When the Manor is burning
The Housekeeper a bald-headed senile
Who search his lost toothless comb in a hurry.
* Since his childhood the orphan waged for the baroness.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Carny Town
(words & music by wise - starr)
Aha-ha hurry, hurry step this way
Aha-ha hurry, hurry step this way
Now the show youre going to see is strictly high class
Therell be ten hoola dancers shaking their grass
So step right up and put your money down
This way to carny town
We got a man so skinny you can see his bones
We play on his ribs like a xylophone
With a pair of spoons we get a rockin song
Youll hear it all, in carny town
Hurry, hurry, hurry, the house is almost full
We got a two headed cow and thats no bull
Theres a man who swallows swords and he never gets hurt
He eats razor blades for dessert
Hes just about the sharpest guy around
Youll see him here, in carny town
Aha-ha hurry, hurry step this way
Aha-ha hurry, hurry step this way
Aha-ha hurry, hurry step this way
Aha-ha hurry, hurry step this way
Aha-ha I say were gonna win
I said hurry up
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wisdom is a comb given to a man once he is bald.
A childhood forgotten, A childhood lost
[NOTE: THIS POEM IS NOT TO BE USED ANYWHERE WITHOUT MY CONCENT. PLEASE USE THE LINKS IN MY BIOGRAPHY OR MESSAGES ON THIS SITE TO CONTACT ME. THANKS.]
I can't remember,
Skipping rocks on the pond,
My childhoods forgotten,
My Childhoods lost,
Going to the lake,
Sitting on the beach,
Playing with friends,
or dancing in the streets,
I can't remember,
The crash in the fog,
My childhood was forgotten,
My childhood was lost,
The doctor doing surgery,
Me getting pills,
I can't remember any of it,
None of it's clear,
I still can't remember,
How it is gone,
My childhood forgotten,
My childhood's lost!
Well I'm gonna end it right now,
I gonna kill myself off,
A childhood Forgotten,
A childhood lost
poem by Dani Baxter
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Experience is the comb that nature gives us when we are bald.
Experience is a comb which nature gives to men when they are bald.
Lost My Childhood
Yes i lost my childhood.
And it will never return.
I lost the innocient life
which i used to live.
I lost the fairy dreams
Which helped me for sound sleep.
Yes i lost toy car which i paddled for long.
i remember those fairy tales my mom told me.
I was a small school kid once,
Yes, I lost those moments.
With every day passing i am losing it
And i know it will never return.
Its true that i miss those days
But thats what i can only do.
I wanted to become big
But i was never aware of this hell.
I lost that laugh, i lost that joy.
I want that childhood again
I want to be a boy.
But all i got is a loss of childhood.
poem by James yardy
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Experience is like a comb that life gives you when you are bald.
quote by Navjot Singh Sidhu
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Falklands thing was a fight between two bald men over a comb.
quote by Jorge Luis Borges
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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AN ORPHAN PARTING(İ f there were no sins..How would be aware of good things)
ı have got enough of everything
life and living
seen everything I had to see
enough and enough
that is enough
now..time is approaching
it is the era and time of parting
do not acquit me
do not bless me
if you want
do not forgive my wrong doings
sins and offenses
cause ı know and ı feel
in fact who is the one offended
born an orphan
grew an orphan
ı will leave this world an orphan
let them share
what I left behind
and remember me
but my poems
I am parting as an orphan
I want to live a new life
if there is one there
may be there
I will be an orphan
my FATHER the GODMetinb SAHİ N
poem by Metin Sahin
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I can't remember
I can't remember,
Skipping rocks on the pond,
My childhood forever gone,
My Childhoods lost,
Going to the lake,
Sitting on the beach,
Playing with friends,
And dancing in the streets,
I can't remember,
The talk I had with dad,
My childhood forever gone,
My childhood was lost,
I still can't remember,
How it is gone,
My childhood forever gone,
My childhood's lost!
By: Demarcus Reynolds
poem by Demarcus Reynolds
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A Boy's Trials
When I was but a little lad
One thing I could not bear,
It was to stand at mother's knee
And have her comb my hair.
They didn't keep boys' hair as short
As it's kept now-a-days,
And mine was always tangled up
In twenty different ways.
I'd twist my mouth and grit my teeth,
And say it wasn't fair-
It was a trial, and no mistake,
When mother combed my hair.
She'd brush and brush each stubborn curl
That grew upon my pate,
And with her scissors nip and clip
To make the edges straight.
Then smooth it down until it shone,
While I would grin and bear,
And feel a martyr through and through,
When mother combed my hair.
She'd take my round chin in her hand
And hold it there the while
She made the parting carefully,
Then tell me with a smile:
'Don't push your cap down on your curls
And spoil my work and care;
He is a pretty little lad
When mother combs his hair.'
I'd hurry out and rumple up
That mop of hair so thick-
A vandal, I, for she had worked
So hard to make it slick-
And wish I were a grown-up man
So nobody would dare
To put a washrag in my ears,
Or comb my tangled hair.
Heigho! now that I'm bald and gray,
Methinks I would be glad
To have her smooth my brow and cheeks,
And whisper, 'Mother's lad!'
A longing for the care-free days
Doth take me unaware;
To stand, a boy, at mother's knee
And have her comb my hair.
poem by Jean Blewett
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Bald-headed Woman
Yeah I dont want no bald headed woman,
Itll make me mean yeah lord itll make me mean,
Yeah I dont want no bald headed woman,
Itll make me mean yeah lord itll make me mean.
Yeah I dont want no sugar in my coffee,
Itll make me mean yeah lord itll make me mean,
Yeah I dont want no sugar in my coffee,
Itll make me mean yeah lord itll make me mean.
Yeah Im traveling on a bald headed mountain,
Ive done my time, Ive done my time,
Yeah Ive been traveling them bald headed mountains,
Ive done my time, Ive done my time,
I said Ive done my time, I done my time.
I said Ive done my time now yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah,
Ive done my time yeah, Ive done my time yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah.
Dont want no bald headed woman baby,
Yeah gonna make me mean, make me mean,
I dont want no bald headed woman,
Thats gonna gonna make me mean make me mean now,
Dont want no sugar in my coffee,
Gonna make me mean, make me mean,
Dont want no sugar in my coffee,
Gonna make me mean, make me mean.
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mocking freedom in cagey avenues?
[Time is a dressmaker specializing in alterations.]-Faith Baldwin
Fallen leaves of Autumn
Covered the old nursery road
and I pick them one by one
into my pushcart!
Nursery was closed for vacation
A squirrel rested on a bench
and the swings were chained?
It's really hard for me to climb
The Post-office hill
with this nagging sciatica pain?
But I have to send this letter
to my faraway unseen friend.
Rusty coins not sufficient
for the postage it seemed
and do they accept my letter
without a stamp?
Anyway I remember the few lines
of my new poem in the letter
and I murmured to myself
on my way back;
'I saw my bald head
in the shattered mirror
and I threw the toothless comb
into the nearby muddy river.'
To my deceased loving Mother!
(Still through your far seeing eyes I see the puzzling life Mom.)
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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All Headed Home!
sundown,
color drenched mountains,
new budding trees
reach out to touch.
just a hint of coolness,
the distant smell of woodsmoke.
people pass in a hurry,
all headed home.
and so we are,
at sundown and waiting.
remembered in color,
forgotten by touch.
hurrying after
a scent in the distance,
all headed home...
all headed home!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Iceberg
Life is a roller coaster that we all ride
Life is a roller coaster that we all ride
Life is a roller coaster that we all ride
Iceberg-Ive fallen in love with an
Iceberg-its only the tip of the
Iceberg-Ive heard that its cool
I got class, I got style
But once in a while out on the town
I must go
Youd better wash out your zone
Watch out you stone bone headed woman
Watch out you bone headed man
Iceberg-its freezin over second avenue
Theres not a thing that you can
Iceberg-its comin over second avenue
Youd better believe theres nothin
You can do about it
I was an orphan and I couldnt help it
Ive been in and out of trouble
Ever since they left me in a basket
On the freeway
Its me thats been doggin your shadow
Its me thats been a shadowin your dog
You got me hung up lock and stock and barrel
Ill always be behind you in the fog
So you better not annoy me
Or Ill do somethin that I might regret
Youd better not annoy me or Ill do
Somethin that you wont forget in a hurry
And I might be back for some sloppy seconds
Youve heard me heavy breathing on the telephone
My word they say that Im belongin
In a home for crazy people
But you know I dont belong there
I was an orphan and I couldnt help it
Id been in and out of trouble
Ever since they left me
In a basket on the freeway
Lie lie lie etc
Die die die etc
Hooray hooray ha ha ha
Hooray ha ha ha
Get down get down get down get down
Theres really not a lot that you can do
Lay down lay down lay down lay down
Theres really not a lot that you can do
Theres really not a lot that you can do
And I might be back for sloppy seconds
Life is a roller coaster that we all ride
Life is a roller coaster that we all ride
Life is a roller coaster that we all ride
Life is a roller coaster that we all ride
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A bald-headed man will not grow hair by getting excited.
No One Is Orphan, If Companion Is In Hearts!
No one is orphan here,
He that may come to your door
to test,
Whether you are orphan without
virtues,
When you have a little kindness to fellow men,
In them may certainly some fill
your heart with their gratitude
and love,
In that them, that Almighty
smiles laughs, O my dear, why you fear,
You are never an orphan,
When I am here to take care of you!
and you one day lived upto me,
And showed that no one can be
orphan, when I dwell in every heart!
And on that day,
not even,
your eyes,
but all your cells,
Comes to tear, Because the happiness of his
warmth we can't bear!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Childhood lost
Lost was my childhood.
Taken from around me from bastards who hurt me.
They were happy playing their games.
Maybe becuase it gave them fame.
All it gave me was pain.
My childhood was lost.
It was taken from me by bastards like you.
As A little girl I was always angry the teachers would say.
If only they knew the truth.
If only they knew why I had so much anger.
It was becuase my childhood was being taken from me.
I never could trust people well after that 9 times.
I hate all of you 5 bastards.
You stole my childhood.
Now later on as I grow older.
It affects me still.
I'm still angry.
My anger has never gone away.
All becuase my childhood was lost too you
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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