Quotes about eats, page 7
The Man Who Dipped His Fingers In Salt And Lick Them All
he dips his fingers in
salt and licks them all
people look at him with
all surprise
he is weird and they do not
like him
He is detestable
they say
he does this everyday
all the days of the week
all the weeks of months
all the months of those years
the people shut him away
they close their doors
they vomit when they see him
they look at him with contempt
they throw him away from
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Oberon's Feast
Hapcot! To thee the Fairy State
I with discretion, dedicate.
Because thou prizest things that are
Curious, and un-familiar.
Take first the feast; these dishes gone,
We'll see the Fairy Court anon.
A little mushroon table spread,
After short prayers, they set on bread;
A moon-parched grain of purest wheat,
With some small glit'ring grit, to eat
His choice bits with; then in a trice
They make a feast less great than nice.
But all this while his eye is serv'd,
We must not think his ear was sterv'd:
But that there was in place to stir
His spleen, the chirring grasshopper,
The merry cricket, the puling fly,
The piping gnat for minstralcy.
And now, we must imagine first,
The elves present to quench his thirst
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poem by Robert Herrick
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Propaganda Ploy
'This is despicable!
And deplorable behavior.
Who and what is behind this?
It is utterly irresponsible.
Not only should these actions be investigated...
They should be banned and stopped,
From further activity!
Our initiatives are being ruined.
The very fabric of our society is being undermined.
This is more scandalous...
Than a crotch sniffing page
Delighting the lewd and descreet 'goings on'
In both republican and democratic chambers.
We must attack those
Who jeopardize our rights and prinicple interests
For what they are...and, forever shall be!
This 'Goodwill Movement' rumored to be surfacing
Upon the very footsteps of this republic nation,
Is nothing more than a propaganda ploy.
AND need I dare to mention...
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Gift From Prometheus To Mankind
In Greek Mythology there are many legends,
written about the cruelty, vindictiveness of the gods.
Zeus and the other gods in their petty jealousy,
rivalry often punished, sacrificed men like pawns.
Before the rule of Olympian Gods other Gods ruled.
These were the powerful Titans, the mighty elder gods.
Prometheus was the noblest of the sons of Uranus and Gaia.
Titans all three! Prometheus an arch-rebel and friend to man!
Prometheus belonged to the powerful race of Titans!
The powerful Titans, were cousins to the Olympian Gods,
whose constant hostility to man, Prometheus opposed!
Prometheus gave the wondrous gift of fire to man!
Hearing of this, in a rage Zeus, ordered Prometheus,
seized punished imprisoned; bound by steel chains!
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poem by Terence George Craddock
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Our Parents Are Always Ours!
wonderful universe
Wonderful are sky and stars
Wonderful are sun and planets
Wonderful are Earth and moon!
Wonderful are ocean and land
Wonderful are forest and deserts
Wonderful are flora and fauna,
wonderful are you, me they, wonderful are body of all living beings,
Wonderful are words,
Wonderful are thoughts,
Wonderful are brain and heart!
When God has put all systems together,
One system work for another,
Or one system work for all,
All should be well and healthy!
All has to go together
and what is wrong,
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poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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John Gorham
“Tell me what you’re doing over here, John Gorham,
Sighing hard and seeming to be sorry when you’re not;
Make me laugh or let me go now, for long faces in the moonlight
Are a sign for me to say again a word that you forgot.”—
“I’m over here to tell you what the moon already
May have said or maybe shouted ever since a year ago;
I’m over here to tell you what you are, Jane Wayland,
And to make you rather sorry, I should say, for being so.”—
“Tell me what you’re saying to me now, John Gorham,
Or you’ll never see as much of me as ribbons any more;
I’ll vanish in as many ways as I have toes and fingers,
And you’ll not follow far for one where flocks have been before.”—
“I’m sorry now you never saw the flocks, Jane Wayland,
But you’re the one to make of them as many as you need.
And then about the vanishing. It’s I who mean to vanish;
And when I’m here no longer you’ll be done with me indeed.”—
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poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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Iva's Pantoum
We pace each other for a long time.
I packed my anger with the beef jerky.
You are the baby on the mountain. I am
in a cold stream where I led you.
I packed my anger with the beef jerky.
You are the woman sticking her tongue out
in a cold stream where I led you.
You are the woman with spring water palms.
You are the woman sticking her tongue out.
I am the woman who matches sounds.
You are the woman with spring water palms.
I am the woman who copies.
You are the woman who matches sounds.
You are the woman who makes up words.
You are the woman who copies
her cupped palm with her fist in clay.
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poem by Marilyn Hacker
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A Bush Christmas
The sun burns hotly thro' the gums
As down the road old Rogan comes
The hatter from the lonely hut
Beside the track to Woollybutt.
He likes to spend his Christmas with us here.
He says a man gets sort of strange
Living alone without a change,
Gets sort of settled in his way;
And so he comes each Christmas day
To share a bite of tucker and a beer.
Dad and the boys have nought to do,
Except a stray odd job or two.
Along the fence or in the yard,
'It ain't a day for workin' hard.'
Says Dad. 'One day a year don't matter much.'
And then dishevelled, hot and red,
Mum, thro' the doorway puts her head
And says, 'This Christmas cooking, My!
The sun's near fit for cooking by.'
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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Two Ogres
Good children, list, if you're inclined,
And wicked children too -
This pretty ballad is designed
Especially for you.
Two ogres dwelt in Wickham Wold -
Each TRAITS distinctive had:
The younger was as good as gold,
The elder was as bad.
A wicked, disobedient son
Was JAMES M'ALPINE, and
A contrast to the elder one,
Good APPLEBODY BLAND.
M'ALPINE - brutes like him are few -
In greediness delights,
A melancholy victim to
Unchastened appetites.
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poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Ballad: The Two Ogres
Good children, list, if you're inclined,
And wicked children too -
This pretty ballad is designed
Especially for you.
Two ogres dwelt in Wickham Wold -
Each TRAITS distinctive had:
The younger was as good as gold,
The elder was as bad.
A wicked, disobedient son
Was JAMES M'ALPINE, and
A contrast to the elder one,
Good APPLEBODY BLAND.
M'ALPINE - brutes like him are few -
In greediness delights,
A melancholy victim to
Unchastened appetites.
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poem by WS Gilbert
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