Things at home are crossways, and Betsy and I are out.
quote by Will Carleton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ballad Of Ole Betsy
Betsy, betsy, ahhhhh
She was born in 32, and was she ever pretty
She rode a freight train west, all the way from detroit city
Betsys seen more places than Ill ever hope to see
Betsys been more loyal than any friend could be
With some she traveled fast, with others it was slow
Betsys seen them all, shed seen them come and go
She must have had some others before I finally met her
And now that shes all mine, theyd better just forget her
Betsy was a lady and that she will remain
Betsy took some beatings but she never once complained
She had a classic beauty that everyone could see
I was the last to meet her, but she gave her life to me
She may be rusted iron, but to me shes solid gold
And I just cant hold the tears back
cause betsys growing old
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm Sick Of You
I'm sick of you ( Pop / Williamson )
Goodbye Betsy im goin' away
I'm sick of you and there aint no way
Dont want to know, dont want to see
Dont you ever bother me
Sick of hanging around your pad
Sick of your Mom and sick of your Dad
Yeah and Betsy,
its sad but true,
now im even sick of you.
No way, no way, no way
No way, no way, no way
No way, for our love
No way for our love
Cuz im sick of You.
Good bye Betsy im going away.
Sick of you and i dont wanna stay
Dont want to know, dont want to see
Dont you ever bother me
Sick of hanging around your pad
Sick of your mom and sick of your Dad
Yes and Betsy its sad but true
Now im even sick of you.
No way, no way, no way
No way, no way, no way
No way, for our love,
No way for our love
Cuz im sick of you
Every evening and every day,
Seem to always turn out this way,
To get an end
I better find new love,
then you'll pay,
then youll pay,
aint no way.
Cuz im sick of you.
Goodbye Betsy im going away,
Sick of you and i dont wanna stay
Dont want to know , dont want to see
dont you ever, bother me ....
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ballad Of Betsy
Betsy now pulls the cart towards sweet home that day
Her size makes pulling baby carts as mere child's play
She's huge, a Labrador, obtained from Russian friend
Trained by cop, we'll call Tim - that isn't his real name
Tim can slug between the eyes crooks across the street
His temper's short, but long the distance he'd shoot straight
His baby, Betsy pulls in cart as they would stroll
Today could be the day, she waits maternal call
So many pats, did Tim bestow on Betsy's head
As due reward for deeds of bravery she'd made
To Betsy it's worth all to life and what it brought
And with her newborn pups, she's bound for added worth
One fateful day, as Tim was out, the stork came in,
And for Betsy it looks like Fate did show her grin,
But as her seventh pup was out, a wolf came by
It bit the baby that so loud it now did cry
Still in maternity, she sprang to guard duty
To give battle, protect her tuft, succeed ably
She'd killed the wolf, at last, but not without its price
Bloodied and stained, she hardly moves from where she lies
But worse is for the fox that now nary is seen,
Concealed in undergrowth from where it once had been
The stench of death will fill the air in future days
Or else its rotted corpse thereat forever stays
As Tim arrives, she thought a pat would ease her pain
She whined a bit to point out to where she'd lain
Tim saw the baby bleeding red from dangling arm
And felt the matching blood on Betsy's face still warm
To Tim this meant a smoking gun that he has found
As victim and the culprit were all still around
Ten years of Police work taught him to act now fast
He struck at Betsy who just stared feeling aghast
The pat that Betsy yearned now came, but seemed too hard
It split her skull and felt as though there flew a shard
Her pups, too, Tim held nothing back, he game them all
She watched with mournful eyes as last of them did fall
She stared at Tim with eyes where now fresh blood had sprung
As if to say, "If you'd kill me, please spare my young, "
"I've only done the best I can, if not enough,
Then punish me, but please, let live a single pup."
Times that Tim's been judge, jury, executioner
Verdict's been slug between the eyes of whomever
A welcome thought for Betsy to befall that fate
When life has got more stings than even Death itself
Betsy now moves hardly from where she lies
It's been a year ago, yet Tim secretly cries
Her bones nary will know why man could make those slips
Or why often heroes would die in sinking ships.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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Sea Ballad - From
“HOW many?” said our good Captain.
“Twenty sail and more.”
We were homeward bound,
Scudding in a gale with our jib towards the Nore.
Right athwart our tack,
The foe came thick and black,
Like Hell-birds and foul weather—you might count them by the score.
The Betsy Jane did slack
To see the game in view.
They knew the Union-Jack,
And the tyrant’s flag we knew!
Our Captain shouted “Clear the decks!” and the Bo’sun’s whistle blew.
Then our gallant Captain,
With his hand he seiz’d the wheel,
And pointed with his stump to the middle of the foe.
“Hurray, lads, in we go!”
(You should hear the British cheer,
Fore and aft.)
“There are twenty sail,” sang he,
“But little Betsy Jane bobs to nothing on the sea!”
(You should hear the British cheer,
Fore and aft.)
“See you ugly craft
With the pennon at her main!
Hurrah, my merry boys,
There goes the Betsy Jane!”
(You should hear the British cheer,
Fore and aft.)
The foe, he beats to quarters, and the Russian bugles sound;
And the little Betsy Jane she leaps upon the sea.
“Port and starboard!” cried our Captain;
“Pay it in, my hearts!” sang he.
“We ’re old England’s sons,
And we ’ll fight for her to-day!”
(You should hear the British cheer.
Fore and aft.)
“Fire away!”
In she runs,
And her guns
Thunder round.
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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We're not thoughtless empty-headed people who don't have memories anymore. But we are becoming particularly adept at remembering where to go find things. And that's kind of amazing.
Betsy Sparrow in Google Effects on Memory (2011)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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When I'm alone, I can sleep crossways in bed without an argument.
quote by Zsa Zsa Gabor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Did Not Build This House
I did not build this house alone
Upon foundations of folly
Wood floors have split and groan
Knotty planks creep
Out the front door
Beyond walls stretched
Over mossy stone
I did not build this house alone
The symbiots fed it
As they were nourished
Engorged like an unborn child
Who stretches and kicks it
Then, vacates it for a while
This house whose pathways
Were fed by blood and breath
Humming and pumping
Beating and strumming
Dancing the rhythm of life
and death.
I did not build this house
It has morphed and grown
Then alas, has shrunk again
as now I am alone.
Betsy Schreiber © 2009
poem by Betsy Schreiber
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Things Are Getting Better
Well I worked for a week and I got no pay.
(things getting better.)
Well my babys coming back home to stay
(things getting better.)
Well shes coming back home, but I havent got a dime
(things getting better.)
But Ive got my love to keep me fine[? ].
(things getting better.)
Oh-oh
Things getting better.
Things getting better.
Well since my babys been away,
(things getting better.)
Well things got worse from day to day.
(things getting better.)
Well now my babys come back to me.
(things getting better.)
Yeah, itll get better, wait and see.
(things getting better.)
Oh-oh
Things getting better.
Things getting better.
Oh-oh
Things getting better.
Things getting better.
Well I pawned my watch and I sold my car.
(things getting better.)
The money Ive got wouldnt get me far.
(things getting better.)
But I dont mind now that youve packed.
(things getting better.)
Its a fact, that
Things getting better.
Things getting better.
Oh-oh
Things getting better.
Things getting better.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Standing In the Clearest Rain
The clearest rain
trickles down my nose
And runs into the dry cracks
Through dripping hair
Seeps into my bones,
Reflecting lights flash ….red and white
Humming a silent incision
As they swing… white and red.
They sparkle in the droplets
winking secrets unseen
By the guilty bystanders
Who must look beyond
Their red and white and
Truncated fields of vision
While the clearest rain
And warm tunes dance
Red and white and
Swing white and red again
Whose beams bang
Out a jig on the tube
Then, leave an inky stain
On smoldering ice cubes
I stand immoble
While the clearest rain
Washes down the pain.
Betsy Schreiber (c) 2009 Glen Head, New York
poem by Betsy Schreiber
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Home Is Not Where The Heart Lies
Home is not where the heart lies.
Home is where there are too many sins to name.
Home is where I cry too many times.
Home has no meaning.
Home is where all of my woes lie.
Home has no love for me.
Home makes me sad.
Home I cannot stand.
Home is where I get picked on most.
Home is where I hate most.
Home I wish would disappear.
Home is only adding to more of my troubles.
Home is where all my family hates me.
Home is where my sister won’t leave me alone.
Home is where my step father won’t stop picking on me.
Home is where my mum won’t stop babying me.
Home is no longer home.
Home has too many things to think about.
Home has too many too many troubles.
Home is where I do secrets no-one knows about.
Home is where everyone lies.
Home is not where the heart lies.
poem by Ellie Parker
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When I'm 64
When I get home
Whoa-ho, whoa-ho,
I got a whole lot of things to tell her,
when I get home.
Come on, out of my way,
'cos I'm gonna see my baby today,
I've got a whole lot of things I've gotta say
to her.
Whoa-ho, whoa-ho,
I got a whole lot of things to tell her,
when I get home.
Come on if you please,
I've got no time for trivialities,
I've got a girl who's waiting home for me tonight.
Whoa-ho, whoa-ho,
I got a whole lot of things to tell her,
when I get home.
When I'm getting home tonight, I'm gonna
hold her tight.
I'm gonna love her till the cows come home,
I bet I'll love her more,
till I walk out that door
again.
Come on, let me through,
I've got so many things, I've got to do,
I've got no business being here with you
this way.
Whoa-ho, whoa-ho,
I've got a whole lot of things to tell her
when I get home - yeah.
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Story for Rose on the Midnight Flight to Boston
Until tonight they were separate specialties,
different stories, the best of their own worst.
Riding my warm cabin home, I remember Betsy's
laughter; she laughed as you did, Rose, at the first
story. Someday, I promised her, I'll be someone
going somewhere and we plotted it in the humdrum
school for proper girls. The next April the plane
bucked me like a horse, my elevators turned
and fear blew down my throat, that last profane
gauge of a stomach coming up. And then returned
to land, as unlovely as any seasick sailor,
sincerely eighteen; my first story, my funny failure.
Maybe Rose, there is always another story,
better unsaid, grim or flat or predatory.
Half a mile down the lights of the in-between cities
turn up their eyes at me. And I remember Betsy's
story, the April night of the civilian air crash
and her sudden name misspelled in the evening paper,
the interior of shock and the paper gone in the trash
ten years now. She used the return ticket I gave her.
This was the rude kill of her; two planes cracking
in mid-air over Washington, like blind birds.
And the picking up afterwards, the morticians tracking
bodies in the Potomac and piecing them like boards
to make a leg or a face. There is only her miniature
photograph left, too long now for fear to remember.
Special tonight because I made her into a story
that I grew to know and savor.
A reason to worry,
Rose, when you fix an old death like that,
and outliving the impact, to find you've pretended.
We bank over Boston. I am safe. I put on my hat.
I am almost someone going home. The story has ended.
poem by Anne Sexton
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When I Get Home
Whoa-ho, whoa-ho,
I got a whole lot of things to tell her,
When i get home.
Come on, out of my way,
'cause i'm gonna see my baby today,
I've got a whole lot of things i've gotta say
To her.
Whoa-ho, whoa-ho,
I got a whole lot of things to tell her,
When i get home.
Come on if you please,
I've got no time for trivialities,
I've got a girl who's waiting home for me tonight.
Whoa-ho, whoa-ho,
I got a whole lot of things to tell her,
When i get home.
When i'm getting home tonight, i'm gonna
Hold her tight.
I'm gonna love her till the cows come home,
I bet i'll love her more,
Till i walk out that door
Again.
Come on, let me through,
I've got so many things, i've got to do,
I've got no business being here with you
This way.
Whoa-ho, whoa-ho,
I've got a whole lot of things to tell her
When i get home - yeah.
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where is My Home?
Where is my home?
Full of ones that I love,
Where is my home?
As peaceful as dove.
Where is my home?
Filled with wonderful things,
Where is my home?
Where I see what life brings.
Where is my home?
Full of old things and new,
Where is my home?
Where we live, me and you.
Where is my home?
Whom do I love?
And is there really a God up above?
Where is my home?
poem by Linda Claire
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do You Know How Dangerous It Is?
*It is you who have placed,
Your denials on trial.
It is your doubts about truth,
You refused to accept.
And the existence of it in your mind,
Is not permitted with admission...
To seek a depth.
It is you who chose to sit and wait,
For that knocking on your door...
That came and now feared.
Is it too late?
To change a fate?
Yet it is you who allowed it to follow you home.
With declarations from you,
That in time it will disappear.
Like the noise from your neighbors.
But then a silence scares you to be alone.
And since it has not disappeared from you,
Fear has consumed every thought in your own atmosphere.
You can't even go to sleep at night,
Without feeling the presence of fear near.*
'Ahhhhhh.....! '
~WOMAN? What's wrong with you? ~
'I saw a shadow. It was there...
Right behind you! '
~Really?
And did it have slippers and pajamas on?
Carrying a beverage with snacks?
I'm coming from the kitchen.
More than likely that shadow belonged to me.
You want some chips and cookies?
Or just the chips? ~
'Do you know how dangerous it is?
To be eating at this time of night?
Go back!
You've left on the hall light.
And you talk about 'my' eating habits?
Did you set the alarm? '
~Maybe I wont have to if it falls to sleep! ~
'Oh you got jokes, huh?
It always pays to double check.
And today,
Three or four times aint enough! '
~How old are these cookies? ~
'What do you insinuate now? '
~You need to stop watching the news so much.
Or turn to another channel,
That doesn't glorify crime or vampire movies.~
*And now from the crime scene,
We have Betsy Moon with updates.
Betsy? You're looking good enough to eat this evening.*
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Today the American knight holds the commercial supremacy of the world.
quote by Betsy Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A lot of people think I'm that guy in 'Betsy's Wedding', but I'm not. What it is for me is that, on some level, I connect with the character emotionally.
quote by Anthony LaPaglia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Day Is Done
Do you like me?
Well I hope you do
Cause if you like me
Then I think Im gonna to have to like you too
Well share our things
And have some fun
Then well say goodbye
And go back home when the day is done
If you tell me
Ill tell you too
And well say the things
And do the things that lovers do
Well keep it to ourselves
We wont hurt no one
Then well say goodbye
And go back home when the day is done
Well carve our names
On a tree
Then well burn it down
So no one in the world will see
And well make love
While we watch the flame
Then well walk away
As if we never had no shame
Now we must hide
To be alone
And we cant say
Our sweet things on the telephone
If we cant stop
What weve begun
We should say goodbye
And go back home when the day is done
Do you still like me?
Well I hope you do
Cause if you still like me
Then I think Im gonna have to still like you
We shared our things
And had some fun
Now well say goodbye
And go back home when the day is done
Yeah, well say goodbye
And go back home while
We still have one
Lets say goodbye and go back home
Now the day is done
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Got To Get Home
I Got To Get Home
Like A Bird
I Just Want To Fly
And Own A Peace Of Mine
Somewhere Far Away
I Got To Get Home
Time Is Slipping Away From Me
Not telling How Far Am I From Home
I Got To Get Home
Every Things I Hold On To
Is Going Down,
Buried In This World
My Hopes And Dreams
And All Those Things
I Will Never See
Now I Am Drowning In My Tears
Shame I Am Going Down This Way
Oh Well
Life Is A Journey Not A Destination
There Is Still Tomorrow
But I Got To Get Home
Copyright 2006
poem by Lartin Konneh II
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They beheld a quaint spectacle: a gentleman, obviously an Englishman, approached, with the evident intention of reminding the Beauty of the night of her engagement to him, and claiming her, as it were, in the lion's jaws.
George Meredith in Diana of the Crossways (1897)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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