Everything Tastes Bitter
Come what may
The usual cannot be embraced anymore
It is the unusual that delights
My mind & senses
Extraordinary senses
Unidentified
My taste buds getting
Uncertain which is salt
Which is sweet?
Which is sour?
Rehabilitate my tongue
Everything tastes bitter.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
So Unusual (Live @ Java Joes - 06.27.02)
This is the most unusual story, of a most unusual girl
she stood painting my picture, of a most unusual world
she can crawl out of frame while shes hanging on the wall
and shes calling my name
shes not so usual
shes most unusual
shes not so usual
shes so unusual
shes mostly a ghost, the way she watches over me
she complains when i smoke, but then you do the same to me
shes controlling my brain activity, knowing when i go to sleep
she'll catch you when I'm falling hard
shes so unusual
shes not so usual
shes not so usual
shes so unusual
shes not so hooked on the drugs like i thought she was
and never sucking on the lime, and hardly sipping on the wine
and dispite of her biopolar rollercoastering
i think i can try, she'll keep me singing differently
and its fine cause shes with me now, most all of the time
trying to saving the light, thinking not of her own
and always kissing me goodnight when i just need to be alone
shes so sweet, so discrete, shes exactly what i need
not even make believe
shes not so usual
so unusual
shes not so usual
so unusual
not so usual, and not to practical either
but shes not so mystical, but not to magical either
but shes not so outta control, and not so used to the flow
shes not so usual
nah, shes a natural
ohhh, shes not so usual
shes most unusual
shes so unusual
shes so unusual
shes gonna use me ohhh
shes not so u...
shes not so u...
not so u...
not so....
song performed by by Jason Mraz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not So Usual
This is the most unusual story, of a most unusual girl
she's the paint in my picture, of a most unusual world
she can crawl out the frame while shes hanging on the wall
and shes calling my name
shes not so usual, wo
shes most unusual
shes not so usual
shes so unusual
shes mostly a ghost, the way she watches over me
she complains when I smoke, but then you do the same to me
shes controlling my brain activity, knowing when i go to sleep
she'll catch you when I'm falling hard
shes so unusual
shes not so usual
shes not so usual
shes so unusual
shes not so hooked on the drugs like I thought that she was
and never sucking on the lime, and hardly sipping on the wine
and dispite of her bipolar rollercoastering
I think I can trust, she'll keep me singing differently
and its fine cause shes with me now, most all of the time
trying to saving my life, thinking none of her own
and always kissing me goodnight when i just need to be alone
shes so sweet, so discrete, shes exactly what I need
not even make believe
shes not so usual
so unusual
shes not so usual
so unusual
not so usual, and not to practical either
but shes not so mystical, but not to magical either
but shes not so outta control, and not so used to the flow
shes not so usual
nah, shes a natural
ohhh, shes not so usual
shes most unusual
shes so unusual
shes so unusual
shes gonna use me ohhh
shes not so u...
shes not so u...
not so u...
not so....
song performed by by Jason Mraz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Is It That You Like?
don't you like this sweetness
of my words?
you are bored with this sugar
and honey
and cream?
you are afraid you have become
sick of such
sweet tongue
such sweet indulgence?
oh, you want something bitter
something sour now?
some bitter herbs some sour
species of green lemons?
try me,
i am a bitter person
i am the latest delicacy of
all that is sour
and
decomposing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Since I've Come To My Senses
Giving up on my life,
To not sleep peacefully at night.
With a pacing of the floor...
Back and forth and uptight.
Not anymore.
Since I've come to my senses,
Open are those doors I've closed before.
Giving up on my dreams,
To witness them flow downstream...
Panicked.
Not anymore.
Since I've come to my senses,
Down came those fences...
And defenses raised.
Doing things for others to see them pleased,
With approval unshown...
They appreciated me.
Not anymore.
Since I've come to my senses.
I will not be accused,
For something done I did do.
To then feel used and psychologically abused...
With an inflicting of my own torment?
No!
Not anymore...
Since I've come to my senses.
Giving up on my life to feel accepted,
As a focused objective to have others reject...
No.
Not anymore.
I've closed those doors.
There are so many others I had to learn to open,
With a coming to my senses.
Before I prevented so much I now can see.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ode to a Meal of Life
I took in all I could
Flavors of what life offered
Taste that could turn your tongue around
Dissatisfying sensations like explosions
Starting each reaction around 7 in the morning
Ending every night randomly with dinner
Digesting as if I were reborn in my sleep
Dreams influenced by the senses felt before rest
Today I flew tomorrow I blew up
Into a million pieces of glass
Reflecting the fates I have devoured
Meals become endless hopes to try something new
Eventually my taste buds begin to expire
Dying and lying on the dry tongue
Saliva surfacing to fight past fleeting times
Oh how the good times pass by so quickly
The great moments forgotten so easily
Oh how the sad times bring us misery
The worst moments devastating our savory
The dish we lovingly pick at
Ode of the lovely homely delicacy
The positivity of creation of a cook
A chef so-called the creator
This ode to life
Its fresh warm smell attracts all
The lively breathing behavior emitted
Oh this ode to life
This plate full of experiences
But what is at the end of this dish?
The last bit of taste?
Is it sweet, bitter, sour?
It is to our hearts content
Personally though, it is bitter-sweet
It is spiced with the death of it all
Our tribute ends as the spoils rot
Sure the meal has been fine but the last crumb ended
With nothing more than a bitter spite
Leaving a lusting hunger for the past felt
Causing us to be grateful for life
Allowing us to cherish and live life
This life is more than a meal
Our gluttony may have spent it to the last
But we pay for it as we must
Ode to life we continue to its savoury last bite
poem by Han One Sail
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Sweet And Bitter..
The taste of cakes, sweets and chocolate,
The sugar in them makes us to be happy and glad,
The feeling is great and contagious,
When the sweetness of something is around us,
The bitter taste of anything may make us to be sad,
As it does not tickle the tongue and the taste buds,
When the bitterness runs to the throat,
When the bad memories resurface to haunt,
The emotions get bitter and torture the soul,
The sweetness rekindles all good emotions,
And this is related with all good memories,
What makes the bitter to be bitterer,
And the sweet to be sweeter,
When it is felt by the heart and the mind?
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Screen The Sufferings
With the senses you know the world.
The senses awake, you're aware.
The unbridled senses lead to lust.
The sensory objects induce greed.
With the mind you build ambition
And ignore the path to attain.
With the ego you feel importance
And want at any cost to achieve.
Senses, mind and ego reined,
Suffering is screened.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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An Exhortation About A Dog
i
the dog that licks my
feet
every morning after
i wake up
does not appeal to my
senses anymore
ii
the dog that licks my feet every morning after i wake up does not appeal to my senses anymore
iii
the dog
that
licks my
feet
every
morning
after
i wake
up
does
not
appeal to
my
senses
anymore
iv
but i must
allow it
still
because it is the law
between
the dog and me
and this
dogged
society
v
and so the dog still
licks my feet
every morning
and at night
i do not ponder about it
anymore
i do not ask
i have no questions
for asking
vi
the dog sleeps with me
at night
in my bed
and spreads her legs like
a spoiled
prostitute
and she is confident
that i cannot kill her
because that is the
law between us
and dogs
vii
and society keeps guard
on this
and if i continue
having this dog's tongue lick
all over my body
and feed her well
and make her a part of my
life
till death do us part
then society
shall have a thousand hands
clapping
for my obedience
and fidelity
viii
my honest neighbor
(who does not want to be mentioned here says
that actually)
she's one kind of a typical
bitch
(and i will neither confirm nor deny
it, but please do not tell
anyone about it)
that is the law.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sweet Wine
Sweet wine
Lets feast and dine
Sweet wine
Tickle my taste buds
Sweet wine
Sharpen my senses
Make them finer than fine
Sweet wine
Red and white stay in line
Till I give you the sign
That you are mine
Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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You Come To My Senses
I picture you on the beach
Lying in the sand
Out of reach of my trembling hands
I picture you in a car
Blonde hair in the wind
I picture you in my arms
And the touch of your skin
The smile on your face
The way that you taste
(chorus)
You come to my senses
Every time i close my eyes
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
I can't stop this ache inside
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
Driving home in the cold
January rain
I've got to find my way out of this pain
I reached for you in the night
I dreamed of your kiss
I woke before it got light
With your name on my lips
Alone in my bed
Your voice in my head
(chorus)
I picture you in my arms
And the touch of your skin
The smile on your face
The way that you taste
You come to my senses
Every time i close my eyes
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
I can't stop this ache inside
Oh, i have no defenses
You come to my senses
Ah...
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Came To My Senses
I picture you on the beach
Lying in the sand
Out of reach of my trembling hands
I picture you in a car
Blonde hair in the wind
I picture you in my arms
And the touch of your skin
The smile on your face
The way that you taste
(chorus)
You come to my senses
Every time I close my eyes
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
I cant stop this ache inside
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
Driving home in the cold
January rain
Ive got to find my way out of this pain
I reached for you in the night
I dreamed of your kiss
I woke before it got light
With your name on my lips
Alone in my bed
Your voice in my head
(chorus)
I picture you in my arms
And the touch of your skin
The smile on your face
The way that you taste
You come to my senses
Every time I close my eyes
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
I cant stop this ache inside
Oh, I have no defenses
You come to my senses
Ah...
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Day I Know You Will..! ..
One day I know
you will take back my sight
you lent me at my entry
into your world;
Deeply therefore I look into
every creation-
macrocosoms and microcosoms-
and in my mind's endless arena
chisel exact replicas to defy time-
I will ever keep alive hence
of all the delights
through my sight and senses-
Yes.every song of your creation
and every fury of your destruction
will ever reverberate
in every corner of my heart
even after you withdraw
your soldiers of senses!
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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The place beyond between
Not named as joy;
not named as happiness..
at the end of a thought
the eyes lifted; then,
only the senses;
only the senses’ action seen;
only the endless beauty
of the beautiful unnamed;
only the glory of the food
of the senses unattached;
where is the mind
in this perfect satisfaction?
who needs to name this blessing,
blithe? or to name it, bliss?
beyond a name;
yet known.
*
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Which is chaste?
My eyes are sharper than swords.
Your attention was held.
My words are sharper than eyes.
Your heart was won.
My pen is sharper than words.
Your senses struggle.
Is my sharpest weapon blunt
‘Cause your senses are strong?
No, your senses are iron sheathed.
Else, your senses are the weakest.
The senses shown can be visible.
Hence you dread to show.
The shown heart, who knows?
Hence, you dare to concede.
Heart, more precious, is given.
Yet you guard your senses.
Throne is lost; sword is guarded.
War is lost; battle is waged.
Kings are friendly; subjects only war.
Heart is given; senses are withheld.
Visibly chaste; Invisibly what?
13.06.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Sonnet XXIX: When Conquering Love
To the Senses
When conquering Love did first my Heart assail,
Unto mine aid I summon'd every Sense,
Doubting, if that proud tyrant should prevail,
My Heart should suffer for mine Eyes' offence;
But he with Beauty first corrupted Sight,
My Hearing bribed with her tongue's harmony,
My Taste by her sweet lips drawn with delight,
My Smelling won with her breath's spicery.
But when my Touching came to play his part
(The King of Senses, greater than the rest),
He yields Love up the keys unto my Heart,
And tells the other how they should be blest.
And thus by those of whom I hop'd for aid
To cruel Love my Soul was first betray'd.
poem by Michael Drayton
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The Usual Protest And The Unusual One
the usual protest is when you
say something for the person to know
that there is something that you do not like
and that you want that something to be
corrected or at least be improved a bit
but what you say falls on deaf ears
the unusual one comes next
you pretend that there is nothing wrong
that nothing is unusual
and that everything is smooth as usual
and you do not tell anymore that something
is wrong and both of you goes on with your lives
as though there is nothing wrong
and that you are well and
too submissive
and of course this pleases her
to her core
the other one asks if you're ok
in the middle of a cold weather
and you will say
everything is perfect
despite the shiver
and then she will find out that
one day you are gone
an empty house shall not
even tell her why
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Little Book
When the beloved disciple took
The angels' little open book,
Which by the Lord's command he eat,
It tasted bitter after sweet.
Thus when the gospel is embraced,
At first 'tis sweeter to the taste
Than honey, or the honey-comb,
But there's a bitterness to come.
What sweetness does the promise yield,
When by the Spirit's power sealed?
The longing soul is filled with good,
Nor feels a wish for other food.
By these inviting tastes allured,
We pass to what must be endured;
For soon we find it is decreed,
That bitter must to sweet succeed.
When sin revives and shows its pow'r.
When Satan threatens to devour,
When God afflicts and men revile,
We drag our steps with pain and toil.
When thus deserted, tempest-tossed,
The sense of former sweetness lost;
We tremble lest we were deceived
In thinking that we once believed.
The Lord first makes the sweetness known,
To win and fix us far his own;
And though we now some bitter meet,
We hope for everlasting sweet.
poem by John Newton
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Drinking Poetry
at first glance
you taste its first sip
it is bitter and had always been
as bitter as grief
and you drink it anyway
everyday
until then when bitterness
does not taste bitter anymore
and then you drink it anyway
everyday
and everyday you drink cup by cup
poetry
your friend do not believe you
doing this
they cannot take it anymore
you drinking this bitter
concoction
everyday
you are true to this calling
drinking poetry
until it has become your habit
your vocation
your mission to write all that you feel
all that you can
what they do not know
is this freedom this blood from poetry
bitter and salty and sometimes bland
has become so sweet as honey
and these sap caused the growth of
your feathers and wings
and then one day you fly away
far away so so far away
to that clouds and mountains to that castle of the gods
and goddesses
and there you drink with them
and there they welcome you as one of them
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Just A Taste Of Life
what i have in my hand
is a slice of pineapple
it is sweet
its sweetness lingers
in my tongue
and sticks to my brain
it is simply a slice
just a taste of this bigger life
ahead of us
i have another slice
to hand to you
take it
why waste some time
on bitter herbs
and sour grapes?
what i have is just a slice
of sweet pineapple
take it now
it is sweet
what do we have next?
we shall wait and see
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sakei
yasai ramen
hot and fuming to the
nose
tongue is
familiar to the
taste of
Japanese
noodles and you
recall same old faces
that make you smile
facing the
passing crowd of
people
in the mall
the banana split
comes later
beside
vanilla ice cream
you chin is
resting upon your
fist
everything is
tolerable here
until
the toy train comes
towed by a
plump white kid
whose hands are
tightly held by
a strict grandmother
what we see
sometimes turns sour
then bitter
at first glance
everything is sweet and
we think
that sweet is forever
and desirable
smooth relationships
nothing messy
but it is never that way
mind you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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