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Yo' Bootay to Hoottang Boot
Youcanbuttonupyourcollarfromthebottomtothetop.
So-no-onebothersyouforwhatyou'vegot.
Pretendi ngyou'vegotsomethingyouhavenot.
Or-youcoul dchoosetokeepitlockeduptight.
So-youdon'thavet odropittofeedanappetite.
It's-yo'bootayhoottan gtopootang,
Whoyouchoosetoscrewandboot.
It's yo'bootayhoottangtopootang,
Whoyouchoosetoscrewandboot.
Letothersm isunderstandyourstimulationindebate.
Inplayerh atecasestheywannamandate.
Letothersdecidewhosi detoride...
Withwideyedliestheytrytohide.
I t's-yo'bootayhoottangtopootang,
Whoyouchoosetoscrewandboot.
It's yo'bootayhoottangtopootang,
Whoyouchoosetoscrewandboot.
It's-yo'bo otaytohoottang,
Whoyoupootang.
Hoot!
It's-yo'bootaytohoottang,
Whoyoupootang.
Hoot!
Youcanbuttonupyourcollarfromthebottomtoth etop.
So-no-onebothersyouforwhatyou'vegot.
Pretendingyou'vegotsomethingyouhavenot.
It 's-yo'bootaytohoottang,
Whoyoupootang.
Hoot!
It's-yo'bootaytohoottang,
Whoyoupootang.
Hoot!
Letothersmisunderstandyourstimulationinde bate.
Inplayerhatecasestheywannamandate.
Le tothersdecidewhosidetoride...
Withwideyedliest heytrytohide.
It's-yo'bootayhoottangtopoot ang...boot!
Yo'bootay to hoottang...boot!
Yo'bootay to hoottang...boot!
Yo'bootay to hoottang...boot!
oooowww....
Boot!
Yo'bootay to hoottang...boot!
Yo'bootay to hoottang...boot!
Yo'bootay to hoottang...boot!
oooowww....
Boot!
Yo'bootay to hoottang...boot!
Yo'bootay to hoottang...boot!
Yo'bootay to hoottang...boot!
oooowww....
Boot!
Yo'bootay to hoottang...boot!
Yo'bootay to hoottang...boot!
Yo'bootay to hoottang...boot!
oooowww....
Boot!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Medley: Pick A Bale Of Cotton / On Top Of Old Smokey / Midnight Special
Gonna jump down, spin around, pick a bale of cotton
Gonna jump down, spin around, pick a bale a day
Gonna jump down, spin around, pick a bale of cotton
Gonna jump down, spin around, pick a bale a day
Oh lordy
Pick a bale of cotton
Oh lordy
Pick a bale a day
Oh lordy
Pick a bale of cotton
Oh lordy
Pick a bale a day
I said me and my buddy gonna pick a bale of cotton
Now me and my buddy gonna pick a bale a day
I said me and my buddy gonna pick a bale of cotton
Now me and my buddy gonna pick a bale a day
Oh lordy
Pick a bale of cotton
Oh lordy
Pick a bale a day
Oh lordy
Pick a bale of cotton
Oh lordy
Pick a bale a day
On top of old Smokey
all covered with snow
I lost my true lover
by courting so slow
For courting's a pleasure
And parting is brief
and a false-hearted lover
is worse than a thief
On top of old Smokey
all covered with snow
I lost my true lover
by courting so slow
Well, you wake up in the morning
Hear the ding dong ring
You go marching to the table
See the same old thing
See the fork on the table
Nothing in your pan
If you say a thing about it
You're in trouble with the man
Let the midnight special
Shine a light on me
Let the midnight special
Shine it's everlovin' light on me
If you ever go to Houston
Well you'd better act right
And you'd better not gamble
And you'd better not fight
For the sheriff will arrest you
And he'll take you down
And before you understand it
You are prison bound
Let the midnight special
Shine a light on me
Let the midnight special
Shine it's everlovin' light on me (on me, on me)
Let the midnight special
Shine a light on me
Let the midnight special
Shine it's everlovin' light on me (on me, on me)
(repeat)
song performed by by ABBA
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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With A Slacking Done To Piggyback
With a slacking done to piggyback.
Some boot the doer,
Strapped in a saddle and allowing that.
Some boot the doer,
All day long.
And showing strength,
With a disposition strong.
With a knick-knack paddywhack,
Slapped and smacked back...
Some boot the doer.
Pity patters chit chat.
Some boot the doer.
And all day long...
Showing strength is the doer.
The doer shows strength and is strong.
Que cherche-tu mais oui beaucoup...
Some boot the doer.
Yes,
It's true.
Very much of this if you look for it.
Some boot the doer.
Yes,
And quick!
Strapped in a saddle and allowing that.
Some boot the doer.
Some boot the doer.
With a slacking done to piggyback.
Some boot the doer.
Some boot the doer.
With a knick-knack paddywhack,
Slapped and smacked back...
Some boot the doer.
Some boot the doer.
Que cherche-tu mais oui beaucoup...
Some boot the doer.
Yes,
It's true.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Give Me No More Booty
Give me no more booty,
'Cause your booty is too good.
Ah
Booty is too good
Ah
Your booty is too good.
Give me no more booty,
'Cause your booty is too good.
I can never stop,
When you give it out a lot.
Give me no more booty,
'Cause your booty is too good.
Giving me so much,
Makes my head get such a rush.
I can't sustain my game with it!
Or sustain my need to be relieved.
I'm whipped!
Quick.
Give me no more booty,
'Cause your booty is too good.
Ah
Booty is too good
Ah
Your booty is too good.
Give me no more booty,
'Cause your booty is too good.
I can never stop,
When you give it out a lot.
I'm no beast to eatcha.
When you are in heat.
I'd rather just keep ya...
Between sheets,
Beneath.
Oh,
I'm no beast to eatcha.
When you are in heat.
I'd rather just keep ya...
Between sheets,
Beneath.
Oh,
But...
Give me no more booty,
'Cause your booty is too good.
Ah
Your booty is too good
Ah
Your booty is too good.
Give me no more booty,
'Cause your booty is too good.
I can never stop,
When you give it out a lot.
You make it hard...
To give that booty a boot.
Make it hard,
To give that booty a boot.
You make it hard...
To give that booty a boot.
Make it hard,
To give that booty a boot.
You make it hard...
To give that booty a boot.
Make it hard,
To give that booty a boot.
You make it hard...
To give that booty a boot.
Make it hard,
To give that booty a boot.
I've got to,
Get up off your booty and boot.
I've got to,
Get up off your booty and boot.
I've got to,
Get up off your booty and boot.
I've got to,
Get up off your booty and boot.
Got to,
Get up off your booty and boot.
Got to,
Get up off your booty and boot.
I've got to,
Get up off your booty and boot.
Got to,
Get up off your booty and boot.
I've got to,
Get up off your booty.
Get up off your booty.
Get up off your booty.
And boot!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Car Boot
They sleep in twos and eights
With hopes and expectations
Pornographic dreams of cleanliness
Car boot
Tip tap little star
I hope that you are not thirsty
My vision has evaporated
Car boot
The giants house is burning
Smoke invades the eyes
Goodnight my dear cretin
Car boot
poem by James Clive
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Boot and Saddle
I
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
Rescue my castle before the hot day
Brightens to blue from its silvery gray,
Chorus. Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
II
Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you'd say;
Many's the friend there, will listen and pray
"God's luck to gallants that strike up the lay—
Chorus. "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
III
Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay,
Flouts Castle Brancepeth the Roundheads' array:
Who laughs, "Good fellows ere this, by my fay,
Chorus. "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
IV
Who? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay,
Laughs when you talk of surrendering, "Nay!
I've better counsellors; what counsel they?
Chorus. "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
poem by Robert Bloomfield from Cavalier Tunes (1842)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Epitaph of Cleonicus
Man, husband existence: ne'er launch on the sea
Out of season: our tenure of life is but frai.
Think of poor Cleonicus: for Phasos sailed he
From the valleys of Syria, with many a bale:
With many a bale, ocean's tides he would stem
When the Pleiads were sinking; and he sank with them.
poem by Theocritus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Choose to Boot It Just to Mute
...and,
You may...
Risk your life for petty reasons.
You may...
Not believe it to accept it,
Just to find there's nothing there to lose.
...and,
You may...
Risk your life for petty reasons.
You may...
Not believe it to accept it,
Just to find there's nothing there to lose.
And 'then'...
You may,
Get dramatic in dismissing diplomatic moments toned...
When knowing love of life you own with a peace of mind condoned,
In and outside of your home,
Is not on loan droning in a moan groaned all day and night long!
And you 'dig it like the fresh scent of Spring!
Oooh Whoa noooo mo'...
...and,
You may...
Risk your life for petty reasons.
You may...
Not believe it to accept it,
Just to find there's nothing there to lose.
...and,
You may...
Choose to boot it just to mute.
And...
You may,
Boot it just to keep it mute.
...and,
You may...
Choose to boot it just to mute.
And...
You may,
Boot it just to keep it mute.
And then,
You may...
Do whatever it is wanted if you wanted.
Then you may,
Do whatever it is wanted!
And then you may,
Do whatever it is wanted if you wanted.
But then you may,
Boot it just to keep it mute
Or...
Then,
You may...
Choose to boot it just to mute.
Or then you may,
Choose to boot it just to mute!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Want To Do What You Want To Do
You want to do what you want to do,
With flip lip and attitude.
With a bet you boot...
To the curb who you choose to scoot!
You are quick with fault to feed,
Anyone you do not need!
With a bet you boot...
To the curb you choose to do.
You will do just as you please,
Caring less who you deceive!
With a bet you boot,
Anyone you poo poo doo!
She will be no,
Fool for you.
He will be no,
Fool for you.
We will be no,
Fool for you!
With a bet you boot,
Anyone you poo poo doo!
She will be no,
Fool for you.
He will be no,
Fool for you.
We will be no,
Fool for you!
With a bet you boot,
Anyone you poo poo doo!
You want to do what you want to do,
With flip lip and attitude.
With a bet that you boot...
To the curb who you choose to scoot!
But...
She will be no,
Fool for you.
He will be no,
Fool for you.
We will be no,
Fool for you!
With a bet you boot...
To the curb who you choose to scoot!
With a bet you boot...
To the curb who you choose to scoot!
You want to do what you want to do,
With flip lip and attitude.
With a bet you boot...
To the curb who you choose to scoot!
You are quick with fault to feed,
Anyone you do not need!
With a bet you boot...
To the curb you choose to do.
She will be no,
Fool for you.
He will be no,
Fool for you.
We will be no,
Fool for you!
With a bet you boot,
Anyone you poo poo doo!
With a bet you boot...
To the curb you choose to do.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cavalier Tunes: Boot and Saddle
Boot, saddle, to horse and away!
Rescue my Castle, before the hot day
Brightens to blue from its silvery gray,
(Chorus)
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you'd say;
Many's the friend there, will listen and pray
"God's luck to gallants that strike up the lay--
(Chorus)
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay,
Flouts Castle Brancepeth the Roundheads' array:
Who laughs, "Good fellows ere this, by my fay,
(Chorus)
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
Who? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay,
Laughs when you talk of surrendering, "Nay!
I've better counsellors; what counsel they?
(Chorus)
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
poem by Robert Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Boot and Saddle
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
Rescue my Castle, before the hot day
Brightens the blue from its silvery grey,
(Chorus) "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you'd say;
Many's the friend there, will listen and pray
"God's luck to gallants that strike up the lay,
(Chorus) "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay,
Flouts Castle Brancepeth the Roundheads array:
Who laughs, Good fellows ere this, by my fay,
(Chorus) "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
Who? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay,
Laughs when you talk of surrendering, "Nay!
I've better counsellors; what counsel they?"
(Chorus) "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
poem by Robert Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Bit of Sizzle And a Boot Up
I feel I'm gonna need it,
Under my feet.
That heat to get me moving.
That heat to make me leap.
I feel I'm gonna need it,
Under my feet.
Yes...
Because I'm slowing down.
And it's age that's creepin 'round.
I sometimes feel a little rusty.
With a little rust getting dusty.
I need a bit of sizzle and a boot up.
Just a bit of sizzle and a boot up.
I need a bit of sizzle and a boot up.
A push to get me out this rut.
I need a bit of sizzle and a boot up.
Just a bit of sizzle and a boot up.
I need a bit of sizzle and a boot up.
A push to get me out this rut.
I feel I'm gonna need it,
Under my feet.
That heat to get me moving.
That heat to make me leap.
I feel I'm gonna need it,
Under my feet.
Yes...
Because I'm slowing down.
And it could be my age creepin 'round.
I need a bit of sizzle and a boot up.
Just a bit of sizzle and a boot up.
I sometimes feel a little rusty.
With a little rust getting dusty.
I feel I'm gonna need it,
Under my feet.
Yes...
Because I'm slowing down.
And it's age that's creepin 'round.
I sometimes feel a little rusty.
With a little rust getting dusty.
I...
Sometimes feel a little rusty.
With a little rust getting dusty.
I need a bit of sizzle and a boot up.
Just a bit of sizzle and a boot up.
I need a bit of sizzle and a boot up.
Just a bit of sizzle and a boot up.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pick A Bale Of Cotton
Gonna jump down
Spin around
Pick a bale of cotton
Gonna jump down
Spin around
Pick a bale a day
Gonna jump down
Spin around
Pick a bale of cotton
Gonna jump down
Spin around
Pick a bale a day
Oh, lordy
Pick a bale of cotton
Oh, lordy
Pick a bale a day
Oh, lordy
Pick a bale of cotton
Oh, lordy
Pick a bale a day
I said
Me and my buddy gonna pick a bale of cotton
Now
Me and my buddy gonna pick a bale a day
I said
Me and my buddy gonna pick a bale of cotton
Now
Me and my buddy gonna pick a bale a day
Oh, lordy
Pick a bale of cotton
Oh, lordy
Pick a bale a day
Oh, lordy
Pick a bale of cotton
Oh, lordy
Pick a bale a day
song performed by by ABBA
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whose Boot Is It Anyway?
Alone & footless,
Sideswiped on the highway,
South of Grand Canyon,
The boot weathers the rain.
Whose feet had felt its pain?
The absent man hurdled from a car,
Dead, now a ghost among the juniper flat.
Gone now, but a pariah to his own left boot's wall.
A bum, a hectic gambler, a heretic,
Or just some dozing motorist;
Another question remains;
Was the little white cross sticking out of the pavement
His? Or was that happenstance,
Laced up to the top, some unlikely chance?
No man is here.
Yet a man was there.
A man who lost his life & line,
Leaving one boot as a puzzle to find.
It gives me a chasm of a feeling,
& at 80 mph my mind is reeling,
Where in all this wilderness
Is the fellow with at least one bare foot
& what fate did he meet?
poem by Stan Petrovich
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Boot That Supercool That You Do
Whatcha gonna do with your supercool?
When the scooting of satisfaction scats.
Will you pack it to be shipped away?
Or will you hang it to dust,
On a rack.
When the need to attract,
Lacks.
Then whatcha gonna do with your supercool?
When the flaunting of it needs to...
Sit back,
And...
Relax.
Whatcha gonna do with your supercool?
And have you given thought to that?
It's sad to see a rusting swagger.
Outdated and fading quick.
Yes it's sad to see a rusting swagger.
Doing it's best to be hip...
Limping through it!
So...
Whatcha gonna do with your supercool?
When the scooting of satisfaction scats.
Will you pack it to be shipped away?
Or will you hang it to dust,
On a rack.
When the need to attract,
Lacks.
Whatcha gonna do,
With your supercool?
You need to sit back and relax.
No need for you to prove that you've been supercool.
You need to sit back and relax.
Whatcha gonna do,
With your supercool?
You need to sit back and relax.
No need for you to prove that you've been supercool.
You need to sit back and relax.
You need to boot it and be through.
Sit back,
And relax.
You need to boot it and be through.
Sit back,
And relax.
There's nothing more that you can prove.
Sit back,
And relax.
Boot that supercool that you do,
And be through.
Sit back,
And relax.
Give the boot to what you're doing,
And be through.
Sit back,
And relax.
Give the boot to what you're doing,
And be through.
Sit back,
And relax.
Boot that supercool that you do,
And be through.
Sit back,
And relax.
Boot-that-supercool...
And be through.
Sit back,
And relax.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cop A Cool
Squeeze out the seeking,
You hold onto too tight.
And boot it to the curb,
With a stiff kick done.
Don't keep something held,
Until it makes you uptight.
Boot it to the curb,
With a stiff kick done.
Boot it to the curb,
Until that battle has been won.
Squeeze out the seeking that you hold onto.
Cop a cool and be swift with it.
Don't sit to drift into an attitude.
Get up, be hip and do it quick.
Cop a cool and be done with all you've been through.
Squeeze out the seeking that you hold onto.
Cop a cool and be swift with it.
Don't sit to drift into an attitude.
Boot it with a stiff kick done...
Until that battle has been successfully won!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Admittedly, a homosexual can be conditioned to react sexually to a woman, or to an old boot for that matter. In fact, both homo - and heterosexual experimental subjects have been conditioned to react sexually to an old boot, and you can save a lot of money that way.
quote by William S. Burroughs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Can Boot A Droop
I can move from a mood that I've been brooding.
But I don't know why,
I can't give it up!
No...
I can move from a mood that I've been brooding.
And I will defy...
I'm in a rut and stuck up.
I can boot a droop.
And pooh pooh who I choose to leave.
I can fly from any coop.
And still enjoy my own company.
Hey...
I'm in no rut or stuck up,
Since I've got with me a rudder.
And...
I can boot a droop.
And choose to pooh pooh who I leave.
Hey...
I'm in no rut or stuck up,
Since I've got with me a rudder.
And...
I can boot a droop.
And choose to pooh pooh who I leave.
I said...I said...I said and able,
I can boot a droop...
And choose to pooh pooh who I leave.
I can move from a mood that I've been brooding.
But I don't know why,
I can't give it up!
But I can boot a droop and choose to pooh pooh,
Whom I please.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lines On H---'s Foot
It may be you've seen her eyes,
Dark and deep like midnight skies;
You mayhap have seen them flash
Underneath the drooping lash,
And been dazzled by the light
Of those orbs, so dark and bright;
But-have you seen her foot,
In its little gaiter boot?
You have noticed, maybe, how
The lily spreads from chin to brow.
You have thought her cheek more fair
Than if roses lingered there;
(Roses would seem out of place
On her pale patrician face)
But-again I question you,
Have you seen her tiny shoe?
You have thought her mouth, no doubt,
Like a blush-rose half blown out;
Small and sweet, withal, beside,
Touched with scorn and curved with pride;
(Innate pride-not meant to chill)-
You have seen it there, and still-
Answer one more question, pray-
Have you seen her boot? I say.
Such a tiny, tiny thing,
Is that foot of which I sing;
No. 3 would hide it so
It could not be found, I know.
No. 2 must stand aside
All too long and large and wide,
No. 1
must
be the boot
For this maiden's little foot.
You may envy, sir, the clerk
In the shoe-store, hard at work,
Who tries the gaiter boot
On this cunning little foot.
On his knee, supporting it,
Saying, 'It's a perfect fit,'
Buttoning on the No. 1,
Looking sorry, when it's done.
You have seen her, slight and neat,
As she tripped along the street,
You have
heard
the pit-pat-fall
Of that foot so very small.
That she's fair, and pure, and good,
Bright, and sweet is understood,
But-have you
seen
that foot-
In its dainty gaiter boot?
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Is Bliss then, such Abyss
340
Is Bliss then, such Abyss,
I must not put my foot amiss
For fear I spoil my shoe?
I'd rather suit my foot
Than save my Boot—
For yet to buy another Pair
Is possible,
At any store—
But Bliss, is sold just once.
The Patent lost
None buy it any more—
Say, Foot, decide the point—
The Lady cross, or not?
Verdict for Boot!
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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