In a cage at Saskatchewan Zoo
lived a cranky old cockatoo,
he was talking all day
and had something to say
to the resident kangaroo.
quote by by Herbert Nehrlich
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Related quotes
The Cockatoo and the Kangaroo
The happy cockatoo asked the hopping kangaroo,
“Does everyone in your family have a purse like you? ”
The hopping kangaroo stopped and smiled at the bird,
Saying, “Calling it a pouch would be a better word.”
The happy cockatoo was interested in learning more
And asked, “A pouch? Please tell me what it’s for.
The kangaroo explained that she had become a mother.
This pouch was the home of this new precious other.
Out of the pouch the precious baby popped his head;
Looked at the cockatoo with a funny smile and said,
“You make me very nervous Mr. Happy Cockatoo.
Flying in the air with those arms on top of you.”
Mother kangaroo said, “Don’t be afraid of such things.
Since this cockatoo is a bird, those are called wings.
Just as we kangaroo hop on our legs to get around,
The cockatoo uses its wings to fly above the ground.”
The cockatoo said, “I guess it’s like my nest in the tree
Where I lay and hatch my eggs, then raise my family.”
Your ways seem strange. It’s different from what I see.
Though when I get to know you, you’re a lot like me.
We both have our babies and help them find their way
So they can love and raise their own families another day.
It’s this love we all share that shines brightly as a flame
Whether pouch, feather or wing, we’re all much the same.”
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Leave Those Cranky People Alone
It is best to leave those cranky alone.
It pays to leave those cranky people alone.
Leave those cranky people,
Seeking nothing but an evil.
You,
Just...
Leave those cranky people alone!
When you answer your telephone,
To stop a constant ringing.
Just leave those cranky people alone.
And all you hear is whining,
With a blues heard singing.
Just,
Leave those cranky people alone.
It pays to leave those cranky people alone.
It is best to leave those cranky...
Alone.
Don't condone it.
Leave those people alone.
Don't you try to own it!
Leave those people alone.
Don't,
Condone it.
Leave those people alone.
Don't you try to even own it!
Leave those people alone.
When nothing but complaints,
Drop out of their mouths.
Just,
Leave those cranky people alone.
It is best to leave those cranky alone.
It pays to leave those cranky...
Alone.
Keep your mind freed from heating.
Leave those people alone.
Don't you dare accept their beating.
Leave those people alone.
When you feel a headache brewing,
And you don't know what to do.
Hey..
Leave those cranky people alone!
In the morning when the Sun comes,
Shining on you bright!
Don't you turn away to get it out of your sight,
No!
Leave those cranky people alone.
Yes!
You've got to leave those cranky people alone.
Yes! Yes!
Leave those cranky people alone.
Yes!
You've got to leave those cranky people alone.
Yes! Yes!
Leave those cranky people alone!
In the morning when the Sun comes,
Shining on you bright!
Don't you turn away to get it out of your sight,
No!
Leave those cranky people alone.
Yes!
You've got to leave those cranky people alone.
Yes! Yes!
Leave those cranky people alone.
Yes!
You've got to leave those cranky people alone.
Yes! Yes!
Leave those cranky people alone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Best Of Me (feat. David Foster)
The late George Woolnough
Worked on High Street
And lived on manors
52 years he sat on his veranda
And made his saddles
and if you had questions
About sheep or flowers or dogs
You just ask the saddler
He lived without sin
They\\\'re building a library for him
Time is a traveller
Tenterfield Saddler turn your head
Ride again Jackaroo
Think I see kangaroo up ahead
The son of George Woolnough
Went off and got married
And had a war baby
But something was wrong
And it\\\'s easier to drink than go crazy
And if there were questions about why
The end was so sad
Well George had no answers about why a son
Ever have need of a gun
Time is a traveller
Tenterfield Saddler turn your head
Ride again Jackaroo
Think I see kangaroo up ahead
The grandson of George
Has been all around the world
And lives in no special place
Changed his last name
And he married a girl with an interesting face
He\\\'d almost forgotten them both
Because in the life that he leads
Theres nowhere for George
And his library
Or the son with his gun
To belong
Except in this song
Time is a traveller
Tenterfield Saddler turn your head
Ride again Jackaroo
Think I see kangaroo up ahead
Time is a medler
Tenterfield saddler make your bed
Fly away cockatoo
Down on the ground emu up ahead
Time is a tale teller
Tenterfield saddler turn your head
Ride again jackaroo
Think I see kangaroo up ahead
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tenterfield Saddler (feat. Peter Allen)
The late George Woolnough
Worked on High Street
And lived on manors
52 years he sat on his veranda
And made his saddles
and if you had questions
About sheep or flowers or dogs
You just ask the saddler
He lived without sin
They're building a library for him
Time is a traveller
Tenterfield Saddler turn your head
Ride again Jackaroo
Think I see kangaroo up ahead
The son of George Woolnough
Went off and got married
And had a war baby
But something was wrong
And it's easier to drink than go crazy
And if there were questions about why
The end was so sad
Well George had no answers about why a son
Ever have need of a gun
Time is a traveller
Tenterfield Saddler turn your head
Ride again Jackaroo
Think I see kangaroo up ahead
The grandson of George
Has been all around the world
And lives in no special place
Changed his last name
And he married a girl with an interesting face
He'd almost forgotten them both
Because in the life that he leads
Theres nowhere for George
And his library
Or the son with his gun
To belong
Except in this song
Time is a traveller
Tenterfield Saddler turn your head
Ride again Jackaroo
Think I see kangaroo up ahead
Time is a medler
Tenterfield saddler make your bed
Fly away cockatoo
Down on the ground emu up ahead
Time is a tale teller
Tenterfield saddler turn your head
Ride again jackaroo
Think I see kangaroo up ahead
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Duck and the Kangaroo
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo,
'Good gracious! how you hop!
Over the fields and the water too,
As if you never would stop!
My life is a bore in this nasty pond,
And I long to go out in the world beyond!
I wish I could hop like you!'
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.
'Please give me a ride on your back!'
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.
'I would sit quite still, and say nothing but 'Quack',
The whole of the long day through!
And we'd go to the Dee, and the Jelly Bo Lee,
Over the land, and over the sea;
Please take me a ride! O do!'
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.
Said the Kangaroo to the Duck,
'This requires some little reflection;
Perhaps on the whole it might bring me luck,
And there seems but one objection,
Which is, if you'll let me speak so bold,
Your feet are unpleasantly wet and cold,
And would probably give me the roo-
Matiz!' said the Kangaroo.
Said the Duck, 'As I sat on the rocks,
I have thought over that completely,
And I bought four pairs of worsted socks
Which fit my web-feet neatly.
And to keep out the cold I've bought a cloak,
And every day a cigar I'll smoke,
All to follow my own dear true
Love of a Kangaroo!'
Said the Kangaroo, 'I'm ready!
'All in the moonlight pale;
'But to balance me well, dear Duck, sit steady!
'And quite at the end of my tail!'
So away they went with a hop and a bound,
And they hopped the whole world three times round;
And who so happy - O who,
As the Duck and the Kangaroo?
poem by Edward Lear
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Smile For Me!
Smile for me little cockatoo
Creamy feathers, so beautiful,
Look this way, cute cockatoo,
Let me take shot of you!
Home life is no more natural to us than a cage is natural to a cockatoo.
quote by George Bernard Shaw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Home life as we understand it is no more natural to us than a cage is natural to a cockatoo.
quote by George Bernard Shaw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Red Cockatoo
Sent as a present from Annam
A red cockatoo.
Coloured like the peach-tree blossom,
Speaking with the speech of men.
And they did to it what is always done
To the learned and eloquent.
They took a cage with stout bars
And shut it up inside.
What Does The Donkey Bray About?
What does the donkey bray about?
What does the pig grunt through his snout?
What does the goose mean by a hiss?
Oh, Nurse, if you can tell me this,
I'll give you such a kiss.
The cockatoo calls ‘cockatoo,’
The magpie chatters ‘how d'ye do?’
The jackdaw bids me ‘go away,’
Cuckoo cries ‘cuckoo’ half the day:
What do the others say?
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fundamental Of Liar Chapter CXVIII: I’m Just Talking To Myself
I’m not talking to you
I’m not talking to anyone
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not grumbling
I’m not cursing
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not insane
I’m not in trance
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not mocking
I’m not threatening
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not sharing secret
I’m not hiding something
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not mad
I’m not in rage
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not jealous
I’m not envious
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not afraid
I’m not in pessimism thought
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not whining
I’m not complaining
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not depressed
I’m not in foul mood
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not blaming
I’m not accusing
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not in denial
I’m not in confusion
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not informing
I’m not warning
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not against you
I’m not rebelling
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not help you
I’m not assist you
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not running some plot
I’m not in a mischief plan
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not in great grudge
I’m not in revenge mind
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not suspicious
I’m not curious
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not saying sorry
I’m not saying thank you
I’m just talking to myself
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Stringy-Bark Cockatoo
I'm a broken-hearted miner, who loves his cup to drain,
Which often times has caused me to lie in frost and rain.
Roaming about the country, looking for some work to do,
I got a job of reaping off a stringy-bark cockatoo.
Oh, the stringy-bark cockatoo,
Oh, the stringy-bark cockatoo,
I got a job of reaping off a stringy-bark cockatoo.
Ten bob an acre was his price—with promise of fairish board.
He said his crops were very light, 'twas all he could afford.
He drove me out in a bullock dray, and his piggery met my view.
Oh, the pigs and geese were in the wheat of the stringy-bark cockatoo.
The hut was made of the surface mud, the roof of a reedy thatch.
The doors and windows open flew without a bolt or latch.
The pigs and geese were in the hut, the hen on the table flew,
And she laid an egg in the old tin plate for the stringy-bark cockatoo.
For breakfast we had pollard, boys, it tasted like cobbler's paste.
To help it down we had to eat brown bread with vinegar taste.
The tea was made of the native hops, which out on the ranges grew;
'Twas sweetened with honey bees and wax for the stringy-bark cockatoo.
For dinner we had goanna hash, we thought it mighty hard;
They wouldn't give us butter, so we forced down bread and lard.
Quondong duff, paddy-melon pie, and wallaby Irish stew
We used to eat while reaping for the stringy-bark cockatoo.
When we started to cut the rust and smut was just beginning to shed,
And all we had to sleep on was a dog and sheep-skin bed.
The bugs and fleas tormented me, they made me scratch and screw;
I lost my rest while reaping for the stringy-bark cockatoo.
At night when work was over I'd nurse the youngest child,
And when I'd say a joking word, the mother would laugh and smile.
The old cocky, he grew jealous, and he thumped me black and blue,
And he drove me off without a rap—the stringy-bark cockatoo.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I once saw an albino kangaroo,
Beside a tasmanian devil at the Melbourne zoo!
A koala was there,
While a wombat combed the hair,
Of that snowy white cute kangaroo!
quote by by Robert Edgar Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kangaroo Power
NOW, Yankee inventors can beat a retreat,
And German professors may take a back seat,
For their colours we’re going to lower:
They’ve invented a wonderful plough in the West,
The scientists call it “the latest and best”;
It ploughs, sows, and reaps without taking a rest,
And they drive it by kangaroo power.
Sing hey!
Sing ho!
Then it’s bully for kangaroo power!
O wondrous the changes our children shall meet,
For soon we may travel the principal street
In something far short of an hour.
The traffic shall flow without stoppage or jambs
And sharp little screeches and naughty big damns,
For soon all the hansoms and ’busses and trams
Shall travel by kangaroo power.
Sing hey!
Sing ho!
Then it’s bully for kangaroo power!
Advance, Young Australia, thy banner unfurled,
And jump through the years and astonish the world;
Thou art of all nations the flower.
And Bismarck with envy shall grind his old stumps,
And Yankee inventors shall sit in the dumps,
To see young Australia advancing by jumps,
When driven by kangaroo power.
Sing hey!
Sing ho!
Then it’s bully for kangaroo power!
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cockatoo Twelve Years On '1995
It's been more than twelve years so they tell me since the flames of death passed through
Since the fire that caused destruction burnt it's way through Cockatoo
Lives were lost and houses burnt down blackened miles of countryside
And people wept for lost possessions for their life time work destroyed.
Tears for houses burnt to ashes, tears for lives lost in fierce flame
Tears for trees and paddocks blackened some say 'fire bug '
was to blame
Cockatoo a place of mourning only blackness to be seen
Only smell of smoke and burn out not one sign of Nature's green.
Twelve years on things seem so different Cockatoo looks green today
And who'd believe if you had not known that huge fire had burnt this way
Some still talk of their great losses and the hardships they'd been through
But they recovered built new houses and still live in Cockatoo.
Nature is her own best healer, Nature the true friend of man
Blackness caused by fire and burn out only last for a brief span
Cockatoo is one example what a change twelve years can bring
On green gum tree by the rail track i can hear the shrike thrush sing.
Here in cockatoo this morning fresh and pure the mountain air
Green the trees and green the paddocks green as i've seen anywhere
Twelve years back a blackened wasteland see how green she looks today
Nature is her own best healer and nature always has her way.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kangaroo talks to the Sun
Hey Sun, look Man -
I can move around and hop
and I can run around
even at 70km/h;
I can kangaroo fight and kick for a mate
and I can go all across the land -
and you?
All you can do is to spin and spin
and crawl over the sky
and burn and lose all your hair
and burn and show your temper in solar flares
Hey you, Sun, look Man -
I can stand on three using my tail as well
and jump around like a ping pong
and you, all you can do is
to shine and burn and try and look bright.
Hey you, Sun, look Man –
what can you do?
And the Sun
burned hot and showed its temper
and the continent was parched
and heat waves came with fire and smoke
and the creeks and rivers went dry
and the Kangaroo could find no shade;
and then the kangaroo said, with a grin:
Hey God Sun…
you needn’t take my words so seriously, eh?
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Talkin Talkin
Talking, talking
It doesnt really matter
If you know my name
It doesnt really matter
If you see things the same
As I do
It doesnt even matter
If Im tied and tense
It doesnt even matter
If Im still making sense
Over you
Im just talking, talking
Talkin, talking
Cos Im only talking, talking
Talking, talking
It doesnt matter
What the people
All around you say
Be careful how
You listen
They dont know you
The way that I do
And if you wanna
Talk about it baby
Thats alright
Its better if I say it
Than to sit down
And write it to you
Im just talking, talking
Talkin, talking
Cos Im only talking, talking
It can be that
Youre here with me
When Im standing out
On my own
The words of love
That you gage
When we were alone
It doesnt matter
If you want to
Rock and roll all night
I know youre gonna
Be there when the
Feeling is right
The feeling is right
The feeling is right
Im just talking, talking
Talkin, talking
Im just talking, talking
Talkin, talking
You know Im just
Talking, talking, talking, talking
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Inside A Cage
he is inside a cage
and he does not really want to be inside the cage forever
the cage however is different
it is not locked and no one guards it
he is free to go out and get in anytime
this cage of his choice
he wants to get out of this cage for good
he just can't
he loves to be caged somehow
despite the protest of his reason
he goes out to free himself but only after a while
he gets inside the cage again
in fact he is more inside it and locking himself in it even
he loves what this cage can provide him
his sense of privacy his taste for an enclosure
his genes his sense of wanting to be alone
his beloved prison where he keeps his sins
it is where his ecstasies are hatched and grown
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Animalia Australia
(dedicated to Greenpeace and others who love animals)
Emu
Koala
Dingo
Dugong
Ca ne toad
Green ants
Murray cod
Wolf spider
Spotted Quoll
Red Kangaroo
Grey nurse shark
Ocellaris clownfish
Eastern Banjo Frog
Weedy sea dragon
Saltwater Crocodile
Blue-tongued lizards
Spotted wobbegong
Gang-gang Cockatoo
could you truly love us?
could you surely help us?
could you eagerly care us?
could you patiently save us?
could we live beside human?
(inspired by Camille Saint-Saëns’ The Carnival of The Animals)
poem by Ahmad Shiddiqi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Roo
A large, red kangaroo
hopped into a bar on West 47th St.
and ordered a martini.
The bartender, polishing a
glass, really didn't
feel like being inter-active,
but ever the professional, remarked,
'We don't get many kangaroos
in this place-know what I mean'?
The kangaroo, a little miffed, replied
'No. And at these prices
You're not likely to be getting many more, either'.
poem by Morgan Michaels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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