Quotes about jim, page 2
If Jim Were Here
If JIM where here right NOW,
Everyone would take a BOW,
For JIM had HONOR, PRIDE and DIGNITY,
For defending his special girl
NAMED Sue-Z… aka Puppet LADY.
Yes, JIM had CHARACTER beyond BELIEF,
By punching men who gave Sue-Z grief.
Yes, JIM is a SOUTHERN BOY,
Who’s BETTER than all the men
he’s ever fought,
for JIM is a GENTLEMEN,
I KID YOU NOT,
For JIM has MORE GUTS and BALLS at 76—
to KICK your ASS without a FLINCH.
Yes, NO more words like “whore”
would be SPOKEN at the RUMSHACK,
for he’ld have your Head and then your ASS,
and it doesn’t matter if your Green, White or Black.
[...] Read more
poem by Christina Sunrise
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If Jim Were Here
If JIM where here right NOW,
Everyone would take a BOW,
For JIM had HONOR, PRIDE and DIGNITY,
For defending his special girl
NAMED Sue-Z… aka Puppet LADY.
Yes, JIM had CHARACTER beyond BELIEF,
By punching men who gave Sue-Z grief.
Yes, JIM is a SOUTHERN BOY,
Who’s BETTER than all the men
he’s ever fought,
[...] Read more
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Jim
(verse):
Why am I sitting alone tonight,
When I could be out where the lights are bright?
Its all because of jim, its all because of jim.
Why am I wasting these precios years?
Why am I crying these bitter tears?
Its all because of jim, its all because of jim.
(chorus):
Jim doesnt ever bring me pretty flowers,
Jim never tries to cheer my lonely hours,
Dont know why Im so crazy for jim.
Jim never tells me Im his hearts desire.
I never seem to set his love afire
Gone are the years Ive wasted on him.
Sometimes when I get feeling low,
I say lets call it quits.
Then I hang on and let him go
Breaking my heart in bits.
Some day I know tht jim will up and leave me,
But even if he does you can believe me,
[...] Read more
song performed by Ella Fitzgerald
Added by Lucian Velea
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Jim Carew
Born of a thoroughbred English race,
Well proportioned and closely knit,
Neat, slim figure and handsome face,
Always ready and always fit,
Hardy and wiry of limb and thew,
That was the ne'er-do-well Jim Carew.
One of the sons of the good old land --
Many a year since his like was known;
Never a game but he took command,
Never a sport but he held his own;
Gained at his college a triple blue --
Good as they make them was Jim Carew.
Came to grief -- was it card or horse?
Nobody asked and nobody cared;
Ship him away to the bush of course,
Ne'er-do-well fellows are easily spared;
Only of women a sorrowing few
Wept at parting from Jim Carew.
Gentleman Jiim on the cattle-camp,
[...] Read more
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Bill and Jim Fall Out
Bill and Jim are mates no longer—they would scorn the name of mate—
Those two bushmen hate each other with a soul-consuming hate;
Yet erstwhile they were as brothers should be (tho’ they never will):
Ne’er were mates to one another half so true as Jim and Bill.
Bill was one of those who have to argue every day or die—
Though, of course, he swore ’twas Jim who always itched to argufy.
They would, on most abstract subjects, contradict each other flat
And at times in lurid language—they were mates in spite of that.
Bill believed the Bible story re the origin of him—
He was sober, he was steady, he was orthodox; while Jim,
Who, we grieve to state, was always getting into drunken scrapes,
Held that man degenerated from degenerated apes.
Bill was British to the backbone, he was loyal through and through;
Jim declared that Blucher’s Prussians won the fight at Waterloo,
And he hoped the coloured races would in time wipe out the white—
And it rather strained their mateship, but it didn’t burst it quite.
They battled round in Maoriland—they saw it through and through—
[...] Read more
poem by Henry Lawson
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Jim's Girl
''Oo is that girl,' sez Digger Smith,
That never seems to bother with
No blokes: the bint with curly 'air?
I've often seen 'er over there
Talkin' to Missus Flood, an' she
Seems like a reel ripe peach to me.
'Not that I'm askin'' ... 'Ere 'is eyes
Goes sort uv swiv'ly, an' 'e sighs.
'Not that I'm askin' with idears
Uv love an' marridge; 'ave no fears.
I've chucked the matrimony plan,'
'E sez. 'I'm only 'arf a man.'
This Digger Smith 'as fairly got
Me rampin' with 'is ''arf a man' rot.
'E 'as a timber leg, it's true;
But 'e can do the work uv two.
Besides, the things 'e's done Out There
Makes 'im one man an' some to spare.
[...] Read more
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Dummy Bridge
'If I'd 'a' played me Jack on that there Ten'
Sez Peter Begg, 'I might 'a' made the lot.'
''Ow could yeh?' barks ole Poole. ''Ow could yeh, when
I 'ad me Queen be'ind?' Sez Begg, 'Wot rot!
I slung away me King to take that trick.
Which one! Say, ain't yer 'ead a trifle thick?'
'Now, don't yeh see that when I plays me King
I give yer Queen a chance, an' lost the slam.'
But Poole, 'e sez 'e don't see no such thing,
So Begg gits 'ot, an' starts to loose a 'Damn.'
'E twigs the missus jist in time to check,
An' makes it 'Dash,' an' gits red down 'is neck.
There's me an' Peter Begg, an' ole man Poole
Neighbours uv mine, that farm a bit close by
Jist once a week or so we makes a school,
An' gives this game uv Dummy Bridge a fly.
Doreen, she 'as her sewing be the fire,
The kid's in bed; an' 'ere's me 'eart's desire.
[...] Read more
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Our Two Opinions
Us two wuz boys when we fell out,--
Nigh to the age uv my youngest now;
Don't rec'lect what't wuz about,
Some small deeff'rence, I'll allow.
Lived next neighbors twenty years,
A-hatin' each other, me 'nd Jim,--
He havin' his opinyin uv me,
'Nd I havin' my opinyin uv him.
Grew up together 'nd would n't speak,
Courted sisters, 'nd marr'd 'em, too;
Tended same meetin'-house oncet a week,
A-hatin' each other through 'nd through!
But when Abe Linkern asked the West
F'r soldiers, we answered,--me 'nd Jim,--
He havin' his opinyin uv me,
'Nd I havin' my opinyin uv him.
But down in Tennessee one night
Ther' wuz sound uv firin' fur away,
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poem by Eugene Field
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Thirty Years After
Two old St. Andrews men, after a separation of nearly thirty years, meet by chance at a wayside inn. They interchange experiences; and at length one of them, who is an admirer of Mr. Swinburne's Poems and Ballads, speaks as follows:
If you were now a bejant,
And I a first year man,
We'd grind and grub together
In every kind of weather,
When Winter's snows were regent,
Or when the Spring began;
If you were now a bejant,
And I a first year man.
If you were what you once were,
And I the same man still,
You'd be the gainer by it,
For you—you can't deny it—
A most uncommon dunce were;
My profit would be nil,
If you were what you once were,
And I the same man still.
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Fisherman jim's kids
Fisherman Jim lived on the hill
With his bonnie wife an' his little boys;
'T wuz "Blow, ye winds, as blow ye will -
Naught we reck of your cold and noise!"
For happy and warm were he an' his,
And he dandled his kids upon his knee
To the song of the sea.
Fisherman Jim would sail all day,
But, when come night, upon the sands
His little kids ran from their play,
Callin' to him an' wavin' their hands;
Though the wind was fresh and the sea was high,
He'd hear'em - you bet - above the roar
Of the waves on the shore!
Once Fisherman Jim sailed into the bay
As the sun went down in a cloudy sky,
And never a kid saw he at play,
And he listened in vain for the welcoming cry.
[...] Read more
poem by Eugene Field
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