The Bridge Across the Crick
Joseph Jones and Peter Dawking
Strove in an election fight;
And you'd think, to hear them talking,
Each upheld the people's right.
Each declared he stood for Progress and against his country's foes
When he sought their votes at Wombat, where the Muddy River flows.
Peter Dawking, scorning party,
As an Independent ran;
Joseph Jones, loud, blatant, hearty,
Was a solid party man.
But the electors up at Wombat vowed to him alone they'd stick
Who would give his sacred promise for the 'bridge across the crick'.
Bland, unfaithful politicians
Long had said this bridge should be.
Some soared on to high positions,
Some sank to obscurity;
Still the bridge had been denied it by its unrelenting foes -
By the foes of patient Wombat, where the Muddy River flows.
Up at Wombat Peter Dawking
Held a meeting in the hall,
And he'd spent an hour in talking
On the far-flung Empire's Call,
When a local greybeard, rising, smote him with this verbal brick:
'Are or are yeh not in favour of the bridge across the crick?'
Peter just ignored the question,
Proudly patriotic man;
Understand a mean suggestion
Men like Peter never can,
Or that free enlightened voters look on all Great Things as rot,
While a Burning Local Question fires each local patriot.
Joseph Jones, serene and smiling,
Took all Wombat to his heart.
'Ah,' he said, his 'blood was b'iling'
He declared it 'made him smart'
To reflect how they'd been swindled; and he cried in ringing tones
'Gentlemen, your bridge is certain if you cast your votes for Jones!'
Joseph Jones and Peter Dawking
Strove in an election fight,
And, when they had finished talking,
On the great election night
They stood level in the voting, and the hope of friends and foes
Hung upon the box from Wombat, where the Muddy River flows.
Then the Wombat votes were counted;
Jones, two hundred; Dawking, three!
Joseph, proud and smiling, mounted
On a public balcony,
And his friends were shrill with triumph, for that contest, shrewdly run,
In the House gave Jones's Party a majority of one.
Jones's Party - note the sequel
Rules that country of the Free,
And the fight, so nearly equal,
Swayed the whole land's destiny.
And the Big Things of the Nation are delayed till Hope grows sick
Offered up as sacrifices to 'the bridge across the crick'.
Dawking now is sadly fearing
For the crowd's intelligence.
Joseph, skilled in engineering,
Full of pomp and sly pretence,
Still holds out the pleasing promise of that bridge whene'er he goes
Up to Wombat, patient Wombat, where the Muddy River flows.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Of the Family
Hairy, Hairy, quite contrary
sat upon a stool.
Came the kindly wombat fairy
from the Fairy pool.
Said to Hairy, have a sherrie
makes the bowels loose,
Hairy thought it rather scary
maybe, too obtuse.
Hairy took a wife named Mary
fat she was and round
built a cosy, visionary
log home on the ground.
Home was small but Hairy loved it
'twas a sturdy log.
Found a lichen rug and shoved it
in to warm the frog.
Frog had been cast from his quarters
by his next of kin.
Sealed the wombat home with mortar
and they took him in.
Winter came and snow kept falling,
hibernate they did,
under Lichen there was balling
made another kid.
poem by Hairy Wombat
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mr. Jones
Mr. jones
Put a wiggle in your stride
Loosen up
I believe he'll be alright
Changing clothes
Now he's got ventilated slacks
Bouncing off the walls
Mr. jones is back!
Bulge out
And wind your waist
Tight pants
Got curly hair
Drinking cold beer
From metal cans
Moonshine
And handi-wipes!
Mr. jones is back in town
It's his lucky day
Hold up your hands and shout
Jones is on his way
Pitter pat
Mr. jones is back in town
Aces high
Now his pants are falling down
He looks so fine
In those patent leather shoes
Mr. jones, you look tired
I believe you'll be alright
Sales men
Conventioneers
Some rock stars
With tambourines
Short skirts
And skinny legs
Selling bibles
And real estate
It's a big day for mr. jones
He is not so square
Mr. jones will stick around
He's everybody's friend
Fast cars
And motorbikes
I'm sure glad
He's on our side
The jones gang
Down at the bar
Watch out, this time
They've gone too far
They call for mr. jones
They put him in charge
Mr. jones will help us out
He's a lucky guy
It is mr. jones' birthday party
For another year
In his hotel room party favors
It's a holiday
song performed by by Talking Heads
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweetwater Jones
Sweetwater Jones
Went riding
out in to the country night
he left his phone still ringing
ringing by the t.v.'s light
goodbye to you new york city
goodbye to every thing it used to be
you sure can could look good
Emerald City
oh but now your just a drag on me
goodbye to the ringing phone
goodbye to the old grindstone
and what use to be Jimmy Jones
now they known as Sweetwater Jones
Sweetwater Jones
keep on going
hey Jonese boy your'll doing find
smiling a smile and knowing
that your heading fore a better time
look at your face
hey its shinning
hey beaming like it never could
look at your eyes
hey you crying
but you never thought you fell so good
goodbye to the ringing phone
good,good,goodbye to the old grindstone
what used to be Jimmy Jones
now they known as Sweetwater Jones
ohhhhhhhh
ohhhhhhhh Sweetwater Jones
what use to be Jimmy Jones
now they known as Sweetwater Jones
now they known as Sweetwater Jones
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Weary Will
WEARY WILL by A.B. "Banjo" Paterson
The strongest creature for his size
But least equipped for combat
That dwells beneath Australian skies
Is Weary Will the Wombat.
He digs his homestead underground,
He's neither shrewd nor clever;
For kangaroos can leap and bound
But wombats dig forever.
The boundary rider's netting fence
Excites his irritation;
It is to his untutored sense
His pet abomination.
And when to pass it he desires,
Upon his task he'll centre
And dig a hole beneath the wires
Through which the dingoes enter.
And when to block the hole they strain
With logs and stones and rubble,
Bill Wombat digs it out again
Without the slightest trouble.
The boundary rider bows to fate,
Admits he's made a blunder
And rigs a little swinging gate
To let Bill Wombat under.
So most contentedly he goes
Between his haunt and burrow:
He does the only thing he knows,
And does it very thorough.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Me And Mrs. Jones
Me and mrs. jones, we got a thing going on,
We both know that it's wrong
But it's much too strong to let it cool down now.
We meet ev'ry day at the same cafe,
Six-thirty i know she'll be there,
Holding hands, making all kinds of plans
While the jukebox plays our favorite song.
Me and mrs., mrs. jones, mrs. jones, mrs. jones,
Mrs. jones got a thing going on,
We both know that it's wrong,
But it's much too strong to let it cool down now.
We gotta be extra careful that we don't build our hopes too high
Cause she's got her own obligations and so do i,
Me, me and mrs., mrs. jones, mrs. jones, mrs. jones,
Mrs. jones got a thing going on,
We both know that it's wrong,
But it's much too strong to let it cool down now.
Well, it's time for us to be leaving,
Iit hurts so much, it hurts so much inside,
Now she'll go her way and i'll go mine,
But tomorrow we'll meet the same place, the same time.
Me and mrs. jones, mrs. jones, mrs. jones.
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Me & Mrs. Jones
Me and Mrs. Jones, we got a thing going on,
We both know that it's wrong
But it's much too strong to let it cool down now.
We meet ev'ry day at the same cafe,
Six-thirty I know she'll be there,
Holding hands, making all kinds of plans
While the jukebox plays our favorite song.
Me and Mrs., Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones,
Mrs. Jones got a thing going on,
We both know that it's wrong,
But it's much too strong to let it cool down now.
We gotta be extra careful that we don't build our hopes too high
Cause she's got her own obligations and so do I,
Me, me and Mrs., Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones,
Mrs. Jones got a thing going on,
We both know that it's wrong,
But it's much too strong to let it cool down now.
Well, it's time for us to be leaving,
Iit hurts so much, it hurts so much inside,
Now she'll go her way and I'll go mine,
But tomorrow we'll meet the same place, the same time.
Me and Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones.
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Of the Family
Hairy, Hairy, quite contrary
sat upon a stool.
Came the kindly wombat fairy
from the Fairy pool.
Said to Hairy, have a sherrie
makes the bowels loose,
Hairy thought it rather scary
maybe, too obtuse.
Hairy took a wife named Mary
fat she was and round
built a cosy, visionary
log home on the ground.
Home was small but Hairy loved it
'twas a sturdy log.
Found a lichen rug and shoved it
in to warm the frog.
Frog had been cast from his quarters
by his next of kin.
Sealed the wombat home with mortar
and they took him in.
Winter came and snow kept falling,
hibernate they did,
under Lichen there was balling
made another kid.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Have You Met Miss Jones?
Have you met Miss Jones
Someone said as we shook hands
She was just Miss Jones to me
Then I said Miss Jones
You're a girl who understands
I'm a man who must be free.
And all at once I lost my breath
And all at once was scared to death
And all at once I own the earth and sky
Now I met Miss Jones
And well keep on meeting till we die
Miss Jones and I
And all at once I lost my breath
And all at once was scared to death
And all at once I own the earth and sky
Now I met Miss Jones
And well keep on meeting till we die
Miss Jones and I
Miss Jones and I
Miss Jones and I
song performed by by Robbie Williams from Swing When You're Winning
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Have You Met Miss Jones?
It happened
I felt it happened
I was awake
I wasnt blind
I didnt think
I felt it happened
Now I belive in matter over mind.
And now you see we mustnt wait
The nearest moment that we marry is too late!
Have you met miss jones
Someone said as we shook hands
She was just miss jones to me
Then I said miss jones
Youre a girl who understand
Im a boy who must be free.
And all at once I lost my breath
And all at once was scared to death
And all at once I hold the eatrh and sky!
Now I met miss jones
And well keep on meeting till we die
Miss jones and i
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jones M.P.
It was thus in the beginning: With a sporting chance of winning,
Jones contested an election years ago.
He was young, enthusiastic, and maintained that measures drastic
Were imperative to save the land from Woe.
For the laudable admiration of this budding politician,
Who with zeal to serve his bleeding country burned,
Was to make a reputation as a saviour of the nation,
And a clean and honest statesman - if returned.
The electors took a fancy to the youngster, and the chance he
Had of winning was improved where'er he went.
His high motives were respected, and, in short, he was elected;
And an Honest Man went into Parliament.
Went in to strive for glory where there held a system hoary,
Founded on the good old English party plan.
Wherefore Jones, half understanding things, submitted to the branding,
And became, perforce, a solid party man.
But when he heard a mention of the Whip
Party Whip,
He gave answer, as he curled a scornful lip,
And his honest zeal upbore him,
That his course was plain before him,
Just the clean, straight course of earnest statesmanship.
For young Jones held notions utterly absurd;
And the old campaigners sniggered when they heard
That young patriot unfolding
His stern views, and Truth upholding,
But he meant it, when he said it, ev'ry word.
For a time, in all debating, Jones was famed for boldly stating
Plain, blunt truths and keen uncomfortable facts;
Till his colleagues grew uneasy, for, in fashion bland and breezy,
He proposed to back his burning words with acts.
And they told him, with much cunning, that he might be in the running
For the leadership if he'd consent to hedge.
He was bold, ambitious, clever, but advance, they said, he'd never
While he clung to childish notions of his pledge.
Brave young Jones at first was scornful; but, ere long, with visage mournful,
He sat down to think on what he stood to lose.
And his party friends, with caution, hinted honours were his portion
If he'd but consent to water down his views.
And they e'en suggested slyly that, although they valued highly
His great services, defiance was not meet.
Till, his splendid dream departing, Jones saw plainly that a parting
With his party meant a parting with his seat.
It was then he heard the cracking of the Whip
Party Whip!
And he found the System had him in its grip,
On the one hand was devotion
To his duty, with promotion
On the other, and the hope of leadership.
For he'd come unto the parting of the ways,
And he hearkened to the voice of fulsome praise
To the promise of preferment,
And - there happened the interment
Of the self-respecting Jones of other days.
Step by step he climbed the ladder: now a wiser if a sadder
And a meaner politician, till he led,
And his party, though erratic, was lukewarmly democratic;
Thus he strove to soothe his conscience on this head.
But there came a day of clamour when his colleagues vowed the glamour
Of his visions was all bunkum and a myth;
For these champions of the nation had perceived their sole salvation
Lay in fusing with the Tory leader, Smith.
Jones at first held out, refusing all suggestions of his fusing
With this person he had hitherto abused.
But he marked his sullen backing, and he heard the whip a-cracking,
Then he abjectly surrendered all, and - 'fused' ...
Jones is now a semi-leader. O, consider, gentle reader;
Think, how many politicians can you name
Who, though starting straight and cleanly, have surrendered weakly, meanly,
When their party bid them fuse and 'play the game'?
How they shudder at the cracking of the Whip
Tory whip.
How they tremble lest the slightest fault or slip
Should offend their august master,
And upon them bring disaster,
And deprive them of their cherished membership.
'Twas to save their bleeding country in they went,
And to bleed it save themselves in Parliament;
Ev'ry worthy cause neglecting,
Their own worthless skins protecting,
And a fig for all the 'views' they 'represent.'
O, the 'freedom' of the Fusion Party man!
Noble man!
Abject creature of the grim old Tory clan,
Waiting, watching, shuffling, veering,
Scheming, plotting, engineering
Sorry product of the 'Good old Party Plan.'
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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New York Mining Disaster 1941
Verse 1:
In the event of something happening to me
There is something I would like you all to see
It's just a photograph of someone that I knew
Chorus:
Have you seen my wife, Mr. Jones?
Do you know what it's like on the outside?
Don't go talking too loud, you'll cause a landslide,
Mr. Jones.
Verse 2:
I keep straining my ears to hear a sound
Maybe someone is digging underground
Or have they given up and all gone home to bed?
Thinking those who aren't so distant must be dead?
Chorus:
Have you seen my wife, Mr. Jones?
Do you know what it's like on the outside?
Don't go talking too loud, you'll cause a landslide,
Mr. Jones
Verse 3 (repeat of verse 1):
In the event of something happening to me
There is something I would like you all to see
It's just a photograph of someone that I knew
Chorus:
Have you seen my wife, Mr. Jones?
Do you know what it's like on the outside?
Don't go talking too loud, you'll cause a landslide,
Mr. Jo - o - o - o - ones
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When you are about to die, a wombat is better than no company at all.
quote by Roger Zelazny
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tom Jones International
REFUGEECAMP
TURN ME UP GIVE ME SOME MORE
TOM JONES YOUR READY BABY
YEAH THATS IT
LETGO
REFREIN:
1, 2 TOMS COMING FOR YOU
3, 4 GONNA BUST THROUGH YOUR DOOR
5, 6 YOU BETTER LOCK UP YOUR CHICKS
7, 8 BEFORE ITS TO LATE
ACT RIGHT LADIES SEEM FORGOT BODY
FEELS LIKE PUSSYCATS COME OUT
LATE NIGHT NO MATTER WHERE THEY ROME
THEY ALWAYS GONNA COME HOME TO TOM JONES
30 YEARS STRONG NEVER WENT WRONG
STILL IN THE GAME I DECIDE WHEN IM GONE
NOW IM GONNA SET THE WHOLE HOUSE ON FIRE
I WONT STOP ROCKING TILL I RETIRE
YOU KNOW AND I KNOW YOU GOTTA MOVE ON THE DANCEFLOOR
WERE BLOWING UP THIS PARTY WITH THIS SEXBOMB
TAKE MY HAND UNDERSTAND ILL ROCK FOR YEARS ALL ACROSS THE LAND
SO LET ME SEE YOU SHAKE IT TILL THE SUN COMES
REFREIN:
NOW YOUR IN THE MOOD
SO LET ME SEE YOU MOVE
I GOT YOU HYNOTIZED WITH THE SOUND OF THE GROOVE
FROM LONDON TO L.A
AND BACK TO THE N.Y
TURN ON YOUR SATELITES SO WE CAN SEE IT WORLDWIDE
YOU KNOW AND I KNOW YOU GOTTA MOVE ON THE DANCEFLOOR
WERE BLOWING UP THIS PARTY WITH THIS SEXBOMB
TAKE MY HAND UNDERSTAND I LL ROCK FOR YEARS ALL ACROSS THE LAND
SO LET ME SEE YOU SHAKE IT TILL THE SUN COMES
REFREIN:
PUSSYCATS COME OUT LATE NIGHT
GIRL YOU MAKE ME WANNA HOLLER
TOM JONES INTERNATIONAL BABY (3*)
REFREIN:
TOM JONES OH OH OH OH OH TOM JONES (2*)
song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wombat
OH how the family affections combat
Within this heart, and each hour flings a bomb at
My burning soul! Neither from owl nor from bat
Can peace be gained until I clasp my wombat.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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The River of Blood
It’s the river of blood
Initiated by the enemies of God
And when advised too or told to stop
They just give you the nod
The nod of ignorance and cruelty
The nod of no life and no feel
As they are told about they’re evilness
They believe that none of it is real
It’s the river of blood
That flows down a dark and red stream
And as I dip my hand in, it feels like sour, bitter cream
It’s the river of blood
The river of cruelty and pain
The river of blood
The river that flows in vain
The river that will never end
The river full of the dead
The river where they remain silently hopeless
The river where the majority of them bled
It’s this river of blood where I inject my power and strength from
It’s this river full of blood where my victory will soon come
The river of blood, the river that will soon contain me
It’s this river where my blood has long sought to be
The river of blood that shall soon end with an atrocious fight
The river of blood, the river that will no longer stay at sight.
poem by Marria Attar
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I liked the koala, wallaby, and I chilled with a kangaroo a bit. There was a wombat that I quite enjoyed also.
quote by Todd Barry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bridge Who Dreams Of Being A River
the bridge finally
confesses to the river
that in every surge of
the water below it
it experiences what human
males call an erection
it strengthens every
cable that runs inside it
the heavy clouds rain on it
and the sun scorches it with heat
every bridge confesses innocence
to this nonsense
the bridge after all is not what
it is, ...it is still going to be
not just a bridge but soon
when it collapses...a river too.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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To My Daughter
Probably only one memory
Fragile bridge passed the river rapids
The bridge was really glad
when your feet step on
Stand up on top of tweak
Then the longer it confidently
And finally you can run on it
Maybe you're be able to laugh now
But when you were sad
Don't you forget the bridge
Hold -the bridge it was- necessarily
because the bridge, it was me
(2012)
poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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As Old George Said
Said old George Jones: 'All in a hundred years.
'Tis little time enough, and well may make
This youthful country proud among its peers
Of progress wooed and won for progress sake.
A splendid city shining by the sea
And all that count of wealth and worth she owns
Speaks well enough for our first century,'
Said old George Jones.
''Tis with a country much as 'tis with men:
The fevered morn o' life goes all for gain -
For all the things gain signifies; an' then,
We pause to con life's lesson o'er again
And find, if be that wisdom comes with years,
That gettin', gainin', holdin', scarce atones
Nor pays for all man's toil an' sweat and tears,'
Said old George Jones.
'Not with the golden profit won thro' trade,
Not with the tawdry treasure that we wrest
From this scarred earth, nor things men's hands have made
Comes any answer to man's age-long quest.
Not at the gates of such material goals
Nor pedigreed cities builded high with stones
Lies ought to serve or satisfy men's souls,'
Said old George Jones.
Said old George Jones, 'This is an old man's pray'r:
That gainin' shall not ever wholly serve
This land o' mine when I drift otherwhere
To seek what share o' peace I may deserve;
But that the treasure of the one true worth
Shall gleam at last above my whitening bones
For wiser mortals of a wiser earth,'
Said old George Jones.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Down At The Bridge
I went down to the (? ? ? ? ? )
Didnt really know what I was going for
Must have been a stroke of destiny
Thats a break (into me)? ?
We met in the frozen food section
It was mrs. swanson love connection
Down at the bridge. down down down at the bridge
Down at the bridge. down down down at the bridge
You can really tell a lot about a man
By if he likes his peaches to eat fresh or canned
Does he like tide or prefer wisk
Ive never go to know a guy as good as this
You ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
It was love at first sigh, there was no denying
Down at the bridge. down down down at the bridge
Down at the bridge. down down down at the bridge
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
Its not real fast, but it goes real far
Like what I say, wouldnt have it any other way way way
I walk slowly towards you down the aisle
I got this future flash and it made me smile
I knew right then I had better leave or forever hold my peace
Put your grocery bag inside my cart
And I knew Id never get ya out of my heart
Down at the bridge. down down down at the bridge
Down at the bridge. down down down at the bridge
Transcribed by adam longfellow
song performed by by Jewel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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