Outside snow dazzled the air
each joyous dream bit twirling out from infinity
as I sat in Meng’s with the crew
watching the soothing streets without desire.
Suddenly I heard the exuberant sound of a kazoo
going at full blast, Yankee Doodle Dandy the tune,
or something close to it
and that could only mean one person, Henry Kosminski,
known to all the world as The Original Mr. Universe
here to earn a few dollars,
as he often did since his retirement from the circus.
Well, at the age of 92 I suppose he couldn’t do
what he did as a young fellow.
Besides seventy years at the same job was enough for any man.
Ginger, Sugar, and Susan Honey Baker
gawked at Kosminski’s still formidable physique
his body still retaining remnants of glory.
Now silence as Henry bent straight down,
lifted a chair by the bottom of one leg
straight into the air, then gently placed
the tip of the leg on his nose, removed his hand,
and left the chair balanced there.
Ginger, Sugar, and Susan Honey Baker
clapped without reservation and
while the chair still perched serenely on his nose
he played the kazoo.
At the conclusion of this demonstration
of strength, skill, and musical ability
he sat at their table and they each handed him a five
a moment later Huey brought
a steaming bowl of oatmeal
topped with six soft prunes which Henry eagerly slurped down
as this was his only meal of the day,
the money collected most certainly
used to buy trinkets for his mother
still alive at the age of 110 in the Half Moon Nursing Home.
“God loves Henry Kosminski, ” I announced.
Mary Dillion said, “Long life is a marvelous wonder.”
“He’s a great man, ” said Pete Bennell,
“all these years and he still takes care of his mother.”
George Lowrie opened a small brown bottle,
swallowed pills, how many I didn’t know
nor did Lowrie, finally, “I’ll never see 38, ” he said.
“Take a few more, ” said Mary and Lowrie did so.
Of course, I felt pity, his lifelong depression a brutal curse,
but the snow and the sight of Henry slurping prunes
tilted joy my way and I held fast to such a precious item
even when I heard Lowrie say, “What do they talk about? ”
poem by Charles Chaim Wax
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Henry and Woman Servicing
You don't want to go
With that kind of woman,
Henry's mother said.
What kind of woman
is that? Henry asked.
The kind that offer
themselves to men
who are not their
husbands, his mother
replied, sitting back
in the soft chair by
the fireplace, joining
her fingers, forming
what she used to call
her church. Henry watched
her church form of finger
forming, his eyes sliding
over his mother's dyed
hair, the grey streaks,
the nose, the thin red
painted lips. But isn't
that kind of women
providing a service?
Henry asked, walking
to the window, watching
his father mowing the
lawn, sweat on the brow,
the eyes dead looking.
Service? His mother said,
her tone icy, Service?
She repeated, that's not
service, Henry that's sin.
S.I.N. Henry raised his
eyebrows, there was in
the pocket of his pants,
a pack of fives, unused
as yet. Oh, Henry said,
Duncan Smold had this
woman in the back of
his car, he called it hard
smooching or some such
word. Henry's mother
eyed him closely, her eyes
narrowing. Then he sinned,
Henry, he sinned, she said,
pushing a hand through
her hair, her features going
red. Oh, right, Henry said,
I'll tell Duncan next time
he's in his car with some
woman in the back, that
he's sinning, Henry turned
away, he didn't want his
mother to see him grinning.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Come On Henry
Come on Henry she said
come up and see me some
time but Henry said sorry
dame but I can't today it's
just not possible the wife's
coming back from the shops
and you know what wives are
like and she said oh come
on Henry that's not stopped
you before climbing the stairs
and knocking my door oh that
was for sugar or was it coffee?
Henry said I cannot recall oh
heck Henry don't be such a bore
you've been to my bed many
times before oh Honey don't
be so with me now I got to be
careful the wife's in a mood
the neighbours are talking they
twitch their curtains and peek
through blinds oh to hell with
them she said they've filthy old
minds oh listen baby maybe
tomorrow when the wife's away
I‘ll come borrow some sugar or
coffee or whatever you like and
share your bed you'll come now
Henry or not come at all the young
dame said oh come on sugar give
me a break let me come another
time and I will bring flowers and
chocolates and love and my body
hot ok she said if you promise me
such I'll cut to a break not for you
or your body but my heart's sake.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Loving Henry
Henry, Henry, do you love me?
Do I love you, Mary?
Oh, can you mean to liken me
To the aspen tree.
Whose leaves do shake and vary,
From white to green
And back again,
Shifting and contrary?
Henry, Henry, do you love me,
Do you love me truly?
Oh, Mary, must I say again
My love's a pain,
A torment most unruly?
It tosses me
Like a ship at sea
When the storm rages fully.
Henry, Henry, why do you love me?
Mary, dear, have pity!
I swear, of all the girls there are
Both near and far,
In country or in city,
There's none like you,
So kind, so true,
So wise, so brave, so pretty.
poem by Robert Graves
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Please, Mrs. Henry
Well, i've already had two beers
I'm ready for the broom
Please, missus henry, won't you
Take me to my room?
I'm a good ol' boy
But i've been sniffin' too many eggs
Talkin' to too many people
Drinkin' too many kegs
Please, missus henry, missus henry, please!
Please, missus henry, missus henry, please!
I'm down on my knees
An' i ain't got a dime
Well, i'm groanin' in a hallway
Pretty soon i'll be mad
Please, missus henry, won't you
Take me to your dad?
I can drink like a fish
I can crawl like a snake
I can bite like a turkey
I can slam like a drake
Please, missus henry, missus henry, please!
Please, missus henry, missus henry, please!
I'm down on my knees
An' i ain't got a dime
Now, don't crowd me, lady
Or i'll fill up your shoe
I'm a sweet bourbon daddy
An' tonight i am blue
I'm a thousand years old
And i'm a generous bomb
I'm t-boned and punctured
But i'm known to be calm
Please, missus henry, missus henry, please!
Please, missus henry, missus henry, please!
I'm down on my knees
An' i ain't got a dime
Now, i'm startin' to drain
My stool's gonna squeak
If i walk too much farther
My crane's gonna leak
Look, missus henry
There's only so much i can do
Why don't you look my way
An' pump me a few?
Please, missus henry, missus henry, please!
Please, missus henry, missus henry, please!
I'm down on my knees
An' i ain't got a dime
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Life Of Mary O’Henry & Simon Le Frankie
Is life chance, or pre-ordained
Is life chance, or pre-ordained
Mary O’Henry,
Was born in a time when the world was at war
Nobody saw
Grew up an orphan
Struggling through life never knowing there’s more
Than being wretchedly poor
Oh life can hold so much pain
You wonder why it should be so
There but for the grace of God, walks another
In sullen steps that could have been you
Is life chance, or pre-ordained
(The life of Mary O’Henry & Simon Le Frankie)
Is life chance, or pre-ordained
(The life of Mary O’Henry & Simon Le Frankie)
Simon Le Frankie,
was born with a headline in the Times
a paradigm
he grew up wealthy
living his life to the full, life can be so good, I guess as it should
Oh life can be endless champagne
You wonder why it should be so
There but for the grace of God walks another
In graceful steps that could have been you
Is life chance, or pre-ordained
(The life of Mary O’Henry & Simon Le Frankie)
Is life chance, or pre-ordained
(The life of Mary O’Henry & Simon Le Frankie)
Mary O’Henry - Grew into a woman, working wherever she could
In places no woman should, luckless in Hollywood
Simon Le Frankie – wondered the world on a wave that trebled in size
Until he died – they died the same time
Atlas in turmoil
Life is choices made in a game
Who moves the pieces
Is life chance or pre-ordained
Is life chance, or pre-ordained
(The life of Mary O’Henry & Simon Le Frankie)
Is life chance, or pre-ordained
(The life of Mary O’Henry & Simon Le Frankie)
poem by Colin Coplin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dont Ya Tell Henry
Dont ya tell henry,
Apples got your fly.
I went down to the river on a saturday morn,
A-lookin around just to see whos born.
I found a little chicken down on his knees,
I went up and yelled to him,
Please, please, please!
He said, dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Apples got your fly.
I went down to the corner at a-half past ten,
Is lookin around, I wouldnt say when.
I looked down low, I looked above,
And who did I see but the one I love.
She said, dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Apples got your fly.
Now, I went down to the beanery at half past twelve,
A-lookin around just to see myself.
I spotted a horse and a donkey, too,
I looked for a cow and I saw me a few.
They said, dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Apples got your fly.
Now, I went down to the pumphouse the other night,
A-lookin around, it was outa sight.
I looked high and low for that big ol tree,
I did go upstairs but I didnt see nobody but me.
I said, dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Apples got your fly.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Another Yankee Doodle
Yankee Doodle had a mind
To whip the Southern traitors,
Because they didn't choose to live
On codfish and potatoes,
Yankee Doodle, doodle-doo,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
And to keep his courage up
He took a drink of brandy.
Yankee Doodle said he found
By all the census figures,
That he could starve the rebels out,
If he could steal their niggers.
Yankee Doodle, doodle-doo,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
And then he took another drink
Of gunpowder and brandy.
Yankee Doodle made a speech;
'Twas very full of feeling;
'I fear,' he says, 'I cannot fight,
But I am good at stealing.'
Yankee Doodle, doodle-doo,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
Hurrah for Lincoln, he's the boy
To take a drop of brandy.
Yankee Doodle drew his sword,
And practiced all the passes;
Come, boys, we'll take another drink
When we get to Manassas.
Yankee Doodle, doodle-doo,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
They never reached Manassas plain,
And never got the brandy.
Yankee Doodle soon found out
That Bull Run was no trifle;
For if the North knew how to steal,
The South knew how to rifle.
Yankee Doodle, doodle-doo,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
'Tis very clear I took too much
Of that infernal brandy.
Yankee Doodle wheeled about,
And scampered off at full run,
And such a race was never seen
As that he made at Bull Run.
Yankee Doodle, doodle-doo,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
I haven't time to stop right now
To take a drop of brandy.
Yankee Doodle, oh! for shame,
You're always intermeddling;
Let guns alone, they're dangerous things;
You'd better stick to peddling.
Yankee Doodle, doodle-doo,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
When next I go to Bully Run
I'll throw away the brandy.
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Church of the Little Drummer Boy
He didn't do it for money,
He didn't to it for power,
It wasn't an inside job,
And he probably wasn't real.
But he wasn't controlled by the Mafia,
Maybe he was just a dream,
Or maybe just a hope,
Of what Christmas might mean.
Over the years many a child
Has heard of the Little Drummer Boy,
How he played his drum for Jesus
To bring the Baby some joy.
He didn't do it to be a big shot,
He wasn't Ginger Baker,
He played out of musical love,
And he wasn't a faker.
If you're looking for religion,
The Drummer Boy is good to go,
I mean, he's as churchy as it gets,
Considering the show.
poem by Richard Jarboe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Handy Dandy
Handy dandy, controversy surrounds him
He been around the world and back again
Something in the moonlight still hounds him
Handy dandy, just like sugar and candy
Handy dandy, if every bone in his body was broken he would never admit it
He got an all girl orchestra and when he says
Strike up the band, they hit it
Handy dandy, handy dandy
Bridge #1:
You say, what are ya made of?
He says, can you repeat what you said?
Youll say, what are you afraid of?
Hell say, nothin neither live nor dead.
Handy dandy, he got a stick in his hand and a pocket full of money
He says, darling, tell me the truth, how much time I got?
She says, you got all the time in the world, honey.
Handy dandy, handy dandy
Bridge #2:
Hes got that clear crystal fountain
Hes got that soft silky skin
Hes got that fortress on the mountain
With no doors, no windows, no thieves can break in
Handy dandy, sitting with a girl named nancy in a garden feelin kind of lazy
He says, ya want a gun? Ill give you one. she says, boy, you talking crazy.
Handy dandy, just like sugar and candy
Handy dandy, pour him another brandy
Handy dandy, he got a basket of flowers and a bag full or sorrow
He finishes his drink, he gets up from the table he says,
Okay, boys, Ill see you tomorrow.
Handy dandy, handy dandy, just like sugar and candy
Handy dandy, just like sugar and candy
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Walter Henry Hagan
Walter, walter henry
I say walter henry hagan
You done gone and broke my heart
Walter, walter henry
You know that I believed you
When you swore wed never part
Well you said you had to have me
And well you dang well did
You took me from my country home
When I was just a kid
And you took me off to boston
Put a baby on my knee
Left me to dangle-dingle
So far from tennessee
Now patrick might have been one
But you aint been no saint
But a good ole irish boy
They say well always have this drink
And you just wont stop chasin
All those other woman around
A ramblin and agamblin
Throwin irish whiskey down
Walter, walter henry
Walter henry hagan
You dont listen when I call
Walter, walter henry
Of all the men Ive ever loved
I loved you best of all
Oh play one for ol walter henry boys
Walter, walter henry
Walter henry hagan
You done left your mark on me
Walter, walter henry
If you ever sober up
Im waitin back in tennessee
If you ever sober up
Im waitin back in tennessee
Walter, walter henry
Yoddle-le-ee-hee
Yoddle-le-ee-hee
Walter henry hagan
You done left your mark on me
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sugar & Honey
(orbison--dees)
Sugar and honey, is what I cry for
Sugar and honey, is what Id die for
And darlin doll you make my life worthwhile
Because I want you sugar and honey.
Sugar and honey, keep me goin
Sugar and honey, I been a-knowin
Well everytime your lovin lips meet mine
You know I want you sugar and honey.
A little bit-a sugar, a whole lotta honey
Its alright sugar and honey mornin noon and night
Give me sugar and honey anytime.
Sugar and honey, is what I live for
Sugar and honey, for the flavor
Every little bitty thing you do
Just makes me love you, sugar and honey.
A little bit-a sugar, a whole lotta honey
Its alright sugar and honey, mornin noon and night
Yeah sugar and honey anytime, ah sugar and honey all the time
I need sugar and honey anytime.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Musical Box
Play me "Old King Cole"
that I may join with you,
all your hearts now seem so far from me
it hardly seems to matter now.
And the nurse will tell you lies
of a Kingdom beyond the skies.
But I'm lost within this half-world,
it hardly seems to matter now.
Play me my song,
here it comes again.
Play me my song,
here it comes again.
Just a little bit,
just a little bit more time,
time left to live out my life.
Play me my song,
here it comes again.
Play me my song,
here it comes again.
Old King Cole was a merry ould soul,
and a merry old soul was he.
So he called for his pipe,
and he called for his bowl,
and he called the his fiddlers three.
And the clock, tick tock,
on the mantlepiece,
and I want,
and I fell,
and I know,
and I touch the wall.
She's a lady, she's got time.
Brush back you hair, and let me get to know your face.
She's a lady, she's mine.
Brush back you hair, and let me get to know your flesh.
I've been waiting here for so long
and all this time that passed me by.
It doesn't seem to matter now.
You stand there with your fixed expression
casting doubt on all I have to say.
Why don't you touch me, touch me?
Why don't you touch me, touch me?
Touch me now, now now, now, now ...
The musical box:
While Henry Hamilton-Smythe minor (8) was playing croquet with Cynthia Jane De Blaise-William (9), sweet smiling Cynthia
raised her mallet high and gracefully removed Henry's head. Two weeks later, in Henry's nursery, she discovered his treasured
musical box. Eagerly she opened it and as "Old King Cole" began to play, a small spirit-figure appeared. Henry had returned -
but not for long, for as he stood into the room his body began ageing rapidly, leaving a child's mind inside. A lifetime's desires
surged through him. Unfortunately the attempt to persuade Cynthia Jane to fulfill his romantic desire led his nurse to the
nursery to investigate the noise. Instinctively she hurled the musical box at the bearded child, destroying both
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Cup of Tea
A cup of tea, some soda bread,
Would you take some milk and sugar, friend?
Sit here by the fireside
And share with me the daylights end.
You show your photos with just pride
This one of your eldest, a blushing bride
Wasn’t it just yesterday
she was a toddler hard at play?
Here are prints of Bob and Fred
Your two boys, both Ginger heads
Bob’s at University
My Henry used to work with Fred..
.
I had a letter yesterday
From our friend, Mary, at Black Bay
Her son is fighting in Iraq
She counts the days until he’s back
Its’ hard for me now Henry’s gone-
my children grown and moved away.
Filling moments isn’t easy
II'm grateful that you came today.
Remember when we all were young
and danced at céili’s all night long
We gave our parents anxious times
staying out sometimes till dawn..
A cup of tea, some soda bread,
Have it with a bit of jam.
Let the tea steep and grow strong
Night is coming soon anon.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Has the whole world gone mad
It seems like the whole world has gone mad
It is sad so sad
To find a righteous man it cannot be done
You feel as though you just want to run
Has the world gone mad
It is sad so sad
It is hard to trust your own dad
Has whole world gone mad
People look you in the eye
With a straight face they tell you a lie
We should all be glad so glad
Instead we are sad so sad
Trust because there is a flicker of light
Do what is right just do what is right
The economy is tight
We are in for a fight
Just do not loose sight
Do what is right just do what is right
And no matter your plight
Your future will be bright
Henry Brown 031110
poem by Henry Brown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Henry and the Scheme of Things.
It was all part of the scheme
of things Henry thought and
even when the women looked
at him with that odd curiosity
he never failed (at least not in
the beginning) to make a score
usually with one of the females
less prettier than the ones who
left before and after taking her
for the drink and meal routine
and maybe to the cinema he took
her back to his place and poured
her a drink and put on a cool jazz
record on the hifi and set her down
on the sofa and she talked and he
watched her lips move the lipstick
red the kind his mother used to wear
and her nose was kind of pointed and
lifted up at the end and her words
went over his head he wasn't interested
in her philosophy of being or what
she had bought at the last sale he
studied her chin the way it rose and
fell as she spoke the words pouring
out and he said look Honey I know
you like to talk but how about you
and me going to bed? Oh she said I
haven't told you about the time I
went to New York and so Henry lay
back on the sofa closed his eyes
and let her talk a jazz saxophone
filling in behind her voice the record
turning her mouth opening and closing
and he thought of time passing and
remembering his mother's red lipstick
mouth scolding and after boredom had
set in deep he drifted off to sexless sleep.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Steel Sparkles
Steel sparkles
the sound of jackhammers echo off the concrete
men in hard-hats whistle
she is only fourteen.
poem by Michelle Lowrie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dawgs of War
Comes the British bulldog first—solid as a log—
He’s so ugly in repose that he’s a handsome dog;
Full of mild benevolence as his years increase;
Silent as a china dog on the mantelpiece.
Rub his sides and point his nose,
Click your tongue and in he goes,
To the thick of Britain’s foes—
Enemies behind him close—
(
Silence for a while
).
Comes a very different dog—tell him at a glance.
Clipped and trimmed and frilled all round. Dandy dog of France.
(Always was a dandy dog, no matter what his age)
Now his every hair and frill is stiff as wire with rage.
Rub his sides and point his nose,
Click your tongue and in he goes,
While behind him France’s foes
Reel and surge and pack and close.
(
Silence for a while
.)
Next comes Belgium’s market dog—hard to realise.
Go-cart dog and barrow dog—he’s a great surprise.
Dog that never hurt a cat, did no person harm;
Friendly, kindly, round and fat as a “Johnny Darm.”
Rub his sides and point his nose,
Click your tongue and in he goes,
At the flank of Belgium’s foes
Who could not behind him close—
(
Silence for a while
).
Next comes Servia’s mongrel pup—mongrel dawgs can fight;
Up or down, or down or up, whether wrong or right.
He was mad the other day—he is mad today,
Hustling round and raising dust in his backyard way.
Rub his sides and point his nose,
Click your tongue and in he goes,
’Twixt the legs of Servia’s foes,
Biting tails and rearmost toes—
(
Silence for a while
.)
There are various terrier dawgs mixed up in the scrap,
Much too small for us to see, and too mad to yap.
Each one, on his frantic own—heard the row commence—
Tore with tooth and claw a hole in the backyard fence.
No one called, but in they go,
Dogs with many a nameless woe,
Tripping up their common foe—
(
Silence for a while
).
From the snows of Canada, dragging box and bale,
Comes the sledge-dog toiling on, sore-foot from the trail.
He’ll be useful in the trench, when the nose is blue—
Winter dog that knows the French and the English too.
Rub his sides and point his nose,
Click your tongue and in he goes,
At his father’s country’s foes,
And his mother’s country’s foes.
(
Silence for a while
.)
See, in sunny Southern France a dog that runs by sight,
Lean and yellow, sharp of nose, long of leg and light,
Silent and bloodthirsty, too; Distance in his eyes,
Leaping high to gain his view, the Kangaroo Dog flies!
Rub his sides and point his nose,
Click your tongue and up he goes,
Lands amongst his country’s foes—
And his country’s country’s foes;
While they sway and while they close—
(
Silence for a while
).
See across the early snow, far across the plain,
Where the clouds are grey and low and winter comes again;
By the sand-dune and the marsh—and forest black and dumb—
As dusky white as their winter’s night, the Russian wolf-hounds come!
(
Silence for a while
.)
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Case Of The Demon Drink
How many times have we heard
alcohol called the demon drink,
many.many times I suppose,
but there is no such thing as the demon drink.
Now when Jesus turned water into wine,
I’m sure that he didn’t put any demons in it
just to spice it up.
The demon drink as it is called
originated with the Temperance Movement.
Astonishing enough the movement was not started
by a woman, but was formed by a man.
What I am about to tell you
is the untold story about its origins.
It all started in the early 1800’s
with Henry Whittle and his wife Gertrude.
Now Henry was a boozer
who could lay the drink down
with the best of them.
One night he got carried away
on a sea of alcohol.
He went so far that
he wasn’t sure just where he lived.
He left his friends at the bar
and off he staggered.
He found the street where he lived
and staggered down it.
What house did he live at he wasn’t really sure.
All he knew was his Gertrude
always left the door unlocked for him.
He began to try the doors one by one,
when one opened
he quickly stumbled in.
He climbed the stairs as quietly as he could,
shucking his clothes as he went.
Until finally all that he had on
was his red long johns and his boots.
He tiptoed along to the bedroom
where he could hear Gertrude snoring.
Moving inside he climbed into bed.
What Henry didn’t know
he was in the wrong house.
The house belonged to Pierre the lumberjack,
and when he climbed into bed,
he climbed in bed it was with Pierre.
As you don’t cut down trees in the winter,
Pierre had come home.
He was a big man
with a big red Santa Claus beard,
and Henry had crawled into bed with him.
Morning awoke and so did Henry
just as Pierre rolled over.
Henry stared wide-eyed,
confronting the bushy whiskers of Pierre.
Henry’s first thoughts were
Gertrude had grown a beard overnight.
He rolled his eyes around
staring at the bushy faced figure,
then realise it was not Gertrude, but Pierre.
You can imagine his horror
as he slipped out of bed,
gathered up his clothes and ran.
Getting outside he darted up the road
with the back of his red long johns flapping.
People in the street looked around
at Henry doing a moony
and shook their heads.
We can imagine what they were thinking.
Finally, Henry got home
and who was waiting for him,
Gertrude with a rolling pin in hand.
“What floozy were you with last night? ”
She asked. “Don’t you like to me.”
Before Henry could answer,
the rolling pin came down
and Henry saw stars.
As a consequence,
Henry never drank again.
He tried to encourage his friends
to do the same.
The Temperance Movement was born
and Henry’s alcoholic demons
died of dehydration.
After that, he walked around
with a sign saying
DOWN WITH THE DEMON DRINK.
1 April 2008
Happy April Fools Day.
Hoping no one fooled you today.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rickety Chair
On a chair ricketier than himself
He is awake in his slumber
Slumber that comes when days are long
Yet numbered…..
In the relished stupor
The lost years show up as dreams
The remnants announcing
That he’s still alive!
He’s though never sure
He was ever part of them
They must be his imagination,
A myth or a tale he loves to believe.
The wrinkles mock the idea
That there was once a smoothness
The dimming world around his chair
Taunts to say the sparkle was a deceit
Did youth really ever embrace him?
It came to fleet away in a moment
Leaving him on the rickety chair to lament!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Everybody Needs Somebody Sometimes
Everybody Needs Somebody Sometime
Jewel
(This Way)
Mary heard boys talkin' in voices low
Saying she weren't no spring chicken
Like she didn't already know
So she called up Jack from a few years back
She turned him down once in his one-room shack
She said, "Now baby, you don't look that bad"
CHORUS
'Cause everybody needs someone sometime
Everybody needs someone, can't you see
Everybody needs someone sometime
Spivey Leeks was a drip of a man
He looked like a potato shoved into jeans
He recollects, it wasn't that long ago
That he could walk by, make the young girls scream
But he thought he'd just let it all slide, let it all pass
'Cause he thought love was best on the run
He said, "Now baby, it don't seem that fun"
CHORUS
Hey there, Honey Bee
Will you give me... sugar
And if you shake real cute
I might give you some... sugar
I was doing alright on my own but now I just might take you home...sugar
Sister Mary used to be a nun
She thought that she'd retire and have her some fun
Mr. Joe (of the Philadelphia Joes)
Well, he worked in the Post Office all night
He said, "Hey Sweetheart, you know you look alright"
CHORUS
From Alex ([email protected])
song performed by by Jewel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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