It will once come to pass as the old goose quacked.
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Oh I Use to Be That Goose to Cook
I use to be that goose to cook.
One taken for granted...
Because I had been out and open.
Making the chase easy to take.
As I healed from a mending...
Comprised of negativity and heartbreak.
And today that I no longer care,
Who is there to play hard to get...
In a game of hide and seek.
My presence is not readily available.
To anyone I thought was there to care.
With a sweeping off my feet in the air.
And this is no longer a challenge sought.
With a hope to make myself easily caught.
A sitting goose or a duck I am not.
Waiting from dawn until dusk to be fawned.
I've moved on to correct those things I felt wrong.
I don't do the snapping,
With the quick quips quacked back.
And if anyone comes believing,
I can be strung along?
I tell them immediately I am booked.
'Oh, I use to be that goose to cook.'
But now I recognize myself to be a swan.
Living on the other side,
Of a more diverse...
And populated pond.
To strut and not waddle as I proceed in song.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Morse Moose & The Grey Goose
Right on down at the bottom of the sea
Tell me are you receiving me?
My name is morse moose and Im calling you
The grey goose was a steady boat
People said shes never float
One night when the moon was high
The grey goose flew away
As we were sailing round the rocks
The mate took out his compass box
And said the wind is like a fox
But the grey goose flew away
When out upon the open sea
The admiral, the mate and me
Prepared to face eternity
But the grey goose flew away
She flew into the stormy sea
Davy jones was calling me
But heading for tranquility
The grey goose flew away
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Problems Of A Journalist
“I want to get away somewhere and re-read Proust,”
Said an editor of Fortune to a man on Time.
But the fire roared and died, the phoenix quacked like a goose,
And all roads to the country fray like shawls
Outside the dusk of suburbs. Pacing the halls
Where mile-high windows frame a dream with witnesses,
You taste, fantast and epicure, the names of towns along the coast,
Black roadsters throbbing on the highways blue with rain
Toward one lamp, burning on those sentences.
“I want to get away somewhere and re-read Proust,”
Said an editor of Newsweek to a man on Look.
Dachaus with telephones, Siberias with bonuses.
One reads, as winter settles on the town,
The evening paper, in an Irving Place café.
poem by Weldon Kees
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Hole In My Head
Hole in my head
hole in my head
I need a boy like you like a hole in my head
I need a boy like you like a hole in my head
Let's just say we will and then don't instead
Wild goose chase
Wild goose chase
You're gonna take me boy on a wild goose chase
You're gonna take me boy on a wild goose chase
You better find somebody to take my place
You took my imagination and stomped it inthe ground
Now I can only think about you
chasin' the tracks that you left around
Hole in my head
hole in my head
Oh I need a boy like you like a hole in my head
I need a boy like you like a hole in my head
You make me feel so bad that I wish I was dead
Let the games begin
Yeah here I go again
I'm never gonna win
It must have knocked me crazy
it must have hit me hard
People must think I'm lazy
Like my shuffle's short
of playing a card
Wild goose chase
Wild goose chase
Oh I need a boy like you
like a wild goose chase
I need a boy like you
like a wild goose chase
You better find somebody to take my place
Let the games begin
Yeah here I go again
I need a boy like you (I need a boy like you)
I need a boy like you (I need a boy like you)
I need a boy like you
Like a hole in my head
Hole in my head
Hole in my head
Hole in my head
Hole in my head
Like a hole in my head
I need a boy like you (I need a boy like you)
I need a boy like you (I need a boy like you)
song performed by by Dixie Chicks from Fly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Golden Goose
If you know how to catch a mouse
The world will beat a pathway to your door
But since the first ones found our house
I can appreciate the saying more
I dont know
What they expect to find
I dont know
I cant make up my mind
They say hes got a special gift
But I dont envy him at all
They started camping in the yard
Theyve got their ears pressed up against the wall
I dont know
How long can this go on
I dont know
How did it last this long
Everybody wants an egg from the golden goose
But no one cares if theyre the one
Who kills the golden goose
Everybody wants an egg from the golden goose
I wonder just how many eggs are in the golden goose?
A paparazzis at the door
He says hes here from people magazine
And theres some lady on the phone
Wants him to advertise designer jeans
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thinking to get at once all the gold the goose could give, he killed it and opened it only to find - nothing.
Aesop in The Goose with the Golden Eggs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Christmas Goose
Mr. Smiggs was a gentleman,
And he lived in London town;
His wife she was a good kind soul,
And seldom known to frown.
'Twas on Christmas eve,
And Smiggs and his wife lay cosy in bed,
When the thought of buying a goose
Came into his head.
So the next morning,
Just as the sun rose,
He jump'd out of bed,
And he donn'd his clothes,
Saying, "Peggy, my dear.
You need not frown,
For I'll buy you the best goose
In all London town."
So away to the poultry shop he goes,
And bought the goose, as he did propose,
And for it he paid one crown,
The finest, he thought, in London town.
When Smiggs bought the goose
He suspected no harm,
But a naughty boy stole it
From under his arm.
Then Smiggs he cried, "Stop, thief!
Come back with my goose!"
But the naughty boy laugh'd at him,
And gave him much abuse.
But a policeman captur'd the naughty boy,
And gave the goose to Smiggs,
And said he was greatly bother'd
By a set of juvenile prigs.
So the naughty boy was put in prison
For stealing the goose.,
And got ten days' confinement
Before he got loose.
So Smiggs ran home to his dear Peggy,
Saying, "Hurry, and get this fat goose ready,
That I have bought for one crown;
So, my darling, you need not frown."
"Dear Mr Smiggs, I will not frown:
I'm sure 'tis cheap for one crown,
Especially at Christmas time --
Oh! Mr Smiggs, it's really fine."
"Peggy. it is Christmas time,
So let us drive dull care away,
For we have got a Christmas goose,
So cook it well, I pray.
"No matter how the poor are clothed,
Or if they starve at home,
We'll drink our wine, and eat our goose,
Aye, and pick it to the bone."
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Stravinsky used Mother Goose. He was influenced by Mother Goose, indirectly, but very beautifully.
quote by Gyorgy Ligeti
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Goose who Loved Golf
On the flight path down from Quebec
in the recent past, they say,
The lead goose saw a foursome
on the fairway, hard at play.
Their clothing was intriguing
Bright Argyles and Staid plaids
Little lackeys followed them,
carrying their bags.
The goose brigade lost interest
in proceeding South that day.
Instead they landed on the course
intent on watching play.
The lead Goose now spent all his time
At Bethpage, on the Black,
and honked golf commentary
to all his fledgling flock.
This lead Goose was the First,
brave Avian pioneer,
who broke the pattern going South-
instead he wintered here.
The Geese are protected by the law,
so we have no recourse.
We can't hunt down these honkers
who are greasing up the course.
Within one human lifetime-
a revolutionary change.
the geese have all stopped flying South
They're students of the game.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Songs of the duck
A duck praised a goose for her rich songs
And wanted the goose to comment her songs,
Which she did as the propriety demanded.
The duck believed true the comments made.
A nightingale was singing alone unheard.
28.12.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Green Roads
The green roads that end in the forest
Are strewn with white goose feathers this June,
Life marks left behind by someone gone to the forest
To show his track. But he has never come back.
Down each green road a cottage looks at the forest.
Round one the nettle towers; two are bathed in flowers.
An old man along the green road to the forest
Strays from one, from another a child alone.
In the thicket bordering the forest,
All day long a thrush twiddles his song.
It is old, but the trees are young in the forest,
All but one like a castle keep, in the middle deep.
That oak saw the ages pass in the forest:
They were a host, but their memories are lost,
For the tree is dead: all things forget the forest
Excepting perhaps me, when now I see
The old man, the child, the goose feathers at the edge of the forest,
And hear all day long the thrush repeat his song.
poem by Edward Thomas
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Looking For A Goose To Cook
When you find that you've been saddled for a ride...
Move your hoofs.
When you find that you've been saddled for a ride...
Someone's got you hooked!
When you find that you've been saddled for a ride...
Move your hoofs.
When you find that you've been saddled for a ride...
Someone's got you hooked!
I know,
When I'm hooked.
I can't,
Move my hoofs.
And I don't want to be,
Saddled down...
By a lover,
Looking for a goose to cook.
I know,
When I'm hooked.
I can't,
Move my hoofs.
And I don't want to be,
Saddled down...
By a lover,
Looking for a goose to cook.
When you find that you've been saddled for a ride...
Move your hoofs.
When you find that you've been saddled for a ride...
Someone's got you hooked!
I know,
When I'm hooked.
I can't,
Move my hoofs.
And I don't want to be,
Saddled down...
By a lover...
Looking for a goose to cook.
Many looking at a saddled goose to cook.
And I don't want to be a saddled goose to cook.
Many looking at a saddled goose to cook.
And I don't want to be a saddled goose to cook.
I know,
When I'm hooked.
I can't,
Move my hoofs.
And I don't want to be,
Saddled down...
By a lover,
Looking for a goose to cook.
Many looking at a saddled goose to cook.
And I don't want to be a saddled goose to cook.
Many looking at a saddled goose to cook.
And I don't want to be a saddled goose to cook.
Many,
Are looking for a goose to cook.
Many,
Are looking for a goose to cook.
And I don't want to be a saddled goose to cook.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Mouse Who Ate Louse
The rat who ate louse
was really funny
as he thought he was fast enough to race the bunny
he had a race with the bunny
and it was funny
that the bunny
raced him as ought to loose
so he said to the goose
oh no here I loose
its OK said the goose
but he said no I hadn't ought to loose
why said the goose
you ought to loose
so said the mouse
its OK I'll have a competition who eats more louse
with the bunny
ya said the funny bunny
lets do the competition
so won the mouse at eating louse! ! ! ! !
poem by Aryaman Ajit Naik
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Gold digger and the Golden Goose
Though the miner digs for gold he never gets gold; only the weekend poor wage he counts with tears
And the gold runs to the tycoon.
The poor man's golden goose never lays golden eggs.
*[ According to the ancient Greek fable, the owner killed the goose to get all the gold at once.]
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Hiding With A Squab
'Have you run out of luck? '
Said the goose who left a flock of geese,
On an approach...
To what was thought,
To be a sitting duck plucked.
~No not at all.~
Replied a nearby pigeon,
Practicing ventriloquism...
And hiding with a squab,
Of witnessing young pigeons.
~My family and I,
Have grown tired of berries, popcorn and nuts.
And we decided to use a decoy,
To see what showed up.
But to my surprise,
A nosey goose has arrived.
Strutting with a pulchritude...
To annoy a duck...
My uncle disguised.
Telling me that I had talents,
The family thought could be put to better use.
And here you come strutting...
Believing a plucked duck has run out of luck,
When tonight a family of pigeons....
Are going to feast on cooked goose.
Something to feed the younger pigeons,
To lift them with an ego boost!
Get 'em boys! ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Monkey and Goose, Snake and Bull, and Tiger Lou
Monkey and goose
Snake and bull
And there friend tiger lou
Met at hummingbird's garden
For afternoon tea for two
In hummingbird's garden
Raised the most precious colors
Be they red or blue, pink or white
To all who viewed
It was such a dazzling sight
Somewhere between succulent sips
The question of God's existance
Became more than a quip.
Where is it that God can be found?
Is he here upon Earth's holy ground?
Then goose said, 'I will fly across
This land, my wings are strong and
When it comes to tiring, I have no end
From high away I can see, so please
For certain, I am the one to send.'
Monkey said, 'I can swing from
Tree to tree all day long
So high that I can see
Every aspect of the land
So if anyone goes, let it be me.'
Snake said, 'I will slither, I will crawl
Across the swamp, across the bog
If this God exists surely
I will be the one
To bring back a certainty
Bull steps in as to be not excluded,
'I will cross the plains from end to end
I will search from dawn to dawn
If there be such a place
It will be found by me on Earth's green lawn.'
Tiger steps up with a growl,
'I will go searching in the fields of rice
I will go where the sugarcane grows
I will not stop, so cast my lot,
When I come back, it will be told.'
Then they left, each on a separate road
And they would be gone for many a day
But then there came to pass
Goose and monkey, snake and bull, and tiger lou
Met at hummingbirds with finished task
Goose said, 'I have found God
And I know the only way.'
'Say hey, ' said the monkey, 'for you are all wrong
Through the woods have I found God
It's through the woods all day long.'
'Nay, ' snake had to say, 'I found God
And only I know the way.
Across the swamp, I'm here to state
Is the only way to him
Anything else is tempting fate.'
Bull bellows loudly most of all
'You fools, I have searched for days and days
It's across the fields of grass
That you must go to God
All of your remarks are so crass.'
Tiger lou darkened his eyes,
'Idiots! the devil has fooled you all
If you seek God, I and only I know the way
So appoligize or step away back
To show you let me say.
Then there was a viscous roar
Monkey strangled goose, snake bit monkey knee
Tiger bit snake in half, then bull flung tiger
High into the sky, breaking his back with a crack
Bull burst his heart with such strength, didn't linger.
Hummingbird in her garden was sadden
Began humming and humming a song
The song turned into into a chant that flew to heaven
Where God was and is today
Waiting for searching souls, that he will never abandon.
Monkey, goose, bull, snake and lou
Before God stood, looking blue
'Have you anything to say? '
But only silence crossed their lips
'Only I know the way
Only I am the way
Only through me can there be a way.'
poem by Midnights Voice
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The Moose and the Goose
The mighty mad moose said to the gentle gliding goose,
“It’s not fair you fly in formation while I suffer much abuse.
Wind and breeze are there as you fly first class.
I’m down here on the ground fighting weeds and grass.”
The flock of geese had just landed for some food and rest,
And here is this mighty mad moose acting like a real pest.
But the head gliding goose had a gentle reply,
“Mighty mad moose you’re upset and I don’t know why.”
“Each year we chart the route for you mighty moose.
We’re the train’s engine, while you have freedom of a caboose.
Pay attention to our direction as we geese pass over;
Then you moose will know the way and have time for clover.”
Sir moose replied, “You fly south for winter and return in spring.
So all I have to do is remember that one important thing.
As I browse through trees and brush, I need to raise my eyes
To see you all as you map our way through the skies.”
The attitude of mighty moose changed from mad to glad,
Since he understood the treasure that he really always had.
As the gentle gliding geese flew off in formation,
Mighty moose smiled and tipped his antlers in appreciation.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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On The Road To Gethsemane
on the road to Gethsemane...
i pass burned out buildings,
farm lands scorched by the bombing.
i pass the skeleton bodies
of young children who starved.
i pass the unmarked graves,
of young boys sent to war.
i pass the flag of the liars,
and the tents of mourning.
i pass vacant factories,
and houses left empty.
i pass through cocaine streets,
where all flesh is for sale.
i pass the unemployed masses,
and their desperate eyes.
i pass the baby born unwanted,
and the prison's stink.
i pass empty churches,
and hollow ringing bells.
i pass families broken,
and peoples enslaved.
i pass the moral guns of prejudice,
rank with immorality!
i pass the crippled, the sick,
and those desperately alone...
these tears of blood
are human tears,
this cross we all bear!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Value Of Ethics
If a duck quacks and waddles,
Wearing a top hat while quacking...
But without a single fact quacked,
How can this duck hide its back...
With beliefs like that.
If a duck quacks and waddles,
Wearing a top hat while quacking...
And yet,
Disguises as a zebra amongst elephants...
To have others guess,
While sipping on champagne with donkeys...
Can this be considered a mess?
Or does this reflect an acceptance?
Representing the value of ethics.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Chant For Dark Hours
Some men, some men
Cannot pass a
Book shop.
(Lady, make your mind up, and wait your life away.)
Some men, some men
Cannot pass a
Crap game.
(He said he'd come at moonrise, and here's another day!)
Some men, some men
Cannot pass a
Bar-room.
(Wait about, and hang about, and that's the way it goes.)
Some men, some men
Cannot pass a
Woman.
(Heaven never send me another one of those!)
Some men, some men
Cannot pass a
Golf course.
(Read a book, and sew a seam, and slumber if you can.)
Some men, some men
Cannot pass a
Haberdasher's.
(All your life you wait around for some damn man!)
poem by Dorothy Parker
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