The Value Of Ethics
If a duck quacks and waddles,
Wearing a top hat while quacking...
But without a single fact quacked,
How can this duck hide its back...
With beliefs like that.
If a duck quacks and waddles,
Wearing a top hat while quacking...
And yet,
Disguises as a zebra amongst elephants...
To have others guess,
While sipping on champagne with donkeys...
Can this be considered a mess?
Or does this reflect an acceptance?
Representing the value of ethics.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it's probably a duck.
If it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, looks like a duck, it must be a duck.
When I see a bird that walks like a duck and swims like a duck and quacks like a duck, I call that bird a duck.
quote by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Want A New Duck
Woh oh
I want a new duck
One that wont try to bite
One that wont chew a hole in my socks
One that wont quack all night
I want a new duck
One with big webbed feet
One that knows how to wash my car
And keep his room real neat
One that wont raid the ice box
One thatll stay in shape
One thats never gonna try to migrate or escape
Or Ill tie him up with duck tape
I want a new duck
A mallard I think
One that wont make a mess of my house
Or build a nest in the bathroom sink
I want a new duck
One that wont steal my beer
One that wont stick his bill in my mail
One that knows the duck stops here
One that wont drive me crazy waddling all around
One wholl teach me how to swim and help me not to drown
And show me how to get down
How to get down baby
Get it?
*****
*****
*** ****
****
*** ***
I want a new duck
Not a swan or a goose
Just a drake I can dress real cute
Think Im gonna name him bruce
I want a new duck
Not a quail or an owl
One that wont molt to much
One that wont smell too fowl
One that wont beg for breadcrumbs
Hangin around all day
Hed better mind his manners
Better do just what I say
Or hes gonna be duck patte, duck patte, yah, yah
*
*****
***** (*** ** **)
****
*******
(lots of quacking sounds)
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, we have at least to consider the possibility that we have a small aquatic bird of the family anatidae on our hands.
quote by Douglas Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Take Me to Duck Heaven
In that glistening azure pond
I had a favorite
A duck
I called
Tawnablu
A quacker kind of
Bird
Recognizable by the
Aquamarine
Feathers
Atop her bobbing head
She swam aloof from
The rest
And refused all bread
Crumbs
Thrown her way
Even the finest bits
Collected from week old
French bread
Leftovers from the
Bakery
Down the road
The one managed by a
Croatian
Kick boxer from the Bronx
The one that
Refused entry to
Shirtless
Skateboarding
Teens
But kindly gave me
All the crusty crumbs I
Could bag
For my
Duck feeding
Addiction
And I am not embarrassed
Not so macho
To say
I loved that duck
My Tawnablu
In ways I can never
Describe
But let me try
To put my affection
Into words
Just this once:
Tawnablu, my pretty Canard
Quacking so hard
I want to ride your back
Down a stream
Without end
Tawnablu, my epic Canard
Quacking so hard
Take me, wild beauty
All the way to
Duck Heaven
poem by Catman Cohen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My shoes and my duck
My shoes and I are quite good friends you see
Often they have chats with me
They tell me things doesn’t matter when
Day or night
They ask me please to lace right
Tell me how to wear them right
I have many pair but only one do I love
They are blue and white
Just like the morning and its dove
That flies around with all their might
My shoes fight in my closet in the black of night
Over which one I will ware on my bike
But I can never forget my duck
To which I can always turn to trust
My friend that is always there
Telling me no lies
And awaiting my return home
From my eight hour chore
My duck can’t swim
my duck can’t quake
My duck just sinks
with a rock on his back
My duck can’t cry
my duck can’t sing
my duck just cant do anything
My ducks no duck and I know why
my duck is stuffed
my duck can’t fly...
I love my duck
Can’t you see why
So in the end
I wouldn’t trade my shoes for any red bull
Or my duck for any frog
Even though one might give me wings
Or one might make noise now and again
I love my blue shoes and my stuffed duck
P.S. the Saint helped me write parts of this, so I owe him a thank you, and just so you all know not all mine.
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ducks of Equality
Dark brown-black ducks
splish-splash and
pitter-patter on
gently rocking waves
of glee
When a light gray-white duck
tip-taps and
tip-toes
shyly shivering
'May I join? ' quacks he.
The dark brown-black ducks
easily accept
the light gray-white duck
as one of their own
and joyfully they swim and play
In chilly water
'til they're freezing to the bone
And I wonder:
Why can't America be
more like the
dark brown-black ducks
and the
light gray-white duck
floating on the waves
of acceptance and equality?
poem by Charlotte Riddle
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Duck
It is a white duck
During the rains a band of ducks afloat
against the cloud laden skies
only remind of the duck
The duck that wings unseen in the morning
and in the night
carrying the sunbeams and moonbeams
in its roseate beaks
The duck that lives on light
The duck that is the mount of Knowledge and Wisdom
Knowledge and wisdom always fights with one another
But when they ride the duck
they hold each other with loving arms
Or else they might fall from the shoulders of the duck
and break into pieces
In that case no one will be able to bring the pieces together
Alas! Alas!
poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
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Valentino
Valentino Valentino Valentino
I hope you like the sound of that. Valentino - that's my name
I'm the cutest duck to roam this side of Bockmer Lane
They say I've got the most handsome face, the prettiest of feet
A waddle to die for and a body that's hard to beat
I don't like motorcycles, planes or boats
Can't cook, sweep, read or tell funny jokes
Wash dishes - but why would any duck want to do that?
And if someone wants to know why, I just say ‘QUACK'
You'll never see me wear ‘Bling'
All of these are definitely not my thing
I'm an Indian runner - of that I am proud
And when I get excited my quacks can be quite loud
I'm King of the pond, a true gentleman of tall stature
I wobble around quacking on things that do not matter -
Except today - St Valentine's day
For the person who brought me here to you may have many faults
- not least his attempts at telling awfully funny jokes
He will always try and make you smile, laugh, feel comfortable, safe and secure
For it is you and knowing you - the only one that he does adore
So if you love him be kind and say - 'will you be my Valentine forever and a day? '
Then stand back and pause awhile
Look at his face and watch him smile
As he gently puts his arms around you, kisses you softly and ‘YES' will come the reply
And if you see his eyes water and tear drops fall,
it's probably because you're standing too close and on his feet - that's all.
Happy Valentine day
poem by JeanJacques Evendon
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Do You Think It's Alright / Fiddle About
(Pete Townshend)
I used to know everything about you
But today when I tried to point you out to one of my friends
I picked the wrong girl again
Don't see you in the crowd anymore
I think it's you but I can't be sure
You're wearing disguises
Occasionally a girl surprises me
When she turns out to be you
Wearing disguises
I don't think you want me to see you ever again
And today I saw you dressed as a flower bed
Last week you had a wig on your head
Directing traffic in the street
And your shoes were too big for your feet
You were wearing disguises
Occasionally a girl surprises me
When she turns out to be you
Wearing disguises
[repeat first verse]
Wearing disguises
Wearing disguises
Wearing disguises
Wearing disguises
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Disguises
I used to know everything about you
But today when I tried to point you out to one of my friends
I picked the wrong girl again
Dont see you in the crowd anymore
I think its you but I cant be sure
Youre wearing disguises
Occasionally a girl surprises me
When she turns out to be you
Wearing disguises
I dont think you want me to see you ever again
And today I saw you dressed as a flower bed
Last week you had a wig on your head
Directing traffic in the street
And your shoes were too big for your feet
You were wearing disguises
Occasionally a girl surprises me
When she turns out to be you
Wearing disguises
[repeat first verse]
Wearing disguises
Wearing disguises
Wearing disguises
Wearing disguises
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Duck! Don't Stick Your Neck Out
How many quacks does a quack quack quack
before he ducks for fish?
How many ducks does a quack quack duck
before his fish is fished?
How many geese's goose is cooked
because they ate up all the fish?
How many cooks cook geese
before their goose is cooked?
How many fowl fall foul
of fowl hunting cooks?
How many fowls' geese are cooked
before they flew from a foul hunting cook?
How many ducks' goose is cooked
because he didn't duck duck duck
when a fowl cook reached for his neck?
poem by David Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Duck and the Kangaroo
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo,
'Good gracious! how you hop!
Over the fields and the water too,
As if you never would stop!
My life is a bore in this nasty pond,
And I long to go out in the world beyond!
I wish I could hop like you!'
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.
'Please give me a ride on your back!'
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.
'I would sit quite still, and say nothing but 'Quack',
The whole of the long day through!
And we'd go to the Dee, and the Jelly Bo Lee,
Over the land, and over the sea;
Please take me a ride! O do!'
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.
Said the Kangaroo to the Duck,
'This requires some little reflection;
Perhaps on the whole it might bring me luck,
And there seems but one objection,
Which is, if you'll let me speak so bold,
Your feet are unpleasantly wet and cold,
And would probably give me the roo-
Matiz!' said the Kangaroo.
Said the Duck, 'As I sat on the rocks,
I have thought over that completely,
And I bought four pairs of worsted socks
Which fit my web-feet neatly.
And to keep out the cold I've bought a cloak,
And every day a cigar I'll smoke,
All to follow my own dear true
Love of a Kangaroo!'
Said the Kangaroo, 'I'm ready!
'All in the moonlight pale;
'But to balance me well, dear Duck, sit steady!
'And quite at the end of my tail!'
So away they went with a hop and a bound,
And they hopped the whole world three times round;
And who so happy - O who,
As the Duck and the Kangaroo?
poem by Edward Lear
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The Hunter
The hunter crouches in his blind
'Neath camouflage of every kind
And conjures up a quacking noise
To lend allure to his decoys
This grown-up man, with pluck and luck
is hoping to outwit a duck
poem by Ogden Nash
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This Poem is Just a Joke
An Irish duck shooter set off with three friends
All with their dogs and flasks of tea
At the end of the day
The Irishman was a learner and did not bag a single duck
Which he thought was very very bad luck.
The next week when he met his three friends
For another duck shoot
He had a huge catapult in his car boot
“What is the catapult for Paddy? ”
“Oh I know why I didn’t get any ducks last week,
I wasn’t throwing the dog high enough! ”
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Duck
Behold the duck.
It does not cluck.
A cluck it lacks.
It quacks.
It is specially fond
Of a puddle or pond.
When it dines or sups,
It bottoms ups.
poem by Ogden Nash
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They're Plucking Feathers From Each Other's Struts
The only thing one can expect to come from quacks
Is something tossed from a mouth one should duck
Or stay stuck
Trying to absorb the nonsense thrown
They're plucking feathers from each other's struts
All over the place and in unsuspecting faces to see
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Duck Dance
Duck
Dance
A back...
Hot of young
Dance of sex...
Back is duck
Duck is back
For some female
with male...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Duck at Haldon Ponds
At evening watches the duck
slow feeding the waterline.
Praises the duck. Such a fine
white miracle breasting the mayfly.
Green of her tail feathers,
space of her neck doubled in water
paddles off with my mind.
Ducks I have known.
Old duck mates of mine
inspecting the meeting of air and liquid.
Make no mistake, duck.
I´d like to eat you well cooked
one bell-battered Sunday in April.
And I´d wear your gorgeous feathers in my hat,
make a soup of the bones
and give your leftovers to the cat.