Oh, Chicken Boo,
who are you
in your inadequate disguise?
You’re a chicken, what a surprise!
Consider the man in the street if you will
what's he doing there standing stock-still
maybe like the chicken he's crossing the road
and half-way over with nothing better to do
only slowed to admire the view
perhaps he's pushing his luck
for remaining stationary no doubt about it
he'll be hit by a van car lorry or truck
let's hope it's not so as hearing them coming
the man in the street beats a hasty retreat
making hay he hits the ground running
and his narrow escape's a clean getaway
to dawdle or dilly-dally down all his days
no blink, no bluff—
just rust-bitten bikes
on a gravel road,
grip slipping, brakes optional.
we called it honing our craft,
we didn’t dodge.
we needed the crash—
proof we meant it,
authentication we weren’t just
trading truths for dopamine
and DMs.
some bicycles
are built to survive
impact.
mine wasn’t one of them.
Why did the chicken cross Abbey Road?
Because it was there,
but which came first?
Obviously, not the egg,
as it has no legs.
The first chicken to cross the road,
feeling peckish,
not one to throw in the towel,
when told, 'Walk, don't run a fowl,'
and, faster than a speeding pullet,
or so it is said,
was one giant leap for poultry,
one small step
for a Rhode Island Red.
But, by the look on the freckled face
of the old speckled hen,
arriving alive on the other side,
her tranquility was not expanded,
when she heard the words announced,
'The Eagle has landed!'
What are you all quacking about?
In just a little rain, no one is hurt
Let’s do the chicken splash together
Ignore splatters of mud from those puddles.
Splash or quack, splash or quack
Wear your boots and dance, let’s all rock!
Rain is God’s blessing, thank Him back!
In a prayer-squat, walk like chicken not duck.
Let’s do the chicken splash
Merriment under the rain is free, no cash!
Stamp your feet together on the ground
Feel the coldness of swashing sound.
The charcoal clouds melt in the scorched sky,
serenading summer drizzle descends
with the fascinating flotilla in the arid air.
The spectrum of the setting scarlet sun
sparkles in the slant spray of the raindrops,
soaking the singed malachite meadow,
as pristine petrichor exudes in amber ambiance.
The raindrops cascade in soft musical torrent
in the misty puddle, spreading in my pasture.
I feel the nostalgic delight of my youth return.
The little pool morphs into glistening ballroom floor
for the aquatic ballet of the rolling rills.
I hear the silent symphony of the melodic past
in the rhythm of the raindrop dance.
From the barnyard comes a hopping fawn bird,
with spread-out wings flapping in the drizzle
the chicken squawks the tune of waltz for me.
So, I join her doing the feathered twirl,
spinning around together with slippery slide.
I tap my toes as she splatters the muddy water,
bringing back my younger days of joyful chicken splash.
Let's do the Chicken Splash,
More than just the Monster Mash,
Fingerlickin' chicken hash,
Swingers do the Chicken Splash.
Chicken, chicken, chicken chow,
Makes me want to dance somehow,
Chicken this and chicken that,
Makes me Charlie Chicken fat.
In the wind, the sun, or rain,
Chicken splash is fun to feign,
Underneath the stars at night,
Chicken splash is pure delight.
Grab your chicken, doe si doe,
Swing your pickin', make it so,
Hug her high and catch a rash,
When you try the Chicken Splash.
Now it's time to splash for free,
Like the Chicken of the Sea,
See them play and say "let's thrash",
As we dance all day and splash.
Flashing, dashing, fish are splashing,
Splishing, splashing, some are stashing,
Some are likely liking licken',
As for me, I splash for chicken.
Are you an internet duck or chick?
Do your webbed feet do the trick?
Or do they really get you down
Along with your feathers brown?
Perhaps we could just enjoy this heavy shower
Together and have one long happy hour
So, you turned on the news,
and it gave you the blues,
and you almost hurled,
at who's leading the free world,
and your teeth are grit tight,
on explosive dynamite,
and the world's so sad,
and you're feeling bad,
and you have drowning fears,
in the flooding of your tears?
Well...
Cheer up buddy!
Don't do nothin' rash.
Take your flattened feet,
and do the splash!
Chickens are doing it
for miles around!
They're all doin' it
to the bawk b'bawk sound.
You say, you're not a chicken -
you're a duck?
Don't be thinkin'
you're out of luck.
You've got flappy feet -
tap out a rhyme!
Soon you'll be splashin'
in chicken time.
Whenever I'm thinking
WTF,
I think like a chicken
or a duck,
and I dance to the hit
that's a smash.
I get down and do
the Chicken Splash.
What are you all quacking about!
A little rain never hurt anyone!
Let's do the chicken splash together.
No raincoats or umbrellas are needed,
just a ducky spirit with attitude.
Do not reply if you are afraid to get wet,
or if you want to be a bore.
Now for some rain fun!
Put your right web foot in,
now put your left wed foot in.
Back up and do it again.
All together we will do the chicken splash,
one, two, three, now jump in the puddle.
Is everyone good and wet?
Then we did the chicken splash,
the ducky way.
Put on your palmate feet come dance in a flash
you don't need know-how, you don't need cash
if you love to quack
and you got the knack
then let me show you how to do the chicken splash
Walla walla hoo hoo hooray
isn't it a lovely day
Walla walla choobidoo-doo
soon you won't be feeling blue !
A holiday tradition,
Christmas time with Dad.
A gourmet appetizer.
Chicken livers cooked,
with sherry, garlic.
Keep cold to-
spread
Tender chicken breast filets
Lightly dredged in flour
Sauteed then simmered in sauce
lemon and capers
served o'er spaghetti
Romano
cheese
Children love homemade food.
Crispy rice in oven.
Camp bed of curry sauce
Chanterelles are self-picked,
clean under cold water.
Common sense - healthy food.
"Crème de la Crème"
My husband likes chicken fried steak
I am not fond of it
But I like the potatoes and gravy on top
I decided to give the chicken another try
It was not for me, so I cut it into sixths for our dogs.
They both turned up their noses at it.
Is it that they are too well fed
Or their taste buds think what my taste buds think?
They must have had chicken fried steak once before.
Neither of them would even try it.
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