Once you pour the water out of the bucket it's hard to get it back in it.
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Bucket T
Bucket bucket t t, bucket t bucket t,
Bucket bucket t t, bucket t bucket t,
Bucket bucket t t, bucket t bucket t,
Found her in a barn in tennessee
I paid five bucks for my bucket t
Took me three years of sweat and blood
To clean off all that tennessee mud
Chorus:
My bucket t (bucket t)
Bucket t (bucket t)
My bucket t (bucket t)
My bucket t (bucket t)
T t t... bucket bucket bucket...
Cruise down the street in front of school
I wanna rev it up but I gotta be cool
Drivin down the road Ill get my kicks
Apoppin the clutch and aslippin the sticks
[chorus]
I was right, too, shes first in her class
Theres nothing on the freeway she dont pass
All the girls want to take a ride with me
But theres only one seat in my bucket t
[chorus]
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Bucket Of Water
One bucket of water
Razed the city to ashes.
One bucket of water
Could not quench the fire
Blazing from the town's
Central pump.
One bucket of water
A man held, jumped the
Queue to the pump.
One bucket of water
At the pump, about to
Collect water, resisted.
They stared each other
In the eye. Their tribal
Marks were different.
They threw caution to
The winds. Including
All buckets on the line.
Everyone queued behind
Their tribal marks. And
The city burnt through its
Length and breath. Death
Sprung out of life. And life
Spilled out of the bucket.
poem by Adeoye Adetoba
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bucket Kicker
What rhymes with bucket?
'That depends.
Is the bucket empty?
And
Is there anyone kicking it? '
Let's say the bucket is full.
And it is being carried?
'In a Porshe?
Or a Mercedes? '
You know
Sometimes I wonder why,
I bother to ask you anything!
'Oh
So 'you're' the kicker?
That should be obvious.'
Why is it obvious now?
'Well,
If a bucket is struck by a kicker out of luck
And that bucket is not picked up,
That bucket struck aint worth
What's being dumped into it from an outhouse.'
What's an outhouse have to do with it?
'That's for you to figure out
That bucket I'm going to carry
Is going to be in the trunk of my limousine.'
Thank you.
But that doesn't rhyme with bucket
'My plucked duckets
In the trunk of a limo
Sitting filled to the brim
In my golden bucket
And your hands aint around
Or near enough to touch it
Uh, I don't know about you
But that sounds very poetic to me
And you can fuss and cuss,
While kicking your bucket all you want
Thank you for your inspiration.'
No problem.
I just know from now on
Not to ask you anything
'I'm cool with that
Bucket kicker.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bucket of Water
carrying a bucket of water
up a hill... careful not to spill.
whose life will i come
in contact with today?
and what kind of impact
will i make?
do i do enough?
or am i deluding myself?
do i really care?
or am i just going
through the motions?
when someone talks,
do i listen?
when i listen,
do i really hear?
when someone is hurting,
do i feel it?
or am i so hardened
and calloused from the battles,
that i dont really feel
much of anything?
when someone else needs,
do i take the time to really
be there?
or am i so blind
that i just walk by?
when this day is over,
will i really have lived
every moment?
hard questions you ask yourself...
carrying a bucket of water
up a hill...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A minnow, trench and a widow
I found a guppy struggles to swim in that lack of water ditch
And I borrowed a bucket of water from the near by watering widow.
Then I poured the whole into the ditch.
Oh! The minnow swims happily I watched
And I too felt happy after a long time.
I returned the bucket and said; 'Thank you very much Madam.'
I sniffed and measured her roomy smile
Really it's deeper than the trench.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Washing Windows
Your mother used to sit on the window
Ledge of the tenement building and
Wash the windows of each of the rooms.
She’d push back the shutters and just
Sit there with a bucket of warm water
And a cloth and wash away. You were
Always afraid she’d lean too far back
And fall out and down to the ground
Several storeys below with a heavy crash
And break bones or neck or maybe die.
But she’d just sit there her legs holding
Onto the wall beneath her and push her
Right hand holding the damp cloth
Over the glass while her left hand held
The metal bucket tight swishing the warm
Water as she moved back and forth like
Some lone trapeze artist on the high wire
Without apparent fear or knowledge of
Was going on in the street below with the
Passing of the walking dead as Father used
To say and Mrs Febrile sitting on her window
Ledge with her daughter watching gossiping
And nosing about who did what to whom
While all the while you were frightened of
Your mother slipping out the window waving
Her hands and arms as she fell to her doom.
poem by Terry Collett
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A Humble Bucket
There have been some great inventions
and some are not noted for their worth.
Take a humble bucket and all the uses
of it that can be employed.
It can carry water
when you’re thirty for a drink
or when you want a wash.
It can carry clothes
and most objects you can name.
You can put a bag in it
and use it as a waste paper bin
and it can be used as an overnight latrine
in case you are caught out
in the middle of the night.
A humble bucket
is one of the most versatile inventions ever made.
Australia’s most famous bushranger Ned Kelly
used a metal one to cover his head and hide his identity.
The list of uses go on and on,
so the next time you see a humble bucket
raise a glass to him
for all the work he has done for us.
18 September 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Back On The Train
When I jumped off, I had a bucket full of thoughts
When I first jumped off, I held that bucket in my hand
Ideas that would take me all around the world
I stood and watched the smoke behind the mountain curl
It took me a long time to get back on the train
Now I'm gone and I'll never look back again
I'm gone and I'll never look back at all
You know I'll never look back again
I turn my face into the howlin' wind
It took me a long time to get back on the train
See my face in the town that's flashing by
See me standing at the station in the rain
See me standing there beside the car
I left it all behind, again I'll travel far
It took me a long time to get back on the train
When I jumped off, I had a bucket full of thoughts
When I first jumped off, I held that bucket in my hand
Ideas that would take me all around the world
I stood and watched the smoke behind the mountains curl
It took me a long time to get back on the train
It took me a long time to get back on the train
It took me a long time to get back on the train
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Seashells in the Bucket
Vs.1 Walkin' at the beach, I
Thought I saw a bird fly,
Decided to follow it down a ways.
Then it flew away, and
I tripped and fell in the sand,
That's when I realized what all I did today.
(chorus)
I put seashells in the bucket,
And I waded in the water,
Didn't think it could get much hotter,
But, boy, was I wrong.
I went to eat some lunch,
And I made a castle out of sand,
Some little kid just stepped on my hand,
But the day's still goin' on,
So I sat down 'n' started writin' this song.
Vs.2 That's when it started to rain,
I knew that I would stay
Outside in it 'cause it felt good to me.
Then, the sun came back out,
And I started to pout,
But I had done a lot this week.
(chorus) x 2
Yes, they're still in the bucket,
And I'm done with this song!
poem by Rebecca Ryan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Possibilities of Ice
One day at school
I decided to put a pool
Of ice water over Mrs. Stuart's desk
When she sat down in the chair
The bucket turned in the air
And boy I swear what a mess
She stood up to shout
The person responsible will be out
Of school for a couple of days
It was funny to see
The stunned looks of glee
But not as funny as that teacher's face
Although I got out
Because of that teacher's shout
Mr. Owen said to me
Nice work young one
But the trouble's only begun
Because when you come back there'll be
Mrs. Stuart with a bucket of ice
And a room full of unsanitary mice
So Mrs. Stuart
I'm as sorry as I could possibly be
But you should have sen the look on your face
The day that you yelled at me.
poem by Mystykka Mysterious
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When the rain pour........
When the dark clouds cover the sky
When the storm roll on the sky
When the thunder roars in the sky
Let the rain pour from the heaven
When the flora blossom in the mountains
When the fauna dance in the jungles
When the valleys flows with rush water
Let the rain pour from the heaven
When the earth get wet with water
When the farmers smile for happiness
When the country flourish with food
Let the rain pour from the heaven
poem by Ravi Sathasivam
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Big Red
Have you heard about big red?
They even bought a beebread rig
To help the flowers in mean space
Theyre trying to make that place green
Hope the trees will take away the storm [2x]
Dont know how this whole thing started
There was a crowd and then we parted
Dont know if Ill ever go back
Its a long way across all of this black
Here I am in my bucket today
In the middle
Here I am in my bucket today
In the middle
They got a mule they call sal
Bulldozing up canal walls
Theyre gonna tap that icecap too
When they do theyre gonna make that green map blue
The weather is finally getting warm
And the weather is really getting warm
Dont know how this whole thing started
There was a cloud and then it parted
Dont know if Ill ever go back
Thats how I felt when I left that tarmac
Here I am in my bucket today
In the middle
Here I am in my bucket today
In the middle
song performed by by Frank Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Im Only Happy When It Rains
Im only happy when it rains
Im only happy when its complicated
And though I know you cant appreciate it
Im only happy when it rains
You know I love it when the news is bad
And why it feels so good to feel so sad
Im only happy when it rains
Pour your misery down, pour your misery down on me
Pour your misery down, pour your misery down on me
Im only happy when it rains
I feel good when things are going wrong
I only listen to the sad, sad songs
Im only happy when it rains
I only smile in the dark
My only comfort is the night gone black
I didnt accidentally tell you that
Im only happy when it rains
Youll get the message by the time Im through
When I complain about me and you
Im only happy when it rains
Pour your misery down, pour your misery down
Pour your misery down on me pour your misery down
Pour your misery down pour your misery down
Pour your misery down on me pour your misery down
Pour your misery down pour your misery down
Pour your misery down on me pour your misery down
Pour your misery down
You can keep me company
As long as you dont care
Im only happy when it rains
You wanna hear about my new obsession?
Im riding high upon a deep depression
Im only happy when it rains
Pour some misery down on me
Im only happy when it rains
Pour some misery down on me
Im only happy when it rains
Pour some misery down on me
Im only happy when it rains
Pour some misery down on me
Im only happy when it rains
Pour some misery down on me ...
song performed by by Garbage
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flood Water Moves Along
Overflow of water down the street
Flooding the earth down below
The road cannot carry any more
It’s now far above my knees
Splash, the dogs play within
Causing horrible ripples around
Gathering a bucket full of water
The weight is over the limit
Crash, the pail falls back to the stream
Leaving the trail of dirt
To go swiftly past the dog
Unwanted is the river moving
Placing burden on people
Who collectively want it dry
Forever it seems it’ll flood
And tiring is the gathering
Transporting of the dirty water
Sighing the crowd gives up
Allowing the water push
Deep within their homes
In heartache and dying pain
poem by Russell Sivey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fetching Water
Come on now; let’s go fetch some water
grab a pail in each hand and let’s go.
Down the hill, to the pond in the holler,
then we’ll climb back up the hill with that water!
Everyone today has forgotten
what it’s like to haul water in a pail.
Every house must have a Jacuzzi,
and a big swimming pool, as well.
Come on now; let’s go fetch some water
grab a pail in each hand and let’s go.
Down the hill, to the pond in the holler,
then we’ll climb back up the hill with that water!
And our homes must have a green lawn
to keep it looking really good!
The water we waste on that green grass
could be used by the farmer to grow food.
Come on now; let’s go fetch some water
grab a pail in each hand and let’s go.
Down the hill, to the pond in the holler,
then we’ll climb back up the hill with that water!
Don’t waste all of that precious water.
We have worked too hard to bring it here.
We can’t live without that precious water
let’s be thankful that it is so near.
Come on now; let’s go fetch some water
grab a pail in each hand and let’s go.
Down the hill, to the pond in the holler,
then we’ll climb back up the hill with that water!
Don’t be taking the water from the farmer
without it his crops will never grow.
All of life depends upon the water
Don’t take it for granted anymore.
Come on now; let’s go fetch some water
grab a pail in each hand and let’s go.
Down the hill, to the pond in the holler,
then we’ll climb back up the hill with that water!
poem by Emma Beverage
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don't throw away the old bucket until you know whether the new one holds water.
Late Meditation
Night again, and I'm not impressed:
the blurred cedar, blowzy in her black dress,
the bat's manic acrobatics -- he tries too hard --
the hooligan raccoon routing in the brush,
and above all this the familiar, gaudy
glitter of the stars. Once I felt invited
to praise these things. Once I felt obliged.
Inviolable night, I said. Love's rustling curtain.
My hornbook, my slow ship to stow away on.
It took a long time to discover night
is a slate one writes on with the chalk
of desire. Look. The moon is thin as a dime.
It goes, and the sun comes up shrunken, low,
something to poke with a broom
and plunk, hissing, into a water bucket.
What I said, I'd like to take it back.
poem by Chris Forhan
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The Action Of Pumping!
pumping the handle
of the old spicket,
bucket in hand...
i am the handle,
the water, and the spicket...
and two feet who,
without a name or regret,
silently do their job,
walking back up the hill!
all generated by the
action of pumping!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Only Happy Whem It Rains
Im only happy when it rains
Im only happy when its complicated
And though I know you cant appreciate it Im only happy when it rains
You know I love it when the news is bad
And why it feels so good to feel so sad
Im only happy when it rains
Pour your misery down...pour your misery down on me pour your misery down...pour your misery down on me
Im only happy when it rains
I feel good when things are going wrong
I only listen to the sad sad songs
Im only happy when it rains
I only smile in the dark
My only comfort is the night gone black
I didnt accidentally tell you that
Im only happy when it rains
Youll get the message by the time Im through when I complain about me and you
Im only happy when it rains
Pour your misery down...pour your misery down on me pour your misery down...pour your misery down on me pour your misery down...pour your misery down on me pour your misery down
You can keep me company as long as you dont care
Im only happy when it rains
You wanna hear about my new obsession
Im riding high upon a deep depression
Im only happy when it rains
Pour some misery down on me
song performed by by Garbage
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One good word quenches more heat than a bucket of water.