My dad had just returned from England
Said the Queen laughs she's never sad
Lives in a fortress,
She's never had a distress,
Rules her subjects including her husband.
quote by by Efe Benjamin
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Evilmania
[laughs]
Evilmania, Im gonna rule your world,
Gonna tease you and squeeze you,
Till you drop. opps!
I can hypnotise, hit you right between the eyes,
My poison bites, put out the lights, and then you stop!
[shes so full of evilmania, like the queen of translvania.]
Yes Im the queen, the queen of evilmania!! [laughs]
With a mission to destroy, Ill bend you like a toy,
Ill kiss you, hiss you, miss you, when your gone! [laughs]
I can stroke you with my tale, but my mercys not for sale,
See how your queer eyes shine, you world is mine!!
[shes so full of evilmania] yes! [like the queen of translvania.]
Yes Im the queen, yes Im the queen, the queen of evilmania!!
Yes Im the queen, yes Im the queen, the queen of evilmania!!
Yes Im the queen, yes Im the queen, the queen of evilmania!![laughs]
song performed by by Grace Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Future Husband - Keeng Royalness Troy Turner
Stay over there!
Said he of dark and golden hair.
Who me? Yes me Queen Royalty Patreni!
I am the girl Keeng Troy will wed.
Tho he may be a lover in a mauseoleum
Alone and nearly dead?
An explanation for my sorrow
An answer to why I am so sad?
My future husband is in a mauseoleum
My future husband is nearly dead.
I have traveled far to see him
For he is mine and for me to claim
My future husband is in a mauseoleum
My future husband is nearly dead.
Another explanation for my sorrow
My love with him will come tomorrow.
Someday soon I'll see Keeng Troy at home
And to my good love he is most welcome.
Then perhaps I will be so glad
To bring him back to life again
After he was nearly dead!
------
Written By: RoyaltyPatrenia Turner, Queen Of England
(I am an Undercover-Christian Rite Cherokee Indian, and
I am also a USA Poetry Queen since the good year 2009.)
poem by Queen Of England RoyaltyPatrenia Turner
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A Cavalry Soldier
With loud talking and laughter,
And a long, careless stride,
He paces the crowded pathway,
With head high in pride.
And mean men passing beside him
Shrink, as from one unclean,
From the strong son of England,
The servant of the Queen.
In the forefront of battle
I think I see him ride,
With the drawn sabre gleaming
That swings at his side;
With a bearing erect and stalwart,
And a look calm and keen,
The strong son of England,
The servant of the Queen.
When the drums beat to battle,
With a quick-leaping breath,
'Mid the rush and hurry of warfare
He rides down to death.
And the waiting and toil and hardship
Are as if they had not been
To the strong son of England,
The servant of the Queen.
When the wild charge is over
And the safe ground they gain,
He may hear a cry from behind him
Of a comrade in pain.
And back on his way of mercy
To the smoke-mantled scene
Goes the strong son of England,
The servant of the Queen.
poem by Cicely Fox Smith
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Made In England
I was made in England
Out of cadillac muscle
I had a quit-me father
I had a quit-me mother
I had a little Richard
And that black piano
Oh that sweet Georgia peach
And the boy from Tupelo-
Wow oh oh oh I was made in England
Wow oh oh oh I was made in England
I was made in England
Out of cadillac muscle
Face down on the playground
Crying god send me a brother
Not a bloody nose
For Rock-┬┤n┬┤-Roll
Give me that sweet Georgian peach
And the boy from Tupelo
Wow oh oh oh I was made in England
Wow oh oh oh I was made in England
I was made in England
Like a blue Cortina
But a Yankee summer
Had a way about her
You had a scent for scandal
Well here┬┤s my middle finger
I had forty years of pain
And nothing to cling to
Wow oh oh oh I was made in England
Wow oh oh oh I was made in England
If you┬┤re made in England
You┬┤re biult to last
You can still say homo
And everybody laughs
But the joke┬┤s on you
You never read the song
They all think they know
But they┬┤ve all got wrong
Wow oh oh oh I was made in England
Wow oh oh oh I was made in England
song performed by by Elton John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mass Suicide
A swarm of africanized honey bees,
Decided to commit suicide,
Because their queen told them,
It would be the fastest way to heaven,
And they would be enlightened.
Quickly, a scout found the source,
For their demise, and returned to the queen,
With the news, who instantly ordered,
All drones, breeding males, and all ladies,
In waiting, to follow her.
Swarming in the sky they located the subject,
Of their ignominious ending and all proceeded,
To vent their rage upon the man walking along.
Once only once they each stung him,
And fell writhing to the ground.
The man was stung several hundred times,
And unwittingly had become the last casualty,
In the mad Queen bee's diabolical suicide pact,
With all of her subjects. He lay dying amidst,
Hundreds of his executioners, writhing on the ground.
8/24/11 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
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A Husband...
A husband should be
Loyal and honest
A husband should be
Strong and protective
A husband should be
Loving and romantic
A husband should be
Patient and understanding
A husband should know
When enough is enough
A husband should know
When to fight and when to cry
A husband should know
all your goals and dreams
A husband should know
your strengths and well as your weaknesses
A husband needs to be a true man
A husband needs to love you unconditionally
A husband needs to know your heart is forever his
poem by Sarah Holmes
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Time kills
Yesterday’s queen was hot
Till today’s queen has landed.
Today’s queen rules hot
Till tomorrow’s queen arrives.
Your queen forgets you fast
Once you are off her sight,
You, too, focusing on the next.
Time heals, but kills too.
29.05.2001, Perhampur.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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An Ode to the Queen on Her Jubilee Year
Sound drums and trumpets, far and near!
And Let all Queen Victoria's subjects loudly cheer!
And show by their actions that they revere,
Because she's served them faithfully fifty long year!
All hail to the Empress of India and Great Britain's Queen!
Long may she live happy and serene!
And as this is now her Jubilee year,
I hope her subjects will show their loyalty without fear.
Therefore let all her subjects rejoice and sing,
Until they make the welkin ring;
And let young and old on this her Jubilee be glad,
And cry, "Long Live our Queen!" and don't be sad.
She has been a good Queen, which no one dare gainsay,
And I hope God will protect her for many a day;
May He enable her a few more years to reign,
And let all her lieges say - Amen!
Let all hatred towards her be thrown aside
All o'er dominions broad and wide;
And let all her subjects bear in mind,
By God kings and queens are put in trust o'er mankind.
Therefore rejoice and be glad on her Jubilee day,
And try and make the heart of our Queen feel gay;
Oh! try and make her happy in country and town,
And not with Shakespeare say, "uneasy lies the head that wears a crown."
And as this is her first Jubilee year,
And will be her last, I rather fear:
Therefore, sound drums and trumpets cheerfully,
Until the echoes are heard o'er land and sea.
And let the innocent voices of the children at home or abroad
Ascend with cheerful shouts to the throne of God;
And sing aloud, "God Save our Gracious Queen!"
Because a good and charitable Sovereign she has been.
Therefore, ye sons of great Britain, come join with me,
And welcome in our noble Queen's Jubilee;
Because she has been a faithful Queen, ye must confess,
There hasn't been her equal since the days of Queen Bess.
Therefore let all her lieges shout and cheer,
"God Save our Gracious Queen!" for many a year;
let such be the cry in the peasant's cot, the hall,
With stentorian voices, as loud as they can bawl.
And let bonfires be kindled on every hill
And let her subjects dance around them at their freewill;
And try to drive dull care away
By singing and rejoicing on the Queen's Jubilee day.
May God protect her for many a day,
At home or abroad when she's far away;
Long may she be spared o'er her subjects to reign,
And let each and all with one voice say - Amen!
Victoria is a good Queen, which all he subjects know,
And for that may God protect her from every foe;
May He be as a hedge around her, as He's been all along.
And let her live and die in peace - is the end of my song.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rules
We live our lives by rules,
not ones of the governments,
or of what our religion teaches.
We might borrow from both,
but they are our rules,
made of our own volition,
and rules that we live our lives by.
14 November 2012
poem by David Harris
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Sir Richard's Song
(A. D. 1066)
I followed my Duke ere I was a lover,
To take from England fief and fee;
But now this game is the other way over--
But now England hath taken me!
I had my horse, my shield and banner,
And a boy's heart, so whole and free;
But now I sing in another manner--
But now England hath taken me!
As for my Father in his tower,
Asking news of my ship at sea,
He will remember his own hour--
Tell him England hath taken me!
As for my Mother in her bower,
That rules my Father so cunningly,
She will remember a maiden's power--
Tell her England hath taken me!
As for my Brother in Rouen City,
A nimble and naughty' page is he,
But he will come to suffer and pity--
Tell him England hath taken me!
As for my little Sister waiting
In the pleasant orchards of Normandie,
Tell her youth is the time for mating--
Tell her England hath taken me!
As for my comrades in camp and highway
That lift their eyebrows scornfully,
Tell them their way is not my way--
Tell them England hath taken me!
Kings and Princes and Barons famed,
Knights and Captains in your degree;
Hear me a little before I am blamed--
Seeing England hath taken me!
Howso great man's strength be reckoned,
There are two things he cannot flee.
Love is the first, and Death is the second-
And Love in England hath taken me!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Kochilogy
My daughter
Asks me:
What are
Your favourite
Subjects,
Mummy?
I tell her:
English
History
Biology
Philosop hy
Psychology
And
Kochilogy
She laughs
And giggles
At Kochilogy
And wonders
What may it be
I tell her:
It's all about her!
I love studying
Every aspect
Of her:
How she
Walks, talks,
Smiles :)
Giggles,
Laughs,
Cries, and
Everything
About her
That holds me
By surprise!
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Bow Down
Bow down to your divine gift
For you are but a man
She is your queen
Be a real man
You created of dust
She of your rib
Near your heart
Treat her with utmost love and respect
Care for her
Purity and Perfection
You took her from her parent's home
Treat with pride your queen
Bow down imbecile
Touch her feet
And keep the divine promise you made
Simple rules to follow
Be righteous with her
Be protective of her
Be husband, lover and friend
Clothe her as she clothe you
Appreciate her affections
Adorn her with prayers you have for yourself.
Persiankushi(RM) -27/06/12
poem by Persian Khushi
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The Death of the Queen
Alas! our noble and generous Queen Victoria is dead,
And I hope her soul to Heaven has fled,
To sing and rejoice with saints above,
Where ah is joy, peace, and love.
'Twas on January 22, 1901, in the evening she died at 6.30 o'clock,
Which to the civilised world has been a great shock;
She was surrounded by her children and grandchildren dear,
And for the motherly, pious Queen they shed many a tear.
She has been a model and faithful Queen,
Very few like her have been;
She has acted virtuously during her long reign,
And I'm afraid the world will never see her like again.
And during her reign she was beloved by the high and the low,
And through her decease the people's hearts are full of woe,
Because she was kind to her subjects at home and abroad,
And now she's receiving her reward from the Eternal God.
And during her reign in this world of trouble and strife
Several attempts were made to take her life;
Maclean he tried to shoot her, but he did fail,
But he was arrested and sent to an aaylum, which made him bewail.
Victoria was a,noble Queen, the people must confess,
She was most charitable to them while in distress;
And in her disposition she wasn't proud nor vain,
And tears for her loss will fall as plentiful as rain.
The people around Balmoral will shed many tears
Owing to her visits amongst them for many years;
She was very kind to the old, infirm women there,
By giving them provisions and occasionally a prayer.
And while at Balmoral she found work for men unemployed,
Which made the hearts of the poor men feel overjoyed;
And for Her Majesty they would have laid down their lives,
Because sometimes she saved them from starving, and their wives.
Many happy days she spent at Balmoral,
Viewing the blooming heather and the bonnie Highland floral,
Along with Prince Albert, her husband dear,
But alas! when he died she shed many a tear.
She was very charitable, as everybody knows,
But the loss of her husband caused her many woes,
Because he cheered her at Balmoral as they the heather trod,
But I hope she has met him now at the Throne of God.
They ascended the Hill of Morven when she was in her fortieth year,
And Her Majesty was delighted as she viewed the Highland deer;
Also dark Lochnagar, which is most beautiful to see,
Not far from Balmoral and the dark River Dee.
I hope they are walking in Heaven together as they did in life
In the beautiful celestial regions, free from all strife,
Where God's family together continually meet,
Where the streets are paved with gold, and everything complete.
Alas! for the loss of Queen Victoria the people will mourn,
But she unto them can never return;
Therefore to mourn for her is all in vain,
Knowing that she can never return again.
Therefore, good people, one and all,
Let us be prepared for death when God does on us call,
Like the good and noble Queen Victoria of renown,
The greatest and most virtuous Queen that ever wore a crown.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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An Ode to the Queen
All hail to the Empress of India, Great Britain's Queen!
Long may she live in health, happy and serene;
Loved by her subjects at home and abroad;
Blest may she be when lying down
To sleep, and rising up, by the Eternal God;
Happy may her visions be in sleep ...
And happy her thoughts in the day time;
Let all loyal subjects drink to her health
In a flowing bumper of Rhenish Wine.
And when the final hour shall come to summon her away,
May her soul be wafted to the realms of bliss,
I most sincerely do pray, to sing with saints above,
Where all is joy, peace and love -
In Heaven, for evermore to reign,
God Save the Queen. Amen.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Remnants From Lost Giving
Glad to keep them down they were.
Glad to talk about them...
In disrespectful jokes.
And to speak of their appearances...
To heighten laughs with other folks.
Glad to poke at them,
For being who they are!
But,
Since many have been foreclosed to debt...
The best laughs to hear,
None of them have heard yet.
And those are gifts returned,
By disclosures...
Of descendents,
Leaving remnants from lost giving!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I love England though; I've been back a few times and just love it. My favorite thing to do there is going to museums and all the castles. Oh, and my husband and I went mountain biking across England on our honeymoon!
quote by Catherine Bell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Greg
Greg a man of medium height and build is in his late sixties with the silver of time in his hair
In the early sixties he left his old Hometown in England for to experience life in the big World out there
He never did return to Scunthorpe or again set foot on his old Homeland shore
He grows old in this southern Country where one day his bones will rest forever more.
His only child a daughter has a teenage son and daughter and as for Bella his ex wife
Three years ago she married her lover since he is the great love of her life
And Greg lives alone in a Melbourne eastern Suburb in a two room flat he reside
A kind hearted and honest fellow of far off old England with nothing in his life for to hide.
But his English accent is still with him to his heritage a give away
The tongue of his old Mother Country until his end with him will stay
He lives off of his retirement pension his main interests greyhound racing and Aussie Rules football
With a great memory for names and faces past happenings he can readily recall.
On Saturday evening Greg goes to the Local Pub for a few drinks and a chat with his mates
And the main topic is Aussie Rules football the great games and the footballing greats
He seldom ever talks of England I'm a naturalized Aussie he say
I will live out my years in this Country and in Aussie soil my bones will lay.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Kitana My Daughter’s Cat
Kitana my daughter’s tomcat
Goes to school to practise to play
His new-tamed paws will march in a house
Rather than mow down a mouse
All day long he will twist his tongue
To chitchat with the Queen’s blue tongue
The rats and mice will sway their tails
With Kitana so hot on their trail
The teacher once voted a verse
But Kitana reversed for a dash
In a window had sat a rat
An offence to my daughter’s cat
He went for the hind of his find
The kind that satisfied his mind
He had gone to school on a fast
But now had a find for breakfast
Kitana Kitana they yelled
As children and teacher beheld
A bully had come to their school
And had no regard for the rules
Kitana was thrown out of school
For conduct that questioned the rules
So he went to court with his tail
To win back his name from their tale
The lady judge sat on dried rat
With table well made from dried fish
Vermin skin veiled all the windows
For fear of the street in shadows
Kitana your case you may state
The judge in her seat did dictate
Kitana licked his paws from the dock
In a bid to defend his frock
Kitana spoke in Queen’s blue tongue
Though hungry he stood there for long
He told of the degradation
The teacher had made his portion
The judge adjourned for five minutes
In which time her table diminished
Kitana with table in mouth
Disappeared from court without doubt
He never returned to the school
He never returned to be ruled
The judge so surprised did not fight
With case and table out of sight
Kitana was no more in sight
Not in school nor on dock nor on site
But Police dogged him with their dog
That never returned from the dream
poem by Moses Kainwo
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Attempted Assassination of the Queen
God prosper long our noble Queen,
And long may she reign!
Maclean he tried to shoot her,
But it was all in vain.
For God He turned the ball aside
Maclean aimed at her head;
And he felt very angry
Because he didn't shoot her dead.
There's a divinity that hedges a king,
And so it does seem,
And my opinion is, it has hedged
Our most gracious Queen.
Maclean must be a madman,
Which is obvious to be seen,
Or else he wouldn't have tried to shoot
Our most beloved Queen.
Victoria is a good Queen,
Which all her subjects know,
And for that God has protected her
From all her deadly foes.
She is noble and generous,
Her subjects must confess;
There hasn't been her equal
Since the days of good Queen Bess.
Long may she be spared to roam
Among the bonnie Highland floral,
And spend many a happy day
In the palace of Balmoral.
Because she is very kind
To the old women there,
And allows them bread, tea, and sugar,
And each one get a share.
And when they know of her coming,
Their hearts feel overjoy'd,
Because, in general, she finds work
For men that's unemploy'd.
And she also gives the gipsies money
While at Balmoral, I've been told,
And, mind ye, seldom silver,
But very often gold.
I hope God will protect her
By night and by day,
At home and abroad,
When she's far away.
May He be as a hedge around her,
As he's been all along,
And let her live and die in peace
Is the end of my song.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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In polite society one laughs at all the jokes, including the ones one has heard before.
quote by Frank Dane
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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