Zap Zapped
I fell in love with her that night in dark,
you see, twas my turn as a wolf to bark;
then she asked me to become a rooster,
a cool chicken cot was a morale booster.
July 9th it was, national day of chicken;
we both were of Zeus lightning, stricken;
and after that, darling, I had to disband,
since the zappy flash hit my tall manned.
Well, I promised to be back and contrib,
from my joy and happiness I fired a squib,
under her window to sing for roister-ous,
was my style to flirt a gal, and boisterous.
(Hmmm... Was that window yours or not?
I invoke thee, to externalize in my yacht;
when you aesthetically posted an affable;
like a gnu I had to moo, and kinda gargle ;)
Then I read a poem by an Easter chick,
on insubordinate free verse, thorny meek,
the story was fictitious but the gal real;
to my vociferous aria, she had to squeal.
Proudly I climbed a podium to stand alone,
My aporia was Gordian and my trombone,
clamorous played by itself in ways blatant
as poppies danced, with water lilies natant.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
September Chill.
Uncle brings in the dead chicken by
The neck and begins plucking out the
Feathers with a skill that fascinates
Your 10 year old eyes and as you stand
And watch the chicken gradually becomes
Nude and some how not so grand not so
Chicken-like and then Uncle cuts off the
Head and throws it a side and then guts
It and washes it through with water and
Then puts it down on a large plate where
It lays in a solemn silence without fanfare
Or hymns or prayers just Uncle lighting up
A cigarette and you staring at the chicken
Clean and pure and still and from the open
Window a cool evening late September chill.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chicken Hearted
(bill justis)
My girlfriend slipped and fell
Now she's hanging from a cliff
I can't come to her rescue
But these flowers i must sniff
You see i'd really like to save her
But i aint got the nerve
I'm chicken hearted
I'm chicken hearted
I'm tryin' to kiss my girl
And it makes me want to faint
I'm scared of my own shadow
And afraid of what i ain't
I've no inspiration
I'm kinda yellow...
I'm chicken hearted,
I'm chicken hearted
Mama's in the workshop
Daddy's in the jail
I seem to be afraid
To go to work and make their bail
I guess my folks will have to stay there
Cos i'm just like a snail
I'm chicken hearted,
I'm chicken hearted
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forcing The Window To Flow
At the window, rain drives
Drizzles and drizzles glow and go
Pushing and loosing the window to and fro
And some-one asked, who is at the window?
Pushing and pushing the window and dash?
In the dark of the night free and roll
Going for the next fresh candle of the day
At the window a hand goes and more, who is at the window?
She cried and roared the mall
And forced the window and banged and go.
poem by Paul Mwenelupembe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dont Look Back
Woman left for another man
Took youre car and a steely dan
Theres only one thing to do
Keep on walking and dont look back
Head on down to the chicken shack
Go and act like a maniac
Keep on walking and dont look back
Had a little trouble with a guy at work
Got a great big mouth for a little jerk
Got a lot of bills one check wont pay
And a love thats real is fading away
Theres only one thing to do
Keep on walking and dont look back
Head on down to the chicken shack
Go and act like a maniac
Keep on walking and dont look back
Keep on walking and dont look back
Dont you just sing the blues
Keep on walking and never look back
Put on your walking shoes
Keep on walking and dont look back, never look back
Just chalk it up to history, set yourself free
Keep on walking and dont look back
Head on down to the chicken shack
Go and act like a maniac
Keep on walking and dont look back
song performed by by Huey Lewis And The News
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crow Black Chicken
(laurence wilson)
Well, I went on the mountain
And I gave my horn a blow
Thought I heard some purty gal say
Yonder come my beau
Crow black chicken and crow for a day
Crow black chicken and fly away
Crow black chicken and-a ...
I like chicken pie
Well, the hardest work that ever I done
Is plowin a field of rye
The easiest work that ever I done
Was eatin chicken pie
Chicken crow for midnight
And chicken crow for a day
Along come an owl, lord, have mercy
And stole my chicken away
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode To Orange Chgicken
Orange chicken, oh orange chicken,
how much I love you.
You're sweet, sticky, and tangy, all at the same time,
you go great wi th soy sauce, but never with lime.
ode to orange chicken, which I love to devour,
it's been in my mouth so often, it knows that i have power.
It knows the names of my taste buds, Jill, Lil, and Bill,
sometimes the orange chicken is happy, but sometimes it's held against it's will.
Whenever I eat orange chicken, it goes CRUNCH, CRUNCH,
and I have to have chow mein, and that goes MUCH, MUNCH!
Ode to orange chicken, it is always in a bowl,
but did I mention, i also love eggrolls.
poem by Aubrey Harmel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time And Space
space is like an eggwhite
enclosing a
yellow yolk of this
chicken egg,
time grows and becomes
the chick
and it may become a hen or a rooster
but there is this element
of growing up which we call time,
time too dies, like that rooster
ran-over by a car,
the car is fate, and
fate is always acceptable as a
comfortable explanation,
the explanation becomes
your key and you switch it on
to make things move
time moves, and this time
becomes the key that strikes
the ignition to make the engine move and so
and the engine becomes your life,
and your life moves to places and travels on events of history
and sees the strips of a film of trees and post
streamlining your forehead
against a glass window
but your life can be so stagnant inside
a prison, this emptiness and this hollow space
becomes your garage, you stay put
you refuse to be free
and you are the door with lock and key.
there are many more, but this
time, time becomes so short, like
a yelping puppy.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Chicken's Life
we watch it from the beginning
an egg, plus days
hatching into a chick
seeing the first light
of the bulb
and the hen pushes
each chick into
the ground to feed
by themselves
until some feathers grow
beaks and claws
now we view a full grown
chicken,
at least, i am not talking
about a coward, do you understand?
do not, please,
chicken out from life's bitter days
we were babies
not chicks
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ode to Chickens
An Ode to Chickens
Oh chicken, oh chicken,
With orange little feet,
All white and fluffy,
So good to eat,
Oh chicken, oh chicken,
I will get you so fat,
Then I will kill you,
And eat you at last
poem by Trevor Cummins
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Three Cool Cats
Three cool cats,
Three cool cats
Are coming up in a beat up car,
Spitting up a lift of candy bar
Talking on about how sharp they are.
Three cool cats.
Three cool chicks
Are walking down the street
Swinging their hips,
Splitting up a bag of potatoe chips
I think cool cats really did flip.
Three cool chicks
Three cool chicks.
Well up came that first cool cat,
He said: man look at that.
Man, do you see what i see?
Well i want that middle chick
I want that little chick.
Hey man save once chick for me.
Well three cool chicks.
Three cool chicks.
Well they love like
Angels from up above
And three cool cats
Really fell in love.
But three cool chicks
Made three fools out of
Three cool cats.
Three cool cats.
Well up came that first cool cat,
He said: man look at that.
Man do you see what i see?
Well i want that middle chick,
I want that little chick.
Hey man, save one chick for me.
Three cool chicks.
Three cool chicks.
They look like
Angels from up above
And three cool cats
Really fell in love.
And three cool chicks
Made three fools out of
Three cool cats.
Three cool cats.
Three cool cats.
Three cool cats.
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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MAMMA'S BAKED CHICKEN AND RICE...by Talile Ali
YOU DON'T KNOW HOW SPECIAL AND NICE
I FELT ABOUT MAMMA'S CHICKEN AND RICE
BUT FOR ME AT THE TIME IT WAS BEYOND PRICE
EVERY DAY MAMMA'S CHICKEN AND RICE
WHEN I WAS SICK AND NEEDED YOUR CARE
WITHOUT GATTING A LASH CHICKEN AND RICE WAS THERE
THE DOCTORS TOLD YOU BLAND, AND THAT WAS FINE BY ME
CHICKEN AND RICE MADE BLAND SPECIAL FOR ALL TO SEE
AT FIRST AFTER DAY'S OF HAVING THIS SERVED TO ME
I WAS PISSED AS HELL TILL I HAD A TALK WITH MY BUDDY
EVERY DAY HE'D COME OVER TO GET ME TO PLAY
AND HE'D SEE ME FINISHING MY CHICKEN AND RICE EVERY DAY
HE SAID THAT YOUR MOMMA MUST REALLY LOVE YOU
SHE MAKES THAT EVERY DAY, AND ON THE WEEK ENDS TO
SHE GOES IT SO QUICKLY AND IT SMELLS SO GOOD
YOUR MOMMA MUST REALLY LOVE, I WISH MY MOMMY WOULD
I LOOKED AT MY BUDDY AND SAW IN HIS FACE
THE TRUTH AND THE HONESTY ALL PLAIN IN PLACE
AND FROM THAT DAY FORWARD I SMILED WHUEN I HEARD
MY MOM CALL MY NAME TO COME EAT THOSE THREE WORDS
CHICKEN AND RICE, CHICKEN AND RICE I SAY
MY MOM MADE THE BEST, IN HER OWN SPECIAL WAY
WHEN EVER I AM FEELING WSPECIALLY NICE
I WOULD ALWAYS FIND AN EXCUSE TO HAVE CHICKEN AND RICE
SO MOMMA, YOU NEEDED TO JUST HERE ME SAY
I APPRECIATE THE LOVE THAT YOU GIVE ME EVERY DAY
AND THOUGH IT MAY SEEM LIKE I AM BEING UNKIND
IF SO, I'M JUST BEING FOOLISH AND MANIPULATIVE THAT TIME
YOU ALWAYS COULD BRING OUT THE BABY IN ME
AND FOR THAT AND THE CARING THIS POEM YOU DID SEED
THANK YOU MOM, DEAR LADY FOR ALL OF THE ABOVE
AND THE CHICKEN AND RICE AND THESE MEMORIES OF LOVE
poem by Talile Ali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mamma's Baked Chicken And Rice
YOU DON'T KNOW HOW SPECIAL AND NICE
I FELT ABOUT MAMMA'S CHICKEN AND RICE
BUT FOR ME AT THE TIME IT WAS BEYOND PRICE
EVERY DAY MAMMA'S CHICKEN AND RICE
WHEN I WAS SICK AND NEEDED YOUR CARE
WITHOUT GATTING A LASH CHICKEN AND RICE WAS THERE
THE DOCTORS TOLD YOU BLAND, AND THAT WAS FINE BY ME
CHICKEN AND RICE MADE BLAND SPECIAL FOR ALL TO SEE
AT FIRST AFTER DAY'S OF HAVING THIS SERVED TO ME
I WAS PISSED AS HELL TILL I HAD A TALK WITH MY BUDDY
EVERY DAY HE'D COME OVER TO GET ME TO PLAY
AND HE'D SEE ME FINISHING MY CHICKEN AND RICE EVERY DAY
HE SAID THAT YOUR MOMMA MUST REALLY LOVE YOU
SHE MAKES THAT EVERY DAY, AND ON THE WEEK ENDS TO
SHE GOES IT SO QUICKLY AND IT SMELLS SO GOOD
YOUR MOMMA MUST REALLY LOVE, I WISH MY MOMMY WOULD
I LOOKED AT MY BUDDY AND SAW IN HIS FACE
THE TRUTH AND THE HONESTY ALL PLAIN IN PLACE
AND FROM THAT DAY FORWARD I SMILED WHUEN I HEARD
MY MOM CALL MY NAME TO COME EAT THOSE THREE WORDS
CHICKEN AND RICE, CHICKEN AND RICE I SAY
MY MOM MADE THE BEST, IN HER OWN SPECIAL WAY
WHEN EVER I AM FEELING WSPECIALLY NICE
I WOULD ALWAYS FIND AN EXCUSE TO HAVE CHICKEN AND RICE
SO MOMMA, YOU NEEDED TO JUST HERE ME SAY
I APPRECIATE THE LOVE THAT YOU GIVE ME EVERY DAY
AND THOUGH IT MAY SEEM LIKE I AM BEING UNKIND
IF SO, I'M JUST BEING FOOLISH AND MANIPULATIVE THAT TIME
YOU ALWAYS COULD BRING OUT THE BABY IN ME
AND FOR THAT AND THE CARING THIS POEM YOU DID SEED
THANK YOU MOM, DEAR LADY FOR ALL OF THE ABOVE
AND THE CHICKEN AND RICE AND THESE MEMORIES OF LOVE
poem by Talile Ali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Outside My Window - Sarah Buxton
Outside my window,
I see a redbird singin',
Sittin' on a wire,
Wish I knew what he's thinkin'.
Outside my window,
I see a couple kissin'.
Huggin and a-lovin',
Man, that's just what I've been missin'.
These days, when everything is crazy,
Some things are never, ever changin'.
(chorus)
You still need stars when you're wishin' at night,
A best friend to set you right,
A good laugh, a warm bath,
And a beautiful song you can sing along to.
Good news that'll make you cry,
All the little things that money can't buy,
No wars, no more,
Just a big rainbow
Outside my window.
La la la la la la.
Outside my window,
I see the bluest ocean,
Sails in the sunlight,
Rockin' in the sweetest motion.
Outside my window,
I hear the church bells ringin',
Nobody fightin',
Over what hymn they're singin'.
I know, I'm dreamin' like a child,
But some things just don't go out of style, like:
(chorus)
La la la la la la.
(Outside my window.)
La la la la la la.
Outside my window,
I see a flag that's wavin',
Hands joined together,
Everybody's celebrating. (Yeah!)
La la la la la la.
Outside my window.
La la la la la la.
Everybody look outside my window.
(chorus)
La la la la la la.
(Outside my window.)
La la la la la la.
(Outside my window.)
La la la la la la.
(Outside my window.)
La la la la la la.
(Everybody look outside my window.)
La la la la la la.
(Live...live.)
La la la la la la.
Oh, oh.
(Outside, outside.)
La la la la la la.
(Live...live.)
La la la la la la.
(Outside my window.)
La la la la la la.
(Live...live.)
(Outside, outside.)
(Outside my window.)
La la la la la la.
poem by Rebecca Ryan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On & On (Mersey Song)
Out through the foggy window there just to see the eyes of my future children
looking back at me back through the foggy window
on and on miles pass years turn over
on and on there from that rolled down window ponies run free
cradled protectively there in the greenery somewhere I keep this picture
on and on miles pass years turn over
on and on for all the roads we've travelled
and all the bridges burned I was thinking out loud the ways
of the world that all seem so constant how few
of the lessons we really have learned.
out through the foggy window frozen in frame capturing passing pictures
life's last refrain, memories ashes scatter
on and on miles pass years turn over
on and on
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To an Ungentle Critic
The great sun sinks behind the town
Through a red mist of Volnay wine....
But what’s the use of setting down
That glorious blaze behind the town?
You’ll only skip the page, you’ll look
For newer pictures in this book;
You’ve read of sunsets rich as mine.
A fresh wind fills the evening air
With horrid crying of night birds....
But what reads new or curious there
When cold winds fly across the air?
You’ll only frown; you’ll turn the page,
But find no glimpse of your “New Age
Of Poetry” in my worn-out words.
Must winds that cut like blades of steel
And sunsets swimming in Volnay,
The holiest, cruellest pains I feel,
Die stillborn, because old men squeal
For something new: “Write something new:
We’ve read this poem—that one too,
And twelve more like ’em yesterday”?
No, no! my chicken, I shall scrawl
Just what I fancy as I strike it,
Fairies and Fusiliers, and all
Old broken knock-kneed thought will crawl
Across my verse in the classic way.
And, sir, be careful what you say;
There are old-fashioned folk still like it.
poem by Robert Graves
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On & On
Music by 10,000 maniacs - lyrics by mary ramsey
Out through the foggy window there
Just to see the eyes of my future children
Looking back at me
Back through the foggy window
On and on
Miles pass years turn over
On and on
There from that rolled down window
Ponies run free cradled protectively
There in the greenery somewhere
I keep this picture
On and on
Miles pass years turn over
On and on
For all the roads we've travelled
And all the bridges burned
I was thinking out loud the ways of the world
That all seem so constant
How few of the lessons we really have learned.
Out through the foggy window frozen in frame
Capturing passing pictures life's lastrefrain,
Memories ashes scatter
On and on
Miles pass years turn over
On and on.
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Sit By The Window
I said fate plays a game without a score,
and who needs fish if you've got caviar?
The triumph of the Gothic style would come to pass
and turn you on--no need for coke, or grass.
I sit by the window. Outside, an aspen.
When I loved, I loved deeply. It wasn't often.
I said the forest's only part of a tree.
Who needs the whole girl if you've got her knee?
Sick of the dust raised by the modern era,
the Russian eye would rest on an Estonian spire.
I sit by the window. The dishes are done.
I was happy here. But I won't be again.
I wrote: The bulb looks at the flower in fear,
and love, as an act, lacks a verb; the zer-
o Euclid thought the vanishing point became
wasn't math--it was the nothingness of Time.
I sit by the window. And while I sit
my youth comes back. Sometimes I'd smile. Or spit.
I said that the leaf may destory the bud;
what's fertile falls in fallow soil--a dud;
that on the flat field, the unshadowed plain
nature spills the seeds of trees in vain.
I sit by the window. Hands lock my knees.
My heavy shadow's my squat company.
My song was out of tune, my voice was cracked,
but at least no chorus can ever sing it back.
That talk like this reaps no reward bewilders
no one--no one's legs rest on my sholders.
I sit by the window in the dark. Like an express,
the waves behind the wavelike curtain crash.
A loyal subject of these second-rate years,
I proudly admit that my finest ideas
are second-rate, and may the future take them
as trophies of my struggle against suffocation.
I sit in the dark. And it would be hard to figure out
which is worse; the dark inside, or the darkness out.
Anonymous Submission
poem by Joseph Brodsky
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On On
Music by 10,000 maniacs - lyrics by mary ramsey
Out through the foggy window there
Just to see the eyes of my future children
Looking back at me
Back through the foggy window
On and on
Miles pass years turn over
On and on
There from that rolled down window
Ponies run free cradled protectively
There in the greenery somewhere
I keep this picture
On and on
Miles pass years turn over
On and on
For all the roads weve travelled
And all the bridges burned
I was thinking out loud the ways of the world
That all seem so constant
How few of the lessons we really have learned.
Out through the foggy window frozen in frame
Capturing passing pictures lifes lastrefrain,
Memories ashes scatter
On and on
Miles pass years turn over
On and on.
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life Is Just A Tire Swing
By: jimmy buffett
1974
I remember the smell of the creosote plant
When wed have to eat on easter with my crazy old uncle and aunt
They lived in a big house, antebellum style (antebellum)
And the winds would blow across the old bayou
And I was a tranquil little child
Chorus:
Life was just a tire swing
jambalaya was the only song I could sing
Blackberry pickin, eatin fried chicken
And I never knew a thing about pain
Life was just a tire swing
In a few summers my folks packed me off to camp
Yeah me and my cousin baxter in our pup tent with a lamp
And in a few days baxter went home and he left me by myself
But I knew that Id stay, it was better that way
And I could get along without any help
Chorus:
Life was just a tire swing
jambalaya was the only song I could sing
Chasin after sparrows with rubber-tipped arrows
Knowin I could never hurt a thing
Life was just a tire swing (tire swing)
And I never been west of new orleans or east of pensacola
My only contact with the outside world was an rca victrola
And elvis would sing and then Id dream about expensive cars
And who wouldve figured twenty years later
Id be rubbin shoulders with the stars
Life was just a tire swing
Then the other mornin on some illinois road
I fell asleep at the wheel
But was quickly wakened up by a ma bell telephone pole
And a bunch of grant wood faces screamin is he still alive?
Through the window I could see it hangin from a tree
And I knew that I had survived
And life is still a tire swing
jambalaya is the best song I can sing
Blackberry pickin, eatin fried chicken
But I finally learned a lot about pain
Life is just a tire swing (tire swing)
Life was just a tire swing (tire swing)
Life was just a tire swing (tire swing)
Life was just a tire swing (tire swing)
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tender Buttons [Chicken]
CHICKEN.
Pheasant and chicken, chicken is a peculiar third.
CHICKEN.
Alas a dirty word, alas a dirty third alas a dirty third, alas a dirty bird.
CHICKEN.
Alas a doubt in case of more go to say what it is cress. What is it. Mean. Why. Potato. Loaves.
CHICKEN.
Stick stick call then, stick stick sticking, sticking with a chicken. Sticking in a extra succession, sticking in.
poem by Gertrude Stein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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