Ravenous Bill
Oh! a terrible glutton was "Ravenous Bill,"
Mate of the good ship "Whippoorwill;"
And seldom it was he could get his fill;
A fact he oft would mention.
And many a time, when eating his beef,
Would the captain tell him to "take a reef;"
But to such requests he ever was "deaf,"
This being a bone of contention.
He cheated the sailors out of their prog,
Nor left e'en a scrap for the captain's dog:
He was such a gourmand and terrible "hog,"
That he'd" eat you out of your house."
He thought no more of a leg of ham,
A peck of potatoes, and shoulder of lamb,
With all the "fixin's," — wine, jellies, and jam,-
Than a cat would think of a mouse.
At length, on distant Southern sands
The vessel was stranded; and all the hands
Were captured by some of the savage bands
Who lived on that foreign coast.
Poor Bill was taken among the rest,
And became at once a cannibal's guest;
(No pleasant position, it must be confessed,
To wake up some morning already " dressed"
For a native's " fancy roast.")
For want of rations Bill had grown thin,-
Nothing, in fact, but bones and skin;
And his heathen master (as ugly as sin,
To find he'd so badly been " taken in")
Devised a horrible plan.
To wit: a bamboo cage he'd make,
And put in Bill, with a monstrous snake
Called the anaconda, that could easily " take"
Most any "reasonable" man.
At last 'twas finished, — the cage was done;
The snake was captured, — a monstrous one:
The natives assembled to see the " fun,"
And "settle their Bill" they said, as a pun,
"Referring to the "collation."
Our hero was thrust into the cage
Where the snake was coiling itself with rage,
Eager and waiting its prey to engage,—
An engaging occupation.
As Bill and the snake met face to face,
He was folded at once in its close embrace;
And the natives, thinking he'd "ran his race,"
Began on his fate to ponder;
When — what d'ye suppose first met their eyes
As the dust from the scene did slowly rise,
They found that Bill, to their great surprise,
Had SWALLOWED THE ANACONDA!
poem by Charles Follen Adams from Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
The Continuing Story Of Bungalow Bill
Hey, bungalow bill
What did you kill
Bungalow bill?
He went out tiger hunting with his elephant and gun
In case of accidents he always took his mom
He's the all american bullet-headed saxon mother's son.
All the children sing
Hey bungalow bill
What did you kill
Bungalow bill?
Deep in the jungle where the mighty tiger lies
Bill and his elephants were taken by surprise
So captain marvel zapped in right between the eyes
All the children sing
Hey, bungalow bill
What did you kill
Bungalow bill?
The children asked him if to kill was not a sin
Not when he looked so fierce, his mother butted in
If looks could kill it would have been us instead of him
All the children sing
Hey, bungalow bill
What did you kill
Bungalow bill?
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Anna Hazare’s Crusade against Corruption in India
Anna wants a Lokpal bill strong
Anna wants a Lokpal bill fast
Anna wants a Lokpal bill full
Anna wants a Lokpal bill now
Anna wants a Lokpal bill by fast
Anna wants a Lokpal bill first
Anna wants a Lokpal bill for all
Anna wants a Lokpal bill – his call
Anna wants a Lokpal bill now
Anna wants a Lokpal bill without delay
Anna wants a Lokpal bill, come what may
Anna wants a Lokpal bill even if it means death.
There is no turning back
There is no giving up the fast
There is no fear of arrest
There is no worry about death
For,
India needs an anti-corruption bill
India is monetarily seriously ill
India needs the honesty drill
India has its wealth outside but inside will
Bring the bill
Heed people’s will
Give them the fill
Heal those hearts ill.
Victory to India; victory to Lokpal Bill; victory to Anna!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 22-08-11
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gypsy Jill
They're hanging Bill at eight o' clock,
And millions will applaud.
He killed, and so they have to kill,
Such is the will of God.
His brother Tom is on my bed
To keep me comforted.
I see his bleary, blotchy face,
I hear his sodden snore.
He plans that he can take Bill's place;
I felt worse than a whore
As in his arms I cried all night,
Thinking of poor Bill's plight.
I keep my eyes upon the clock;
It nears the stroke of eight.
I think how bravely Bill will walk
To meet his gallows fate . . .
His loaded gun is in the tent,--
I know now what he meant.
Though Tom is boastful he will wed
With me, no more to part,
I'll put a bullet through his head,
Another through my heart:
At eight, stone-dead we three will be,
--Bill, Tom and me.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Railroad Bill
Railroad bill were gonna railroad bill
He never works and he never will
Im gonna ride on a railroad bill
Im gonna ride on a railroad bill
Railroad bill he was a mighty bad man
Kill anybody that he think he can
Gonna ride old railroad bill
Gonna ride old railroad bill
Im singin railroad bill,
Im talkin railroad bill, uh-huh-huh
He never worked and he never will
Im gonna ride on railroad bill, yeah
(cmon) Im gonna ride on railroad bill
Well old railroad bill he done stole my wife
Im gonna check him down Im gonna take his life
Gonna ride on railroad bill
Gonna ride railroad bill
Im singin railroad bill
On a railroad bill
He never worked and he never will
Im gonna ride on railroad bill
Im gonna ride on railroad bill
Railroad bill he was a mighty bad man
Kill anybody that he think he can
Gonna ride old railroad bill
Gonna ride railroad bill
Im talkin railroad bill
I love him railroad bill
Uh-huh-huh
He never worked and he never will
Gonna ride on railroad bill
Yeah, gonna ride on railroad bill
Well Im goin up the mountain
Yes Im goin out west
I got a mighty big pistol
Stickin out of my vest
Gonna ride old railroad bill
Gonna ride (alright)
Railroad bill, I love that railroad bill
Uh-huh-huh
He never works and he never will
Im gonna ride on a railroad bill
Im gonna ride on railroad bill
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lonesome Cowboy Bill
(reed)
Lonesome cowboy bill
Rides the rodeo.
Lonesome cowboy bill,
You got to see him yodel ay-hee-ho!
Lonesome cowboy bill
Rides the rodeo.
Ever since he was a little lad,
Loves the rodeo.
Bucking broncs, yeah, sipping wine,
You got to see him go,
And all the ten-gallon girls
Love to hear him yodel ay-hee-ho!
Because
Lonesome cowboy bill
Rides the rodeo.
Lonesome cowboy bill,
You got to see him yodel ay-hee-ho!
Oh, lonesome cowboy bill,
You still ride the rodeo.
Up round the colorado shore,
Down by the ohio.
Sometimes even new orleans,
Down by the mardi gras,
And all the ten-gallon girls
Love to hear him yodel ay-hee-ho!
Hes lonesome cowboy bill, he rides the rodeo.
Just a lonesome cowboy bill,
You got to see him yodel ay-hee-ho!
You got to see him in the rodeo
When hes ridin, goin too darn fast.
You got to hear the people scream and shout
They call him,
Lonesome cowboy bill
Hes a
Lonesome cowboy bill
He goes...
Lonesome cowboy bill
Rides the rodeo.
Lonesome cowboy bill,
You got to see him yodel ay-hee-ho!
I said,
You got to see him yodel ay-hee-ho!
Oh hes a lonesome cowboy bill, lonesome cowboy bill...
song performed by by Velvet Underground
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fire Bugs
Look 'ere. I'll bet a 'arf-a-crown
To anythink you like to name (said Bushy Bill),
If country fellers went to town,
An' burnt a few big buildin's down,
An' quids an' quids went up in flame (said Bushy Bill),
Do you suppose, by any chance,
You'd put it down to ignorance.
An' let 'em go their dilly way
To do the trick some other day? (Said Bushy Bill).
No fear. You'd take that crim'nal lot
An' likely lynch 'em on the spot.
Fine sense of property you got (said Bushy Bill).
Yet city coves come up this way,
Shootin' or goin' campin' out (said Bushy Bill).
But are they careful blokes? Not they.
An' when their camp fire gets away
They wonder what it's all about (said Bushy Bill).
They sling their matches round the place,
An' carry on a fair disgrace
Wise coots they are, all in the know,
Who reckons country coves is slow (said Bushy Bill).
But when two hundred thousand quid
Goes up, they dunno wot they did.
They can't think 'ow that green scrub caught
They never knoo. They never thought.
Look 'ere. IT'S TIME YOUS BLOKES WAS TAUGHT (said Bushy Bill).
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mulligan's Shanty
Things is just the same as ever
On the outer Never-Never,
And you look to find the stock of liquor scanty,
But we found things worse than ordin'ry,
And in fact a bit extraordin'ry
When myself and Bill the Pinker struck the shanty.
'Shanty,' says you. 'What shanty?'
Why, Mulligan's shanty.
I says 'Whisky'; Bill says 'Brandy';
But there wasn't either handy,
For the boss was out of liquor in that line.
'Well, I'll try a rum,' says Billy.
'Got no rum,' he answers, chilly,
'But I'll recommend a decent drop o' tine.'
'Tine?' says Bill; 'what tine?'
'Why, turpentine!'
'Blow me blue!' says Bill the Pinker,
'Can't yer give us a deep-sinker?
Ain't you got a cask o' beer behind the screen?'
Bill was getting pretty cranky,
But there wasn't any swanky.
Says the landlord, 'Why not have a drop o' sene?'
'Sene?' says Bill; 'what sene?'
'Why, kerosene!'
Well, we wouldn't spend a tanner,
But the boss's pleasant manner
All our cursing couldn't easily demolish.
Says he, 'Strike me perpendic'lar
But you beggars are partic'lar,
Why, the squatter in the parlor's drinking polish!'
'Polish?' says Bill, 'what polish?'
'Why, furniture-polish!'
poem by William Thomas Goodge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Oil from Bill Shane
I got the oil: too right. A cove called Shane.
Yes; ole Bill Shane. You've 'eard of 'im, of course.
Big racin' 'ead. There's no need to explain
The things he don't know about a 'orse.
Good ole Bill Shane. They say he's made a pile
At puntin'. Shrewd! I wis I 'ad 'is brain.
An' does 'e know the game? Well, I should smile.
They can't put nothin' over ole Bill Shane.
Yes; Shane, Bill Shane ... Aw, listen, lad. Wake up!
Why everybody's 'eard of ole Bill Shane.
They say he made ten thousan' on the Cup
Last year, an' now he's got the oil again.
Wot? Owner? Trainer? Nah! Who 'eeds their guff?
Bill's a big racin' man - a punter. See?
Top dog. I alwiz sez wot's good enough
For ole Bill Shane is good enough for me.
Yes; he gave me the oil. I got it straight
Well, nearly straight. Of course, I've never spoke
To Bill 'imself direck. I got a mate
Wot knows a bloke wot knows another bloke
Wot's frien's with Shane, an' so - you un'erstand.
Wot? me give you the tip? Aw, take a walk!
Yeh think I'd do a thing so under'and?
Bill Shane would kill me if I was to talk.
Well, listen ... Now, for gosh sake, keep it dark.
An' don't let no one know it came from Shane.
Keep it strick secret. I would be a nark
To let you chuck yer money down the drain ...
Wazzat you said? He's scratched? 'Ere! Lemme look!
Scratched! Ain't that noos to knock a man clean out?
I alwiz said this puntin' game was crook ...
Who? Shane? Aw, I dunno. Some racin' tout.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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BillJim
Down to it is Plugger Bill,
Lyin' crumpled, white 'n' still.
Me 'n' him
Chips in when the scrap begins,
Carin' nothin' for our skins,
Chi-iked as the 'Eavenly Twins-
Bill 'n' Jim.
They 'ave outed Bill at last,
Slugged me cobber hard 'n' fast.
It's a kill.
See the purple of his lip
'N' the red 'n' oozy drip!
Ends our great ole partnership-
Jim 'n' Bill
Mates we was when we was kids;
Camp, 'n' ship, 'n' Pyramids,
Him 'n' me
Hung together, 'n' we tore
Up the heights from Helles shore,
Bill a long 'arf head afore,
Fine to see!
Then it was we took a touch-
Simple puncture, nothin' much;
But we lay
'N' we stays the count, it seems,
In a sorter realm of dreams
Where the sun infernal gleams
Night 'n' day;
Boilin', fryin' achin', dumb,
Waitin' till the stretchers come,
Patiently.
I hangs on to 'arf a cup.
Which I wants ole Bill to sup.
Damn if he ain't savin' up
His for me!
When they come to lift my head
I am softly kiddin' dead,
For a game,
So's they'll first take on his gills.
Over, though, me scheme he spills-
Bli'me, this ole take-down Bill's
Done the same!
But he isn't kiddin' now,
And it knocks me anyhow
Seein' him.
We was both agreed before,
Though it got 'em by the score,
Two was goin' to beat this war-
But 'n' Jim.
Mate o' mine, yiv stayed it through.
Hard luck, Bill-for me 'n' you
Hard 'n' grim.
They have got me Cobber true,
But I'm stickin' tight ez glue….
Bill, there's one who'll plug for two-
It is Jim!
poem by Edward George Dyson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Agenda
In a brief briefings
We the animals and me
Assemble to corner the evils
the deer give a motion, from now on
we will not kill others and ban eating their flesh
but toad with its big head stands up and says,
we can eat everything but not grass think please about us,
snake puts up its hood and supports the toad as this fits its own agenda,
peacock with glee puts its hands up too and says lets us pass quickly the bill,
so that we can kill and make a feast out of their flesh and the peacock's first prey in front of me
is the snake, I am ashamed of the act that I can not protect the snake, from now then I hate myself.
poem by Abdul Wahab
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I like Bill a lot. As Bill is presented, I mean you don't ever see Bill blow her head off? You know? And I think what Quentin has done is he created a monster.
quote by David Carradine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Reckoning
It's fine to have a blow-out in a fancy restaurant,
With terrapin and canvas-back and all the wine you want;
To enjoy the flowers and music, watch the pretty women pass,
Smoke a choice cigar, and sip the wealthy water in your glass.
It's bully in a high-toned joint to eat and drink your fill,
But it's quite another matter when you
Pay the bill.
It's great to go out every night on fun or pleasure bent;
To wear your glad rags always and to never save a cent;
To drift along regardless, have a good time every trip;
To hit the high spots sometimes, and to let your chances slip;
To know you're acting foolish, yet to go on fooling still,
Till Nature calls a show-down, and you
Pay the bill.
Time has got a little bill -- get wise while yet you may,
For the debit side's increasing in a most alarming way;
The things you had no right to do, the things you should have done,
They're all put down; it's up to you to pay for every one.
So eat, drink and be merry, have a good time if you will,
But God help you when the time comes, and you
Foot the bill.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am Bill!
I like to drink and I love to smoke
Which sadly though is not a joke
I even like to take an occasionally pill,
So I now have a really bad heart
Which is to blame on my part
So now, you can call me Bill.
I am not at all very tall
Others say that I am very small
Men are mountains I am just a hill,
I have no hair upon my head
So my head is covered or it would be red
So of course, you can call me Bill.
I have myself this one daughter
Whom says she has no father
That statement makes me feel so very ill,
It makes me feel also really sad
I cheated on her mom so she is mad
So of course, you can call me Bill.
I ride myself a motor bike
As it reminds me of my other trike
I ride it to impress women and others with a thrill,
I want people to think I am rough
But I am coward and I am not at all tough
So of course, you can call me Bill.
I have myself a girlfriend
She is just like me till the very end
She’ll do anything for me even against her will,
She has cheated and she has also lied
Threw away her dignity and also her pride
So of course, you can call me Bill.
I don’t have a job so I never go to work
Other persons call me lazy but that’s a perk
As now our government pays for all of my bill,
They also paid me to go to school
I used the money but I am still a fool
So of course, you can call me Bill.
I am jealous what other men own
As I have nothing living inside a broken home
So from others I like to rob and also steal,
It is hard to see me while I prowl at night
Where I cower in the shadows away from light
So of course, you can call me Bill.
When my life comes to an end
And I go to meet GOD with all my sin
Then finally I will know what in life was real,
I shamefully will walk to GOD in my platform shoes
While covering my head so he wont be amused
And I will say I am sorry; but of course, I am Bill.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Happened to Billy Ray?
As a matter of stature, this man is not very tall.
The stories he tells could fill a shopping mall.
Bill is a word technician in a local high school.
As an English teacher, he is nobody's fool.
Generations of students have learned at his feet.
They will not face the future being incomplete.
How many of us wished we'd had a teacher like Bill?
Thinking of my English teacher still gives me a chill.
Now Bill the Great also likes to fish from time to time.
According to him, his fishing ability is simply sublime.
He worked the worm like strumming a fine instrument.
The poor bass ending up on his hook was his testament.
I write this poem to honor a simple English teacher.
Oh by the way, he once was a country preacher.
Unappreciated by others, he left his current position.
Making more money became his new mission.
In 2006, he had a motorcycle accident that was very grim.
Thereafter, another in his life began to assimilate him.
Resistance proved futile as he had finally become the 'Borg.'
As a result, you'll find our relationship residing in the morgue.
poem by Manager Poet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Big Bad Bill
Well,way down yonder in louisville,
Lived a cat named big bad bill,
I wants to tell ya,
Ah the cat was rough and tough and would strutt his stuff
Had the whole town scared to death,
When he walked by they all held their breath,
He's a fighting man, sure enough
And then bill got himself a wife,
Now he leads a different life...
Big bad bill is sweet william now,
Married life done changed him somehow,
He's the man the town used to fear,
Now they all call him sweet pappa willie dear,
Stronger than samson i declare,
Til the brown skinned woman,
Bobbed his hair
Big bad bill dont fight any more,( no he dont )
Doing the dishes,mopping up that floor ( yes he is )
Well he used to go out drinking,
Looking for a fight,
Now he gotta see that woman,everynight,
Big bad bill is sweet william now
Ah play it boys.
I likes that jazz.
Big bad bill dont fight any more,( no he dont )
Doing the dishes,mopping up that floor ( yes he is )
Well he used to go out drinking,
Looking for a fight,
Now he gotta see that woman,everynight,
Big bad bill is sweet william now ( doing the dishes )
Big bad bill is sweet william now ( mop up dat floor )
Big bad bill is sweet william now
Cha........ yeah!
song performed by by Van Halen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Big Bad Bill (is Sweet William Now)
Well,way down yonder in louisville,
Lived a cat named big bad bill,
I wants to tell ya,
Ah the cat was rough and tough and would strutt his stuff
Had the whole town scared to death,
When he walked by they all held their breath,
Hes a fighting man, sure enough
And then bill got himself a wife,
Now he leads a different life...
Big bad bill is sweet william now,
Married life done changed him somehow,
Hes the man the town used to fear,
Now they all call him sweet pappa willie dear,
Stronger than samson I declare,
Til the brown skinned woman,
Bobbed his hair
Big bad bill dont fight any more,( no he dont )
Doing the dishes,mopping up that floor ( yes he is )
Well he used to go out drinking,
Looking for a fight,
Now he gotta see that woman,everynight,
Big bad bill is sweet william now
Ah play it boys.
I likes that jazz.
Big bad bill dont fight any more,( no he dont )
Doing the dishes,mopping up that floor ( yes he is )
Well he used to go out drinking,
Looking for a fight,
Now he gotta see that woman,everynight,
Big bad bill is sweet william now ( doing the dishes )
Big bad bill is sweet william now ( mop up dat floor )
Big bad bill is sweet william now
Cha........ yeah!
song performed by by Van Halen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think that, on the reconciliation issue, if they had the votes, we wouldn't have had the summit. And if they try to go through reconciliation, it will be a change in semantics. Instead of the American people saying 'stop the bill' or 'kill the bill,' it's all going to be about repealing the bill. That's not the kind of discussion that they want.
quote by Marsha Blackburn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ive Been Away
Ive been away so long
Wonder where I went wrong
Spent my last years in a cell
Never ever go away again
Ive been so sad and lonely
Never ever ever gonna go away again
Its a waste of time doing time
When you dindt commit a crime
It wasnt me it was my brother bill
And Id have to tell never gonna speak to bill again
Hes made me sad and lonely
Never ever gonna speak to brother bill again
It was no use, they put my brother on the jury
He bribed the others cause he owns the local brewery
They let me out today
Brother bills gonna pay
No ones ever gonna speak to bill again
Never ever gonna speak to bill again
Hell be too cold and bony
Never ever gonna go away again
Never ever gonna go away again
Never ever gonna go away again
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Corny Bill
His old clay pipe stuck in his mouth,
His hat pushed from his brow,
His dress best fitted for the South --
I think I see him now;
And when the city streets are still,
And sleep upon me comes,
I often dream that me an' Bill
Are humpin' of our drums.
I mind the time when first I came
A stranger to the land;
And I was stumped, an' sick, an' lame
When Bill took me in hand.
Old Bill was what a chap would call
A friend in poverty,
And he was very kind to all,
And very good to me.
We'd camp beneath the lonely trees
And sit beside the blaze,
A-nursin' of our wearied knees,
A-smokin' of our clays.
Or when we'd journeyed damp an' far,
An' clouds were in the skies,
We'd camp in some old shanty bar,
And sit a-tellin' lies.
Though time had writ upon his brow
And rubbed away his curls,
He always was -- an' may be now --
A favourite with the girls;
I've heard bush-wimmin scream an' squall --
I've see'd 'em laugh until
They could not do their work at all,
Because of Corny Bill.
He was the jolliest old pup
As ever you did see,
And often at some bush kick-up
They'd make old Bill M.C.
He'd make them dance and sing all night,
He'd make the music hum,
But he'd be gone at mornin' light
A-humpin' of his drum.
Though joys of which the poet rhymes
Was not for Bill an' me,
I think we had some good old times
Out on the wallaby.
I took a wife and left off rum,
An' camped beneath a roof;
But Bill preferred to hump his drum
A-paddin' of the hoof.
The lazy, idle loafers what
In toney houses camp
Would call old Bill a drunken sot,
A loafer, or a tramp;
But if the dead should ever dance --
As poets say they will --
I think I'd rather take my chance
Along of Corny Bill.
His long life's-day is nearly o'er,
Its shades begin to fall;
He soon must mount his bluey for
The last long tramp of all;
I trust that when, in bush an' town,
He's lived and learnt his fill,
They'll let the golden slip-rails down
For poor old Corny Bill.
poem by Henry Lawson
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We have the Bill of Rights. What we need is a Bill of Responsibilities.
quote by Bill Maher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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