The more cowherds there are, the worse the cows are looked after.
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Langwidge
'The flamin' cows!' 'e ses; 'e did, an' worse;
'Twas 'orrible the langwidge that 'e used.
It made me blood run cold to 'ear 'im curse;
An' me that taken-back-like an' confused;
W'ile them poor beasts 'e belted an' abused.
'They couldn't shift,' 'e ses, 'a blanky 'earse!
The flamin' cows!'
'The flamin' cows!' You oughter 'eard 'im curse.
You would a bin that shocked. . . . An' the idear!
'Im usin' such remarks about a 'earse;
An' 'is own brother buried not a year.
'Not move a blanky 'earee!' 'e ses. My dear,
You 'ardly could imagine langwidge worse.
'The flamin' cows!'
'The flamin' cows!' Wot would the parson say?
An' 'im so friendly-like with 'im an' 'er.
I pity 'er; I do, 'cos, in 'er way.
She is respectable. But 'i! It's fur
From me, as you well know, to cast a slur,
On anyone; but wot I 'eard that day. . . .
'The flamin' cows!'
'The flamin' cows!' I know quite well that we
Ain't wot you'd call thin-skinned; and nasty pride
Is wot I never 'ad.... But 'er! ... W'y she
She's allus that stuck-up an' full o' side;
A sorter thing I never could abide.
An' all the time 'er 'usband.... Goodness me!
'The flamin' cows!'
'The flamin' cows!' O' course 'e never knowed
That I was list'nin' to 'im all the w'ile.
'E muster bin a full hour on the road;
An', Lord, you could 'a' 'eard 'im for a mile.
Jes' cos they stuck 'im in that boggy sile:
'If they ain't blanky swine,' 'e ses, 'I'm blowed!
The flamin' cows!'
'The flamin' cows!' W'y, if it 'ad occurred,
An' me not 'eard, I'd 'ardly think it true.
An', you know well, I wouldn't breathe a word
Against a livin' soul, I don't care 'oo;
Not if the Queen of Hingland arst me to.
But, oh! that langwidge! If you only 'eard!
'The flamin' cows!'
'The flamin' cows!' 'e ses,, an' more besides.
An' fancy! 'Im! To think that 'e would swear!
W'y 'Blarst!' 'e sez... Yes! 'Blarst the'r blanky 'ides!'
(Oh, you may well throw up your 'ands an' stare!)
Yes - 'Blarst,' 'e ses, 'the'r blanky 'ides an' 'air!
I'll out the blanky skin off er the'r sides!
The flamin' cows!'
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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They say the cows laid out Boston. Well, there are worse surveyors.
quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Food In Heaven
Food In Heaven
Food In Heaven
He made the cows to want the rain to fall he made the grass that they use to eat to fill the want inside a cow he makes grass as bread for cows they just continue there to graze in some places in the desert spaces there is grass for cows to eat this is called heaven sweet to cows they drink water when they have it in a drink flavored pouch oh no see eh ewe caught me making lies no listen while eye smile and tell ewe this poem is so nice there is grass for all the cows there is grass on every hill and every cow can eat in heaven they still have grass for every cow there is food in heaven there is food there in a drink flavored pouch.
poem by Charles Hice
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Oxford Cheese Ode
The ancient poets ne'er did dream
That Canada was land of cream,
They ne'er imagined it could flow
In this cold land of ice and snow,
Where everything did solid freeze,
They ne'er hoped or looked for cheese.
A few years since our Oxford farms
Were nearly robbed of all their charms,
O'er cropped the weary land grew poor
And nearly barren as a moor,
But now the owners live at ease
Rejoicing in their crop of cheese.
And since they justly treat the soil,
Are well rewarded for their toil,
The land enriched by goodly cows,
Yie'ds plenty now to fill their mows,
Both wheat and barley, oats and peas
But still their greatest boast is cheese.
And you must careful fill your mows
With good provender for your cows,
And in the winter keep them warm,
Protect them safe all time from harm,
For cows do dearly love their ease,
Which doth insure best grade of cheese.
To us it is a glorious theme
To sing of milk and curds and cream,
Were it collected it could float
On its bosom, small steam boat,
Cows numerous as swarm of bees
Are milked in Oxford to make cheese.
poem by James McIntyre
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Cows are my passion. What I have ever sighed for has been to retreat to a Swiss farm, and live entirely surrounded by cows - and china.
quote by Charles Dickens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Looked At You
i looked at you,
and saw the fugitive
in my mirror.
i looked at me,
and saw the child in you.
i looked at God,
and saw the stranger waiting.
i looked at the stranger,
and saw my brother in need.
i looked at freedom,
and saw the bars of the cell.
i looked at the bars,
and saw my spirit walk free.
i looked at anger,
and saw forgiveness waiting.
i looked at forgiveness,
and saw the hands of love.
i looked at my body,
and saw the bird leaving the nest.
i looked at the nest,
and saw a world made of straw.
i looked at today,
and saw the scars of yesterday.
i looked at yesterday,
and saw the dawning of tomorrow.
i looked at the seed,
and saw the plant in fullness.
i looked at fullness,
and saw emptiness the seed.
i looked at you...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Loss of Love
All through an empty place I go,
And find her not in any room;
The candles and the lamps I light
Go down before a wind of gloom.
Thick-spraddled lies the dust about,
A fit, sad place to write her name
Or draw her face the way she looked
That legendary night she came.
The old house crumbles bit by bit;
Each day I hear the ominous thud
That says another rent is there
For winds to pierce and storms to flood.
My orchards groan and sag with fruit;
Where, Indian-wise, the bees go round;
I let it rot upon the bough;
I eat what falls upon the ground.
The heavy cows go laboring
In agony with clotted teats;
My hands are slack; my blood is cold;
I marvel that my heart still beats.
I have no will to weep or sing,
No least desire to pray or curse;
The loss of love is a terrible thing;
They lie who say that death is worse.
poem by Countee Cullen
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Maybe the mistakes have looked worse because they led to goals.
quote by Ian Walker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Get Over It
Slipping down a slide
I did enjoy the ride
Don't know what to decide
You lied to me
You looked me in the eye
It took me by surprise
Now are you gratified
You cried to me
La, la, la, la, la, la
Don't turn around
I'm sick and I'm tired of your face
Don't make this worse
You've already gone and got me mad
It's too bad I'm not sad
It's casting over
It's just one of those things
You'll have to get over it
When I was feeling down
You'd start to hang around
And then I found your hands all over me
And that was out of bounds
You filthy rotten hound
It's better than it sounds, believe me
la La, la, la, la, la
Don't turn around
I'm sick and I'm tired of your face
Don't make this worse
You've already gone and got me mad
It's too bad I'm not sad
It's casting over
It's just one of those things
You'll have to get over it
Hey, you gotta get over
Hey, you gotta get over it
It's too bad I'm not sad
It's casting over
It's just one of those things
You'll have to get over it
Don't turn around
I'm sick and I'm tired of your face
Don't make this worse
You've already gone and got me mad
Don't turn around
I'm sick and I'm tired of your face
Don't make this worse
You've already gone and got me mad
It's too bad I'm not sad
It's casting over
It's just one of those things
You'll have to get over it
You'll have to get over it
song performed by by Avril Lavigne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Once a man went into a forest to sell his cows
There was no one to buy except a pair of doves,
The doves asked the man: ' How much? '
Their question gave him an emotional touch.
He said that he would not sell the cows' hoofs.
quote by by MBJ Pancras
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The Wildy Ones
The sheep are in the silver wood,
The cows are in the broom;
The goats are in the wild mountain
And won't be home by noon.
My mother sang that olden tune
Most every night,
And to her newest she would croon
By candle light;
While cuddling in the velvet gloom
I'd dream of cows
That sought each dawn 'mid golden broom
To gently browse.
Or I would glimpse the silver wood,
The birchen glade,
Where pearly sheep in quiet mood
Cropped unafraid;
But how I loved in lapsing drowse
The mountain wild!
The goats were more than sheep and cows
To one wee child.
For cows and sheep are shelter-wise,
And love the lea;
While goats have starlight in their eyes,
In cragland free . . .
And now on edge of endless sleep
Wryly I note
How less I'm kin to kine and sheep
Than rebel goat!
poem by Robert William Service
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Surroundings-28
Strange Friendship
Two cows two storks friendly strolling
As if storks white caring cows each
Strange sight on street wonders outreach
What most in me thrilled still trickling
poem by Indira Renganathan
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The arms race is worse than it ever was, the dumping of creation down a military rat hole is worse than it ever was, the wars across the earth are worse than they ever were.
quote by Daniel Berrigan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hyperboles and Such
A bubble floats,
Will pass on by,
The cows and goats
Begin to cry.
The balloon falls dead.
The whip cracks dawn.
The frog prince hopes.
The jungle kings yawn.
Until then, the till now plows.
And earth now weeps for goats and cows.
poem by Jesse Swedlund
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Snakes and cows
Foxes are cheats;
Snakes are venom;
Lions are cruel.
Are they all meant,
For that, to go to hell?
Cows are pious;
Deer are harmless;
Dogs are loyal.
Are they all meant,
For that, to go to heaven?
Some are by nature like snakes
And some are like cows.
26.05.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Countin The Cows Every Day
Countin the cows every day
By: jimmy buffett
1975
Oh Im just a cowboy, an old hired hand
Never seen nothin majestic or grand
I just received a great big tax return
Now Im off to las vegas with money to burn
Its been a while since I last left this town
Bought a new suit and Im nevada bound
Gonna make it, gonna break it, Ive been there before
Nothins gone wrong, this towns such a bore
Chorus:
Aw, the train leaves at seven, all go to heaven
Nothin here to make me stay
cause that las vegas glitter sure beats kitty litter
Countin the cows every day
Chorus:
Yeah, the train leaves at seven, on up to heaven
Nothin here to make me stay
cause that las vegas glitter sure beats kitty litter
Countin the cows every day
And countin the cows every day
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Merciless men
No bulls! All bullocks!
All castrated, libido arrested,
They toil for their men-folks.
All cows! Only to yield calves,
With no bulls to mate them,
Or to beat cows’ heat.
Just to milk for the folks!
Bulls no more masculine
To fall in love with cow;
Cows, though fully feminine,
Excite no male to copulate.
Cows are delivered of their calves,
Having never gone to sex,
By seminal injections.
Bullocks are stripped of peak of sex..
Creations go without lovemaking.
Men and women of all walks,
From sixteen to sixty or more,
Learn to groom their passion,
With hormones and fashion,
To entertain their orgasm,
By nature way or manipulation,
As often as they desired,
In multitudes and with multitudes,
Whether for a child or not,
More often for no procreation.
Devices are found against confinement
And for a high erotic enjoyment.
Lovemaking goes without creation.
Animals are killed of sexual joy
To multiple the race.
Men-folks are filled of erotic joy
To limit the race.
05.02.99, Dindukal
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Broremann The Farmhand
Broremann, the farmer worker.
Every morning at five thirty sharp, my brother Broremann
had to milk five cows by hand bring bucket full of goodness
to the scullery where maid sifted it and in a churn it went.
He had to start milking Rose first, she was the mother cow
other cows wouldn´t give milk unless he started with her.
After milking Broremann had to clean the barn five cows
make a lot of dung; he pushed it down in a hole in the wall
it was later used to fertilize the land. My brother was proud
of his ability to milk and his hands were, firm yet gentle.
There was a problem though Rose didn´t yield as much milk
as before as she was getting elderly and the farmer sold her
to the knacker’s yard. It was a sad day and the other cows
mooed woefully. The farmer bought a new cow to take Rosa´s
place, but Broremann couldn´t milk her first, as she was new-
comer, so he started with Gerda, now the oldest cow, and milk
the new one last, thus rural peace continued in the cow shed.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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That Cat Won't Sit On Your Lap
She warned me
That cat won't sit on your lap
She won't let you pick her up
And she won't let you sit on your lap
She likes to rub her head on you
But that's it
She won't let you pick her up
The cat looked at me
I looked at her
I let her rub her head on my leg
I look at her again and made a cat noise
She said, you'll see, she doesn't let anybody pick her up
I just looked at the cat
She looked at me
I reached to pick her up and she flinched
But she came back
I looked at her
And picked her up
She arched her back briefly
I rubbed her head, which she liked
The cat stayed on my lap
She said....how did you do that?
I said, I just did!
I looked a the cat
she looked at me
And we agreed not to tell
I put her down
As I did she knowingly looked back at me.
poem by James T. Adair
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The Whale
The Whale is found in seas and oceans,
Indulging there in fishlike motions,
But Science shows that Whales are mammals,
Like Jersey cows, and goats, and camels.
When undisturbed, the Whale will browse
Like camels, goats, and Jersey cows,
On food that satisfies its tongue,
Thus making milk to feed its young.
Asking no costly hay and oats,
Like camels, Jersey cows, and goats,
The Whale, prolific milk producer,
Should be our cheapest lactic juicer.
Our milk should all come from the sea,
But who, I ask, would want to be—
And here the proposition fails—
The milkmaid to a herd of Whales?
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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