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Robert of Lincoln

Merrily swinging on brier and weed,
Near to the nest of his little dame,
Over the mountain-side or mead,
Robert of Lincoln is telling his name.
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink,
Snug and safe is this nest of ours,
Hidden among the summer flowers.
Chee, chee, chee.

Robert of Lincoln is gayly dressed,
Wearing a bright, black wedding-coat;
White are his shoulders, and white his crest,
Hear him call in his merry note,
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink,
Look what a nice, new coat is mine;
Sure there was never a bird so fine.
Chee, chee, chee.

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poem by William Cullen Bryant
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Newpower Soul

2 the darkness - let there be light
2 the soundman - turn up my voice real tight
2 the n.p.g. - if u in this mother, scream
Show me how u all get down - 1 2 3, come on
Get freaky, let the head bob {x2}
We should all come 2gether 2 the newpower soul
Get freaky, let the head bob {x2} (come on, come on)
Itll make u feel much better - come on, baby, lets go!
Every while in a great once there comes 2 town a show
That lives up 2 all your funkspectation no matter how high or low
A reason 2 get your freak on in a way u never freaked before
Newpower soul lay claim 2 the booty - come on, lets go
(lemme see u get down)
Let the head bob
Get freaky, let the head bob (come on, come on)
We should all come 2gether 2 the newpower soul
(lemme see u get down)
Let the head bob
Get freaky, let the head bob {x2} (come on, come on)
Itll make u feel much better - come on, baby, lets go!

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song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Bob

SINGER of songs of the hills—
Dreamer, by waters unstirred,
Back in a valley of rills,
Home of the leaf and the bird!—
Read in this fall of the year
Just the compassionate phrase,
Faded with traces of tear,
Written in far-away days:
“Gone is the light of my lap
(Lord, at Thy bidding I bow),
Here is my little one’s cap,
He has no need of it now,
Give it to somebody’s boy—
Somebody’s darling”—she wrote.
Touching was Bob in his joy—
Bob without boots or a coat.

Only a cap; but it gave
Capless and comfortless one
Happiness, bright as the brave,

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poem by Henry Kendall
Added by Poetry Lover
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Today (Watch Me Shine)

Yesterday is just a dream I don't remember
Tomorrow, still a hope I've yet to endure
I'm out of time
I'm out of rhyme
I'm out of reason
Season's change and leave me out in the cold
The story's old
The tale been told by many a scholar
Got a fistful of dollar
And pocketful of love
God above if you hear me cryin'
I've tried to sell my soul
But no one's buyin'
Lord, strike me down now if I'm lyin' Bronx Style Bob: Lord strike me down (X3)
It's gettin' cold
It's time for dyin'
CHORUS
Come on and watch me shine
Like the world is mine (check it out) today
Come on and watch me shine (check it out)

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song performed by Everlast
Added by Lucian Velea
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Battered Bob

HE WAS working on a station in the Western when I knew him,
And he came from Conongamo, up the old surveyors’ track,
And the fellows all admitted that no man in Vic. could ‘do him,’
Since he’d smothered Stonewall Menzie, also Anderson, the black.
Bob was modelled for a fighter, but he’d run to beef a trifle;
For his science every rouseabout was satisfied to vouch,
And Red Fogarty advised us he delivered like a rifle,
And his stopping—well, beside him Harry Sallars was a slouch.

Not a man of us had met him till he settled on the station—
This was early in the Sixties, what we call the good old days—
And it’s cheerfully admitted Robert owed his reputation
To a crippled jaw, a broken nose, and eyes that looked both ways.
We were certain on the face of it our guess was not an error,
Every feature of his phiz was marked, his chin was pulled askew,
And The Critic passed the office: ‘Bet your buttons he’s a terror!
That’s the man who hammered Kelly on The Creek in Fifty-two!’

Bob was not a shrinking blossom, and he held the first impressions
By his subsequent admissions to the ringers and the mugs,

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poem by Edward George Dyson
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Outshining the Sun.

Bob West said
why are you always

looking towards
the girl's playground?

Looking for someone
you replied

who? Bob asked
A girl who gets

on my school bus
Bob pulled a face

and combed
his black oily hair

is she good looking?
Like an angel

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poem by Terry Collett
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Make Promises to Keep

Make promises to keep!

Breaking a promise,
Is like kissing away one's integrity.
In fact,
Those who break promises,
Should not make claims
Of knowing what integrity means.

However,
There are certain instances
In which good intensions
Are misunderstood for keeping a promise.
One, if made, should be kept as should!

Minding my own business,
As is my custom when visiting friends.
I overheard Bob and Helen in discussion.
About their relationship.
One I regard as ideal.

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Thirty Bob a Week

I couldn't touch a stop and turn a screw,
And set the blooming world a-work for me,
Like such as cut their teeth -- I hope, like you --
On the handle of a skeleton gold key;
I cut mine on a leek, which I eat it every week:
I'm a clerk at thirty bob as you can see.

But I don't allow it's luck and all a toss;
There's no such thing as being starred and crossed;
It's just the power of some to be a boss,
And the bally power of others to be bossed:
I face the music, sir; you bet I ain't a cur;
Strike me lucky if I don't believe I'm lost!

For like a mole I journey in the dark,
A-travelling along the underground
From my Pillar'd Halls and broad Suburbean Park,
To come the daily dull official round;
And home again at night with my pipe all alight,
A-scheming how to count ten bob a pound.

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poem by John Davidson
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Kaddish for Uncle Bob

I was 2

and Uncle Bob came to visit California.
His fuzzy beard & crazy hair is what I remember.
A faded photograph, younger days.
We went to the beach and park.
He smiled a lot.

I was 3
and I wanted to listen to *Uncle Bob’s Tape*
I still have that tape.
It’s now on my iPod...

Bob's Blues Motel

I was 15 in the summer of '86.
Charles Lloyd was rolling heavy
Roland Kirk was blowing wild
Zulu had a picture of Rahsaan on the wall
Was that REALLY 3 axes?

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poem by One Who Waits
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Gwine to Run All Night, or De Camptown Races

1 De Camptown ladies sing dis song -- [Chorus] Doo-dah! doo-dah!
2 [Solo] De Camp-town race-track five miles long -- [Chorus] Oh! doo-dah day!
3 [Solo] I come down dah wid my hat caved in -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
4 I go back home wid a pocket full of tin -- [Chorus] Oh! doo-dah day!

5 Gwine to run all night!
6 Gwine to run all day!
7 I'll bet my money on de bob-tail nag --
8 Somebody bet on de bay.

9 [Solo] De long tail filly and de big black hoss -- [Chorus] Doo-dah! doo-dah!
10 [Solo] Dey fly de track and dey both cut across -- [Chorus] Oh! doo-dah-day!
11 [Solo] De blind hoss sticken in a big mud hole -- [Chorus] Doo-dah! doo-dah!
12 [Solo] Can't touch bottom wid a ten foot pole -- [Chorus] Oh! doo-dah-day!

13 Gwine to run all night!
14 Gwine to run all day!
15 I'll bet my money on de bob-tail nag --
16 Somebody bet on de bay.

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poem by Stephen C. Foster
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