En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Like Horny Men

Don’t let the chickens out
Uncle said

close the gate
we don’t want

the foxes getting in
and tearing them

to pieces
because they will you know

they’ll go in for the kill
but maybe only go off

with one
and you stared

at the chickens
running around

as Uncle went
into the henhouse

to collect eggs
amongst the straw

and hay and feathers
you want to come in

and find the eggs with me?
Uncle called

and you followed him
into the henhouse

and smelt the henny stink
and shit and closeness

of hay and straw
getting up your nose

and Uncle held up an egg
and said

be careful how you hold them
don’t want any broken ones

and you searched
amongst hay and straw

and feathers and picked out
a warm egg between

your little boy finger and thumb
as if it were some gem

pulled from a pile of dung
and you held it up

to the light coming through
the henhouse window

like some offering
to the gods

a fertility symbol
you knew nothing

about then
the ways

of wild women
and horny men.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Eggxample

What came first chickens or eggs?
Chickens of course!
Chickens have legs!

Chickens have feathers,
Eggs have a shell,
How would you like your eggs, done well?

This may be a 'yolk',
But consider it folk!

poem by Ernestine Northover
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Uncle Sam

Here they come again hop scotching up to my door
One by one again knockety knock knocking upon my floor
Swinging on my gate they gain entry by the yard
Pulling at my hair they scream paint your thoughts upon my card
But not tonight Ive got studies to examine
Tomorrow Ill be watching all the queens men
A talent contest on monday with my uncle sam
Who now takes up all of my time he gives me things to do
cause hes a wonderful man
But Im sailing across the sea to see my uncle sam
Im sailing across the sea to be with my uncle sam
To be with my uncle sam
Silly little sniggers from the women liberators
But Ill stand and hold my post
Polished buttons and erect Ill raise the flag
Ill show those women whos the most
But not tonight Ive got studies to examine
Tomorrow Ill be watching all the queens men
A talent contest on monday with my uncle sam
Who now takes up all of my time, gives me things to do
Hes a wonderful man
But Im sailing across the sea to see my uncle sam
Im sailing across the sea to be with my uncle sam
Im sailing across the sea to see my uncle sam
Im sailing across the sea to be with my uncle sam
But not tonight Ive got studies to examine
Tomorrow ah ah ah
And tomorrow Ill be watching all the queens men
A talent contest on monday with my uncle sam
Who now takes up all of my time he gives me things to do
cause hes a wonderful man
Im sailing across the sea to see my uncle sam
Im sailing across the sea to be with my uncle sam
Im sailing across the sea to see my uncle sam
Im sailing across the sea to be with my uncle sam

song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Uncle Toad Said

Uncle toad sittin by the old south gate
Waitin them boys they bin stayin out late
Uncle toad thinks theyre way out of line
Maybe they think he is past his prime
Uncle toad said better straighten up right
When uncle toad spoke it was not a pretty sight
Uncle toad lived in the wood out back
Lived in the shade of a utility shack
He looked in at the big brick housr
At the girls as quiet as a mouse
Uncle toad said you had best get it right
When uncle toad spoke it was not a pretty sight
Uncle toad tucked in the compost pile
Out by the back door look at him smile
He said kid stop drinkin that brew
Plan while ya can or the jokes on you
Uncle toad said better straighten up right
When uncle toad spoke it was not a pretty sight
Uncle toad sittin by the swimmin pool
Sits in the sun when the weather turns cool
Sits in the sun when the girls walk by
Maybe they think hes a little bit sly
Uncle toad said you had best get it right
When uncle toad spoke it was not a pretty sight
Uncle toad sittin by the cool mill race
All day long with a grin on his face
He said boys you had better not try
Kissin em girls cause I wont stand by
Uncle toad sittin by the wrought iron fence
Lookin at the moon like it dont make sense
We say toad heres lookin at you
Hopin you get your wish too
Sway to the left, sway to the right
When uncle toad spoke it was not a pretty sight

song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Night I Dreamed of Chickens

Last night I dreamed of chickens,
there were chickens everywhere,
they were standing on my stomach,
they were nesting in my hair,
they were pecking at my pillow,
they were hopping on my head,
they were ruffling up their feathers
as they raced about my bed.

They were on the chairs and tables,
they were on the chandeliers,
they were roosting in the corners,
they were clucking in my ears,
there were chickens, chickens, chickens
for as far as I could see...
when I woke today, I noticed
there were eggs on top of me.

poem by Jack Prelutsky
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Aint Nobody Here But Us Chickens

(j. cramer/j. whitney)
One night farmer brown was taken the air
Locked up the barnyard with the greatest of care
Down in the henhouse somethin stirred
When he shouted,whos there? , this is what he heard
There aint nobody here but us chickens, there aint nobody here at all
So calm yourself, stop that fuss, aint nobody here but us
Were chickens trying to sleep and you butt in
And hobble, hobble, hobble, hobble with your chin
There aint nobody here but us chickens, there aint nobody here at all
Youre stompin around, shakin the ground, kickin up an aweful dust
Were chickens trying to sleep and you butt in
And hobble, hobble, hobble, hobble, its a sin
(bridge)
Tomorrow is a busy day, weve got things to do, weve got eggs to lay
We got ground to dig and worms to scratch
Takes a lot of sittin gettin chicks to hatch
There aint nobody here but us chickens, there aint nobody here at all
So quiet yourself, stop that fuss, aint nobody here but us
Kindly point that gun the other way
And hobble, hobble, hobble off and hit the hay
(repeat bridge)
Its easy pickin, aint nobody here but us chickens

song performed by by Lisa Stansfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Uncle's Shave.

Uncle’s Shave.

You used to watch Uncle
shave in front of the small mirror

propped on the edge
of the kitchen sink,

his face lathered
in white soap,

his cutthroat razor
held just a short distance

from his skin
by his right hand,

as the other hand
held the skin taut

in preparation
of the razor’s slide.

You stood behind
fascinated,

your young eyes
searching the mirror’s world

of Uncle’s face
and the performers start.

Uncle watched you
in the mirror,

his lips breaking
into a small smile,

the razor held
just above his ear,

his eyes staring above
the shaving foam,

taking in
your fascinated gaze,

the open mouth,
your hands copying

Uncle’s motion
in pretend shave.

Uncle drew the razor down
his cheek in slow motion,

the face becoming visible
as the soap gave way,

the hand dipping
the razor in water

to rid of foam,
to begin again,

more soap removed,
more skin revealed.

You copied Uncle,
but not so skilled.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Uncle Gay

I can not say in a way,
That would for anyone be understood.
But I have an uncle named Gayhall,
Who stands for me very tall.

A minister he is,
With a wife Pamela and two adorable kids.
Well...
They are no longer 'kids'.
Two beautiful women I 'should' say.
Nicole and Tiffany...
Each with a uniqueness,
Anyone can see.

Although my Uncle Gay,
Has been sick of late.
I hate the fact that he's like that.
But what can I do,
Besides pray from my Uncle Gay?

I 'see' him getting better,
Each day as I 'visualize'.
I want his health to return to him.
Because he is very special,
In my eyes.

I love my aunts and uncles...
As 'if' they were mine!
And...
Hey,
They are 'mine'!
Well...
Let me define what it is I want God to do!

'God,
I know for a fact...
You are with me all the time!
But...
Will You heal my Uncle Gay?
Right 'now'!
And...
Today! '

Dedicated to:
My Uncle Reverand Gayhall Pertillar.
Harrisburg, Pennsylvania

'Love you, Uncle Gay...
Pam and 'kids'.'

Nephew Larry

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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As My Uncle Used To Say

I've thought a power on men and things,
As my uncle ust to say,--
And ef folks don't work as they pray, i jings!
W'y, they ain't no use to pray!
Ef you want somepin', and jes dead-set
A-pleadin' fer it with both eyes wet,
And _tears_ won't bring it, w'y, you try _sweat_,
As my uncle ust to say.

They's some don't know their A, B, Cs,
As my uncle ust to say,
And yit don't waste no candle-grease,
Ner whistle their lives away!
But ef they can't write no book, ner rhyme
No ringin' song fer to last all time,
They can blaze the way fer the march sublime,
As my uncle ust to say.

Whoever's Foreman of all things here,
As my uncle ust to say,
He knows each job 'at we 're best fit fer,
And our round-up, night and day:
And a-sizin' _His_ work, east and west,
And north and south, and worst and best
I ain't got nothin' to suggest,
As my uncle ust to say.

poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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September Chill.

Uncle brings in the dead chicken by
The neck and begins plucking out the
Feathers with a skill that fascinates
Your 10 year old eyes and as you stand
And watch the chicken gradually becomes
Nude and some how not so grand not so
Chicken-like and then Uncle cuts off the
Head and throws it a side and then guts
It and washes it through with water and
Then puts it down on a large plate where
It lays in a solemn silence without fanfare
Or hymns or prayers just Uncle lighting up
A cigarette and you staring at the chicken
Clean and pure and still and from the open
Window a cool evening late September chill.

poem by Terry Collett
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Tortoise's feathers

Among the ruins I sat on a stone bench facing an isolated pond.
All of a sudden a tortoise came up from the muddy water.
And she's older than my Great Grandma it seems,
But she called me uncle.
Oh! How I am wearied along this useless journey?
'Hey! Uncle this isn't an ideal place to roam around,
I'll give you my feathers better you fly and try another place.'
I borrowed her feathers and said; 'Thank you.'
I flew the whole day but still I see the pond below
And I realized that I cannot fly anymore leaving the ruins.

* To the deceased Sri Lankan Veteran Dramatist Actor and Author Henry. Jayasena in gratitude.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Bond Made In Heaven

we have a unique bond,
strengthened over a period of time,
over four years to be exact.
a gentleman,
an uncle in a million.
a great poet,
a friend,
and an advisor,
I am truly blessed
with the best uncle anyone could wish for
a man of compassion
for whom I have great respect
my uncle dearest
and I his niece
never a word out of place
thank you Uncle dearest
for keeping me in prayers
and always wishing for me the best

poem by Persian Khushi
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Shortest Straw

Suspicion is your name
Your honesty to blame
Put dignity to shame
Dishonor
Witchhunt, modern day
Determining decay
The blatant disarray
Disfigure
The public eyes' disgrace
Defying common place
Unending paper chase
Unending
Deafening
Painstaking
Reckoning
This vertigo it doth bring
Shortest straw
Challenge liberty
Downed by law
Live in infamy
Rub you raw
Witchhunt riding through
Shortest straw
This shortest straw has been pulled for you
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Shortest straw has been pulled for you
The accusations fly
Discrimination, why?
Your inner self to die
Intruding
Doubt sunk itself in you
It's teeth and talons through
You're living catch-22
Deluding
A mass hysteria
A megalomania
Reveal dementia
Reveal
Secretly
Silently
Certainly
In vertigo you will be
Shortest straw
Challenge liberty
Downed by law
Live in infamy
Rub you raw
Witchhunt riding through
Shortest straw
This shortest straw has been pulled for you
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Shortest straw has been pulled for you
Shortest straw
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Shortest straw has been pulled for you
Behind you, hands are tied
Your being, ostracized
Your hell is multiplied
Upending
The fallout has begun
Oppressive damage done
Your many turned to none
To nothing
You're reaching your nadir
Your will has disappeared
The lie is crystal clear
Defending
Channels red
One word said
Blacklisted
With vertigo make you dead
Shortest straw
Challenge liberty
Downed by law
Live in infamy
Rub you raw
Witchhunt riding through
Shortest straw
This shortest straw has been pulled for you

song performed by by Metallica
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Shortest Straw

Suspicion Is Your Name
Your Honesty to Blame
Put Dignity to Shame
Dishonor
Witchhunt Modern Day
Determining Decay
The Blattand Disarray
Disfigure
The Public Eyes' Disgrace
Defying Common Place
Unending Paper Chase
Unending

Deafening
Painstaking
Reckoning
This Vertigo it Doth Bring

Shortest Straw
Challenge Liberty
Downed by Law
Live in Infamy
Rub You Raw
Witchhunt Riding Through
Shortest Straw
This Shortest Straw Has Been Pulled for You

Pulled for You
Shortest Straw
Pulled for You
Shortest Straw
Pulled for You
Shortest Straw
Shortest Straw Has Been Pulled for You

The Accusations Fly
Discrimination

song performed by by Metallica from ...And Justice For All
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If you go fishing and catch nothing, go to the henhouse and get eggs.

Sicilian proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Uncle’s Car Key

A single key in a little bunch
The key to life it is not
So little a key but have this punch
When uncle’s blood is hot.

Some men I know can lend this key
But some are worse to stand
A friend it is that lets me be
But uncle’s spite must land

This key to Golf I turned upwards
And got rains of hot words
My uncle raved and ranted as hell
In words thoughtful as they tell

This his point was stressed again
As the old year passed with glee
My resolution strong and comes like train
To avoid uncle’s car key

poem by Tonimario Onyedika Oboshi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Uncle’s Hat

Uncle’s hat
A black little hat
Thrown by a cat
And left out to be wet
Uncle trembled
And shouted aloud
“Who left my hat
To wet out side
The cat mewed
Uncle fumed
“What a naughty cat”.

poem by Dilipbhasker Mathra
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Uncle Pen

Oh, the people would come from far and away,
They'd dance all night 'till the break of day,
When the caller would holler "Do-si-do,"
You knew Uncle Pen was ready to go.
Late in the evening about sun down,
High on the hill and above the town,
Uncle Pen played the fiddle, lord a how it'd ring,
You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing.
Oh, he played an old piece he called Soldier's Joy,
And he had one he called Boston Boy,
The greatest of all was Ginny Lyn,
To me that's where the fiddlin begin.
(chorus)
Oh, I'll never forget that mournful day,
When Uncle Pen was called away,
They hung up his fiddle, they hung up his bow,
You knew it was time for him to go.
(chorus)

song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ballad of Uncle Mukungu

He's my uncle and to my father a brother,
To many a darling or to all and sundry rather;
A pot of knowledge unique, and of humor and quit,
And queer a sight, a wonder as right.

This mine uncle as much do I love,
For he be within and near must cause me to laugh;
And you, liking or not whether,
Never can stand my uncle's weather.

I won't tell all- my uncle's long,
A story you would love as of humor strong;
I will do you a bit, and perhaps a bit more,
Of Mukungu's sweet and sometimes some sore.

At class three a dropout my uncle became,
And thus many had it- uncle has lost his aim;
But no! Who harbored thoughts so was but mistaken,
Listen to Mukungu and your ribs will be shaken.

His talk will behind leave no bit of sagacity,
That bit by bit and all kills ambiance of solemnity;
To imbue the air and emotion with humor high and enough,
To bury hate option and hatch of uncle to love.

Uncle is a guru of eating great,
And many a cuisine none he does hate;
And thus he's indefatigable bull of village,
Cuts through others like a sharpest edge.

Perfect artist he is and scientist as well,
He'll sing a song and tell the stars fell;
He has his language and in he's a virtuoso,
Moreover he acts and he's a star so.

poem by Willy Munyoki
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My Uncle is a Soldier

My uncle is a soldier
a soldier of the U.S. Navy Seabees
he helps people day in and day out
to reach their right to be free
My uncle is a soldier
in a poor foreign land
he helps people's villages
with no guns but the strength of his hands
My uncle is a soldier
but much more than that to me
My uncle is a soldier
and a hero to our family

poem by Krystian Huizar
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Uncle Arthur

Strikes the bell for 5 oclock, uncle arthur closes shop
Screws the tops on all the bottles, turns the lights out, locks it up
Climbs across his bike and hes away
Cycles past the gasworks, past the river, down the high street
Back to mother, its another empty day
Uncle arthur likes his mommy
Uncle arthur still reads comics
Uncle arthur follows batman
Round and round the rumours fly, how he ran away from mum
On his 32nd birthday, told her that hed found a chum
Mother cried and raved and yelled and fussed
Arthur left her no illusion, brought the girl round, save confusion
Sally was the real thing, not just lust
Uncle arthur vanished quickly
Uncle arthur and his new bride
Uncle arthur follows sally
Round and round goes arthurs head, hasnt eaten well for days
Little sally may be lovely, but cooking leaves her in a maze
Uncle arthur packed his bags and fled
Back to mother, alls forgiven, serving in the family shop
He gets his pocket money, hes well fed
Uncle arthur past the gasworks
Uncle arthur past the river
Uncle arthur down the high street
Uncle arthur follows mother

song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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