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Haste is good only in catching fleas.
quote by Alla Yaroshinskaya
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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.
Nothing should be done in a hurry except catching fleas.
Nothing is ever well done in a hurry, except flying from the plague or from quarrels, and catching fleas.
Life Lost to Fleas
There is so much to it,
Than to just lay down and do it.
In days that have progressed like these,
So many are unconcerned about catching disease.
And it's not only sex that makes these acts senseless.
It's a thoughtlessness accepted with this foolishness!
Today it's easy to lay the blame on someone other than self.
To claim as if temptation can't be resisted...
Is an excuse that sells without the slightest protest!
And jumping into bed just to be physically fed,
Are acts done by those with no shame.
Turning what was done into a game for fun...
Makes finding someone good,
A tastelessness done that is misunderstood!
There is so much to it,
Than to just lay down and do it.
In days that have progressed like these,
So many are unconcerned about catching disease.
And laying down with nasty dogs,
Will not attract butterflies to beautify at all...
To one accustomed to a life lost to fleas,
With regrets that no one is interested...
In contaminated property!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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 Rose
I.
Sweet serene skye-like Flower,
Haste to adorn her Bower :
From thy long clowdy bed,
Shoot forth thy damaske head.
II.
New-startled blush of Flora !
The griefe of pale Aurora,
Who will contest no more ;
Haste, haste, to strowe her floore.
III.
Vermilion Ball that's given
From lip to lip in Heaven ;
Love's Couches cover-led :
Haste, haste, to make her bed.
IV.
Dear Offspring of pleas'd Venus,
And Jollie, plumpe Silenus ;
Haste, haste, to decke the Haire
Of th' only, sweetly Faire.
V.
See ! Rosie is her Bower,
Her floore is all this Flower ;
Her Bed a Rosie nest
By a Bed of Roses prest.
VI.
But early as she dresses,
Why fly you her bright Tresses ?
Ah ! I have found I feare ;
Because her Cheekes are neere.
poem by Richard Lovelace
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Lucasta, the Rose
I.
Sweet serene skye-like flower,
Haste to adorn her bower;
From thy long clowdy bed
Shoot forth thy damaske head.
II.
New-startled blush of Flora!
The griefe of pale Aurora,
Who will contest no more,
Haste, haste, to strowe her floore.
III.
Vermilion ball, that's given
From lip to lip in Heaven;
Loves couches cover-led,
Haste, haste, to make her bed.
IV.
Dear offspring of pleas'd Venus,
And jollie plumpe Silenus;
Haste, haste, to decke the haire,
Of th' only sweetly faire.
V.
See! rosie is her bower,
Her floore is all this flower;
Her bed a rosie nest
By a bed of roses prest.
VI.
But early as she dresses,
Why fly you her bright tresses?
Ah! I have found, I feare;
Because her cheekes are neere.
poem by Richard Lovelace
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Lucasta. The Rose.
I.
Sweet serene skye-like flower,
Haste to adorn her bower;
From thy long clowdy bed
Shoot forth thy damaske head.
II.
New-startled blush of FLORA!
The griefe of pale AURORA,
Who will contest no more,
Haste, haste, to strowe her floore.
III.
Vermilion ball, that's given
From lip to lip in Heaven;
Loves couches cover-led,
Haste, haste, to make her bed.
IV.
Dear offspring of pleas'd VENUS,
And jollie plumpe SILENUS;
Haste, haste, to decke the haire,
Of th' only sweetly faire.
V.
See! rosie is her bower,
Her floore is all this flower;
Her bed a rosie nest
By a bed of roses prest.
VI.
But early as she dresses,
Why fly you her bright tresses?
Ah! I have found, I feare;
Because her cheekes are neere.
poem by Richard Lovelace
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Antenna
I'm the Antenna
Catching vibration
You're the transmitter
Give information!
Wir richten Antennen ins Firmament
Empfaengen die Tone die Niemand kennt
I'm the transmitter
I give information
You're the antenna
Catching vibration
Es Strahlen die Sender Bild Ton und Wort
Elektromagnetisch an jeden Ort
I'm the Antenna
Catching vibration
You're the transmitter
Give information!
Radio Sender und Hoerer sind wir
Spielen im Aether das Wellenklavier
[repeat to fade]
I'm the antenna catching vibration
You're the transmitter give information
I'm the transmitter I give information
You're the antenna catching vibration
song performed by by Kraftwerk
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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Catching The Butterfly
As though you were born
As though you were born
And so you thought
And so you thought
The futures ours
The futures ours
To keep and hold
To keep and hold
A child within
A child within
Has healing ways
Has healing ways
It sees me through
It sees me through
My darkest days
My darkest days
Im gonna keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine
Im gonna keep catching that butterfly
Im gonna keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine
In that dream of mine
Im gonna keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine
In my lucid dreams
In my lucid dreams
In my lucid dreams
Something now? ? ? ?
In my lucid dreams
Through life no fun
I want to feel
I want to run
Something numb
Through life no fun
Im gonna keep catching that butterfly
I want to feel
In that dream of mine
I want to run
Im gonna keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine
Im gonna keep catching that butterfly
In my lucid dreams
In that dream of mine
In my lucid dreams
Im gonna keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine
Im gonna keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine
Keep catching that butterfly
In my lucid dreams
In that dream of mine
In my lucid dreams
Im gonna keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine
Im gonna keep catching that butterfly
Im gonna keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine
In my private dreams
Keep catching that butterfly
In my private dreams
In that dream of mine
In my private dreams
Im gonna keep catching that butterfly
My lucid dreams
In that dream of mine
My forgotten schemes
Im gonna keep catching that butterfly
I see through you
You see through me
I see through you
In my private dreams
You see through me
In my private dreams
Be with me
In my private dreams
Be with me
My lucid dreams
I see through you
My forgotten schemes
You see through me
I see through you
I see through you
You see through me
You see through me
I see through you
You see through me
To be in your eyes
Be with me
To be in your eyes
Be with me
I see through you
You see through me
I see through you
You see through me
To be in your eyes
To be in your eyes
song performed by by Verve
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Child Is This?
What child is this, who laid to rest
on Mary's lap is sleeping?
whom angels greet with anthems sweet
while shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ the King
whom shepherds guard and angels sing
haste, haste to bring him laud
the babe, the son of Mary
Why lies He in such mean state
where ox and and ass are feeding?
good christian, fear for sinners here
the silent word is pleading
this, this is Christ the King
whom shepherds guard and angels sing
haste, haste to bring him laud
the babe, the son of Mary
Nails, spear, shall, pierce him through
the cross be bome, for me, for you
hail, hail, the world made flesh
the babe, the son of Mary
this, this is Christ the King
whom shepherds guard and angels sing
haste, haste to bring him laud
the babe, the son of Mary
So bring him incense, gold and myrrh
come peasant, King to own him
the King of Kings salvation brings
let loving hearts enthrone him
this, this is Christ the King
whom shepherds guard and angels sing
haste, haste to bring him laud
the babe, the son of Mary
Raise, raise, the song on high
the Virgin sings her llullaby
joy, joy for Christ is born
the babe, the son of Mary
this, this is Christ the King
whom shepherds guard and angels sing
haste, haste to bring him laud
the babe, the son of Mary
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peace in Glow
Think of birds with flying colors-
find and feel its immense pleasure,
flying not for any earthly bargain
sky pastures peace, hardly any pain.
Eyes catching up thy show,
peace found in subtle glow!
Sun pops out with silent splash,
spilling red of rinsing paintbrush.
The dawn and dusk palette same hue-
peace newborn pays the end its due.
Minds catching up thy show
peace found in subtle glow!
Buds’ hinting promise of colours
blooming into splendorous flowers
call us all to the peace divine
just to be attuned and be aligned.
Hearts catching up thy show
peace found in subtle glow!
Visions of innocent beauties -
non ephemeral joys in plenty,
cognizance has to be treasured –
precious gifts beyond any measure.
Souls catching up thy show
peace found in subtle glow!
poem by Gautam Sen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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