Mother (My Point of View)
Sewing machine:
Jean patches,
Superman capes,
Dress hems 10pm,
Night before the concert.
Kitchen sink:
Baking-powder biscuits,
Crock pot beef stew,
Chicken with carrots and potatoes.
Not college food.
Minivan:
Shuttle the boys from school,
Aftercare, soccer, track,
Basketball, haircut, orthodontist's.
Buy printer ink, daddy bread,
Poster board for Elias's project due Tuesday.
College mail box:
Socks I forgot over Christmas,
Picture of the boys and I
With our gingerbread house.
Dad's pumpkin bread,
Waterproof gloves,
Cutting board.
Mother:
Band-aid, bathroom cleanser,
Dry clothes, spaghetti sauce.
Emergency contact.
Porch light on late nights.
poem by Gina Prettybrowneyes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Preparing Dinner
I watch the pot on the stove
Water is overspilling
The rice is cooking
With bubbles galore
I smother chicken in sauce
Sauce that is made up of green pepper, black pepper and onions
Accompanied with that is the All in one spice.
Watch out for the toilet paper
The spices start talking
The chicken gets fried
The smell of breyani echoes through the house
I chop the potatoes as well as the carrots
I open up McCain veggies
And distribute it with the food
I put more spices in and the McCain veggies
Gets assimilated into the food
The pot is filled with colours
The steam fills the house
The brown chicken starts talking to the yellow potatoes
So does the carrots
The rice is strained
It rises to the core
I use tastic rice
Because it is the best out of them all
I set the table with plates
And it is ready to be filled
One by one they get dished out
First the rice (centered) and then the potatoes and chicken
Ice cream is served as desert
Coca-Cola is poured into glasses
The sweet taste bubbles in my mouth
The hot food burns my mouth
While the cold drink soothes its pain
I smother tomatoes and onions with vinegar
And serve them next to the food
The sauce gives the tongue extra kick
And goes down with a good drink
poem by Lee John Siebritz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Got The Beef
Had ourselves a little barbeque
Corn on the cob and mashed potatoes too
Joe got the fritos, ernie got the stew
So what did you bring
We got the beef
We got the beef
We got the beef
Yeah, we got it
(we got the beef)
Now, everybody get on your feet (we got the beef)
Grab a hunk of ? ? ? beef (we got the beef)
Chuck daddy (we got the beef)
Now, ground round by the pound
We got the beef (we got the beef)
We got the beef (we got the beef, we got the beef)
We got the beef (we got the beef, we got the)
We got the beef
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Talk of joy: there may be things better than beef stew and baked potatoes and home-made bread - there may be.
quote by David Grayson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Talk of joy there may be things better than beef stew and baked potatoes and home-made bread -- there may be.
quote by David Grayson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Know What Boys Like
Boys, boys
He you wanna know something?
Boys, boys
Boys like girls
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
I've got what boys want
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I seem them looking (looking)
I make them want me
I like to tease them
And they want to touch me
I never let them
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like me
I got my cat moves
That so upsets them
Zippers and buttons
Fun to frustrate them
They get so angry
Like pouty children
Denied their candy
I laugh right at them
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
I've got what boys want
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
I know what boys like
I got what boys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like, boys like me
I think you're special
I might let you
You're so much different
I might let you
There's no one like you
I might let you
Or would you like that?
I might let you
Sucker!
Boys, b-b-boys
Boys, b-b-b-boys
G-g-g-g-got what boys want
G-g-g-got
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
I've got what boys want
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
I know what boys like
I got what boys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like, boys like me
I know what boys like
I got what boys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like, boys like me
Yeah, I know what boys like
Come on girls, you know what they like
It ain't no secret
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
I've got what boys want
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
song performed by by Vitamin C
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lining Track
This song was first released on the all aboard! album. it is the only album it has been released on.
Mo boys, is you right
Done got it right
All I hate about linin track
These ol boys are gonna break my back
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
See eloise gonna line em track
Down in the holler below the fleld
Angels working on the chariot wheel
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
See eloise gonna line em track
Mary and the babe was a sittin in the shade
Thinking on the money that I aint made
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
See eloise gonna line em track
Moses stood on the red sea shore
Gotta batten down the waves with a 2 by 4
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
See eloise gonna line em track
Now if I could I surely would
Stand on the rock where moses stood
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
See eloise gonna line em track
Matthew, mark, luke and john
All them disciples dead and gone
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
See eloise gonna line em track
Mo boys, is you right
Done got it right
All I hate about lining track
These ol boys about to break my back
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
Mo boys, cant you line em (track a lack)
See eloise gonna line em track
Words and music by huddie ledbetter
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Growing Up Hard
Counting pennies, to buy a loaf of bread
More often than not, hungry going to bed
Us carrying mothers sewing machine, every thirty days
Three blocks to the pawn shop, till the welfare check pays
Got the welfare check, would get the sewing machine out
We'd pawn it again next month, without a doubt
Living on commodities, free peanut butter and cheese
Going to school without a coat we'd always freeze
We never had many nice clothes to wear
Mother would mend them when they began to tear
Having meat for dinner was a real rare thing
Breakfast and supper, beans and rice we were eating
We wore our shoes until they fell apart
Mother could only buy one of us a pair, at the mart
Quiet often we were left all by ourselves
While mother worked or went out for cocktails
The days weren't so bad alone, we were in school
But young and left alone at night was really cruel
Feeling so alone, just us three
Please stay home tonight mama, we'd plea
Times were hard when I was a child
This poem I've written, is putting it mild
poem by Donna Nimmo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bad Boys
Woo-woo
Dear mummy, dear daddy,
You had plans forme, I was your only son.
And long before this baby boy could count to three,
You knew just what he would become.
Run along to school,
No child of mine grows up a fool,
Run along to school.
When you tried to tell me what to do,
I just shut my mouth and smiled at you,
One thing that I know for sure-
Bad boys
Stick together, never sad boys
Good guys
They made rules for fools, so get wise...
Dear mummy, dear daddy,
Now Im nineteen as you see,
Im handsome, tall, and strong.
So what the hell gives you the right to look at me,
As if to say hell, what went wrong?
Where were you last night?
You look as if you had a fight.
Where were you last night?
Well I think that you may just be right,
But dont try to keep me in tonight,
Because Im big enough to break down the door.
Bad boys
Stick together, never sad boys
Good guys
They made rules for fools, so get wise...
Boys like you, are bad through and through.
Still, girls like me, always seem to be with you....
We cant help but worry,
Youre in such a hurry,
Mixing with the wrong boys,
Playing with the wrong toys.
Easy girls,
And late nights,
Cigarettes, and love bites
Why do you have to be so cruel?
Youre such a fool
Bad boys
Stick together, never sad boys
Good guys
They made rules for fools, so get wise...
song performed by by George Michael
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Father Christmas
When I was small I believed in santa claus
Though I knew it was my dad
And I would hang up my stocking at christmas
Open my presents and Id be glad
But the last time I played father christmas
I stood outside a department store
A gang of kids came over and mugged me
And knocked my reindeer to the floor
They said:
Father christmas, give us some money
Dont mess around with those silly toys.
Well beat you up if you dont hand it over
We want your bread so dont make us annoyed
Give all the toys to the little rich boys
Dont give my brother a steve austin outfit
Dont give my sister a cuddly toy
We dont want a jigsaw or monopoly money
We only want the real mccoy
Father christmas, give us some money
Well beat you up if you make us annoyed
Father christmas, give us some money
Dont mess around with those silly toys
But give my daddy a job cause he needs one
Hes got lots of mouths to feed
But if youve got one, Ill have a machine gun
So I can scare all the kids down the street
Father christmas, give us some money
We got no time for your silly toys
Well beat you up if you dont hand it over
Give all the toys to the little rich boys
Have yourself a merry merry christmas
Have yourself a good time
But remember the kids who got nothin
While youre drinkin down your wine
Father christmas, give us some money
We got no time for your silly toys
Well beat you up if you dont hand it over
We want your bread, so dont make us annoyed
Give all the toys to the little rich boys
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After School Tea.
Mother said
you were to go back
to Mrs Clark's house
for tea after school
and she would pick
you up later
after work
and so when
the bell went
for the end
of the school day
you went with Mrs Clark
and her daughter Helen
for tea and Mrs Clark
talked all the way
to her house
her words rough
as hewn stones
going over your head
to which you just nodded
or shook your head
and when you arrived
at the house
which smelt
of past dinners
and washing drying
and the baby's nappies
she said
What would you like for tea?
Bread and butter
bread jam
bread and Bovril
or dripping?
and how about
a large mug of tea?
Helen said
I'm having bread and jam
and a mug of tea
why don't you too?
you said
Yes that will be fine
and shyly sat in a chair
by the window
looking out
at the backyard
where washing hung
on a clothesline
and an old doll's pram
sat rusting by a wall
and Helen came
and sat next to you
in her grey skirt
and off white blouse
and swung her legs
back and forth
under the chair
her white ankle socks
and black scuffed shoes
coming in
and going out
of view
and she said
After tea
I'll show you my dolls
and the doll's house
my daddy made
out of orange boxes
and as Mrs Clark
made the tea
you sensed Helen's small hand
run along your arm
which set alarm bells ringing
in your head
and a sweating in your palm.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Crying For Bread
"Please, lady! please pay my Ma for her sewing;
The suit fits you splendidly--that you'll allow.
Oh! don't say tomorrow! I see you are going;
But this will not hinder long--please pay me now.
Ma work'd all night for you! ev'ry minute;
Now she lies groaning with pain in her head;
And there by the pantry (with not a thing in it),
Sits poor little Theodore crying for bread!
Poor little Theodore crying for bread!"
"On! driver, on! they have all gone before us,
And I will not be late at the ball," Beauty said;
And wintry winds echoed her answer in chorus
With poor little Theodore crying for bread!
Poor little Theodore crying for bread!
"Please lady! please pay my Ma for her sewing;
I'll run and get change for you. Don't call me bold--
But how could you dance tonight all the time knowing
That we were left suffering, hungry and cold?
Ma looks so wild! she keeps calling for Daisy;
That was the name of my sister that's dead.
Oh! what shall I do, with my Ma going crazy,
And poor little Theodore cryiing for bread?
Poor little Theodore crying for bread!"
"Please lady! please pay my Ma for her sewing;
She must have some medicine--that let me buy.
Now, don't speak of beggars! 'tis money you're owing:
Do please, pay me part of it--else we must die."
On the wheels roll'd, and Fidele returned weeping;
Ah! in her absence a spirit had fled,
And morning light found her a weary watch keeping,
With poor little Theodore crying for bread!
Poor little Theodore crying for bread!"
poem by Henry Clay Work
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London Boys
Cow bell strikes another night
Your eyes are heavy and your limbs all ache
You've bought some coffee, butter and bread
You can't make a thing cause the meter's dead
You moved away
Hold your folks you're gonna stay away
Bright lights, Soho, Wardour street
You hope you make friends with the guys that you meet
Somebody shows you round
Now you've met the London boys
Things seem good again, someone cares about you
Oh, the first time that you tried a pill
You feel a little queasy, decidedly ill
You're gonna be sick, but you mustn't lose faith
To let yourself down would be a big disgrace
With the London boys, with the London boys
You're only seventeen, but you think you've grown
In the month you've been away from your parents' home
You take the pills too much
You don't give a damn about that jobs you've got
So long as you're with the London boys
A London boy, oh a London boy
Your flashy clothes are your pride and joy
A London boy, a London boy
You think you've had a lot of fun
But you ain't got nothing, you're on the run
It's too late now, cause you're out there boy
You've got it made with the rest of the toys
Now you wish you'd never left your home
You've got what you wanted but you're on your own
With the London boys
Now you've met the London boys
Now you've met the London boys
Now you've met the London boys
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Maria... Maria! ! !
She was the prettiest girl in school
A preacher’s daughter and thirteen
I remember how naughty she was
She gave me my first French kiss
We kissed until we graduated
Off to the college with the boys
I kissed until my knees trembled
Next graduation was terrible
Went to work and kissed my boss
On weekends I am kissing the boys
Went back to school for you know what
But still wondering where she’s at
How funny I thought this was
With all the boys I ever kissed
Some nice and some are missed
But I can never forget my first kiss
poem by Kay Barcelon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My sisters like cooking at my place. It has a bit more room, and the food tastes a little bit better. A big pot of spaghetti and sauce, some warm French bread - works all the time. I think I've been eating pasta for 26 years.
Tommy's Dead
YOU may give over plough, boys,
You may take the gear to the stead,
All the sweat o' your brow, boys,
Will never get beer and bread.
The seed's waste, I know, boys,
There's not a blade will grow, boys,
'Tis cropped out, I trow, boys,
And Tommy's dead.
Send the colt to fair, boys,
He's going blind, as I said,
My old eyes can't bear, boys,
To see him in the shed;
The cow's dry and spare, boys,
She's neither here nor there, boys,
I doubt she's badly bread;
Stop the mill to-morn, boys,
There'll be no more corn, boys,
Neither white nor red;
There's no sign of grass, boys,
You may sell the goat and the ass, boys,
The land's not what it was, boys,
And the beasts must be fed:
You may turn Peg away, boys,
You may pay off old Ned,
We've had a dull day, boys,
And Tommy's dead.
Move my chair on the floor, boys,
Let me turn my head:
She's standing there in the door, boys,
Your sister Winifred!
Take her away from me, boys,
Your sister Winifred!
Move me round in my place, boys,
Let me turn my head,
Take her away from me, boys,
As she lay on here death-bed,
The bones of her thin face, boys,
As she lay on her death-bed!
I don't know how it be, boys,
When all's done and said,
But I see her looking at me, boys,
Whenever I turn my head;
Out of the big oak tree, boys,
Out of the garden-bed,
And the lily as pale as she, boys,
And the rose that used to be red.
There's something not right, boys,
But I think it's not in my head,
I've kept my precious sight, boys, --
The Lord be hallowéd!
Outside and in
The ground is cold to my tread,
The hills are wizen and thin,
The sky is shrivelled and shred,
The hedges down by the loan
I can count them bone by bone,
The leaves are open and spread,
But I see the teeth of the land,
And hands like a dead man's hand,
And the eyes of a dead man's head.
There's nothing but cinders and sand,
The rat and the mouse have fed,
And the summer's empty and cold;
Over valley and wold
Wherever I turn my head
There's a mildew and a mould,
The sun's going out overhead,
And I'm very old,
And Tommy's dead.
What am I staying for, boys,
You're all born and bred,
'Tis fifty years and more, boys,
Since wife and I were wed,
And she'd gone before, boys,
And Tommy's dead.
She was always sweet, boys,
Upon his curly head,
She knew she'd never see't, boys,
And she stole off to bed;
I've been siting up alone, boys,
For he'd come home, he said,
But it's time I was gone boys,
For Tommy's dead.
Put the shutters up, boys,
Bring out the beer and bread,
Make haste and sup, boys,
For my eyes are heavy as lead:
There's something wrong i' the cup, boys,
There's something ill wi' the bread,
I don't care to sup, boys,
And Tommy's dead.
I'm not right, I doubt, boys,
I've such a sleepy head,
I shall nevermore be stout, boys,
You may carry me to bed.
What are you about, boys?
The prayers are all said,
The fire's raked out, boys,
And Tommy's dead.
The stairs are too steep, boys,
You may carry me to the head,
The night's dark and deep, boys,
Your mother's long in bed,
'Tis time to go to sleep, boys,
And Tommy's dead.
I'm not used to a kiss, boys,
You may shake my hand instead.
All things go amiss, boys,
You may lay me where she is, boys,
And I'll rest my old head:
'Tis a poor world, this, boys,
And Tommy's dead.
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Biscuits and Bread
Though moulded of the same dough,
were all cast of a different mould,
most rise soft and springy as bread,
other misfits end up as biscuits instead,
yet none wants to be the thing that they were born and bred,
to be,
and it baffles me, the irony,
that though there's time for each,
in any ordinary bakery,
bread soon tries to harden,
and winds up stale instead,
and biscuits crumble, become brittle,
soon as they try to soften,
and be bread.
poem by Kevin Gachuma Waithaka
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Les Boys
Les boys do cabaret
Les boys are glad to be gay
Theyre not afraid now
Disco bar in germany
Les boys are glad to be
Upon parade now
Les boys got leather straps
Les boys got ss caps
But they got no gun now
Get dressed up get a little risque
Got to do a little s & m these days
Its all in fun now
Les boys come on again
For the high class whores
And the businessmen
Who drive in their mercedes benz
To a disco bar in old munchen
They get the jokes that the d.j. makes
They get nervous and they make mistakes
Theyre bad for business
Some tourist take a photograph
Les boys dont get one laugh
He says theyre useless
Late at night when theyre gone away
Les boys dream of jean genet
High heel shoes and a black beret
And the posters on the wall that say
Les boys do cabaret
Les boys are glad to be gay
song performed by by Dire Straits
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nights I Can't Remember, Friends I'll Never Forget
Me and JB and Sonny, we grew up on the buddy plan
Weren't we some bad mothers, closer than brothers
Had a rockin' little three-piece band
Yeah we wrote a lot of songs about women
Then we tried to sing 'em pretty for the girls
Pushin' everythin' we did to the limit
Livin' right out on the edge of the world.
I recall on summer night at a party
We were sophomores hangin' out by the lake
I got off on some wine with a waitress
Sonny had a girlfriend that just couldn't wait
JB hooked up around midnight
With an ugly girl from up in the city
He downed every can of beer in the cooler
Just tryin' to drink that poor thing pretty.
Hey me and the boys we made a lot of noise
And we, sang all our songs for free
We partied through college, acquired some knowledge
Never did get a degree
We did it our way lookin' back on the good days
There's still not a lot I regret
Nights I Can't Remember, Friends I'll Never Forget.
I grew up and got married, took a job with the FPL
Sonny's got a good life, a baby and a good wife
And everyday he carries the mail
JB is a cross-country trucker
And he called last night from South Carolina
He said I fallen in love with a waitress
That I met at a Waffle House diner.
He said the years seem to roll on faster
Than they did back when we were kids
Then we need us a break from the grindstone
That's exactly what we did.
We put in a phone call to Sonny
Then we stayed out all night long
We drank a few cold ones, then told a few old ones
And sang another verse to the song.
Yeah we were boys who made a lot of noise
And we, sang all our songs for free
We partied through college, acquired some knowledge
Never did get a degree
We did it our way lookin' back on the good days
There's still not a lot I regret
There's some Nights I Can't Remember, with Friends I'll Never Forget.
All those Nights I Can't Remember, Friends I'll Never Forget.
song performed by by Toby Keith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Test My Appetite
Some prefer and choose perfection,
To convey ideals...
Promoted to instill.
With a showing of a knowledge...
In a hope that this appeals.
And then there are those,
Who have chosen to be real.
Grounded and solid of sound minds.
To find they are critiqued...
By those of the pretentious kind.
'It is not proper etiquette,
To dip biscuits in stew.'
~Hey...
I am here to eat.
Not to see what others do.
And IF you're looking for a silver spoon.
To eat your stew?
You go and do that.
And my biscuits will be in your stew too!
In these times,
I will nourish first...
Before rehearsing any refinement,
I've learned from the past.
But today does not work.~
'It is not proper etiquette,
To dip biscuits in stew.'
~Hey...
I am here to eat.
Not to see what others do.
And IF you're looking for a silver spoon.
To eat your stew?
You go and do that.
And my biscuits will be in your stew too!
Go ahead!
Test my appetite!
I dare you.
Leave that stew.
And I'll show you what can be done with it.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The London Boys
Cow bell strikes another night
Your eyes are heavy and your limbs all ache
Youve bought some coffee, butter and bread
You cant make a thing cause the meters dead
You moved away
Hold your folks youre gonna stay away
Bright lights, soho, wardour street
You hope you make friends with the guys that you meet
Somebody shows you round
Now youve met the london boys
Things seem good again, someone cares about you
Oh, the first time that you tried a pill
You feel a little queasy, decidedly ill
Youre gonna be sick, but you mustnt lose faith
To let yourself down would be a big disgrace
With the london boys, with the london boys
Youre only seventeen, but you think youve grown
In the month youve been away from your parents home
You take the pills too much
You dont give a damn about that jobs youve got
So long as youre with the london boys
A london boy, oh a london boy
Your flashy clothes are your pride and joy
A london boy, a london boy
You think youve had a lot of fun
But you aint got nothing, youre on the run
Its too late now, cause youre out there boy
Youve got it made with the rest of the toys
Now you wish youd never left your home
Youve got what you wanted but youre on your own
With the london boys
Now youve met the london boys
Now youve met the london boys
Now youve met the london boys
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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