Farewell Cable Tram
Now a sad farewell to the cable-tram,
Staunch friend of the quieter days,
That glided down thro' a leisured town
Ere the urge for speed was a craze.
We'd time to spare and we took the air
On a sociable seat outside
Calm charioteers of those peaceful years
When 'the trams' were a city's pride.
Clash! Clang! The twin bells rang,
And the grip went smoothly in.
Then we floated along to a muted song
And a dearth of hustle and din.
Untouched by the need for racketting speed
That frazzles the moderns' nerves,
Scarce heeding at all the warning call:
'Sit tight! Hold on at the curve!'
Unhurried, serene, we viewed the scene,
Or chatted with Charlie or Sam.
Oh, in spite of the rage of a jazz-mad age,
I'm still for the cable-tram, I am,
The jolly old cable-tram.
But they're rooting them out, the cable-trams,
Like all earth's pleasanter things;
To oblivion brought by a Juggernaut
That needs no leading strings
And they'll serve when dead, for a shelter shed
By some shrill suburban road.
Or a garden 'nook,' unbelievably crook,
At a philistine's abode.
Clash! Clang! . . . How the breezes sang
On a sunny Sabbath Day.
And away we go with Fanny or Flo
For a tram trip down the Bay.
'What O! There's class!' Proud ponies pass
With their shining jinkers there,
And joy's complete, we've a front-row seat,
And the sea-wind's in our hair.
And never a car snorts by to mar
That peace with its swank and sham.
You may keep your noise and your clattering toys!
I'm for the cable-tram, I am!
Idyllic old cable-tram.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Cable Tv
I used to think my life was so empty
I used to think life was passin me by
Well, I was just about ready
To curl up and die
But then one day I got a visit
From the cable company
Well, they hooked me up and plugged me right in
And now I got cable tv
And now I get to watch the stock report in korean
Midget wrestling on channel three
It costs me fifty bucks a month just to see em
Yeah, but thats all right with me
I got cable tv (cable tv)
Cable tv (cable tv)
Oh, eighty-three channels of ecstasy
I love my cable tv, yeah
I love my cable tv
I got the siamese faith healers network
The news and weather from peru
I got celebrity hockey
The racketball channel too
Bugs bunny direct from atlanta
Mr. wizard is on at five
I got a satellite dish on the trunk of my car
So I can watch mtv while I drive
Im talkin bout real quality programs
The kind you just cant get for free
Now I never wanna leave my apartment
cause theres just so much for me to see
On my cable tv (cable tv)
Cable tv(cable tv)
Well, if you need to find me
You know where Ill be
Watchin my cable tv, yeah
Watchin my cable tv
cause I love my cable tv, yeah
I love my cable tv
My friends are gettin kinda worried
They think Im turning into some kinda freak
Oh, but theyre just jealous cause Ive seen porkys
Twenty-seven times this week
On my cable tv (cable tv)
Cable tv (cable tv)
Yeah, the greatest thing thats ever happened to me
I love my cable tv, yeah
I love my cable tv
Well, I got to have cable tv, yeah
I need my cable tv
Well, I love, I love my cable tv (tv)
Got to have cable tv (tv)
Well, I got to have my cable tv, yeah (tv)
Cant live without my cable tv
Well, I said, got to have some cable tv (tv)
Ive got to have my cable tv
I said cable tv, yeah (tv)
Got to have cable tv
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Evening walk
Aimless mind slap bang
Coated out to spring
Dressed up, bear body hiding
Set out the old road along
The bus or the tram
Unless may be the train
To right or the left no plan
Time and space came
The side where I belonged to
The tram was on way from left to
Undecided space came think to
Opened the door just get into
Passengers were on seats
Passersby were in streets
Seemed to be direct targets
Looking at their end points
Planned and minded among
Blank and aimless I am
Getting down one by one
One and only in I am
Reverse way to the direction
Same as the tram to go again
Waiting for till times come
End or the beginning no aim
Passengers were on seats
Passersby were in streets
Driver is on the seat
I am also on my seat
All they know their aim
I don't have a plan
Left or the right same
Just for the pass time
poem by Udaya R. Tennakoon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Despair is like a cable that is buried just under the surface of the ground. You pull it up and pull it up, but that cable just keeps right on going, clear across a field, until you come to a bunch of guys who are burying the cable. Then just walk up to them and go, 'Hey, have you seen Fred' And they'll say, 'Fred who' And you say, 'Fred of snakes' Then cover your ears, because big laughs are coming.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brown's Tram
A city clerk was Henry Brown,
Whose suburb knew nor tram nor train;
And ev'ry morn he walked to town.
From nine till five, with busy brain,
He labored in an office dim.
Each eve he walked out home again.
And all this tramping seemed to him
A waste of time, for, 'mid the strife,
He could not keep his lawn in trim.
It clouded his domestic life -
This going early, coming late -
And much distressed his little wife.
Then some wise man declared the State
Should put in trams, and for this scheme
Brown was a red-hot advocate.
At last he realised his dream;
And daily in and out of town
He trammed it with content supreme.
For, though it cost him half-a-crown
A week in fares, the time he saved
Meant much to him and Mrs. Brown.
And so they lived and pinched and slaved
And their suburban happiness
Seemed all that they had ever craved.
The little wife began to bless
The trams; nor grieved their meagre dole
Was weekly two and sixpence less.
Then Brown's employer, kindly soul,
Learned of this tram-car luxury,
And promptly rose to take his toll.
He sent for Brown and said that he
Should now contrive to come at eight
Since trams blessed his vicinity.
He also deemed it wise to state
That idleness begat much ill,
And it was wrong to sleep in late.
Yet Brown contrived to tram it still,
And trim his lawn with tender care,
And pay his rent and baker's bill.
His little wife vowed it unfair;
But bowed to stern, relentless fate,
And smiled and sewed and worked her share.
Just here, the landlord wrote to state,
Since trams improved his property,
He'd raise the rent as from that date.
'Three shillings weekly will not be
Too much - an equitable rise,
Considering the trams,' wrote he.
What profit oaths or women's sighs?
His 'sacred rights,' of wealth the fount,
A landlord has to recognise.
To what do poor clerks' lives amount?
An extra hour of slavery
Swells an employer's bank account.
The wealthy boss thanks God that he
Has saved some money out of Brown.
The landlord smiles contentedly.
The trams run gaily up and down,
A sight Brown sadly notes as he
Plods daily in and out of town.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Personal Neon
I am devoid of genius
that is why I can touch my nose with my tongue
and prove that I am really a genius
Sometimes while walking in front of
Manik Bandyopadhyay's house I brood
about the street on which he once walked
I am also on the same road, but worthless, Falguni Ray
walking, sometimes I travel
in second class in trams and I
imagine this was the tram that overran and crushed
the body of Jibanananda Das
This is the way I travel--
earth sun stars accompany me.
poem by Falguni Ray
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The Lost Tram
I walked an unfamiliar street
And suddenly heard a raven's cry,
And the sound of a lute, and distant thunder,-
In front of me a tram was flying.
How I jumped onto its foot board,
Was a mystery to me,
Even in daylight it left behind
A fiery trail in the air.
It rushed like a dark, winged storm,
And was lost in the abyss of time...
Tram-driver, stop,
Stop the tram now.
Too late. We had already turned the corner,
We tore through a forest of palms,
Over the Neva, the Nile, the Seine
We thundered across three bridges.
And slipping by the window frame,
A poor old man threw us an inquisitive glance-
The very same old man, of course,
Who had died in Beirut a year ago.
Where am I? So languid and troubled
The beat of my heart responds:
'Do you see the station where you can buy
A ticket to the India of the soul?'
A sign...Blood-filled letters
Announce: 'Zelennaya,'-I know that here
Instead of cabbages and rutabagas
The heads of the dead are for sale.
In a red shirt, with a face like an udder,
The executioner cuts my head off, too,
It lies together with the others
Here, in a slippery box, at the very bottom.
And in a side street a board fence,
A house three windows wide, a gray lawn...
Tram-driver, stop,
Stop the tram now.
Mashenka, you lived here and sang,
You wove me, your betrothed, a carpet,
Where are your voice and body now,
Is it possible that you are dead?
How you groaned in your front chamber,
While I, in a powdered wig,
Went to introduce myself to the Empress
Never to see you again.
Now I understand: our freedom
Is only an indirect light from those times,
People and shadows stand at the entrance
To a zoological park of planets.
And a sudden, familiar, sweet wind blows,
A horseman's hand in an iron glove
And two hooves of his horse
Fly at me over the bridge.
That faithful stronghold of Orthodoxy,
Isaac's, is etched upon the sky,
There I will hold a service for Mashenka's health
And a requiem mass for myself.
And my heart goes on forever in gloom,
It is hard to breathe and painful to live...
Mashenka, I never would have dreamed
That such love and longing were possible.
poem by Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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TV Ariel (Fun Poem 64)
If you look on the top of houses,
you will find a TV Ariel there,
a place for little birdies to sit
and have their tea break.
Now with the boom
of digital technology
comes the satellite dish,
which looks like ET landed on the wall,
but then there is the cable.
Men come around and dig a hole
to plant the cable underground.
I still like the old TV Ariel,
unsightly it may be,
but at least the little birdies
had somewhere to stop awhile
and have their tea break.
7 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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Beautiful Cables (2) (Science poems)
Admiring the cables in the jersey Alta knit, asked
her - May I photograph it? – she brought me the
pattern – Now you can knit one yourself - mistaking
cable enthusiasm for craftwork interest - and I
smiled, not on your life
The beautiful cables just illustrate Many Worlds
Theory, every time we make a decision – coffee,
not tea, to the shops, not the sea - the universe
is said to split; yet I think it simply forms a bulky
cable at that point, then
Alternative lines come together in one direction -
maybe just like the Virgo supercluster movement
in which the Milky Way Galaxy travels - towards
the Great Attractor, like the Seven Samurai said,
small deviations in variables
Only create more cables in beautiful patterns, the
overall movement is steady; as we sway, the sun
spirals around the Milky Way, up and down like a
merry-go-round horse, all parallel universes
moving together - forming
Lovely cable patterns along the way, a delight
only seen by the gods…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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The Balltrap
(rod stewart)
Well my brother said he saw you in a downtown bar
With a price on your head and a black man on your arm
Cmon sister, I aint quite as dumb as I seem
Id rather see you dead with a rope round your neck
Or see you paralyzed in both your thighs
Cmon honey you got me crawling down on my knees
If you say its all over Ill pack up and go
But this time tomorrow youll be screamin on the phone
Come back baby and lets get naked tonight
Well I cant say yes and I cant say no
My heart wants to love you but my soul says go
Cmon sugar why dont you let your man off the hook
You got me in a balltrap
Lord Im eating outta your hands
You got me in a balltrap, hung up on a one-night stand
You got me in a balltrap, strung out on a midnight tram
First time I had you up on ol park lane
You didnt know my name even when I came
As I recall you let me walk home in the rain
You said Im cute but tell the truth
Its my body you want with the red hot juice
Cmon honey lets call the whole thing off
You got me in a balltrap
Lord, Im eating outta your hands
You got me in a balltrap, hung up on a one-night stand
You got me in a balltrap, strung out on a midnight tram
My mama dont like you and I aint surprised
You got poison lips, you got amphetamine eyes
She keeps on saying why dont you find a nice country girl
But ma I aint never been in love before
I cant sleep or eat all week
But friday night Ill be alright
On the midnight trampoline
Its a balltrap
Lord, Im eating outta your hands
You got me in a balltrap, hung up on a one-night stand
You got me in a balltrap, strung out on a midnight tram
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One way to get high speed to the home is over cable systems.
quote by Jon Postel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A derailed tram considers itself independent.
aphorism by Valeriu Butulescu, translated by Dan Costinaş
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Legend of The Corrievrechan
Prince Breacan of Denmark was lord of the strand
And lord of the billowy sea;
Lord of the sea and lord of the land,
He might have let maidens be!
A maiden he met with locks of gold,
Straying beside the sea:
Maidens listened in days of old,
And repented grievously.
Wiser he left her in evil wiles,
Went sailing over the sea;
Came to the lord of the Western Isles:
Give me thy daughter, said he.
The lord of the Isles he laughed, and said:
Only a king of the sea
May think the Maid of the Isles to wed,
And such, men call not thee!
Hold thine own three nights and days
In yon whirlpool of the sea,
Or turn thy prow and go thy ways
And let the isle-maiden be.
Prince Breacan he turned his dragon prow
To Denmark over the sea:
Wise women, he said, now tell me how
In yon whirlpool to anchor me.
Make a cable of hemp and a cable of wool
And a cable of maidens' hair,
And hie thee back to the roaring pool
And anchor in safety there.
The smiths of Greydule, on the eve of Yule,
Will forge three anchors rare;
The hemp thou shalt pull, thou shalt shear the wool,
And the maidens will bring their hair.
Of the hair that is brown thou shalt twist one strand,
Of the hair that is raven another;
Of the golden hair thou shalt twine a band
To bind the one to the other!
The smiths of Greydule, on the eve of Yule,
They forged three anchors rare;
The hemp he did pull, and he shore the wool,
And the maidens brought their hair.
He twisted the brown hair for one strand,
The raven hair for another;
He twined the golden hair in a band
To bind the one to the other.
He took the cables of hemp and wool.
He took the cable of hair,
He hied him back to the roaring pool,
He cast the three anchors there.
The whirlpool roared, and the day went by,
And night came down on the sea;
But or ever the morning broke the sky
The hemp was broken in three.
The night it came down, the whirlpool it ran,
The wind it fiercely blew;
And or ever the second morning began
The wool it parted in two.
The storm it roared all day the third,
The whirlpool wallowed about,
The night came down like a wild black bird,
But the cable of hair held out.
Round and round with a giddy swing
Went the sea-king through the dark;
Round went the rope in the swivel-ring,
Round reeled the straining bark.
Prince Breacan he stood on his dragon prow,
A lantern in his hand:
Blest be the maidens of Denmark now,
By them shall Denmark stand!
He watched the rope through the tempest black
A lantern in his hold:
Out, out, alack! one strand will crack!
It is the strand of gold!
The third morn clear and calm came out:
No anchored ship was there!
The golden strand in the cable stout
Was not all of maidens' hair.
poem by George MacDonald
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The tram that has run off the rails thinks it is independent.
aphorism by Valeriu Butulescu from Immensity of the Point, translated by Eva A. Ziem
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Plough of Time
Night closed my windows and
The sky became a crystal house
The crystal windows glowed
The moon
shown through them
through the whole house of crystal
A single star beamed down
its crystal cable
and drew a plough through the earth
unearthing bodies clasped together
couples embracing
around the earth
They clung together everywhere
emitting small cries
that did not reach the stars
The crystal earth turned
and the bodies with it
And the sky did not turn
nor the stars with it
The stars remained fixed
each with its crystal cable
beamed to earth
each attached to the immense plough
furrowing our lives
poem by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
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Christmas in Amsterdam
I spent Christmas in Amsterdam
Next I will try Japan, It wouldn’t harm
Stayed in a hostel at a farm
That grew only potatoes and yam
I visited the town on the towns’ tram
Breakfast was fried eggs and cold ham
I tipped the waitress calling her 'Madam'
Rode on the river canal across the dam
Waved across to who I believe was Uncle Sam
Clear sights hindered by snowy traffic jams
Allowed my camera to stay warm in my palm
Preventing pictures from been erased in ram
Lunch was stewed rice and lamb
I ate and ignored a baby crying in its pram
Then went to bed and took a nap to feel calm
Woke up to the sound of junkie trams
Opened my window and screamed out 'Damn'
Threw a bottle out missing someone’s arm
Smoked marijuana in and out, gram after gram
Sang a Dutch song I crammed
This was my Christmas in Amsterdam
It is all true, it aint no fairy scam
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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I'm doing 5000 seat theaters and audiences are going nuts, it's fantastic and it makes me very happy. I'm dirty, but not like this; I just do comedy that I find funny. I'm working on a new tv show for cable and it's not set up yet.
The Electric Tram To Kew
Through the swift night
I go to my love.
Tram bells are joy bells,
Bidding us move
On a golden path
Beneath balls of fire
Up hill and down dale,
To o'ertake desire.
Past the old shops
That my childhood knew,
Past hidden houses
And fields of dew
Lovely and secret
As thou, my friend,
Who art all heaven
At journey's end.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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You'll never be able to win!
You’ll never be able to win
Unless you are ready to change
Your current goal is protection
And our goal is revenge
You’ll never be able to win
Unless you are ready to change
You’re treating Arabs as slaves
We call you bad names in exchange
You’ll never be able to win
Unless you are ready to change
And putting people at risk
Is always considered derange
You’ll never be able to win
Unless you are ready to change
The country that split in halves
Not country, but something strange
You’ll never be able to win
Unless you are ready to change
Free Israel, free Palestine
It something that we can arrange
Our ancestors lived in peace
When they were not at war
For a piece of a Golden Fleece
For estate on a seashore
But our clash is the worst
Since there is one outcome
We’ll drag all planet Earth
Into the tram - tararam.
poem by Slava Olchevski
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The mag-pie-robins
Two mag-pie-robins
Sitting on an electric cable
Are singing love song
poem by Asif Andalib
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