His Wife, The Painter
There are sketches on the walls of men and women and ducks,
and outside a large green bus swerves through traffic like
insanity sprung from a waving line; Turgenev, Turgenev,
says the radio, and Jane Austin, Jane Austin, too.
"I am going to do her portrait on the 28th, while you are
at work."
poem by Charles Bukowski
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The Pitcher
THE simple Jane was sent to bring
Fresh water from the neighb'ring spring;
The matter pressed, no time to waste,
Jane took her jug, and ran in haste
The well to reach, but in her flurry
(The more the speed the worse the hurry),
Tripped on a rolling stone, and broke
Her precious pitcher,--ah! no joke!
Nay, grave mishap! 'twere better far
To break her neck than such a jar!
Her dame would beat and soundly rate her,
No way could Jane propitiate her.
Without a sou new jug to buy!
'Twere better far for her to die!
O'erwhelmed by grief and cruel fears
Unhappy Jane burst into tears
"I can't go home without the delf,"
Sobbed Jane, "I'd rather kill myself;
"So here am I resolved to die."
A friendly neighbour passing by
O'erheard our damsel's lamentation;
And kindly offered consolation:
"If death, sweet maiden, be thy bent,
"I'll aid thee in thy sad intent."
Throwing her down, he drew his dirk,
And plunged it in the maid,--a work
You'll say was cruel,--not so Jane,
Who even seemed to like the pain,
And hoped to be thus stabbed again.
Amid the weary world's alarms,
For some e'en death will have its charms;
"If this, my friend, is how you kill,
"Of breaking jugs I'll have my fill!"
poem by La Fontaine
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Sweet Jane
Standin' on the corner, suit case in my hand, Jack is in his coat, Jane is in her vest, and, me, I'm in a rock 'n' roll band. Riding in a Stutz-Bearcat, Jim. Ya know, those were different times. The poets, they studied rules of verse, and the ladies, they rolled their eyes.Sweet Jane! Sweet Jane! Sweet Jane!
Now, Jack, he is a banker, and Jane, she is a clerk. Both of them save their monies, when they come home from work. Sittin' down there by the fire, the radio does play. The classic music is, "The March of Wooden Soldiers", and you can heard Jack say, Sweet Jane, Sweet Jane, Sweet Jane.
Some people like to go out dancin'. Now other people they go to work. There's even some evil mothers, they'll tell you life's just made out of dirt.That women, they never really faint, and villains always blink their eyes.That childeren are the only ones who blush, and life is just to die. That every one who ever had a heart...that wouldn't turn round and break it, anyone that played a part, whooa, and wouldn't turn round and hate it.Sweet Jane, Sweet Jane, Sweet Jane.
Sweet Jane! (Sweet Jane) Sweet Jane! (Sweet Jane)...Sweet Jane! (Sweet Jane)...(Sweet Jane)...(Sweet Jane)...(Sweet Jane).
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Intro/sweet Jane
Standing on the corner
Suitcase in my hand
Jacks in his corset, jane is in her vest
Me, honey, Im in a rock n roll band
Ridin in a stutz bearcat, jim
Those were different times
They studied rules of verse
And those ladies they rolled their eyes
Sweet jane
Sweet jane
Sweet jane
Jack, he is a banker
Jane, she is a clerk
Both of them save their money
When they come home from work
Sittin by the fire
Radio does play, look classical music there, kids
The march of the wooden soldiers
You can hear jack say
Sweet jane
Sweet jane
Sweet jane
Some people like to go out dancing
And other people like us, we gotta work
And theres even some evil mothers
Theyll tell you that life is just made out of dirt
And women never really faint
All the villains always blink their eyes
That children are the only ones who blush
And life is just to die
Anyone who ever had a heart
And wouldnt turn around and break it
Anyone who ever played a part
And wouldnt turn around and hate it
Sweet jane
Sweet jane
Sweet jane
Sweet jane, sweet jane
Sweet jane, oh honey, sweet jane
Sweet jane, oh, sweet jane
Sweet jane, sweet jane
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mary Jane
Now when I go to work, I work all day,
Always turns out the same.
When I bring home my hard-earned pay
I spend my money all on mary jane.
Mary jane, mary jane, lord, my mary jane.
Oh if a man should look tame now, mean and mature,
They all turn out the same.
cause they cant do nothing to make a man feel good
Like my old mary jane.
Mary jane, mary jane, lord, my mary jane.
Now I walk in the street now lookin for a friend
One that can lend me some change.
And he never questions my reason why,
cause he too loves mary jane.
Mary jane, mary jane, lord, my mary jane.
Well, I have known women that wanted no man,
Some that wanted to stay.
But I never knew what happened in this world
Till I met up with mary jane,
Mary jane, mary jane, lord my mary jane.
Oh, when Im feelin lonesome and Im feelin blue,
Theres only one way to change.
Now I walk down the street now lookin for a man,
One that knows my mary jane,
Mary jane, mary jane, lord my mary jane.
song performed by by Janis Joplin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jane's Marriage
Jane went to Paradise:
That was only fair.
Good Sir Walter followed her,
And armed her up the stair.
Henry and Tobias,
And Miguel of Spain,
Stood with Shakespeare at the top
To welcome Jane--
Then the Three Archangels
Offered out of hand
Anything in Heaven's gift
That she might command.
Azrael's eyes upon her,
Raphael's wings above,
Michael's sword against her heart,
Jane said: "Love."
Instantly the under-
Standing Seraphim
Laid their fingers on their lips
And went to look for him.
Stole across the Zodiac,
Harnessed Charles's Wain,
And whispered round the Nebulae
"Who loved Jane?"
In a private limbo
Where none had thought to look,
Sat a Hampshire gentleman
Reading of a book.
It was called Persuasion
And it told the plain
Story of the love between
Him and Jane.
He heard the question,
Circle Heaven through--
Closed the book and answered:
"I did -- and do!"
Quietly but speedily
(As Captain Wentworth moved)
Entered into Paradise
The man Jane loved!
Jane lies in Winchester, blessed be her shade!
Praise the Lord for making her, and her for all she made.
And while the stones of Winchester--or Milson Street--remain,
Glory, Love, and Honour unto England's Jane!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Sleepy Harry
"I do not like to go to bed,"
Sleepy little Harry said;
"Go, naughty Betty, go away,
I will not come at all, I say! "
Oh, silly child! what is he saying?
As if he could be always playing!
Then, Betty, you must come and carry
This very foolish little Harry.
The little birds are better taught,
They go to roosting when they ought:
And all the ducks, and fowls, you know,
They went to bed an hour ago.
The little beggar in the street,
Who wanders with his naked feet,
And has not where to lay his head,
Oh, he'd be glad to go to bed.
poem by Jane Taylor
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On the Importance of Being Earnest
"Gentle Jane was as good as gold,"
To borrow a line from Mr. Gilbert;
She hated War with a hate untold,
She was a pacifistic filbert.
If you said "Perhaps"--she'd leave the hall.
You couldn't argue with her at all.
"Teasing Tom was a very bad boy,"
(Pardon my love for a good quotation).
To talk of war was his only joy,
And his single purpose was preparation.
* * * * *
And what both of these children had to say
I never knew, for I ran away.
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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Paul McNeely
Dear Jane! dear winsome Jane!
How you stole in the room (where I lay so ill)
In your nurse's cap and linen cuffs,
And took my hand and said with a smile:
"You are not so ill -- you'll soon be well."
And how the liquid thought of your eyes
Sank in my eyes like dew that slips
Into the heart of a flower.
Dear Jane! the whole McNeely fortune
Could not have bought your care of me,
By day and night, and night and day;
Nor paid for your smile, nor the warmth of your soul,
In your little hands laid on my brow.
Jane, till the flame of life went out
In the dark above the disk of night
I longed and hoped to be well again
To pillow my head on your little breasts,
And hold you fast in a clasp of love --
Did my father provide for you when he died,
Jane, dear Jane?
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Sweet Jane
Standin' on a corner,
suitcase in my hand.
Jack's in his car, says to Jane, who's in her vest,
Me, babe, I'm in a rock n' roll band.
Ridin' in a Stutz Bearcat, Jim,
those were different times.
And the poets studied rows of verse,
and all the ladies rolled their eyes
Sweet Jane.....Sweet Jane.....Sweet Jane
Now, Jack, he is a banker,
and Jane, she is a clerk.
And the both of them are saving up their money...
then they come home from work.
Sittin' by the fire...
radio just played a little classical music for you kids,
the march of the wooden soldiers
and you can hear Jack say
Sweet Jane.....Sweet Jane.....Sweet Jane....
Some people like to go out dancing
And other people, (like us) they gotta work
And there's always some evil mothers
they'll tell you life is full of dirt.
And the women never really faint,
and the villans always blink their eyes.
And the children are the only ones who blush.
'Cause life is just to die.
But, anyone who has a heart
wouldn't want to turn around and break it...
and anyone who ever played the part..
he wouldn't want to turn around and fake it...
Sweet Jane....etc...and out
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet V: Nothing But No
Nothing but "No," and "Aye," and "Aye," and "No"?
How falls it out so strangely you reply?
I tell ye, Fair, I'll not be answer'd so,
With this affirming "No," denying "Aye."
I say, "I love," you slightly answer "Aye";
I say, "You love," you pule me out a "No";
I say, "I die," you echo me an "Aye";
"Save me," I cry, you sigh me out a "No";
Must woe and I have nought but "No" and "Aye"?
No I am I, if I no more can have;
Answer no more, with silence make reply,
And let me take myself what I do crave.
Let "No" and "Aye" with I and you be so;
Then answer "No," and "Aye," and "Aye" and "No."
poem by Michael Drayton
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Sweet Jane
(reed)
Standing on the corner,
Suitcase in my hand
Jack is in his corset, and jane is her vest,
And me Im in a rocknroll band hah!
Ridin in a stutz bear cat, jim
You know, those were different times!
Oh, all the poets they studied rules of verse
And those ladies, they rolled their eyes
Sweet jane! whoa! sweet jane, oh-oh-a! sweet jane!
Ill tell you something
Jack, he is a banker
And jane, she is a clerk
Both of them save their monies, ha
And when, when they come home from work
Oh, sittin down by the fire, oh!
The radio does play
The classical music there, jim
The march of the wooden soldiers
All you protest kids
You can hear jack say, get ready, ah
Sweet jane! come on baby! sweet jane! oh-oh-a! sweet jane!
Some people, they like to go out dancing
And other peoples, they have to work, just watch me now!
And theres even some evil mothers
Well theyre gonna tell you that everything is just dirt
Yknow that, women, never really faint
And that villains always blink their eyes, woo!
And that, yknow, children are the only ones who blush!
And that, life is just to die!
And, everyone who ever had a heart
They wouldnt turn around and break it
And anyone who ever played a part
Oh wouldnt turn around and hate it!
Sweet jane! whoa-oh-oh! sweet jane! sweet jane!
Heavenly wine and roses
Seems to whisper to her when he smiles
Heavenly wine and roses
Seems to whisper to her when she smiles
La lala lala la, la lala lala la
Sweet jane
Sweet jane
Sweet jane
song performed by by Velvet Underground
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mare's Nest
Jane Austen Beecher Stowe de Rouse
Was good beyond all earthly need;
But, on the other hand, her spouse
Was very, very bad indeed.
He smoked cigars, called churches slow,
And raced -- but this she did not know.
For Belial Machiavelli kept
The little fact a secret, and,
Though o'er his minor sins she wept,
Jane Austen did not understand
That Lilly -- thirteen-two and bay
Absorbed one-half her husband's pay.
She was so good, she made hime worse;
(Some women are like this, I think;)
He taught her parrot how to curse,
Her Assam monkey how to drink.
He vexed her righteous soul until
She went up, and he went down hill.
Then came the crisis, strange to say,
Which turned a good wife to a better.
A telegraphic peon, one day,
Brought her -- now, had it been a letter
For Belial Machiavelli, I
Know Jane would just have let it lie.
But 'twas a telegram instead,
Marked "urgent," and her duty plain
To open it. Jane Austen read:
"Your Lilly's got a cough again.
Can't understand why she is kept
At your expense." Jane Austen wept.
It was a misdirected wire.
Her husband was at Shaitanpore.
She spread her anger, hot as fire,
Through six thin foreign sheets or more.
Sent off that letter, wrote another
To her solicitor -- and mother.
Then Belial Machiavelli saw
Her error and, I trust, his own,
Wired to the minion of the Law,
And traveled wifeward -- not alone.
For Lilly -- thirteen-two and bay --
Came in a horse-box all the way.
There was a scene -- a weep or two --
With many kisses. Austen Jane
Rode Lilly all the season through,
And never opened wires again.
She races now with Belial. This
Is very sad, but so it is.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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I like your books
In the betting line the other
day
man behind me asked,
"are you Henry
Chinaski?"
"uh huh," I answered.
"I like your books," he went
on.
"thanks," I answered.
"who do you like in this
race?" he asked.
"uh uh," I answered.
"I like the 4 horse," he
told me.
I made my bet and went back
to my seat....
the next race I am standing in
line and here is this same man
standing behind me
again.
there are at least 50 lines at
the windows but
he has to find mine
again.
"I think this race favors the
closers," he said to the back of
my neck. "the track looks
heavy."
"listen," I said, not looking
around, "it's the kiss of death to
talk about horses at the
track..."
"what kind of rule is that?"
he asked. "God doesn't make
rules..."
I turned around and looked at him:
"maybe not, but I
do."
after the next race
I got in line, glanced behind
me:
he was not there:
lost another reader.
I lose 2 or 3 each
week.
fine.
let 'em go back to
Kafka.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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The Cunning Woman
On all Arcadia's sunny plain,
On all Arcadia's hill,
None were so blithe as BILL and JANE,
So blithe as JANE and BILL.
No social earthquake e'er occurred
To rack their common mind:
To them a Panic was a word -
A Crisis, empty wind.
No Stock Exchange disturbed the lad
With overwhelming shocks -
BILL ploughed with all the shares he had,
JANE planted all her stocks.
And learn in what a simple way
Their pleasures they enhanced -
JANE danced like any lamb all day,
BILL piped as well as danced.
Surrounded by a twittling crew,
Of linnet, lark, and thrush,
BILL treated his young lady to
This sentimental gush:
"Oh, JANE, how true I am to you!
How true you are to me!
And how we woo, and how we coo!
So fond a pair are we!
"To think, dear JANE, that anyways.
Your chiefest end and aim
Is, one of these fine summer days,
To bear my humble name!"
Quoth JANE, "Well, as you put the case,
I'm true enough, no doubt,
But then, you see, in this here place
There's none to cut you out.
"But, oh! if anybody came -
A Lord or any such -
I do not think your humble name
Would fascinate me much.
"For though your mates, you often boast.
You distance out-and-out;
Still, in the abstract, you're a most
Uncompromising lout!"
Poor BILL, he gave a heavy sigh,
He tried in vain to speak -
A fat tear started to each eye
And coursed adown each cheek.
For, oh! right well in truth he knew
That very self-same day,
The LORD DE JACOB PILLALOO
Was coming there to stay!
The LORD DE JACOB PILLALOO
All proper maidens shun -
He loves all women, it is true,
But never marries one.
Now JANE, with all her mad self-will,
Was no coquette - oh no!
She really loved her faithful BILL,
And thus she tuned her woe:
"Oh, willow, willow, o'er the lea!
And willow once again!
The Peer will fall in love with me!
Why wasn't I made plain?"
*
A cunning woman lived hard by,
A sorceressing dame,
MACCATACOMB DE SALMON-EYE
Was her uncommon name.
To her good JANE, with kindly yearn
For BILL'S increasing pain,
Repaired in secrecy to learn
How best to make her plain.
"Oh, JANE," the worthy woman said,
"This mystic phial keep,
And rub its liquor in your head
Before you go to sleep.
"When you awake next day, I trow,
You'll look in form and hue
To others just as you do now -
But not to PILLALOO!
"When you approach him, you will find
He'll think you coarse - unkempt -
And rudely bid you get behind,
With undisguised contempt."
The LORD DE PILLALOO arrived
With his expensive train,
And when in state serenely hived,
He sent for BILL and JANE.
"Oh, spare her, LORD OF PILLALOO!
(Said BILL) if wed you be,
There's anything I'D rather do
Than flirt with LADY P."
The Lord he gazed in Jenny's eyes,
He looked her through and through:
The cunning woman's prophecies
Were clearly coming true.
LORD PILLALOO, the Rustic's Bane
(Bad person he, and proud),
HE LAUGHED HA! HA! AT PRETTY JANE,
AND SNEERED AT HER ALOUD!
He bade her get behind him then,
And seek her mother's stye -
Yet to her native countrymen
She was as fair as aye!
MACCATACOMB, continue green!
Grow, SALMON-EYE, in might,
Except for you, there might have been
The deuce's own delight.
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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The Day Jane Fainted
Jane fainted in the town
by the coach
on Saturday morning
and her mother
and other women
were around her
and you stood
a little way away
wondering what
had happened to her
I think it must be
that time of the month
you heard one woman say
maybe
her mother said
but she's not usually
like this
she added
will she be all right?
you asked
bending down
next to one
of the women
who had gathered
her mother looked at you
and said
yes it happens
at certain times
of the month
oh right
you said
none the wiser
gazing at Jane
at her dark hair
her eyes closed
her features
white and sweaty
best give her some air
her mother said
and you all stood up
and her mother
fanned her
with her hat
then after a minute or so
Jane opened her eyes
and said
what happened?
I went all funny
and everything went white
you fainted
her mother said
waving the hat
in front of Jane's face
I want to get up
Jane said
and so you
and her mother
helped her
to her feet
and she leaned
against the wall
of the bank
and looked around
she'll be all right now
a woman said
it happens
another said
after a few minutes
they went off
to the shops
leaving you
and your mother
and Jane
and her mother
standing by the coach
I'll be all right now
Jane said
ok
her mother said
and you all walked
along the street
to the shops
Jane walking behind
with you
her hand stealthily
reaching down
for yours and giving it
a little squeeze
then releasing it again
looking up at the sky
which had become dark
threatening rain.
poem by Terry Collett
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The ABC
'Twas midnight in the schoolroom
And every desk was shut
When suddenly from the alphabet
Was heard a loud "Tut-Tut!"
Said A to B, "I don't like C;
His manners are a lack.
For all I ever see of C
Is a semi-circular back!"
"I disagree," said D to B,
"I've never found C so.
From where I stand he seems to be
An uncompleted O."
C was vexed, "I'm much perplexed,
You criticise my shape.
I'm made like that, to help spell Cat
And Cow and Cool and Cape."
"He's right" said E; said F, "Whoopee!"
Said G, "'Ip, 'Ip, 'ooray!"
"You're dropping me," roared H to G.
"Don't do it please I pray."
"Out of my way," LL said to K.
"I'll make poor I look ILL."
To stop this stunt J stood in front,
And presto! ILL was JILL.
"U know," said V, "that W
Is twice the age of me.
For as a Roman V is five
I'm half as young as he."
X and Y yawned sleepily,
"Look at the time!" they said.
"Let's all get off to beddy byes."
They did, then "Z-z-z."
poem by Spike Milligan
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You're right—
234
You're right—"the way is narrow"—
And "difficult the Gate"—
And "few there be"—Correct again—
That "enter in—thereat"—
'Tis Costly—So are purples!
'Tis just the price of Breath—
With but the "Discount" of the Grave—
Termed by the Brokers—"Death"!
And after that—there's Heaven—
The Good Man's—"Dividend"—
And Bad Men—"go to Jail"—
I guess—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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What is—
215
What is—"Paradise"—
Who live there—
Are they "Farmers"—
Do they "hoe"—
Do they know that this is "Amherst"—
And that I—am coming—too—
Do they wear "new shoes"—in "Eden"—
Is it always pleasant—there—
Won't they scold us—when we're homesick—
Or tell God—how cross we are—
You are sure there's such a person
As "a Father"—in the sky—
So if I get lost—there—ever—
Or do what the Nurse calls "die"—
I shan't walk the "Jasper"—barefoot—
Ransomed folks—won't laugh at me—
Maybe—"Eden" a'n't so lonesome
As New England used to be!
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Little Liza Jane
Traditional
Where is my tambourine wait a minute I'll get your tambourine
Got my tambourine get your thing baby
What's wrong with you what is it you want
Can't forget my tambourine boy want a minute
This is a folk tune nad it's called Little Liza Jane
We get some rhythm started here and see what happens
I got a beau you ain't got none Little Liza Jean
I got a beau you ain't got none Little Liza Jean
I got a beau you ain't got none Little Liza Jean
I got a beau you ain't got none Little Liza Jean
Oh Little Liza Liza Jane oh Little Liza Liza Jean
Oh Little Liza Liza Jane oh Little Liza Liza Jean
Come my love and live with me
I will take good care of thee Little Liza Jean
Come my love and live with me
I will take good care of thee Little Liza Jean
Oh Little Liza Liza Jane oh Little Liza Liza Jean
Oh Little Liza Liza Jane oh Little Liza Liza Jean
Hambone Hammer where you've been
Down by the river making gin
I know a man that's three feet tall
Drink his liquor and has a ball
Saw him just the other day
He had a horse and a ball of hay
Little Lisa Jane Jane Little Liza
Little Lisa Jane Jane Little Liza
Little Lisa Jane Jane Little Liza
Little Liza Jean Little Liza Jean
Little Lisa Jane Jane Little Liza
Little Lisa Jane Jane Little Liza
Little Lisa Jane Jane Little Liza
Little Liza Jean Little Liza Jean
Oh Little Liza Liza Jane oh Little Liza Liza Jean
Oh Little Liza Liza Jane oh Little Liza Liza Jean
He took me to his great big town
Lots of people standing around
They were listening to a great big band
the bestest music in the land
I tell you once and tell you twice
Enjoy yourself and live your life
Little Lisa Jane Jane Little Liza
Little Lisa Jane Jane Little Liza
Little Lisa Jane Jane Little Liza
Little Liza Jean Little Liza Jean
Little Lisa Jane Jane Little Liza
Little Lisa Jane Jane Little Liza
Little Lisa Jane Jane Little Liza
Little Liza Jean Little Liza Jean
Oh Little Liza Liza Jane oh Little Liza Liza Jean
Oh Little Liza Liza Jane oh Little Liza Liza Jean
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Spider
"Oh, look at that great ugly spider!" said Ann;
And screaming, she brush'd it away with her fan;
"'Tis a frightful black creature as ever can be,
I wish that it would not come crawling on me. "
"Indeed," said her mother, "I'll venture to say,
The poor thing will try to keep out of your way;
For after the fright, and the fall, and the pain,
It has much more occasion than you to complain.
"But why should you dread the poor insect, my dear?
If it hurt you, there'd be some excuse for your fear;
But its little black legs, as it hurried away,
Did but tickle your arm, as they went, I dare say.
"For them to fear us we must grant to be just,
Who in less than a moment can tread them to dust;
But certainly we have no cause for alarm;
For, were they to try, they could do us no harm.
"Now look! it has got to its home; do you see
What a delicate web it has spun in the tree?
Why here, my dear Ann, is a lesson for you:
Come learn from this spider what patience can do!
"And when at your business you're tempted to play,
Recollect what you see in this insect to-day,
Or else, to your shame, it may seem to be true,
That a poor little spider is wiser than you. "
poem by Jane Taylor
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