Cock-a-doodle-do
Cock-a-doodle-do
Sings the cock in the morning
To wake up people!
poem by Asif Andalib
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The Song at Cock-Crow
1918 -- Ille autem iterum negavit.
The first time that Peter denied his Lord
He shrank from the cudgel, the scourge and the cord,
But followed far off to see what they would do,
Till the cock crew--till the cock crew--
After Gethsemane, till the cock crew!
The first time that Peter denied his Lord
'Twas only a maid in the palace who heard,
As he sat by the fire and warmed himself through.
Then the cock crew! Then the cock crew!
("Though also art one of them.") Then the cock crew!
The first time that Peter denied his Lord
He had neither the Throne, nor the Keys nor the Sword--
A poor silly fisherman, what could he do,
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
But weep for his wickedness when the cock crew?
. . . . . .
The next time that Peter denied his Lord
He was Fisher of Men, as foretold by the Word,
With the Crown on his brow and the Cross on his shoe,
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
In Flanders and Picardy when the cock crew!
The next time that Peter denied his Lord
'Twas Mary the Mother in Heaven Who heard,
She grieved for the maidens and wives that they slew
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
At Tirmonde and Aerschott when the cock crew!
The next time that Peter denied his Lord
The Babe in the Manger awakened and stirred,
And He stretched out His arms for the playmates
He knew--
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
But the waters had covered them when the cock crew!
The next time that Peter denied his Lord
'Twas Earth in her agony waited his word,
But he sat by the fire and naught would he do,
Though the cock crew--though the cock crew--
Over all Christendom, though the cock crew!
The last time that Peter denied his Lord,
The Father took from him the Keys and the Sword,
And the Mother and Babe brake his Kingdom in two,
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
(Because of his wickedness) when the cock crew!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Poor Man
The hen has no breasts; poor cock.
The hen has no lips; poor cock.
The hen has no hair; poor cock.
The cock can rape hen; poor man.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Couple Of Chicken Religious Meal
The couple of chicken religious meal
On the ruwatan of my mother
Offering to me
8. Couple Of Chicken Religious Meal
I left the hen one at my grandma house
and bring the cock going home
after arrive at home
that cock
I bring everywhere
aver meet the another one
keep fighting with my cock and win
sometime meet with the cockfighter
neighbour, who have gerobak repair house
where they iron for
and teakwood for
in the center field
they fight my cock and theirs
the winner is always my cock
Their face look very regretful
And they offering to bought my cock
I avoid
And tomorrow eveing, when I went home from school
I found my cock foot
He stay and asleep in my house corner
My cockfoot had injury was harpooned
I care with garlic, not yet recover
I care with peniciclin, not
a week after that cock dead
I cry for the whole day
I don’t understand adult will won theirself
they dont understand, that is not just a cock
But a cock for religious meal in the ruwatan of my mother
My grandma gift
poem by Prasetya Utama
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Foolish Cock
cockooo-cockooo
the cock wakes us all up
today is a special day
my new sister is been outdoored
they quickly bath us children
and wear our best kente for us
mother feels proud and pampered
father sits by the palm wine pot
slowly pulling his beard and looking stern
i heard someone whisper
hel, d have prefered another boy
as we dance around the compound
the foolish cock joins in
he flaps his wings
lifts his beak in the air and sings
whats the occasion he seems to asks
the woman put water on the fire
cock, s still celerbrating
father takes out his hunting knife
cock does a pretty dance
little did he know
he was our meat today
poem by Yvonne Selase Nyahe
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My job 'cock-a-doodle-doo'; from then on, it may not dawn.
Cock Up Your Beaver
When first my brave Johnie lad came to this town,
He had a blue bonnet that wanted the crown;
But now he has gotten a hat and a feather,
Hey, brave Johnie lad, cock up your beaver!
Cock up your beaver, and cock it fu' sprush,
We'll over the border, and gie them a brush;
There's somebody there we'll teach better behaviour,
Hey, brave Johnie lad, cock up your beaver!
poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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My job is to scream, 'cock-a-doodle-doo'; from then on, it may not dawn.
Prequel..cock Robin.
PREQUEL..COCK ROBIN.
THE DAWN MIST HANGS LOW THROUGHOUT THE VALLEY
CREATING THE SHROUD WHICH ALLOWS TIMID CREATURES TO VENTURE OUT
IN THE DISTANCE, THE WOOP OF A DOVE, RAT-TAT-TAT OF WOODPECKER RINGS OUT
SOON ALL LIFE TAKES THEIR PLACE, MAN AND ALL.
WOODCUTTER SAM COPPICES IN A SUSTAINABLE WAY
AS SOON AS HE IS GONE THE ANTS AND WOODLICE ARRIVE TO CART THE CHIPS AWAY
LIFE CAN BE SWEET HERE, HARMONY ENDURES
THE SQUIRREL AND THE JAY ARE ONE..THESE ARE MINE..THOSE ARE YOURS
BUT THERE'S SOMETHING MISSING, ROUTINE HAS FINALLY RELEASED THEIR MINDS
WHERE IS COCK ROBIN'S CHIRPING OF THE TWITTERING KIND?
HE MUST BE IN THE SOUTH OF THE VALLEY, SAY'S JOHN CROW
OH NO, THIS ISN'T THE DAY HE'D GO
SOON THE WORD HAD GONE OUT, COCK ROBIN HAS NOT BEEN SEEN
HE'LL RETURN BEFORE LONG AND TELL US WHERE HE'S BEEN
THE HOURS WEAR ON, THE RUMOURS ABOUND, ALL ARE LISTENING FOR THAT CHIPPY-CHIRPY SOUND
IN THE FOLLOWING DAYS WITH NO MORNING ACLAIM FROM COCK ROBIN
THE TEARS SHED ARE HIDDEN IN THE MISTY WETNESS OF THE MORNING.
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
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The Price Of The Cock
THE PRICE OF THE COCK
A WOMAN STOLE A COCK AND TOOK IT TO THE MARKET TO SELL IT, WHILST AT THE MARKET, SMARTER THIEVES STOLE THE COCK FROM HER AND SHE WENT BACK HOME SOBER!
ON HER ARRIVAL AT HER HOUSE, AN INQUISITIVE NEIGHBOUR ASKED, DEAR NEIGHBOUR, YOUR COCK WHICH YOU TOOK TO THE MARKET, HOW MUCH DID YOU SELL IT? SHE ASKED AND THE SOBER WOMAN REPLIED, IT WAS SOLD FOR EXACTLY THE SAME PRICE FOR WHICH IT WAS BOUGHT!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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When the cockroach decides to make the cock its friend it must be ready to end up in the cock's stomach.
As the old cock crows, the young cock learns.
Sugar
On the vermont transit bus I leaned my arm into alittle chink of sun,
Going somewhere older than I was,
Strapped into something tight, keeping me small.
I dug into you like rock climbing;
Too scared of coming down,
Too scared of going up,
Too scared of rockface.
I shouldve split my sides or spilled my guts or hit you or something,
But I was good, and your fathers little pancakes
So round and perfect and me sitting up too straight,
Laughing in wrong places, kissing you,
Kissing up, kissing too soon.
When the cock crows
When the morning comes where will I go?
When the cock crows
When the love is gone where will I go?
And when you got me pregnant I stopped the party and
I stopped the typewriter and I stopped your dumb ball game in the red barn and i
Stopped your father and bled instead.
And I felt the lie - something sticky on the inside,
A bitter wind in my throat,
Stopping me wanting,
In my stomach, in my head and you said
Sugar sugar, you couldnt come come
Sugar sugar, without your mother
Sugar sugar, you couldnt taste it
Sugar sugar, in my throat.
When the cock crows
When the morning comes where will I go?
When the cock crows
When the love is gone where will I go?
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Plymouth Rock Joe
Why are you running so fast hither and thither
Chasing midges or butterflies?
Some of you are standing solemnly scratching for grubs;
Some of you are waiting for corn to be scattered.
This is life, is it?
Cock-a-doodle-do! Very well, Thomas Rhodes,
You are cock of the walk, no doubt.
But here comes Elliott Hawkins,
Gluck, Gluck, Gluck, attracting political followers.
Quah! quah! quah! why so poetical, Minerva,
This gray morning?
Kittie -- quah -- quah! for shame, Lucius Atherton,
The raucous squawk you evoked from the throat
Of Aner Clute will be taken up later
By Mrs. Benjamin Pantier as a cry
Of votes for women: Ka dook -- dook!
What inspiration has come to you, Margaret Fuller Slack?
And why does your gooseberry eye
Flit so liquidly, Tennessee Claflin Shope?
Are you trying to fathom the esotericism of an egg?
Your voice is very metallic this morning, Hortense Robbins --
Almost like a guinea hen's!
Quah! That was a guttural sigh, Isaiah Beethoven;
Did you see the shadow of the hawk,
Or did you step upon the drumsticks
Which the cook threw out this morning?
Be chivalric, heroic, or aspiring,
Metaphysical, religious, or rebellious,
You shall never get out of the barnyard
Except by way of over the fence
Mixed with potato peelings and such into the trough!
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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I Have a Gentil Cock
I have a gentil cock
croweth me day
he doth me risen early
my matins for to stay
I have a gentil cock
comen he is of great
his comb is of red coral
his tail is of jet
I have a gentil cock
comen he is of kind
his comb is of red sorrel
his tail is of inde
his legs be of azure
so gentil and so small
his spurs are of silver white
into the wortewale
his eyes are of crystal
locked all in amber
and every night he pertcheth him
in my lady`s chamber
I Have a Gentil Cock
I have a gentil cock
croweth me day
he doth me risen early
my matins for to stay
I have a gentil cock
comen he is of great
his comb is of red coral
his tail is of jet
I have a gentil cock
comen he is of kind
his comb is of red sorrel
his tail is of inde
his legs be of azure
so gentil and so small
his spurs are of silver white
into the wortewale
his eyes are of crystal
locked all in amber
and every night he pertcheth him
in my lady`s chamber
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Watching The Chickens
the strong cock
struts its way
towards a
group of hens
and as there
are too many
of them
hens, the cock
in confidence
does what is
of most service
to its master
he fucked them
all
for the eggs.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Have A Gentil Cock
I have a gentil cock
croweth me day
he doth me risen early
my matins for to stay
I have a gentil cock
comen he is of great
his comb is of red coral
his tail is of jet
I have a gentil cock
comen he is of kind
his comb is of red sorrel
his tail is of inde
his legs be of azure
so gentil and so small
his spurs are of silver white
into the wortewale
his eyes are of crystal
locked all in amber
and every night he pertcheth him
in my lady`s chamber
poem by Anonymous Olde English
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2: 53 A.m.
loudest is the sound of the
cock crowing
though far from this house
of hay
it cannot hear us somehow
on another cock crowing
on your hands
of cotton
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Another Yankee Doodle
Yankee Doodle had a mind
To whip the Southern traitors,
Because they didn't choose to live
On codfish and potatoes,
Yankee Doodle, doodle-doo,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
And to keep his courage up
He took a drink of brandy.
Yankee Doodle said he found
By all the census figures,
That he could starve the rebels out,
If he could steal their niggers.
Yankee Doodle, doodle-doo,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
And then he took another drink
Of gunpowder and brandy.
Yankee Doodle made a speech;
'Twas very full of feeling;
'I fear,' he says, 'I cannot fight,
But I am good at stealing.'
Yankee Doodle, doodle-doo,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
Hurrah for Lincoln, he's the boy
To take a drop of brandy.
Yankee Doodle drew his sword,
And practiced all the passes;
Come, boys, we'll take another drink
When we get to Manassas.
Yankee Doodle, doodle-doo,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
They never reached Manassas plain,
And never got the brandy.
Yankee Doodle soon found out
That Bull Run was no trifle;
For if the North knew how to steal,
The South knew how to rifle.
Yankee Doodle, doodle-doo,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
'Tis very clear I took too much
Of that infernal brandy.
Yankee Doodle wheeled about,
And scampered off at full run,
And such a race was never seen
As that he made at Bull Run.
Yankee Doodle, doodle-doo,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
I haven't time to stop right now
To take a drop of brandy.
Yankee Doodle, oh! for shame,
You're always intermeddling;
Let guns alone, they're dangerous things;
You'd better stick to peddling.
Yankee Doodle, doodle-doo,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
When next I go to Bully Run
I'll throw away the brandy.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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