Quotes about eater, page 6
Anna - the story of a love
The Indians say
that the eater is the eaten.
We caught each other's eye
across a crowded room...
she with her mates,
but blushed in my direction...
and when I looked at her,
she glowed
and I glowed.
She too was ripe for passion.
We couldn't be kept apart;
later in the privacy of my room
my lips sought her unsullied bloom,
the irresistible downiness of her young skin
and soon that soft skin
was moist with passion
as we consumed each other,
and were subsumed in unity.
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poem by Michael Shepherd
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A Hand-Mirror
HOLD it up sternly! See this it sends back! (Who is it? Is it you?)
Outside fair costume--within ashes and filth,
No more a flashing eye--no more a sonorous voice or springy step;
Now some slave's eye, voice, hands, step,
A drunkard's breath, unwholesome eater's face, venerealee's flesh,
Lungs rotting away piecemeal, stomach sour and cankerous,
Joints rheumatic, bowels clogged with abomination,
Blood circulating dark and poisonous streams,
Words babble, hearing and touch callous,
No brain, no heart left--no magnetism of sex; 10
Such, from one look in this looking-glass ere you go hence,
Such a result so soon--and from such a beginning!
poem by Walt Whitman
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Neighbours
I am the type you are supposed to fear
Black and foreign
Big and dreadlocks
An uneducated grass eater.
I talk in tongues
I chant at night
I appear anywhere,
I sleep with lions
And when the moon gets me
I am a Wailer.
I am moving in
Next door to you
So you can get to know me,
You will see my shadow
In the bathroom window,
My aromas will occupy
Your space,
Our ball will be in your court.
[...] Read more
poem by Benjamin Zephaniah
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Variations of Love
The universe has
Germinated from love.
Yet to define
We find it
Pretty tuff.
Some people find love
Juicey and sweet,
That's why they grab it,
And never try to quit.
To someone
Love means sour,
Some people find it
As untouchable tower.
Some people define love
Tasteless and bitter,
They just sleep lazy
Like lotus eater.
[...] Read more
poem by Uttam Biswas
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Twice As Much
Red-red-red-wine!
Red-red-red-wine on my lips and,
I am about to say something;
But the sweet of the meat is in the eater.
Does not the rain has a father?
Does not the rain has a mother?
For my ears have heard of you but now,
My own eyes have seen you too.
Twice as much,
As beautiful as the daughters of Iyyob;
For the stone which the builders rejected had become the head.
Today, i am the stone and you are my lover;
For i am the headstone of the corner.
Come and work in my vineyard,
And come and quench my heart with love;
Like a roasted turkey and cranbery source from Turkey.
Today you are mine and,
[...] Read more
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Sampson's Lion
The lion that on Sampson roared,
And thirsted for his blood;
With honey afterwards was stored,
And furnished him with food.
Believers, as they pace along,
With many lions meet;
But gather sweetness from the strong,
And from the eater, meat.
The lions rage and roar in vain,
For Jesus is their shield;
Their losses prove a certain gain,
Their troubles comfort yield.
The world and Satan join their strength,
To fill their souls with fears;
But crops of joy they reap at length,
From what they sow in tears.
[...] Read more
poem by John Newton
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Meet the hunter.
Meet the hunter.
Oh, the day past and the sun disappear,
Night come and is time to put on the mask,
Hunger and ready to go hunting,
Hungry for meats and sausages,
Any catch both would be nice,
Boys and girls make the best to impress.
Holy showing legs and chest;
In this tiger den, with all hungry meats eater!
Hunting for a big fatty meat!
Who know the hunter will be hunts?
Let see who play the game smarter?
Dress in suit and tie, who know empty pocket or full?
Stand up front, the look can easily past everyone eyes.
If lucky you got a free drink, mostly you digs on your own pocket,
Be real stranger to stranger, buy you drinks?
In this western den, buy your own sweetie.
You think, you wise, really a fool!
Everyone out smart one another,
and nobody is a fool.
poem by See Fee Lee
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How Easter Eggs Get Their Colors
At Halloween we had more treats
Than we had trick-or-treaters
and at least one of us
living in this house
is not much of a candy eater
We had some red and green
M&Ms left over after
this Christmas season
There is some ribbon candy
left here as well for that
very same reason
Those Valentine hearts
I wrote about
Pink, Yellow, Orange
and other assorted pastel
Will likely get leftover
past their prime as well
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poem by Mary Havran
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I Am... (Bottomless Pool)
i am...
the bottomless pool
at the foot of the cliff,
the moment just before dawn.
the broken window
of the abandoned house,
the tire swing casting shadows.
i am the eyes of god
in the crickets' song,
the shovel caked with dirt.
i am the thrust of the pelvis,
and the death of the soul,
the unseen sweeper of hearts.
i am the tongue that evolves,
the fish that walk on land.
i am the drumbeat of lives remembered.
i am the child we cannot return to,
and the grave waiting in stillness.
i am the crash of ideas,
the eater of thoughts.
[...] Read more
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Praise of Dust
'What of vile dust?' the preacher said.
Methought the whole world woke,
The dead stone lived beneath my foot,
And my whole body spoke.
'You, that play tyrant to the dust,
And stamp its wrinkled face,
This patient star that flings you not
Far into homeless space.
'Come down out of your dusty shrine
The living dust to see,
The flowers that at your sermon's end
Stand blazing silently.
'Rich white and blood-red blossom; stones,
Lichens like fire encrust;
A gleam of blue, a glare of gold,
The vision of the dust.
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poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
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