Quotes about oyster, page 2
My Mind Is An Oyster
The heart, can only be as open as the mind.
The mind, the creator of my world.
Not the world, but my world.
The mind, building walls.
Walls of fear, resentment and bitterness.
The spirit is trapped.
Bouncing from heart to mind.
Like a ping pong ball.
For it is my mind that is closed.
I listened to the teachings of other closed minded teachers.
They speak of a peace, they do not have.
The preach of a love, that they still seek.
The world is my oyster.
My mind is an oyster.
To find the pearl, the shell must first open up.
It is once the mind opens, I can connect to the source.
The source that tells me I am the true treasure.
I see so many closed shells.
For their pearl is as brilliant as mine.
But through the closed shell it cannot be seen.
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poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Veruca Salt, the little brute
'Veruca Salt, the little brute,
Has just gone down the garbage chute,
(And as we very rightly thought
That in a case like this we ought
To see the thing completely through,
We've polished off her parents, too.)
Down goes Veruca! Down the drain!
And here, perhaps, we should explain
That she will meet, as she descends,
A rather different set of friends
To those that she has left behind–
These won't be nearly so refined.
A fish head, for example, cut
This morning from a halibut.
'Hello! Good morning! How d'you do?
How nice to meet you! How are you?'
And then a little further down
A mass of others gather round:
A bacon rind, some rancid lard,
A loaf of bread gone stale and hard,
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poem by Roald Dahl
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Modern Love V
The spring's audio tempest brings a mauve sunrise alarm full of chirping avarian prayers.
The gust's mouths open the blackness with yawns
while awakening dewy green fertile cornfields.
The stabbing wind's hands paint dalisque clouds on the innocent blue-sky like flapping white kerchiefs of goodbye to memories.
The infinite wind's broken heart flutters and emotes warm misty tears while performing to silent love's audience.
Among ancient swaying trees the mezzo tenor wind's song jumps around like Verdi's Egyptian victory march.
The whispering wind reveals its secret, as it churns the ocean's floor, touching the delicate pearl in your salty oyster.
Pirate whirling wind, that gathers quickly and steals away
forever-excessive foliage and spent hearts, like fluttering arrows of parrots.
Whimsical warm wind that melts your
winter ardor like a foamless tasmanian wave, spent and resting ashore in your damp tomb.
Your lip's kisses are deserting and diving back to your heart rather than waging an equinox battle with summer's breeze.
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poem by Liberatore Suffoletta
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Its A Wonderful World
(words & music by tepper - bennett)
Young as a circus parade, its a wonderful world
Pretty as pink lemonade, its a wonderful world
Life is a carnival, live it for all your worth
You are the star of the greatest show on earth
This big wide world is a clown with his nose painted red
A rainbow colored balloons dancing high overhead
Its everyones oyster, step up get your pearl
Its a wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, wonderful world
This big wide world is a clown with his nose painted red
A rainbow colored balloons dancing high overhead
Its everyones oyster, step up get your pearl
Its a wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, wonderful world
Its a wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, wonderful world
song performed by Elvis Presley
Added by Lucian Velea
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European Legacy
She smiles at me
From beyond the eastern sea-shore.
Flashing jewelled eyes,
She hoists her skirts so high.
Nouvelle cuisine or an oyster bar ---
Its really up to her.
Ill write every cheque she brings to me.
I shoot on sight ---
Its my european legacy.
Round the castle walls ---
About the highlands and the islands
The faint reminders stand.
Visitors who took a hand
A thousand years ago, or so ---
Stranded high and dry by tides ---
Washed up a new identity.
The channels wide ---
But its their european legacy.
I strain my eyes
Against the southern light advancing.
[...] Read more
song performed by Jethro Tull
Added by Lucian Velea
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Carrolling II-Parody Lewis CARROLL–The Mad Gardener’s Song
Carolling II
He Thought He Saw
He thought he saw new Internet
exchanging peer to peer,
he looked again and found it was
a mirage for each year
sees more control, “what rôle, ” he said,
“for values once held dear?
Some track to trace attack and get
convictions based on fear.'
He dreamt he saw spam disappear,
all consultations free,
he looked again and found it was
a spybot lottery.
“Is net neutrality”, he said,
“from rash risks viral clear? ”
[...] Read more
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Oxymoron
Oxymoron:
fresh fish
*********
JBO:
'The beach at Sanibel... an Arlington Cemetery of shells.'
*
Every suffocated or strangled fish is first given
waterboarding sensations.
*
Fishes more frequently than
mammals or birds are cut open
alive, while their eyes watch
the knifing of others and their
gills struggle for absent air.
Fish cannot scream.
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poem by O. Anna Niemus
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Trivia ; or, the Art of Walking the Streets of London : Book III
Of Walking the Streets by Night.
O Trivia, goddess, leave these low abodes,
And traverse o'er the wide ethereal roads,
Celestial queen, put on thy robes of light,
Now Cynthia nam'd, fair regent of the night.
At sight of thee the villain sheaths his sword,
Nor scales the wall, to steal the wealthy hoard.
O may thy silver lamp from heaven's high bower
Direct my footsteps in the midnight hour!
When night first bids the twinkling stars appear,
Or with her cloudy vest enwraps the air,
Then swarms the busy street; with caution tread
Where the shop-windows falling threat thy head;
Now labourers home return, and join their strength
To bear the tottering plank, or ladder's length;
Still fix thy eyes intent upon the throng,
And as the passes open, wind along.
Where the fair columns of St. Clement stand,
Whose straighten'd bounds encroach upon the Strand
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poem by John Gay
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True Confession
1
Today, recovering from influenza,
I begin, having nothing worse to do,
This autobiography that ends a
Half of my life I'm glad I'm through.
O Love, what a bloody hullaballoo
I look back at, shaken and sober,
When that intemperate life I view
From this temperate October.
To nineteen hundred and forty-seven
I pay the deepest of respects,
For during this year I was given
Some insight into the other sex.
I was a victim, till forty-six,
Of the rosy bed with bitches in it;
But now, in spite of all pretexts,
I never sleep a single minute.
O fellow sailor on the tossing sea,
O fleeting virgin in the night,
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poem by George Barker
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The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,
Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.
LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats 5
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question….
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.
[...] Read more
poem by T.S. Eliot
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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