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Shovel And Tongs
The Poker proposed to the shovel
That they should be man and wife,
'I think,' said he, 'that we could agree
As we journey along through life.'
The Shovel blushed as she answered,
'I thank you kindly, Mister,
But my promise belongs to the faithful Tongs,
So I only can be your sister.'
And when the couple were married
The Stove gave the Shovel away;
And it seemed too bad that the Poker, poor lad,
Was the Tongs' best man on that day.
But the Poker soon after was wedded
To the hearth broom, slender and slick;
And 'twas whispered about Mrs. Tongs was put out
Because he found comfort so quick.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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The Broom, the Shovel, the Poker and the Tongs
The Broom and the Shovel, the Poker and Tongs,
They all took a drive in the Park,
and they each sang a song, Ding-a-dong, Ding-a-dong,
Before they went back in the dark.
Mr Poker he sate quite upright in the coach,
Mr Tongs made a clatter and clash,
Miss Shovel was dressed all in black (with a brooch),
Mrs Broom was in blue (with a sash).
Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong!
And they all sang a song!
'O Shovely so lovely!' the Poker he sang,
'You have perfectly conquered my heart!
Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong! If you're pleased with my song,
I will feed you with cold apple tart!
When you scrape up the coals with a delicate sound,
You enrapture my life with delight!
Your nose is so shiny! your head is so round!
And your shape is so slender and bright!
Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong!
Ain't you pleased with my song?'
'Alas! Mrs Broom!' sighed the Tongs in his song,
'O is it because I'm so thin,
And my legs are so long - Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong!
That you don't care about me a pin?
Ah! fairest of creatures, when sweeping the room,
Ah! why don't you heed my complaint!
Must you needs be so cruel, you beautiful Broom,
Because you are covered with paint!
Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong!
You are certainly wrong!'
Mrs Broom and Miss Shovel together they sang,
'What nonsense you're singing today!'
Said the Shovel, 'I'll certainly hit you a bang!'
Said the Broom, 'And I'll sweep you away!'
So the Coachman drove homeward as fast as he could,
Perceiving their anger with pain;
But they put on the kettle, and little by little,
They all became happy again.
Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong!
There's an end of my song!
poem by Edward Lear
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Desist From It
Insults do not help in friendship,
Insults do not help in love,
And, insults do not win power! !
So desist from hurling insults at each other;
Because it betrays the trust of the people!
Source,
In the area;
Fingers,
In his or her room;
Complaints,
And to bring them closer to the assembly! !
But hurling insults at each other betrays the trust of the people.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Game Of Poker
A deck of cards, and I think of the game poker
An ace is a joker
Or a choker
In the game of poker
You can win from behind
With five, four or three of a kind
Never be in a rush
To dish out a flush
When you do, rub it in a a blush
This game of poker, I love so much
Every card and every single touch
Winners, beginners, high shakers and losers
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Insult Upon Injury
Insult!
How do you feel when a woman insults you oh man?
Insult!
How do you feel when a man insults you oh woman?
Insult!
How do you feel when your wife insults you?
Insult!
How do you feel when your husband insults you?
Insult!
How do you feel when a child insults you?
Insult upon injury! !
But the jury is here at last to stay on this case.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Initial feedback we got from people was that Poker could and should be a product in its own right. For us, that was definitely a case of us not seeing the forest for the trees since we are Poker nuts.
Difference In The Dark
They say the pot calls every kettle black
and pokers poke fun always at a shovel,
and chiropractors call a doc a quack,
but please don’t call my home sweet home a hovel.
They say that every lawyer is a shark,
and that a sexy woman has to be a slut,
but I can’t tell the difference in the dark,
or when the light’s on, when my eyes are shut.
When standing up, a man deserves applause,
but if he can’t, what should you call his poker
when narrative can’t keep up with the laws
of nature, and the poker is a joker?
Inspired by a review by Charles Rosen of a new edition of the Essays of Montaigne published by Pléiade (NYR, February 14 2008) :
He was, in fact, only fifty-five years old, but he was already experiencing the sense of old age. In another essay he describes what advancing years have done to him. “I can no longer make children standing up” [perhaps that was considered a proof of virility in his time]….
A view of adultery as completely natural is developed at length…At one point he addresses all male readers directly: “And of you have cuckolded somebody”-and that logically means it will happen to you. In the East Indies, he reports, a married woman is expected to be chaste, but she is allowed to abandon herself to any man who gives her an elephant. The essay best reveals an essential trait of Montaigne: he had almost no sense of guilt-regret often enough, of course, but no guilt It is no wonder that he thought repentance more a nuisance than a virtue. “On Some Verses of Virgil” is not only a nostalgic and frank discussion of sex, but also a collection of misogynistic anecdotes and jokes, banalities and classical traditions, largely to establish that it is absurd to force women to live by rules fashioned by men, and to require them to believe that that are not interested in sex, when they are in fact more lascivious than men—having so much less to occupy them…The coexist happily. And the idea is reinforced by further commonplaces:
It is easier to attack one sex than to excuse the other. As we say: the ot calls the kettle black. [More literally, the poker makes fun of the shovel.]
2/2/08
poem by Gershon Hepner
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20th December
When your boyfriend insults you what will you do?
When your girlfriend insults you what will you do?
When your husband insults you what will you do?
When your wife insults you what will you do?
Of the way of life that goes on like this at times;
But who the cup fits must surely wear it.
I am a teacher on this love,
But at times i am being insulted by my students;
And that makes me learn better daily,
Because the road of life is crooked at times.
20th December,
Of the insult that i received from you as my lover;
Then i stopped to think for a while,
Why should i hear these words from you?
Oh life,
How hard it is for some people to change;
And, you cannot satisfy everybody on this earth.
Yes, whatever you do people will talk about you;
Whether in a positive way or a negative way.
20th December!
Of a call so close to me than your muse;
But my heart will lead me on always with my patience.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Whatever insults my State insults me.
quote by Preston Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Smoke and poker (parody
(with apology to Koos A. Kombuis)
in the lane of the light
we go into the location
and there create family
on beds with blankets without sheets.
[Rook en poker (Smoke and poker) by Koos A. Kombuis.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Smiling And Driving
someone called me something despicable
and then someone showed me his finger
and then someone glared at me
and then someone yelled something unpleasant
and then someone exploded into a ball of rage
and then someone kept honking profanities
and all i did was smile at them.
i had a silly smile on my face.
and everything they said
and everything they did
lost venom
and lost their barbs and lost their sting
and lost their heat and lost their daggers
and lost their way and lost their relevance.
because when i smiled,
i disallowed them the pleasure to hurt me.
insults become insults
only if i open the door and let them in.
as long as i keep the door closed,
and keep my smile going,
insults are nothing but useless sound energy.
keep smiling. enjoy driving.
poem by Prathap Suthan
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Keep Them Coming
Keep them coming.
Insults you believe leaves me taunted.
Keep them coming.
It is you,
Not me who collects.
A lifetime of hauntings.
Unable to sleep,
From those misdeeds planted.
Keep them coming.
Insults you believe leaves me taunted.
I am not visited by mysterious shadows.
Appearing.
To stir within me unspeakable fear.
With attempts to keep blocked,
On the other side of locked doors.
No peace is yours.
It is you,
Not me who collects.
A lifetime of hauntings.
Keep them coming.
Insults you believe leaves me taunted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Jack
She gave me the Queen
She gave me the King
She was wheelin' and dealin'
Just doin' her thing
She was holdin' a pair
But I had to try
Her Deuce was wild
But my Ace was high
But how was I to know
That she'd been dealt with before
Said she'd never had a Full House
But I should have known
From the tattoo on her left leg
And the garter on her right
She'd have the card to bring me down
If she played it right
She's got the Jack
Poker face was her name
Poker face was her nature
Poker straight was her game
If she knew she could get you
She play'd 'em fast
She play'd 'em hard
She could close her eyes
And feel every card
But how was I to know
That she'd been shuffled before
Said she'd never had a Royal Flush
But I should have known
That all the cards were comin'
From the bottom of the pack
And if I'd known what she was dealin' out
I'd have dealt it back
She's got the Jack.
song performed by by AC/DC from High Voltage
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Settle Down
Brimming with useless information,
Spilling thoughts void of true opinion,
Yes you'll fight it to the death,
Yeah you'll fight it to the death.
Fighting someone elses favour,
Regurgetate the words you heard on radio 2,
Arghhh didn't you?
[chorus]
Stop throwing insults and crockery around,
We can all be destructive so settle down, settle down
Well every dialoge needs a certain suitor,
One whos open minded,
To calmly digest the very question of,
And understand,
to look at things from many angles,
constuct and critic without anger,
Even comprimise,
You never comprimise
chorus x2
Stop throwing insults and crockery around,
Stop throwing insults and crockery around,
We can all be destructive so settle down, settle down
Stop throwing insults and crockery around,
We can all be destructive so settle down, settle down, settle down, settle down
song performed by by Ordinary Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lazy Poker Blues
Written by peter green and adams.
Me and my baby dont do nothing but lay around all day long
I said me and my baby dont do nothing but lay around all day long
Yeah when Im with my baby, lazy poker goin on
She puts some coal on the fire so I can keep my poker hot
She puts some coal on the fire so I can keep my poker hot
Yeah, we stoke around all day long and night time we stoke around some more
Well now me and my baby dont do nothin but lay around the whole day long
I said me and my baby dont do nothin but lay around the whole day long
When Im with my baby, lazy poker goin on
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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4% Pantomime
The management said they were sorry
For the inconvenience you are suffering
And mr. booking agent, please have mercy
Dont book the jobs so far apart
We went up to griffith park
With a fifth of johnny walker red
And smashed it on a rock and wept
While the old couple looked on into the dark
Oh, richard, tell me if its poker
Oh, richard, tell me, whos got the joker and is it poker
Deuces wild, like an only child
Ill see what you got. how much is in the pot
You pay the tips and Ill collect the chips
Its a full house tonight -- everybody in town is a loser
Yeah, you bet
The dealers been dealing me bad hands
From the bottom of the deck without the slightest blush
And I dont know whether to call or check
But right now I feel like I got a royal flush
And my lady didnt show from frisco
But we had to go on with the show
Everybody got stoned -- it was a gas, it was a smash
Everybody got wrecked, checked. oh, oh, oh, oh.
Oh, belfast cowboy, lay your cards on the grade
Oh, belfast cowboy, can you call a spade a spade
Oh, richard, tell me, is the game poker
I cant understand who the fool is that holds this joker
Is it poker
Oh, belfast cowboy, lay your cards down on the table
Oh, belfast cowboy, do you think youre able
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Too Time Consuming
Drop your expectations,
That I have come here to protect against insults
And other offensive verbal assaults.
Comments that offend,
Are not isolated to those addicted to them.
And anyone blessed...
With determination,
Does not rest.
And knows how obnoxious some folks can get.
But that does not impede...
One obsessed with the success of progress.
Insults seem to feed their ambitions!
And to get folks like this angered until they 'hiss'...
Is a regretful stinging given,
No one quickly forgets to easily dismiss.
So...
Drop your expectations
That I have come here to protect against insults
And other offensive verbal assaults.
I am hoping to maintain my focus.
And not be made to address issues and other notions.
They are too time consuming to brood with an attitude.
And attitude with mood...
I can give!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Rock Away
Stay on it.
Pray on it.
Don't give up,
'Til you own it.
And...
Pound, pound that rock away!
Don't let it get to you another day,
Oh!
Get a pick and shovel pieces of it...
To a place where it will stay.
Oooow!
p-p-p Pound, pound that rock away.
Don't let it get to you another day,
Oh!
tick-tick-tick,
Get a pick...
And shovel pieces of it to a place,
Where you know it will stay!
Take it off your constant meter.
Make your heated sweat,
Even sweeter.
Give it up to the gripper,
Quicker.
Slicker.
Live your life lived that much richer.
And...
Pound, pound that rock away!
Don't let it get to you another day,
Oh!
Get a pick and shovel pieces of it...
To a place,
Where...
It will stay.
You will not feel free,
Until that beast has been ceased.
Stay on it.
Pray on it.
Don't give up,
'Til you own it.
Stay on it.
Pray on it.
Don't give up,
'Til you own it.
p-p-p Pound, pound that rock away.
Don't let it get to you another day,
Oh!
tick-tick-tick,
Get a pick...
And shovel pieces of it,
To a place,
Where...
It will stay!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Last Night I Played Poker With Death
Last night
I played poker with death.
It was a long night
and I wanted to win the game
but I did not win.
And now
I can see from the distance
the erecting hair of sunrise
so pale, but it's golden.
And I see my wife
weeping and weeping
and weeping...
beside my dead body.
I want to embrace her
but this light from above
is lifting me up
higher....and higher.
Last night
I played poker with death
and I did not win.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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