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Madam Jane

Money meks us bonny,
Money meks us glad;
Be she auld or ugly,
Money brings a lad.
When I'd ne'er a penny,
De'il a lad hed I--
Pointin ay at Jenny,
Laughin they flew by.

Money causes flatt'ry,
Money meks us vain;
Money changes aw things--
Now I'm Madam Jane.
Sen auld Robby left me
Houses, fields, nit few.
Lads thrang round i' clusters,
I'm a beauty now!

Money meks us merry,
Money meks us bra;

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poem by Robert Anderson
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On a Voluntary Basis

Oh...
I can get dark and thick with it.
I can pluck your nerves...
And nit pick.

I can be all of that which you ask.
I am up to any challenge you have as a task.

Oh...
I can be very sensitive and insincere like you.
And all of those things you have done to me?
Guess who can do them too.

I can be all of that which you ask.
I am up to any challenge you have as a task.

Oh...
I can be full of myself sometimes.
Those times that are mine...
To come along when you are being self centered.

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Poem About Excitement To Something Huge And Spread Like Space

i am tiny, like a nit

wit, and i look at you

spread like wall paper on the wall

something is beautiful there
like a face

something in there excites me
like a pulse on my wrist

i am tiny and i feel so tiny
watching you

like a wall paper on the wall, you
are indifferent

i am excited like a chick hatching from
a shell

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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Parson's Daughter

She always seemed
to be dressed in grey

the parson’s daughter
and had little to say

but there she’d be
on the school bus

each day
a few seats in front

looking out
of the window

and you’d gaze at her
and wonder what thoughts

occupied her mind
and what feelings

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poem by Terry Collett
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Funk

When your marrer bone seems 'oller,
And you're glad you ain't no taller,
And you're all a-shakin' like you 'ad the chills;
When your skin creeps like a pullet's,
And you're duckin' all the bullets,
And you're green as gorgonzola round the gills;
When your legs seem made of jelly,
And you're squeamish in the belly,
And you want to turn about and do a bunk:
For Gawd's sake, kid, don't show it!
Don't let your mateys know it --
You're just sufferin' from funk, funk, funk.

Of course there's no denyin'
That it ain't so easy tryin'
To grin and grip your rifle by the butt,
When the 'ole world rips asunder,
And you sees yer pal go under,
As a bunch of shrapnel sprays 'im on the nut;
I admit it's 'ard contrivin'

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poem by Robert William Service
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Use My Frustration As a Means For Your Motivation

We seem to always seek that need,
To find a comfort feeding to please.
Wishing we were given space...
When it is wanted,
And when it should take place.

Use my frustration,
As a means for your motivation.
You always bring me there,
Without concern or care.
Use my frustration,
In re-inactments as libations.
Use my sweated brow to rehearse...
How to implement your curse!

We seem to find time to criticize,
Those close to us and on our side.
Nit-picking everything they do...
With a disregard of loyalty,
And a devotion shown that's proved!

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ich Hatt' Einen Kameraden (I Had A Comrade)

Ich hatt' einen Kameraden,
Einen bessern findst du nit.
Die Trommel schlug zum Streite,
Er ging an meiner Seite
In gleichem Schritt und Tritt.

Eine Kugel kam geflogen:
Gilt's mir oder gilt es dir?
Ihn hat es weggerissen,
Er liegt vor meinen Füßen
Als wär's ein Stück von mir

Will mir die Hand noch reichen,
Derweil ich eben lad'.
'Kann dir die Hand nicht geben,
Bleib du im ew'gen Leben
Mein guter Kamerad!

I Had a Comrade

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poem by Johann Ludwig Uhland
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A Pot Of Tea

You make it in your mess-tin by the brazier's rosy gleam;
You watch it cloud, then settle amber clear;
You lift it with your bay'nit, and you sniff the fragrant steam;
The very breath of it is ripe with cheer.
You're awful cold and dirty, and a-cursin' of your lot;
You scoff the blushin' 'alf of it, so rich and rippin' 'ot;
It bucks you up like anythink, just seems to touch the spot:
God bless the man that first discovered Tea!

Since I came out to fight in France, which ain't the other day,
I think I've drunk enough to float a barge;
All kinds of fancy foreign dope, from caffy and doo lay,
To rum they serves you out before a charge.
In back rooms of estaminays I've gurgled pints of cham;
I've swilled down mugs of cider till I've felt a bloomin' dam;
But 'struth! they all ain't in it with the vintage of Assam:
God bless the man that first invented Tea!

I think them lazy lumps o' gods wot kips on asphodel
Swigs nectar that's a flavour of Oolong;

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poem by Robert William Service
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The Bachelor's Soliloquy

To wed, or not to wed; that is the question;
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The bills and house rent of a wedded fortune,
Or to say "nit" when she proposes,
And by declining cut her. To wed; to smoke
No more; And have a wife at home to mend
The holes in socks and shirts
And underwear and so forth. 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To wed for life;
To wed; perchance to fight; ay, there's the rub;
For in that married life what fights may come,
When we have honeymooning ceased
Must give us pause; there's the respect
That makes the joy of single life.
For who would bear her mother's scornful tongue,
Canned goods for tea, the dying furnace fire;
The pangs of sleepless nights when baby cries;
The pain of barking shins upon a chair and
Closing waists that button down the back,
When he himself might all these troubles shirk

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poem by Edgar Albert Guest
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Address to a Haggis

Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o' the puddin'-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak yer place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy o' a grace
As lang's my airm.

The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad help to mend a mill
In time o need,
While thro your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.

His knife see rustic Labour dicht,
An cut you up wi ready slicht,
Trenching your gushing entrails bricht,
Like onie ditch;
And then, Oh what a glorious sicht,
Warm-reekin, rich!

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poem by Robert Burns
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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