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Drill Baby Drill
DRILL BABY DRILL
“Oh-oh say can you see”
Any beach-sand oil free
This pollution debris
A gift from corporate B P
DRILL BABY DRILL
This sea-borne disaster
Oil hardened like plaster
Needs a plug-the-leak master
To stop the oil gushing faster
DRILL BABY DRILL
Beautiful pelican creatures
Once with beautiful winged features
Now bogged down in oily slime
No longer enjoy their flying time
DRILL BABY DRILL
B P drilling for profits and dividends
Caused havoc with too many of natures friends
Along with much of the seafaring life
Who share the pelicans’ oily strife
DRILL BABY DRILL
The Gulf of Mexico now in distress
Is due to B P’s preventable oil laden mess
We’ve only one planet so we better beware
No more DRILL BABY DRILL-give Earth its due care
poem by Stanley Cooper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Admit The Rat (Interlude)
I got a story
bout all these rats
all the sewer rats
all these gun rats
im talkin bout all these gold diggen rats
these hood rats
my grandmothers a rat
she's just an old school rat
my mothers a rat
she's just a high class rat
my sisters rats
she's just a middle class rat
my cousins rats
they just low class rats
im tired of rats tryin to get into my boyz pockets
im tired of rats tryin to ride around in my cars
im tired of rats talkin all that jibber jabber to their friends
but ond day these rats are gonna be straight
no diss to rats
cuz there are some rats that i love too
my message to you today is admit the rat in you
to all women admitt the rat in you
admit the rat in you
admit the rat in you
admit the rat in you
song performed by by Next
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Admit The Rat
I got a story
Bout all these rats
All the sewer rats
All these gun rats
Im talkin bout all these gold diggen rats
These hood rats
My grandmothers a rat
Shes just an old school rat
My mothers a rat
Shes just a high class rat
My sisters rats
Shes just a middle class rat
My cousins rats
They just low class rats
Im tired of rats tryin to get into my boyz pockets
Im tired of rats tryin to ride around in my cars
Im tired of rats talkin all that jibber jabber to their friends
But ond day these rats are gonna be straight
No diss to rats
Cuz there are some rats that I love too
My message to you today is admit the rat in you
To all women admitt the rat in you
Admit the rat in you
Admit the rat in you
Admit the rat in you
song performed by by Next
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Slave To The Wage
Run away from all your boredom
Run away from all your whoredom and wave
Your worries and cares
Goodbye
All it takes is one decision
A lot of guts, a little vision to wave
Your worries and cares
Goodbye
Its a maze for rats to try
Its a maze for rats to try
Its a race, a race for rats
A race for rats to die
Its a race, a race for rats
A race for rats to die
Sick and tired of maggies farm
Shes a bitch with broken arms to wave
Your worries and cares
Goodbye
Its a maze for rats to try
Its a maze for rats to try
Its a race, a race for rats
A race for rats to die
Its a race, a race for rats
A race for rats to die
Its a race, a race for rats
A race for rats to die
Its a race, a race for rats
A race for rats to die
Burn away
Run away, run away
Run away, run away
Run away, run away
Run away, run away
song performed by by Placebo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The fact is that we cannot drill our way to independence. We cannot drill our way to freedom, and we cannot drill our way to create jobs in this country.
quote by Jay Inslee
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Night Runners Competition Counted
we enjoy counting the rats
running around at night,
when we are arriving home
on our faithful motorbike,
usually two or three rats to see,
Kayla and I have a competition
counting first spied rats we see,
who can spot local drain rats first
the biggest rats seen truthfully
are as big as healthy pet cats,
we go look at pets frequently
in BSD once a week we peep,
in at a pet shop when we watch,
a movie in expedition BSD every week
a family movie is a special treat,
our two happy daughters think it so neat
our neigbour concreted over their open drain
next door rats love their drains seldom stray,
so less rats outside rats too close we do disdain
rats who venture close in life peril cannot stay,
if any bold rats venture into our house ceiling,
these rats are disposed of poisoned very quickly
our rule is no entry for any rats poison strictly,
tropical rat best learn trespass has no pity feeling.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We didn't have a drill so he would burn the holes through the wood with a metal rod that he heated up in a fire. Can you imagine an ordinary crew doing that?
quote by Marc Singer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Time...
time
drills
into me
like a screw
inching into me
relentlessly
a trail of frayed edges
as it teaches me
to value him
like the tickler
mother has used
that leave behind
time-capsuled
wam memories
drill, drill, drill
drill into me
with your magic
giving me
your magic
in the form of
mother, brother, sister,
friend, heroes and heroines
as i try to keep up
with your adventure
both in and out
time runs, runs, runs
never waits for me
even when i'm
six feet underground
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Slavery of Irony
In the Slavery of Irony
Illegitimate Nouns arrive
and the wall of Other erects
its own wall against
sins covered up
in the pursuit
a better life, middle class
in a zero sum
Stockholm Syndrome Society
where crumbs eat the people
disguised as rats
where rats are seen as another race entirely
People Rats who live off the garbage of prosperity
in India, in China in Mexico
poverty so fierce
that whole generations
are buried in the holes in the garbage
covered over by still more prosperity-garbage coming in
for the rat people to eat and sell;
and when they wander away for even a day
the are fed to the ego of passerbys
who blame them for smelling bad.
This new feudalism is the progress of the 21st century
where we shall all be buried one day in our own garbage
and beneath that collapse that is sure to come.
Even as the Rat People revolt and show up at our doors
some will say 'just a minute, will you' I need to get myself a 'latte.'
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Y - hole- 9+2=11
Lucky at this hole.
Watchout - they steal holes.
WHO-WHO-WHO
Not them - them.
Flowing sands-sands-sands and man.
Catch infinite vibes - MAN.
HOLES-HOLES-HOLES
Gone hole insane, hole insane - PAINS.
Peephole, porthole, volcano hole.
HOLES FOR SALE 'smart guy'.
HOLES FOR SALE 'smart guy'.
Sells nothing - makes money - SMART.
HOLES FOR SALE
LUCKY, , , bought a hole....SMART.
Donut holes-Bagel holes - *FOR SALE*.
Never thought about holes before.
LUCKY, , , at the, , , , ,11 hole.
LUCKY-LUCKY-LUCKY - 'knows'.
HOLES FOR SALE - {sale day}
SALE DAY - SALE DAY - SALE DAY
HOLES FOR SALE
2/27/2009 Joe Poewhit
JESUS SAVES
poem by Joe Poewhit
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Home Truths
Seeking a Truth
The sewers under the abortion clinic
is where successful rats live and only
the strongest survives.
From the bland food of suburbia and
narrow minded excrements, unwilling
given back to the drains and nature.
These big rats have survived to sit by
the top table and be respected as those
who deserves a prize for endurance.
They live on sludge of fetuses, tiny fingers
small, beating hearts; also, clean livers;
and the rats grow and reason as humans
Rich rats now have an army of lesser
rats to defend them, nothing last always,
but for some it ended before it began.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Palm-Kernel-Chain Game
Chain Point One: The big cat may be away
But may appear any day
The Long-whiskered rats
Are pretending
NOW: a bait of palm kernels
Is strategically placed
The big cat
Pretends hiding
The rats
Start telegramming…
The cat is waiting
The rats are
Picking…!
The cat is inputting…
Chain Point Two: Palm kernel is the main gastronomy
And has national distribution-tag
NOW:
The cat is flying
The rats
Are sprinting
The feline rake
Is closing in
Some rats
Are hollering
Gripped furs
Are falling…!
Chain Point Three: Oh no lessons in the inner tray
No baiting chain breaks
NOW:
The big cat is away…
And
Again long-whiskered rats
Rush out
Again to rummage thru
Stately kept pantries
For
Fresh palm kernels
Chain Point One: A big cat may be away…
poem by by unknown author
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Book Of Black Holes
You be on yourside
I'll be on my side
In between there is a book
the book of Black Holes
You sling your arrows
I'll dodge the harrows
And then I'll record it
In the book of Black Holes
There be many pages
that goes through many stages
In the end you may find it
In the book of Black Holes
If it's a five or ten
Even a zero I win
And I have recorded it
In the book of Black Holes
Your comments cryptic
Your words haze, eliptic
And like I said goes down
In the book of Black Holes
Your choice to be insipid
Your dreams are timid
Compared to what's collected
In my book of Black Holes
poem by Midnights Voice
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Drill
WHEN day's hard task's done,
Eve's scant meal partaken,
Out we steal each one,
Weariless, unshaken.
In small reeking squares,
Garbaged plots, we gather,
Little knots and pairs,
Brother, sister, father.
Then the Word is given.
In their silent places
Under lowering heaven,
Range our stern-set faces.
Now we march and wheel
In our clumsy line,
Shouldering sticks for steel,
Thoughts bitter as brine!
Drill, drill, drill, and drill!
It is only thus
Conquer yet we will
Those who've conquered us.
Patience, sisters, mothers!
We must not forget
Foiled dead fathers, brothers;
They must teach us yet.
In that Hour we see,
The Hour of our Desire,
What shall their slayers be?
As the stubble to the fire!
poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
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Rats Of Bikaner
Rats of black and grey
Were scurrying across
the floors of Karni Matha Temple.
Rats are not a scourge there
and people scatter minute eatables.
Munching the grains strewn around,
the fearless rats scamper about
the inner sanctorum of the Goddess.
Where had scuttled off that white rat?
People searched to ferret it out,
but it eludes watch or catch.
The sight of it would bring luck and wealth!
But I saw one in white marble
lying before the idol of Matha.
A strange sanctuary for rats
in that semi-desert land!
Even the dead ones are not given
a quick decent burial with rites.
The Rajputs don’t celebrate the wedding of rats
as we do for asses for abundant rains.
Cats scenting rats don’t enter
and I am sure there is no rat- fever.
People are given preferential visas
as they eat meat, chicken, beaf and fork
and alas, the flesh of rats ignored!
News hadn’t reached Ghazni Mohammed
or else he would have marched to Bikaner
to rob the white rat instead of raiding
again and again that Somnathpur
passing through the desert and marsh.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Lines on London
They once in wilderness did ride
On beast with horn and shaggy hide-
A savage goat or unicorn,
But now parade in uniform ;
As gay as ancient Knight or Lord,
With their grand plumes, and belt and swords.
Their graceful movements at their drill
Doth all with admiration fill,
And the chief glory it was won
By the encampment of London ;
For they at every tournament
For drill are the chief ornament.
So skillfully they sword do wield,
Victorious on every field ;
For victory's graven on their shield
Doth make their rivals for to yield ;
Drill companies they out maneuver
From Newfoundland to Vancouver.
poem by James McIntyre
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To the Trench
Through shell-holes,
puddles of mud,
they trudge.
Over frozen
men in foxholes
they stumble.
Rats dart whistling across the distances.
Dead fingers rain down
& tap on rotting doors.
Signal-rockets,
corpse-lanterns…
To the ditch, to the ditch.
poem by Ernst Toller
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Cat and Bat's Revenge
The day the cat
and the bat
ate the rat
'Now peace b'coz we don't need to fight
for the rat'
said the cat.
'OK.' said the bat who hanging upside down on the wall
his shadow looking grand and tall
but the rats of the other world were scared
b'coz one of them read
the agreement
now the fastest mouse made a plan
to cut the wires of the fan
so it fell on the cat,
but the bat
took the rat and ate all his fat
the rats were frightened
so they sent another robotic rat
to outwit the bat and cat
now the plan was ready
and it was also fine
but unluckily came the bad pine
of the tree
which always helped the cat and the bat flee
from the rats net
which would always fail b'coz of the bat's friend the pine tree
who would help them see
the wicked plans of the rats
and tell them to all the bats
oh poor rats
getting all eaten up by cats(and bats)
then came the wisest rat sniper the 'sniper'
he went and cut the tree
and didn’t let the cat
and the bat flee
he threw a pan
on the fan
which hit the cat
and the bat
on thier heads
so now they are saved
from the cat
and bat
but now what?
here comes a rat
who's on the side of the cat
and the bat
the wisest mouse got him in the team again and put him to deep
sleep
so the cat and the bat
ate the 'EVIL' rat.
poem by by unknown author
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Holes
There's three in the wall from those pictures in the closet
Two in the bedroom from that night I lost it
One deep inside me determined to stay
They don't get any bigger but they don't go away
Holes in and around me I keep falling back into
Holes digging its around me
God knows what I'm gonna do
To fill in these holes left by you
Left by you
I pour drink after drink but nothing hit bottom
I've been on my knees admitted my problem
The love that we made still barely an echo
I'll try anything in these vacant hollow
Holes in and around me I keep falling back into
Holes digging its around me
God knows what I'm gonna do
To fill in these holes left by you
Left by you
There's two through my hands and one through my feet
From this cross that I bare to the day that I see
Its guilt and its blame its shame and its love
song performed by by Rascal Flatts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Staff Meeting at Auschwitz
We dare not tell
the Fuehrer that
we failed to get
the rabbi's wife
to tell us where
the rabbi is so
now we have to
call the plumber.
Tell Old Franz
to bring his drill.
He has a way
with women.
Old Franz
will have to
rod this lady out
so we can ask her
once again
where the rabbi is
and if she still
won't tell us
Franz will have to
rod her out again.
Remember Mrs. Stein,
zaftig in her dirndl?
She wouldn't tell us
where the cantor
and his wife were
hiding till she saw
Old Franz's drill
and then she told us
where they were
and we found 30 more
silent in the attic.
If Mrs. Stein were
still alive, she'd tell
the rabbi's wife
about the drill
and that would
be enough to save
Old Franz a trip.
He's getting weary.
He had to use
a cane the night
he came to call
on Mrs. Stein.
poem by Donal Mahoney
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