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Albert and the 'Eadsman

On young Albert Ramsbottom's birthday
His parents asked what he'd like most;
He said to see t' Tower of London
And gaze upon Anne Boleyn's ghost.

They thowt this request were unusual
And at first to refuse were inclined,
'Til Pa said a trip t' metrollopse
Might broaden the little lad's mind.

They took charrybank up to London
And got there at quarter to fower,
Then seeing as pubs wasn't open
They went straight away to the tower.

They didn't think much to the buildin'
'T weren't what they'd been led to suppose,
And the 'Bad Word' Tower didn't impress them,
They said Blackpool had got one of those.

At last Albert found a Beefeater
And filled the old chap with alarm.
By asking for Ghost of Anne Boleyn
As carried her 'ead 'neath her arm.

Said Beefeater 'You ought to come Fridays
If it's ghost of Anne Boleyn you seek,
Her union now limits her output
And she only gets one walk a week.

'But,' he said, 'if it's ghosts that you're after,
There's Lady Jane Grey's to be seen,
She runs around chased by the 'Eadsman
At midnight on th' old Tower Green.'

They waited on t' green till near midnight,
Then thinking they'd time for a sup,
They took out what food they'd brought with them
And waited for t' ghost to turn up.

On the first stroke of twelve, up jumped Albert,
His mouth full of cold, dripping toast,
With his stick with the 'orses 'ead 'andle
He pointed, and said 'Here's the ghost!'

They felt their skins going all goosey
As Lady Jane's Spectre drew near
And Albert fair swallered his tonsils
When the 'Eadsman an' all did appear.

The 'Eadsman chased Jane round the grass patch
They saw his axe flash in the moon
And seeing as poor lass were 'eadless
They wondered what what next he would prune.

He suddenly caught sight of Albert
As midnight was on its last chime
As he lifted his axe, father murmered
'We'll get the insurance this time.'

At that, Mother rose, taking umbridge;
She said, 'Put that cleaver away.
You're not cutting our Albert's 'ead off,
Yon collar were clean on today.

The brave little lad stood undaunted
'Til the ghost were within half a pace.
Then taking the toast he were eating,
Slapped it, dripping side down, in his face.

'T were a proper set-back for the 'Eadsman
He let out one 'owl of despair,
Then taking his ladyfriend with him
He disappeared - just like that, there.

When Pa saw the way as they vanished
He trembled with fear and looked blue,
'Til Ma went and patted his shoulder
An' said, 'Sallright lad, we saw it too.'

Some say 'twere the drippin' as done it,
From a roast leg of mutton it came,
And as th' 'Eadsman had been a Beefeater
They reckon he vanished from shame.

And around Tower Green, from that moment,
They've ne're seen a sign of the ghost,
But when t' Beefeaters go on night duty,
They take slices of cold drippin' toast.

poem by Marriott Edgar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Return of Albert

You've 'eard 'ow young Albert Ramsbottom,
In the Zoo up at Blackpool one year,
With a stick and 'orse's 'ead 'andle,
Gave a lion a poke in the ear.

The name of the lion was Wallace,
The poke in the ear made 'im wild;
And before you could say 'Bob's your Uncle,'
'E'd up and 'e'd swallered the child.

'E were sorry the moment 'e'd done it,
With children 'e'd always been chums,
And besides, 'e'd no teeth in 'is noodle,
And 'e couldn't chew Albert on t'gums.

'E could feel the lad moving inside 'im,
As 'e lay on 'is bed of dried ferns,
And it might 'ave been little lad's birthday,
'E wished 'im such 'appy returns.

But Albert kept kicking and fighting,
Till Wallace arose feeling bad,
And felt it were time that 'e started to stage
A come-back for the lad.

So with 'is 'ead down in a corner,
On 'is front paws 'e started to walk,
And 'e coughed and 'e sneezed and 'e gargled,
Till Albert shot out like a cork.

Old Wallace felt better direc'ly,
And 'is figure once more became lean,
But the only difference with Albert
Was 'is face and 'is 'ands were quite clean.

Meanwhile Mister and Missus Ramsbottom
'Ad gone 'ome to tea feeling blue;
Ma says 'I feel down in the mouth like,'
Pa says "Aye! I bet Albert does too.'

Said Ma 'It just goes for to show yer
That the future is never revealed,
If I thought we was going to lose 'im
I'd 'ave not 'ad 'is boots soled and 'eeled.

'Let's look on the bright side,' said Father
'What can't be 'elped must be endured,
Every cloud 'as a silvery lining,
And we did 'ave young Albert insured.'

A knock at the door came that moment,
As Father these kind words did speak,
'Twas the man from t'Prudential,
E'd called for their 'tuppence per person per week.'

When Father saw who 'ad been knocking,
'E laughed and 'e kept laughing so,
That the young man said 'What's there to laugh at?'
Pa said 'You'll laugh an' all when you know.'

'Excuse 'im for laughing,' said Mother,
'But really things 'appen so strange,
Our Albert's been ate by a lion,
You've got to pay us for a change.'

Said the young feller from the Prudential,
'Now, come come, let's understand this,
You don't mean to say that you've lost 'im?'
Ma says 'Oh, no! we know where 'e is.'

When the young man 'ad 'eard all the details,
A bag from 'is pocket he drew,
And he paid them with interest and bonus,
The sum of nine pounds four and two.

Pa 'ad scarce got 'is 'and on the money,
When a face at the window they see,
And Mother says 'Eeh! look, it's Albert,'
And Father says 'Aye, it would be.'

Young Albert came in all excited,
and started 'is story to give,
And Pa says 'I'll never trust lions again,
Not as long as I live.'

The young feller from the Prudential
To pick up his money began,
And Father says 'Eeh! just a moment,
Don't be in a hurry, young man.'

Then giving young Albert a shilling,
He said 'Pop off back to the Zoo.
'Ere's your stick with the 'orse's 'ead 'andle,
Go and see what the Tigers can do!'

poem by Marriott Edgar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Albert's Return

You've `eard `ow young Albert Ramsbottom
At the zoo up at Blackpool one year
With a stick with an `orse's `ead `andle
Gave a lion a poke in the ear?

The name of the lion was Wallace,
The poke in the ear made `im wild
And before you could say "Bob's yer uncle"
E'd upped and `e'd swallowed the child.

`E were sorry the moment `e done it;
With children `e'd always been chums,
And besides, `e'd no teeth in his muzzle,
And `e couldn't chew Albert on't gums.

`E could feel the lad movin' inside `im
As `e lay on `is bed of dried ferns;
And it might `ave been little lad's birthday-
E wished `im such `appy returns.

But Albert kept kickin' and fightin'-
And Wallace got up, feelin' bad.
Decided 'twere time that `e started
To stage a comeback for the lad.

Then puttin' `ead down in one corner,
On `is front paws `e started to walk;
And `e coughed, and `e sneezed, and `e gargled
`Till Albert shot out - like a cork!

Now Wallace felt better directly
And `is figure once more became lean.
But the only difference with Albert Was,
`is face and `is `ands were quite clean.

Meanwhile Mr. and Mrs. Ramsbottom
`Ad gone back to their tea, feelin' blue.
Ma said, "I feel down in the mouth, like.
" Pa said, "Aye, I bet Albert does, too."

Said Mother, "It just goes to show yer
That the future is never revealed;
If I'd thowt we was goin' to lose `im,
I'd `ave not `ad `is boots soled and `eeled."

"Let's look on the bright side," said Father,
"Wot can't be `elped must be endured;
Each cloud `as a silvery lining,
And we did `ave young Albert insured."

A knock on the door came that moment
As Father these kind words did speak.
`Twas the man from Prudential - `e'd come for
Their tuppence per person per week.

When Father saw `oo `ad been knockin',
`E laughed, and `e kept laughin` so -
The man said "`Ere, wot's there to laugh at?"
Pa said "You'll laugh and all when you know!"

"Excuse `im for laughing," said Mother,
"But really, things `appen so strange -
Our Albert's been et by a lion;
You've got to pay us for a change!"

Said the young man from the Prudential:
"Now, come, come, let's understand this-
You don't mean to say that you've lost `im?"
Pa said "Oh, no, we know where `e is!"

When the young man `ad `eard all the details,
A purse from `is pocket he drew
And `e paid them with interest and bonus
The sum of nine pounds, four and two.

Pa `ad scarce got `is `and on the money
When a face at the window they see-
And Mother cried "Eee, look, it's Albert!"
And Father said "Aye, it would be."

Albert came in all excited,
And started `is story to give;
And Pa said "I'll never trust lions
Again, not as long as I live."

The young man from the Prudential
To pick up the money began
But Father said "`ere, wait a moment,
Don't be in a `urry, young man."

Then giving young Albert a shilling,
`E said "`Ere, pop off back to the zoo;
Get your stick with the `orse's `ead `andle-
Go and see wot the tigers can do!"

poem by Marriott Edgar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Ghost And Me

The ghost and me
The ghost and me.
Are one and the same.
We don't exist.
We are never to be seen.

Everybody has washed their hand clean of...
A mistake that never happen.
A birth that was more like a regurgitation.
I didn't mean to do that.
Oh oh but you did.

The ghost and me
The ghost and me.
Are one and the same.
We don't exist.
We are never to be seen.

Now tell me
How hard is it to forgive
When one denies you everyday..?
Oh just disappear.
I wish you weren't here.
Those are the words I continuously hear.

The ghost and me
The ghost and me.
Are one and the same.
We don't exist.
We are never to be seen.

Voices marching to a beat.
Voices marching to an eventual defeat.
Running through a slaughter house just to fix a broken soul.
An what does it expose?
Is the blood real?
A talentless man with no cloths.

The ghost and me
The ghost and me.
Are one and the same.
We don't exist.
We are never to be seen.

I hate it.
It isn't fair.
But in this world of despair.
Tears will never heal these wounds.
For they're continuously felt each and everyday.
The pain will never go away.
It is here to stay.

The ghost and me
The ghost and me.
Are one and the same.
We don't exist.
We are never to be seen.

The ghost and me
The ghost and me.
Are one and the same.
We don't exist.
We are never to be seen.

No never again.
A march to the very end.
When I'm hanging from that rope
I want nothing from you.
It is what you gave me.
Suffering silence.
The stillness that is so quiet.
No one is here except...

The ghost and me
The ghost and me.
Are one and the same.
We don't exist.
We are never to be seen.

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The Ghost of Tower Two

The piled debris had been removed
The smell of death was gone
The first time she appeared to me
one cool September morn

Translucent and ethereal, to my disbelieving eye
Like many a wingless angel who’d tried and failed to fly
Whatever was she doing here, why now and not before
peering in my window on the forty second floor.

I felt a chill – a sense of dread I’d never felt before
My superstitious peasant brain was coming to the fore.
And yet I sensed no threat of doom, no anger out of you
floating there before me, the ghost of tower two.

There was sadness in your eyes for all you had foregone
Deprived of youth and love and life-all vanished now and gone
As morning light began to glow you faded from my view
But I will not forget you soon, the ghost of tower two.

Perhaps she’s seeking closure, the discovery of a bone
Or has unfinished business that keeps her here alone
Or maybe we’ve forgotten them- what we promised not to do
And deserve now to be haunted by the ghost of tower two.

poem by John F. McCullagh
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Albert and the Lion

There's a famous seaside place called Blackpool,
That's noted for fresh air and fun,
And Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom
Went there with young Albert, their son.

A grand little lad was young Albert,
All dressed in his best; quite a swell
With a stick with an 'orse's 'ead 'andle,
The finest that Woolworth's could sell.

They didn't think much of the Ocean:
The waves, they were fiddlin' and small,
There was no wrecks and nobody drownded,
Fact, nothing to laugh at at all.

So, seeking for further amusement,
They paid and went into the Zoo,
Where they'd Lions and Tigers and Camels,
And old ale and sandwiches too.

There were one great big Lion called Wallace;
His nose were all covered with scars -
He lay in a somnolent posture,
With the side of his face on the bars.

Now Albert had heard about Lions,
How they was ferocious and wild -
To see Wallace lying so peaceful,
Well, it didn't seem right to the child.

So straightway the brave little feller,
Not showing a morsel of fear,
Took his stick with its 'orse's 'ead 'andle
And pushed it in Wallace's ear.

You could see that the Lion didn't like it,
For giving a kind of a roll,
He pulled Albert inside the cage with 'im,
And swallowed the little lad 'ole.

Then Pa, who had seen the occurrence,
And didn't know what to do next,
Said 'Mother! Yon Lion's 'et Albert',
And Mother said 'Well, I am vexed!'

Then Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom -
Quite rightly, when all's said and done -
Complained to the Animal Keeper,
That the Lion had eaten their son.

The keeper was quite nice about it;
He said 'What a nasty mishap.
Are you sure that it's your boy he's eaten?'
Pa said "Am I sure? There's his cap!'

The manager had to be sent for.
He came and he said 'What's to do?'
Pa said 'Yon Lion's 'et Albert,
'And 'im in his Sunday clothes, too.'

Then Mother said, 'Right's right, young feller;
I think it's a shame and a sin,
For a lion to go and eat Albert,
And after we've paid to come in.'

The manager wanted no trouble,
He took out his purse right away,
Saying 'How much to settle the matter?'
And Pa said "What do you usually pay?'

But Mother had turned a bit awkward
When she thought where her Albert had gone.
She said 'No! someone's got to be summonsed' -
So that was decided upon.

Then off they went to the P'lice Station,
In front of the Magistrate chap;
They told 'im what happened to Albert,
And proved it by showing his cap.

The Magistrate gave his opinion
That no one was really to blame
And he said that he hoped the Ramsbottoms
Would have further sons to their name.

At that Mother got proper blazing,
'And thank you, sir, kindly,' said she.
'What waste all our lives raising children
To feed ruddy Lions? Not me!'

poem by Marriott Edgar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Lion and Albert

There's a famous seaside place called Blackpool,
That's noted for fresh air and fun,
And Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom
Went there with young Albert, their son.

A grand little lad was young Albert,
All dressed in his best; quite a swell
With a stick with an 'orse's 'ead 'andle,
The finest that Woolworth's could sell.

They didn't think much of the Ocean:
The waves, they were fiddlin' and small,
There was no wrecks and nobody drownded,
Fact, nothing to laugh at at all.

So, seeking for further amusement,
They paid and went into the Zoo,
Where they'd Lions and Tigers and Camels,
And old ale and sandwiches too.

There were one great big Lion called Wallace;
His nose were all covered with scars -
He lay in a somnolent posture,
With the side of his face on the bars.

Now Albert had heard about Lions,
How they was ferocious and wild -
To see Wallace lying so peaceful,
Well, it didn't seem right to the child.

So straightway the brave little feller,
Not showing a morsel of fear,
Took his stick with its 'orse's 'ead 'andle
And pushed it in Wallace's ear.

You could see that the Lion didn't like it,
For giving a kind of a roll,
He pulled Albert inside the cage with 'im,
And swallowed the little lad 'ole.

Then Pa, who had seen the occurrence,
And didn't know what to do next,
Said 'Mother! Yon Lion's 'et Albert',
And Mother said 'Well, I am vexed!'

Then Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom -
Quite rightly, when all's said and done -
Complained to the Animal Keeper,
That the Lion had eaten their son.

The keeper was quite nice about it;
He said 'What a nasty mishap.
Are you sure that it's your boy he's eaten?'
Pa said "Am I sure? There's his cap!'

The manager had to be sent for.
He came and he said 'What's to do?'
Pa said 'Yon Lion's 'et Albert,
'And 'im in his Sunday clothes, too.'

Then Mother said, 'Right's right, young feller;
I think it's a shame and a sin,
For a lion to go and eat Albert,
And after we've paid to come in.'

The manager wanted no trouble,
He took out his purse right away,
Saying 'How much to settle the matter?'
And Pa said "What do you usually pay?'

But Mother had turned a bit awkward
When she thought where her Albert had gone.
She said 'No! someone's got to be summonsed' -
So that was decided upon.

Then off they went to the P'lice Station,
In front of the Magistrate chap;
They told 'im what happened to Albert,
And proved it by showing his cap.

The Magistrate gave his opinion
That no one was really to blame
And he said that he hoped the Ramsbottoms
Would have further sons to their name.

At that Mother got proper blazing,
'And thank you, sir, kindly,' said she.
'What waste all our lives raising children
To feed ruddy Lions? Not me!'

poem by Marriott Edgar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ghost Train

Here they come to steal my soul
(Ghost train)
Wait it out until I know
(Ghost train)
Trying not to feel I give it
(Ghost train)
Moving up until I go go
(Ghost train)
She was not to hear about me leaving
(Ghost train)
Trying to be near my heart
(Ghost train)
Trying not to feel like bleeding
(Ghost train)
Moving up until I'm taught to your side
(Ghost train)
Yeah yeah yeah
(Ghost train)
yeah yeah yeah
(Ghost train)
yeah yeah yeah
(Ghost train)
Got suicide for my baby
(Ghost train)
Living up until I wanted
(Ghost train)
Seeing like I'm out of bed, yeah
(Ghost train)
Moving up and taught I'm a weapon
(Ghost train)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
(Ghost train)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
(Ghost train)
I see myself pretend how to get there
(Ghost train)
Dripping down, I'm poisoned on the street
(Ghost train)
Come on come on come on!
(Ghost train)
Come on come on come on!
(Ghost train)
Come on come on come on!
(Ghost train)
Come on come on come on!
(Ghost train)
Come on come on come on!
(Ghost train)
Come on come on come on!
(Ghost train)
Come on come on come on!
(Ghost train)
Come on come on come on!
(Ghost train)
Got suicide for my baby
(Ghost train)
Living up until I wanted
(Ghost train)
Seeing like I'm out of bed, yeah
(Ghost train)
Moving up and taught I'm a weapon
(Ghost train)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
(Ghost train)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
(Ghost train)
I see myself pretend how to get there
(Ghost train)
Dripping down, I'm poisoned on the street
(Ghost train)
Come on come on come on!
(Ghost train)
Come on come on come on!
(Ghost train)

song performed by by Gorillaz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ghost

I'm like a ghost
Flying in the night
Im in the darkness of light

Im a ghost or at least thats how I feel
Im like a zombie
Things have taken over.

Im like a ghost
Hovering over myself
Looking down at the mess
Labelled with my name

I see the mess below me
The mess is me
Im a ghost of my formal self

Im a ghost that floats above
Im a ghost of life
A ghost of my old self
Half the person I used to be

poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tower Of London

Let me take you to trafalgar square
Let me take you there
Every streets a fashion catwalk
Everyones debonair
Let me take you to piccadilly
Guess it leads somewhere
Tower over centuries, tower over london
Tower up and frankly Im amazed
Whats done cannot be undone, not here not in london
Whats done can never be erased
So, tower up! - its those little things
Make life interesting- tower of london!
Tower up! - wasting time
Yours and mine - tower of london!
Hip london! hip london!
Let me take you to st.jamess square
Let me groove you there
Diplomats get target practice
In the open air
Psychobillies scream blue murder
Then they hit mayfair
Tower over centuries, tower over london
Tower up and frankly Im amazed
Whats done cannot be undone, not here not in london
Whats done can never be erased
So, tower up! - its those little things
Make life interesting- tower of london!
Tower up! - wasting time
Precious time - tower of london!
Tower up! Ill meet you there
Ill be there - tower of london
New york! - dont make me laugh
Ive seen photographs - tower of london...

song performed by by Abc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ghost

Tell me
Who is not a ghost
Ghost is a ghost
To afraid ghost
Is to afraid thyself
It is good to
Go with the ghost
Ghost is for a
Short time with us
Ghost left
Our works stop.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Silly; Religion: Rich Man Vs. Ghost

honest 'scrooge':
The rich man said 'I care not to breed; time's too valuable to sow my ‘seed'.
Money's my own evil, like cotton has its weevil.
All I really care about is greed.'

rich man is warned:
To rich man one eve came a tall ghost. Said the foretelling ghost to his host:
'All money you can save you can take to your grave,
but in Hell you'll still be scorched toast.'

ooh! scary ghost (not) ! :
Rich man to ghost: 'You're not so clever. You'll find I have no panic lever.
L. R. Hubbard did say 'rich men, live for today;
Scientologists live forever'.'

ghost retorts:
Ghost to rich man: 'I have discovered what became of your L. R. Hubbard.
He told a mighty tale, but his beliefs did fail….
to keep him out of the Devil's cupboard.'

rich man retorts back:
Rich man to ghost: 'I believe you're a liar. I think your tail will be on fire.
I would not hire you …to fix the sole of my shoe, …
let alone 'my soul '. You conspire! ! '

ghost gives up! (almost) :
At that the poor ghost his head did scratch, thinking, perhaps, he'd met his match.
Then he saw the TV. He put on channel three,
and Hubbard's broadcast (from Hell) they did catch.

thankful (formerly-rich) man to ghost:
Rich man said: 'Ghost, I believe you indeed! ! You can leave now on your steed.
but first take my money and bring me a ‘honey',
for I've been long overdue to breed! ! '

poem by Bri Edwards
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Ghost Bear, page 1 of 4

Long ago, in a small village
Where the Great River meets the
Limitless Salt Sea, lived Muin Manitu,
An aging shaman.

Ghost Bear had two good wives
Who gave him four fine daughters
And many grand-children.
But now both wives were dead.

Ghost Bear was getting old,
So old that he made his death song
Mumbling it often under his breath
So he would not forget it.

One night, Raven came to Ghost Bear
In a dream, bringing an important message.
“You must leave wigwam and village,
before the sun rises again.”

“This must be my time, ” thought
Ghost Bear, “My time to die.
I am glad. It is a good time
to leave this world.”

And so, taking only his knife and
His Medicine Bag, Ghost Bear pushed
His canoe out into the river while
All the village slept.

“I will go west on the Great River, ”
Thought Ghost Bear to himself, “Then,
When it is my time to go, I will be
pointed in the right direction.”

All morning long, Ghost Bear paddled
Westward on the Great River, and when
Sun was directly above him, he saw
A raven flying high above.

“I am going true, ” he thought, “Raven
Has sent me an unmistakeable sign.”
And Ghost Bear kept paddling with
Neither food nor drink.

As day became night, Ghost Bear
Continued on, for the full moon was bright
And showed him the right path on the
Great River clearly, brightly.

poem by John Bliven Morin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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O Death, rock me asleep, bring me to quiet rest, let pass my weary guiltless ghost out of my careful breast.

quote by Anne Boleyn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Albert and His Savings

One day, little Albert Ramsbottom
To see 'ow much money 'e'd got
Stuck a knife in 'is money-box slot 'ole
And fiddled and fished out the lot.

It amounted to fifteen and fourpence
Which 'e found by a few simple sums
Were ninety two tuppenny ices
Or twice that in penn'orths of gums.

The sound of the chinkin' of money
Soon brought father's 'ead round the door
He said, "Whats that there, on the table?"
Albert said it were, "Fifteen and four."

"You're not going to spend all that money..."
Said Pa, in an admonitory tone
"On toffee an' things for your stomach."
Said Mother, "Why not?... it's his own."

Said Pa, "Nay, with that fifteen shillings,
We'll buy National Savings and then...
In five years we'll have seventeen and six
And one pound and sixpence, in ten!"

Young Albert weren't what you'd call eager
He saw his sweet dreams fade away,
Ma said, "Let 'im 'ave the odd fourpence."
Pa lovingly answered, "Nay... nay!"

"It's our duty in crisis... what's 'appened
For every child, woman and man
To strain every muscle and sinew
To raise every penny we can!"

He said, "Even this little fourpence...
Might help us, the Germans to drub!"
Then 'e dropped the four coins in 'is pocket
And made for the neighbouring pub.

These words stirred the 'eart of young Albert
He made up 'is mind then and there
To take up 'is part in the straining
And sell everything 'e could spare.

So off 'e went down to the junk shop
With some toys and a flashlamp, he'd got.
And the stick with the 'orses 'ead 'andle
He received half a crown for the lot.

He went off to the Post Office counter
Where National Savings was bought
But found that they cost fifteen shillings
Which meant he were twelve and six short.

The little lad wasn't down 'earted
He went off without wastin' words
And sold 'is dad's smoking companion
And 'is Mother's glass case of stuffed birds.

At the Post Office counter they gave 'im
A certificate all crisp and clean
Then back 'e went 'ome, to his parents
To say what a good boy he'd been.

They didn't 'alf shout, when he told 'em
By Gumm... but 'e were in the wars
But at finish, they 'ad to forgive 'im
It were all done in such a grand cause.

There's a moral, of course. to this story
That's pointing to you and to me...
Let's all be young Alberts and tend
To defend the right to be free.

poem by Marriott Edgar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Ghost

Little ghost, little ghost
One I'm scared of the most
Can you scare me up a little bit of love?
I'm the only one that sees you,
And I can't do much to please you
And it's not yet time to meet the lord above
D
The first woman that I met her
I did not expect a specter
When I shook her hand I really shook a glove
She looked into me so sweetly
And we left the room discreetly
No one else could know the secret of our love
I
Little ghost, little ghost
One I'm scared of the most
Can you scare me up a little bit of love?
I'm the only one that sees you,
And I can't do much to please you
And it's not yet time to meet the lord above
E
Every morning I awoke
And I see my little ghost
Wond'rin' if it's really her that's lying there
I lean to touch her and I whisper
But not brave enough to kiss her
S
When I held her I was really holding air
T
Little ghost, little ghost
One I'm scared of the most
Can you scare me up a little bit of love?
I'm the only one that sees you,
And I can't do much to please you
And it's not yet time to meet the lord above
U
Though I try my best to keep it
There really was no secret
Must have looked like I was dancing with the wall
No one else could see this apparition
But because of my condition
I fell in love with a little ghost and that was all
Little ghost, little ghost
One I'm scared of the most
Can you scare me up a little bit of love?
I'm the only one that sees you,
And I can't do much to please you
And it's not yet time to meet the lord above
No, it's not yet time to meet the lord above
Bye HIM

song performed by by White Stripes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Britanica Hymn Revised

There are shadows in my dreams that I see
While I walk at night in the park in London riding my horse
But the shadows seen to follow me like a living ghost
Can I call this ghost the living ghost of London?
Or is somebody that is following me in the dark?

But don't try to ask me who it is
because I can't see very well in the dark
Also the only light that is available in the park here in London
comes From the moon in the sky
But the moon is doing a good job to guide me
where I need to go from Point a to point b here in the park at London

poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Britanica Hymn Edited

There are shadows in my dreams that I see
While I walk at night in the park in London riding my horse
But the shadows seen to follow me like a living ghost
Can I call this ghost the living ghost of London?
Or is somebody that is following me in the dark?
But don't try to ask me who it is because I can't see very well in the dark
Also the only light that is available in the park here in London comes from The moon in the sky
But the moon is doing a good job to guide me where I need to go from Point a to point b here in the park at London

poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mischievous Ghost

She came dancing right before my eyes
She said shed came to warn me
Before it dawned on me
I went walking on the blank hillside
Where the sunset falls
Where the sunset dies
She gave me love, she told me lies
That most mischievous ghost
She was in disguise, she was in disguise, she was in disguise.
He started to whistle, they bought him a flute
He was talking in tongues, they swore he was mute
He scoffed and blasphemed, they said it was beautiful
Busted a button, they bought him a suitcase full
They coloured him cricket and laced him up tight
As he drew on their days resurrected his nights
He raved in the dark, he went out in a blaze
There you go, they said, hes good for nothing and lazy
With scandal and shame they slandered his name
They told him to freeze, they damned him to roast
Disappointed that he passed away peacefully
Never [trying/dying] to be a mischievous ghost
They dug him up quick with a polish and lick
They powdered him up till he only looked sick
The hinge in his backbone would bend to applause
But his dancing was not quite as lively of course
These are the rewards immortality affords
Bullied and bribed and beaten to bliss
[harrington slacks/harrods in slacks] and tormental laments
Of going away and not being missed
With scandal and shame they slandered his name
They told him to freeze, they damned him to roast
Disappointed that he passed away peacefully
Never dying to be a mischievous ghost
With the green beer and the shamrock tattoos
Singing his songs of the battles we lose
And [when/will] you come home again so we can murder you
What would you do if they took his word
With forty-eight million to join in the toast
Move over my darling
Mischievous ghost
Mischievous ghost

song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Michievous Ghost (feat. Mary Coughlan)

She came dancing right before my eyes
She said shed came to warn me
Before it dawned on me
I went walking on the blank hillside
Where the sunset falls
Where the sunset dies
She gave me love, she told me lies
That most mischievous ghost
She was in disguise, she was in disguise, she was in disguise.
He started to whistle, they bought him a flute
He was talking in tongues, they swore he was mute
He scoffed and blasphemed, they said it was beautiful
Busted a button, they bought him a suitcase full
They coloured him cricket and laced him up tight
As he drew on their days resurrected his nights
He raved in the dark, he went out in a blaze
"there you go," they said, "hes good for nothing and lazy"
With scandal and shame they slandered his name
They told him to freeze, they damned him to roast
Disappointed that he passed away peacefully
Never [trying/dying] to be a mischievous ghost
They dug him up quick with a polish and lick
They powdered him up till he only looked sick
The hinge in his backbone would bend to applause
But his dancing was not quite as lively of course
These are the rewards immortality affords
Bullied and bribed and beaten to bliss
[harrington slacks/harrods in slacks] and tormental laments
Of going away and not being missed
With scandal and shame they slandered his name
They told him to freeze, they damned him to roast
Disappointed that he passed away peacefully
Never dying to be a mischievous ghost
With the green beer and the shamrock tattoos
Singing his songs of the battles we lose
And [when/will] you come home again so we can murder you
What would you do if they took his word
With forty-eight million to join in the toast
Move over my darling
Mischievous ghost
Mischievous ghost

song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Red Petticoat

You were no beauty, Anne Boleyn,
Your skin too dark, not fair,
Your eyes were brown, tho' almost black,
And dark, your dark brown hair;
'Not handsome, ' the Ambassador
From Venice would opine,
But everyone agreed, your slender neck
Was very fine.

Your sister Mary wooed the King,
And took him to her bed,
She'd thought that she could win; he stayed
With Catherine, instead,
For Harry never dignified
The whores he conquered, when
The skirts he couldn't raise were far
More Queenly, then, to him.

Your eyes, they sparkled, led him on,
Your lips they told him 'No! '
'I would not have my liege, my prince
Think badly of me so! '
For seven years you pouted, swore
Undying love could wait,
Until he gained the great divorce,
Re-sought the wedded state.

Oh, Anne Boleyn, the only sin
You sought was to be free,
To choose the man you would adore,
Not bound by some decree,
But Percy was then barred from court
As Wolsey warned him off,
And Wyatt's gentle poetry
Was merely Courtly Love.

To be demure and gentle,
Acquiesce in Henry's plans,
Was not the way of Anne Boleyn,
You used your pressing charms.
You could be stubborn, quarrelsome
As all in court could hear,
Chapuys called you a 'she-devil',
A woman men should fear.

And so it was with Thomas More,
You helped him disappear,
By whispering words of hatred in
King Henry's willing ear,
Your tongue brought Cardinal Wolsey down,
It ended Fisher's life,
You built your store of Karma as
Our Good King Henry's wife.

You had a bright red petticoat
Worn underneath your smock,
You'd laugh and flirt outrageously,
Excessively, de trop,
But you could not provide the heir
To bolster Henry's worth,
The first born was a pretty girl,
The next two died at birth.

Mark Smeaton played a pretty song
And to your chamber came,
With young Sir Henry Norris
And your brother, George Boleyn,
Sir Francis Weston, Brereton,
Would come to dance and sue
Their Courtly Love, but soon it turned
More sinister for you.

Jane Seymour fixed her eye on him,
Your oh, so loving lord,
And he began to wonder why
He'd blessed you with his word,
He asked of Thomas Cromwell
That he snoop, and spy, and bring
Such evidence that he might break
Your marriage bond to him.

Treason! For adultery,
And incest with Boleyn!
You wept and claimed your innocence,
But none were listening.
The men were taken to the tower,
And then to Tower Hill,
The axeman swung his greedy blade
And watched the five heads spill.

But not the axe for you, my Queen,
Your long and slender neck
Was much too fine to butcher,
To receive such scant respect.
They brought a swordsman from Calais,
A Frenchman for the Queen,
A master of his craft, he'd make
One slice, both swift and clean.

And so you tied your dark brown hair
Up high, to bare your neck,
You donned your bright red petticoat
No blood would show on that;
You gave your speech at Tower Green
Then knelt in whispered prayer,
The swordsman stood well back, his sword
Was hidden in the straw.

With one swift, powerful stroke, the blade
Made sure that you were dead,
Your lips still moved in muttered prayer,
Your eyes rolled in your head.
King Henry heard the news while he
Rode gaily, hunting deer,
And thought once of your petticoat...
Then rode to Jane Seymour.

27 May 2008

poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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