The other day I got out my can opener and was opening a can of worms when I thought, 'What am I doing'
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
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Buddhist Lesson # 2
enlightment,
the act of opening,
like a rosebud,
like a mother,
opening the door...
like a child
opening a present,
like a woman
opening to a man....
opening...
all the hidden chambers,
every door to every
secret kingdom of the soul.....
opening the box that holds
your secret thoughts, desires....
opening...
the door of the cage,
letting the winged breath fly....
opening....
your heart to itself,
and to all hearts beating....
opening....
the vault of conceptions,
the entrance to the tomb
of past lives and memories....
opening...
your hands to the world
as if it were your neighbor,
and you, it's home!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Just under the surface I shall be, all together at first, then separate and drift, through all the earth and perhaps in the end through a cliff into the sea, something of me. A ton of worms in an acre, that is a wonderful thought, a ton of worms, I believe it.
quote by Samuel Beckett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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London Tube Trains (Are Like Worms!)
London Tube Trains are like Worms,
They are even shaped like worms,
They live underground like Worms do,
Eating into the heart of the capital,
Like worms eating into an apple.
poem by Rachel Porter
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Waiting For The Worms
Oooo you cannot reach me now,
Oooo no matter how you try.
Goodbye cruel world, its over.
Walk on by.
Sitting in a bunker,
Here behind my wall,
Waiting for the worms to come. ( worms to come. )
In perfect isolation,
Here behind my wall,
Waiting for the worms to come. ( worms to come. )
Waiting, to cut out the deadwood.
Waiting, to clean up the city.
Waiting, to follow the worms.
Waiting, to put on a black shirt.
Waiting, to weed out the weaklings.
Waiting, to smash in their windows and kick in their doors.
Waiting, for the final solution to strengthen the strain.
Waiting, to follow the worms.
Waiting, to turn on the showers and fire the ovens.
Waiting, for the queers and the coons and the reds and the jews.
Waiting, to follow the worms.
Would you like to see britannia,
Rule again, my friend?
All you have to do is follow the worms.
Would you like to send our colored cousins,
Home again, my friend?
All you need to do is follow the worms.
song performed by by Pink Floyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Musing on mortality
Musing on mortality.
Though we all start on equal terms
Your life experience will affirm.
All finish up as food for worms.
Some will win whilst others lose
We have no choice we can’t refuse
All finish up as food for worms.
Although we strive to stay alive
By any means we can contrive.
All finish up as food for worms
Some settle for cremation
An act of desperation.
All finish up as food for worms
Although the ashes are broadcast
They mingle with the soil at last.
All finish up as food for worms
That is the way it’s meant to be.
There is no doubt eventually.
All finish up as food for worms
The only true equality
Is found within the cemetery
ALL FINISH UP AS FOOD FOR WORMS.
SUNDAY,11 DECEMBER 2011
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Theres A New World Just Opening For Me
Now I know just what Ive been doing wrong,
Life seems empty, but it wont last for long.
I shant go on this way.
Theres a new world just opening for me.
Been alive, but it could be lying down. [? ]
Just cant tell when the devils on the prowl.
I cant pretend no more.
Theres a new world just opening for me.
Theres a new world just opening for me.
Win the battle, but the victory brings you pain.
You make confessions, but you do the same again.
I wont go on this way.
Theres a new world just opening for me.
I wont go on this way.
Theres a new world just opening for me.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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3 Steps To The Other Side
I
Worms worms
wiggle
without
inhibitions
or deep thought
upside down in fun
looking up for more
to wiggle wiggle
down again
II
Money money money
like a mad whore foaming
or Van Gogh slicing off his ear
or a suicide's regret
if you are not careful
it will invade your soul
and never let you go
still always asking
for more more more
III
Many years have passed us
Many lives have faded from us
Many friends have gone away
Many loves have let us down
Many more times wait for more
Till death takes it away
And gives it to somebody else
poem by Charles Lara
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Unfinished Landscape With A Dog
Not much of a dog yet,
that smudge in the distance, beyond the reach
of focus. It's just an impressionist
gesture, a guess. From the edge of the clearing, the farmhouse
materializes, settles
into wall & stone. The water,
making the surface
of the stream, makes
reflections. So why shouldn't the dog
accept limits, become
a figure? Is it like the girl who sits
in the hall closet and says she's not
hiding? She's inside—
listening without the burden
of sight, letting locations
release hold. Out of body,
they seem lighter: her parents' voices no longer
hooked to their mouths. They seem
cleaner. Even the electric can opener;
the sounds of children
that rise from the yard, and fall; the opening
window, these are no longer
effects, things expected
of a subject and verb. The world anyhow is too
straightforward.
Maybe the dog
does not want to be a dog, does not want
to be turned into landscape
but to remain in the beginning, placeless:
with the wind opening, the wind
a vowel, and the stars and waters
that flash, recoil, and retch
unnamed as yet, unformed, unfound.
poem by Kate Northrop
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Big Boots
Drift all you like
From ocean to ocean
Search the whole world
Drunken confessions
And hijacked affairs
Just make you more alone
If you come home I'll bake you a cake
Made of velvet eyes
I wish you could see me
Just when I kill
You're my man-o-war
You're my man-o-war
And the worms will eat you whole
My love
So unplug your phone
Stop all the chatter
Iit all comes flooding back
From poisoned clouds
To poison the world
You're my man-o-war
You're my man-o-war
And the worms will eat you whole
And the worms will eat you whole
My love
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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American Wriggle
Rand Paul opens
a new can of worms.
The worms wriggle
around in the can,
unaware they’re about
to become fish-bait.
“That’s it! ” he tells them,
“I approve of wriggle!
Fish approve of wriggle.
Everybody approves wriggle.
It’s The American Way! ”
Tea Partiers cheer, wriggling
like blind American worms.
(24 MAY 10, Santa Clara CA)
poem by Bill Costley
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The Lesson
I keep on dying again.
Veins collapse, opening like the
Small fists of sleeping
Children.
Memory of old tombs,
Rotting flesh and worms do
Not convince me against
The challenge. The years
And cold defeat live deep in
Lines along my face.
They dull my eyes, yet
I keep on dying,
Because I love to live.
poem by Maya Angelou
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What The Hyena Said
The moon is but a golden skull,
She mounts the heavens now,
And Moon-Worms, mighty Moon-Worms
Are wreathed around her brow.
The Moon-Worms are a doughty race:
They eat her gray and golden face.
Her eye-sockets dead, and molding head:
These caverns are their dwelling-place.
The Moon-Worms, serpents of the skies,
From the great hollows of her eyes
Behold all souls, and they are wise:
With tiny, keen and icy eyes,
Behold how each man sins and dies.
When Earth in gold-corruption lies
Long dead, the moon-worm butterflies
On cyclone wings will reach this place—
Yea, rear their brood on earth’s dead face.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Love is the opener as well as closer of eyes.
quote by George MacDonald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Snapshot - the fats
i look at my thigh and fold the
accummulating fat on my belly and thought
it would take two months for the worms
to finish me up when i die.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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I Have Worms Inside My Mouth
at first i wanted to spit them all
wanting to relieve myself
with all the hassle
in keeping worms
that my friends detest
they tell me
that i must spit them all
for reasons of
sanitation
or perhaps
for my own sanity
i think about it
and the possibilities
of finally throwing up
after all i get
nauseous
this feeling of trying to hide
some things
inside the mouth
(do you know
about it?)
i could not do the throwing up
and so
the worms are still there
it is something
about giving them
temporary shelter
a home
i did not listen to myself
i did not listen to their advices
i decided to keep the worms for good
swallowing each worm
sliding in my esophagus
and finally settling inside the
rooms of my heart
i dream about each worm
wriggling inside my brain
but i keep them still
despite the mixed feelings of
pleasure and pain
one day
the worms become butterflies
and i feel ready for
this beautiful eventuality
i look up
to the heavens
on a very bright day
i spit them
all free
to the skies to the clouds
and to the trees
where they all
rightfully belong
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Worms in Africa
The worms in Africa are skinny
Iseola wants to be buried in Africa
The worms in Africa are not slimmy
Which is why Iseola wants to be buried in Africa?
The worms in America are fat
Iseola does not want to be buried in America
The worms in America are slimmy
Which is why Iseola does not want to be buried in America?
Iseola wants to be buried in Africa
The home of her ancestors
Where the worms are skinny and not slimmy
Her tomb stone shall read “home at last”
poem by Doris Dzameshie
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If Darwin's theory of evolution was correct, cats would be able to operate a can opener by now.
quote by Larry Wright
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Island
Where there is an arrow there is thought,
Inside the island is a disease so welcome,
These layers of thought are in the mind,
Opening tragedy and comedy as well
My islands are numerous like the particles,
Sayings are deplored and welcomed,
But we are numbers and words in the end,
Like the praises of the head and heart.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Brides
Brides.
Silk worms spewed me a suit fit for a king
Wore it at a wedding where I coveted
Another man’s bride
The worms came, ate my fine suit, they
Had found me unworthy; naked walked
through the park of autumnal leaves.
By daybreak I sat on a stone by the sea
And didn’t hear the cockerel crew, a mermaid
Beckoned for me to join her.
We swam to an island not marked by maps
In the bay I saw my old schooner called May,
De-rigged now and unable to sail
Cured of my vanity, worms spewed me
Another fine suit; by not looking back I walked
On water to a wedding in Paris.
poem by Jan Oskar Hansen
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Priceless Through Joy (Season 7)
Two strangers
I have not previously seen
Cause me as much joy in this world, as I've felt
By causing joy to one another
The joy of friendship and recognition
-
Season 7 opener
poem by Morgan Balanaser
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