Pass On Calls
When the cock is truly booted out over snows
It croaks, pass on the calls, so did the cock
The down graded window of the eyes's sores
Retake the push, sliding on a running nose
The flue shaped its nose of rose garden
Phone calls, doubles it upon the Idol burden
And gummed it just the ears of the blood
And said, finish the old, the owed debt of abroad
Finish oops! Finish and furnish the gotten sense
The cock startled, the king had said
The school warrior on the anthill
It didn't learn that lesson point blank
It drowned along time ago, its lung full of water
It ended, the click at heart in springs
poem by Paul Mwenelupembe
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Related quotes
The Song at Cock-Crow
1918 -- Ille autem iterum negavit.
The first time that Peter denied his Lord
He shrank from the cudgel, the scourge and the cord,
But followed far off to see what they would do,
Till the cock crew--till the cock crew--
After Gethsemane, till the cock crew!
The first time that Peter denied his Lord
'Twas only a maid in the palace who heard,
As he sat by the fire and warmed himself through.
Then the cock crew! Then the cock crew!
("Though also art one of them.") Then the cock crew!
The first time that Peter denied his Lord
He had neither the Throne, nor the Keys nor the Sword--
A poor silly fisherman, what could he do,
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
But weep for his wickedness when the cock crew?
. . . . . .
The next time that Peter denied his Lord
He was Fisher of Men, as foretold by the Word,
With the Crown on his brow and the Cross on his shoe,
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
In Flanders and Picardy when the cock crew!
The next time that Peter denied his Lord
'Twas Mary the Mother in Heaven Who heard,
She grieved for the maidens and wives that they slew
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
At Tirmonde and Aerschott when the cock crew!
The next time that Peter denied his Lord
The Babe in the Manger awakened and stirred,
And He stretched out His arms for the playmates
He knew--
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
But the waters had covered them when the cock crew!
The next time that Peter denied his Lord
'Twas Earth in her agony waited his word,
But he sat by the fire and naught would he do,
Though the cock crew--though the cock crew--
Over all Christendom, though the cock crew!
The last time that Peter denied his Lord,
The Father took from him the Keys and the Sword,
And the Mother and Babe brake his Kingdom in two,
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
(Because of his wickedness) when the cock crew!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Couple Of Chicken Religious Meal
The couple of chicken religious meal
On the ruwatan of my mother
Offering to me
8. Couple Of Chicken Religious Meal
I left the hen one at my grandma house
and bring the cock going home
after arrive at home
that cock
I bring everywhere
aver meet the another one
keep fighting with my cock and win
sometime meet with the cockfighter
neighbour, who have gerobak repair house
where they iron for
and teakwood for
in the center field
they fight my cock and theirs
the winner is always my cock
Their face look very regretful
And they offering to bought my cock
I avoid
And tomorrow eveing, when I went home from school
I found my cock foot
He stay and asleep in my house corner
My cockfoot had injury was harpooned
I care with garlic, not yet recover
I care with peniciclin, not
a week after that cock dead
I cry for the whole day
I don’t understand adult will won theirself
they dont understand, that is not just a cock
But a cock for religious meal in the ruwatan of my mother
My grandma gift
poem by Prasetya Utama
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Poor Man
The hen has no breasts; poor cock.
The hen has no lips; poor cock.
The hen has no hair; poor cock.
The cock can rape hen; poor man.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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What Do We Do To Aldo Kraas?
i have poured
a bucket of cold water
to wake him up
so he can finish
his poems
that we love
to see
in full
whole
he didn't
he holds us in super suspense
our feet could have danced
all night
our hands could have touched
the world in so much
thrills and freshness
but he didn't
he caught us suspended
frozen and
almost dead to extinction
what do we do to Aldo
to finish the poems
we want to read?
i am afraid
hot waters cannot
make him finish
what ought to be
i am afraid no one
can
because Aldo is Aldo
and just like me
Ric is Ric
that is how it goes
without saying
let them be
let me be
the freedom to be
unfinished
the freedom to be
finished
and perhaps be praised
or just be scorned
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Cock Up Your Beaver
When first my brave Johnie lad came to this town,
He had a blue bonnet that wanted the crown;
But now he has gotten a hat and a feather,
Hey, brave Johnie lad, cock up your beaver!
Cock up your beaver, and cock it fu' sprush,
We'll over the border, and gie them a brush;
There's somebody there we'll teach better behaviour,
Hey, brave Johnie lad, cock up your beaver!
poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Finish What You Started
(m. malamet/a. roboff/a. lang/d. lambert)
So, near yet so far
Thats how it is
Oh, thats how you are
What more can I do?
These walls wont let me get through
But if I know you, you will
Chorus:
Finish what you started
Youll come back to me
I know its gonna feel, baby
Like it used to be
So finish what you started
I will wait for you
I know where I stand
A fool for your love
Oh, thats what I am
Im losin control
Youre down too deep in my soul
To let you go, wont ya
(repeat chorus)
Im standing here shakin
Wonderin if you let me in
Oh, dont watch my heart breakin
Knowing what we could have been
What more can I do?
Your heart just wont let me through
But if I know you (finish what you started)
And I think I know you, baby (finish what you started)
And you can really show me if
You finish what you started
Youll come back to me
I know its gonna feel, baby
Like it used to be
So finish what you started
I will wait for you
I will wait for you (ahh)
Finish what you started
Im gonna wait for you
Finish what you started
Dont you keep me waitin (ohhh)
Finish what you started (ohhh)
Finish what you started
Youll come back to me
I know its gonna feel baby
Like it used to be
So finish what you started
I will wait for you
song performed by by Lea Salonga
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Musing on mortality
Musing on mortality.
Though we all start on equal terms
Your life experience will affirm.
All finish up as food for worms.
Some will win whilst others lose
We have no choice we can’t refuse
All finish up as food for worms.
Although we strive to stay alive
By any means we can contrive.
All finish up as food for worms
Some settle for cremation
An act of desperation.
All finish up as food for worms
Although the ashes are broadcast
They mingle with the soil at last.
All finish up as food for worms
That is the way it’s meant to be.
There is no doubt eventually.
All finish up as food for worms
The only true equality
Is found within the cemetery
ALL FINISH UP AS FOOD FOR WORMS.
SUNDAY,11 DECEMBER 2011
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A Passing Fancy
The bell was ringing in the distance, of my existence,
but I let it ring.
Couldn’t think of a thing to say, anyway,
certainly not today.
Or any day for that matter, I didn’t want to natter to anyone.
Too many calls, then love palls.
Familiarity breeds contempt, and I was not exempt.
I‘ll let the dust settle on this affair, it’s just the way it goes,
that’s what I chose to do. Finish it, I had to quit.
He’ll forget, and once again my heart will be ‘to let‘.
It was a passing fancy, a chancy romance, and one begins
to learn and discern.
The closing of a book full of empty pages,
I think I’ll take the phone off the hook,
until fate, brings the next available mate.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Song -- Rondeau
Finish these langours! Oh! I'm sick
Of dying airs, I know the trick;
Long since I've learn'd to well explain
Th'unmeaning cant of fire and pain,
And see through all the senseless lies
Of burning darts from killing eyes;
I'm tir'd with this continual rout
Of bowing low and leading out.
Finish, &c.
Finish this tedious dangling trade,
By which so many fools are made;
For fools they are, whom you can please
By such affected airs as these:
At opera near my box to stand,
And slyly press the given hand,
Thus may you wait whole years in vain;
But sure you would, were you in pain.
Finish, &c.
poem by Lady Mary Wortley Montagu
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Life's End
Then life was a wonderful happiness,
If its commencement was fulfilled by soceity,
If its finish was not of unhappiness
And the ending was its finish,
The very same as Fate.
One loved the purpose of existing on the World
As we were thrust headlong into peril of work
Yet made a finish.
The perils are to demand a finish,
and leave us with splendour,
To find Height at the Heaven.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Bed By The Window
I chose the bed downstairs by the sea-window for a good death-bed
When we built the house, it is ready waiting,
Unused unless by some guest in a twelvemonth, who hardly suspects
Its latter purpose. I often regard it,
With neither dislike nor desire; rather with both, so equalled
That they kill each other and a crystalline interest
Remains alone. We are safe to finish what we have to finish;
And then it will sound rather like music
When the patient daemon behind the screen of sea-rock and sky
Thumps with his staff, and calls thrice: 'Come, Jeffers.'
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Foolish Cock
cockooo-cockooo
the cock wakes us all up
today is a special day
my new sister is been outdoored
they quickly bath us children
and wear our best kente for us
mother feels proud and pampered
father sits by the palm wine pot
slowly pulling his beard and looking stern
i heard someone whisper
hel, d have prefered another boy
as we dance around the compound
the foolish cock joins in
he flaps his wings
lifts his beak in the air and sings
whats the occasion he seems to asks
the woman put water on the fire
cock, s still celerbrating
father takes out his hunting knife
cock does a pretty dance
little did he know
he was our meat today
poem by Yvonne Selase Nyahe
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O! What a nose!
People talk about a running nose
I'm talking about a long facial cargo
She’s got a nose longer than my longest toes
With a mission of being nosy as time goes
Please don’t get close
When she discloses
Her loud snoring doze
Don’t be like the heroes
Goodness gracious
O! What a nose!
Goodness gracious
What a precious nose pose!
Painted as red as a romantic rose
Standing long like my garden pipe hose
And as she sniffs, sneezes and exposes
I cannot help thinking of Pinocchio’s nose
Goodness gracious
O! What a nose!
Goodness gracious
Red and long when it snows
And this nose is nosy
She can smell a rat, cat or a bat
When you are getting cozy
In your one bedroom flat
O! What a nose!
In and out juice flows
And when she smells the air
They all cannot help but stare
Copyright 2008 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Early Works - Wishing Time
I walk through the cobwebs of my mind,
through the maze of thoughts and stories
pass the sadness and the heartaches
of the days that pass so quickly.
That are here and gone before you know it
and how you start but never finish
always wishing time would stand still
just to let you finish something you’ve started.
29 April 1985
poem by David Harris
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The Price Of The Cock
THE PRICE OF THE COCK
A WOMAN STOLE A COCK AND TOOK IT TO THE MARKET TO SELL IT, WHILST AT THE MARKET, SMARTER THIEVES STOLE THE COCK FROM HER AND SHE WENT BACK HOME SOBER!
ON HER ARRIVAL AT HER HOUSE, AN INQUISITIVE NEIGHBOUR ASKED, DEAR NEIGHBOUR, YOUR COCK WHICH YOU TOOK TO THE MARKET, HOW MUCH DID YOU SELL IT? SHE ASKED AND THE SOBER WOMAN REPLIED, IT WAS SOLD FOR EXACTLY THE SAME PRICE FOR WHICH IT WAS BOUGHT!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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Cock-a-doodle-do
Cock-a-doodle-do
Sings the cock in the morning
To wake up people!
poem by Asif Andalib
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When the cockroach decides to make the cock its friend it must be ready to end up in the cock's stomach.
The World Looks Upon Us With Worried Eyes
look at us who want to really finish the work
this afternoon
look at us being looked at the world with
worried eyes
it is reminding that if we finish this work
on time
the work shall soon finish us
earlier than expected
look at this world that looks down upon us
it is not sleeping
it keeps reminding that there is no apocalypse
of earth and rock
the sun will always be there until it finds us all gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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As the old cock crows, the young cock learns.