My job 'cock-a-doodle-doo'; from then on, it may not dawn.
Related quotes
My job is to scream, 'cock-a-doodle-doo'; from then on, it may not dawn.
Another Yankee Doodle
Yankee Doodle had a mind
To whip the Southern traitors,
Because they didn't choose to live
On codfish and potatoes,
Yankee Doodle, doodle-doo,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
And to keep his courage up
He took a drink of brandy.
Yankee Doodle said he found
By all the census figures,
That he could starve the rebels out,
If he could steal their niggers.
Yankee Doodle, doodle-doo,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
And then he took another drink
Of gunpowder and brandy.
Yankee Doodle made a speech;
'Twas very full of feeling;
'I fear,' he says, 'I cannot fight,
But I am good at stealing.'
Yankee Doodle, doodle-doo,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
Hurrah for Lincoln, he's the boy
To take a drop of brandy.
Yankee Doodle drew his sword,
And practiced all the passes;
Come, boys, we'll take another drink
When we get to Manassas.
Yankee Doodle, doodle-doo,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
They never reached Manassas plain,
And never got the brandy.
Yankee Doodle soon found out
That Bull Run was no trifle;
For if the North knew how to steal,
The South knew how to rifle.
Yankee Doodle, doodle-doo,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
'Tis very clear I took too much
Of that infernal brandy.
Yankee Doodle wheeled about,
And scampered off at full run,
And such a race was never seen
As that he made at Bull Run.
Yankee Doodle, doodle-doo,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
I haven't time to stop right now
To take a drop of brandy.
Yankee Doodle, oh! for shame,
You're always intermeddling;
Let guns alone, they're dangerous things;
You'd better stick to peddling.
Yankee Doodle, doodle-doo,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
When next I go to Bully Run
I'll throw away the brandy.
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cock-a-doodle-do
Cock-a-doodle-do
Sings the cock in the morning
To wake up people!
poem by Asif Andalib
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Ratcatcher's Daughter
Not long ago, in Vestminstier,
There liv'd a ratcatcher's daughter, -
But she didn't quite live in Vestminstier,
'Cause she liv'd t'other side of the vater; -
Her father caught rats, and she sold sprats,
All round and about that quarter;
And the gentlefolks all took off their hats,
To the putty little ratcatcher's daughter.
Doodle dee! doodle dum! di dum doodle da!
She vore no 'at upon her 'ead,
No cap nor dandy bonnet,
The 'air of 'er 'ead all 'ung down her back,
Like a bunch of carrots upon it;
Ven she cried 'Sprats!' in Vestminstier,
She 'ad such a sweet loud woice, sir,
You could hear her all down Parliament Street,
As far as Charing Cross, sir.
Doodle dee! doodle dum! di dum doodle da!
Now, rich and poor, both far and near,
In matrimony sought her;
But at friends and foes she turn'd up her nose,
Did the putty little ratcatcher's daughter.
For there was a man, sold lily-vite sand,
In Cupid's net had caught her;
And right over head and ears in love
Vent the putty little ratcatcher's daughter!
Doodle dee! doodle dum! di dum doodle da!
Now lily-vite sand so ran in'er 'ead,
As she vent along the Strand, oh!
She forgot as she'd got sprats on her 'ead,
And cried, 'D'ye vant any lily-vite sand, oh,'
The folks, amaz'd, all thought her craz'd,
As she vent along the Strand, oh!
To see a gal vith sprats on 'er 'ead
Cry, 'D'ye vant any lily-vite sand, oh!'
Doodle dee! doodle dum! di dum doodle da!
Now ratcatcher's daughter so ran in his 'ead,
He couldn't tell vat he was arter,
So, instead of crying 'D'ye vant any sand?'
He cried, 'D'ye vant any ratcatcher's darter?'
His donkey cock'd his ears and laughed,
And couldn't think vat 'e was arter,
Ven he heard his lily-vite sandman cry,
'D'ye vant any ratcatcher's darter?'
Doodle dee! doodle dum! di dum doodle da!
They both agreed to married be
Upon next Easter Sunday,
But Ratcatcher's daughter she had a dream
That she wouldn't be alive on Monday;
She vent vunce more to buy some sprats,
And she tumbled into the vater,
And down to the bottom, all kiver'd up with mud,
Vent the putty little ratcatcher's daughter!
Doodle dee! doodle dum! di dum doodle da!
Ven Lily-vite Sand 'e 'eard the news,
His eyes ran down with vater,
Said 'e, 'In love I'll constiant prove;
And - blow me if I'll live long arter.'
So he cut 'is throat vith a pane of glass,
And stabb'd 'is donkey arter!
So 'ere is an end of Lily-vite Sand,
Donkey, and the ratcatcher's daughter.
Doodle dee! doodle dum! di dum doodle da!
The neighbours all, both great and small,
They flocked unto 'er berrein',
And vept that a gal who'd cried out sprats,
Sould be dead as any herrein'.
The Corioner's Inquest on her sot,
At the sign of the Jack i' the Vater,
To find vat made life's sand run out
Of the putty little ratcatcher's daughter!
Doodle dee! doodle dum! di dum doodle da!
The verdict vas that too much vet
This poor young voman died on;
For she made an ole in the Riviere Thames,
Vot the penny steamers ride on!
'Twas a haccident they all agreed,
And nuffink like self-slaughter;
So not guiltee o' fell in the sea,
They brought in the ratcatcher's daughter!
*Doodle dee! doodle dum! di dum doodle da!
*Well, ladies and gentlemen, - arter the two bodies was resusticated - they buried them both in one seminary - and the epigram which they writ upon the tombstone went as follows - Doodle dee! doodle dum! di dum doodle da!
poem by E. Bradley
Submitted by anonym
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Cooped and Booted
Those slayed by capers and duped!
Finger pop and bop.
Raked and scraped up to be dropped.
Hip hop.
Hip hop.
And pooped by a looping that scoops.
Easily snooped,
As they holler with a hooping hoot,
Cooped.
Those slayed by capers and duped!
Finger pop and bop.
Raked and scraped up to be dropped.
Hip hop.
Hip hop.
And pooped by a looping that scoops.
Easily snooped,
As they holler with a hooping hoot,
Cooped.
Those...
Slayed by capers and duped!
Finger pop and bop.
Raked and scraped up to be dropped.
Sing,
Cockadoodle doodle doodle doo.
While cooped and booted.
Cockadoodle doodle doodle doo.
Cooped! .
Cockadoodle doodle doodle doo.
And booted.
Cockadoodle doodle doodle doo.
Those slayed by capers and duped!
Like roosters trained,
To boost the hens...
To,
Cockadoodle doodle doodle doo.
Those slayed by capers and duped!
Like roosters trained,
To boost the hens...
To,
Cockadoodle doodle doodle doo.
And booted.
Cockadoodle doodle doodle doo.
Cooped!
Cockadoodle doodle doodle doo.
And booted.
Cockadoodle doodle doodle doo.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Doodle Traced
I can do a doodle traced.
And be careful not to waste space.
Showing somewhat of an artistic origin.
To maintain a flow most would call talent.
With an assurance any doodle done I do,
Does that.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Doodlin
(h. silver/j. hendricks)
Usin? the phone booth/makin? a few calls
Doodlin? weird things/usin? the booth walls (yeah!)
Got me a big date/waitin? for my chap
A-puttin? his fine on/so he can look dap
I enjoy procrastinatin? cause Im busy while Im waitin?
Doodlin? away/yeah!
Sittin? and dinin? dinner beginin?
Started refinin? usin the linen
Talkin to my man/doodlin? my bit
Waiter got salty/told me to please quit
Told the waiter, dont be dizzy/cause you see Im very busy
Doodlin? away? oh yeah!
Those weird designs
They only show whats goin? on in weirdy minds
cause when you doodle then your noodles flyin? high
Everything rushes by might just be a thought
That you caught while coppin? a wink
Doodlin? takes you beyond what you think
And then you draw what you think, yeah!
Later the waiter/had me arrested
Took me to belleview/where I was tested
Had me a doctor/bought him a noodle
Boy he was handsome/taught him to doodle
Showed him hidden thoughts that linger/find an outlet through your
Finger
Doodle away!/oh yeah yeah!
Doctor was real nice/told me to be cool
Looked at the waiter/called him a real fool (yes he did)
Looked at my baby/told him to feel free
Got him to doodlin? so he could bug me
When he put his arms around me/quite to his surprise he found me
Doodlin? away/yeah
Oh lets doodle baby yeah
A-doodle to the left now
Doodle a little to the right yeah
Alright, doodle to the right, left, right, left
Doodle away! doodlin? takes you beyond what you think...
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Doodles
When your mind is full of concentration,
but your hand maybe busy too,
drawing something
on the edge of the page,
because doodling is what you do.
Many people doodle,
with numbers, characters and swirls.
It does not matter,
what kind of doodle that you do.
This little poem was written,
for doodlers, and only just for you.
10 June 2006
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Song at Cock-Crow
1918 -- Ille autem iterum negavit.
The first time that Peter denied his Lord
He shrank from the cudgel, the scourge and the cord,
But followed far off to see what they would do,
Till the cock crew--till the cock crew--
After Gethsemane, till the cock crew!
The first time that Peter denied his Lord
'Twas only a maid in the palace who heard,
As he sat by the fire and warmed himself through.
Then the cock crew! Then the cock crew!
("Though also art one of them.") Then the cock crew!
The first time that Peter denied his Lord
He had neither the Throne, nor the Keys nor the Sword--
A poor silly fisherman, what could he do,
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
But weep for his wickedness when the cock crew?
. . . . . .
The next time that Peter denied his Lord
He was Fisher of Men, as foretold by the Word,
With the Crown on his brow and the Cross on his shoe,
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
In Flanders and Picardy when the cock crew!
The next time that Peter denied his Lord
'Twas Mary the Mother in Heaven Who heard,
She grieved for the maidens and wives that they slew
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
At Tirmonde and Aerschott when the cock crew!
The next time that Peter denied his Lord
The Babe in the Manger awakened and stirred,
And He stretched out His arms for the playmates
He knew--
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
But the waters had covered them when the cock crew!
The next time that Peter denied his Lord
'Twas Earth in her agony waited his word,
But he sat by the fire and naught would he do,
Though the cock crew--though the cock crew--
Over all Christendom, though the cock crew!
The last time that Peter denied his Lord,
The Father took from him the Keys and the Sword,
And the Mother and Babe brake his Kingdom in two,
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
(Because of his wickedness) when the cock crew!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Yankee Doodle Never Went To Town
Arthur freed / bernie hanighan
Yankee doodle never went to town
I just discovered the story was phony
Let me give you all the real low-down
He didnt even own a pony
He was really very short and fat
While in the story so skinny and moany
And so hungry that he ate his hat
And called the felt macaroni
Underneath the chestnut tree
He and the blacksmith would sip that tea
Then hed bring out his uniform down
Thats how he went to town
Yankee doodle tried to leave one day
Took his belongings and mounted his saddle
But he never got it on his way
Cause he didnt have a pony
And the fairy tale is phony
How could yankee doodle go to town?
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poor Man
The hen has no breasts; poor cock.
The hen has no lips; poor cock.
The hen has no hair; poor cock.
The cock can rape hen; poor man.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Couple Of Chicken Religious Meal
The couple of chicken religious meal
On the ruwatan of my mother
Offering to me
8. Couple Of Chicken Religious Meal
I left the hen one at my grandma house
and bring the cock going home
after arrive at home
that cock
I bring everywhere
aver meet the another one
keep fighting with my cock and win
sometime meet with the cockfighter
neighbour, who have gerobak repair house
where they iron for
and teakwood for
in the center field
they fight my cock and theirs
the winner is always my cock
Their face look very regretful
And they offering to bought my cock
I avoid
And tomorrow eveing, when I went home from school
I found my cock foot
He stay and asleep in my house corner
My cockfoot had injury was harpooned
I care with garlic, not yet recover
I care with peniciclin, not
a week after that cock dead
I cry for the whole day
I don’t understand adult will won theirself
they dont understand, that is not just a cock
But a cock for religious meal in the ruwatan of my mother
My grandma gift
poem by Prasetya Utama
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Prequel..cock Robin.
PREQUEL..COCK ROBIN.
THE DAWN MIST HANGS LOW THROUGHOUT THE VALLEY
CREATING THE SHROUD WHICH ALLOWS TIMID CREATURES TO VENTURE OUT
IN THE DISTANCE, THE WOOP OF A DOVE, RAT-TAT-TAT OF WOODPECKER RINGS OUT
SOON ALL LIFE TAKES THEIR PLACE, MAN AND ALL.
WOODCUTTER SAM COPPICES IN A SUSTAINABLE WAY
AS SOON AS HE IS GONE THE ANTS AND WOODLICE ARRIVE TO CART THE CHIPS AWAY
LIFE CAN BE SWEET HERE, HARMONY ENDURES
THE SQUIRREL AND THE JAY ARE ONE..THESE ARE MINE..THOSE ARE YOURS
BUT THERE'S SOMETHING MISSING, ROUTINE HAS FINALLY RELEASED THEIR MINDS
WHERE IS COCK ROBIN'S CHIRPING OF THE TWITTERING KIND?
HE MUST BE IN THE SOUTH OF THE VALLEY, SAY'S JOHN CROW
OH NO, THIS ISN'T THE DAY HE'D GO
SOON THE WORD HAD GONE OUT, COCK ROBIN HAS NOT BEEN SEEN
HE'LL RETURN BEFORE LONG AND TELL US WHERE HE'S BEEN
THE HOURS WEAR ON, THE RUMOURS ABOUND, ALL ARE LISTENING FOR THAT CHIPPY-CHIRPY SOUND
IN THE FOLLOWING DAYS WITH NO MORNING ACLAIM FROM COCK ROBIN
THE TEARS SHED ARE HIDDEN IN THE MISTY WETNESS OF THE MORNING.
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
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Eleventh Avenue Racket
There is something terrible
about a hurdy-gurdy,
a gipsy man and woman,
and a monkey in red flannel
all stopping in front of a big house
with a sign “For Rent” on the door
and the blinds hanging loose
and nobody home.
I never saw this.
I hope to God I never will.
Whoop-de-doodle-de-doo.
Hoodle-de -harr-de-hum.
Nobody home? Everybody home.
Whoop-de-doodle-de-doo.
Mamie Riley married Jimmy Higgins last night: Eddie Jones died of whooping cough: George Hacks got a job on the police force: the Rosenheims bought a brass bed: Lena Hart giggled at a jackie: a pushcart man called tomaytoes, tomaytoes.
Whoop-de-doodle-de-doo.
Hoodle-d e-harr-de-hum.
Nobody home? Everybody home.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Cock Up Your Beaver
When first my brave Johnie lad came to this town,
He had a blue bonnet that wanted the crown;
But now he has gotten a hat and a feather,
Hey, brave Johnie lad, cock up your beaver!
Cock up your beaver, and cock it fu' sprush,
We'll over the border, and gie them a brush;
There's somebody there we'll teach better behaviour,
Hey, brave Johnie lad, cock up your beaver!
poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The hen knows that dawn has arrived but it leaves the duty of crowing to the cock.
Time
I am time who knows
Who knows but
I am what I am
The shadows are thin
The nights have veiled in
Like a turkey cock
Like a doodle I am doodling
In your
Life there is lack of timing
I have wits, what a razor sharp wit
Monolithic culture have been flowering
I remained runners up and all encompassing
Circumnavigating you became a laughing stock
Stunning to see my caliber like a rock
Whatever will you do?
I have least inclination
I am jaunty
You are skinny
Who will eat the booty?
Time is moving scandalously
A world full of bankruptcy
How and why I glamorize it all
Is least potent and more finicky
I am the dowry for the women
And evangelist moving slyly
poem by Hafiz Qasim
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Defenselessness
Doop
Doodoo doo doo doo
Doop doodum doodum doo doo doo.
Doo doodum...
Doo doo doo doo doodle.
Doop
Doodoo doo doo doo
Doop doodum doodum doo doo doo.
Doo doodum...
Doo doo doo doo doodle.
Yep,
That's it!
My baby...
Amazes me.
She's there...
Whenever I may be,
In between.
She's there...
And my baby is everything!
My baby...
Kisses me,
And I,
Get 'hungryness'
For her kiss!
And I know...
What defenselessness can mean!
Doop
Doodoo doo doo doo
Doop doodum doodum doo doo doo.
Doo doodum...
Doo doo doo doo doodle.
Yeah...
Doop
Doodoo doo doo doo
Doop doodum doodum doo doo doo.
Doo doodum...
Doo doo doo doo doodle.
My baby...
Kisses me
And I,
Get 'hungryness'
For her kiss!
And I know...
What defenselessness can mean!
Yes, I know...
What defenselessness can mean!
Who better shows...
That defenselessness in me!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Natures Metropolitan Zone Is Alive
Nature's metropolitan zone is alive and a busy day has begun
Warmed by the gentle glow of the early morning sun,
The fast lane opens for the leaders of speed the ant train
The flight of the bumble bee's wings coordinated, follow their flight path again
The very slow underground subways always clogged by the earth worms,
For ever travelling to the rain soaked underground wonderfully lit by the glow worms
Working snails begin trimming the edges by eating them at their own pace...slow.
The birds excel with tweeting and chirping, daffodils laughing beginning to grow
Orchestrating the sounds of life on this beautiful day new,
Heralded by the distant cockerels cock a doodle doo,
Now the snake climbs the skyscraper tree to collect his fresh morning egg
As all the animal young open their mouths to mothers for food to beg,
The ballyhoo of thriving life carries on from dawn to dusk
With nightfall setting the rules for the evening meal a must.
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Knowing time in ancient time
‘Get up! be ready! time for prayer.'
Today, clock alarm chants to ears.
When Tessa's grandma was twelve years old,
her grandma counted age, the springs rolled.
Heavenly bodies sun, moon and stars
used to tell time to her forefathers.
When planets will set and when will rise
naturally guessed time they were so wise.
Day divided, morning, noon, evening
dusk, mid-night, dawn; the nights.
Shadows displayed; noon, fore or after
stick stuck in ground evolved sundial.
Doodle-doo said dawn is going to break
chirping birds yelled get up from the bed.
(C) S. D. Tiwari
poem by S.D. Tiwari
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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