Ducks On The Wall
After dinner norman becomes depressed.
Star:
Normans office got on my nerves to-day.
Wife:
What do you mean? you are norman!
Star:
(shouts) I am a star!
Wife:
Youre not a star norman. youre
Just a plain ordinary little bloke and
Even if you walked down the street in
A silver suit people still wouldnt
Recognise you. youre dull, ordinary
And uninteresting! youre a drag!
Star rises from his chair and smashes
The dinner plates to the floor.
Star:
I hate this house and I hate you, but
More than anything else I hate those
Ducks!
Wife:
Dont you touch those ducks norman!
They were a present from my mother.
Look, norman, Ive had enough of you
And your ridiculous fantasies. first of
All you wanted to be a painter, then
You wanted to be an astronaut, then
A footballer and now youre playing at
Being a rock singer. if you touch those
Ducks Im leaving!
Ducks on the wall
My babys got the most deplorable taste,
But her biggest mistake
Is hanging over the fireplace.
Shes got ducks, ducks on the wall,
Ducks, ducks, hanging on the wall.
My ladys got a sort of strange fascination,
An obsessive fixation
For cheap decorations
Shes got ducks, ducks on the wall.
Ducks, ducks, hanging on the wall.
Wo-wo-wo I love her so but if she doesnt move the ducks,
I think my mind is gonna go.
Ducks ducks on the wall.
Ducks ducks, hanging on the wall.
I leave the office and I want to relax.
Dont want to stare at a wall
And look at a duck that cant quack.
I love you baby but I cant fall
For those ducks on the wall.
I start to snuggle up and squeeze her so tight.
Then out of the corner of my eye
I see those ducks in flight.
I love you baby but I cant ball
When I see those ducks on the wall.
Wo-wo-wo I can sit through your gossip and your soap opera shows,
But those ducks have got to go.
I love you baby but I cant ball
When I see those ducks on the wall.
And when I went to a cocktail party
With the bores next door,
What was the first thing that I saw?
Ducks, ducks on the wall.
Ducks, ducks hanging on the wall.
My babys got the most deplorable taste,
But her biggest mistake
Is hanging over the fireplace.
Shes got ducks, ducks on the wall,
Ducks, ducks hanging on the wall.
Ill sit and look at all the soap operas with her
Ill play all the panel games and watch all the quiz shows,
But those ducks theyve got to go,
Those ducks are getting up my nose.
If those ducks can fly, well so can i.
And if those ducks have got to stay
Then Im going to fly away.
I love you baby but I cant ball
When I see those ducks on the wall.
Ducks, ducks, ducks on the wall.
Ducks, ducks, ducks on the wall.
Oh those ducks on the wall are beginning to move
Theyre talking to me
Ive got to get away from those ducks.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Ducks love Chocolate!
Ducks love chocolate anytime everyday,
They buy it, eat it, especially in May,
One day the ducks ate it in the class,
Then the teacher hurt them which was a lark.
The next day the pupils sued him as he used a spank,
The money went to the pupils which put it in their bank,
The wanted to spend it but then they thought twice,
Then spent it on chocolate which is very nice.
poem by Dotty Ducks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The surrogacy
Surrogacy has come to stay,
Shedding any shame of qualm.
Delegate women escape delivery.
Hired mothers gather money.
Ducks lay but don’t hatch eggs.
Hens, instead, do the job for ducks.
Ducklings grow attached to ducks,
With their genes and habits intact..
A woman can beget her child
Without pain of pregnancy,
Within or without marriage
And can remain like a virgin.
24.01.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Go Ducks!
Ducks are fast and ducks will win,
Once you're a duck, you're not human again,
You are a football machine,
You learn how to bite back, and get mean!
And once you quack,
You never go back!
poem by Jade Blaydes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If Feeling a Bit Uncomfortable
To tell many of them,
They have been programmed...
To self destruct.
Would be like telling ducks,
To not accept what other ducks do.
If some waddle...
Perfect strutting like a peacock.
Or crow like a rooster.
But whatever is done,
Research identities...
If feeling a bit uncomfortable.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Duck Point Of View
when a man feeds a number of ducks
on the river
he thinks of the money and the meat
and the eggs
setting aside the noisy quacks
and the pestering constant
call for attention,
i wonder how the ducks see the man
his demonstrative care and charity?
did they see him as God?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two Shots
This song was first released on the windsong album. it is the only album it has been released on.
I took two shots, got no ducks, and cold, cold hands
Last night while I was out drinking
Trying to have a good time
The lady with whom I was speaking
Thought I was feeding her some old line
When I spoke of a cold winters morning
A duck blind and a river of gray
The sound of the snow softly falling
When I thought I heard somebody say
I took two shots, got no ducks, and cold, cold hands
I could tell by the gaze of my comrades
That I was the one who had spoke
Their eyes held a message of patience
The thrill of the hunt and of hope
But when I spoke again how they listened
For the wisdom of what I might say
If the good lord had meant us to shoot one
Hed surely send more ducks our way
I took two shots, got no ducks, and cold, cold hands
Well the lady with whom I was speaking
She laughed lightly and she wandered away
My heart, like the snow in my story
Fell silent, Id hoped she would stay
Its so nice to talk to somebody
To find someone whos willing to share
I know that this life is worth living
But sometimes it just isnt fair
I took two shots, got no ducks, and cold, cold hands
I took two shots, got no ducks, and cold, cold hands
Words and music by john denver
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The poor ducks
A duck was given a place among geese
For its brain; fellow ducks beamed with that.
The exalted duck behaved like a goose
And severed ties with its fellow ducks.
Don’t exult some one your tribe
Or religion has been elevated
15.03.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ducks Are Such Fun
Ducks on the pond a delightful sight,
Pretty and beautiful,
this warm summer night.
Moonbeams dancing and playing,
watch the ducks' antics too.
Swimming and diving and
splashing to the beautiful
Full moon in view.
As the morning breaks
breakfast will be served.
They heed my call and
answer, Quack, Quack, Quack.
poem by Florence Weaver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ducks of Equality
Dark brown-black ducks
splish-splash and
pitter-patter on
gently rocking waves
of glee
When a light gray-white duck
tip-taps and
tip-toes
shyly shivering
'May I join? ' quacks he.
The dark brown-black ducks
easily accept
the light gray-white duck
as one of their own
and joyfully they swim and play
In chilly water
'til they're freezing to the bone
And I wonder:
Why can't America be
more like the
dark brown-black ducks
and the
light gray-white duck
floating on the waves
of acceptance and equality?
poem by Charlotte Riddle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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New Friends (Ducks)
I recently went to the small town of Arundel,
And visited the Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust.
I spent a relaxing few hours there strolling around.
If you haven’t already been, then you simply must.
After a while of strolling around,
I sat down to relax on a bench.
There were ducks under and around me,
Who had settled down and seemed quite content.
I sat watching tourists being taken
On a boat trip around the reed beds.
I was happy enough to sit watching the ducks:
Some, as they rested and some as they fed.
Sat there, I reached into my bag for a snack,
And, suddenly, dozens of pairs of eyes were on me.
The ducks dared to venture a little closer,
And made it obvious that they were extremely hungry.
I did feel rather guilty and apologized to them,
But there’s notices saying not to feed the ducks.
So, I very respectfully obeyed the rule,
Although, I suspect they think that rule really sucks!
As I strolled around the extensive site,
I could hear webbed feet following in my wake.
Another give away to the identity of my pursuers,
Was that I heard the quacking sound which ducks make.
But, when I turned round to look at them,
They panicked and quickly ran away.
It was if they were asking me,
‘Are you accusing us of following you? No way! ’
I turned away from them and carried on,
And the sound of slapping feet began again.
It made me smile at the apparent disinterest,
Which my pursuers were badly trying to feign.
I especially liked watching the diving ducks,
Who dive underwater, completely out of sight.
It’s usually many seconds before they reappear,
And bob back up into the daylight.
I enjoyed my trip to the nature reserve,
And I made new friends, albeit only for a while.
But I will always remember their funny antics,
And the fact that they managed to make me smile.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Want a Poem?
You want a poem?
Toss a coin.
Near a pond of wading ducks.
When the ducks begin to waddle out...
Put goggles on,
And thrash about!
And if you find your coin...
No longer will your sentiments,
Be found annoying.
And you will find the experience of this,
Worthy of staging for listeners to hear...
Your schtick,
As it drips from pond drenched lips.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shooting Ducks In Space
Dancing arrests belief in wonderful planets,
Worlds of open enemies control the realm.
My oblivion is like the void so blank,
Agony and ducks contrive more of the void.
Dancing ducks are afloat in certain horizons,
From the eggs, from one side of the die roll.
Let us be friends, and let my enemy live,
Then this void shall reach beyond conception,
And I call this Space, where the looting is on.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Reading Writing Rich
Always after reading
poetry
I fly like ducks for life
poetry is my season for love
a fat girl goes by and
I wonder what it is like
to walk so full
as she must wonder what it is like
to run so empty
(what do our bodies mean?)
I cant tell her: read poetry
you will see a boy with spiky hair
and a gallant stride
and it won’t matter
about full or empty
or if you are tired
or that words in migration
are only emulation:
you will love
simply
that he exists
and that the secret moment
you kissed
has flown like ducks into Poetry
Even Those Paid to Be Biased
People are awakening to realize,
They've been played.
Even those paid to be biased,
To spy on others...
Find they've been set up,
To sit and quack like feathered ducks.
Eyes all over the place,
Are opening wide to see...
Exactly who those victims are.
And recognizing everyday,
The identity of the wolves.
And knowing they've been branded as sheep.
People are awakening to realize,
They've been played.
Even those paid to be biased,
To spy on others...
Find they've been set up,
To sit and quack like feathered ducks.
And the ones who tremble and shake in their limousines,
Find they feel desperate not to be revealed, caught or seen.
Afraid their deceiving and greedy days,
Rapidly lose in snob appeal and popularity.
And in their social circles they sweat, yes!
All of them are suffering in nervous regret!
People are awakening to realize,
They've been played.
Even those paid to be biased,
To spy on others...
Find they've been set up,
To sit and quack like feathered ducks.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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By The Pond In Shade
She sat down with you
by the pond
the summer heat
and dragonflies
skimming across
the water's skin
and the odd duck or so
setting down there
and she said
I want to have kids one day
and be a good mother
and make my kids happy
and meet their needs
and not be a moaning mum
like my own
and you looked at her
taking your eyes off
the ducks and dragonflies
and letting them rest
upon her face
and wondered how Rubens
would catch her
or maybe Renoir
and you said
I'm sure you will some day
and they'll be lucky kids
and maybe you won't moan
or chide too much
and then silence
as you swam over
her features
her eyes
her nose
her rose kissed cheeks
the way she sat
her elbows on her knees
the summer skirt
showing a little thigh
and she said
pointing to the water
we used to swim in there
when we were young
before mother caught us
with that Barber boy
but it was fun
and innocent
but she never saw things
that way
and then she smiled at you
and you said
wish we could go swim there
like that today
while the sun's out
and the dragonflies
are skimming
and the ducks are here
but she just shook her head
and laughed
and ducks flew off
but dragonflies stayed
where you sat with her
by the pond
in cool of shade.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Duck! Don't Stick Your Neck Out
How many quacks does a quack quack quack
before he ducks for fish?
How many ducks does a quack quack duck
before his fish is fished?
How many geese's goose is cooked
because they ate up all the fish?
How many cooks cook geese
before their goose is cooked?
How many fowl fall foul
of fowl hunting cooks?
How many fowls' geese are cooked
before they flew from a foul hunting cook?
How many ducks' goose is cooked
because he didn't duck duck duck
when a fowl cook reached for his neck?
poem by David Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Ballade of the Glutton
I'm greedy by nature, and often in vain
Have lingered too long o'er the succulent hare,
Accepting the jelly, ignoring the pain,
Intent on receiving far more than my share.
I worship the plover's egg, tasty and rare,
And idolize fanciful French fricasses;
But what, darling dainties, with you can compare,
Soused salmon and lamb and young ducks and green peas?
I ask for real turtle, again and again--
Observe the Lord Mayor's John Thomases stare!
For kitchen-recitals to Susan and Jane,
And powdered impertinence, what do I care?
I sit down to eat, and I vow and declare,
I'd honour a dish were it made of stewed bees,
Though loyal to you, should you chance to be there,
Soused salmon and lamb and young ducks and green peas.
I cherish a chef, be he Grecian or Dane;
I even can relish a collop of bear;
I love ev'ry calf--if it boasts a fine brain--
And melt at a pullet, or even a pair.
Though gold's on the table and stately the fare,
I greet a grand entree with almost a sneeze
If you, dearest dainties, are sweet on the air--
Soused salmon and lamb and young ducks and green peas.
L'envoi:
O Redcoats of England, who struggle and dare,
Your glory's a morsel no glutton can please;
My yearning is all for a soft-cushioned chair,
Soused salmon and lamb and young ducks and green peas.
poem by Norman Rowland Gale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sun On The Moon
In line, in line, its all in line
My ducks are all in a row
They do not change, they do not move
They have nowhere to go
Ive been talking to a friend of mine
He says making moneys just a waste of time
Hes a lazy gent, he dont pay no rent
Hes all bent out of shape from living in a tent
Its hard to hear what he has to say
cause everyone around me is just the same way:
More, more, daddy gimme some, gimme some
More, more, daddy gimme some more
Some kind of funny looking money machine it is
Saddest looking people that Ive ever seen
Living in a hole, body and soul
Strung out on the company dole
One for a nickel and two for a dime
Time may be money but your money wont buy time
In line, in line, its all in a line
My ducks are all in a row
They do not shift, they do not move
They have nowhere to go
Me and my flea we were down by the water
Fell in a hole with supermans daughter
Living alone, chewing on a bone
Pretty as homemade sin
She had to be high by the look in her eye
Her hands were wet and her mouth was dry
The sun on the moon, the sun on the moon
The sun on the moon made a mighty nice light
Bow wow wow, honk your horn
In line, in line, its all in line
My ducks are all in a row
They do not change, they do not move
They have nowhere to go
Sometimes Im hungry, I dont know what to do
You can take a taco to katama too
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Animal Kingdom
I've got this great kid who just loves all animals,
Cats, rabbits, dogs and ducks;
She wants to bring everything home
And it's getting rather tough -
If I'd let her
And she had her way,
She'd take in every wild critter
And each lost stray -
I'm running out of
Room and money,
Trying to house and feed
Ducks and bunnies -
I love my child dearly
And don't mean to complain,
But something's got to give
Before the whole farm goes down the drain!
I can't tell anymore
Who is running the place,
Us humans
Or those darn animals, for Pete's sake!
Plus my daughter's getting older now
And busier all the time,
So, it's dear old dad
Who's generally left with those critters to mind -
Looks like I'll just have to put my foot down
And let them all know,
In this little animal-kingdom
It is me who's King of the whole show!
poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Delight
There was that sweet delight
especially when she
had that smile on her
and as you sat
by the pond with her
and she joined her hands
over her knees
and stared ahead
at the ducks out there
and you gazed at her
sideward on
and took in
her fine breasts
and thighs
and she said
ducks are very greasy creatures
to eat unlike rabbits
which are very dry
and you said
I guess they are
but my sisters wouldn't
touch either with a bargepole
and she raised her eyebrows
and sighed and said
guess they would
if they were starving
and you said
I guess people would eat
almost anything
if they were starving
and she turned
towards you
and said
I read somewhere
they ate each other
in the Civil War in Russia
and there was
some sweet delight
when she said that
and the way
her breasts and thighs
captured your eyes
with love of course
with a small dose of lust
mixed in
and that wished
for passion
and dream of sin.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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