They sooth the common
Food that is raw,
Bed that is straws,
Song that is coarse
And the woman dull,
Repelling though
To connoisseurs,
Yet sooth the common.
30.09.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Syrup Sponge
Pour a pint of cream
Upon my spongy bulge!
Scoop me with a
Hefty spoon;
Taste my essence -
Do you swoon?
Feed your self-esteem; indulge
In me until you burst -
Death by syrup sponge - you're cursed!
And as the count in inches gain
Upon your weary waist, the strain
Will tell, but you'll not care -
Steeped in sponge, you're unaware!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food
food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Chauvinist
I’d never really comprehended such a mighty range of
Shapes and sizes down behind, it’s really rather strange:
The buttock muscle in a woman, overlaid with fat
Is actually such a focal point for men to want to pat
Or squeeze, and then to tease her if it’s eminently stout,
Or even risk a stay in clink to sting it with a clout!
After all, we men are tuned to be that way inclined –
And tho’ our needs are varied, girls, they’re all perverse of mind!
Best of all, our sacred dream: to see her shed her gown
When gliding to the shower for the ritual sponging down.
But then alas! With body lathered, oops! she drops the soap;
‘Please! ’ we beg her, ‘bend and bare! ’ But we can only hope!
I’m sure by now you get the picture – like a rule of thumb –
That men like me obsess all day about the fairer bum.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
My dreams are of a
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Her Hidden Treasure
Her flame was only for the women –
Not for us unlucky men;
A weakness lay for feminine way:
To feel an even fairer skin
In silky slide.
Her lips were for the satin love that
Only flows from rising breast;
The creamy tan was not for man
To pull towards a chiselled chest
In weathered hide.
Her hidden treasure down below
Would shy away from macho length
And only rouse upon the blouse
Undone by other sapphic strength –
In time, inside!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Reap repute.
Be not selfish and be not greedy.
They are repelling characters.
Incoming helps will be scanty.
Repute must weigh more than wealth.
21.05.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Nest
it smells stale like fish rotting in the drain
a mishmash of of straws from streets here and there
put together in a hurry the fasion of a frantic chase for love
and feathers a latter addition, they stuck onto the straws
starched by leftovers of food, of love, affection and faeces
here and there, little furry feathers orchestrate a dance
heralding a dream that has grown and flown away
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sing For The Common Man
You may not know me now
But I have been around
Youll never see my name on any pages
Im just the common man
The fool who understands
The pain you go through
When life takes you under
So, sing for the common man
A song for the common man
He paid for the song with the sweat of his brow
He will survive, he will survive
You may not know my mother
My sisters or my brothers
Yet everyone has given for the other
You know the working man
He builds what others plan
So, everyone of us should sing his story
So, sing for the common man
A song for the common man
He paid for the song with the sweat of his brow
He will survive, he will survive
Dat after day
He keeps working away
In offices, factories, and farms
Year after year
He sheds tear after tear
He will provide, he will survive
So, sing for the common man
A song for the common man
He paid for the song with the sweat of his brow
He will survive, he will survive
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Overweight with Food
Are you just a tub of lard and
Vastly overweight?
Do you think that when you die you'll
Need a piano crate
To act as coffin for your frame? -
Chosen as you die in shame, with
Only you to take the blame
For years of eating much the same:
A daily calorific fest
Gourmands of your ilk digest!
Is your heart in final fling and
Nearly set to burst?
Are your arteries bunged and clogged and
Feeling now the worst
For wear? - your aneurysm fit to blow
While blood as thick as rising dough
Cries 'Halt! ' to any hope of flow:
A dreadful state to put on show
In front of any nurse!
Best you hail a hearse.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Battered Doll
A red dress for blood spilt,
Torn blouse for flesh rent;
Ladders in the stockings –
A rung for every callous blow landed.
Scuffed shoes winked about the kicks –
After all, bruise-gorged eyes can’t –
Just permanently closed.
Burning tears were scant warmth
Against a chill from ugly cries.
Lipstick smudges on the chin to
Nullify all vestiges of beauty –
Those that constituted rare patches
Of purest cream skin, from
Days of feminine joy, telling once
Upon a time there was an angel…
But now, a battered doll.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman
woman woman
Woman
No more...
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Women for the Men
To clasp a silken-textured breast
Is nothing but a daily quest
Of preternatural drive.
We wonder of the fulsome fare
Her bra undone might bring to bear -
Disclosing all so we may stare
For hours on end upon the pair of
Why-do-woman's-curves-ensnare-
the-brains- of-men? -
A bleak affair,
And why we still survive!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Old Army Blanket
Coarse and ruff quite often thread bare
The soldier did not seem to care
Let the enemy try to take if he dare;
Coarse and ruff quite often thread bare
Driving rain or snow wearing his blanket
Coarse and ruff quite often thread bare.
Being a soldier he could expect no better fare,
Coarse and ruff, quite often thread bare
His fight done, read over with a prayer
Wrapped in the old grey Army blanket
Coarse and ruff quite often thread bare.
He did his duty few could compare,
Coarse and ruff, quite often thread bare
poem by Derrick Fernie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Her Bum
‘Does my bum look big in this? ’ She glared.
I gulped and stared upon the floor.
I must escape; the bedroom door
Was open. ‘Run! ’ my senses cried.
But I was numb – nerves were fried!
‘Well? ’ She scowled. I sought a subterfuge.
‘It’s absolutely huge! ’ I thought –
But how to tell her that–? A short
And blighted life she’d wreak on me.
And so to Wife, on bended knee
I prayed ‘Oh please release me from this hell! ’
She gave a yell: ‘So is it big? ’
I looked again – a mammoth rig
Was hanging down – but how to say?
An honest man would surely pay!
I stuttered ‘Err... well, yes it’s nice.’
Her voice was ice: ‘But in this? ’
I tried diversion with a kiss.
‘I love you’ also burbled out – but
I was heading for a rout.
I drew a breath. ‘Be a man! ’ I growled
Inside this howling, quaking head.
‘Well actually love, ’ and now I’m dead,
‘It’s colossal – a real whopper... ’
The bedroom shook; I couldn’t stop her.
I daren’t publish anymore…
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Salad is Incompatible with Life
Yes, my waist is fifty inches -
Big for me because I'm short.
And yes, I like my cheddar cheese
When partnered with a vintage port.
Okay, okay, that double cream
Is always served with pud,
And cake and biscuits with my tea
Are just no bloody good
For my poor hardened arteries,
But see my point of view,
Please dear wifey if you please,
A Salad makes me spew!
I'd rather eat a bowl of air
Than crunch away on greens;
Drink water from the toilet bowl
Or nibble on my jeans!
But salad! Are you there?
You know it makes me snappy -
So let me fill my face with grub,
Stay fat, and die young happy!
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Pinto Beans
Pinto beans in a little bowl,
'A La Charra' they are so good.
Talk about food to sooth the soul,
With a flour tortilla, oh yeah, thats food.
'Frijoles A La Charra' with anything,
With rice on the side, and fajitas too.
The comfort food of which I sing,
Pinto beans a love so true.
8/10/10 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
His life, though none too long, Was never dull: Of woman, wine and song Bill had his full.
quote by Robert Service
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Fish ‘n Chips - Food of Life
Oh how I crave for fish ‘n chips:
Our fine cuisine of world renown.
I dined on such a subtle dish
When QEII received her crown.
Oh how I need some fish ‘n chips;
I'll queue in pouring rain or snow!
What better way to warm my hands,
As soggy chips make fingers glow.
We Brits are famed for culinary finesse,
Like steak ‘n kidney pud no less;
Wondrous tripe; cottage pie;
Bangers and egg in lard to fry!
But fish ‘n chips - the crowning glory -
A dish to trounce the great kebab!
You think I care for chicken masala?
It's cod and chips that grow my flab.
Oh how I yearn for fish ‘n chips,
All poshly wrapped in the Daily Star,
Then caked and drowned in salt ‘n vinegar -
And stinking out my brand new car!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
Food food food food food food food of life
Food food food food food food food of life
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Our Lady
MOTHER of God! no lady thou:
Common woman of common earth
Our Lady ladies call thee now,
But Christ was never of gentle birth;
A common man of the common earth.
For God’s ways are not as our ways:
The noblest lady in the land
Would have given up half her days,
Would have cut off her right hand,
To bear the child that was God of the land.
Never a lady did He choose,
Only a maid of low degree,
So humble she might not refuse
The carpenter of Galilee:
A daughter of the people, she.
Out she sang the song of her heart.
Never a lady so had sung.
She knew no letters, had no art;
To all mankind, in woman’s tongue,
Hath Israelitish Mary sung.
And still for men to come she sings,
Nor shall her singing pass away.
‘He hath fillà d the hungry with good things’—
O listen, lords and ladies gay!—
‘And the rich He hath sent empty away.’
poem by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
2010 - A Year for Peace & Goodwill
A new year dawns as many before,
will 2010 bring what we ask for?
A peaceful future that all can share
with the wealthy showing that they care?
In my hopes as ever that would be the plan
for without compassion what distinguishes man?
We may have tools and brains to embrace
technologies to help the human race
But if those minds just persue all with greed
then we ignore those with more pressing need
For food and water would be such a gift
and a lack of greed could heal the rift
None have the right to just take and take
leaving nowt but dust in their hasty wake
To hold aloft their faith in that one supreme being
is an empty gesture for many without true feeling
Be they rich or poor in our western sphere
they all have more than those in fear
of finding no food or water fit to drink
so when we raise a glass let us pause and think
That 2010 should be the year when one and all
have something to smile on, large or small
when common sense rules over habitual greed
and we all join to plant a peaceful seed
(c) Rhumour
December 27th 2009
Some food
Some food is
Medicine...
Medicine is some food...
Some food is poison...
Some food is Tenson...
Some food is Fear...
Some food is lovely...
Some food is Bland...
Some food is sweety...
Some food is spicy...
Some food is nothing...
Food is not only food
A good eatable medicine...
At only some food...
Some food...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Frivolous incidents
Two women were washing on a river bank,
To which was approaching a handsome man.
Their eyes glanced up for his attention.
Attention secured, watching them assured,
They dropped their glances to start washing.
Watching, the man experienced sex.
Watched, the women experienced sex.
Such incidents happen so many
To man and woman to sooth their passions.
31.08.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Last Straw
(fish, steve rothery, mark kelly, pete trewavas, ian mosley)
Hotel hobbies padding dawns hollow corridors
A typewriter cackles out a stream of memories
Drying out a conscience, evicting a nightmare
Opening the doors for the dreams to come home
We live out lives in private shells
Ignore our senses and fool ourselves
To thinking that out there theres someone else cares
Someone to answer all our prayers, all our prayers...
Are we too far gone, are we so irresponsible
Have we lost our balls, or do we just not care
Were terminal cases that keep talking medicine
Pretending the end isnt quite that near
We make futile gestures, act to the cameras
With our made up faces and pr smiles
And when the angel comes down, down to deliver us
Well find out that after all, were only men of straw
But everything is still the same
Passing the time passing the blame
We carry on in the same old way
Well find out we left it too late one day to say what we meant to say
Just when you thought it was safe to go back to the water
Those problems seem to arise the ones you never really thought of
The feeling you get is similar to something like drowning
Out of your mind, youre out of your depth, you should have taken soundings
Clutching at straws, were clutching at straws, were clutching at straws
And if you ever come across us dont give us your sympathy
You can buy us a drink and just shake our hands
And youll recognise by the reflection in our eyes that deep down inside were all one and the same
Were clutching at straws
Were still drowning
Clutching at straws
Were still drowning, yeah clutching at straws
Im still drowning
Were clutching at straws
Im still drowning
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!