Ch 02 The Morals Of Dervishes Story 22
It is related that a hermit consumed during one night ten mann of food and perused the whole Quran till morning. A pious fellow who had heard of this said: ‘It would have been more excellent if he had eaten half a loaf and slept till the morning.’
Keep thy interior empty of food
That thou mayest behold therein the light of marifet.
Thou art empty of wisdom for the reason
That thou art replete with food up to the nose.
Related quotes
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
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Thou must be emptied of that wherewith thou art full, that thou mayest be filled with that whereof thou art empty.
quote by Saint Augustine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ch 04 On The Advantages Of Silence Story 14
A fellow with a disagreeable voice happened to be reading the Quran, when a pious man passed near, and asked him what his monthly salary was. He replied: ‘Nothing.’ He further inquired: ‘Then why takest thou this trouble?’ He replied: ‘I am reading for God’s sake.’ He replied: ‘For God’s sake do not read.’
If thou readest the Quran thus
Thou wilt deprive the religion of splendour.
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
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Ch 01 Manner Of Kings Story 03
I have heard that a royal prince of short stature and mean presence,
whose brothers were tall and good-looking, once saw his father
glancing on him with aversion and contempt but he had the shrewdness
and penetration to guess the meaning and said: 'O father, a puny
intelligent fellow is better than a tall ignorant man, neither is
everything bigger in stature higher in price. A sheep is nice to eat
and an elephant is carrion.'
The smallest mountain on earth is Jur; nevertheless
It is great with Allah in dignity and station.
Hast thou not heard that a lean scholar
One day said to a fat fool:
'Although an Arab horse may be weak
It is thus more worth than a stable full of asses.'
The father laughed at this sally, the pillars of the state
approved of it, but the brothers felt much aggrieved.
While a man says not a word
His fault and virtue are concealed.
Think not that every desert is empty.
Possibly it may contain a sleeping tiger.
I heard that on the said occasion the king was menaced by a powerful
enemy and that when the two armies were about to encounter each other,
the first who entered the battlefield was the little fellow who said:
'I am not he whose back thou wilt see on the day of battle
But he whom thou shalt behold in dust and blood.
Who himself fights, stakes his own life
In battle but he who flees, the blood of his army.'
After uttering these words he rushed among the troops of the
enemy, slew several warriors and, returning to his father, made humble
obeisance and said:
'O thou, to whom my person appeared contemptible,
Didst not believe in the impetuosity of my valour.
A horse with slender girth is of use
On the day of battle, not a fattened ox.'
It is related that the troops of the enemy were numerous, and that
the king's, being few, were about to flee, but that the puny youth
raised a shout, saying: 'O men, take care not to put on the garments
of women.' These words augmented the rage of the troopers so that they
made a unanimous attack and I heard that they gained the victory on
the said occasion. The king kissed the head and eyes of his son,
took him in his arms and daily augmented his affection till he
appointed him to succeed him on the throne. His brothers became
envious and placed poison in his food but were perceived by his sister
from her apartment, whereon she closed the window violently and the
youth, shrewdly guessing the significance of the act, restrained his
hands from touching the food, and said: 'It is impossible that men
of honour should die, and those who possess none should take their
place.'
No one goes under the shadow of an owl
Even if the homa should disappear from the world.
This state of affairs having been brought to the notice of the
father, he severely reproved the brothers and assigned to each of them
a different, but pleasant, district as a place of exile till the
confusion was quelled and the quarrel appeased; and it has been said
that ten dervishes may sleep under the same blanket but that one
country cannot hold two padshahs.
When a pious man eats half a loaf of bread
He bestows the other half upon dervishes.
If a padshah were to conquer the seven climates
He would still in the same way covet another.
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
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Be Thou My Vision
Be thou my vision, oh lord of my heart
Nought be all else to me, save that thy art
Thou my best thought in the day and the night
Waking or sleeping, thou presence my light
Be thou my wisdom, be thou my true word
I ever with thee and thou with me lord
Thou my great father and I thy true son
Thou in me dwelling and I with thee one
Be thou my breastplate, my sword for the fight
Be thou my armour and be thou my might
Thou my soul shelter, and thy my high tower
Raise thou me heavenwards, oh power of my power
Riches I need not, nor mans empty praise
Thou mine inheritance through all of my days
Thou and thou only though first in my heart
High king of heaven my treasure thou art
Oh high king of heaven, when battle is done
Grant heavens joy to me, bright heaven sun
Christ of my own heart, whatever befall
Still be my vision, though ruler of all
Da, da, da, da, da, etc.
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If all things are in common among friends, the most precious is Wisdom. What can Juno give which thou canst not receive from Wisdom? What mayest thou admire in Venus which thou mayest not also contemplate in Wisdom? Her beauty is not small, for the lord of all things taketh delight in her. Her I have loved and diligently sought from my youth up.
quote by Giordano Bruno
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Υμνος αυμνος
O Thou whose image in the shrine
Of human spirits dwells divine;
Which from that precinct once conveyed,
To be to outer day displayed,
Doth vanish, part, and leave behind
Mere blank and void of empty mind,
Which wilful fancy seeks in vain
With casual shapes to fill again!
O Thou that in our bosom’s shrine
Dost dwell, unknown because divine!
I thought to speak, I thought to say,
‘The light is here,’ ‘behold the way,’
‘The voice was thus,’ and ‘thus the word,’
And ‘thus I saw,’ and ‘that I heard,’—
But from the lips that half essayed
The imperfect utterance fell unmade.
O Thou, in that mysterious shrine
Enthroned, as I must say, divine!
I will not frame one thought of what
Thou mayest either be or not.
I will not prate of ‘thus’ and ‘so,’
And be profane with ‘yes’ and ‘no,’
Enough that in our soul and heart
Thou, whatso’er Thou may’st be, art.
Unseen, secure in that high shrine
Acknowledged present and divine,
I will not ask some upper air,
Some future day to place Thee there;
Nor say, nor yet deny, such men
And women saw Thee thus and then:
Thy name was such, and there or here
To him or her Thou didst appear.
Do only Thou in that dim shrine,
Unknown or known, remain, divine;
There, or if not, at least in eyes
That scan the fact that round them lies,
The hand to sway, the judgment guide,
In sight and sense Thyself divide:
Be Thou but there,—in soul and heart,
I will not ask to feel Thou art.
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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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
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Ch 08 On Rules For Conduct In Life - Admonition 20
O thou asker of food, sit for thou wilt eat; and 0 thou asked by death, run not for thou wilt not save thy life.
Whether thou strivest for a maintenance or not
God the most high and glorious will send it to thee;
And if thou rushest into the jaw of a lion or tiger
They will not devour thee unless on the day decreed.
Ch 02 The Morals Of Dervishes Story 33
A padshah asked a hermit: ‘How spendest thou thy precious time?’ He replied: ‘I am all night engaged in prayer, during the morning in supplications and the rest of the day in restricting my expenses.’ Then the king ordered a sufficient allowance to be allotted to him so as to relieve him of the cares of his family.
O thou who art encumbered with a family,
Think no more of ever enjoying freedom.
Cares for children, raiment and food
Restrain thee from the heavenly kingdom.
Every day I renew my determination
To wait upon God until the night.
In the night, while tying the knot of prayer,
I think what my children will eat on the morrow.
Vangie's Cuisine...
Food, food, food…Vangie’s food…
You can find them in FACE BOOK
Mouthwatering cuisine of Filipinos food
Let’s get together and have a look…..
Pretty Vangie is the cook
Using delicate hand to cook the food
Her expertise is out of this world
Nothing can beat her skills of food….
I look at it everyday
To see what’s the menu for today
Tummy now that was once empty
Is now full of what she cooked for that day! ! ! !
-xxx-
poem by Rachel Hill
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No Food
I wake up every morning
stomach growling
No food to eat but
Momma won't let me tell nobody
Not even Jesus
When Momma leaves I'm happy because
For a second I think
That when she comes back
She'll have something to eat
But still-no food
The Roman Noodles are gone
Momma ate the last pack this morning
And I'm getting weaker
By the moment
Because there is no food
And when I get to school
I sneak to the bathroom and cry
My friends ask what's wrong
I tell them it's something in my eye
And- they believe me
And when I go home
Which is this abandoned house off in the woods
I hug my Momma because I know she did
The best she could with what she had
It just didn't work out
I didn't blame her because she
Put her trust in a man who
Not only verbally abused her but beat her, too
Which is why I entitle this poem No Food
She apologizes to me everyday
I ask het the reason why
But all she does is close her eyes and cry
And I wash those tears from her eyes
No food
Momma there's no reason to cry
I tell her; and she holds my hand
As tight as she possibly can
And says one day I will understand
And still- we have no food
She dies
Right there in my arms
Ironically the same place she held
Me- in her arms
The day I was born
No food, no lights,
No one around to hear
Finally, all her pain is gone
After all of these years
poem by Ebony Davis
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A Food For Everything!
Meals are the food for the body;
Knowledge is the food for the mind;
Meditation is the food for the spirit;
Music is the food for the love of heart;
Dreams are the food for the consciousness;
Prayer is the food for the Almighty;
Love is the food for the living heart;
Thoughts are the food for the brain;
Colourful ink is the food for the pen;
Ideas are the food for the stories;
Truth is the food for the will;
Sun’s energy is the food for the plants;
Plants are the food for the living beings;
But one man’s food is another man’s poison!
poem by Ramesh T A
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We Cry for Food and They Give Us Bullets
Food! Food! Food!
It is all that we need
It is all that we need
to calm down our spirits!
It is food that fills
that fills the empty pangs
of our stomachs,
pangs that make us yawn
but cannot sleep
that make us gulp
but cannot vomit,
that make our saliva
taste sour and acidic!
We cry for food
like the helpless little children
with the art to attract attention
by our street demonstrations.
Yes, we cry for food like little children
to calm down our spirits,
that the cry cannot at all be neglected
for it is food,
it is food that soothes our spirits.
But you give us bullets
on the streets where we stage
our cry for food
You give us bullets
instead of food.
But even bullets cannot silence
our cry for food
for as long as we`re hungry
we shall be like little children
that will ever cry for food.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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My Light Thou Art
My light thou art, without thy glorious sight
My eyes are darkened with eternal night;
My Love, thou art my way, my life, my light.
Thou art my way, I wander if thou fly;
Thou art my light, if hid, how blind am I!
Thou art my life, if thou withdraw'st I die.
Thou art my life; if thou but turn away,
My life's a thousand deaths. Thou art my way;
Without thee, Love, I travel not, but stray.
poem by Lord John Wilmot
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Food is god
Food is god
for poor people...!
God is not
Only food...
Rich home
Dog is eat
Nice food...
That food is god...?
yes that also
A god...
Good food is
God...
What is good food...?
Given good health
Always good food...
So...
Non veg
Or veg...
Every good food
Is god...
Simply sit
Silentely eat food
With out hot
And cool drinks...
Food is not only
Poor's god...
With each and
Every one also
food is god...
Give respect and
Take food...
Happley too try too
Thank for god...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Eating Disorder?
eating disorder, or is it?
it's eat or be eaten, you can't miss it,
that's the order of the disorder, border to border,
you're hooked to a food chain, hooked on a food train.
you come into this world, cut from a chord,
made from food, your overlord,
As decades roll by, food becomes you,
because you got to refuel to do what you do.
so you keep eating till you die,
(you just couldn't stay away from that last french fry,)
But don't you worry about who, what and why,
it's the cosmic menu, so don't cry.
poem by Richard Jarboe
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My Name Is Jacob
Nay, I cannot let Thee go,
Till a blessing thou bestow;
Do not turn away thy face,
Mine's an urgent pressing case.
Dost thou ask me, who I am?
Ah, my Lord, thou know'st my name!
Yet the question gives a plea,
To support my suit with thee.
Thou didst once a wretch behold,
In rebellion blindly bold;
Scorn thy grace, thy pow'r defy,
That poor rebel, Lord, was I.
Once a sinner near despair,
Sought thy mercy-seat by prayer;
Mercy heard and set him free,
Lord, that mercy came to me,
Many years have passed since then,
Many changes I have seen;
Yet have been upheld till now,
Who could hold me up but thou?
Thou hast helped in every need,
This emboldens me to plead;
After so much mercy past,
Canst thou let me sink at last?
No -- I must maintain my hold,
'Tis thy goodness makes me bold;
I can no denial take,
When I plead for Jesu's sake.
poem by John Newton
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