Henry and Woman Servicing
You don't want to go
With that kind of woman,
Henry's mother said.
What kind of woman
is that? Henry asked.
The kind that offer
themselves to men
who are not their
husbands, his mother
replied, sitting back
in the soft chair by
the fireplace, joining
her fingers, forming
what she used to call
her church. Henry watched
her church form of finger
forming, his eyes sliding
over his mother's dyed
hair, the grey streaks,
the nose, the thin red
painted lips. But isn't
that kind of women
providing a service?
Henry asked, walking
to the window, watching
his father mowing the
lawn, sweat on the brow,
the eyes dead looking.
Service? His mother said,
her tone icy, Service?
She repeated, that's not
service, Henry that's sin.
S.I.N. Henry raised his
eyebrows, there was in
the pocket of his pants,
a pack of fives, unused
as yet. Oh, Henry said,
Duncan Smold had this
woman in the back of
his car, he called it hard
smooching or some such
word. Henry's mother
eyed him closely, her eyes
narrowing. Then he sinned,
Henry, he sinned, she said,
pushing a hand through
her hair, her features going
red. Oh, right, Henry said,
I'll tell Duncan next time
he's in his car with some
woman in the back, that
he's sinning, Henry turned
away, he didn't want his
mother to see him grinning.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Please, Mrs. Henry
Well, i've already had two beers
I'm ready for the broom
Please, missus henry, won't you
Take me to my room?
I'm a good ol' boy
But i've been sniffin' too many eggs
Talkin' to too many people
Drinkin' too many kegs
Please, missus henry, missus henry, please!
Please, missus henry, missus henry, please!
I'm down on my knees
An' i ain't got a dime
Well, i'm groanin' in a hallway
Pretty soon i'll be mad
Please, missus henry, won't you
Take me to your dad?
I can drink like a fish
I can crawl like a snake
I can bite like a turkey
I can slam like a drake
Please, missus henry, missus henry, please!
Please, missus henry, missus henry, please!
I'm down on my knees
An' i ain't got a dime
Now, don't crowd me, lady
Or i'll fill up your shoe
I'm a sweet bourbon daddy
An' tonight i am blue
I'm a thousand years old
And i'm a generous bomb
I'm t-boned and punctured
But i'm known to be calm
Please, missus henry, missus henry, please!
Please, missus henry, missus henry, please!
I'm down on my knees
An' i ain't got a dime
Now, i'm startin' to drain
My stool's gonna squeak
If i walk too much farther
My crane's gonna leak
Look, missus henry
There's only so much i can do
Why don't you look my way
An' pump me a few?
Please, missus henry, missus henry, please!
Please, missus henry, missus henry, please!
I'm down on my knees
An' i ain't got a dime
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Walter Henry Hagan
Walter, walter henry
I say walter henry hagan
You done gone and broke my heart
Walter, walter henry
You know that I believed you
When you swore wed never part
Well you said you had to have me
And well you dang well did
You took me from my country home
When I was just a kid
And you took me off to boston
Put a baby on my knee
Left me to dangle-dingle
So far from tennessee
Now patrick might have been one
But you aint been no saint
But a good ole irish boy
They say well always have this drink
And you just wont stop chasin
All those other woman around
A ramblin and agamblin
Throwin irish whiskey down
Walter, walter henry
Walter henry hagan
You dont listen when I call
Walter, walter henry
Of all the men Ive ever loved
I loved you best of all
Oh play one for ol walter henry boys
Walter, walter henry
Walter henry hagan
You done left your mark on me
Walter, walter henry
If you ever sober up
Im waitin back in tennessee
If you ever sober up
Im waitin back in tennessee
Walter, walter henry
Yoddle-le-ee-hee
Yoddle-le-ee-hee
Walter henry hagan
You done left your mark on me
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Loving Henry
Henry, Henry, do you love me?
Do I love you, Mary?
Oh, can you mean to liken me
To the aspen tree.
Whose leaves do shake and vary,
From white to green
And back again,
Shifting and contrary?
Henry, Henry, do you love me,
Do you love me truly?
Oh, Mary, must I say again
My love's a pain,
A torment most unruly?
It tosses me
Like a ship at sea
When the storm rages fully.
Henry, Henry, why do you love me?
Mary, dear, have pity!
I swear, of all the girls there are
Both near and far,
In country or in city,
There's none like you,
So kind, so true,
So wise, so brave, so pretty.
poem by Robert Graves
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Dont Ya Tell Henry
Dont ya tell henry,
Apples got your fly.
I went down to the river on a saturday morn,
A-lookin around just to see whos born.
I found a little chicken down on his knees,
I went up and yelled to him,
Please, please, please!
He said, dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Apples got your fly.
I went down to the corner at a-half past ten,
Is lookin around, I wouldnt say when.
I looked down low, I looked above,
And who did I see but the one I love.
She said, dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Apples got your fly.
Now, I went down to the beanery at half past twelve,
A-lookin around just to see myself.
I spotted a horse and a donkey, too,
I looked for a cow and I saw me a few.
They said, dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Apples got your fly.
Now, I went down to the pumphouse the other night,
A-lookin around, it was outa sight.
I looked high and low for that big ol tree,
I did go upstairs but I didnt see nobody but me.
I said, dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Apples got your fly.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Henry And That Kind Of Kissing
Women kissing each other
on cheeks the friends
meeting for coffee kind
not the passionate
let's get to bed
and kiss
and indulge kind
but Henry wishes
the women at the coffee bar
were of that kind
just to break the boringness
of the day
just so he can get through
the hour without
the boring chitchat
of others around
on who was doing
what to whom
and who has just had
their kids in the right
kind of school
or whose husband
has made the grade
for body climbing
back stabbing promotion
oh if only
Henry thinks
that the dames
could embrace
and undress
and get down
to the woman to woman thing
right here
in the coffee bar
and he'd promise
he'd not spill a dropp
of his latte
or faint
or look away.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Henry and the Scheme of Things.
It was all part of the scheme
of things Henry thought and
even when the women looked
at him with that odd curiosity
he never failed (at least not in
the beginning) to make a score
usually with one of the females
less prettier than the ones who
left before and after taking her
for the drink and meal routine
and maybe to the cinema he took
her back to his place and poured
her a drink and put on a cool jazz
record on the hifi and set her down
on the sofa and she talked and he
watched her lips move the lipstick
red the kind his mother used to wear
and her nose was kind of pointed and
lifted up at the end and her words
went over his head he wasn't interested
in her philosophy of being or what
she had bought at the last sale he
studied her chin the way it rose and
fell as she spoke the words pouring
out and he said look Honey I know
you like to talk but how about you
and me going to bed? Oh she said I
haven't told you about the time I
went to New York and so Henry lay
back on the sofa closed his eyes
and let her talk a jazz saxophone
filling in behind her voice the record
turning her mouth opening and closing
and he thought of time passing and
remembering his mother's red lipstick
mouth scolding and after boredom had
set in deep he drifted off to sexless sleep.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Smile To Remember
we had goldfish and they circled around and around
in the bowl on the table near the heavy drapes
covering the picture window and
my mother, always smiling, wanting us all
to be happy, told me, 'be happy Henry!'
and she was right: it's better to be happy if you
can
but my father continued to beat her and me several times a week while
raging inside his 6-foot-two frame because he couldn't
understand what was attacking him from within.
my mother, poor fish,
wanting to be happy, beaten two or three times a
week, telling me to be happy: 'Henry, smile!
why don't you ever smile?'
and then she would smile, to show me how, and it was the
saddest smile I ever saw
one day the goldfish died, all five of them,
they floated on the water, on their sides, their
eyes still open,
and when my father got home he threw them to the cat
there on the kitchen floor and we watched as my mother
smiled
poem by Charles Bukowski
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Come On Henry
Come on Henry she said
come up and see me some
time but Henry said sorry
dame but I can't today it's
just not possible the wife's
coming back from the shops
and you know what wives are
like and she said oh come
on Henry that's not stopped
you before climbing the stairs
and knocking my door oh that
was for sugar or was it coffee?
Henry said I cannot recall oh
heck Henry don't be such a bore
you've been to my bed many
times before oh Honey don't
be so with me now I got to be
careful the wife's in a mood
the neighbours are talking they
twitch their curtains and peek
through blinds oh to hell with
them she said they've filthy old
minds oh listen baby maybe
tomorrow when the wife's away
I‘ll come borrow some sugar or
coffee or whatever you like and
share your bed you'll come now
Henry or not come at all the young
dame said oh come on sugar give
me a break let me come another
time and I will bring flowers and
chocolates and love and my body
hot ok she said if you promise me
such I'll cut to a break not for you
or your body but my heart's sake.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Henry Miller wrote novels, but he calls his protagonist Henry, often Henry Miller, and his books are in this gray area between memoir and novel.
quote by Leslie Fiedler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Life Of Mary O’Henry & Simon Le Frankie
Is life chance, or pre-ordained
Is life chance, or pre-ordained
Mary O’Henry,
Was born in a time when the world was at war
Nobody saw
Grew up an orphan
Struggling through life never knowing there’s more
Than being wretchedly poor
Oh life can hold so much pain
You wonder why it should be so
There but for the grace of God, walks another
In sullen steps that could have been you
Is life chance, or pre-ordained
(The life of Mary O’Henry & Simon Le Frankie)
Is life chance, or pre-ordained
(The life of Mary O’Henry & Simon Le Frankie)
Simon Le Frankie,
was born with a headline in the Times
a paradigm
he grew up wealthy
living his life to the full, life can be so good, I guess as it should
Oh life can be endless champagne
You wonder why it should be so
There but for the grace of God walks another
In graceful steps that could have been you
Is life chance, or pre-ordained
(The life of Mary O’Henry & Simon Le Frankie)
Is life chance, or pre-ordained
(The life of Mary O’Henry & Simon Le Frankie)
Mary O’Henry - Grew into a woman, working wherever she could
In places no woman should, luckless in Hollywood
Simon Le Frankie – wondered the world on a wave that trebled in size
Until he died – they died the same time
Atlas in turmoil
Life is choices made in a game
Who moves the pieces
Is life chance or pre-ordained
Is life chance, or pre-ordained
(The life of Mary O’Henry & Simon Le Frankie)
Is life chance, or pre-ordained
(The life of Mary O’Henry & Simon Le Frankie)
poem by Colin Coplin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Case Of The Demon Drink
How many times have we heard
alcohol called the demon drink,
many.many times I suppose,
but there is no such thing as the demon drink.
Now when Jesus turned water into wine,
I’m sure that he didn’t put any demons in it
just to spice it up.
The demon drink as it is called
originated with the Temperance Movement.
Astonishing enough the movement was not started
by a woman, but was formed by a man.
What I am about to tell you
is the untold story about its origins.
It all started in the early 1800’s
with Henry Whittle and his wife Gertrude.
Now Henry was a boozer
who could lay the drink down
with the best of them.
One night he got carried away
on a sea of alcohol.
He went so far that
he wasn’t sure just where he lived.
He left his friends at the bar
and off he staggered.
He found the street where he lived
and staggered down it.
What house did he live at he wasn’t really sure.
All he knew was his Gertrude
always left the door unlocked for him.
He began to try the doors one by one,
when one opened
he quickly stumbled in.
He climbed the stairs as quietly as he could,
shucking his clothes as he went.
Until finally all that he had on
was his red long johns and his boots.
He tiptoed along to the bedroom
where he could hear Gertrude snoring.
Moving inside he climbed into bed.
What Henry didn’t know
he was in the wrong house.
The house belonged to Pierre the lumberjack,
and when he climbed into bed,
he climbed in bed it was with Pierre.
As you don’t cut down trees in the winter,
Pierre had come home.
He was a big man
with a big red Santa Claus beard,
and Henry had crawled into bed with him.
Morning awoke and so did Henry
just as Pierre rolled over.
Henry stared wide-eyed,
confronting the bushy whiskers of Pierre.
Henry’s first thoughts were
Gertrude had grown a beard overnight.
He rolled his eyes around
staring at the bushy faced figure,
then realise it was not Gertrude, but Pierre.
You can imagine his horror
as he slipped out of bed,
gathered up his clothes and ran.
Getting outside he darted up the road
with the back of his red long johns flapping.
People in the street looked around
at Henry doing a moony
and shook their heads.
We can imagine what they were thinking.
Finally, Henry got home
and who was waiting for him,
Gertrude with a rolling pin in hand.
“What floozy were you with last night? ”
She asked. “Don’t you like to me.”
Before Henry could answer,
the rolling pin came down
and Henry saw stars.
As a consequence,
Henry never drank again.
He tried to encourage his friends
to do the same.
The Temperance Movement was born
and Henry’s alcoholic demons
died of dehydration.
After that, he walked around
with a sign saying
DOWN WITH THE DEMON DRINK.
1 April 2008
Happy April Fools Day.
Hoping no one fooled you today.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Best Bet On Chinaski - Better Day B-side
Henry took out all the wrong and never thought
Do you know what hed say, its a beautiful day
Henry took out all his money and found he had none
Do you know what hed say, its a beautiful day
And he would not buy the things that you were handing down
And he would not clear it off for you and leave you lying down
Henry found the love and he found it just today
Do you know what hed say, its beautiful day
Put my face in all the things that Ive never done
Do you know what hed say, its beautiful day
And he would not follow things that others said or done
And he would not follow things that you call everyone
cause henry found the note and he found it hard to give away
Do you know what hed say, its a beautiful thing
Bottled up a ticket to God knows where
Do you know what he said to the driver, its a beautiful day
And he would not follow things that you were handing down
And he would not buy the alternate news when the dogs were being drowned
cause henry found the love and he found it today
Do you know what hed say, its a beautiful thing
And you know what he knows, that its a beautiful day
And you know what hed say, that its a beautiful day
cause henry got it all and he found it just today
Do you know what hed say, its a beautiful day...
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Henry King
The Chief Defect of Henry King
Was chewing little bits of String.
At last he swallowed some which tied
Itself in ugly Knots inside.
Physicians of the Utmost Fame
Were called at once; but when they came
They answered, as they took their Fees,
"There is no Cure for this Disease.
"Henry will very soon be dead.''
His Parents stood about his Bed
Lamenting his Untimely Death,
When Henry, with his Latest Breath,
Cried, "Oh, my Friends, be warned by me,
That Breakfast, Dinner, Lunch, and Tea
Are all the Human Frame requires...''
With that, the Wretched Child expires.
poem by Hilaire Belloc
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King Henry: Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all.
line from Henry VI, Act III, Scene 3, script by William Shakespeare (1590)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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King Henry: All things are ready, if our minds be so.
line from Henry V by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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King Henry: But if it be a sin to covet honor,
I am the most offending soul alive.
line from Henry V, Act IV, Scene 3 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Warwick: Henry now lives in Scotland at his ease,
Where having nothing, nothing can he lose.
line from King Henry VI, Act III, Scene 3 by William Shakespeare (1590)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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King Henry: Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
line from Henry IV, Act III, Scene 1, script by William Shakespeare (1597)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Outside snow dazzled the air
each joyous dream bit twirling out from infinity
as I sat in Meng’s with the crew
watching the soothing streets without desire.
Suddenly I heard the exuberant sound of a kazoo
going at full blast, Yankee Doodle Dandy the tune,
or something close to it
and that could only mean one person, Henry Kosminski,
known to all the world as The Original Mr. Universe
here to earn a few dollars,
as he often did since his retirement from the circus.
Well, at the age of 92 I suppose he couldn’t do
what he did as a young fellow.
Besides seventy years at the same job was enough for any man.
Ginger, Sugar, and Susan Honey Baker
gawked at Kosminski’s still formidable physique
his body still retaining remnants of glory.
Now silence as Henry bent straight down,
lifted a chair by the bottom of one leg
straight into the air, then gently placed
the tip of the leg on his nose, removed his hand,
and left the chair balanced there.
Ginger, Sugar, and Susan Honey Baker
clapped without reservation and
while the chair still perched serenely on his nose
he played the kazoo.
At the conclusion of this demonstration
of strength, skill, and musical ability
he sat at their table and they each handed him a five
a moment later Huey brought
a steaming bowl of oatmeal
topped with six soft prunes which Henry eagerly slurped down
as this was his only meal of the day,
the money collected most certainly
used to buy trinkets for his mother
still alive at the age of 110 in the Half Moon Nursing Home.
“God loves Henry Kosminski, ” I announced.
Mary Dillion said, “Long life is a marvelous wonder.”
“He’s a great man, ” said Pete Bennell,
“all these years and he still takes care of his mother.”
George Lowrie opened a small brown bottle,
swallowed pills, how many I didn’t know
nor did Lowrie, finally, “I’ll never see 38, ” he said.
“Take a few more, ” said Mary and Lowrie did so.
Of course, I felt pity, his lifelong depression a brutal curse,
but the snow and the sight of Henry slurping prunes
tilted joy my way and I held fast to such a precious item
even when I heard Lowrie say, “What do they talk about? ”
poem by Charles Chaim Wax
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William Rufus
The reign of King William the Second
Were an uninteresting affair
There's only two things that's remembered of him
That's his sudden death and his red hair.
He got his red hair from his Mother,
The crown that he wore were his Dad's,
And the arrow that came at the end of his reign
Were a well-deserved gift from the lads.
For William were cunning and cruel,
Addicted to every vice
He'd bluster and perjure and ravage and murder,
Apart from all that... he weren t nice.
He'd two brothers called Robert and Henry,
One older, one younger than he,
And by terms of the Will of old Conqueror Bill
The estate had been split into three.
Thus William became King of England;
And Normandy... that went to Bob;
Young Hal got no throne, but received a cash bonus
Instead of a regular job.
But Bob weren't content with his Dukedom,
And Will weren't content with his throne
Both wanted the lot and each started to plot
How to add t'other share to his own.
Young Hal went from one to the other,
Telling each as be thought he were right,
And mixing the pudding he roused the bad blood in
Them both till they reckoned they'd fight.
So Will got his army together
And planned an invasion of France,
But HaI chanced to find out what Will had in mind
And sent Robert a line in advance.
The result were when Bill crossed the Channel,
Instead of t'surprise that were meant,
He was met on the shore by Duke Bob and his Normans.
And came back as fast as he went.
And later when Bob crossed to England,
Intending to ravage and sack,
It were Henry again who upset the campaign
And t'were Robert this time that went back
After one or two sim'lar debacles
They tumbled to Henry's tricks,
And joined with each other to find their young brother
And take him and knock him for six.
But Henry got wind of their coming,
And made off without more ado
To his fortified pitch on the Isle of St. Michel,
From which he cocked snooks at the two.
When they found things had come to a deadlock
They shook hands and called it a day,
But though Henry pretended that quarrels was ended
He still had a card he could play.
He came back to England with William
And started a whispering campaign
To spoil his prestige with his vassals and lieges
Which whispering wasn't in vain.
For one day when William were hunting
An arrow from somewhere took wing,
And William were shot, falling dead on the spot,
And Henry proclaimed himself King.
So young Henry, who started with nothing,
At the finish held England in thrall,
And as Bob were away with a party Crusading,
He pinched his possessions and all.
poem by Marriott Edgar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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