Quotes about cake, page 2
You Take the Cake
If I didn't provide you with munchies,
You wouldn't find a munch to crunch.
You would complain about the labor.
That it takes for you to make your lunch.
If I didn't provide you with munchies,
You wouldn't find a munch to crunch.
You would complain about the labor.
That it takes for you to make your lunch.
You take the cake.
With nothing brought from you to the table.
You take the cake.
With judgements passed and faked fables.
You take the cake...
And you leave no one a taste.
If I didn't provide you with munchies,
You wouldn't find a munch to crunch.
You would complain about the labor.
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Some-Fake-A Baked Cake
No I don't have...
What I do have.
And I do have...
That which I don't.
A peaceless sleep...
Like many who walk 'mean' streets.
No I wont have,
None of that!
Strung out on dope,
Because I can't cope.
No I don't have,
None of that to keep me off track.
Or,
Make an impact.
No I don't have...
What I do have.
And I do have...
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sister's cake
I'd not complain of Sister Jane, for she was good and kind,
Combining with rare comeliness distinctive gifts of mind;
Nay, I'll admit it were most fit that, worn by social cares,
She'd crave a change from parlor life to that below the stairs,
And that, eschewing needlework and music, she should take
Herself to the substantial art of manufacturing cake.
At breakfast, then, it would befall that Sister Jane would say:
"Mother, if you have got the things, I'll make some cake to-day!"
Poor mother'd cast a timid glance at father, like as not--
For father hinted sister's cooking cost a frightful lot--
But neither she nor he presumed to signify dissent,
Accepting it for gospel truth that what she wanted went!
No matter what the rest of 'em might chance to have in hand,
The whole machinery of the house came to a sudden stand;
The pots were hustled off the stove, the fire built up anew,
With every damper set just so to heat the oven through;
The kitchen-table was relieved of everything, to make
That ample space which Jane required when she compounded cake.
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poem by Eugene Field
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The wedding cake couple
The wedding cake couple
Held hands on-top in vigil
Clinging on to each other tightly
There ‘I do's' written in song
Lasted just as long as it took!
Mother in law to take another
Man across the ebony dance floor.
Her six more devoured the cake
But are wedding cake couple
They still held hands in vigil
On the last tier of the disaffected
So they pervaded and kissed
But then great grandma waltzed
In like an elephant to depose
All those who imposed self will
She cared little for our wedding cake couple
She snapped them down the middle
Just to see if they weren't just candy too.
But are wedding cake couple
They still held hands somewhere later
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poem by Mark Heathcote
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Take Your Life Off Pause
If you hesitate to bake it,
You or anyone will get to taste the cake.
Why is there a procrastination?
What is it you await to negotiate?
You will never know how that cake is rated.
Or even worthy of debate.
If you hestitate to bake it,
Pointless becomes the time wasted.
Take your life off pause,
Because you're seeking first to appease.
Take your life off pause,
Add to your life flavor.
Don't be afraid to dip into mystique.
Take your life off pause and bake it.
Take your life off pause and bake that cake.
Take your life off pause don't you fake it.
Take your life off pause don't wait too late.
Take your life off pause.
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ballad of the Jelly-Cake
A little boy whose name was Tim
Once ate some jelly-cake for tea--
Which cake did not agree with him,
As by the sequel you shall see.
'My darling child,' his mother said,
'Pray do not eat that jelly-cake,
For, after you have gone to bed,
I fear 't will make your stomach ache!'
But foolish little Tim demurred
Unto his mother's warning word.
That night, while all the household slept,
Tim felt an awful pain, and then
From out the dark a nightmare leapt
And stood upon his abdomen!
'I cannot breathe!' the infant cried--
'Oh, Mrs. Nightmare, pity take!'
'There is no mercy,' she replied,
'For boys who feast on jelly-cake!'
And so, despite the moans of Tim,
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poem by Eugene Field
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THE MAN WHO POISONED HIMSELF BY MISTAKE [as told by his ghost]
There was a man alot like me
Who'd sit around and watch TV
He liked to drink and think alot
And bet, but never win alot
He was a curious winsome fella
Who always carried an umbrella
In sunshine and in showers
He'd stand under it for hours
Avoided walking under ladders
He waved at magpipes and
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poem by Yvette Smith
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Red Riding Hood
Many are the deceivers:
The suburban matron,
proper in the supermarket,
list in hand so she won't suddenly fly,
buying her Duz and Chuck Wagon dog food,
meanwhile ascending from earth,
letting her stomach fill up with helium,
letting her arms go loose as kite tails,
getting ready to meet her lover
a mile down Apple Crest Road
in the Congregational Church parking lot.
Two seemingly respectable women
come up to an old Jenny
and show her an envelope
full of money
and promise to share the booty
if she'll give them ten thou
as an act of faith.
Her life savings are under the mattress
covered with rust stains
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poem by Anne Sexton
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Termarter Sorce
It wasn't kid stakes. I 'ad no crook lurk
To act deceivin', or to treat 'er mean.
I'm old enough to know them games don't work
Not with Doreen.
Besides, deceit ain't in me bag uv tricks.
I got a few; but there is some that sticks.
Sticks in me gizzard. Some blokes sees no wrong
In workin' points, an' thinks it bonzer sport
To trifle with a wife's belief, so long
As they ain't cort.
But, when yeh play the game on dead straight lines,
It 'urts to be accused uv base designs.
It starts this mornin'. I wake with a tooth
That's squirmin' like a basketful uv snakes.
Per'aps I groan a bit, to tell the truth;
An' then she wakes,
An' arsts me wot I'm makin' faces for.
I glare at 'er, an' nurse me achin' jor.
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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Christmas Cake
Bunny rabbit
Baking a cake
For merry Christmas day
When the children came
By singing Christmas Carol
Bunny will cut the cake
Bunny rabbit
Baking a cake
For merry Christmas day
When the children eat
The Christmas cake
Bunny will sing the carol.
poem by Dilipbhasker Mathra
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