Rebecca
Who Slammed Doors For Fun And Perished Miserably
A trick that everyone abhors
In little girls is slamming doors.
A wealthy banker's little daughter
Who lived in Palace Green, Bayswater
(By name Rebecca Offendort),
Was given to this furious sport.
She would deliberately go
And slam the door like billy-o!
To make her uncle Jacob start.
She was not really bad at heart,
But only rather rude and wild;
She was an aggravating child...
It happened that a marble bust
Of Abraham was standing just
Above the door this little lamb
Had carefully prepared to slam,
And down it came! It knocked her flat!
It laid her out! She looked like that.
Her funeral sermon (which was long
And followed by a sacred song)
Mentioned her virtues, it is true,
But dwelt upon her vices too,
And showed the deadful end of one
Who goes and slams the door for fun.
The children who were brought to hear
The awful tale from far and near
Were much impressed, and inly swore
They never more would slam the door,
-- As often they had done before.
poem by Hilaire Belloc
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Rebecca on another note
why did you slam the door?
now, do you regret
that you have finally died
just because you slam
the door
and then this poet who writes
about you
kills you with a mere slam?
don't you think that he is not just
witty but too
a little bit cruel?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Doors That Slam
Doors that slam and shut real tight
usually happen after the fight.
Behind those doors tears do drop,
taking their time before they stop.
After they've dried and calm's prevailed
you wonder why it is that you failed
to recognize how you let tears creep
into your eyes that made you weep.
Surely this scene you've had before.
Stubborness and pride slammed that door.
The emotions of love get all mixed in.
It's then that your head goes into a spin.
But down deep inside what made you cry
is the ego you own and that is why
you are more than ego. You are all heart.
The door you slammed tore your own heart apart.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Ogre Slam-The-Door
There is a certain castle that is beautiful and fair,
And plants, and birds, and pretty things, fill every room and hall,
But alas! for the unhappy folks who make their dwelling there,
A dreadful ogre haunts the house and tries to kill them all.
Some day I fear will find them dead and stretched out in their gore
The victims of this ogre grim, this wicked Slam-the-door!
He's a very tiny ogre just about as tall as you!
He never carries hidden arms, or plays with guns and knives.
And yet he almost splits the heads of people thro' and thro.'
And I think him very dangerous to comfort and to lives.
And he often shakes the castle from the ceiling to the floor.
This awful, awful ogre known as little Slam-the-door.
He gets up bright and early, and he's, oh, so wide awake!
And wo! to all the sleepy heads and invalids who doze,
They dream the sky is caving in, or that a vast earthquake
Has suddenly convulsed the world and ended their repose,
As to and fro, and up and down, still noisier than before,
They hear the hurrying, flurrying feet of ogre Slam-the-door.
Though the Princess of the Castle has a headache, and is ill,
Though the Prince is in his study and wants quiet for an hour,
This wicked little ogre won't be quiet-or keep still
I almost think he sometimes knows he has them in his power.
Alas, alas for all the folks, their sorrows I deplore-
The folks shut in that castle with the ogre Slam-the-door.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Rebecca For The Third Time
whoever put
the bust of Abraham
Lincoln by that
door
must be answerable
to you
Rebecca.
May your
soul rest in peace
for slamming
Hilaire Belloc's
door.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Be That Way
(stephony smith/bob dipiero)
Every time I turn around
I run into your pride
Sometimes Im not so sure if I wanna
Know that guy, know that guy
cause you got a rock hard head
Stubborn as a mule
Oh, yeah, and by the way, I still love you
Go on and be that way
Slam that door
Make a scene
Yell some more
Come on lets have it out
Have your say
cause with a love this strong
Baby its okay
For you to be that way
Sometimes what you dont say
Can make the deepest cut
And I get my feelings hurt
And I just go nuts, well a little nuts
So try to ignore that girl
Shes just blowin off steam
Oh and I dont know about her
But I hope you say to me
Go on and be that way
Slam that door
Make a scene
Yell some more
Come on lets have it out
Have your say
cause with a love this strong
Baby its okay
For you to be that way
Baby lets get emotional
What do you say we let it all go
Let it go
Go on and be that way
Slam that door
Make a scene
Yell some more
Come on lets have it out
Have your say
cause with a love this strong
Baby its okay
For you to be that way
Be that way, oh yeah
song performed by by Martina Mcbride
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Palmed Heart
I knocked on the door of her soul
peered into its window
tried to see her there at the table
where she sits each day;
I listened for her heart beats
tried to divine her secret place
her mystery needs.
But no;
my trek and voyeurism
came to naught;
she kept all her secrets in her pillow keep
and I had at last
to knock her door
and wait for her to turn the lock
peer out
and ask
'Hi, do I know you? '
She did not; but my eyes had fixed her
many times
and she knew them, their gaze.
She looked at me-
looked at my eyes-
beginning to slowly recognize
they had sought her many times.
I hoped they could speak for me
that they could communicate what words could not convey.
But, I could only stand there and allow proximity
to inveigh what I could not, make my silence speak;
place my soul in the palm of my hand
for long seconds
while she looked and looked
a puzzle-stranger at her door.
She finally said.
'Come in, have something to drink; I have made some tea.
I think she recognized me finally
as someone who from afar
had given her their heart
and she was kind enough
not to slam the door
on it
and I.
It was not love
but kindness here
but that dear reader
is what allows True Love in the door
and she did.
And that was the main thing I needed to know about her
and that was what made me love her.
first from afar
and now
up close.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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The Spirit Of Lust
I thought you were history when,
I heard the slam at the door!
But like the tale of two obsessions in love,
We are like the musical chairs on this love.
My son is for the sun and your mum is for the moon,
But i thought you were history when i heard the slam at the door!
And if only tears were laughter,
Then, i will be able to take you along to paradise.
I am dumped without a clue to use the glue,
But the Spirit of Satan is like the spirit of lust;
And if only the nights were days,
Then, i would be able to see your face better.
You came and took my heart away!
But if only distances were closer,
Then, i could have crossed over to meet you;
However, the Spirit of Satan is like the spirit of lust.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Go On and Slam The Door
Huffin' with a puffin' isn't something that one plans on.
Nor is it considered as a wish that came and has gone.
You can throw a fit!
But how does that,
Benefit need?
Go on and slam the door!
Huffin' with a puffin' isn't something that one plans on.
Nor is it considered as a wish that came and has gone.
You can throw a fit!
But how does that,
Benefit need?
Go on and slam the door!
Its all been done before.
Your rudeness I'll ignore...
And your nasty snapping.
Go on and slam the door!
Its all been done before.
Your rudeness I'll ignore...
And your nasty snapping.
You can throw a fit!
But how does that,
Benefit need?
Huffin' with a puffin' isn't something that one plans on.
Nor is it considered as a wish that came and has gone.
You can throw a fit!
But how does that,
Benefit need?
Go on and slam the door!
You can throw a fit!
But how does that,
Benefit need?
Go on and slam the door!
Its all been done before.
You can throw a fit!
But how does that,
Benefit need?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Too Unlucky
unlucky girl
Rebecca
who died
after slamming
the door
Poor girl Rebecca!
I must be a very lucky man
for i have lived
all my life
slamming
many doors behind me
and look
oh my!
I am
still alive.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Another Variation For Rebecca
naughty child
Rebecca
slamming the door
of the house
with your
genetic agility
how did
Abraham's bust
ever kill
you?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Respectable Street
Heard the neighbour slam his car door,
Don't he realise this is respectable street?
What d'you think he bought that car for?
'cause he realise this is respectable street
Now they talk about absorption,
In cosmopolitan proportions to their daughters,
As they speak of child prevention,
And immaculate receptions on their portable,
Sony entertainment centres.
Heard the neighbour slam his car door,
Don't he realise this is respectable street?
What d'you think he bought that car for?
'cause he realise this is respectable street
Now she speak about diseases,
And which proposition pleases best her old man,
Avon lady fills the creases,
When she manages to squeeze in past the caravans,
That never move from their front gardens.
It's in the order of their hedgerows,
It's in the way their curtains open and close,
It's in the look they give you down their nose,
All part of decency's jigsaw i suppose.
Sunday church and they look fetching,
Saturday night saw him stretching over our fence,
Bang the wall for me to turn down,
I can see them with their stern frown,
As they dispense the kind of look that says they're perfect.
Heard the neighbour slam his car door,
Don't he realise this is respectable street?
What d'you think he bought that car for?
'cause he realise this is respectable street
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rainy Day
Rainy Day
It was eight in the morning when I heard
a car door slam and a car drive off.
It rained all day and it soothed my nerves
to hear water trickle down old roof tiles;
stuck indoors, I didn't have an umbrella.
Five o'clock, afternoon, the car returned
and the same door slammed shut,
the rain continued, the water trickling
was a Geneva Convention offence; utterly
bored now and still without an umbrella.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Trick Bag
12:00 o' clock at night--you walk out the door.
You told me baby--you were going to the drug-store.
Well, in my mind, I knew you were lying;
The drug-store closed at a quarter to nine.
I say I saw you kissing Jimmy across the fence,
I heard you telling Jimmy I ain't got no sense.
The way you've been acting is such a drag;
You done put me in a trick-bag.
When I come home, start an argument,
Just to keep you from asking where my voodoo went.
Peep out the front door--I hear the back door slam.
I peek out of my window--somebody's taking it on the lam.
I say I saw you kissing Jimmy across the fence,
I heard you telling Jimmy I ain't got no sense.
The way you've been acting is such a drag;
You done put me in a trick-bag.
We had a fight, then you got mad;
Got on the telephone--called your mom and dad.
Dad said, "She's my daughter and I'm her pa,
And you ain't nothing but a son-in-law."
I say I saw you kissing Jimmy across the fence,
I heard you telling Jimmy I ain't got no sense.
The way you've been acting is such a drag;
You done put me in a trick-bag.
Yeah, yeah x4
song performed by by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Guess Where the Peace and Silence Is?
Come here!
Stand over there.
Do you hear anything?
'No! Just silence.'
Where is that silence?
'Over there...
Where you are standing! '
You are correct!
NOW...
What did you hear?
'A slammed door!
You slammed the door.'
Exactly!
And guess where the peace and silence is?
'It's where you are!
On the other side of the door!
There is none where I am.
What are you doing?
And what is this for?
There is one rule that I adore.
No conflicts come within my limits,
To occupy my time or visit!
And that's how it is going to stay!
You wish to come into my home...
To present your point of view,
Of crisis upon crisis...
You desire to attached me with?
I'm not having none of it!
Not as long as I can do...
What you know now I will not permit!
You have taken what you brought in with you.
Be on your way...
Split!
Have a good night.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Door Of The House Of My Ancestors
this morning i am
confronted with an old door
of the old house of my
ancestors,
the rust that eats the hinges
finally frees the door
at last!
it was enslaved by the haunting
sounds of the sudden
slam
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Doors You Can't See
The strangest things about these doors.
When they're shut.
You can't say one thing more.
They're always carried around by those ones
That have seen lots of abuse?
For which... there really was no excuse.
Yet, when you love or care or are married
To one of those... that were forced to live there!
It's hard to prove.. that you really care....
Because when they perceive... or think something is not just right.
They back up,
Slamming those doors(bang) in your face, tight!
Or when you see that blank face.
Here comes the door's.
And all you can do is stand there.. stare...
At the crying... helplessly... and more...
Waching... unable to do anything
As tears fall on the floor...
I know it's perceived... the doors that you cannot see....
The doors shutting and slamming... in your face....
But... so is the battle with time...
With you winning that race...
Or that old statement....
How they had egg on their face....
You can't actually see it....
Yet...just like that door
It's.....really.. there..................
poem by Clyde Bryson
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Slam Dunk The Funk
Slam Dunk The Funk
Five
(5ive)
Five bad boys with the power to rock you
Blowing your mind so you gotta get into
Five, whatcha waiting four if you wanna
Three (three)
Two (two)
One let's do it
Do you wanna get freaky
when the five of us make one
You gotta push the good vibe on
If you really wanna feel it
Got da flava in my song
But I really need to know
Do you wanna get down
Do you wanna get funky
Do you wanna get down
Get on down
[Chorus:]
Slam dunk da funk, put it up
(If you got that feeling)
Slam dunk da funk, put it up
(If you got that feeling)
Slam dunk da funk, put it up
(If you got that feeling)
Slam dunk da funk
(put it up)
You gotta shoot, pass, slam baby time to set it off
I'll be up, up away, above the rim and hook a shot
Ally oop, baby, whoop, there it is and now I gotcha
Three seconds left, it's just enuff for me to rock ya
Now check it, how I flip it rock a beat 'cause
I get with it and everybody wants to be the man
with a hey, yippee yo yippee four quarter slam
everybody grab a party and just get on down
Do you wanna get down
Do you wanna get funky
Do you wanna get down
Get on down
[Chorus:]
Slam dunk da funk, put it up
(If you got that feeling)
Slam dunk da funk, put it up
(If you got that feeling)
Slam dunk da funk, put it up
(If you got that feeling)
Slam dunk da funk
(put it up)
You wanna know what hits you like a fork lift truck
We got J, AB, Rich, Sean and Scott rocking the extra
Curricular ladies love particular fella
Who knock da meter get the boom shake regular
Five bad boys, honey no, we don't quit til we hit
The rebound sound with a kick
So come on everybody, everybody in tune
As I boomshake n' rock a body
Gimme room
Clap your hands
Stamp your feet
Push it in, pull it out to the beat
[Chorus:]
Slam dunk da funk, put it up
(If you got that feeling)
Slam dunk da funk, put it up
(If you got that feeling)
Slam dunk da funk, put it up
(If you got that feeling)
Slam dunk da funk
(put it up)
From LBV10000 ([email protected])
song performed by by Five
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The funniest thing happened in one of my first scenes. In the beginning Emma was really arrogant and punk and in every scene she would slam the door when she walked in or out.
quote by Dannii Minogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Doors
A door may open
Or it may close
It may be wooden
Or steel, I suppose.
A door keeps us in
Or may lock us out,
A door may be silent
Or with noise, may shout.
Doors are for safety,
Our protection -
May rot in antiquity
Lose purpose and mission.
A door like chance,
Can open a dream.
A door like romance,
Can cause some steam.
But there is one door
With its key - never part,
Freely open, evermore -
The door of your heart!
Cynthia BuhainBaello
February 19,2012
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Behind The Door
With trembling hand,
I knocked upon the door,
which someone had sent me to.
They told me a new life
awaits me there.
I reached out
and knocked on the door
not knowing when it opened
exactly what I’d find.
My heart beat faster,
almost racing from my chest.
I could hear footsteps
coming from within.
My hand trembled even more
as the footsteps headed towards the door.
I stood there in anticipations
as the door begins to open wide.
So far, I have not told you
who will be coming to the door.
Will it be a long lost sibling,
a future love, or even God?
I will have to let you decide,
because being a nervous person.
The suspense was killing me,
so I ran and hid, and never saw
who was it answering the door.
poem by David Harris
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