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Cripple Creek
1: well I married a wife in the month of june,
Married her up by the light of the moon.
We live down on cripple creek.
Weve been there about a week.
Chorus: Im a-goin down to cripple creek, Im goin on a run.
Goin down to cripple creek to have some fun.
Goin down to cripple creek, Im goin on a run.
Goin down to cripple creek to have some fun.
2: now cripple creek girls about half-grown,
Jump on a man like a dog on a bone.
Roll my pants up to my knees,
Cross on cripple creek a-when I please.
Chorus: Im a-goin down to cripple creek, Im goin on a run,
Goin down to cripple creek to have some fun.
Goin down to cripple creek, Im goin on a run.
Goin down to cripple creek to have some fun.
3: well Im goin to cripple creek, Im goin on a run.
Im a-goin to cripple creek to have some fun.
Chorus: Im a-goin to cripple creek, Im goin on a run,
Goin to cripple creek to have some fun.
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mother
Mother are you mad at me
Mother are you scared
That someday you will turn around
And look to find your blue-eyed boy's not there
But mother don't you worry
Mother don't you fret
Cos we've been through so much pain and joy and suffering
For me to forget
The times we had together
Times that were so full (??)
But time's gone by before my eyes
And I realise
Time was often cruel
So mother don't you worry
Mother don't you cry
Cos there'll come a day
When I will take the reins
From your fair hands and wave bye bye
Bye bye
song performed by by Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wonderful Mother
Wonderful Mother
God made a wonderful mother,
A mother who never grows old;
He made her smile of the sunshine,
And He moulded her heart of pure gold;
In her eyes He placed bright shining stars,
In her cheeks fair roses you see;
God made a wonderful mother,
And He gave that dear mother to me.
poem by Morgan Doe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cripple Creek Ferry
Hey, hey cripple creek ferry
Butting through the overhanging trees
Make way for the cripple creek ferry
The waters going down its a mighty tight squeeze.
All alone the captain stands
Hasnt heard from his deck hands.
The gambler tips his hat and walks towards the door.
Its the second half of the cruise.
And you know he hates to lose.
Hey, hey cripple creek ferry
Butting through the overhanging trees
Make way for the cripple creek ferry
The waters going down its a mighty tight squeeze.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mother’s Visit
LONG years ago she visited my chamber,
Steps soft and slow, a taper in her hand;
Her fond kiss she laid upon my eyelids,
Fair as an angel from the unknown land:
Mother, mother, is it thou I see?
Mother, mother, watching over me.
And yesternight I saw her cross my chamber,
Soundless as light, a palm-branch in her hand;
Her mild eyes she bent upon my anguish,
Calm as an angel from the blessed land;
Mother, mother, is it thou I see?
Mother, mother, art thou come for me?
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mother In Law
(a. toussaint)
Mother in law, mother in law
Mother in law, mother in law
The worst person I know
Mother in law, mother in law
She worries me so
Mother in law, mother in law
If she leaves us alone
We could have a happy home
Sent from down below
Mother in law, mother in law
Mother in law, mother in law
Satan should be her name
Mother in law, mother in law
To me theyre about the same
Mother in law, mother in law
Everytime I open my mouth
Steps in trying to put me out
How could you stood so low
Mother in law, mother in law
Mother in law, mother in law
Come home with my pay
Mother in law, mother in law
She asks me what I made
Mother in law, mother in law
She thinks her advice is a contribution
If she would leave that would be the solution
Dont come back no more
Mother in law, mother in law
Mother in law, mother in law....
song performed by by Huey Lewis And The News
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cripples and Other Stories
My doctor, the comedian
I called you every time
and made you laugh yourself
when I wrote this silly rhyme...
Each time I give lectures
or gather in the grants
you send me off to boarding school
in training pants.
God damn it, father-doctor,
I'm really thirty-six.
I see dead rats in the toilet.
I'm one of the lunatics.
Disgusted, mother put me
on the potty. She was good at this.
My father was fat on scotch.
It leaked from every orifice.
Oh the enemas of childhood,
reeking of outhouses and shame!
Yet you rock me in your arms
and whisper my nickname.
Or else you hold my hand
and teach me love too late.
And that's the hand of the arm
they tried to amputate.
Though I was almost seven
I was an awful brat.
I put it in the Easy Wringer.
It came out nice and flat.
I was an instant cripple
from my finger to my shoulder.
The laundress wept and swooned.
My mother had to hold her.
I know I was a cripple.
Of course, I'd known it from the start.
My father took the crowbar
and broke the wringer's heart.
The surgeons shook their heads.
They really didn't know-
Would the cripple inside of me
be a cripple that would show?
My father was a perfect man,
clean and rich and fat.
My mother was a brilliant thing.
She was good at that.
You hold me in your arms.
How strange that you're so tender!
Child-woman that I am,
you think that you can mend her.
As for the arm,
unfortunately it grew.
Though mother said a withered arm
would put me in Who's Who.
For years she has described it.
She sang it like a hymn.
By then she loved the shrunken thing,
my little withered limb.
My father's cells clicked each night,
intent on making money.
And as for my cells, they brooded,
little queens, on honey.
Oh boys too, as a matter of fact,
and cigarettes and cars.
Mother frowned at my wasted life.
My father smoked cigars.
My cheeks blossomed with maggots.
I picked at them like pearls.
I covered them with pancake.
I wound my hair in curls.
My father didn't know me
but you kiss me in my fever.
My mother knew me twice
and then I had to leave her.
But those are just two stories
and I have more to tell
from the outhouse, the greenhouse
where you draw me out of hell.
Father, I am thirty-six,
yet I lie here in your crib.
I'm getting born again, Adam,
as you prod me with your rib.
poem by Anne Sexton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My mom
God made a wonderful mother,
A mother who never grows old;
He made her smile of the sunshine,
And He moulded her heart of pure gold;
In her eyes He placed bright shining stars,
In her cheeks fair roses you see;
God made a wonderful mother,
And He gave that dear mother to me.
poem by Erica German
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wonderful Mother
God made a wonderful mother,
A mother who never grows old;
He made her smile of the sunshine,
And He moulded her heart of pure gold;
In her eyes He placed bright shining stars,
In her cheeks fair roses you see;
God made a wonderful mother,
And He gave that dear mother to me.
Pat O'Reilly
poem by Adriane Coles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mother Mother Mother
How you cared for us. Don't keep away from us.I won't surive without you/ Mother Mother Mother Your eyes show me the way. When I fall on my way. You lend me a hand to carry on. Mother Mother Mother You had a very hard life. But you gave your baby your own bread from your own mouth. When she feels hungry. Mother Mother Mother If I pass though this word. I wouldn't find you anywhere. Your sweet smile makes me happy. Mother Mother Mother My love for you will go on forever. I love you my Mother Mother Mother forever and ever. written 6/23/08 Posted 10/27/08 In the memory of my mother Esther Ferber Klayton
poem by Susie Sunshine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I recently saw the movie about Ray Charles, and there's a scene where he falls down and the mother doesn't help him. She says, I don't want anyone to treat you like a cripple. I've fallen down before, and Molly will say, get up and just go.
What is a mother?
What is a mother? A mother is a friend.
What is a mother? A mother is your hero.
What is a mother? A mother is someone who can make your wishes comes true.
What is a mother? A mother is sugar and spice.
What is a mother? A mother knows all the coolest music and style.
What is a mother? A mother is everything in between.
What is a mother? A mother is a better version of you.
What is a mother? A mother is your mommy till the day that you leave this world behind.
poem by Natasha Ligons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What is a mother? pt 2
What is a mother? A mother is a friend.
What is a mother? A mother is your hero.
What is a mother? A mother is someone who can make your wishes comes true.
What is a mother? A mother is sugar and spice.
What is a mother? A mother knows all the coolest music and style.
What is a mother? A mother is everything in between.
What is a mother? A mother is a better version of you.
What is a mother? A mother is your mommy till the day that you leave this world behind.
poem by Natasha Ligons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Loving Tree
Three women walked upon a road,
And the first said airily,
“Of all the trees in all the world
Which is the loving tree?”
The second said, “My eyes have seen
No tree that is not fair;
But the Orange tree is the sweetest tree,
The loving blood is there.”
And the third said, “In the green time
I knew a loving tree
That gave a drink of the blood-red milk,
It was the Mulberry.”
Then the first one said, “Of all the trees
No sweetest can I name;
Ask her who yonder slowly comes—
That woman lean and lame.”
Grief like a hideous suckling hung
Along her hollow breast,
Pain was upon her as she walked,
And as she stooped to rest.
“Why will you question so?” she said,
“Is it to mock at me?
For how should I, who walk in Hell,
Know of a loving tree?
“My eyes are not as woman's eyes,
They hope not east or west:
Dull Famine my bed-mate is,
And Loneliness my guest.
“ 'Tis not the most delicious flower
That leaves the scent of Spring,
Nor is it yet the brightest bird
That loads his heart to sing.
“A tree may dance in the white weather
Or dream in a blue gown,
A tree may sing as a sweetheart
To bid the stars come down:
“Some trees are slim and lovable
And some are sleek and strong,
But the tree that has the cripple's heart
Will know the cripple's song.
“The sweetest death is the red death
That comes up nakedly,
And the tree that has the foiled heart
It is the loving tree.
“While ever lip shall seek for lip,
While ever light shall fall,
The tree that has the ruined heart
Is tenderest of all.
“Oh, ye may have your men to kiss,
And children warm to hold,
But the heart that had the hottest love
Was never yet consoled.”
The women three walked on their way,
Their shamed eyes could see
How well the tree with the foiled heart
Is still the loving tree.
poem by John Shaw Neilson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I still need a mother
I need a mother who would love me
I need a mother who would take care of me
I need a mother who would understand me
I need a mother for who I am
I need a mother to know me
I need a mother who would be there for me
I need a mother who would not yell at her son
I need a mother who won't push her son away
I need a mother who would not throw me out of her life
Even though I still need a mother
Everyday I try to be nice
Sometime she don't care about me
What I need is a mother who would be there for me
I need a mother who would watch me grow
I need a mother who would celebrate my birthday
I need a mother who would miss me
I need a mother to cry on
I need a mother to know that her son loves her
But she won't let me know her
What I need is a mother
Who is no more now.
poem by Bikramjyoti Kashyop
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I still need a mother
I need a mother who would love me
I need a mother who would take care of me
I need a mother who would understand me
I need a mother for who I am
I need a mother to know me
I need a mother who would be there for me
I need a mother who would not yell at her son
I need a mother who won't push her son away
I need a mother who would not throw me out of her life
Even though I still need a mother
Everyday I try to be nice
Sometime she don't care about me
What I need is a mother who would be there for me
I need a mother who would watch me grow
I need a mother who would celebrate my birthday
I need a mother who would miss me
I need a mother to cry on
I need a mother to know that her son loves her
But she won't let me know her
What I need is a mother
Who is no more now.
poem by Mahfooz Ali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Andrew Jones
I hate that Andrew Jones; he'll breed
His children up to waste and pillage.
I wish the press-gang or the drum
With its tantara sound would come,
And sweep him from the village!
I said not this, because he loves
Through the long day to swear and tipple;
But for the poor dear sake of one
To whom a foul deed he had done,
A friendless man, a travelling cripple!
For this poor crawling helpless wretch,
Some horseman who was passing by,
A penny on the ground had thrown;
But the poor cripple was alone
And could not stoop--no help was nigh.
Inch-thick the dust lay on the ground
For it had long been droughty weather;
So with his staff the cripple wrought
Among the dust till he had brought
The half-pennies together.
It chanced that Andrew passed that way
Just at the time; and there he found
The cripple in the mid-day heat
Standing alone, and at his feet
He saw the penny on the ground.
He stopped and took the penny up:
And when the cripple nearer drew,
Quoth Andrew, "Under half-a-crown,
What a man finds is all his own,
And so, my Friend, good-day to you."
And 'hence' I said, that Andrew's boys
Will all be trained to waste and pillage;
And wished the press-gang, or the drum
With its tantara sound, would come
And sweep him from the village.
poem by William Wordsworth
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When Life was Simple
When life was simple
Was when I was in mother's womb?
but wait we were poor so my mom got no prenatal care.
When life was simple
Was when my mother gave birth to me...?
but wait I was born premature with a collapsed lung unable to breathe.
When life was simple
Was when I was 6 month old?
but wait that was when my mom found out I have Cerebral Palsy.
When life was simple
Was when I was about ten?
but wait that when I was called the little cripple boy who has no friends.
When life was simple
I was about 26
but wait that when my mother scoffed at my poetic gift.
Well I'm 41 now
and throughout the years there's one thing I have learned
Life is never simple.
Sweetmother
Let her be nice, let her be wicked is she, mother is my mother. Let her be beauty, let her be ugly, mother is my mother. A gold that can never be lost, she look after me even if am wicked, she look into my eyes when am wick praying all days for my life. Even if she don't eat, she will look for what to eat. Let her be ugly, mother is my mother when i was still a kid, she carries me gently on her hand, she willlonl into my eyes and smile, she will say my good child when you are strong, you will make it in life, you will be successful even more that mother. There is no better love than mama's care. I love you mother. May you dat the FRUIT OF YOUR LABOUR.
poem by Lekadabra Fadimu
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Like No Other...Mother
Mother...
Mother, who gave us her heart...her very soul.
Mother, who's understanding never wavered.
Mother, the one who dried our tears.
Mother, she lead us to the path of His Love.
Mother, who washed our cloths and cleaned the house.
Mother, who instilled confidence in her children.
Mother, who walked us to school.
Mother, who loved us like no other.
Mother, who quelled the anger within us.
Mother, who drove us to all our practices.
Mother, who never forgot our special occasions.
Mother, who protected her family, as a lion to a cub.
Mother, who always supported our father.
Mother, who scrimped and saved for our daily needs.
Mother, who was always the last to eat.
Mother, who was always the first to rise.
Mother, who cared for the animals.
Mother, a love that knew no limits.
Mother, who forever placed her family, before herself.
Mother, who was grateful, for every passing acknowledgement.
Mother, whose eyes shined, when she heard the words,
I love you mom.
Mother, who always saw the good in us.
Mother, who always taught us to never, never, give up.
Mother, who instilled in us, to be better.
Mother, who made us believe, we could accomplish anything.
Mother, mother...mother, you were like no other.
Mother, you will always remain, in our
hearts, in our deeds, in our thoughts,
in our lives and in our prayers.
Surely, beyond the stars, there's a special place for Mothers.