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You're Thinking of Me
How can I stay in your mind,
And drench myself with longing?
How can I do this,
When it seems of late...
You have no time for me.
I remember when I could barely finish,
A completed sentence.
And there you were,
Sighing.
Anticipating my next breath.
And now your absence leads me to believe,
You have found someone else to pest.
'Pest?
PEST?
I 'know' you did not say that? '
Ahhh...
The fresh air!
Isn't it sweet?
'Pest?
Did you say I was a pest? '
Have you notice the quietness,
Just before dawn?
And when the Sun makes its appearance,
There is such welcomed activity.
Don't you agree?
'You called me a pest?
Is that what you think of me? '
You're thinking of 'me'.
And that's all that matters.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The place of an unbidden guest is behind the door.
The first day one is a guest, the second a burden, and the third a pest.
quote by Jean de la Bruyere
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hurt
Yesterday
I told Hurt
Not to come
Visiting me.
Today it
Popped in
Again to say
‘Hi' to me.
I retorted:
You are such
An ugly,
Unwelcome guest.
It winked
And said:
Don't you
Know ;)
I'm the
Common
Household
Pest -
That thrives
In every home
And family…
It's not just
You and me!
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Be it there, albeit unyielding
‘Hang there my verse in witness of my love’,
said Orlando, inscribing on each bark in the woods,
‘Rosalind’, the name of his unbidden beloved.
‘Stay there my verse in witness of my love
For the unbidden lady, to be seen by our common friends,
By which, by which only, I shall be elated.
17.04.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Best Always
Best always,
West always,
Crest always,
Rest always,
Nest always,
Pest always,
Guest always,
Arrest always;
But, it is set apart for a special use.
Lest always,
Jest always,
Test always,
Chest always,
Quest always,
Vest always,
Zest always;
But, you are set apart for a purpose.
Litter, glitter, bitter, critter, hitter, fitter, quitter, sitter;
And like a name well pronouced by its bearer! !
But, try to build up your life according to the plans of a positive character.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Past Participant for M lady Ernestine
Though it may seem I am obsessed.
The truth is that I am possessed
by an old writer long since dead.
Who now resides inside my head
He’ll have no truck with modern verse
and thinks that free form is perverse.
That’s something with which I agree,
perhaps that’s why he’s chosen me
To be his slave, his to command
he doesn’t seem to understand
He is a most unwelcome guest
at best I see him as a pest.
He may be Shakespeare as he says
but I write poetry not plays.
8-May-08
http: //blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Coco
Beautiful coco all the hues in between…
The sun shows off your beauty…
Your smiles makes it flow…
It is you that I am respected to know…
Coco…not yet sifted…
Still smooth and mellow…
(damn so blessed)
Not yet at your best…test, test, test….
Me…pest, pest, pest…
Sweet coco smooth and mellow…
I desire to be your fellow…
Can…I fill your courage and fortitude bag…?
Is my spirit high enough…?
AM I MAN…enough…?
To handle you…that inner woman…
SELF, woman, lady, and queen…
Can…I…?
Beautiful coco and all the hues in between…
The sun shows off your beauty…
AM…I…CAN…I…?
poem by whisperkwane Lamb
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The Critic
I HAD a fellow as my guest,
Not knowing he was such a pest,
And gave him just my usual fare;
He ate his fill of what was there,
And for desert my best things swallow'd,
Soon as his meal was o'er, what follow'd?
Led by the Deuce, to a neighbour he went,
And talk'd of my food to his heart's content:
"The soup might surely have had more spice,
The meat was ill-brown'd, and the wine wasn't nice."
A thousand curses alight on his head!
'Tis a critic, I vow! Let the dog be struck dead!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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I ended up living at OJ's because Nicole bought a home that no longer had a guest house. OJ offered his guest house to me. Anybody in LA looking for a place knows the best places to live are guest houses.
quote by Kato Kaelin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Guest Is 'Trouble
There is a guest and a host
child and servant,
eternity and vanity,
The guest is trouble.
In sickness, health is the host
he gives way to sickness
that the power of truth is depicted
the guest is 'trouble'
In pain, comfort is the host
who concedes the pain
that the vanity of darkness is depicted
the guest is 'trouble'
In death, life is the host
who gives way to death
that the power of resurrection is shown
the guest is 'trouble'
Life is eternal, death is a moment.
health is a fruit, sickness is a leaf
that falls from a tree of life.
They soon wither and waste away.
Be strong, it's not too long
the guest will leave.
and the host will have it all
The guest is 'trouble'
poem by Timothy muggaga
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The 'Poem A Day' Project - Day 66
Its odd how small the world’s become
With travel for almost anyone
Its easy to explore somewhere new
Just take one click on a web site
And you have just booked your flight
Ready to expand your worldview
But when you travel keep in mind
To have respect for what you find
And always try to be a good guest
Imagine a stranger in your home
Feeling he has the right to roam
Nosing about and being a real pest
Laughing at your colour scheme
Stomping round in boots unclean
Telling you your food tastes weird
Complaining that everything is wrong
Don’t you think it wouldn’t be long
Until you wished they had disappeared
poem by Flying Lemming
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When Am I Going To Rest
When am I going to rest?
When I'm going to fetch water
You are on my back
When I'm going to fetch firewood
You are on my back
Oh! When am I going to rest?
When am I going to rest?
When I want to rest
You are on my breast
Suckling like a calf
Yet you have little sharpened teeth
I can even scream if you bite my breast.
All you know is to wee wee, eat and cry
Without giving me time to rest
To my breast
You are the pest
Applying pepper might be a pest control
But still I will not rest
Because there is much to do for you
Perhaps death will be my rest.
poem by Walani Ndhlovu
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Sonnet 108: When Sorrow
When sorrow (using mine own fire's might)
Melts down his lead into my boiling breast;
Through that dark furnace to my heart oppress'd
There shines a joy from thee, my only light;
But soon as thought of thee breeds my delight,
And my young soul flutters to thee his nest,
Most rude despair, my daily unbidden guest,
Clips straight my wings, straight wraps me in his night,
And makes me then bow down my head and say,
'Ah, what doth Phoebus' gold that wretch avail
Whom iron doors do keep from use of day?'
So strangely (alas) thy works in me prevail,
That in my woes for thee thou art my joy,
And in my joys for thee my only annoy.
poem by Philip Sidney
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But also, the guest workers program, it's quite often misused, meaning people could come in as part of a guest workers program and after two weeks in the fields, they'd run off to do every other kind of job that isn't covered by a guest workers program.
quote by Dana Rohrabacher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Treat your guest as a guest for two days; on the third day, give him a hoe.
Treat your guest as a guest for two days -- then on the third day give him a hoe.
Guest
Guest came and returned back
I am unlucky not able to know
And slept.
Guest came and returned back
I lost all the beauty and richness
That I have kept.
Guest came and returned back.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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It is equally wrong to speed a guest who does not want to go, and to keep one back who is eager. You ought to make welcome the present guest, and send forth the one who wishes to go.