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Internationale Gedichte Sämtliche nicht-deutschsprachige Gedichte. |
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26.08.2007, 21:37 | #1 |
Miss Apple
(Ich weiß dass es schwul ist )
Miss Apple was green and red but most of all blue When the sun came up she was covered with morning dew She was hanging on a tree in the garden for so long But nobody picked her up, she thought something was wrong Her biggest dream was to be a sweet apple pie And to be sold in a store, for people to buy She wanted everyone to drink her juice But deep inside she felt she had no use Even when it was windy Miss Apple didn’t fall If somebody just took and stole her, she wouldn’t mind at all They picked all the apples with a ladder, but she was forgotten And she knew soon she would be brown and rotten She said: “One day I will be a sweet apple pie I will be sold in a store, for people to buy I want everyone to drink my juice But deep inside, I know, I have no use” There was a boy who nearly died from starvation Wanted to eat an apple, but never had the occasion He was too lazy to jump and he was also afraid That he would get hurt trying, but soon it would be too late He waited for an apple falling on his head But he knew if he kept waiting he’d be dead He couldn’t climb as high as the apples hung And his ladder had a broken rung When he dared jumping all the apples were hanging too high But then he saw Miss Apple hanging on the branch nearby Miss Apple was the one the boy chose Because he needed no effort since Miss Apple was so close The boy chose Miss Apple because he had no apple to eat Because she was easy to reach, not because she was sweet And Miss Apple was so sad, she wanted to be nothing more But a sweet apple pie sold in a store She wanted to be someone’s sweet apple pie A precious apple sold in a store, for people to buy She wanted someone to drink her juice But she was so very sad that she had no use Miss Apple was green and red but most of all blue When the sun came up she was covered with morning dew She was hanging on a tree in the garden for so long But nobody picked her up, something was wrong Worms and maggots laying eggs, eating her up from inside And all over the garden the stench of blight She started to rot and in the wind she would sway Nobody would care, she’s still hanging today |
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26.08.2007, 22:08 | #2 |
Gast
Beiträge: n/a
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Nimm schnell: hab Dir zum Dank für dieses zärtliche, so wahre, phantasievolle, wunderbare Gedicht eine Kette aus Apfelkernen aufgefädelt...ohja, sie steht dir phantastisch.
Du, das werde ich auswendig lernen. Ich finde, es ist ein Klassiker und sicher nützlich bei Familienfesten, wenn im Verlauf der Thanksgiving-Dramen Not am Mann ist, die Kids aufgeregter Eltern zu beruhigen. Dann kann man es schnell aus dem Jackett ziehen. Es erinnert mich an E.E. Cummings. Wie heisst das Gedicht schnell? Ach ja, "Mary and Molly and May". kennst du es? Die nächste Apple-Pie werde ich dir widmen. Ich mag diese einfachen Dramen, die, die keiner siehst, außer ganz selten Menschen wie du. Wenn man dann noch schafft, sowas in Worte zu fassen, ist es sehr, sehr schön. Danke. |
27.08.2007, 16:53 | #3 |
Irgendwie entgeht mir die angekündigte Homoerotik... also bitte nichts versprechen was du dann nicht hältst.
(Ganz im Ernst... es stößt mir immer sehr bitter auf wenn schwul als scheinbar abwertender Begriff verwendet wird) Ansonsten kann ich mich meinem Vorredner nur anschließen! Ein bittersüßes Gleichnis für die Erntedankzeit, am besten vorgetragen über frischem Apfelkuchen von Muttern! Good work! |
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02.09.2007, 18:17 | #4 |
ich stimme mit ein, wundervolles gedicht!
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