The Pigs and the Charcoal-burner
The old Pig said to the little pigs,
'In the forest is truffles and mast,
Follow me then, all ye little pigs,
Follow me fast!'
The Charcoal-burner sat in the shade
With his chin oil his thumb,
And saw the big Pig and the little pigs
Chuffling come.
He watched 'neath a green and giant bough,
And the pigs in the ground
Made a wonderful grisling and gruzzling
And greedy sound.
And when, full-fed, they were gone, and Night
Walked her starry ways,
He stared with his cheeks in his hands
At his sullen blaze.
poem by Walter de la Mare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
I shall not ever return to you, my pigs, because, at worst, to die valorously is better than to sleep out one's youth in the sun. A man has but one life. It is his all. Therefore I now depart from you, my
pigs, to win me a fine wife and much wealth and leisure wherein to discharge my geas. And when my geas is lifted I shall not come back to you, my pigs, but I shall travel everywhither, and into the last limits of earth, so that I may see the ends of this world and may judge them while my life endures. For after that, they say, I judge not, but am judged: and a man whose life has gone out of him, my pigs, is not even good bacon.
quote by James Branch Cabell
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I am fond of pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals.
quote by Winston Churchill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I like pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals.
quote by Winston Churchill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Young pigs grunt as as old pigs grunted before them.
Young pigs grunt as old pigs grunted before them.
Circe's Power
I never turned anyone into a pig.
Some people are pigs; I make them
Look like pigs.
I'm sick of your world
That lets the outside disguise the inside. Your men weren't bad men;
Undisciplined life
Did that to them. As pigs,
Under the care of
Me and my ladies, they
Sweetened right up.
Then I reversed the spell, showing you my goodness
As well as my power. I saw
We could be happy here,
As men and women are
When their needs are simple. In the same breath,
I foresaw your departure,
Your men with my help braving
The crying and pounding sea. You think
A few tears upset me? My friend,
Every sorceress is
A pragmatist at heart; nobody sees essence who can't
Face limitation. If I wanted only to hold you
I could hold you prisoner.
poem by Louise Gluck
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Pigs, Sheep & Wolves
Words & music by paul simon
Big and fat
Pigs supposed to look like that
Barnyard thug
Sleeps on straw and calls it a rug
Yeah thats a rug, ok
Ses walking down the street
And nobodys gonna argue with him
Hes a half-a-ton of pig meat
Up in the hills above the farm
Lives a pack of wolves
Never did no harm
Sleep all day
Hunt till four
Maybe catch a couple of rodents
You know carnivore
Sheep in the meadow
Nibbling on some clover
One of the sheep wanders over
Sits by a rock
Separated from the flock
Hes just sitting by a rock
Whered he go? dont know
Well he was here a minute ago
I dont know
Sheeps dead
Got a gash as big as a wolfs head
Oh god
Big and fat
Pigs supposed to look like that
Wallowing in lanolin
Hes rubbing it into his pigskin
Police going crazy
Lets get him
Lets get that wolf
Lets get him
Lets get that wolf
Lets get him
Lets kill him, lets get him
Lets kill him
Court-appointed lawyer wasnt very bright
Oh maybe he was bright
Maybe he just had a late night
Yeah it was just a late night
And he files some feeble appeal
And the governor says forget it
Its a done deal
Election, I dont care, election
Lets give that wolf a lethal iniection
Lets get him, yeah get him,
Lets kill him, lets get him
Lets kill him, lets get him, kill him
Lets get him and kill him
Whew, slow
Here comes the media
Setting up their camera
Asking everyones opinion
About pigs, sheep and wolves
Big and fat
Pigs supposed to laugh like that
This is hilarious
What a great time
Im the pig who committed
The perfect crime
All around the world
France, scandinavia
Theres candle light vigils
Protesting this behavior
It s animal behavior
Animal behavior
Its pigs, sheep and wolves
Pigs, sheep and wolves
Pigs, sheep and wolves
Its animal behavior
Its pigs, sheep and wolves
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tabloid Pigs
Tabloid pigs to the slaughter house
Tomorrows chip-papers looking thin
The hacks and waiting to be hacked
Front page headline ‘Karma wins’
The corrupt uncaring vices you undertook
On which you built your little empire
Is now falling apart around your feet
You have no friends left in this town
Now after every story you ran
Tabloid pigs to the slaughter house
Come answer to your crimes
Stand, be counted for what you’ve done
In the public interest I do believe
Is what you have always said
You were not journalists or news reporters
Just vile little piggy’s snorting around
In the dirt for what you could sell
Regardless of crime or consequence
Tabloid pigs to the slaughter house
The time has come, last edition
poem by Matthew Holloway
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I may have exaggerated a bit when I said that 80 per cent of the top 100 women are fat pigs. What I meant to say was 75 per cent of the top 100 women are fat pigs.
quote by Richard Krajicek
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Now I Decide To Fly Away From The Home Of The Pigs
everything has been concealed
for years
i have lived with the pigs
in the mud
and ate the left-over foods
of our masters
but then today
i feel the feathers growing on my side
i have strong wings
my claws are pushing in my feet
no longer hoofs
and hair
the wind from the sea
breaks the truth it brings
on my beak is the break
once upon a time a seagull lost an egg in the pigsty
unaccounted
i was that egg
i am a seagul now
to the full
of my potentials
goodbye brother pigs now i must fly away to the farther seas
to the higher skies
my destiny
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Old Macdonald
(words & music by randy starr)
Old macdonald had a farm, ee-i-ee-i-o
And on that farm he had some chicks, ee-i-ee-i-o
With a cluck, cluck here, a cluck, cluck there
Loud as they could be
And when those chicks got out of line
Chicken fricasse
With a cluck, cluck here, a cluck, cluck there
Loud as they could be
And when those chicks got out of line
Chicken fricasse
Well, old macdonald had a farm, ee-i-ee-i-o
And on that farm he had some cows, ee-i-ee-i-o
With a moo, moo here, a moo, moo there
Cattle everywhere
And when those cows got out of line
Hamburger, medium rare
With a moo, moo here, a moo, moo there
Cattle everywhere
And when those cows got out of line
Hamburger, medium rare
Ohh, well, old macdonald had a farm, ee-i-ee-i-o
And on that farm he had some pigs, ee-i-ee-i-o
With an oink, oink here, an oink, oink there
Pigs everywhere in sight
And when those pigs got out of line
Pork and beans at night
With an oink, oink here, an oink, oink there
Pigs everywhere in sight
And when those pigs got out of line
Pork and beans at night
Well Im goona have a farm one day, ee-i-e-i-o
And Ill do things mcdonalds way, ee-i-e-i-o
With a cluck, cluck here, a cluck, cluck there
A moo, moo here, a moo, moo there
An oink, oink here, an oink, oink there
And I can promise you
If those animals ever get out of line
Well have a mulligan stew
How about you?
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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302
everything has been concealed
for years
i have lived with the pigs
in the mud
and ate the left-over foods
of our masters
but then today
i feel the feathers growing on my side
i have strong wings
my claws are pushing in my feet
no longer hoofs
and hair
the wind from the sea
breaks the truth it brings
on my beak is the break
once upon a time a seagull lost an egg in the pigsty
unaccounted
i was that egg
i am a seagull now
to the full
of my potentials
goodbye brother pigs now i must fly away to the farther seas
to the higher skies
my destiny
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rondeau
Fleas, stink, pigs, mold,
The gist of the Bohemian soul,
Bread and salted fish and cold.
Leeks, and cabbage three days old,
Smoked meat, as hard and black as coal;
Fleas, stink, pigs, mold.
Twenty eating from one bowl,
A bitter drink -it's beer, I'm told-
Bad sleep on a straw in some filthy hole,
Fleas, stink, pigs, mold,
The gist of the Bohemian soul,
Bread and salted fish and cold.
poem by Eustache Deschamps
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I will go to my Father
Next to me a pig sow snorts
and the stench of pig manure
hangs heavy in the air
and the pigs are eating pods,
and I may not even
eat thereof
and my stomach burns with hunger.
It’s very hot
and I drink water from a fountain
and when the sun begin to set
and I heard the pigs,
I know that I must
go and fix my affairs.
I will go to my father
where his rows of tents
are set on the other side of the Jordan
and when I see him,
I will be happy
to be back with my dad.
He can admonish me
since I deserve it
and even if he doesn’t want me
as his son anymore,
I will ask him
to forgive me.
*
While I am still a great way off
he notices me walking on the road
and comes running,
and there are tears of joy
in his eyes.
[Reference: => Luke15: 11-32]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the matter of pigs, all is money, and in the matter of money, all are pigs.
The Three Little Pigs
The animal I really dig,
Above all others is the pig.
Pigs are noble. Pigs are clever,
Pigs are courteous. However,
Now and then, to break this rule,
One meets a pig who is a fool.
What, for example, would you say,
If strolling through the woods one day,
Right there in front of you you saw
A pig who'd built his house of STRAW?
The Wolf who saw it licked his lips,
And said, 'That pig has had his chips.'
'Little pig, little pig, let me come in!'
'No, no, by the hairs on my chinny-chin-chin!'
'Then I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house in!'
The little pig began to pray,
But Wolfie blew his house away.
He shouted, 'Bacon, pork and ham!
Oh, what a lucky Wolf I am!'
And though he ate the pig quite fast,
He carefully kept the tail till last.
Wolf wandered on, a trifle bloated.
Surprise, surprise, for soon he noted
Another little house for pigs,
And this one had been built of TWIGS!
'Little pig, little pig, let me come in!'
'No, no, by the hairs on my chinny-chin-chin!'
'Then I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house in!'
The Wolf said, 'Okay, here we go!'
He then began to blow and blow.
The little pig began to squeal.
He cried, 'Oh Wolf, you've had one meal!
Why can't we talk and make a deal?
The Wolf replied, 'Not on your nelly!'
And soon the pig was in his belly.
'Two juicy little pigs!' Wolf cried,
'But still I'm not quite satisfied!
I know how full my tummy's bulging,
But oh, how I adore indulging.'
So creeping quietly as a mouse,
The Wolf approached another house,
A house which also had inside
A little piggy trying to hide.
'You'll not get me!' the Piggy cried.
'I'll blow you down!' the Wolf replied.
'You'll need,' Pig said, 'a lot of puff,
And I don't think you've got enough.'
Wolf huffed and puffed and blew and blew.
The house stayed up as good as new.
'If I can't blow it down,' Wolf said,
I'll have to blow it up instead.
I'll come back in the dead of night
And blow it up with dynamite!'
Pig cried, 'You brute! I might have known!'
Then, picking up the telephone,
He dialed as quickly as he could
The number of red Riding Hood.
'Hello,' she said. 'Who's speaking? Who?
Oh, hello, Piggy, how d'you do?'
Pig cried, 'I need your help, Miss Hood!
Oh help me, please! D'you think you could?'
'I'll try of course,' Miss Hood replied.
'What's on your mind...?' 'A Wolf!' Pig cried.
'I know you've dealt with wolves before,
And now I've got one at my door!'
'My darling Pig,' she said, 'my sweet,
That's something really up my street.
I've just begun to wash my hair.
But when it's dry, I'll be right there.'
A short while later, through the wood,
Came striding brave Miss Riding Hood.
The Wolf stood there, his eyes ablaze,
And yellowish, like mayonnaise.
His teeth were sharp, his gums were raw,
And spit was dripping from his jaw.
Once more the maiden's eyelid flickers.
She draws the pistol from her knickers.
Once more she hits the vital spot,
And kills him with a single shot.
Pig, peeping through the window, stood
And yelled, 'Well done, Miss Riding Hood!'
Ah, Piglet, you must never trust
Young ladies from the upper crust.
For now, Miss Riding Hood, one notes,
Not only has two wolfskin coats,
But when she goes from place to place,
She has a PIGSKIN TRAVELING CASE.
poem by Roald Dahl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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None That Reminisces You
Why should I have to pay,
At the expense of these pigs?
They laid that nonsense down
And you and they fed,
Upon it big and long to swell your head.
They nor you
Do nothing for me at all.
Except stall me in between,
These precious moments of 'my' abundance...
In the times I live now that have left you lean!
I can not see your problem as mine today.
Since it was just yesterday...
Your nastiness and disrespect,
Exposed you for who you were.
When you chose to look away,
From my sorrows...
Expressing no dismay,
Or empathy displayed?
And...
Although I think of you and them as pigs...
I could have thought of you as snakes,
And live with that.
But remembering you as rats...
I could not turn my back,
And forget about that!
Either way...
I still see you as being low,
And comfortable about it!
But you can not prolong my agony!
There is none that reminisces you.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I didn't want to be greedy. It's a mark of bad character and I always believed that pigs go the slaughterhouse.
quote by Walter Annenberg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vino Rosso Della Guerra
I
My father spoke of eating rats
to stay alive in World War I
as he lay in bloodied fields
while in the distance
he watched the vineyards glinting in the sun.
His mother had wailed as she watched him go
while his father’s bony finger
traced a purple cross
bare feet wedded to the grapes
marching
marching
marching
to the beat of the drums
II
My mother said Mussolini was good
because he made everyone
throw their pigs out
of the house and made sure
everyone got pasta every day
but no meat.
By then the pigs had all been slaughtered
to feed the army.
In the garden behind her shack,
broccoli withered in the hot Sicilian sun,
water doled out like vino rosso to dying alcoholics.
'One liter too much and Il Duce’s soldati
might die of thirst, ' the peasants would hiss,
rolling their eyes, while huddling in dark cellars
where wine presses used to dwell.
The purple grapes that once graced
the countryside had all been razed
the culls remaining
just so many
rotting raisins.
poem by Allesandra Patti
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Maralinga
(spoken)
I come from a land of wide open spaces
Where the world turns around us and we just follow suit
Theres heat in the air and peace reigns supreme
Got white flags on the clothes lines and the deals are new
In the wind, the ashes fly
The poison crown, the charcoal ground
And if you cant see the smile in me
Thats where I want to be
Theres only god, theres only christ
Think Ill lie down, for just a while
So watch and check them out and listen as we learn
Throw the pearls before the swine, ebb and flow and turning tide
Yes we watch and catch them down no matter how they jump
The pigs will have to come to ground,weve got to make it happen now
Its not really that new, try and make it happen now
What are we to do, maybe theres a chance for you
All around, an eerie sound
Their dreams a cloud, their world in shrouds
In the wind, the ashes fly
Not much time, but time to try
And if you cant see the smile in me, thats where I want to be
I want to be here at the, I have to be here at the end
(moginie/garrett)
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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