Verse and Worse; for Better or for Verse
*
" I wish that there were some wonderful place
Called the land of Beginning Again,
Where all our mistakes and all our heartaches
And all our poor selfish grief
Could be dropped like a shabby old coat at the door,
And never put it on again."
Luisa Fletcher.
*
"...
We have loved and lived together
Through many changing years,
We have shared each other's gladness
And wept each other's tears.
And let us hope the future
As the past has been will be:
I will share with thee my sorrows,
And then thy joys with me.
Charles Jeffreys.
*
A word of encouragement.
O what a tangled web we weave
When first we practice to deceive.
But when we've practiced quite awhile
How vastly we improve our style.
J.R.Poe.
*
When you are near.
" when you're away, I'm restless, lonely,
Wretched, bored, dejected; only
Here's the rub, my darling dear,
I feel the same when you are near."
Samuel Hoffenstein.
*
The Author's Epitaph.
I suffered so much from printer's errors
That death for me can hold no terrors;
I'll bet this stone has been misdated,
I wish to God I'd been cremated.
anon.
*
I burned my candle at both ends,
And now have neither foes nor friends;
For all the lovely light begotten,
I'm paying now in feeling rotten.
Samuel Hoffenstein.
*
I loved thee, beautiful and kind,
And plighted an eternal vow;
So alter'd are thy face and mind,
'Twere perjury to love thee now.
Robert Earl Nugent.
*
Just behind the Battle Mother,
I am slinking back to you;
For the cannons rattle, Mother,
Makes me feel uncommon blue.
I am not so fond of dying
As my comrades seem to be,
So from missiles round me flying
I am mizzling back to thee,
Chorus:
Mother don't you hear the hissing
Of the bulletses so plain?
I may be counted with the missing
But NEVER, NEVER with the slain.
anon.
*
I Am My Own Grandpa
by Moe Jaffe and Dwight Latham
Many, many years ago
when I was twenty-three,
I got married to a widow
who was a pretty as could be.
This widow had a grown-up daughter
who had hair of red.
My father fell in love with her,
and soon the two were wed.
This made my dad my son-in-law
and change my very life.
My daughter was my mother,
for she was my father's wife.
To complicate the matters worse,
although it brought me joy,
I soon became the father
of a bouncing baby boy.
My little baby then became
a brother-in-law to dad.
And so became by uncle,
though it made me very sad.
For if he was my uncle,
then that also made him brother
To the widow's grown up daughter who,
of course, was my step-mother
Father's wife then had a son,
who kept them on the run.
And he became my grandson,
for he was my daughter's son.
My wife is now my mother's mother
and it makes me blue,
Because, although she is my wife,
she's my grandma too.
If my wife is my grandmother,
then I am her grandchild
And every time I think of it,
it simply drives me wild.
For now I have become
the strangest case you ever saw,
As the husband of my grandmother,
I am my own grandpa!
posted by K.B.Chandra Raj at 9:35 PM 0 Comments
Sunday, February 28, 2010
VERSE AND WORSE
Dust If You Must
Anonymous
Dust if you must, but wouldn't it be better
To paint a picture, or write a letter,
Bake a cake, or plant a seed;
Ponder the difference between want and need?
Dust if you must, but there's not much time,
With rivers to swim, and mountains to climb;
Music to hear, and books to read;
Friends to cherish, and life to lead.
Dust if you must, but the world's out there
With the sun in your eyes, and the wind in your hair;
A flutter of snow, a shower of rain,
This day will not come around again.
Dust if you must, but bear in mind,
Old age will come and it's not kind.
And when you go (and go you must)
You, yourself, will make more dust.
posted by K.B.Chandra Raj at 11:48 PM 0 Comments
*
When I'm An Old Lady
by Joanne Bailey Baxter
When I'm an old lady, I'll live with each kid,
And bring so much happiness just as they did.
I want to pay back all the joy they've provided.
Returning each deed! Oh, they'll be so excited!
(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids...)
I'll write on the walls with reds, whites, and blues,
And bounce on the furniture.....wearing my shoes.
I'll drink from the carton and then leave it out.
I'll stuff all the toilets and oh, how they'll shout!
(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids...)
When they're on the phone and just out of reach,
I'll get into things like sugar and bleach.
Oh, they'll snap their fingers and then shake their head,
And when that is done, I'll hide under the bed.
(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids...)
When they cook dinner and call me to eat,
I'll not eat my green beans or salad or meat.
I'll gag on my okra, spill milk on the table,
And when they get angry...I'll run....if I'm able!
(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids...)
I'll sit close to the TV., through the channels I'll click
I'll cross both eyes just to see if they stick.
I'll take off my socks and throw one away,
And play in the mud 'til the end of the day!
(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids...)
And later in bed, I'll lay back and sigh,
I'll thank God in prayer and then close my eyes.
My kids will look down with a smile slowly creeping,
And say with a groan, "She's so sweet when she's sleeping!"
Posted by K.B.Chandra Raj at 7:13 AM
*
WRONG CLASS
Class Reunion
by Jim C. Carpenter
I read an ad in the paper one day
In the Dallas Morning News
All about my class reunion in
A town near Santa Cruz
I tried to decide if I should go
To meet my friends and peers
And see how classmates from the past
Had aged in all these years
I finally resolved that I should go
And see what I could see
And meet my friends from the senior class
Of nineteen fifty-three
I rented a tux and a black toupee
Then brushed my shoes and hair
I trimmed my mustache and my beard
And changed my under wear
I emptied the bottle of after shave
And rented a limousine
I brushed my teeth with Ultra-Bright
Then gargled some listerine
I soon arrived in splendid form
With a flower on my chest
Sporting a rented diamond ring
And smelling my very best
Now I was dressed in the finest garb
Like a monarch at a feast
When I discovered that no one there
Seemed familiar in the least
Well not a soul remembered me
And my heart dropped to the floor
When I remembered that I was in
The class of fifty-four
*
Have you seen a sheet on a river bed?
Or a single hair from a hammer's head?
Has the foot of a mountain any toes?
And is there a pair of garden hose?
Does the needle ever wink its eye?
Why doesn't the wing of a building fly?
Can you tickle the ribs of a parasol?
Or open the trunk of a tree at all?
Are the teeth of a rake ever going to bite?
Have the hands of a clock any left or right?
Can the garden plot be deep and dark?
And what is the sound of the birch's bark?
anon.
Get Up and Go
Peter Seeger.
How do I know my youth has been spent:
Because my get-up and go, got up and went.
But in spite of all that, I am able to grin
When I think where my get-up- and go has been.
Old age is golden, I've heard it said,
But sometimes I wonder as I go to bed.
My ears are in a drawer, my teeth in a cup,
My eyes on a table until I wake up.
When I was young my slippers were red
I could kick my heels right over my head.
When I grew older my slippers were blue
But I could still dance the whole night thru.
Now that I am old my slippers are black
I walk to the corner and puff my way back.
The reason I know my youth is spent
My get-up-and-go got up and went.
I get up each morning dust off my wits
Pick up the paper and read the 'orbits".
If my name is missing, I know I'm not dead
So I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed.
*
When I am an old man I shall do as I please.
I'll not cover my mouth when I cough or sneeze.
I'll put on a shirt that spent a week on the floor.
I'll eat five or six cookies and go back for more.
I'll burp and I'll belch, pass gas with a wink.
I'll eat from a dish that spent weeks in the sink.
My favorite foods will come from a can.
I'll eat every hour, That's my plan.
I'll forget my zipper, now that's not so bad.
For all you know it might start a new fad.
When I'm an old man I'll do what I think
I'll tell you I'm tired of bellies with rings.
I'm tired of noses and tongues that go clink.
When I'm an old man I won't have to brag.
No special colors for me, I'll be starting to sag,
My color is gray, has been for years.
It's the color of hair that grows in my ears,
I won't need to wear red or purple you see,
I'll admit that I'm old when I'm one hundred and three.
anon.
*
Careless Love
William Waddell.
Love, O Love, O careless love,
You see what careless love can do.
When I wore my apron low,
Couldn't keep you from my door,
Fare you well, fare you well.
Now I wear my apron high,
Scarce see you passin' by,
Fare you well, fare you well.
anon.
FATHER
Father
by Edgar Albert Guest
My father knows the proper way
The nation should be run;
He tells us children every day
Just what should now be done.
He knows the way to fix the trusts,
He has a simple plan;
But if the furnace needs repairs,
We have to hire a man.
My father, in a day or two
Could land big thieves in jail;
There's nothing that he cannot do,
He knows no word like "fail."
"Our confidence" he would restore,
Of that there is no doubt;
But if there is a chair to mend,
We have to send it out.
All public questions that arise,
He settles on the spot;
He waits not till the tumult dies,
But grabs it while it's hot.
In matters of finance he can
Tell Congress what to do;
But, O, he finds it hard to meet
His bills as they fall due.
It almost makes him sick to read
The things law-makers say;
Why, father's just the man they need,
He never goes astray.
All wars he'd very quickly end,
As fast as I can write it;
But when a neighbor starts a fuss,
'Tis mother has to fight it.
In conversation father can
Do many wondrous things;
He's built upon a wiser plan
Than presidents or kings.
He knows the ins and outs of each
And every deep transaction;
We look to him for theories,
But look to Ma for action.
*
From the The Two Gentlemen from Verona:
I knew him myself, from our infancy
We have conversed and spent hours together;
And though myself have been an idle truant
Omitting the sweet benefit of time
He made use and fair advantage of his days
He is complete in feature and in mind
With all good grace to grace a gentleman.
*
Drew Gilpin is 28th president of Harvard.
Her grand mother used to sing:
I am a good old rebel,
That's what I am,
For this fair land of freedom,
I do not give a damn.
*
The road not taken.
I shall be feeling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Robert Frost.
*
On his 75Th birthday.
I strove with none, for none was worth my
strife,
Nature I loved, and next to Nature, Art;
I warmed both hands before the fire of life,
It sinks, and I am ready to depart.
William Savage Lander
*
Castles in the air.
My thoughts by night are often filled
With visions false as fair:
For in the Past alone I build
My castles in the air.
I dwell not now on what may be;
Night shadows o'er the scene;
But still my fancy wanders free
Through that which might have been.
Thomas Love Peacock.
*
Dirge.
Fear no more the heat o' the sun
Nor the furious winter's rages;
Thou thy worldly task hath done,
Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages;
Golden lads and girls must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust,
Fear no more the frown O' the great,
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke;
Care no more to clothe and eat,
To thee the reed is as the oak;
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this and come to dust.
Fear no more the lightning flash,
Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finished joy and moan:
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee and come to dust.
No exorciser harm thee
Nor no witchcraft charm thee.
Quiet consummation have,
And renowned be thy grave.
*
HOME SWEET HOME- John Howard Payne
Extracts:
"'Mid pleasures and places though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble,there's no place like
HOME.
The heart's dearest solace will smile on me
there;
No more from the cottage again will I roam;
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like
HOME.
HOME,HOME,SWEET,SWEET HOME.
There's no place like HOME, oh there's no
place like HOME."
Nullus est instar domus. There's no place like home. Keep repeating. Nollus est instar domus.
Father William - Lewis Carroll
" You are old, Father William," the young
man said,
"And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head -
Do you think, at your age, it is right? "
"In my youth," Father William replied to his
son,
"I feared it might injure the brain;
But now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again."
" You are old," said the youth, " as I mentioned before,
And have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned a back somersault in at the
door -
Pray, what is the reason of that?"
" In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his
gray locks,
" I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment - one shilling the
box -
Allow me to sell you a couple."
"You are old " said the youth, "and your jaws
are too weak
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones
and the beak;
Pray, how did you manage to do it ? "
"In my youth," said his father, "I took to the
law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength which it gave to
my jaw,
Has lasted the rest of my life."
"You are old," said the youth; "one would
hardly suppose
That your eye was as steady as ever;
Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your
nose -
What made you so awfully clever?"
"I have answered three questions, and that is
enough"
Said his father; " don't give yourself airs.
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Be off, or I'll kick you down-stairs."
*
By Gelett Burgess:
By Gelett Burgess
I'd rather have fingers than toes,
I'd rather have ears than a nose;
As for my hair,
I'm glad it's still there,
I'll be awfully sad when it goes.
*
Disgusting - anonymous
At the boarding house where I live
Things are getting very old.
Long gray hairs in the butter,
And the cheese is green with mold,
When the dog died we had sausage,
When the cat died, catnip tea.
When the landlord died I left it;
Spareribs are too much for me.
*
Get Up, Get Up - anonymous
Get up, get up, you lazy-head,
Get up you lazy sinner,
We need those sheets for tablecloths,
It's nearly time for dinner.
*
The Moron - anonymous
See the happy moron,
He doesn't give a damn.
I wish I were a moron -
My God. Perhaps I am.
*
Invictus
Death, Be Not Proud
Death, be not proud, though some have
called thee
Mighty and dreadful, thou art not so,
For those, whom thou thinkest thou dost
overthrow,
Die not,poor death, nor yet canst thou kill
me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures
be,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more
must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings and
desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness
dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as
well
And better than thy stroke; why swellest thou
then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt
die.
*
An Old Rhyme
Come on in,
The water's fine
I'll give you
Till I count to nine.
If you are not,
In by then,
Guess I'll have to
Count to ten.
*
Mary Lamb in "Poetry For Children"
I saw a boy with eager eye
Open a book upon a stall,
And read,as he'd devour it all;
Which, when the stall - man did espy,
Soon to the boy I heard him call,
"You Sir, You never buy a book,
Therefore in one you shall not look"
The boy pass'd slowly on, and with a sigh
He wish'd he never had been taught to read,
Then of the old churl's book he should have had no need.
*
The Old Familiar Faces - Charles Lamb.
Where are they gone,the old familiar faces?
I had a mother, but she died, and left me,
Died prematurely in a day of horrors-
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
I have had playmates, I have had companions,
In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-days -
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
I have been laughing, I have been carousing,
Drinking late, sitting late, with my bosom cronies-
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
I loved a love once, fairest among women;
Closed are her doors on me, I must not see her-
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
I have a friend, a kinder friend has no man;
Like an ingrate, I left my friend abruptly;
Left him, to muse on the old familiar faces.
Ghostlike I paced round the haunts of my childhood.
Earth seem'd a desert I was bound to traverse,
Seeking to find the old familiar faces.
Friend of my bosom, thou more than a brother,
Why wert not thou born in my father's dwelling?
So might we talk of the old familiar faces-
How some they have died, and some they have left me,
And some are taken from me, all are departed;
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
*
THE FORGOTTEN WARRIOR
Tommy
I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o' beer,
The publican 'e up an' sez, "We serve no red-coats here."
The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:
O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, go away";
But it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play.
I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me;
They sent me to the gallery or round the music-'alls,
But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls!
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, wait outside";
But it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide,
The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide,
O it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide.
Yes, makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap;
An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit.
Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, 'ow's yer soul?"
But it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll,
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll.
We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too,
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints,
Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints;
While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind",
But it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind,
There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
O it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind.
You talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an' fires, an' all:
We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
The Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute!"
But it's "Saviour of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot;
An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;
An' Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool -- you bet that Tommy sees!
-- Rudyard Kipling
*
John Brown by Luisa May Alcott
No breath of shame can touch his shield,
Nor ages dim its shine
Living he made life beautiful
Dying, made death divine.
" I wish that there were some wonderful place
Called the land of Beginning Again,
Where all our mistakes and all our heartaches
And all our poor selfish grief
Could be dropped like a shabby old coat at the door,
And never put it on again."
Luisa Fletcher.
*
"...
We have loved and lived together
Through many changing years,
We have shared each other's gladness
And wept each other's tears.
And let us hope the future
As the past has been will be:
I will share with thee my sorrows,
And then thy joys with me.
Charles Jeffreys.
*
A word of encouragement.
O what a tangled web we weave
When first we practice to deceive.
But when we've practiced quite awhile
How vastly we improve our style.
J.R.Poe.
*
When you are near.
" when you're away, I'm restless, lonely,
Wretched, bored, dejected; only
Here's the rub, my darling dear,
I feel the same when you are near."
Samuel Hoffenstein.
*
The Author's Epitaph.
I suffered so much from printer's errors
That death for me can hold no terrors;
I'll bet this stone has been misdated,
I wish to God I'd been cremated.
anon.
*
I burned my candle at both ends,
And now have neither foes nor friends;
For all the lovely light begotten,
I'm paying now in feeling rotten.
Samuel Hoffenstein.
*
I loved thee, beautiful and kind,
And plighted an eternal vow;
So alter'd are thy face and mind,
'Twere perjury to love thee now.
Robert Earl Nugent.
*
Just behind the Battle Mother,
I am slinking back to you;
For the cannons rattle, Mother,
Makes me feel uncommon blue.
I am not so fond of dying
As my comrades seem to be,
So from missiles round me flying
I am mizzling back to thee,
Chorus:
Mother don't you hear the hissing
Of the bulletses so plain?
I may be counted with the missing
But NEVER, NEVER with the slain.
anon.
*
I Am My Own Grandpa
by Moe Jaffe and Dwight Latham
Many, many years ago
when I was twenty-three,
I got married to a widow
who was a pretty as could be.
This widow had a grown-up daughter
who had hair of red.
My father fell in love with her,
and soon the two were wed.
This made my dad my son-in-law
and change my very life.
My daughter was my mother,
for she was my father's wife.
To complicate the matters worse,
although it brought me joy,
I soon became the father
of a bouncing baby boy.
My little baby then became
a brother-in-law to dad.
And so became by uncle,
though it made me very sad.
For if he was my uncle,
then that also made him brother
To the widow's grown up daughter who,
of course, was my step-mother
Father's wife then had a son,
who kept them on the run.
And he became my grandson,
for he was my daughter's son.
My wife is now my mother's mother
and it makes me blue,
Because, although she is my wife,
she's my grandma too.
If my wife is my grandmother,
then I am her grandchild
And every time I think of it,
it simply drives me wild.
For now I have become
the strangest case you ever saw,
As the husband of my grandmother,
I am my own grandpa!
posted by K.B.Chandra Raj at 9:35 PM 0 Comments
Sunday, February 28, 2010
VERSE AND WORSE
Dust If You Must
Anonymous
Dust if you must, but wouldn't it be better
To paint a picture, or write a letter,
Bake a cake, or plant a seed;
Ponder the difference between want and need?
Dust if you must, but there's not much time,
With rivers to swim, and mountains to climb;
Music to hear, and books to read;
Friends to cherish, and life to lead.
Dust if you must, but the world's out there
With the sun in your eyes, and the wind in your hair;
A flutter of snow, a shower of rain,
This day will not come around again.
Dust if you must, but bear in mind,
Old age will come and it's not kind.
And when you go (and go you must)
You, yourself, will make more dust.
posted by K.B.Chandra Raj at 11:48 PM 0 Comments
*
When I'm An Old Lady
by Joanne Bailey Baxter
When I'm an old lady, I'll live with each kid,
And bring so much happiness just as they did.
I want to pay back all the joy they've provided.
Returning each deed! Oh, they'll be so excited!
(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids...)
I'll write on the walls with reds, whites, and blues,
And bounce on the furniture.....wearing my shoes.
I'll drink from the carton and then leave it out.
I'll stuff all the toilets and oh, how they'll shout!
(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids...)
When they're on the phone and just out of reach,
I'll get into things like sugar and bleach.
Oh, they'll snap their fingers and then shake their head,
And when that is done, I'll hide under the bed.
(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids...)
When they cook dinner and call me to eat,
I'll not eat my green beans or salad or meat.
I'll gag on my okra, spill milk on the table,
And when they get angry...I'll run....if I'm able!
(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids...)
I'll sit close to the TV., through the channels I'll click
I'll cross both eyes just to see if they stick.
I'll take off my socks and throw one away,
And play in the mud 'til the end of the day!
(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids...)
And later in bed, I'll lay back and sigh,
I'll thank God in prayer and then close my eyes.
My kids will look down with a smile slowly creeping,
And say with a groan, "She's so sweet when she's sleeping!"
Posted by K.B.Chandra Raj at 7:13 AM
*
WRONG CLASS
Class Reunion
by Jim C. Carpenter
I read an ad in the paper one day
In the Dallas Morning News
All about my class reunion in
A town near Santa Cruz
I tried to decide if I should go
To meet my friends and peers
And see how classmates from the past
Had aged in all these years
I finally resolved that I should go
And see what I could see
And meet my friends from the senior class
Of nineteen fifty-three
I rented a tux and a black toupee
Then brushed my shoes and hair
I trimmed my mustache and my beard
And changed my under wear
I emptied the bottle of after shave
And rented a limousine
I brushed my teeth with Ultra-Bright
Then gargled some listerine
I soon arrived in splendid form
With a flower on my chest
Sporting a rented diamond ring
And smelling my very best
Now I was dressed in the finest garb
Like a monarch at a feast
When I discovered that no one there
Seemed familiar in the least
Well not a soul remembered me
And my heart dropped to the floor
When I remembered that I was in
The class of fifty-four
*
Have you seen a sheet on a river bed?
Or a single hair from a hammer's head?
Has the foot of a mountain any toes?
And is there a pair of garden hose?
Does the needle ever wink its eye?
Why doesn't the wing of a building fly?
Can you tickle the ribs of a parasol?
Or open the trunk of a tree at all?
Are the teeth of a rake ever going to bite?
Have the hands of a clock any left or right?
Can the garden plot be deep and dark?
And what is the sound of the birch's bark?
anon.
Get Up and Go
Peter Seeger.
How do I know my youth has been spent:
Because my get-up and go, got up and went.
But in spite of all that, I am able to grin
When I think where my get-up- and go has been.
Old age is golden, I've heard it said,
But sometimes I wonder as I go to bed.
My ears are in a drawer, my teeth in a cup,
My eyes on a table until I wake up.
When I was young my slippers were red
I could kick my heels right over my head.
When I grew older my slippers were blue
But I could still dance the whole night thru.
Now that I am old my slippers are black
I walk to the corner and puff my way back.
The reason I know my youth is spent
My get-up-and-go got up and went.
I get up each morning dust off my wits
Pick up the paper and read the 'orbits".
If my name is missing, I know I'm not dead
So I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed.
*
When I am an old man I shall do as I please.
I'll not cover my mouth when I cough or sneeze.
I'll put on a shirt that spent a week on the floor.
I'll eat five or six cookies and go back for more.
I'll burp and I'll belch, pass gas with a wink.
I'll eat from a dish that spent weeks in the sink.
My favorite foods will come from a can.
I'll eat every hour, That's my plan.
I'll forget my zipper, now that's not so bad.
For all you know it might start a new fad.
When I'm an old man I'll do what I think
I'll tell you I'm tired of bellies with rings.
I'm tired of noses and tongues that go clink.
When I'm an old man I won't have to brag.
No special colors for me, I'll be starting to sag,
My color is gray, has been for years.
It's the color of hair that grows in my ears,
I won't need to wear red or purple you see,
I'll admit that I'm old when I'm one hundred and three.
anon.
*
Careless Love
William Waddell.
Love, O Love, O careless love,
You see what careless love can do.
When I wore my apron low,
Couldn't keep you from my door,
Fare you well, fare you well.
Now I wear my apron high,
Scarce see you passin' by,
Fare you well, fare you well.
anon.
FATHER
Father
by Edgar Albert Guest
My father knows the proper way
The nation should be run;
He tells us children every day
Just what should now be done.
He knows the way to fix the trusts,
He has a simple plan;
But if the furnace needs repairs,
We have to hire a man.
My father, in a day or two
Could land big thieves in jail;
There's nothing that he cannot do,
He knows no word like "fail."
"Our confidence" he would restore,
Of that there is no doubt;
But if there is a chair to mend,
We have to send it out.
All public questions that arise,
He settles on the spot;
He waits not till the tumult dies,
But grabs it while it's hot.
In matters of finance he can
Tell Congress what to do;
But, O, he finds it hard to meet
His bills as they fall due.
It almost makes him sick to read
The things law-makers say;
Why, father's just the man they need,
He never goes astray.
All wars he'd very quickly end,
As fast as I can write it;
But when a neighbor starts a fuss,
'Tis mother has to fight it.
In conversation father can
Do many wondrous things;
He's built upon a wiser plan
Than presidents or kings.
He knows the ins and outs of each
And every deep transaction;
We look to him for theories,
But look to Ma for action.
*
From the The Two Gentlemen from Verona:
I knew him myself, from our infancy
We have conversed and spent hours together;
And though myself have been an idle truant
Omitting the sweet benefit of time
He made use and fair advantage of his days
He is complete in feature and in mind
With all good grace to grace a gentleman.
*
Drew Gilpin is 28th president of Harvard.
Her grand mother used to sing:
I am a good old rebel,
That's what I am,
For this fair land of freedom,
I do not give a damn.
*
The road not taken.
I shall be feeling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Robert Frost.
*
On his 75Th birthday.
I strove with none, for none was worth my
strife,
Nature I loved, and next to Nature, Art;
I warmed both hands before the fire of life,
It sinks, and I am ready to depart.
William Savage Lander
*
Castles in the air.
My thoughts by night are often filled
With visions false as fair:
For in the Past alone I build
My castles in the air.
I dwell not now on what may be;
Night shadows o'er the scene;
But still my fancy wanders free
Through that which might have been.
Thomas Love Peacock.
*
Dirge.
Fear no more the heat o' the sun
Nor the furious winter's rages;
Thou thy worldly task hath done,
Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages;
Golden lads and girls must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust,
Fear no more the frown O' the great,
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke;
Care no more to clothe and eat,
To thee the reed is as the oak;
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this and come to dust.
Fear no more the lightning flash,
Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finished joy and moan:
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee and come to dust.
No exorciser harm thee
Nor no witchcraft charm thee.
Quiet consummation have,
And renowned be thy grave.
*
HOME SWEET HOME- John Howard Payne
Extracts:
"'Mid pleasures and places though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble,there's no place like
HOME.
The heart's dearest solace will smile on me
there;
No more from the cottage again will I roam;
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like
HOME.
HOME,HOME,SWEET,SWEET HOME.
There's no place like HOME, oh there's no
place like HOME."
Nullus est instar domus. There's no place like home. Keep repeating. Nollus est instar domus.
Father William - Lewis Carroll
" You are old, Father William," the young
man said,
"And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head -
Do you think, at your age, it is right? "
"In my youth," Father William replied to his
son,
"I feared it might injure the brain;
But now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again."
" You are old," said the youth, " as I mentioned before,
And have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned a back somersault in at the
door -
Pray, what is the reason of that?"
" In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his
gray locks,
" I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment - one shilling the
box -
Allow me to sell you a couple."
"You are old " said the youth, "and your jaws
are too weak
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones
and the beak;
Pray, how did you manage to do it ? "
"In my youth," said his father, "I took to the
law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength which it gave to
my jaw,
Has lasted the rest of my life."
"You are old," said the youth; "one would
hardly suppose
That your eye was as steady as ever;
Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your
nose -
What made you so awfully clever?"
"I have answered three questions, and that is
enough"
Said his father; " don't give yourself airs.
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Be off, or I'll kick you down-stairs."
*
By Gelett Burgess:
By Gelett Burgess
I'd rather have fingers than toes,
I'd rather have ears than a nose;
As for my hair,
I'm glad it's still there,
I'll be awfully sad when it goes.
*
Disgusting - anonymous
At the boarding house where I live
Things are getting very old.
Long gray hairs in the butter,
And the cheese is green with mold,
When the dog died we had sausage,
When the cat died, catnip tea.
When the landlord died I left it;
Spareribs are too much for me.
*
Get Up, Get Up - anonymous
Get up, get up, you lazy-head,
Get up you lazy sinner,
We need those sheets for tablecloths,
It's nearly time for dinner.
*
The Moron - anonymous
See the happy moron,
He doesn't give a damn.
I wish I were a moron -
My God. Perhaps I am.
*
Invictus
Death, Be Not Proud
Death, be not proud, though some have
called thee
Mighty and dreadful, thou art not so,
For those, whom thou thinkest thou dost
overthrow,
Die not,poor death, nor yet canst thou kill
me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures
be,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more
must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings and
desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness
dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as
well
And better than thy stroke; why swellest thou
then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt
die.
*
An Old Rhyme
Come on in,
The water's fine
I'll give you
Till I count to nine.
If you are not,
In by then,
Guess I'll have to
Count to ten.
*
Mary Lamb in "Poetry For Children"
I saw a boy with eager eye
Open a book upon a stall,
And read,as he'd devour it all;
Which, when the stall - man did espy,
Soon to the boy I heard him call,
"You Sir, You never buy a book,
Therefore in one you shall not look"
The boy pass'd slowly on, and with a sigh
He wish'd he never had been taught to read,
Then of the old churl's book he should have had no need.
*
The Old Familiar Faces - Charles Lamb.
Where are they gone,the old familiar faces?
I had a mother, but she died, and left me,
Died prematurely in a day of horrors-
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
I have had playmates, I have had companions,
In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-days -
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
I have been laughing, I have been carousing,
Drinking late, sitting late, with my bosom cronies-
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
I loved a love once, fairest among women;
Closed are her doors on me, I must not see her-
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
I have a friend, a kinder friend has no man;
Like an ingrate, I left my friend abruptly;
Left him, to muse on the old familiar faces.
Ghostlike I paced round the haunts of my childhood.
Earth seem'd a desert I was bound to traverse,
Seeking to find the old familiar faces.
Friend of my bosom, thou more than a brother,
Why wert not thou born in my father's dwelling?
So might we talk of the old familiar faces-
How some they have died, and some they have left me,
And some are taken from me, all are departed;
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
*
THE FORGOTTEN WARRIOR
Tommy
I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o' beer,
The publican 'e up an' sez, "We serve no red-coats here."
The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:
O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, go away";
But it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play.
I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me;
They sent me to the gallery or round the music-'alls,
But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls!
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, wait outside";
But it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide,
The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide,
O it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide.
Yes, makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap;
An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit.
Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, 'ow's yer soul?"
But it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll,
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll.
We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too,
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints,
Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints;
While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind",
But it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind,
There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
O it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind.
You talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an' fires, an' all:
We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
The Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute!"
But it's "Saviour of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot;
An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;
An' Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool -- you bet that Tommy sees!
-- Rudyard Kipling
*
John Brown by Luisa May Alcott
No breath of shame can touch his shield,
Nor ages dim its shine
Living he made life beautiful
Dying, made death divine.
posted by K.B.Chandra Raj at
7:58 AM
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