The Spinster's Cat
The spinster she was worried
Her cat had gone astray
As through the fields she hurried
In the pleasant month of May.
The name she called the cat was Jack
His eyes were large and brown
He wore a coat of sheeny black
As soft as eiderdown.
She called aloud the name of Jack
And waited for an answer
But the only thing that answered back
Was her neighbour's dog romancer.
She finally found the cat dead on the roadside
Two miles west of the town
Her grief the lady could not hide,
Her face sad tears flowed down.
She looked almost in disbelief
At her cat with mangled head
Till her shock gave way to a revengeful type grief
And here is what she said
Oh blast the driver of that car
May he die a painful death,
He's inflicted in my heart a sorrow scar
By killing my feline pet.
The spinster took away her cat
To bury him near her house
He never more would kill a rat
Nor eat another mouse.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
She's Got The Jack
She gave me the Queen
She gave me the King
She was wheelin' and dealin'
Just doin' her thing
She was holdin' a pair
But I had to try
Her Deuce was wild
But my Ace was high
But how was I to know
That she'd been dealt with before
Said she'd never had a Full House
But I should have known
From the tattoo on her left leg
And the garter on her right
She'd have the card to bring me down
If she played it right
She's got the jack, she's got the jack
She's got the jack, she's got the jack
She's got the jack, she's got the jack
She's got the jack, she's got the jack
She's got the jack, jack, jack, jack, jack, jack, jack
She's got the jack
Poker face was her name
Poker face was her nature
Poker straight was her game
If she knew she could get you
She played 'em fast
And she played 'em hard
She could close her eyes
And feel every card
But how was I to know
That she'd been shuffled before
Said she'd never had a Royal Flush
But I should have known
That all the cards were comin'
From the bottom of the pack
And if I'd known what she was dealin' out
I'd have dealt it back
She's got the jack, she's got the jack
She's got the jack, and who knows what else?
She's got the jack, yeah, yeah
She's got the jack, she's got the jack
She's got the jack, she's got the jack
She's got the jack, jack, jack, jack, jack, jack, jack
She's got the jack
She's got the jack, she's got the jack,
Ooh, It was a bad deal, (Jack)
She gave me the (Jack), hey
She's got the (Jack), she's got the (Jack)
She's got the (Jack), ooh can't you tell
She's got the (Jack, jack, jack, jack, jack, jack, jack, jack)
(She's got the jack, she's got the Jack)
She's got the jack, she's got the Jack
She's got the jack, you never know!
She's got the jack, she's got the jack
She's got the jack
She's got the jack, and it hurts!
(She's got the jack)
She's got the jack, jack, jack, jack, jack, jack, jack
She's got the jack
Aaaaaah!
Oooooh!
Thank you, thank you, thank you people, thank you, thank you
I'm glad you like the show, yes, thank you very much folks.
Goodnight and God bless
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stones from Heaven...
Joy died.
The Spinster sends the
text Message which the Flirt reads aloud
in the Gathering of the Living. It says:
Dear Flirt,
I cannot answer all of your messages.
I am grieving over the death of Joy.
I refrained using words. But this i must tell you
I am in grief, I cry all day,
and sometimes I think that when Joy died earlier
than expected, I think, she must be lucky,
as the Living Them brought the Niche,
decked with assorted flowers, and
garnished with evening prayers.
I wish I had the same death.
I heard this in the Gathering of The Living,
and I joked that I am praying for Spinster's early death
and I will be bringing flowers and some followers
to recite the Usual Prayers.
Flirt says, If the Spinster hears this
There will be another ten months of Non-Speaking Terms.
Well, I admit, there is more plasticity always going on
in the Gathering of the Living.
Meanwhile, to lighten the Moments of Grief
the Bad Guys are playing
Cards, drink their rum, smoke their cigars,
and you say it correctly
They always find Joy in polluting this
Innocent World
Deprive it with Fresh Air and claim that they are
are the proper residents of the
Gathering of the Living.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Knockin' Around
Weary old wife, with the bucket and cow,
‘How’s your son Jack? and where is he now?’
Haggard old eyes that turn to the west—
‘Boys will be boys, and he’s gone with the rest!’
Grief without tears and grief without sound;
‘Somewhere up-country he’s knocking around.’
Knocking around with a vagabond crew,
Does for himself what a mother would do;
Maybe in trouble and maybe hard-up,
Maybe in want of a bite or a sup;
Dead of the fever, or lost in the drought,
Lonely old mother! he’s knocking about.
Wiry old man at the tail of the plough,
‘Heard of Jack lately? and where is he now?’
Pauses a moment his forehead to wipe,
Drops the rope reins while he feels for his pipe,
Scratches his grey head in sorrow or doubt:
‘Somewheers or others he’s knocking about.’
Knocking about on the runs of the West,
Holding his own with the worst and the best
Breaking in horses and risking his neck,
Droving or shearing and making a cheque;
Straight as a sapling—six-foot and sound,
Jack is all right when he’s knocking around
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jack
YOU'RE only a dumb little dog, Jack,
About ten or twelve pounds or so,
And your wits must be all in a fog, Jack,
If you have any wits, I know.
But you've two such soft brown eyes, Jack,
5
And such long grey silky hair;
And, what very much more I prize, Jack,
Such a warm little heart in there.
They say warm hearts are rare, Jack,
And I almost believe that it's true;
10
But there ar'n't many hearts can compare, Jack,
With that staunch little heart in you.
Of course, we that speak and can read, Jack,
Have plenty of friendships sweet;
But, in spite of them all, there's a need, Jack,
15
For a friend like the friend at my feet.
This planet must seem a queer place, Jack,
To your poor little limited mind;
For I fancy you never can trace, Jack,
The reasons for half that you find.
20
You're not bothered with questions like us, Jack,
About forces and morals and laws;
And you never get worried or fuss, Jack,
When you cannot discover a cause.
But you go your own little way, Jack,
25
With a wag of the tail for a friend;
And in spite of our talk, I dare say, Jack,
That we don't do much more in the end.
poem by Frederick George Scott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Big Jack
I know you and you know me
We met many years ago
In the halls ofe some ivy covered university
Where we both used to go
Now we stand outside the denmark hotel
With japanese men in ther business suits
Its midnight youre talking to some frenchman
About who does what to you know who
You want the big jack
You want the sky to crack
You want something thats goin? to give you
The big jack
You want the big jack
Hell we all want that
You want something thats goin? to give you
The big jack
You say you want to go somewhere
Where your ideals were much more than luxuries
And just like some great old painting
You set there so smug
Whith your hands between your knees
You want the big jack
You want the sky to crack
You want something thats goin? to give you
The big jack
You want the big jack
Hell we all want that
You want something thats goin? to give you a
Heart attack
So go back down to that missisippi town
Where you come from
Have a big time tonight
I can still see you in your fathers coat
On the delta shore
That he once owned
I want to be your fathers coat
I want you girl to matty me
I want the big jack
I want the sky to crack
I want something thats goin? to give me
The big jack
I want the big jack
Hell we all want that
I want something thats goin? to give me a
Heart attack
I want the big jack
Yeah we all want that
We want something thats going to give us the big jack
I want the big jack
I want the sky to crack
I want something thats going to give me the big jack
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Camp Within the West
O DID you see a troop go by
Way-weary and oppressed,
Dead kisses on the drooping lip
And a dead heart in the breast?
Yea, I have seen them one by one
Way-weary and oppressed,
And when I asked them, ‘Whither speed?’
They answered, ‘To the West!’
And were they pale as pale could be—
Death-pale with haunted eyes,
And did you see the hot white dust
Range round their feet and rise?
Oh, they were pale as pale could be,
And pale as an embered leaf;
The hot white dust had risen, but
They laid it with their grief.
Did no one say the way is long,
And crave a little rest?
Oh no, they said, ‘The night is nigh,
Our camp is in the West!’
And did pain pierce their feet, as though
The way with thorns were set,
And were they visited by strange
Dark angels of regret?
Oh yea, and some were mute as death,
Though shot by many a dart,
With them the salt of inward tears
Went stinging through the heart.
And how are these wayfarers called,
And whither do they wend?
The Weary-Hearted—and their road
At sunset hath and end.
Shed tears for them…Nay, nay, no tears!
They yearn for endless rest;
Perhaps large stars will burn above
Their camp within the West.
poem by Roderic Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blackjack Davey
1. black jack davey come a-riden on back,
A-whistlin loud and merry.
Made the woods around him ring,
And he charmed the heart of a lady,
Charmed the heart of a lady.
2. how old are you, my pretty little miss,
How old are you, my honey
She answered to him with a lovin smile
Ill be sixteen come sunday,
Be sixteen come sunday.
3. come and go with me, my pretty little miss,
Come and go with me, my honey,
Take you where the grass grows green,
You never will want for money
You never will want for money
4. pull off, pull off them high-heeled shoes
All made of spanish leather.
Get behind me on my horse
And well ride off together,
Well both go off together.
5. well, she pulled off them high-heeled shoes
Made of spanish leather.
Got behind him on his horse
And they rode off together.
They rode off together.
6. at night the boss came home
Inquiring about this lady.
The servant spoke before she thought,
Shes been with black jack dave,
Rode off with black jack davey.
7. well, saddle for me my coal black stud,
Hes speedier than the gray.
I rode all day and Ill ride all night,
And Ill overtake my lady.
Ill bring back my lady.
8. well, he rode all night till the broad daylight,
Till he came to a river ragin,
And there he spied his darlin bride
In the arms of black jack davey.
Wrapped up with black jack davey.
9. pull off, pull off them long blue gloves
All made of the finest leather.
Give to me your lily-white hand
And well both go home together.
Well both go home together.
10. well, she pulled off them long blue gloves
All made of the finest leather.
Gave to him her lily-white hand
And said good-bye forever.
Bid farewell forever.
11. would you forsake your house and home,
Would you forsake your baby?
Would you forsake your husband, too,
To go with black jack davey.
Rode off with black jack davey?
12. well, Ill forsake my house and home,
And Ill forsake my baby.
Ill forsake my husband, too,
For the love of black jack davey.
Ride off with black jack davey.
13. last night I slept in a feather bed
Between my husband and baby.
Tonight I lay on the river banks
In the arms of black jack davey,
Love my black jack davey.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black Jack Davey
Black jack davey come running all night
Whistling loud and merry
he pray the bells around him ring, and shone the heart of a lady,
Shone the heart of a lady
How old are you my pretty little miss, how old are you my honey
She answered him with a loving smile: I'll be sixteen on sunday
Said I'll be sixteen on sunday
Come and go with me my pretty little miss, come and go with me my honey
I'll take you where the grass grows green, and you never will want for money
said you never will want for money
HOI
(guitars)
Pull off pull off your long blue gloves made of spanish leather
give to me your lilly-white hand, and we'll ride on together
Said we'll both ride on together
Well she pulled off her long blue gloves made of spanish leather
And gave to him her lilly-white hand and bid farewell forever
And they both rode off together
Well late last night the boss came home, enquiring bout his lady
The servant spoke: before she'd gone, she'd been with black jack davey
Rode off with black jack davey
Come on come on my coal black horse, your speedier than the grey
We'll ride all day and ride all night and we'll overtake my lady
I'll overtake my lady
Well they rode all night till the broad daylight, when they came to a river raging......
(slower) And there he spied his darling bride, in the arms of black jack davey
Wrapped up with black jack davey
(guitars)
Would you forsake your house and home, would you forsake your baby?
would you forsake your husband too, to go with black jack davey
Run off with blacck jack davey
(sort of shouting) yes i'll forsake my house and home, yes i'll forsake my baby
And i'll forsake my husband too, to go with black jack davey
I'm in love with black jack davey
Oooh (quietly)
GUITARS
Last night i slept on a feather bed, between my husband and baby
And now I lay on the river bed, in the arms of black jack davey
I'm in love with black jack davey.....
END!
song performed by by White Stripes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gilderoy
THE smith who made the manacles,
With bar and bolt, and link and ring,
Sang out above his hearty blows
'I can't have grief for everything.'
As Roger by the rope-walk went
The bramble-bird cheeped up to sing;
He cut the wanted coil, and said
'I can't have grief for everything.'
The lad who came to Ladder Lane,
And saw his hemp-cravat a-string,
'Jack's doom 's Jill's dule,' he said, 'but then,
I can't have grief for everything.'
And I who carried bag and wig,
Looked up and saw him turn and swing;
The dog he gave fixed eyes on me
Can I have grief for everything?
poem by Padraic Colum
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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x13-The Petals Shall Fall
(I suggest you read first the 'COLD WATERS'.2nd poem of DEAD PETALS)
-Dylan Blayne-
My heart pained the very first moment
that I looked into your eyes.
How I want to take that sorrow away,
to turn it to the skies…
why, the moment I saw you,
how I long to take your heart.
Though I rushed to pluck petals
to wipe away your fears…
you’re gone as though you’re drowned with your tears.
I knocked at your door,
But there was no answer.
I entered as a strange feeling
rushed through me deeper.
I called after you but all I heard
was rushing waters.
And so I looked for it and found you
Dead with tears.
I never had the time to question why…
or wipe your tears with petals by and by.
I saw the words you wrote before your bed…
‘the petals shall fall and the waters shall flow’,
how I wish I’d better be dead!
Blood flowed like water with your tears;
I wonder if I could carry this memory
for all the coming years.
I think you’re right, the petals shall fall…
and I guess I’m too late
to have you after all.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grief
I saw grief drinking a cup of sorrow;
I called out,
“It tastes sweet, does it not? ”
Grief answered;
“Oh, you’ve caught me and ruined my business,
How can I sell sorrow, when you know it’s a blessing? ”
(Inspired by Rumi)
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jack U Off
If ure looking for somewhere to go
Thought Id take u to a movie show
Sittin in the back and Ill jack u off
I cant give u everything u want
But I can take u to a restaurant
If ure not hungry
Ill jack u off
If your man aint no good
Come on over to my neighborhood
We can jump in the sack and Ill jack u off
If ure tired of the masturbater
Little girl, we can go on a date
And if u like, Ill jack u off
Ill jack u off, jack u off
Ill jack u off, jack u off
Ill jack u off
I only do it for a worthy cause
Viriginity or menopause
Ull have an instant heart attack if I jack u off
If u really really want to be a star
We gotta do it in your mommas car
Naked in a cadillac, Ill jack u off
If we cant find no place to go
Girl, Ill take u to a movie show, we can sit in the back
And Ill jack u off
Ill jack u off, jack u off
Ill jack u off, jack u off
Ill jack u off, yeah
Yeah, yeah, Ill jack u off
Alright say, well put some funk on here
Ill jack u off
If u aint chicken baby, come here
If ure good Ill even let u steer
As a matter of fact, u can jack me off
Yeah, thats right
Ill jack u off, yeah
Ill jack u off
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Talbragar
Jack Denver died on Talbragar when Christmas Eve began,
And there was sorrow round the place, for Denver was a man;
Jack Denver’s wife bowed down her head—her daughter’s grief was wild,
And big Ben Duggan by the bed stood sobbing like a child.
But big Ben Duggan saddled up, and galloped fast and far,
To raise the biggest funeral ever seen on Talbragar.
By station home
And shearing shed
Ben Duggan cried, “Jack Denver’s dead!
Roll up at Talbragar!”
He borrowed horses here and there, and rode all Christmas Eve,
And scarcely paused a moment’s time the mournful news to leave;
He rode by lonely huts and farms, until the day was done
And then he turned his horse’s head and made for Ross’s Run.
No Bushman in a single day had ridden half so far
Since Johnson brought the doctor to his wife at Talbragar.
By diggers’ camps
Ben Duggan sped—
At each he cried, “Jack Denver’s dead!
Roll up at Talbragar!”
That night he passed the humpies of the splitters on the ridge,
And roused the bullock-drivers camped at Belinfante’s Bridge;
And as he climbed the ridge again the moon shone on the rise;
The soft white moonbeams glistened in the tears that filled his eyes;
He dashed the rebel drops away—for blinding things they are—
But ’twas his best and truest friend who died on Talbragar.
At Blackman’s Run
Before the dawn,
Ben Duggan cried, “Jack Denver’s gone!
Roll up at Talbragar!”
At all the shanties round the place they‘d beard his horse’s tramp,
He took the track to Wilson’s Luck, and told the diggers’ camp;
But in the gorge by Deadman’s Gap the mountain shades were black,
And there a newly-fallen tree was lying on the track—
He saw too late, and then he heard the swift hoof ’s sudden jar,
And big Ben Duggan ne’er again rode home to Talbragar.
“The wretch is drunk,
And Denver’s dead—
A burning shame!” the people said
Next day at Talbragar.
For thirty miles round Talbragar the boys rolled up in strength,
And Denver had a funeral a good long mile in length;
Round Denver’s grave that Christmas day rough Bushmen’s eyes were dim—
The Western Bushmen knew the way to bury dead like him;
But some returning homeward found, by light of moon and star,
Ben Duggan dying in the rocks, ten miles from Talbragar.
They knelt around.
He raised his head
And faintly gasped, “Jack Denver’s dead,
Roll up at Talbragar!”
But one short hour before he died he woke and understood;
They told him, when he asked them, that the funeral was good;
And then there came into his eyes a sad and softened light.
He said. “Poor Denver’s wife and kids—you’ll see that they’re all right?”
And still the careless Bushmen tell by tent and shanty bar
How Duggan raised a funeral years back on Talbragar.
And far and wide
When Duggan died.
The bushmen of the western side
Rode in to Talbragar.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jack Dunn of Nevertire
It chanced upon the very day we'd got the shearing done,
A buggy brought a stranger to the West-o'-Sunday Run;
He had a round and jolly face, and he was sleek and stout,
He drove right up between the huts and called the super out.
We chaps were smoking after tea, and heard the swell enquire
For one as travelled by the name of `Dunn of Nevertire'.
Jack Dunn of Nevertire,
Poor Dunn of Nevertire;
There wasn't one of us but knew Jack Dunn of Nevertire.
`Jack Dunn of Nevertire,' he said; `I was a mate of his;
And now it's twenty years since I set eyes upon his phiz.
There is no whiter man than Jack -- no straighter south the line,
There is no hand in all the land I'd sooner grip in mine;
To help a mate in trouble Jack would go through flood and fire.
Great Scott! and don't you know the name of Dunn of Nevertire?
Big Dunn of Nevertire,
Long Jack from Nevertire;
He stuck to me through thick and thin, Jack Dunn of Nevertire.
`I did a wild and foolish thing while Jack and I were mates,
And I disgraced my guv'nor's name, an' wished to try the States.
My lamps were turned to Yankee Land, for I'd some people there,
And I was right when someone sent the money for my fare;
I thought 'twas Dad until I took the trouble to enquire,
And found that he who sent the stuff was Dunn of Nevertire,
Jack Dunn of Nevertire,
Soft Dunn of Nevertire;
He'd won some money on a race -- Jack Dunn of Nevertire.
`Now I've returned, by Liverpool, a swell of Yankee brand,
To reckon, guess, and kalkilate, 'n' wake my native land;
There is no better land, I swear, in all the wide world round --
I smelt the bush a month before we touched King George's Sound!
And now I've come to settle down, the top of my desire
Is just to meet a mate o' mine called `Dunn of Nevertire'.
Was raised at Nevertire --
The town of Nevertire;
He humped his bluey by the name of `Dunn of Nevertire'.
`I've heard he's poor, and if he is, a proud old fool is he;
But, spite of that, I'll find a way to fix the old gum-tree.
I've bought a station in the North -- the best that could be had;
I want a man to pick the stock -- I want a super bad;
I want no bully-brute to boss -- no crawling, sneaking liar --
My station super's name shall be `Jack Dunn of Nevertire'!
Straight Dunn of Nevertire,
Old Dunn of Nevertire;
I guess he's known up Queensland way -- Jack Dunn of Nevertire.'
The super said, while to his face a strange expression came:
`I THINK I've seen the man you want, I THINK I know the name;
Had he a jolly kind of face, a free and careless way,
Gray eyes that always seem'd to smile, and hair just turning gray --
Clean-shaved, except a light moustache, long-limbed, an' tough as wire?'
`THAT'S HIM! THAT'S DUNN!' the stranger roared, `Jack Dunn of Nevertire!
John Dunn of Nevertire,
Jack D. from Nevertire,
They said I'd find him here, the cuss! -- Jack Dunn of Nevertire.
`I'd know his walk,' the stranger cried, `though sobered, I'll allow.'
`I doubt it much,' the boss replied, `he don't walk that way now.'
`Perhaps he don't!' the stranger said, `for years were hard on Jack;
But, if he were a mile away, I swear I'd know his back.'
`I doubt it much,' the super said, and sadly puffed his briar,
`I guess he wears a pair of wings -- Jack Dunn of Nevertire;
Jack Dunn of Nevertire,
Brave Dunn of Nevertire,
He caught a fever nursing me, Jack Dunn of Nevertire.'
We took the stranger round to where a gum-tree stood alone,
And in the grass beside the trunk he saw a granite stone;
The names of Dunn and Nevertire were plainly written there --
`I'm all broke up,' the stranger said, in sorrow and despair,
`I guess he has a wider run, the man that I require;
He's got a river-frontage now, Jack Dunn of Nevertire;
Straight Dunn of Nevertire,
White Jack from Nevertire,
I guess Saint Peter knew the name of `Dunn of Nevertire'.'
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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West End Girls
(....forever)
Sometimes youre better off dead
Theres gun in your hand and its pointing at your head
You think youre mad, too unstable
Kicking in chairs and knocking down tables
In a restaurant in a west end town
Call the police, theres a madman around
Running down underground to a dive bar
In a west end town
In a west end town, a dead end world
The east end boys and west end girls
In a west end town, a dead end world
The east end boys and west end girls
West end girls
Too many shadows, whispering voices
Faces on posters, too many choices
If, when, why, what?
How much have you got?
Have you got it, do you get it, if so, how often?
And which do you choose, a hard or soft option?
(how much do you need? )
In a west end town, a dead end world
The east end boys and west end girls
In a west end town, a dead end world
The east end boys and west end girls
West end girls
West end girls
(how much do you need? )
In a west end town, a dead end world
The east end boys and west end girls
Oooh west end town, a dead end world
East end boys, west end girls
West end girls
Youve got a heart of glass or a heart of stone
Just you wait till I get you home
Weve got no future, weve got no past
Here today, built to last
In every city, in every nation
From lake geneva to the finland station
(how far have you been? )
In a west end town, a dead end world
The east end boys and west end girls
A west end town, a dead end world
East end boys, west end girls
West end girls
West end girls
West end girls
(how far have you been? )
Girls
East end boys
And west end girls
And west end girls
And west end girls
East end boys
The west end girls
The west end boys
And west end girls
The west end girls
The west end boys
The west end girls
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Over The Falls
They broke out in laughter again,
His lip beaded with sweat as they strapped him in,
And he stood by and waited to be called.
The talk was of times that had gone by
And the quantity and quality of women they lie.
His eyes welled with wet and his mouth had gone dry.
As he stood by and waited to be called.
He stood by and waited to be called.
He stood by and waited like the others before
For his turn to go over the falls.
He got up and tried it again.
For lack of persistence is surely a sin.
As he stood by and waited to be called,
He looked to the lightning with glee
And admired his vessel for its symmetry,
Feeling twelve units shy of a bachelors degree.
As he stood by and waited to be called.
He stood by and waited to be called.
He stood by and waited like the others before
For his turn to go over the falls.
song performed by by Primus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Case Of The Gipsy's Son
The judge he jailed the gipsy's son
For the trivial thing which he had done
He had stolen from a farmer a second hand tweed coat
Which was valued at a ten pound note.
The young man's father Gipsy Jack
Had already given the coat back
The Gipsy lad looked scared and pale
When his lordship said 'three months in jail'.
This was the young man's first offence
Said Gipsy Jack it doesn't make sense
Your lordship please for fair play sake
My son at least deserves one break.
The father for his son did plead
But the judge he gave his plea no heed
He said this is a lawful Land
And the sentence I passed it must stand
But Gipsy Jack had more to say
Said he my son got no fair play
'You are nothing but a stupid prig
Protected by a silly wig'
Gipsy Jack was held for contempt
And twenty days in jail he spent
And he paid the price for finding out
That if you are poor in court house keep shut mouth.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jack Cornstalk
Jack Cornstalk as a drover born,
Jack Cornstalk gaunt and tan,
Jack Cornstalk leaves his love forlorn,
Jack Cornstalk man to man.
Jack Cornstalk as a careless scamp,
With day-dreams in his head;
Jack Cornstalk on his lone, wide camp,
Jack Cornstalk with his dead,
Jack Cornstalk at his best and worst.
The day dawns on his brow,
Jack Cornstalk’s country must be first –
Advance Australia now!
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Twenty Five To Midnight
Train I ride don't be slow
If your whistle can blow
Fifteen miles down the track
Tell them I'm coming back
Counting poles counting sheep
Don't be slow I won't weep
If your wheels on the line
Were to put me on time
Just a year to the day
Since I went upon my way
To seek my fortune and fame
Be a star change my name
And that's it more or less
Til this midnight express
I know I can't be late
Cause she said she won't wait
She'll just go marry Jack
So there's no turning back
And it's 25 to midnight and fifteen miles of track
Band I had got a break
Just one chance we had to take
Told my girl I'd be back
Left her with my friend Jack
New York City for a spell
Things didn't turn out so well
Every dive that we played
We were lucky we got paid
Mr Train driver please
If your speed you increase
Every cent I have now
Will be yours this I vow
And that's it more or less
Til this midnight express
I know I can't be late
Cause she said she won't wait
She'll just go marry Jack
So there's no turning back
And it's 25 to midnight and fifteen miles of track
We called ourselves the Latino Lovers
Hawaiian shirts and top forty covers
I didn't think I could sink this low
When drugs and booze ate all my dough
This isn't how it was meant to be
There's no such thing as a meal that's free
If I was ever to get out alive
I have to get home on time
Train I ride don't be slow
If your whistle can blow
Fifteen miles down the track
Tell them I'm coming back
And that's it more or less
Til this midnight express
I know I can't be late
Cause she said she won't wait
She'll just go marry Jack
So there's no turning back
And it's 25 to midnight and fifteen miles of track
And it's 25 to midnight and fifteen miles of track
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Snake
snakes, scaly, slippery, a cold lump morbidly crawling
through the dark tunnel of memory
some creatures are born cursed
they are spat, and trumpled on
so that the nerves slithered when i actually
came face to face with one at two or three
the black six inch long they called two headed thing
propped my interest further
you dont get to see one often
i could not remember whether it had ended up
under somebody's stick or a parang
but thanks to the snake it helped me
hold onto a figment otherwise
would have been lost on the tail of time
an inert lump resting on cold yellow soil
guilty heavy of heaven and earth
all ready to take the cold and
inhumane blows of the world
once in while a little one would surface
below the neighbour's house,
a short floral ribbon it looked like jewels
on undeserving hands, bothersome foul mud
the impatient neighbour never let it up
coming running with his parang
crashing or splitting it into two
wonder how such a small creature
can elicit such a anger in a big fat farmer
an eerie feel for them led me to
kill one with a stick and to this
day i am struck with the thought
of what karma i have to face
little wriggly creature that
would have done no harm
but then it is a snake
the road between two padi fields
become a killing field during the harvesting season
a dead chamber as little snakes
make their way to to the other side
for better pasture ending up under wheels
they lie each morning crushed, bruised
they become nothing but a charred
brittle piece of leather a few days later
some snakes are aphrodisiac
and I usually wonder whether these
can be Chinese medicine
to heal whatever ailment you
have such as impotence
one morning a flash flood brought
the fate of a little cobra under brother's bed,
the cat agitated had sounded the alarm
with her irritating meows
the cat we then called brother's saviour
we smelt things foul and like the feline came face to face with it
someone screamed cobra as its head had reared
and its neck spanned
the poor little lifeless rope then flew head and tail
through the air, into the flash flood
after it had gone under the stick
as is always with snake it slithers back
to my memory lane each time
somebody mentions snake
a lane of sweet sour sad feeling
of heaven and earth about snakes
of why God even bothers to create it
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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