En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The Voice & The Snake

(curly m.c./f.gregorian)
.
The first bowl on the earth
The second bowl on the sea
The third bowl on the rivers
The fourth bowl on the sun
The fifth bowl on the beast
The sixth bowl on the stars
The seventh bowl on the air
.
And the earth turned grey
Sea turned black
The rivers turned red
The sun turned cold
The beast turned pale
The stars turned fast
The air turned to poison

song performed by by Enigma
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Voice The Snake

(curly m.c./f.gregorian)
.
The first bowl on the earth
The second bowl on the sea
The third bowl on the rivers
The fourth bowl on the sun
The fifth bowl on the beast
The sixth bowl on the stars
The seventh bowl on the air
.
And the earth turned grey
Sea turned black
The rivers turned red
The sun turned cold
The beast turned pale
The stars turned fast
The air turned to poison

song performed by by Enigma
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Away The Bowl

Our grateful hearts with temperance burn,
Away, away the bowl,
From dram shops all, our steps we turn,
Away, away the bowl;
Farewell to rum and all its harms,
Farewell the wine-cup's boasted charms,
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.

See how that staggering drunkard reels!
Away, away the bowl;
Alas, the misery he reveals,
Away, away the bowl;
His children grieve, his wife's in tears!
How sad his once bright home appears!
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.

We drink no more, nor buy nor sell,
Away, away the bowl!
The grog-shop's offers we repel,
Away, away the bowl.
United in a temperance band,
We 're joined in heart, we 're joined in hand,
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.

poem by John Pierpont
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wish You Were Here

So
So you think you can tell
Heaven from hell
Blue skys from grey
Can you tell a green field
From a cold steel rail
A smile from a veil
Yeah do you think you can tell
Did they get you to trade
Your heros for ghosts
Hot ashes for trees
Hot air for a cool breeze
Cold comfort for change
Yeah and did you exchange
A walk on part in this war
For a leading role in a cage
How I wish, how I wish you were here
Were just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl
Year after year
Were running over the same old ground
What have we found
The same old fears
Well I wish you were here
I said I wish you were here yeah
Oh how I wish you were here
How I wish you were here
Hey and I wish you were here
Hey my rock star
How did you get so turned around
My rock star
How you did you get so turned around
Oh my rock star
(how did you get so turned around)
Did you get so turned around
Hey my my rock star
(how did you get so turned around
Inside out
Cut it all out now
Cut it all out now
Cut it all out now
Cut it all out now
Cut it out now
Cut it out now
Cut it out now
Cut it out now
Cut it all out now
Cut it all out now
Cut it all out

song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Seamen Three

Seamen three! What men be ye?
Gotham's three wise men we be.
Whither in your bowl so free?
To rake the moon from out the sea.
The bowl goes trim. The moon doth shine.
And our ballast is old wine;
And your ballast is old wine.

Who art thou, so fast adrift?
I am he they call Old Care.
Here on board we will thee lift.
No: I may not enter there.
Wherefore so? 'Tis Jove's decree,
In a bowl Care may not be;
In a bowl Care may not be.

Fear ye not the waves that roll?
No: in charmed bowl we swim.
What the charm that floats the bowl?
Water may not pass the brim.
The bowl goes trim. The moon doth shine.
And our ballast is old wine;
And your ballast is old wine.

poem by Thomas Love Peacock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Three Men of Gotham

SEAMEN three! What men be ye?
Gotham's three wise men we be.
Whither in your bowl so free?
To rake the moon from out the sea.
The bowl goes trim. The moon doth shine.
And our ballast is old wine.--
And your ballast is old wine.

Who art thou, so fast adrift?
I am he they call Old Care.
Here on board we will thee lift.
No: I may not enter there.
Wherefore so? 'Tis Jove's decree,
In a bowl Care may not be.--
In a bowl Care may not be.

Fear ye not the waves that roll?
No: in charmed bowl we swim.
What the charm that floats the bowl?
Water may not pass the brim.
The bowl goes trim. The moon doth shine.
And our ballast is old wine.--
And your ballast is old wine.

poem by Thomas Love Peacock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Explorations: XXVI

I stand
At your door-step
With an empty bowl
I can't ask you
Why I'm made
To stand there
I can't ask you
Why my bowl
Is empty;

The bowl
The emptiness
And I
Are all your design
Are your creation!

poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Only The Bowl!

i am only the bowl!
i am not the rice.
i am not the fire.
i am not the rain,
nor the sun that gave.
i am not the fertile earth.

i am not the human hands
that gathered, that prepared...
i am not even the hand that offers.
i am not the table, not the chair,
i am not the spoon.
when day is done,
and my place is known...

i am only the bowl!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0258 While the enamel holds

I've just made a passable loaf:
the mixing bowl could almost
be called a Thanksgiving Bowl -
maybe, could start a fashion:

it's made, not of catering-trade steel
which spins nicely on the worktop
nor of plastic, but
of enamel, made about 1929 I guess,
by Kockums of Sweden, size 28 cms
it's clearly stamped -
Kockum's whose proud claim is that
'it lasts a lifetime' - if
you're fortunate enough to be able
to test it thus...

my mother used it to make cakes
- I can hear the scratch of sugar, butter, flour, right now;
sometimes the smell of lemon or vanilla too. And
for her, too, gratitude, I guess,
while she used it, hands and thoughts,
although she could not put it to
the Kockum's test...But the silvery marks
of the fork, or whisk, or careful knife that
left little for me to lick,
disappeared from its strong enamel

and now I use it to make bread
wondering how many of
the current users could verify
to Kockum's management
their proud claim

for it was only late in life that
my mother told me that this bowl
this small 28 cm bowl
was my first baby bath

so as I use it with these mixed emotions
mixed together in this mixing bowl
receptacle of love on love
and thanksgiving
I note with some reflection
that recently, one slight chip
in its circular bowl has appeared
due perhaps to carelessness, not in
the preparing but the washing-up...

and think I'd rather think
(you see - the baby turned out intellectual)
my life were rounded by my failures in my care
than the life of an enamel bowl
however guaranteed

perhaps we'll go together...
dust to dust, flour to flour,
flowers falling to nourish
the seeds of flowers to come

I must remember to ask
my executors to write Kockum's
and confirm their not so often
substantiated claim

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cameron

Cameron the cat would never miss a trick –
Often in the garden on patrol.
Otherwise sleeping, though frequently meeting
His one and only love – that earthen bowl!

Cameron the cat took everything for granted -
Sure, the street lay under his control.
Contentedly snoozing – perhaps he 'd been boozing –
And toasting all that counts: his dearest bowl!

Cameron the cat would seek to take advantage –
His gullible owners often on parole.
Purring pathetically, and almost poetically,
He'd meow them into stacking up his bowl!

Cameron the cat was nonetheless a gem –
His owners saw him as their heart and soul,
But having to accept that he was so adept
At persuading them to fill his flipping bowl!

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009

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cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Three Wise Men of Gotham

Three wise men of Gotham,
They went to sea in a bowl,
And if the bowl had been stronger,
My song had been longer.

poem by Anonymous English
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life is just a bowl
Of cherries, truth is millions
Just have a dust bowl

haiku by Ken e Hall
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I Want A Little Sugar In My Bowl

Nina simone
I want a little sugar
In my bowl
I want a little sweetness
Down in my soul
I could stand some lovin
Oh so bad
Feel so lonely and I feel so sad
I want a little steam
On my clothes
Maybe I could fix things up
So theyll go
Whatsa matter daddy
Come on, save my soul
Drop a little sugar in my bowl
I aint foolin
Drop a little sugar in my bowl
Well I want a little sugar
In my bowl
Well I want a little sweetness
Down in my soul
You been acting strangely
Ive been told
Move me daddy
I want some sugar in my bowl
I want a little steam
On my clothes
Maybe I can fix things up so theyll go
Whatsa matter daddy
Come on save my soul
Drop a little sugar in my bowl
I aint foolin
Drop some sugar- yeah- in my bowl.

song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shortie #1

anticipation

a bowl unflushed
there is no
more blood

kahinam

Wa pa maflush ang
Bowl
Wala nay dugo

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Farewell The Bowl

Farewell to the cup, we have tarried too long,
Where the juice of the grape adds its witch'ry to song.
And the thoughts that flow'd freely are sombre and dull,
Our brains become heavy, farewell to the bowl,
Farewell, farewell, farewell, farewell to the bowl.

Oh, tarry no longer where joy flies away,
The heart and the soul lose their richest array,
Where eye mocketh eye, as unmeaning they roll,
The tongue whispers folly-farewell to the bowl.

Oh, think, if the maiden, who smiles in thine eyes,
Once saw thy proud mind in this shameful disguise;
Her heart would reject thee, how sadly her soul
Would pity and leave thee-oh, flee from the bowl.

Oh think, e'er the moment of thinking is past,
And chains of the mighty upon thee are cast!
Return-ere the iron shall enter thy soul,
And the dregs of thy life-a curse on the bowl.

poem by John Pierpont
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Forgotten

I’m sure you never think of me-
I never cross your mind.
You’re happy with the guy you wed,
You like your life just fine.

You can’t recall that night your mom
Came storming up the stairs.
How I went out your window
And she turned back, unaware.

You joined me later on the roof
Beneath the bowl of stars-
We formed a strange conjunction
To be observed by passing cars.

I’m sure you never think of me
You took a wedding vow.
As he snores softly in your bed
You’re not thinking of me now.

poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stars

sunny days in a winter world
scatter deception in her eyes
a glimmer of white has fallen
on her smile now she cries,
a sunny world has died these days
now I know, she longs for the days she now denies
chorus:
she has fallen from the stars
and I don't know what it was
the sugar bowl snowed in her tomorrow
yes, she calls upon the stars
on her way of broken glass
to take away that bowl of sorrow
that bowl of sorrow
yesterday's fading grey,
she forgot the kid she used to be
the pallor white she seeks for day by day,
I forgot the kid she used to be
now I know, she longs for the days she now denies
chorus
now I know, she longs for the days she now denies
chorus

song performed by by H-BlockX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Nonsense Poem - a Villanelle

A little mouse sings in a bowl
A little fish runs on a wheel
A little worm hops in a hole

A little hat has lost its sole
A little petal has no peel
A little mouse sings in a bowl

A little dog dances a reel
A little frog jumps on a mole
A little fish runs on a wheel

A little boat rings out a peal
A little bell loses its keel
A little mouse sings in a bowl

A little rock slips on a seal
A little perch walks on a pole
A little fish runs on a wheel

A little card shakes on a deal
A little sigh fancies a meal
A little mouse sings in a bowl
A little fish runs on a wheel

poem by Alison Cassidy
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The Indian minor

It landed on the wall
that divided the front yard
from the back
where my yellow BMW
was sheltered under a roof

It was dark brown with a yellow bill
and sharp small black intelligent eyes
watching everything
much like a crow or raven.

Every now and then
it darted down
to land next to the bowl
with the dog’s pellets
pecking them up
as another bird would seed.

The dog would eat every now and then
and sometimes guard its bowl
lying there defying that bird,
but when ever it would go
that bird would
have its feast,

till one day
that I took that bowl away
into the dogs pen
and then that bird
sat screaming on that wall
as if I had stolen
his dearest possessions
from him
as if there was nothing else to steal.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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ET Came To Breakfast (Fun Poem 10)

My breakfast was going snap, crackle and pop,
when suddenly in the chair opposite something went plop.
I looked across the table and was astonished to see,
a little green man looking at me.
I blinked a couple of times,
even pinched myself to make sure it was real.
He was, you can believe,
and my breakfast he was trying to steal.
We pulled at the bowl,
no one getting the upper hand,
and then he stuck his finger in the bowl,
and sucked out the blinking lot,
milk and my snap, crackle and pop.

The moral of this story.
If a little green man comes to breakfast,
Get an extra bowl.

28 April 2007

poem by David Harris
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Speck on a Bowl

The speck on the bowl
Tells the imperfection of the whole
Cries in its isolation to be removed
Just a speck on a bowl but how it drives me crazy!

poem by Bill Grace
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