with sweet mangos
hawker on hot streets
sour life
haiku by Sathya Narayana
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The Fruity Taste of Life
Sweet and sour is life
What yours shall be, destiny shall contrive
But dependence on destiny shall decrease
And it will then depend on you, my friend decrees
What say you to that?
What surprise can pull from the hat?
Think of the sweet Tangerine
Perhaps you would, the sour Tamarind
They both spell L-I-F-E
For not even in strife
Shall the sweet in Tangerine
Be comparable to the sour in Tamarind
poem by Maureen Oby Iwueke Gbagir
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What Is It That You Like?
don't you like this sweetness
of my words?
you are bored with this sugar
and honey
and cream?
you are afraid you have become
sick of such
sweet tongue
such sweet indulgence?
oh, you want something bitter
something sour now?
some bitter herbs some sour
species of green lemons?
try me,
i am a bitter person
i am the latest delicacy of
all that is sour
and
decomposing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Journey of love
Life is strange
Sometimes sweet
Sometimes sour
suddenly you meet
Someone
Judge him by
The way he talks
The way he behaves
Carefully scrutinize
His every thought
A liking develops
want to
See more of him
Waiting for him
Becomes agonizing
He captures your
Dreams
Your thoughts
Revolves around him
Love starts blooming
Both of you decide
To spent life together
Nobody knows
What shall happen?
In the future
It May be sweet
It May be sour
04-02-2012
106-16-02-12
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Dancing In The Streets
Wow!
Ah yeah!
Calling out around the world,are you ready for a brand new beat.
Summers here and the time is right,for dancing in the streets,
Theyre dancing in chicago ( theyll be dancing )
Down in new oreleans ( dancing in the streets )
Up in new york city ( dancing in the streets )
All we need is music ( sweet sweet ) sweet music (sweet sweet music )
Therell be music everywhere.
Therell be swinging,swaying,records playing,dancing in the streets,oh!
It doesnt matter what hat you wear,just as long as you are there,
So come on
Grab a guy,grab a girl,everywhere around the world.
Therell be dancing,dancing in the streets.
( oh )its just an invitation,across the nation,a chance for folks to meet.
Therell be laughing and singing,music swinging,dancing in the streets
All we need is music ( sweet sweet ) sweet music (sweet sweet music )
Therell be music everywhere.
Therell be swinging,swaying,records playing,dancing in the streets,oh!
It doesnt matter what hat you wear,just as long as you are there,
So come on
Grab a guy,grab a girl,everywhere around the world.
Dancing,dancing in the streets,
Way down in la,everyday,dancing in the streets ( dancing in the streets )
San francisco way, ( dancing in the streets ), they do it everyday now,
( dancing in the streets )
song performed by by Van Halen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode to A Sour Pickle
Ode to a sour pickle,
To pucker up your puss.
Lay down a shiny nickel,
Come on, don't be a wuss.
The heck with kosher dills,
And sweet little pickles too.
It's sour pickles for your gills,
Can't take a thing in lieu.
A big ole sour pickle,
Will bring on a grimace.
Where they're concerned I'm fickle,
Please bear me no malice.
12/23/10 Alton Texas
poem by by unknown author
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So You Don't Like The Sour Man?
so, here you are again, feeling sorry for the sour man
the one who does not know how to stretch his face
to make a smile
the one consumed by the ghosts of his own worries
that never came
the one who stays in the nook
afraid,
you do not like this sour man
scared, not easy to handle, expensive
to the pocket
you do not find him
a good company to your sports
laughter
and happy-go-lucky
merry, merry, merry,
round and round
telling people hey life is short why not just enjoy every minute of it
savor the moments
lick every sweet dropp of life like honey to your finger
finger licking good
till the last dropp till the supply lasts
take today, today, today, why worry about tomorrow
oh, you do not like the sour man
and you are angry at him
well, it is sad, the sour man has conquered you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Granny and Mulberries! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
On a visit to granny in the Doon valley
It was March and the tree full of Mulberries.
Red, purple teasing from far, fetched a cane basket
Joyfully picked one, ate some while birds created racket.
Felt nostalgic on seeing in a bucket in the market.
Lying on a bed of ice covered with a guaze net.
Hawker beckoned, explained, delicate spoil early.
Sweet and sour as girls like am told, juicy and healthy.
Came back home with a bagful, took out in a bowl.
My granny used to make jam; now I eat them whole.
No longer alive; her toothless smile, bed time stories,
Ruddy wrinkled face, warm embrace, etched in memories...
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Sour
some fruits are loved
for their being sour
it is their sourness
that reminds of their essence
like the green mango
it is even missed more
than when it ripened
but with you my love
do not worry
sour or sweet or bitter
we will always be together
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Vocation
When the gong sounds ten in the morning and I walk to school by our
lane.
Every day I meet the hawker crying, "Bangles, crystal
bangles!"
There is nothing to hurry him on, there is no road he must
take, no place he must go to, no time when he must come home.
I wish I were a hawker, spending my day in the road, crying,
"Bangles, crystal bangles!"
When at four in the afternoon I come back from the school,
I can see through the gate of that house the gardener digging
the ground.
He does what he likes with his spade, he soils his clothes
with dust, nobody takes him to task if he gets baked in the sun or
gets wet.
I wish I were a gardener digging away at the garden with
nobody to stop me from digging.
Just as it gets dark in the evening and my mother sends me to
bed,
I can see through my open window the watchman walking up and
down.
The lane is dark and lonely, and the street-lamp stands like
a giant with one red eye in its head.
The watchman swings his lantern and walks with his shadow at
his side, and never once goes to bed in his life.
I wish I were a watchman walking the streets all night,
chasing the shadows with my lantern.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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The Sour Lemon Tree
A sour lemon tree flower attracts the bee
While its fruit is bitter not so its flower
White is its flower sweet and very pretty
Only the fruit is bitter and that's just a pity
As the beauty of its flower resist not a bee
It's the simple truth
Or see the sour lemon tree
With fruit that is bitter bears a lemon tree
But useful is its fruit good for everyday use
Once said a bee... your flower is very sweet
It carries fragrance scented out in the street
Yet bears you fruit bitter no one wants to eat
It's partly the truth
Or see the sour lemon tree
A citrus tree with fruit no other tree bears
Then out of the tree came a nice neat voice
'Twas like a voice of one who's very wise
This is what it said trees are not so free
One made a decree for every bearing tree
It's partly the truth
Or see the sour lemon tree
The Creator decides the fruit a tree bears
Whether it be bitter or whether it be sweet
The Creator decrees for every bearing tree
To bring forth fruit ordained for it to bear
Then sweet or bitter bears a tree its fruit
It's the simple truth
Or see the sour lemon tree.
poem by Clarence Prince
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Sour Milk-cow Blues
You like coffee and you like tea
Much more than you like me
And everybody says watch out yeah
For the sour milk-cow blues
You like your coffee just a little too sweet
Without your sugar life is incomplete
And everybody says watch out yeah
For the sour milk-cow blues
I think about you everyday
Something about you is not the same
Something about the things you say
Sounds like a different woman with a different name
Sour milk-cow blues
You wear a different size and style of shoe
I think that someone must be poisoning you
To replace you with a living double
Get out of my life right now and save them all of the trouble
They changed your complexion and your personality
Somebodys putting ideas in your head
They took the girl of my dreams and left you here instead
Sour milk-cow blues
You take your place in this parade of pleas
You dial a number and they offer relief
All alone with just your own device
They give you something and it isnt advice
To break the hearts of a million listeners
Start out as lovers and you end up as prisoners
Somebodys suffering from the things that you do
Somebodys suffering but youre glad it isnt you
Put your fingertips up to the screen
Repeat after me, wake at the count of three
Now I dont know which is worse
What theyre doing to you or what youre doing to me
Sour milk-cow blues
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Sour Apple Bites
Orchard of apple and variety
Here you come, the apples lover
Come sing and praise like always
'Shining around the skin
Your colour is my favorite apple
The fresh one
So is your taste'
Apples smile and sing
'If i am green
A sweet sour love
Bite one, bite two
Bite still
Taste me my apples lover
Taste my sweet sour love
I'm green and sour
Pluck me bite me my lover'
The hunter replies
Bite one and some
Tasted your sour love
Bite still because i am the apple lover'
Apples smile continue the song
'If i am red apple
Sweet and moist
Bite one, then two
Bite more
Taste my sweet life
I'm red and taste nice
Bite one bite some
Taste me sweet you will like it'
'Green or Red
Bite sweet or bite sour
I must love you my apples
simply because...
I am the true apple lover'
Explained hunter
Sweet red or sour green
Sugar rich energy will reach your heart sooner
Running in your blood and pump the beat so dear
'O apples my dear i grow you in orchard to be with me so near'
Confessed by gardener, before apple answered
'You work hard and love so sincere, will fruit you love every year'
Bite one, sweet or sour everyday
Promise keeps you away from doctor
Bite one Bite some Bite all say the lover
Energy, Protect you always said apple
If you love something, make it further
This is what apple and hunter tell you, No Fears
Credit to Ahmed Khaled to point some issues of apples
so what i can say here it was inspired by Ahmed Khaled and fair to say this is our collaboration. Took of the chance to dedicate this poem for Steve, Co founder of Apple...All his courage to chase his dream is what i really called as an apple lover...
Meaning of this poem,
I want to talk about 'Do what you want' choose what you like
It's not all about apples, it is about...if you have a dream (your future)
make it real either you taste it difficult or easy you will always enjoyed it
just like i tell you in the story, green or red, sweet or sour
the apple hunter/gardener still like it, why simple cause the hunter like it
..As you know what you like and nod for the challenge, you will
get satisfied with what are you having, doing...it's your favorite choice
..Include the words 'An apple a day keeps doctor away' hoping you
understand, you will safe and satisfy if you choose the path you like
and you will safe from regret..Chase your dream :) _Unwritten Soul
poem by Unwritten Soul
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Ode to Mother Nature
I pray to thee mother nature,
Thine beauty none can match,
Sweet or sour thy feature,
Life or death thee hatch.
Sweet is thy misery,
Sour is thy love,
I ought to be thy slave,
And thine shall guide me from above.
The seasons, some harsh some mellow,
In which some sing and some play bass cello,
Thou bring me happiness,
As thou ar't all beautiful.
An ode I summon to thine stranger,
An ode I summon to thee,
Inside the bearer thy beauty lie,
It's all the magic inside ones eye.
poem by Aditya Mudbhary
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Life is a tree
Life is a tree that has twelve branches
Life is a branch that has thirty fruits
Life is fruits that is sweet and sour
Life is transparent and clear
Life has no head no tail no beginning no end
Life is everywhere and life is a day
Life is a month life is a year.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Dieting
Sweet addictions
Twinkies and mints
Sweet affections
Snickers and quince
Mainline injections
Demanding habits
Sweet confections
Chocolate rabbits
Mind all drugged
Cotton candy
Sweet, sweet opiate
Scattered brains
Saccharine high
Feelin’ dandy
Hallucinations
Of sugar trains
Hope, all gone
Life turned sour
Fallen prey
To predilection
Hollow…sunken eyes
Visage…wan and dour
Sugary shadows…
…Sweet addiction…
poem by David Whalen
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Sweet and sour pain
born to sacrifice the life that is shared and entrusted
by the giver of life, a perfect test to His will; worthy
and faithful to the commandment received
life as it diluted to the spring of ocean and river, fish
learn to swim, adapt what is given and accept any
failure encounter, for everything experienced would
mean a beginning of living
life all the way is a taste of sweet and sour, a venue of
wondering where, every success and failure becomes
the opportunity to challenge, a way to make another
step to achieve what is dream off and what is envision
of what is life ahead
children as they grown up, push us to the limit, where
parents become always the willing sacrifice for what is
ever planted will be harvested at the end, we have to do
the right way and pursue our strength for everything, for
what is done is a prelude to their success
never as we give up, the failure would mean a thing to
forget and remember the end; parents eat the sweet
sour of food they cooked and learn the past by doing the
best for the future
they who have born in a little clot of our love must live
forever, leaving behind the pain of sacrifice entangle
in our lives, for they are the living life in us splinded in
this perfect and wonderful universe
poem by Antonio Liao
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Life Is A Different One
LIFE IS DREAM NOT REAL.
LIFE IS BLOOM OF A FLOWER.
LIFE IS HONEY WITH SWEET 'N' SOUR.
LIFE IS A DREAM WITH LOVE AND HATE.
LIFE IS SOMETIMES SPEED AND SLOW.
LIFE IS SOMETIMES GOOD AND BAD.
LIFE WILL GO AND COME BACK AGAIN.
AND LIFE IS A DREAM NOT A REAL.
poem by Sky Sunwin
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Just A Taste Of Life
what i have in my hand
is a slice of pineapple
it is sweet
its sweetness lingers
in my tongue
and sticks to my brain
it is simply a slice
just a taste of this bigger life
ahead of us
i have another slice
to hand to you
take it
why waste some time
on bitter herbs
and sour grapes?
what i have is just a slice
of sweet pineapple
take it now
it is sweet
what do we have next?
we shall wait and see
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Overload Sugar Rush
Candy coated apples
Chocolate ice cream with just a bit of sprinkles
Tangy mike and Ike
Skittle flavored milkshakes with cherries on top
Gingerbread cookies with a strike of milk
Watery lemonade
Cupcakes of wonder
Twisted vines of vanilla extract
Banana cream pie with whip cream on top
Just the perfect life full of innocence
Sour patches running through the veins of angel cake
Dry gumdrops running the chocolate wafers
A Fein for the extra sugar planted down the roots which she dare not goes
The black roses that stood from the berry rush
Just a strawberry ruining the veins of innocence
The black licorice is was just so irresistible wanting to try it
But too afraid for it gives you addiction to the darkness
The rotten sweetness of a teenage girl
A strawberry to a blackberry
Consideration and a fan of sweet suicide
Vitamin pills that scream “eat me I’m death! ! ! ”
Tempting to do it, she asks for a peck of beauty to awaken
No savior from the ugliness of the sour patches
She cries watery fruit punch that gives diabetes
She shall never have candy coated apples again they all say
But she smiles hours later because she realizes
She isn’t the only one who lost her sweetness
Because she looks at me as a role model
Because I myself have sour patches too
And we all who have lost our sweetness to the evil sour patches
Shall stand together holding hands fighting it as one
We will shoot those sour patches with fireballs of sweetness
And we shall laugh as they fall
Don’t shed a tear girl
Because we are sour patches hoping to become sweet again
And candy coated apples we shall be someday! ! ! ! ! !
poem by Marie Jones
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Sweet Mama
I was raised on the west side shanty town.
I didn't get up till the sun went down.
When your back's against the wall, you better get tough,
An' learn real quick how to swing an' duck.'
I was born in the suite all for the sunshine,
Good lookin' women, back woods an' moonshine.
Learned more about life on the streets than in the school.
Sweet Mama didn't raise no fool,.
That's right.
Some folks cheat 'n some folks lie,
But I can judge a man by the look in his eye.
Don't hand me jack, try to call it cool.
I know the difference 'tween sh*t an' shiner.
I was born in the suite all for the sunshine,
Good lookin' women, back woods an' moonshine.
Learned more about life on the streets than in the school.
Sweet Mama didn't raise no fool.
Instrumental Break.
Talkin' about Mama,
Oh sweet Mama.
Mama was no angel, but she taught me right from wrong.
She knew ev'ry single word, an' ev'ry note, and ev'ry song.
She taught me how to gamble and how to roll a dice.
"If it makes you feel good, do a darn thing twice."
I was born in the suite all for the sunshine,
Good lookin' women, back woods an' moonshine.
Learned more about life on the streets than in the school.
My sweet Mama didn't raise no fool.
I was born in the suite all for the sunshine,
Good lookin' women, back woods an' moonshine.
Learned more about life on the streets than in the school.
My sweet Mama didn't raise no fool.
Yeeow!
Talkin' about:
(My sweet Mama,)
(Mama didn't raise no fool.)
Na, na, na.
(Talkin' about my sweet Mama,
(Mama didn't raise no fool.)
That's my sweet Mama.
(Talkin' about my sweet Mama,
(Mama didn't raise no fool.)
Oh, sweet Mama.
song performed by by Van Zant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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