Eat Me Poem Quotes & Sayings

Every time I watch
Lady and the Tramp
I think
"SHE'S HAVING SOME OF YOUR PASTA!"
"QUICK! EAT IT ALL! EAT IT ALL, NOW!!!"
"GROWL! BARE YOUR TEETH! DO SOMETHING!
"OH, DON'T GIVE HER THE MEATBALL!
THERE'S MEAT IN IT!"
"IDIOT!"
But then again
I'm not the romantic type. — Francesco Marciuliano

What we eat is a poem. — Anthony Doerr

The tulips are too red in the first place, they hurt me.
Even through the gift paper I could hear them breathe
Lightly, through their white swaddlings, like an awful baby.
Their redness talks to my wound, it corresponds.
They are subtle : they seem to float, though they weigh me down,
Upsetting me with their sudden tongues and their color,
A dozen red lead sinkers round my neck.
Nobody watched me before, now I am watched.
The tulips turn to me, and the window behind me
Where once a day the light slowly widens and slowly thins,
And I see myself, flat, ridiculous, a cut-paper shadow
Between the eye of the sun and the eyes of the tulips,
And I have no face, I have wanted to efface myself.
The vivid tulips eat my oxygen. — Sylvia Plath

The poem is like a monster, against which the critic does battle. There is only one way to conquer the monster: you must eat it, bones, blood, skin, pelt, and gristle. And even then the monster is not dead, for it lives in you, is assimilated into you, and you are different and somewhat monstrous yourself for having eaten it. — Unknown

This for That

What will I have for breakfast?
I wish I had some plums
like the ones in Williams's poem.
He apologized to his wife
for eating them
but what he did not
do was apologize to those
who would read his poem
and also not be able to eat them.
That is why I like his poem
when I am not hungry.
Right now I do not like him
or his poem. This is just
to say that.

A kinesthesia for me! It is definitely the sort of poem that makes me go to the kitchen to check if a have some plumes. I really enjoy some of Padgett's poems! — Ron Padgett

Fool brother Filip led blind brother Daret
deep into the black cave.
He knew that inside it, the Queen Crab resided
but that didn't scare him away.

Said blind brother Daret to fool brother Filip,
does Queen Crab no longer reign?
I have heard she is vicious, and likes to eat fishes.
It's best we avoid her domain.

Answered fool Filip to his brother small,
have I not always kept you safe?
I know what I'm doing, for I'm older than you,
and I'll never lead you astray. — Susan Dennard

a poem can eat a person whole. for years. — Nayyirah Waheed

The moon people do not eat by swallowing food but by smelling it. Their money is poetry - actual poems, written out on pieces of paper whose value is determined by the worth of the poem itself. — Paul Auster

if you eat men
and still feel
like you're starving,
you're craving something
that they cannot give. — K.Y. Robinson

I don't like to talk. every time i go somewhere with a friend they always expect me to talk to them. i like to sit quietly. when i watch a movie or read a poem i don't like to discuss it with anyone. i like to watch movies and then maybe sleep. no talking. occasionally i watch the same movie over and over again until i fall asleep. i prefer watching movies alone. i prefer reading alone. i prefer eating alone. i prefer walking alone. i prefer listening to music alone. i prefer singing alone. i prefer swimming alone. i prefer to eat small children alone. i like it when sean reads me poetry but i just like to listen quietly and not comment afterwards. sometimes i feel this makes him uncomfortable. — Ellen Kennedy

Yes, I know," Isadora said, and then read her poem, leaning forward so Carmelita Spats would not overhear:
"I would rather eat a bowl of vampire bats
than spend an hour with Carmelita Spats."
The Baudelaires giggled and then covered their mouths so nobody would know they were laughing at Carmelita.
"That was great," Klaus said. "I like the part about the bowl of bats. — Lemony Snicket

When I see a cow, it is not an animal to eat, it is a poem of pity for me and I worship it and I shall defend its worship against the whole world. — Mahatma Gandhi

I slay dragons at night while you sleep.
I see by the way your face contorts how they exist in your dreams.
Willing a magic sword, I plunge into your deepest nightmares and swing at the beasts with all my might, dodging flames exhaled by monsters that would eat me alive to go on torturing the fair one I love. I see your face relax, eyes still drowsily closed, when the mighty dragon is slain.
It may be that my fingers rub soft circles on your forehead as I imagine my brave fight as a knight reclaiming your dreams. You smile under the spell of my touch, and I am rewarded. And so, my love, as I await the dawn, I stand ready to slay dragons while you sleep. — Richelle E. Goodrich

Love is the soul of the world, though its body bleeds, and we must learn to bleed with it. Love is also the seed and milk and the fruit of the world, though we can partake of it in greed or reverence. We are born, we eat, and learn, and die. We leave a tracery of messages in the lives of others, a little shifting of the soil, a stone moved from here to there, a word uttered, a song, a poem left behind. I was here, each of these declare. I was here. — Michael D. O'Brien

Ash, ash - -
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there
A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.
Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.
Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.
From the poem Lady Lazarus — Sylvia Plath

Choose Life over the other stuff. Get out of your head. Live. Dress up. Eat. Touch people. Help out. Give up. Love people. Give your best away. There's more. What's the problem? Relax. You're going to die. Throw a party. Eat off my plate. Sing to me. Meet me in the bedroom. Get a massage. Give one. Let your amazement out into the room. Pry open the box you hide your joy in. Be a poem. — John Patrick Shanley

We've all led raucous lives, some of them inside, some of them out. But only the poem you leave behind is what's important. Everyone knows this. The voyage into the interior is all that matters, Whatever your ride. Sometimes I can't sit still for all the asininities I read. Give me the hummingbird, who has to eat sixty times His own weight a day just to stay alive. Now that's a life on the edge. — Charles Wright

I am, a shadow
that grows longer as the sun
moves, drawn out
on a thread of wonder.
If I bear burdens
they begin to be remembered
as gifts, goods, a basket
of bread that hurts
my shoulders but closes me
in fragrance. I can
eat as I go.
("Stepping Westward") — Denise Levertov

A King Inside Who Listens

There are many people with their eyes open
whose hearts are shut. What do they see?
Matter.

But someone whose love is alert,
even if the eyes go to sleep,
he or she will be waking up thousands of others.

If you are not one of those light-filled lovers,
restrain your desire-body's intensity.
Put limits on how much you eat
and how long you lie down.

But if you are awake here in the chest,
sleep long and soundly.

Your spirit will be out roaming and working,
even on the seventh level.

Muhammad says, I close my eyes and rest in sleep,
but my love never needs rest.

The guard at the gate drowses.
The king stays awake.

You have a king inside who listens
for what delights the soul.

That king's wakefulness
cannot be described in a poem. — Jalaluddin Rumi

I shall be your poet! I do not want to be a poet for others; make your appearance, and I shall be your poet. I shall eat my own poem, and that will be my food. Or do you find me unworthy? Just as a temple dancer dances to the honor of the god Gudutl, so I have consecrated myself to your service; light, thinly clad, limber, unarmed, I renounce everything. I own nothing; I desire to own nothing; I love nothing; I have nothing to lose-but have I not thereby become more worthy of you, you who long ago must have been tired of depriving people of what they love, tired of their craven sniveling and craven pleading. Surprise me-I am ready — Soren Kierkegaard