You Couldn't Stand The Laws
Cook, look, book, brook, rebook;
But, i am very fine.
Rebuke, rebook!
Crook, rook, hook, took, nook;
But, this will affect you as well! !
However, let me be clean always.
of the sweet aroma of love,
But to punch it back with your hatred!
Punch, lunch, munch, bunch, crunch, brunch;
To set it back,
Just like the others;
To look back!
Just like the others;
For, you couldn't stand the laws.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Related quotes
Rook
Rook, rook read from your book
Who murders who and where is the treasure hid?
Crow, crow spill all you know
Is that my name on the bell?
Rook, rook gaze in the brook
If theres a secret can I be part of it?
Crow, crow before Ill let go, say is that my name on the bell?
Soar up high, see the semaphore from the washing lines
Break the code of the whispering chimneys and traffic signs
Wheres the message thats written under the base of clouds?
Plans eternal, I know you know, so dont blurt out loud
Rook, rook by hook or by crook
Ill make you tell me what this whole things about!
Crow, crow why cant you show
If thats my name on the bell?
On the wings of night, I fly too, above field and stream
My head bursting with knowledge till I wake from the dream
If I die and I find that I had a soul inside
Promise me that youll take it up on its final ride
Rook, rook gaze in the brook
If theres a secret can I be part of it?
Crow, crow before Ill let go, say is that my name on the bell?
Is that my name on the bell?
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ladder
Cook, look, hook, rook, took, book, nook, kook;
Take me home and show me your love,
For the ladder up there is far from me.
Ladder, adder, add, read, dear, red, lad, dad, led, are, era;
But inser the pole inside the tube of the foam!
Because your home is now intended for me alone,
And i have my peaceful mind set on this love.
Wide openings,
The ladder up there is very far from me!
But what goes around will surely come around one day;
And like the joy of your muse in the land of flowers.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I read a book
I read a book
Not to enhance my looks
I read a book
Maybe to avoid being a crook
I read a book
Not just to learn how to cook
I read a book
To ascertain how to defend my rights
Not just to acquire knowledge
Reading a book I pledge,
Is one of the roads to the light
I read a book
To understand how a kings territory
Is defended with pieces such as the rook
I read a book
So there will be no questions asked
When I count correctly what you took
I read a book
So that I play not ignorant
Now on life I’ve a different outlook
I read a book
So if I come up with all the right answers
I will know for sure it is not merely a fluke
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Back
Keep the tale, it's free, just bring the book back.
Eat the fish, but bring the line and hook back.
No one out here lives by bread alone;
relish the coq au vin, but send the cook back.
Don't let a warning chill your lovely days,
just lock the door, please. Don't invite the crook back.
Accept this praise for a game well played, my friend-
and checkmate. Much too late to move that rook back.
What makes you so sure your puny dam
could hold even this innocuous little brook back?
Sure, you were young, and clueless, and unnerved.
Too late to win the dear one you forsook back.
A day will come when you'll be held to account
for every gift you gave and then took back.
Get that look of stunned surprise off your face.
You tried to shake the world. The world shook back.
How do you know she's still there, Eric? The Beloved,
that slut. She's ditched you before. Go on, look back.
poem by Eric Torgersen
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Satisfied
Im still crazy for you, everything that you do
Just wanna keep you satisfied
Every trick in the book, girl by hook or by crook
Gonna keep you satisfied
Youve become an addiction, somehow I cant resist
Let me make a prediction, now I know what Ive missed
In my heart theres a whole lot of lovin
A feelin I cant deny
I cant ignore if I wanted, so baby why should I try
Im still crazy for you, everything that you do
Just wanna keep you satisfied
Every trick in the book, girl by hook or by crook
Gonna keep you satisfied
Well my heart still pounds like a hammer
Every time you get close to me
And my pulse starts to race
At the thought of your embrace
And my mind blows naturally
Dont think I take you for granted
Thats something Id never do
Whatever you need to be happy
Just ask and Ill give it to you
Im still crazy crazy for you, everything that you do
Just wanna keep you satisfied
Every trick in the book, girl by hook or by crook
Gonna keep you satistied
song performed by by Paul Carrack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Chinee Cook
They who say the bush is dull are not so very far astray,
For this eucalyptic cloisterdom is anything but gay;
But its uneventful dulness I contentedly could brook,
If I only could get back my lost, lamented Chinee cook.
We had tried them without number—cooks, to wit—my wife and I;
One a week, then three a fortnight, as my wife can testify;
But at last we got the right one; I may say 'twas by a fluke,
For he dropped in miscellaneous-like, that handy Chinee cook,
He found the kitchen empty, laid his swag down, and commenced;
My wife, surprised, found nothing to say anything against;
But she asked him for how much a year the work he undertook—
“Me workee for me ration,” said that noble Chinee cook.
Then right off from next to nothing such a dinner he prepared,
That the Governor I'm certain less luxuriously fared;
And he waited, too, in spotless white, with such respectful look,
And bowed his head when grace was said, that pious Chinee cook.
He did the work of man and maid—made beds and swept out rooms;
Nor cooled he in his zeal, as is the manner of new brooms:
Oh, he shed celestial brightness on the most sequestered nook,
For his mop and pail were everywhere—my cleanly Chinee cook.
We got fat upon his cooking; we were happy in those days,
For he tickled up our palates in a thousand pleasant ways.
Oh his dinners! Oh his dinners! they were fit for any duke!
Oh delectable Mongolian! Oh celestial Chinee cook!
There was nothing in creation that he didn't put to use,
And the less he got to cook with, all the more he could produce,
All nature was his kitchen range, likewise his cook'ry book—
Neither Soyer nor Meg Dod could teach that knowing Chinee cook.
And day by day upon my wife and me the mystery grew,
How his virtues were so many and his earnings were so few;
And we laid our heads together to find out by hook or crook,
The secret of the cheapness of that priceless Chinee cook.
And still the sense of mystery grew on us day by day,
Till it came to be a trouble, and we wished him well away;
But we could not find a fault in one so far above rebuke—
Ah, we didn't know the value of that valuable cook.
But one day when I was out he brought my wife a lot of things,
Turquoise earrings, opal bracelets, ruby brooches, diamond rings,
And he ran their various prices o'er as glibly as a book,
And dirt cheap, too, were the jewels of that jewel of a cook.
I returned, and just in time to stop the purchase of the lot,
And to ask him where on earth those costly jewels he had got,
And when I looked him in the face, good gracious how he shook!
And he says, says he, “Me bought him”—did that trembling Chinee cook.
And I a justice of the peace! O Fortune! how unkind!
For a certain Sydney robbery came rushing to my mind
“You bought them! Ah, I fear me, John, you paid them with a hook!
I am bound to apprehend you, oh unhappy Chinee cook!”
So the mystery was solved at length; the secret now we saw;
John had used us as a refuge from the clutches of the law;
And, now, alas, too late would I his frailty overlook!
He is gone, and I am left without my skilful Chinee cook.
Oh, could I taste again of those delicious luscious things,
I could pardon him the robbery of other people's rings;
I exaggerated principle, my duty I mistook,
When I handed over to the law my peerless Chinee cook.
What would I give just now for one of his superb ragouts,
His entrements, his entrées, his incomparable stews?
Oh, art and taste and piquancy my happy board forsook,
When I came the J.P. over my lamented Chinee cook.
Take away the hated letters. 'Twas my “justice” robbed my “peace”;
Take my name from the commission, and my matchless cook release.
But I fear my Johnny's dead, for I am haunted by a spook,
With oblique eyes and a pigtail, like my lost, my Chinee cook.
poem by James Brunton Stephens
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Alankar (Decor) -30
Kitchen clash (Double Rondeau)
How difficult it is to cook
In hot summer how a wife to cook
'Take rest, shall buy food from outside'
He says with concern on her side
Wife is happy she need not cook
Happy so life runs like a brook
Variety food, pleased they look
Seasoned hot, they know kitchen's stride
How difficult
Time in hand changed is her outlook
Changed is also her old cook-look
Styleless to stylish in set glide
Makes her new with glow to her pride
She can speak on her strife to cook
How difficult
How difficult but back a cook?
Daughter visits with siren look
There, stirs in dad's heart a high tide
Sneaks'cooking has been set aside
These days mom does not at all cook'
Enough for her to word and hook
Daughter counsels mom back to cook
To be in shifty husband's stride
How difficult!
Luck is but a wheel in life-book
So such a wife can't overlook
And mom vows never to abide
Honeyed words but put them aside
Blamed wife telling herself 'to cook
How difficult! '
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Let Me Be A Fool
You take the crown,
I'll zip my lips,
I SWEAR.....
zip, zip, zip....zip my lips
lip, lip, lip...oops,,, zips no lip
oh! I can't even mug up
I was not permitted in to a school;
la..la..la.. look I AM A PROUD FOOL! !
I veiled my eyes with a black tape
I resist as I hate to ape.
You scolded me and she gave me a scornful look
I won't complain as I am the bait of your hook.
hook, hook, hook,....hook my book
book, book, your hook, my book,,,,, ooops! !
I am not poor, let me make it clear
You be the King, but, LET ME BE A FOOL! !
poem by Bharat Bhushan
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Servent Cook
mother
Cook
with love...
father
Cook
With taste...
Brother
Cook...
With enjoy...
sister
Cook
Simply fine...
Servent
Cook
A boor...
A woor...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Dressing the Doll
THIS is the way we dress the Doll:—
You may make her a shepherdess, the Doll,
If you give her a crook with a pastoral hook,
But this is the way we dress the Doll.
Chorus
Bless the Doll, you may press the Doll,
But do not crumple and mess the Doll!
This is the way we dress the Doll.
First, you observe, her little chemise,
As white as milk, with ruches of silk;
And the little drawers that cover her knees,
As she sits or stands, with golden bands,
And lace in beautiful filagrees.
Chorus
Now these are the bodies: she has two,
One of pink, with rouches of blue,
And sweet white lace; be careful, do!
And one of green, with buttons of sheen,
Buttons and bands of gold, I mean,
With lace on the border in lovely order,
The most expensive we can afford her!
Chorus
Then, with black at the border, jacket
And this—and this—she will not lack it;
Skirts? Why, there are skirts, of course,
And shoes and stockings we shall enforce,
With a proper bodice, in the proper place,
(Stays that lace have had their days
And made their martyrs); likewise garters,
All entire. But our desire
Is to show you her night attire,
At least a part of it. Pray admire
This sweet white thing that she goes to bed in!
It ’s not the one that ’s made for her wedding:
That is special, a new design,
Made with a charm and a countersign,
Three times three and nine times nine:
These are only her usual clothes.
Look, there ’s a wardrobe! gracious knows
It ’s pretty enough, as far as it goes!
So you see the way we dress the Doll:
You might make her a shepherdess, the Doll,
If you gave her a crook with pastoral hook,
With sheep, and a shed, and a shallow brook,
And all that, out of the poetry-book.
Chorus
Bless the Doll, you may press the Doll,
But do not crumple and mess the Doll!
This is the way we dress the Doll;
If you had not seen, could you guess the Doll?
poem by William Brighty Rands
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Book Crook
Crazy Books give Crazy Looks
WHEN A CROOK SAW A BOOK IN A BOOKSTORE HE HAD A LOOK LIKE A CROOK HE TOOK THE BOOK BECAUSE HE HAD TO HAVE IT HE HAD THE LAPD ON HIM LIKE A PUP HE HAD THIS COP AND GAVE HIM A POP AND SCURIED ON HIS HURRIED WAY HE STOPPED TO HAVE A LITTLE WHEY
poem by Derek wolnik
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The Fairy Book
In summer, when the grass is thick, if Mother has the time,
She shows me with her pencil how a poet makes a rhyme,
And often she is sweet enough to choose a leafy nook,
Where I cuddle up so closely when she reads the Fairy-book.
In winter when the corn's asleep, and birds are not in song.
And crocuses and violets have been away too long,
Dear Mother puts her thimble by in answer to my look,
And I cuddle up so closely when she reads the Fairy-book.
And Mother tells the servants that of course they must contrive
To manage all the househod things from four till half-past five,
For we really cannot suffer interruption from the cook,
When we cuddle close together with the happy Fairy-book.
poem by Norman Rowland Gale
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A Boy's Summer Song
'Tis fine to play
In the fragrant hay,
And romp on the golden load;
To ride old Jack
To the barn and back,
Or tramp by a shady road.
To pause and drink,
At a mossy brink;
Ah, that is the best of joy,
And so I say
On a summer's day,
What's so fine as being a boy? Ha, Ha!
With line and hook
By a babbling brook,
The fisherman's sport we ply;
And list the song
Of the feathered throng
That flit in the branches nigh.
At last we strip
For a quiet dip;
Ah, that is the best of joy.
For this I say
On a summer's day,
What's so fine as being a boy? Ha, Ha!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Captain Hook
Captain Hook must remember
Not to scratch his toes.
Captain Hook must watch out
And never pick his nose.
Captain Hook must be gentle
When he shakes your hand.
Captain Hook must be careful
Openin' sardine cans
And playing tag and pouring tea
And turnin' pages of his book.
Lots of folks I'm glad I ain't--
But mostly Captain Hook!
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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My life right now is, I wouldn't say reduced to food, but my duties in life are that I wake up, cook breakfast, clean the dishes, prepare lunch, clean those dishes, go to the market, get fresh produce, cook dinner, clean those dishes and then sleep if I can. And I love it. I actually adore it.
quote by Heath Ledger
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Way You Do The Things You Do
You got a smile so bright
You know you could have been a candle
I'm holding you so tight
You know you could have been a handle
The way you swept me off my feet
You know you could've been a broom
And baby you smell so sweet
You know you could've been some perfume
Chorus
Well you could of been anything that you wanted to
I can tell
The way you do the things you do
As pretty as you are
You know you could've been a flower
If good looks were minutes
You know you could have been an hour
The way you stole my heart
You know you could have been a crook
And baby your so smart
You know you could have been a school book
Chorus
Well you could of been ....... Etc
You make my life so rich
You know you could've been some money
And baby you're so sweet
You know you could have been some honey
Chorus
Well you could of been ....... Etc
As pretty as you are
You know you could've been a flower
If good looks were minutes
You know you could have been an hour
The way you stole my heart
You know you could have been a crook
And baby your so smart
You know you could have been a school book
Chorus
Well you could of been ....... Etc
song performed by by UB40 from Labour Of Love 2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Death
Death, thou art a harden’d crook!
Trying souls unwary to hook;
By the waters of a brook;
Few elderly to book.
Never art thou better than Birth!
Without which, no soul gets Mirth;
By Baptism, the Soldier of God
Enters His Abode, of the Lord.
Fie Death! Thou art a fool to steal
Souls unready to die- I feel;
But only through thy cruel Kiss,
Open the gates to Heaven’s Bliss.
God, He redeemed this sinful world
Through you; To show His love, I’m told;
His Resurrection proved Him God!
By thee, man goes to His Abode.
Man dies by fire, water, soil;
Soul climbs the celestial trail;
The unwary cannot get bail!
One day, all must to Him set sail.
Some day, man will have to die!
And in the grave, rest for a while;
The body, soul shall then live come,
For His Judgment, from every tomb!
poem by John Celes
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A lot of people love the idea of improvising but are terrified of it, so I tried to make a book that was not a chef's book about improvising but a real home cook's book with a real home cook's pantry, supermarket ingredients, that sort of thing.
quote by Sally Schneider
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Castling, the King must be moved first, or before the Rook is quitted. If the Rook be quitted before the King is touched, the opposing player may demand that the move of the Rook shall stand without the Castling being completed.
quote by Howard Staunton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Worthwhile Things (A Young Poet)
Consider the seasons, how
they change,
Beautiful snow, falling rain.
Summer sun shining
bright,
Millions of stars, giving
light.
Flowers blooming in the
Spring,
A choir of childrens voices
ring.
Gentle flows, from a brook,
Aroma of food, beginning
to cook.
Our children lying safely
in bed,
After good night prayers
are said.
Happiness we feel when
loved ones smile,
These things make life
worthwhile.
poem by Heather Burns
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