Citatepedia^®.com

Digger Smith

'E calls me Digger; that's 'ow 'e begins.
'E sez 'e's only 'arf a man; an' grins.
Judged be 'is nerve, I'd say 'e was worth two
Uv me an' you.
Then 'e digs 'arf a fag out uv 'is vest,
Borrers me matches, an' I gives 'im best.

The first I 'eard about it Poole told me.
'There is a bloke called Smith at Flood's,' sez 'e;
'Come there this mornin', sez 'e's come to stay,
An' won't go 'way.
Sez 'e was sent there be a pal named Flood;
An' talks uv contracts sealed with Flanders mud.

'No matter wot they say, 'e only grins,'
Sez Poole. ''E's rather wobbly on 'is pins.
Seems like a soldier bloke. An' Peter Begg
'E sez one leg
Works be machinery, but I dunno.
I only know 'e's there an' 'e won't go.

[...] Read more

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Time Kisses Us On Our Cheeks

time kisses us on our cheeks
and fingers our nipples;
time grins at us and we see
we have all come at the wrong time
and at the wrong places;
and when everything is arranged again
like a child moves the toys and dolls and figures at play
we look at one another
and think this is the right place and time
and then
time kisses us on our cheeks
and fingers our nipples;
time grins at us and we see
we have all come at the wrong time
and at the wrong places

poem by Raj Arumugam
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Darkness Within

He stands alone
In the darkness of night
and teases and laughs
at the ghost of my past
he flicks he grins
and throws the
daggers of night
and embedded it deep
inside of my soul
twisting and turning
he grins with delight
at the pain and the agony
my eternal fight
thats apart of my life
what he fails to see
Is me grin back at him
I take on the pain
I take on the fight
he struggles to hold
the darkness within

[...] Read more

poem by Kaila George
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Summer’s Delight

As the sun grins from the sky clear and silent,
Melts the snow covered mountains and sent,
To the hills, to the river, to the sea, thus enter,
Summer is here to act upon the idle of winter.

Once a beach that was dull without a quest,
The waves begun to unravel the frozen sand,
The pelicans’ greetings raised lenient guests,
This is the beauty; the grandeur of this land.

Like the monomania of baseball lovers hear,
Their triumphs from backyards to the parks,
Their roars, their applause, cheer after cheer
Are noises of summer, as it delightfully marks,

The calendar flipped once more on 4th of July,
Freedom is Reason! As smokes from the grill
Trekked up into the sky that we can still smell
Even fireworks bursting, yet no one can deny.

[...] Read more

poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

It's Like That

There were many shadows,
From time to time...
In my mind,
Just hiding there...
In those crevices and cracks.

There were many shadows,
Wearing hats and caps...
And their faked grins...
Following me,
Like that.

There were many shadows,
Seen in my mind.
Shadows I'd see behind,
Other shadows...
Keeping me awake.
I could not shake them.

With messages to deliver.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Futbol

There he is standing on the field, looking around and laughing
he wants to see what you see from the stands, himself basking, charming.
The ball slips from the fingers of a dazzled referee and he kicks out,
deftly he is gliding in and out between his opponents, he is glorious.

Then where has the goal gone that it is no longer before him?
So that he spins around and is aghast and desperate with anxiety?
His opponent grins and lives the sport, he breathes the dance,
and he chants in his heart the reality of his passion, as he flies!

You do not doubt that he is dancing, because his eyes are singing.
He floats above the grass, he lifts his knees high and tumbles low.
He watches from afar as his body works his will like an oiled puppet,
and he is certainly a masterful puppeteer, he grins and slides.

Where did our laughing hero go who was so handsome with the crowd?
He is behind, running to catch up and wondering in shock what happened.
His opponent tips the ball into the air with a gentle kick of the toe.
He positions himself and pirouettes slowly, the ball goes flying.

[...] Read more

poem by Poet Dragon
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Drovers

Shrivelled leather, rusty buckles, and the rot is in our knuckles,
Scorched for months upon the pommel while the brittle rein hung free;
Shrunken eyes that once were lighted with fresh boyhood, dull and blighted—
And the sores upon our eyelids are unpleasant sights to see.
And our hair is thin and dying from the ends, with too long lying
In the night dews on the ashes of the Dry Countree.
Yes, we’ve seen ’em ‘bleaching whitely’ where the salt-bush sparkles brightly,
But their grins were over-friendly, so we passed and let them be.
And we’ve seen them ‘rather recent,’ and we’ve stopped to hide ’em decent
When they weren’t nice to handle and they weren’t too nice to see;
We have heard the dry bones rattle under fifteen hundred cattle—
Seen the rags go up in dust-clouds and the brittle joints kicked free;
But there’s little time to tarry, if you wish to live and marry,
When the cattle shy at something in the Dry Countree.

No, you needn’t fear the blacks on the Never Never tracks—
For the Myall in his freedom’s an uncommon sight to see;
Oh! we do not stick at trifles—and the trackers sneak their rifles,
And go strolling in the gloaming while the sergeant’s yarning free:
Round the Myalls creep the trackers—there’s a sound like firing crackers

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Lawson
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Badger

The badger grunting on his woodland track
With shaggy hide and sharp nose scrowed with black
Roots in the bushes and the woods, and makes
A great high burrow in the ferns and brakes.
With nose on ground he runs an awkward pace,
And anything will beat him in the race.
The shepherd's dog will run him to his den
Followed and hooted by the dogs and men.
The woodman when the hunting comes about
Goes round at night to stop the foxes out
And hurrying through the bushes to the chin
Breaks the old holes, and tumbles headlong in.
When midnight comes a host of dogs and men
Go out and track the badger to his den,
And put a sack within the hole, and lie
Till the old grunting badger passes bye.
He comes and hears—they let the strongest loose.
The old fox hears the noise and drops the goose.
The poacher shoots and hurries from the cry,
And the old hare half wounded buzzes bye.

[...] Read more

poem by John Clare
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Look What You Did, Christopher!

In fourteen hundred and ninety-two,
Someone sailed the ocean blue.
Somebody borrowed the fare in Spain
For a business trip on the bounding main,
And to prove to the people, by actual test,
You could get to the East by sailing West.
Somebody said, Sail on! Sail on!
And studied China and China's lingo,
And cried from the bow, There's China now!
And promptly bumped into San Domingo.
Somebody murmured, Oh dear, oh dear!
I've discovered the Western Hemisphere.

And that, you may think, my friends, was that.
But it wasn't. Not by a fireman's hat.
Well enough wasn't left alone,
And Columbus was only a cornerstone.
There came the Spaniards,
There came the Greeks,
There came the Pilgrims in leather breeks.

[...] Read more

poem by Ogden Nash
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Disillusioned Fuse

Beneath a lamp in Spring-street, on a recent calm spring night,
I came unwittingly upon a most pathetic sight;
A sorry spectacle of woe - a limp, despondent Bloke
Who leaned against a post and sobbed and said his heart was broke!
'I've lorst me trust in 'uman men; I've done me dash ter-day;
Fer my own cobber's done me in, and guv me game away!'

'Nay, nay,' said I, 'cheer up, good Bloke. The prospect may look blue;
But Fate is wont to deal hard knocks to folk like me and you.
Remember, men have fought and won an uphill fight before,
Pray, tell me what's befallen you that you should grieve so sore.
Say, has your wife deserted you, or have you lost your tin?'
But still the Bloke said bitterly: 'Me cobber's done me in!'

'Me moniker's Deakook,' he said, 'but blokes calls me 'The Fuse.'
(Oh, 'struth! I nearly dropped me bundle when I 'eard the noos!)
I gets a job o' work to do - a real soft cop it wus,
With no foreman over me ter see 'ow much I does,
Excep' some coves they calls the Press - a noisy sorter crew
Thet allus nags an' growls at yer no matter watcher do.

[...] Read more

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!