Thursday, February 28, 2013

MY ROBOT by Shel Silverstein

I told my robot to do my biddin'.
He yawned and said, "You must be kiddin'."
I told my robot to cook me a stew.
He said, "I got better things to do."
I told my robot to sweep my shack.
He said, "You want me to strain my back?"
I told my robot to answer the phone.
He said, "I must make some calls of my own.
I told my robot to brew me some tea.
He said, "Why don't you make tea for me?"
I told my robot to boil me an egg.
He said, "First -- lemme hear you beg."
I told my robot, "There's a song you can play me.'
He said, "How much are you gonna pay me?"
So I sold that robot, 'cause I never knew
Exactly who belonged to who.

Furniture Bash by Shel Silverstein

The hand of the clock
Pinched the foot of the bed,
So the foot of the bed
Kicked the seat of the chair,
So the seat of the chair
Sat on the head of the table,
So the head of the table
Bit the leg of the desk,
So the leg of the desk
Bumped the arm of the couch,
So the arm of the couch
Slapped the face of the clock.
And they pinched and they punched
And they banged and they knocked,
And they ripped and they flipped,
And they rolled and they rocked,
And the poor dresser drawer
Got a couple of socks.
There was sawdust and springs
When I turned on the light
After that horrible furniture fight.
And that's the truth, no lie -- no joke.
That's how your furniture
All got broke.

No, thank you...... by Shel Silverstein

No I do not want a kitten,
No cute, cuddly kitty-poo,
No more long hair in my cornflakes,
No more midnight meowing mews.
No more scratchin, snarlin, spitters,
No more sofas clawed to shreds,
No more smell of kitty litter,
No more mousies in my bed.
No I will not take that kitten --
I've had lice and I've had fleas,
I've been scratched and sprayed and bitten,
I've developed allergies.
If you've got an ape, I'll take him,
If you have a lion, that's fine,
If you brought some walking bacon,
Leave him here, I'll treat him kind.
I have room for mice and gerbils,
I have beds for boars and bats,
But please, *please* take away that kitten --
Quick -- 'fore it becomes a cat.
Well ... it is kind of cute at that.

PLUGGING IN by Shel Silverstein

Peg plugged in her 'lectric toothbrush,
Mitch plugged in his steel guitar,
Rick plugged in his CD player,
Liz plugged in her VCR.
Mom plugged in her 'lectric blanket,
Pop plugged in the TV fights,
I plugged in my blower-dryer --
Hey! Who turned out all the lights?

Snowball by Shel Silverstein

I made myself a snowball
As perfect as could be.
I thought I'd keep it as a pet
And let it sleep with me.
I made it some pajamas
And a pillow for its head.
Then last night it ran away,
But first -- it wet the bed.

Monday, February 4, 2013

"Boots" - "Infantry Columns" By Rudyard Kipling

Boots by Rudyard Kipling.


We're foot-slog-slog-slog-sloggin' over Africa -
Foot-foot-foot-foot-sloggin' over Africa -
(Boots-boots-boots-boots-movin' up an' down again!)
There's no discharge in the war!

Seven-six-eleven-five-nine-an'-twenty mile to-day -
Four-eleven-seventeen-thirty-two the day before -
(Boots-boots-boots-boots-movin' up an' down again!)
There's no discharge in the war!

Don't-don't-don't-don't-look at what's in front of you.
(Boots-boots-boots-boots-movin' up an' down again)
Men-men-men-men-men go mad with watchin' em,
An' there's no discharge in the war!

Try-try-try-try-to think o' something different -
Oh-my-God-keep-me from goin' lunatic!
(Boots-boots-boots-boots-movin' up an' down again!)
There's no discharge in the war!

Count-count-count-count-the bullets in the bandoliers.
If-your-eyes-drop-they will get atop o' you!
(Boots-boots-boots-boots-movin' up an' down again) -
There's no discharge in the war!

We-can-stick-out-'unger, thirst, an' weariness,
But-not-not-not-not the chronic sight of 'em -
Boot-boots-boots-boots-movin' up an' down again,
An' there's no discharge in the war!

'Taint-so-bad-by-day because o' company,
But night-brings-long-strings-o' forty thousand million
Boots-boots-boots-boots-movin' up an' down again.
There's no discharge in the war!

I-'ave-marched-six-weeks in 'Ell an' certify
It-is-not-fire-devils, dark, or anything,
But boots-boots-boots-boots-movin' up an' down again,
An' there's no discharge in the war!