John Skelton
What could be dafter
Than John Skelton’s laughter?
What sound more tenderly
Than his pretty poetry?
So where to rank old Skelton?
He was no monstrous Milton,
Nor wrote no “Paradise Lost,”
So wondered at by most,
Phrased so disdainfully,
Composed so painfully.
He struck what Milton missed,
Milling an English grist
With homely turn and twist.
He was English through and through,
Not Greek, nor French, nor Jew,
Though well their tongues he knew,
The living and the dead:
Learned Erasmus said,
Hic ’unum Britannicarum
Lumen et decus literarum.
But oh, Colin Clout!
How his pen flies about,
Twiddling and turning,
Scorching and burning,
Thrusting and thrumming!
How it hurries with humming,
Leaping and running,
At the tipsy-topsy Tunning
Of Mistress Eleanor Rumming!
How for poor Philip Sparrow
Was murdered at Carow,
How our hearts he does harrow
Jest and grief mingle
In this jangle-jingle,
For he will not stop
To sweep nor mop,
To prune nor prop,
To cut each phrase up
Like beef when we sup,
Nor sip at each line
As at brandy-wine,
Or port when we dine.
But angrily, wittily,
Tenderly, prettily,
Laughingly, learnedly,
Sadly, madly,
Helter-skelter John
Rhymes serenely on,
As English poets should.
Old John, you do me good!
poem by Robert Graves
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Related quotes
I had found English audiences highly satisfactory. They are the best listeners in the world. Perhaps the music-lovers of some of our larger cities equal the English, but I do not believe they can be surpassed in that respect.
quote by John Philip Sousa
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet; My Life till Date
I dug the ground so deep but got no oil;
I climbed the mountain steep; didn’t see its peak;
I sowed the seeds so well but ’twas poor soil;
I wrote in English swell but knew no Greek.
I’ve labored hard; I’m yet to reap results;
My honesty hasn’t paid me dividends;
I’ve patiently received umptine insults;
I’ve tried in life my best to make amends.
Yet, God hasn’t been unkind in big a way;
The things He does is for my good always;
He will give me in His time my D-day;
I need His wisdom and His immense grace.
God cares and loves me tho’ I don’t deserve!
Whatever happens still, I must Him serve.
6-24-2002 by Dr John Celes
poem by John Celes
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Why Poetry Matters
The English teacher spoke at length
To stimulate the class,
Still hoping they'd recall a tenth
Before the day must pass!
He mentioned poets long since dead,
Yet with a sense of awe.
The students had a sense of dread...
They'd heard it all before.
He mentioned Shakepeare and they groaned
At all those thees and thous.
He mentioned Milton and they moaned
For he was for highbrows.
He mentioned Mister Milligan
And read some funny verse...
But when the teacher thought he'd won,
It made the matter worse.
He told them straight, 'It's poetry
That teaches us anew...
It's magic and it's mystery
And each line has some clue.
If we unravel what each reads,
What wisdom will we find?
What treasure troves, what noble creeds,
What stories will unwind?
What insights does the poet know?
What revelations share?
What rhythmic words will overflow? '
They said, 'We just don't care! '
That's why the English teacher left,
Resigning that same day!
He emigrated, quite bereft...
But then earnt twice the pay...
The poem was written just before the TV programme.
Griff Rhys Jones explores the theme, 'Why Poetry Matters',
Broadcasted on BBC2 (UK) TV,20th May 2009...
Shakespeare, Milton and Mister Spike Milligan were featured
on this splendid show as part of the BBC's Poetry Season...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Breakin' All The Rules
YOUR COMIN' HOME - THERE'S BLOOD ON THE WALLS AND CHARLIE
AND THE FAMILY MADE HOUSE CALLS. IF YOU'RE ALONE THEN WATCH
WHAT YOU DO 'COS CHARLIE AND THE FAMILY MIGHT GET YOU.
*BRIDGECHORUS
CAN YOU HEAR THEM IN THE DARKNESS, HELTER SKELTER - SPIRAL
MADNESS, YEAH, BLOODBATH IN PARADISE, BUT THERE'S NO WHERE
YOU CAN RUN TO BABY, BLOODBATH IN PARADISE - FOREVER SLEEP IN
PARADISE.
CALIFORNIA SUN - BUT YOU'RE STILL IN BED AND THE CALIFORNIA RAIN
IS TURNING RED. NO SIGN OF LIFE OR THE KEEPERS OF DOOM IN
CHARLIE AND THE KEEPER'S SCARLET ROOM.
CAN YOU HEAR THEM IN THE DARKNESS, HELTER SKELTER - SPIRAL
MADNESS, YAH, BLOODBATH IN PARADISE, BUT THERE'S NO WHERE
YOU CAN RUN TO BABY, BLOODBATH IN PARADISE - FOREVER SLEEP IN
PARADISE.
THEY'LL SUMMON YOU, TO WAKE FROM THE DEAD AS YOU LIE
BLEEDING, MURDERED IN YOUR BED. THE SWEETEST DREAMS ARE ALL
IN YOUR MIND BUT NO ONE WAKES WHEN CHARLIE CREEPS BEHIND,
YEAH.
EXECUTION HALTS YOUR BREATH, HELTER SKELTER SPIRAL DEATH,
BLOODBATH IN PARADISE, BUT THERE'S NO WHERE YOU BREAK OUT BABY,
BLOODBATH IN PARADISE - FOREVER SLEEP IN PARADISE.
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bloodbath In Paradise
Your comin' home
There's blood on the walls
When Charlie and the family made house calls
If you're alone
Then watch what you do
'Cause Charlie and the family might get you, yeah!
Can you hear them
In the darkness
Helter Skelter
Spiral madness, yeahh
Chorus:
Bloodbath in paradise
But there's nowhere you can run to baby
Bloodbath in paradise
Forever sleep in paradise
California sun
But you're still in bed
And the California rain is turning red
No sign of life
Or the keepers of doom
In Charlie and the keeper's scarlet room, yeah
Can you hear them
In the darkness
Helter Skelter
Spiral madness, yeahh
Chorus:
Bloodbath in paradise
But there's nowhere you can run to baby
Bloodbath in paradise
Forever sleep in paradise
Solo
They'll summon you
To wake from the dead
As you lie bleeding, murdered in your bed
The sweetest dreams
Are all in you mind
But no one wakes when Charlie creeps behind, yeah
Execution
Halts your breath
Helter Skelter
Spiral death, yeahh
Chorus:
Bloodbath in paradise
But there's no where you can break out baby
Bloodbath in paradise
Forever sleep in paradise
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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English Roundabout
(colin moulding)
People rushing round with no time to spare.
Im so dizzy,
Im neither here nor there.
In this traffic jam,
I just want to shout,
Let me off o this english roundabout
English roundabout
And all the the horns go beep! beep!
All the people follow like sheep,
Im full of light and sound,
Making my head go round, round.
Everyone is cursing under their breath,
Im a passenger,
I feel close to death,
Hopeless situation,
I have no doubt.
Stop the madness, english roundabout
English roundabout
And all the cars go brum! brum!
And in my ears I feel a hum,
The neons blind my eyes,
All those tempers rise, rise.
Cars and buses go,
Puffing out their smoke,
Roll my window down,
I begin to choke.
I have had enough,
I just want to get out.
Let me off o this english roundabout.
English roundabout.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Helter Skelter
this is a song charles manson stole from the beatles.
Were stealing it back.
When you get to the bottom
You go back to the top of the slide
And you stop and you turn
And you go for a ride
Till you get to the bottom
Then you see me again
Do you, dont you want me to love you?
Im coming down fast, but Im miles above you
Tell me, tell me, tell me the answer
You may be a lover but you aint no dancer
Helter skelter
Helter skelter
Helter skelter
Do you, dont you want me to make you?
Coming down fast I dont want me to break you
Tell me , tell me, tell me the answer
You may be a lover but you aint no dancer
Helter skelter
Helter skelter
Helter skelter
When you get to the bottom
You go back to the top of the slide
Where you stop and you turn
And you go for a ride
Till you get to the bottom
And I see you again
Do you, dont you want me to love you ?
Coming down fast Im right above you
Tell me , tell me, tell me the answer
You may be a lover but you aint no dancer
Helter skelter
Helter skelter
Helter skelter
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hell has no benefits, only torture.
John Milton in Paradise Lost
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Helter Skelter
When i get to the bottom i go back to the top of the slide
Where i stop and i turn and i go for a ride
Till i get to the bottom and i see you again.
Do you, don't you want me to love you
I'm coming down fast but i'm miles above you
Tell me tell me tell me come on tell me the answer
You may be a lover but you ain't no dancer.
Helter skelter helter skelter
Helter skelter.
Will you, won't you want me to make you
I'm coming down fast but don't let me break you
Tell me tell me tell me the answer
You may be a lover but you ain't no dancer.
Look out helter skelter helter skelter
Helter skelter
Look out, cause here she comes.
When i get to the bottom i go back to the top of the slide
And i stop and i turn and i go for a ride
And i get to the bottom and i see you again
Well do you, don't you want me to make you
I'm coming down fast but don't let me break you
Tell me tell me tell me the answer
You may be a lover but you ain't no dancer.
Look out helter skelter helter skelter
Helter skelter
Look out helter skelter
She's coming down fast
Yes she is
Yes she is.
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven.
John Milton in Paradise Lost
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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yes, what if God does not speak english at all?
you were not born yesterday
and probably heard it before
that if your God does not speak english
then he must not be God
of course, something arrogant
hangs in the air
of this effortless superiority that
'englishers'
'english-plongplangs'
clai m, which, of course, we
always oppose and dub
as prettry dumb silly
but anyhow, yes, we are asked again
what if?
what if, this God, does not really speak English?
well, of course, he is still God
and he must not have considered the english language
that important
and i agree, even if i speak it,
i still have this language
of my soul,
albeit, in english, for you,
who does not speak my own language,
yes, of course, for you to perhaps
understand,
but i like it though, this thought
that God does not speak
the english language, lest, he may sound
so englishly, oh well,
arrogant.....
dear God
do you really...not speak english?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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To My Most Beloved School-Teacher, Mr. B.E. Coates
Dressed in coat and suit and tie,
Anglo-Indian Teacher my;
Wearing shoes with shine always;
Tall in stature, meek, honest, Ayes!
Speaking English in great style;
Punctual, walking ev’n a mile;
Teaching subjects ardently;
A gentle-man seen, quite rarely!
He taught us English with great care,
Like how Englishmen would dare;
Its nuances, he laid thread-bare,
Pronouncing with Anglo-air!
He made the class so interesting;
Chiding mischief, not punishing;
A pious man who forgave fast;
Advising students till the last.
He was my class-teacher at times;
And read us poetry with rhymes;
He taught us Geography as well;
‘Be hard-working, ’ he’d always tell.
Because of him, I loved English,
And rose to levels, many wish;
He taught us Catechism too,
And say in life, ‘How do you do? ’
My teacher most-beloved was he;
He fanned my sparks of poesy!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-11-2007
Dedicated most lovingly to
Master BE Coates, CGMS, CBE
poem by John Celes
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Battle of the Herrings
A fishing action
North of France
1429 took place
Cause of battle
French vs. English
Anticipation/baited breath
River – flat plain
Set up strategy
Hook/line/sinker
British attacked first
French were slow
English bombarded fish
French did not
want to get
their shoes wet
Were most certain
outflanked by British
French counter attacked
Used Brie instead
of slippery worms
Won the fishing
competition – yelled Viva’
la fishermen French
“What was that”?
asked the English
“What’s the matter
with you cockneys
Hard of Herring? ”
'2008'
poem by Robert Sheridan
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English Eyes
What youre sayin it never really crossed my mind
I hear playin and everybodys keepin time
Im recallin that girl I met in london town
She was strange, young and tender and narrowed all my choices down
Chorus:
We ran away into the night hypnotized
You carved your name right next to mine, english eyes
I was tryin to read her lips and knew the time was drawing near
I forgot what she said but I remember how she whispered in my ear
I can hear laughter coming from the places we once knew
There were stories from a stranger out of nowhere but they seemed so true
Chorus
English eyes, english eyes
(instrumental break)
English eyes
Red sky warning, girl you really put a spell on me
Never told me bout the daddy you refused to please
You took the bishop when the king was standing right in front of you
Theres nothing in it if I cant have a girl with eyes like you
Chorus repeats 2x
English eyes, yeah, english eyes, english eyes
song performed by by Toto
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I would rather be the Queen's English
given the chance to
to be Queen of England
or the Queen's English
(Queen of English)
I would pick the latter
with not a wink of the eye
more power have i
than the queen
tap, tap, tap
as i summon my men, women,
on the computer
they would come running
to take their rightful place
to carry out my ambition
to shape, shake up world
men, women, children
in the wrong place
are all thrown out
exterminated from their lines
tap tap tap and they are purged never to be seen
it is done so efficiently
it is quieter than
the dropp of a hairpin
the best world's secret police would even stand in awe
the queen of english
is also a queen of terror
worse than hitler's men
when it comes to her ambition
and right representation of her spirit
not a word is allowed to play truant
whenever her muse comes
visiting, clothing them
up to dazzle their way
into everybody's heart
is her prime concern
line up all of you words!
i am your queen
be at the right place
and stay in line
or else a single tap
and you blink into oblivion
not a single space
is allowed
for disloyalty
the Queen of the
English Language
is but a fastidious queen
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Helter Skelter
When I get to the bottom
I go back to the top of the side
Wher I stop and I go for a ride
til I get to the bottom
Where I see you again
Do you, dont you
Want me to love you
Im comin down fast
But Im miles above you
Tell me, tell me, tell me the answer
You may be a lover
But you aint no dancer
Helter skelter
Helter skelter
Helter skelter
Will you, wont you
Want me to make you
Im coming down fast
But dont let me break you
Tell me, tell me, tell me the answer
You may be a lover
But you aint no dancer helter skelter
Helter skelter
Helter skelter
Shes comin down fast
Yes she is, yes she is
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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John Masefield Was Much More Than A Poet Laureate
John Masefield was much more than a poet laureate he was indeed a verse maker supreme
His longer poems are surely masterpieces and will live for centuries or so it would seem
From his prolific pen the rhymes kept flowing he kept on penning till the day he died
No doubt about it born to be a wordsmith and greatness of him cannot be denied
John Masefield wrote the poetry of the masses and in his lifetime was famed Worldwide
His 'Reynard The Fox' the greatest hunting poem ever of the hunting people of the English countryside
His other famed longer poems 'The Daffodil Fields' and 'The Everlasting Mercy' and 'Dauber' the boy artsist who died at sea
As well as others are true masterpieces to rhyme to him seemed to come easily
His descriptive powers to say the least amazing it must be true that poets are born not made
For sixty years he was a major poet a literary icon of the wordsmith trade
John Masefield he was Ledbury's greatest poet one might say a manufacturer of rhyme
For many years he was Britain's Poet Laureate until he too lost out to father time
He truly was the poet of the people and poets of his stature as always are rare
He died an old man in his eighty ninth year with England's best he surely does compare.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Epilogue to Henry II.
Thus you the sad catastrophe have seen,
Occasioned by a mistress and a queen.
Queen Eleanor the proud was French, they say;
But English manufacture got the day.
Jane Clifford was her name, as books aver;
Fair Rosamond was but her nom de guerre.
Now tell me, gallants, would you lead your life
With such a mistress, or with such a wife?
If one must be your choice, which d' ye approve,
The curtain lecture, or the curtain love?
Would ye be godly with perpetual strife,
Still drudging on with homely Joan, your wife,
Or take your pleasure in a wicked way,
Like honest whoring Harry in the play?
I guess your minds; the mistress would be taking,
And nauseous matrimony sent a packing.
The devil's in you all; mankind's a rogue;
You love the bride, but you detest the clog.
After a year, poor spouse is left i' the lurch,
And you, like Haynes, return to mother-church.
Or, if the name of church comes cross your mind,
Chapels-of-ease behind our scenes you find.
The playhouse is a kind of market-place;
One chaffers for a voice, another for a face;
Nay, some of you,—I dare not say how many,—
Would buy of me a pen'worth for your penny.
E'en this poor face, which with my fan I hide,
Would make a shift my portion to provide,
With some small perquisites I have beside.
Though for your love, perhaps, I should not care,
I could not hate a man that bids me fair.
What might ensue, 'tis hard for me to tell;
But I was drenched to-day for loving well,
And fear the poison that would make me swell.
poem by John Dryden
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Spheres and Circles
Topsy-turvy we stumble
Spinning as we go
Stretching out
But grasping naught
Helter-skelter we cascade
Our quarry just out of reach
Forever hunting
Never catching
Haphazardly, madly, running
Knowing not what we seek
Chasing a vague desire
For something better
poem by Timothy Marshal Nichols
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English Rose
what tender beauty lays before me
I call her my English rose
lips red like petals and as soft
earthen eyes I could sink into
breathless I look on captivated
if only I could bathe in her scent
lay my head upon her bosom
and sleep against the softest skin
how beautiful my English rose
how strong this feeling pines
at my thoughts into my soul
here is a beauty unlike any other
tenderly sweet before my eye
I could hold this picture forever
and forever love my English rose
poem by Matthew Holloway
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