En.Citatepedia^®.ro

0260 You couldn't make it up if you tried..

Your box of brand-new football boots
this European season, where the diktat from Brussels sprouts hurhur,
will bear the helpful message
'Average contents: two'...

but when you've picked yourself off the floor
consider this: three boots in a box (great film title)
would be a box with not much inside left geddit hurhur;

but if you tried to sue the makers who only packed one
on that cautionary statement, you wouldn't
have a leg to stand on.

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Boots

INFANTRY COLUMNS

We're foot--slog--slog--slog--sloggin' over Africa --
Foot--foot--foot--foot--sloggin' over Africa --
(Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again!)
There's no discharge in the war!

Seven--six--eleven--five--nine-an'-tw enty mile to-day --
Four--eleven--seventeen--thirty-two the day before --
(Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again!)
There's no discharge in the war!

Don't--don't--don't--don't--look at what's in front of you.
(Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again);
Men--men--men--men--men go mad with watchin' em,
An' there's no discharge in the war!

Try--try--try--try--to think o' something different --
Oh--my--God--keep--me from goin' lunatic!
(Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again!)
There's no discharge in the war!

Count--count--count--count--the bullets in the bandoliers.
If--your--eyes--drop--they will get atop o' you!
(Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again) --
There's no discharge in the war!

We--can--stick--out--'unger, thirst, an' weariness,
But--not--not--not--not the chronic sight of 'em --
Boot--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again,
An' there's no discharge in the war!

'Taint--so--bad--by--day because o' company,
But night--brings--long--strings--o' forty thousand million
Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again.
There's no discharge in the war!

I--'ave--marched--six--weeks in 'Ell an' certify
It--is--not--fire--devils, dark, or anything,
But boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again,
An' there's no discharge in the war!

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Forever in Boots

Swimming costume, bib and tucker
Stonewashed jeans or three-piece suits
Never going to be, a tidy looker
I am the man, forever in boots

Funerals, parties or weddings
Working days or evening pursuits
Planting flowers in their beddings
I am the man, forever in boots

I want to be forever in boots
I wear boots on land or sea
I can be a miserable old coot
If you hide my boots from me

In the ring wearing boxing boots
On a horse in my riding boots
At the riverside in Wellington boots
Happy to be the man, forever in boots

Man forever in boots
Seeks woman, to be his puss in boots
For country hikes, in walking boots
Eternal happiness, both; forever in boots

poem by Michael Micmac Mccrory
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Spanish Boots

(beck, stewart, wood)
I used to work and take a salary
In a hole up near a foundry
But it did not take me too long
To get my boots on a so long!
Long spanish boots on a so long!
I took a day job in bethlehem
I nearly threw in the towel then
But it did not take me too long
To get my boots on a so long!
High spanish boots on a so long!
Dig it
I took a spanish haberdashery
Restored with 15th century tapestry
But oh, mr. nesbitt got the best of me
So I strapped on my boots and said so long!
Laced up my high boots and so long!
Goodbye
... am on a job you see
cause my old boots they mean too much to me
Leather boots are just a mystery
Put on my boots and said so long!
High spanish boots on and so long!
Put on my boots and said so long!
Those old spanish boots
Put on my boots and said so long!
High spanish boots

song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two Little Boots

TWO little boots all rough an' wo',
Two little boots!
Laws, I's kissed 'em times befo',
Dese little boots!
Seems de toes a-peepin' thoo
Dis hyeah hole an' sayin' 'Boo!'
Evah time dey looks at you —
Dese little boots.
Membah de time he put 'em on,
Dese little boots;
Riz an' called fu' 'em by dawn,
Dese little boots;
Den he tromped de livelong day,
Laffin' in his happy way,
Evaht'ing he had to say,
'My little boots!'
Kickin' de san' de whole day long,
Dem little boots;
Good de cobblah made 'em strong,
Dem little boots!
Rocks was fu' dat baby's use,
I'on had to stan' abuse
W'en you tu'ned dese champeens loose
Dese little boots!
Ust to make de ol' cat cry,
Dese little boots;
Den you walked it mighty high,
Proud little boots!
Ahms akimbo, stan'in' wide,
Eyes a-sayin' 'Dis is pride!'
Den de manny-baby stride!
You little boots.
Somehow, you don' seem so gay,
Po' little boots,
Sence yo' ownah went erway,
Po' little boots!
Yo' bright tops don' look so red,
Dese brass tips is dull an' dead;
'Goo'-by,' whut de baby said;
Deah little boots!
Ain't you kin' o' sad yo'se'f,
You little boots?
Dis is all his mammy's lef',
Two little boots.
Sence huh baby gone an' died,
Heav'n itse'f hit seem to hide
Des a little bit inside
Two little boots.

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Neutered Boots

Neutered Boots,
Looked at me as if I knew...
The agony of losing,
Jewels once cherished.
Like a bonding of a maleness,
Had been sliced and diced.
And I was petting him gently...
Just trying to be nice.

But Boots had never been kneed,
In the groin.
Or have an affection wished dismissed,
By someone close Boots had lived with.

Boots is a kitten!
He'll get over it.
However...
Not too many other cats,
Will come to appreciate...
Where Boots is at.
And Boots will have to learn that...
On his own!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Boots

I found a pair of boots upon the street
So I took them home to wear on my feet
I washed them I cleaned them and I aired them out
So I could put them all later when I would walk about.
I put my new boots on, and I walked down the road
They seemed so very sturdy to carry my heavy load
Then they took me places where I have never been
I could tell that these boots were very well broken in.
They felt so very soft and comfortable upon my feet
How excited I was for my new boots others would see.
And when I did my walk many persons just stared
As they looked at my new boots but I really never cared.
Maybe they too just wanted boots just like mine
But this one thing I knew they were hard for me to find.
I had so much fun with my brand new pair of boots
We walked everywhere they placed me in a happy mood
And the longer that I walked still no pain did I feel
I was excited and content my life became so surreal.
So it started to get late so I decided to walk home
So that's were we head just me and my boots alone
And then when I took them off I placed them beside my bed
So I could be ready for my next journey or adventure ahead.
I wore those boots of mine for many, many years
They always felt so comfortable never brought me any tears
I would wash them and clean them and polish them too
Now they were always mine and they always looked brand new.
Then one day I wore another pair of shoes when I went out
I left my old boots home alone so they could air out
So myself and my new shows were gone most of the day
As I had errands to run and also many bills to pay.
But sadly when I got home I was taken by surprise
My boots were stolen and that brought tears to my eyes
I thought to myself who would steal those old boots of mine
Boots that have been worn and used who would commit that crime.
So I went out and bought so many different pairs of shoes
And none are that old as they are all seemingly brand new
I still go for my walks and I still go to town and all about
My feet are so much happier now I myself with joy wanna shout
But every now and then I think about those boots I once wore
The ones I found on the street and I never bought in the store
I wonder now if they are ragged and torn and beyond repair
But that's someone else problem now, so why would I care.

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
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Big Boots

(words & music by wayne - edwards)
They call your daddy big boots
And big boots is his name
It takes a big man to wear big boots
Thats your daddys claim to fame
They know your daddy big boots
Wherever soldiers are
cause he can handle an armored tank
Just like a kiddy can
So sleep little soldier
Dont you cry
Loo loo loo loo
Loo loo loo
General sandmans soon coming by
Loo loo loo loo
Loo loo loo
Im gonna tell you a little secret
You wont believe its true
Did you know your
Daddy big boots
Once wore little boots like you

song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Daddy's Working Boots

(Dolly Parton)
My dear hard workin' daddy works his life away for us
That's the way that daddy shows to us his love
And Daddy's two hard working hands
They're callous and they're sore
And Daddy's workin' boots have walked a million miles or more
As long as I remember, I remember Daddy workin'
Workin' on the job or either on the farm
Tryin' to provide for the family that he loves
And Daddy's working boots have taken many steps for us
Chorus:
Daddy's workin' boots have served as his foundation
Though just like him, they're tired and worn
For years they've helped him stand
Daddy's working boots have filled their obligation
They've walked that rocky road with a mighty, mighty man
Dear lord above, I know up there my Daddy's got a mansion
And a great reward that's long been overdue
And when it comes my Daddy's time to be with you in heaven
Spoken:
Won't cha let him walk your golden streets
In a pair of brand new golden boots
Repeat Chorus
Daddy's workin' boots

song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Average Guy

I aint no christian or no born again saint
I aint no cowboy or marxist d.a.
I aint no criminal or reverend cripple from the right
I am just your average guy, trying to do whats right
Im just your average guy
An average guy
I am just your average guy
Im just an average guy
Average guy, Im just your average guy
Im average looking and Im average inside
Im an average lover and I live in an average place
You wouldnt know me if you met me face to face
Im just your average guy
Average guy
Average guy
Im just an average guy
I worry about money and taxes and such
I worry that my livers big and it hurts to the touch
I worry about my health and bowels
And the crime waves in the street
Im really just your average guy
Trying to stand on his own two feet
Im just your average guy
Im just your average guy
Im just your average guy
Average guy
Average looks, average taste
Average height, an average waist
Average in everything I do
My temperature is 98.2
Im just your average guy
An average guy
Average guy
Im just an average guy
Average guy
Im just your average guy
Im just your average guy
Im just your average guy
Average

song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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These Boots

Solo-poland
You keep saying you got something for me
Something you call love, but I call sex
Youve been kissing when you ought-a-be-a
Screwing and now someone else can
Kiss your ass
These boots are made for walking
Thats just what theyll do
And one of these days these boots
Are gonna walk all over you
Solo-poland
You keep lieing and there aint no believing
And you keep stayin when you ought-a-be-a leaving
Now whats right is right but you aint been
Right yet
These boots...
Solo-poland
You keep dressin ways you shouldnt
Be dressing
And you keep thinking that youll never
Get burned ha!
I just found me a brand new box spring
Mattress
What you know bitch you got a lot ta learn
These boots... are you ready boots
Solo-poland
And you think Im kiddin, dontchya!

song performed by by Megadeth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0030 Breasts

I’ve only got to say the word…and
I can hear the male murmur murmur right now
mixed with a hurhur hurhur as of naughty boys…
suddenly lips and fingers have their vivid, hungry memories…
while ladies have their own reactions
not unaware of the murmur hurhur and the fact
that some men think they own these, ungifted, as of right…

and some of us, perforce, have memories as intimate,
loving, detailed, at our fingertips:
the years that once a day or twice
I took the soothing cream and powder,
and with such respect and love and courtesy
washed as gently as I could,
dab-dried with even more light a touch,
lifting those still heavy and magnificent creations, then
with first the cream and then the powder
traced with so careful finger, the sweaty sores
that brassiere and human warmth had made
under the milky skin, lightly veined in blue,
the other hand shifting their tender, surprising weight
to make the task so perfect,
all the while listening carefully for
that slight intake of breath that meant that pain
was a necessary factor in this task…

and those days of delicate comedy
when I sought with such care among the women’s stores
seeking out the older assistants, prefacing
my potentially kinky or erotic request, they might think,
with reasons: the sores, the preference for front-fastening,
the possibilities of sleep-bras which however
failed to hold those splendid orbs…
the sports bras which might be too tight –
I could have made a career of it…

and when you died, at a hundred years and two,
the skin unblemished, smooth, unwrinkled
on your back and round those lovely breasts
I’m left with that strange, unasked treasure – love beyond desire,
And fingers full of memories of care.

poem by Michael Shepherd
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These Boots Are Made For Walking

You keep saying you got something for me
Something you call love but confess
Youve been amessin where you shouldnt ve been amessin
And now someone else is getting all your best
Well, these boots are made for walking, and thats just what theyll do
One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you
You keep lyin when you oughta be truthin
You keep losing when you oughta not bet
You keep samin when you oughta be achangin
Whats right is right but you aint been right yet
These boots are made for walking, and thats just what theyll do
One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you
Leadbreak
You keep playing where you shouldnt be playing
And you keep thinking that youll never get burnt (hah)
Well, Ive just found me a brand new box of matches (yeah)
And what he knows you aint had time to learn
These boots are made for walking, and thats just what theyll do
One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you
Spoken
Are you ready, boots?
Start walkin

song performed by by Geri Halliwell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm A Fan

It’s football season again
I hope my team does well this year
Football season again
I’m a fan

It’s football season again
Spread that ball across the field
Football season again
I’m a fan

Through the cold and the rain
I’ll be there at the game
A voice screaming to be heard
I’ll cry sometimes, sometimes I’ll smile
As my voice echoes through the crowd
I’m a fan, I’m a fan, I’m a fan

It’s football season again
I hope my team does well this year
Football season again
I’m a fan

It’s football season again
Tackle hard and play it fair
Football season again
I’m a fan

And at the end of the year
We’ll be dressed in the gear
As they turn to salute the crowd
And we’ll stand with pride
‘Cause they’re our side
And we’ll sing their praises loud
We’re the fans, We’re the fans, We’re the fans

Copyright Colin Coplin 2004 / 2010

poem by Colin Coplin
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An Ode

WHAT boots it to be great?
To live in royal state
And feast with kings,
Since now all things
One doom await?
5
What boots it to be fair?
Sweet eyes and golden hair,
And youthful bloom,
Since in the tomb
All foulness there?
10
To live in royal state—
That is not to be great;
Sweet eyes and golden hair—
That is not to be fair.
What is it to be great?
15
Content with thine estate;
To serve thy God and King
In everything—
That is it to be great.
What is it to be fair?
20
Sweet modesty to wear;
To keep thine honour sure,
Thy bosom pure—
That is it to be fair.
Much boots it to be great,
25
Much boots it to be fair.

poem by Frederick George Scott
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July 1 2009***Giving His Boots a Rest

He is resting
In a comfortable Library chair
With his boots and jacket on
His backpack is nearby

He's reading today's paper
And has three plastic covered
Magazines stacked on the floor
To read next

He's in from the cold and rain
He's in where it's warm and dry
He's been to the men's room to
Wash himself and his socks and shorts

Wrapped in a plastic bag
He'll dry them later
Now he's trying to get his boots to dry
They're damp and well worn

They are not worn out
Just like him
They are well worn
They've covered many miles

He's worked in them
He's slept in them
To keep warm and to see
That they are not stolen

Where do you put your shoes at night?
Under you bed? In your closet?
It's been a long time
Since he's had either

How do you
Keep your feet from freezing
In the long hard-frost winter nights?
How do you keep warm?

If you'd never had to worry
You wouldn't appreciate
The warm dry Library chair
That gives his boots a rest

poem by Tom J. Mariani
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Boots

When I got out of bed this morning
a pair of boots stood on the stairs.
I don’t know to whom they belonged
or how they happened to be there.

The black boots looked large and heavy,
slightly worn, so not new or old.
The laces were long and tucked inside
and the tongue had a forward fold.

They looked really soft and comfortable,
and I couldn’t resist trying them on.
They slipped onto my feet oh so easily,
and in an instant I was up and gone.

I couldn’t do anything to stop them,
they had taken control of me.
I ran all through the day and night,
with no breakfast, dinner or tea.

I was totally exhausted and tired,
and was running in my sleep.
I awoke running along a forest path
and then up a hill so steep.

I could hear the sound of water
and ran down the riverbank.
The water wasn’t going to give way,
so I very quickly sank.

As I continued along the pebbly bottom
I very quickly ran out of breath.
My feet came out of the sodden boots
and I swam from the water’s depth.

I suppose those boots are still running
and they’re probably now out at sea.
I know that I’ll never again try on boots
that don’t belong to me.

poem by Orlando Belo
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Poor Thyrsus!

Poor Thyrsis! What boots it to weep out thine eyes?
Thy kid was a fair one, I own:
But the wolf with his cruel claw made her his prize,
And to darkness her spirit hath flown.
Do the dogs cry? What boots it? In spite of their cries
There is left of her never a bone.

poem by Theocritus
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Leather Boots

Leather boots poundin' the floor
Black and shiny kickin' the door
The police, hit the streets
They would never take the boots off of their feet
If I break the law and get caught
I could get smashed in the face
By the big boys
'Cause they're frightened by the real world
Frightened by the real world
Scared of the real world.
Oh yeah.
I saw a cop, he looked pretty shot
By some criminals, left there to rot
I took a look, no one around
I put on his boots and stomped on the ground
Stood tall and felt so strong
I wanted to be just like them
So I could hurt somebody
Hurt somebody
Hurt somebody, hurt somebody
Scared of the real world.
Oh yeah.
Scared of the real world.
Oh yeah.
Don't litter or score in the dark
Don't kill your lover and don't overpark
Cause if you murder or if you loot
Get the heel of my new leather boots
If I break the law and get caught
You could get smashed in the face
By this young boy
Who is frightened by the real world
This boy is frightened by the real world
I gonna hurt somebody
'Cause I'm frightened of the real world.
Oh yeah

song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who's Bed Have Your Boots Been Under

Whose bed have your boots been under?
And whose heart did you steal I wonder?
This time did it feel like thunder, baby?
Whose bed have your boots been under?
Don't look so lonely
Don't act so blue
I know I'm not the only
Girl you run to
I know about Lolita
Your little Spanish flame
I've seen you around with Rita
The redhead down the lane
Whose bed have your boots been under?
And whose heart did you steal I wonder?
This time did it feel like thunder, baby?
And who did you run to?
And whose lips have you been kissin'?
And whose ear did you make a wish in?
Is she the one that you've been missin', baby?
Well whose bed have your boots been under?
I heard you've been sneakin'
Around with Jill
And what about that weekend
With Beverly Hill
And I've seen you walkin'
With long legs Louise
And you weren't just talkin'
Last night with Denise
Whose bed have your boots been under?
And whose heart did you steal I wonder?
This time did it feel like thunder, baby?
And who did you run to?
And whose lips have you been kissin'?
And whose ear did you make a wish in?
Is she the one that you've been missin', baby?
Well whose bed have your boots been under?
Come on boots...
So next time you're lonely
Don't call on me
Try the operator
Maybe she'll be free
Whose bed have your boots been under?
And whose heart did you steal I wonder?
This time did it feel like thunder, baby?
And who did you run to?
And whose lips have you been kissin'?
And whose ear did you make a wish in?
Is she the one that you've been missin', baby?
Well whose bed have your boots been under?
I wanna know whose bed, baby
Whoa baby, tell me
Whose bed, yes I wanna know
You better start talkin'
Or you better start walkin

song performed by by Shania Twain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All Of Heavens Mine

Please don't mourn
My body on earth
Cause I wouldn't trade
For all the wealth and worth

My body was a capsule
That held my soul
For now I'm brand new
And completely whole

If you should cry
Cry tears of joy
For I'm like a kid
With a brand new toy

All of Heavens mine
At my feet
So don't mourn for me
Or what you've seen

All I ask
All my friends
Please find Jesus
So you can enter in

This great big Heaven
Made for all
With fields forever
To play football

It's like a place
You've never been
And on God's team
You always win

*This is in memory of: Jessie Johnson 5/21/04
He was 16, played football with my son for their
high school. He drowned. He was a good kid, but
best of all he knew the Lord! *

poem by Lagaya Evans
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