Whose design is this?
How, if food is without spice?
How, if life goes without spice?
Spice is variety.
Variety is option for change.
The left out one is cursed
And the one acquired is blessed.
The user is ever jubilant.
12.0.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Relative and Irrelevant
It's all relative and irrelevant.
An acquired taste one prefers.
If something is disliked,
It will not be bought.
And if it is...
What business is it of others?
The only reason why variety has been made,
The spice of everyone's life...
Is a way created to pay more taxes.
Not to appease diversity.
If that was a priority,
Fewer would be seen homeless and hungry.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Variety's the very spice of life, That gives it all its flavor.
quote by William Cowper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stimulant Spice To Life
while cherishing variety
thy pen the origin becomes
inspiration is for several
simple poems I deeply love
for one who thinks dreams
in stratum layered words
inter-dimensions wonders
appreciation adored variety
is stimulant spice to life
(Inspired by the writer and poetess Miroslava Odalovic)
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If variety is the spice of life, marriage is the big can of leftover Spam.
quote by Johnny Carson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Variety is the spice of love.
quote by Helen Rowland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Variety in Life
If sweetened foods be taken on most days,
Until aversion takes the upper hand:
The buds of taste seek foods in hotter ways,
And sweetened stuff must be put to remand.
One cannot have the same things o’er again,
Man wants a change and variety in life;
We want the sun and in-between the rain;
We want our joys be followed by some strife.
When things are done in dull monotony,
Discontent fills the heart and mind of man;
No man can live with mere acrimony;
We shut the windows, sometimes switch on fan.
Variety is the spice of life all say,
And that is why God gave us night and day!
7-9-2001
poem by John Celes
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To be individual, my friends, to be different from others, is the only way to become distinguished from the common herd. Let us be glad, therefore, that we differ from one another in form and in disposition. Variety is the spice of life, and we are various enough to enjoy one another's society; so let us be content.
quote by L. Frank Baum
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Competition is the spice of sports; but if you make spice the whole meal you'll be sick.
quote by George Leonard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Prior To Variety
Believe what you wish,
But you must admit...
Prior to variety adding to the spice of one's life,
There seemed to have been less conflict.
And very few objected,
To the limits of selections that fed appetites.
Now everyone ignites incited to fight,
Over whose delusions should be justified in spotlight.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The talking animal's
As I become, a fictitious narrative.
Creating a fable story, about a dog, cat and a mice.
The dog name Bog, the cat name Spat, and the mice is Spice.
Bog said to Spat, why are you chasing Spice?
Spat said, because, I want some of that rodent slice's.
So, you want to cut him into piece's.
I am hungry, Bog! Spice come to me, I protect you?
Okay Bog, I hope you really, going to protect me.
Spat get back, please! I don't want to hurt you?
So you think im a cat; I can't beat you?
We going to find out, Spat the big alley cat.
Bog the little mutt; you a bluff Bog.
Spat, end up, chasing the both of them.
poem by Derrick Clark
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Not Knocked Up
Knocked from a spot on top.
But not knocked up!
Or out of the loop.
I have my genes to thank for that.
Otherwise,
It would be obvious...
I was such a whore of words.
And happy not to be impregnated,
By every impression that came to lay...
Just for a 'quickie' to then leave!
To have me left desiring,
The same thing repeated...
Over and over again!
And I can't be loyal to just one expression.
Or addicted to the fit of it.
Variety is the spice of life.
And I like to switch it up!
And 'hopefully' will continue to practice,
Safe and satisfying mental deliveries.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Today I shall fly a kite
The spice of life: Variety,
To do the same thing every day
would drive me to insanity
I try to vary my routine,
not let myself get in a rut
I am a man not a machine
Today like every other day
there are some things that I must do.
I do them in a different way.
A set routine does not suit me
There is no deadline I must meet.
It’s my responsibility
to fill my life with interest.
And making changes works the best.
5-May-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Sonnet: Growth Of A Language
A language ought to grow up like a tree;
And lose its twigs and branches, leaves, may be;
Enlarge its trunk and spread its crown widely,
Yet, live and grow with time, immortally.
Most modern words, usages could be dead;
The needs of time will change its very form;
The style of hair can make a diff'rent head;
Yet, to a certain standard still conform.
All things must change or Life could be a bore;
Variety is the spice of life- all say;
New arguments could change its very core;
We cannot drink the same soup everyday.
A language must be dynamic always;
Yet, shines with splendor akin to Sun's rays.
poem by John Celes
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Consumed With Complexities
One's life is consumed with complexities.
The more one chooses with a decision,
To become duplicitous as we see others.
Since variety has become the spice of life,
As long as it is deemed available.
And accessible within one's reach.
A simplicity does not come easy,
For those seeking a basicness to live.
Once competition is discovered and practiced,
As a challenge one believes is needed...
One's consciousness opposes rejection,
With a wanting to 'get' and not to miss a thing.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Living Within Reduced Means
Variety may be the spice of life...
For those who can choose,
Whether or not...
To have beans and rice,
With a taste for steak.
Thawing to roast and bake,
In a pre-heated oven.
Some today see variety as a luxury.
And preparing rice and beans,
Has become a daily ritual.
Since fixed budgets,
Have arrived on their scenes.
Living within reduced means,
Is a reality for many that has demeaned.
And those still fortunate to have variety,
In their lives...
Stretch limited paychecks,
Realizing they have no idea...
What each day to them brings next.
Yet hopeful they are,
What is enjoyed today for them stays.
At least until that steak that thaws,
Is cooked.
And delivered in a presentation,
That is well done with vegetables...
Dripping deliciously and sautéed.
As seen in gourmet cookbooks.
And leftovers are as appreciated...
Without getting a dirty look.
From someone who believes...
An abundance of choices,
Will remain to feed their greed.
And prayers received are answered,
That returns them to an accustomed...
Feast of gluttony.
Without the fears of retribution,
That the stolen beef they eat...
Will not be taken from them by other thieves.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Baby sister
50% Sugar
40% Spice
10% Nice
You are a little star in my life
My baby sister your the sweetest thing
the greatest gift the Angels could bring
Take my hand little sister
and dont let go
Coz its your smile that makes my day brighter
O' I love you with all my heart
as friends as sisters we will never part
50% Suger
40% Spice
10% Nice
You are a little star in my life
poem by Jacqueline Louw
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Ain't Life Tedious?
'I don't know about you, sunshine,
But I think it's getting worse...
There was a time I thought things fine,
But now it's like a curse...'
'Us meerkats, always running round...
And looking left and right,
And scared to death of every sound,
Nerves shattered day and night! '
'The kids don't care! It's all a game!
We get no sympathy!
The faces change, yet life's the same
And that's what's bugging me! '
'Variety's the spice of life!
That's what the humans say!
But all I see is pain and strife...
Constant running away! '
'Just look at these short legs I've got,
I was taller last year!
And why must it always be hot?
Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear! '
'The humans drink Pepsi and Coke!
I think we should complain!
God, this is a terrible joke! '
Then it poured down with rain...
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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A Recipe
I found the best joint of beef, put him on ice,
just until I was hungry,
warmed the pot with a little spice...nice,
I do like some spice
and then, put the oven on to heat.
Took the big, fresh man out of the cooler
let him simmer for about a month
while I teased, prodded and skewered
with my wit and charms,
to see if he were done, yum, yum
Then when he was very hot and tender,
cooked right through to the bone,
I served him up with all the trimmings.
He looked so juicy sitting by the fireplace
I just couldn't help myself,
I gorged on his flesh until he was all gone.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Already Had To Be Used
A quality achieve will not leave,
Because of how it is rated.
Or placed on a list.
Ratings and kept lists,
Does not prove one comprehends,
With either common sense or intelligence.
Some flavors that may or may not taste better,
Aren't given that opportunity...
Until folks get bored with familiarity.
To then welcome more variety and spice they do,
In their lives seeking something different...
That does not necessarily have to be good,
But chosen over something proven to be dependable.
And this is nothing new to those who have already had...
To be used,
Their fifteen minutes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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