I think coughing up slugs was quite hard. Ron has a scene where he has to cough up these giant slugs.
quote by Rupert Grint
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Out Of Their Laurels Like Greek Gods
'At night there are moonlit slugs…
Whose ivory body's comet'
'Out of their laurels' like Greek gods…
'Alone' these horned demons'
Taste the linden air for life.
'A life, that's far beyond aerials.
Far beyond our, own, receivers'
'As they sliver' into the darkness'
A glow… follows in their starless
Path: Through these open spaces.
'A Journey is taken, nightly, blind.
‘This is the quest' of a primrose hope.
'This is a ghostly, passage…
Into a virginal flesh' …unspoken… for.
Such is the hunger of all loves.
… (Even that of slugs') …
poem by Mark Heathcote
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Slug City
There once was a family of slugs
That lived in a cabbage patch town
They went out every nite to eat
Found a cabbage and began to munch down
All through the night they could reduce
A cabbage to a stalk in the ground
All night they would munch and munch
But you would never here them, not nary a sound
But Mrs H was becoming fed up
Her patch the proudest around
With malace, blood red, she schemed
She vowed to eliminate those clowns
She purchased the best poison they had
She tried every trick she read
But the slugs just kept on coming
Every nite long after it was bed
Then a local wino he said
Out of the garden he could take
These inconsiderate gluttonous
Stylommatophora pulmonates
So he began by opening a beer
Placing some into a sphere
Putting them by each cabbage head
he said, 'This will make these slugs disappear.'
But by morning the cabbage was gone
Worse yet so was the beer
And if you looked even more closely
Tiny signs saying, 'Next time make it import you here.'
poem by Midnights Voice
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Coughing Woman
So what so the woman
Had a bad cough and they
Let her into the cinema to
Watch a film and there she
Was cough cough right through
The movie and it kind of echoed
And at times became the focus
Of attention and the odd person
Said Hey can’t you control that
Coughing? And she coughed in
Reply and the guy next to her
Moved and the dame behind
Tapped her on the shoulder and
Said Oughtn’t you to be in bed
With medication? And the movie
Rolled on and the people watched
Or moaned or did both and then
Towards the end of the film she
Stood up and slowly walking by
The people in the row and said
Sorry sorry and they muttered
Things and whispered words and
Finally she got out in the daylight
And beneath a bright sun and her
Coughing continued as it had begun.
poem by Terry Collett
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Bob Dylan impresses me about as much as... well, I was gonna say a slug but I like slugs.
quote by Don Van Vliet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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These sea slugs
These sea slugs,
they just don't seem
Japanese.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Kobayashi Issa
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Slugs and Snails - Parody Robert Frost Fire and Ice
Some say our world will end with snails
some slug out blown.
With climate change, scarce dinner pails,
I'd back whales weighed upon time's scales.
Of human nature enough's known
by those who'd live to tell tales tall
to show that for destruction sown
slug outs withal
suffice - home-grown.
Two stanza word world ends at ease
in freezer stowed
both slugs and snails preserved - one sees
a micro-wave cold sale could tease
snails from their shells - Frost's poem showed
that none cold feet should entertain
when world on ice skates, atoms slowed:
Can slugs feel pain
for tea at minus forty three degrees?
Fire and Ice
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
(8 April 2010)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Slugs and Snails and Homelovers' Tales
You asked me for a poem about home and I remembered
that millions of years ago there was plenty of food for all
in the Garden of Eden and slugs
were well supplied with greenery and all was one big happy family
until slugs found that other species found them tasty
chocolate jellies or unjust desserts especially when after
a good night out they were, well, sluggish about getting home
and the sun came out and gulp quick as a slug of Jack
but spotting one night or was it day, a battered caravan
serai, it occurred that a portable home would be a good thing
to evolute. Became snails. Just took time.
Poetic point of this is for there is a point, that
human beings are much the same, there's the bricks and mortar thing
we call home but really home is
in the head or heart, we carry it with us, it's the place we go when
there's no other place to go.
And next time you feel a bit sluggish
about going to work, or like a snail unwillingly to school
you'll have to admit that Evolution
does a goddamned good job, a home in your backpack
beats commuting to work any day. Respect.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Sight Persists
In small cells it grows
glows in vitreous seas
like phosphorescent slugs
by currents released
holding all the motion, color,
loveliness
of the captured world,
until noticing, at last,
I see.
poem by Steven Federle
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Teenage Labotomy
65279;Lobotomy, lobotomy, lobotomy, lobotomy!
DDT did a job on me
Now I am a real sickie
Guess I'll have to break the news
That I got no mind to lose.
All the girls are in love with me
I'm a teenage lobotomy.
Slugs and snails are after me
DDT keeps me happy
Now I guess I'll have to tell 'em
That I got no cerebellum.
Gonna get my Ph.D.
I'm a teenage lobotomy.
REPEAT
song performed by by Ramones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Convalescent Gripster
The gods let slip that fiendish grip
Upon me last week Sunday--
No fiercer storm than racked my form
E'er swept the Bay of Fundy;
But now, good-by
To drugs, say I--
Good-by to gnawing sorrow;
I am up to-day,
And, whoop, hooray!
I'm going out to-morrow!
What aches and pain in bones and brain
I had I need not mention;
It seemed to me such pangs must be
Old Satan's own invention;
Albeit I
Was sure I'd die,
The doctor reassured me--
And, true enough,
With his vile stuff,
He ultimately cured me.
As there I lay in bed all day,
How fair outside looked to me!
A smile so mild old Nature smiled
It seemed to warm clean through me.
In chastened mood
The scene I viewed,
Inventing, sadly solus,
Fantastic rhymes
Between the times
I had to take a bolus.
Of quinine slugs and other drugs
I guess I took a million--
Such drugs as serve to set each nerve
To dancing a cotillon;
The doctors say
The only way
To rout the grip instanter
Is to pour in
All kinds of sin--
Similibus curantur!
'Twas hard; and yet I'll soon forget
Those ills and cures distressing;
One's future lies 'neath gorgeous skies
When one is convalescing!
So now, good-by
To drugs say I--
Good-by, thou phantom Sorrow!
I am up to-day,
And, whoop, hooray!
I'm going out to-morrow.
poem by Eugene Field
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The Horrible Scene
On their deaths lies 46 dreadful tales
From their blood emerged boiling ire of revenge
Eyes on fire, multiple grinding teeth of tigers
Hearts ripped apart from their lost of kin
Massacre covered the glowing day of dreams
Slugs litter, Blood scattered
Watered the land in red, painted the lane - departed
Some were buried alive, some were raped
All ruthlessly slayed, in the name of political reign
Is this how to win the power by exterminating your contender?
Justice to those victims of this horrible scene!
Justice scream to those Maguindanao Massacre victims!
Don't just stand there watching, do something to stop these killings!
We are begging......please be God fearing, those who are ruling!
We don't want these scenes, we don't want sufferings.....please stop slaying! ! !
25th 0f November,2009
Please pray for all the victims of these dreadful injustices happening around the world! ! !
Thanks and love to all of you.......
poem by Catrina Heart
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When I am asked, What do you think of our audience I answer, I know two kinds of audiences only--one coughing, and one not coughing.
quote by Arthur Schnabel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I am asked, "What do you think of our audience?" I answer, "I know two kinds of audiences only - one coughing, and one not coughing."
Arthur Schnabel in My Life and Music (1961)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fate of Man
The roses you bring every morning
become an interval between hope and ending.
Thinking about it, impulsively I
contradict God against humanity.
Little murder here and there
of nihilism, sweet smell of faith,
taking any road to reach the climax,
to die for the zeroism.
An outsider becomes the altered hero,
you would find the unimaginable,
lamenting and bleeding, blunting
the eagerness, the spark.
We will inherit the crowned homes,
the brief interlude between crime and award.
The mud, the water, the slugs
will decide the fate of man.
poem by Satish Verma
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On The Breast Of Flames
Dismembering the wreath,
he went on celebrating his own demise.
Shadow had become a white shroud.
He was spitting blood, when slugs,
hit him from behind.
No body remembered his name
We had been dividing the roofs.
My moon and my sky.
I feel my eyes have turned into marbles.
Castaway I float on conscience, with
blemishes, doomed muscle.
Sun and water were baffled.
Raged against the invisible walls
I was breaking my knuckles.
No body knows, who will outbid
whon. I am lying low,
to rise one day
like sphinx,
on the breast of flames.
poem by Satish Verma
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I know two kinds of audiences only - one coughing, and one not coughing.
quote by Artur Schnabel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Too Concerned with Self
People are too concerned
with self, said Father Higgs.
His aged face as if hewn from
Rock, sat before you on broad
shoulders, the lips labouring
with the words. Too much
worried how self will feel,
how self will benefit. He
hunched forward, his large
eyes moving over you like
tired slugs. The symbol of
the cross, he said with a
movement of his head, is to
cut through the I, the sign
of the self. You noticed one
high brow, grey, larger than
the other, hair in nose like
insects in hiding. He breathed
out deeply. Self denial is
the essence of the message
of Christ, he said, a left
inclination of his head, his
teeth (not his own) large
and discoloured. You wanted
to ask questions, but he raised
a hand. The word I is stated
too often in conversations,
he said, or self too much
brought in as myself or herself
or himself or such as may be
used in talk. You understood
this was his way of lecturing.
His black monastic habit was
stained about the neck by food
or dribble or dried up phlegm.
We ought to be concerned with
others, he stated, wheezing, face
reddening, eyes enlarging. Where
is my inhaler? he wheezed, I really
must be off, this smoker's cough,
my poor old lungs, must get myself
a stronger inhaler and he was off,
out of the common room he had
caught you in some hour back.
All you saw was his hand and inhaler
and departing monastic habit of black.
poem by Terry Collett
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Dark Sky's Treat
The sky is so dark with looming clouds,
suspending its raindrops o’er our heads.
Counting until the time is just right,
to release them onto flowerbeds.
They patter against the window panes,
roofs and gardens, are each washed and clean,
Gleaming water sits on wood and stone,
giving to them all a satin sheen.
Thirsty ground laps up the welcomed wet,
glistening now with such fresh delight.
Slugs and snails softly creep out to see
their vast playground transformed overnight.
Deep rich colours now adorn the scene,
and dull grey dust is quickly swept away.
A sweet offering of pure clear air,
welcomes a shining new bright sunray.
We do so bemoan the pelting hail,
with a lashing force it drives along.
With showers that catch us unaware,
they can be doing nothing wrong.
The parched dry land will need all their care,
so that plants survive the summer heat.
We should be so glad that they are saved,
by looming clouds and dark sky’s treat.
.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Burn
[Havoc:]
It be a buck-fifty
Your chance of runnin'
Is infinte
Slugs that leave niggas drugged
Like a chick slip the Mickey
I'm so on the low
It'd take a Navy SEAL
To get me
When I surface
If not chips to Benz
Is the purpose
On your team
I'll pull the curtain
A beautiful hurtin'
Till my eyes see the blood
That mean the creep start workin'
Niggas never learnin' that
They eyes keep lurkin'
Have ya janitor
Pumpin' your [X5] merkin
Skid marks the street
Your heart skips a beat
Beef? Nigga overcook that meat
Get no sleep
song performed by by Mobb Deep from Infamy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Down In The Dark
down in the dark where i live
i can feel the earth squirm squishingly around me
down in the dark where i live
there is slime on the stone floor and it's cold between my toes
in my slide, slide slide down into this place
down in the dark where i live
no one cares if there is mud on my face
down in the dark where i live
i am all alone, i like that way, it's peaceful
just me and my old bones
down in the dark where i live
there is much to eat, i hope you like slugs and snails and snakes
my spice rack is complete
i have a fire and i have a pot
and if you want to curl right up
we'll eat and snuggle by my fire
down in the dark where i live
it's safe and cozy
you are always welcome here
poem by Bonnie Cote
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