Which came first the intestine or the tapeworm?
quote by William S. Burroughs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Amach's Intestine
Amach, woman who claims other
People things that are not his
If anybody asks
‘’whose thing is this’’
Amach will claim
‘’ it’s mine’’
Though it’s not hers
One person get tired of her
Monotonous habit
And ill planned against her
One day.at bull skinning site
This person caught golden snake by
Neck and shown it up and asked
‘’Whose intestine is this ‘’
‘’it’s mine’’ Amach answered
Thinking its bull intestine
‘’ Come and take ‘’ the person said
Amach rushed in hastily
Caught golden snake by tail
Snake bent and bitten Amach’s hand
Amach died instantly
‘’don’t claim anything,
You will claim Amach’s intestine’’
‘’don’t catch anything
You will catch Amach’s intestine’’
poem by David Aoloch Bion
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
0359 One for the Inner Child
As the tapeworm
said to the spaghetti -
'Would you run that
past me again? '
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To A Professional Eulogist
Newman, in you two parasites combine:
As tapeworm and as graveworm too you shine.
When on the virtues of the quick you've dwelt,
The pride of residence was all you felt
(What vain vulgarian the wish ne'er knew
To paint his lodging a flamboyant hue?)
And when the praises of the dead you've sung,
'Twas appetite, not truth, inspired your tongue;
As ill-bred men when warming to their wine
Boast of its merit though it be but brine.
Nor gratitude incites your song, nor should-
Even charity would shun you if she could.
You share, 'tis true, the rich man's daily dole,
But what you get you take by way of toll.
Vain to resist you-vermifuge alone
Has power to push you from your robber throne.
When to escape you he's compelled to die
Hey! presto!-in the twinkling of an eye
You vanish as a tapeworm, reappear
As graveworm and resume your curst career.
As host no more, to satisfy your need
He serves as dinner your unaltered greed.
O thrifty sycophant of wealth and fame,
Son of servility and priest of shame,
While naught your mad ambition can abate
To lick the spittle of the rich and great;
While still like smoke your eulogies arise
To soot your heroes and inflame our eyes;
While still with holy oil, like that which ran
Down Aaron's beard, you smear each famous man,
I cannot choose but think it very odd
It ne'er occurs to you to fawn on God.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Who needs such a long intestine, anyway?
quote by Moshe Dayan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sometimes even the intestine and the stomach disagree.
Appendix
listen, you are but an
appendix to his intestine
up there
where he is enjoying his life
he only remembers you
when he aches.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psychoanalysts are not occupied with the minds of their patients; they do not believe in the mind but in a cerebral intestine.
quote by Bernard Berenson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Symbiosis, A Parasitism
lichen to tree
moss to rock
river on the bed
stars to the sky
caterpillar
on the leaf
pinworm
on the intestine
choose
what relationship
above
do have we?
we call ourselves
sweet
we mask ourselves
with the face
of love
time shall tell
the truth
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Large Intestine
Look in the mirror. Let us both look.
Here is my naked body.
Apparently you like it,
I have no reason to.
Who bound us, me and my body?
Why must I die
together with it?
I have the right to know where the borderline
between us is drawn.
Where am I, I, I myself.
Belly, am I in the belly? In the intestines?
In the hollow of the sex? In a toe?
Apparently in the brain. I do not see it.
Take my brain out of my skull. I have the right
to see myself. Don’t laugh.
That’s macabre, you say.
It’s not me who made
my body.
I wear the used rags of my family,
an alien brain, fruit of chance, hair
after my grandmother, the nose
glued together from a few dead noses.
What do I have in common with all that?
What do I have in common with you, who like
my knee, what is my knee to me?
Surely
I would have chosen a different model.
I will leave both of you here,
my knee and you.
Don’t make a wry face, I will leave you all my body
to play with.
And I will go.
There is no place for me here,
in this blind darkness waiting for
corruption.
I will run out, I will race
away from myself.
I will look for myself
running
like crazy
till my last breath.
One must hurry
before death comes. For by then
like a dog jerked by its chain
I will have to return
into this stridently suffering body.
To go through the last
most strident ceremony of the body.
Defeated by the body,
slowly annihilated because of the body
I will become kidney failure
or the gangrene of the large intestine.
And I will expire in shame.
And the universe will expire with me,
reduced as it is
to a kidney failure
and the gangrene of the large intestine.
poem by Anna Swirszczynska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Daily prayer to myself
my body is strong as metal
my kidneys are strong as metal
my heart is strong as metal
my intestine is strong as metal
every part of my body is strong as iron
my daily prayer to myself
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Manchester by Night
O'er this huge town, rife with intestine wars,
Whence as from monstrous sacrificial shrines
Pillars of smoke climb heavenward, Night inclines
Black brows majestical with glimmering stars.
Her dewy silence soothes life's angry jars:
And like a mother's wan white face, who pines
Above her children's turbulent ways, so shines
The moon athwart the narrow cloudy bars.
Now toiling multitudes that hustling crush
Each other in the fateful strife for breath,
And, hounded on by diverse hungers, rush
Across the prostrate ones that groan beneath,
Are swathed within the universal hush,
As life exchanges semblances with death.
poem by Mathilde Blind
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Mountain And The Snake
a long black yellow snake with stripes
arrives hissing
looking for a prey
a rat perhaps
but there is none
not even an ant for a snack
and so the long black yellow snake with stripes of green
slides its way to a dark, moist cave
tight on its door
pushing its long slimy body
to the tip of the
cave's orifice to the end of its
intestine
it was a good tickle
and the whole body of the mountain
gives a tremble
a moan and from the slits of its sides
to the tip of its feet
and toes and trees
the whole body of the mountain
moans
happy with the long slimy body of the
snake's skin and bone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Justice
Jack Doe met Dick Roe, whose wife he loved,
And said: 'I will get the best of him.'
So pulling a knife from his boot, he shoved
It up to the hilt in the breast of him.
Then he moved that weapon forth and back,
Enlarging the hole he had made with it,
Till the smoking liver fell out, and Jack
Merrily, merrily played with it.
Then he reached within and he seized the slack
Of the lesser bowel, and, traveling
Hither and thither, looked idly back
On that small intestine, raveling.
The wretched Richard, with many a grin
Laid on with exceeding suavity,
Curled up and died, and they ran John in
And charged him with sins of gravity.
The case was tried and a verdict found:
The jury, with great humanity,
Acquitted the prisoner on the ground
Of extemporary insanity.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Eclipse in Womb
Soon I die, my soul search anxiously
a place to hide.
I saw my deceased mother who was Re-born
in the city of Western Virginia, the united states of America.
She has already married to a Philanthropist!
Mom is very beautiful like an actress.
But no children.
I talked to her 'Mom! it's me, can't you recognize; Oh! I am sorry
Your mother tongue is entirely different'.
Anyway she became pregnant quickly.
Father is very happy and brings everything; whatever she wants
but for me the embryo is a perfect hell.
I am in a dark pond of the Womb
and instead of flowers I see the intestine.
When she drinks tea I feel hot
and she takes cold; Oh! it's like in north pole.
I have to suffer for nine months in this sachet.
It's a very long period.
Mom! I sniff your tasty breast milk
and I hope you deliver me to this sacred World safely.
Do you remember my name Mom!
and I am sure you give the same to this naughty boy?
To the young poetess Starr.Williams
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Receipe To Cook The Organ Meats!
Organ meats are laced and tasty,
let us make the dishes, not the pastry,
Cooking of brain, lungs, heart,
Liver, intestine and kidneys,
Soak them in wine for years,
Marinate them in fizzy beer,
Baking is too hot,
So we opt for smoke,
Smoke them throughout,
the Day and night,
Even in between,
Many the numbers,
Faster the organs get smoked,
When the eyes and nose water,
Use the mask and filters,
Weeds can be added,
For a quick fix and flavor,
When the sputum is thickened,
With the bending cough,
When the legs are swollen,
With tiring limps and thoughts,
We can go to the hospitals,
To make sure,
Whether we have cooked proper?
Once the certificate is issued,
That we are the chief chef of our body,
With perfectly imperfect organs,
We can stop marinating and smoking,
As the organs can mature on themselves,
and we can be displayed sooner or later,
to show our relatives and friends,
that we are the great cooks.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Possessed Penis
i have a possessed penis, it wakes up at night and tries to strangle me right after i've turned out the lights, i cant be within six feet of a female, or it'll slither down her butt crack, through her anus then impale, after rupturing her intestine, and i quess when im ingestin' estrogen it helps a little, then i get the urge to molest again, i've invested in therapy, varying medications, now that i've tested them, i've decided that all i can really do is give in, thats my best defense, so i inject my pants with steroids and down a box of viagra, my penis shoots diagi-nally through the earths crust and then expands, splitting the earth in half, then i get a boner and shit my pants, it slams into the moon and blasts it to a million pieces, then rips the fabric and space and time and heats it, to such a high temperature with my spicey sperm, that it lurches warps and contorts like a little fiesty worm, like burnt plastic, i warp reality, with my burning bubbling bursts of cum, and dense phallic meat
poem by Mayhem's Apprentice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Snow White's Acne
At first she was sure it was just a bit of dried strawberry juice,
or a fleck of her mother's red nail polish that had flaked off
when she'd patted her daughter to sleep the night before.
But as she scrubbed, Snow felt a bump, something festering
under the surface, like a tapeworm curled up and living
in her left cheek.
Doc the Dwarf was no dermatologist
and besides Snow doesn't get to meet him in this version
because the mint leaves the tall doctor puts over her face
only make matters worse. Snow and the Queen hope
against hope for chicken pox, measles, something
that would be gone quickly and not plague Snow's whole
adolescence.
If only freckles were red, she cried, if only
concealer really worked. Soon came the pus, the yellow dots,
multiplying like pins in a pin cushion. Soon came
the greasy hair. The Queen gave her daughter a razor
for her legs and a stick of underarm deodorant.
Snow
doodled through her teenage years—'Snow + ?' in Magic
Markered hearts all over her notebooks. She was an average
student, a daydreamer who might have been a scholar
if she'd only applied herself. She liked sappy music
and romance novels. She liked pies and cake
instead of fruit.
The Queen remained the fairest in the land.
It was hard on Snow, having such a glamorous mom.
She rebelled by wearing torn shawls and baggy gowns.
Her mother would sometimes say, 'Snow darling,
why don't you pull back your hair? Show those pretty eyes?'
or 'Come on, I'll take you shopping.'
Snow preferred
staying in her safe room, looking out of her window
at the deer leaping across the lawn. Or she'd practice
her dance moves with invisible princes. And the Queen,
busy being Queen, didn't like to push it.
poem by Denise Duhamel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ellipse #78(…candy bar)
Saw a kid in a gas mask today
Five years old- maybe four
Stole a Hershey bar from the remains
of a burnt down store.
Riot gear and hopscotch
Slingshots and hand grenades.
Well, that kid- with that precious chocolate in hand
He found a soldier, lying on the ground
And there, he kneeled down
The soldier had a gut shot wound
And bits of shrapnel in his small intestine
In his hand,
a photograph of his wife he rubbed
with a bloody thumb.
From the waist down, he began to grow numb
And that kid in that gas mask
He looked down with a bit of pity
On the soldier with the seeping wound
and soon to be widowed wife.
He took PITY on that soldier's
poor, unfortunate life.
He took that candy bar from his back pocket,
And he GAVE that dying soldier his chocolate.
That soldier- he had a tear in his eye..
For that one gracious deed before he would die.
He looked up in the gas mask glass,
and saw his reflection!
He smiled wide,
and with sincere, yet trembling inflection
said, ‘Thanks kid.'
And that kid, he saw that smile-
and he pondered on it for awhile.
'That's ok. I'm going to steal a TV now instead'
-]0[
poem by Joe Guillotin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I found your old Christmas card in my bookshelf
I love that water color painting
printed on your precious card!
In 2009, far away Salem church appears
with snow flakes
and a woodpecker rests
on a cypress branch.
Your boisterous flowing hand tells
' Thinking of you as Christmas
and wishing you only the best
in the New Year! We keep you in our prayers
Take care! '-Sandra & family.
Yes Madam! I am really worried of your long lull
And thank God! Your prayers worked out.
My colonoscopy results were good
The polyps they found in my large intestine were benign tumor
and not Malignant?
I am happy as I could scribble further
If my old friends appear soon?
Neighborhood birds started singing
in the absence of Virginian nightingale?
And I kept a bowl of rice & water on the window sill.
Hope you're well and please give a little shout
from Lie-Ving road, West Columbia!
[Kindness is a language the dumb can speak and the deaf can hear and understand.]-Christian Bovee
for my life-school teacher Sandra Fowler in gratitude!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Elegy Of Lincoln
Lincoln is gone — who ruled the Western Land
From the Pacific to the Atlantic's brim —
And cold and nerveless lies the mighty hand
That struck the fetters from the negro's limb.
Lincoln is gone — and now for ever still
The gentle, manly, and the feeling heart
And quench'd in might the endless will
That never flinch'd from Duty's sternest part.
The Negro mourns for him who wont to stand
The foremost Champion in fair freedom's train;
Who took the dusky Ethiope by the hand
And from his forehead wiped the shameful stain.
The gloomy Indian hears the tale with grief
Of his Protector's dark untimely end —
And sternly sorrows for the Pale-face Chief,
The red man's brother and his constant friend.
Now anarchy and rest overwhelm
In mid-career our lordly ship of state
For Lincoln's hand no longer holds the helm
To guide her passage through the fearful strait.
His foresight deep, his judgment keen and cool,
Would hush Sedition's voice and Discord's jar —
Oh! For another year of Lincoln's rule
To blot the footprints of intestine war.
But though we view the blank where late he stood
Discharging fearlessly his country's trust,
His name shall number with the great and good
When his proud tomb has moulder'd in the dust.
When dove-eyed peace shall have eternal birth,
And spread Millennial bliss along our shore
And all the nations of the smiling earth
Shall learn the horrid art of war no more.
Yes! we may search from Boston's busy street
To far Nebraska's wide untrodden plain
But no such man as Lincoln may we meet,
Nor shall his country see his like again.
poem by Joseph Furphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!