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Terminator Salvation

Cast: Christian Bale, Sam Worthington, Moon Bloodgood, Helena Bonham Carter, Anton Yelchin, Jadagrace, Bryce Dallas Howard

trailer for Terminator Salvation, directed by McG (2009)
Added by Alexandru Uvra
Comment! | Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian

Medley: Pick A Bale Of Cotton / On Top Of Old Smokey / Midnight Special

Gonna jump down, spin around, pick a bale of cotton
Gonna jump down, spin around, pick a bale a day
Gonna jump down, spin around, pick a bale of cotton
Gonna jump down, spin around, pick a bale a day
Oh lordy
Pick a bale of cotton
Oh lordy
Pick a bale a day
Oh lordy
Pick a bale of cotton
Oh lordy
Pick a bale a day
I said me and my buddy gonna pick a bale of cotton
Now me and my buddy gonna pick a bale a day
I said me and my buddy gonna pick a bale of cotton
Now me and my buddy gonna pick a bale a day
Oh lordy
Pick a bale of cotton
Oh lordy
Pick a bale a day
Oh lordy
Pick a bale of cotton
Oh lordy
Pick a bale a day
On top of old Smokey
all covered with snow
I lost my true lover
by courting so slow
For courting's a pleasure
And parting is brief
and a false-hearted lover
is worse than a thief
On top of old Smokey
all covered with snow
I lost my true lover
by courting so slow
Well, you wake up in the morning
Hear the ding dong ring
You go marching to the table
See the same old thing
See the fork on the table
Nothing in your pan
If you say a thing about it
You're in trouble with the man
Let the midnight special
Shine a light on me
Let the midnight special
Shine it's everlovin' light on me
If you ever go to Houston
Well you'd better act right

[...] Read more

song performed by ABBA
Added by Lucian Velea
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Pick A Bale Of Cotton

Gonna jump down
Spin around
Pick a bale of cotton
Gonna jump down
Spin around
Pick a bale a day
Gonna jump down
Spin around
Pick a bale of cotton
Gonna jump down
Spin around
Pick a bale a day
Oh, lordy
Pick a bale of cotton
Oh, lordy
Pick a bale a day
Oh, lordy
Pick a bale of cotton
Oh, lordy
Pick a bale a day
I said
Me and my buddy gonna pick a bale of cotton
Now
Me and my buddy gonna pick a bale a day
I said
Me and my buddy gonna pick a bale of cotton
Now
Me and my buddy gonna pick a bale a day
Oh, lordy
Pick a bale of cotton
Oh, lordy
Pick a bale a day
Oh, lordy
Pick a bale of cotton
Oh, lordy
Pick a bale a day

song performed by ABBA
Added by Lucian Velea
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Dallas

[ jimmie dale gilmore ]
Chorus:
Did you ever see dallas from a dc-9 at night?
Dallas is a jewel
Yeah, dallas is a beautiful sight
Dallas is a jungle
But dallas gives a beautiful light
Did you ever see dallas from a dc-9 at night?
Now dallas is a woman who will walk on you when youre down
But when you are up shes the kind you wanna take around
Now dallas aint a woman to help you get your feet on the ground
And dallas is a woman who will walk on you when youre down
Oh, I came into dallas with the bright lights on my mind
I came into dallas with a dollar and a dime
Dallas is a rich man with a death wish in his eyes
A steel concrete soul with a warm-hearted love in disguise
A rich man who tends to believe in his own lies
I say, dallas is a rich man with a death wish in his yes
Oh, I came into dallas with the brights lights on my mind
I came into dallas with a dollar and a dime
Chorus

song performed by 10000 Maniacs
Added by Lucian Velea
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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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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!

O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]

POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR

POEMS

1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song

[...] Read more

poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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Es Ist Nie Vorbei

Together:
Sam bo rom bom
Es ist nie vorbei
Sam bo rom bom
Sam bo rom bom
Ich denk' an dich
Sam bo rom bom
Ich hab sehnsucht nach dir
Blmchen:
Es ist nie vorbei
Es ist zauberei
Verliebt in alle ewigkeit
Manchmal gibt es streit
Aber mit der zeit
Kommt die sehnsucht wieder
Und ich denk' an dich
Und du an mich
Wir sehen uns beide magischen
Es ist nie vorbei
Es ist zauberei
Wie ein unsichtsbares paar
E-type:
We've come a long way
It's been a rough ride
Tell me why all the good things has to come to an end
We've left no stone unturned
Tell me what
How will i miss you already waiting for your return
Together:
Sam bo rom bom
Es ist nie vorbei
Sam bo rom bom
Sam bo rom bom
Ich denk' an dich
Sam bo rom bom
Ich hab sehnsucht nach dir
Blmchen:
Es ist nie vorbei
Es ist zauberei
Verliebt in alle ewigkeit
Manchmal gibt es streit
Aber mit der zeit
Kommt die sehnsucht wieder
Und ich denk' an dich
Und du an mich
Wir sehen uns beide magischen
Es ist nie vorbei
Es ist zauberei
Wie ein unsichtsbares paar
E-type:

[...] Read more

song performed by E-type
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sir Andrew Barton

The First Part
'When Flora with her fragrant flowers
Bedeckt the earth so trim and gaye,
And Neptune with his daintye showers
Came to present the monthe of Maye;
King Henrye rode to take the ayre,
Over the river of Thames past hee;
When eighty merchants of London came,
And downe they knelt upon their knee.

'O yee are welcome, rich merchants,
Good saylors, welcome unto mee.'
They swore by the rood, they were saylors good,
But rich merchants they cold not bee.
'To France nor Flanders dare we pass,
Nor Bordeaux voyage dare we fare;
And all for a rover that lyes on the seas,
Who robbs us of our merchant ware.'

King Henrye frownd, and turned him rounde,
And swore by the Lord that was mickle of might,
'I thought he had not beene in the world,
Durst have wrought England such unright.'
The merchants sighed, and said, 'Alas!'
And thus they did their answer frame;
'He is a proud Scott, that robbs on the seas,
And Sir Andrewe Barton is his name.'

The king loot over his left shoulder,
And an angrye look then looked hee;
'Have I never a lorde in all my realme,
Will feitch yond traytor unto mee?'
'Yea, that dare I,' Lord Howard sayes;
If it please your grace to give me leave,
Myselfe wil be the only man.'

'Thou art but yong,' the kyng replyed,
'Yond Scott hath numbred manye a yeare.'
'Trust me, my liege, Ile make him quail,
Or before my prince I will never appeare.'
'Then bowemen and gunners thou shalt have,
And chuse them over my realme so free;
Besides good mariners, and shipp-boyes,
To guide the great shipp on the sea.'

The first man that Lord Howard chose,
Was the ablest gunner in all the realme,
Thoughe he was threescore yeeres and ten;
Good Peter Simon was his name.
'Peter,' sais hee, 'I must to the sea,

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Sam

(john farrar/hank marvin/don black)
I heard that youre on your own now
So am i
Im living alone now
I was wrong
So were you
What will you do?
Are you glad to be free?
Are you feeling lost just like me?
Longing for company
Oh sam, sam, you know where I am
Come around and talk awhile
I need your smile
You need a shoulder
Oh sam, sam, you know where I am
And the door is open wide
Come on inside
Longing to see you
Oh sam, sam, you know where I am
I find the days hard to face now
Empty rooms
Theres much too much space now
And the nights go so slow
Im sure you know
Wish I knew what to do
It would be so nice seeing you
And it might help you too
Oh sam, sam, you know where I am
Come around and talk awhile
I need your smile
You need a shoulder
Oh sam, sam, you know where I am
And the door is open wide
Come on inside
Longing to see you
Oh sam, sam, you know where I am
Oh sam, you know where I am
Oh sam, ooh sam
You know, you know
You know where I am

song performed by Olivia Newton-John
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Rivals

Look heah! Is I evah tole you 'bout de curious way I won
Anna Liza? Say, I nevah? Well heah's how de thing wuz done.

Lize, you know, wuz mighty purty —dat's been forty yeahs ago —
'N 'cos to look at her dis minit, you might'n spose dat it wuz so.

She wuz jes de greates' 'traction in de county, 'n bless de lam'!
Eveh darkey wuz a-co'tin, but it lay 'twix me an' Sam.

You know Sam. We both wuz wukin' on de ole John Tompkin's place.
'N evehbody wuz a-watchin' t' see who's gwine to win de race.

Hee! hee! hee! Now you mus' raley 'scuse me fu' dis snickering,
But I jes can't he'p f'om laffin' eveh time I tells dis thing.

Ez I wuz a-sayin', me an' Sam wuked daily side by side,
He a-studyin', me a-studyin', how to win Lize fu' a bride.

Well, de race was kinder equal. Lize wuz sorter on de fence;
Sam he had de mostes dollars, an' I had de mostes sense.

Things dey run along 'bout eben tel der come Big Meetin' day;
Sam den thought, to win Miss Liza, he had foun' de shoest way.

An' you talk about big meetin's! None been like it 'fore nor sence;
Der wuz sich a crowd o' people dat we had to put up tents.

Der wuz preachers f'om de Eas', an' 'der wuz preachers f'om de Wes';
Folks had kilt mos' eveh chicken, an' wuz fattenin' up de res'.

Gals had all got new w'ite dresses, an' bought ribbens fu' der hair,
Fixin' fu' de openin' Sunday, prayin' dat de day'd be fair.

Dat de Reveren' Jasper Jones of Mount Moriah, it wuz 'low'd,
Wuz to preach de openin' sermon; so you know der wuz a crowd.

Fu' dat man wuz sho a preacher; had a voice jes like a bull;
So der ain't no use in sayin' dat de meetin' house wuz full.

Folks wuz der f'om Big Pine Hollow, some come 'way f'om Muddy Creek,
Some come jes to stay fu' Sunday, but de crowd stay'd thoo de week.

Some come ridin' in top-buggies wid de w'eels all painted red,
Pulled by mules dat run like rabbits, each one tryin' to git ahead.

Othah po'rer folks come drivin' mules dat leaned up 'ginst de shaf',
Hitched to broke-down, creaky wagons dat looked like dey'd drap in half.

But de bigges' crowd come walkin', wid der new shoes on der backs;
'Scuse wuz dat dey couldn't weah em 'cause de heels wuz full o' tacks.

[...] Read more

poem by James Weldon Johnson
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Moon, Moon, Crazy Moon

moon, moon, crazy moon
natural moon
torn apart and snoozing moon;
lovely moon, romantic moon
poor poor moon
the romance
plucked out of its drab surface;
moon moon going wild
moon moon running away
from the earth -
O moon, why do you run away from the earth?
does earth touch you in the wrong places
and you've got no Body
to which one could lodge
a complaint about sexual harassment? ?
ah, moon moon, temperamental moon
dark moon
glowing moon;
sexy moon
and old-woman hag of a moon;
moon moon with the best views of the earth
moon moon moon
puts me to sleep and wakes me up
in the middle of nights;
and one day we'll sleep in the moon
and produce babies there
and we'll have the first moon-ish boys and girls
and moon-ly families;
but meanwhile
moon moon driving fanatics
and inspiring love and romance and myths
moon moon eerie moon
moon moon that presides over love and horrors
and evil and good
and naked witches dancing in moonlit groves;
pooor moon moon the earth moon
not as interesting and dramatic as other moons;
don't get too friendly and dropp in -
oh, never dropp in, no one invited you
silly mooonn, no no, you're not invited home to earth
moon moon cheese moon eaten by mice;
but still our dear moon darling moon
moon mooon
our very own earth's moon
as we moo moo like cows
moo moo moo mooo
at our own moon moon moon

poem by Raj Arumugam
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Uncle Sam

Here they come again hop scotching up to my door
One by one again knockety knock knocking upon my floor
Swinging on my gate they gain entry by the yard
Pulling at my hair they scream paint your thoughts upon my card
But not tonight Ive got studies to examine
Tomorrow Ill be watching all the queens men
A talent contest on monday with my uncle sam
Who now takes up all of my time he gives me things to do
cause hes a wonderful man
But Im sailing across the sea to see my uncle sam
Im sailing across the sea to be with my uncle sam
To be with my uncle sam
Silly little sniggers from the women liberators
But Ill stand and hold my post
Polished buttons and erect Ill raise the flag
Ill show those women whos the most
But not tonight Ive got studies to examine
Tomorrow Ill be watching all the queens men
A talent contest on monday with my uncle sam
Who now takes up all of my time, gives me things to do
Hes a wonderful man
But Im sailing across the sea to see my uncle sam
Im sailing across the sea to be with my uncle sam
Im sailing across the sea to see my uncle sam
Im sailing across the sea to be with my uncle sam
But not tonight Ive got studies to examine
Tomorrow ah ah ah
And tomorrow Ill be watching all the queens men
A talent contest on monday with my uncle sam
Who now takes up all of my time he gives me things to do
cause hes a wonderful man
Im sailing across the sea to see my uncle sam
Im sailing across the sea to be with my uncle sam
Im sailing across the sea to see my uncle sam
Im sailing across the sea to be with my uncle sam

song performed by Madness
Added by Lucian Velea
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Zdravo, Moje Ime Je Sara

Moje ime je Sara.
Ja sam ona koja nisam,
koja nikada nisam.
Ovo su ruke za moje zagrljaje.
Osakacene prazninom.
Okrunjene u prstenju koje sumrakom skidam
i u tmine bacam.
One pisu istoriju plasticne igracke
sahranjene u grobovima djetinjstva
koje nije doraslo do kolijevke.

Zovem se Sara.
Ja sam ona koja pokusava da bude.
Ovo su stopala za moje korake.
Ukocene putevima.
Vezana zveketavim nakitom
koji sumrakom skidam i u tmine bacam.

Ona hodaju nepostojecim ulicama
kojima gaze jos samo prividi staza.
Silaze u bunare
da u njima udave
proplivalu nadu za kraj.

Moje ime je Sara.
Ja sam ona koja bi htjela.
Ovo je vrat za vase ruke.
Dotaknite lagano.
Vezan je hiljadama lancica
koje sumrakom skidam
i u tmine bacam.

Ona jedu halapljivo,
krugove u koje sazimam snove
dozvoljavam da dira.
Neka je.

Zovem se Sara.
Ja sam ona koja ne pristaje.
Ovo je kosa za moje pletenice.
U njima trake od srebra
i bisere sjajne sumrakom skidam
i u tmine bacam. Neka ih.

[...] Read more

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Three Ha'Pence a Foot

I'll tell you an old-fashioned story
That Grandfather used to relate,
Of a joiner and building contractor;
'Is name, it were Sam Oglethwaite.

In a shop on the banks of the Irwell,
Old Sam used to follow 'is trade,
In a place you'll have 'eard of, called Bury;
You know, where black puddings is made.

One day, Sam were filling a knot 'ole
Wi' putty, when in thro' the door
Came an old feller fair wreathed wi' whiskers;
T'ould chap said 'Good morning, I'm Noah.'

Sam asked Noah what was 'is business,
And t'ould chap went on to remark,
That not liking the look of the weather,
'E were thinking of building an Ark.

'E'd gotten the wood for the bulwarks,
And all t'other shipbuilding junk,
And wanted some nice Bird's Eye Maple
To panel the side of 'is bunk.

Now Maple were Sam's Monopoly;
That means it were all 'is to cut,
And nobody else 'adn't got none;
So 'e asked Noah three ha'pence a foot.

'A ha'penny too much,' replied Noah
'A Penny a foot's more the mark;
A penny a foot, and when t'rain comes,
I'll give you a ride in me Ark.'
But neither would budge in the bargain;
The whole daft thing were kind of a jam,
So Sam put 'is tongue out at Noah,
And Noah made 'Long Bacon ' at Sam

In wrath and ill-feeling they parted,
Not knowing when they'd meet again,
And Sam had forgot all about it,
'Til one day it started to rain.

It rained and it rained for a fortni't,
And flooded the 'ole countryside.
It rained and it kept' on raining,
'Til the Irwell were fifty mile wide.

The 'ouses were soon under water,

[...] Read more

poem by Marriott Edgar
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Hello, my name is Sarah

My name is Sarah
I am the one who is not
Who never is
These are the hands for my embraces
Mutilated in emptiness
Husked in the rings at twilight I take off
And throw into the dark.
They are writing a history of a plastic toy
Buried in the tombs of childhood
That never grew towards a cradle.

My name is Sarah
I am the one who is trying to be
These are the feet for my steps.
Frozen in the paths
Tied by tinkling jewelerry
At twilight I take off
And throw into the dark.

They walk the streets that there are no more
The streets trodden by mere silhouettes of paths
They go down the wells
To strangle in them
A swimming hope for the end.

My name is Sarah.
I am the one who wants.
This is the neck for your hands.
Slightly touch.
It's tied in thousands of necklaces
At twilight I take off
And throw into the dark.

The darkness greedily eats
The circles I push the dreams into
I let it touch.
It's all right.

My name is Sarah.
I am the one who does not consent.
This is the hair for my plaits.
The silver ribbons
And shiny pearls at twilight I take off
And throw it into the dark.
It's all right.

I have broken all the rules
I have broken cliches
Magic circles
I tore the pages

[...] Read more

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The Awful God

Richard Bryce was a mystery,
He lived on a back street lot,
The house was the old half-timbered sort,
Paint peeled on the old wainscot,
The blinds were drawn through the day and night
And the garden a neighbourhood moan,
Full of the bodies of rusting cars
And creepers, all overgrown.

We rarely saw him out in the street
But he'd peep from the side of blinds,
And stories were told in the neighbourhood
That were often more harsh than kind,
There'd been a wife and a daughter once
But they hadn't been seen in years,
Since the echoing raft of arguments,
Doors slammed, and a flood of tears.

Old Grandpa Bryce had lived in the house
Since thirty odd years before,
He'd worked in the woollen fulling mill
‘Til it closed, just after the War,
His son had drowned in the old mill stream,
Was caught in the paddle wheel,
And Grandpa Bryce was left with the child,
To raise, and be brought to heel.

For Grandpa Bryce was a steely man
Who lived his life by the book,
More like a Prophet, this Abraham
Believed, whatever it took,
That ‘spare the rod and spoil the child'
Would be how that his Grandson learned,
As he laid the rod across Richard's back
‘Til the flesh turned red, and burned.

There was never a ministering angel there
To offer the boy relief,
Only the hard-edged wooden pew
In the church, on a Sunday eve,
And Abraham led the final prayer
In a voice that would damn and blight,
‘Beware you sinners, the Awful God
Will come unseen in the night! '

Richard's mother had died in pain
In the blood of the afterbirth,
She never returned to her home again
But was placed, six foot in the earth,
He never knew of a mother's love,

[...] Read more

poem by David Lewis Paget
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Diplomatist

I live on Canada en Bas —
De fines' lan' you see —
An' Oncle Sam, a fr'en of mine,
He live nex' door to me.

Now, long tam' Sam an' me mak' trade,
W'enever that we meet,
An' Sam, he drive de bargain hard,
Sometime bigarre! he sheat.

I not say mooch about it, me,
I never t'ink no harm
Before I fin' mon Oncle Sam
He wan' my little farm.

An' w'en I not to heem will give
De lan' my fader hown,
Den Sam get mad an' say to me,
'I'll play my hand alone.

You kip away; I not will trade,
Don' come my place about!'
Ah! den I see hees leetle game
Was w'at you call 'freeze-hout.'

Mais, I can stan' de fros', for hice
To me is not'ing new;
Sir John mak' freeze agains' de Yanks —
See if dey lak' it, too.

But w'en Sir John t'row up his han'
An' die, 'twas change indeed;
No par'ner lef' could follow up
De fin' ole chieftain's lead.

An' de Canadian peup' was tire,
For dey was not mooch please
For pay big price for jus' to nurse
Les enfants industries.

Dey say, 'We wan' to buy our t'ing
On some mooch sheaper shop,
Dose enfants industries are sure
Long tam' for growing hup.'

For eighteen year dey pull l'argent
From bottom of de purse,
We t'ink it ees long tam' enough
For dem to be on nurse.

[...] Read more

poem by Alexander MacGregor Rose
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Sir Wilfrid Laurier -- Diplomatist

I live on Canada en Bas --
De fines' lan' you see --
An' Oncle Sam, a fr'en of mine,
He live nex' door to me.

Now, long tam' Sam an' me mak' trade,
W'enever that we meet,
An' Sam, he drive de bargain hard,
Sometime bigarre! he sheat.

I not say mooch about it, me,
I never t'ink no harm
Before I fin' mon Oncle Sam
He wan' my little farm.

An' w'en I not to heem will give
De lan' my fader hown,
Den Sam get mad an' say to me,
"I'll play my hand alone.

You kip away; I not will trade,
Don' come my place about!"
Ah! den I see hees leetle game
Was w'at you call "freeze-hout."

Mais, I can stan' de fros', for hice
To me is not'ing new;
Sir John mak' freeze agains' de Yanks --
See if dey lak' it, too.

But w'en Sir John t'row up his han'
An' die, 'twas change indeed;
No par'ner lef' could follow up
De fin' ole chieftain's lead.

An' de Canadian peup' was tire,
For dey was not mooch please
For pay big price for jus' to nurse
Les enfants industries.

Dey say, "We wan' to buy our t'ing
On some mooch sheaper shop,
Dose enfants industries are sure
Long tam' for growing hup."

For eighteen year dey pull l'argent
From bottom of de purse,
We t'ink it ees long tam' enough
For dem to be on nurse.

[...] Read more

poem by Alexander MacGregor Rose
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Marksman Sam

When Sam Small joined the regiment,
'E were no' but a raw recruit,
And they marched 'im away one wint'ry day,
'Is musket course to shoot.

They woke 'im up at the crack o' dawn,
Wi' many a nudge and shake,
'E were dreaming that t' Sergeant 'ad broke 'is neck,
And 'e didn't want to wake.

Lieutenant Bird came on parade,
And chided the lads for mooning,
'E talked in a voice like a pound o' plums,
'Is tonsils needed pruning.

"Move to the right by fours," he said,
Crisp like but most severe,
But Sam didn't know 'is right from 'is left,
So pretended 'e didn't 'ear.

Said Lieutenant, "Sergeant, take this man's name."
The Sergeant took out 'is pencil,
'E were getting ashamed o' taking Sam's name,
And were thinking o' cutting a stencil.

Sam carried a musket, a knapsack and coat,
Spare boots that 'e'd managed to wangle,
A 'atchet, a spade... in fact, as Sam said,
'E'd got everything bar t'kitchen mangle.

"March easy men," Lieutenant cried,
As the musket range grew near,
"March easy me blushing Aunt Fanny," said Sam,
"What a chance with all this 'ere."

When they told 'im to fire at five 'undred yards,
Sam nearly 'ad a fit,
For a six foot wall, or the Albert 'All,
Were all 'e were likely to 'it.

'E'd fitted a cork in 'is musket end,
To keep 'is powder dry,
And 'e didn't remember to take it out,
The first time 'e let fly.

'Is gun went off with a kind o' pop,
Where 'is bullet went no-one knew,
But next day they spoke of a tinker's moke,
Being killed by a cork... in Crewe.

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poem by Marriott Edgar
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Sam's Christmas Pudding

It was Christmas Day in the trenches
In Spain in Penninsular War,
And Sam Small were cleaning his musket
A thing as he'd ne're done before.

They'd had 'em inspected that morning
And Sam had got into disgrace,
For when sergeant had looked down the barrel
A sparrow flew out in his face.

The sergeant reported the matter
To Lieutenant Bird then and there.
Said Lieutenant 'How very disgusting'
The Duke must be told of this 'ere.'

The Duke were upset when he heard
He said, 'I'm astonished, I am.
I must make a most drastic example
There'll be no Christmas pudding for Sam.'

When Sam were informed of his sentence
Surprise, rooted him to the spot.
'Twas much worse than he had expected,
He though as he'd only be shot.

And so he sat cleaning his musket
And polishing barrel and butt.
While the pudding his mother had sent him,
Lay there in the mud at his foot.

Now the centre that Sam's lot were holding
Ran around a place called Badajoz.
Where the Spaniards had put up a bastion
And ooh...! what a bastion it was.

They pounded away all the morning
With canister, grape shot and ball.
But the face of the bastion defied them,
They made no impression at all.

They started again after dinner
Bombarding as hard as they could.
And the Duke brought his own private cannon
But that weren't a ha'pence o' good.

The Duke said, 'Sam, put down thy musket
And help me lay this gun true.'
Sam answered, 'You'd best ask your favours
From them as you give pudding to.'

[...] Read more

poem by Marriott Edgar
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Tough cat Sam is back

Tough cat Sam is making a comeback
he's out running and getting fit
but Jess reckons he's gone crazy
because he's getting on a bit.
A tough young moggy called Spike
has proclaimed that he's the best ever
he's also been bad mouthing Sam
saying that he's thick and not very clever.
So an angry Sam has said yes to a fight
but Spike has said he's going to lose
but Sam has got back into shape
due to his training and cutting out the booze.
The feline boxing world got really excited
and all the tickets quickly sold out
but Spike continued to taunt tough Sam
calling him an old cat and a washed up lout.
Spike was a stocky built Persian
and caught Sam with a fast uppercut
Sam replied with a flurry of jabs
and gave Spike a crafty headbutt.
The fight went on for ten bloody rounds
both cats were out on their feet
Spike tried hard to win the battle
but tough Sam just wouldn't get beat.
Then Sam threw over a mighty right hook
and Spike went out like a light
Sam was the champion once more
which meant he had never lost a fight.
Young Spike was no longer brash and cocky
and accepted that Sam was simply the best
so Sam put his winners cheque in the bank
and went home to Jess for a nice long rest!

poem by Kevin Halls
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