Children: Private Ward
Here in this dim, dull, double-bedded room,
I play the father to a brace of boys,
Ailing but apt for every sort of noise,
Bedfast but brilliant yet with health and bloom.
Roden, the Irishman, is 'sieven past,'
Blue-eyed, snub-nosed, chubby, and fair of face.
Willie's but six, and seems to like the place,
A cheerful little collier to the last.
They eat, and laugh, and sing, and fight, all day;
All night they sleep like dormice. See them play
At Operations:- Roden, the Professor,
Saws, lectures, takes the artery up, and ties;
Willie, self-chloroformed, with half-shut eyes,
Holding the limb and moaning-Case and Dresser.
poem by William Ernest Henley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Time For Tea
Scouring through the wasteland
With an uge to take
Anything that comes into view
Only ten more puffs to tea time
Ive found eating so time consuming
Willie, oh willie she cried
Its time for tea
Willie, where in hell has he gone
Its time for tea
South of the wateland at your d.i.y.
The inconsiderate rings his till
Offering plans of easy credit
Claims hell cause a killing in the school half term
Willie, oh willie she cried
Its time for tea
Willie, where in hell has he gone
Its time for tea
And welly well well well what have I found here
A hiding place made by frigid air
I think Ill try it on and give my mates a scare
Theyll all be searching neither here nor there
Willie, oh willie she cried
Its time for tea
Willie, where in hell has he gone
Its time for tea
Long depress of autumn breeze
Sucking on a rubber back teeth
Plays into the hands of the hardware man
Who selfishly I dont care
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Down On The Corner (feat. Lance Diamond)
Early on the evening, just about suppertime
Over by the courthouse, they're startin' to unwind
Poor kids on the corner tryin' to bring you up
Willie picks a tune out and he knows they gonna start
Down on the corner
Out in the street
Willie and the Poor Boys are playin'
Bring a nickel tap your feet
Johnny hits the washboard, people just gotta smile
Robby thumbs a gut-bass and solos for a while
Poor boy brings the rhythm on his kalamazoo
And Willie goes into a dance doubles on kazoo, hey!
Down on the corner
Out in the street
Willie and the Poor Boys are playin'
Bring a nickel tap your feet
Down on the corner
Out in the street
Willie and the Poor Boys are playin'
Bring a nickel tap your feet
Down on the corner
Out in the street
Willie and the Poor Boys are playin'
Bring a nickel tap your feet
You don't need a penny just to hang around
But if you got a nickel won't ya lay your money down
Over on the corner there's a happy noise
People come from all around to watch the magic boy
Down on the corner
Out in the street
Willie and the Poor Boys are playin'
Bring a nickel tap your feet
[fade out
song performed by by Goo Goo Dolls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Down On The Corner
Early on the evening, just about suppertime
Over by the courthouse, theyre startin to unwind
Poor kids on the corner tryin to bring you up
Willie picks a tune out and he knows they gonna start
Down on the corner
Out in the street
Willie and the poor boys are playin
Bring a nickel tap your feet
Johnny hits the washboard, people just gotta smile
Robby thumbs a gut-bass and solos for a while
Poor boy brings the rhythm on his kalamazoo
And willie goes into a dance doubles on kazoo, hey!
Down on the corner
Out in the street
Willie and the poor boys are playin
Bring a nickel tap your feet
Down on the corner
Out in the street
Willie and the poor boys are playin
Bring a nickel tap your feet
Down on the corner
Out in the street
Willie and the poor boys are playin
Bring a nickel tap your feet
You dont need a penny just to hang around
But if you got a nickel wont ya lay your money down
Over on the corner theres a happy noise
People come from all around to watch the magic boy
Down on the corner
Out in the street
Willie and the poor boys are playin
Bring a nickel tap your feet
(repeat and fade)
song performed by by Goo Goo Dolls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Willie & Laura Mae Jones
(tony joe white)
Willie & laura mae jones
Were our neighbours a long time back
They lived right down the road from us
In a shack just like our shack
The people worked the land together
And we learned to count on each other
When you live off the land
You dont have the time to think about another mans colour
The cotton was high and the corn was growing fine
But that was another place and another time
Sit out on the front porch
In the evening when the sun went down
Willie would play and the kids would sing
And everybody would mess around
Daddyd bring out his guitar
And play on through the night
Every now and then ol willie would grin and say
Hey, you play all right
Made me feel so good
I remember the best times of all
When saturday came around
We all would stop by willies house and say
Do yall need anything from town?
Hed say no, but why dont yall stop on the way back through?
And Ill get laura mae, yeah, to cook up some barbecue
And you know thats good
The cotton was high and the corn was growing fine, yes it was
But that was another place and another time
Oh, the years rolled past the land
And took back what theyd given
We all knew we had to move
If we were gonna make a living
So we all moved off
And went about our separate ways
It sure was hard to say goodbye
To willie and laura mae (jones), oh yeah
The cotton was high and the corn was growing fine, yes it was
But that was another place and another time
I remember so well
The cotton looked so fine
But that was another place and another time
And it felt so good, yes it did
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Clever Little Willie Wee
Clever little Willie wee,
Bright-eyed, blue-eyed little fellow;
Merry little Margery
With her hair all yellow.
Little Willie in his heart
Is a sailor on the sea,
And he often cons a chart
With sister Margery.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bob Brockodilli from Philly
Bob Brockodilli who is
from Philly
stays at Willie's.
Willie's dog Javeria
is from Chile,
she's fat and very silly.
The first time today Bob
came and stayed,
he played with Daisy dog too.
She begged for his food,
with her eyes so blue.
Then we crossed the street
to listen to the beat
of a Philly band,
recorded at the Tin Angel,
which I understand
is the place to be seen,
so I bought their CD.
They play reggae, blues
and acoustic rock,
was there till 10 o'clock.
It was a fun time,
I enjoyed it a lot.
Thanks Willie and Bob
Brockodilli,
It was a fun time
seeing band from Philly.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on March 21,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kissing Willie
Breaking hearts in a market town. she eats filet of sole
And washes it down with sparkling wine.
Nice girl, but a bad girls better. qualifies in both ways
To my mind. but now shes kissing willie.
She shows a leg --- shows it damn well. knows how to drive a man
Right back to being a child.
Well, shes a --- nice girl, but her bad girls better. I can read
It in her cheating eyes and know that in a while --- well,
Shell be kissing willie. (my best friend, willie.)
Willie stands and willie falls. willie bangs his head
Behind grey factory walls.
Shes a --- nice girl, but her bad girls better. me and willie
Just cant help come, when she calls.
Now shes kissing willie. (my best friend, willie.)
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Loved A Man
(elton john/ george martin - lyrics based on the works of dylan thomas )
Producers for bonnie: george martin
Recorded in 1988 for george martin's production of dylan thomas's play 'under milk wood'. bonnie guested with a host of other welsh stars, including anthony hopkins and tom jones. lyrics taken from careful listening.
I loved a man who's name was tom
He's strong as a bear and two yards long
I loved a man who's name was dick
He was big as a barrel and three feet thick
And i loved a man who's name was harry
Six feet tall and sweet as a cherry
But the one i love best, awake or asleep
Was little willie wee, and he's six feet deep
Oh tom, dick and harry were three fine men
And i'll never have such loving again
Little willie wee who took me on his knee
Little willie weasel was the man for me
Now men from every parish 'round
Run after me and roll me on the ground
But whenever i love another man back
Johnny from the hill, or sailing jack
I always think as they do what they please
Of tom, dick and harry who are tall as trees
But most i think when i'm by their side
Of little willie wee who downed and died
Oh tom, dick and harry were three fine men
And i'll never have such loving again
Little willie wee who took me on his knee
Little willie weasel was the man for me
Little willie weasel was the man for me
(the following is a reprise featured later)
Now when farmers boys on the first fair day
Come down from the hills to drink and be gay
Before the sun sinks, i lie there in their arms
For they're good bad boys from the lonely farms
And i always think as we tumble into bed
Of little willie wee, who's dead, dead, dead
song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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By The Alma River
WILLIE, fold your little hands;
Let it drop, that 'soldier' toy:
Look where father's picture stands,--
Father, who here kissed his boy
Not two months since,--father kind,
Who this night may--Never mind
Mother's sob, my Willie dear,
Call aloud that He may hear
Who is God of battles, say,
'O, keep father safe this day
By the Alma river.'
Ask no more, child. Never heed
Either Russ, or Frank, or Turk,
Right of nations or of creed,
Chance-poised victory's bloody work:
Any flag i' the wind may roll
On thy heights, Sebastopol;
Willie, all to you and me
Is that spot, where'er it be,
Where he stands--no other word!
Stands--God sure the child's prayer heard--
By the Alma river.
Willie, listen to the bells
Ringing through the town to-day.
That's for victory. Ah, no knells
For the many swept away,--
Hundreds--thousands! Let us weep,
We who need not,--just to keep
Reason steady in my brain
Till the morning comes again,
Till the third dread morning tell
Who they were that fought and fell
By the Alma river.
Come, we'll lay us down, my child,
Poor the bed is, poor and hard;
Yet thy father, far exiled,
Sleeps upon the open sward,
Dreaming of us two at home:
Or beneath the starry dome
Digs out trenches in the dark,
Where he buries--Willie, mark--
Where he buries those who died
Fighting bravely at his side
By the Alma river.
Willie, Willie, go to sleep,
God will keep us, O my boy;
He will make the dull hours creep
Faster, and send news of joy,
When I need not shrink to meet
Those dread placards in the street,
Which for weeks will ghastly stare
In some eyes--Child, sy thy prayer
Once again; a different one:
Say, 'O God, Thy will be done
By the Alma river.'
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blind Willie Mctell
Seen the arrow on the doorpost
Saying, this land is condemned
All the way from new orleans
To jerusalem.
I traveled through east texas
Where many martyrs fell
And I know no one can sing the blues
Like blind willie mctell
Well, I heard the hoot owl singing
As they were taking down the tents
The stars above the barren trees
Were his only audience
Them charcoal gypsy maidens
Can strut their feathers well
But nobody can sing the blues
Like blind willie mctell
See them big plantations burning
Hear the cracking of the whips
Smell that sweet magnolia blooming
(and) see the ghosts of slavery ships
I can hear them tribes a-moaning
(I can) hear the undertakers bell
(yeah), nobody can sing the blues
Like blind willie mctell
Theres a woman by the river
With some fine young handsome man
Hes dressed up like a squire
Bootlegged whiskey in his hand
Theres a chain gang on the highway
I can hear them rebels yell
And I know no one can sing the blues
Like blind willie mctell
Well, God is in heaven
And we all want whats his
But power and greed and corruptible seed
Seem to be all that there is
Im gazing out the window
Of the st. james hotel
And I know no one can sing the blues
Like blind willie mctell
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Willie Wastle
Willie Wastle dwalt on Tweed,
The spot they ca'd it Linkumdoddie.
Willie was a wabster guid
Could stown a clue wi onie body.
He had a wife was dour and din,
O, Tinkler Maidgie was her mither!
Sic a wife as Willie had,
I wad na gie a button for her.
She has an e'e (she has but ane),
The cat has twa the very colour,
Five rusty teeth, forbye a stump,
A clapper-toungue wad deave a miller;
A whiskin beard about her mou,
Her nose and chin they threaten ither:
Sic a wife as Willie had,
I wad na gie a button for her.
She's bow-hough'd, she's hem-shin'd,
Ae limpin leg a hand-breed shorter;
She's twisted right, she's twisted left,
To balance fair in ilka quarter;
She has a hump upon her breast,
The twin o that upon her shouther:
Sic a wife as Willie had,
I wad na gie a button for her.
Auld baudrans by the ingle sits,
An wi her loof her face a-washin;
But Willie's wife is nae sae trig,
She dights her frunzie wi a hushion;
Her walie nieves like midden-creels,
Her face wad fyle the Logan Water:
Sic a wife as Willie had,
I wad na gie a button for her.
poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Serenade
When the voice of thy lute at the eve
Charmeth the ear,
In the hour of enchantment believe
What I murmur near.
That the tune can the Age of Gold
With its magic restore.
Play on, play on, my fair one,
Play on for evermore.
When thy laugh like the song of the dawn
Riseth so gay
That the shadows of Night are withdrawn
And melt away,
I remember my years of care
And misgiving no more.
Laugh on, laugh on, my fair one,
Laugh on for evermore.
When thy sleep like the moonlight above
Lulling the sea,
Doth enwind thee in visions of love,
Perchance, of me!
I can watch so in dream that enthralled me,
Never before!
Sleep on, sleep on, my fair one!
Sleep on for evermore.
poem by Victor Hugo from Marie Tudor (1833), translated by Henry F. Chorley
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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The Island Of Endless Play
Said Willie to Tom 'Let us hie away
To the wonderful Island of Endless Play.
It lies off the border of 'No School Land'
And abounds with pleasures, I understand.
There boys go swimming whenever they please
In a lovely river right under the trees.
And marbles are free, no one has to buy;
And kites of all sizes are ready to fly.
We sail down the Isthmus of Idle Delight,
We sail and we sail for a day and a night.
And then if favored by billows and breeze
We land in the harbor of Do-as-you-please.
And their lies the Island of Endless Play
With no one to say to us Must or Nay.
Books are not known in that land so fair,
Teachers are stoned if they set foot there.
Hurrah for the Island so glad and free,
That is the country for you and me.'
So away went Willie and Tom together
On a pleasure boat, in the lazy weather,
And they sailed in the teeth of a friendly breeze
Right into the harbor of 'Do-as-you-please!'
Where boats and tackle and marbles and kites
Were waiting them there in this Land of Delights.
They dwelt on the Island of Endless Play
For five long years; then one sad day
A strange dark ship sailed up to the strand,
And 'Ho! for the voyage to Stupid Land.'
The Captain cried with a terrible noise
As he seized the frightened and struggling boys,
And threw them into the dark Ship's hold,
And off and away sailed the Captain bold.
They vainly begged him to let them out,
He answered only with scoff and shout.
'Boys that don't study or work,' said he,
'Must sail one day down the Ignorant Sea
To Stupid Land by the No-Book strait,
With Captain Time on the Pitiless Fate.'
Then he let out the sails and away went the three,
Over the waters of Ignorant Sea.
Out and away to Stupid Land,
And they live there yet, I understand.
And there's where every one goes, they say,
Who seeks the Island of Endless Play.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Robber & The Roadie
When willie met ronnie he was runnin up a track
He was bent down, burned out, carryin a sack
Come on boy, you got to stop and help me some
And keep this money hidden when the police come
Ronnie was shiverin and makin funny sounds
He was lookin like a fox
That was runnin from the hounds
Sure little buddy, I can lighten up your load
You half it up, Ill hit it up, Ill take it down the road
Never had a better combination been planned
cos willie was a roadie with a rock n? roll band
They were heads back, celebratin, drinkin moonshine
Heads down, here we go across another state line
Tanked up and bullet proof
They couldnt give a monkeys
Damn if he didnt hide the money in a drum case
Pack em up, hit em up, do another show
The robber and the roadie got a long way to go
Willie and ronnie
Anytime they wanted they would pull another job
Anywhere they found a place
And it was fat enough to rob
If ronnie saw the police he would make a little sign
Then willie stuck the money in the bands back line
In the main racks, bass stacks
Anywhere he thought it could
Be hidden out of sight
Until the finished out in hollywood
Split it down the middle
When they took it out the sound
The robber and the roadie got enough to go around
Willie and ronnie
The robber and the roadie
Forty seven days and they had only one to go
When the telegram arived
To say the band wouldnt show
The crowd was getting nasty and it turned into a rage
The bottles and the bodies started coverin the stage
Then the cops came running in
And breaking up the riotin
When they saw the money falling
Out the back of everything
Hey little buddy think its time to run and duck
The robber and the roadie could be runnin out of luck
Willie and ronnie had to skip it out of town
They were sittin by the highway like jackson browne
They were stickin out their thumbs
In the middle of the night
When they saw the car comin with the spinnin red light
Wide eyed, tongue tied feelin pretty stranded
No use in runnin they were caught red handed
Pull em in, lock em up, put em in a row
The robber and the roadie got nowhere to go
Willie and ronnie
The robber and the roadie
We got state police and the fbi
Willie and ronnie
You get a big reward
If you can make these boys mamas cry
The robber and the roadie
We got the national guard and the bear in the sky
Willie and ronnie
You get a big reward if you can make these mothers cry
The robber and the roadie
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Can't Find a Doll with a Chinese Face!
I've watched your children, playing in the sand,
Pretty little girls with a yellow hair-band,
Cheeky little boys with their snub-nosed faces,
Kicking and a-tripping over dragging shoe-laces,
Little brown eyes, and stubby little hands,
They laugh and delight, these children of the Han.
So why do their Ma ma's buy them little dolls
With blond hair and blue eyes from western malls?
Kan kan woman if you can can see,
Look in the mirror at your rare beauty;
Who's got the hair that would steal men's glances,
Coal black and straight, that your face enhances,
High cheek-bones, and your almond eyes
Now look at your child, be proud, be wise,
Why make them think they're less than they are
Than a blond haired bimbo in a western bar?
Sons of the dragon, and little princesses,
Need to be loved, to be held - caresses!
They should be playing with a doll just like them
Not something borrowed from a Disney production,
Toss all the Barbies and the blue-eyed babies,
Revel in the glow of your eastern features,
I'm just a westerner, wandering the place,
But I can't find a doll with a Chinese face!
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rambling, Gambling Willie
Come around you rovin gamblers and a story I will tell
About the greatest gambler, you all should know him well.
His name was will o conley and he gambled all his life,
He had twenty-seven children, yet he never had a wife.
And its ride, willie, ride,
Roll, willie, roll,
Wherever you are a-gamblin now, nobody really knows.
He gambled in the white house and in the railroad yards,
Wherever there was people, there was willie and his cards.
He had a reputation as the gamblinest man around,
Wives would keep their husbands home when willie came to town.
And its ride, willie, ride,
Roll, willie, roll,
Wherever you are a-gamblin now, nobody really knows.
Sailin down the mississippi to a town called new orleans,
Theyre still talkin about their card game on that jackson river queen.
Ive come to win some money, gamblin willie says,
When the game finally ended up, the whole damn boat was his.
And its ride, willie, ride,
Roll, willie, roll,
Wherever you are a-gamblin now, nobody really knows.
Up in the rocky mountains in a town called cripple creek,
There was an all-night poker game, lasted about a week.
Nine hundred miners had laid their money down,
When willie finally left the room, he owned the whole damn town.
And its ride, willie, ride,
Roll, willie, roll,
Wherever you are a-gamblin now, nobody really knows.
But willie had a heart of gold and this I know is true,
He supported all his children, and all their mothers too.
He wore no rings or fancy things, like other gamblers wore,
He spread his money far and wide, to help the sick and the poor.
And its ride, willie, ride,
Roll, willie, roll,
Wherever you are a-gamblin now, nobody really knows.
When you played your cards with willie, you never really knew
Whether he was bluffin or whether he was true.
He won a fortune from a man who folded in his chair.
The man, he left a diamond flush, willie didnt even have a pair.
And its ride, willie, ride,
Roll, willie, roll,
Wherever you are a-gamblin now, nobody really knows.
It was late one evenin during a poker game,
A man lost all his money, he said willie was to blame.
He shot poor willie through the head, which was a tragic fate,
When willies cards fell on the floor, they were aces backed with eights.
And its ride, willie, ride,
Roll, willie, roll,
Wherever you are a-gamblin now, nobody really knows.
So all you rovin gamblers, wherever you might be,
The moral of this story is very plain to see.
Make your money while you can, before you have to stop,
For when you pull that dead mans hand, your gamblin days are up.
And its ride, willie, ride,
Roll, willie, roll,
Wherever you are a-gamblin now, nobody really knows.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Young America
Wee Willie sat a-thinking,
And he shook his curly head.
Around him on the nursery floor
His treasures lay outspread.
Firecrackers and torpedoes,
Trumpet and flag and drum,
Rockets and pinwheels and paper caps,
For Fourth of July had come.
'But it makes me sort o' sorry,'
Wee Willie said with a sigh,
'To think of those poor little English boys
Without any Fourth of July.'
poem by Carolyn Wells
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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After Willie Had Gone
Dotty lies in Willie's bed,
he's gone to fetch Sammy
his poet friend and will return
in a few days. She sniffs
her brother's pillow, smells
his hair oil and aftershave.
She snuggles into the bed
for warmth, pulling his duvet
tight around her, imagining
it's him holding her, his arms
about her. She has a headache,
a coming near the edge, migraine.
Feels sick, light leaking through
the curtains makes it worse.
She puts her head under the
duvet, shuts out the bright light.
She smells him better here, his
love of scent, his personal choice.
She hears birdsong from the garden,
a blue tit, great tit, unsure which.
Willie'd know. She squeezes her
eyes tight keep out whatever light
might intrude. Willie's left her some
of his poems to type up and file away.
Later in the day, she muses, once
the sickness and migraine's gone.
He had a good day yesterday with
the poems, she recalls, him reciting
over and over as they walked, her
scribbling down, pencil and pad,
her finger and thumb holding the
pencil tight until they felt numb.
After they returned home and sat
by the fire and he spoke them out
one by one. She loved the one about
winter dawn. She turns over, faces
the wall, her head buried into Willie's
warm indentation. In the darkness
she recites the poems one by one,
the words pouring from her lips,
following each other like children
out to play. She shuts out the dawn
chorus of birds that celebrate the day.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Being in Boxes
Hard walled and
White
ON GUARD against
errant beams of light,
my cubicle is
half my home
but at night.
Memo to Self,
in Memorandum
a small death everyday
to be slave in return for pay
work, ALL work
and no play.
and all the dull boys
Jacks on their hills
work and work to pay the bills
to buy all the right toys
hope to play with the big boys.
and I sit quiet
in a box
I make no noise.
'shhhhhhhhhh'
my machines
hum and whisper
they say 'don't worry sister...
you won't go far'.
poem by Virginie Guillemette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'll Never Smoke Weed With Willie Again
I always heard that his herb was top shelf
I just couldn't wait to find out for myself
Don't knock it till you tried it, well I tried it my friend
I'll never smoke weed with Willie again
I learned a hard lesson in a small Texas town
He fired up a fat boy and he passed him around
The last words I spoke before they tucked me in
I'll never smoke weed with Willie again
I'll never smoke weed with Willie again
My party's all over before it began
You can pour me some old whiskey river my friend
But I'll never smoke weed with Willie again
I hopped on his old bus, the Honeysuckle Rose
The party was Vegas, it was after the show
Alone in the front lounge, just me and him
With one parting puff grime creeper set in
I'll never smoke weed with Willie again
My party's all over before it began
You can pour me some old whiskey river my friend
But I'll never smoke weed with Willie again
Now we're passing the guitar, telling good jokes
I know ones a coming cause I'm smelling smoke
No I do not partake, I just let it pass by
With a smile on my face and a great contact high
I'll never smoke weed with Willie again
My party's all over before it began
You can pour me some old whiskey river my friend
But I'll never smoke weed with Willie again
In the fetal position with drool on my chin
I messed up and smoked weed with Willie again
song performed by by Toby Keith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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