What Smith Knew About Farming
There wasn't two purtier farms in the state
Than the couple of which I'm about to relate;--
Jinin' each other--belongin' to Brown,
And jest at the edge of a flourishin' town.
Brown was a man, as I understand,
That allus had handled a good 'eal o' land,
And was sharp as a tack in drivin' a trade--
For that's the way most of his money was made.
And all the grounds and the orchards about
His two pet farms was all tricked out
With poppies and posies
And sweet-smellin' rosies;
And hundreds o' kinds
Of all sorts o' vines,
To tickle the most horticultural minds
And little dwarf trees not as thick as your wrist
With ripe apples on 'em as big as your fist:
And peaches,--Siberian crabs and pears,
And quinces--Well! ANY fruit ANY tree bears;
And th purtiest stream--jest a-swimmin' with fish,
And--JEST O'MOST EVERYTHING HEART COULD WISH!
The purtiest orch'rds--I wish you could see
How purty they was, fer I know it 'ud be
A regular treat!--but I'll go ahead with
My story! A man by the name o' Smith--
(A bad name to rhyme,
But I reckon that I'm
Not goin' back on a Smith! nary time!)
'At hadn't a soul of kin nor kith,
And more money than he knowed what to do with,--
So he comes a-ridin' along one day,
And HE says to Brown, in his offhand way--
Who was trainin' some newfangled vines round a bay-
Winder--'Howdy-do--look-a-here--say:
W hat'll you take fer this property here?--
I'm talkin' o' leavin' the city this year,
And I want to be
Where the air is free,
And I'll BUY this place, if it ain't too dear!'--
Well--they grumbled and jawed aroun'--
'I don't like to part with the place,' says Brown;
'Well,' says Smith, a-jerkin' his head,
'That house yonder--bricks painted red--
Jest like this'n--a PURTIER VIEW--
Who is it owns it?' 'That's mine too,'
Says Brown, as he winked at a hole in his shoe,
'But I'll tell you right here jest what I KIN do:--
If you'll pay the figgers I'll sell IT to you.,'
Smith went over and looked at the place--
Badgered with Brown, and argied the case--
Thought that Brown's figgers was rather too tall,
But, findin' that Brown wasn't goin' to fall,
In final agreed,
So they drawed up the deed
Fer the farm and the fixtures--the live stock an' all.
And so Smith moved from the city as soon
As he possibly could--But 'the man in the moon'
Knowed more'n Smith o' farmin' pursuits,
And jest to convince you, and have no disputes,
How little he knowed,
I'll tell you his 'mode,'
As he called it, o' raisin' 'the best that growed,'
In the way o' potatoes--
Cucumbers--tomatoes,
And squashes as lengthy as young alligators.
'Twas allus a curious thing to me
How big a fool a feller kin be
When he gits on a farm after leavin' a town!--
Expectin' to raise himself up to renown,
And reap fer himself agricultural fame,
By growin' of squashes--WITHOUT ANY SHAME--
As useless and long as a technical name.
To make the soil pure,
And certainly sure,
He plastered the ground with patent manure.
He had cultivators, and double-hoss plows,
And patent machines fer milkin' his cows;
And patent hay-forks--patent measures and weights,
And new patent back-action hinges fer gates,
And barn locks and latches, and such little dribs,
And patents to keep the rats out o' the cribs--
Reapers and mowers,
And patent grain sowers;
And drillers
And tillers
And cucumber hillers,
And horries;--and had patent rollers and scrapers,
And took about ten agricultural papers.
So you can imagine how matters turned out:
But BROWN didn't have not a shadder o' doubt
That Smith didn't know what he was about
When he said that 'the OLD way to farm was played out.'
But Smith worked ahead,
And when any one said
That the OLD way o' workin' was better instead
O' his 'modern idees,' he allus turned red,
And wanted to know
What made people so
INFERNALLY anxious to hear theirselves crow?
And guessed that he'd manage to hoe his own row.
Brown he come onc't and leant over the fence,
And told Smith that he couldn't see any sense
In goin' to such a tremendous expense
Fer the sake o' such no-account experiments
'That'll never make corn!
As shore's you're born
It'll come out the leetlest end of the horn!'
Says Brown, as he pulled off a big roastin'-ear
From a stalk of his own
That had tribble outgrown
Smith's poor yaller shoots, and says he, 'Looky here!
THIS corn was raised in the old-fashioned way,
And I rather imagine that THIS corn'll pay
Expenses fer RAISIN' it!--What do you say?'
Brown got him then to look over his crop.--
HIS luck that season had been tip-top!
And you may surmise
Smith opened his eyes
And let out a look o' the wildest surprise
When Brown showed him punkins as big as the lies
He was stuffin' him with--about offers he's had
Fer his farm: 'I don't want to sell very bad,'
He says, but says he,
'Mr. Smith, you kin see
Fer yourself how matters is standin' with me,
I UNDERSTAND FARMIN' and I'd better stay,
You know, on my farm;--I'm a-makin' it pay--
I oughtn't to grumble!--I reckon I'll clear
Away over four thousand dollars this year.'
And that was the reason, he made it appear,
Why he didn't care about sellin' his farm,
And hinted at his havin' done himself harm
In sellin' the other, and wanted to know
If Smith wouldn't sell back ag'in to him.--So
Smith took the bait, and says he, 'Mr. Brown,
I wouldn't SELL out but we might swap aroun'--
How'll you trade your place fer mine?'
(Purty sharp way o' comin' the shine
Over Smith! Wasn't it?) Well, sir, this Brown
Played out his hand and brought Smithy down--
Traded with him an', workin' it cute,
Raked in two thousand dollars to boot
As slick as a whistle, an' that wasn't all,--
He managed to trade back ag'in the next fall,--
And the next--and the next--as long as Smith stayed
He reaped with his harvests an annual trade.--
Why, I reckon that Brown must 'a' easily made--
On an AVERAGE--nearly two thousand a year--
Together he made over seven thousand--clear.--
Till Mr. Smith found he was losin' his health
In as big a proportion, almost, as his wealth;
So at last he concluded to move back to town,
And sold back his farm to this same Mr. Brown
At very low figgers, by gittin' it down.
Further'n this I have nothin' to say
Than merely advisin' the Smiths fer to stay
In their grocery stores in flourishin' towns
And leave agriculture alone--and the Browns.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Brown Paper Bag
Brown paper bag
Squalid incomplete
slumped to the side of the street
Like unwanted sacks of garbage
She left her track her smell
And like the brown paper bag
She had travelled well
She had a whole world in her head
Her first love
The man she wed
And the drink and the smoke
And the four o clock bloke
That returned with a bottle in a brown paper bag
And better days before
When she had carried her first round fruit
When the brown paper bag was waxed new
And he carried his bride to the door
Then the four o clock bloke
Full of stale wine and stale smoke
With a bottle in a brown paper bag
How he called her a hag
And that first punch to the floor
And the brown paper bags fell by her side
Crumpled and stained
And the liquor cans and the four o clock man
Who never spoke
Left her broke
Bones shattered in pieces
Flesh bare to the wind
Body out on the street
Skin tanned dirt brown
Hair matted locks
And two brown paper bags tied with string to her feet
yvette m smith 11.2.09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Not a Magician
Give me back my virginity.
I've changed my mind,
I want it back!
You are no soul mate to me.
You tricked me into giving it up.
And I thought forever we would be.
But as soon as we were through...
You told me you had others to do!
That's nasty.
Give me back my virginity.
I want to search for someone else,
My virginity will please.
Someone who's not so quick...
To strip and get it over with.
Someone who likes it fresh.
And tells me I'm the best.
Someone who moans and sighs,
When in between my...
'Mrs. Brown?
MRS. BROWN! ? '
Yes?
Oh...
Yes, Doctor Smith.
'I can help you stop smoking if you wish.
It seems as though you have regressed.
Your issues with sex,
Must be discussed at other scheduled sessions! '
EXCUSE ME?
'I am a hypnotist, Mrs. Brown.
Not a magician!
I don't have those kinds of powers!
Not at these hourly rates! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Book Agent Story
As we have given several humorous Scottish stories in verse we will venture to
trespass on your good nature by giving an American specimen. The scene is laid
in the suburbs of New York. It was a prose tale, and we fancy we have not
diminished the height, breadth or depth of the humour by grinding it in our
poetical mill and having it flow out in rhyme.
There is a man, his name is Brown,
He lives in a suburban town
And has an office in the city,
His misfortunes you will pity.
His mind it was on stocks and change,
He cared not for things new or strange ;
But agent managed him to hook
And sold to him a costly book.
Brown cared not for those glorious names-
Died for religion in the flames;
Now he felt agent was a Tartar
For selling him a book of martyr.
The agent knew it would make strife,
But sold another to his wife;
She did not know that Brown had bought,
And agent on her easy wrought .
Approaching her with winning smile
He poor woman did beguile.
He made her believe without a doubt
No Christian could do without
This book, which would all inspire
With spark of celestial fire,
With feelings like the first martyr
Who had died for Christian charter.
When Brown did home return at night
His wife, to add to his delight,
Resolved that she would, after tea,
Get chatting with her husband free
And tell him of fine book she bought ;
Of trouble fresh she never thought,
But she noticed a gloomy frown
On the brow of her husband Brown,
But thought when I my purchase tell
Those dark clouds they will dispel ;
She said, my dear, I bought martyr,
He looked as if he her could quarter.
And said the scoundrel sold me book ;
Out of the window then he did look
And saw the agent haste to train ;
He tried to stop him, but in vain ;
Smith then was passing in spring waggon,
And he had his trotting nag on ;
He told him to stop book agent ;
His escape for to prevent,
Smith told him Brown wanted him ;
But agent-nothing daunted him ;
Said he : He only wants to barter
With me for my book of Martyr.
If thats all, said Smith, with quick dash,
Give me his book, and here's your cash ;
Book agent jumped aboard the car,
For he knew there would be war;
Smith met Brown with triumphant look-
Said he : I have got you the book ;
Brown's feelings now no one could paint,
He there did show he was no saint ;
But to big own home he now returned,
And fierce rage in his bosom burned ;
He was not fit for Knight of Garter
When he brought in the third martyr.
poem by James McIntyre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Zero Bars (Mr. Smith)
my name is Smith
your silence is my trade
my name is Smith
here in this bar you fade out
time heals nothing
it merely rearranges our memory
in zero bars
even time no longer seems willing to try
please look around
empty faces that never quite die
don't be surprised
their bodies move by habit, look in their eyes
nothing is real
if you break down and cry they won't even stare
nobody feels
it's far too risky to admit that you care
my name is Smith
your silence is my trade
my name is Smith
here in this bar you fade out
Gary Numan, "Zero Bars (Mr. Smith)", _T_u_b_e_w_a_y _A_r_m_y (Beggars Banquet/ATCO 1978)
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ballad Of Go-go Brown
If thats why they call him go-go brown
Hed say (? )
If thats why some people put him down
Hed say it costs his name as go-go brown
All the girls in town
Used to follow him around
Go-go brown
Go-go brown
All the boys would sing
Were gonna make this go-go king
Go-go brown
Go-go brown
Go-go brown is the smartest guy by far
A brand new girlfriend and a brand new car
The girls all thought that he was heaven-sent
one day this boy will be a president
All the church bells ring
When that go-go used to sing
Go-go brown
Go-go brown
Here the people say
hes gonna be someone someday
Go-go brown
Go-go brown
Then one day some bad men came to call
And go-go knew its time to take a fall
Hes been smoking since the age of ten
He took some crack, he sold some smack
And now hes in the pen
All the girls in town
Used to follow him around
Go-go brown
Go-go brown
All the boys would sing
Were gonna make this go-go king
Go-go brown
Go-go brown
He raised them all
Yes he do
He faced the wall
Yes he did
He stood tall
Yes he do
Who did he let down
Just one man thats go-go brown (? )
All the church bells ring
When that go-go used to sing
Go-go brown
Go-go brown
Here the people say
hes gonna be someone someday
Go-go brown
Go-go brown
All the girls in town
Used to follow him around
Go-go brown
Go-go brown
All the boys would sing
Were gonna make that go-go king
Go-go brown
Go-go brown
All the girls in town
Used to follow him around
Go-go brown
Go-go brown
song performed by by Heaven 17
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thar's More In the Man Than Thar Is In The Land
I knowed a man, which he lived in Jones,
Which Jones is a county of red hills and stones,
And he lived pretty much by gittin' of loans,
And his mules was nuthin' but skin and bones,
And his hogs was flat as his corn-bread pones,
And he had 'bout a thousand acres o' land.
This man -- which his name it was also Jones --
He swore that he'd leave them old red hills and stones,
Fur he couldn't make nuthin' but yallerish cotton,
And little o' THAT, and his fences was rotten,
And what little corn he had, HIT was boughten
And dinged ef a livin' was in the land.
And the longer he swore the madder he got,
And he riz and he walked to the stable lot,
And he hollered to Tom to come thar and hitch
Fur to emigrate somewhar whar land was rich,
And to quit raisin' cock-burrs, thistles and sich,
And a wastin' ther time on the cussed land.
So him and Tom they hitched up the mules,
Pertestin' that folks was mighty big fools
That 'ud stay in Georgy ther lifetime out,
Jest scratchin' a livin' when all of 'em mought
Git places in Texas whar cotton would sprout
By the time you could plant it in the land.
And he driv by a house whar a man named Brown
Was a livin', not fur from the edge o' town,
And he bantered Brown fur to buy his place,
And said that bein' as money was skace,
And bein' as sheriffs was hard to face,
Two dollars an acre would git the land.
They closed at a dollar and fifty cents,
And Jones he bought him a waggin and tents,
And loaded his corn, and his wimmin, and truck,
And moved to Texas, which it tuck
His entire pile, with the best of luck,
To git thar and git him a little land.
But Brown moved out on the old Jones' farm,
And he rolled up his breeches and bared his arm,
And he picked all the rocks from off'n the groun',
And he rooted it up and he plowed it down,
Then he sowed his corn and his wheat in the land.
Five years glid by, and Brown, one day
(Which he'd got so fat that he wouldn't weigh),
Was a settin' down, sorter lazily,
To the bulliest dinner you ever see,
When one o' the children jumped on his knee
And says, 'Yan's Jones, which you bought his land.'
And thar was Jones, standin' out at the fence,
And he hadn't no waggin, nor mules, nor tents,
Fur he had left Texas afoot and cum
To Georgy to see if he couldn't git sum
Employment, and he was a lookin' as hum-
Ble as ef he had never owned any land.
But Brown he axed him in, and he sot
Him down to his vittles smokin' hot,
And when he had filled hisself and the floor
Brown looked at him sharp and riz and swore
That, 'whether men's land was rich or poor
Thar was more in the MAN than thar was in the LAND.'
poem by Sidney Lanier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Zero Bars
My name is smith
Your silence is my trade
My name is smith
Here in this bar you fade out
Time heals nothing
It merely rearranges our memory
In zero bars
Even time no longer seems willing to try
Please look around
Empty faces that never quite die
Don't be surprised
Their bodies move by habit, look in their eyes
Nothing is real
If you break down and cry they won't even stare
Nobody feels
It's far too risky to admit that you care
My name is smith
Your silence is my trade
My name is smith
Here in this bar you fade out
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At boarding school you had to wear your name across your chest and your back, and obviously I had a pretty funny name. It wasn't Brown or Smith or Hughes.
quote by Diane Cilento
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brown Baby
Oscar brown jr
Brown baby brown baby
As you grow up I want you to drink from the plenty cup
I want you to stand up tall and proud
And I want you to speak up clear and loud
Brown baby brown baby brown baby
As years go by I want you to go with your head up high
I want you to live by the justice code
And I want you to walk down freedoms road
You little brown baby
So lie away lie away spleeping lie away singing
Lie away sleeping lie away safe in my arms
Till your daddy and you mama protect you
? nd keep you safe from harm
Brown baby
It makes me glad you gonna have things that I never had
When out of mens heart all hate is hurled
Sweetie you gonna live in a better world
Brown baby brown baby brown baby
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bessie Smith
(r. danko and j.r. robertson)
Bessie was more than just a friend of mine
We shared the good times with the bad
Now many a year has passed me by
I still recall the best thing I ever had
Im just goin down the road t see bessie
Oh, see her soon
Goin down the road t see bessie smith
When I get there I wonder what shell do
Now all the crazy things I had to try
Well I tried them all and then some
But if youre lucky one day you find out
Where it is youre really comin from
Im just goin down the road t see bessie
Oh, see her soon
Goin down the road t see bessie smith
When I get there I wonder what shell do
Now in my day Ive made some foolish moves
But back then, I didnt worry bout a thing
And now again I still wonder to myself
Was it her sweet love or the way that she could sing
Im just goin down the road t see bessie
Oh, see her soon
Goin down the road t see bessie smith
When I get there I wonder what shell do
Theres so much time has gone right on by
I didnt think one could be so wrong
And then one night I was drinkin and a-thinkin
In the bottom of the glass I could see bessies face so strong
Im just goin down the road t see bessie
Oh, see her soon
Goin down the road t see bessie smith
When I get there I wonder what shell do
When she sees me will she know what Ive been through?
Will old times start to feelin like new?
When I get there will our love still feel so true?
Yet all I have, Ill be a-bringin it to you
Oh bessie, sing them old-time blues
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jackie Brown
Is this your life, jackie brown?
Poorly educated and forced to live on the poor side of town.
Is this your daughter, jackie brown?
This pretty little girl
In the worn out clothes
That have been hand-me down.
Is this your wife, jackie brown?
With sad blue eyes, walking on eggshells so you dont see her frown.
Is this your family, jackie brown?
Dream of vacationing on a mountain stream
And giving the world more than it gave you.
What ugly truths freedom brings
And it hasnt been very kind to you.
Is this your life, jackie brown?
Is this your meal, jackie brown?
Barely enough, Ive seen people throw away more than this out.
Is this your home, jackie brown?
This three room shack
With no running water
And the bathroom out back.
Is this your grave, jackie brown?
This little piece of limestone that says another desperate man took
Himself out.
Is this your dream, jackie brown?
Going nowhere and nowhere fast
We shame ourselves to watch people like this live.
But who gives a damn about jackie brown?
Just another lazy man who couldnt take what was his.
One helluva life jackie brown.
Forevermore, jackie brown
Amen and amen - jackie brown?
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bessie Smith
Bessie was more than a friend of mine
We shared the good times and the bad
Well many years has since passed me by
I still recall the best thing I ever had
Now I'm going down the road to see Bessie
Oh see her soon
I'm just going down the road to see Bessie Smith
When I get there I wondering what she'll do
Now all the crazy things I had to try
Well I tried them all and then some
But if you're lucky one day you will find out
Where it is that you're really coming from
Now I'm going down the road to see Bessie
Oh see her soon
I'm just going down the road to see Bessie Smith
When I get there I wondering what she'll do
Now in my day I've made some foolish moves
But back then I didn't worry about a thing
Now and again I still wonder to myself
Was it the sweet love or the way that she could sing
I'm just going down the road to see Bessie Smith
When I get there I wondering what she'll do
I'm just going down the road to see Bessie Smith
When I get there I wondering what she'll do
song performed by by Norah Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brown Eyed Handsome Man
BROWN EYED HANDSOME MAN
Arrested on charges of unemployment,
he was sitting in the witness stand
The judge's wife called up the district attorney
Said you free that brown eyed man
You want your job you better free that brown eyed man
Flying across the desert in a TWA,
I saw a woman walking across the sand
She been a-walkin' thirty miles en route to Bombay.
To get a brown eyed handsome man
Her destination was a brown eyed handsome man
Way back in history three thousand years
Back every since the world began
There's been a whole lot of good women shed a tear
For a brown eyed handsome man
That's what the trouble was brown eyed handsome man
Beautiful daughter couldn't make up her mind
Between a doctor and a lawyer man
Her mother told her daughter go out and find yourself
A brown eyed handsome man
That's what your daddy is a brown eyed handsome man
Milo Venus was a beautiful lass
She had the world in the palm of her hand
But she lost both her arms in a wrestling match
To get brown eyed handsome man
She fought and won herself a brown eyed handsome man
Two, three count with nobody on
He hit a high fly into the stand
Rounding third he was headed for home
It was a brown eyed handsome man
That won the game; it was a brown eyed handsome man
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brown Skin
Brown skin, you know I love your brown skin
I cant tell where yours begins, I cant tell where mine ends
Brown skin, up against my brown skin
Need some every now and thenoh hey
Where are your people from? maybe mississippi or an island
Apparently your skin has been kissed by the sun
You make me want a hersheys kiss, your licorice
Every time I see your lips, it makes me think of honey-coated chocolate
Your kisses are worth more than gold to me
Ill be your almond joy, youll be my sugar daddy
Brown skin, you know I love your brown skin
I cant tell where yours begins, I cant tell where mine ends
Brown skin, up against my brown skin
Need some every now and thenoh hey
Every time you come around, something magnetic pulls me and I cant get out
Disoriented, I cant tell my up from down
All I know is that I wanna lay you down
Every time I let you in, abracadabra magic happens as we swim
Higher and higher finally we reach heaven
Come back to earth and then we do it all again
Yeah..
Brown skin, you know I love your brown skin
I cant tell where yours begins, I cant tell where mine ends
Brown skin, up against my brown skin
Need some every now and thenoh hey
Skin so brown, lips so round
Baby how can I be down?
Beautiful mahogany, you make me feel like a queen
Tell me whats that thing you do that makes me wanna get next to you, yeah
Brown skin, you know I love your brown skin
I cant tell where yours begins, I cant tell where mine ends
Brown skin, up against my brown skin
Need some every now and thenoh hey
Brown skin, you know I love your brown skin
I cant tell where yours begins, I cant tell where mine ends
Brown skin, up against my brown skin
Need some every now and thenoh hey
song performed by by India Arie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bones
Said Mr. Smith, “I really cannot
Tell you, Dr. Jones—
The most peculiar pain I’m in—
I think it’s in my bones.”
Said Dr. Jones, “Oh, Mr. Smith,
That’s nothing. Without doubt
We have a simple cure for that;
It is to take them out.”
He laid forthwith poor Mr. Smith
Close-clamped upon the table,
And, cold as stone, took out his bones
As fast as he was able.
Smith said, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,”
And wished him a good-day;
And with his parcel ‘neath his arm
He slowly moved away.
poem by Walter de la Mare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little John Smith
LO, AS I WALKED PAST SMITHSONS MEADOW,
I SAW A NAKED INFANT RUN OUT OF A BARN,
HE LAUGHED AS HE RAN TOWARDS ME,
HO, WHAT BE THY NAME LAD?
AND THE YOUNG LAD REPLIED?
I AM JOHN SMITH! HE SAID AS HE RAN OFF,
THIS WAS TWENTY AND SIX YEARS AGO,
AYE, I RETURN FROM MY MANY QUESTS FROM LANDS AFAR,
AND A STRONG MALE VOICE STOPPED ME AND SAID,
WHO BE YE AND WHENCE GOEST THOU? HE ASKED
AND I SAID, AH MY GOOD MAN, I AM HARRY BOLDS OF BOLDS FARM AND I RETURN FROM MY MANY JOURNEYS AFTER TWENTY AND SIX YEARS AWAY FROM HOME, SAID I,
GOOD THEN, I AM LORD JOHN SMITH!
LORD OF THE LANDS OF SMITHSONS AND I SAY THIS TO YOU,
TELL THIS TO MY WARRIORS AS YOU PASS TROUGH THE TOWN,
THAT I, LORD SMITH HAS GRANTED YOU SAFE PASSAGE THROUGH MY LANDS FOR I KNOW OF THE BOLDS FARMS, STATED THE LAD AND HE TURNED AND WALKED OFF,
WHAT A MARVEL! TOUGHT I, LITTLE JOHN SMITH IS NOW A WARRIOR LORD AND NOW GRANTS ME SAFE PASSAGE THROUGH THIS LANDS!
IT IS WELL THEN, THE INFANT IS NOW AN ADULT,
WATCH THY STEP, LEST YOU OFFEND A LITTLE JOHN SMITH WHO MAY BE THE ONE TO GRANT YOU YOUR LIFE IN THE FUTURE!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Antichrist, or the Reunion of Christendom: An Ode
Are they clinging to their crosses,
F. E. Smith,
Where the Breton boat-fleet tosses,
Are they, Smith?
Do they, fasting, trembling, bleeding,
Wait the news from this our city?
Groaning "That's the Second Reading!"
Hissing "There is still Committee!"
If the voice of Cecil falters,
If McKenna's point has pith,
Do they tremble for their altars?
Do they, Smith?
Russian peasants round their pope
Huddled, Smith,
Hear about it all, I hope,
Don't they, Smith?
In the mountain hamlets clothing
Peaks beyond Caucasian pales,
Where Establishment means nothing
And they never heard of Wales,
Do they read it all in Hansard -
With a crib to read it with -
"Welsh Tithes: Dr. Clifford answered."
Really, Smith?
In the lands where Christians were,
F. E. Smith,
In the little lands laid bare,
Smith, O Smith!
Where the Turkish bands are busy
And the Tory name is blessed
Since they hailed the Cross of Dizzy
On the banners from the West!
Men don't think it half so hard if
Islam burns their kin and kith,
Since a curate lives in Cardiff
Saved by Smith.
It would greatly, I must own,
Soothe me, Smith!
If you left this theme alone,
Holy Smith!
For your legal cause or civil
You fight well and get your fee;
For your God or dream or devil
You will answer, not to me.
Talk about the pews and steeples
And the cash that goes therewith!
But the souls of Christian peoples...
Chuck it, Smith!
poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Brown Eyed Handsome Man
Arrested on charges of unemployment,
He was sitting in the witness stand
The judges wife called up the district attorney
Said you free that brown eyed man
You want your job you better free that brown eyed man
Flying across the desert in a twa,
I saw a woman walking across the sand
She been a walkin thirty miles en route to bombay
To get a brown eyed handsome man
Her destination was a brown eyed handsome man
Way back in history three thousand years
Back every since the world began
Theres been a whole lot of good women shed a tear
For a brown eyed handsome man
Thats what the trouble was brown eyed handsome man
Beautiful daughter couldnt make up her mind
Between a doctor and a lawyer man
Her mother told her daughter go out and find yourself
A brown eyed handsome man
Thats what your daddy is a brown eyed handsome man
Milo venus was a beautiful lass
She had the world in the palm of her hand
But she lost both her arms in a wrestling match
To get brown eyed handsome man
She fought and won herself a brown eyed handsome man
Two, three count with nobody on
He hit a high fly into the stand
Rounding third he was headed for home
It was a brown eyed handsome man
That won the game; it was a brown eyed handsome man
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh! Lisa With These Lovely Eyes
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
So please tell my soul to sympathize,
We shall cry forever in overcast skies
Lisa with the dark brown eyes,
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
Heartbroken heart spoken, not taken back
To change a mind so is lifes dream
Lisa with the dark brown eyed
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
That blends your butter scotch face insight
Smiles which brings sparkles to my mind
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
Many pre thoughts of your strays hypnotize
French, African, English culture dies
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
She dabbles her life in fiction trash
her soul with curious follies
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
Loneliness, has come far a sad. sad day
Emptiness in your mind and heart pay
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
Lisa with the dark, dark, brown eyes
You walk the world in beauty forgotten
They speak about you something forbidden
Lisa with the dark, dark, brown eyes
Lisa with the dark, dark, brown eyes
Your body your mind so whole same so
Your gave birth and I wish I could understand, understand
Lisa with the dark dark raven eyes
Lisa with the dark dark brown eyes
Curiosity is so special time flies, my sighs
Persuaded a fool to be wise, so wise how wise
Lisa with the dark dark brown eyes.
poem by Klayne Mario Burton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Was It You?
"Hullo, young Jones! with your tie so gay
And your pen behind your ear;
Will you mark my cheque in the usual way?
For I'm overdrawn, I fear."
Then you look at me in a manner bland,
As you turn your ledger's leaves,
And you hand it back with a soft white hand,
And the air of a man who grieves. . . .
"Was it you, young Jones, was it you I saw
(And I think I see you yet)
With a live bomb gripped in your grimy paw
And your face to the parapet?
With your lips asnarl and your eyes gone mad
With a fury that thrilled you through. . . .
Oh, I look at you now and I think, my lad,
Was it you, young Jones, was it you?
"Hullo, young Smith, with your well-fed look
And your coat of dapper fit,
Will you recommend me a decent book
With nothing of War in it?"
Then you smile as you polish a finger-nail,
And your eyes serenely roam,
And you suavely hand me a thrilling tale
By a man who stayed at home.
"Was it you, young Smith, was it you I saw
In the battle's storm and stench,
With a roar of rage and a wound red-raw
Leap into the reeking trench?
As you stood like a fiend on the firing-shelf
And you stabbed and hacked and slew. . . .
Oh, I look at you and I ask myself,
Was it you, young Smith, was it you?
"Hullo, old Brown, with your ruddy cheek
And your tummy's rounded swell,
Your garden's looking jolly chic
And your kiddies awf'ly well.
Then you beam at me in your cheery way
As you swing your water-can;
And you mop your brow and you blithely say:
`What about golf, old man?'
"Was it you, old Brown, was it you I saw
Like a bull-dog stick to your gun,
A cursing devil of fang and claw
When the rest were on the run?
Your eyes aflame with the battle-hate. . . .
As you sit in the family pew,
And I see you rising to pass the plate,
I ask: Old Brown, was it you?
"Was it me and you? Was it you and me?
(Is that grammar, or is it not?)
Who groveled in filth and misery,
Who gloried and groused and fought?
Which is the wrong and which is the right?
Which is the false and the true?
The man of peace or the man of fight?
Which is the ME and the YOU?"
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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