The Eagle’s Second Cousin
He strides the stage in gartered bands,
Close to his Lady, he expands,
yet soon to earth with bump he lands.
A sea of sound surrounds the stalls
He hearkens - though each hiss appalls -
And takes a bow to harsh cat-calls!
27 December 1995
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Eagle
He grasps red flag with crookèd hands,
ring’d by a freer world disbands,
the sickly sickle’s final lands.
The starving masses plight appalls,
while he, within the Kremlin walls
their doom prepares - before he falls.
17 December 1991
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Succumbing To His Charms
Being an ardent follower of dances, romances,
things of the night - as long as I return to the
comforting arms of my beloved afterwards - I
realised that an English actress who plays My
Fair Lady then ends up in the embrace of a
Russian dancer as she strides a chair in a wild
tango while looking like Audrey Hepburn herself
and the Russian dancer then has to disentangle
himself from his American wife -
Should prepare for possible disappointment as
the Russian who left his American wife without
much ado will probably leave his Audrey Hepburn
lookalike for the next beautiful lady who takes to
the stage on Strictly Come Dancing firmly clasped
in his arms while succumbing to his charms - or
vice versa - point is, when a radiant young lady
takes the fancy of a married man, odds are high
the next more radiant lady
Will have the same effect on him, and I smile at my
beloved who never goes to a dance, content
to be true to me only
poem by Margaret Alice Second
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Penny Wise?
Woman is a paradox,
maid man, unmade-up, shocks:
first fair, then jet, straight, curly locks
preferring, spends her pounds
in losing pounds and thus she mocks
her wai(s) t on earth - weight grounds
high hopes for lightness - Goldilocks,
spends cents sans sense, from birth to box -
like men who her pet mirth are found,
both sage and jester, light, profound -
lies soon, sighs, swoons, earth bound.
2 December 1995 revised 18 July 2007
robi03_0794_robi03_0000 WXX_DJX
for previous version see below
Penny Wise?
Woman is a paradox,
She heights and depths both plumbs;
who golden here, there curly locks
prefers, who spends her pounds
in losing pounds and thus she mocks
her wai[s]t on earth - weight grounds
high hopes for lightness - Goldilocks
lies soon, sighs, swoons, earth bound.
2 December 1995
© Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Eagle Eyed Croupier - Parody Alfred TENNYSON – The Eagle
He spins cooked wheel with crookèd hands,
close[d]) to true sum in sunny lands,
ring’d by a green baize world, he stands.
“Les jeux sonts faits…! ” he often calls,
wry, watches stakes increase till falls
Fate's rich ball, stalled, which naught recalls.
for previous version see below
The Eagle Eyed Croupier - Parody Alfred TENNYSON – The Eagle
He spins the wheel with crookèd hands,
close to the sum in sunny lands,
ring’d with a verdant world, he stands.
“Les jeux sonts faits…! ” he often calls,
he watches stakes mount up till falls
the ball of Fate which naught recalls.
17 December 1991
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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(Go To) California
Blonde haired baby standing by the road
A pistol in her hand and talking on the phone
Said go to California (go to California)
Go to California (go to California)
Sidewalk gazing diamonds in the sky
Silent movie Gods are flashing in your eye
Said go to California (go to California)
Go to California (go to California)
Get up get out
Get inside the outside
Get up get out get in
Get up get out
Get inside the outside
Get up get out get in
Lon Chaney calling
Spelling out your name
Where everybody's different
But they're all the same
Yeah go to California (go to California)
Go to California (go to California)
You are perfect you are insane
We love to watch you break from the pain
Yeah go to California (go to California)
Go to California (go to California)
Get up get out
Get inside the outside
Get up get out get in
Get up get out
Get inside the outside
Get up get out get in
Bump and grind
Bump and grind
Bump and grind
Bump and grind
Bump and grind
Bump and grind
Hit the lights and
Strip down on the floor
Everybody hates you
But they want some more
Yeah go to California (go to California)
Go to California (go to California)
Get up get out
Get inside the outside
Get up get out get in
Get up get out
Get inside the outside
Get up get out get in
Bump and grind
Bump and grind
Bump and grind
Go to California
Bump and grind
Bump and grind
Bump and grind
Go to California
song performed by by Rob Zombie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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California
Blonde haired baby standing by the road
A pistol in her hand and talking on the phone
Said go to california (go to california)
Go to california (go to california)
Sidewalk gazing diamonds in the sky
Silent movie gods are flashing in your eye
Said go to california (go to california)
Go to california (go to california)
Get up get out
Get inside the outside
Get up get out get in
Get up get out
Get inside the outside
Get up get out get in
Lon chaney calling
Spelling out your name
Where everybody's different
But they're all the same
Yeah go to california (go to california)
Go to california (go to california)
You are perfect you are insane
We love to watch you break from the pain
Yeah go to california (go to california)
Go to california (go to california)
Get up get out
Get inside the outside
Get up get out get in
Get up get out
Get inside the outside
Get up get out get in
Bump and grind
Bump and grind
Bump and grind
Bump and grind
Bump and grind
Bump and grind
Hit the lights and
Strip down on the floor
Everybody hates you
But they want some more
Yeah go to california (go to california)
Go to california (go to california)
Get up get out
Get inside the outside
Get up get out get in
Get up get out
Get inside the outside
Get up get out get in
Bump and grind
Bump and grind
Bump and grind
Go to california
Bump and grind
Bump and grind
Bump and grind
Go to california
song performed by by Rob Zombie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All You Wanna Do Is Bump
All you wanna do,
Is bump bump.
We don't even talk,
But bump bump.
Morning-noon-and-night-time-too
We bump bump.
Bump bump.
All you wanna do,
Is bump bump.
We don't even talk,
But bump bump.
Morning-noon-and-night-time-too
We bump bump.
Bump bump.
Peace...
Bump bump.
Is hard to find...
Go bump bump.
When on your mind...
Bump bump.
Is thumpin' on someone's rump!
Said, peace...
Bump bump
Is hard to find...
Go bump bump.
When on your mind...
Bump bump.
Is thumpin' on someone's rump!
All you wanna do,
Is bump bump.
We don't even talk,
But bump bump.
Morning-noon-and-night-time-too
We bump bump.
Bump bump.
All you wanna do,
Is bump bump.
We don't even talk,
But bump bump.
Morning-noon-and-night-time-too
We bump bump.
Bump bump.
All you wanna do,
Is bump bump.
We don't even talk,
But bump bump.
Morning-noon-and-night-time-too
We bump bump.
Bump bump.
All you wanna do,
Is bump bump.
Bump!
The rump!
All you wanna do,
Is bump bump.
Bump!
The rump!
All you wanna do,
Is bump bump.
We don't even talk,
But bump bump.
Morning-noon-and-night-time-too
We bump bump.
Bump bump.
All you wanna do,
Is bump bump.
Bump!
The rump!
Morning-noon-and-night-time-too,
We bump bump.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sun And Rain And Seed
The distance calls.
Hedges and dry stone walls
On hillsides, flocks of sheep.
Rough cliffs high, valleys deep.
One stretched out patchwork quilt,
Time formed, from rocks and silt.
Our planet’s richness shown,
Under the sky’s ozone.
The distance calls.
Even through heavy squalls,
The wind, the trees reshape,
Mists falling like a cape.
Weathered timber barns,
Mountains, vales and tarns.
All grace this pleasant earth,
Prized beauty of such worth.
The distance calls.
Swift rivers, waterfalls
All senses become sharp.
The salmon, trout and carp,
Swim silently and glide,
Not easily espied.
These lands are fertile still,
With stream, with brook, with rill.
The distance calls.
Hear cows in cattle stalls.
Across the loose blown hay,
Their bellows drift away,
Fields grassed, look rich and green,
The air is fresh and clean.
And nature’s cleansed anew.
Space for every hue,
For what more does one need,
Just sun and rain and seed.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Get Off The Stage
Oh, you silly old man
You silly old man
Youre making a fool of yourself
So get off the stage
You silly old man
In your misguided trousers
With your mascara and your fender guitar
And you think you can arouse us ?
But the song that you just sang
It sounds exactly like the last one
And the next one
I bet you it will sound
Like this one
Downstage, and offstage
Dont you feel all run in ?
And do you wonder when they will take it away ?
This is your final fling
But then applause ran high
But for the patience of the ones behind you
As a verse drags on like a month drags on
Its very short, but it seems very long
And the song that you just sang
It sounds exactly like the last one
And the next one
I bet you it will sound
Like this one
So, get off the stage
Oh, get off the stage
And when we get down off of the stage
Please stay off the stage - all day !
Get off the stage
Oh, get off the stage
And when weve had our money back
Then Id like your back in plaster
Oh, I know that you say
How age has no meaning
Oh, but here is your audience now
And theyre screaming :
Get off the stage
Oh, get off the stage
Because Ive given you enough of my time
And the money that wasnt even mine
Have you seen yourself recently ?
Oh, get off the stage
Oh, get off the stage
For whom, oh ...
For whom, oh ...
For whom, oh ...
For whom, oh ...
Get off the stage
Get off the stage
Get off the stage
For whom the bell tolls
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Étude Réaliste (excerpts)
A baby's hands, like rosebuds furled
Whence yet no leaf expands,
Ope if you touch, though close upcurled,
A baby's hands.
Then, fast as warriors grip their brands
When battle's bolt is hurled,
They close, clenched hard like tightening bands.
No rosebuds yet by dawn impearled
Match, even in loveliest lands,
The sweetest flowers in all the world--
A baby's hands.
III
A baby's eyes, ere speech begin,
Ere lips learn words or sighs,
Bless all things bright enough to win
A baby's eyes.
Love, while the sweet thing laughs and lies,
And sleep flows out and in,
Sees perfect in them Paradise.
Their glance might cast out pain and sin,
Their speech make dumb the wise,
By mute glad godhead felt within
A baby's eyes.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dear father,
Dear father of mine,
silly father,
loved father,
I miss you so. I miss the way you would make me laugh,
I miss hugging you and hearing your hart beat bump,
bump, bump bump,
bump, bump.
I miss seeing you If you only
new that I love you but waiting
for your love back.
poem by Melissa Schreuder
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It makes sense
When controversy surrounds
and things blow out of proportion
remember,
that tranquility still makes sense
When tension surrounds
and mind gets exhausted
remember,
that patience still makes sense
When mystery surrounds
and logic takes a backseat
remember,
that reality still makes sense
When laughter surrounds
and the vox gets too loud
remember,
that silence still makes sense
When darkness surrounds
and the heart gets out of rhythm
remember,
that hope still makes sense
poem by Deependra Kumar Jha
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Lust of the Eyes
I care not for my Lady’s soul
Though I worship before her smile;
I care not where be my Lady’s goal
When her beauty shall lose its wile.
Low sit I down at my Lady’s feet
Gazing through her wild eyes
Smiling to think how my love will fleet
When their starlike beauty dies.
I care not if my Lady pray
To our Father which is in Heaven
But for joy my heart’s quick pulses play
For to me her love is given.
Then who shall close my Lady’s eyes
And who shall fold her hands?
Will any hearken if she cries
Up to the unknown lands?
poem by Elizabeth Eleanor Siddal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lady & The Doctor
The lady keeps the doctor in a place inside her pocket
The circle made her circle like a wheel
The doctor gives a strange love, but the lady she dont knock it
Shes glad to get a piece of anything
Because the lady needs the medicine ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
Doctor needs the lady to see
The doctor keeps the lady in a page in a book
On the history of communicable diseases
The ladys been to school, she lets the doctor play it cool.
He writes the script, she follows his lead.
cause the doctor writes love story so fine
The ladys learned to read between the lines
Sometime
The doctor, he takes housecalls where he visits the animals
In their stalls, shoots them full of juice and then goes home.
The lady hits the supermarket where she rides the aisles in a shopping cart
till she feels shes played enough of the part to set by ooh,
The lady feels its enough to just be good.
But the doctor has his need to be understood.
The doctor feels hes so abused and the lady feels shes so unused
And demands the doctor tends her daily parts.
Ooh, but the doctor just cant do it because so long ago the lady
Blew it, theyre too old now to make another start.
The lady feels the doctors made of stone.
The doctor heart, it just aint fond of ? home?
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sound is One
The sound is one
The word is one
Sound and Word are one
Word and Sound are one
Each Sound has its own Word
And each Word
Has its own Sound,
If you know the Sound,
You know the Word
If you know one
You know the other…
Knowing is one
The knower is one,
To know is one, one knows,
One speaks and
One's Word calls one's Sound
The Sound calls the Word
And there is no answer but ONE…
©All Rights Reserved-2009
poem by Romeo Della Valle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Wanna Be Where The Bands Are
I hear the guitars ringing out there
Ringing out down union street
I hear the lead singer shouting out yeah
And I wanna be a slave to the beat
And tonight I wanna break my chains
Somebody break my heart
Somebody shake my brains
Downtown theyre singing what I wanna hear
Its the sound little girl thats ringing in my ear
I wanna be where the bands are
I wanna be where the bands are
Where the bands are
I wanna be where the bands are
Get off from work and I grab something to eat
I turn the corner and I drive down your street
Little gray houses, mama, looks like nowhere
But hey I know youre hiding in there
Come on out for just a little while
You know that heart of stone
Girl it just aint your style
Tonight I want to feel, feel the crowd
And when I tell you that I love you
I wanna shout it out loud
Shout it out loud
Shout it out loud
I wanna be where the bands are
I wanna be where the bands are
Where the bands are
I wanna be where the bands are
I.....wanna.....be
Where the bands are
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Centre Stage
There were times when I was young
I wanted to be centre stage,
the one everyone screamed to for more
whenever I sang my song.
As the years progressed
and I could see it wasn’t going to happen,
I grew content to sit in the stalls
and watch someone else take the applause.
I realized that centre stage
wasn’t where I wanted to be
and that I could entertain
just by being me.
I did not need a spotlight
to show the sparkle in my eyes.
I did not need to dress up
to be someone I wasn’t,
I didn’t need a centre stage,
I only need to be me.
I didn’t need glitz and glamour,
just an opportunity to give others pleasure
from any talent that I had.
I didn’t need the centre stage,
but just a means of escape
and just be ordinary me.
20 March 2010
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Résumé I, II - Parody Dorothy Parker - Résumé
Ties restrain you,
flies handicap,
laces strain you -
so cut the crap!
To the wind fall
mouldy socks,
free, unpinned, all
chastity locks.
Cotton, plastic
polymers spun,
and elastic, -
all undone.
Brand names flutter
spuriously
to the gutter
falling free...
© Jonathan Robin - Parody Dorothy PARKER – Résumé written 1 December 1995
Résumé II - Carry on Captains Courageous...
Key Iraqis go to bat
for Sadam in khaki hat,
Rabbis Rabin shoot to kill -
Judah’s stab in back boots ill.
Istambul bears Turkey pies,
curds way, paring budgets high.
Hutu-Tutsi’s united states
to new chaos disintegrates.
Russia’s booming, Soviet
sees end looming so Viet
sends for G.I.’s and their aids, -
good and bad guys lost on raids.
Bosno, Croat manipulate
bombs to throw at Serbian state,
Montenegro NATO mauls, -
white and negro answer calls.
Tino Craxi brought to book,
all too lax he powder took.
Berlusconi followed on
Mafia’s crony, - bribes are buon.
Charles, Camilla, paint the town,
crown, Diana, tumble down.
From the workers Chirac calls
perks and shirkers ere he falls...
© Jonathan Robin - Parody Dorothy PARKER – Résumé written 1 December 1995
Résumé
Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren’t lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.
Dorothy PARKER 1893_1967
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Girlfriend Is Better
I . . . who took the money?
Who took the money away?
I . . . its always showtime
Here at the edge of the stage
I, i, i, wake up and wonder
What was the place, what was the name?
We wanna wait, but here we go again...
I . . . takes over slowly
But doesnt last very long
I . . . no need to worry
Evrythings under control
O - u - t but no hard feelings
What do you know? take you away
Were being taken for a ride again
I got a girlfriend thats better than that
She has the smoke in her eyes
Shes moving up, going right through my house
Shes ginna give me surprise
Better than this, know that its right
I think you can if you like
I git a girlfriend with bows in her hair
And nothing is better than that
Down, down in the basement
We hear the sound of machines
I, i, Im driving in circles
Come to my senses sometimes
Why, why, why, why start it over?
Nothing was lost, everthings free
I dont care how impossible it seems
Somebody calls you but you cannot hear
Get closer to be far away
Only one look and thats all that we need
Maybe thats all that it takes
All that it takes, all that it takes
All that it takes, all that it takes
I got a girlfriend thats betther than that
And she goes wherever she likes. (there she goes...)
I got a girlfriend thats better than that
Now everyones getting involved
Shes moving up going right through my heart
We might not ever get caught
Going right through (try to stay cool) going through, staying cool
I got a girlfriend thats better than that
And nothing is better than you
I got a girlfriend thats better that this
And you dont remember at all
As we get older and stop making sense
You wont find her waiting long
Stop making sense, stop making sense...stop making sense, making sense
I got a girlfriend thats better than that
And nothing is better that this
( is it? )
song performed by by Talking Heads
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If all the world is a stage and life is just a play upon it, get me two seats in the stalls.