The Bulldozer
Bull by day
And dozes by night.
Would that the bulldozer
Dozed all the time
Would that the bulldozer
Would rust in peace.
His watchword
Let not a witch live
His battle cry
Better dead than red.
Give me if you must
The bull himself
But not the bulldozer
No, not the bulldozer.
poem by Robert Francis
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Related quotes
If you have a bulldozer, you don't need a snow shovel.
You try various things when you're growing up. I was an attache in the Foreign Service for a while and then I drove a bulldozer, but neither of those panned out for me so it had to be stand-up.
quote by Dylan Moran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Holiday Snapshot
White cat,
Blue balcony,
Pink apartment block
Noise of
Orange bulldozer
Abhorred.
poem by Neil Crawford
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Peace-At-First
The return of peace subsides for the day,
Dainty dames are reachable, not to betray.
A manager of sayings is upon us just now,
An array of accounts have been supplied with know-how.
Peaceful times demand a newness for the cows to utter,
Never pointed out, the animals with fodder need Butcher.
Peace arrived with a burner of logs, the very mire
We shall connive for the bulldozer, the very bushfire.
poem by Naveed Akram
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My mother gave me a push. If I hadn't had her, maybe I wouldn't have had the push. If I hadn't gone to military school, maybe I wouldn't have decided to get with the program. Maybe I'd be running a bulldozer, rather than going on and doing something more.
quote by Sam Donaldson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Symphony
I have dipped my fingers
in the blood of the victim
and asked for the version of the surgeon.
The precocious death?
Do I need another witness?
Who was trapped under the fallen tree?
Only the passer - by was hit
not the bulldozer
which comes from the palace.
After the rain, tortoises will come out,
parrots will be shot down
without any qualms.
Molten lava flows on the thighs.
I come before the symphony and shout:
our homes are burning.
poem by Satish Verma
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The Fury Of Earth
The day of fire is coming, the thrush,
will fly ablaze like a little sky rocket,
the beetle will sink like a giant bulldozer,
and at the breaking of the morning the houses
will turn into oil and will in their tides
of fire be a becoming and an ending, a red fan.
What then, man in your easy chair,
of the anointment of the sick,
of the New Jerusalem?
You will have to polish up the stars
with Bab-o and find a new God
as the earth empties out
into the gnarled hands of the old redeemer.
poem by Anne Sexton
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Pastoral Chant
Her whisper in the thorny bush when she blooms
and her fragrance spread all over the pasture.
A shepherd boy with the cattle
and the muddy river flows monotonously.
This beauty will change in near future
as they bring the bulldozer and caterpillar
the earth moving equipment.
A big project to establish a power plant by the riverside.
The contrary is give the light to the country
before the general election.
But wild flowers in agony
as they are scared to expose to the light.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Looking Good
I remember big soft flakes
falling all the way home
Streets filling with snow
the trolley plowing through it
like a big red bulldozer
I remember sitting at the table
in the kitchen looking out
at the falling snow
It snowed all night long
Ma and I sat there watching
streets and sidewalks and rooftops
disappearing in a white blanket
of snow that fell and fluttered down
and the snow fell along the Rhine
in Germany and in the dark Ardennes-
fields and woods in France filling
with gently falling snow
and my Pa lying dead
somewhere in France
as snow fell all the way
across Europe
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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The People Who Love Nature
Not seen as great or special or the leaders of our time
But to the people who love Nature i dedicate this rhyme
They dedicate their free time for the future of human kind
And in the person who loves Nature a great person you will find.
The person who loves Nature be it he or be it she
Is someone who is a good friend of all of humanity
For we belong to Nature though some may not agree
Like every other life form that's how 'twould seem to me.
The people who try to save the woodland from the bulldozer and chainsaw
And whilst in trying to save the trees they break a man made law
Are the real heroes and heroines and the unsung of our day
Though there are many out there who do not see it that way.
No special day to honour them and for them never a parade
And for the dead who did love Nature the last post is never played
They live to save the Planet and anonymity is their gain
But the people who love Nature as my heroes and my heroines do remain.
--------------------
poem by Francis Duggan
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And The Snow Fell
I remember big soft wet flakes
falling on the tracks all the way
streets filling with that wet snow
the trolley I was riding plowing
through fields of city snow
like a big red bulldozer
I remember clear as day
sitting with Ma at the table
in the kitchen looking out
at the snow falling
Ma and I sat there
streets and rooftops
disappearing in the falling snow
that covered all
and the snow fell along the Rhine
in Germany
and in the dark woods of the Ardennes
we sat there and watched
as the fields and woods in France
filled with gently falling snow
and my Pa lying dead
somewhere in France
and snow fell softly
all the way
across Europe
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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Blue Collar Man
(Travis Tritt/Gary Rossington)
I don't like hangin' out with a high dollar crowd
I ain't no socialite I'm a little too loud
I don't do garden parties sippin' hot tea
Down in some honky tonk, brother
That's the place for me
A hard days livin' is all that I understand
Well, I owe my soul to MasterCard
I'm a blue collar man
I bust my bottom every day eight to five
I come home draggin' feelin' barely alive
The kids are screamin', house is turned upside down
Need a bulldozer just to find my way around
Don't like caviar, we like our soup from a can
Yeah, I keep my life simple
I'm a blue collar man
Don't need computers handlin' my bank account
Balance my checkbook there's a zero amount
Four-carat diamond's not on my lady's hand
We live a life rich folks could never understand
I make my livin' with these two hard workin' hands
Won't ever be no millionaire
I'm a blue collar man
Won't ever be no millionaire
I'm a blue collar man
I'm a blue collar man
I'm a blue collar man
song performed by by Travis Tritt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Bull For Me
I think, Sirs, and most inimitable Ladies
I think I prefer to look at a bull
The sketch of a bull, the head of a bull perhaps
even if but a study by an artist
rather than some fancy prophet in glorious paint
or in grand chapel or some miracle recounted
in paint and colors and with consummate skill
or even God descending
ah, all these do not take my fancy
they smack too much of the Elevated;
there’s too much
of the grandstanding in these
Grand Divine Themes
but the face of a bull, ah give me a sketch
of the face of a bull
just the bull, all marks of nature in it
and just itself
no symbolism, no conceit, no artifice
no High sounding theology, no Revelation
but just animal nature in its nudity
being a bull
just animal, its eyes and mouth and horns
just all coming together to form one creature
a portrait of a bull anytime for me
Sirs and most inimitable Ladies
none of the Holy Ones and the Great Prophets
and the Mighty and the Divine
and the Grand-Looking:
no bull for me, please;
just the plain head of a bull, as it is
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Life A Benefactor
Life a benefactor, i tasted it once and that was all
it was bestowed on me by the great one who leaves up in the skies
But the so called intellectuals of the land deprived me of it
It gave me chance to walk through struggle and pain
when i wanted to be the best,
i turned out to be the last among the rest
favour was cast as a spell onto the substantial on
since society paid no attention
to the weaker ones to the weaker ones
The root which ensured my success
was cut down by a bulldozer, As i watched the scene
The dream ended and i began the walk of reality
A machine was pinned through my throat to speak the falsehood
In accordance the chamber of justice pleaded me guilty
I had no option than to pay the price with my life since
justice was bought with money
At dawn i caught a glimpse of the generation i dreamt of it
When a round ball speared through my stomach
Life was what he gave me but injustice was profound on me
poem by Chapman Winston
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The Manse Gate
At a wave of his hand, with his eye on the traffic,
Underneath his yellow helmet head,
the bulldozer, lifting its beak
Came down upon the old Manse gate,
And in a second, with its pillars
And walls, were rubble for the road,
foundation.
Contributing to its raiso d'etre, passe.
you leave Marlay Park, on the Grange Road side,
the exit gate, facing what was a Manse,
you could have seen it,
a status of Gentry.
Those walls kept in an ethos,
those gate let in a class,
of carriages and conversation.
To a long, winding, Elms driveway,
the Manse well gone.
And now the gates too,
at the dropp of a hand, the wave,
of a young man, helmetted in yellow,
And a cigarette swinging in the spare hand,
as the clear road allows the beak of progress
move away a century of style.
Then he looks to wave me on,
And holding in his hand, pulling on the
smoke,
nods the beak towards the wall,
the highways now ready for foundation.
History is history at a glance.
poem by Bernard Kennedy
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The Bullfighter Was A Lady
(words & music by sid tepper - roy c. bennett)
Pedro the bull was a killer
King of the bullfighter ringer
Hed wipe up the floor with each brave matador
And have matador stew for his dinner
He heard the crowd shouting ol
But he met his master that day
The bullfighter was a lady
And it was true love at first sight
Her red cape was waving but pedro was shaking (or shaving? )
He wanted to date her that night
Ol
Pedro the bull he was smitten
First time the love bug had bitten
He once was a mad bull, a wild and a bad bull
But now he was mild as a kitten
The people were starting to hiss
But pedro just wanted to kiss
The bullfighter was a lady
And pedro he liked what he saw
He floated on air with a rose in his hair
As he waltzed with that sweet matador
His fate was a bad one, his tale is a sad one
Its hanging right over her door
Ol!
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Being a Tiger, Being a Bull
I was born in 1962, the year of the tiger
In the chinese astrological callendar
but in the Zodiac wheel of time
I'm a Taurus, a bull by design
A man with a purpose, by his own admission
hard, yet soft, but never a remission
I'm understanding, romantic, peaceful at heart
sometimes hard deaded, that's the Bull from the start
But I'm happy for who I am
a very possitive and gentle man
and trust me, it's not so cruel
when at times I'm a Tiger, and others a Bull.
(Charlie Vergara/06.11.2009/1395)
poem by White Tiger
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No one but YOU...!
No one but only you can
Only you can laugh like an elephant
No one but only you can
Only you can shout like a bull
No one but only you - one and only you
Can dance like a buffalo - no one but you..
When the moon hides in the dark clouds
When the stars go dark dead in the night
No one but only you who can laugh
Laugh like an elephant and shout like a bull
And dance and dance like a buffalo
While the whole world is dark
When the sun forgets to rise in the morning
When the birds cry instead of singing
No one but only you can laugh
Laugh like an elephant and shout like a bull
And dance and dance like a buffalo
While the whole world cry
[This is the fiftieth. It is for you. You know who you are]
poem by Rowving Smith
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Death Row
Guilty by association
Guilty due to unusual circumstances
Guilty by act of contrition
Keep on taking chances
Some lives are not important
Justice is purchased like hot bagels
If you are poor, you can easily find yourselves under the barrels
Some lives are not important
The bulldozer has plenty of time to differentiate
To choose, to pick and to discriminate
Be at the wrong place at an odd time
Is enough to find a pauper guilty of a first degree crime
It is criminal to be on death row
It is illegal and unconscionable to be so low
When the subject is forced to admit guilt
Where Judge and Prosecutors, members of the cult
Plot to convict an innocent bystander
Some lives are not important
This is sad, the jurors are the clowns of the slaughter house
A human being wearing trousers and a white blouse
Should not be treated like a nymph of the meteor crater.
In reality, under the clouds, there is no justice
Somewhere under the cave, there is a long list
Of countless children of the gods
Which have been executed by all types of cruel methods
Some lives are not important
“Thou shall not kill”, is no longer part
Of the Ten Commandments. The machine has no heart
No soul and no sense of fairness
Some lives are not important
This society of savagery and wilderness
Has to change for the better. The killing has to end
The lynching has to stop. Serious men and women must amend
The Constitution to protect the entire population
No one has the right to kill; the Institution
Ought to do a much better job than in the past
Some lives are not important
The system must be fair, blind and just at last
Blame lions, leopards and tigers, not the sheep
Injustice is too expensive and justice too cheap
It is too easy to accuse, condemn and execute
Bring the Bible, the Koran to teach the Blind and the Mute.
poem by Hebert Logerie
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The Crazy Bull
Look out, here comes a crazy bull
He is crazy
Hide behind the fence, my love
He is coming fast
Just toss me your jacket
And I will fight him for you
Toro, Toro, Toro
Enter the arena
everyone
Is watching me now
Toro, Toro, Toro
Crazy bull
Little by little
I am taming you
They are going to open up the gates
To his pen
So this beaten bull can leave
Now he returns back home
Looking like a lamb
Toro, Toro, Toro
poem by Mercedes Zoller
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