En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Kind farmer’s award
For using his windmills to
Keep his hot cows cool

haiku by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Broremann The Farmhand

Broremann, the farmer worker.

Every morning at five thirty sharp, my brother Broremann
had to milk five cows by hand bring bucket full of goodness
to the scullery where maid sifted it and in a churn it went.
He had to start milking Rose first, she was the mother cow
other cows wouldn´t give milk unless he started with her.
After milking Broremann had to clean the barn five cows
make a lot of dung; he pushed it down in a hole in the wall
it was later used to fertilize the land. My brother was proud
of his ability to milk and his hands were, firm yet gentle.
There was a problem though Rose didn´t yield as much milk
as before as she was getting elderly and the farmer sold her
to the knacker’s yard. It was a sad day and the other cows
mooed woefully. The farmer bought a new cow to take Rosa´s
place, but Broremann couldn´t milk her first, as she was new-
comer, so he started with Gerda, now the oldest cow, and milk
the new one last, thus rural peace continued in the cow shed.

poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Bringing Home The Cows

Shadows of the twilight falling
On the mountain's brow,
To each other birds are calling,
In the leafy bough.
Where the daisies are a-springing,
And the cattle bells are ringing,
Comes my Mary, gaily singing,
Bringing home the cows.

By a bush the pathway skirted,
Room for two allows.
All the cornfields are deserted,
Idle are the ploughs.
Striving for wealth's spoil and booty,
Farmer boys have finished duty,
When I meet my little beauty,
Bringing home the cows.

Tender words and kind addresses,
Most polite of bows,
Rosy cheeks and wavy tresses
Do my passions rouse

Dress so natty and so cleanly,
Air so modest and so queenly.
Oh! so haughty, yet serenely,
Bringing home the cows.

Arm-in-arm together walking,
While the cattle browse,
Earnestly together talking,
Plighting lovers' vows.
Where the daisies are a-springing,
Wedding bells will soon be ringing,
Then we'll watch our servant bringing
Mine and Mary's cows.

poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Last Of His Kind

Well I hate to say the farmer
Was the last of a dying breed
Living off the land
And taking what he needs
Don't say much for the future
When a family can't survive
I'd hate to say the farmer
Was the last of his kind.
In the struggle for parity
Not one man's voice can sound
Cause the foundation
of the conglomerate
Is firmly in the ground.
Yeah, they want to feed the world
But for power and for greed
Then they'll cut off the supply
Until they get what they need.
Well I dreamed I saw a dust bowl
Where the farmers used to live
Earth was flying through the sky
It had nothing left to give
Tractors were burning
On the Whitehouse lawn
Just woke up one morning
And the farmers all were gone
I hate to say the farmer
Was the last of a dying breed
Living off the land
And taking what he needs.
Don't say much for the future
When a family can't survive.
I'd hate to say the farmer
Was the last of his kind.
Don't say much for the future
When a family can't survive.
I'd hate to say the farmer
Was the last of his kind.

song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Farmer's Song

Well I hate to say the farmer
Was the last of a dying breed
Living off the land
And taking what he needs
Don't say much for the future
When a family can't survive
I'd hate to say the farmer
Was the last of his kind.
In the struggle for parity
Not one man's voice can sound
Cause the foundation
of the conglomerate
Is firmly in the ground.
Yeah, they want to feed the world
But for power and for greed
Then they'll cut off the supply
Until they get what they need.
Well I dreamed I saw a dust bowl
Where the farmers used to live
Earth was flying through the sky
It had nothing left to give
Tractors were burning
On the Whitehouse lawn
Just woke up one morning
And the farmers all were gone
I hate to say the farmer
Was the last of a dying breed
Living off the land
And taking what he needs.
Don't say much for the future
When a family can't survive.
I'd hate to say the farmer
Was the last of his kind.
Don't say much for the future
When a family can't survive.
I'd hate to say the farmer
Was the last of his kind.

song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Taxes On The Farmer Feeds Us All

(traditional, adapted by ry cooder)
(d) - (a) - (e)
(a) we worked through spring and winter, through (d) summer and through (a) fall
But the mortgage worked the hardest and the (e) steadiest of us all
It (a) worked on nights and sundays, it (d) worked each holiday
(e) settled down among us and it never went (a) away
The farmer comes to town with his wagon broken down
The farmer is the man who feeds us all
If you only look and see I know you will agree
That the farmer is the man who feeds us all
(a) the farmer is the man, the farmer is the man
He buys on his credit until (e) fall
Then they (a) take him by the hand
And they (d) lead him from his land
And the (e) merchant is the man who gets it (a) all
The farmer is the man, the farmer is the man
He lives on his credit until fall
With the interest rates so high
Its a wonder he dont die
But the taxes on the farmer feeds us all
Well, the banker says hes broke and the merchant stops and smoke
But they forget that its the farmer that feeds them all
It would put them to the test if the farmer took a rest
And theyd know that its the farmer that feeds them all
The farmer is the man, the farmer is the man
Lives on his credit until fall
Well, his pants are wearing thin
His condition, its a sin
cause the taxes on the farmer feeds us all

song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Last Of A Dying Breed

Well I hate to say the farmer was the last of a dying breed
Living off the land and taking what he needs
Dont say much for the future when a family cant survive
I hate to say the farmer was the last of his kind
In the struggle for parity, not one mans voice can sound
Cuz the foundation of the conglomerate is firmly in the ground
Yeah they wanna feed the world, but for power and for greed
Then theyll cut off the supply until they get what they need
Well I dreamed I saw a dustbowl where the farmers used to live
Earth was flying thru the sky, it had nothing left to give
Tractors were burning on the white house lawn
Just woke up one morning and the farmers all were gone
Well I hate to say the farmer was the last of a dying breed
Living off the land and taking what he needs
Dont say much for the future when a family cant survive
I hate to say the farmer was the last of his kind
Dont say much for the future when a family cant survive
I hate to say the farmer was the last of his kind

song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

The Perfect Kind of Day

It was the perfect kind of day
As I went for a little ride
Just me out with nature
Taking everything in stride

So relaxing to see the cows
Out in the fields so fresh and green
There is nothing more calming
That I have ever seen

I stopped and got out
Of my car so I could see
The cows right up close
They were fascinated with me

I was in no hurry though
Nothing else that I had to do
Enjoying this time I spent
And I’ll bet you’d enjoy it too

And then I climbed back
In my car and sped away
It truly was enjoyable
The perfect kind of day!

poem by Marilyn Lott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Western Ecstasy

There is nothing like the western life
It’s truly a dream come true
So comfortable and peaceful
It’s a quiet that beckons to you

Under the azure skies above
Out on the open prairies
No hustle and bustle of city life
Western ecstasy it truly carries

Windmills dot the landscape
The whirling adds to the calm
Wonderful red barns ‘long side
Creates their own kind of charm

Corrals you’ll see as you drive by
Vacant now, no cows in sight
Sage brush with the musky smell
Coyotes howl in the black of night!

poem by Marilyn Lott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Two cows deconstruct Derrida

These two cows were ruminating
and one says, I was listening
to the milkmaid’s transistor

and this French philosopher
was explaining that there’s
no English translation of the French word
‘betise’ except ‘stupidity’ but

‘stupidity’ only refers to man
where the French ‘betise’ means
to behave like an animal…

and the other cow says
well what’s wrong with that

and the first cow says
well his point is, English cows
can’t be stupid; only man
can be stupid..

and the other cow says
well that’s a relief then
so does that mean that French cows
can be stupid

and the first cow says
no because they don’t have a word for it
in French

so the other cow says
so then is it better to be
an English cow
that can’t be stupid
or a French cow
that can’t be called stupid

and the first cow says
who cares, I’ve always said
the French ruminate too much
and then talk bullshit…

and the other cow says
I’m glad I’m a Jersey

what about that French milkmaid
I call sexyhands but
the farmer sometimes calls
a silly cow I wonder what
Derrida would say about that

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

When I was a kid, my step dad started this business and would go out and get lost cows and stuff. He was part-time truck driver, farmer and cowboy. He taught me how to ride from an early age.

quote by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Farmer's Daughter

I do come from miles away,
Ain't got no place to stay.
Glad to help you plow your fields,
Farmer's daughter.
Might be just a couple of days,
Clean up, rest, and be on my way.
Thank you, madam, much obliged,
Farmer's daughter.
So long, got to leave your land.
Many thanks, it was might grand.
I do hope to see you again,
Farmer's Daughter.
Farmer's Daughter.

song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Let the scoundrels return

Like a lightning bolt
coming out of a blue sky
there are bombs falling
in a field where maze
stand green and ripe in neat rows
and craters are left and the field is on fire.

A few more bombs fall exploding
between cattle grazing in the field
and some are blasted to pieces
and the cows in terror forget about their milk.

The farmer is woken from his afternoon nap
and grabs his hunting rifle.
“We hit the wrong target”
the flight leader confirms
and the farmer waits with a gun in hand
on the planes to return and says:
“let the scoundress return.”

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Flanders

Flanders, the name of a place, a country of people,
Spells itself with letters, is written in books.

"Where is Flanders?" was asked one time,
Flanders known only to those who lived there
And milked cows and made cheese and spoke the home language.

"Where is Flanders?" was asked.
And the slang adepts shot the reply: Search me.

A few thousand people milking cows, raising radishes,
On a land of salt grass and dunes, sand-swept with a sea-breath on it:
This was Flanders, the unknown, the quiet,
The place where cows hunted lush cuds of green on lowlands,
And the raw-boned plowmen took horses with long shanks
Out in the dawn to the sea-breath.

Flanders sat slow-spoken amid slow-swung windmills,
Slow-circling windmill arms turning north or west,
Turning to talk to the swaggering winds, the childish winds,
So Flanders sat with the heart of a kitchen girl
Washing wooden bowls in the winter sun by a window.

poem by Carl Sandburg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Catty Talk between God of Death and a Professor

' Travel posthaste to hell
to receive the award
of excellence for acts
sinful and illegal'

' I didn't seek awards
the State or national
and international.
I won't slink to hell'

' It isn't mortal award.
In all your seven births
you had done wrongs severe.
See me, I'm God of Death'.

' Please don't sling the noose.
To tease, deflower, rape
molest...I have all rights
for guiding them to Ph.D'

' You did the crimes unseen
in College research lab.
You deserve the award
for your depraved conduct'

' I can't take the students
to lodge raided often.
I get money from men
and honey from women'

' O You caterer of Ph.D
A posthumus award
you will get in the hell
from the ghoul of HIV'

poem by Rajendran Muthiah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Cool Cat

The cool cat,
is just standing there.
The cool cat,
doesn't even glare.
The cool cat,
thinks he's so hot.
The cool cat,
doesn't give a snot.
The cool cat,
doesn't listen in class.
The cool cat,
thinks his better than the rest.
The cool cat,
really has no friends.
The cool cat,
smokes after school.
The cool cat,
left his family.
The cool cat,
is a player.
The cool cat,
has no prayers.
The cool cat,
has no savers.
The cool cat,
is one tough dude.
But really....
The cool cat,
is one big fool.

poem by Jasmine Aira
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

When I was in high school, I earned the pimple award and every other gross-out award.

quote by Jack Nicholson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Beauty....... of what?

The earth wait's the sky drizzles
Seasons come and seasons go
With the smell of weather
The farmer chooses to decorate his farm

A farmer believes every leaf
Of the plant as its own
At every point protects and nurtures
The plants every leaf

The farmer that stood by
That plants every need and move
The plants have no respect for him
The farmer doesn't even find out
Who caste the evil eye
But all that's left is his ruined farm of hope
What was ones a living green
Is now nothing but flying sand?

What did I plant and what did I get?
What did I plant and what did it become?
Wonders the helpless farmer
Even when crying on the inside
Smiles just for its plants
A farmer believes every leaf
Of the plant as its own
At every point protects the plants every leaf

What did I want and what did I get?
Is all the farmer could think

poem by Kiara Davar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The award is important in order to bring people to the movie theater. That's the only principle meaning of any award.

quote by Javier Bardem
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Awarding To Self

The king shall not have his kingdom
Honour himself with an award
That he deserves by virtue of facts.
Such award will degrade his worth.

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The M.O.& A.N.O.B.B. n' W. Award

'Never in my wildest dreams,
Had I ever in my lifetime 'think'
I would be so highly honored.
With such a prestigious citation.

I have been moved emotionally,
By such an incredible and heartfelt jesture.
And...
May I say,
If it had not been for 'you'...
Those I have come to touch.
This award...
The first of its kind,
Would not have been made possible.
Just to know my efforts,
Are being duly noted!
And in this acceptance,
I express my appreciation.

I thank each and every one of you,
Responsible for this.
And may this achievement,
Be not the end...
But the beginning,
Of more of that which you expect.'

~Well,
What do you think?
Too long?
Should I 'add' or cut out something? ~

*Oh heavens no!
But I do think,
A slow dropping tear...
From your left eye...
Should bring the audience to its collective feet.
That would clinched it.
Expect thunderous applause.*

~Brilliant.
I love it.
That 'tear' falling business,
Is great.
Thank you!
And that would reek of sincerity too!
I will prove to them,
They have chosen the right one.~

*Oh, yeah...
Repeat again for me,
The name of the award.*

~Sure.
No problem.
It's The Most Obnoxious and Arrogant Negro,
To Offend Both Blacks n' Whites Award.

I am positive it will not be awarded too often.
I made sure my act would be a hard one to follow.
I've earned this.
Trust me.~

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!