If I had eight hours to chop down a tree, I'd spend six sharpening my axe.
quote by Abraham Lincoln
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I had eight hours to chop down a tree, I'd spend six hours sharpening my ax.
quote by Abraham Lincoln
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Give me six hours to chop down a tree and I will spend the first four sharpening the axe.
quote by Abraham Lincoln
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chop, Chop, Chop
Some people call me the Creeper
'Cuz they don't know my name or face
I got 'em running in circles
Because a homicidal genius never leaves a trace
I'm a lonely hunter
City full of game
Walkin' in the neon lights
Chop, chop, chop, engine of destruction
Chop, chop, chop, a perfect killing machine
Chop, chop, chop, it's a symbiotic function
Chop, chop, chop, I keep the city so clean
Chop, chop, chop
Some people call me the Ripper
Stole my modus operandi from the movie screen
She's just a celluloid stripper
Just another bloody player in my splatter-filled dream
Women on the streets
Want money when we meet
I take them for a little ride
Chop, chop, chop, engine of destruction
Chop, chop, chop, a perfect killing machine
Chop, chop, chop, it's symbiotic function
Chop, chop, chop, I keep the city so clean
Chop, chop, chop
She was standing on the corner
With her bright red lips
Her face was so white and pale (so pale)
She had a black leather skirt
That was tight to her hips
And an anklet with a name
It spelled M A R Y..... Gail
Gail Gail Gail Gail
Gail Gail Gail Gail
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pork Chops are Fun
chop chop chop the pork squeals over dinner
with it's fatty bits and tasty bites
it marinates on a stick over hot coal
who will taste it first who will finish the bowl
Wow Pork Chops with red wine
then dinner will be divine
chop chop chop the pork is done
with ginger, wine and lots of fun
it's time to have with a salty bun
chop chop chop see it go in the oven my friends
it's dinner time lets eat it all
then lets sit together and have a ball
chop chop chop the pork tastes good
with the meat so tender it bloody weel should
sometimes on the pan sometimes as a roast
call your freinds for dinner it's a dish one can boast
chop chop chop the pork is done
sprikle a little wine to make things bright
then the meat put it on light
watch it burn and tremble with delight
chop chop chop my pork chops are done
poem by Anuj Tikku
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poke Chop Sandwich
(about lightnin hopkins drummer who used to keep a porkchop sandwich on his floor tom, for snacking during the breaks. recorded with hopkins drummer, spider, present in the studio.)
Poke
Better watch that
Poke chop sandwichwaitin in th? sack
Ridin a tom tom, a double fat back
Got my poke chop sandwich? /p>
Layin on da drum
Poke chop greazyIm gonna get some
Get some a? dat poke chop
Poke chop sandwich
Poke chop
Poke chop sandwich
Yeah yeah twenty five
Louisiana back beat and th? texas bop
Do a hollywood shuffle jes? cant top it
New york turn around and
Th? london stomp
African good luck combination
I know that ya want
Poke chop
Poke chop sandwich
Poke chop
Double poke chop sandwich
Play on
Spider & lightnin hopkins got
Th? big bad beat
Aint no question what they gonna eat
Spider wanna a bottle,
Lightnin? wanna a can
Theyll take in a bucket
cause they dam well can
A poke chop
A poke at dat chop
Cut dat poke chope
Poke chop sandwich
Feel like, I feel like a poke chop sandwich
Give me dat sandwich in wax paper
Pork chop sandwich
song performed by by ZZ Top
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Axeman
High on the hills, where the tall trees grow,
There lives an axeman that 1 know.
From his little hut by a ferny creek,
Day after day, week after week,
He goes each morn with his shining axe,
Trudging along by the forest tracks;
And he chops and he chops till the daylight goes
High on the hills, where the blue-gum grows.
(Chip! . . Chop! . . Chip! . . Chop!)
There's a log to move and a branch to lop.
Now to the felling! His sharp axe bites
Into a tree on the forest heights,
And scarce for a breath does the axeman stop-
(Chip! . . Chop! . . Chip! . . Chop!)
Bell-birds watch him; and in the fern
Wallabies listen awhile, and turn
Back through the bracken, and off they hop.
(Chip! . . Chop! . . Chip! . -. Chop!)
Patient and tireless, blow on blow
The axeman swings as the minutes go;
While the echoes ring from the mountain-top.
(Chip! . . Chop! . . Chip! . . Chop!)
Round about him the. rabbits play,
Skipping and scampering all the day,
And the sweet young grass by the logs they crop.
(Chip! . . Chop! . . Chip! . . Chop!)
Crimson parrots above him climb,
The Axeman
Chattering, chattering all the time,
As down from the branches the twigs they drop.
(Chip! . . Chop! . . Chip! Chop!)
Steadily, surely, on he goes,
Shaking the tree with his mighty blows:
There's never a pause and there's never a stop.
(Chip! . . Chop! . . Chip! . . Chop!)
Out from the bush beyond is heard
The swaggering song of the butcher-bird
Seeking a joint for his butcher's shop.
(Chip! . . Chop! . . Chip! . . Chop!)
Deeper and deeper the cut creeps in,
While the parrots shriek with a deafening din,
And the chips fly out with a flip and a flop.
(Chip! Chop! Chip! Chop!)
Yellow robins come flocking round,
Watching the chips as they fall to ground,
Darting to catch the g ubs that drop.
(Chip! . . Chop! . . Chip! . . Chop!)
The blows come quicker. The axe~biade hums,
Stand well back, there, before she comes!
Hark! How the splinters crack and pop-
(Chip! . . Chop! . . Chip! . . Chop!)
Listen! Listen! She's creaking now!
Look, high up, at that trembling bough!
Another second, and down she'll smash,
Shaking the earth with a mighty crash;
Look at her! Look at her! (Chip! Chop!
Chip! . . . . . . . .Chip!)
Wee - E - E - E - E - E --
FLOP!
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Choppin' Wood
(Van Morrison)
You wired the trains and went back home to St. Claire's shores
Before you became a spark down at the yard
You were passing through those hungry years alone
You were just trying to make a living out in Detroit
When you came back off the boats you didn't want to go anywhere
You sit down to TV in your favourite chair
You watch the big picture fade away down at Harland and Wolff
But you still kept on choppin' wood
And you came back home to Belfast
So you could be with us like
You lived your life of quiet desperation on the side
Going to the shipyard in the morning on your bike
Well the spark was gone but you carried on
You always did the best you could
You sent for us once but everything fell through
But you still kept on choppin' wood choppin' wood
Well you came back home to Belfast
So you could be with us like
And you lived a life of quiet desperation on the side
Going to the shipyard in the morning on your bike
WeIl the spark was gone but you carried on
Well you did just the best that you could
You sent for us one time but everything fell through
But you still kept on choppin' wood
Kept on choppin'wood
Kept on choppin' wood
Local man chops wood
You know you did the best you could
Well everything just fell through
Kept on choppin' wood
Chop, chop, chop, chop, chop,
Chop, chop, chop, chop, chop,
Chop, chop, chop, keep on choppin'
Chop, chop, chop, choppin' wood
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Video Crime
Aint got room for charity
Skeletons man
Me, Im crawling with no cash
Chop it up
Me, Im looking for hot flesh
Chop it up
This skeletons mine
Chop it up
Chop it up
Blood on video-video crime
Video crime
Needles and pins and video crime
Video crime
Ive got dollars-Ive got sense
Wonder where the third world went
Aint got time for honeymoon
Chop it up
Trash time bundy, death row chic
Chop it up
Haunt this street from half past ten
Chop it up
Blood on video-video crime
Video crime
Needles and pins and video crime
Video crime
Late night cannibal-cripples decay
Just cant tear my eyes away
Aint got no room for charity
This skeletons mine
Aint got room for hollywood
Chop it up
Me, Im crawling with no cash
Chop it up
Blood on video-video crime
Video crime
Needles and pins and video crime
Video crime
Ive got dollars Ive got sense
Wonder where the third world went
Video crime
Chop it up
Video crime
Chop it up
Video crime
Chop it up
Video crime
Chop it up
Video crime
Chop it up
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sing, Song, Swing
Choppity chop chop, chop chopsticks
Choppity chop chop, chop till six
Choppity chop chop, chops the thing
When charlie chingee make his sing song swing
Charlie ching
Make his sing song swing
With a tingaling
On the ding dong ding
With a tingaling on the ding dong ding
Makee plenty sing song swing
Choppity chop chop, chop chopsticks
Choppity chop chop, chop till six
Choppity chop chop, chops the thing
When charlie chingee make his sing song swing
Foo yung foo
Makee doodle-doo
With a toot or two
On the flute bamboo
And the doodle-doo and the tingaling
Makee plenty sing song swing
Choppity chop chop, chop chopsticks
Choppity chop chop, chop till six
Choppity chop chop, chops the thing
When charlie chingee make his sing song swing
{instrumental interlude}
{scat}
And a tingaling on the ding dong ding
Makee plenty sing song swing
Chop chop choppity, chop chopsticks
Chop chop choppity, chop till six
Choppity chop chop, chops the thing
When charlie chingee make his sing song swing
Choppa choppa choppity, chop chopsticks
Choppity choppity, chop till six
Choppity chop chop, chops the thing
When charlie chingee make his swing
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I can spend hours in a grocery store. I get so excited when I see food, I go crazy. I spend hours arranging my baskets so that everything fits in and nothing gets squashed. I'm really anal about it, actually.
quote by Cameron Diaz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At first, I spend about four hours a day writing. Toward the end of a book, I spend up to 16 hours a day on it, because all I want to do is make it good and get it done.
quote by Tracy Kidder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dirty Old Town
(ewan mccoll)
Found my love by the gaswork croft
Dreamed a dream by the old canalkissed my girl by the factory wall
Dirty old town, dirty old towni heard a siren from the dock
Saw a train set the night on firesmelled the spring on the sulfured wind
Dirty old town, whoa-oh, dirty old townwere goin to take a good sharp axe
Shining steel tempered in the fireand well chop you down like an old dead tree
Dirty old town, dirty old towndirty old town, whoa-oh, dirty old town
And oh well chop you downoh, dirty, dirty, dirty old town
Dirty old town, dirty old townand oh whoa-oh dirty old town
Chop you down one of these days
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Green Grow the Rashes
Green grow the rashes, O
Green grow the rashes, O
The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,
Are spent among the lasses, O
There's nought but care on ev'ry han',
In every hour that passes, O
What signifies the life o' man,
An' 'twere na for the lasses, O.
Green grow the rashes, O
Green grow the rashes, O
The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,
Are spent among the lasses, O
The warl'y race may riches chase,
An' riches still may fly them, O
An' tho' at last they catch them fast,
Their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O.
Green grow the rashes, O
Green grow the rashes, O
The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,
Are spent among the lasses, O
But gie me a cannie hour at e'en,
My arms about my dearie, O,
An' warl'y cares an' war'ly men
May a' gae tapsalteerie, O!
Green grow the rashes, O
Green grow the rashes, O
The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,
Are spent among the lasses, O
For you sae douce, ye sneer at this
Ye're nought but senseless asses, O
The wisest man the warl' e'er saw,
He dearly lov'd the lasses, O.
Green grow the rashes, O
Green grow the rashes, O
The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,
Are spent among the lasses, O
Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears
Her noblest work she classes, O
Her prentice han' she try'd on man,
An' then she made the lasses, O.
Green grow the rashes, O
Green grow the rashes, O
The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,
Are spent among the lasses, O
poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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They're To Succeed
Passing by they stopped and parked
Such lovely blossom seems so sweet.
Gladly indeed they thought it's a treat
They rushed in! Out came a swarm of bees
The bees cried chop, cho. They're a happy fleet
They watched them keep busy around the tree.
In this world of ours, it there wild world.
Funny these people never stopped to ask
They've to achieved between those tree.
God provided and restored life indeed
All on there own enjoying the breeze around the tree.
Know hand out stretched in the tree
They roam through the field to succeed
Move from three to tree to fulfill their needs
Stopped in all most every tree they meet
They have to survive on the ground to the tree.
poem by Delores V. Bogle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To be the best, you need to spend hours and hours and hours running, hitting the speed bag, lifting weights and focusing on training.
quote by Sugar Ray Leonard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Specialty
Dont chop off his head
To make yourself look tall
Dont tear a strip off
To make yourself feel wonderful
Who wants to compare
As if this was a competition
Leave that to teachers at school
Must preserve their tradition
bout time you realized
You are a specialty
There is no one like you
Spend your life worrying
bout what you could have been
Cant you like being you
Dont need a scalp
Dont need to be a juror
Take care of yourself
No need to feel so insecure
Waste of energy
To prove a holier than him
Waste of energy
To find out who commits what sin
bout time you realized
You are a specialty
There is no one like you
Spend your life worrying
bout what could have been
Cant you like being you
Dont chop off his head ...
bout time you realized ...
song performed by by Howard Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You must chop down the tree that gives too much or too little shade.
A Girdle Round The Earth - I Fly, Master!
Right now, there are near 5,000 visitors on this site.
Let's suppose
you spend 8 hours a day surfing the web
and 8 hours sleeping
and 8 hours doing stuff
that's, er,15,000 readers of one / lots of / poem(s) every suncircle.
And we thought Shakespeare's Puck and Ariel were fiction?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Willow Tree (…from “1001 Very Short Fairytales”, Story #97)
There was this little willow tree,
That lived for many seasons;
It had its branches wild and free,
Without giving any reasons.
Then this woodsman came along
And said to the tree, it just couldn't
Have these wild branches,
He would have to chop them all away,
But the little willow tree just wouldn't
Give in;
So the woodsman,
Cut it down the very next day.
And now the forest has lost its soul,
Of everlasting wilderness
And beauty.
poem by Peter S. Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Red Palm
You're in this dream of cotton plants.
You raise a hoe, swing, and the first weeds
Fall with a sigh. You take another step,
Chop, and the sigh comes again,
Until you yourself are breathing that way
With each step, a sigh that will follow you into town.
That's hours later. The sun is a red blister
Coming up in your palm. Your back is strong,
Young, not yet the broken chair
In an abandoned school of dry spiders.
Dust settles on your forehead, dirt
Smiles under each fingernail.
You chop, step, and by the end of the first row,
You can buy one splendid fish for wife
And three sons. Another row, another fish,
Until you have enough and move on to milk,
Bread, meat. Ten hours and the cupboards creak.
You can rest in the back yard under a tree.
Your hands twitch on your lap,
Not unlike the fish on a pier or the bottom
Of a boat. You drink iced tea. The minutes jerk
Like flies.
It's dusk, now night,
And the lights in your home are on.
That costs money, yellow light
In the kitchen. That's thirty steps,
You say to your hands,
Now shaped into binoculars.
You could raise them to your eyes:
You were a fool in school, now look at you.
You're a giant among cotton plants.
Now you see your oldest boy, also running.
Papa, he says, it's time to come in.
You pull him into your lap
And ask, What's forty times nine?
He knows as well as you, and you smile.
The wind makes peace with the trees,
The stars strike themselves in the dark.
You get up and walk with the sigh of cotton plants.
You go to sleep with a red sun on your palm,
The sore light you see when you first stir in bed.