And what if the slug is just a snail dislodged from its own house?
aphorism by Hasier Agirre, translated by Dan Costinaş
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Born to Work
I wasn’t born to work you know,
Not like a snail is born to slime,
Pecuniary incarceration.....
That should be a crime!
I don’t do any damage,
To your veggies or your flowers
Yet I’m bound to work, not free to roam
For years (and by the hour!)
I wasn’t born to work you know,
I’d rather be a snail or slug
Inflated monthly targets
Don’t mean much when you’re a bug.
I know a slug is not a bug
So pedants please stand down,
Poetic licence there I cite,
So loose that crazy frown!
I wasn’t born to work you know,
I’d rather be a flea
On second thoughts though
What I want
Is to be a work free me!
poem by Cathie Tufnail
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Snail Shell
Sir hand
Or is it maam
I fell out of my right place again
And you
Considered me
And now Im where a snail has to be
I want to thank you for putting me back in my snail shell
I want to thank you for putting me back in my snail shell
Was it something you would do for anybody?
Was it what youd only do for me?
I need to know because you see
I want to thank you for putting me back in my snail shell
Friend
Look what you gave
And how can you ever be repaid?
How may I give you a hand
From the position at your feet where I stand?
So let me thank you for putting me back in my snail shell
Id like to thank you for putting me back in my snail shell
Was it something you would do for anybody?
Was it what youd only do for me?
I need to know because you see
I want to thank you for putting me back in my snail shell
Snail shell
Thank you
Snail shell
Thank you
Ah
Ah
Ah
Was it something you would do for anybody?
Was it what youd only do for me?
Or was it something where you acted when you saw the need
And knew that there would be a way the act could be repaid
And so it may, but for today
I want to thank you for putting me back in my snail shell
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Made Me Choose
it was a case of choosing
a stone, a snail, a hammer
i chose the hammer
just that
i never used it to drive a nail
to smash a snail
to break a stone
i chose the hammer and kept it
just that
i left it in the house
(bought a house five years ago)
i walked away
and then i whistled my way
in the woods
just that
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Slug And The Ladybug
The sad, silly slug said to the lovely ladybug,
“Why are you pretty while I have this ugly mug?
I live under a rock since I don’t have a shell.
Because no one likes me, I don’t feel very well.
I’ll just keep living underneath this dirty stone,
All by myself so sadly alone.
The lovely ladybug shook her head and said,
“Sad, silly slug, get out from that awful, stony bed!
Just remember each of us has a place on this earth.
We’re put here for a reason so each of us has worth.
The one to make you happy has to be yourself,
But you’ve put your best friend on a forgotten shelf.
Start by being proud that you are the best slug you’ll ever see.
Don’t compare yourself to others that you’ll never be.
Love yourself, smile and always be kind.
You’ll be surprised how many friends that you’ll find.”
The sad, silly slug had never thought that way before.
He considered himself only a sad, silly slug and nothing more.
When he looked into the brook and smiled, what did he see?
It was a miracle that changed his face so he said happily,
“This smile has found a home in my once sad, lonely heart.
I’m proud of myself and look to each new day’s start.
I’m now happy with myself and proud to be free.
I’ll work hard to make myself the best that I can be.
Just a note of gratitude from this happy, hopeful slug:
He shouted, “With all my heart, thank you, lovely ladybug! ”
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Today I accidentally stepped on a snail on the sidewalk in front of our house. And I thought, I too am like that snail. I build a defensive wall around myself, a 'shell' if you will. But my shell isn't made out of a hard, protective substance. Mine is made out of tinfoil and paper bags.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Snail Goes To Heaven (A One-Act Tragicomedy)
Bare stage. A square neon sign on extreme right which reads: “This way to Heaven”.
Prolonged silence. Enter Snail, moving very slowly throughout the play.
Snail:
I’m a dead snail.
I’m going to Heaven.
I’ve lived for 15 years.
That’s a ripe old age.
I’ve been blessed.
Had a marvellous sex life, you know.
Well, if you know snails
we attract a mate with our slime.
Oh, slime turns me on, baby.
(Snail moves slowly, and then stops.)
Well, maybe I should focus on holy thoughts.
Purity...refined thoughts...you know...
Snail God does not like sex.
Copulation is not exactly what
Snail God meant when Snail God declared:
'Go forth and slime the world;
be ye together...'
Snail God demands purity
so let me be so...
after all, I’m going to Heaven...
a dead snail and moving on to Heaven...
(Snail moves slowly, and then stops.)
Had a precarious life,
you know,
all these 15 years...
A farmer saw me in the grass.
I heard him curse
and he raised his foot to crush me.
Well, unfortunately for him
he stepped on a snake
and the last I heard of the man
was an expletive
and the last I heard of the snake was a hiss.
Yes, I’ve had a long life
a risky life - but it’s all worth it
for an eternal life in Heaven
is my reward
(Snail moves slowly, and then stops.)
(Enter Frog, jumping. Snail looks at Frog in amazement. And Frog stops and looks at Snail in amazement.)
Frog: What are you doing?
Snail: That’s what I was about to ask of you.
Frog: I’m a dead Frog and I’m jumping on my way to Heaven.
Snail: I’m a dead Snail and I’m moving on to Heaven.
Frog: This is ridiculous.
Snail: Indeed. It is ridiculous.
A Frog going to Heaven?
No, for it is truly declared by Snail God:
'None but Snails shall enter Heaven.'
Frog: And in the words of the Frog God:
'I shall confound all other creatures.
Only Frogs shall enter Heaven.'
And so it has come to pass
Snails think they can go to Heaven.
Unless the Frog God
in Its Infinite Wisdom
has arranged for a Dish of Snails
when all Pure Frogs are at Its side in Paradise.
Well, Snail...you’re toast when I see you in Heaven.
(Frog jumps on to near stage right, screaming: “Heaven - here I come! ” and then disappears.)
(Long silence.)
Snail (facing audience) : Well, what next? - The snake to Heaven?
The Farmer to Heaven? His dog to Paradise?
Donkeys to Heaven?
(Snail moves on, in its slow way, to nothing but Heaven...)
poem by Raj Arumugam
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The Flower of Mending
(To Eudora, after I had had certain dire adventures.)
When Dragon-fly would fix his wings,
When Snail would patch his house,
When moths have marred the overcoat
Of tender Mister Mouse,
The pretty creatures go with haste
To the sunlit blue-grass hills
Where the Flower of Mending yields the wax
And webs to help their ills.
The hour the coats are waxed and webbed
They fall into a dream,
And when they wake the ragged robes
Are joined without a seam.
My heart is but a dragon-fly,
My heart is but a mouse,
My heart is but a haughty snail
In a little stony house.
Your hand was honey-comb to heal,
Your voice a web to bind.
You were a Mending Flower to me
To cure my heart and mind.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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The Snail
To grass, or leaf, or fruit, or wall,
The snail sticks close, nor fears to fall,
As if he grew there, house and all
Together.
Within that house secure he hides,
When danger imminent betides
Of storm, or other harm besides
Of weather.
Give but his horns the slightest touch,
His self-collecting power is such,
He shrinks into his house, with much
Displeasure.
Where’er he dwells, he dwells alone,
Except himself has chattels none,
Well satisfied to be his own
Whole treasure.
Thus, hermit-like, his life he leads,
Nor partner of his banquet needs,
And if he meets one, only feeds
The faster.
Who seeks him must be worse than blind,
(He and his house are so combined,)
If, finding it, he fails to find
Its master.
poem by William Cowper
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The 23rd Psalm Of The Lowly Snail
the snail shall not want
it shall lie down in green ponds
it shall reside beside still waters
it shall restore its flesh
it shall be lead in the paths of wetness for your name's sake
it will fear no evil
for you are with it
its hand shall comfort it
and it shall prepare a leaf before it in the presence of all the other insects
its saliva runneth over
it shall anoint its snail with the rainwater
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Self Spent
got this small self
small as a snail
slow
pacing like that old snail
that you know
something that you did not
touch
because of pity
got this tiny conscience
like a speck of dust
it is too small and perhaps
of lesser value
than any other self
in this lonely nook
i do not think anymore
how to spend it well
i got a day
or just a second
and i am spending it all
till i am no more.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A man builds a house in England with the expectation of living in it and leaving it to his children; we shed our houses in America as easily as a snail does his shell.
quote by Harriet Beecher Stowe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm not supposed to talk about the snail. The snail is, well, congratulations to whoever noticed it. It's supposed to be a thing where you gotta look for it in every episode, and it's there three times in every episode.
quote by Steve Burns
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As You Have No Wings
As you have no wings,
I am cutting down mine to please you.
Then we shall snail or walk together
With our eyes fixed at destinations unknown!
You could have told me once
Not to develop wings for myself,
You could have told me twice
That you have had no wings ever.
My wings were my power
Ever have I felt so for long.
But as I cut down them now for you,
My dear, I know I am crippled.
Your limbs have no agility!
Your eyes have no vision!
Your sole hope is me, I know.
But crippled I am!
In the wilderness of these lanes
I know not how to snail or walk on.
You look at me still even as
I remain crippled.
The skies have a charm and
Where they kiss the mountains I was once there
I was wondering to be like them for once
And I am crippled now.
You could have told me
Not to cut down my wings!
But you did never say so.
You ever want to snail or walk with me!
As you have no wings,
I miss to be what I could have been.
As you are wingless ever
Never shall I fly unto my infinite world!
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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A thing that is firmly fixed cannot be dislodged except with much trouble.
The Houses
1898 -- A Song of the Dominions
'Twixt my house and thy house the pathway is broad,
In thy house or my house is half the world's hoard;
By my house and thy house hangs all the world's fate,
On thy house and my house lies half the world's hate.
For my house and thy house no help shall we find
Save thy house and my house -- kin cleaving to kind;
If my house be taken, thine tumbleth anon.
If thy house be forfeit, mine followeth soon.
'Twixt my house and thy house what talk can there be
Of headship or lordship, or service or fee?
Since my house to thy house no greater can send
Than thy house to my house -- friend comforting friend;
And thy house to my house no meaner can bring
Than my house to thy house -- King counselling King.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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The Lobster-Quadrille
'Will you walk a little faster?' said a whiting to a snail,
'There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's treading on my tail.
See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance!
They are waiting on the shingle -- will you come and join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?
'You can really have no notion how delightful it will be
When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to sea!'
But the snail replied 'Too far, too far!' and gave a look askance --
Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance.
Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance.
Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join the dance.
'What matters it how far we go?' his scaly friend replied.
'There is another shore, you know, upon the other side.
The further off from England the nearer is to France --
Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance.
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you joint the dance?
poem by Lewis Carroll
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Hopping and skipping
Do things as well as possible
Instead of as fast as possible.
Don't do two things at a time
And do one thing with mind on it.
It's not the hare turning a snail
But the snail not turning a hare.
Have a stroll instead of a gallop.
Hopping is equal to skipping.
23.09.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Belief
Belief
Oh God if I might fail
then God still you will bless
impress on me that snail
and snake me none the less.
All men ar weak
who do not seek
for, by steadily grounding house
from pain joy shall arouse.
Madrason 09 12 1993
poem by Madrason writer
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Animals' Houses
Of animals' houses
Two sorts are found -
Those which are square ones
And those which are round.
Square is a hen-house,
A kennel, a sty:
Cows have square houses
And so have I.
A snail's shell is curly,
A bird's nest round;
Rabbits have twisty burrows
Underground.
But the fish in the bowl
And the fish at sea -
Their houses are round
As a house can be.
James Reeves
poem by George Redgrave
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Fun Together
slow but sure
but if i fall
i rise again
and begin
anew
slow but sure
like a snail
like a worm
inching my way
to my
destination
i am not in hurry
side by side
with another worm
another snail
oh we're just
having fun
together
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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