Quotes about eater, page 4
Ellirie
The sign of the blood,
The first time;
The love of your muse,
The first time;
But, if it is shining all day long, let it shine,
Money for the circumcision,
Honey for the eater,
Pony for the rider,
Donkey for the traveller,
Monkey for the zoo;
But let the sun dry up my clothes!
For Ellirie is my name and,
I am here to share my sweet love with you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Dragon
Faster dragons will question my integrity,
Like a man detested I seek my revenge
On the bravery which defiled the bad dragon
That defends itself, itself and no other.
A little disorder is an alphabet to learn
For this dragon to learn and teach to its young.
The eggs have hatched and little do you know -
A word has been conveyed of late - you are mad!
The mad dragon has been a large eater of its own eggs!
poem by Naveed Akram
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Making Buildings
The piece-rate for making buildings rises
As you build more suddenly and quickly.
Pilfering justifies the innocent as they speak,
But does it mean goodness?
He is a pie-eater, a man so much hominoid,
Furious winds are horrific when there is goodness.
Look at the rain gauge to see why the weather barks
At the bulk of the land and sea.
The pieces we join are collected to describe
The state of the buildings, the very engineering.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Eventide Planting
I dare to plant a seed today
full of dreams, full of promise
though I die before it fruits
the eater's joy may my labours bring.
I've come to eat so much of fruits
not knowing how they came to be
some planter's labours, my heart has fed
their toils, their pains, my joy has brought.
And so today I dare to plant
though I die before it fruits
someday, somehow, others would taste
may their own joy, my labours bring.
poem by Michael Nkwocha
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Meat
One man's meat is another man's poison,
So let us think wisely with our acts and doings on this earth;
What you called food on your table is another man's poison,
What you eat as food in your country is,
What somebody else throws away as a waste;
So let us be very wise in whatever we do.
This world is like that,
But you can't eat your chicken and have it;
Since one man's meat looks very nice to the eater,
The same is poison to another who looks on.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Food To Cook
Food is a miracle from the One God who loves,
His followers obey him by declaring
A secret love of food;
The dinner appears to be forsaken
For love, and this we call fasting,
But fasting has been prescribed from Him,
And you are an eater of plants and animals,
So there is gratitude demonstrated.
This is a miraculous action:
A stop to ill-health has been committed
And a sin is now impossible
For those with faith,
For those with the love of food.
poem by Naveed Akram
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And Their Bindery
He lives among us like a eater of books,
Strolling with the guards of the laws and works.
He lived around the road,
Where they caught the load.
It was a book of inspiration
Carrying blind men a nation.
We do help a common man,
But this manly man was a book-fan.
Neither loving nor living his life,
The sword of a plain soldier was tough
To handle, to lift, and then swift
He challenges a most dangerous drift.
He lives with the bible of soldiery
Instead of the past-books, and their bindery.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Wild F*#$ing Manners
hunting a tiger
big sharp teeth
man-eater
these hunters
big egos, big guns
hunting for survival
need fur and meat to survive
hunting wild game
wild f*#$ing manners
saw lioness and her cubs
on f*#$ing youtube
wild animals is to game theory
as man is to war
primitive yet perfect in movements
stop hunting these majestic creatures
they echo the intelligence we lack
in a far away land called our sub-conscience
only to find our only way to organized life
we're just animals on a hunting ground
poem by Inner Projection
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The Hidden Singer
The gods are less for their love of praise.
Above and below them all is a spirit that needs nothing
but its own wholeness, its health and ours.
It has made all things by dividing itself.
It will be whole again.
To its joy we come together --
the seer and the seen, the eater and the eaten,
the lover and the loved.
In our joining it knows itself. It is with us then,
not as the gods whose names crest in unearthly fire,
but as a little bird hidden in the leaves
who sings quietly and waits, and sings.
poem by Wendell Berry
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A knave; a rascal; an eater of broken meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a lily-livered, action-taking knave, a whoreson, glass-gazing, super-serviceable finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar, and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deniest the least syllable of thy addition.
Earl of Kent in The Tragedy of King Lear
Added by Lucian Velea
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