Disgrace There Is No Escape
Disgrace, there is no Escape.
There was this Norwegian, a gifted violinist he had won prizes in Moscow
and Warsaw, His debut was held in Oslo community hall, yes, the same
place the Nobel committee glad hands peace prizes to the mostly unworthy.
He played an Edward Grieg piece. Everything went well the public gasped
at his ability, then an accident, his trousers fell down, he wore pink lady
knickers. A shocked silence, then a titter, but soon laughter rolled around
the hall. The unlucky fiddler stopped playing couldn’t understand way
the audience laughed, till he looked down, saw his trousers rest on his shoes.
He tried to pull up his pants, lost his violin, stumbled and fell. The laughter
was merciless and never ending. He fled the country as a second cook on
ship bound for Argentina. There he got a job as a cowhand on a ranch in
the deepest pampas and grew a beard. Two years later thinking all was
behind him a newcomer came to the ranch, looked at the violinist and said:
” aren’t you the bloke who lost his trousers? ”
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Related quotes
I have *PRIDE* in myself
I tripped
I fell
Into a massive dirty puddle
I ran home embarressed
I accidently ripped my trousers
on the back
my pink hearted pants were showing
I ran to the toilets in shame
My bag broke and fell on the floor
All my books flew everywhere
and I had to chase them
I lowered my head in disbelieve
But still I have pride in myself
the next day I came to school smiling
I walked around the puddle
I wore shorts under my new trousers
And I got a new bag
Today was the day that I got to
walk with my head held high and a massive
grin across my face
I still have pride in myself
poem by MeganOlivia Maxwell
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Texas
Texas.
Texas was for me a magic word, to be a cowboy, herd cattle
and in the evening, ride into town and sort out the baddies.
Mind I wanted to be a sheriff, but first I had to learn, how to
use a lasso. I jumped my ship in Houston, took a bus inland.
As light fell I saw a big ranch the bus stopped and let me off.
I knocked on a door told the rancher I wanted to be a cowboy.
He gave me t. bone steak and let me sleep in the bunk house.
At dawn the sheriff was there to take me back to Houston.
He wore Stetson and let me wear it till we reached the docks
and I had to go onboard, to cook lunch for the hungry crew.
When asked where I had been, I said I had visited my uncle
who has a ranch at a place called Panhandle.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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A Naked Ape!
Imagine if a Llama wore pajamas
or a Leopard put a cap upon his head.
Just think about a kangaroo in trousers
or a sheep all shorn in little skirt and vest.
Most animals would look a tad alarming
in any sort of formal wear or cloth,
but take a human being wearing nothing
now that would be quite shocking at the shops.
Imagine you or I, all bare and naked,
no underwear, no trousers and no socks.
Our faces would turn pink to think about it
but a monkey really couldn't give a toss.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Wot a Pair
I waz walking down Wyefront street
When me trousers ran away,
I waz feeling incomplete
But still me trousers would not stay,
When I found where they had gone
De pair addressed me rather blunt,
And they told me they were sick of being put on
Back to front.
I told dem I would treat dem good
And wear dem back to back,
I promised dem protection
From a friend who is a mac,
Me trousers did not believe a single word I had to say,
And me underpants were laughing
When me trousers ran away.
poem by Benjamin Zephaniah
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Soily
People gathered here tonight,
I want you to listen to me!
To your left and to you right,
Youve got some pretty soily company.
Reader, writer, farmer, priest,
Breed controler, born deceased.
Indian, lawyer, doctor, dog,
And a plumber with a fattened hog.
Soily, soily,
The cat in satin trousers said its oily.
Soily, soily,
The cat in satin trousers said its oily,
You know hes right.
Romans, italians, country men,
I want you to listen to me!
Ive said it twice and Ill say it again,
Weve got some pretty soily company.
Liar, cheater, jungle chief,
Saint, believer on relief.
Action painter, hitlers son,
And a commie with a tommy gun.
Soily, soily,
The cat in satin trousers said its oily.
Soily, soily,
The cat in satin trousers said its oily,
Oh yeah, yeah, yeah.
Soily, soily,
The cat in satin trousers said its oily.
Soily, soily,
The cat in satin trousers said its oily.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Snap (Fun Poem 125)
Woke up and had a shower
felt great and refreshed,
laid my clothes out
and started to get dressed.
Dragged on my trousers
and then pulled on my belt.
Snap!
I stood there with half a belt in my hand
and my trousers around my ankles.
Now I need a length of string
to hold my trousers up.
Looks like it gonna be
a new belt day today.
(7 July 2011)
poem by David Harris
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Vegetable Man
In yellow shoes I get the blues
Though I walk the streets with my plastic feet
With my blue velvet trousers, make me feel pink
Theres a kind of stink about blue velvet trousers
In my paisley shirt I look a jerk
And my turquoise waistcoat is quite out of sight
But oh oh my haircut looks so bad
Vegetable man how are you?
So Ive changed my dear, and I find my knees,
And I covered them up with the latest cut,
And my pants and socks all point in a box,
They dont make long of my nylon socks,
The watch, black watch
My watch with a black face
And a big pin, a little hole,
And all the lot is what I got,
Its what I wear, its what you see,
It must be me, its what I am,
Vegetable man.
Ive been looking all over the place for a place for me,
But it aint anywhere, it just aint anywhere.
Vegetable man, vegetable man,
Hes the kind of person, you just gonna see him if you can,
Vegetable man.
song performed by by Pink Floyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Baggy Trousers
Naughty boys in nasty schools
Headmasters breaking all the rules
Having fun and playing fools
Smashing up the woodwork tools
All the teachers in the pub
Passing round the ready-rub
Trying not to think of when
The lunch-time bell will ring again.
Oh what fun we had
But, did it really turn out bad
All I learnt at school
Was how to bend not break the rules
Oh what fun we had
But at the time it seemed so bad
Trying different ways
To make a difference to the days.
Headmasters had enough to-day
All the kids have gone away
Gone to fight with next-doors school
Every term, that is the rule
Sits alone and bends his cane
Same old backsides again
All the small ones tell tall tales
Walking home and squashing snails.
Oh what fun we had
But, did it really turn out bad
All I learnt at school
Was how to bend not break the rules
Oh what fun we had
But at the time it seemed so bad
Trying different ways
To make a difference to the days.
Lots of girls and lots of boys
Lots of smells and lots of noise
Playing football in the park
Kicking pushbikes after dark
Baggy trousers, dirty shirt
Pulling hair and eating dirt
Teacher comes to break it up
Back of the ead with a plastic cup.
Oh what fun we had
But, did it really turn out bad
All I learnt at school
Was how to bend not break the rules
Oh what fun we had
But at the time it seemed so bad
Trying different ways
To make a difference to the days.
Baggy trousers, baggy trousers, baggy trousers
Baggy trousers, baggy trousers, baggy trousers
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Boyhood
Boyhood Remembered
Mother and her sister played poker when I came out of the bedroom looking
for my trousers, but mother had just lost them to Aunt Gabriella who refused
to give them back. I sat by the coal fire and warmed my knees; winter with frost
roses on windows. Without long trousers I could not go to school, the idea of this
pleased me, I began reading a Robin Hood book. I didn’t care so much for him,
he was in love with a girl, but I liked the other ones in his gang. “Here, ” mother
said, “I have won back your trousers, your shoes as well; go to school now.” I was
going to take the bike out of the shed, but a monster rat sat there.
” Mother” I yelled, “There is a big rat in the shad it is eating the tires off my bike.”
Mother dropped the cat out of the window, from our third floor flat, just caught it.
“Put the cat in the shed, ” walk to school, it is good for you biking makes you lazy.”
My sister came with a crate of beer she had bought at the supermarket, ” you are
just like little girl frighten by a tiny rat, ” she said, took the bike out, put the dazed
cat on top of the crate and walked in. I was one hour late for school, but there was
no use telling the teacher why, he would only say I was telling tales as usual.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Cloony The Clown
I'll tell you the story of Cloony the Clown
Who worked in a circus that came through town.
His shoes were too big and his hat was too small,
But he just wasn't, just wasn't funny at all.
He had a trombone to play loud silly tunes,
He had a green dog and a thousand balloons.
He was floppy and sloppy and skinny and tall,
But he just wasn't, just wasn't funny at all.
And every time he did a trick,
Everyone felt a little sick.
And every time he told a joke,
Folks sighed as if their hearts were broke.
And every time he lost a shoe,
Everyone looked awfully blue.
And every time he stood on his head,
Everyone screamed, 'Go back to bed!'
And every time he made a leap,
Everybody fell asleep.
And every time he ate his tie,
Everyone began to cry.
And Cloony could not make any money
Simply because he was not funny.
One day he said, 'I'll tell this town
How it feels to be an unfunny clown.'
And he told them all why he looked so sad,
And he told them all why he felt so bad.
He told of Pain and Rain and Cold,
He told of Darkness in his soul,
And after he finished his tale of woe,
Did everyone cry? Oh no, no, no,
They laughed until they shook the trees
With 'Hah-Hah-Hahs' and 'Hee-Hee-Hees.'
They laughed with howls and yowls and shrieks,
They laughed all day, they laughed all week,
They laughed until they had a fit,
They laughed until their jackets split.
The laughter spread for miles around
To every city, every town,
Over mountains, 'cross the sea,
From Saint Tropez to Mun San Nee.
And soon the whole world rang with laughter,
Lasting till forever after,
While Cloony stood in the circus tent,
With his head drooped low and his shoulders bent.
And he said,'THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT -
I'M FUNNY JUST BY ACCIDENT.'
And while the world laughed outside.
Cloony the Clown sat down and cried.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Ticklish Tom
Did you hear 'bout Ticklish Tom?
He got tickled by his mom.
Wiggled and giggled and fell on the floor,
Laughed and rolled right out the door.
All the way to school and then
He got tickled by his friends.
Laughed till he fell off his stool,
Laughed and rolled right out of school
Down the stairs and finally stopped
Till he got tickled by a cop.
And all the more that he kept gigglin',
All the more folks kept ticklin'.
He shrieked and screamed and rolled around,
Laughed his way right out of town.
Through the country down the road,
He got tickled by a toad.
Past the mountains across the plain,
Tickled by the falling rain,
Tickled by the soft brown grass,
Tickled by the clouds that passed.
Giggling, rolling on his back
He rolled on the railroad track.
Rumble, rumble, whistle, roar-
Tom ain't ticklish any more.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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For Posterity
He fell backwards into quick drying cement.
It was something that he hadn’t meant
to do. For his trousers started setting fast,
and ended up looking like a plaster cast.
A stonemason was found to chip away
at this solid mass of clayey grey.
His legs were feeling not quite his own.
He felt like a statue carved from stone.
Finally his limbs were at last released.
His trousers, surprisingly, were not creased.
Two buttock shapes were in concrete created
Something that made him feel very deflated.
For nobody else with any temerity. could say,
Their posterior was preserved for posterity, this way.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Daddy
(reba mcentire)
My daddy is a rancher
Hes wrangled cattle dang near all his life
He also liked to rodeo
He traveled around with four kids and a wife
Well his old ranch is rocky
But his ropes sail smooth for several years
He worked real hard
And roped real good
And tried to get his ranch out in the clear
He didnt want us kids to rodeo
He wanted more out of life for us
Maybe banking, or a lawyer
Or maybe even driving some old bus
Well thats when we took up singing
And his pride grew greater day by day
And I know his eyes grew misty
The night I sang up on the opry stage
Chorus:
Now his ranch is so much bigger
The the days when he first started
The grass grows now where none used to be
His roping got him started
Cattle prices made it better
And hes trying to get his ranch out in the clear
Five years ago september, he bought more steers and hung up all his
Ropes
But he often tells the stories about the rodeos he won and cowboy jokes
Well its funny that the first big roping that he won some thirty years
Ago
Was the same day that I sang on the stage of the grand old opry show
Repeat chorus
Now hes feeding cattle
Toting hay
And branding the y.o.
And his hired hands there to help him
And she also cooks their meals when they get home
They built their ranch together
And listening to the kids sing through the years
Well they worked real hard and roped real good and now they got their
Ranch
Out in the clear
Because when a family works together
They finally get their ranch out in the clear
Out in the clear
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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a burst of laughter
the old pant zip works well
for her trousers
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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A Piece Of You
Im just trying to live this life of mine
The more I look, the more Im blind
And all I ask for is piece of mind
And all I want is a piece of you
Well I lost my way today
Back home from work
The snow fell like dust
I felt like dirt
Happens everytime I start to search
For that long lost piece of you
A piece of you
A piece of you
A piece of you
It seems the last time I was sure
Of anything
I sold my heart
I wore your ring
But now, the queen has lost her king
All I want is a piece of you
A piece of you
A piece of you
A piece of you
song performed by by Veruca Salt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mario's Pants
I wrote this one for a Friend who now lives in Belgium. She teaches English to Foreign students. One day A student walked in with 'Purple' trousers. Prompting this.....
For the younger ones amongst us
I’ll take you on a trip
Where flower power was the fashion
And beehives made you “Hip”
This came back in an instant
When Mario walked in
With his purple drainpipe trousers
So allow me to begin
Teddy boys and rockers
Were looked upon as thugs
And Mods rode round on scooters
while Hippies played with drugs
Put your hand into your pocket
And look out for a knob
And turn the volume down please
I need to do my job
To say they’re on the little
LOUD side for us all
Is a massive understatement
So I had to make the call
Now all I see is purple
All I think is “Purple rain”
And purple headed trouser snakes
I’m at it once again!
So Mario I thank you
For the memory of the past
You may be first as lovers
But as trend setters, you’re last!
poem by Simon Gowen
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Feline dreamy for M'lady Ernestine
Once upon a Tuesday morning,
it was early, day was dawning.
I looked outside to see
what kind of day t’was going to be.
Dearie me, oh fancy that,
there I saw a dancing cat.
This was very strange to see,
no one saw it, only me.
A twist, a glide, a pirouette,
it was a sight I shan’t forget
Dancing, prancing leaping high,
he danced alone beneath the sky.
A brilliant scarlet shirt he wore,
of finest silk from Bangalore.
His dancing shoes of patent leather
fit only for the finest weather.
His trousers were of forest green,
quite the tightest I had ever seen
Dearie me, oh fancy that
on his head was a bowler hat.
As he danced ‘twas plain to see
he was dancing just for me.
He stopped and gave a little bow,
and vanished with a single meow
I woke in bed I’m sad to say
that this had been my mind at play.
Things aren’t always what they seem
it was a lovely, lovely dream.
Poeticpiers
random selection
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Laughter
The laughter in your heart
Would melt a melting pot
Would rise a sunken ship
Save a lady in distress
Lead the lost to find their way
Cause pain to go away
Your laughter
Is my laughter
Your heart, my heart
Two risen ships
Of ladies of lost
From laughter of pain
Let us unite these good things
poem by Cynthia Yildirim
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Once Upon A Time In America
It was a cold January morning,
all around looked a bit boring.
In Washington’s subway
was the beginning of the ordinary day.
Everyone was in a hurry,
they didn’t want to worry
and didn’t pay attention
to the man I would like here to mention.
The passer-bys didn’t clap
to the man wearing jeans and baseball cap.
They all looked at the clock,
so that to get in time for their work.
It was not a tradition
to listen to a street musician.
That man played his violin.
He didn’t try to win.
He was in his own skin.
Would you like to know?
It was certainly not a show.
But…he played
the most beautiful works of art,
the best musical compositions.
Those sounds could touch anyone’s heart
if they were played in another condition.
Now, I would like to tell.
That man was Joshua Bell,
the famous American violinist.
He didn’t persist on subway’s stage,
He was not in a rage for earning 32 dollars,
playing only 45 minutes.
For a street player it’s a good salary,
considering the USA country.
But…you know what?
There is something I forgot.
Two days before
His salary was insanely more.
For the concert in Boston it was a million
because he was really brilliant.
But…in Washington’s subway
Everyone went away
without hearing his play.
Here is my comment.
It was an experiment
suggested by Washington Post.
I don’t know it’s cost
but I know quite well
we do not hear even the church bell.
We are blind and deaf
And it’s the biggest grief.
One man from that subway’s crowd had said:
He played too loud.
©Larisa Rzhepiahevska
The 5th of March,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Alla' En El "Rancho Graunde" (rehearsal)
All en el rancho grande
All donde vva
Habl una rancherita
Que alegre me deca
Que alegre me deca:
"Te voy hacer unas calzones
comos los que esa el ranchero
Los comenzo de lana
y los acabo de hierro."
There in the great ranch
There where she used to live
There used to be a cowgirl
Who joyfully used to tell me
Who joyfully used to tell me
"I'm going to make some trousers
like those which the cowboy wears
I'm starting them with wool
and I'm finishing them with iron.
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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