Honey In My Oatmeal
Porridge fairy tail mush
runs a dog yet you eat it.
poem by Is It Poetry
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Fairytail life
Im sitting here
Living my life
Thinking about
What it could be
A fantasy
And full of dreams
Something that I can see
Only on the tv screen
If only live was a fairy tail
Id be a princess
And ill have my prince
Although right now
I have him in mind
If only
Life was a fairy tail
I would have
A pretty dress
That all the girls
Would have green eyes for
It would be worn
To the ball
But if only
Life was a fairy tail
The prince shall see me
Tonight and will ask me to dance
Then at midnight I will have to runaway
And the chase begins
As I hide my true identity
To save our love
In this so called fairy tail
If I was Cinderella
I would lose my glass slipper
In the presents of him
For him to find me again
And love me
If only I was a fairy tail
my prince
would find me again
while all the other girls
are tryin to steal him from me
the true Cinderella
And our love would be saved (forever)
I would get married to the prince
So we could live
Happily…ever….after…..
But that is…..
The fairy tail…..
Of…my…life…
poem by Tessa Monaghan
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Porridge At The Pub
I had my breakfast this morning at a pub in our town,
But my experience there left my face with a massive frown.
I ordered some porridge, topped with banana and honey,
But, despite it being cheap, it was not worth the money.
With me, the bowlful of porridge was not a massive hit,
Because I found eating it, was like eating a bowlful of grit.
The oats and milk, I found, were far from very well mixed:
Though I'm sure this is a problem that can be easily fixed.
On top of that, I thought the porridge tasted a little bit weird,
So, by me, my bowlful of porridge didn't get totally cleared.
About my breakfast experience, I did not like to complain,
But I won't be eating porridge at that particular pub again.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Misnomers
The name implies inadequate size,
And indeed, many shrimp are quite small.
But a jumbo shrimp is in no way a wimp-
Why call it a shrimp at all?
And a fairy shrimph is perceived as a nymph,
'Cause it's delicate, lovely, and frail.
But a fairy it's not-no wand has it got,
And no fairy's equipped with a tail!
Little Fairy
Little Fairy,
Shine so bright.
Little Fairy,
Show your light.
Little Fairy,
I’m amazed.
Little Fairy,
You seem to blaze.
Little Fairy,
I love your allure.
Little fairy,
You are so pure.
Little fairy,
In case you flee,
Little fairy,
First shine on me.
poem by Brittany Graviet
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Chick Flicks, Just Won't, Get It.
You would probably have to put hot coals under my feet...
To drag my butt, into the sneak peek, of a chick flick.
I am a romantic, but spare me the gushing muck...
No such mush for me, not that mush, would I wish to see.
Not even if the admittance-were free...
Let me be, let me be.
Action is where I'm at....
Not viewing a film about a talking, baby, dog, or cat.
Comedy will move my feet...
That type of film, will be my treat.
Romantic mush...
Won't make me gush.
Only action...
Will get my feet like, attraction.
poem by Michael Gale
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His Life, a Porridge Pool
Sitting on a traditional stool
Starring, ripples in a pool
He stirred porridge with a wooden spoon
Ripples, cause of his spoon
Porridge, had become a pool
His life, a porridge pool.
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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A tale i was told
Right as i was told their handwriting were'nt bold
so; our forefathers were sold
that their conscience they had sold
but to me; a fairy tale better not told
i was young
and the music seem dingdong
to me at dawn,
the story seem sown
not till i was told
it was a fairy tale better not told.
Unaware in the market; they haggle
to them, the reward a cry
and they saw no battle
but on this path, i dare not ply
To me; a fairy tale better not told.
What seem a tale
to me a dog without tail
on our fall i was
when the tale went on without a pause
to me a fairy better not told.
poem by Atimiwoaye Adetunji dayo
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Policeman G.
To Policeman G. the Inspector said:
"When you pass the 'shops' you must turn your head;
If you took a wager, that would be a sin;
So you'll earn no stripes if you run them in."
Mush-a-ring-tiy-ah,
Fol-de-diddle-doh!
To the House Committee, the Inspector said:
"'Tis a terrible thing how the gamblers spread,
For they bet on the steeple, and they bet on the Cup,
And the magistrates won't lock them up."
Mush-a-ring-tiy-ah,
Fol-de-diddle-doh!
But Policeman G., as he walks his beat,
Where ghe gamblers are -- up and down the street --
Says he: "What's the use to be talkin' rot --
If they'd make me a sergeant, I could cop the lot!"
With my ring-tiy-ah,
Fol-de-diddle-doh!
"But, begad if you start to suppress the 'shop',
Then the divil only knows where you're going to stop;
For the rich and the poor, they would raise a din,
If at Randwick I ran fifty thousand in."
Mush-a-ring-tiy-ah,
Fol-de-diddle-doh!
"Though ye must not box -- nor shpit -- nor bet,
I'll find my way out to Randwick yet;
For I'm shtandin' a pound -- and it's no disgrace --
On Paddy Nolan's horse -- for the Steeplechase!"
Mush-a-ring-tiy-ah,
Fol-de-diddle-doh!
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dogtown
Okay.
The towns dawning, Im the only one awake.
The streets are whistling, I light my fourth cigarette.
I think of my friends, they were once not so dead.
What are they thinking now?
One day Ill be just a little stone,
Nobodyll know that the stone had such emotions.
Anyway, Im always on the run.
Someday Ill be remembered for the phone calls I never made,
Letters I never mailed,
And stories I never finished telling anyone.
The towns yawning, I let my dog walk me around.
He took a shoot and people smiled,
I tried the same and people frowned.
Yes, its a dog, dogtown.
One day lets be a pair of trees,
Nobodyll know that the trees had such a history.
Anyway, wed never be this lonely.
Someday Ill be remembered for the fine words I meant to keep,
A warm smile I meant to leave,
And a true song I meant to finish writing all my life.
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown,
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown.
Dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dogtown.
Peas porridge luck, peas porridge stuck,
Peas porridge in the pot nine years old.
Some gets paid, some gets grades,
Some stays in the pot nine years old.
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown,
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown.
Dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dogtown.
Peas porridge loved, peas porridge spoiled,
Peas porridge in the pot nine years old.
Some gets laid, some gets slayed,
Some stays in the pot nine years old.
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown,
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown.
Dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dogtown.
Dogtown, dogtown, dogtown, dogtown,
Dogtown, dogtown, dogtown -.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dogtown
Okay.
The towns dawning, Im the only one awake.
The streets are whistling, I light my fourth cigarette.
I think of my friends, they were once not so dead.
What are they thinking now?
One day Ill be just a little stone,
Nobodyll know that the stone had such emotions.
Anyway, Im always on the run.
Someday Ill be remembered for the phone calls I never made,
Letters I never mailed,
And stories I never finished telling anyone.
The towns yawning, I let my dog walk me around.
He took a shoot and people smiled,
I tried the same and people frowned.
Yes, its a dog, dogtown.
One day lets be a pair of trees,
Nobodyll know that the trees had such a history.
Anyway, wed never be this lonely.
Someday Ill be remembered for the fine words I meant to keep,
A warm smile I meant to leave,
And a true song I meant to finish writing all my life.
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown,
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown.
Dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dogtown.
Peas porridge luck, peas porridge stuck,
Peas porridge in the pot nine years old.
Some gets paid, some gets grades,
Some stays in the pot nine years old.
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown,
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown.
Dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dogtown.
Peas porridge loved, peas porridge spoiled,
Peas porridge in the pot nine years old.
Some gets laid, some gets slayed,
Some stays in the pot nine years old.
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown,
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown.
Dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dogtown.
Dogtown, dogtown, dogtown, dogtown,
Dogtown, dogtown, dogtown -.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tiger By The Tail
What a shock it was so surprising
You looked so small and frail
I didnt know what to do
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
People said that you must be joking
You let emotions run away with you
I realized a little too late
I bit off more than I could chew
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
Sometimes you grip it right
And sometimes you fail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
At times life can be so enlightening
But it can turn on you
Lately it gets so complicated i
I dont know what the tiger will do
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
Sometimes you grip it right
And sometimes you fail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
Sometimes you grip it right
And sometimes you fail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Cooking Pot
our cooking pot is not made of porcelain
or silver or gold but it is made of the mud
of this earth
hardened by time and fire and too much
waiting
our patience consumed
our waiting had been too long about this cooking
pot, earthen
where we put all our dreams and cook them
like rice
porridge, all of our dreams
fired by the woods of our reminiscence
our longings our loneliness our daily concerns
our future wishes
and then when the time comes to open
and see and smell what rice porridge is
we say we like it we say we love it
only to be repulsed by this visitor in the house
'this is not cooking! This is not good! ' and he stares at us
and says, we need more fire, more wood, more time
to have the perfect porridge
i went out unable to stand this hunger
unable to see what this visitor says
it is our fault we allowed him in
we open our doors and windows and let him sleep in our room
as we lay on the floors and keep ourselves on the stairs.
'this is too much' i said.
'he must leave this house at once' i told you.
this is our pot. this is our porridge. this is our cooking.
and we must eat. we must love what we have.
'get out of my house' i said.
and then i am relieved from an opression.
i am happier now. My pot is earthen. Its bottom is sooty black.
i am blue. And i do not really mind.
This is my porridge. You may take it, if you like.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Fairy Tale High
On a fairy tale high
Don't you believe that your dreams all come true
The fairy tale world inside can bring it to you
You just have to wish, and you'll take off and fly
On a fairy tale high, fairy tale high
Fairy tale high, fairy tale high
On a fairy tale high
Just look around you, the dark clouds are far
Stand on your tiptoes, and reach for a star
As stardust comes sprinkling, it will brighten your eyes
On a fairy tale high, fairy tale high
Fairy tale high, fairy tale high
Fairy tale high, fairy tale high, fairy tale high
On a fairy tale high, feeling higher and higher
On a fairy tale high, feeling higher and higher
On a fairy tale high, feeling higher and higher
On a fairy tale high, feeling higher and higher
On a fairy tale high, feeling higher and higher
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mi Amo Mi Alegria Mi Corazon
if love was a fairy tail
then only time would telll
for we would be together
always an forever
an never apart
pero u have my heart
an i have ur sole
an together we make a whole
tú eres mi mundo, mi amor mi todo sin que usted se enferma nada
if their was magic then ill ask for no more tears
for i plan to stay with u for many many years
ull be my king an ill be ur queen
you make this feel just like a dream
i hope its all real cuz i love u
i truly do u sweept me off my feet i love ur so sweet
if i had 3 wishes ill wish nothing more
for im living my fantasy with mi amor
i dnt need no magic
cuz itll just end in a tragic
no matter how far the ditance are love is always near
theres nothing to fear
dnt need no fairy tail
i have it all cant u tell?
porque él mi vida mi amor mi todo lo anterior
i cant ask for nothing more cuz im in love with mi bebé mi amor
poem by Exotic Lokz
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Porridge
Why is there no monument
To Porridge in our land?
It it's good enough to eat,
It's good enough to stand!
On a plinth in London
A statue we should see
Of Porridge made in Scotland
Signed, "Oatmeal, O.B.E."
(By a young dog of three)
poem by Spike Milligan
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Excerpt –
'This famous wicked little tale
Should never have been put on sale
It is a mystery to me
Why loving parents cannot see
That this is actually a book
About a brazen little crook...'
'...Now just imagine how you'd feel
If you had cooked a lovely meal,
Delicious porridge, steaming hot,
Fresh coffee in the coffee pot,
With maybe toast and marmalade,
The table beautifully laid,
One place for you and one for dad,
Another for your little lad.
Then dad cries, 'Golly–gosh! Gee whizz!
'Oh cripes! How hot this porridge is!
'Let's take a walk along the street
'Until it's cool enough to eat.'
He adds, 'An early morning stroll
'Is good for people on the whole.
'It makes your appetite improve
'It also helps your bowels move.'
No proper wife would dare to question
Such a sensible suggestion,
Above all not at breakfast–time
When men are seldom at their prime.
No sooner are you down the road
Than Goldilocks, that little toad
That nosey thieving little louse,
Comes sneaking in your empty house....'
'...(Here comes the next catastrophe.)
Most educated people choose
To rid themselves of socks and shoes
Before they clamber into bed.
But Goldie didn't give a shred.
Her filthy shoes were thick with grime,
And mud and mush and slush and slime.
Worse still, upon the heel of one
Was something that a dog had done.
I say once more, what would you think
If all this horrid dirt and stink
Was smeared upon your eiderdown
By this revolting little clown?
(The famous story has no clues
To show the girl removed her shoes.)
Oh, what a tale of crime on crime!
Let's check it for a second time.
Crime One, the prosecution's case:
She breaks and enters someone's place.
Crime Two, the prosecutor notes:
She steals a bowl of porridge oats.
Crime Three: She breaks a precious chair
Belonging to the Baby Bear.
Crime Four: She smears each spotless sheet
With filthy messes from her feet.
A judge would say without a blink,
'Ten years hard labour in the clink!'
But in the book, as you will see,
The little beast gets off scot–free,
While tiny children near and far
Shout 'Goody–good! Hooray! Hurrah!'
'Poor darling Goldilocks!' they say,
'Thank goodness that she got away!'
Myself, I think I'd rather send
Young Goldie to a sticky end.
'Oh daddy!' cried the Baby Bear,
'My porridge gone! It isn't fair!'
'Then go upstairs,' the Big Bear said,
'Your porridge is upon the bed.
'But as it's inside mademoiselle,
'You'll have to eat her up as well.'
poem by Roald Dahl
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Feeling Like A Salvador Dali Watch
Feeling Like A Salvador Dali Watch
I lie
in this park
scattered with daises
& cigarette butts.
The sun orders us
to take off all our clothes
and we
mere humans
obey it.
The sun
pins us to the ground
orders us to sweat
and we
obey it.
A bird
swoops in to land
so close I can count
the feathers in its tail carriage
it sits by me
it too sunbathing.
A bush
by the railing
is shhhhhh....sleeping.
Over by the tree
the lovers
build an invisible
wall around them.
His knee
stands up
like an exclamation mark
whilst she
like a summer blue fairy
rests in his arms
kicking off her Dorothy shoes.
They stroke
each other
touch each others bodies
to make sure
they are a dream
that will not blow away...
a dandelion clock
forgets what time is
and we all fall asleep
lovers, pigeons...me
as if we
were an enchanted
fairy story
only a great big dog
having a crap by my head
runs the happy
ending.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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(Freedom poems) Fairy child
Fairy child
You child of a god
Fairy child
You have given
up your freedom
Fairy
Fairy child
And now you roam
our world free
Fairy child
because
you know no borders
and your education
Ain't enough fairy child
So you cross borders
to disrespect international
Treaties
You're wanted by INTERPOL
(Can you spell that out loud?)
and the host of
The international agencies
you fairy child
You will know forwards
Fairy child
That the world serves
the interests of one
Super state
When the sanctions
begin to bite fairy child
You will cry like your
Fairy mama fairy
Because here there's
the scarcity
of the sanctions busters
Fairy child
You better go away fairy child
And find yourself
A love mate in Tokyo
Fairy child
'Cause in Tel Aviv
They hunt down the black
infiltrators
Yes they do fairy child
'cause they fear the black brothers
'cause they and the Israelis
Share the same black ancestor fairy child
You better run my brother
And fall in love and marry yourself
off to a Ethiop woman
To get a alien citizenship fairy child
'Cause as stateless as you are now
You're a sitting duck
For INTERPOL and Scotland Yard
Fairy child
Say nothing in Guantanamo Bay
Fairy child
When they come to interrogate
you fairy child
Fairy child fairy child
You child of a god
I warned you my brother
The laws of the brother Humanity
are harsh my man
Now you're sitting there and
all your life you've been
Apolitical fairy child
Now you're sitting with the politicals
Waiting for the interrogator
To interrogate you
For the politics of power
You know the science of which not
It's cold on the Cuban island prison
Fairy child
You chew on your blues
And you even miss the gilded
gates of the flames of hell
Fairy child
Fairy child...
Naive!
poem by Ngaka Motaung
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A Moment Of Cats Lives
A cat name sherry goes to window and tries to break though it
What is on the side one might ask
But of course another female cat
Shes see it as an invasion of her territory
Now her sister runs up to her and ask 'what do you think your doing? '
With one fell swipe sherry hisses 'I'm doing what I want to.'
And the sister falls down off the window seal
With a puffed up tail she runs away
So she will be ready to fight a another day
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Fairy boy
Tonight fairy boy
Don't let me down
Don't let me beg for
an ounce of your love
Give me what I want
I want to be loved with
a difference by a god
Do you hear me fairy lover?
It must be your love
My divine being
I am after your strange
unusual love when allowed
Hear me say to you
Let me bend down
Allow me once again
to mend your broken wing
My love is the herb
To nurse your fairy heart
With my kiss divine fairy
You have broken through the
cordon of your fairy shyness
Release me fairy boy
To love you with selfless
free spirited abandon
Don't constrict my love
any further in your
Unreal wonderland fairy
poem by Ngaka Motaung
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