Pea Soup
In my usual morning pea soup mist, rubbing my sleepy eyes,
I saw what I thought was a stooped old man slowly walking by.
My dreamy world cleared a bit when I realised he was bleeding
and the stoop of his back made me stop to think
just why his life had come to this.
He wheeled a shopping trolley but he wasn't near a shop.
He seemed to walk with purpose but I knew that he was lost.
Nobody seemed to notice, nobody seemed to care.
Most of them still in a pea soup mist going about their affairs.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Related quotes
Soup Of The Day
Well she thinks shes looking so cool
She thinks shes great but shes just a fool
What awful lack of class makes this kind behave this way
I look and only think of one thing to say
Soup, shes just soup
Soup of the day
Shes thin around the waistline
Thin around the brain
You see this type so many times
Time and time again
How could they really think
Theyd be treated in any other way
Everybodys looking and everybody say
Soup, shes just soup
Soup of the day
Well youd think theyd know better
That behaving in this way
They think theyre being clever
But I really have to say
Youd better think it over
Youll regret it one fine day
When the circus partys over
And you were just soup of the day
Shes just soup
Soup of the day
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Answers
I wrote a poem on the mist
And a woman asked me what I meant by it.
I had thought till then only of the beauty of the mist,
how pearl and gray of it mix and reel,
And change the drab shanties with lighted lamps at evening
into points of mystery quivering with color.
I answered:
The whole world was mist once long ago and some day
it will all go back to mist,
Our skulls and lungs are more water than bone and tissue
And all poets love dust and mist because all the last answers
Go running back to dust and mist.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Talk Soup
I dated siamese twins
I slept with bigfoot, too
Get me on sally jesse
Put me on donahue
cause I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
My dogs a narcoleptic
My moms a circus freak
I gotta get a spot on
Geraldos show this week
cause I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
Im just an anorexic codependant bingo addict
Stripper born without a chin
And Im only comfortable talking about it
When the whole wide world is listening in
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
My wife ran off with elvis
My boss shaved off my hair
Ive got a thing for poodles
And rubber underwear
And I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
I had a close encounter
I never chew my food
I got eleven nose jobs
I yodel in the nude
And I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
Im just a cross-dressin alcoholic neo-nazi
Porno star, as you may have guessed
And Im really gonna feel a whole lot better
If you let me get this thing off my chest
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Im just your average schizophrenic nymphomaniac
Albino go-go dancer, you see
Nothin so bad that I cant share it
With a billion friends on national tv, whoa...
I have no genitalia
I sold my kids for cheese
I love my blow up doll, so
Bring out those cameras, please
cause I wanna tell the world about it
Right now
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
Talk soup... talk soup
Listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me, (listen to me) listen to me
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What You Never Knew
I first remember you from way back, when I was just a kid. You stopped your life and reached down to spend time with me.
I guess I'm getting rather old now, as I look back and wistfully wish. Wish that things would go back to how they use to be.
Cause you ain't there no more, to spend some time with me, find something for me to do, walk beside me, catch me when I fall.
Now I find that I'm all alone in a cold cruel world, faltering, running scared. I'm tired of running, I don't want to run no more.
Now I think I've found what you felt. The loneliness, the desolation, the desire to belong: the longing for someone who adores everything you do.
Well that was me, I followed you round. My little eyes watched your every move. You were my idol, but you never knew, that I was following you.
I would be your slave, your servant, whatever you bid. Who cares, as long as I got to be your accomplice.
Come the good times, yeah, come the trouble, I'll be there, anything just to get on your 'good friend's list.
I guess I'll never really know, if you knew I was watching, or if you were ignorant. But sometimes I wish that I knew, cause ignorance ain't always bliss.
If only you knew, how each morning, I stared into the mist, waiting for you to appear, but after so long, it's all boiled down to this.
What you never knew, is I loved you with every fiber and being of my heart. If there ever was a thing as the perfect devotee, that was me. Nothing could stop me.
What you never knew, is that I would move heaven and earth to stay close, but you let the mountains and giants make you flee.
As time passed, things got in my way. You let them cloud your vision, I didn't clear them out fast enough. Don't really know how it all collapsed.
Maybe I wasn't hard enough. Maybe I was too caring. Maybe I should have been more point-on. Maybe I should have followed my heart, but now it's crashed.
What you never knew, is that I didn't care what inflicted you, because I would walk through hell, just to carry through.
What you never knew, is that all I really cared about was you.
Story behind the poem:
There are so many things that we 'never knew'. Perhaps if we actually took the time, we might be able to discover some of those things.: D
GZ
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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The Eyes In Back Of My Head
Early this morning I am outside walking along the trail-
The wind blows my hair about-
Covering THE EYES IN THE BACK OF MY HEAD-
I cannot see for the moment but I can feel-
I can feel the vibrations of heavy footsteps
Pounding against my brain in another gust of wind
Blowing my hair about- giving way to the
EYES IN THE BACK OF MY HEAD-
I recognize the intruders who wish me harm.
Early this morning
I walk along the trail- I am in danger-people are following me
One, two and three-I count the footsteps-
Four five six- I see the people-
Evil conniving and threatening- behind me and
Seven, eight, nine more slowly walking in front of me-
My anger overwhelms me and the bitter cold wind
Only exacerbates my homicidal impulses-
I am dressed to kill these people who
Walk slowly ahead of me- space invaders
Whose footsteps are retaliating and
THE EYES IN THE BACK OF MY HEAD-
Envision the whole world behind me-
Early this morning- I think of the gun shop I walked by downtown yesterday-
Ready to murder, I am- seething with rage-
Early this morning, I am walking along the trail-
I do not feel safe- I have lost my destination and
My sanity is precarious- people are all around me and
I am dressed to kill the entire multitude-
I have EYES IN BACK OF MY HEAD- I believe, and
As I count the people before me and behind me, and
As the cold wind blows my hair about- I know that
THE EYES IN BACK OF MY HEAD are protecting me and
Perhaps are keeping me safe and now I know that it is
THE EYES IN BACK OF MY HEAD whom are my saviors -
Bringing back memories of nightmarish delusions of
Threatening people in my past being God- I have no destination and
THE EYES IN BACK OF MY HEAD are my friends- and
My delusions, as others call them- are my saving grace.
poem by Claudia Krizay
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winter mist
another bowl
of veggie soup
haiku by Chenou Liu
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Lost Friend
This can’t be the end it can’t be through
I loved you like a sister and now I’m feeling blue
Did this all stop when we realised we were too old for games
Or did it stop when we realised we were already tamed
Deep inside I cry for your friendship
I valued its warmth
It was better than a gift it was even better then chocolate
As you made me smile more than any of them did
The conversations we use to have would always leave as in tears of laughter
But now they have just stopped
And slowly since our friendship has slipped away
I noticed it wasn’t just our friendship,
I was slowly slipping away too
The laughter went out of me I started to look sad
I don’t want this to end bad
I would trade all the gifts, all the chocolate, and even the world
Just to hear u say
Them two little words
To make me feel complete
All I want to be is best friends all over again
poem by Allesia Bridle
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The Shopping Trolley Man
Every day for eight hours or maybe more
He walks up and down through the car park by the big food store
On the lookout for unreturned shopping trolleys for each one he returns a dollar is his pay
The most he might earn would be thirty dollars a day.
An ageing man of three score and ten maybe
By the big food store he is one you always see
To supplement his pension the unreturned trolleys he takes back
Despite his age in the will to work he does not lack.
His given name i do believe is Stan
But all of the locals know him as 'the shopping trolley man'
Tall and slightly stooped with gray beard and silver hair
Out of what he does he will never become a millionaire.
For the effort he puts in so little is his gain
He is there every day in sunshine or in rain
Yet one might say he's a hardy old boy
And what he does he does seem to enjoy.
To his toilsome task he remains ever true
And credit him since credit he is due
For each unreturned trolley he returns a dollar he is paid
Than this there's easier money by far to be made.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Supper
The supper of the red soup came with love,
And Veh came along with Xeh as the next door neighbours;
But Beh was my friend on the supper of the red soup,
And i will take Beh back home on this love.
The pictures of my mind brought up wonderful colours,
And of the muse of the red soup so enjoyed last night;
But i will take Beh back home to embrace my love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I was wrong: So what. todays idiocy
I say that it’s impossible.
You cannot eat soup with chop sticks
Though it is highly probable.
Someone will try to prove he can.
To demonstrate his cleverness
and show he is a better man.
What will it prove should he succeed?
That I’m mistaken in my view.
I will be happy to concede
.
the victory to some buffoon.
Who can eat soup using chop sticks.
I still prefer to use a spoon.
I think soup should be eaten hot
I do not like cold soup a lot.
20/06/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Sleepy Eyes
Your sleepy eyes have a dreamy look,
suggesting you are far away,
thinking of some distant thoughts,
rekindled by a memory,
of a special place in the long ago,
when love lit up your life,
and planted special memories there.
Memories to call upon at sad times,
to brighten up your life,
prevent you from falling low
into some kind of depression.
So your sleepy eyes and dreamy look,
have somewhere to take you to,
a world away from the things,
that are troubling you.
poem by David Harris
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Not There
He wasn't absent!
He was just not there.
He was the kind to prioritize
His own affairs.
Often he was defended...
By a mother who pretended,
He was just away on 'leave'
And will return when that purpose ended!
But those in his care,
Felt he was the one not aware.
He was not there...
And that is all they knew!
Unless he was a magician?
And 'that' he wasn't around,
To deny or prove!
He wasn't absent!
He was just not there.
To watch,
Or to lay...
A footprint down on the ground!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You cook vegetable soup
You cook vegetable soup
and I look at you
while you cut green beans,
carrots, onions, celery, parsley
and tomatoes into two pots.
There are herbs, spices
and pepper that you are scattering
and two types of soup powder
that you throw in
and the pots steam and buzz
while I am washing the dishes
and the smell
makes me hungry
and I wonder
if the soup
are going to taste as good
as it smells.
We drink tee
and there’s medicine
that you give for flu
to me
and it’s great
to be with you
to read the look
in your beautiful eyes.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Happy hoot of a good day
Tomorrow is almost here,
gonna wait for it
and just relax for today.
Can you feel it,
tomorrow morning,
everything will be fun.
Going to go shopping for,
banana's, milk and orange juice.
Going to go buy something,
just for me to enjoy.
Pizza, oreo cookies, pancakes
and even a small bowl of pho soup.
Yum Yum!
I love tomorrow and shopping day.
poem by Jackie Anderson
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Beneath a morning mist
Beneath a morning mist
~
A morning mist hides
the potential of a beautiful sky
low cloud covers streets and roads
the moist dew of the air
cold against the skin
a freshness to the lungs
welcomed regardless
eyes look into the nothingness
eagerly anticipating the sun
to break through its light
and warm the gardens
meanwhile the mist is silent
quietly haunting all
this is just a day beginning
lets pray its beautiful
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Shop, she shops!
Once she constantly smiled
Bought cloths and jewelry that gave her style
Shop, shop, shop
She shopped till she dropped
Shop, shop, shop
She just could not seem to stop
Her credit was on top
Her spending way rocket up
She paid with cash or credit card
This Lady was absolutely shopping mad
Shoping malls!
Markets stalls!
Shoes, clothing, and handbags she bought all year long
Spend, spend and spend daily was her beloved song
Shop, shop, shop
She now shops like a flop
Shop, shop, shop
This lady has now put a stop
Today is different shopping expedition
This time spending with supervision
No more that crazy spending addiction
Her credit card is cut
Her goods seized, the whole lot
Today she spends, her pockets hurt!
She has become street wise
Haggling with each price
She has become precise
About what she needs and not what is nice
Shop, shop, shop
She shops like a flop
Shop, shop, shop
Her spending has taken a big drop!
This lady has now put a stop to shop!
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Another clown
the clown with red nose
the clown with green ears
the clown with yellow cheeks
the clown with webbed feet
the children don’t like the clowns
all clowns
all the children are scared by all clowns
the child with orange hairs
the child with blue eyes
the child with pink smiles
the child with wide eyes
the clown don’t like the children
all children
all the clowns want to kill all children
the clown get back at home
He shouts: I hate the children
then he eats the soup of day
quietly smiling
the child get back at home
He shouts: I hate the clowns
then he eats the soup of day
quietly smiling
But the worst is forthcoming:
one child among one million
will become a clown
Me I am not a child
I am not a clown and
I do not like the soup
luckily
all sad stories have an end
and here I write a full stop
poem by Jean Francois Le Goff
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Memory In The Mist
Looking through the
mist of the past
Hearing the ego of
your voice in my dreams
Seeing your shadow in
our secret places
Your voice caught me
without a warning
Fire of hate burning
Why didn’t I listen
to the voices of
warnin’
The snake at the back
of your voice
That was so perfectly
disguise as an angel
Walking slowly through
the rain of my tears
Memories of us are
running through my
mind,
cuts me open
without a warning
The rose of promise
in your eyes
Trying to catch the
fallen promises
Reaching for a
Disneyland love
Remember the words
you spoke
Your gentle touch
on my skin
The soft glance in
your eyes
If only I could see
the twisted lies
underneath the beauty
You’re the only one
who really knew me
If only I could let
you turn around
and see the leaves-pain
fell
Now, your face is
just a memory in
the mist
poem by Chanelle Strijdom
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Mist Of Desire
Well, here it comes again
That old feelin' so strong
You came into my life
I won your love for a song
And when I see you in my mind baby
Think of the words you will say
And in a mist of desire
Your love takes me away
Girl you take me away
In a mist of desire
And our love's not an ember baby
It's a raging fire
I need to be with you
What else can I say
In a mist of desire
Your love takes me away
I feel the love when we touch
I can see it in your face
I get lost in the shadows of your warm embrace
And you rush into my arms
My emotions run wild
And we're off to a love world
In a mist of desire
Girl you take me away
In a mist of desire
And our love's not an ember baby
It's a raging fire
I need to be with you
What else can I say
In a mist of desire
Your love takes me away
In a mist of desire
Your love takes me away
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Dark Shadows.
the pepper pot
towards the nun
on her right.
The salt follows
once more given
a gentle shove.
To understand
another’s need
without them asking,
an elderly nun
had said.
A nun is reading
from a high desk
in the refectory.
Some book on Cromwell,
a life, back whenever when.
She sips her soup,
the French soup spoon
held in her right hand.
The nun on her left
passes the water jug.
Offers to pour.
Sister Felicity nods
and smiles.
The nun pours
a liberal amount
then puts down the jug.
Opposite an elderly nun
dribbles soup,
her shaky hand
missing the target.
Nan did that.
How can one forget?
She remembers
her grandmother’s
slow decline;
the slippery slope
down to the side ward
in the dank hospital.
Onion soup. Too hot.
She blows to cool.
Sunlight reaches down
through high windows.
Worlds explode
in dark shadows.
poem by Terry Collett
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