Hickory dickory dock,
the mouse ran up the clock;
the clock struck one
and down he run;
hickory dickory dock.
by Mother Goose from Tom Thumb's Pretty Songbook (1744)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Related quotes
Hickory-dickory Dock! The Lonely Mouse Runs up the Clock!
I saw imaginary masks walking along the streets in the Wolf Creek,
So I too wear a mask to hide my tears with a big smile plastic.
An absolute darkness is eating me, all I can feel is heebie-jeebies;
Yuk! I'm sucked deeper and deeper into a hole of screaming meemies!
Gee! I lay in the dark - with fang and claw, a lonely serpent stings;
Hickory-dickory dock! A Lonely Mouse runs up the clock with 24 masks.
A round-backed figure with a cigar is sitting on the narrow bridge
Heaving tortuous sighs, sledging at his own shadow with a grudge;
A lonely man is a lonesome thing - a stone, a stick and a bone!
Ugh! Shedding two tears, I Weep alone and walk alone in a cyclone.
Gee! I lay in the dark - with fang and claw, a lonely serpent stings;
Hickory-dickory dock! A Lonely Mouse runs up the clock with 24 masks.
I bid to meet harlequin on a tree pine and in palanquin a bride,
Ugh! One merry Andrew and a lonely gremlin took me for a ride;
To hide the wounds, I strive alone; if heart breaks, I mourn alone!
As the petals fell upon the stem of thorns, a rose in me died alone.
Gee! I lay in the dark - with fang and claw, a lonely serpent stings;
Hickory-dickory dock! A Lonely Mouse runs up the clock with 24 masks.
A cold wind is swinging branches in dark graveyard without light;
Tut-tut! Obscure clouds are overcasting skies in a mournful sight!
I died a death but stayed alive; in phantom's likeness I survive;
Alive, yet dead, I walk alone in rooms with walls as cold as stone.
Gee! I lay in the dark - with fang and claw, a lonely serpent stings;
Hickory-dickory dock! A Lonely Mouse runs up the clock with 24 masks.
poem by Harindhar Reddy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Irreverent Look At Some Favorite Nursery Rhymes
Hickory dickory dock
I'd run around the block
For just one kiss
Oh my, what bliss!
Hickory dickory dock
JACK BE NIMBLE
Jack be nimble
Jack be quick
Jack jumped over
The candlestick
He burned his butt
The lad's a nut
Now he cannot sit
MARY MARY QUITE CONTRARY
Mary, Mary
Quite contrary
Whats your garden grow?
"A row of tulips,
And one magic rose,
Guarded by a fairy"
HUMPTY DUMPTY
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall;
(Dejected)
After his cell dropped her call
AT&T, with all its repair men,
Couldn't connect Humpty Dumpty again
LITTLE BO PEEP
Little Bo Peep lost all her sheep,
And didn't know where to find them
She left 'em alone,
hoping they'd come home;
But finally gave up at 7: 00 a.m.
JACK N' JILL
Jack n' Jill went up the hill
To fetch a six pack of beer
Jill fell down,
"You tripped me you clown"
"So much for sex later my dear"
ROTMS
View ROTMS writings, images and video at;
rotms.blogspot.com
poem by Ray Lucero
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Cooked Frog (random? lol)
Hickory dickory frog,
the frog jumped on a log,
the storm was frightening,
it was struck by lightning,
and then it fell in the bog.
tehe :)
poem by Amber Leigh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Crazy Kiddie Ryehemmmmmmmmmm
GANGSTA WHISPHER... KIDDIE RYHEMMMMSSS
DEAR NBK MESSAGE
LITTLE KIDS RYHEMMMS
THAT NEVER CHANGE WITH TIMES
IT WASNT A SHAM
THAT MARY HAD A LITTLE LAMB
OR TWINKLE TWINKLE LITTLE STAR
I REALLY WANT A HUMMER CAR
JACK B NIBBLE JACK B QUICK
JACK CAME OUT OF THE CLOSET AND HAD A LITTLE STICK
HICKORY DICKORY DOCK
R KELLY INSISTS HE HAS THE BIGGEST ****
LONDON BRIDGES FALLING DOWN
MAKING THIS POEM LOL LIKE A CLOWN.
poem by kiki KEYKEY amador
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Lost For Words
Wordless I sit
I’ve lost all rhyme and rhythm,
Words I can grasp slip thru
My fingers
to fall around my feet
In jumbled order,
I want to climb
The popular ladder
Blank sheets are all I can offer.
Will the words rise off the floor
Can any expealladotious word
knock on the door?
That’s left ajar for metaphors
That may sneak in.
Nature speaks in its
Own bounty full way,
All the clock can say
Is tick tock
To seal my mental block,
Wait I think its coming back
The end of my block, yes yes,
Hickory Dickery Dock!
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dip Doodle
Jabawokee ding dong slip slap slee
Dipstick paddywhack pee pee googalee gee
Polly wolly sling slang skooey dibbely doo
Wing wong ping pong king kong Cheech 'n Chong hop hip kagagoogoo
Hickory dickory slickory flip flap dip skip to my lou
Flim flam wham blam Sam bam Cunningham whack snack koochie koochie koo
Plus you gotta dip
song performed by by Adam Sandler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hickory Wind
(gram parsons/bob buchanon)
In south carolina
There are many tall pines
I remember the oak tree
That we used to climb
But it makes me feel better
Each time it begins
Callin me home
Hickory wind
I started out younger
At most everything
All the riches and pleasures
What else could life bring
But now when Im lonesome
I always pretend
That Im gettin the feel of
Hickory wind
Its a hard way to find out
That trouble is real
In a far away city
With a far away feel
But it makes me feel better
Each time it begins
Callin me home
Hickory wind
Keeps callin me home
Hickory wind
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wait
I stand
As the time fies by
With the ticking of the clock
Sounding large by the dock
Moments turning into seconds
And
Seconds running into
days, months, years.
Alone I wait
In this harbour
For arrival of
Only god knows
Who, what, why?
I think my heart would understand
My mind need not try.
Anxiously I watch
As each cargo is dismantled
Searching
Only god knows
Who, what, why?
I think my soul would recognize
My eyes are too shy.
Silently I witness
As each ship pulls out anchor
Slowly disappearing from eye.
And
I wait
As the time flies by
With the ticking of the clock
Sounding large by the dock
Moments turning into seconds
And
Seconds running into
days, months, years.
poem by Anjali Kakati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At Six O'clock
I heard the Ave Maria at six o'clock,
Today hear crimes on the radio at six o'clock.
I watched The Little Princess on tv at six o'clock,
Today watch explicit sex at six o’clock.
I was playing catch-up with my friends at six o'clock,
Today lonely children play atari at six o'clock.
I drank hot soup at six o’clock,
Today guys smoke crack at six o'clock.
I prayed to the guardian angel at six o'clock,
Today they kill people at six o'clock.
I studied algebra at six o'clock,
Today are planned crimes at six o'clock.
I was happy at six o'clock,
Today are all scared at six o'clock.
Parody in honor of Llorca
poem by Aschelminto Da Silva
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The Clock Keeps Ticking
I want alone to be
I want to drown in lonely sea
But the clock keeps ticking
I want to stop
I want to forever halt
But the clock keeps beating
I want to run
I want far away from land
But the clock keeps pursuing
I want to hide
I no more want to think of fight
But the clock keeps shouting
I want to rest
I want in dream hibernate
But the clock keeps breaking
I want to sing
I want to strengthen the spring
But the clock keeps shaking
I want to only follow
I no longer want to know
But the clock keeps pumping
I want to hurt
I don’t care if I should hate
But the clock keeps moving
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Then She Bit Me
Artist: fresh prince(will smith)
I was in a club, one friday.
A lovely lady comes walking my way.
She walked up and she said hello.
I said hi, my names joe.
I was lyin, so was she.
She said her name was donna,
But her shirt said marie.
Once you get to know me,
Youll never forget me.
I said why, then she bit me.
Ouch!
That didnt hurt.
Kinda nicked me,
But she ripped my shirt.
At that point I fell asleep.
Woke up at her house,
In the back of a jeep.
A blazer, 89
Tinted windows,
I wish it was mine.
Oh, it is,
But where are my keys?
There they are...in the ignition.
Im at her house.
Its a tepee.
No, a skyscrapper.
No, an igloo.
No, its a shack.
Forget it, Ill go around back.
Its a castle, with a moat
How I get across...boat.
(twilight zone noise)
Shooo...i hate that sound.
I went inside,
Looked right, looked left.
There she is.
Oh, no thats jeff.
Hes invisible.
I went downstairs.
Its a loft.
No, its a dungeon!
There she is, doing areobics.
No, yoga.
No, karate.
*you killed my teacher!!!*
But what a body!
No, she wasnt there.
Im tellin you I saw her.
No, really I saw her.
She was playing checkers.
No, nintendo.
Ok, Im lying.
There she is,
Watching t.v.
All my children.
No, thats cosby.
No, speed racer.
No, thats shaft.
No, thats kimble.
My fault...the t.v.s off.
There she is, what a doll.
No, thats chucky from childs play!
I kissed her,
And she told me this is home...
I entered a dimension called the twilight zone....
Where anything can happen.
Im rough like sandpaper,
Hard like algebra.
You should be glad that I was nice,
And I allowed ya to
Step on stage.
To kick your ryhmes off.
I tried to be nice,
But you mistook that for softness.
Now its goin to hell with your opinion!
What I say goes fom now on,
This is my dominion!
Are there any rappers to step on stage
Cause if you do youll feel the force of my rage,
Im on a rampage!!!!!!!
Syche just hit me.
Jeff wanted to do that,
But I didnt.
I thought that it would make the reccord dumb.
I guess I wasnt wrong.
Jack and jill went up a hill,
To fetch a pail of water.
Jack fell down,
And broke his crown....
Hickory, dickory, dock.
Got to use the bathroom now,
Sike, I was drafted.
song performed by by Will Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Copper Kettle
Get you a copper kettle, get you a copper coil,
Fill it with new-made corn mash and never more youll toil.
Youll just lay there by the juniper while the moon is bright,
Watch them jugs a-filling
In the pale moonlight.
Build you a fire with hickory, hickory, ash and oak,
Dont use no green or rotten wood; theyll get you by the smoke.
Well just lay there by the juniper... etc.
My daddy, he made whiskey; my granddaddy, he did too.
We aint paid no whiskey tax since 1792.
We just lay there by the juniper... etc.
(last line repeated)
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The clock is clicking
The clock is clicking
It is clicking to show just then
A time span of one second
Has become the past
The clock is clicking
Each click means a step
Towards your progress and growth
Optimistic wisdom says
The clock is clicking
Each click means a nail
Onto your coffin
Philosophical wisdom says
The clock is clicking
Each click means the arrival
Of a child in India
Population expert worries
The clock is clicking
Each click means the committal
Of a crime
Police personnel observes
The clock is clicking
Each click means a travel of 2.5 km
In space of the earth's surface
Astromer estimates
The clock is clicking
Each click means a change
In fortune of an individual
Astrologer announces
The clock is clicking
Each click means the admission
Of a heart patient
Health specialist heaves
The clock is clicking
Each click means the drain
Of my battery
The clock cries within
The clock is clicking
Let the clock be clicking
Let any one have his or her inkling
Let us be lively and kicking
Let nothing stop us becoming a king
The clock is clicking
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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His Fear
No one has ever spoken of it,
But there is a way,
He will never hit,
And will start to fade away.
Snakes, rats, cats, stakes,
They will never scare,
But with spoons, brooms, and lakes,
That He, beware.
Everyone grab some silverware,
And get those sweepers and dock,
For we're traveling to His lair,
At five around the clock.
Don't think we won't,
Because we surely will,
He's just a don't,
We'll plumber Him down the hill.
Let's go great people,
We're going to go take over,
From the bottom to the steeple,
When we find Him,
Plow Him Over! ! !
poem by Mystykka Mysterious
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Is This Regret?
I try to put it out,
but it rises like the sea.
I'm full of doubt;
Is this all I'll ever be?
In my dreams it burns like fire,
embedded in my mind, a clock;
am I a true liar?
Like old ships in a rotting dock.
Dead thorns given life by a witch,
coming out of the painful past,
stab me as I sit in disbelief and twitch,
and I know I'll die fast.
Old actions can haunt you,
until they're all you do.
I wish I could let go
and let the water flow.
Can it be all that bad,
even though I'm more than sad?
But my lesson I've learned well;
when will it end? I cannot tell.
poem by Soren Valentine
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Plantation Rock
(words & music by giant - baum - kaye)
Now come along with me
Well do the plantation rock
Its easy as can be
Youll wanna dance round the clock
Well it became a sensation
Rockin on the plantation
Dancin in the fields down to each dock
Now do the plantation rock
So come on bend your knees
Twist with ease side to side
Like the swaying trees keep in rhythm
Now have some pep double step
Shake right there like a rockin chair
And stay with them
Well now youre right at home
Doin the plantation rock
Just do it as you were shown
Youll wanna dance round the clock
Well just like on the plantation
Folks all over the nation
Started rockin on each street and block
Gonna do the plantation rock
Do the plantation rock
Do the plantation rock
Do the plantation rock
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hickory, dickory, deconstructed dock...
and the maker of the case
had given it rudimentary legs
with a little space between them and the floor
and though the case was of finest polished
hickory-wood, he’d not given much valued time
to the cheap wood of the interior shelf
below the shining weight swinging to and fro
on the pendulum..
you don’t often catch a mouse climbing;
but the philosophy of all scavengers large and small
is ‘you never know…’ – the floor is the first place, but
the table top may hold hidden treasure
on its fertile plain; and though this strange
upright monster of furniture didn’t seem
promising to a twitching whiskered nose,
you never know… Though the gentlemice
are the family’s scavengers in chief, the ladymouse
can be desperate with all those little mouths to feed…
we’ll never know whether it was a scrabble
up the rough side of that hickory-wood case, or
cunning deft paws thrust between the links of chain…
she gained the top shelf, where the strange mechanism
moved as discreetly as a mouse, above the ticking cogwheel…
and then, like some mighty god of fearsome justice and revenge, offended at this presumption…this hubris,
to be punished, as Prometheus, as Icarus –
a whirring of the metal monster
shook the case and mouse; then – a sonic boom,
shattering Minnie’s ears – but more, shattering
her tidy universe, at exactly one-o-clock in Green Witch time…
one tiny, traumatised ladymouse –
the childmice fed and put to bed -
snuggled close to her gentlespouse that night:
‘what’s it all about, Mickey? ’ who
yawning, half-awake: ‘Search me, kid…’
she, laying awake that night, filled with more curiosity
than it needs to kill a cat; filled with unmousely thought
(by which that godly evolution works its mysterious metamorphoses…)
wishing ‘even if I were reborn as
the most timid human being, I’d like to know
what it’s all about…’ and too much cheese
tossed her sleep between harsh nightmare dreams…
* *
… she may work in your office, or the firm’s up there
above the factory floor.. that tiny spinster of uncertain age,
large round eyes behind small round wire-rimmed glasses,
eyes which however seldom meet your gaze…
water-cooler gossip, calling her Miss Mouse,
idly wonders where she goes
and what she does, at end of day…
back, we guess, to an ailing widowed mother who
resents her daughter going out to work,
but knows the money must be earned…
then, mother put to bed, she reads (and yes,
Beatrix Potter’s on the shelf above,
next to the clock her father made for her…) :
scared of mice, of course, yet
feeling a strange affinity; remembering
as daughters do, her beloved father
whose clockmaker's posture, back bent,
arms and hands ready for his intricate work,
she has inherited, as she holds her Beatrix Potter
cocoa mug between her delicate,
timid, pink, deft, humble yet
secret-strong, little paws…
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Naughty Claude
When Little Claude was naughty wunst
At dinner-time, an' said
He won't say '_Thank you_' to his Ma,
She maked him go to bed
An' stay two hours an' not git up,--
So when the clock struck Two,
Nen Claude says,--'Thank you, Mr. Clock,
I'm much obleeged to you!'
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Not a clock telling me the truth
oh clock
on and on
you go
belting out
the inaccuracies
universal inacurracies
on and on
you go
announcing
the minute second
you miss
at speed
of my thought
on and on you go
lambasting
a concept
no human
has yet fathom
able to escape from
a mystery
as great as
the whole universe
which too
circles on and on
confusing
the little universe
clock, clock, clock
everywhere
yet not one telling
me the truth
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Nurse's Watch
From 'The Boy's Wonderhorn'
The moon it shines,
My darling whines;
The clock strikes twelve:--God cheer
The sick both far and near.
God knoweth all;
Mousy nibbles in the wall;
The clock strikes one:--like day,
Dreams o'er thy pillow play.
The matin-bell
Wakes the nun in convent cell;
The clock strikes two:--they go
To choir in a row.
The wind it blows,
The cock he crows;
The clock strikes three:--the wagoner
In his straw bed begins to stir.
The steed he paws the floor,
Creaks the stable door;
The clock strikes four:--'tis plain
The coachman sifts his grain.
The swallow's laugh the still air shakes,
The sun awakes;
The clock strikes five:--the traveler must be gone,
He puts his stockings on.
The hen is clacking,
The ducks are quacking;
The clock strikes six:--awake, arise,
Thou lazy hag; come, ope thy eyes.
Quick to the baker's run;
The rolls are done;
The clock strikes seven:--
'Tis time the milk were in the oven.
Put in some butter, do,
And some fine sugar, too;
The clock strikes eight:--
Now bring my baby's porridge straight.
poem by Clemens Maria Brentano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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