Learning The Art Of Loving
it is a hug that you need
when some parts of you dangle
on your shoulder
like the way your your hair
shouts for help
for fear of falling
and here i am coming
to hug you
this kind of hug that sings
the song of
apple pickers
and
garbage collectors
whose hands
are sworn
to clean the mess
and keep the pieces
to put them all away
and burn them
as often as necessary
i will hug you baby
but only for
a while
i am both
this apple picker somewhere
in the north
and a garbage collector
some place in the south
let us talk about
love some other time
i am still
learning the art of loving
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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It Is A Hug That You Need
When Some Parts Of You Dangle
On Your Shoulder
Like The Way Your Your Hair
Shouts For Help
For Fear Of Falling
And Here I Am Coming
To Hug You
This Kind Of Hug That Sings
The Song Of
Apple Pickers
And
Garbage Collectors
Whose Hands
Are Sworn
To Clean The Mess
And Keep The Pieces
To Put Them All Away
And Burn Them
As Often As Necessary
I Will Hug You Baby
But Only For
A While
I Am Both
This Apple Picker Somewhere
In The North
And A Garbage Collector
Some Place In The South
Let Us Talk About
Love Some Other Time
I Am Still
Learning The Art Of Loving
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red Apple, Red Apple
Red apple
Red apple
sitting on the ledge
savouring its nutrients
for a few moments longer
Red apple
Red apple
Savouring its time
That is has left
As a whole
Red apple
Red apple
Traveled such a
Long way, from the store?
Farm? another country?
Red apple
Red apple
Haunting me by
The curiosity of
How juicy you taste
Red apple
Red apple
Shine on,
Red apple
poem by John McAdam
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There Is No Escaping From The Garbage We Leave
At the end of any day,
A trash collector...
And someone else,
Who may have a Doctorate's degree...
Have the same thing in common!
Both have a lifetime association...
With the creation of garbage.
Whether that garbage is recycled or not!
Dropped on the street...
Or rolled up to put into one's pocket.
Regardless of 'who' is paid,
To pick their trash up...
Both can be observed,
Leaving something to forget...
To be hauled away from a curb.
And those perceptions of who we are,
With or without daily impressions to make...
Who we impress or charades we fake,
There is no escaping from the garbage we leave.
It's all over the place.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Loving That Taste For The Gutter
If they always call those they visit trash,
And on a daily basis they are around them.
What do they regard themselves?
Trash collectors?
Or recycled garbage...
Loving that taste for the gutter.
They can't leave it,
'Cause they come right back.
No matter what they call it they want it like that!
Because they love that taste for the gutter.
They love that taste for the gutter.
Whenever its suspected someone else will attack,
They will defend their trash with a coming back.
Because they love that taste for the gutter.
Yes they love that taste for the gutter.
They can't leave it,
'Cause they come right back.
No matter what they call it they want it like that!
Because they love that taste for the gutter.
They love that taste for the gutter.
If they always call those they visit trash,
And on a daily basis they are around them.
What do they regard themselves?
Trash collectors?
Garbage defenders?
Whenever its suspected someone else will attack,
They will defend their trash with a coming back.
Because they love that taste for the gutter.
Yes they love that taste for the gutter.
Garbage defenders,
Loving that taste for the gutter.
Trash collectors,
Loving that taste for the gutter.
But wont admit or quit,
Loving that taste for the gutter.
They can't leave it,
'Cause they come right back.
Because they love that taste for the gutter.
Garbage defenders,
Loving that taste for the gutter.
Trash collectors,
Loving that taste for the gutter.
But wont admit or quit,
Loving that taste for the gutter.
But wont quit,
That taste for the gutter.
Or admit...
A loving for the gutter.
And wont quit,
That taste for the gutter.
Or admit...
A loving for the gutter.
No they wont admit it,
A loving for the gutter.
Or...
Quit,
A taste they have for the gutter.
No they wont admit it,
A loving for the gutter.
Or...
Quit,
A taste they have for the gutter.
Or...
Quit,
A taste they have for the gutter.
No they wont admit it,
A loving for the gutter.
Or...
Quit,
A taste they have for the gutter.
Or...
Quit,
A taste they have for the gutter.
No they wont admit it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Apple Scruffs
Now Ive watched you sitting there
Seen the passers-by all stare
Like you have no place to go
But theres so much they dont know about apple scruffs
Youve been stood around for years
Seen my smiles and touched my tears
How its been a long, long time
And how youve been on my mind, my apple scruffs
Apple scruffs, apple scruffs
How I love you, how I love you
In the fog and in the rain
Through the pleasures and the pain
On the step outside you stand
With your flowers in your hand, my apple scruffs
While the years they come and go
Now, your love must surely show me
That beyond all time and space
Were together face to face, my apple scruffs
Apple scruffs, apple scruffs
How I love you, how I love you
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I’m So Proud Of My Murali Boy
I’m so proud of my son Murali
cos he’s always thinking smart
and efficient
I asked him the other day:
“Sonny boy
dear Murali
What’d you like to be
when you grow up? ”
And he says to me:
“I’ll be a garbage collector, Daddy”
And I say to him:
“O my dear boy -
why a garbage collector
of all the jobs? ”
And my little boy Murali
says, smart as he always is:
“Oh, Dad,
look at them:
they have such big trucks
and they work only once a week”
Oh yes, I’m so proud
of my little Murali
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Set Free
I remember once when your soul was clean
And also the time when that apple was green
The apple it grew from the tree upon its limb
And we matured from children, and grew into women and men
What happened to us then, was truly unforeseen.
I remember that apple, and it I would not pick
Though it was not deliberate or had it been a trick
So it grew all alone and then on the limb it rotted
From age and negligence it was also spotted
Now that apple disagreed with my body's politic.
I read and then I heard stories all about you
Sadly none were lies as they all were on the venue
We had been used and cheated as your soul had waited
Seems that was the purpose, that you were created
Never would I want to act or to become like you.
I read in the news that you had died
My reaction to that news I could not hide
As I remembered that rotten apple falling from the tree
Then it hit the ground, its essence was set free
So for you or the apple, I had not cried.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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A Garbage Can
Life is sometimes not as planned
What could be worse than a garbage can
For you are tossed and thrown away
just like the garbage to rot each day
Taken for granted by a ladies man
A woman is mistreated as much as she can
Love forsaken and lust Oozes out...
To put away his filth without any doubt
In the name of love this game is played
And it is defined as masquerade
The clock turns 8 and it's time to leave
The garbage is out and the man at ease
poem by Meena Mustafa
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My Apple Heart
(l. stansfield/i. devaney/a. morris)
Spoken:
Listen baby
Lets talk
I cant take this pressure
I need to love you
But I need to breathe too
Honey dont mouth off at me now
But Ive got to tell you a thing or two
Honey hear me out and sit down
Cos for some time its been on my mind
Bridge:
Never had a love so strong
Never had a love so right
A love this tight
Never had a love so fine
Baby its so divine
But you want too much time
Chorus:
You cant go on
Eating away at my apple heart
You cant go on
Worming your way through my apple heart
I just need a little more time
And you wont lose me
Ill love you more for it
Theres nothing more exciting
Than being in your arms
But baby listen to me
Sometimes youve got to let go
Bridge
Chorus (x2)
A little more space
And a little more time
And well be alright
Bridge
Chorus (x4)
We need to talk
You need to give me more time
song performed by by Lisa Stansfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just as there's garbage that pollutes the Potomac river, there is garbage polluting our culture. We need an Environmental Protection Agency to clean it up.
quote by Patrick Buchanan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Apple Seed
Spring is here
love it so dear.
Being an apple seed,
and doing my good deed.
Keeping the doctor away,
for many years this tree will stay.
Just waiting for picking time
and watching workers as they climb.
Seed to apple so sweet
working so hard what a feat.
Apple cider to apple pie,
selling apples for people to buy.
Being an apple seed
and doing my good deed.
Being picked off this tree
from this place I will flee.
wrote 4-30-07
If you put garbage in a computer nothing comes out but garbage. But this garbage, having passed through a very expensive machine, is somehow ennobled and none dare criticize it.
quote by Rory Bremner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Apple
The apple was yet to be red
Yet some tasted it
It tasted sour to some
And mixed to some
There were so many
Waiting for the apple
To be red.
When the apple turned red
Some tried it
Some joined in a hurry
Some in light some in darkness
Never the less
The apple grew bigger and bigger
And turned red and more red
Day by day
People increased in number
Eating, tasting
Coming and going
Making their own judgements
Once for all.
They kept on going down the hill
For all time to come.
poem by Subrat Pradhan
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Like You Do (feat. Method Man)
[Method Man]
Hey love, hey love
Hey love, whoo, hmm-hmm-hmm
Yo hey love you're the girl that I adore
Every time I go on tour
I want you more and more
Ma I am yours, mi amor
My ghetto Zsa Zsa Gabor
Don't be snitching to the law
Or ever give up my draws
You're Fly Robin Fly
That apple of my eye
Crooked eye this is what it sounds like when thugs cry
Baby you're like the silent kind
That can tell a good joke, my funny valentine
Roll an L and still smoke it at the same time
Blow your spine I ain't got to ask whose - is this
You know it's mine FOREVER
Stop the regrets and baby let's get it together
Taking these vows for worst or better
And if so I got you
Holding you down like your pops do
You were the pants I'll were the crown
Ain't nobody gon' love you this way
And ain't nobody gon' f- like Jolly J
[Kelly]
I had enough of love
Was tired of the lying and the game
I told myself that men were all the same
Then suddenly my world began to change
Cause that's when I found you
Ain't nobody
Loving me like you do baby
Can't nobody
Make me feel the way I'm feeling
Ain't nobody
Loving me like you do baby
No one for me like you baby
Now I can smile again baby
Cause lonely days are gone since you are here
Erase the pain and changed the way I feel
Now I believe that love can be for real
I pray that you never leave
Ain't nobody
Loving me like you do baby
Can't nobody
Make me feel the way I'm feeling
Ain't nobody
Loving me like you do baby
No one for me like you baby
Don't mean to brag -acap
song performed by by Kelly Price
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Apple Pie Sweet Stuff
Sweet love like honey-bunch-oaks,
rub me down like mummylocks,
the core so round and deep,
juice be the seeds,
candy apple-red-bone,
maybe that's why she stay,
cause that woman love sweet-talk,
never thought I would see the day,
that my arms would be hugging,
back to the sweet stuff,
I'm not trying to wife her,
cause she wouldn't man me,
that apple pie good as a pecan pie,
wears glasses to protect from stream,
cooking smoke into the flame,
call her red-bone-honeyoaks,
seduction oh baby oh my,
digging into the core of fire,
like that apple won't be-tomarrow,
what a pie if you had one,
my apple pie sweet stuff.
poem by Tommy Laster
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First Love
you had swept back your bangs for the first time
when I saw you under the apple tree
the flower-comb in your hair
I thought you yourself were a flower too.
you stretched out your pale white hand gently
giving me an apple:
like the ripening red of the autumn fruit
my first feeling of love
my sigh, without any awareness
touched your hair
the joys of love's offerings
drinking your love...
under a tree in the apple orchard
nature's narrow road
who left this token here?
your question gave me a piercing pleasure.
poem by Shimazaki Toson
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Ro Ro Rosey
Ro ro ro ro ro ro ro rosey,
Ro ro ro ro ro ro ro rosey.
Youre the apple of my eye,
Ice cream in my cherry pie, pie.
Shes just sixteen and shes not yet grown,
She never goes out on her own.
She lives way up on the avenue of trees,
Where I chanced to walk in the cool night breeze.
And i, I see her face, her smile, her hair,
I cry, oh, uh uh uh uh, uh uh uh uh.
Ro ro ro ro ro ro ro rosey,
Ro ro ro ro ro ro ro rosey.
Youre the apple of my eye,
Ice cream in my cherry pie, pie,
Huh uh, huh uh, huh uh.
She came on walking down the avenue and I said,
Baby, can I come in, baby, can I come in
And love you one more time ?
She said, I love you, babe.
I said, d-d-d-do you, whoa woman, do you,
Do you love me ?
Ro ro ro ro ro ro ro rosey,
Ro ro ro ro ro ro ro rosey.
Youre the apple of my eye,
Ice cream in my cherry pie.
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Y... Garbage Man
Become a garbage man
Every day, just for a minute
Search for some litter
Pick up some garbage
Where ever you can
Don't stoop down.
Not good for the back
Just sit on your heels
Stay squatted and look up
It gives you a special perspective
Pick up a hand full
Walk to the bin
Not the nearest
The walking is exercise
Good for your body
So, become a garbage man
It can give you perspective
It is good for your body
It is good for the world
Just a hand full per day.
-
Note:
Garbage men really deserve ou full respect.
I got the idea to write this piece when I was picking up a handful of garbage from the beach. I thought if there more people picking up garbage than people throwing garbage, littering would no longer be a problem.
I hope in this poem there is nothing disrespectful of garbage men. They really do a great job en deserve our respect as much as doctors and lawyers deserve our respect (as indicated in the comments by unwritten soul below)
poem by Aufie Zophy
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Don't Drop Your Garbage
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!
Don't dropp your garbage at my front door.
Get to steppin' take it back.
No one seeks to hear your preaching.
Or your point of view described while you teach'.
With self righteous sighs.
Too many sitting on the edge are jumpy.
And twice as many want to fight.
Don't dropp your garbage.
Get from my door and get to steppin'.
Don't want to regret what I do.
I wish to keep that evil sleepin'.
Don't wake it up,
I ask of you!
Don't dropp your garbage at my front door.
Get to steppin' take it back.
No one seeks to hear your preaching.
Or your point of view described while you 'teach'.
With your self righteous sighs.
Too many sitting with an edge are jumpy.
And twice as many look to fight.
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!
Don't dropp your garbage!
I'd like to keep myself polite.
Get away!
I don't want to get those demons screaming.
Or stir a yelling to disturb my peaceful night.
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I see a lot of people who love their jobs. I see some garbage collectors smiling as they go about their work.
quote by Willie Stargell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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