My 10th Sonata is a sonata of insects. Insects are born from the sun... they are the sun's kisses.
quote by Alexander Scriabin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Insects
Tiny insects in my hair
Tiny insects everywhere
Tiny insects in my pants
Watching insects make romance
Insects make me make me want to dance dance dance
They make want to dance . . .
Flying insects everywhere
Flying insects buzzing buzzing buzzing thru the air
Just like little diamonds in the sky
Insects buzzing in my eye
Buzzing insects make me want to dance dance dance
They make me want to dance . . .
Insects crawling all around
Insects squirming in the ground
Insects gooey squeaky chewy
Should I eat them--no
Id rather stomp them hurt them stomp
Stomp them while I dance dance dance
I hurt them while I dance dance dance
I stomp them while I dance dance dance . . .
Insects make me scream and shout
They dont know what lifes about
They dont have blood
Theyve got too many legs
They dont have brains in their heads
They know theyll rule the world some day
They bite and sting me anyway
They bite and sting and suck
They bite and sting and suck suck suck
They bite and sting and
Suck suck suck suck suck . . .
Dance dance dance
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The sound of Sunday is not holy
Mauro Giuliani’s guitar
Is played
Sonata erotica
I hear it
As I bow down
My head
My right hand
And all five fingers
Supporting
Like five pillars
To this temple
Of an unwashed
Face
Attentive to giuliani’s
Sonata erotica
On a Sunday
I face a road
Sliced by sounds
Of motorcycles
Without any
Silencers
Sonata erotica
Flamenco guitar
Entering my ears
Resting on my head
My guests this
Sunday noon
Flamenco notes
Dancing
With dainty feet
Stamping on
My brain
Erotica on Sundays
Flamenco dancers
In pink
My eyes follow
The hands
And the hips
And the feet
To this surging
Dainty Desires
In a sense
Sleep is a stranger
Whose name
I have yet to
spell.
the face of prayer
is a little bit
sketchy
its eyes
closed
its nose
blocked
by so much
phlegm
i breathe
something
erroneous
to my heart
my sister
the religious
&
the piety
as usual
is angry.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Insects are my secret fear. That's what terrifies me more than anything - insects.
quote by Michael O'Donoghue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It began as this desire to do this science fiction movie about perhaps one of the last insects left that nobody's done anything on, which is the cockroach - and truly one of the most frightening insects.
quote by Michael O'Donoghue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Obsessed With Incestuous Love
Why obsess something that is relative?
Everyone has their own fetishes.
But I will say this,
Having that kind of a love for 'insects'...
Is a bit extreme.
'Incest.
Not insects.
I said they were obsessed with incestuous love.
I aint mad at 'em.
What they do they do.
I could care less how or who they hop around with.'
Oh?
So you're one of those 'tomato' tomahto...
'Potato' potahto people.
'One has nothing to do with the other.
Normally they have wings.
I am not referring to insects but to incest.
What I refer to has arms and legs,
And struts around naked like no one knows.'
You buggin' today, huh?
Let it go, my brother.
Let it go.
It will be okay.
It doesn't pay to put that kind of stress on yourself.
Trust me.
Slowly...
Just let it go.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Surprise in Japan - Mosquitos in the Oil
not so oily to the ears
mosquitos and other insects
in the used cooking oil
cooking oil for reuse
mosquitos, and insects
at bottom of the can
restaurant special recipe
adding to the taste
used oil with mosquitos
Most books I read tell us about Japanese being very clean people but the chef of this this restaurant in Nishi Funabashi I found put his used cooking oil in a can and under the choppng table in the kitchen. It was meant for reuse. I found mosquitos, ants, and other insects at the bottom of the can. It was really a surprise.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grandma's Old Piano Was Sold
grandma's piano is old.
she died ten years ago
being the second wife of grandpa.
my mother is her second child
that she sent to piano school
but father found her and married
her when she was still 18.
and i was born as their fourth
child. Mother knows how to play
the moonlight sonata which father
loves to listen at night when
i learn how to smile and laugh.
One day Papa found another woman
whom he said made him new again
and he left Mama.
One day Mama died and Papa married
that woman.
One day i left home.
One day the piano was sold
One day the piano was taken to another
town so far away from us.
One day, all these things, the piano, Papa
and my step mother are forgotten.
But then the Moonlight Sonata comes again
One night
From another piano nearby.
The keys are no longer made
From elephant tusks like grandma's old piano.
Not the off white of ivory.
So white and smooth like a well brushed teeth
of a very young boy.
I like to hear it when he learns
how to gnash.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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May 10th
May 10th, is one day amongs all
may 10th pass through me slowly with a word to hold unto
may 10th was sitting waiting to fulfill purpose yet we were blind with fate of foolishness
may 10th took something from the world with pride without regret of pain and lost
may 10th why must you come to pass now
may 10th was a slow moving day moving with
boldness seeking for something precious
may 10th standing at my gate yet i see him not
O what a lostful day to the world
may 10th why must you come to pass at my reign without seeking from me first
may 10th my unforgetable day
it gain more to forgive and forget but how can i forget
may 10th took something worth more than gold from the world
can the world ever forgive and forget that day
may 10th may 10th may 10th can you hear me
u are not to be forgotten by mistake believe me i forgive you but i cann't forget that painful day when you took away my mentor my grand father
may 10th 2011 6: 50pm.
poem by Senator alufalism
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The Thrushes
When the female thrush is busy with insects
while teasingly she walks ahead
the male tries to make eyes at her.
When the female thrush is busy with insects
infatuated the male protects her,
spreading his wings full of hope,
when the female thrush is busy with insects
while teasingly she walks ahead.
poem by Gert Strydom
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I Begged God for My Life
I cursed the birds
Their droppings soiled my clothes
I cursed the animals
Their droppings soiled my feet
While walking on the beach
I cursed the insects
For eating flowers in my garden
I took a gun
Killed the birds and the animals
Sprayed deadly poison
On the the insects
I was feeling happy
As if I had conquered the world
I heard god’s voice
What should I do with you my son?
You soiled my world
By killing my
Birds, insects and animals
For your greed and lust
I begged god for my life
Promised him to
Treat man, animals alike
Preserve his world
With all my might
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Plants, Insects And Animals
Plants, insects and animals
Are many times more intelligent
Than most of the people think!
Most of the times
Plants, insects and animals
Say things they want to say to others
In their own minds in human languages!
From a close distance they can hear
What others say in their minds!
From a close distance they can hear
What humans say with their mouth as well!
They learn the human languages
From human race and other plants, insects and animals!
God communicates with them -
They remember God and prostrate in imagination!
poem by Asif Andalib
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Right at the end of the war I wrote a piano sonata, which was written at a time when Sam Barber used to come down here and we used to have lunch together in a very nice old hotel that's now not there.
quote by Elliott Carter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Words Beyond
What were the lies in a truth
of the buried day?
Fabulous cries? Tears?
It was a tremble down
in the standing crop of men
ready to be genetically modified.
Each walk in the city
exhausts you to an innocent
tale of manipulated fiction.
Insects, yes insects
were climbing on the moon
like saints with flowing beards
to drink the blackness
of sky. There had been a method
in their madness, in death and whiteness.
poem by Satish Verma
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For Istanbul
April
It's impossible
To write poems
If you're in love
And not to
If the month is April
Desires & Memories
Desires are different
So are the memories.
How can anyone live, tell me,
In a town that has no sunshine?
Insects
No use thinking,
Just crave!
See, that's what the insects do.
Invitation
I'm waiting.
Come when the weather is such
That there can be no turning back.
poem by Orhan Veli Kanik
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Each Creature In Nature
Each creature in Nature has a role to fill
Most species of birds have a different shaped bill
Between insects and seed eaters the difference is great
The beauty and wonder that Nature create.
Each life form in Nature for a purpose is born
The common brown rats though victims of scorn
Are born for some purpose though we wish them ill
And without provocation them we choose to kill.
The woodlice flightless insects that live on decay
Perform their tasks in a quiet and secretive way
The more we learn of Nature the more our wonder of her does grow
Yet so little of her ways we can claim to know.
Though habitat destruction by humans and climate change on many living things taking toll
All creatures in Nature perform their own role
And like all of her life forms to Nature us humans belong
Though many may well say I have got it wrong.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Muse From The Forest
The white gold,
The black gold,
The red gold,
The yellow gold,
'Obroni-Nephew' is about to teach you all;
Like the very call of a muse from the forest.
The Chinese eat all animals, fish and insects;
The very call from the forest with a view but,
Do you like to be fed with crocodile meat?
The lizard meat,
The lion meat,
The tiger meat,
The snake meat,
The elephant meat,
Life is like that for many who eat everything;
The Chinese eat all animals, fish and insects.
Life is like a visit to the biggest cemetery on earth,
Do you like to be fed with cockroaches?
Whatever we eat today,
We will be burried one day.
Of the brown gold,
Of the orange gold,
Of the green gold,
Of the blue gold,
The Chinese eat all meat, fish and insects.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The hoopoe
Every time that I mow the lawn
he waits in a tree
on me to finish
and there are times
that he gets impatient
and his hoopoe resounds.
Just when I walk away
he flies fluttering down
and pecks everywhere
to get worms
and insects
and I see his orange brown quiff
standing up
and it’s as if his body
glows shimmering orange
and there are black and white stripes
going to the points
of his wings
while like a woodpecker
he hits his bill
here and there into the ground
and like a chicken
pecking up seed
picks up insects from the ground.
poem by Gert Strydom
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All I know is what the words know, and dead things, and that makes a handsome little sum, with a beginning and a middle and an end, as in the well-built phrase and the long sonata of the dead.
quote by Samuel Beckett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Im Bugged
Im bugged you all look like insects
In your brand new sunspecs
Im bugged Im bugged
I drop a little note through my sympathetics door
I think Im going ga ga I just cant take anymore
At first I see em swarming from a dark and midnight nest
And when I see em fiddling well I think youve guessed the rest!
Im bugged you all look like insects
In your brand new sunspecs
Im bugged Im bugged
I wake up in a cold sweat and I run into the street
And just like in my nightmare they are jiggling at my feet
I take a dead mans lighter and I burn them to the floor
But where there was a dozen there are now a hundred more
Im bugged
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Im Bugged
Im bugged you all look like insects
In your brand new sunspecs
Im bugged Im bugged
I drop a little note through my sympathetics door
I think Im going ga ga I just cant take anymore
At first I see em swarming from a dark and midnight nest
And when I see em fiddling well I think youve guessed the rest!
Im bugged you all look like insects
In your brand new sunspecs
Im bugged Im bugged
I wake up in a cold sweat and I run into the street
And just like in my nightmare they are jiggling at my feet
I take a dead mans lighter and I burn them to the floor
But where there was a dozen there are now a hundred more
Im bugged
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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