Prior To Miss Belle's Appearance
What makes you come HERE fer, Mister,
So much to our house?--SAY?
Come to see our big sister!--
An' Charley he says 'at you kissed her
An' he ketched you, th'uther day!--
Didn' you, Charley?--But we p'omised Belle
An' crossed our heart to never to tell--
'Cause SHE gived us some o' them-er
Chawk'lut-drops 'at you bringed to her!
Charley he's my little b'uther--
An' we has a-mostest fun,
Don't we, Charley?--Our Muther,
Whenever we whips one anuther,
Tries to whip US--an' we RUN--
Don't we, Charley?--An' nen, bime-by,
Nen she gives us cake--an' pie--
Don't she, Charley?--when we come in
An' pomise never to do it ag'in!
HE'S named Charley.--I'm WILLIE--
An' I'm got the purtiest name!
But Uncle Bob HE calls me 'Billy'--
Don't he, Charley?--'N' our filly
We named 'Billy,' the same
Ist like me! An' our Ma said
'At 'Bob puts foolishnuss into our head!'--
Didn' she, Charley?--An' SHE don't know
Much about BOYS!--'Cause Bob said so!
Baby's a funniest feller!
Nain't no hair on his head--
IS they, Charley?--It's meller
Wite up there! An' ef Belle er
Us ask wuz WE that way, Ma said,--
'Yes; an' yer PA'S head wuz soft as that,
An' it's that way yet!'--An' Pa grabs his hat
An' says, 'Yes, childern, she's right about Pa--
'Cause that's the reason he married yer Ma!'
An' our Ma says 'at 'Belle couldn'
Ketch nothin' at all but ist 'BOWS!'--
An' PA says 'at 'you're soft as puddun!'--
An' UNCLE BOB says 'you're a good-un--
'Cause he can tell by yer nose!'-
Didn' he, Charley?--An' when Belle'll play
In the poller on th' pianer, some day,
Bob makes up funny songs about you,
Till she gits mad-like he wants her to!
Our sister FANNY she's 'LEVEN
Years old! 'At's mucher 'an _I_--
Ain't it, Charley? . . . I'm seven!--
But our sister Fanny's in HEAVEN!
Nere's where you go ef you die!--
Don't you, Charley?--Nen you has WINGS--
IST LIKE FANNY!--an' PURTIEST THINGS!--
Don't you, Charley?--An' nen you can FLY--
Ist fly-an' EVER'thing! . . . I Wisht I'D die!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Baby Charley.
He's fast asleep. See how, O Wife,
Night's finger on the lip of life
Bids whist the tongue, so prattle-rife,
Of busy Baby Charley.
One arm stretched backward round his head,
Five little toes from out the bed
Just showing, like five rosebuds red,
-- So slumbers Baby Charley.
Heaven-lights, I know, are beaming through
Those lucent eyelids, veined with blue,
That shut away from mortal view
Large eyes of Baby Charley.
O sweet Sleep-Angel, throned now
On the round glory of his brow,
Wave thy wing and waft my vow
Breathed over Baby Charley.
I vow that my heart, when death is nigh,
Shall never shiver with a sigh
For act of hand or tongue or eye
That wronged my Baby Charley!
poem by Sidney Lanier
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241st Chorus
And how sweet a story it is
When you hear Charley Parker
tell it,
Either on records or at sessions,
Or at offical bits in clubs,
Shots in the arm for the wallet,
Gleefully he Whistled the
perfect
horn
Anyhow, made no difference.
Charley Parker, forgive me-
Forgive me for not answering your eyes-
For not having made in indication
Of that which you can devise-
Charley Parker, pray for me-
Pray for me and everybody
In the Nirvanas of your brain
Where you hide, indulgent and huge,
No longer Charley Parker
But the secret unsayable name
That carries with it merit
Not to be measured from here
To up, down, east, or west-
-Charley Parker, lay the bane,
off me, and every body
poem by Jack Kerouac
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Charley Plays A Tune
Charley Plays a Tune
By Michael Lee Johnson
(Version 4)
Crippled, in Chicago,
with arthritis
and Alzheimer's,
in a dark rented room,
Charley plays
melancholic melodies
on a dust-filled
harmonica he
found abandoned
on a playground of sand
years ago by a handful of children
playing on monkey bars.
He hears bedlam when he buys fish at the local market
and the skeleton bones of the fish show through.
He lies on his back, riddled with pain,
pine cones fill his pillows and mattress;
praying to Jesus and rubbing his rosary beads
Charley blows tunes out his
celestial instrument
notes float through the open window
touch the nose of summer clouds.
Charley overtakes himself with grief
and is ecstatically alone.
Charley plays a solo tune.
-2010-
poem by Michael Lee Johnson
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What qualifies me to tell people how to act or what to think? I'm Charley Pride, country singer. Period.
quote by Charley Pride
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good Time Charley's
(Jerry Chesnut)
Oh I know a place called Good Time Charley's
A little four piece band swingin' out of sight
And I'll be here if you want to party
From nine in the morning 'til twelve at night
Two miles from town 'cross the railroad track
Turn right at the light and park in the back
You're always welcome don't forget to drop in
Old Charley done time two years in the pen
Well the beat goes on there's a hardwood floor
And the sound of laughter runnin' out the door
Wall to wall women plenty of ice-cold beer
And thing you're after you can find it here
Two miles from town 'cross the railroad track
Turn right at the light and park in the back
You're always welcome don't forget to drop in
Old Charley done time two years in the pen
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I came up, there was room for the new and the old. For every new artist, an old one didn't have to be pushed out.
quote by Charley Pride
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Nobody should hit .200. Anybody should hit .250.
quote by Charley Lau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Doughboy's Horace
Horace: Book III, Ode 9
"Donec eram gratus tibi--"
HORACE, PVT. --TH INFANTRY, A.E.F., WRITES:
While I was fussing you at home
You put the notion in my dome
That I was the Molasses Kid.
I batted strong. I'll say I did.
LYDIA, ANYBURG U.S.A., WRITES:
While you were fussing me alone
To other boys my heart was stone.
When I was all that you could see
No girl had anything on me.
HORACE:
Well, say, I'm having some romance
With one Babette, of Northern France.
If that girl gave me the command
I'd dance a jig in No-Man's Land.
LYDIA:
I, too, have got a young affair
With Charley--say, that boy is there!
I'd just as soon go out and die
If I thought it'd please that guy
HORACE:
Suppose I can this foreign wren
And start things up with you again?
Suppose I promise to be good?
I'd love you Lyd. I'll say I would.
LYDIA:
Though Charley's good and handsome--oh, boy!
And you're a stormy fickle doughboy,
So give the Hun his final whack,
And I'll marry you when you come back.
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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Harry (Engaged To Be Married) To Charley (Who Is Not)
To all my fond rhapsodies, Charley,
You have wearily listened, I fear;
As yet not an answer you’ve given
Save a shrug, or an ill-concealed sneer;
Pray, why, when I talk of my marriage,
Do you watch me with sorrowing eye?
’Tis you, hapless bachelor, Charley,
That are to be pitied—not I!
You mockingly ask me to tell you,
Since to bondage I soon must be sold,
Have I wisely chosen my fetters,
Which, at least, should be forged of pure gold.
Hem! the sole wealth my love possesses
Are her tresses of bright golden hair,
Pearly teeth, lips of rosiest coral,
Eyes I know not with what to compare.
Don’t talk about all I surrender—
My club, champagne dinners, cigars,
My hand at écarté, my harmless
Flirtations with Opera “stars.”
Think of the pleasant home, Charley—
Home! I utter the word with just pride—
Its music, soft lights, countless comforts,
Over which she will smiling preside.
And picture in fancy the welcome
That will greet my arrival each night!
How she’ll help me to take off my wrappings
With her dear little fingers so white;
The sweet silvery voice that will utter
The airiest nothings with grace,
The smiles that will dimple all over
That loving and lovely young face.
If sickness should ever o’ertake me,
O! just think how cherished I’ll be—
What loving cares, gentle caresses,
Shall be showered on fortunate me;
While you in some lone, gloomy attic,
To dull death posting off at quick pace,
Will encounter no tokens of pity
Save the smirk on some pert waiter’s face.
And who, perhaps, twelve hours after,
Bringing up your weak tea and dry toast,
Will look in, find you “gone,” and drawl forth,
“Number ten has just given up the ghost.”
Then, Charley, to good counsel listen,
Brave not an old bachelor’s fate,
But, doing as I’ve done, go marry
A loving and loveable mate.
poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
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A fan will grab you and hug you and will not let go. When that happens, you wish it could be that way all over the world.
quote by Charley Pride
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Once your name becomes well known, politicians come courting.
quote by Charley Pride
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There are worse things than being thought a Republican.
quote by Charley Pride
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I think there's enough room in country music for everybody.
quote by Charley Pride
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There are two theories on hitting the knuckleball. Unfortunately, neither of them works.
quote by Charley Lau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I've tried to help a lot of young artists get started.
quote by Charley Pride
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Fans are what make a performer and I've always taken them seriously.
quote by Charley Pride
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In 20 years I had sold more records for RCA than any artist except Elvis Presley.
quote by Charley Pride
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Performing is an experience, for me, that is as humbling as it is energizing.
quote by Charley Pride
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I grew up not liking my father very much. I never saw him cry. But he must have. Everybody cries.
quote by Charley Pride
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It's Charley's Aunt and The Odd Couple rolled into one.
quote by Allan Carr
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