Madam's Past History
My name is Johnson--
Madam Alberta K.
The Madam stands for business.
I'm smart that way.
I had a
HAIR-DRESSING PARLOR
Before
The depression put
The prices lower.
Then I had a
BARBECUE STAND
Till I got mixed up
With a no-good man.
Cause I had a insurance
The WPA
Said, We can't use you
Wealthy that way.
I said,
DON'T WORRY 'BOUT ME!
Just like the song,
You WPA folks take care of yourself--
And I'll get along.
I do cooking,
Day's work, too!
Alberta K. Johnson--
Madam to you.
poem by Langston Hughes
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Related quotes
Madam and the Census Man
The census man,
The day he came round,
Wanted my name
To put it down.
I said, Johnson,
Alberta K.
But he hated to write
The K that way.
He said, What
Does K stand for?
I said, K--
And nothing more.
He said, I'm gonna put it
KÐAÐY.
I said, If you do,
You lie.
My mother christened me
Alberta K.
You leave my name
Just that way!
He said, Mrs.,
(With a snort)
Just a K
Makes your name too short.
I said, I don't
Give a damn!
Leave me and my name
Just like I am!
Furthermore, rub out
That MRS., too--
I'll have you know
I'm Madam to you!
poem by Langston Hughes
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Alberta Bound
Oh the prairie lights are burnin bright
The chinook wind is a-movin in
Tomorrow night Ill be alberta bound
Though Ive done the best I could
My old luck aint been so good and
Tomorrow night Ill be alberta bound
No one-eyed man could eer forget
The rocky mountain sunset
Its a pleasure just to be alberta bound
I long to see my next of kin
To know what kind of shape theyre in
Tomorrow night Ill be alberta bound
Alberta bound, alberta bound
Its good to be alberta bound
Alberta bound, alberta bound
Its good to be alberta bound
Oh the skyline of toronto
Is somethin youll get onto
But they say youve got to live there for a while
And if you got the money
You can get yourself a honey
A written guarantee ta make you smile
But its snowin in the city
And the streets and brown and gritty
And I know theres pretty girls all over town
But they never seem ta find me
And the one I left behind me
Is the reason that Ill be alberta bound
Alberta bound, alberta bound
Its good to be alberta bound
Alberta bound, alberta bound
Its good to be alberta bound
Its good to be alberta bound
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Madam and Her Madam
I worked for a woman,
She wasn't mean--
But she had a twelve-room
House to clean.
Had to get breakfast,
Dinner, and supper, too--
Then take care of her children
When I got through.
Wash, iron, and scrub,
Walk the dog around--
It was too much,
Nearly broke me down.
I said, Madam,
Can it be
You trying to make a
Pack-horse out of me?
She opened her mouth.
She cried, Oh, no!
You know, Alberta,
I love you so!
I said, Madam,
That may be true--
But I'll be dogged
If I love you!
poem by Langston Hughes
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Alberta
(traditional)
Alberta, alberta,
Where you been so long?
Alberta, alberta,
Where you been so long?
Aint had no loving
Since youve been gone.
Alberta, alberta,
Whered you stay last night?
Alberta, alberta
Whered you stay last night?
Come home this morning,
Clothes dont fit you right
Alberta, alberta,
Girl, youre on my mind.
Alberta, alberta,
Girl, youre on my mind.
Aint had no loving
Such a great long time.
Alberta, alberta,
Where you been so long?
Alberta, alberta,
Where you been so long?
Aint had no loving
Since youve been gone.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alberta #2
Alberta let your hair hang low
Alberta let your hair hang low
Ill give you more gold
Than your apron can hold
If youd only let your hair hang low
Alberta whats on your mind
Alberta whats on your mind
You keep me worried and bothered
All of the time
Alberta whats on your mind
Alberta dont you treat me unkind
Alberta dont you treat me unkind
Oh my heart is so sad
Cause I want you so bad
Alberta dont you treat me unkind
Alberta let your hair hang low
Alberta let your hair hang low
Ill give you more gold
Than your apron can hold
If youll only let your hair hang low
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alberta #1
Alberta let your hair hang low
Alberta let your hair hang low
Ill give you more gold
Than your apron can hold
If youd only let your hair hang low
Alberta whats on your mind
Alberta whats on your mind
You keep me worried and bothered
All of the time
Alberta whats on your mind
Alberta dont you treat me unkind
Alberta dont you treat me unkind
Oh my heart is so sad
Cause I want you so bad
Alberta dont you treat me unkind
Alberta let your hair hang low
Alberta let your hair hang low
Ill give you more gold
Than your apron can hold
If youll only let your hair hang low
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Miss Otis Regrets
(cole porter)
Miss otis regrets
She's unable to lunch today.
Madam...
Miss otis regrets
She's unable to lunch today.
She is sorry to be delayed,
But last evening down at lover's lane, she strayed.
Madam...
Miss otis regrets
She's unable to lunch today.
~interlude~
When she woke from her dream
And found that her love had gone,
Madam...
She ran to the man
Who had led her so far astray.
And from under her velvet gown,
She drew a gun and shot her lover down.
Madam...
Miss otis regrets
She's unable to lunch today.
Then the mob came and got her
And dragged her from the jail.
Madam...
They strung her upon
A willow across the way.
And the moment before she died,
She lifted up her lovely head and cried.
Madam...
Miss otis regrets
She's unable to lunch today.
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Miss Otis Regrets
Miss otis regrets, she's unable to lunch today, madam,
Miss otis regrets, she's unable to lunch today.
She is sorry to be delayed,
But last evening down in lover's lane she strayed, madam,
Miss otis regrets, she's unable to lunch today.
When she woke up and found that her dream of love was gone, madam,
She ran to the man who had led her so far astray,
And from under her velvet gown,
She drew a gun and shot her love down, madam,
Miss otis regrets, she's unable to lunch today.
When the mob came and got her and dragged her from the jail, madam,
They strung her upon the old willow across the way,
And the moment before she died,
She lifted up her lovely head and cried, madam......
Miss otis regrets, she's unable to lunch today.
Miss otis regrets, she's unable to lunch today
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Modern Love XXXVI: My Lady unto Madam
My Lady unto Madam makes her bow.
The charm of women is, that even while
You're probed by them for tears, you yet may smile,
Nay, laugh outright, as I have done just now.
The interview was gracious: they anoint
(To me aside) each other with fine praise:
Discriminating compliments they raise,
That hit with wondrous aim on the weak point:
My Lady's nose of Nature might complain.
It is not fashioned aptly to express
Her character of large-browed steadfastness.
But Madam says: Thereof she may be vain!
Now, Madam's faulty feature is a glazed
And inaccessible eye, that has soft fires,
Wide gates, at love-time only. This admires
My Lady. At the two I stand amazed.
poem by George Meredith
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A Humble letter to the Queen
Honored Madam,
I take this opportunity to wish you a happy birth day as I saw in the BBC the celebrations,
Oh! What a lovely pageant.
My blessings, you may long-lived!
Sri Lanka is once a colony under your kingdom.
Thank God we got independence.
But Madam you left your precious friend in our tiny country
And his name is ' Divide & Rule' a real gentleman.
One day some innocents died of a bomb explosion
But your precious BBC showed only the empty bus.
I think some defect to their cameras?
This ethnic cleansing is a by-product of your factory 'The Imperialism'.
Never mind Madam we can forget the past as we are Sri Lankan.
But I humbly request a favor Madam,
if possible could you please minimize?
You're prominent BBC's (Prima Donna) partial yelp!
Thanking you in anticipation of a kind and a favorable reply.
I remain Madam,
Yours most obediently,
A scribbler,
Nimal Dunuhinga
I dedicate this poem to Miss or Mrs. Dumeetha.Luthra (BBC correspondent in Sri Lanka) for your prominent double standard.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Good day Sir
Good day sir,
Is what I say.
Good day madam,
He says back.
We stop,
To speak.
How are you,
I say.
good
You,
He asked.
I'm very good,
Thank you,
I say.
We apologize to chat for a few minutes,
Before I say
Have a good day, sir.
He says back,
You too.
We go our own way,
And have good days.
We're dying on the same day,
And are buried side by side.
Good day sir,
I say when we meet.
Good day madam,
He says back.
poem by Dragon Crenshaw
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Woman In Politics
What, madam, run for School Director? You?
And want my vote and influence? Well, well,
That beats me! Gad! where _are_ we drifting to?
In all my life I never have heard tell
Of such sublime presumption, and I smell
A nigger in the fence! Excuse me, madam;
We statesmen sometimes speak like the old Adam.
But now you mention it-well, well, who knows?
We might, that's certain, give the sex a show.
I have a cousin-teacher. I suppose
If I stand in and you 're elected-no?
You'll make no bargains? That's a pretty go!
But understand that school administration
Belongs to Politics, not Education.
We'll pass the teacher deal; but it were wise
To understand each other at the start.
You know my business-books and school supplies;
You'd hardly, if elected, have the heart
Some small advantage to deny me-part
Of all my profits to be yours. What? Stealing?
Please don't express yourself with so much feeling.
You pain me, truly. Now one question more.
Suppose a fair young man should ask a place
As teacher-would you (pardon) shut the door
Of the Department in his handsome face
Until-I know not how to put the case
Would you extort a kiss to pay your favor?
Good Lord! you laugh? I thought the matter graver.
Well, well, we can't do business, I suspect:
A woman has no head for useful tricks.
My profitable offers you reject
And will not promise anything to fix
The opposition. That's not politics.
Good morning. Stay-I'm chaffing you, conceitedly.
Madam, I mean to vote for you-repeatedly.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Together They Are All Happy...
Madam X says that the latest
military corruption saddens her,
and boasts that all these money
can never be a source of pride
and neither shall it cause her envy,
May God curse all of them, says
Madam X, her hair is white and
she still moves actively despite
her being 76,
on TV i watched the generals and
the accountants not blinking any
eyelash when they say they do not
really know what happened inside
the envelopes that contain the
millions now considered irretrievable.
they have square dignified faces.
smiles lurk inside their cheeks,
and on stress therapy, they will
sometime spend their beach picnic
somewhere in Miami.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Cest La Vie
Words and music by chuck berry
It was a teenage wedding and the old folks wished em well
You could see that pierre did truly love the mademoiselle
And now the young monsieur and madam have rung the chapel bell
Cest la vie say the old folks, it goes to show you never can tell
They finished off an apartment with a two-room roebuck sale
The coolerator was jammed with tv dinners and ginger ale
And when pierre found work, the little money comin worked out well
Cest la vie say the old folks it goes to show you never can tell
They had a hi-fi phono, boy did they let it blast
Seven hundred little records, all blues, rock, rhythm, and jazz
But when the sun went down, the volume went down as well
Cest la vie say the old folks, it goes to show you never can tell
They bought a souped-up jitney, it was a cherry red 53
And drove it down to new orleans to celebrate their anniversary
It was there where pierre was wedded to the lovely mademoiselle
Cest la vie say the old folks, it goes to show you never can tell
They had a teenage wedding and the old folks wished em well
You could see that pierre did truly love the mademoiselle
And now the young monsieur and madam have rung the chapel bell
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A concert for the mushroom
A concert for the mushroom
Post modern
Pre mortal
Ab normal
Sur real
This is the whirl of time
This is the voice of smoke
This is the spiral of crime
This is the dead end choke
Sir, it’s real!
Madam, they kill!
Simulae posed
Post mortem masked
Modernly slaughtered
Pre meditated
Dust dedicated
Inter located
Exter okayted
Imp- exp- pumps
Imp- exp- pumps
Pumps the heart of earth
Sir, it’s real!
Madam, they kill!
Post
Split
Atomic
Human
Destr uctively
Anatomic
Conductors
Rage their war
Of sticks
Sir, it’s real!
Madam, they kill!
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Madam and The Rent Man
The rent man knocked.
He said, Howdy-do?
I said, What
Can I do for you?
He said, You know
Your rent is due.
I said, Listen,
Before I'd pay
I'd go to Hades
And rot away!
The sink is broke,
The water don't run,
And you ain't done a thing
You promised to've done.
Back window's cracked,
Kitchen floor squeaks,
There's rats in the cellar,
And the attic leaks.
He said, Madam,
It's not up to me.
I'm just the agent,
Don't you see?
I said, Naturally,
You pass the buck.
If it's money you want
You're out of luck.
He said, Madam,
I ain't pleased!
I said, Neither am I.
So we agrees!
poem by Langston Hughes
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Miss Piggy regrets..
Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today, madam..
Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today:
That tastelessly named flu’s got her
(She forgot to wash her front trotter…) so
Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today..
Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today, madam..
Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today:
It’s a swine of a stroke of bad luck:
Her eyelashes, she sneezed them unstuck… so
Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today…
Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today, madam..
Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today:
She’s all pink from her snout to her face;
Her mascara’s all over the place… so
Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today..
Why not try the lamb today, madam…?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Your husband strays, Madam..
After a day's work, I am at bed,
Dormant memories erupt in me to shed,
Tear of hot liquid to wet my night blouse,
Hear the feeble knock at the door, a mouse,
When open the door, have the shock of the life,
There stands the Boss with scratching ‘head',
Push me into the room to lock my hip,
When I try to scream, he locks my lips,
Thinking of my family back at my village,
Thinking of the loan that we mortgage,
Thinking of the welfare of the loved ones,
If I scream, Madam will be awake,
Depart me in the next available flight,
The brute starts to squeeze my breasts,
I push him and tell him not to violate,
He is on his knees to beg for stolen honey,
A man, who is a leader to millions of citizens,
Cries as a baby to steal my virtues,
I heard about the crocodile's tear,
In my native land, before it tears,
The body and the heart, ' stop it,
Sir, get out of here' I can't shout,
My hungry children will be hungrier,
Madam, please take away your carrier,
Are we here to do the house work,
Or take care of your husband, a sneak?
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Madam George
Down on cyprus avenue
With a child-like vision leaping into view.
The clicking clacking of the high-heeled shoes,
Ford and fitzroy; madam george.
Marching with the soldierboy behind
Hes much older now with hat on, drinking wine
And the smell of sweet perfume comes drifting thru
In the cool night breeze like shalimar
And then your self control lets go
And suddenly youre up against the bathroom door.
The hallway lights are finely getting dim
Youre in the front row touching him
And outside theyre making all the stops
The kinds out in the streets collecting bottle tops,
Going for cigarettes and matches to the shops,
Happy talking, madam george
And thats when you fall, oh,
Oh, thats when you fall
And you fall into a trance
Sitting on a sofa playing games of chance
With your folded arms in history books you glance
Into the eyes of madam george
And you think youve found your bag,
Youre getting weaker and your knees begin to sag
And in the corner playing dominoes in drag,
The one and only madam george
And outside the frosty window raps
She says be cool, I think that its the cops
Stands up, drops everything she gots,
Its not easy now you know
Now you know you gotta go
Catch a train from dublin up to sandy row,
In the wind, rain & fog & slush & snow
Keep on going on
Say good-bye we know youre pretty far out
And all the little boys comin round
They got gold cigarette lighters in their pockets
Walking away from it all, so cool.
Thats when you fall.
Fade
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hjerte-Suk til Maanen
Hulde Maane, stiig fra Skyen frem!
Solen hviler alt bag Laas og Lukke.
Ak, Madam, Madam, jeg elsker Dem!
Vær ei kold mod mine hede Sukke!
De er bleg, og jeg er ligesaa;
Begge vandre vi saa taust og ene;
Hurtigt gaaer De hen ad Himlens Blaa,
Ogsaa jeg har gode lange Bene.
Er det sandt at Maanen trækker Vand,
Vil jeg græde mig til Ãgtemand.
Hav mig naadig dog i Deres Sind,
Husk den Tid, da jeg var meget lille,
Da jeg spilled Skorsteen, Klink og Pind,
Og fik Riis, skjøndt ei jeg have vilde.
De har Kundskab om mit Barndoms Liv,
Jeg var god — en lille Sukker-Unge,
Nu jeg er det i Superlativ,
Men beskedent tier her min Tunge.
O, Madam, Madam! kom ned til mig,
Eller ogsaa tag mig op til Dig!
De har hørt saa mangen Elskers Suk,
Trøstet ham ved Deres kydske Flamme,
Ak, men mig De svarer ei et Muk,
Det er ikke christeligt, Madamme!
Gjerne sukked jeg for Dem paa Spansk,
Men jeg er ei stiv i Grammatiken,
Ak! jeg mægter knap at tale Dansk,
Hjertet synker ned i Kjole-Fikken.
Skjænker De ei snart mit Hjerte Ro,
Vist jeg spiller Werther Nummer to.
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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