much I love you.
You're sweet, sticky, and tangy, all at the same time,
you go great wi th soy sauce, but never with lime.
ode to orange chicken, which I love to devour,
it's been in my mouth so often, it knows that i have power.
It knows the names of my taste buds, Jill, Lil, and Bill,
sometimes the orange chicken is happy, but sometimes it's held against it's will.
Whenever I eat orange chicken, it goes CRUNCH, CRUNCH,
and I have to have chow mein, and that goes MUCH, MUNCH!
Ode to orange chicken, it is always in a bowl,
but did I mention, i also love eggrolls.
poem by Aubrey Harmel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red And Orange
Ther's a red house,
Inside there's an orange door.
Beside that there's a red carpet,
On top of an orange floor.
There's a red table,
Below an orange ceiling.
Upstairs there's a red bed,
Inside an orange room.
There's a couple of red people sleeping soundly,
Next door two orange ones too.
Outside there's a red truck,
No one knows what to do.
I don't see the proble,
Why don't you leave us all alone.
But now I see the red more clearly,
And I know what's done is done.
And I'll float away with the cloudy smoke,
Before the inevertable happens and I start to choke.
Good bye red house,
So long orange door.
I'm going for a long sleep noe,
Six feet under the floor.
Hundred candles lit in the wind
On his birthday the poor farmer dreams
After decades of bitter fighting with crops.
He's raised on grass
But now he sees the pasture
A barren land,
And faraway ruined tomb of his poem like wife.
The offspring abandoned the fruitful soil
And ran away to the colorful Town.
He's alone and bedridden
But still bit comfortable on his hay mattress.
Who lit hundred candles on this dark cake; Is it the World's end?
And he firmly believes that his beloved wife celebrates her intimate companion's centenary.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Orange juice
Orange juice mom says drink
When i am sick
It can make me thick
Orange juice i have to pick
licking mom says no
Drinking i have to do
Hate orange juice, mom says i know
Vitamin C it has
And i need to take
for my own sake
Healthy it can make me
Power it can give me
Orange juice
Is all i need
When i am in lead
With the kids at the lake.! :)
poem by michelle al G
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Orange Leaf
Orange leaf passing by
The air is stiff
And cold
Orange leaf passing by
Flying over the snow
Orange leaf passing by
Riding over the snow.
Past the oak tree
The old house is silent
Orange leaf
Fly with the wind
And snow
Fly past the frozen lake
Fish sleeping beneath
Its crystal surface
Orange leaf
fly to the sea
And wait
To be picked up
And carried off
Orange leaf passing by
The air is stiff
And cold
Orange leaf passing by
Flying over the snow
poem by Jesse love
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To His Coy One
SEEST thou yon smiling Orange?
Upon the tree still hangs it;
Already March bath vanish'd,
And new-born flow'rs are shooting.
I draw nigh to the tree then,
And there I say: Oh Orange,
Thou ripe and juicy Orange,
Thou sweet and luscious Orange,
I shake the tree, I shake it,
Oh fall into my lap!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Fly home
Fly home there will be shine
with bright orange light
Fly home there will be sweet
with bright orange light
Fly home there will be caring
with bright orange light
Fly home there will be lovely
with bright orange light
Fly home there will be comfort
with bright orange light
Fly home there will be fortune
with bright orange light
Fly home there will be future
with bright orange light
Fly home Fly home to your nest
with bright orange light
poem by See Fee Lee
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If I Had a Paintbrush
If I had a paintbrush, I'd paint my world orange.
Orange for the Destruction and Purity of Fire;
For the Power of the Sun;
For the Patience and Innocence of a Child;
For the careful Balance between the Material and Spiritual;
For the Happiness and Goodness in the World;
For Light and the Truth.
Orange for Life.
And among all the millions of shades of orange,
I would paint a splash of light green.
Green for Hope.
poem by Zoe Guillory
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The Ballad Of Skip Wiley
Hes a man on a mission
Wild as a ricochet
Picture if you can when the everglades ran
From the gulf coast to biscayne bay
Hes gonna give it back to the gators
Lock the tourists up in theme parks and zoos
He says join me for lunch at the reptiles brunch
Where the barometer soup is you
Hes crazy and dangerous
But who else can you trust
Hes the outlaw in all of us
The environmental terrorist
Ou can mess with that mouse in orlando
Jilt a tourist in st. augustine
Ou can shoplift all day at blockbuster
But you cant steal the orange bowl queen
No you cant steal the orange bowl queen
Spoken:
Thats unthinkable in the state of florida
What would the chamber of commerce say
This man is sick
Eah
There were crimes of epic proportions
All part of skip wileys crusade
Tourists were cackin
And tourists were packin
While he and skink cooled there heels in the shade
Then came the citrus sensation
Welcome to the revolution he said
With a pirates persona
He snatched the gridiron madonna
And the day groovers called for his head
Hes crazy and dangerous
But who else can you trust
Hes the outlaw in all of us
The environmental terrorist
Ou can mess with that mouse in orlando
Jilt a tourist in st. augustine
Ou can rag on the miami dolphins
But you cant steal the orange bowl queen
No you cant steal the orange bowl queen
No, no you cant steal the orange bowl queen
Spoken:
Well skips caper it kinda backfired
Got the orange juice barons rather upset
In the light of bad moves these manhunts ensued
Skip easily slipped through the net
He was last seen atop of a mangrove
Perched like a wounded osprey
He was not meant to last
He belongs to the past
And I hope he gets there one day
Hes crazy and dangerous
But who else can you trust
Hes the outlaw in all of us
The environmental terrorist (terrorist)
Ou can mess with that mouse in orlando
Jilt a tourist in st. augustine
Ou can shoplift your days at blockbuster
But you cant steal the orange bowl queen
No you cant steal the orange bowl queen
No you cant steal the orange bowl queen
Thats right
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Single Orange Rose
Here is my prose,
All based on a single orange rose,
Grave grass springing,
Church hyms their singing,
Blood stains clinging,
On my single orange rose,
No soul is laughing,
Deaths hands are clapping,
Coffin case trapping,
On my single orange rose,
Trees are branching,
My cold blank eyes are trancing,
The life cycle of death is dancing,
On my single orange rose,
I picked my final wish,
On deaths lips I kissed,
My long life I missed,
All because of that single orange rose,
COPYRIGHT 2008 BEN SPARACO POEMS
poem by Ben Sparaco
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Who wants an orange whip? Orange whip? Orange whip? Three orange whips.
quote by John Candy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hypnagogic
a woman dreams that she turns
into an orange bird
and on the other hand the orange
bird seeing her so beautiful and complete
less the orange wings and feathers
dreams of having woman-hands
soft and a flowing body like a slender
river curving through along
the side of a big mountain where
the orange bird perches on a branch
of an olive tree beside it
convoluted, the thoughts unwind
themselves in sleep wanting rest
from all these warping of time
and seasons and images and swapping
between reality and dream
surreal and mundane
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Orange Cat
That orange cat, which sit on top of the desk,
Looking sad as like someone dead,
Why oh why my cute little cat,
What made your eyes look very sad,
That orange cat, which sleep on top of the shelves,
Looking outside the window for a new breeze,
He already ate and jump and played,
But his eyes sad like no one ever cared,
That orange cat which sit and stared,
With his eyes dimming and started to rest,
Why oh why my cute little cat,
Don't you ever worry cause i will always be there....
poem by by unknown author
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The virtuous fertilizer
You fertile the soil
And the tree grows well.
Fruits ripe and smell
The wingless unkind human birds in thrill.
They taste the fruits and saliva spill
Afterward throw the seeds ill will.
And the human dignity go through the mill.
* If this rare bird could fly?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ballad Of Skip Wiley
He's a man on a mission
Wild as a ricochet
Picture if you can
When the everglades ran
From the gulf coast to Biscayne Bay
He's gonna give it back to the gators
Lock the tourists up in theme parks and zoos
He says "join me for lunch at the reptiles brunch
Where the Barometer Soup is you"
He's crazy and dangerous
But who else can you trust
He's the outlaw in all of us
The environmental terrorist
Chorus
You can mess with the mouse in Orlando
Jilt a tourist in St. Augustine
You can shoplift all day at Blockbuster
But you can't steal the Orange Bowl Queen
No you can't steal the Orange Bown Queen
Verse
There were crimes of epic proportions
All part of Skip Wiley's crusade
Tourists were cackin' and tourists were packin'
While he and Skink cooled their heels in the shade
Then came the citrus sensation
"Welcome to the revolution" he said
With a pirate's persona he snatched the gridiron Madonna
And the big movers called for his head
He's crazy and dangerous
But who else can you trust
He's the outlaw in all of us
The environmental terrorist
Chorus
You can mess with the mouse in Orlando
Jilt a tourist in St. Augustine
You can rag on the Miami Dolphins
But you can't steal the Orange Bowl Queen
No you can't steal the Orange Bowl Queen (x2)
Well Skip's caper it kind of backfired
And got the orange juice barons rather upset
In the light of bad moods, these manhunts ensued
But Skip easily slipped through the net
He was last seen atop a mangrove
Perched like a wounded osprey
He was not meant to last, he belongs to the past
And I hope he gets there one day
He's crazy and dangerous
But who else can you trust
He's the outlaw in all of us
The environmental terrorist
Chorus
You can mess with the mouse in Orlando
Jily a tourist in St. Augustine
You can shoplift your days at Blockbuster
But you can't steal the Orange Bown Queen
No you can't steal the Orange Bown Queen (x2
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Voice
And I lay still and snow dust
is burning my skin.
Snow dust is burning to me,
burning never burning out
Orange
Orange
a grey moon.
And I am becoming strings
strings of violas
guitars
violoncellos;
Strings of all
string instruments
when they are searing me
starting to sear me
like orange
like orange
and before I become
voice
before voice I become
vocal strings,
snow dust is burning my skin,
snow dust
orange
burning me,
burning out.
Translated from Macedonian by: Zorica Petkoska
poem by Afrodita Nikolova
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A Green Sour Orange....
first i get an orange
a green orange, the young one
sour, but still
citrus, not pungent
but inviting, not a cure for the
wound, not easing,
it penetrates pain and
makes it more painful,
then i cut the orange,
press it
and press it some more
to get all its juices....
i do not drink it
i leave it in the glass
for all those dark nights
till every juice dries,
till what you see and feel
is the same
emptiness....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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