I want to be Robin to Bush's Batman.
quote by Dan Quayle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
My book is very wild. But you know during the period of BATMAN, that there were thousands of Batman and Robin costumes sold and these weren't just for kids.
Goodbat Nightman
God bless all policemen
and fighters of crime,
May thieves go to jail
for a very long time.
They've had a hard day
helping clean up the town,
Now they hang from the mantelpiece
both upside down.
A glass of warm blood
and then straight up the stairs,
Batman and Robin
are saying their prayers.
* * *
They've locked all the doors
and they've put out the bat,
Put on their batjamas
(They like doing that)
They've filled their batwater-bottles
made their batbeds,
With two springy battresses
for sleepy batheads.
They're closing red eyes
and they're counting black sheep,
Batman and Robin
are falling asleep.
poem by Roger McGough
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Bruce Wayne is Batman. He became Batman the instant his parents were murdered. Batman needs Bruce, however hollow that identity feels to him from time to time. Bruce keeps Batman human.
quote by Kevin Conroy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A locator, father and son
The way this little brown boy places
Himself under a noonday sun
Is aesthetic, in such a way
That his black hat shadows
His eyes like he is batman
And his father so fond of
Him feels so happy like
He is his buddy robin.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Gotham City (with english version)
Gotham City
Mas é preciso ser batman em gotham city,
É preciso ler gibi antigo e desfolhado,
Sendo morcego, não ser vampiro, ser beat,
Besouro caindo nos ouvidos deflorados.
Mas é preciso ser batman em gotham city,
Roncando o motor turbinado do bat-carro,
Gostar de Liszt, saber tudo e tudo cite!
Tomar copos de leite e não fumar cigarro!
Sendo o batman enfrento o coringa e o pingouin,
A sensual mulher gato que me arranha as pernas
E o peito e declara estranha paixão por mim!
Ter sempre ao meu lado um Robbin longe a tavernas;
É preciso ser batman em gothan city enfim,
Pra a luta ao som do rock, morar em caverna!
Gotham City
But is crave to be batman in gotham city,
Is crave to read old and defoliate comics,
Being bat, not to be vampire, being beat,
Beetle falling in the deflorated ears.
But is crave to be batman in gotham city,
Snoring the turbining motor of the bat-car,
To like Liszt, to know everything and everything cite!
To take milk cups and not to smoke cigarette!
Being batman I face coringa and pingouin,
the sensual woman cat that scratches me legs
and the chest and declares stranger passion for me!
To always have to my side a Robbin far the taverns;
She is crave to be batman in gothan city at last,
For the fight to the sound of the rock, to live in cave!
poem by Jayro Luna
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That Beating Of The Bush
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I have this 'thing' about honest and truth.
And those who become offended,
By declaring them too harsh to accept!
There has not been an experience I received,
I regretted with a wish to forget!
And those attempting to live their lives,
In pretense to deceive believing this is not deception...
Will always escape with excuses and alibis to make.
Charading as if...
No one recognizes,
Who is in masquerade.
And who amongst them fakes!
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
An honesty and truth spoken,
From deceivers is rare.
Those who deceive perceive...
Those who are direct and honest,
Are insensitive and do not care!
With a sharing of this mentality...
To those empathetic,
In a keeping of delusions...
Spared from despair!
But I know I'm not the only one...
Who elects to see,
Dishonesty from all people get up and leave.
I can't be!
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Batman Combats Oscar Wilde
“Are you serious? ” Frederick asked.
“Yes, Oscar Wilde, the writer”, George Batman said. “We had a conversation in the park.”
“Oh”, said Frederick. “Is he not dead? ”
“We had a conversation in the park”, Batman said.
“I see”, said Frederick.
“You remember that in The Picture of Dorian Gray Wilde argues that books cannot be moral or immoral, only well-written or badly written”, Batman commented.
“So? ”
“Well, I disagreed.”
“And why is that? ” Frederick inquired.
“Look. Wilde confuses content with style. A book with a moral message can either fail or excel in its stylistic presentation, and so can a book with immoral content.”
“I see”, said Frederick. “So what happened? ”
“Nothing special”, Batman said. “We continued to argue. I told Oscar that I am not impressed with some of his witty dictums.”
“Oh”, Frederick said. “What did Wilde say? ”
“He wanted to hear examples”, Batman said.
“Did you give him? ”
“Yes, of course. I started with the ‘The truth is rarely pure, and never simple’, from The Importance of Being Earnest.”
“What is wrong with that? ” Frederick asked.
“I told Wilde that his purified statement is self-contradictory because it is so simple that it cannot be true”.
“I see”, Frederick said. “What else? ”
“Well”, said Batman, “I also told him that I disagreed with the aphorism that ‘Women are meant to be loved, not to be understood’. This is a derogatory and false comment on the psychology of women, belittling female intelligence and dignity. Besides, not only that men also want to be loved, but love and understanding can be overlapping as well.”
“What did Wilde say? ”
“I don’t know. He is dead”.
poem by Paul Hartal
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Batman
He's Batman but his true identity is Bruce Wayne.
Some people think he's a hero while others think he's insane.
He protects Gotham City from people who are a disgrace.
He protects them from the Joker, the Penguin and even from Two-Face.
The Riddler just struck and Batman has to fight.
He's the Caped Crusader and he's the Dark Knight.
poem by Randy Johnson
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Robin of Pyrocanta
A spring Robin, looking around,
red breast, sure, hop hop.
A look up, around, hop.
And towards the garden, centre,
wait, look.
Then it lifts its head as if for breath,
from a pool.
And looking as if a pendulum,
observing time.
Away then, with its crumb,
to the hedgeing safely.
Towards the berried shrub,
king of red berried bush,
red breasted robin
of pyrocanta, sing.
poem by Bernard Kennedy
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Batman And Catwoman
My glass is half-full and yours is half-empty,
But nature had put us together on this scale of love;
And like 'Batman and Catwoman',
We need to show to others how true love feels.
Take a catwalk and come to me with your love,
Down the stream where the water flows;
City-life is killing people like,
The female body lying next to me;
For i've only three days to prepare for your love.
Yahweh dried up the waters of the Red Sea and,
They passed through to the other side of the land;
So like the 'Batman and Catwoman';
Do give me the feelings of love tonight.
She got off the donkey and went to the spring of water,
But i will sleep with you like a virgin tonight;
Because the mosquitoes do not know my name and,
You will still remember the day that you stood neked before me.
'Batman and Catwoman',
Your eyes have seen me and have met my love;
And your legs do walk to my house always,
Because i am the one that your haert needs.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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One Hundred Years
Now, Batman, Prophet Batman, a hundred years ago,
He looked upon this land and found it good.
"'Tis the place to build a village," bold Batman said, and so
They straight began - or so I've understood
To fling rude huts together by the swamp and by the stream,
To make beginning here and then for Batman's daring dream.
But Batman, Prophet Batman, was quite a modest cove;
His vision sought no far and fabled goals.
A village he could picture here; but no vast treasure trove
A mighty city of a million souls
A miracle arising by the swamp and by the stream
In the hundred years that followed on one pioneering dream.
Now I, far lesser prophet, stand here to view the scene
Tall spire, proud dome athwart a sunny sky,
This far-flung city basking by many a garden green
Yet hopelessly I fail to prophesy.
While earth holds threat and promise both, and high hope walks with dread,
Then who may claim the vision of one hundred years ahead?
Shall yet a greater miracle arise beside the stream,
When wiser plans of wiser men prevail
Some shining City of Content beyond man's boldest bream?
Or must a world's mad frenzy end the tale,
And, in a hundred years from now, another village rise
To shield indomitable man ‘neath ruin-fretted skies?
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Batman: The Killing Joke
Mark Hamill (voice), Tara Strong (voice), Nolan North (voice), John DiMaggio (voice), Kevin Conroy (voice), Robin Atkin Downes (voice), Ray Wise (voice), Kari Wahlgren (voice)
from Batman: The Killing Joke (2016)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Without You (for W.)
the sun would join the Union of Astral Bodies and go on strike
Batman and Robin would have a big argument
the stars would become unglued and fall out
the Lunchpack of Notre Dame would dropp Esmeralda (oops..)
my socks would walk about on their own
John Wayne would lose his hat at the start of the film
Christmas would be abolished, my sons would have to
return to never-never land and
I would never write another poem -
so I think it`s better to be nice to you.
poem by Leslie Philibert
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When the media ask George W. Bush a question, he answers, 'Can I use a lifeline?'
quote by Robin Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Another Lot Of Things You Shouldn’t Do
Never date Wonder Woman
you will never know what she might do.
She could toss her golden lariat
and choke the truth out of you.
Never date Superman
when he asks you to take a flight with him.
He might dropp you
as he waves to the crowd below.
Never date Spiderman
on any given day.
He might leave dangling in his web
while he is called away.
Never date Batman
because you will never be alone.
He has always got a Robin
bobbing along behind.
Never ever date Dodgy Dave The Vicar
because he’ll preach all night to you
and just to top that
you’ll be chased by Vera with a rolling pin in hand.
22 November 2007
poem by David Harris
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His Friends Are More Than Fond Of Robin
(carly simon)
His friends are more than fond of robin
He doesnt need to compliment them
And always as he leaves he leaves them
Feeling proud just to know him
When robin goes on holiday
Theres no-one livin in our lane
Oh yes, folks still live in our lane
But theyre not like robin
Robin, Ive never told you
But Ill be yours until were old
Please learn to call me in your dreams
The way Im lookin at you is just as it seems
Hes talked about before he gets there
Though he can never understand it
And I wouldnt like to be his alone
But Im shy and cant demand it
But when robin gives his love to others
Theres no-one living in my heart
Oh yes, I keep others in my heart
But theyre not like robin
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When the Bush Begins to Speak
They know us not in England yet, their pens are overbold;
We're seen in fancy pictures that are fifty years too old.
They think we are a careless race - a childish race, and weak;
They'll know us yet in England, when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.
'The leaders that will be', the men of southern destiny,
Are not all found in cities that are builded by the sea;
They learn to love Australia by many a western creek,
They'll know them yet in England, when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.
All ready for the struggle, and waiting for the change,
The army of our future lies encamped beyond the range;
Australia, for her patriots, will not have far to seek;
They'll know her yet in England when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.
We'll find the peace and comfort that our fathers could not find,
Or some shall strike the good old blow that leaves a mark behind.
We'll find the Truth and Liberty our fathers came to seek,
Or let them know in England when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.
poem by Henry Lawson
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The Dark Knight Rises
When Gotham needs its hero back,
He's waiting in the wings,
The Dark Knight rises dressed in black
To bring all that he brings...
Back in the game, opponents fall,
He conquers one-by-one,
Such that for Gotham he gives all,
Until the battle's done...
The Batman's played the game before,
Surviving day-by-day,
To scale the heights, even the score,
His martial arts display...
He bides his time, then strikes so fast,
Somehow to turn the tide,
Such that for Gotham danger's past
And peace can then abide...
He sacrifices life and limb,
In fact, his very soul,
In hopes that though the future's grim,
He strives yet gains control...
Beware if in his way you stand,
He knows what he must do,
Such that for Gotham things are planned
So Batman captures you!
One man can make a difference, friends,
One hero standing tall,
One champion who comprehends,
Defending great and small...
When Batman's legend comes to mind,
He holds his head up high,
Such that new courage he will find
Before his last goodbye...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Robin Redbreast
Good-bye, good-bye to Summer!
For Summer's nearly done;
The garden smiling faintly,
Cool breezes in the sun;
Our Thrushes now are silent,
Our Swallows flown away, --
But Robin's here, in coat of brown,
With ruddy breast-knot gay.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
Robin singing sweetly
In the falling of the year.
Bright yellow, red, and orange,
The leaves come down in hosts;
The trees are Indian Princes,
But soon they'll turn to Ghosts;
The scanty pears and apples
Hang russet on the bough,
It's Autumn, Autumn, Autumn late,
'Twill soon be Winter now.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
And welaway! my Robin,
For pinching times are near.
The fireside for the Cricket,
The wheatstack for the Mouse,
When trembling night-winds whistle
And moan all round the house;
The frosty ways like iron,
The branches plumed with snow, --
Alas! in Winter, dead and dark,
Where can poor Robin go?
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
And a crumb of bread for Robin,
His little heart to cheer.
poem by William Allingham
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Batman
i love the way you smile
your eyes are beautiful
your dark and mysterious
you see me as a person im not
your my best friend in the entire world
you helped me when i need someone
you stayed beside my side and pick me up through that dark hole i was falling through
im glad your happy with her
i want you to be happy
with whatever discion you make
i dont regret kissing you
i dont regret annything
i was happy
i havent been happy like that in a long time
batman, i love you
no one or anything will change that
batman
i love you
poem by Jalisa Ann Curtin
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