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I looked into that empty bottle and I saw myself.

quote by Grace Metalious
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Carrolling II-Parody Lewis CARROLL–The Mad Gardener’s Song

Carolling II

He Thought He Saw

He thought he saw new Internet
exchanging peer to peer,
he looked again and found it was
a mirage for each year
sees more control, “what rôle, ” he said,
“for values once held dear?
Some track to trace attack and get
convictions based on fear.'

He dreamt he saw spam disappear,
all consultations free,
he looked again and found it was
a spybot lottery.
“Is net neutrality”, he said,
“from rash risks viral clear? ”

He dreamt that Microsoft would steer
all trash deleted fast,
then woke to find world insincere
where independence past
was sacrificed throughout the year
to biometrics ghast.

He thought he saw a friend’s hello,
with an attachment piece,
he looked again and found it was
the porno scanning police.
“Politically correct”, he said,
“can’t guarantee release.”

He opened it, discovered though,
a trojan horse to fleece –
he looked again as data flow
declined, - mind not at peace -
and whispered with voice hoarse and low:
'when will our worries cease? ”

He thought he saw a hierophant,
who’d deal successful life,
he looked again and found it was
subpoena from ex-wife
demanding child support, he said,
“cards are cut by Time’s knife.”

He looked once more with rage and rant
and swore like a fishwife

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Give Your Heart To The Hawks

1 he apples hung until a wind at the equinox,

That heaped the beach with black weed, filled the dry grass

Under the old trees with rosy fruit.

In the morning Fayne Fraser gathered the sound ones into a

basket,

The bruised ones into a pan. One place they lay so thickly
She knelt to reach them.

Her husband's brother passing
Along the broken fence of the stubble-field,
His quick brown eyes took in one moving glance
A little gopher-snake at his feet flowing through the stubble
To gain the fence, and Fayne crouched after apples
With her mop of red hair like a glowing coal
Against the shadow in the garden. The small shapely reptile
Flowed into a thicket of dead thistle-stalks
Around a fence-post, but its tail was not hidden.
The young man drew it all out, and as the coil
Whipped over his wrist, smiled at it; he stepped carefully
Across the sag of the wire. When Fayne looked up
His hand was hidden; she looked over her shoulder
And twitched her sunburnt lips from small white teeth
To answer the spark of malice in his eyes, but turned
To the apples, intent again. Michael looked down
At her white neck, rarely touched by the sun,
But now the cinnabar-colored hair fell off from it;
And her shoulders in the light-blue shirt, and long legs like a boy's
Bare-ankled in blue-jean trousers, the country wear;
He stooped quietly and slipped the small cool snake
Up the blue-denim leg. Fayne screamed and writhed,
Clutching her thigh. 'Michael, you beast.' She stood up
And stroked her leg, with little sharp cries, the slender invader
Fell down her ankle.

Fayne snatched for it and missed;

Michael stood by rejoicing, his rather small

Finely cut features in a dance of delight;

Fayne with one sweep flung at his face

All the bruised and half-spoiled apples in the pan,

[...] Read more

poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Carrolling - Parody Lewis CARROLL – The Mad Gardener’s Song

He thought he saw an Internet
exchanging peer to peer,
he looked again and hedged his bet, -
by middle of next year
new routing tables tuned as yet
unknown may well appear –
on track to trace attack and get
convictions based on fear.

He dreamt that spam would disappear,
all trash deleted fast.
He dreamt that Windows would be clear
of viral bugs’ wormcast.
He woke to find world insincere
where independence past
was sacrificed throughout the year
to biometrics ghast.

He thought he saw a friend’s hello
with an attachment piece,
he opened to discover, though,
a trojan horse release –
He looked again as data flow
declined, - mind not at peace -
and whispered with voice timbre low:
‘I’ll send for the Police! ”

He thought he saw a heirophant
predicting happy life.
He looked again, with rage and rant
discovered from ex-wife
an email angry claiming scant
support, which threatened strife:
“At length I see the immanent
attraction of Time’s knife! ”

He dreamt he saw as he awake
the euro reach a peak,
he saw he dreamt that Bush half bake
would leave the dollar weak: -
he woke to find what grave mistake
was made for the next week
the politicians put a stake
in budget – rocked boats leak!

He thought he saw Commission clerk
jump on bandwagon bus,
he looked again, just for a lark,
and found no tinker’s cuss
the former cared for bite was bark -

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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She Thought She Saw-Parody Lewis CARROLL–The Mad Gardener’s Song

She Thought She Saw

She thought she saw quite equal pay
afforded equal work,
she looked again and found it was
a most unusual quirk.
“That men should keep their cake, ” she said,
“and eat it too, must irk.”

She thought she saw that light of day
would filter through each jerk,
she looked again and found it was
belief most held beserk.
“That men should nappies change, ” she said,
“would wipe off every smirk! ”

She thought she saw fair interplay
where men would never shirk,
she looked again and found it was
a most miasmic murk
where rights were flouted, - “Hey! ” she said,
“men stand, wait, feeble lurk! ”

(15 April 2007 Parody Lewis CARROLL Some Hallucinations
The Mad Gardener's Dream Sylvie and Bruno Ch.5 See below Carolling and Carolling II)

Carolling

He thought he saw an Internet
exchanging peer to peer,
he looked again and hedged his bet, -
by middle of next year
new routing tables tuned as yet
unknown may well appear –
on track to trace attack and get
convictions based on fear.

He dreamt that spam would disappear,
all trash deleted fast.
He dreamt that Windows would be clear
of viral bugs’ wormcast.
He woke to find world insincere
where independence past
was sacrificed throughout the year
to biometrics ghast.

He thought he saw a friend’s hello
with an attachment piece,

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Geenie In A Bottle

I feel like I've been locked up tight
For a century of lonely nights
Waiting for someone to release me
You're licking your lips
And blowing kisses my way
But that don't mean I'm gonna give it away
Baby baby baby (baby, baby, baby)
Bridge
Ooooh (my body is saying let's go)
Ooooh (but my heart is saying no)
Chorus:
If you wanna be with me
Baby there's a price to pay
I'm a genie in a bottle
You gotta rub me the right way
If you wanna be with me
I can make your wish come true
You gotta make a big impression
I gotta like what you do
I'm a genie in a bottle baby
You gotta rub me the right way honey
I'm a genie in a bottle baby
Come, come, come on and let me out
The music's fading
The lights down low
Just one more dance
And then were good to go
Waiting for someone
Who needs me
Hormones racing at the speed of light
But that don't mean it's gotta be tonight
Baby, baby, baby (baby, baby, baby)
Bridge
Ooooh (my body is saying let's go)
Ooooh (but my heart is saying no)
Chorus
If you wanna be with me
| Baby there's a price to pay
I'm a genie in a bottle (I'm a genie in a bottle)
You gotta rub me the right way
If you wanna be with me (Ooh)
I can make your wish come true (Wish come true...woah)
Just come and set me free
And I'll be with you
I'm a genie in a bottle baby
You gotta rub me the right way honey
I'm a genie in a bottle baby
Come, come, come on and let me out
I'm a genie in a bottle baby
You gotta rub me the right way honey (if you wanna be with me)

[...] Read more

song performed by Christina Aguilera
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The Genie

(don henley/stan lynch/stuart brawley)
Is this what you wanted?
Did you even think twice?
Didnt they tell you that anything that feels this good
Comes with a price
It gave you such a rush
Now you think youve had enough
Its not that easy to walk away
This is the hard stuff
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
And everything matters, everything matters
Every little thing you do
That smoldering tingle under your skin
That sweet, delicious, but not-so-original sin
And when the world becomes too little or too much
The shadow mind contrives
The triumph and the tragedy that we invite into our lives
And adam glanced back at the tree
As he was leaving
Said, baby, thats the price we pay
Knowing is grieving
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
And everything matters, everything matters
Everything you say, everything you do
And the past comes back to smack you around
For all the things you thought you got for free
For the arrogance to think that you could somehow
Defy the laws of gravity
These are lessons in humility
Penitence for past offenses
Consequences, consequences
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle

song performed by Don Henley
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The bottle tree

A bottle tree bloometh in Winkyway land -
Heigh-ho for a bottle, I say!
A snug little berth in that ship I demand
That rocketh the Bottle-Tree babies away
Where the Bottle Tree bloometh by night and by day
And reacheth its fruit to each wee, dimpled hand;
You take of that fruit as much as you list,
For colic's a nuisance that doesn't exist!
So cuddle me and cuddle me fast,
And cuddle me snug in my cradle away,
For I hunger and thirst for that precious repast -
Heigh-ho for a bottle, I say!

The Bottle Tree bloometh by night and by day!
Heigh-ho for Winkyway land!
And Bottle-Tree fruit (as I've heard people say)
Makes bellies of Bottle-Tree babies expand -
And that is a trick I would fain understand!
Heigh-ho for a bottle to-day!
And heigh-ho for a bottle to-night -
A bottle of milk that is creamy and white!
So cuddle me close, and cuddle me fast,
And cuddle me snug in my cradle away,
For I hunger and thirst for that precious repast -
Heigh-ho for a bottle, I say!

poem by Eugene Field
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Real Mean Bottle

No man ever sounded so lonesome
No man ever made you feel such pain
Lord, it must have been a real mean bottle
That made you sing that way.
The stories you told about prison
About a young man gone astray
Lord, it must have been a real mean bottle
That made you write the songs that way.
Chorus:
A real mean bottle
Poured straight from the devil
It's a miracle you're standin' here today
A real mean bottle
Made you such a rebel
It must have been a real mean bottle
Made you sing that way.
You spent most all your life with strangers
With a ramblin' fever in your veins
Hag, it must have been a real mean bottle
That made you play the blues that way.
Chorus:
A real mean bottle
Poured straight from the devil
It's a miracle you're standin' here today
A real mean bottle
Made you such a rebel
It must have been a real mean bottle
Made you sing that way.
A real mean bottle
Poured straight from the devil
It must have been a real mean bottle
Made you sing that way...

song performed by Vince Gill
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Bottle Of Red Wine

(by bonnie bramlett and eric clapton)
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
I cant get up out of bed
With this crazy feeling in my head.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
You hear what I say?
Gonna love you anyway.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
I went to an all-night get together
And everyone I knew was there.
Had the love that would last forever.
Everywhere I looked, I saw you standing there.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
I cant get up out of bed
With this crazy feeling in my head.
I said get up right now, oh oh.
I said get up right now.
Feel so bad this morning; got a terrible headache in my head.
Do me a favor, baby, do me a favor please.
Please get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up, get up; get your man a big big bottle of red wine.

song performed by Eric Clapton
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Bring Another Bottle Baby

Better bring another bottle with you baby
If you really want to party then lets make it swing
Right into the morning.
Better bring another bottle with you baby
Cuz I really want to make this little bell ring.
Ding dong, ding.
I feel cold and I want to get you by my side
I feel bold and I want to show you how this man can ride.
Better bring another bottle with you baby
If you really want to party then lets make it swing
Right into the morning.
Better bring another bottle with you baby
Cuz I really want to make this little bell ring.
Ding dong, ding.
I feel smooth and I really want to live it up
If we groove then I promise you that we won't even stop
Better bring another bottle with you baby
I get the feeling that you want to take off and fly
High, high, well if my ceiling isn't high enough
We'll burn up the sky.
I feel smooth and I really want to live it up
If we groove then I promise you that we won't even stop
Better bring another bottle with you baby
I get the feeling that you want to take off and fly
High, high, well if my ceiling isn't high enough
We'll burn up the sky.
Better bring another bottle with you baby
Better try to bring another bottle now
Better bring another bottle baby
Better bring another bottle with you now.

song performed by Cat Stevens
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Better Bring Another Bottle Baby

Better bring another bottle with you baby
If you really want to party then lets make it swing
Right into the morning.
Better bring another bottle with you baby
Cuz I really want to make this little bell ring.
Ding dong, ding.
I feel cold and I want to get you by my side
I feel bold and I want to show you how this man can ride.
Better bring another bottle with you baby
If you really want to party then lets make it swing
Right into the morning.
Better bring another bottle with you baby
Cuz I really want to make this little bell ring.
Ding dong, ding.
I feel smooth and I really want to live it up
If we groove then I promise you that we wont even stop
Better bring another bottle with you baby
I get the feeling that you want to take off and fly
High, high, well if my ceiling isnt high enough
Well burn up the sky.
I feel smooth and I really want to live it up
If we groove then I promise you that we wont even stop
Better bring another bottle with you baby
I get the feeling that you want to take off and fly
High, high, well if my ceiling isnt high enough
Well burn up the sky.
Better bring another bottle with you baby
Better try to bring another bottle now
Better bring another bottle baby
Better bring another bottle with you now.

song performed by Cat Stevens
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Message In Bottle

Just a castaway
An island lost at sea
Another lonely day
No-one here but me
More loneliness
Than any man could bear
Rescue me before I fall into despair
Ill send an sos to the world
Ill send an sos to the world
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
Message in a bottle
Message in a bottle
A year has passed since I wrote my note
But I should have known this right from the start
Only hope can keep me together
Love can mend your life
But love can break your heart
Ill send an sos to the world
Ill send an sos to the world
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
Message in a bottle
Message in a bottle
Ooh... message in a bottle
Message in a bottle
Walked out this morning
Dont believe what I saw
A hundred billion bottles
Washed up on the shore
Seems Im not alone in being alone
A hundred billion castaways
Looking for a home
Ill send an sos to the world
Ill send an sos to the world
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
Message in a bottle
Message in a bottle
Message in a bottle
Message in a bottle
Sending out an sos
Sending out an sos
Im sending out an sos
Im sending out an sos...

song performed by Police
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Message In Bottle

Just a castaway
An island lost at sea
Another lonely day
No-one here but me
More loneliness
Than any man could bear
Rescue me before I fall into despair
Ill send an sos to the world
Ill send an sos to the world
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
Message in a bottle
Message in a bottle
A year has passed since I wrote my note
But I should have known this right from the start
Only hope can keep me together
Love can mend your life
But love can break your heart
Ill send an sos to the world
Ill send an sos to the world
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
Message in a bottle
Message in a bottle
Ooh... message in a bottle
Message in a bottle
Walked out this morning
Dont believe what I saw
A hundred billion bottles
Washed up on the shore
Seems Im not alone in being alone
A hundred billion castaways
Looking for a home
Ill send an sos to the world
Ill send an sos to the world
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
Message in a bottle
Message in a bottle
Message in a bottle
Message in a bottle
Sending out an sos
Sending out an sos
Im sending out an sos
Im sending out an sos...

song performed by Police
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Bottle Rocket

It's flimsy and clumsy
and epileptically sturdy
Lacking circuit transistors
With 20 inch motors
The paint jobs diminished
Crackling white brim acrylics
And you can see the Coke logo
Embellished beneath the port windows
But none of this matters
Even if the ship scatters
For it's propelled with conviction
Against the Sadisms of Physics

It's an aluminum cadaver
Furbishing two cylinder pillars
With an apple juice cartridge
Bifurcated as the ship's bow
It's got wings to counterbalance
The aerodynamic escaping actions
Though their made of cardboard triangles
They look developed from certain angels
There are a dozen toothpaste caps
Interlinked through the silver stern
Which boost it up to outer space
Connecting me to angel in turns

I'll be a thousand light years off
While still inside the french courtyard
Looking left at Bernard's Star
Across the voluminous parking lot
Peripatetically motioning
Towards the gemstones of Andromeda
Engaging zigzagging quasars
Under succulent Milky Way Bar
Caressing the navigation
Towards the strangest of destinations
Jungles of steel, skies of flying whales
Found under ellipses of oneway lenses

Bottle Rockets float
Under Surreal Gravity,
upside down my sanity
This is a fantastic disaster
But it doesen't anti-matter
Because it my bottle rocket
I'm an aggrandized Agnostic

[...] Read more

poem by Kevin Patrick
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Without the Immortal Love of a Woman…

Every man’s eye is devastatingly empty; unbearably rotting towards the dungeons of diabolical hell; without the celestially commiserating reflections of a bountiful woman,

Every man’s palm is sinfully empty; barbarously rotting towards the coffins of penalizing hell; without the compassionately befriending grip of an honest woman,

Every man’s vein is dreadfully empty; devilishly rotting towards the vacuum of torturous hell; without the invincibly righteous rudiments of a sacrosanct woman,

Every man’s brain is deliriously empty; sadistically rotting towards the thorns of cold-blooded hell; without the unsurpassably ebullient fantasies of an eclectic woman,

Every man’s lip is ghastily empty; tawdrily rotting towards the mortuaries of parasitic hell; without the wondrously igniting kisses of an ardent woman,

Every man’s shadow is venomously empty; carnivorously rotting towards the skeletons of hideous hell; without the mellifluously symbiotic sweetness of a benign woman,

Every man’s signature is disastrously empty; egregiously rotting towards the nothingness of hedonistic hell; without the astoundingly ameliorating reflection of a caring woman,

Every man’s mission is treacherously empty; horrendously rotting towards the dirt of excoriating hell; without the pricelessly unconquerable encouragement of a blessed woman,

Every man’s lung is cripplingly empty; nonsensically rotting towards the meaninglessness of asphyxiating hell; without the unassailably reinvigorating breath of a timeless woman,

Every man’s cheek is lecherously empty; salaciously rotting towards the perversions of crucifying hell; without the mischievously spell binding peck of an untamed woman,

Every man’s chest is drearily empty; ignominiously rotting towards the blackness of massacring hell; without the magically reincarnating caress of a sensuous woman,

Every man’s spine is lividly empty; preposterously rotting towards the holocaust of morbid hell; without the insurmountably majestic virility of an enigmatic woman,

Every man’s adventure is hopelessly empty; sacrilegiously rotting towards the ghost of tormenting hell; without the inscrutably tantalizing echo of a mesmerizing woman,

Every man’s skin is frigidly empty; inconsolably rotting towards the whiplash of strangulating hell; without the fathomlessly unabashed exhilaration of an intrepid woman,

Every man’s soul is cursedly empty; inexplicably rotting towards the gallows of murderous hell; without the infallibly consecrating sensitivity of a vivacious woman,

Every man’s shoulder is dolorously empty; blasphemously rotting towards the shards of deteriorating hell; without the amazingly unflinching unity of a blissful woman,

Every man’s ear is abjectly empty; viciously rotting towards the gutters of malevolent hell; without the enchantingly unfettered voice of a mystical woman,

Every man’s nostril is despondently empty; perilously rotting towards the wickedness of baseless hell; without the perennially life-yielding fragrance of an intricate woman,

And every man’s heart is haplessly empty; unsparingly rotting towards the evil jinx of cannibalistic hell; without the immortally embracing love of a faithful woman….

poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Thurso’s Landing

I
The coast-road was being straightened and repaired again,
A group of men labored at the steep curve
Where it falls from the north to Mill Creek. They scattered and hid
Behind cut banks, except one blond young man
Who stooped over the rock and strolled away smiling
As if he shared a secret joke with the dynamite;
It waited until he had passed back of a boulder,
Then split its rock cage; a yellowish torrent
Of fragments rose up the air and the echoes bumped
From mountain to mountain. The men returned slowly
And took up their dropped tools, while a banner of dust
Waved over the gorge on the northwest wind, very high
Above the heads of the forest.
Some distance west of the road,
On the promontory above the triangle
Of glittering ocean that fills the gorge-mouth,
A woman and a lame man from the farm below
Had been watching, and turned to go down the hill. The young
woman looked back,
Widening her violet eyes under the shade of her hand. 'I think
they'll blast again in a minute.'
And the man: 'I wish they'd let the poor old road be. I don't
like improvements.' 'Why not?' 'They bring in the world;
We're well without it.' His lameness gave him some look of age
but he was young too; tall and thin-faced,
With a high wavering nose. 'Isn't he amusing,' she said, 'that
boy Rick Armstrong, the dynamite man,
How slowly he walks away after he lights the fuse. He loves to
show off. Reave likes him, too,'
She added; and they clambered down the path in the rock-face,
little dark specks
Between the great headland rock and the bright blue sea.

II
The road-workers had made their camp
North of this headland, where the sea-cliff was broken down and
sloped to a cove. The violet-eyed woman's husband,
Reave Thurso, rode down the slope to the camp in the gorgeous
autumn sundown, his hired man Johnny Luna
Riding behind him. The road-men had just quit work and four
or five were bathing in the purple surf-edge,
The others talked by the tents; blue smoke fragrant with food
and oak-wood drifted from the cabin stove-pipe
And slowly went fainting up the vast hill.
Thurso drew rein by
a group of men at a tent door
And frowned at them without speaking, square-shouldered and
heavy-jawed, too heavy with strength for so young a man,
He chose one of the men with his eyes. 'You're Danny Woodruff,

[...] Read more

poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Bottle 'O

I ain't the kind of bloke as takes to any steady job;
I drives me bottle cart around the town;
A bloke what keeps 'is eyes about can always make a bob --
I couldn't bear to graft for every brown.
There's lots of handy things about in everybody's yard,
There's cocks and hens a-runnin' to an' fro,
And little dogs what comes and barks -- we take 'em off their guard
And we puts 'em with the Empty Bottle-O!

Chorus --
So it's any "Empty bottles! Any empty bottle-O!"
You can hear us round for half a mile or so
And you'll see the women rushing
To take in the Monday's washing
When they 'ear us crying, "Empty Bottle-O!"

I'm driving down by Wexford-street and up a winder goes,
A girl sticks out 'er 'ead and looks at me,
An all-right tart with ginger 'air, and freckles on 'er nose;
I stops the cart and walks across to see.
"There ain't no bottles 'ere," says she, "since father took the pledge,"
"No bottles 'ere," says I, "I'd like to know
What right 'ave you to stick your 'ead outside the winder ledge,
If you 'aven't got no Empty Bottle-O!"
I sometimes gives the 'orse a spell, and then the push and me
We takes a little trip to Chowder Bay.
Oh! ain't it nice the 'ole day long a-gazin' at the sea
And a-hidin' of the tanglefoot away.
But when the booze gits 'old of us, and fellows starts to "scrap",
There's some what likes blue-metal for to throw:
But as for me, I always says for layin' out a "trap"
There's nothing like an Empty Bottle-O!

poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Santa Looked A Lot Like Daddy

(Buck Owens & Don Rich)
Well, Santa looked a lot like daddy
Or daddy looked alot like him
It's not the way I had him pictured
Santa was a much too thin
He didn't come down the chimney
So momma musta let him in
Yeah, Santa looked a lot like daddy
Or daddy looked alot like him.
Well they thought I was a sleepin'
They thought I was tucked in bed
They never thought that I'd come a peepin'
Or that I'd hear what was said
Santa put his arm around momma
And momma put her arm around him
So if Santa Claus ain't daddy
Then I'm a gonna tell on them.
Well, Santa looked a lot like daddy
Or daddy looked alot like him
It's not the way I had him pictured
Santa was a much too thin
He didn't come down the chimney
So momma musta let him in
Well, Santa looked a lot like daddy
Or daddy looked alot like him.
I never saw Dancer or Prancer
I never heard the sleigh bells ring
I never saw the red nosed reindeer
Like they show on the TV screen
But he sure bought alot of presents
So Santa Claus he must have been
Well, he sure looked a lot like daddy
And daddy looked alot like him.
Well, Santa looked a lot like daddy
Or daddy looked alot like him
It's not the way I had him pictured
Santa was a much too thin
He didn't come down the chimney
So momma musta let him in
Well, Santa looked a lot like daddy
Or daddy looked alot like him.
Santa looked a lot like daddy
Or daddy looked alot like
Daddy looked alot like him...

song performed by Travis Tritt
Added by Lucian Velea
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Put That Bottle Down

When you get sippin'
I get tired of it.
Then you begin to trippin'
And that makes me sick.

Why can't you put,
That bottle down.
If you wont do that,
I can't stay around.

You're a closet alcoholic,
That's a fact you wont admit.
When you begin to nippin...
Your sips don't quit.

Why can't you put that bottle down.
If you wont do that I can't stay around.

You need to stop that sippin quick.
When you get drunk,
It makes me sick.
That habit that you have admit it...
Before you get ripped on your trip.

Why can't you put that bottle down.
If you wont do that I can't stay around.

If you choose to you can do it.
If you choose I'll help you through it,
But...
You need to put that bottle down.
You need to do it 'cause I want you around!

If you choose to you can do it.
If you choose I'll help you through it,
But...
You need to put that bottle down.
You need to do it 'cause I want you around!

If you choose to you can do it.
If you choose I'll help you through it,
But...
You need to put that bottle down.
You need to do it 'cause I want you around!

If you choose to you can do it.
If you choose I'll help you through it.
Prove it to yourself this habit you can remove!

Why can't you put that bottle down!

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Armada

A nursery governess stood and stared
At a hundred and fifty ships,
That lay in the Harbour at Lisbon where
They loaded each Galleass,
They bristled with brass and iron guns
With cannon and shot to spare,
And thousands of Spanish soldiers, heading
For England, do or dare!

A girl from a gentle Sussex home,
She thought of her father's fate,
A bluff, old-fashioned seafarer
Who had sailed with Francis Drake,
But this was surely the grandest fleet
That ever had put to sea,
Since Christ had walked on the water
On that lake, in Galilee.

She took up her parchment, dipped the quill
And wrote to a face unknown,
She knew that the King of Spain would seek
To usurp Elizabeth's throne,
Her countrymen must be forewarned
Must all be made to see!
She wrote: 'A massive Armada sails
To seize your good country! '

She thrust it into a bottle that
Had held fine Spanish wine,
Then sealed the top with a plug of wax
To keep the message dry.
She flung it over the nearest cliff,
It drifted out to sea,
A message, meant for Sir Francis Drake
And all his company.

The bottle had bobbed on the surface as
The governess knelt and prayed,
'Dear Lord, deliver me just one thing
That England might be saved!
I'm merely an English governess,
Not versed in tricks or guile,
But if I could save dear England, then
My life had been worthwhile.'

The bottle still bobbed in the Channel, then
Was swept due south and west,
Right out to the mid-Atlantic swell
It made its way, unblessed,
For thirty years it had bobbled about,

[...] Read more

poem by David Lewis Paget
Added by Poetry Lover
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