The Idiot Boy
'Tis eight o'clock,--a clear March night,
The moon is up,--the sky is blue,
The owlet, in the moonlight air,
Shouts from nobody knows where;
He lengthens out his lonely shout,
Halloo! halloo! a long halloo!
--Why bustle thus about your door,
What means this bustle, Betty Foy?
Why are you in this mighty fret?
And why on horseback have you set
Him whom you love, your Idiot Boy?
Scarcely a soul is out of bed;
Good Betty, put him down again;
His lips with joy they burr at you;
But, Betty! what has he to do
With stirrup, saddle, or with rein?
But Betty's bent on her intent;
For her good neighbour, Susan Gale,
Old Susan, she who dwells alone,
Is sick, and makes a piteous moan
As if her very life would fail.
There's not a house within a mile,
No hand to help them in distress;
Old Susan lies a-bed in pain,
And sorely puzzled are the twain,
For what she ails they cannot guess.
And Betty's husband's at the wood,
Where by the week he doth abide,
A woodman in the distant vale;
There's none to help poor Susan Gale;
What must be done? what will betide?
And Betty from the lane has fetched
Her Pony, that is mild and good;
Whether he be in joy or pain,
Feeding at will along the lane,
Or bringing faggots from the wood.
And he is all in travelling trim,--
And, by the moonlight, Betty Foy
Has on the well-girt saddle set
(The like was never heard of yet)
Him whom she loves, her Idiot Boy.
And he must post without delay
Across the bridge and through the dale,
And by the church, and o'er the down,
To bring a Doctor from the town,
Or she will die, old Susan Gale.
There is no need of boot or spur,
There is no need of whip or wand;
For Johnny has his holly-bough,
And with a 'hurly-burly' now
He shakes the green bough in his hand.
And Betty o'er and o'er has told
The Boy, who is her best delight,
Both what to follow, what to shun,
What do, and what to leave undone,
How turn to left, and how to right.
And Betty's most especial charge,
Was, 'Johnny! Johnny! mind that you
Come home again, nor stop at all,--
Come home again, whate'er befall,
My Johnny, do, I pray you do.'
To this did Johnny answer make,
Both with his head and with his hand,
And proudly shook the bridle too;
And then! his words were not a few,
Which Betty well could understand.
And now that Johnny is just going,
Though Betty's in a mighty flurry,
She gently pats the Pony's side,
On which her Idiot Boy must ride,
And seems no longer in a hurry.
But when the Pony moved his legs,
Oh! then for the poor Idiot Boy!
For joy he cannot hold the bridle,
For joy his head and heels are idle,
He's idle all for very joy.
And while the Pony moves his legs,
In Johnny's left hand you may see
The green bough motionless and dead:
The Moon that shines above his head
Is not more still and mute than he.
His heart it was so full of glee,
That till full fifty yards were gone,
He quite forgot his holly whip,
And all his skill in horsemanship:
Oh! happy, happy, happy John.
And while the Mother, at the door,
Stands fixed, her face with joy o'erflows,
Proud of herself, and proud of him,
She sees him in his travelling trim,
How quietly her Johnny goes.
The silence of her Idiot Boy,
What hopes it sends to Betty's heart!
He's at the guide-post--he turns right;
She watches till he's out of sight,
And Betty will not then depart.
Burr, burr--now Johnny's lips they burr,
As loud as any mill, or near it;
Meek as a lamb the Pony moves,
And Johnny makes the noise he loves, 0
And Betty listens, glad to hear it.
Away she hies to Susan Gale:
Her Messenger's in merry tune;
The owlets hoot, the owlets curr,
And Johnny's lips they burr, burr, burr,
As on he goes beneath the moon.
His steed and he right well agree;
For of this Pony there's a rumour,
That, should he lose his eyes and ears,
And should he live a thousand years,
He never will be out of humour.
But then he is a horse that thinks!
And when he thinks, his pace is slack;
Now, though he knows poor Johnny well,
Yet, for his life, he cannot tell
What he has got upon his back.
So through the moonlight lanes they go,
And far into the moonlight dale,
And by the church, and o'er the down,
To bring a Doctor from the town,
To comfort poor old Susan Gale.
And Betty, now at Susan's side,
Is in the middle of her story,
What speedy help her Boy will bring,
With many a most diverting thing,
Of Johnny's wit, and Johnny's glory.
And Betty, still at Susan's side,
By this time is not quite so flurried:
Demure with porringer and plate
She sits, as if in Susan's fate
Her life and soul were buried.
But Betty, poor good woman! she,
You plainly in her face may read it,
Could lend out of that moment's store
Five years of happiness or more
To any that might need it.
But yet I guess that now and then
With Betty all was not so well;
And to the road she turns her ears,
And thence full many a sound she hears,
Which she to Susan will not tell.
Poor Susan moans, poor Susan groans;
'As sure as there's a moon in heaven,'
Cries Betty, 'he'll be back again;
They'll both be here--'tis almost ten--
Both will be here before eleven.'
Poor Susan moans, poor Susan groans;
The clock gives warning for eleven;
'Tis on the stroke--'He must be near,'
Quoth Betty, 'and will soon be here,
As sure as there's a moon in heaven.'
The clock is on the stroke of twelve,
And Johnny is not yet in sight:
--The Moon's in heaven, as Betty sees,
But Betty is not quite at ease;
And Susan has a dreadful night.
And Betty, half an hour ago,
On Johnny vile reflections cast:
'A little idle sauntering Thing!'
With other names, an endless string;
But now that time is gone and past.
And Betty's drooping at the heart,
That happy time all past and gone,
'How can it be he is so late?
The Doctor, he has made him wait;
Susan! they'll both be here anon.'
And Susan's growing worse and worse,
And Betty's in a sad 'quandary';
And then there's nobody to say
If she must go, or she must stay!
--She's in a sad 'quandary'.
The clock is on the stroke of one;
But neither Doctor nor his Guide
Appears along the moonlight road;
There's neither horse nor man abroad,
And Betty's still at Susan's side.
And Susan now begins to fear
Of sad mischances not a few,
That Johnny may perhaps be drowned;
Or lost, perhaps, and never found;
Which they must both for ever rue.
She prefaced half a hint of this
With, 'God forbid it should be true!'
At the first word that Susan said
Cried Betty, rising from the bed,
'Susan, I'd gladly stay with you.
'I must be gone, I must away:
Consider, Johnny's but half-wise;
Susan, we must take care of him,
If he is hurt in life or limb'--
'Oh God forbid!' poor Susan cries.
'What can I do?' says Betty, going,
'What can I do to ease your pain?
Good Susan tell me, and I'll stay;
I fear you're in a dreadful way,
But I shall soon be back again.'
'Nay, Betty, go! good Betty, go!
There's nothing that can ease my pain,'
Then off she hies, but with a prayer
That God poor Susan's life would spare, 0
Till she comes back again.
So, through the moonlight lane she goes,
And far into the moonlight dale;
And how she ran, and how she walked,
And all that to herself she talked,
Would surely be a tedious tale.
In high and low, above, below,
In great and small, in round and square,
In tree and tower was Johnny seen,
In bush and brake, in black and green;
'Twas Johnny, Johnny, every where.
And while she crossed the bridge, there came
A thought with which her heart is sore--
Johnny perhaps his horse forsook,
To hunt the moon within the brook,
And never will be heard of more.
Now is she high upon the down,
Alone amid a prospect wide;
There's neither Johnny nor his Horse
Among the fern or in the gorse;
There's neither Doctor nor his Guide.
'O saints! what is become of him?
Perhaps he's climbed into an oak,
Where he will stay till he is dead;
Or, sadly he has been misled,
And joined the wandering gipsy-folk.
'Or him that wicked Pony's carried
To the dark cave, the goblin's hall;
Or in the castle he's pursuing
Among the ghosts his own undoing;
Or playing with the waterfall.'
At poor old Susan then she railed,
While to the town she posts away;
'If Susan had not been so ill,
Alas! I should have had him still,
My Johnny, till my dying day.'
Poor Betty, in this sad distemper,
The Doctor's self could hardly spare:
Unworthy things she talked, and wild;
Even he, of cattle the most mild,
The Pony had his share.
But now she's fairly in the town,
And to the Doctor's door she hies;
'Tis silence all on every side;
The town so long, the town so wide,
Is silent as the skies.
And now she's at the Doctor's door,
She lifts the knocker, rap, rap, rap;
The Doctor at the casement shows
His glimmering eyes that peep and doze!
And one hand rubs his old night-cap.
'O Doctor! Doctor! where's my Johnny?'
'I'm here, what is't you want with me?'
'O Sir! you know I'm Betty Foy,
And I have lost my poor dear Boy,
You know him--him you often see;
'He's not so wise as some folks be:'
'The devil take his wisdom!' said
The Doctor, looking somewhat grim,
'What, Woman! should I know of him?'
And, grumbling, he went back to bed!
'O woe is me! O woe is me!
Here will I die, here will I die;
I thought to find my lost one here,
But he is neither far nor near,
Oh! what a wretched Mother I!'
She stops, she stands, she looks about;
Which way to turn she cannot tell.
Poor Betty! it would ease her pain
If she had heart to knock again;
--The clock strikes three--a dismal knell!
Then up along the town she hies,
No wonder if her senses fail;
This piteous news so much it shocked her,
She quite forgot to send the Doctor,
To comfort poor old Susan Gale.
And now she's high upon the down,
And she can see a mile of road:
'O cruel! I'm almost threescore;
Such night as this was ne'er before,
There's not a single soul abroad.'
She listens, but she cannot hear
The foot of horse, the voice of man;
The streams with softest sound are flowing,
The grass you almost hear it growing,
You hear it now, if e'er you can.
The owlets through the long blue night
Are shouting to each other still:
Fond lovers! yet not quite hob nob,
They lengthen out the tremulous sob,
That echoes far from hill to hill.
Poor Betty now has lost all hope,
Her thoughts are bent on deadly sin,
A green-grown pond she just has past,
And from the brink she hurries fast,
Lest she should drown herself therein.
And now she sits her down and weeps;
Such tears she never shed before;
'Oh dear, dear Pony! my sweet joy!
Oh carry back my Idiot Boy! 0
And we will ne'er o'erload thee more.'
A thought is come into her head:
The Pony he is mild and good,
And we have always used him well;
Perhaps he's gone along the dell,
And carried Johnny to the wood.
Then up she springs as if on wings;
She thinks no more of deadly sin;
If Betty fifty ponds should see,
The last of all her thoughts would be
To drown herself therein.
O Reader! now that I might tell
What Johnny and his Horse are doing
What they've been doing all this time,
Oh could I put it into rhyme,
A most delightful tale pursuing!
Perhaps, and no unlikely thought!
He with his Pony now doth roam
The cliffs and peaks so high that are,
To lay his hands upon a star,
And in his pocket bring it home.
Perhaps he's turned himself about,
His face unto his horse's tail,
And, still and mute, in wonder lost,
All silent as a horseman-ghost,
He travels slowly down the vale.
And now, perhaps, is hunting sheep,
A fierce and dreadful hunter he;
Yon valley, now so trim and green,
In five months' time, should he be seen,
A desert wilderness will be!
Perhaps, with head and heels on fire,
And like the very soul of evil,
He's galloping away, away,
And so will gallop on for aye,
The bane of all that dread the devil!
I to the Muses have been bound
These fourteen years, by strong indentures:
O gentle Muses! let me tell
But half of what to him befell;
He surely met with strange adventures.
O gentle Muses! is this kind?
Why will ye thus my suit repel?
Why of your further aid bereave me?
And can ye thus unfriended leave me
Ye Muses! whom I love so well?
Who's yon, that, near the waterfall,
Which thunders down with headlong force,
Beneath the moon, yet shining fair,
As careless as if nothing were,
Sits upright on a feeding horse?
Unto his horse--there feeding free,
He seems, I think, the rein to give;
Of moon or stars he takes no heed;
Of such we in romances read:
--'Tis Johnny! Johnny! as I live.
And that's the very Pony, too!
Where is she, where is Betty Foy?
She hardly can sustain her fears;
The roaring waterfall she hears,
And cannot find her Idiot Boy.
Your Pony's worth his weight in gold:
Then calm your terrors, Betty Foy!
She's coming from among the trees,
And now all full in view she sees
Him whom she loves, her Idiot Boy.
And Betty sees the Pony too:
Why stand you thus, good Betty Foy?
It is no goblin, 'tis no ghost,
'Tis he whom you so long have lost,
He whom you love, your Idiot Boy.
She looks again--her arms are up--
She screams--she cannot move for joy;
She darts, as with a torrent's force,
She almost has o'erturned the Horse,
And fast she holds her Idiot Boy.
And Johnny burrs, and laughs aloud;
Whether in cunning or in joy
I cannot tell; but while he laughs,
Betty a drunken pleasure quaffs
To hear again her Idiot Boy.
And now she's at the Pony's tail,
And now is at the Pony's head,--
On that side now, and now on this;
And, almost stifled with her bliss,
A few sad tears does Betty shed.
She kisses o'er and o'er again
Him whom she loves, her Idiot Boy;
She's happy here, is happy there,
She is uneasy every where;
Her limbs are all alive with joy.
She pats the Pony, where or when
She knows not, happy Betty Foy!
The little Pony glad may be,
But he is milder far than she,
You hardly can perceive his joy.
'Oh! Johnny, never mind the Doctor;
You've done your best, and that is all:'
She took the reins, when this was said,
And gently turned the Pony's head 0
From the loud waterfall.
By this the stars were almost gone,
The moon was setting on the hill,
So pale you scarcely looked at her:
The little birds began to stir,
Though yet their tongues were still.
The Pony, Betty, and her Boy,
Wind slowly through the woody dale;
And who is she, betimes abroad,
That hobbles up the steep rough road?
Who is it, but old Susan Gale?
Long time lay Susan lost in thought;
And many dreadful fears beset her,
Both for her Messenger and Nurse;
And, as her mind grew worse and worse,
Her body--it grew better.
She turned, she tossed herself in bed,
On all sides doubts and terrors met her;
Point after point did she discuss;
And, while her mind was fighting thus,
Her body still grew better.
'Alas! what is become of them?
These fears can never be endured;
I'll to the wood.'--The word scarce said,
Did Susan rise up from her bed,
As if by magic cured.
Away she goes up hill and down,
And to the wood at length is come;
She spies her Friends, she shouts a greeting;
Oh me! it is a merry meeting
As ever was in Christendom.
The owls have hardly sung their last,
While our four travellers homeward wend;
The owls have hooted all night long,
And with the owls began my song,
And with the owls must end.
For while they all were travelling home,
Cried Betty, 'Tell us, Johnny, do,
Where all this long night you have been,
What you have heard, what you have seen:
And, Johnny, mind you tell us true.'
Now Johnny all night long had heard
The owls in tuneful concert strive;
No doubt too he the moon had seen;
For in the moonlight he had been
From eight o'clock till five.
And thus, to Betty's question, he
Made answer, like a traveller bold,
(His very words I give to you,)
'The cocks did crow to-whoo, to-whoo,
And the sun did shine so cold!'
--Thus answered Johnny in his glory,
And that was all his travel's story,
poem by William Wordsworth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Black Betty
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
She's from birmingham (bam-ba-lam)
Way down in alabam' (bam-ba-lam)
Well, she's shakin' that thing (bam-ba-lam)
Boy, she makes me sing (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty bam-ba-lam
She really gets me high (bam-ba-lam)
You know that's no lie (bam-ba-lam)
She's so rock steady (bam-ba-lam)
And she's always ready (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
oh, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
oh, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
Black betty had a child (bam-ba-lam)
and she swears it's mine (bam-ba-lam)
she must be outta mind (bam-ba-lam)
she must think im blind (bam-ba-lam)
oh, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
oh, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
oh, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
oh, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
monday she got me arrested.
on tuesday up in chain.
on wednesday my trial was tested.
thursday she posted my bail.
friday we went walking.
saturday i out my door.
on sunday we was talking,
back on monday she pawned all my cloths.
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
She's from birmingham (bam-ba-lam)
Way down in alabam' (bam-ba-lam)
Well, she's shakin' that thing (bam-ba-lam)
Boy, she makes me sing (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty )bam-ba-lam)
She really gets me high (bam-ba-lam)
You know that's no lie (bam-ba-lam)
She's so rock steady (bam-ba-lam)
And she's always ready (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
Whoa, black betty (bam-ba-lam)
song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Loui Is Adorable
Little Loui who is so sweet,
sits real relaxed in his new car seat.
He rides next to Betty all over town,
he barks to protect her,
his bark makes a cute sound.
Little Loui makes Betty smile as she looks
toward him sitting on the ground,
for Little Loui follows Betty all around.
A couple of times he slipped away,
but Betty got him back all O.K.
Little Loui loves to go on very long walks,
with Betty he listens to her while she talks.
Betty dresses Little Loui up in outfits cute as can be,
Little Loui looks smashing and adorable to a T.
Little Loui will play with Madison this year,
Loui is friends with Madison who is his friend so dear.
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Loui Is Adorable
Little Loui who is so sweet,
sits real relaxed in his new car seat.
He rides next to Betty all over town,
he barks to protect her,
his bark makes a cute sound.
Little Loui makes Betty smile as she looks
toward him sitting on the ground,
for Little Loui follows Betty all around.
A couple of times he slipped away,
but Betty got him back all O.K.
Little Loui loves to go on very long walks,
with Betty he listens to her while she talks.
Betty dresses Little Loui up in outfits cute as can be,
Little Loui looks smashing and dressed to the T.
Little Loui will play with Madison this year,
Little Loui and Madison are friends so dear.
Written By Suzae Chevalier on December 17,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Betty Lou's Gettin' Out Tonight
Have you heard the news
It's all over town
If you ain't heard it boys
You better sit down
I got the story here
It's hot off the press
Brace yourself now
And take a deep breath
Grob a hold of something
Hold on tight
Betty Lou's gettin' out tonight
First heard the rumor down on 12th and Main
The poor druggist he was going insane
His stuff is selling out like never before
He finally had to up and close the store
All the boys were getting ready to fight
Betty Lou's gettin' out tonight
Betty Lou's gettin' out tonight
Betty Lou's gettin' out tonight
She was bad
Her momma got mad
But now her momma said it's all right
All the boys are getting ready and right
Betty Lou's gettin'out tonight
Betty Lou
Betty Lou
It's all true
It's really true
What do you think about that boys
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Betty My Friend
Betty with her deep brown eyes,
is a sweetheart that can sympathize.
She is a believer in my creativity,
she gives me feedback with dignity
Betty encourages me to protect myself,
she knows I am a creator like no one else.
Betty is a great parent and a kind soul,
she takes her son Loui wherever she goes.
She gives him treats for he is a good boy,
burgers from McDonalds, but no plastic toy.
Betty even made sure I was feed,
she bought a cheeseburger before she went to bed.
Betty really loves my artwork and my books,
she is amazed and knows what they are worth.
Thank you Betty for believing in me,
I bless you and your son Little Loui.
Written By Suzae Chevalier on February 11,2012
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Betty Lous Getting Out Tonight
Words and music by bob seger
Have you heard the news
Its all over town
If you aint heard it boys
You better sit down
I got the story here
Its hot off the press
Brace yourself now
And take a deep breath
Grob a hold of something
Hold on tight
Betty lous gettin out tonight
First heard the rumor down on 12th and main
The poor druggist he was going insane
His stuff is selling out like never before
He finally had to up and close the store
All the boys were getting ready to fight
Betty lous gettin out tonight
Betty lous gettin out tonight
Betty lous gettin out tonight
She was bad
Her momma got mad
But now her momma said its all right
All the boys are getting ready and right
Betty lous gettinout tonight
Betty lou
Betty lou
Its all true
Its really true
What do you think about that boys
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Zackariah May
I'll tell you a sad story-Of a man named Zackariah May-He fell in love with a beautiful girl-Her name was Betty Ann Gray-Right away they atarted dating-But Zackariah didn't know-Betty Ann had a secret-She also had another beau-Zackariah heard from a friend-That Betty was cheating on him-When Zackaraih asked her about it-She said it's true his name is Jim-Zackariah told Betty Goodbye-The news she heard next day-A young drown in the river-His name was Zackariah May.
poem by Joy Thacker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dead Babies
Dead Babies
Little Betty ate a pound of aspirin
She got them from the shelf upon the wall
Betty's mommy wasn't there to save her
She didn't hear her little baby call
(Wah!)
Dead babies
Can't take care of themselves
Dead babies
Can't take things off the shelf
Well we didn't want you anyway
Lalala-la, lalala-la, la la la
Daddy is an agrophile in Texas
Mommy's on the bar most every night
Little Betty's sleeping in the graveyard
Living there in burgundy and white
Dead babies
Can't take care of themselves
Dead babies
Can't take things off the shelf
Well we didn't love you anyway
Lalala-la, lalala-la, la la la
Goodbye, Little Betty
Goodbye, Little Betty
So long, Little Betty
So long, Little Betty
Betty, so long
Dead babies
Can't take care of themselves
Dead babies
Can't take things off the shelf
Well we didn't need you anyway
Lalala-la, lalala-la, la la la
Goodbye, Little Betty
song performed by by Iced Earth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Betty Called Me In
Betty jo, you made it plain
When first you held me near.
Even though you caused me pain,
You were all the world to me.
We made love; we had such fun.
Many fine times went by us.
Now its all so hazy
And a little bit crazy.
Betty jo, my hearts on fire;
I dont need this crying.
The next time you see me,
The back seat of a taxis where Ill be.
Betty called me in to say goodnight,
Much to my relief and pure delight.
I think that was my big love scene
I do belive her engine run all right.
Betty said: get ready, the time has come.
I was young and the good life had begun.
And with the dawn, the child in me was gone,
But it made a man out of me that night.
Betty made my clothes and sewed my jeans,
Listened to my songs and foolish schemes.
I think the way she got to me
Was aimed like a laser beam right to the soul.
Betty, my true love, do what you do tonight.
Where she goes I hope she knows shes right.
The worst demand and the best of times,
She was never the kind to kick and bitch and fight.
Betty called me in to say goodnight,
Much to my relief and pure delight.
And with the dawn, the child in me was gone,
But it made a man out of me that night.
I think that was my big love scene
I do believe her engine run all right.
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Betty
Oh Betty
You know I loved you so
I'm shattered
It hurt so much to see you go
Give me your heart, I'll keep it beating
And your blood will spill no more
Oh I want to love you Betty
But I can't
'Cause you closed the greatest of doors
Oh Betty
Don't tell heaven where you've been
Don't you know that needing love is not a sin
Give me your soul, I'll be it's keeper
And the words I speak will be yours
Oh I try to hate you Betty
But I can't
'Cause you closed the greatest of doors
And the leaves are starting to fall from the trees again
And I remember when
And autumn wind sang a song of a sin
But I wasn't ready
Oh Betty
Oh Betty
Don't tell heaven where you've been
Didn't you know that needing love is not a sin
Give me your heart, I'll keep it beating
And your blood will spill no more
Oh I want to love you Betty
But I can't
'Cause you closed the greatest of doors
You closed the greatest of doors
song performed by by Tiffany
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Johnny went to Hollywood
Johnny went to Hollywood
Said he’s gonna be a star
Things didn’t turn out so good
Johnny’s livin’ in his car
You shoulda seen him at the prom back in high school
You woulda bet he’s gonna be a star
Dancin’ with the queen with his tux and his crown on
Now Johnny’s livin’ in his car
Poor Johnny poor Johnny
He played Bo Decker when the senior class did “Bus Stop”
He had the junior girls all in a rage
Lookin’ like James Dean in a leather coat and t-shirt
You’da sworn that Johnny was born for the stage
Go Johnny! Go Johnny!
Johnny went to Hollywood
Said he’s gonna be a star
Things didn’t turn out so good
Johnny’s livin’ in his car
Poor Johnny, poor Johnny
He nearly got himself a diet Coke commercial
But they said he didn’t fit the part
Now he plays a waiter in a small café downtown
The way he says, “What will you have? ” is such an art!
Go Johnny! Go Johnny!
Johnny went to Hollywood
Said he’s gonna be a star
Things didn’t turn out so good
Johnny’s livin’ in his car
Poor Johnny, poor Johnny
poem by KMC Centlivre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Down To The Well
Down to the well
Betty always knows
Betty always tells
She laughing desperately
She said it felt like a river inside her bones
When she went down to the well
Gonna be with her
She is gonna take me there
Lead me by my hand
Her body a rocking chair for my soul
I can hardly wait, baby
I can hardly wait
til we go down to the well
Down to the well
Been thinking to myself
And if a lifes not long
What matter does it make
If therell be favorite songs playing in my head
When we go down to the well
I can hardly wait, betty
I can hardly wait
till we go down to the well
Down to the well
song performed by by Pixies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Alternative - 1927
Betty Yack, of Mittyack, charming was and young;
But Betty Yack of Mittyack, had a bitter tongue.
And she married her one Otto who henceforth seemed doomed for life,
To submit to the upbraiding of his bonny, bitter wife.
Betty Yack of Mittyack, joined, while still quite charming,
That association having aims for better farming.
'So far, so good, my bitter Bet,' remarked her husband, Otto.
'If you join associations you must then adopt the motto.'
Betty read the articles and pondered quite a while,
Then nodded to her husband with a soft but gentle smile.
And the happy little couple are at last released from strife.
For Betty Yack, of Mittyack, stays dumb for all her life.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Loui’s Bark
In Cincinnati in the winter freezing cold,
Betty and her son would be brave and very bold.
They would venture out and find a little guy,
The smallest Yorkie puppy with love in his eyes.
Yes, a little Yorkie that was small but not afraid,
Betty named him Loui after a song her son played.
Yes, Loui is a sweet pup, but also has a bark,
he protects Betty as they walk in the dark.
He is very protective and watches with his keen eyes,
He’s not afraid of nobody while watching Betty’s side.
Especially at City Place where people are about,
He is quick to bark while checking them out.
Loui the little Yorkie needs to know,
if stranger passing by are a friend or a foe.
So remember Loui who’s bark
is smaller than his bite,
He will protect Betty day or night.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on September 17,2011
www.christinasunrise.com www.purplepoems.com
www.suzaechevalier.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Loui's Bark
In Cincinnati in the winter freezing cold,
Betty and her son would be brave and very bold.
They would venture out and find a little guy,
The smallest Yorkie puppy with love in his eyes.
Yes, a little Yorkie that was small but not afraid,
Betty named him Loui after a song her son played.
Yes, Loui is a sweet pup, but also has a bark,
he protects Betty as they walk in the dark.
He is very protective and watches with his keen eyes,
He's not afraid of nobody while watching Betty's side.
Especially at City Place where people are about,
He is quick to bark while checking them out.
Loui the little Yorkie needs to know,
if stranger passing by are a friend or a foe.
So remember Loui who's bark
is smaller than his bite,
He will protect Betty day or night.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on September 17,2011
www.suzae.com www.suechevalier.com
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Growing Up Before Time
You stood outside
the ABC cinema
with Helen looking
at the framed photographs
of the stills
from the film
then showing
she clutching her doll
Battered Betty
you standing there
pointing out
the main characters
my old man said
he'd take me
to see this
on Saturday
you said
Helen rocked Betty
in her arms
I hope our child
doesn't call you
old man
she said
maybe he won't
you replied
it might be a she
Helen said
sure it might
you said
you gave Betty a look
as she hung there
in Helen's arms
you looked back
at the photo stills
putting your hands
in the pockets
of your jeans
maybe
you can take me
to the cinema
when we are older
Helen said
and we can sit
at the back
like those grown ups do
and kiss
you sensed her hand
touch your arm
and rub it up
and down
Betty moving
as Helen's arm moved
sure
you said
long as I can still see
the movie
Helen handed you Betty
and you took
your hands out
of your pockets
and held her gingerly
like she might go
crap on you
and Helen put
a hand in her pocket
and pulled out
a few coins
I might have enough
here for some fries
she said
ok
you replied
and you walked
beside Helen
along the New Kent Road
to the Neptune's fish shop
holding Battered Betty
carefully against
your cowboy shirt
the one your mother
bought you
for your birthday
the year before
Helen talked
of children's names
and you thought
of the Wild West
and cowboy games.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Johnny Dont Do It
Johnny dont do it
Johnny dont do it
Johnny dont do it
Johnny dont do it
Johnny was an angel
An angel dressed in black
He used to hang around the guys
Down at the local track
He tried so hard to join them
But they always turned him back
Johnny dont do it
He was an angel
Johnny dont do it
Such an angel
He was only 17
Just got out of school
He stole a bike from joes garage
To prove that he was cool
He didnt know that the brakes were worn
And fate can be so cruel
Johnny dont do it
He was an angel
Johnny dont do it
Such an angel
Johnny dont do it
Johnny dont do it
Johnny dont do it
Johnny dont do it
Well johnny went a riding
With his girlfriend on the back seat
Looking for some action
And they found it down a back street
Suddenly a truck pulled out
He tried to step on the brake
Johnny dont do it (here is a news flash)
Johnny dont do it (today, johnny kowalski, also known as johnny
Angel)
Johnny dont do it (and his young fiance francine, were tragically
Killed)
Johnny dont do it (in a cycle accident)
Dont do it, dont do it (any witnesses please contact)
Dont do it, dont do it (the police at precinct 29)
Now johnnys with the angels
The angels in the sky
I wonder if he thinks of us
As he goes riding by
If only had listened
Oh the number of times we tried
To tell him
Johnny dont do it
He was an angel
Johnny dont do it
Such an angel
Johnny dont do it
He was an angel
Johnny dont do it
Such an angel
Johnny dont do it
Johnny dont do it
Johnny dont do it
Johnny dont do it
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Johnny B. Goode
Deep down in louisianna
Close to new orleans,
Way back up in the woods
Among the evergreens,
There stand a country cabin
Made of clay and wood,
Where lives a young country boy
Named johnny b.goode,
He never ever learned
To read or write a book so well,
But he could play his guitar
Just like a-ringing a bell.
Go go, go johnny go go go!
Go johnny go go go!
Go johnny go go go!
Go johnny go go go!
Aah johnny b.goode!
He used to carry his guitar
In a gunny sack,
Sit beneath the trees
By the railroad track.
Oh sitting and a-playing
In the shade,
Drumming to the rhythm
That the drivers made.
People passing by
Used to stop and say:
My oh my,
That country boy can play.
Go go, go johnny go go go!
Go johnny go go go!
Go johnny go go go!
Go johnny go go go!
Aah johnny b.goode!
Well his mama told him:
Someday you will be a man.
And you will be the leader
Of a big old band.
Many people coming
From miles around,
To hear you play your music
Till the sun goes down.
Maybe some day
Your name will be in light,
Saying: johnny
B. goode tonight!
Go go, go johnny go go go!
Go johnny go go go!
Go johnny go go go!
Go johnny go go go!
Aah johnny b.goode!
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drop Your Buns Aunt Betty
Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
And that package on your back.
We ate your baked cookies,
And they went rather fast.
Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
We know they are delicious
Since they're made with cinnamon.
We're not a bit suspicious
Of the love that's in them.
Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
And grab a little snack and relax.
You owe us that!
Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
And that package on your back.
We ate your baked cookies,
And they went rather fast.
Drop your buns Aunt Betty.
Would you like a bowl of soup,
To boot that mood that has you pooped.
From all that mixing in the kitchen fixing food that you do.
There's some noodles with onions and peppers in it too!
Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
And that package on your back...
And relax.
Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
We know they are delicious
Since they're made with cinnamon.
We're not a bit suspicious
Of the love that's in them.
Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
And grab a little snack and relax.
You owe us that!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Can Call Me Al
A man walks down the street
He says why am I soft in the middle now
Why am I soft in the middle
The rest of my life is so hard
I need a photo-opportunity
I want a shot at redemption
Dont want to end up a cartoon
In a cartoon graveyard
Bonedigger bonedigger
Dogs in the moonlight
Far away my well-lit door
Mr. beerbelly beerbelly
Get these mutts away from me
You know I dont find this stuff amusing anymore
If youll be my bodyguard
I can be your long lost pal
I can call you betty
And betty when you call me
You can call me al
A man walks down the street
He says why am I short of attention
Got a short little span of attention
And wo my nights are so long
Wheres my wife and family
What if I die here
Wholl be my role-model
Now that my role-model is
Gone gone
He ducked back down the alley
With some roly-poly little bat-faced girl
All along along
There were incidents and accidents
There were hints and allegations
If youll be my bodyguard
I can be your long lost pal
I can call you betty
And betty when you call me
You can call me al
Call me al
A man walks down the street
Its a street in a strange world
Maybe its the third world
Maybe its his first time around
He doesnt speak the language
He holds no currency
He is a foreign man
He is surrounded by the sound
The sound
Cattle in the marketplace
Scatterlings and orphanages
He looks around, around
He sees angels in the architecture
Spinning in infinity
He says amen! and hallelujah!
If youll be my bodyguard
I can be your long lost pal
I can call you betty
And betty when you call me
You can call me al
Call me al
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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