Money Honey that's ah-fact
Doo Woop ooh we
with me that's where
it's at!
Do my thing
sing and dance
right by me
Baby take that chance!
Love songs
I sing too!
A love of me
ah love of me and you!
They They in We
the Me in Us
We together BBaby, What's the fuss?
Get it right
it's me and You
What better than Us
Now what you Gonna Do?
-------------------------------------------
It's why he here!
Come on Now!
Like when I do this?
Sounds sweetest thou
get it right
aint no fiction
It's us tonight
the Lovers Rendition!
-------------------------------------------------
Stressing Guessing and fussing
--------------------------------------
She is evasive due to several factors.
I think she is cheating
or having an emotional link
with someone on the same level as
her husband. He wants to procreate
it's not the right time for her
due to her career goals.
The communication barrier maybe
faux, due to she has brothers and has
been married before.
She loves him there love is
strong and enduring. They are musician
also. They use alot of different terms
to get the song and sound right.
I love it when they take time to
find the tempo, the style
and language and culture of something.
Without blame they express there
feeling and they fact minded. But
Her complete loyalty to her husband
is in doubt,
she's 88/100 he's 98/100
she needs to tally up and catch up
she they can be normally happy and stay married
!
Our Nordic God run roughshod by the cynics
Mimics all those skeptics & pundits in pulpits
Sod odd bod critics clinics their unfair optics
Hysterics but Bazball clerics are not yet relics
Despite batting lapse alright collapse specifics
The insult not horrific result of cult’s gimmicks
Got it wrong will still sing same mesmeric song lyrics
Twits witticisms & criticisms taken a toll…troll gits
Shaken has Bazball forsaken its soul..drole misfits
No more stealth or self control just abysmal skits
Dismal death roll rigmarole gambits whole Bazball in bits?
On the dole or run rate wealth in rude health call it quits
Flits their way to play their flair hits as prole media spits
Grandstand Baz Ben stable fable big band brand label fits
Aussies canned.. gawking Larrikin ti*s balking..its the pits
Goal corking victory at the Gabba hoodoo fortress venue
Folks blabber talking of Stokes blokes stalking voodoo
Oz jibber jabber fibber distress as we made history..phew
Yes JuJu mystery temptress played express Yabba Dabba Doo!
It began at midnight...a slow, steady, drip!
Taunting me, haunting me, testing my patience.
A constant, rhythmic, drip, Drip, DRIP!
Gah! Do I get up and deal with it, or roll over and bury my head in the pillow?
Eventually, those little drips started to crescendo into an evil percussionist!
An Ogre playing timpani drums in my head!
COME ON! I've gotta get up for work in the A.M.!
But now, the drip, drip, drip, is going, Boom!...Boom!...Boom!
Who knew that something as small as a few water drops,
could have such a deep voice and could bark baritone all night!
One pillow deep...Nada!
Two pillows deep...AAH!, I Hate You!...SHUT...UP!!!
Just as I was about to start breaking things...
Something curious happened, the timpani drums slowed tempo slightly,
and began to lull, hypnotize, and then serenade.
I felt myself sinking into the void, like being sucked under in quicksand.
The rhythm rocked me to sleep, like I was back in the cradle,
gently pushing me further into the further, until...Aah!, finally...Dreamland!
You know what?...screw calling the plumber!
In real missile defense
There is this notion
These are native to you
And these are foreigner
SVOI CHUZHOI
In Russian language
This missile is GOI
There was this shameful event
VINCENNES
And we hit AIRPLANE
passenger iran 655
It was HUMAN MISTAKE
it wasn't intended
but it is victimizing
via bias of people
taking action for a sign
I hate myself for this mistake
MY THE COMMANDER
MISS make take
try solving this as psychiatrist
as spy as physicist
BUT DO
I hate being looping in this hook forever
where is this deepest depth the dag
THE SCOOBY DOO
Classical is from the Middle Ages
in the mid-1940's we had Bebop
a fast-tempo 19th / 20th century Jazz
then along came Doo-wop
with group harmonies
the 50's brought us rock and roll
which developed the 1960's
(sad to say) Disco and its glitter ball
then psychedelic pop rock
blues and folk rock
and in the 1970's it was Hip-hop
and also Rap
which was misspelt
it should read 'Crap'
the 1980's were synthesised
1990's gave us Garage and Grunge
2020's saw online streaming
by the record industry which makes me cringe
Country music (C&W) too (hit or flop)
I know it's true I left out (Reggae) more than a few
but no matter the genre tempo or key
the self-same seven notes do it for eclectic me
Starching my hair with Dippity Doo
It stood up like a figurehead too
It was a contest between me and Lou
To see what strange things our hair could do
Dippity Doo Dippity Doo
I loved you so much, you smelled good too
Swirling my finger inside your bowl
Gave me a little uplift for my soul
There once was a chicken called ‘Polly’,
whose name sounded happy and jolly,
‘til one morning at two,
she crowed, “cock-a-doo,”
now our chook is a rooster called Wally.
We dance to the bohemian sixties, wild and free
Sang out the teased up high hair trio of three
We call it the triple cat do, the triple cat do.
Stand back as we meow and mew all over you.
I had not met them before, but they were scary to me
So I hid in the closet as they twirled with glee
Their hair piled high on top of each skinny head.
Each one of them looked like she wore a cat, stiff and dead.
Oh, yes, we are dancing the triple cat do, the triple cat do.
Stand back they warned the crowd. We are coming for you!
A taxidermist might have known what to do.
I turned tail and ran from the Triple Cat Doo.
Life’s not all fun and games, no sir -
even war games under the waxing sun.
Cock-a-doodle-doo day after day
as the ground gives way to waves.
And we wave goodbye, have another cry,
blame the other guy, don’t even try
to figure out the way to God’s heart.
After all, your god, is a god of war.
Whatever side you’re on, you figure
he’s on your side too. Zap that chap,
have no mercy. The nails had no mercy.
The thorns had no mercy. Christ’s blood
soaked the soil. We till and toil,
we live, we die - day after day.
doo little doo little doo little doo stroking with fire
the strums of the sweet mandolin delight and inspire
with a dash and a splash you appear on the horizon alive
I hear your music, and I know that you are on your way Clive
I am pleased with your progress, I so adore your song
you listen with your heart, and you are rarely ever wrong
doo little doo little doo making music with bellows
I love hearing your progress, you delight me to my toes
Oh, how I doo love a didge..
Toned like one of many voices of our great Mother Earth; entrancing and slightly shamanic.
It's how I imagine She hums to Herself, deep in Her rhythmic, rumbling ground.
There's something about the way that humble, all consuming sound
resonates right through my whole body and mind -
I cannot help but find it both soothing and simulating at the same time..
There's nothing quite like how, when one is played really well,
I feel like its vibration is emancipating my soul from every cell.
Give me a long, hollow piece of wood any day.
And someone to breathe down it in that special, circular way.
Put a good rhythm on their tongue,
and let The Love inflate their lungs,
and I'd more than happily spend from dawn 'til dusk
laid flat,
heart open, eyes closed,
being didgeridoo'd at.
With a whoop dee doo and a whip dee day
I saved my sweet bunny from an owl today
The predator left angry, I said “shoo! Go away!”
The butterflies followed, for they love to play.
[Mr Google assures me that the plural of Dodo is dodos or dodoes]
Do dodos do doo doos
Not any more
But dodos did do doo doos
They did doo doos on the floor
But dodos doing doo doos
Dropping doo doos on your head
Means dodos dropping doo doos
Makes me glad the dodo’s dead
Do dodos do disclaimers
Do those dodos dare deny
That dodos do do doo doos
From high up in the sky
Dodos don’t do doo doos
That drop down upon your head
They can’t fly, they’re three feet high
And like I said… they’re dead
Well, Zippity Doo Da Day
It's an absolutely beautiful day
The sun is shining ever so brightly
What more is there to say?
It's just like winning the lottery
Feeling great about my health
What more could I really ask for
Don't need a bunch of wealth
This may seem a bit over the top
These phrases dripping with honey
But hey that's how I'm feeling right now
Can't change that for paper money
I really wish I could transfer some
Maybe scrape off a layer or two
Gladly share it with my poetry friends
'Cause you guys are all true blue
You support me when I'm feeling down
Though that doesn't happen often
You send me bouquets tied up in rhyme
Surely couldn't help but soften
Why am I blessed with this happy stuff
While others are feeling despair?
It really doesn't seem quite right to me
It really doesn't seem quite fair
Don't know where it all originated
So I'll sing Zippity Doo Da Day!
Enjoy this gift that I share with you
On this absolutely beautiful day!
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