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A Truely Norwegian Poem

The Suitor

Uphill I walked it was still dark, had to be at
the farm a five, milking time. Hard westerly
wind makes the climb tough soon the cattle will
be mooing in their pens, the boss grumpy, I’m
hungry and no time to eat; milking eight cows
by hand is no joke. End of the last hill I see
the farm, there is light in the kitchen,

Emma, my dog, barks, stops when she hears my
steps, ten to five, morning light I stop and catch
my breath, they are not going to think that I was
hasting for them I’ll have a quick mug of coffee
a slice of ham, just like any other day, they will
wonder and the maids whisper, but not ask where
and with whom, I spent the night.

poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I am a farmer

I am a farmer
who are up before first light
and I drink my coffee
between the cows in the stable
where milking machines
are doing their thing sucking
and I pour cream into the black.

A few eggs from my own chickens
and sheep chops from the animals
that grazes right over the farm
is great for breakfast.

Later I walk down to the fields
or ride on Umfaan
my Arabic stallion
to see
if the keepers
are tending the cattle
and where they are grazing.

Sometimes I can stay for hours
in the grassland
and look at the bushes
about me
and the serenity
of it all climbs very deep
down into my heart.

I am as strong as the earth
that I love
and help to hack holes
right through iron stones
with a pickaxe
where the new fence
pole after pole
is beginning to stand.

I am pitched into this Africa
just like this
and have nowhere else
to go to
and my hands are hard as rock
from years of work
and years of resistance
against the sun and weather
and I love my farm
and my country.

poem by Gert Strydom
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The Farm

There┬┤s a cockroach in my coffee
There┬┤s a needle in my arm
And I feel like New York City
Get me to the farm

Get me to the farm
Get me to the farm
Somebody get me to the farm

I got terminal uniqueness
I'm an egocentric man
I get caught up in my freakness
But I ain┬┤t no Peter Pan
Get me to the farm

Get me to the farm
Get me to the farm
Get me...

Buckle up straight Jack
Sanity is such a drag
Jellybeam thorazene
Trancendental jet lag

Sanity I ain┬┤t gotta
Feeling like a pinala
Sucker punch-blowin┬┤lung
Motherload-pigeonholed
I'm feeling like I'm gonna explode

I wanna be a Hare Krishna
Tattoo a dot right on my head
And the prozac is my fixer
I am the living dead

Take me to the farm
Take me to the farm
Somebody take me to the farm
Somebody take me to the farm

Take me to the farm
Take me to the farm
Somebody take me to the farm
Somebody take me to the farm

Take me to the farm
Take me to the farm
Take me to the farm...

Take me to the farm
Take me to the farm
Somebody take me to the farm

song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Barn at Willoughby's Farm

I have this recurring nightmare where
I'm wandering round a farm,
It's out in the middle of nowhere, just
A milking shed and a barn,
An ancient tractor sits by the house
But the blinds are pulled and drawn,
And it seems that the farmer left this place
Before Jacinth was born.

But ever I see her stand and wave
As she climbed aboard the bus,
Off for a life of adventure, not
Stuck here, like one of us,
She'd always wanted the country life
Away from the city's swell,
The day that she waved goodbye to us
Was my first real glimpse of hell!

‘Once I've settled, I'll write, ' she said,
‘Or else, there's always the phone;
I'll try to ring on a Friday night
When I'll catch you all at home! '
But she didn't ring, and she didn't write
And a month went by so soon,
She'd left in the middle of March, at night,
And then it was almost June!

I called on out to the agency
The office was next to the zoo,
She said they'd found her a pretty farm
That wanted a Jillaroo,
She'd cook and clean for the family,
And then work out on the farm,
Herding the lowing milkers in
To the milking shed by the barn.

The woman flicked through the client file
In a search for Jacinth's name,
She said, ‘That's strange, I've re-arranged
This file, but just the same,
I have no recollection of this
Girl, whatever she's called,
It could be another agency…'
But I thought the woman stalled!

I went to call at the depot where
The buses were parked at night,
I looked up the owner driver that
I'd seen when Jacinth took flight,
‘I don't remember the girl, ' he said,
‘But March was a fair way back,
She probably went to Willoughby's Farm
On the Strzelecki track.'

My heart sank into my boots at that,
I'd heard of that barren track,
There wasn't a working farm out there
Just bush and the bleak outback,
I packed up the old Toyota Ute
With a jerry can or two,
And headed on up to the Flinders
As I thought she'd want me to.

They hadn't seen her in Lyndhurst
What was left of the old ghost town,
I drove on up to Farina where
The buildings were falling down,
Then by the track on a tyre that sat
At the edge, on a pile of sand,
‘Five miles to Willoughby's Farm', the scrawl
Was writ in a shaky hand.

The farm was ruined and derelict,
The milking shed and the barn,
The tractor sat in a pile of rust
By the house of the ancient farm,
The roof had gone, had fallen in
But the barn was still intact,
And covered in dust by the old barn door
Was Jacinth's haversack.

I pushed the door and it opened up
With a creak of ages past,
I thought of the sweat on the farmer's brow
As he turned away, at the last,
But there in dry, brown dust of the floor
Was a slight but recent mound,
And a shovel leant by the cattle pen
As I fell on my knees, to the ground!

I have this recurring nightmare where
I'm wandering round a farm,
It's out in the middle of nowhere, just
A milking shed and a barn,
And the tears stream in this dreadful dream
To remember the pain and hurt;
With one last look at the haversack,
The shovel bit into the dirt!

15 August,2012

poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You'd Be Better Off

I no more care about what you think,
Than I choose to do it myself.
That's why I don't understand,
Why you go out of your way...
To give your opinion.
When you'd be better off,
Milking cows on a farm...
And feeding a horse hay.
Or giving me fifty dollars to go away.
And if you should go that far to do that...
You know I would agitate until I got more.
Especially when you open up those French doors,
For business like that?
I'd become atrtached like a mole on your back.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Old Macdonald

(words & music by randy starr)
Old macdonald had a farm, ee-i-ee-i-o
And on that farm he had some chicks, ee-i-ee-i-o
With a cluck, cluck here, a cluck, cluck there
Loud as they could be
And when those chicks got out of line
Chicken fricasse
With a cluck, cluck here, a cluck, cluck there
Loud as they could be
And when those chicks got out of line
Chicken fricasse
Well, old macdonald had a farm, ee-i-ee-i-o
And on that farm he had some cows, ee-i-ee-i-o
With a moo, moo here, a moo, moo there
Cattle everywhere
And when those cows got out of line
Hamburger, medium rare
With a moo, moo here, a moo, moo there
Cattle everywhere
And when those cows got out of line
Hamburger, medium rare
Ohh, well, old macdonald had a farm, ee-i-ee-i-o
And on that farm he had some pigs, ee-i-ee-i-o
With an oink, oink here, an oink, oink there
Pigs everywhere in sight
And when those pigs got out of line
Pork and beans at night
With an oink, oink here, an oink, oink there
Pigs everywhere in sight
And when those pigs got out of line
Pork and beans at night
Well Im goona have a farm one day, ee-i-e-i-o
And Ill do things mcdonalds way, ee-i-e-i-o
With a cluck, cluck here, a cluck, cluck there
A moo, moo here, a moo, moo there
An oink, oink here, an oink, oink there
And I can promise you
If those animals ever get out of line
Well have a mulligan stew
How about you?

song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Driving Through the Dark

Travelling for miles, and miles,
Through the dark;
In the distance a flood light appears, upon a hill,
Pulling the old house and barn back together;
Light makes closer.

A small-town street lamp
Goes out,
And the buildings on either side wander away,
In the darkness,
Only to be regathered when the sun arises;
Light makes closer.

Hundreds of billions of miles out
A brilliant star flashes upon the emptiness of night,
While on a dark and still farm
A dog awakes,
Sensing the light, looks up,
Seeking,
See's headlights approaching on a two-lane blacktop,
And watches until we pass,
My car and I -

All of us gathered together,
The immense and the small,
The mobile and the still,
Enjoined into the light;
Here, driving onward through the dark (of life)
Having come far enough
To see,
Only light truly
Makes closer.

(- Light is an understanding,
of things esoteric.)

poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Aint Gonna Work On Maggies Farm No More

(bob dylan)
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
I wake up every morning
Hold my hands and pray for rain
Ive got a head full of ideas
Driving me insane
Its a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor
Well, I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
Well, I aint gonna work for maggies brother no more
I aint gonna work for maggies brother no more
He hands you a nickel
He hands you a dime
He asks you and your friends
If youre having a good time
He blames you every time you slam the door
Well, I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
Well, I aint gonna work for maggies pa no more
I aint gonna work for maggies pa no more
He stubs his cigarette out in your face just for kicks
His bedroom window is made out of bricks
And the national guard are standing at his door
Well, I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
Well, I aint gonna work for maggies mother no more
I aint gonna work for maggies mother no more
She talks to all the servants about man and God and law
And everybody swears shes the brains behind pa
Shes sixty-eight, but claims shes twenty-four
Well, I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
Well, I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
I try so hard to be just who I am
But everybody wants you to be just like them
They say see, while youre playing I get bored ? ?
Well, I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more
I aint gonna work on maggies farm no more

song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Broremann The Farmhand

Broremann, the farmer worker.

Every morning at five thirty sharp, my brother Broremann
had to milk five cows by hand bring bucket full of goodness
to the scullery where maid sifted it and in a churn it went.
He had to start milking Rose first, she was the mother cow
other cows wouldn´t give milk unless he started with her.
After milking Broremann had to clean the barn five cows
make a lot of dung; he pushed it down in a hole in the wall
it was later used to fertilize the land. My brother was proud
of his ability to milk and his hands were, firm yet gentle.
There was a problem though Rose didn´t yield as much milk
as before as she was getting elderly and the farmer sold her
to the knacker’s yard. It was a sad day and the other cows
mooed woefully. The farmer bought a new cow to take Rosa´s
place, but Broremann couldn´t milk her first, as she was new-
comer, so he started with Gerda, now the oldest cow, and milk
the new one last, thus rural peace continued in the cow shed.

poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Me And Grandpa Together?

if grandpa were still alive
he could have scolded me to no end
why at this hour
(it is 11: 30 in the morning)
i have not yet done anything for my life

perhaps like chopping wood or pasturing the carabao
or bringing them in their mud hole and keeping them cool
under shady mango trees

or perhaps i could have been in the farm cutting those weeds
feeding the chickens,
and the pigs, and milking cows
and cleaning the pigsty

or climbing coconut trees and gathering all those nuts
and processing them to copra

all these farm dreams of his for me

he never knew what poetry is.

and if he soon discovers that i am into this craft
i know he will call me again some of my favorite names:

lazy-bone
useless ogre
animal
demon
a mouth to feed
another problem of society
rebel
fool
good-for-nothing
i nfidel
enemy of the church
devil
etcetera

but i might be wrong, grandpa loves me and his only wish is that
i must know how to make our farm the best in the village

the farm that produces the fattest cow
the heaviest pig,
the biggest coconut
the longest corn

i'm hardheaded, very hardheaded

if granpa were alive, i could have set a table for two,
for us, one glass of wine,
under the moon, under the garden
soft winds blowing our hair
in an atmosphere of camaraderie
nothing about sons and fathers or grandpas and grandsons

we'll talk perhaps about women, and poetry and

well, the last but not the least of course, our faith still in God.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ain't Gonna Work On Your Farm No More

I ain’t gonna work on your farm no more
I ain’t gonna scrub all your floors,
I ain’t gonna take all your friends who ignore
what I do when they hide behind doors
where they pay no attention to stuff that I think,
and say, when they pay me a dime,
that I ain’t entitled to spend it on drink,
or ladies who show me good time.
I ain’t gonna work for your children or friends
who preach of the law and the Lord,
and hear all those messages God never sends
to people with who He is bored,
like I am. I ain’t gonna work on your farm,
instead I will write me a song,
and pray that its words will all sound the alarm,
for I expect to be back before long.

Mark Z. Barabak (“He’s Digging ‘Farm, ’” LA Times, June 26,2008) writes that Barack Obama’s favorite Bob Dylan song is “Maggie’s Farm, ” performed in 1995 at the Newport Festival, when he turned electric and never looked back:

I AIN’T GONNA WORK ON MAGGIE’S FARM NO MORE

I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
I wake up every morning
hold my hands and pray for rain
I've got a head full of ideas
driving me insane
It's a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor
well, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more

Well, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more
I ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more
He hands you a nickel
he hands you a dime
He asks you and your friends
if you're having a good time
He blames you every time you slam the door
Well, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more

Well, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's Pa no more
I ain't gonna work for Maggie's Pa no more
He stubs his cigarette out in your face just for kicks
his bedroom window is made out of bricks
And the National Guard are standing at his door
well, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more

Well, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's mother no more
I ain't gonna work for Maggie's mother no more
She talks to all the servants about man and God and law
and everybody swears she's the brains behind Pa
She's sixty-eight, but claim's she's twenty-four
well, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
Well, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more

I try so hard to be just who I am
but everybody wants you to be just like them
They say 'see, while you're playing I get bored'? ?
well, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more

I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more

6/26/08

poem by Gershon Hepner
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Everything Is Not Enough

It doesnt help you if you scream and shout
That isnt what this thing is all about
And do you really want to fight to win
Youre missing out and thats another sin
Your dream of power is a sacrifice
Do you really want to pay that price
Just think about it and youll change the pace
Look in the mirror tell me who do you face
Who is that?
Its everything, everything is not enough
I want it all, thats tough, thats tough, thats tough
Another dream, another dream, another dream goes pop
This is the time, lets stop, lets stop, lets stop
Nobody loves you if you moan all day
So take it easy then youll get your way
You aint no dummy and Im sure you know
You know its better if you let it go
Youre in control if you let it go
Youre feeling better when you let it flow
You never really had to catch the moon
Youre better jumping to another tune
So lets jump
Its everything, everything is not enough
I want it all, thats tough, thats tough, thats tough
Another dream, another dream, another dream goes pop
This is the time, lets stop, lets stop, lets stop
Its everything, everything is not enough
I want it all, thats tough, thats tough, thats tough
Another dream, another dream, another dream goes pop
This is the time, lets stop, lets stop, lets stop (do, do, do it)
Ive got it all but its not enough
I keep thinking boy I feel so rough
This cant be me, Im such a happy guy
I laugh a lot but I want to cry
A cry for help is just letting go
It hurts a lot but I think I know
Its time for change I dont need the hype
Its time for change and the time is ripe
So lets go
Its everything, everything is not enough
I want it all, thats tough, thats tough, thats tough
Another dream, another dream, another dream goes pop
This is the time, lets stop, lets stop, lets stop
Its everything, everything is not enough
I want it all, thats tough, thats tough, thats tough
Another dream, another dream, another dream goes pop
This is the time, lets stop, lets stop, lets stop
Its everything, everything is not enough
I want it all, thats tough, thats tough, thats tough
Another dream, another dream, another dream goes pop
This is the time, lets stop, lets stop, lets stop...

song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Climb That Hill

Something threw me in the dirt
Kinda got my feelings hurt
We was burnin somewhere down the wind
I had to get up and climb that hill again
Little lucys such a doll
Like to climb her garden wall
But she only sees me as a friend
I got to get up and climb that hill again
I gotta bury my pride, drag this line
Over that hill one more time
Gotta get up in the morning, make my way
Over that hill again
I gotta bury my pride, drag this line
Over that hill one more time
Gotta get up in the morning, make my way
Over that hill again
Tempers flare and the words are spoken
You close one door and another opens
You hear the music and youre wondering
You got to get up and climb that hill
Get up and climb that hill
You got to get up and climb that hill again

song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Juniors Farm

You should have seen me with the pocker man,
I had a honey and I bet a grand,
Just in the nick of time I looked at his hand.
I was talking to an eskimo,
Said he was hopping for a fall of snow,
When up popped a sea lion ready to go.
Lets go, lets go, lets go, lets go
Down to juniors farm where I want to lay low,
Low life, high life, oh, lets go,
Take me down to juniors farm.
At te houses of parliament
Evrybodys talking bout the president,
We all chip in for a bag of cement.
Olly hardy should have had more sense,
He bought a gee-gee and he jumped the fence,
All for the sake of a couple of pence.
I took my bag into a grocers store,
The price is higher than the time before,
Old mand asked me why is it more.
I said you should have seen me with the poker man,
I had a honey and I bet a grand,
Just in the nick of time I looked at his hand.
Lets go, lets go, lets go, lets go
Down to juniors farm where I want to lay low,
Low life, high life, oh, lets go,
Take me down to juniors farm,
Lets go, lets go, down to juniors farm where I want to lay low.
Low life, high life, oh, lets go,
Take me down to juniors farm
Evrybody tag along.
Take me down to juniors farm

song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Nun in the Schoolyard

The morning
The morning smile
Her smile
The morning light
The light morning
The light step
The heavy steps around
The passers by
Her smile
A light stop
A smile widens
The river
In her eyes
Lights the dark
The lark
'Good morning'
Sings the morning
Passes by
The night
And many a night
Her smile
Passes by
The sweetest
Unforgetable.

poem by Eman Elbadawi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Cows Rear Leg (Fun Poem 57)

A cowbell sounds for milking time,
a milkmaid on her three-legged stool,
remembering all the time that golden rule.
Never get behind a cows rear leg
as it could give you a nasty bump.

A jet of milk fires into the bucket
as she caresses the utter teats
with her soft hands.
Always watchful and wary
of the cows rear leg.

29 January 2008

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This was a dairy cow, and dairy cows have IDs on them. The ID was traced back to the farm in Washington. It's a dairy farm. And that farm now has been quarantined, and the owners have been very cooperative in doing that.

quote by Ann Veneman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And Here Comes Dark

It's dark outside
But I see the light
Then darkness
I see the light again
And here comes dark

It's dark outside
I am lonely and sad
But I see the light
You ask my name
Then darkness
You take my hand
I see the light again
We fall in love
And here comes dark

It's dark outside
I can't find you
But I see the light
You were right there
Then darkness
I have my doubts
I see the light again
You say I'm wrong
And here comes dark

It's dark outside
I reach for you
But I see the light
You don't reach for me
Then darkness
I feel alone
I see the light again
I read your face
And here comes dark

It's dark outside
I want to leave
But I see the light
You're come to me
Then darkness
I feel your grip
I see the light
You're hurting me
And here comes dark

It's dark outside
I try to scream
But I see the light
You have my throat
Then darkness
I can not breath
I see the light
For the last time
And here comes dark

poem by Yasmin Rubayo
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My parents moved to Los Angeles when I was really young, but I spent every summer with my grandparents, and I'd stay with my grandfather on the farm in Longview. He was retired from the railroad, and he had a small farm with some cows and some pigs. I remember part of my youth was feeding hogs and plowing fields and stuff, so that's a part of me.

quote by Forest Whitaker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Endlessly Yours....

he promised to stop writing
poems,

waste of time he says

he breaks promises he has time to waste

so much time because the words keep coming

and it is giving him

all the pleasures

and when he reads what he had written last night

the following morning

when everyone is still asleep and when the kitchen does not have

any sound

of a fried egg or a whistling pot

he feels the hunger again

and there he is

eating poetry for breakfast

munching the words

chewing what he is in there

brewing

like strong coffee

that soon makes his heart palpitate

like drums

of the natives

recently capturing their first human meal

with all these facts at hand
how can he ever stop?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dont Let The Sun Catch You Crying

Dont let the sun catch you crying
The nights the time for your tears
Your heart may be broken tonight
But tomorrow in the morning light
Dont let the sun catch you crying
The night-time shadows disappear
And with them go all your tears
But the morning will bring joy
For every girl and boy, so
Dont let the sun catch you crying
They say that cryings not a bad thing
But stop your crying when the birds sing
It may be hard to discover
That youve been left for another
But dont forget that loves a game
And it can always, always come again
So, dont let the sun catch you crying
Dont let the sun catch you crying
Oh, no, no, no, no

song performed by by Gloria Estefan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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