There once was a man from Quebec
Who's chickens had no need to peck;
A lady named Betty
Hand fed them spaghetti
As they lay on their backs on the deck.
quote by by John Carter Brown
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Related quotes
Zackariah May
I'll tell you a sad story-Of a man named Zackariah May-He fell in love with a beautiful girl-Her name was Betty Ann Gray-Right away they atarted dating-But Zackariah didn't know-Betty Ann had a secret-She also had another beau-Zackariah heard from a friend-That Betty was cheating on him-When Zackaraih asked her about it-She said it's true his name is Jim-Zackariah told Betty Goodbye-The news she heard next day-A young drown in the river-His name was Zackariah May.
poem by Joy Thacker
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What Is Natural Is Best
i built a chicken house
but the chickens still prefer
to roost
on the branches of the
kamuning tree
last night it rained so hard
the chickens are silent
all wet they
peck on grains scattered
on muddy ground
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black Betty
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
She's from birmingham (bam-ba-lam)
Way down in alabam' (bam-ba-lam)
Well, she's shakin' that thing (bam-ba-lam)
Boy, she makes me sing (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty bam-ba-lam
She really gets me high (bam-ba-lam)
You know that's no lie (bam-ba-lam)
She's so rock steady (bam-ba-lam)
And she's always ready (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
oh, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
oh, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
Black betty had a child (bam-ba-lam)
and she swears it's mine (bam-ba-lam)
she must be outta mind (bam-ba-lam)
she must think im blind (bam-ba-lam)
oh, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
oh, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
oh, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
oh, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
monday she got me arrested.
on tuesday up in chain.
on wednesday my trial was tested.
thursday she posted my bail.
friday we went walking.
saturday i out my door.
on sunday we was talking,
back on monday she pawned all my cloths.
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
She's from birmingham (bam-ba-lam)
Way down in alabam' (bam-ba-lam)
Well, she's shakin' that thing (bam-ba-lam)
Boy, she makes me sing (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty )bam-ba-lam)
She really gets me high (bam-ba-lam)
You know that's no lie (bam-ba-lam)
She's so rock steady (bam-ba-lam)
And she's always ready (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Loui’s Bark
In Cincinnati in the winter freezing cold,
Betty and her son would be brave and very bold.
They would venture out and find a little guy,
The smallest Yorkie puppy with love in his eyes.
Yes, a little Yorkie that was small but not afraid,
Betty named him Loui after a song her son played.
Yes, Loui is a sweet pup, but also has a bark,
he protects Betty as they walk in the dark.
He is very protective and watches with his keen eyes,
He’s not afraid of nobody while watching Betty’s side.
Especially at City Place where people are about,
He is quick to bark while checking them out.
Loui the little Yorkie needs to know,
if stranger passing by are a friend or a foe.
So remember Loui who’s bark
is smaller than his bite,
He will protect Betty day or night.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on September 17,2011
www.christinasunrise.com www.purplepoems.com
www.suzaechevalier.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mahr
Check, speck, Beck, deck, peck, neck;
With the small axe in your hand to cut down the big tree!
But, i am Mahr in the land of your muse watching you;
For, it is better to keep the trees than destroying them.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Loui's Bark
In Cincinnati in the winter freezing cold,
Betty and her son would be brave and very bold.
They would venture out and find a little guy,
The smallest Yorkie puppy with love in his eyes.
Yes, a little Yorkie that was small but not afraid,
Betty named him Loui after a song her son played.
Yes, Loui is a sweet pup, but also has a bark,
he protects Betty as they walk in the dark.
He is very protective and watches with his keen eyes,
He's not afraid of nobody while watching Betty's side.
Especially at City Place where people are about,
He is quick to bark while checking them out.
Loui the little Yorkie needs to know,
if stranger passing by are a friend or a foe.
So remember Loui who's bark
is smaller than his bite,
He will protect Betty day or night.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on September 17,2011
www.suzae.com www.suechevalier.com
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Last Night I Dreamed of Chickens
Last night I dreamed of chickens,
there were chickens everywhere,
they were standing on my stomach,
they were nesting in my hair,
they were pecking at my pillow,
they were hopping on my head,
they were ruffling up their feathers
as they raced about my bed.
They were on the chairs and tables,
they were on the chandeliers,
they were roosting in the corners,
they were clucking in my ears,
there were chickens, chickens, chickens
for as far as I could see...
when I woke today, I noticed
there were eggs on top of me.
poem by Jack Prelutsky
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The World Of Either Or
you cannot have the best of
both worlds
when you have all those chickens
you have to sacrifice your flowers
these chickens eat flowers for breakfast
on the other hand
when you keep those flowers
you must first kill all the chickens
as i once told you, this is the world
of
either or
not both
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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More Referendums Aug 23rd,2012
Quebec separatists are not foreigners; they're us,
They want a referendum to cause Ottawa a great fuss,
We ourselves should also have a referendum and maybe two,
Binding referendums and Death with Dignity are overdue.
Ottawa trying to buy Quebec with equalization money,
Hidden in some government program and not very funny,
We all should be delighted to partake in two referendums soon,
National referendums interfering in their Quebec cocoon.
Our problem is not Quebec separatists but we ourselves,
Without referendums; we're like stuff forgotten on old shelves,
Two referendums with the separatists; means common ground for all,
Do more for Canada than Ottawa aristocrats, not on call.
poem by James Bredin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Betty My Friend
Betty with her deep brown eyes,
is a sweetheart that can sympathize.
She is a believer in my creativity,
she gives me feedback with dignity
Betty encourages me to protect myself,
she knows I am a creator like no one else.
Betty is a great parent and a kind soul,
she takes her son Loui wherever she goes.
She gives him treats for he is a good boy,
burgers from McDonalds, but no plastic toy.
Betty even made sure I was feed,
she bought a cheeseburger before she went to bed.
Betty really loves my artwork and my books,
she is amazed and knows what they are worth.
Thank you Betty for believing in me,
I bless you and your son Little Loui.
Written By Suzae Chevalier on February 11,2012
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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A Tailor who sailed from Quebec,
In a storm ventur'd once upon deck,
But the waves of the sea,
Were as strong as could be,
And he tumbled in up to his neck.
by John Marshall from Anecdotes and Adventures of Fifteen Gentlemen (1821)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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There was a small boy of Quebec
Who was buried in snow to his neck.
When they asked, "Are you friz?"
He replied, "Yes, I is —
But we don't call this cold in Quebec!"
quote by by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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There was an Ol Man of Quebec,
A beetle ran over his neck;
But he cried, 'With a needle,
I'll slay you, O beadle!'
That angry Old Man of Quebec.
by Edward Lear from A Book of Nonsense (1846)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Down To The Well
Down to the well
Betty always knows
Betty always tells
She laughing desperately
She said it felt like a river inside her bones
When she went down to the well
Gonna be with her
She is gonna take me there
Lead me by my hand
Her body a rocking chair for my soul
I can hardly wait, baby
I can hardly wait
til we go down to the well
Down to the well
Been thinking to myself
And if a lifes not long
What matter does it make
If therell be favorite songs playing in my head
When we go down to the well
I can hardly wait, betty
I can hardly wait
till we go down to the well
Down to the well
song performed by by Pixies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rainbow Spaghetti
One day mother said to me,
'What do you want to eat? '
I answered back to her,
'Rainbow spaghetti'
So my mother waited for the rain
And went outside with her boots
She grabbed the rainbow in a puddle
And walked back inside
She cooked some spaghetti
And told me to stir the rainbow
So I put the rainbow in a bowl
And stirred it with a spoon
Mother took the rainbow
And poured it over the spaghetti
She gave it to me to eat
With a fork and a spoon
I ate it
And chewed it
And slurped it
And swallowed it
'How does it taste? '
Mother asked me
I answered back to her
'It tastes like spaghetti'
poem by Tessa Marshall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Loui Is Adorable
Little Loui who is so sweet,
sits real relaxed in his new car seat.
He rides next to Betty all over town,
he barks to protect her,
his bark makes a cute sound.
Little Loui makes Betty smile as she looks
toward him sitting on the ground,
for Little Loui follows Betty all around.
A couple of times he slipped away,
but Betty got him back all O.K.
Little Loui loves to go on very long walks,
with Betty he listens to her while she talks.
Betty dresses Little Loui up in outfits cute as can be,
Little Loui looks smashing and adorable to a T.
Little Loui will play with Madison this year,
Loui is friends with Madison who is his friend so dear.
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Eggxample
What came first chickens or eggs?
Chickens of course!
Chickens have legs!
Chickens have feathers,
Eggs have a shell,
How would you like your eggs, done well?
This may be a 'yolk',
But consider it folk!
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Loui Is Adorable
Little Loui who is so sweet,
sits real relaxed in his new car seat.
He rides next to Betty all over town,
he barks to protect her,
his bark makes a cute sound.
Little Loui makes Betty smile as she looks
toward him sitting on the ground,
for Little Loui follows Betty all around.
A couple of times he slipped away,
but Betty got him back all O.K.
Little Loui loves to go on very long walks,
with Betty he listens to her while she talks.
Betty dresses Little Loui up in outfits cute as can be,
Little Loui looks smashing and dressed to the T.
Little Loui will play with Madison this year,
Little Loui and Madison are friends so dear.
Written By Suzae Chevalier on December 17,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Growing Up Before Time
You stood outside
the ABC cinema
with Helen looking
at the framed photographs
of the stills
from the film
then showing
she clutching her doll
Battered Betty
you standing there
pointing out
the main characters
my old man said
he'd take me
to see this
on Saturday
you said
Helen rocked Betty
in her arms
I hope our child
doesn't call you
old man
she said
maybe he won't
you replied
it might be a she
Helen said
sure it might
you said
you gave Betty a look
as she hung there
in Helen's arms
you looked back
at the photo stills
putting your hands
in the pockets
of your jeans
maybe
you can take me
to the cinema
when we are older
Helen said
and we can sit
at the back
like those grown ups do
and kiss
you sensed her hand
touch your arm
and rub it up
and down
Betty moving
as Helen's arm moved
sure
you said
long as I can still see
the movie
Helen handed you Betty
and you took
your hands out
of your pockets
and held her gingerly
like she might go
crap on you
and Helen put
a hand in her pocket
and pulled out
a few coins
I might have enough
here for some fries
she said
ok
you replied
and you walked
beside Helen
along the New Kent Road
to the Neptune's fish shop
holding Battered Betty
carefully against
your cowboy shirt
the one your mother
bought you
for your birthday
the year before
Helen talked
of children's names
and you thought
of the Wild West
and cowboy games.
poem by Terry Collett
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