Mules make a great fuss about their ancestors having been donkeys.
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Mules make a great fuss about their ancestors having been horses.
Mules are always boasting that their ancestors were horses.
William
The vulture flew again and,
Your love is like 'the Ark of the Covenant';
But i will always follow your laws.
It was right in the eyes of the people and to love you,
Bringing food on donkeys, camels, mules and oxen;
For, i will always love you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Raconteur tells about the Election
A Zealot has painted his stubborn mule black & white stripes.
And then the mule became a Zebra.
This idiot wants to enrol his pet to the coming race.
Early in the morning he goes to the racecourse with his Zebra for practice.
There are no any restrictions it seems
Donkeys, mules, ponies, zebras and dogs all are allowed for the annual rat race?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Charge Of The Mule Brigade
Half a mile, half a mile,
Half a mile onward,
Right through the Georgia troops
Broke the two hundred.
'Forward the Mule Brigade!
Charge for the Rebs,' they neighed.
Straight for the Georgia troops
Broke the two hundred.
'Forward the Mule Brigade!'
Was there a mule dismayed?
Not when their long ears felt
All their ropes sundered.
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to make Rebs fly.
On! to the Georgia troops
Broke the two hundred.
Mules to the right of them,
Mules to the left of them,
Mules behind them
Pawed, neighed, and thundered.
Breaking their own confines
Breaking through Longstreet's lines
Into the Georgia troops
Stormed the two hundred.
Wild all their eyes did glare,
Whisked all their tails in air
Scattering the chivalry there,
While all the world wondered.
Not a mule back bestraddled,
Yet how they all skedaddled -
Fled every Georgian,
Unsabred, unsaddled,
Scattered and sundered!
How they were routed there
By the two hundred!
Mules to the right of them,
Mules to the left of them,
Mules behind them
Pawed, neighed, and thundered;
Followed by hoof and head
Full many a hero fled,
Fain in the last ditch dead,
Back from an ass's jaw
All that was left of them, -
Left by the two hundred.
When can their glory fade?
Oh, what a wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Honor the charge they made!
Honor the Mule Brigade,
Long-eared two hundred!
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Hush The Fuss
You've been familiar with the bottom,
But it's time to look up.
And dropp excuses if you got 'em,
With a mind corrupt...
On stuff!
And thinking life is too tough.
And that you've had enough,
Because the life you live is just too rough.
Hush the fuss.
Since too many got it rougher.
You've been familiar with the bottom,
But it's time to look up.
And dropp excuses if you got 'em,
With a mind corrupt...
On stuff!
Hush the fuss.
Since too many got it rougher.
You complain about the trivial things.
But...
Hush the fuss.
Since too many got it rougher.
You want to blame your pain on others to name,
But...
Hush the fuss.
Since too many got it rougher.
And you want to play the same tired games,
But...
Hush the fuss.
Since too many got it rougher.
Hush the fuss.
Hush the fuss.
Hush the fuss,
Since too many got it rougher.
You've been familiar with the bottom,
But it's time to look up.
And dropp excuses if you got 'em,
With a mind corrupt...
On stuff!
But...
Hush the fuss.
Hush the fuss.
Yes,
Hush your fuss,
Since too many got it rougher.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Today You Guys Are Just Going To Have To Wait
At times I feel,
I provoke the ghosts...
Of my ancestors.
Especially when I know,
I am not at my best!
And rest I'd rather get.
Than to impress with those gifts,
From which I did get,
As a result of my ancestors blood and sweat.
Never did I wish,
To sit...
In the taking for granted,
Of those I represent and miss.
But I do admit,
A feeling I provoke...
The wishes of my ancestors.
Those ghosts within me that make visits.
Awaiting impatiently to do...
Not what I want.
But what they insist!
'Today you guys are just going to have to wait,
And sit.
I am tired.
I need rest.
And rest I am going to get! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Only Mules
'The submarine was quite within its rights in sinking the cargo of the Armenian,—1,422 mules valued at $191,400.'
No matter; we are only mules
And slow to understand
We drown according to the rules
Of war, we contraband
War reckons us as shot and shell,
As so much metal lost.
And mourns the dollars gone to swell
The monstrous bill of cost.
Would that we had been wrought of steel
And not of quivering flesh!
Of iron, not of nerves that feel,
And maddened limbs that thresh
The sucking seas in stubborn strife
For that dim right of ours
To what no factory fashions, life,
No Edison endowers.
Our last wild screams are choked; you know
It does not matter, for
We're only mules that suffered so,
And contraband of war.
poem by Katharine Lee Bates
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Lightning
(chorus)
Hey, whats all the fuss about?
Hey, whats all the fuss about?
Hey, whats all the fuss about?
Hey, whats all the fuss about?
They say lightning, they say lightning
Lightning never strikes twice in a row
Generations, generations
First they fight and then they forget
What they were fighting about in the first place
Here it comes, the big explosion
Havent I seen that once before
Or is it just some deja vu
Just some long forgotten dream
Just some silly memory
History does not repeat, it never, never does
(repeat chorus)
(bridge)
I should know
Ive been hit three times (or was it four? )
Im a walking testimony
Come here, look at these holes
Im a walking testimony
Just look at these holes, look at these holes!
Generations, generations
Fathers never teach their sons
And grandpa never talked to them and so on
Memories are inconvenient
When theres lessons to be learned
That just might rock the boat too much
Cause anxiety and such
We cannot walk without our crutches
We cannot walk, we cannot walk, we never, never could
(repeat chorus and bridge)
Hey, whats all the fuss about?
Hey, whats all the fuss about?
Hey, whats all the fuss about?
Hey, whats all the fuss about?
They say lightning, they say lightning
Lightning never strikes twice in a row
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Haunted By My Own
Haunted by my own.
Haunted by a bloodline...
My ancestors have sewn.
And I confess...
My obsession to do my best!
This wont leave me alone.
I feel I am here,
To make their voices known.
I can not neglect a moment of respect.
To be perceived as a disrespect.
I must protect and protest indignities!
Haunted by my own.
Haunted by a bloodline...
My ancestors have sewn.
And I confess...
The challenge to please them,
Leaves me restless to achieve.
To heights of a success...
That will have all believe I have succeeded.
And my ancestors can attest,
I have done them well!
Although my haunting will continue,
Since they and I are not quite through...
To convince with proof what I am here to do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bad Karma
now on your great fall
i shall look at you from here
at the top of my own
clean castle,
and you shall shout my name
curse my birth
and my ancestors
but how can you make me angry?
not anymore
you get what you deserve
in your own version of hell
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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What is loss?
I resent
What loss represents
I resent
What great loss presents
So what’s the fuss about loss?
Waiting!
Debating!
Contemplating!
What is loss?
Something you care about
Taken away from you by force
Creating total unforgivable chaos
Thinking!
Blinking!
Seeking!
What is loss
It is a minus instead of a plus
Hence the unmistakable fuss
Death and sickness build up great grief
Loss brings despair instead of relief
And in loss itself I have no belief
I resent
What loss represents
I resent
What great loss presents
Loss! An inequitable cause
Thrown on you without a toss
So you become very cross
Because in your life you realize, you are never the only boss!
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Foresight could make wise men of Durraman's donkeys.
Spies Like Us
Ooh ooh what do you do
No one else can dance like you
So whats all the fuss
There aint nobody that spies like us
Hey hey what do you say
Someone took your plans away
So whats all the fuss
There aint nobody that spies like us
Hey dont feel afraid
Of an undercover aid
Theres no need to fuss
There aint nobody that spies like us
Spies like us
We dont know the meaning of fear
We play every minute by ear
One for all and all for one
Everybodys on the run
Especially at this time of year
Ooh ooh what do you do
No one else can dance like you
So whats all the fuss
There aint nobody got spies like us
Hey hey what do you say
No one else can look that way
So whats all the fuss
There aint nobody got spies like us
We get there by hook or by crook
We dont do a thing by the book
Never needed special clothes
How we did it no one knows
I guess we must have had what it took
Ooh ooh, ooh
Oh when things get tough
(oh when things get tough)
Guys like us act rough
(guys like us act rough)
Hey hey what do you say
Someone took your plans away
So whats all the fuss
There aint nobody that spies like us
Spies like us
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Father's Son
I am my father's son.
And proud am I to be!
I am his namesake.
And it is up to me...
To ensure my journey,
Reflects what to me this means.
And I owe it to him and my ancestors...
To rise above any obstacles I see.
I am my father's son.
And proud am I to be!
I will do my best always.
And face those tests with dignity.
What I am given to receive...
I accept with a will to make him,
And those of my ancestors pleased!
I am my father's son!
And I want this known to everyone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Election set a trend
Despite dismal performances,
The mule has been reelected
By the mixed population
Of horses and mules in the stable.
The whole mules voted for the mule.
The opponent horse lost the race.
The horses divided themselves
And voted on ideology.
The victory of the mule is
Due more to the racial backing
Than to the performance reckoning,
An ugly trend set for the first time.
08.11.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Sorry
Into each life there comes a time
When you must pay your lovers dues
Breakin out in a cold sweat
Cause youve been rightfully accused
Im not such a strong man
That love cant make me weak
Youre walkin out the door
And its hurting me so deep, so deep
And Im sorry
Sorry that I made you cry
Sorry, sorry that I told you lies
Im sorry, sorry the way we fuss and fight
Im sorry, sorry cause now youre
Saying goodbye to me
Every young boy will grow up
To then become a man
Then the difference from wrong and right
He clearly understands
Im not such a big man
That I cant break down in tears
Cause my whole body went into shock
When you told me you were out of here! out of here!
And Im sorry
Sorry that I made you cry
Sorry, sorry that I told you lies
Im sorry, sorry the way we fuss and fight
Im sorry, sorry cause now youre saying
Goodbye to me, to me
Im sorry baby, that I ever did it to you
Im sorry baby, that I ever made you cry
Im sorry baby, that I ever did it to you
Im sorry baby, that I ever told you lies
Im sorry baby, that I ever did it to you
Im sorry baby, sorry the way we fuss and fight
Im sorry baby, that I ever did it to you
Im sorry baby, so sorry
If you added up all the good times
And compared them with the bad
Youd realize that our love
Was the best you ever had
Im not such a proud man
That I wont cop a plea
See me baby girl, Im on my knees
Beggin please, baby please, baby please, oh yeah
Im sorry, sorry that I made you cry
Sorry, sorry that I told you lies
Im sorry, Im sorry the way we fuss and fight
Im sorry, sorry cause now youre
Saying goodbye to me, me baby, me baby, me baby
Im sorry baby, that I ever did it to you
Im sorry baby, that I ever told you lies
Im sorry baby, that I ever did it to you
Im sorry baby, that I ever made you cry
Im sorry baby, that I ever did it to you
Im sorry baby, sorry the way we fuss and fight
Im sorry, Im sorry, Im sorry, sorry, sorry,
Sorry, sorry (repeat)
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Camels And Donkeys
Camels have played their parts in the desert banks,
For the human traffic had been moblised with the help of the camels;
And of many years gone by on the desert rods to transport itwms,
With casting shadows on thier various tracks as they move along.
Now or never,
Mankind had made used of the camels for long!
And like a camel ride at the tourist centres in Egypt,
So be my guest on the desert zones of Africa! !
I have never seen anything like this before,
But with their fellow mates as the donkeys to help them along at times;
For the monkeys at your homes are always ready to play!
Camels and donkeys,
Used from old and to the present time;
And like a picturesque speech to evaluate yourself,
But long in a queue from sunrise to sunset as they move along with heavy loads! !
Camels and donkeys,
Feed them enough and they will do their works;
For the load carriers have nothing to say,
And they are the best animals around to help transport heavy loads along the desert routes.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Sonnet: On Greatness
Greatness is not a thing, much like an art;
Some man turns great if on it he stumbles;
His greatness ceases, if he thinks, he's great;
Great is he truly who tho' great, humbles.
Greatness is not true greatness, self-proclaimed;
Greatness is not what world showers on us;
Greatness is neither got by being claimed.
Greatness is not achieved by making fuss.
Greatness could come if world decides to give;
Greatness will stay if God blesses our work;
Such greatness, God-destined comes while men live;
Greatness can grow even without much luck.
Greatness doesn't come to everyone on earth;
Some men are made great; some are great by birth.
poem by John Celes
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Twinkling In the Heavens
These days I find it exceedingly easy,
To praise you.
My ancestors.
You who have come before,
To lay down a smoother path
Through those doors you have opened,
I am grateful.
My obstacles are not as great,
As yours have been.
And this is the driving force I keep within.
These days I find it exceedingly easy,
To praise you.
My ancestors.
Twinkling in the heavens.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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