Another nice thing was that I would type out letters home for the admiral's stewards. They would then feed me the same food the admiral ate.
quote by Jack Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Admiral Death
Boys, are ye calling a toast to-night?
(Hear what the sea-wind saith)
Fill for a bumper strong and bright,
And here's to Admiral Death!
He's sailed in a hundred builds o' boat,
He's fought in a thousand kinds o' coat,
He's the senior flag of all that float,
And his name's Admiral Death!
Which of you looks for a service free?
(Hear what the sea-wind saith)
The rules o' the service are but three
When ye sail with Admiral Death.
Steady your hand in time o' squalls,
Stand to the last by him that falls,
And answer clear to the voice that calls,
'Ay, Ay! Admiral Death!'
How will ye know him among the rest?
(Hear what the sea-wind saith)
By the glint o' the stars that cover his breast
Ye may find Admiral Death.
By the forehead grim with an ancient scar,
By the voice that rolls like thunder far,
By the tenderest eyes of all that are,
Ye may know Admiral Death.
Where are the lads that sailed before?
(Hear what the sea-wind saith)
Their bones are white by many a shore,
They sleep with Admiral Death.
Oh! but they loved him, young and old,
For he left the laggard, and took the bold,
And the fight was fought, and the story's told,
And they sleep with Admiral Death.
poem by Sir Henry Newbolt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sex Type Drug
Just take it nice and slow
Like jelly in a mould (singin')
Dressed in a perfect skin
You're like a manequin
Woo hoo, oo hoo, you're a sex type drug
Woo hoo, oo hoo, you're the real thing
Woo hoo, oo hoo, you're a sex type drug
Woo hoo, oo hoo, you're the real thing
Just need to make you see
Perfection is a sin, yeah
Just feed you like a dog
Just wanna hear you come
Woo hoo, oo hoo, you're a sex type drug
Woo hoo, oo hoo, you're the real thing
Woo hoo, oo hoo, you're a sex type drug
Woo hoo, oo hoo, you're the real thing
Sex type thing
Oh yeah, yeah, yeah
You feed me like a drug
I lick you up and swallow
Woo hoo, oo hoo, you're a sex type drug
Woo hoo, oo hoo, you're the real thing
Woo hoo, oo hoo, you're a sex type drug
Woo hoo, oo hoo, you're the real thing
Woo hoo, oo hoo, you're a sex type drug
Woo hoo, oo hoo, you're the real thing
Woo hoo, oo hoo, you're a sex type drug
Woo hoo, oo hoo, you're the real thing
song performed by by Feeder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In this country it is a good thing to kill an admiral from time to time to encourage the others.
"That is indisputable," was the answer, "but in this country it is a good thing to kill an admiral from time to time to encourage the others."
quote by Voltaire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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With Drake in the Tropics
South and far south below the Line,
Our Admiral leads us on,
Above, undreamed-of planets shine--
The stars we know are gone.
Around, our clustered seamen mark
The silent deep ablaze
With fires, through which the far-down shark
Shoots glimmering on his ways.
The sultry tropic breezes fail
That plagued us all day through;
Like molten silver hangs our sail,
Our decks are dark with dew.
Now the rank moon commands the sky.
Ho! Bid the watch beware
And rouse all sleeping men that lie
Unsheltered in her glare.
How long the time 'twixt bell and bell!
How still our lanthorns burn!
How strange our whispered words that tell
Of England and return!
Old towns, old streets, old friends, old loves,
We name them each to each,
While the lit face of Heaven removes
Them farther from our reach.
Now is the utmost ebb of night
When mind and body sink,
And loneliness and gathering fright
O'erwhelm us, if we think--
Yet, look, where in his room apart,
All windows opened wide,
Our Admiral thrusts away the chart
And comes to walk outside.
Kindly, from man to man he goes,
With comfort, praise, or jest,
Quick to suspect our childish woes,
Our terror and unrest.
It is as though the sun should shine--
Our midnight fears are gone!
South and far south below the Line,
Our Admiral leads us on!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Three Kings of Chickeraboo
There were three niggers of Chickeraboo -
PACIFICO, BANG-BANG, POPCHOP - who
Exclaimed, one terribly sultry day,
"Oh, let's be kings in a humble way."
The first was a highly-accomplished "bones,"
The next elicited banjo tones,
The third was a quiet, retiring chap,
Who danced an excellent break-down "flap."
"We niggers," said they, "have formed a plan
By which, whenever we like, we can
Extemporise kingdoms near the beach,
And then we'll collar a kingdom each.
"Three casks, from somebody else's stores,
Shall represent our island shores,
Their sides the ocean wide shall lave,
Their heads just topping the briny wave.
"Great Britain's navy scours the sea,
And everywhere her ships they be;
She'll recognise our rank, perhaps,
When she discovers we're Royal Chaps.
"If to her skirts you want to cling,
It's quite sufficient that you're a king;
She does not push inquiry far
To learn what sort of king you are."
A ship of several thousand tons,
And mounting seventy-something guns,
Ploughed, every year, the ocean blue,
Discovering kings and countries new.
The brave REAR-ADMIRAL BAILEY PIP,
Commanding that magnificent ship,
Perceived one day, his glasses through,
The kings that came from Chickeraboo.
"Dear eyes!" said ADMIRAL PIP, "I see
Three flourishing islands on our lee.
And, bless me! most remarkable thing!
On every island stands a king!
"Come, lower the Admiral's gig," he cried,
"And over the dancing waves I'll glide;
That low obeisance I may do
To those three kings of Chickeraboo!"
The Admiral pulled to the islands three;
The kings saluted him graciousLEE.
The Admiral, pleased at his welcome warm,
Unrolled a printed Alliance form.
"Your Majesty, sign me this, I pray -
I come in a friendly kind of way -
I come, if you please, with the best intents,
And QUEEN VICTORIA'S compliments."
The kings were pleased as they well could be;
The most retiring of the three,
In a "cellar-flap" to his joy gave vent
With a banjo-bones accompaniment.
The great REAR-ADMIRAL BAILEY PIP
Embarked on board his jolly big ship,
Blue Peter flew from his lofty fore,
And off he sailed to his native shore.
ADMIRAL PIP directly went
To the Lord at the head of the Government,
Who made him, by a stroke of a quill,
BARON DE PIPPE, OF PIPPETONNEVILLE.
The College of Heralds permission yield
That he should quarter upon his shield
Three islands, VERT, on a field of blue,
With the pregnant motto "Chickeraboo."
Ambassadors, yes, and attaches, too,
Are going to sail for Chickeraboo.
And, see, on the good ship's crowded deck,
A bishop, who's going out there on spec.
And let us all hope that blissful things
May come of alliance with darky kings,
And, may we never, whatever we do,
Declare a war with Chickeraboo!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Earth's Call for Responsible Stewards
It is calling for compassion
It is calling for responsible hands
It is calling for stewards,
stewards to see and listen,
stewards to learn and act,
stewards to protect and love.
The earth is crying,
crying over destruction
in her hills and mountains,
fields, valleys and air,
seas, lakes and rivers,
plants, animals and humans.
The earth is calling
men, women, youth and
children to do their share
as stewards: responsible stewards
of what has been entrusted
from the beginning of time.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Admiral. That part of a warship which does the talking while the figurehead does the thinking.
quote by Ambrose Bierce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ford used to come to work in a big car with two Admiral's flags, on each side of the car. His assistant would be there with his accordion, playing, Hail to the Chief.
quote by Richard Widmark
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Food is god
Food is god
for poor people...!
God is not
Only food...
Rich home
Dog is eat
Nice food...
That food is god...?
yes that also
A god...
Good food is
God...
What is good food...?
Given good health
Always good food...
So...
Non veg
Or veg...
Every good food
Is god...
Simply sit
Silentely eat food
With out hot
And cool drinks...
Food is not only
Poor's god...
With each and
Every one also
food is god...
Give respect and
Take food...
Happley too try too
Thank for god...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Syrup Sponge
Pour a pint of cream
Upon my spongy bulge!
Scoop me with a
Hefty spoon;
Taste my essence -
Do you swoon?
Feed your self-esteem; indulge
In me until you burst -
Death by syrup sponge - you're cursed!
And as the count in inches gain
Upon your weary waist, the strain
Will tell, but you'll not care -
Steeped in sponge, you're unaware!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food
food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Secretary of Defense is not a super General or Admiral. His task is to exercise civilian control over the Department for the Commander-in-Chief and the country.
quote by Donald Rumsfeld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In this country England it is well to kill from time to time an admiral to encourage the others.
The nearest the modern general or admiral comes to a small-arms encounter of any sort is at a duck hunt in the company of corporation executives at the retreat of Continental Motors, Inc.
quote by C. Wright Mills
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The admiral, or commander in chief of a squadron, being frequently invested with a great charge, on which the fate of a kingdom may depend, ought certainly to be possessed of abilities equal to so important a station and so extensive a command.
quote by William Falconer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is a curious fact that when we get sick we want an uncommon doctor... When we get into a war, we dreadfully want an uncommon admiral and an uncommon general. Only when we get into politics are we content with the common man.
quote by Herbert Clark Hoover
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Please feed my daughter
It's been a long time since we've had food and water.
I don't care about myself but please feed my daughter.
I hate to inconvenience you or to intrude.
But my daughter will die if she doesn't gets some food.
She's a sweet girl who is adorable and her heart is pure.
My entire world will collapse if anything happens to her.
I asked others for food but they all said no.
They didn't give a damn and that was pretty low.
I'm willing to do some work around your house if you'll spare a meal.
I'll do anything to feed my daughter except steal.
I lost my home and my job and I'll appreciate any food that you'll give her.
If she dies, I want to die too because life won't be worth living unless I'm with her.
poem by Randy Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Incorrectly Plugged
Admiral Teutenberg, Teutonic Titan Rear Admiral
claims R34-million+ per year is needed to operate
South Africa's fleet of three submarines stranded
in dry dock for operational repairs
Author Andrew Feinstein cries foul play, saying
dubious quality equipment was sold at inflated
prices-yet Commander Handsome Matsane's
officers on the submarine called:
The SAS Queen Modjadji claim they did not even
notice when they struck the ocean floor and the
SAS Manthatisi crashed into a quoy damaging
the steering mechanism - while -
An incorrectly plugged power cable into the power-
supply on shore caused damages, looks like human
error caused the Modjadji bump and the Manthatisi
crash into a quoy, doesn't it?
Feinstein might find blame in the personnel operating
high-tech submarines produced in Germany - this is
also applicable to the complaints of Greece and
Portugal, I would speculate…
Summary and Quotes From article 'High ‘N Dry' by
Robby Jordan, in the Sunday Times 12 August 2012
on p.1
poem by Margaret Alice Second
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Way No Way Blues
I am not rich
And I can't afford to feed all the homeless in Toronto
But there is food banks that they can go and get some food to eat
So that they do'n t starve
But the homeless instead of going to the food bank they stay in the streets
Of home and begs for money at the streets of home
But I don't give money because I know that they are not going to use it for Food but they will use it to buy alcohol and destroy their liver in no Time
What ashame
And for that I say no way no way
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Death, Is A Pirate...
Death, Is A Pirate
Who, Plunders Our Treasure
In Stolen Lives
And Grief, Without Measure
Death, Raids The Waters
Of All Humankind
Death, Is The Thief
Who Treads Our Time
His Cannonballs Blast
Dreams To Oblivion
His Skull and Crossbones
Raze Horizons
Death, Sails The Seas
Of All Mortal Beings
The Dreaded Sea King’s
Patch-Eye … Is Seeking
And Boot-Leg To Loot
Our Lagoons Of Love
Death Is Looking To Fill
His Deadman’s Chest Of:
... Gems Of Light
Jewels Of Laughter
The Family’s Gold and Silver …
Death, Is After
Death’s Salty Water
Crusts Our Ships’ Hold
Anchors Our Hopes
Plunge Cutlass To Souls
… Divides ill-gotten-gains
With Greedy Hands
As His Shipwreck Spoil
Reach No- Man’s-Land
Death, Is A Pirate
Who Takes Great Pleasure
To Turn Our Riches
Into Buried Treasure
But An Admiral Of Mercy
With The Flag Of The Son! ….
Will Blow Death’s Fleet
To Kingdom Come!
And Barricade Stronghold
With A Mighty Command
To Unearth The Wealth
Of The Lost Treasure Island
* * *
Death, As A Pirate
Was Put To Rest
By The Almighty Admiral
His Name, We Bless
Written & ©: 5/24/10
By: The MoonBee
poem by MoonBee Canady
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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