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Big fleas have little fleas upon their backs to bite them, and little fleas have lesser fleas, and so ad infinitum.
I'm horrified of lobsters. And shrimp and lobsters are the cockroaches of the ocean.
quote by Brooke Burke
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lobster Berries
It’s the funniest thing
you’ve ever seen,
when Lobsters are fresh
they’re always green, .
But when they are cooked
all juicy and dead
they change from green
to a very bright red
Now raspberries aren’t lobsters
if you know what I mean…
in case you’ve wondered-
they are red when they are green.
Think about it…
poem by John Keefe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fleas, lice
fleas, lice
the cat too
fleeing me
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fleas
My thoughts are like fleas,
Eternally skipping.
I try as I please
To prevent their slipping,
To probe them for more meant
Than my wit can utter;
But out of the torment
They quiver and flutter,
Dance, sparkle, and vanish
With insolent ease.
To hold or to banish
My thoughts are like fleas.
poem by Gamaliel Bradford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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They Rode My Back Like Hungry Fleas
The teachers I initially had,
Earlier in my developing life...
I despised.
Yes.
I thought them to be insensitive and mean.
And I held onto that belief,
With thoughts they were purposely picking on me.
And it took me years to realize their critiques,
Were from expectations they wanted me to reach.
They knew inside me I can and could do better.
They knew inside me an opportunity,
I did not then see.
But a pushing with their efforts increased my abilities.
The teachers I initially had,
Earlier in my developing life...
I despised.
Yes.
I thought them to be insensitive and mean.
And I held onto that belief,
With thoughts they were purposely picking on me.
Just to ride on my back like a pack of hungry fleas.
'Mister Pertillar?
I've read your essay...
'They Rode My Back Like A Pack Of Hungry Roaches'.
Change 'roaches' to 'fleas'.
Fleas are blood suckers.'
But...
My essay is about teachers I hate.
'I hate roaches too!
However...
If you accept my recommendation,
You will eventually come to realize...
The usage of 'fleas' will have a uniqueness.
And a far better bite.
I suggest...
'They Rode My Back Like Hungry Fleas''
There is no pleasing 'you' people,
Is it?
'Excuse me?
What did you say? '
They Rode My Back Like Hungry Fleas.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our Pet's Pets
Suddenly our old cat's a spring chicken,
He's leaping about like a kitten,
It seems much more frequent,
The need for some treatment,
The fleas make him jump when he's bitten.
I'm a flea on the back of your cat,
And I'm not very happy with that,
I know I'm not blameless,
But don't make me homeless,
I don't earn enough for a flat.
Well I am the cat in the question,
Trying to make an impression,
There's no bed and breakfast,
For fleas that are downcast,
Regardless that there's a recession.
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mock Turtle Song
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
Don't you see how eagerly the turtles and the lobsters all advance
They are waiting on the shingle, won't you come and join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?
(3x)
You can really have no notion how delightful it will be
When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters in the 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
[Chorus]
(2x)
[Solo]
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
[Chorus]
(repeat to fade)
--Lewis Carroll, "Alice in Wonderland"--
song performed by by Steely Dan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rondeau
Fleas, stink, pigs, mold,
The gist of the Bohemian soul,
Bread and salted fish and cold.
Leeks, and cabbage three days old,
Smoked meat, as hard and black as coal;
Fleas, stink, pigs, mold.
Twenty eating from one bowl,
A bitter drink -it's beer, I'm told-
Bad sleep on a straw in some filthy hole,
Fleas, stink, pigs, mold,
The gist of the Bohemian soul,
Bread and salted fish and cold.
poem by Eustache Deschamps
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hey, we all have our fear. Mine is bugs and lobsters!
quote by Brooke Burke
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Australia's Pride
Now Pat Ahearne, of Ingleburn
Upon the Castlereagh,
Was flush of cash and very "flash"
As shearer-persons say.
At Yankee grab his luck was cool,
At loo he'd lately scooped the pool;
He'd simply smashed the two-up school -
[Assisted by a "grey!"]
And Pat grew then like other men,
His head began to swell;
As he was fly he thought he'd try
The Sydney folks as well.
"Their chances would be mighty slim
Of working any points on him,
When Euchre Bill and Ginger Jim
Had found he was a sell!"
But bushmen's games are not the games
That Sydney spielers play;
A country smarty's "just their dart,"
The city sharpers say.
And Patrick he was taken down
For all he had, but half-a-crown,
Before he'd been in Sydney town
For more than half a day!
'Twas well for Pat, the shearer, that
He'd had the sense to pay
His fare's return to Ingleburn
Before he went away.
It's not what you could call a joke
To find yourself completely "broke";
But Patrick had a splendid stroke
In store for Castlereagh!
He found a shop - an oyster-shop -
Where lobster, crab and cray
Were all alive, and seemed to thrive;
And purchased straight-away
Some crayfish and some lobsters, too
(Such things are cheap in Woolloomooloo),
And caught the Western mail that flew
Towards the Castlereagh.
The train was crowded; which allowed
No sleeping on the trip.
Pat had a flask, and thought to ask
The men to take a nip.
Just then a lobster chanced to find
The bag unclosed, and, feeling kind,
It gave a man a nip; but mind,
It was not on the trip!
And then some crayfish got away,
With lobsters, two or three;
And sundry grips and divers nips
Made things extremely free.
Profane expressions filled the air
(Disgraceful how some people swear!);
A livelier time than Pat had there
You would not wish to see!
A great hooray! the ladies, they
Declared it was a plot,
Beyond a doubt, to drive them out.
But leave? No, they would not;
They swore that they would clear the coast,
Or else the guard should lose his post;
But women always are a most
Unreasonable lot!
On Pat's return to Ingleburn
The shell-fish were in tow,
And things were gay on Castlereagh
Preparing for the Show.
For every township in the scrub
That owns two churches and a pub
Must run a Show and draw a sub.
From Goldsbrough, Mort and Co.!
Now shell-fish are extremely rare
Upon the Castlereagh,
And Ingleburn galoots don't yearn
For lobster or for cray.
Lobsters indeed they'd never seen,
And never might, had it not been
For Pat Ahearne, and he was mean
Enough to make them pay!
On lucre bent he hired a tent
And made a rise with ease.
'Twas at the Show, of course, you know
Where side-shows always please.
The shell-fish they were placed inside,
And Pat stood by the door and cried:
"Walk in and see Australia's Pride -
The monster Sydney fleas!"
poem by William Thomas Goodge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lobster For Lunch
His face was like a lobster red,
His legs were white as mayonnaise:
"I've had a jolly lunch," he said,
That Englishman of pleasant ways.
"Thy do us well at our hotel:
In England food is dull these days."
"We had a big langouste for lunch.
I almost ate the whole of it.
And now I'll smoke and read my Punch,
And maybe siesta a bit;
And then I'll plunge into the sea
And get an appetite for tea."
We saw him plunge into the sea,
With jolly laugh, his wife and I.
"George does enjoy his food," said she;
"In Leeds lobsters are hard to buy.
How lucky we to have a chance
To spend our holiday in France!"
And so we watched him swim and swim
So far and far we scarce could see,
Until his balding head grew dim;
And then there came his children three,
And we all waited there for him, -
Ah yes, a little anxiously.
But George, alas! came never back.
Of him they failed to find a trace;
His wife and kids are wearing black,
And miss a lot his jolly face . . .
But oh how all the lobsters laugh,
And write in wrack his epitaph.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To A Love Poem You Twitch Your Face
This time,
As a critique of a love poem you
Read my lines and twitch your face
You cannot believe
What I write
that I for once was true
That I can now be true to you
For once I make this plea
Dust off the fleas
Of sin and prejudice
It is me, I once loved you,
And you knew
It was true but you never believed it,
it is me now, ready to love you again
My love,
Love changes everything
And that does not exclude me,
Do stamp your feet now
Crush all those fleas
And do not twitch your face,
hear me, strike me, i deserve
the punishment
having left you
long time ago
This is me
Ready to love you again, this is my plea.
please listen, spare, speak to me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When I get a chance to play golf or go on a boat with good people, take the boat out and put some lobsters on the grill, get the ice-cold beer and the cigars - that's heaven here on earth.
quote by Bernie Mac
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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If you lie down with dogs, you'll get up with fleas.
If you lie down with dogs, you will get up with fleas.