En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Doctor Frolic

Felicity the healer isn’t young
And you don’t look him up unless you need him.
Clown’s eyes, Pope’s nose, a mouth for dirty stories,
He made his bundle in the Great Depression

And now, a jovial immigrant success
In baggy pinstripes, he winks and wheezes gossip,
Village stories that could lift your hair
Or lance a boil; the small town dirt, the dope,

The fishy deals and incestuous combinations,
The husband and the wife of his wife’s brother,
The hospital contract, the certificate ...
A realist and hardy omnivore,

He strolls the jetties when the month is right
With a knife and lemons in his pocket, after
Live mussels from among the smelly rocks,
Preventative of impotence and goitre.

And as though the sight of tissue healing crooked
Pleased him, like the ocean’s vaginal taste,
He’ll stitch your thumb up so it shows for life.
And where he once was the only quack in town

We all have heard his half-lame joke, the one
About the operation that succeeded,
The tangy line that keeps that clever eye
So merry in the punchinello face.

poem by Robert Pinsky
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fox

The Fox went out on a chilly night
He prayed for the moon to give him light
For he had many a mile to go that night
Before he reached the town-o, town-o, town-o
He had many a mile to go that night
Before he reached the town-o
He ran till he came to the farmers pen
The ducks and the geese were kept therein
He said a couple of you are gonna grease my chin
Before I leave this town-o, town-o, town-o
A couple of you are gonna grease my chin
Before I leave this town-o
[BRIDGE (Mandolin)]
He grabbed the great goose by the neck
He threw a duck across his back
And he didn't mind the quack, quack
And the legs all danglin' down-o, down-o, down-o
He didn't mind the quack, quack
And the legs all danglin' down-o
Well the old gray Woman jumped out of bed
Out of the window she popped her head
Cryin' John, John the great goose is gone
The Fox is on the town-o, town-o, town-o
John, John the great goose is gone
And the Fox is on the town-o
[BRIDGE (Fiddle)]
He ran till he came to his nice warm den
And there were the little ones 8, 9, 10
Sayin' Daddy, Daddy better go back again
It must be a mighty fine town-o, town-o, town-o
Daddy, Daddy go back again
For it must be a mighty fine town-o
The Fox and his Wife, without any strife
They cut up the goose with a fork and a knife
And they never had such a supper in their life
And the little ones chewed on the bones-o, bones-o, bones-o
They never had such a supper in their life
And the little ones chewed on the bones

song performed by by Nickel Creek
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Small Town

Well I was born in a small town
And I live in a small town
Probly die in a small town
Oh, those small communities
All my friends are so small town
My parents live in the same small town
My job is so small town
Provides little opportunity
Educated in a small town
Taught the fear of jesus in a small town
Used to daydream in that small town
Another boring romantic thats me
But Ive seen it all in a small town
Had myself a ball in a small town
Married an l.a. doll and brought her to this small town
Now shes small town just like me
No I cannot forget where it is that I come from
I cannot forget the people who love me
Yeah, I can be myself here in this small town
And people let me be just what I want to be
Got nothing against a big town
Still hayseed enough to say
Look whos in the big town
But my bed is in a small town
Oh, and thats good enough for me
Well I was born in a small town
And I can breathe in a small town
Gonna die in this small town
And thats probly where theyll bury me

song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That Many Their Own Praises

I do not wish to control people I've never hit my wife
And I too have my struggles my struggles in life
But like the pope or the monarch I breathe the same air
And 'tis true hope can be found at the pit of despair.

I did not ask you to tell me of how marvellous you are
Of your recent job promotion and of your brand new car
And your two weeks holiday in a resort by the sea
With your beautiful wife and your young family.

I feel glad to hear that for yourself you've done well
But for a commentary of your achievements I did not ask you to tell
Me of since I do not have success stories of my own to relate
But then suppose those who work hard at it their own success do create.

And I am not one to begrudge you your success
If in your life it brings you some happiness
Yet in an age of self promotion it does seem a sad thing
That many their own praises feel compelled to sing.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Swan Song

Her hair was as black as a starling's tail,
Her cheeks as pale as a swan,
Her eyes, like two slim moonstones, glowed
And her mouth was the Holy Grail.
She'd played in the dirt of the village street
So long ago, so long...
She'd swum in the pools of the mountain stream,
But now, that girl had gone.

While I still rise with the early bird
To tend to my father's fields,
As the only son of an only son
I watched the woman leave.
She cried sweet tears as she said farewell
And vowed to come back, and soon,
But the village streets of a western town
Hold nothing for Ling Xiaodan.

The weeks went by, then the months and years
And I heard of her now and then,
She was dressed in expensive clothes, I heard,
She was driving a shiny car;
She was seen at the Beijing Opera
By a man who worked at the door,
'She glided by like a Queen, ' he said,
'As her dress trailed long on the floor.'

And her wai po, down in the village square
Would brag of her daughter's girl,
'She will snare some man with a million yuan, '
She said, 'not a farmer's son.
Go home to your fields and forget her now,
She's not for an also-ran! '
And laughed, as the tears sprang into my eyes
For the love of Ling Xiaodan.

She came back once to the village street
To her home, as ever we must,
But carefully held her dress up high
To avoid the rubbish and dust,
I stood at the side and she looked at me,
Then turned, looked quickly away,
For Ling Xiaodan and a farmer's son
Had nothing at all to say.

But I saw her once before she left,
Alone by the mountain stream,
Her eyes were sorrowful, in remorse,
Remembering how we'd been.
'I loved you once, as a child, ' she said
'But the world is harsh, and grey...
We do what our fathers want us to,
And my father sent me away.'

I sat by her then, and held her hand,
Stroking her neck, and hair,
And kissed the cheek, so pale and wan,
And I cried in a deep despair.
'You must get on with your life, ' she said,
'Get a wife and a baby son;
I leave tomorrow to see the man
That my father has met in town.'

I heard that she'd wed a businessman,
And cried in the quiet gloom,
My dream had died by the mountain stream,
On that day, in the afternoon.
She worked in a shop her husband owned,
So they said, but I never heard
'Til the body was brought back home again,
That the love of my life was dead.

It seemed that she'd sold her favours there
In the rear of a grimy store,
To any man with the change to spare
While her husband played Mah Jongg.
He'd gambled his fortune, and lost it all
While his wife kept the fool from jail
With what she earned with her hands and hair,
And a mouth like the Holy Grail.

But then, a man who was ill or mad
Put his grimy hands at her throat,
And squeezed the life from the darling neck
That I'd once both loved, and stroked.
They buried her up on the mountainside
By the stream, in sight of her home,
And from where I stand in the paddy fields
I can see her pale white stone.

She'd played in the dirt of the village street
So long ago, so long...
She'd swum in the pools of the mountain stream,
But now, that girl had gone.
I married a woman I barely knew
And she bore me a black-haired girl,
With eyes like two slim moonstones, and...
A mouth like the Holy Grail.

10 March 2006

poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dirty Old Town

(ewan mccoll)
Found my love by the gaswork croft
Dreamed a dream by the old canalkissed my girl by the factory wall
Dirty old town, dirty old towni heard a siren from the dock
Saw a train set the night on firesmelled the spring on the sulfured wind
Dirty old town, whoa-oh, dirty old townwere goin to take a good sharp axe
Shining steel tempered in the fireand well chop you down like an old dead tree
Dirty old town, dirty old towndirty old town, whoa-oh, dirty old town
And oh well chop you downoh, dirty, dirty, dirty old town
Dirty old town, dirty old townand oh whoa-oh dirty old town
Chop you down one of these days

song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: A Man’s Life Is His Wife

How can one be unkind to one’s one wife,
The better-half who shares his joys and grief?
The woman ’hind the success in his life,
Who serves him lovingly though life is brief?

The share of toil she renders is far great;
From child rearing to cooking, loving chores;
She dons the family’s problems as her fate;
Her life gets spent like house-arrest ’hind doors.

How can a man to wife be ungrateful?
His wife’s a shadow of his own image!
No husband good can be to her hateful;
In both his eyes remains his wife’s visage!

How then can man be unkind to his wife?
The better shouldn’t be kept bitter all life.

poem by John Celes
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Dirty Old Town

I met my love by the gas works wall
Dreamed a dream by the old canal
Kissed a girl by the factory wall
Dirty old town
Dirty old town
Clouds a drifting across the moon
Cats a prowling on their beat
Springs a girl in the street at night
Dirty old town
Dirty old town
Heard a siren from the docks
Saw a train set the night on fire
Smelled the spring on the smoky wind
Dirty old town
Dirty old town
Im going to make me a good sharp axe
Shining steel tempered in the fire
Will chop you down like an old dead tree
Dirty old town
Dirty old town

song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stories

Every year has its own stories in this life,
Every month has its own stories in this life,
Every week has its own stories in this life,
Every day has its own stories in this life,
Every hour has its own stories in this life,
Every minute has its own stories in this life,
And like the muse of the mind as we grow up;
So, we are all with stories to tell in this world.

As white as snow,
As red as blood,
As balck as charcoal,
As green as the grass,
As blue as the sky;
But everybody has stories to tell in this world!
And like the muse o love in the land of beauty,
For each year has its own story.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Baby In The House

I knew that a baby was hid in that house,
Though I saw no cradle and heard no cry;
But the husband was tip-toeing 'round like a mouse,
And the good wife was humming a soft lullaby;
And there was a look on the face of the mother,
That I knew could mean only one thing, and no other.

The mother, I said to myself, for I knew
That the woman before me was certainly that;
And there lay in a corner a tiny cloth shoe,
And I saw on a stand such a wee little hat;
And the beard of the husband said, plain as could be,
'Two fat chubby hands have been tugging at me.'

And he took from his pocket a gay picture-book,
And a dog that could bark, if you pulled on a string;
And the wife laid them up with such a pleased look;
And I said to myself, 'There is no other thing
But a babe that could bring about all this, and so
That one thing is in hiding somewhere, I know.'

I stayed but a moment, and saw nothing more,
And heard not a sound, yet I know I was right;
What else could the shoe mean that lay on the floor,
The book and the toy, and the faces so bright;
And what made the husband as still as a mouse?
I am sure, very sure, there's a babe in that house.

poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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In Big Brothers Eyes

In big Brother's eyes a great success in life
Yet he finds great pleasure in beating his wife
But such bad behaviour to little amount
They judge you far better by your bank account.

In Big Brother's eyes she is quite okay
Though the girls who work hard for her she underpay
That's not seen as cheating good business they say
Or getting rich quick in an underhand way.

He lives in the leafy suburb at a posh address
And Big Brother looks on him as a huge success
But every day of his life he lives with a lie
Narcotic addicted teenagers because of him die.

In Big Brother's eyes he is one to admire
And others to greater things he does inspire
Society stamps him with the approval seal
Though from others by stealth of deception he steal.

The bank manager he welcomes you with a smile
You've made your first million through deception and guile
You are a big hero in Big Brother's eyes
But lets face it Big Brother is not very wise.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Family life

At home
Husband
And wife...
Some time fighting...

Word's to words...
With bad words...
Sometime hit
The husband wife

Mistakes...
Wife was crying...
Husband was woory...
Wife also

Lovingely hit...
Husband also take easy...
At night husband
Wanted wife

For sex...
Wife will say
Backpain acting
Going for

Hear with life
Every day
At familylife...!

poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stories

Through every window, we look out
what we see on the other side
holds many stories waiting to unfold.
Stories of great achievements
within someone’s life.
Stories of gathering love
found with in open arms.
Stories of perusing heartaches
where someone has gone away.
Stories a million fold
that surround every living thing.
Stories we are not aware of,
but happen before our eyes.
Stories to share with all
from those who can see them unfold.
The next time you look out a window
try and see what is really there,
the stories that are everywhere.

26 July 2009

poem by David Harris
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Live For The Better

Jealous farmer stabs Pastor!
For the Pastor was having an affair with his wife;
Jealous husband stabs wife!
For his wife was having an affair with another man;
And like the stories we hear around the world,
But put off your old practices in life and, live for the better.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pretty woman

Pretty woman.
But wife is beautiful.
Pretty woman is hot.
But wife is the sexiest.
Pretty woman is just for sex.
But a wife is to make love.
Wife is a forbidden fruit.
To you and all.
and wife is more caring.
Be at home and by her husband.
and wife is the husband diamond.
And the husband love making love to her.
That no other women can.
Make him feel so good.
and her husband always in love.
With her.
And wife is the husband success.
Loving and warm full happiness.
She bears our children. And
She is the most gifted darling.

poem by See Fee Lee
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Party In A One Horse Town

It’s just me tonight that props the bar
Just arrived, didn’t come far
Decided on a party; had to be done
Gonna have my way, have my fun
Otherwise I’ll be feeling down
Party in a one horse town
Just me and Mr. Jukebox; party for fun
If I was the bullet she was the gun
She was the judge and I was the crime
She shot me down in my prime
The joke’s on me, I’m the clown
Party in a one horse town
I think I’ll have another just to help me sleep
Can’t leave now I’m in too deep
Funny how the wound gets bigger
Long after she pulled that trigger
The joke’s on me, I’m the clown
Here’s to the party in the one horse town
Here’s to the parting, one more for the road
I’ve finally figured out the secret code
One more dance to a different song
The wound’s as deep as the day is long
The joke’s on me, I’m the clown
Well here’s to the party in a one horse town

poem by Kris Whelan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just An Ordinary Fellow

His life revolves around work his mates and football
But his wife and children he seldom does talk of at all
Each evening after work he calls to the pub
Or else to the bar-room of the Football Club.

In his early to mid thirties he is well liked in the town
To have kicked five goals in the local Grand Final is his one claim to renown
And though his team did not win the flag he earned his local fame
With a best on ground display on a beaten side he made for himself a name.

His wife takes care of the children a boy of four and a girl of three
She is not well known in the town few as down to earth as she
So different from her husband she's never seen at the pub
And she is not a member of any local club.

He is a well liked character and in the town well known
And the local people say of him he is one of our own
Not a bad husband and father though better than him not hard to find
Just an ordinary fellow in his own way he is kind.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Border Town

An old caballero with his worn out sombrero
came riding into town.
The town had been banished. Everyone vanished.
It seems there was no one around.

The buildings were broken. No words were heard spoken.
Everyone now was all gone.
He'd once had a wife here and children with life here.
The banditos had come, killed and rode on.

He'd been away. He'd gone hunting that day
and returned to the grisly sight.
He'd buried his wife and his bambinos three
and rode away into the night.

He lived with the thought that he could have fought
if only he had been there.
The thought had ruined him and it consumed him
It was more than he could bear.

The shot from the gun was heard by no one.
He died right next to their grave.
He'd prayed to his God to forgive him
and that his soul He would save.
.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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Brandy

There's a port on a western bay
And it serves a hundred ships a day
Lonely sailors pass the time away
And talk about their homes
And there's a girl in this harbor town
And she works layin' whiskey down
They say "Brandy, fetch another round"
She serves them whiskey and wine
The sailors say "Brandy, you're a fine girl" (you're a fine girl)
"What a good wife you would be" (such a fine girl)
"Yeah your eyes could steal a sailor from the sea"
(dooda-dit-dooda), (dit-dooda-dit-dooda-dit)
Brandy wears a braided chain
Made of finest silver from the North of Spain
A locket that bears the name
Of the man that Brandy loves
He came on a summer's day
Bringin' gifts from far away
But he made it clear he couldn't stay
No harbor was his home
The sailor said " Brandy, you're a fine girl" (you're a fine girl)
"What a good wife you would be" (such a fine girl)
"But my life, my lover, my lady is the sea"
(dooda-dit-dooda), (dit-dooda-dit-dooda-dit)
Yeah, Brandy used to watch his eyes
When he told his sailor stories
She could feel the ocean foam rise
She saw its ragin' glory
But he had always told the truth, lord, he was an honest man
And Brandy does her best to understand
(dooda-dit-dooda), (dit-dooda-dit-dooda-dit)
At night when the bars close down
Brandy walks through a silent town
And loves a man who's not around
She still can hear him say
She hears him say " Brandy, you're a fine girl" (you're a fine girl)
"What a good wife you would be" (such a fine girl)
"But my life, my lover, my lady is the sea"
(dooda-dit-dooda), (dit-dooda-dit-dooda-dit)
"Brandy, you're a fine girl" (you're a fine girl)
FADE
"What a good wife you would be" (such a fine girl)
"But my life, my lover, my lady is the sea

song performed by by Red Hot Chili Peppers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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London Town

Walking down the sidewalk one purple afternoon,
I was accosted by a barker playing a simple tune upon his flute.
Toottoottoottoot.
Silver rain was falling down
Upon the dirty ground of london town.
People pass me by on my imaginary street,
Ordinary people its impossible to meet,
Holding conversations that are always incomplete.
Well I dont know.
Oh, where are there places to go?
Someone, somewhere has to know.
Idont know.
Out of work again,the actor entertains his wife
With the same old stories of his ordinary life.
Maybe he exaggerates the trouble and the strife.
Well, I dont know.
Oh, where are there places to go?
Someone, somewhere has to know.
Crawling down the pavement on a sunday afternoon,
I was arrested by a rozzer
Wearing a pink balloon about his foot.
Toot toot toot toot.
Silver rain was falling down
Upon the dirty ground of london town.
Someone, somewhere has to know.
Silver rain was falling down
Upon the dirty ground of london town.

song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Southern Woman

Written by james young, raymond brandle
Lead vocals by james young
First met you in a southern town
On a warm november day
You made me smoke like a whirlwind
I knew we had nothing to say
Love me but dont try and make me stay
Southern woman
Take my soul but dont you take my life
Southern woman
Make me feel good but dont you tell my wife
[guitar solo]
Once again in the early spring
I touched your ravens crown
Your wild eyed stories of rare delight
Like to knock me down
Its getting so damn hard to put you down
Southern woman
Take my soul but dont you take my life
Southern woman
Make me feel good but dont you tell my wife
[instrumental solos]
Southern woman
Take my soul but dont you take my life
Southern woman
Make me feel good but dont you tell my wife
Southern woman
Take my soul but dont you take my life
Southern woman
Make me feel good but dont you tell my wife
Southern woman
Yeah

song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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