He Took a Header
They met in a field, 'mid th» blooming heather; A punster, a ram and an old bell-wether.
No cry of alarm did the young man utter,
He simply murmured : "I'll pass the butter."
"And I'll butt the passer, observed the ram, "I ain't any Mary's little lamb."
" 'That tired feeling' I'll o'er him bring, So often caused by 'a forward spring.'
"I'll give him 'a header' he will not like." And he "cast sheep's eyes" at the youth and bike.
(W-h-i-s-h-! r-r-r-!-!-!)
Sheep, bike and punster lay mingled together; The youth was "a little under the wether."
poem by Charles Follen Adams from Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
The bike must go - a song
Got to keep the engine running - My soul's on fire
Like to see my baby - my one desire
Can't help this feeling it's hard to explain
It hurts my heart it gives me pain
She says
The bike must go
No no no no no
The bike must go
Riding through the city streets, with my leathers on
Looking cool in black as the day is long
I can't quite understand it but my baby's wrong
Plugged into her Ipod and listening to her song
She says
The bike must go
No no no no no
The bike must go.
She's driving me crazy with her stance
And I'm sure she's taking me for a dance
When she says I hate it - it's like doing time
Then she looks at me and says
The bike must go
Oh no no no no
The bike must go.
There's no way around it, can't persuade her n-o more,
it'll be a pity but what can I do?
Sooner or later she's got to see
The bike's for cruising with her and me
And she says:
The bike must go
Oh no no no no
The bike must go
How can she be so cruel when I love her so
I tried ever thing to please her that I know
Got to keep my baby on the wild side
And she looks into my eyes and says
The bike must go
Oh no no no no
The bike must go
I love my baby like a dog chewing a bone
I called her this morning on the telephone,
There's no way around it
I tried my best
There's nothing more to say except
The bike must go
The bike must go
Oh no no no no
The bike must go.
*I turned this poem into a song which you can listen to on Youtube or google. Just type 'the bike must go' Enjoy.
poem by JeanJacques Evendon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Bike Is Just A Bike
A bike is just a bike
It can take you for a riding hike
A bike is just a bike
With a motorcycle it is a look alike
A bike is just a bike
When you ride it you feel childlike
But there is something I dislike
It is hard to impress and make a good strike
Two wheels and one seat available for hitchhike
Your charming words will have a declined spike
Therefore it is best to leave the bike for the dikes
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dirt Bike
Here comes the dirt bike
Beware of the dirt bike
Because I hear theyre coming to our town
Theyve got plans for everyone
And now I hear theyre over their sophomore jinx, so you had better check it out
All hail the dirt bike
Philosopher dirt bike
Silence as we gathered round
We saw the word and were on our way
Now its
Brain washing dirt bike
Ground shaking dirt bike
Mind bending dirt bike
In control
Soul crushing dirt bike
Self propelled dirt bike
You see I never thought Id understand
til that bike took me by the hand
Now I ride
Ride
Ride
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bike Ride To The Moon
Push me off to start the fun
On a bike ride to the moon
Lots of room for everyone
On a bike ride to the moon
And well bring back cheese for my auntie jane
And some magic moon dust thatll stop the rain
On my poor uncle alfreds head, even though he stays in bed (silly alfred)
Why not bring a pot of tea
On a bike ride to the moon
Angel cake for you and me
On a bike ride to the moon
And well pack a tent case its cold at night
And Ill share your sleeping bag if I might
And might be a positive boon
To protect you from the man in the moon (who happens to be me, look out!)
Racing forward cant look back
On a bike ride to the moon
What did I omit to pack
On a bike ride to the moon?
With the stars all glinting in the shiny chrome
Then I suddenly remembered what I left at home
Now I shant be peddling any higher
cos a sharp sputnik has given me a cosmic flat tyre
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bike Ride To The Moon
Push me off to start the fun
On a bike ride to the moon
Lots of room for everyone
On a bike ride to the moon
And well bring back cheese for my auntie jane
And some magic moon dust thatll stop the rain
On my poor uncle alfreds head, even though he stays in bed (silly alfred)
Why not bring a pot of tea
On a bike ride to the moon
Angel cake for you and me
On a bike ride to the moon
And well pack a tent case its cold at night
And Ill share your sleeping bag if I might
And might be a positive boon
To protect you from the man in the moon (who happens to be me, look out!)
Racing forward cant look back
On a bike ride to the moon
What did I omit to pack
On a bike ride to the moon?
With the stars all glinting in the shiny chrome
Then I suddenly remembered what I left at home
Now I shant be peddling any higher
cos a sharp sputnik has given me a cosmic flat tyre
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sheep
Sometimes I get so angry with the simple life they lead
The shepherds smile seems to confirm my fears
Theyve never questioned anything, theyve never disagreed
Sometimes I think they must have wool in their ears
And when you see a can I see a crook
And when you see a crowd I see a flock
Its sheep were up against
Sheep were up against
When I was young they used to get me counting sheep
But the counting I did was all in vain
No when Im tired and Im trying to get to sleep
I count humans jumping onto trains
And when you see a can I see a crook
And when you see a crowd I see a flock
Its sheep were up against
Sheep were up against
[influential guitar break]
And when you see a can I see a crook
And when you see a crowd I see a flock
Its sheep were up against
Sheep were up against
song performed by by Housemartins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After Bike Ride
Jim's younger sister
Followed you everywhere
and stood watching
as you rode the old car
around the field
or whizzed around
on their motorbike
to the cheers and shouts
from the fence
Monica why don't you
go off and play
Jim said
yes
said Pete
her other brother
go play with your dolls
go take a run and jump
she said
and still stood watching you
her eyes fixed on you
like wasps on a jam jar
I want to watch him ride
she said
and stood with her hands
on her hips
waiting until you stopped
the bike and got off
and wandered over to you
and said
I like the way you ride
like how you sway
and swerve on the bike
and you smiled at her
and took in
her short stature
her dark eyes
her determined expression
and as Pete rode off
on the bike
and Jim stood
on the fence
calling to him
Monica put her hand in yours
and said
wish you were my brother
I know you'd let me ride
the bike or car
and not tease me
or bawl me out
I guess I would
let you ride the bike or car
you said
and sensed
her small hand in yours
her thumb rubbing
against your skin
but seeing
as you're not my brother
she whispered
maybe you could
marry me one day
and we could ride off
into the sunset
like they do in the movies
in Jim's old car
yes sure maybe
you said
knowing inside
that'd be a bridge too far.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bike Ride
Like a vine him entwined,
While the bike rushed.
More speed; tighter hugged:
A ride ecstatic.
The bike roared and jolted
With the thrill never experienced.
Small pits on the road did
Jerk them with the bike.
Rain water in pits the bike
Beautifully splashed.
Very risky drive,
But speed reduce both dislike.
The greatest pleasures hid
In the pits of risks.
poem by Fabiyas M V
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Learning
a little brown boy
perhaps aged three
is learning
how to ride his
bike
the father bought
a bike
taller than the boy
but the boy
has passion
breaks his bones
suffers the bruises
just to learn
this new skill
he rides on top of the
bike unable to reach
the brake
and he laughs at all this
not seeking
any help.
there he falls again
on the ground.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mary Had A Little Lamb
Mary had a little lamb
One holy morning
'Neath the star of Bethlehem
A brand new day was forming
Guided by the shining light
And the angel's voice
Wise men traveled through the night
To see the baby boy
'Cause Mary had a little lamb
King of kings and son of man
Mary had a little lamb of God
They gathered 'round to see the lamb
In the manger sleeping
Such a humble throne for Him
The promise God was keeping
There the shepards bowed their heads
Among the cattle lowing
The first ever Christmas gift
Was wrapped in swaddling clothes
Mary had a little lamb
King of kings and son of man
Mary had a little lamb of God
For the world a sacrifice
Mary did give birth
The way she held him in her arms
Is how He holds the earth
Mary had a little lamb
King of kings and son of man
Mary had a little lamb of God
Mary had a little lamb
King of kings and son of man
Mary had a little lamb of God
Oh, Mary had a little lamb
King of kings and son of man
Mary had a little lamb of God
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Youth Has A Charm
Do rapidly believe in youth and its charm,
An attractive proposition to consider
If one is rejected by it, if it takes you by alarm,
If age has been the actual admonisher.
The crisis of age is caused by the rejection of youth,
It is easy and hard, slow and fast,
And age is splendid and fierce as a dogtooth,
When young children resemble the fighting broadcast.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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First and Last
Thy "little lamb" once more!
My Lord, my life, my rest,
Borne in thine arms the wide world o'er,
A lamb upon thy breast.
Thy sheep across the waste
Were wandering far and wide,
And after them my heart would baste
To bring them to thy side.
Thy lambs were weak and faint,
I could but give my best;
Feebly I sought to still the plaint,
And bear them on my breast.
Great Shepherd of the sheep!
The sheep are thine, not mine!
Thou thy great flock wilt surely keep,
And each one lamb of thine.
Ever, the wide waste o'er,
A lamb upon thy breast!
Thy lost thou seekest evermore,
I seek, with thee, and rest.
A lamb upon thy breast,
Still learning what thou art, -
Our Lord, our life, our strength, our rest!
Borne on thy changeless heart.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Thy "little lamb" once more
My Lord, my life, my rest;
Borne in thine arms the dark flood o'er,
A lamb upon thy breast!
poem by Elizabeth Rundle Charles from Littell's Living Age, Volume 143, Issue 1842
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sonnet: Good Shepherd’s Love
One sheep amongst the hundred, if gets lost,
The Good Shepherd begins to search for it,
Returning when ’tis found at any cost –
Lamb gets His shoulders upon which to sit!
God seeks and saves the lamb that’s gone astray!
He will not rest until lost one is found;
He leaves the ninety-nine behind that day;
He leads them on to newer grazing-ground.
What love, the Shepherd’s heart bears for His sheep!
He tends to every lamb with equal care;
Yet, some decide to take the plunge down steep,
And meet their death, despite His warnings bare.
The Good Shepherd will not forsake one sheep!
No wolves in sheep-skin dare to come or creep.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-7-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Last of The Flock
I
In distant countries have I been,
And yet I have not often seen
A healthy man, a man full grown,
Weep in the public roads, alone.
But such a one, on English ground,
And in the broad highway, I met;
Along the broad highway he came,
His cheeks with tears were wet:
Sturdy he seemed, though he was sad;
And in his arms a Lamb he had.
II
He saw me, and he turned aside,
As if he wished himself to hide:
And with his coat did then essay
To wipe those briny tears away.
I followed him, and said, 'My friend,
What ails you? wherefore weep you so?'
--'Shame on me, Sir! this lusty Lamb,
He makes my tears to flow.
To-day I fetched him from the rock;
He is the last of all my flock,
III
'When I was young, a single man,
And after youthful follies ran,
Though little given to care and thought,
Yet, so it was, an ewe I bought;
And other sheep from her I raised,
As healthy sheep as you might see;
And then I married, and was rich
As I could wish to be;
Of sheep I numbered a full score,
And every year increased my store.
IV
'Year after year my stock it grew;
And from this one, this single ewe,
Full fifty comely sheep I raised,
As fine a flock as ever grazed!
Upon the Quantock hills they fed;
They throve, and we at home did thrive:
--This lusty Lamb of all my store
Is all that is alive;
And now I care not if we die,
And perish all of poverty.
V
'Six Children, Sir! had I to feed;
Hard labour in a time of need!
My pride was tamed, and in our grief
I of the Parish asked relief.
They said, I was a wealthy man;
My sheep upon the uplands fed,
And it was fit that thence I took
Whereof to buy us bread.
'Do this: how can we give to you,'
They cried, 'what to the poor is due?'
VI
'I sold a sheep, as they had said,
And bought my little children bread,
And they were healthy with their food
For me--it never did me good.
A woeful time it was for me,
To see the end of all my gains,
The pretty flock which I had reared
With all my care and pains,
To see it melt like snow away--
For me it was a woeful day.
VII
'Another still! and still another!
A little lamb, and then its mother!
It was a vein that never stopped--
Like blood-drops from my heart they dropped.
'Till thirty were not left alive
They dwindled, dwindled, one by one
And I may say, that many a time
I wished they all were gone--
Reckless of what might come at last
Were but the bitter struggle past.
VIII
'To wicked deeds I was inclined,
And wicked fancies crossed my mind;
And every man I chanced to see,
I thought he knew some ill of me:
No peace, no comfort could I find,
No ease, within doors or without;
And, crazily and wearily
I went my work about;
And oft was moved to flee from home,
And hide my head where wild beasts roam.
IX
'Sir! 'twas a precious flock to me,
As dear as my own children be;
For daily with my growing store
I loved my children more and more.
Alas! it was an evil time;
God cursed me in my sore distress;
I prayed, yet every day I thought
I loved my children less;
And every week, and every day,
My flock it seemed to melt away.
X
'They dwindled, Sir, sad sight to see!
From ten to five, from five to three,
A lamb, a wether, and a ewe;--
And then at last from three to two;
And, of my fifty, yesterday
I had but only one:
And here it lies upon my arm,
Alas! and I have none;--
To-day I fetched it from the rock;
It is the last of all my flock.'
poem by William Wordsworth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shoots & Ladders
{their second video. the intro is jonathan (lead vocalist) playing the
Bagpipes. if you listen closely, you can hear birds in the
Background. it is rumored that this intro was recorded outside and
The fade-in was done by jonathan walking toward the mic on a hill}
Ring around the rosies
Pocket full of posies
Ashes, ashes, we all fall down
Nursery rhymes are said, verses in my head
Into my childhood theyre spoonfed
Hidden violence revealed, darkness that seems real
Look at the pages that cause all this evil
One, two, buckle my shoe
Three, four, shut the door
Five, six, pick up sticks
Seven, eight, lay them straight
London bridges falling down, falling down, falling down
London bridges falling down, my fair lady
Nick nack patty wack, give a dog a bone
This old man came rolling home
. . . this old man came,
Mary had a little lamb whos fleece was white as snow!
{he says it so weird that it sounds like,
and if we had to pick up the missing foot um in um in . . .}
Mary had a little lamb whos fleece was white as snow!
Baa baa black sheep have you any wool
Mary had a little lamb whos fleece was white as snow!
Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full
Mary had a little lamb whos fleece was white as snow!
Baa baa black sheep have you any wool
Mary had a little lamb!
Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full [white trash coon]
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
{also from the mouth of jonathan}
song performed by by Korn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sheep
From where I stand the sheep stand still
As stones against the stony hill.
The stones are gray
And so are they.
And both are weatherworn and round,
Leading the eye back to the ground.
Two mingled flocks -
The sheep, the rocks.
And still no sheep stirs from its place
Or lifts its Babylonian face.
poem by Robert Francis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jewel.
Adorned by sparkling snow
Glittering in the window
Are the eyes.
They peer into the skies
and dream of a place
Where there is no perfection
And everything they consume
Is not a confection
Where not everything blooms
With the purity of innocence
Were there is no nonviolence
And no consistence
Of smiles
From adults
As if they were a child
And their eyes glitter
With the bitter innocence
of not knowing death or strife
and all the rest
where there is killing
and money is the root of all evil
and the world is filled with it
where silence about guilty pleasures is so loud
it beats the noise of innocent dreams
of parents being proud
of their children
these perfect glittering sparkling eyes
dreams of a place full of lies
Staring at the moon
While on the other side
There are pairs of eyes
That cries
for a place to hide
A place of perfection
nonviolence and youth
Where youth really does mean innocence
And the innocence blooms
A bloom that will bloom forever
and you will succeed in every last endeavor
and each endeavor will be filled with good intentions
and each good intention benefits every one
and everyone helps eachother
And there is no such thing as the death of
A sister or mother.
Where money is the root of all evil
and there is none to be found
Where the truths of hapiness will be expound
Where every thing you eat will
be a confection
and there is no such thing as
a political election
where when you peer
Into the eyes of an adult
There is no eruption of corruption
Where there is not diversion of perversion
but belevolence and innocence
past a point you can not measure
and they are not just seeking pleasure
a pleasure that is hushed by silence so loud
it beats the noise of a parent beiong proud
these eyes so dim
That they can barely swim in hope
so small in size
wishes and prays for a place
that is void of lies
wether it be the glittering, the dim
the one that can barely swim
they each have a jewel within them
Wether it be the proud, the loud
the silenced, the hushed
each have a jewel growing that can not be rushed
when this jewel is fully grown
they will be able to make the decision on their own
wether to stay home where they are
or venture out very far
and switch places so they can be
what they consider truly happy.
poem by Melissa Ferrer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Youth is blind
Youth is power; youth is vigour;
Youth is initiative; youth is revolutionary;
Youth is dedication; youth is freedom;
Youth is love; youth is passion.
Yes, because youth is blind
Out of them elders make winds
01.01.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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